That's Rough Buddy

by Cats_Cradle39

Summary:

“Heights and alcohol, typically not the best combination.” A male’s voice teased. You bit the inside of your cheek and scowled, turning to bark back an insult at the nosy man.

But there was no one on either side of you, which made your anger fizzle into more of an irritated confusion. “Great, now I’m hearing things.” You scoffed and tilted your head back to take another swig from the bottle out of spite.

As you tilted your head back though, a blob of red and blue caught your eye. Sticking to the wall above you was none other than your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

 

In which Peter 'chaotic mess' Parker meets his match.

Notes:

This chapter contains Peter B. before the divorce with MJ. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1

You stared out into the horizon, eyes unfocused as your mind wandered elsewhere. A bag of takeout boxes from your job sat forgotten beside you as you replayed tonight’s events in your mind.

You came home from a long 16 hour shift at one of the finer restaurants in NYC. In your hand was a plastic bag which held a few boxes of food you cooked specially for your boyfriend as an apology for all the long hours you’d been putting in recently. A bottle of your favorite wine was tucked snugly in your purse, courtesy of your neighborhood liquor store. Tonight was going to be a good night.

When you got home it was eerily silent, which worried you since your boyfriend was usually home by now. You frowned at the darkness in the apartment, knowing that Adam usually turned the lights on when he got home from work. The living area seemed like the setting of a horror movie. You were half expecting someone to jump out at you.

A thump and a chuckle came from your bedroom, the voice familiar and spreading ease through you. “Thank god.” You murmured as you approached the bedroom door, relieved in knowing that your boyfriend was fine and not getting murdered by some psycho.

Well, you were relieved until you got close enough to hear what was going on inside.

“Are you sure she won’t be back for a while? Adam-!” A shockingly familiar female voice was cut off by her own giggle and the sound of dramatically loud smooches. A sick feeling pooled in your gut as you remembered hearing the same sound as your boyfriend kissed down your neck-

“Don’t worry, she won’t be home for another hour, plus it’ll take more time because of traffic.” The reassuring and guiltless voice of your boyfriend shattered any hope you had in denying what was going on.

You kicked open the door, the sight of your best friend and your boyfriend jumping apart was clouded by angry tears. “Are you sure about that, bastard?” You hissed out, your hands clenched into fists.

Adam stared at you wide eyed, the sight of his panicked realization making you even more disgusted with the sight of them. Your best friend was pulling your bed sheet over her naked body, trying to protect whatever modesty she had left. “Wait, I can explain-”

“Save it.” You interrupted, the double betrayal and heartbreak making a nice cocktail to numb yourself as you faced the pair who used to be the most important people in your life. “I’ll be back tomorrow to collect my shit.”  You hissed to your now ex-boyfriend.

You ignored their calls as you turned on your heels to storm out. It hurt more when you realized they made no move to get out of bed to catch you.

So now you were sitting on the ledge of the Empire State Building, bottle of wine next to you for you to take the occasional sip. You were just lounging and watching the sunset as you pondered what your next step should be.

“Heights and alcohol, typically not the best combination.” A male’s voice teased. You bit the inside of your cheek and scowled, turning to bark back an insult at the nosy man.

But there was no one on either side of you, which made your anger fizzle into more of an irritated confusion. “Great, now I’m hearing things.” You scoffed and tilted your head back to take another swig from the bottle in spite of the voice.

As you tilted your head back though, a blob of red and blue caught your eye. Sticking to the wall above you was none other than your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

You spit out the mouthful of wine and quickly put down the bottle of wine in favor of grabbing napkins to clean the spilled liquid. “Warn a girl before you sneak up on her!” You scolded, heated cheeks a combination of embarrassment and the slight buzz from the wine.

“I actually said ‘hello’ but you were off in dreamland.” Spider-Man countered as he hopped down to sit on the ledge next to you. “So you know this is dangerous, right?” He inquired, those white eye holes practically boring into you. You wondered if he could feel how uncomfortable you were at the moment. Like the eyes of justice were judging you.

“I know it’s dangerous, I’m not stupid. I just come up here to think sometimes.” You defended and looked over at the bottle of your wine. “I was thirsty and the only thing I had to drink was wine. I don’t have spider powers that can help me zoom down to the nearest bodega and back up again.” You felt bad snapping at the hero, and in any other state of mind you’d be apologizing profusely.

But right now you were tired from a long day, hurt from a double betrayal, and had alcohol enhancing your emotions. You’d probably fight a kid for the last Snickers in a store right now.

The hero raised his hands with a chuckle. “Woah woah there, no need to jump down my throat. I just don’t want any civilians going and falling off of buildings.” He sniffed and looked to your side, focusing on your forgotten bag of takeout. “Ooh, what is that?”

You pushed the bag closer to him. “Something I made for my boyfriend, you can have it since he isn’t going to eat it.” You muttered, eyes narrowing at the last traces of light in the sky.

Spider-Man didn’t waste time in opening the first box, letting out a whistle at the impressive sized steak sitting there. “Still warm too! Why isn’t he eating this? This looks like premium stuff!” He opened other boxes to find other fancy food that you had slaved over, made with love despite your exhaustion from your long workday.

“Oh, he was too busy eating my best friend’s pussy.” Judging by the choking sound Spider-Man wasn’t expecting that, but your anger and slight tipsiness took away any filter you might’ve had.

The hero was silent for a few moments before he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now.” The sincerity in his voice made it hard to be mad at him. He was just a stranger, it wasn’t like he did anything to cause this to happen. Maybe if you had been a better girlfriend, Adam wouldn’t have had to look for love elsewhere.

“Hey, don’t you do that.” You turned to him, eyebrow raised in confusion. “You’re blaming yourself, right? You can’t do that. Sometimes… sometimes things just happen, and you can’t control it. They made the decision to hurt you, you didn’t ask for it. You were just trying to live life just like the rest of us. Sometimes it doesn’t always work out but that doesn’t mean you can give up.”

Your lips wobbled slightly as you felt the stinging in the back of your eyes. “But I’m out working all the time, I basically pushed him towards someone who was more available. I’m a terrible girlfriend, not that it matters anymore. Maybe I’m better off alone.”

A warm hand rested on your shoulder, the touch hesitant yet soft. Comforting. You found yourself leaning into it with a small sniffle. “Hey.” You looked up into the white holes of Spidey’s mask, feeling more at ease now. It was like you could feel the softness in his expression.

“You’re doing your best, your job. He knew what he was getting into when you got into the relationship with him. He couldn’t handle it? Shows what kinda guy he is. You’ll get a better boyfriend and best friend, because what she did was wrong too, but they’ll never be able to replace you.” He squeezed your shoulder before lowering his hand. You missed the warmth but chalked it up to your buzz.

“So that being said, why don’t we stick it to those fartwads and eat this great food to spite them? Because honestly it smells really good and I haven’t eaten today.” You stared blankly at the masked man for a few seconds as you registered the fact that he, a hero and pillar of New York City, just said ‘fartwads’ with a straight face.

Your tears finally left your eyes, but not in the violent sobbing manner you were expecting. Your loud laughter rang out around the open air, tears streaming down your burning cheeks as your arms wrapped around your waist to ease the ache. “Oh, oh fuck. I didn’t think when I woke up this morning I’d end up hearing Spider-Man call my now-ex and best friend ‘fartwads.’” You snorted unattractively and wiped your face of the tear marks and smeared makeup.

Spidey laughed along with you, his laugh strong and sure. Comforting. It made you feel safe. It was then that you realized that you were actually hanging out with Spider-Man himself. Hero to most, menace to J. Jonah Jameson and his crew of brush-heads.

“Fuck it, let’s eat. I’m hungry and it’s not every day you can have dinner with a legend, right?” You smiled warmly and started setting up the boxes in a way so both of you could pick at anything that interested you.

Between the two of you the food was gone in twenty minutes, but to you it felt like hours. With each bite of food you closed your eyes and just enjoyed your company, a drunken smile on your lips. You couldn’t remember the last time you just enjoyed a meal without needing to talk about meaningless things like the weather.

Truth was, you and Adam had been drifting apart for a while. It was at least a month since you last had sex, probably a week or two since you sat down and made out with him. You just… didn’t feel the need to do it? Maybe you should’ve seen this coming actually. Oh well.

Just then the hero let out a massive belch and patted his stomach, causing you to erupt in a fit of drunken giggles. As you stated before, the only thing you had to drink was wine and you got thirsty. It was safe to say you were drunk now.

“Damn, that’s way better than anything I could ever cook. I thought I was hot stuff in the kitchen.” The hero joked, sending a grin over your way. Since he had to pull his mask up to eat you could now see his lips and the way they curled back to reveal his teeth. “Seriously, you were dating a first class idiot if he walked away from this.”

Any pain you would’ve felt at the mention of your breakup was muffled by the pleasant thrill of glee in your heart at Spider-Man’s praise. “Thank you. I’m really glad it didn’t all go to waste.” You hummed and finally took a look at your phone. It was almost 9 now.

“Mmm… I should probably get going soon, I gotta check in to my hotel and get some sleep.” You slowly got to your feet, trying to make sure you weren’t too drunk to walk down to the elevator.

“Woah there!” In a whirlwind that you were slow to process, you managed to land yourself against Spider-Man’s chest. “Woah indeed.” You murmured to yourself, face warming more as you felt the firmness under his suit.

The man laughed and stood you upright. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll take you to your hotel because I honestly don’t think you can get there by yourself.” He teased, a small smirk playing on his lips. An attractive hero taking you back to your place via swinging in the sky? “Hell fucking yes.”

The two of you cleaned up the trash and you grabbed your bag before you could forget. “Are you sure? I can really just walk, it’s only a few blocks…” The hero held up a hand. “Nah, call it my thanks for dinner.” He smiled before pulling his mask back down over his mouth. You had almost forgotten that there was an entirely different person under the mask.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and held you to his side, causing you to inhale sharply at the sudden realization that you were going to be swinging through the air.  “Right. We can do this.” You breathed out, leaning out over the ledge to look down.

He jerked you back lightly. “Better if you don’t. Don’t you watch movies? Never look down when you’re about to take that big leap.” He advised.

You nodded once and instead focused on him, his breathing and his relaxed stature. Like he did this everyday. He does, idiot.

The ground shifted beneath you and suddenly you were flying, baby hairs whipping back from the strong force. Thankfully you had the sense to tie it back before agreeing to this, or it would’ve hit Spider-Man in the face.

You made the mistake of looking down and squealed nervously at the sight of the city below getting closer. In order to distract yourself from the lurching feeling in your stomach, you buried your face in his neck. He smelled like sweat and dirt, combined with the scent of being outside for too long… overall he smelled like a dirty gym uniform.

Nice to know he wasn’t perfect.

You landed in the alleyway next to your hotel and quickly pushed away from him. The jolt from air to ground was too much for your drunk self and you leaned over next to the dumpster to let out the entire meal you just ate.

“Oh shit. Sorry. I should’ve taken the alcohol into consideration.” You heard him say through the sound of your retching. He rubbed one hand over your back while his other made sure your hair didn’t slip out of the wind-blown ponytail. You couldn’t help but let out a sob at how pathetic you must seem in front of such an amazing guy.

“I’m so sorry, this is so gross and you’re so nice, I’m a fucking mess and I need napkins...” You felt the hand leave your back and heard a rustling in the bag of trash. He found the least stained napkins and held them out for you, which made you cry louder about how nice he was as you grabbed them to wipe your face.

Once you were sure you got the mess off of your face, you stood and grimaced at the taste in your mouth. You no longer felt the happy buzz you had felt before, the grief for your situation settling in instead.

“Hey, why don’t you head on up to your room and take a shower? I’m pretty sure it’ll help.” The hero suggested, a little more pity in his voice now that he had seen you at rock fucking bottom.

Thankfully due to your puking you felt a little better, more clear headed. You were sure you could talk to the desk manager with relative ease.

“Ah, thanks for everything tonight. Seriously. I’m sure you have better things to do than comfort a drunk woman after a breakup.” You smiled tight lipped, not wanting him to smell your now putrid breath.

The hero gave you a two finger salute as he hopped up onto the alley wall. “Stay out of trouble, get some rest and make good decisions… all that stuff. Also don’t go back to your shitty ex no matter what, he doesn’t deserve you.”

A laugh escaped your lips and you gave a salute right back. “Got it Spidey, thank you and be safe as well. Have a good night.” With great difficulty you left the only source of comfort you had and went into the hotel.

Getting to your room felt like a blur. One second you were handing your debit card to the receptionist and the next you were stipping down in the bathroom. You stared at yourself in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself. Your hair was a mess and the areas around your eyes were smeared with a mix of makeup, sweat from a long day in the kitchen, and tears.

“God I’m a fucking mess.” You croaked out before turning to start the shower. You wanted nothing more than a warm shower and to sleep off this heartache.

You intended to clean up quickly and rush to bed, but instead you found yourself sitting in the bathtub and crying under the spray of water. It felt nice to just cry undisturbed, not needing to hold back for fear of someone hearing.

When you finally finished cleaning yourself up, you stepped out of the shower and pulled on the complementary fluffy robe that the hotel had hanging on your bathroom door. You really didn’t want to wear the clothes that smelled like puke.

You were greeted by a surprising sight in the bedroom. No one seemed to be around, but on the nightstand were two bottles of water, a container of something warm, and two packets of advil. You walked over and found a note, reading it caused a smile to spread on your face.

Since I wasn’t sure if you had the energy to go yourself, I figured I could pick up a few things for you from the bodega down the street. Surprisingly good chicken soup, if you need something to fill your stomach after what happened in the alley.

Good luck, stay strong.

P.S. Lock your window, any creeper could come crawling in.

And instead of signing his name, he drew a little cartoon Spider-Man head and a thumbs up. You read the note a few more times, your heart skipping a few beats at how considerate the webslinger was.

You took the advil and greedily swallowed down a few gulps of water, feeling more refreshed already. After inspecting the soup you confirmed that it was in fact good, surprisingly so just as Spidey said.

After locking your windows as advised, you curled up in the queen bed (you deserved it no matter how much your wallet protested) and fell asleep with ease. The rollercoaster of a day left you so emotionally exhausted that you were asleep within the first five minutes of laying down.

And if you had dreams of being pressed against the chest of a certain friendly arachnid hero, no one but you had to know.

Chapter 2

Summary:

You get a new neighbor who is the definition of being a hot mess. He reminds you a lot of yourself and you try to help him as much as you can, considering.

Peter sat on the bare mattress and surveyed his small, shitty apartment. He had just finished with bringing his boxes up from the U-Haul he rented.

It was more of a room than an apartment, the only other door leading to a cramped bathroom. At least there was a bathtub so he could soak his body after patrolling. He was pretty sure he packed the epsom salt that MJ gave him-

Her name was the only thing needed to activate the waterworks.

He rested his head on his knees and his body started to tremble with incoming sobs. Everything hit him at once. He lost his last line of support in his hectic fucking life as Spider-Man because he was an inadequate husband.

Ex-Husband. Peter thought bitterly, that only causing him to bawl out loud. He could still feel the defeated look she gave him as the divorce lawyer finished up the last of the paperwork. MJ requested that Peter just sign the papers instead of going through court, not wanting to waste money on lawyer fees when she knew he was broke.

So now here he was, heartbroken and actually broke. His senses were on overdrive, his body distressed. He had never felt so completely alone, not even Aunt May was around anymore to help him. MJ was truly the last friend and person he could trust, but it wasn’t fair to her. Dragging her into Spider-Man’s messes wasn’t fair.

Peter caught the sound of light footsteps approaching his door before the knock came. He looked around in a panic but couldn’t find anything to wipe his face of snot and tears, so he just used the inside of his shirt.

Yeah, he was disgusting.

He got up quickly and opened the door, not sensing any danger from the other side so he just opened it without looking. He didn’t know how to feel when he saw you on the other side.

~

You stood there, arms crossed and feeling ready to kill. You were exhausted from a long night at work and you were trying to catch up on sleep that you knew would never come back. While you were trying to sleep you heard some weird noises that were as loud as they were annoying.

It pissed you off . You wanted to sleep , not hear your new neighbor’s weird manatee noises. So you got out of bed without thinking and stormed next door to give the guy a piece of your mind.

The angry words died in your throat, instead a rushed ‘are you okay?’ spilled from your lips.  He looked dead on his feet, his five o’clock shadow being the first thing to catch your eye. Next were the sweats and hole filled socks. Finally you looked up into his eyes, red rimmed and void of any reason of being. A flicker of something- recognition?- appeared in his eyes but was gone in an instant, so you assumed your tired mind imagined it.

The man looked and smelled like a mess, but you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a certain kinship with him. He looked exactly like you did last week.

And last night before a shower. But that wasn’t the point.

“No. Go away.” The man rasped out, closing the door quickly in your face. Your jaw clenched as your former rage started bubbling to the surface. The only thing that stopped it was the sight of moving boxes you saw in the sliver of space between the door and the man.

He lost something, whether it was a person or a job, important to him. He looked lost, hurt, angry. You knew how that felt. What kind of person would you be if you didn’t at least try to help?

With a sigh you went back to your apartment. You couldn’t help a person who didn’t want it, right? It wasn’t your responsibility.

But then you caught your reflection in the mirror, really thinking over the situation. Overall you weren’t as upset over Adam as you were the first night, mostly because you woke up with only a minor headache instead of an overwhelming hangover. It was because Spider-Man, a complete stranger, went out and did you a kindness that he really didn’t need to do.

You had heard countless tales of Spider-Man and people’s run-ins with him. People told you all kinds of stories, whether they were ‘He’s working for the CIA!’ or ‘I saw him walk an old lady across the street one time.’ You never really took him into consideration. Now?

Now you felt changed, that one small kindness helped you stay strong through one of the toughest times in your life. It was only right that you do the same for a stranger, right?

Before you could talk yourself out of it you grabbed your wallet. Tucked behind your driver’s license was the folded note from Spider-Man that you read to yourself a few times a day. You had it memorized by now, the ‘ Good luck, stay strong’ now a mantra in your mind.

You owed it to yourself and Spider-Man to help that grumpy asshole who moved in next door.

After a quick shower you pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt you bought on that one trip to Cape Cod. You stuffed your phone and wallet into your pants before heading next door to knock again.

“What do- oh, it’s you again.” The man shifted awkwardly and clenched his jaw. “Look I’m sorry for before but I have to unpack my shit so if you could make it quick? Are you here to yell at me for something?” He sounded so expectant , so used to taking the blame for things. It made your heart ache for some reason and only solidified your decision to help him.

You shook your head, deciding not to mention that yelling at him was actually your intention earlier. “I’m here to help you unpack. I’m your new neighbor and it looks like we might be in the same boat so... “ You motioned to yourself, then inside his apartment, then made the motion of unpacking boxes.

