Chapter Text
“Hi!” Toby had felt the pair of eyes on him for a while before he gained enough courage to finally speak up, though he wondered why it took him so long considering where he was.
Right, he should probably explain that first. Though it is pretty odd of a situation, so it might be normal for you to not believe anything he has to say next. He’s going to blame the oddity of the whole situation on his job, supposes that’s the best way to get you to understand. Media companies are weird. Always trying something new, unexpected even, to get views online. And he doesn’t know entirely why he agreed, but he can, with 100% certainty, tell you that’s not why he said yes at all.
But it’s been a hell of a year, and his hatred for public shows of affection, let alone physical affection that’s this obvious, has been dwindling since he realised how touch starved he’d become during the blip, and by now, he’ll take just as much affection as anyone else who’s been through the same decade of hell.
That probably half explains why he’d all but jumped at the opportunity the company had been floating when he returned from thanksgiving break. It’d been advertised as a way to give back to the community, to help those that are struggling silently, and when no one else in the office had been interested, Toby got to take as many creative liberties as possible.
So, of course, he went all out. Christmas is his favourite season after all. And if he felt he deserved a break, so did the tired citizens of NYC, so that’s what he’d do. All under the guise of spreading a little holiday cheer.
Which is exactly what leads him to this street now. Standing on the corner of 17th, blindfolded and grinning, beside a sign he hopes still only reads ‘free hugs’. He’s been here a good few hours, and he feels a little stupid, especially as the chill in the air seeps through his old winter coat, but he’s gotten a good amount of hugs, and just as many conversations, and its sort of nice.
Sometimes they didn’t do much but say hello as they wrapped their arms around him. Maybe they’d talk about their day if they stuck around, sometimes they’d wish him well, and a happy holiday too after a particularly tight hug. Other times they’d scramble forward and hug him while whispering a much weirder topic of conversation. Aliens. Floating countries. Superheroes. The conspiracies were weird, but the more heart-breaking conversations stemmed from a different side of, ultimately, the same coin. The Blip. Disappearing people. Disappearing superheroes. He’d hope for a reappearing story to follow, but sometimes they didn’t come, and it was somehow harder to listen to that come from someone else as they told a story a little too similar to his own.
But Toby knows he can’t really blame them, it’s been a crazy few years, and if they need a rant about the influx of insanities that have taken place recently, his editor will easily cut anything that’ll sound too political to get past the big bosses, while he tries his hardest not to let the mic strapped to his scarf pick up his own sniffles.
“Uh, hi?” Toby hears. And oh. Shit. He has yet to meet someone just as awkward as himself, and he really can’t help cringing into the blindfold as he prays to the gods that this won’t be more difficult that it needs to be. As if the other guy can sense his new discomfort, he shuffles forward, but stops before the first word is even finished. “You-.”
“Me?” Toby prompts, a little confused as to where the other might’ve been going with his words, and he quickly regrets not having spoken when he’d first felt the eyes on him. Not that he’d been sure the other had even been there, he’s blindfolded. But, well, its clear the guy doesn’t know what he’s doing, and Toby sort of feels bad for pressuring him if he’d felt the need to introduce himself before anything. “I’m giving out free hugs for anyone struggling this holiday season, would you like one?” He offers, trying for his best smile, though his lips are a little past frozen, and he’s sure after all those stories, his nose is running past the blindfold.
“I-I-.” Oh gods. Toby really feels like he’s screwed up, and all too quickly he’s wishing he’d just kept his trap shut. Or he is, until-. “Y-yes?”
