Chapter Text
December 25th, 2024 - 225 Schermerhorn St, Brooklyn, New York, USA - 2:21 PM
“Thanks, Yaya,” Cheri said, smiling at her grandmother from over the present that she’d just been handed. Abuela waved her hand dismissively.
“It’s for you and the boy,” she said, and she winked good naturedly at Peter, who grinned back, and turned eagerly to the present in Cheri’s hands.
Cheri pulled the red and green paper free from the package, unearthing the box beneath it. It was nondescript, plain brown. Intrigued, Cheri tugged at the tape holding it closed, and opened it. Reaching in, she pulled out the tinier box on the inside. It was the perfect size for a gift card.
“Oh, is it what I think it is?” Peter asked hopefully. Cheri took the lid off the box, and grinned, flashing the $200 Visa gift card at Peter. He pumped his fist into the air. “Yes! Thank you, Abuela! We’re getting a mattress!”
Cheri giggled, and put the gift card back into its box. They desperately needed a new mattress, and those 200 dollars would go a long, long way towards paying for one. “Thank you,” she said to her grandmother, again, and Abuela blew her a kiss.
Cheri and Peter had been trying to make plans to find a new place to live, amidst planning their wedding, which was set to happen in February. Cheri had also been working hard to make it through her first semester as a middle school music teacher, while Peter had been juggling work for his master’s degree and Spider-Man duties. There was a new crime boss on the street, some guy named Tombstone, he’d told her. Cheri didn’t like the sound of him at all, and apparently, he was just as evasive as Fisk and Co. had been for so long, considering he’d made his first appearance in July, and they still hadn’t managed to catch him.
On top of that, crime rates in the city had, obviously, escalated, thanks to him. Peter was gone most nights, now. Cheri was hoping that he wouldn’t burn himself out again; that was the last thing they needed.
Maybe, with the promise of a new mattress at home, he’d be more inclined to sleep, rather than worry about what was going on outside the apartment they shared with Ned and Harry.
Speaking of Ned and Harry, their two friends were not happy that they were planning on moving out. Over the past few weeks, there’d been subtle, and not-so-subtle, attempts by the both of them to try and convince Cheri and Peter to stay. Ned had pointed out that, the minute Cheri left, he and Harry would go back to eating either take out or mac ‘n’ cheese every night. Harry had been a little more obvious about his desire for them to stay, in the sense that he’d hidden the deposit money that Cheri and Peter had already stashed away to save for when they found the right place. He had yet to tell them where he’d put it.
“All right,” Cheri’s mother said, pulling Cheri out of her thoughts. Isabel smiled and passed over another present. “This one’s just for Cheri. Peter, yours is in the closet. I have to go get it.”
“What -” He couldn’t finish the question, because Isabel had already stood up and walked off. He looked at Cheri, an eyebrow raised. “In the closet?”
She shook her head in response, indicating that she had no idea what her mother had chosen to buy for him. She’d said that he might like some sort of electronic, although what kind, she had no idea. Something he could take apart and turn into something else, maybe.
She tore into Isabel’s gift for her in the meantime, only partially aware of the amused look Abuela was exchanging with Peter’s aunt May, while Peter frowned at them both. Cheri unwrapped a box with a four-slice toaster on it. She opened that as well, certain that the box was disguising something else, but found nothing aside from the toaster itself. She blinked down at it. “What?”
“Is it actually a toaster?” Peter asked in surprise, and Cheri nodded, frowning a little. “Huh.”
Isabel returned, lugging along a heavy looking package behind her. Peter quickly jumped up and took it from her, carrying it to where Cheri still sat on the floor, toaster box in her lap.
“Do you like it?” Isabel asked her, reclaiming her seat on the couch next to May.
“I - I guess I’m just confused,” she admitted. “We have a toaster already, at the apartment.”
“A vacuum cleaner,” Peter announced, pulling away the last of the wrapping paper that had been around the large present. “Thanks, Isabel. I - vacuum cleaners are great, and I guess we have had the one at the apartment for years.”