He stared at you like he was trying to make sure you were for real. You could see how conflicted he was. “Why?” He asked finally.

“Because everyone needs someone in their corner.”

The air was silent as the two of you stared at each other, like an unspoken conversation was going on in a language you couldn’t understand. He looked older in this moment, so much wiser, so much sadder than he let on. It felt like he was staring into your very soul.

He opened the door a little more so you could enter, and you took the silent invitation with a small smile.

The inside of his apartment was a lot like yours had been, boxes set down in random places that would stay there if nothing gave the guy motivation to unpack.

“Hey, you never gave your name. I can’t just call you ‘guy’ and ‘neighbor.’” You turned to the guy who was still watching you with curiosity.

He quickly moved his attention to the closest pile of boxes when he was caught staring. “Peter Parker.” He revealed, which prompted you to nod and give your name as well.

The two of you ended up unpacking half of his things before you finally looked over at him for more than two seconds. He was holding a picture frame and staring at it with such longing that you just knew he lost someone .

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” You asked quietly, not wanting to seem too imposing but also knowing that holding it in would eat him up inside. “I know we don’t know each other like… at all, but sometimes you need an unbiased ear to just listen, you know? That’s why people get therapists. Not that I am one. I’m a chef. That’s not important.” You shook your head.

Peter looked slightly amused at your rambling before looking back at the picture frame. “I have a really… demanding job. It gets pretty dangerous sometimes too, more than she was comfortable with.” He put the picture frame down and you caught sight of none other than Mary Jane Watson, both a model and the chief editor of The Daily Bugle.

Peter was married to her? Oh boy, that explains a lot. She’s like the jackpot.

You couldn’t think about that right now though, not when he needed to hear something reassuring. “You know, I’m in sorta the same boat as you. But I wasn’t married to him, we were just together for… fuck, 5 years.” You clenched your jaw, the thought of the still-fresh betrayal threatening your mood.

Calm down, this isn’t about you right now. “He cheated on me with my best friend. It felt like the end of my world, you know? But someone, a complete stranger, sat down with me and really opened my eyes. He said ‘You are doing your best, and your ex knew what he was getting into. But you’ll find better-’”

“I don’t want better. There is no ‘better’ than her. She didn’t deserve any of the shit she had to put up with and it’s my fault we ended up like this!” Peter cut you off, the sudden volume of his voice and height above you causing you to take a step back.

You looked down, trying to remind yourself that he wasn’t really angry at you, he just didn’t have a proper outlet. It was almost scary seeing how alike you two were. At one point you thought Adam was the one, you started wondering if he was going to propose. You even talked to your former best friend about it too.

You bitterly wondered if they laughed about it together.

“A relationship takes two people. Both have flaws, both have perks, but both need to compromise. Maybe you two just weren’t compatible because of your lifestyles. From how intense you’re acting there’s no doubt in my mind that you tried to do everything you could to help, so you really need to cut yourself some fucking slack. Sometimes shit just happens and you can’t help it. That’s called life.” You snapped back, pressing your pointer finger to his chest to get him to back off.

Peter stared at you for a long time before huffing and turning away. “Whatever. I’m hungry.” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Yo, Leo. Can I get a pie for delivery? Pepperoni. You know me. Oh, actually no. It’s a… it’s a new address.” He got quieter towards the end before he quickly muttered the address to the apartment.

You waited until he was off the phone to clear your throat. “Anyway, it looks like everything is pretty much unpacked. I won’t touch those.” You nodded towards the box marked ‘clothes.’ “The laundry room is on the third floor.” You jerked your thumb towards the wall you shared with him. “And I’m right next door so… if you ever feel like not wallowing in self pity alone you know who to call. ”

“Misery does love company.” Peter agreed, sounding more bitter than you as he started unpacking the box of clothes. “I’ll remember that. Thanks for bugging me.”

You took that as a dismissal and stopped yourself from frowning as you reached his door. You were just about to open it when his voice stopped you.

“Not for nothing though, the pies from Leo’s are pretty large.” He informed, the tone in his voice causing you to perk up and look back at him in surprise. Peter wasn’t looking at you, but he did halt in his packing. Waiting.

You clicked your tongue and let go of his doorknob. “Well then Mr. Parker, I’m gonna have to relieve you of a few slices. It’s the neighborly thing to do after all.” His shoulders relaxed just a little and you realized that he didn’t want to be alone. You could understand that completely.

He looked over his shoulder and looked like he was almost about to smile, but it turned into a toothy grimace. “But before pizza, I should probably shower. So would you mind just waiting at your place while I get situated over here? I’ll knock on our wall when you can head back over.” He suggested after he caught his own smell.

The seeing the scrunched up look on his face made you laugh, which turned into a fit of laughter as his cheeks went red in embarrassment and he settled you with a slight glare. “Alright, alright. I’m going. You better not eat the pizza without me though, I am pretty hungry.” You joked before stepping out and going back to your apartment.

~

Maybe half an hour later came the knocking, but not on the wall between the two apartments. You got up quickly and grabbed your phone, checking the time. It had actually been a full hour and the delivery boy looked pissed.  

“Yo.” You got his attention and held your hands up in defense when he glared over at you. “Is that for Peter? He’s supposed to be in the shower right now. Here.” You pulled out a $20 from your wallet and handed it over. “Keep the change.”

The delivery boy looked all too glad to take the money and leave, muttering something about ‘typical Parker.’ You watched him leave with a snort before leaning in to knock on Peter’s door.

There was no answer, so you just went back into your apartment and placed the box on your kitchen counter. You quickly grabbed stationary and started to write a little note.

Pizza came, I took it to my place since you were busy in the shower. You should’ve seen the delivery guy’s face. Come get the pizza while it’s hot.

You stepped out of your apartment again and slipped the note under Peter’s door, figuring he’d see it sooner rather than later.

~

Turns out later was the time that Peter decided to make his appearance. You heard the sound of clattering and banging from the apartment next door.

It was now 8pm, the pizza was ordered at noon.

You stormed out of your apartment and over to his, knocking on his door angrily. “Peter!” You heard a muffled ‘shit’ and the sound of his sneakers scuffling on the floor.

A minute later the door opened and you saw Peter, only he looked way worse then he did this morning. Your eyes widened in horror as you caught sight of his black eye and swollen lip. It looked like he had gotten into a fist fight, but that wasn’t possible because you didn’t hear him leave the apartment.

“How did this happen? Don’t tell me you slipped and knocked yourself out in the shower.” You frowned and tried to scan his face for any other injuries, but he pulled back and cleared his throat.

“Funny story, that’s exactly what happened. I need to get one of those rubber sticky mats that stick to the bathtub or I’m gonna end up splitting my head open one day.” He rubbed the back of his head and took a step out of his apartment, closing the door behind him. “So do you happen to have any pizza left? I’m starving.” He patted his stomach, which you noticed pulled a wince from him.

Something felt wrong about the casual way he regarded his injuries. “Yeah… I’m guessing you didn’t read my note yet.” You motioned for him to follow you back into your apartment, listening to the shuffling of his socked feet behind you.

His shuffling stopped once he got to the box of pizza. He flipped it open and immediately grabbed the biggest slice, biting into it without even heating it up. “Mmm, even cold they have the best slice in town.” He complimented fondly even as his mouth was stuffed.

You grimaced. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, you heathen. It’s gross.” You grabbed two paper plates and handed one to the mess of a man in front of you. “Here, a napkin too so your sweatpants don’t get any greasier.” You teased, eyes flickering to the questionable stains on Peter’s sweats.

Peter thankfully swallowed what was in his mouth before he spoke again. “First of all, these are my lazy pants. Everyone has them, and these are mine. Post relationship moods almost always include lazy pants.” He pointed out, his eyes lazily flickering to your own sweats.

“Well you got me there.” You admitted and popped your pizza into the microwave to warm it up. “So, want to watch a movie or something? There has to be something on tv.” You turned to see him nearly passed out on your couch, pizza slice halfway out of his mouth as his eyes fought not to droop shut.

You held back a snicker and went to lightly shake his shoulder. “Peter, maybe you should go get to bed. You can take a few slices back to your apartment if you want.” You offered quietly, kicking yourself for not realizing how tired he actually was.

He nodded slowly and opened his eyes just a crack. “Yeah yeah, you must think I’m really old, only old people go to bed at like-” He looked over to your alarm clock. “-8:23pm.” He slowly got up and took another bite of his pizza, the humor of the sight not lost on you.  

“Listen, with the hours I work at the restaurant I’m usually asleep by now anyway. I go in at the asscrack of dawn to prep and cook till my kitchen staff gets tired of me. So I get it.” You waved him off and stuffed three more slices between paper plates. “Here, this is yours. Put them in the fridge for lunch tomorrow and get some sleep.” You ordered and held out the pizza as an offering.

Peter took the plates carefully, like he was holding the most precious thing in his life at the moment. The thought made you want to both laugh and cry for him.

“Thanks, really. I’ll uh, see you I guess.” He mumbled and waved over his shoulder as he left your apartment. You didn’t take it personally that he didn’t look back at you. The guy was dead on his feet.

Once you heard Peter’s door shut, you took a seat on your couch and turned on the news as you dug into your pizza. The main story tonight was about none other than your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

You sat up in interest and turned up the volume. Ever since your first meeting with him last week, you kinda grew obsessed with him. Not in the ‘omg i want to have his spider eggs’ way, but you genuinely wanted to know more about him. He always seemed so strong, so willing to swoop in and save the day when people needed him. It made you wonder how many people were there for him. He was only human after all.

A gasp escaped you as you watched the fight between Spider-Man and a gang of violent criminals that robbed a bank this afternoon. It was always fascinating to watch him in action, even if it was just on the TV. The way the hero moved reminded you that even though he was friendly, he was still not one to mess with.

Something else caught your attention. This wasn’t a live broadcast, evident by the fact that all banks were closed at this time of night. The footage came from the bank cameras themselves, the timestamp reading 2:32pm.

“Damn, I’m guessing Spidey doesn’t have a dayjob.” You commented as you finished off the last of your slice. Despite the way you scolded Peter earlier, you wiped your hands off on your sweats.

You yawned and decided to get to bed now since you had an early day at work tomorrow. After washing up and changing from your dirty clothes into your slightly-less dirty pajamas, you plopped onto your bed and watched the news until your eyelids grew heavy.

You were dead asleep when a window opened in the apartment next door.

Notes:

Ahhh hobo Peter, I've missed you.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Peter decides to investigate.

It was two days later that Peter decided he was bored. There were only so many soap operas and nature documentaries he could watch before he grew restless. There was nothing for him to do, no one at the moment for him to save.

Part of him thought yesterday he’d wake up to you knocking annoyingly on his door again, but by the time he came back from Spider business you were out of your apartment. It was only 5am and it seemed like your apartment was empty for at least an hour.

Not that he was looking forward to your company or anything, he was just… well, alright. He was lonely. So very lonely and he had no one to talk to. You were the only one that was willing to put up with his shit for whatever reason and he cherished the moments where he could be Peter Parker and not ‘Spider-Man.’ The ones who knew his identity expected Peter Parker to be some kind of upstanding citizen since he was also a hero.

But honestly, Peter appreciated being able to be a mess around another person. He got a taste of it the other day and it was safe to say he liked being accepted for who he is rather than who he could be.

It was almost too easy to fall into the trap of being comfortable with someone. He had to know more about you before letting himself make the possible mistake of opening up.

So the perfect cure for boredom ended up being breaking into your apartment and snooping. It wasn’t anything personal, he just wanted to make sure that you weren’t some villain in disguise.

There were too many of those in his past for his liking.

He slipped into your apartment window (which he told you to lock or some creep would end up crawling in) via the shared fire escape and looked around. It still looked like it did the other day, save for the unmade bed. You were surprisingly neat, which was suspicious. Who was this clean after a breakup? Where were the stacks of takeout food and empty ice cream tubs?

Peter snooped through the medicine cabinet and found an old prescription bottle of Bupropion, commonly used as an antidepressant and/or a medication to quit smoking. Sensing he was getting a little too personal, he put the bottle back in the cabinet and left the bathroom.

He went through your desk, looking for anything that his 22 years of being Spider-Man taught him would be suspicious. To his surprise he found a whole bunch of…

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

That was reason for suspicion though. Where were pictures of family? Friends? Pets? People had to have some kind of pictures, right? Where did you keep yours?

Suddenly, Peter's spider sense activated and he caught the sound of your footsteps approaching your door. He stealthily tidied the area before slipping out of the window and closing it just as your key jingled in the lock.

He snuck back to his apartment and fell back onto his mattress, his heart racing with adrenaline the way it did when he almost got caught. Sometimes he loved his spider senses.

He listened in to what was going on in your apartment. There was a yawn, the opening of the fridge, then the closing of it. There was a pause where everything was quiet before a loud ‘bang’ and a pained curse flew from your mouth.

Peter relaxed a tiny bit as he heard the sounds of someone just existing around him. It was nice, made him feel a little less alone, not that he’d admit it to anyone. Not that he had anyone to tell.

The sound of a phone ringing made Peter jump in surprise. He looked down at his phone to see it wasn’t the one making noise, so it had to be yours. He focused his hearing so he’d be able to pick up both sides of the conversation.

“Hey Stacy, what’s got you calling so late?” Peter snorted and looked at the clock. You were the only one he knew that would say that 7pm on a Friday night was late.

“Late? It’s only 7, jeez you’re becoming a hermit. Come on, the girls are trying to get together for a ladies night. Are you in?” The woman on the other end asked.

There was another pause before Peter heard you answer. “Uh… yeah, yeah I’m in. I have off tomorrow so I’m down to make stupid decisions.” You said with certainty that left Peter feeling uneasy.

“Hell yes Queen, maybe we can even get you laid tonight!” Now that only made Peter feel worse about the situation. Did you know how dangerous it was to get drunk at bars and take someone back to your place? What if you got hurt? You were the closest thing to a friend Peter had now so he wanted to make sure you got back home safe.

How long has it been since he did something because he wanted to, and not because he felt obligated to do it?

Too long.

“Eh, not really interested in banging it out tonight Stace. I’m mostly looking to have fun. We’ll see though.” Peter heard the sound of a bottle being opened and a metal bottle cap hitting the kitchen counter. Were you pregaming it? Just how much did you normally drink?

“Alright hun, well we’re all meeting at Bull McCabes at 9, see you then!” Stacy blew a kiss into the phone before hanging up.

Peter could hear you take a drink before letting out a low belch. “9, huh? I can do that. Fucking exhausted, but I can do that.” He heard you mumble to yourself as you padded into the bathroom.

He stopped listening then, giving you your privacy and instead thinking about what he learned through the phone call.

You definitely had friends, so that was reassuring. You weren’t just some weirdo with no one to talk to like him. Maybe you just didn’t keep physical pictures? Maybe they were on your phone, or on… oh fuck, how could he forget Instagram? He didn’t know your username though, so that was a moot point.

Peter got dressed in his suit and laid down in his bed, chewing on a leftover slice of Pizza as he thought about his potential plan. Did this count as stalking? No, right? He was just trying to make sure his neighbor stayed safe and made good decisions.

Yeah, he’d keep telling himself that.

Peter ended up following you to the bar, taking notice of how you cleaned up well despite how tired you sounded while getting ready. It probably wasn’t the best idea for you to push your limits like this, but he really couldn’t talk.  

And if he waited there until you came out and said goodnight to your friends? Well, you didn’t have to know about it.

~

You headed down the city streets as you walked back to your apartment. It was now a little past midnight and you were ready to go home and sleep. You had the day off tomorrow and nothing short of the apocalypse was gonna stop you from sleeping in.

“You look happy, are you always such a happy drunk?” A familiar voice rang out. Your head snapped in the direction so fast you felt the ground moving. You held your arms out to steady yourself before looking up.

“AY! BUDDAY!” You cheered and stumbled over to the brick wall of an alley, beaming up at Spider-Man who was chilling on the wall. “We gotta… we gotta stop meeting when I’m drunk all the time. You seem just… so cool. I need to know you when I’m not drunk, you know? You know. You’re Spider-Man of course you know.”

The sound of his quiet laughter caught your attention, the sound making your cheeks ache from how wide you grinned. “What’s so funny, Spida-Man ?~” You asked, trying to impersonate Wilson Fisk’s thick accent.

That only served to make Spider-Man snicker more. “Oh god, you should do drunk impersonations at a club. You’d make big bucks there.” He teased, his humor evident in his voice. You wondered what his face looked like when he smiled, and if you’d ever find out.

“I’m glad I can make you laugh. You made me laugh when I needed it.” You went from excited to depressed in a heartbeat, your smile falling from your face. If only helping Peter was this easy. Maybe you just needed to get him drunk too?

“Hey Spidey, lemme bend your ear a second.” He snorted at the expression. “No I’m serious, don’t laugh at me!” You grabbed an empty soda cup and tried throwing it at him, but you were so drunk that it flew out of your hand when you pulled it back. “Fuck!” You swore to yourself as the hero started to chuckle at your drunken tantrum.

“You’re way worse than last time. Does this have anything to do with why you want to ‘bend my ear?’ I mean seriously, who even says that anymore?” He shook his head and motioned towards the other end of the alley. “Come on, I’ll make sure you get home safe, no swinging involved.” He suggested, the offer so tempting that you didn’t realize there was no reasonable way he should know where you lived.

You were practically glowing at the invitation anyway and started walking, your attention split between where Spider-Man was crawling on the wall and the path in front of you. You didn’t trust drunk you not to trip in front of the hero.

You took a deep breath before beginning to talk. “You ever just wanna… help? Not because you have to, but because you want to?” You looked up with him with squinty eyes and suddenly you remembered that this was Spider-Man , who helped people on a daily basis. “Wait, fuck. Of course you do, you’re Spider-Man.”

He actually stayed quiet, which surprised you since you expected him to make another little quip at your expense. Since he didn’t say anything, you continued.

“Well I have this neighbor, right? And he seems really down. I don’t know much about him besides he recently got divorced, but I can tell he blames himself. He… he reminds me a lot of me, and I want to help him somehow. I know how it feels to feel alone, you know? But I don’t wanna… I don’t want to force him to be my friend? It’s just that I’m really cool and everyone deserves a cool friend like me.” You rambled on, your words more like a stream of consciousness rather than an organized thought.

Spider-Man dropped down in front of you, causing you to stumble back in surprise and confusion. “Uh, Spidey?” Much like last time, he seemed to be staring at you with those big white eyes. “You know those are really intimidating.” You pointed out with a small pout.

“You really just want to help him, huh? Even though you don’t know him or anything he’s involved with?” The masked hero wondered. The way he worded his question made you frown.