“Yes? You don’t sound too-. Oof.” Toby imagines he might have been thrown off his own feet had he not been standing so tense from the cold winter breeze that blew through the street when he finally felt the force of the other guy against him. The guy is strong, wrapping his arms tight around Toby immediately. “O-oh!” He’s being hugged. Obviously, it’s not wrong, this is his job for the day. But Toby still finds himself being caught off guard by the other, and he almost laughs at the force behind it all. “Damn, you’re strong!” Toby just manages to breathe out, and again, he has to hold back laughter so as to not embarrass the other guy further. It’s weird, though, being hugged with so much ferocity, so much sudden meaning, and it’s like the dude’s needed this for years or something with the way he’s holding on. That thought only grows more worrying when Toby’s yet to receive any kind of indication from the guy that he’s heard what he was saying. “Hey, you okay?” He asks tentatively, and almost doesn’t expect the breathless sigh of relief that somehow reaches through his coat and seeps into Toby’s collarbone.
“Wow, I really needed this,” Toby hears the other murmur, and it isn’t like he hasn’t heard those exact words multiple times already throughout the day, but the way this guy speaks them-. Toby can hear him beginning to get choked up, can hear the waiver in his voice as he begins to squeeze impossibly tighter, but its all the more worrying when he speaks up again. “I-. Thank you.” There’s a sudden wetness to the words, and Toby can almost hear the tears as they fall against his coat, its all phantom, but somehow impossible not to notice as every part of the boy seems to fall apart in Toby’s arms.
Toby begins, “hey-,” then quickly stops himself before he can put his foot in his mouth. He understands why the guy hadn’t spoken much. He really had needed a hug. And Toby’d offered, so he sure as hell isn’t going to make the other feel bad for looking for such comfort in him. “No problem kid. We all need a hug sometimes.” But that doesn’t stop the worry, because why had he come to Toby. Doesn’t he have anyone else?
“Kid.” The kid? manages a wet laugh, and Toby wants to raise his eyebrow under the blindfold, but it’s too stiff, and the guy is already barrelling forward in his shaky laughter, “you can’t be any older than me.”
Toby doesn’t really know how to respond to that, but he knows he should probably console the guy in his arms, and he quickly pulls himself together once again before he says something stupid. “You alright though?”
He breaths shakily seeming almost stunned by the question, and all too quickly Toby’s cursing himself out in his head. Of course he isn’t alright. The kid had practically thrown himself into Toby’s arms, and now he’s quite literally crying into his neck. “I, uh, wow.” He laughs again wetly before seeming to realise just where he is, and then, just as quickly as he’d found himself in Toby’s grip, he’s pulling away. “Oh, oh my God! Sorry!” The guy stammers, his voice pitched far too high for it to be casual, and Toby silently wonders what exactly it is the stranger is apologising for. “I-I’m so sorry! I’m not, I don’t usually do this, its just-!”
“It’s been tough, I get it,” Toby offers him a small smile, hoping he might see it, but unsure with the blindfold still tight over his eyes. “It’s no bother, honestly!”
Though Toby’s words seem to fall on deaf ears, because the guy just apologises all over again. “I-I feel so bad, I’m so sorry!”
And it all just confuses Toby more. “Hey-.” He tries, attempting to pull the guy from his obvious panic, before realising he doesn’t even know his name. “Uh?”
“Peter.” Peter sniffs, he himself wondering if he should be telling the other his name. Not that anyone knows that name anymore. Knows him anymore. But, he isn’t really sure how the curse works, and-. Will this guy even remember him tomorrow? “Peter Parker.”
“Cool name Parker!” Toby offers, the name suddenly sounding familiar, as if maybe he knew the other, but he definitely doesn’t recognise the voice, and he’s sure he would remember someone as awkward as Peter. If only in terms of comparing himself to the guy. “But as I was saying, it really is no trouble. The holiday season is hard. It’s why I’m here. I just want to help!”
“Wow, thank you.” Seemingly filled by genuine surprise at Toby’s want to simply help, Peter suddenly hurtles right back at Toby, full force as he pulls him into another hug. “Thank you. You seem to really care. That’s really nice. Thank you!”
