Arriving home to his small apartment was like a blessing from God. His bed was calling his name, like a seductive mistress draped in fine silks and paid her weight in gold.
The only difference was that his blankets were definitely not silk. They were old, stained by various things that Peter couldn't even recall, and in desperate need of washing.
Also, he wouldn't be able to afford a mistress. Just last week he wanted to get a two dollar packet of crisps from the vending machine...and was twenty cents short.
Scratch that, he was still twenty cents short.
He really needed to organise more Spider-Man pictures for the Daily Bugle so that he could finally afford those chips.
Chucking his backpack onto the pile of trash that littered his floor (seriously, there was barely any 'floor' left beneath the dirty clothes),
Peter collapsed onto his mattress with a sigh of absolute bliss. He thought he'd never feel the calm of sleep dwindling over his mind again.
He was so close...so so close to falling into the deepest slumber of his life. Then a noise from the deepest reaches of Hell pierced his ears. Police sirens.
"No..." Peter whined, tossing back and forth on his creaking bed. "No no no no no!"
It took every single ounce of strength that Peter had left to slide off his bed, and even more to find his Spider-man costume in his pigsty of a room.
As if hoping it had been magically cleaned during his absence, Peter brought it up to his face and sniffed.
His entire expression scrunched into revolt, but there was no time to dwell on the disgusting odour.
He swiftly threw his clothes off, letting them join the plethora of others discarded around the apartment, and tugged the costume on.
"Alright, pull yourself together." Peter muttered to himself, slapping each cheek a few times to ensure that he didn't fall asleep on the spot. "Crime doesn't sleep, and neither do you.You're spider-man...spider's don't sleep. I mean, I don't think they do. Damn, it's really sad that I don't know that. Even sadder that I'm talking to myself about it."
Shaking away the sleep that still threatened to overwhelm him, Peter rushed over to his small not-so-cold fridge.
The inside was like a grocery store aisle dedicated to only energy drinks and nothing else...except for one stray bottle of mustard that some kid didn't put back.
Peter grabbed the yellow condiment and poured some into his mouth. Gross.
Either this mustard was out of date (which was very unlikely) or man was simply not meant to fulfill the curiosity of drinking it.
He reached in to grab an energy drink, throwing the mustard to the back of the fridge and sculling his beverage.
It only took two very large sips before the can was empty and he chucked on the ground with everything else.
He had to mentally praise Johnny Storm for always keeping energy drink stocked up at his house...and for sharing it with Peter whenever he asked because there was no way in hell he'd be able to afford it himself. Maybe next time he could snag a few cartons of two-minute noodles as well...
With the delicious thought of chicken broth swirling in his brain, Peter yanked the mask over his face and jumped out of his window.
One swift press of his middle fingers against the device strapped to his palm summoned a long rope of web fluid, one that latched onto the much nicer apartment block next door.
It sent him swinging through the streets of New York, following the familiar noise of sirens.
It didn't take long for him to push past the cop car that had alerted him of the crime and stumble across the scene.
A few lowly criminals had been robbing the richer parts of the city, and much to Spider-Man's delight, he had arrived there before the police.
The webslinger jumped into the groups path. There were six of them, but only two looked to pose any real threat. "I don't suppose you're going to come quietly?"
The largest man in the centre bared his teeth in typical villain fashion, and that was enough to assume that he had been the mastermind behind this small string of robberies. "Get him!"
Spider-Man shrugged. "Didn't think so."