“Hey, don’t talk about my friend like that, okay? You make it sound like he’s some loser who deals drugs in alleys… or like… like he’s a villain or something. He has a good heart, I know that much.” You defended Peter immediately, knowing that he might be a mess but it didn’t mean he was a bad guy.

You moved to continue on your way home, not wanting to stop and get stuck talking. Honestly you were getting tired and you were ready for a nice sleep. You hoped he would follow though, at least for a little. He was nice company when he didn’t question your judgement of character.

“Alrighty then, so tell me about this guy. What’s your impression of him? I bet he’s dashingly handsome.” Spider-Man joked as he followed you once again. You rolled your eyes and turned to tell him to stop bringing up your neighbor.

The problem was that you didn’t have a rear view mirror to warn you that Spider-People might be closer than they originally seem, so when you stopped and turned you ended up being face-to-chest with the black spider logo.

You looked up and blinked slowly. There seemed to be a silent moment of communication between the two of you, but once again it felt like you had no idea what you were saying. It reminded you a lot of the moment with Peter, right before he let you into his apartment to help him unpack.

Somehow your drunk mind was able to recall the last thing the hero said. A sly smirk played on your lips and you tilted your head to the side. “‘Dashingly handsome?’ I’m not sure about that, but maybe he’s your type. Want me to get his number for you?”

You watched Spider-Man’s eyes widen comedically before blinking once, twice. Then he started laughing hard. The weird, almost suffocating tension between you two evaporated and instead you were left with a hero who seemed like he couldn’t stop laughing. It almost sounded like he could be crying but you couldn’t be sure without taking off the mask, which was an obvious no.

“Hey, you okay there bud?” You put your hand on his back and waited for him to finish his… fit. “I thought I was supposed to be the drunk one.”

His laughter slowly died down and he patted you on the shoulder once he managed to regain his composure. “I’m good, I just really needed that. I haven’t laughed like that since… I think the last time I saw you actually.” He admitted with what you hoped to be a smile. Again, you really couldn’t tell without the mask.

You took his admission into consideration. “I see. I’m guessing your friends just aren’t as funny as drunk me. I got it…” You gave him a small, genuine smile free of teasing or jokes. “Well, your other friends. I’d like to think we’re friends. Are we?”

Spider-Man seemed to think it over before nodding once. “Yeah. We are.”

~

The hero got you to your apartment complex safely, but you didn’t want to stop talking to him just yet. You looked up at the fire escape and pursed your lips in thought. “Would you wanna-?”

“Oh! Well uh… I don’t want to impose or anything. You’re drunk and probably not thinking right…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t have to be sober to hang out with a friend, do I?” You wanted to make it perfectly clear that you weren’t interested in doing… whatever with with anyone at the moment. You just wanted to not feel alone. “Besides, maybe you can meet Peter and get his number.” You teased.

But Spider-Man didn’t seem amused. He tensed up before looking off into the distance, like there was something he could hear that you couldn’t. “Ah. Gonna have to take a raincheck on that. It was only a matter of time before something came up.” He gave you a quick two finger salute before slinging off into the sky, leaving you minorly starstruck at the sight.

Maybe one day he could take you webbing when you were sober.

Notes:

I honestly really love the relationship between these two. How about you guys?

Chapter 4

Last night you swore to yourself that nothing save for the Apocalypse would interrupt you from sleeping in. You worked your ass off all week and you really deserved the extra few hours that you denied yourself in favor of working overtime. Your exhaustion in addition to your not-so-minor hangover meant that you would sleep all day if permitted.

Enter Peter Parker, asshole trash lord extraordinaire. AKA, the human version of the apocalypse.

It was like he somehow knew that you were planning on sleeping in and made it his mission to mess with you. From the banging of dishes being washed (which you just knew was to irritate you because you refused to believe he used plates, the guy ordered nothing but takeout) to the elevated volume of whatever action movie he was watching, your head was roaring .

You got out of bed and pulled on the sweats that you were wearing last night before Stacy called. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You growled under your breath, not even bothering to fix your hair or make yourself the least bit presentable. You didn’t need to look nice to beat your asshole neighbor’s ass.

Peter’s door swung open before you could bang angrily on it. Your fist ended up hitting his chest, but when you glared up at him he only showed trace amounts of humor, no pain. “Hey there grumpy. You look like shit.” He greeted.

You narrowed your eyes, not in the mood for jokes at the ungodly hour of 7am when you were hungover. “Keep it down, I’m trying to sleep.” You hissed out, pointing an accusing finger in his face. “No one does dishes that loud.”

The man leaned against his doorway with a small smirk. “I do, it wasn’t even that loud. Long night I’m guessing?” He obviously knew what kind of state you were in and if you weren’t ready to go back to bed, you’d punch that smirk off his face. At any other time you’d be excited to see him in a teasing mood. But not today.

“Totally. I danced on a table topless and arm wrestled Uma Thurman in the bar. Now please be quieter. Just… please.” Your snappy remark ended up being a small plead for him to just… be quiet. You gave your best puppy eyes and hoped that he recognized how utterly exhausted you felt.

Peter’s smirk softened and he nodded once. You were glad to see that he knew when to stop being annoying.  “Yeah, sorry. I’ll keep it down over here. Go get some rest.”

You smiled gratefully before going back to your apartment and immediately climbing into bed. You grabbed your chilled pillow and sighed contently as you nuzzled the surface, hoping to get back to sleep so you could get rid of the pounding in your head. The noise coming from Peter’s apartment was now no more than a dull hum and you were ready for it to lull you off into dreamland.

Except that didn’t happen.

You couldn’t fall back asleep, even as you lay in bed with your eyes closed. It took another half an hour before you finally gave up and groaned loudly. “Peter Fuckin’ Parker…” You grumbled, blaming him for waking you in the first place.

Since you couldn’t get back to sleep you chose to get up and start your day, immediately going to the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair. When you caught a whiff of yourself and smelled the different aromas of the kitchen where you worked, you decided to shower as well.

After washing yourself of yesterday’s grime and making your bed, breakfast was your next mission. You turned the coffee maker on and went to the fridge to start pulling out ingredients for eggs and hashbrowns. It was easy to zone out while cooking, you did it all the time at the restaurant.

Once you started to plate your meal, you froze. You made double the portion, something you always did back when you were living with Adam. Even if you had work early and he wouldn’t be up for hours, you still made him food. It was a habit that you had nearly forgotten, but to be honest it was because you rarely cooked in the apartment since you were always working.

Why were you always working? To forget about how fucking lonely it felt to be in this shithole apartment.

“Oh no, I’m not doing this right now.” You muttered and put the pan full of eggs back on the stove. You went back to Peter’s door and knocked quickly before you could back out. “Parker, I know you heard me coming.”

The door opened again and Peter looked down at you in confusion. “I thought you were going back to bed?” He eyed your wet hair and change of clothes. “Couldn’t sleep?” He guessed.

“No thanks to a certain neighbor of mine.” You quipped and crossed your arms to prepare yourself for what you wanted to ask. “Have breakfast with me. I made too much for myself.” There was an unspoken meaning in those words that you knew he’d understand. He was just as lonely as you were.

Peter didn’t have to be told twice. Free food was almost always the way to get him to go anywhere. “Sounds good, I was just about to have pizza for breakfast, but I guess something homemade wouldn’t be too bad.”

You grimaced as you realized just how much Peter actually ordered takeout. “Not for nothing, you shouldn’t be eating pizza all the time. You’ll end up getting a gut.” You poked his stomach playfully only to be met with solid muscle.

Oh, okay. You thought as you turned on your heels. Hopefully he didn’t see the way your cheeks heated slightly as you walked back to your apartment. The chuckle coming from him told you that he actually did, but it was too late to take it back now.

“Smells good. Is the coffee communal too?” He asked as he immediately walked over to the stove to make himself a plate. Your eye twitched slightly in irritation at how he strolled in like he owned the place.

Instead of answering you went to the cabinet and pulled out two mugs, sliding one over to him. “Cream, sugar?” You asked as you went to the fridge to grab your creamer.

It was all so… domestic. Relaxed. This was the casual intimacy that you missed in a relationship, just the feeling of co-existing with another person. When the two of you ate at your little kitchen table, you could tell that he appreciated the feeling as well. He looked more at ease, he even smiled a little as he ate.

“So, you have off today? What’s your plan?” Peter finally asked through a mouthful of eggs. Once again you grimaced as you watched him eat.

“Maybe I’ll teach you how to not talk with your mouth full.” You scolded and tossed a napkin at him, which he caught with ease. “Clean yourself up, you have hot sauce on your face.” You motioned to the spots of red on his chin. You were confused as to why he requested hot sauce in the first place, but your confusion turned into horror as he doused your perfectly fluffy eggs with hot sauce. When he explained that it’s just how he grew up eating eggs, you tried not to be offended.

Peter stopped his chewing to wipe his face but missed a majority of the hot sauce. He looked at you for confirmation, his chipmunk cheeks and questioning eyes causing you to break out laughing.

“Oh… oh fuck that’s a funny face.” You snickered before reaching out and wiping his face with the napkin. It was a gesture you didn’t think twice about. “There. You eat like an animal you know?” You tossed the napkin in the garbage and looked back at him, taking in his now frozen form. “Peter?”

He swallowed and washed the food down with a few sips of coffee. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Mm, yeah. I’ve just been eating nothing but Leo’s lately so I guess I got a little excited over something new.” He admitted with a shrug.

An idea crossed your mind and you tapped your cheek. “Well… I believe I might have a proposition for you. I find myself making extra food whenever I cook at home. I don’t mind sharing if you keep me company.” You offered, hoping he accepted simply because you wanted more of these little interactions. After living with someone for years it was hard to just… not have someone there. You didn’t even have your former best friend to talk with because she was the one screwing around with Adam.

You didn’t realize you had zoned out until you had a pair of fingers snapping in front of your face. “Usually people don’t zone out after asking someone else a question.” Peter pointed out. “I said sure by the way. I’d be a first class idiot to pass up restaurant level cooking.” He followed his compliment with a low belch that he had the decency to cover with his fist.

Something nagged at you from the back of your mind. A hazy memory from your first drunken meeting with your favorite friendly neighborhood hero. Spider-Man said something similar about Adam being a ‘first class idiot’ for walking away from such good cooking. It was just a coincidence though, it had to be. Right?

“So let me ask you something. How is it so clean in here? I thought you moved in like… last week? How does it already look like you’ve lived here for months?” Peter wondered, breaking your train of thought.

You thought for a moment as you looked around the small apartment. “Well, I like everything to have its own place, you know? And I’m not really home much to make a mess. I’m always working, or sleeping.” You shrugged and got up to start washing dishes.

~

Peter watched you curiously, wondering why you didn’t add ‘getting shitfaced drunk’ to the list. There wasn’t any way to bring it up since Peter technically wasn’t the one to see you drunk, it was Spider-Man.

“So why do you work so much? Which restaurant do you work at? I didn’t realize chefs have such long workdays. Are you the head chef? Do you wear one of those tall white hats?” Peter shot off his questions one by one, the corners of his lips tilting up in amusement as he watched you try to answer one before he asked the next one.

Peter watched your eyes narrow and your lips purse in annoyance. “Are you going to let me answer one of your questions or do you have 50 more?” He could tell you weren’t fully mad, so he decided to let you off the hook.

He grinned and waved his hand for you to start answering. It was fun seeing you riled up, it was different than seeing you drunk and careless with Spider-Man. Not that it was bad seeing you careless… but it would probably be better if you weren’t drunk. What could he do to see a more relaxed version of you without involving alcohol?

You nodded and turned your back to Peter so you could continue doing the dishes. “No I don’t wear one of those tall white hats, no I’m not the head chef. As for why I work so much… well,  more money never hurt, and it’s not like I have a reason not to work. I rarely go out with friends since most of them are closer to my ex-best friend. I just… don’t have any other reason to exist besides work, I guess.”

Peter’s grin fell and he stared at the way your shoulders sagged slightly. It was minor, like you were trying not to make it noticeable but due to his abilities he caught it with ease. He could understand your position. He rarely saw any of his few friends now since most of them were closer with MJ and he felt like most of his life revolved around work… as a hero at least. Work that didn’t pay.

He got up and grabbed a dish towel to start drying the dishes you washed. You stopped to look up at him, eyes wide in slight surprise and minor confusion. Peter didn’t mention it, and he definitely didn’t allow you to take the dish back.

“Well, guess you have a reason to exist now. Who else is gonna make five star food for me, free of charge?” Peter looked over at you with a small smirk, one that was more warm than teasing.

He watched as the tension seemed to melt off of you. The frown on your lips curled into a grateful smile that reached your eyes. For the first time in a while, someone looked at Peter the same way they looked at Spider-Man. Like he was some sort of a hero.

The feeling may or may not have made his throat tighten. Most of the time people only looked at him like that after he risked his own safety to save them. Now all Peter did was make a stupid comment and you looked at him like he did so much more. It was… really nice. He almost forgot what it felt like to be appreciated as Peter Parker. He was basically invisible until he wore his mask.

“Peter?” The man blinked back into reality to find that he had been drying the same plate for at least a minute. The sink was off and you were done washing, now just staring at him in half confusion, half amusement. “You okay there, space cadet?”

“Mm. Yeah. Just thinking.” He nodded and put the last plate away once he was sure it was dry.

“Must be difficult, looks like you were thinking pretty hard there.” You teased as you went to sit on your couch. You got comfortable on one end while leaving more than enough space for Peter on the other side.

Peter turned to follow, his eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ll have you know I have a degree in chemical engineering.” He pointed out as he made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch.

He watched in amusement as your eyes widened in surprise. “No fucking way. I can’t imagine you being able to sit through all the science-y classes it takes to get a degree in engineering .” He wasn’t completely sure if you were joking or not, but he tried not to take it to heart. Besides, it was probably better that he be underestimated, right? Chemical engineering was more impressive, like Spider-Man. It wasn’t like he wanted to impress you or anything.

Right?

~

You flickered through the TV channels as the two of you sat on your couch. Peter perked up when you stopped on the nature channel, there was a documentary about penguins on and it looked… kinda cute actually.

“Pete, you good with me leaving this on?” You turned to look at him only to see him staring, entranced at the flightless birds. “Did you know penguins mate for life?” Was his response to your question. You lowered the remote, figuring you had your answer.

He didn’t stop talking though. It was like he was in his own little world as he stared at the screen. “Can you imagine meeting someone and making it work, no matter what? Accepting all of them because they’re the only one you want for life?” The pain you could hear in his voice reminded you of the quiet nights you spent trying to muffle your sobs into your pillow so the neighbors (mostly Peter) couldn’t hear.

Your heart clenched as you looked back at the screen, watching as a penguin picked up a pebble he deemed perfect for his chosen female. “That’s the dream, isn’t it?” You murmured, bitterness practically knocking the good mood out of you. “Finding someone who can see past your beauty and directly into the eyes of your demons… someone who will accept all of you, not just bits and pieces.”

The mood in the room went from relaxing to depressing in what felt like no time at all. You looked over to him with glassy eyes only to see him staring right back, eyes just as teary as yours.

One tear fell, then two. It was unclear who moved first, but you found yourself in Peter’s arms, holding him for dear life as you muffled your wet sobs in his shirt. You didn’t think he’d mind though, considering you also felt your neck and shirt getting stained with his tears.

A symphony of sniffles and poorly-restrained sobs echoed in your apartment. If you weren’t the one blubbering, it was Peter. The feeling of crying wasn’t new to you, but you forgot how therapeutic it felt to be held while crying.

Peter held onto you like you were his lifeline, just as you held onto him. It was like the two of you felt lost at sea and all you had was each other. Your heart ached and Peter was a soothing balm that made it hurt a little less.

The crying eventually died down, but neither of you pulled away. You kept your arms wrapped around his neck and he kept his around your waist. HIs warmth was still comforting so you rested your head in his neck, gently moving your fingers through the soft hair at the back of his head. You would’ve felt embarrassed of how clingy you were being if not for the way Peter’s fingers drew random patterns into your back.

You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh, relaxing completely for the first time in what felt like years. It had been so long since someone, including Adam, held you like this. You felt safe, calm. There was a nagging voice in your head that warned you about the kind of territory you were creeping into, but you ignored it for the comfort that came from being held.

Before you knew it you closed your eyes. The crying had actually taken a lot out of you and your head was pounding angrily from the nearly-but-not-quite gone hangover.

“Peter… if we don’t move I’m gonna fall asleep on you.” You warned quietly, a little nervous about what would happen once the mood was broken. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you wondered if Peter could feel it where it was pressed against his.

He was silent for a little while longer, but movement of his fingers against your back continued. “I have been told I’m comfortable to fall asleep on.” He replied, his fingers slowly coming to a stop. He didn’t move and didn’t say anything else, like he was waiting for something.

You. Peter was waiting for you to tell him no. To push him away, to get off of his lap and go back to your corner of the couch. It really was the logical thing to do. And yet...

With the sound of the penguins honking in the background you shifted not to get off, but to get more comfortable on him. A tension you didn’t realize he was carrying seemed to fade from his shoulders. His sigh of relief was an echo of yours and you felt a pressure on the top of your head. He was leaning on you too.

The realization that he needed this just as much as you did only further solidified your resolve. You were both people hurting and in need of comfort, it might as well be from each other. This is what friends are for, right? To help each other.

 

Right?

Notes:

Have you ever just fallen asleep in someone's arms after a long cry? It's the best thing. They both deserve that.

Chapter 5

Notes:

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay! I went on vacation and just got lazy with writing, but thank you all for your sweet comments! I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story and I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's like... twice as longer as my usual chapters lmao.

Peter woke up feeling warm and disoriented, like the very nap itself rearranged his center of gravity. There was a light weight on him, wrapped around him like one of those blankets lonely people buy specifically because it felt like someone was holding them at night. 

Wait.

He slowly blinked awake, his eyes crusty with the beginnings of eye boogers. Looking down brought a surprise that made his heart jump in a weird, uncomfortable way. If he wasn’t Spider-Man and in good health, he would say he was having a mild heart attack.

The two of you were snuggled up on the couch together, legs intertwined while your body made itself comfortable on top of his. Your head was tucked snuggly in the crook of his neck, little puffs of hot air routinely hitting his skin and sending tingles through his body. One of your arms was wrapped around him while the other was sprawled over his chest, warmth from your hand pleasant over his heart.

It was comfortable. Really comfortable. You were so warm too, the arm that had been wrapped around your waist felt cold now that he held it up in his sights. He was still a little disoriented from the nap. He couldn’t remember the last time he had such a peaceful sleep, especially since he had been crying.