Cheri shot her mother a look, which Isabel pointedly ignored.
“My presents next,” May announced, leaning across the coffee table and handing them both small packages. Cheri’s contained a gift card for JCPenney’s, and Peter’s held one for Home Depot. They exchanged confused glances.
“Thanks, May,” Cheri said first. “Thanks, all three of you. They’re… they’re all unique presents, definitely.”
“Yeah,” Peter said, looking down at the gift card in his hand. “Unique.”
There was a knock at the front door, then, and Isabel immediately jumped up to answer it. Cheri looked around. “Who could that be?” she asked Peter, who lifted his shoulders.
“Ho ho ho!” Cheri and Peter both turned towards the door, and Cheri burst into amused giggles at the sight of Tony Stark dressed in a Santa Claus costume, giant black boots and all. He lacked a large sack filled with presents, but he did carry a tiny box in one hand. His eyes glittered beneath eyebrows that had apparently been spray painted white. Cheri wondered briefly who’d been given the honor of doing that, and wouldn’t be surprised to learn later on that it had been Stephen Strange, who’d done so with a childish glee.
“Sorry I’m late,” Tony said, tugging down the fake beard that he wore, spitting out some hairs. “Traffic was terrible. I’ll never understand why so many people are out on Christmas.”
“I think you’re just in time, to put these two out of their confused misery,” May said, smiling at Cheri and Peter.
“Confused misery?” Cheri asked, frowning, at the same time Peter said, “No, no, the presents are great, really!”
Tony and Isabel exchanged a meaningful look, before Tony held out the box he held. A tag dangled off of it, addressed to both Cheri and Peter. “You open it, Peanuts,” Tony suggested.
“Uh… okay,” Cheri said, and she slowly leaned up and took the box from him. Settling back down, she held the box carefully in both hands. She looked up at Peter, who lifted one shoulder, looking just as confused as she felt. Cheri sucked in a breath, and pulled the lid off the box.
Inside, nestled in green tissue paper, was a keyring, with two keys hanging from it. They matched. Cheri pulled the keys out of the box, holding them up in one hand. She glanced between them, Peter, and Tony and Isabel, frowning again.
“What’s…?”
“Oh,” Peter said, eyes going wide. He mouthed wordlessly for a moment, gaping at the two adults, who were beaming. “You didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” Cheri asked, growing a little annoyed. “What are these for?”
Peter let out a laugh, and moved closer to Cheri. He slid his arm around her shoulders. “Think about it,” he said, speaking quietly.
Cheri did, considering the presents that they’d been given. The dots started to connect, puzzle pieces fell into place. Her own eyes went wide. “Holy shit.”
“Cheryl,” Abuela said, but there was no bite to the name. The old lady was smiling, even, content as could be.
“Did you - I mean… you couldn’t have!” Cheri exclaimed, jumping to her feet, with Peter following close behind.
“Why not?” Tony asked, lifting his shoulders casually. “It’s just an apartment.”
“In the city?”
“In the city,” Isabel confirmed, still smiling. “Cheri told me where you’ve been looking, Peter, and I mentioned it to Tony.”
“Completely paid for,” Tony put in. “Two bedrooms, one with an en-suite, lovely view. The kitchen’s separate from the living room, which, y’know, might not be choice, but I think it’s big enough for you to work with.” He winked at Cheri, who was finding it very hard to breathe, let alone speak.
“How much?” she finally managed.
Tony shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Cheri, it’s a Christmas present,” Tony told her. “Maybe yours to me can be you not asking how much my present for you and Peter was.” He nodded to the keys. “420 E. 51st. Very close to Stark Tower. It’s a great location.”
“And it’s close to your school, too,” Isabel added, looking at Cheri. “We made sure of that.”
“Máma -” Cheri began, but Isabel waved her hand.
“You can’t live with Ned and Harry once you get married,” she said. “And, honestly, we kind of suspected that if we didn’t give you some sort of push, you would never pick a place.”
“So, consider this your push,” Tony concluded. He huffed. “Am I allowed to take this jacket off, now? It’s very hot.”