Toby laughs into the hug, “is thank you the new sorry Pete?” He asks, trying to add a little humour to all the sorrow that he could feel beginning to weigh him down. “And I’m pretty sure I only offered one hug.”
“O-oh. S-.”
But Toby, having expected a reaction, holds a little together onto the other. “I’m kidding!” He reassures him, squeezing Peter tightly once more, hoping it feels just as comforting as Peter’s grip had previously. That was all he’d wanted, to offer a stranger some comfort, give Peter of all people some kind of escape, something so he knows that he doesn’t have to go through whatever he was struggling with completely alone, because no one deserved that. Especially not the kindest person Toby’d had the pleasure of meeting so far. “But thank you Peter!”
“For-, for what?”
“For saying I was nice. You seem pretty cool yourself.” Toby smiles again, resting his chin on top of Peter’s head before allowing the, not so much a stranger, stranger the chance to pull away.
“T-this was nice!” Peter stumbles over his words as he finally pulls from the hug himself, and Toby thinks, by the way his breathing picks up, that the boy had probably begun blushing. “I-I mean-.” He stutters through more lesser words before he’s managing to pick up proper vowels again. “I mean you are nice. F-for this.”
And Toby can’t help it as he laughs again. “I know Peter.” Feeling his own face heating up as he realises he’s probably staring back at the other a little weirdly, what with the blindfold covering the sincerity in his eyes. “I understand. And Look, this is probably completely out of pocket, and you can one hundred precent say no and never come back, but you sound like you’ve got it pretty tough, and I would happily talk it out with you in a more public place if you wanted?” Toby offers, before really thinking about the offer, and just how out of pocket it really is. “Actually, never mind, that was, like, really unprofessional, and-.”
But at the exact same time, Peter says, “I’d really appreciate that.” One agrees, and the other takes it back, and it somehow begins a cycle of stammering and mumbling, before, “I think we should.”
Somehow Peter breaks it up first, and Toby’s almost stunned into silence for a split second, before he too, finds his tongue. “Yeah. Yeah, I mean, I do too.” He rolls his eyes at his own awkwardness clashing with Peter’s, and thanks his inability to act like a human as he realises he’s still wearing the blindfold. “Pier 57 is a nice place to sit at sunset if you wanted to stick outside, but there’s a good coffee shop just round the corner if you want good coffee instead?”
Peter doesn’t comment on the blindfold still being used, and if it’s weird, he doesn’t show any indication of it unsettling him, but by the smile in his voice when he responds, Toby doesn’t think he really cares at all. “I’m sure you’ll need some warming up when you’re done.” He sounds, almost happy, and Toby notes the lack of sniffs with a sort of pride as he nods.
“That would be great.”
“Alright,” There’s a shuffle, which Toby assumes is a nod, then a laugh, and Peter giggles, like he’s about to make a joke, “I’ll swing by later.” Toby doesn’t understand the joke at all, or pun maybe? He doesn’t know, but before he can ask, Peter is tapping his elbow. “See you.” And like that was a wave, suddenly his presence is gone.
Toby sighs into the possibly empty street, hands rubbing together despite the fabric already wrapped around them, and hopes Peter feels the same sort of warmth in his stomach through all the chill. He feels better in a way, after Peter’s interaction, because he knows he’s helping people, if only slightly, by offering all these hugs, but to have that kind of response, it feels good. Like he’s doing good.
By the end of the day, Peter’s still his best ‘customer’ of the day, easily unbeaten by literally half of NYC, but Toby guesses that’s his own fault really, especially as he doesn’t want anyone to top Peter. Though he has had some pretty weird people that stick in his head just as well.