Peter looked back down to try and see what he could of your face. You were still out cold, your breathing and heart rate steady with no signs of waking up. You looked so… peaceful. It made him smile. Sure there was dried drool on the corner of your mouth that he was pretty sure dribbled to his shirt, but he had his own crusty trail leading down the side of his chin that he was sure was equally embarrassing.

He wasn’t sure whether to try falling back asleep or to get up, but the second option involved waking you up. And if you woke up, Peter was pretty sure you’d want to move away. 

It wouldn’t hurt to stay like this a little longer…. He slowly draped his arm back over the middle of your back, a soft sigh of contentment escaping your lips and echoing in his ear. It sent more pleasant shivers down his spine. Yeah, just a little longer.

Peter was about to close his eyes and let himself relax back into slumber until the sound of footsteps coming down the hall caught his attention. His eyes snapped open and his heart started to race. The way the person walked, the sound of their heels clicking… 

He needed to get out of there, into his apartment before she makes too much noise and wakes you. It would be too awkward for him to wake you up and say ‘Yeah, hey, thanks for crying and cuddling with me. The nap was great too. I gotta go though because my ex-wife is waiting for me.’

That’s absolutely not what he needs right now.

So with all the grace that his spider powers gave him, he managed to lift you up and carry you to your bed. He webbed the sheet to pull it back and tucked you in gently, making sure you looked comfortable before pulling back.

Peter took a few steps away from the bed and froze for a moment, watching as you sighed and snuggled into the blankets in a way that was… kinda cute.

There was no time to stick around if the sound of MJ walking closer had anything to say about it. He gave your mattress, which looked so much better than the cot he got at a yard sale for $25, one last longing look before heading to your window.

To his disappointment he didn’t have to unlock the window to open it, which meant you didn’t take Spider-Man’s safety tip about locking your window. You could keep the note but not listen to the lesson?

“Women.” He muttered as he entered his apartment. A familiar knock sounded from the door just as his feet touched the ground. The knock was confident and strong, yet so fragile. On the other side of that door was the love of his life, his former wife, his ever-so-special Mary Jane Par-Watson. Watson. She didn’t even keep his name after the divorce. Honestly it was a blessing she agreed to take his name in the first place. MJ was so about equality that-

Another knock echoed through the apartment, louder and more demanding this time. Nothing fragile about it. It snapped Peter out of his thoughts and caused a swirl of emotions to settle in his gut. He wasn’t ready to see her right now! He could barely go out in public without his suit on. He hadn’t even shaved in a few days and his 5 ‘o clock shadow was just inching into beard territory.

His heart sank into his throat when he heard a soft, disheartened sigh from the woman he loved. The woman who once did all she could to show how much she loved him. Now he was familiar with all the ways she expressed her disappointment.

With good reason too. He couldn’t even open the door for her anymore, too scared stiff by what he might do should he see her face right now. Sure Spider-Man was still out saving the city whenever he could, but Peter didn’t have the same bravery anymore. He was scared. Scared, tired, and without a person to lean on in times of stress. Unless you counted Leo’s, but his formerly toned core muscles seemed to be growing softer by the slice. 

“Peter...”

Peter froze completely as he heard his name pass her lips. It sounded so sad, so… pitiful. It kinda pissed him off, but it also made him ache with shame. He could hear the ‘ What happened to you?’

There was no way she could know that he was there and waiting for her to leave, but at the same time it felt like she did. Peter felt like a kid fake sleeping so his mom would leave and he could get back to his cool dinosaur book hidden under the blankets. 

What would you say about this? What would you do if you were here right now? Force him to deal with it? Call him an idiot and talk to MJ yourself?

He didn’t have to wonder for long. The overwhelming thoughts had distracted him from the sound of you waking up alone in the next apartment. There was a moment of silence save for your quiet footsteps before your front door opened.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but I heard you knocking. Thin walls and all that. If you’re looking for Peter, he’s not home. He left around 10 to go run some errands or something.” Peter listened, mildly impressed as the lie rolled off your tongue with ease. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was only 11, which meant that he could be out of the house the whole day. MJ wasn’t the type to sit around and wait for someone.

“Oh. I didn’t realize. Thank you. And you are..?” His ex asked politely, that famed reporter charisma in her voice. She was suspicious of something, or someone? Did MJ know that you were lying for him?

You didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. “Peter’s hungover neighbor. He asked me to keep an eye out for one of his packages and you knocked on his door so I thought… You know.” You trailed off in a tone that made it obvious that anybody could put the pieces together.

Peter was impressed. You were pretty good at lying. If he didn’t hear your heart racing slightly faster than usual he’d fully believe what you said. Then again, MJ was a whole different story. She lived for sleuthing and figuring shit out. She was way smarter than he was when it came to-

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb anybody. When you see him next, can you tell him I’d like to speak with him? It’s important.” 

And fuck if that didn’t start a new round of anxious throbbing in Peter’s chest.

You let out a noise of agreement. “I’ll be sure to let him know. Have a nice day.” 

Peter expected for that to be it. MJ would turn and walk away, you would go back into your apartment and close your door. Simple as that. But his brows furrowed in confusion as neither woman moved from where they stood. 

He was even more confused when he sensed you lean against the doorway, clearly having no intention of moving now. 

What was going on out there?

~

“Ah, I realize I didn’t even give you my name. I’m Mary Jane Watson.”

You stared at the redhead before you, thinking about your next response. You knew exactly who she was. MJ Watson (formerly Parker) was the face of The Daily Bugle, which practically everyone in New York read. But you weren’t going to say ‘Yeah, I used to read your articles all the time!’ and be all buddy with her.

She broke your friend’s heart, like hell you were going to let her into your good graces with that dimpled smile. Your subscription to the Bugle was officially canceled.

“Charmed.” Your expression was anything but. Honestly you were still feeling horrible from the hungover sobfest you had with Peter and you wanted to get back to that.

Mary Jane looked once more at Peter’s door before clearing her throat and giving an awkward smile. “Well then, have a nice day.” She said as she finally turned to walk down the hall.

You didn’t move from your spot until you were sure she was in the elevator going down. After that, you went to Peter’s door and knocked with an expectant look at the peephole. 

“I know you’re in there hiding. She’s gone.”

For a moment you second guessed your inference, but the door slowly opened to reveal a surprised Peter staring down at you. “How did you..?”

You crossed your arms. “I woke up when you closed the window.” Your eyes flickered over to your apartment and suddenly your confident demeanor disappeared. “Do you… wanna come back and talk about what just happened?” You offered, hoping that the situation didn’t totally ruin the bonding time you two spent together. 

Sure the two of you had been asleep, but it was two and a half hours . You had never been so comfortable sleeping on someone. Whether Peter realized it or not, he was someone important to you now.

Peter’s surprise stare melted into a small, genuine smile that took your breath away. His eyes, which usually looked so tired and dull, were warm and swirling with something similar to gratitude. It made the corners of his eyes scrunch up just slightly with crows feet that only added to an overall more youthful look.

Oh no. He’s kinda cute when he smiles like that.

You stiffened and tried to shake the thought from your head, barely catching the ‘sure’ from your neighbor. “Great. Just.. come.” 

He followed you back into your apartment, but next was a matter of where to get comfortable. You originally planned on going back into your bed and taking him down with you, but would he be comfortable with that? Maybe the couch would be better. Or maybe we should just sit at the table? Maybe-

Peter walked past you, kicking off his shoes before plopping onto your bed and letting out a loud groan. “This mattress is heaven, oh wow that’s nice…” He shifted a little and his back let out a crack.

You snorted at the scene before you, watching as Peter shifted around on your bed like a pig in mud. The snort turned into a soft laughter, which eased your nerves and allowed you to slide right beside him in your bed. “I’m guessing that board you call a mattress isn’t very comfortable, mm?” You teased. 

Peter shook his head. “Nah, I broke my back a while ago and it still bothers me sometimes. This… this is like sleeping on a cloud.” He grinned over at you, the frown lines around his mouth melting away as he gave you yet another smile.

You decided to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat. “How’d you break your back?” That was a good way to distract yourself from Peter’s now stretching form. You looked away so he wouldn’t catch you staring.

“Well, sounds way worse than it is. I fell out of a window.” Your eyes widened in horror as you thought of Peter falling from one of the many tall buildings in the city. How did someone even fall out of a window? “It was only the second floor though.”

Relief filled your being. “Oh thank god it was only the second floor. I thought the worst, like thirty stories or something.” You laughed and waved it off. “But that would be silly, that would kill someone immediately and you’re right here.” 

Instead of an echoing round of laughter, all you got were a few dry chuckles from Peter. “Yeah. That would be silly. So, I don’t know about you but I’m really trying to sleep in this thing. How are we doing this? Are we..?” He raised an arm hesitantly, letting you make the decision on whether you wanted to nap on your own or snuggled into his arms.

Like you’d pass that up.

You quickly made yourself comfortable in his arms, finding the perfect position and practically melting against him. A soft sigh of contentment escaped you.

“Thank you for covering for me. I… couldn’t face her.” Peter admitted after a few moments of silence. 

You looked up at him, finding that he was staring pretty hard at your wall. “I heard her voice and I froze up. It’s been almost two weeks and I’m still not over it.” His frown returned and you watched as his eyes grew sharper and more critical. “I should be stronger than this.”

“Hey.” You frowned and sat up slowly, absently noting that his hand hadn’t moved from your hip but rather moved with it. “You were married to her Peter. She’s been a constant for a long fucking time. Of course you’re not over it yet. You love her and you’re hurting. It’s called being human.” 

Peter stared at you, confliction in his eyes. You could tell he was wrestling with something mentally. The way his mouth shifted and eyes flickered away when you made eye contact meant that he was hiding something that he wanted to let out.

You weren’t the type to push though. Peter didn’t need someone to push him, he just needed support. “Listen, I know I wasn’t with Adam for as long as you were with her, but I know heartbreak. I would’ve married him Peter, I was so in love with him I even thought of what color to paint our kitchen when we got our dream house.” You shook your head and let out a little laugh to cover up to ache in your chest.

“So yeah it’s been less than two weeks, you need longer to move on and nobody can give you shit for it. It’s your life, no one else should tell you how to live it.” You bit the inside of your cheek when you saw your words weren’t getting through to him. “Except for the fact that you need to clean up your apartment, it smelled like old chinese and pizza grease.” 

Peter’s lips twitched a little at your teasing and he looked down at you with appreciation in his gaze. “Yeah yeah, we can’t all work and eat at fancy restaurants you know.” He sassed with a squeeze to your side for emphasis. Unfortunately you really should’ve been paying better attention to where his hand was resting because as soon as he squeezed…

“AH!” You jumped in his arms and let out a startled sound as he managed to unknowingly find your tickle spot. Both of you froze, eyes locked onto each other’s faces as you both realized what was about to happen.

“Peter…” You trailed off, trying to delay the inevitable from happening.

The man’s lips curled into a wicked grin. It was the last thing you saw before his fingers started rapidly attacking your sides, a loud screech of surprise escaping you. You collapsed into laughter, squirming and giggling and trying to get away from Peter. It was useless though, it was like each finger knew exactly where to touch you to get you squealing like a pig.

Finally the fingers stilled, each one still pressed to your skin with the threat to resume at any moment. “Do you give up?” Peter asked with an air of superiority about him. From what you could see through the tears in your eyes he was grinning, eyes bright with laughter. The burning in your chest from laughing made the idea of conceding tempting, but you really hated to give in to anyone. 

“Going once…” Peter trailed off, his fingers twitching against your skin. The small touches made your heart race with something other than fear of being tickled. 

“Twice…” A jolt of adrenaline snapped your focus from the intimate touches. You couldn’t think while being this close to him, so unfortunately you had to tap out before it could get any more uncomfortable.

“I give, I give. I really hate being tickled.” You lightly slapped his hands away from your sides. “Assume the position or paws off, Parker.” You tried to look threatening with a glare in his direction, but it was kind of hard for him to be intimidated by someone who was trying to get cozy on his chest.

You were wrapped in two strong arms that made a warmth spread through you from your head to your toes. Something about being held like this made you feel so safe, like nothing could hurt you. It had you melting into Peter’s embrace, eyes sliding closed and face nuzzling into his chest.

Yeah. Feeling this nice could definitely get dangerous. You had no intentions of holding back now though, not when things were starting to feel so nice…

The heartbeat under your ear slowed into a peaceful thrumming, meaning Peter was just as comfortable here as you were. That thought alone made your cheeks warm pleasantly. Maybe it was the way his fingers traced abstract characters in your skin, maybe you were touch starved and craving physical intimacy that went beyond quickies before bed. Maybe you were just lonely.

But the feeling of Peter’s form against yours filled a hole in your chest that, while temporary, allowed you to fall asleep without the ache of missing someone close.

~

Once again when you woke up it was alone in your bed. There was a silence in the apartment that made you uncomfortable. The warmth you had fallen asleep feeling was now cold, the pillow you were cuddled into an impersonal substitute for what you had before.

You frowned when you didn’t hear Peter in your apartment. There was no shuffling in your bathroom, so you assumed he went back to his own place. You tried not to feel personally hurt that he left without so much as a goodbye again .

The note on your nightstand was missed as you got up to go knock on his door. You hoped that immediately going to his place after waking up didn’t seem to clingy.

There was no response when you knocked. Not even so much as a clearing of the throat or a shuffling away from the door. It seemed like he wasn’t home, but there was a part of you that felt like he was hiding… something.

You went back to your room and shut the door, your mind starting to race now that you were alone. Still you did not see the note, but when you looked to the window another idea came to mind. “Oh boy, what am I doing?” You mumbled and walked over to climb out onto the fire escape. 

You stood up and looked over the city, genuinely awestruck by the view. This was the first time in the time that you lived here that you took the time to look outside. It was… very nice. You were sure it would have a good view of the sunset in a few hours. 

The view should be the last thing on your mind though. You looked over at the window that connected to Peter’s apartment and chewed on the inside of your cheek. You just had to make sure he wasn’t avoiding you like he had been MJ. If he wasn’t in his apartment, he was probably out doing something important. 

So you slowly inched closer to the window and looked, only to find that his apartment was empty. No sign of Peter. The light wasn’t even on in his bathroom, so you figured he really was out. That was enough for you, no need to step foot inside and risk disturbing the delicate display of unpacked boxes and old takeout containers.

You idiot. You thought to yourself as you went back to your own apartment. Why would he be avoiding you in the first place? So you cuddled and fell asleep together again. You were crying and getting snot all over his shirt not too long ago too! He didn’t mind that!

Once you were back in your own apartment you spotted the note on your nightstand. “Oh my god.” You facepalmed before picking the note up, more frustrated with yourself than anything.

Hey, got called into work to deal with an emergency. Tried to wake you but you sleep like the dead. 

-PP

You snorted at his initials and waved his note. “Peepee.” You giggled childishly before inspecting the note once again. The handwriting seemed so familiar for some reason. 

“He has such pretty handwriting for a guy.” You commented before shoving it into your side table drawer with the other forgotten notes, pens, etc.

Seeing as how you didn’t know what to do with your time now that your one friend was out and about, you turned on the TV to the NY News. You had it on in the background as you looked through your fridge, spotting the perfect beverage for when you were alone with your thoughts. 

White wine.

You hummed happily as you popped the bottle open and poured it into a glass. The taste was familiar on your tongue as you sipped it, the liquid providing the warmth you missed in another person. 

You were about to plop down onto your couch and sit in your own self pity, but your eyes flickered over to the television where a live segment was going on about… Spider-Man!

He was fighting some new villain who had it in his head that he was going to be the next supervillain worthy of being Spider-Man’s arch nemesis. It turned out to be some guy who was upset with his life as an inventor and wanted to join in on the heroes vs. villains fight. 

“He’ll make a great villain in prison.” You snorted as you poured yet another glass of wine. 

The liquid ended up over your counter and floor in a spit take as Spider-Man was hurled through a glass building by a metallic arm. It looked as if the man got his inspiration for his weapons from Doc Ock, but unfortunately it wasn’t like you could ask either of them.

“Well, maybe I could ask Spider-Man next time I see him…” You murmured as you started wiping up the mess of spilled wine. In your non-cleaning hand was, guess what? A fresh glass of wine. 

You frowned as you drained the last glass with ease. You needed to pick up larger wine glasses, it was hard to limit yourself to two glasses when the drinks were so small. 

“Looks like I need to run to the store.” You said with a sigh. The wine was nearly finished, only a bit left around the bottom that you quickly drained straight from the bottle. You glanced to the tv, seeing that Spider-Man wrapped up the fight with the guy so it was probably safe for you to go out. 

So you quickly changed into a pair of sweats and threw on your favorite hoodie. It’s a little too big on your frame and there’s a few too many holes scattered around the fabric, but it brought you too much comfort when you were alone and needed to feel safe. 

It seemed that the people in your neighborhood were either unaware of or were used to the shenanigans in your city because the sidewalks were packed as people tried to get to where they needed to be. The clock on your phone read 4:52pm, which meant you decided to come out right in the middle of rush hour. 

Luckily you didn’t need to go far, just to the Deli down the block. You picked up two bottles of wine (better safe than sober), a bag of Cheetos (you get snacky), and because you saw it and you’re an adult who can make her own decisions, you grabbed a silly straw.

You paid, ignoring the amused look of the guy behind the register. There were no age restrictions on silly straws, so you didn’t need to be judged.

Afterwards you walked back home, humming the song you heard playing on the radio back in the Deli. “And eveeeryyyyyyday~, love me your own special way~ Melt all my heart away with a smile~ .” You sang to yourself, perhaps a little too loud if the curious and amused looks meant anything. Well, what’s a drunk person supposed to do when coming down with a case of earworm?

“Someone seems to be in a good mood.” Came a familiar chuckle. You looked up with wide eyes to see none other than the local web shooter. “Hey you! Good going with that asshole villain. I saw on the news!” You congratulated him with a bubbliness that was equal parts your enthusiasm and wine.

“Thank you. Hopefully he stays a while in Rykers.” He said with a grumble to his voice that made you wonder if Spider-Man ever got tired. 

“Do they ever?” The look he gave you, even with the mask on, was enough to make you want to take back your comment. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Not like it isn’t the truth. Anyway, what’s got you singing Heatwave, mm? Someone special got your spirits up?” He asked in a more casual, relaxed tone. Maybe he just wanted to move the subject away from crime, not that you were complaining.

You snorted and shifted your bag of white wine to your opposite hand, the plastic bag digging into the meat of your fingertips. “Nah, I just heard the song in the deli and it got stuck, you know?” You shrugged and started walking back towards your apartment complex, figuring he’d follow like he did last time.

“That’s good, I was worried for a second that someone was replacing me as your favorite hero.” Spider-Man teased as he followed just as you predicted.