While Isabel and May both helped Tony pull the coat off, Cheri and Peter looked at one another. After a moment, Peter turned back to the others.
“When - when can we move in?” he asked.
“Oh, we’re having some renovations done on the kitchen, first,” Tony said, “and the carpet in the front room had to be pulled up. It was green and… gross. Hardwood floors are going in instead, but it should all be done before February.”
Cheri knew that she should be asking more questions, maybe be putting her own input into design choices of what would be her home, but she was still too shocked to actually articulate much. Tony had bought her and Peter an apartment. Literally a home for them to live in, together, alone, for the first time in over two years of being together. She couldn’t believe it.
Her eyes landed on the toaster her mother had gotten her, and she suddenly couldn’t suppress a bubble of laughter that pushed its way up out of her chest. She cupped her hand over her mouth, giggling helplessly into it, the keyring hanging limply from the fingers of her other hand.
Peter moved over to her. “You need to go outside for a second?” he asked, and Cheri managed a nod, still laughing. “All right, c’mon.” He apologized to the adults as he shuffled Cheri past them and out of the apartment. They all watched the two of them go, and smiled at each other once they were gone.
“About what you expected?” Tony asked Isabel, who nodded.
“She handled it better than I thought, actually,” she admitted. “I figured she’d burst into tears, although I don’t know how much better the hysterical laughter is.”
“I’d definitely rather deal with laughter than tears,” Tony said.
“Anyways, drink?” Isabel asked.
“Yes, please.” He turned away as Isabel moved behind the counter in the kitchen, smiling at May. “May, you look lovely, as always.”
“Thank you, Tony,” May said, smiling back. “Glad you finally came.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tony replied. He looked past her towards Abuela. “Maria, good to see you.”
“Stark,” Abuela replied, dryly. “Wish I could say the same.”
“Mm, she’ll never like me,” Tony said to May, and he turned to take the glass Isabel offered him. “Thank you.” He took a drink of it, expecting whiskey, but found himself drinking water instead. He frowned down at the glass, and then at Isabel, who merely smiled.
“You think you’re having alcohol in my home three months after you had a heart attack?” she queried, and Tony snorted.
“So, this is where Cheri gets it,” he mumbled into his drink.
January 25th, 2025 - 71 2nd Ave., Manhattan, New York, NY, USA - 1:04 PM
“God,” Ned huffed, running his arm across his forehead. “How could the two of you fit so much stuff into that one room?”
Peter smiled in response, setting down the last of the boxes on the sidewalk outside of the apartment building. A couple of the mover men that he and Cheri had hired with their deposit money picked up both it, and the one Ned had carried down, taking both over to the truck. Harry had forked over the money (which he’d hidden under his bed frame) when they’d told him that Tony had bought them an apartment for Christmas, looking crestfallen. Apparently, he’d known then that there was no hope in them staying.
“It isn’t that much,” Cheri said, joining them. Peter wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her temple, while Cheri leaned into him, looking at Ned, a crease between her brow. “Thanks for helping, Ned.”
“Sure,” Ned said with a small shrug. “I think I got over it quicker than Harry did.” He glanced up towards the window of their apartment, frowning a little. “I don’t think he’s ever over it yet, to be honest.”
Peter followed his gaze, and saw a brief glimpse of Harry peering out from the window, before he disappeared. Peter sighed, quietly.
“I should go talk to him,” he said.
“We both should,” Cheri agreed. She turned towards the moving men. “We’ll follow you over there in a few minutes.”
“Sure,” one of them responded, while his coworker shifted around some of the boxes and furniture inside the truck.
Peter slid his hand down to take Cheri’s, and led the way back into the apartment building, Ned following behind the two of them.
They went upstairs, and opened the front door of the apartment. Harry was sitting n the couch, looking for all the world that nothing particularly interesting was going on. He glanced over at them when the door opened.
“Oh,” he began, and looked back down at the magazine he held. “Figured you’d be on your way, now that everything’s cleared out.”
