It's one of those days where Peter feels guilty, like he'd disappointed you.

To be fair, he feels guilty pretty often, but, you know.

You rarely do date nights anymore now that you've been married for a couple years, and you'd had dinner reservations the night before, but, unfortunately, Peter had to cancel.

Spider-Man shit, you know?

And despite the fact that you said you were fine (several times, actually), he won't stop apologizing as he follows you around your apartment.

Currently, you're doing the dishes, Peter clinging to you from behind, his arms tight around your waist.

"Babe, please, I'm so sorry. Let me do them. I can do them." 

He rests his chin on your shoulder, pleading quietly in your ear.

He feels truly horrible. He's trying his best to make up for it, but you won't even let him do the dishes, dammit!

"No, no. I can do them."

You appreciate how much he's trying his best to make up for missing dinner, but you're not mad, and you never were.

You've known him for years now. You're well aware that Peter has responsibilities that sometimes cut into your 'us time'.

"Can I at least dry?" He mumbles, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You can feel the puppy eyes burning into the side of your face.