“You’re not just a hero, you know? You’re a friend. Don’t you remember last time?” You tsked in playful scolding before looking back up at him. “But I’m sorry to say you’re not my favorite friend, that title belongs to someone else.” Your drunk mind didn’t register what you said until after it left your mouth, which left your face feeling rather warm and your expression rather sheepish.

He dropped down to hang upside down in front of you, the whites of his mask shaped almost like he was raising an eyebrow with what you assumed was curiosity. “Yeah? And who is this other friend who’s cooler than your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

It didn’t occur to you that maybe it was a rhetorical question, or a joke. The answer was on your lips before you could weigh the question in your mind.

“Peter Parker.”

It all happened in the span of a second. His eyes went wider, you heard him inhale sharply as if he was about to say something. Only then a ‘snap’ sounded and Spider-Man was on the concrete floor with a loud groan.

You took in the scene before you and raised a shaking hand up to your mouth to muffle the beginnings of your giggles. The usually so suave and graceful Spider-Man just fell to the floor after his web snapped. The guy did somersaults hundreds of feet in the air with ease and yet he fell 5 feet above the ground. 

He glared up at you, the narrow slits of white threatening to send you into a state of full bellied laughter. “It’s not nice to laugh at people when they fall you know.” He grunted as he stood up and crossed his arms.

You calmed down enough to notice that the two of you were actually right outside your apartment building. “Oh shit, guess it’s time to go. See you around Spidey!” You waved at him as you turned to leave, wondering if by any chance Peter was home yet. It was hard to tell since you didn’t know what a ‘work emergency’ was.

You honestly thought was unemployed before now.

“Wait, you don’t want to hang out a little more? Usually you’re chattier when you’re drunk.” The webslinger asked as he stuck to the wall over the threshold of your building. 

He was right, the past two times you two crossed paths were a lot longer than today. You would’ve tried inviting him upstairs to hang out again, but if you were to be honest you were hoping to order pizza and watch a movie or two with Peter. 

You opened your mouth to explain your plan before your mind reeled backwards. Saying those words to just anyone would make the plans seem romantic . You didn’t want to ruin what could be the beginnings of a pure friendship with the threat of feelings, especially since the both of you just went through a mountain of emotional turmoil. What you and Peter had was special, and while Spider-Man was amazing for saving lives, he didn’t get to know everything about your life.

So you just had to bend the truth to a superhero to spare his feelings and your sanity. “I’d invite you up to hang out, but I’m honestly going to take a bath and head back to sleep. I woke up from a nap on the wrong side of the bed and I have the only headache. Wine helps.” You said with the same ease you had in lying to MJ earlier. 

It seemed to work because after a few seconds of staring he nodded and gave you a salute. “Make sure to get some rest and drink water. See you around!” He webbed around the building and out of your sight without another word.

“Okay then… Bye.” You frowned at how quick he rushed to leave but you went up to your apartment nonetheless. 

After a quick call to Leo’s you started putting the new wine bottles in the fridge. When you heard the sound of a door unlocking in the next apartment you felt your breath hitch in an unexplainable excitement. Peter was home!

In your haste to leave your apartment, the fridge door was stopped from closing by one of the wine bottles you left on the floor. Before you could think it over your hand was knocking on 

Peter’s door. As it was opening your heart raced with the sudden realization that you looked like a moron waiting for him to get home.

You froze and stared at Peter, taking in the bruises on his face and swelling of his nose. All worries of looking like a stalker faded away and was replaced by panic and worry. “What the fuck happened to your face? Who did this?” The stark contrast of his pale skin and shiny purple bruises made your skin prickle with an intense emotion you weren’t sure how to identify.

Peter stared back with emotions ranging from surprise, confusion, to something else you couldn’t quite place. He coughed and looked away, his cheeks catching the faintest bit of pink. “How dumb am I gonna look if I admit I fell down the stairs?” He mumbled sheepishly.

Your anger diminished and but your worry still remained. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Did you break anything?” Your eyes started scanning over his body and you took a step closer. Your hand twitched towards him out of desire to check him over but you pulled it away before you crossed any unknown boundaries. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” 

You looked up to inspect his face again only to be met with an intense stare. Your heart skipped a beat at the way he seemed to stare into your soul, as if you were the one hurt and he was checking you over.

In your staring you didn’t realize he was actually saying something. It wasn’t your fault, he just had those really pretty deep brown eyes that were easy to get lost in…

Okay, I’m gonna blame that on the wine.

You manage to make out what Peter ended up saying. “What do you mean you don’t have insurance? How… fuck.” You were going to ask how it was possible for a man in his mid 30’s to not have insurance before realizing that it wasn’t your place to ask that. You didn’t know if the divorce left Peter with insurance problems, you didn’t know what kind of benefits his job had. You didn’t know therefore it wasn’t your place to judge.

You shook your head and settled him with a small smile. “Come to mine, I’ll see what I can do to patch you up. I already ordered Leo’s so… you’re kind of already obligated to come over.” You revealed, smile melting into a grin when you realized your plan for pizza and movies could very well happen now.

Peter seemed to like the idea, but his face still held confusion. “Weren’t you taking a bath?” Hs question made your blood freeze in your veins. You only said that to… “I thought I heard the bath running. Must’ve been the apartment upstairs or something.” He said quickly, as if he could read your mind.

The weight on your shoulders lifted and you felt like you could breathe easy again. After all, just the idea of… nah. “Nope, I just got back from the Deli with some wine and thought we could do pizza and movies.” You admitted, now feeling just a little bit clingy. Maybe you should just ease back and let him breathe? The two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently…

“Are you kidding? You had me at pizza. Come on, also you better have something else to drink besides wine. I don’t drink, unlike some people.” He teased as he followed you back to your door.

“Well at least even drunk I can say I’ve never fallen down the stairs.” You sassed back with a smug smirk. You didn’t laugh before when you thought he was in more pain, but now that you knew he was fine you could appreciate how funny the situation was. 

Peter grumbled and was about to accept his loss until he saw your open fridge. It took a few seconds for him to process before he turned to grin at you. 

“Did you get so excited to see me that you forgot to close the door?”

You blamed the wine for the way your face heated.

“Shut up!”

Notes:

A lot of cuddling. I just like the idea of two touch starved idiots being happy together. Is that so bad?

Chapter 6

Two weeks.

Two weeks since the first sobfest that in turn led to a whole new dynamic between the two of you. 

Unfortunately between his responsibilities as Spider-Man, your demanding work schedule, and whatever else life threw at you, it was hard to find a time to just relax. So far you only managed to nap together three more times, each time making Peter crave your warmth that much more after the two of you parted. 

By this time he knew there was no point in being ashamed of wanting to cuddle. It’s nice to feel safe with someone dammit. He thought defensively. Some people had to shell out a buttload of money for ‘professional cuddlers’ while someone wanted him to cuddle for free. So this was an absolute win in his eyes.

Yet, he knew he was in trouble.

Why?

Because the way his heart fluttered when you snuggled closer to him was concerning. 

On the slow days when crime takes a break and you’re cooking for the masses, Peter is left alone in his apartment to think. That’s where he was now, only instead of thinking about the hurt from his divorce like usually did, his mind was on you.

He enjoyed the connection he had with you. As it stood you were the only part of his day (besides food) that he actually looked forward to. You became his best friend who made him laugh and didn’t guilt him about the (admittedly shitty) life he led. Sure there was an occasional jab to the state of his apartment, but nothing that made him uncomfortable. Your comments even motivated him to clean the place up a little! (There were still a few moving boxes unpacked, but baby steps.)

But while he enjoyed your friendship greatly, he found himself pulling you a little closer every time you curled into him. His eyes would rarely stray from your face when you told a story. And on your short days when you came early and he got to watch you cook, his heart would race when you offered him a taste of whatever was on the end of your spoon. 

Your friendship was filled with a surprising amount of casual, comfortable intimacy and he loved it. While the two of you didn’t always get to make a day out of laying in your (very comfortable) bed, you did see each other daily.

Since you left so early for work he didn’t see you in the mornings, the only exception being when you had days off. So most days he’d greet you when you came home, a to-go bag in hand with food for two. He was never able to confirm it but he was pretty sure your restaurant only cooked to order, which meant you went out of your way to cook for him at the end of your shift.

You were just so thoughtful. Having someone that actively thought about Peter Parker just because they could was something he missed. Usually the few people who worried about Peter were the ones who knew about Spider-Man. They were always worried about how being Spider-Man affected him. It was nice to have someone who worried about him as a normal guy.

It made him feel things. You made him feel things. 

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

The smell of steak was mouthwatering as it entered Peter’s nose. It announced your presence from work before the knock on his door did, and fuck if he didn’t jump off of his futon to go answer.

Seeing your bright smile was infectious. “Welcome home. Your place?” He assumed, figuring you’d want to freshen up after a full day in the kitchen. You nodded, fanning your face dramatically with your hand. “The AC is still on the fritz in the restaurant, so we feel double the heat in the kitchen. I smell like a charcoaled gym sock.” 

Peter laughed and took in your appearance. Your face did have an extra sheen of sweat going on and there were flyaways galore coming from your pulled back hair. Yet for as exhausted as you were, you were still in a good mood. He had to wonder your secret.

“Alright, let’s go.” He followed you next door and headed for the oven immediately. He set it to preheat before heading over to the bag you brought home today. He pulled out two boxes with food still hot from the kitchen and nearly started salivating. Instead of digging in, he set the boxes in the oven to keep warm.

Meanwhile you were already in the shower, getting the grime of the day off while Peter set up in the kitchen. It was a system you two worked out after the fourth time he came over for dinner. 

Once when you tried to bring food back for Peter, you ended up neglecting a shower in order to be a good host. You entertained him and watched movies as usual (you didn’t try to snuggle up to him at that time, you did have standards) before going to sleep with the intention of showering in the morning before work. You forgot and ended up with double the stink.

Another time you came home exhausted and accidentally knocked both open to-go boxes into the sink. A tragic accident, but at least Leo’s was still open at the time. 

After seeing your struggle, Peter offered to take over kitchen duty when you brought food back from work. You’d have time to take a quick 5 minute shower while he kept the food warm and set up the table. It worked really well and at this point it was becoming a habit. Something comfortable. This was another thing Peter liked.

Ten minutes later and Peter was watching TV when he heard you coming out of the bathroom. The bathroom door swung open and the apartment was filled with the smell of fresh soap and cocoa butter. The familiar scent had Peter instinctively turning towards the source. He nearly choked taking a breath when he saw you.

Peter was pretty sure you didn’t own a set of pajamas. You either wore shorts or leggings and a baggy t-shirt to bed. He had seen you in shorts before and could say that, as a female, you had nice legs. But he wasn’t a teenager, he wasn’t going to get hot and bothered over seeing some skin.

However, seeing you wearing shorts and one of his shirts felt like being sucker punched in the gut with pure heat . 

“W-where did you get that?” Peter managed to croak out, pointing at his Midtown High School shirt with a twitching finger. The shirt ended just above the bottom of your shorts, which made it seem like you were wearing nothing under it at first glance.

You were going to give him a heart attack.

“It was in my laundry, is it yours or something?” You frowned and you started to rub the hem of the shirt with your fingers, drawing Peter’s eyes down to your thighs again.

Did they always look that soft?

“Peter?” 

His eyes snapped back up and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah it is.” Was all he could say. 

You looked at him as if waiting for him to say something more, but he couldn’t really form words at this point. The image of you wearing his shirt was the only thing he could focus on. He stood up to go pull dinner from the oven to try and recollect himself. He wouldn't be useful sitting there and staring. With his back towards you, he missed the way you were observing his reactions.

“Dude, do you want your shirt back? You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm.”  

You’d probably prefer that if you knew what I was thinking.

“Why did you wear it if you knew it wasn’t yours?” Peter deflected as he carried the takeout boxes to the table. The scent of the food was enough to regain his focus so he could turn and look at you. 

You looked down, sounding almost like a scolded child as you answered. “It’s comfortable. I’ll take it off and wash it before giving it back-

“Keep it.”

"Really?" He cut you off, watching as surprise and delight graced your face. “It looks good on you. Just come here and eat. I’m starving and I can’t with a clear conscience eat unless you do too.” And just like that, your smile returned and any mild tension was now gone.

Another thing Peter liked about you.

~

After dinner and a nature documentary you were ready to hit the sack. You yawned and stretched out in the middle of the room, feeling the burn of Peter's eyes on your body. You stayed quiet about it though. “So, I have the day off tomorrow.” You said once you sat down on the edge of your bed.

Peter leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. “Yeah? Are we doing an all dayer?” While he seemed tired before, now he seemed to get a second burst of energy after hearing about your day off.

You shook your head. “Unfortunately I can’t stay at home all day, I have to run some errands since I rarely have the time. And I was thinking…” You gripped the hem of the shirt you were wearing as you built up the courage to speak over your pounding heart.

“Maybe you can spend the night tonight?”

It was nerve wracking to ask because you weren’t sure if sleepovers were on the unwritten list of things that were okay between the two of you.

One night the two of you were watching La Reina del Sur, a guilty pleasure for the both of you, when you felt a belch coming on. You were drinking soda and usually when you do that, you belch. So you let out a long, loud belch that rivaled a tiger’s growl. This was nothing new to you, in fact it was a little family tradition to rate belches on a scale from 1-10 based on depth, volume, and length of belch. (You were proud to say you had a solid 9 that day.)

It was only after you caught Peter staring at you, eyes bugged out, that you remembered he had never seen or experienced you doing such a thing. Your face went red so fast that you felt a little lightheaded. You could feel the inside of your cheek protesting where you were biting it as panic started to settle in...

Until Peter relaxed, turned back to the TV, and proceeded to rip the loudest fart you’ve heard in a while.

It was deadly silent after, nothing but the tension hanging in the air.

It started with your quiet snort.

You and Peter fell against each other in a round of boisterous laughter, the intensity increasing until you were doubled over in silent, gut wrenching tremors. If not for the sounds of wheezing cackles anyone would’ve thought you were crying in pain with how much you were shaking. 

It was when the two of you became comfortable on a whole different level, completely by accident! 

And now here you were, offering the branch that served as another possible dynamic change for the two of you. Now, like all the other times you put yourself out there, you felt your heart race in anticipation as you feared the worst.

“Fuck yes, first of all you never have to ask twice if it involves me getting to sleep in that bed.” 

Now, like the times before, you felt the tension leave your body as Peter unknowingly quelled your anxieties with ease. 

The feeling of warmth that squeezed your heart when the two of you got comfortable in bed should’ve made you think twice, but it didn't. It just urged you to snuggle in closer to Peter’s warmth and get lost in the feeling of strong arms holding you.

~

Waking up was usually a painful thing. It included an alarm that rang at 4:30am, snoozing said alarm in protest of the outside world, and consequently hating yourself for nearly being late to work.

This morning you woke up on your own, no alarms interrupting your dreams. The light that streamed through your curtain actually didn’t irritate you this morning since you didn’t wake up with a hangover.

Your nose was filled with the scent of spiced banana bread and off-brand Febreeze. It was a unique scent that you learned to associate with Peter. Smelling it around the apartment after Peter always left made you smile, so waking up to the source had you feeling warm inside.

You tried not to read too much into the feeling, instead nuzzling against Peter’s shoulder and closing your eyes in hopes of going back to sleep.

“I figured you’d be the cuddly type in the morning.” Peter’s chuckle vibrated his chest under your cheek. You didn’t even realize he was awake.

“What was your first clue, Parker?” You brushed the teasing off, ignoring the minor heat in your cheeks at being caught red handed. It wasn’t your fault the man was so comfortable. Sometimes you felt like a cat and Peter’s body called to you like a steady stream of sunlight on a soft blanket.

You reluctantly sat up, kissing the fantasy of going back to sleep goodbye. A chuckle sounded from behind you and you turned back to look at your neighbor. 

Your breath caught as you stared into his eyes. They stared right back, eyes warm like swirls of milk chocolate you could dip a strawberry in. They held an intensity that left you frozen in the silence of the morning.

With the way your heart was racing, you were sure he’d be able to hear it. God, when did you turn into such a school girl? All it took was for him to stare at you for no longer than .02 seconds and you felt ready to melt back into his arms.

Unfortunately, as tempting as it was to get back into bed, you had errands to run on your ‘day off.’ 

Truthfully, you took the day off. Why? Simple…

You were greedy.

Ever since you and Peter started this platonic cuddling thing, you found yourself looking for any opening to touch him. Your head on his shoulder, thighs pressed together during a movie, taking a few seconds longer than necessary during goodbye hugs. You might’ve considered being more ashamed of your behavior if not for the way Peter so readily accepted your affections. 

In the beginning you brought food home out of guilt and nervousness. You assumed Peter would find this arrangement too strange and would leave without an extra incentive. You quickly learned that wasn’t the case, but seeing him gobble down your cooked food (even if he ate like a damn slob) stroked your ego to no end. As a result, dinner became another part of your daily routine with Peter. 

But an hour or two of cuddling a night wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel more of that warmth in your chest. Needed to feel the racing of another life under your cheek. Your sides felt so vulnerable and cold without his hands. You were able to get a taste of peaceful sleep during the rare short days when you were able to take a nap with him. The difference between those days and today?

You planned today. 

You selfishly planned to take the day off so you could offer for him to spend the night. That’s all. You took a vacation day because you wanted to know what it felt like to wake up in the arms of someone who needed you just as much as you needed them.

By the refreshed look on Peter’s normally exhausted face, you weren’t the only one who appreciated the feeling.

But you still had your pride, and there was no way you were going to admit to him that you took the day off just to stay snuggled into him all night, so it was time to get up. You didn’t really have anything today, your grocery shopping could’ve waited until the weekend but since you needed to save face, there was no better time.

“So, what kind of exciting errands are you running today?” Peter asked, not moving from his spot as you got out of bed. You were pretty sure that he’d spend all day there if you let him, he constantly sang praises for your mattress whenever he could. His shitty futon was another reason you wanted him to spend the night. It was probably killing his back and that bothered you more than it should.

Maybe he’d be more inclined to sleepover again soon since your bed was better than his?

“Grocery shopping, gotta drop off laundry down the block, you know. I also wanted to get a new sharpener for my knives actually…” Now that you thought about it, there were a few more things you meant to get done that you could do now that you had time. 

Your back was to him as you grabbed clothes from your dresser. 

“I’ll come with you.”

“Excuse me?” You turned on your heels to look at him with a raised eyebrow, watching his confidence melt into nervousness. “Uh, I mean if you want I could keep you company. I don’t need to come though, I just…”

You took pity on him and held a hand up to stop him from spiralling. “Hey, don’t worry about it, I’m not mad or anything. It was just surprising. Didn’t think you’d want to spend the day running errands.” You explained with a small smile.

