So, Peter doesn't know how to cook. Anything. Honestly, neither did Aunt May. Uncle Ben always handled the cooking and Peter was fourteen when he died so it's not like he was really into helping out in the kitchen unless it was going to involve things he could make blow up so he and Aunt May were kind of left to their own devices.
Anyway, he's hungry all the time and he's not exactly how to explain he needs more food than normal without sounding like he is stealing from actual babies and orphans so here he is.
Getting caught.
"Hey," he squeaks, clearing his throat to try that again with less shiftiness. "Uh, sorry. Hi. No. I'm new. Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in."
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Anyway, he's hungry all the time and he's not exactly how to explain he needs more food than normal without sounding like he is stealing from actual babies and orphans so here he is.
Getting caught.
"Hey," he squeaks, clearing his throat to try that again with less shiftiness. "Uh, sorry. Hi. No. I'm new. Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in."