Firstly, there had been that weird guy in spandex who’d definitely blown something up before he’d pulled Toby in for a hug. He’d said something insane, but definitely not worth repeating, especially not in front of the still rolling camera, sorry to the editor for that, before disappearing just as quickly as he’d come. And then there was that girl with the dog called pizza, who’d seemed nice until she started talking about archery, and didn’t stop until she realised the queue she’d created of people waiting behind her for a hug. That had taken a while to get through. After that it’d been pretty slow. A lawyer had come by with the name Loggy, which was odd, but in NYC Toby didn’t bother to question it, and he was followed by a really sweet woman who hugged tight enough to balance out the weirdness of her friend. And pretty much everyone else had slipped from Toby’s mind.
People were kind, but forgettable, hugs easy and comforting, with stories that Toby hoped would be heard through his project, and with that hope, heavy in his chest, he finally pulls the blindfold from his face.
Only to jump back in surprise when he notices Spider-man perched just across the way from him. The superhero is settled close to the camera just by the alley, a little in the shadows as though he doesn’t want to be seen, but with the new suit he’s donned, the one the media’s been all over recently, his stealth isn’t boding quite so well.
“Oh.” Toby manages when he’s finally got his heart back under control, “hello. Do you want a hug too?” He asks a split-second later, wondering if Spider-man’s actually protecting the camera like Toby had initially assumed, or if he’s come for a hug.
But Spider-man tilts his head, as though he hadn’t been expecting Toby to finish so soon, and Toby almost wants to laugh at just how endearing the action is. “Uhm. No?”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
As if startled by Toby’s deduction, the eyes of the suit widen, and really, Toby thinks, could this guy get any cuter?
“Technically I already got one.”
It’s Toby’s turn to tilt his head, and he can only hope he looks half as cute as the superhero as he twists the blindfold between his fingers, trying to see if he can recognise the voice. “You did?” He asks, in hopes of prompting more conversation from the other, but as if he can sense the provocation with his Spidey senses, or whatever it is Spider-man uses to detect danger, or whatever it is he does, Spider-man just tilts his head the other way. “That’s not very friendly neighbourhood Spidey of you.” Toby sighs, carding a hand through his windswept hair, and only then does he fully grasp who he’s standing in front of. And, damn, he must look a hell of a sight, his emotions had been all over the place pretty much all day, and hiding tears behind a blindfold only lasts until you take the blindfold off. This is so not a good first impression.
As if suddenly sensing his dismay, Spider-man straightens, “I, uhm, I’m sorry, I just-.”
But he doesn’t even need to finish, because Toby knows. “Oh fuck. I asked Spider-man on a date. Peter?” He checks finally, feeling somehow even more stupid.
“H-hi? I’m sorry. I mean, I was going to change before, but I didn’t know when you were finished, and then it got too late for me to leave, and I completely understand if you don’t want to go on a date with Spider-man. Me. I mean. Like, I don’t even know your name, so I can completely forget all about this if you want-.”
And it’s so self-deprecating that Toby just, “Toby!” Blurts his name before he can help it. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but Spider-, Peter’s mask is doing this weird twisty thing, and Toby just can’t. “My names Toby. And Personally, I don’t want to forget anything, but if you don’t want this anymore I’d do my best to forget your name too.” Or he’d try to keep it from anywhere online at least. He’s not sure he could ever forget Peter.
The mask twists further, and for a second Toby thinks he’s really messed something up, but not two seconds later, Peter’s pulling off the mask to reveal a mused mop of curls, and a smile that’s way too radiant to be directed anywhere near Toby at all. “No. Don’t do that. I don’t want that.”
“Okay, me neither.” Toby nods with a smile of his own, hoping it’s at least half as charming as he’s trying for as he allows Peter a second to bask in his giddiness, and then finally, he nods, “Lets go.” He grabs the bag and his camera, then somehow manages to find Peter’s hand with his own, before finally he’s pulled into the alleyway.
It’s the wrong direction, and Toby stumbles for a second as he’s caught off guard, but he knows he’s safe, and he’s just really glad he’s not going to have to forget Peter, so he’d rather bask in that, and wait for the other to explain it all eventually. Which he somehow knows Peter will.