“Oh I don’t care about them-” Peter cut himself off with wide eyes before he could say anything else. His words made your heart skip a beat at the possible implications, but you refused to think about it for too long. 

“Cool, well, you should go get ready okay? I’m gonna just…” You immediately went into the bathroom and shut the door, pointedly refusing to acknowledge your flushed cheeks in the mirror.

When you came out of the bathroom you weren’t shocked to see the bed empty. Except this time you did see the note on your nightstand, folded neatly with a pen on top.

 

Sorry, another work emergency. Won’t be able to go with you today. Sorry :(

 

-P

You chewed on the inside of your cheek to hide your disappointment. To be honest you were really looking forward to spending the day with him, even just to run errands. Maybe it was for the better though, you didn’t want to get used to domesticity with Peter.

Liar.

Ignoring the nagging voice in the back of your mind, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment.

~

“Stacey, you just don’t get it. He’s divorced . Like, the ink hasn’t even dried on his papers.” You grumbled to your friend as she ate up your drama like it was popcorn.

After dropping off your laundry, going to the post office, and stopping by the bank, you were taking a break at a coffee shop with Stacy. She was really the only friend you trusted besides Peter anymore, all of your other friends basically lost in your recent breakup with both your ex boyfriend and ex best friend. 

“So you mean you have no problems snuggling up with this guy and cooking him dinner daily, but you won’t tell him you want to climb him like a tree?” She asked, casually sipping on her drink and watching you sputter until you were red in the face.

“I never said I wanted to-”

“Do you?”

You sat back in your chair. Both of you were silent, but Stacy raised an accusing eyebrow. 

If you thought about Peter on a physical level then yes, you were very attracted to him. You were woman enough to admit when you liked a man and you liked Peter. On a physical level he was gorgeous. Tall, muscular, and those arms. He made you feel safe and that was one of the biggest turn ons about him.

Emotionally you were also very attached to Peter. “I took a day off today just so I could wake up in bed with him.” You admitted, looking to Stacy with a conceding frown. “Stace… It’s more than wanting to jump his bones.” You were surprised at how un surprised you were to hear yourself say that. Then again, one of your fears when talking to Spider-Man was that he was going to over-sexualize what you had with Peter.

“So you like him. That’s good. Wh y are you stressing then? You need something good. You deserve something good.” She put a hand over yours, taking a break from the playful teasing to give you a serious look. “You should pursue him. If he’s hot and loves to cuddle as much as you say he does, then I don’t know why you’re not still in bed with him right now. ”

You swirled the contents of your drink with the straw, no longer interested in it. “Well his divorce-”

“Is not stopping him from eating your food, sleeping in your bed, and taking up your brain space. You’re a grown woman, not a blushing teenager. Are you going to wait for him to ask you to prom or are you going to put your big girl panties on and ask him on a real date? A hot catch who pays her own bills? He’d be an idiot to say no.”

You shut your mouth after that. Stacy was right. What were you doing here, whining over a guy? The only one who had the power to make you happy was yourself, and the person that would really make you happy was Peter. If he didn't feel the same...

But he does. You weren’t an idiot, you knew exactly what you did to him when you wore his shirt last night. If you really wanted to, you probably could’ve seduced him right there!

“You’re right. You’re completely right.” A new excitement tingled under your skin. Suddenly you couldn’t wait to get home and see Peter.

Stacy nodded wisely, her eyes closed as she over exaggerated bow. “Now you know never to doubt me. Go get your mans.” 

Your face broke out into a grin and you got up to hug her tight. “I’ll text you with details later!” You quickly grabbed your trash, waving a hand in goodbye as you left in a hurry.

Stacy watched you stumble through the door and run out of sight. 

“Dense as shit, I swear.”

~

You headed back home with a new pep in your step, butterflies fluttering in your belly as you thought of what you were going to say to Peter.

A strangely familiar groan caught your attention though and you turned to find the source. There was an alley nearby, a little darker than you were comfortable with. You found yourself frozen, a dilemma forming.

What if it’s a trap? I don’t want to get jumped in broad daylight! Your eyes flickered around for what to do as another grunt sounded, definitely from the alley. You could hear some heavy breathing as you took a few steps closer.

Suddenly your eyes landed on a bloody handprint high up on the wall- way too high for a normal human to reach. Your eyes widened and you took another couple steps forward to find another smeared handprint. 

And another. More smear than handprint.

You entered the alley to see a mass of red and blue in a puddle of blood on the alley floor.

“Spidey?”

Chapter 7

Notes:

Sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter!! At least ya'll didn't have to wait too long for the continuation! Happy reading all!

You kicked the door shut as you helped the wounded hero into your apartment. You laid him on the bed without a care for your sheets, more worried about your friend than how bloody it was about to get.

“Do painkillers have any affect on you? What exactly is- oh!” Just as you turned to look at the hero, he deflated his suit and started pulling it off. His mask remained on, but he was struggling to pull down the suit if his heavy breathing had anything to say about it.

You rushed over to help him, settling the suit around his waist to save him from unnecessary embarrassment of taking it off. “You aren’t hurt below the belt, right?” You asked, eyes wandering over his chest to see many dark bruises but only one wound. A slice just above his left hip that left the skin looking dark red with infection. 

While it looked serious, there was no way so much blood came from there. Your arm was covered in it, so you could only assume-

“N-no, but my back…” He gritted out between his teeth. While his face was covered, you could hear the grimace in his voice. 

Your eyes widened as you helped him turn onto his side, which by the sounds he made was very painful. Upon seeing his back, you could see why.

It was a large, bloody gash that, while not infected yet, had the potential to turn ugly. You jolted in shock and immediately started going to gather supplies.

You grabbed your sewing kit, antibacterial soap and water from the bathroom, along with all the towels you could carry. “I’ve got you Spidey, I can do this.” You assured, sounding more like you were reassuring yourself rather than him. No matter. He kind of had to trust that you were capable of helping since he had no other options.

“You’re gonna have to walk me through the stitching. I’m so sorry. Here.” You handed him an opened bottle of water and two painkillers. 

He stared at them hesitantly and you gave him a smile despite the situation. “I promise, these are just Oxy from when I got teeth pulled. I’d take one too but one of us has to stay sober to take care of you.” 

Spider-Man chuckled weakly. “Trust me, I’m not scared of you.” He took the pills and you reached over to help him out by pulling the mask over his mouth.

“I’d take that as an insult if you were anyone else. I have one hell of a right hook.” You joked as you watched the plastic bottle crackle in protest as he drank greedily. You set the empty bottle to the side so you could start cleaning his back with soap and a warm towel.

After listening carefully to his instructions on how to stitch up his back, you got to work. It took 30 minutes and the repeated shaking out of your sore arm, but you managed to do it. 

“I did it! Spidey, your back is done. I need to do your-” You leaned over him to find that the Oxy did the trick. He was sleeping quietly, his mask still pulled up over his mouth and revealing his slightly parted lips.

You relaxed knowing that he wasn’t in too much pain, if it was too unbearable he wouldn’t be sleeping so soundly. 

The cut on the front might’ve been smaller, but it was still somehow infected. You cleaned it and treated it properly thanks to google since someone fell asleep. 

Once you finished you got rid of all the bloodied towels and cleaned up the area as best as you could. You scrubbed the blood from your floor, thankful that as a female who got her period, you kept a lot of hydrogen peroxide which helped to get even the toughest blood stains out of the carpet.

After cleaning you took a look over at your sleeping guest, eyes scanning over his body now that he was safe, comfortable, and asleep. You frowned seeing the bloodied suit bunched up around his hips. 

I can’t leave him like that, he’s gonna be so uncomfortable. But I don’t have man clothes!

Unless…

You bit your lower lip as the thought entered your mind. If Peter was still handling that work emergency you could just sneak right into his apartment again.

You were on the fire escape before you could talk yourself out of it, slowly peeking in Peter’s window.

Still gone.

His window slid open with ease and you snorted in amusement. “Spidey should talk to him about locking his windows.” You murmured before easing your way inside. 

All you needed were a pair of sweatpants and you’d be fine! You just had to go in and out.

You headed for a box of Peter’s clothing he still managed to not unpack and pulled out a pair of sweatpants. This would be fine for Spidey, right? And if Peter noticed that it was gone, why would he blame you? It’s not like you came here to steal his clothing all the time. 

But real talk, how the hell did he believe that his shirt ended up in my laundry? Fool. This is the real reason why Spider-Man warns against leaving your windows unlocked.

You went back to your room to see that Spider-Man was still knocked out. While you were thankful he was resting easy, it posed another problem.

His suit needed to come off and you needed to get the sweatpants on.

“Oh fuck.” You murmured to yourself. Hopefully Spidey wasn’t nervous about being seen in his underwear because it was about to happen. 

You pulled the suit down over his hips and gasped when you realized there was no band of elastic where his underwear should be. Heat traveled from your cheeks to the tips of your ears as you closed your eyes to compose yourself.

Ignore the hot naked man. This is your friend, just relax and help him. He’s hurt.

Changing a superhero with your eyes closed wasn’t your favorite pastime and you could honestly say you’d rather not do it again. Once Spiderman was resting comfortably in a pair of clean sweats, you took the uniform to the bathroom to start trying to clean the blood out.

Somehow you felt like you had your work cut out for you.

~

Peter groaned when he woke up feeling foggy and warm. His skin felt as if millions of spiders were crawling over him as his advanced healing took affect. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep on your bed-

His eyes widened and his hand immediately moved up to check that his mask was still on, only to slap himself in the face when he forgot to restrain his strength. He was still a little floaty from the painkillers you gave him, but at least his mask was still in place.

A quiet snort caught his attention and his head shot up to see you watching him from the stove. He choked and waved sheepishly, feeling paralyzed now that he was wounded as Spider-Man in your apartment. He wouldn’t feel so embarrassed if you didn’t look so amused.

“Hello, sleeping beauty.” Peter swallowed as you walked over to him, picking up a water bottle from the fridge to offer the hero. “I figured you’d be thirsty. You need to stay hydrated. I’m also making dinner since your super healing probably works better when you have something nutritious in  you. When’s the last time you ate?”

Peter blinked at how casual and overall… not affectionate you were being. You explained everything to the point, but not once did you touch him. You didn’t try to sit in bed next to him, you didn’t even rub his shoulder to comfort him. 

Even as your fingers inspected his back, which was healing rather quickly, it felt more like a doctor inspecting him more than anything. “You’d be a good nurse, the stitches feel like they’re healing right. Shouldn’t be more than a day till I’m in top shape.” 

You made a noise to confirm you heard him. “You avoided my question. When’s the last time you ate?” He looked up to see  your arms crossed and eyebrows raised. 

“I guess that depends on how long I’ve been asleep.”

“A few hours. Like seven. It’s nine right now, hope you don’t mind eating late.” After giving him another once-over you went back to the stove and leaned against the counter. Peter was glad his mask hid his frown. He wasn’t used to you being so far away while still there .

He didn’t like it.

“I haven’t eaten today, whatever you’re making smells great though.” Peter swung his legs over to the side of the bed, freezing when he noticed he was no longer wearing his suit. 

“Uh.” 

He didn’t remember taking his suit off, and he definitely didn’t remember changing into his own sweats…

His head snapped up to look at you when your heartbeat picked up. You were looking away, embarrassment practically radiating from you as he realized what had to have happened while he was asleep.

“Your uh… your suit was caked in blood.” You mumbled sheepishly, the explanation making everything click together. Peter was once again grateful that he had his mask on, because his face was heated .

“Did you see it?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. While he hated himself for asking, he did watch for your reaction to his question. 

You shook your head quickly, cheeks still very red. “No!! Once I realized you didn’t have… anything on, I closed my eyes and kinda went with it. It was pretty easy, you can rest easy knowing nobody touched your junk while you were sleeping.” 

Peter knew you were joking towards the end, but as he started drinking from his water he couldn’t deny that he was relieved. He wouldn’t be able to live it down if the first time you saw him naked was while he was unconscious.

First time?

He choked on the water which then led him to coughing. He clutched his sides and groaned in pain as it agitated his healing back. 

“Spidey, you okay?” Suddenly there was a warm hand on his shoulder and Peter immediately put a hand over it while nodding. It was the most he could do without hugging you and weirding you out, especially since it technically wasn’t him you were close with, it was Peter Parker.

Weird.

Peter got up slowly, letting himself get a feel of exactly how much longer he needed to heal. He was a little sore and wheezed a little when he breathed, but he would be better tomorrow for sure. He just needed to eat and rest more and he’d be fine.

He headed for the bathroom, stopping only to turn and see you staring at him like he as going to fall at any moment. “I’m okay, promise.” He chuckled a little and turned back, going into the bathroom and shutting the door. 

While he was in the bathroom, he heard you step out of the apartment to go knock on Peter’s door. “Fuck.” He mumbled to himself, knowing that if Peter Parker stayed gone too long while Spider-Man stayed it would be suspicious. Luckily you hadn’t caught on yet, but you weren’t stupid.

Peter left the bathroom at the same time you came back, so he was able to catch your disappointed face when you came back without a response. Part of him, the foolish part he thought died years ago, really wanted to just rip his mask off and tell you the truth just to wipe the disappointment from your face. 

He knew that he couldn’t though. It just… wasn’t the right time to tell you. What if you freaked out? Fainted? What if you recognized the dangers of being involved with him and decided to move out?

Peter went still, the thought in itself almost impossible. Almost . But still possible. 

Watching you banging the dinner dishes as you made a plate for him was concerning. You looked mad, but Peter couldn't tell without seeing your face and your back was to him. 

“Hey, are you-” He put a hand on your shoulder only for it to be shaken off. His eyes widened and he pulled his hand back. “Sorry…” He trailed off, looking between you and his hand. You never moved away from him. Then again he wasn’t Peter, he was technically Spider-man. Did Spider-Man make you uncomfortable?

“I’m fine.” You said with a mutter, turning and walking around him with your plate in your hand. “Just eat, okay? Stupid men and not eating right. ” She muttered the last part to herself, but to Peter it was clear as if you spoke it normally.

He took the plate left for him on the counter and followed you over to the table. The sight of you sitting there, picking at your chicken alfredo with your fork worried him. He started eating anyway, feeling awkward in silence because he wasn’t used to it being there. Usually you’d be chatting about your day as he listened with full chipmunk cheeks. 

“My neighbor left this morning for a ‘work emergency’ and he still hasn’t been back.” You explained, hyper focused on the piece of chicken you were rolling with your fork. 

Realization dawned on Peter and his insecurities melted away. You weren’t mad at him, you were worried about him. “Maybe it’s just a really long emergency? Or he got caught up with a friend?” He suggested to calm your nerves.

But that seemed to have the opposite effect. Your eyes went wide and he could hear your heartbeat pick up. “M-Maybe.” You swallowed and sat back in your seat, leaving your still untouched dinner alone. “I’m not hungry. You can eat my food if you want.” 

Before Peter could protest you were out of your chair and instead going to your bed, which was still stained with blood from Spider-Man’s wounds. He watched with wide eyes as you wordlessly stripped the bed sheets, almost looking like you were on autopilot. 

Was it something I said?

I need to do something. I can’t just let her sit like this. If anything she’s even more bothered now.

Peter only ate half of his dinner before getting up and going over to you. “Hey, let me help okay? It’s my fault your sheets are bloody. Do you have-?” He watched as you pulled extra sheets from your closet before he could finish his sentence.

He pursed his lips and rubbed the back of his neck. “Alrighty, seems you have that under control, is there anything else I can do to help?” He shut up when you dropped the sheets and turned to face him.

You finally looked into his eyes and he froze when he saw unshed tears there. He had 

seen you cry before, but never over him.

You didn’t shed a tear for Spider-Man when he was hurt. If anything you were a natural at taking care of the wounded hero. Now you didn’t see Peter all day and you were crying for him. 

Peter pulled you into a hug without hesitation, unable to overcome the overwhelming urge to console you in the way he was used to doing. His hands immediately went to their usual spot folded behind your back, his head resting over yours.

He felt you tense up at the contact before shivering and melting into it like you usually did. You very carefully hugged him back, cautious of the cut on his back since his hip cut was now no more than a pink line. 

“Thank you.” You murmured and looked up at him, still teary eyed as you rested your cheek against his chest. The warmth against his bare skin caused a tint of pink to pass over his cheeks, luckily hidden by the mask.

You looked… really cute in that moment. Watery eyes big and looking up at him, like you were waiting for him to say something, do something. Maybe even...

His eyes flickered to your lips, plush and inviting. They were just there , waiting to be comforted. He started leaning down, his heart racing as he went for it. He was taking his leap of faith.

Only to be met with your cheek.

~

Your heart was racing as you felt Spider-Man’s lips touch your cheek. He was actually leaning in for a kiss to your lips, and you honestly wouldn’t have been mad if he did. You were an adult and you could do what you want, but one thing made you stop.

Peter. 

You couldn’t play kissy face with Spider-Man, not with your feelings for Peter. It just felt wong. You left the coffee shop today to come home and tell Peter your feelings, not to get swept off your feet by a hero!

Spider-Man pulled away, the whites of his mask wide as he let you go. “I uh… guess I read that wrong.” He laughed awkwardly, taking a few steps back to give you some much appreciated space.

“Sorry. It’s not that I wouldn’t but… I have someone.” You explained with flushed cheeks. The spot where Spider-Man’s lips touched now burned. Something about him felt familiar in a way that made you crave more, but you were firm in your decision. 

You missed the way the whites of Spider-Man’s eyes narrowed for just a second. “Ah. Sorry, I wasn’t aware since you never talk about him.” He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go check on my suit.”

You stared at the bed as he went into your bathroom and closed the door. Fuck, now it’s awkward as fuck. You chewed the inside of your cheek before quickly continuing to put the new sheets on your bed. 

By the time you were finished putting fresh sheets on your bed, the bathroom door opened. While you knew Spider-Man would be standing there, you weren’t prepared to see him wearing his torn and bloody suit. 

“I should get going. I’m well enough to swing and I’m sure you’re tired from your long day. Thank you for everything you’ve done so far.” He spoke quick and sure as he walked towards your window, not letting you get a word in.

“But-” You tried to speak, only for him to clear his throat when he pointed to the unlocked window. “I thought we talked about this.” He scolded before hopping out onto the fire escape.

“Wait!” You hissed and rushed over to the window. You settled him with a glare, angry that he would agitate his wounds just to escape an awkward situation. “Do you even have someone to change the gauze on your back? At least if you stay here I can help you if you need anything!” You huffed.

The hero shrugged. “My back will heal by the time the gauze needs changing. I can take care of it. Part of the territory.” He looked out to the view of the city. You saw it as cowardly since he wouldn’t look at you. “Thanks for everything, I’ll see you around.” He gave a two finger salute before jumping off your fire escape and webbing off.

All you could do was watch his form disappear behind a mass of buildings, protest dying on your open lips. 

Whatever, big baby. Just because I wouldn’t kiss him. 

Your frown softened as you looked to the wall you shared with Peter. Now that you weren’t harboring a hero, it gave you more time to think about him.

Where could he be? Your mind went to what Spider-Man said. 

“Maybe it’s just a really long emergency? Or he got caught up with a friend?”

The problem with that was the only ‘friend’ Peter had besides you was…

“When you see him next, can you tell him I’d like to speak with him? It’s important.”

What if Peter was with MJ? What if they got to talking and ended up rekindling the spark? You knew that Peter wasn’t 100% over her, but if she asked, would he return to her and leave you in the dust?

The fact that you weren’t confident about his answer made your stomach curl and brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

 

Peter, where are you?

Notes:

So Peter has chronic Dumb Bitch Disease™ and is totally jealous of himself. We love him anyway.

Chapter 8

Notes:

Hey guys! I apologize in advance that this chapter is a bit shorter than the rest, but I promise it'll be worth it!

It was 3am when you heard movement next door.

You sat up in bed with wide eyes, your heart racing in anticipation at Peter’s late arrival. While you were relieved he was home and (hopefully) safe, the implications of coming home at 3am didn’t settle well in your stomach.

But even as you wondered where he had been, you were excited he was home and had to hold back from jumping out of bed to go see him. I can’t just show up at his door .02 seconds after he comes home at 3am, I’d look like a puppy waiting for her owner.

You shook your head and laid back down, deciding that knowing he was there was good enough for now. 

Tomorrow morning though… Tomorrow morning you were going to tell him how you felt.

~

What the actual fuck?

You knocked on Peter’s door again, harder this time just in case he was in the bathroom and didn’t hear you. Both times were met with silence that nagged at the back of your mind. 

This is bull. He’s already out of the apartment and I didn’t even hear him leave. You huffed in frustration before going back to your place.

You looked around for something, anything to do. It was only 10am and you were off for the day with nothing to do because you ran all your errands yesterday. 

“This is prime cuddle time, you bitch.” You grumbled as you plopped onto the couch and grabbed the TV remote.

You needed something to distract you from the growing nervousness and irritation bubbling in your gut. You had a plan and now things were way off course. You were expecting Peter to be there this morning so you hyped yourself up to see him. 

You listened to some motivational music, took a quick shower since your hair still held a faint coppery smell from helping Spider-Man, and had a small swig of liquid courage just to let loose. All of it went to waste as you found yourself turning on the Food Network.

It was the final round of the food competition Chopped where the two remaining contestants needed to make a dessert out of four random basket ingredients. Marshmallows, gummy worms, boiled eggs, and…

Cherries.

“Hey, you know I still don’t know your favorite food.” You pointed out one night as you and Peter were snuggling up on the couch. There was a Twilight Zone marathon on and you turned to talk to him during the commercials.

“That’s because I don’t really have one. I love all food, I don’t discriminate.” He joked, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m not really a dessert person though. The only dessert I really liked was cherry pie.” 

You didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes grew distant, like his mind wasn’t here with you anymore. As much as you wanted to ask why he no longer liked cherry pie, you could see that the answer was much deeper than what Peter wanted to share at the moment. 

That didn’t mean you weren’t gonna try making him a pie eventually though.

It was like a cartoon light bulb appeared above your head and suddenly you couldn’t get off the couch fast enough. You scrambled over to slip some shoes on and grabbed your bag before heading out with a wide grin, your good mood restored and then some.

I’m pretty sure I already have most of the things I need. Just need to buy some cherries and maybe some ice cream to go with it? I hope he likes vanilla. 

You walked into the store not too far from your apartment and immediately went for the produce section. It was a Sunday morning so the place was pretty packed with people looking to do their shopping for the week, which made it a little crowded but you were only here getting two things anyway. 

As you reached the cherries section you were delighted to find that there was one more bag of the kind you needed. Got here just in time! You thought as you reached out to secure the fruit.

Only for someone else to put their hand on it at the same time.

“Hey-”

“Hey-”

You froze and your eyes went wide as saucers as you stared into the eyes of your ex-boyfriend, Adam. He looked equally as shocked to be seeing you. Did he think I’d stop existing after he cheated or something? Plus isn’t there a grocery store closer to his place? It was surprisingly easy not to refer it to ‘our place.’ 

The hurt you were expecting to feel was nothing more than a twinge of irritation at the fact that he still didn’t let go of your cherries. “Can you let go? I need these.” You requested calmly, sliding your fingers through the loop on the top of the bag so you were holding more of it. It was petty, but you were allowed to be petty in this situation.

Hearing you speak must’ve snapped him of whatever stupid daze he was in. “Er, actually I need these too. This is the last bag until they get their shipment in tomorrow.” He explained, like you truly gave a fuck about any of his problems after you found him playing naked tickle monster in bed with your former friend.

You pursed your lips. “I’m making cherry pie today so I need them. Tough luck.” You tugged at the bag, daring him with your eyes to try and argue.

And of course he did, because he was an idiot.

“Don’t you use sour cherries for pies? I need these, Amy’s going to kill me with her cravings-” He stopped suddenly and his face paled when he realized what he said.  

Cravings. Cravings . She’s pregnant. That means they’ve been fucking way longer than before I found out.

The old you would’ve started screaming right then and there. You would’ve hurled all sorts of insults at him and that homewrecker, maybe you would’ve ended up knocking some of his teeth out too. Adam watched you warily like he was expecting the same.

Instead your lips curled into a sickly sweet smile as you balled your fist and yanked the bag from his hand. You may or may not have enjoyed his small hiss of pain as the plastic sliced his finger. “Well, you usually use sour cherries, but I’m making a special pie for someone and I need these fresh ones. Good luck finding them in another store.” 

With that you turned away, ignoring the urge to turn back around and give him the finger. Like I’m gonna give you my fucking cherries just because you didn’t use a condom. You rolled your eyes at the audacity of that bastard. 

You passed the ice cream section and scooped up a pack of vanilla before going to pay. Usually when you went grocery shopping you liked to browse the aisles, but honestly knowing Adam was here too made you want to leave as soon as possible.

Luckily you made it out without any more run-ins. You headed back to the apartment, Adam fading from your thoughts with each step you took. Of course you would tell Peter all about it... after the pie though. That was a… pieority . 

God I’m so funny.

You may or may not have hesitated outside of Peter’s door when you got back. The temptation to knock was real, but you had the cherries and ice cream to think about. The pie was a surprise, so Peter couldn’t see any of the ingredients or else he’d figure it out. For someone so dorky, he was really smart.

So you skipped his door and went straight to yours, taking a deep breath once you stepped inside. 

“It’s go time.”

~

Two hours later and the pie was finally finished. Usually cherry pies only take about an hour, but since you made the crust and filling yourself it took longer. This was no ordinary cherry pie and you weren’t going to treat it like one. It was for someone special and you put a lot of care into it.

He’s gonna eat this pie and like it, even if I have to shove it down his throat.

You took a deep breath and left your apartment, dessert in hand. Your heart was going a million miles a minute as you knocked on his door. No going back now.

At first you thought the worst. There was like a three second period where there was no response, to which you were going to turn around and throw the pie in your garbage. You were getting so frustrated after not being able to talk to him. You missed Peter, he was your best fri-

The door opened and it wasn’t the man you were expecting, but literally the one other person you did not want to see right now when you were trying to finally confess to Peter.

Mary Jane fucking Watson.

She blinked in surprise before settling you with a small, but still genuine smile. “Hello again, do you need me to get Peter for you?” She pointed over her shoulder, which drew your attention to the bathroom door just in time for Peter to come out.

Peter B. Parker had a signature look. Some comfy pants, a shirt, and a seemingly permanent 5’oclock shadow that you grew to adore. The man wearing a suit, slacks, and shoes without scuffs in front of you was basically a stranger.

He even shaved.

The pie slipped from your hands and fell to the floor before you could register what happened. You didn’t even look down to check on it before you turned and made a Beeline straight for the elevator. The sound of your name being called was nothing but static in your mind right now. 

You needed to get out of here.

~

Peter stared out of his window, wanting to run after you but knowing that he wouldn’t be able to catch up to you on foot. He’d have to do it as Spider-Man, which meant he had his work cut out for him since it would be hard to find you in such a big city.

“Soooo, just neighbors?” MJ asked with a knowing look. In her hands was the pie tin you dropped, luckily in a brown dessert box so it didn’t make any mess outside. 

Peter could smell the cherries and sugar before they even opened the box. His eyes widened as he flipped the top to reveal a still beautifully intact cherry pie. He took the box from MJ and grunted in surprise to feel that it was still warm.

She bought this for me?

MJ shook her head at the baffled expression on Peter’s face. “Peter, I think you should go talk to her. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” She collected her purse and coat as she headed for the door. 

She paused and turned back to look at Peter, who was looking between the pie he set on the counter and out the window where your cab disappeared around the corner. “Pete, you should eat some of that before you go find her. I think even you should be able to tell how someone feels through their food.” She suggested with that knowing tone. It was one of the few things Peter found irritating about her. 

Peter frowned in confusion, not understanding what MJ meant. It was a cherry pie, he didn’t even like desserts. He could’ve sworn he told you that too, but maybe that was a dream? 

“See you around, Pete.” He looked back to wave at the redhead as she stepped out.

“You too MJ.”

Now that she was gone and Peter was alone, it was time for him to get in the suit and look for you. 

But what was MJ talking about? 

Peter took a look at the pie and sighed. “One bite, only because it’s hot.” He muttered as he grabbed a fork and knife. He cut a slice and decided to just eat it out of the tin since there was no one there to witness his absurdity. Also, he really didn’t want to wash more dishes than he needed to wash. 

He stared at the fork before shrugging and taking a bite of the pie. 

Suddenly he was transported to a small kitchen in Queens.

“Wow Aunt May, how do you make cherry pie taste so good? It usually tastes like cough syrup.” A 17 year old Peter asked as he helped himself to a second slice of pie.

Aunt May chuckled and came over with a can of whipped cream. “Well Peter, I suppose since you’re my favorite nephew, I’ll tell you the secret to my famous May Parker cherry pie.”  His cheeks were too stuffed with the remainder of his previous slice of pie to point out that he was her only nephew. 

She put a dollop of whipped cream on his new slice before smiling warmly at him, her crows feet crinkling at the sides of her eyes.

“It’s love.”

Peter’s fork fell from his hand as everything started to add up. How weird you were acting yesterday after not seeing him, the ‘someone’ who wasn’t a boyfriend but was special enough to reject a hero, and now the pie that was obviously homemade from the taste.

“I think even you should be able to tell how someone feels through their food.”

He needed to find you. Now.

Notes:

Welp, we're in the endgame now. We have about 2 more chapters to go of this fic ya'll! Also, Peter finally knows how the reader feels! What will happen next? Stay tuned!

Chapter 9

Notes:

Hello everyone!! Thank you so much for all your sweet comments, they really have encouraged me to update faster than I usually do.

The sunset looked particularly beautiful tonight as you watched from the Empire State Building, the same place you found yourself after catching Adam and Amy.

You wiped your eyes of the tears that threatened to fall again. While you didn’t feel the pain from Adam’s accidental announcement at the time, it hit you full force after finding Peter and MJ together. 

The reminder made your chest ache and you didn’t even have alcohol with you to numb the pain.

Everyone was happy together now. Your ex was stolen by your former friend and now they’re shacking up together, having a kid the way you and Adam once planned. Your current interest was probably now back with his ex-wife…

And here you were, sober, alone, and sitting on top of one of the tallest buildings in the city.

You weren’t that sad though, you had no desire to die so you were careful not to lean too far. You just needed a place where you could be alone and think about your trainwreck of a life.

“Fancy meeting you up here.” 

You didn’t have to turn this time to wonder who it was. You knew by now, you just didn’t care. Somehow you felt both an ache and numbness that made you want to scream, and you didn’t want to risk taking it out on the seemingly one friend you had left. It wasn’t his problem. Hopefully if you were quiet, he’d take the hint and just leave.

But of course that was too easy. “You’re quiet. No wine or takeout boxes tonight?” He asked as he made himself comfortable on the ledge next to you. Thankfully he left space between the two of you, you weren’t sure how you’d react if he tried to hit on you right now. After the weird kiss attempt in your apartment you were just a little wary.

Despite the fact that you really wanted to be alone, you answered. “Didn’t have work today and I don’t feel like drinking.” Talking made your throat sting after crying for however long you were up here. Maybe next time you needed to cry you’d bring water.

Spider-Man didn’t have a witty quip or joke to say in response to that, probably seeing the tear streaks on your face and deciding against it. Still, he didn’t leave as you hoped he would.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You gave him a look, red rimmed eyes speaking more than you could manage right now. You didn’t even want to talk about the weather right now, why would you want to talk about your personal problems?

He just nodded and looked out at the sunset. “Well, I’m gonna talk because fuck I have some shit going on too.” He dramatically huffed out a breath and scratched his head like he was trying to figure out what to say first. “First of all, my ex-wife and friend are together and getting married.” 

Your eyes bugged out and you turned to him, obviously surprised enough to snap out of your pity party for 2 seconds.

 “What?” You couldn’t believe how similar your situations were. “Also, I’m sorry, did you say your friend? Like, you didn’t cut him off too? I’m so confused.” You turned more towards him, wanting to hear more. You didn’t hesitate to cut off your ex, your former friend, and everyone else who associated with them. You didn’t like liars or cheaters, and they were guilty by association. The only one you kept in touch with was Stacy. It was lonely, but safe.

He nodded and laughed awkwardly. “It’s uh… complicated? We’ve all known each other for years and after she and I divorced… Well, friends go to friends for comfort… Or however she explained it.” He rolled his eyes. “She never cheated on me though, that’s something I guess.”

You gaped at him like a fish, not understanding how someone who sacrificed so much for so many people could be grateful that his ex-wife ‘at least didn’t cheat on him’ with his best friend. “That’s… that’s rough buddy. That’s real fucking rough.” You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling like now you should share since the hero shared his personal issues with you.

But somehow, even though you were going to tell him the abridged version, you ended up telling him everything. “As you know, I caught my ex and former friend together in bed. I moved out immediately and into my current apartment. I didn’t have any plans, the two most important people in my life betrayed me, and I just felt so alone…”

A wobbly smile appeared as you remembered your first meeting with Peter. The asshole woke you up with his loud crying, probably over his divorce now that you thought about it. “Then I find out I have this asshole neighbor, you know, the ‘dashingly handsome’ one, that looks a little too sad. And I’m just like ‘alright, maybe I can move on from this hurt with this new friend. We can help eachother move on.” 

You turned to face the sunset again, the final few minutes of it being the most beautiful with its array of colors.

“But my dumbass had to go and fall for him. I like him so much and he has no idea because-” You cut yourself off with a laugh that doubled as a sob. “-I’m pretty sure he’s still really into his ex-wife. I wanted to tell him how I felt today, I even made a fucking cherry pie from scratch like a goddamn schoolgirl making chocolates for Valentine’s day.”

By this point you were sniffling and the tears flowed freely, coming back too fast for you to bother wiping them away. “And when I went to the market, who do I see but my ex-boyfriend? He was there for the cherries I needed and do you know why he needed them??” You turned to look at Spider-Man, probably looking insane as you started laughing.

“Amy is pregnant! I found out because he slipped and told me she was really craving those cherries. So of course I took them, because fuck them both, and I go home. I bust my ass making this pie, I even burned my fingers a little because I didn’t wear mitts taking them out of the oven. I was just too excited I guess. It doesn’t matter, they’re fine.” You waved the hero off when he tried to reach for your hands.

You took a deep breath and had to stop to compose yourself. While talking about Adam and Amy hurt, what you were about to say hurt a lot more. 

“I go to knock on his door, holding this pie that I’ve put so much work into, and who-” You started hyperventilating as you spoke, finding yourself unable to stop even though it hurt more with each word. “-else b-but his ex-wife opens the door?” You sniffled and turned to him.

He was staring at you, that much was for sure. You couldn’t tell much else since the mask covered his expression. “I’m so sorry… I can’t imagine.” There was a pain in his voice that you couldn’t understand. You were expecting sympathy, pity… but there was something else there.

“It’s not your fault. I just have really bad luck with relationships I guess. Time to join a nunnery!” You laughed weakly and started wiping your face clean of the tears. It was time to stop crying so much over some stupid guy... 

 “I gotta eventually go back and come up with an excuse for why I bolted like that. I can’t exactly tell him that I like him now, you know? Not that it isn’t obvious. He’s a smart guy, he’ll figure it out if he hasn’t already. Maybe I can just say I really needed to-”

A warm hand rested on your shoulder, stopping you from your meaningless talking. “Hey.”

You looked to Spider-Man, feeling and probably looking like a mess. “No offense, but if you try to kiss me again I will punch you, hero or not.” You warned, probably not much of a threat to someone who could lift a car with his pinky, but whatever.

He immediately yanked his hand back and held both of them up defensively. “No no, no weird intentions or anything. I’m just acting as a friend here. And as a friend, I think you should go back and talk to him. I’m sure he didn’t explain his disappearance or why she was in his apartment, so maybe you should hear him out.” He suggested.

You fiddled with your fingers as you listened, taking his words into consideration. “I just… I feel like the more things go wrong, the more I think that maybe I’m not supposed to be with him.” You admitted quietly, looking down at your hands like they held the answer. “Maybe I should just get a cat…” You mumbled, only half joking.

You could’ve sworn you heard a quiet ‘fuck’ coming from Spider-Man. “Sometimes… sometimes in life you have to take a leap of faith. Even if it looks like you’re going to get hurt, you shouldn’t let the negative ‘what ifs’ stop you. He could actually feel the same way about you but he was too stupid to tell you earlier.” The hero pointed out.

Leap of faith, huh? 

You sighed and closed your eyes. “He is dumb sometimes…” 

Spider-Man was right. This whole time you thought about the negatives… like what if Peter was back together with MJ? What if he didn’t like you and shut the door in your face? 

But on the other hand, what if he did like you? What if MJ being in his apartment was for something else other than their relationship? What if what if he ends up being the one you love for the rest of your life? Heat rushed to your cheeks as thoughts of settling down with Peter. It was a stretch, but the warmth blooming in your chest felt better than the ache that was there before.

Peter just had that effect on you. 

“You’re right.” You admitted, looking over at Spider-Man with a small but rejuvenated smile. It was amazing how he knew exactly the right words to say to make you feel better. The way the hero perked up with pride made you laugh a little. “Thank you Spidey, really. I think I’m going to go back and see if he’s home.”

Spider-Man gave you a thumbs up and jumped to his feet. “Need a ride? Since you’re sober I figured-” 

You were up before he could finish, your face bright with excitement. “Let’s go! I’ve wanted to do this properly since… well, ever I guess. Let’s go!” You held out your arms eagerly, waiting for him to take you by the waist like last time. Hopefully you didn’t blow chunks this time too.

He pulled you against his chest and you clung onto him, emotionally preparing yourself for takeoff. Feeling one of his strong arms around your waist made you relax, like your body knew you were safe with him. Well, he is a hero.

Before you knew it, you were taking off into the air. You fought back the urge to scream in terrified glee as you left the building and started falling. 

I’m safe here. Safe. You took a deep breath before opening your eyes, watching as the city streets were coming closer until-

Fwp! You were ecstatic, the wind blowing in your face as the two of you were basically flying. Before you could help it, you started giggling madly as he swung you home.

“Having fun there?” Spidey asked, a smile in his voice as the two of you looped around a building. 

You squeezed him tighter and looked up at him, teeth exposed in a big grin that was equal parts glee and from the wind flapping your cheeks. You were having so much fun right now that you didn’t even care if you looked like a mess. 

“Hell yeah! This is like an extreme roller coaster!” You cackled, feeling free in a way you didn’t realize you could feel before. I wish I could just do this whenever I’m upset. You thought to yourself as you closed your eyes. 

When you opened your eyes the two of you were standing on your fire escape. The landing had been so smooth that you wouldn’t have realized you stopped swinging without the lack of wind in your hair. 

“Oh, we’re here! Wow that was fast.” You smiled at the hero before you realized that Peter could see both of you here if he looked outside. “Fuck, we need to move before my neighbor sees!” You whispered, your nervousness suddenly coming back full force.

Spider-Man’s hand was back on your shoulder before you could freak out. “Hey.”

The shoulder touch once again somehow relaxed you. You stared up at him as he continued. “I don’t sense him in the apartment, he might’ve gone out to look for you or something. Just wait for him, alright? Remember, a leap of faith.” He reminded you of his earlier advice.

“You’re right… again. Thanks Spider-Man.” You hugged him tight around the waist, wanting to show your appreciation in the only way you could right now. “Swing by again sometime if you ever need to talk, or if you’re hurt. I’ll be here to help.” You assured, feeling confident in your friendship with the hero now more than ever.

He hugged you back, giving you a light squeeze that made you smile. “Thanks, I hope it all works out for you. See you around, yeah?” He patted your back and pulled away, hopping onto the ledge of the fire escape. “Be safe!”

You laughed and gave him a mock salute. “Always am, Spidey. You stay smart.” You weren’t going to say ‘be safe’ because you knew there was no point. He was a superhero, his life was basically danger 24/7. That’s why no one ever knew his real identity. He and his family, assuming he had one, would be easy pickings.

The hero winked and gave you a two finger salute before swinging off. You watched him with a smile, holding a newfound appreciation for his method of travel.

Unfortunately once you were inside, you were alone with your thoughts. Every second that you didn’t have Peter or Spider-Man around was another second that you lost confidence in yourself.

“And of course neither of them have phones so I can’t even text them.” You grumbled in irritation. Apparently Peter broke his phone beyond repair somehow and didn’t have the funds to replace it yet.

You realized that while you didn’t have Spider-Man’s number, you did still have something of his. You fished through your junk drawer and pulled out the note you kept from the first night you met Spider-Man. 

Since I wasn’t sure if you had the energy to go yourself, I figured I could pick up a few things for you from the bodega down the street. Surprisingly good chicken soup, if you need something to fill your stomach after what happened in the alley.

Good luck, stay strong.

P.S. Lock your window, any creeper could come crawling in.

Seeing the little cartoon Spider-Man made you smile again, like he was there supporting you without actually being here. Without thinking you grabbed the other note from your drawer too, the one from the first time you and Peter fell asleep together and you woke up alone. 

Hey, got called into work to deal with an emergency. Tried to wake you but you sleep like the dead. 

-PP

You snorted again at initials (like the mature adult you were) before looking back at Spider-Man’s note. He somehow managed to be playful in his words, even looping the y’s in a round and exaggerated way that looked…

Wait.

You looked between both notes, comparing the loopy ‘y’s and distinct curves of the ‘a’s. 

They were identical. Once you saw how similar they looked, it was easy to realize that the handwriting was basically identical. No, not basically. They were identical. Two notes… one person.

Suddenly it all made sense. 

The first time you ordered Leo’s, Peter disappeared for eight hours only to come back bruised and exhausted. Spider-Man stopped a bank robbery that same day.

The weird, borderline intrusive questions Spider-Man asked when you talked to him about Peter on your way home from the bar. The next morning, Peter seemed to know you were hungover and woke you up on purpose. That led to you making breakfast, to which Peter said…

“ I’d be a first class idiot to pass up restaurant level cooking. ”

Versus what Spider-Man said the first time you met him, which was: 

“Seriously, you were dating a first class idiot if he walked away from this.”

Everytime Spider-Man was in a fight where he got the crap beat out of him, Peter showed up with bruises that would fade overnight. You’d more often than not forget about them the next day because they were gone. 

How the fuck did I not notice that?

And of course… 

Peter Parker was nowhere to be found all day, the exact day you just so happened to be harboring the injured Spider-Man all. fucking. day. 

“Oh my god.” That meant… if Peter was Spider-Man…

Your breathing started to pick up, panic gripping at your chest from the reality that you confessed to your neighbor without realizing it. “ I told him everything. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god I was crying like a baby-” 

Then you remembered the feel of Spider-Man’s lips on your cheek.

“He could actually feel the same way about you, but he was too stupid to tell you earlier.”

Spider-Man’s… no, Peter’s, voice rang out through your head. How could you almost forget the most important part? Spider-Man tried to kiss me!

The panic loosened its grip on you just as you realized that things were actually so much better than you thought. Peter felt the same as you, he wasn’t trying to avoid you, he was just living a double life! 

You had a headache. All this information combined with the crying was enough to make your head throb. You looked at your bed and decided fuck it, you needed to clock out of reality for a little while. 

Before you got into bed though, you changed into shorts and the shirt you stole from Peter’s apartment. Since he wasn’t here to cuddle, you had to make do with what you had. 

We have a lot to talk about tomorrow, Peter Parker.

Notes:

One more chapter to go ya'll!

Chapter 10

Notes:

Here is the much awaited last chapter!

The next morning you were ready for work before your alarm even went off. 

You decided that your talk with Peter could wait until after work, because not only did you have to show up early, you also had to dress nice for the occasion. The restaurant where you worked was catering some important party and all the employees, except the cooks, had to dress up in black tie clothes.

However.

Your boss plucked you from your cooking duties for the day and instead assigned you to be kitchen manager. Since Denise called out sick, there was no one who would keep the kitchen above standard during this party. You were the only one who, due to your tendencies to overwork and overachieve, your boss trusted to do the job.

No pressure.

Actually, you were ecstatic for the chance. You did well in leadership positions, you didn’t need to worry about smelling like grease, and maybe your boss would consider giving you a promotion too!

Also, you really needed to get your mind off of Peter for a little bit and some responsibility would do you good.

You glanced over at the wall you shared with Peter, wondering if he was sleeping in his futon or out saving the city. It didn’t matter either way, you didn’t have time to sit here and think about him. You had a kitchen to manage.

~

Oh.

You stared wide eyed at the announcement board outside your restaurant. Anxiety started to grip your throat like a vice as you reread the words before you.

Engagement Party of Mary Jane Watson and Harry Osborn.

So, MJ was not only over Peter, you were actually going to be working her engagement party. 

I’m gonna throw up.  

You entered through the kitchen doors, hoping no one was in the bathroom to overhear your pre-work breakdown session. You weren’t ready for this! You thought you had more time to relax before thinking of Peter and MJ! 

“Oh! I’m sorry, oh hello! Nice to see you!” 

A hunk of ice dropped into your stomach as you, once again, came face to face with the last person you wanted to see right now.

She was smiling goodnaturedly, an almost knowing look in her eyes. That might’ve been your overreacting mind at work though. Every one of Mary Jane’s movements was overanalyzed, like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. You were expecting something mean, some snide comment maybe? You weren’t even sure, but with the way your last couple of days have been going... Well, you were sure you could take MJ in a fight.

“Hi, yeah. I’m actually going to be in the kitchen today… So if you need an extra side of potatoes or anything…” You laughed and jabbed your thumb into your chest a little harder than you originally intended. “I’m your gal!” 

The redhead perked up at the thought, seeming to like the idea of talking to you more even though it tasted sour as you suggested it. “That sounds great! I look forward to talking to you! Thank you in advance for all you’re doing for us. I’ll introduce you to Harry at some point, I’m sure he’ll love to meet you.”

Your smile was cough syrup sweet. “Of course.” While you were still feeling a little weird about her, you did have a job to do. “I’m actually about to run to the bathroom before I get to work, so I’ll catch you a little later. It’s nice to see you though MJ… congratulations.” With that you left before the subject of Peter could be brought up.

You hurried to the employee bathroom and locked yourself inside, staring into the mirror with blown eyes. You looked like a cornered animal, form shaking and perspiration beading at your forehead. 

Get a grip, you’re not managing the actual party, just the kitchen. All you have to do is stay in the kitchen and not talk to anyone. Just… stay in the kitchen.

You made eye contact with yourself as your breathing turned heavy. “I’m okay, just stay in the kitchen.” You repeated, splashing a little bit of cool water on your cheeks. Don’t think about how you made a fool out of yourself last time you saw her. Also, she definitely knows you’re thirsting over Peter. 

Peter… you really hoped he wouldn’t show up today. 

The bang of a fist on the door broke your concentration. “Get a move on, some of us also have to use the bathroom!” One of your fellow chefs called after you took too long. 

You took one last look at yourself, straightening out your dress before nodding. 

I can do this.

~

So far, so good.

You flew all over the kitchen, shouting orders and keeping the cooks on a good work flow. If someone wanted rare meat and they got medium rare, you were the one they sent out. It was an easy job since your crew knew what they were doing. You rarely had to go out to the dining room to speak to customers.

The few times you did step out of the kitchen though, you felt eyes burning into your back.

The first time you weren’t sure where it was coming from.

You were explaining the gluten free items on your menu when you felt the eyes on the back of your neck. You stopped speaking to turn and face the person, only to find no one in your line of sight. Odd, but you shook it off.

The second time, you knew .

Someone exchanged their NY strip for a porterhouse and you were the one to bring the new meal out. When it was time to head back to the kitchen with your plate, you got the feeling again. This time, your eyes landed on MJ’s table. 

You would’ve thought it was a mistake if not for the way the redhead was giggling behind a glass of champagne. She was looking between the ceiling above you and something under the table, almost like she was pointedly trying not to look at you. After watching her lean closer to the tablecloth and speak, you realized that someone must be hiding underneath.

There was only one person you could think of who would hide under a table at an engagement party.

Anxiety bubbled in your stomach like hot tar as you turned around to make a beeline for the kitchen. You closed your eyes, the loud drumming of your heart so overwhelming that you had to rely on muscle memory to get back to the kitchen.

Not ready. Not ready. Not ready. Not-

You really needed to watch where you were going.

A strong hand gripped your arm to stabilize you after you walked into the stranger. Your eyes snapped open and were met with warm pools of honey staring back. You thought you would freeze up and run away, maybe start rambling about how to poach an egg properly, something that would betray just how panicked you felt at the moment. 

Instead, to Peter’s credit, you relaxed at the contact and felt the weight on your chest disappear. “Hey.” You greeted quietly, eyes scanning over Peter’s face. Now that you had your own theory of Peter being Spider-Man, you could see the evidence in Peter’s face alone.

The most prominent thing was Peter’s crooked nose. Upon seeing it, anyone could tell that he has broken it at least once. But you wondered how many times Peter actually broke it, how many times it had to be reset to avoid healing wrong… and also when he gave up trying to reset it at all. His nose was permanently crooked, a small quirk you noticed about him that made more sense now.

How many other things did you look over because you didn't know what to look for?

Peter stole your attention as his hand slid down your arm, hesitating for a second before linking your hands. The innocent gesture made your heart swell. “Hey. Can we go... talk somewhere maybe? Alone?” He asked, eyes flickering away in nervousness. In the few weeks you knew Peter, he was never one to just talk. It made him uncomfortable and flighty. It wasn’t fun for anyone involved. 

So you shook your head.

He paled considerably until you gave his hand a soft squeeze. “How about we do that instead?” You nodded over to the little dancefloor where some couples were dancing and a few kids were doing their dances for their recording mothers.

Peter relaxed as he realized he wasn’t being rejected, you just wanted to dance with him. He could do that.

The two of you walked to the dancefloor with joined hands.

~

Peter couldn’t believe his luck.

When Spider-Man told you that MJ and Harry were getting married, Peter never expected for their engagement party to be at your restaurant. 

Peter’s thoughts turned to static once he actually saw you. Usually at home you wore baggy, comfortable clothing or loungewear for the days you didn’t leave the apartment. He rarely saw you wearing something like that.

It wasn’t anything too eye catching, just a form fitting black dress that worked for both fancy and casual occasions. But on you… on you it looked really good. To the point where he practically ran back into the men’s bathroom to avoid being caught staring. 

He was very excited (and horrified) because he wasn’t ready . He wasn’t ready to tell you about his feelings, wasn’t ready to tell you about Spider-Man, and he definitely wasn’t ready to admit aloud just how good you looked in that dress.

When you got to the dancefloor, Peter wrapped his arms around your waist while your arms became a comfortable weight around his shoulders. The two of you started swaying to make up for the silence. It was quiet, almost comfortable.

Except for Peter stepping on your shoe. 

“Ow.” You complained, giving an exaggerated glare up at the man. Peter opened his mouth to start replying, panicked at his clumsiness when he was usually such a great dancer. He was nervous, he could feel both Harry’s and MJ’s eyes on him as he likely fucked up his one chance at happiness-

“You know for a man who swings in the air with the grace of a trained trapeze artist, you sure suck at dancing.”

The noise level in the restaurant seemed to be completely nonexistent as Peter felt his heart stop. 

You knew.

His eyes settled on your face, searching for any hint of malice. There was none, only that small smile and those damn understanding eyes. He lied to you all this time, made you go through a roller coaster of emotions, and yet you still smiled at him the same.

“You aren’t mad?” He asked quietly, feeling like that desperate 16 year old kid who really just wanted to make his family proud. 

Your fingers gently played with the hair on the back of his neck, a sensation that turned Peter into jelly during cuddle sessions. It was probably the most relaxing thing he could think of at the moment, which helped with easing his anxiety. It made dancing much easier as he felt himself loosen up.

“No, I understand. It’s a delicate topic that you can’t just jump into. We’ll talk about it later though, okay?” The sweet tone you had was just too much, you always knew what to say and do to help him relax. It’s one of the many reasons why he cared about you so much.

He was so invested in thinking about his feelings for you that he didn’t register the change in song until he saw your face. While the previous song had been upbeat and not meant for swaying couples, this song struck a particular chord with both of you.

Always and forever, each moment with you

Is just like a dream to me, that somehow came true.

Peter watched your eyes go wide in recollection, the time in the alley coming to mind. Spider-Man had been patrolling only to come across a ‘slightly tipsy’ pedestrian singing this song. While it was adorable to watch you stumble around trying to sing the words then, right now it took his breath away. You looked up at him so surely, so adoringly that it made him weak.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you danced. For the first time in a long time Peter was able to block out the rest of the world, focusing on purely the feel of your warmth against him and the soft singing in his ear. 

This was peace.

It wasn’t until the song was ending that Peter opened his eyes to look down at you, seeing his own intentions reflected in his eyes. With more confidence now than ever, he leaned down to brush his lips against yours.

Soft but slightly chapped from the heat of the kitchen, but still a perfect first kiss. What was meant to be a soft peck felt like it could lead to more. Peter watched your eyelids flutter shut, his own doing the same as he just focused on-

“Um, boss?”

You jumped out of Peter’s arms, face suddenly going a dark red as you turned to look at one of the line cooks from the kitchen. From here, Peter could see the other kitchen employees packed up against the doors, trying to watch the scene through their windows.

“W-what? Shit, the strip. Sorry! I’m coming!” You turned to him, eyes holding a promise that Peter knew you'd keep. “Later.” You said before following the line cook back into the kitchen.

Peter must’ve been on autopilot because the next thing he knew he was sitting down next to MJ. He was trying (and failing) not to look at her smug face. 

“So, just friends huh?”

~

The way home was a quiet one, but not awkward in the slightest. You and Peter were both riding silent highs from earlier, the energy between you two electric. 

When presented with both apartments, you automatically assumed it was going to be your place. You were confused when Peter instead led you by the hand to his apartment instead.

“Peter, what are-” You froze.

His apartment was spotless, not a box (takeout or moving) in sight. His bed was made, sheets actually folded on the futon. Not a single item of clothing could be seen anywhere except for his laundry hamper.

“Wait!” 

You sped towards his bathroom, immediately ripping the shower curtains open.

Not a slice of pizza in sight.

“Peter… you did all this?” You asked in awe once you returned to his arms. “Why? When ?” You were still in disbelief that Peter’s apartment looked this good. He even hung up his clothes in the closet!

He laughed uncomfortably, his hands resting on your lower back as he held you close. “It’s for you, okay?” You kept quiet, feeling like he wanted to say more than that. He took a deep breath, hands twitching nervously before he spoke.

“You… you are the only thing besides moral obligation that gets me up in the morning. For a while there I thought I was going to end up some old guy who just existed until it was time to put on the suit. You reminded me that I’m not just Spider-Man’s secret identity, I am Peter Parker. I… I deserve to be happy.” He swallowed and squeezed your hips. “You make me happy.”

Your eyes stung while your lips wobbled with barely contained tears. “You do… we both do.” You sniffled and cupped his cheek, watching him lean into the touch with a trembling sigh. You silently vowed to shower him with more affectionate touches more often. “You make me so happy too.” 

His lips were warm and firm against yours, more confident now that you were alone as opposed to the restaurant. You didn’t realize it at first, but you and Peter started swaying with each other during the kiss, losing yourselves in each other.

It was only when he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours that you spoke.

“So I make you want to be a better man?” You teased, heart swelling with affection as you replayed Peter’s confession in your mind.

It was hard not to giggle at the resulting pink on Peter’s face. “You know you really didn’t need to say it like that. Like, yeah you do but the way you said it makes it sound corny.” 

Your laugh never felt so free.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for supporting this story! I hope y'all loved reading it as much as I've loved writing it! Let me know what your favorite part of the story was in the comments!

Also, be on the lookout for some Peter B. oneshots in the future!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Peter B. Parker/Reader Works