“Harry -” Cheri began, but Peter set a hand on her arm, silently asking her to let him talk. She glanced at him, frowning a little, but stayed quiet, crossing her arms.
Peter approached the couch. “Hey,” he said, and Harry raised his eyebrows, but did not look up from the magazine. Peter exhaled. “Harry, we’re not disappearing off the face of the earth. You know that.”
“You’re moving out,” Harry replied. “What’s the difference?”
“The difference is that we’ll still probably be here all the time,” Peter answered, moving around the couch to sit down beside him. “I’m getting my master’s, so I’ll be on campus, anyway. It isn’t as though you’re never going to see us again.”
Harry sniffed, and Peter reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.
“You must’ve guessed that this was going to happen someday,” he went on. “Right? I mean, didn’t you have some prediction about where our relationship would go? That we’d get married, want to start a family? You couldn’t have thought we could do that while living here.”
Harry closed his eyes for a second, before he blew out a breath, and set his magazine off to the side. “Of course I knew you two were going to get married someday, have kids,” he said. “And logistically I knew that you wouldn’t want to do that here.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I just… I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think it’d be happening so soon, and I - I don’t know. Maybe I hoped that Ned and I would be… more involved.’
Peter grinned. “How much more involved do you want to be?” he asked, lightly. “You want to be a midwife when Cheri has a baby?”
“Well, no,” Harry answered, and Peter was relieved that there was a small quirk to the corner of his mouth, “but I at least hoped that we’d be able to help change diapers and stuff.”
Peter’s own smile softened, and he squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “Just because we’re not going to be living here doesn’t mean you won’t be able to do that,” he assured, exchanging an amused look with Cheri, who approached the back of the couch, and put her arms around Harry’s neck, leaning her head against his.
“We love you, you idiot,” she told him, and glanced back at Ned. “Both of you.” She pressed a kiss to the back of Harry’s head. “You’re going to hate how often you see the two of us, once we’re gone. I guarantee it.”
“Not possible,” Harry murmured, reaching up to grip one of her arms. He looked over at Peter, smiled again. “I love you guys, too.”
“And me!” Ned said, and he threw himself into the pile, tossing his arms around all three of them, somehow.
After a long moment, Harry blew out a breath. “I’ve suddenly decided that I hate all three of you,” he announced. “Get the hell off of me.”
Everyone laughed, and Peter stood up again, Harry following his lead. He and Ned trailed after Peter and Cheri to the front door, where all four of them paused, Cheri reaching to take her Honda’s keys off of the rack hanging on the wall.
“Well,” she started, looking between Ned and Harry. “I guess… we’ll see you guys,” she said.
“Yeah, let’s do dinner tomorrow night,” Ned suggested, and then he smiled a little. “At your place.”
Cheri mirrored the grin. “Sounds good,” she agreed, and then she hugged him, before turning to Harry. “No mac ‘n’ cheese.”
“But it’s the only thing I know how to cook,” Harry complained, although he was smiling. Peter watched him reach out and tug Cheri to him, into a tight hug. His friend inhaled, and pressed his face briefly into the curls on the top of her head.
“I love you,” he whispered to her.
“I love you too,” she replied, just as softly.
Ned looked at Peter, and Peter chuckled, reaching out to pull Ned into a hug.
“Oh yeah,” Ned said. “This is manly. I’ve never felt tougher.”
“You’re ruining the moment,” Harry informed him.
“Sorry,” Ned apologized.
With that, though, the moment had passed, and the four of them broke out of their hugs. Peter glanced between his two friends for a second, before huffing, and pulling them both in for one final hug.
“God, you’re the biggest sap -”
“Shut up, Harry,” Ned scolded, squeezing one arm tightly around Peter’s shoulders.
“Okay,” Cheri said, after a moment. “We really should go, now.” She leaned in to press a kiss to Ned’s cheek, and then slid her hand into Peter’s. “Dinner tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Ned agreed, rubbing his hand against his cheek, smiling a bit.
“Good,” Cheri said. She tugged lightly on Peter’s hand. “C’mon.”
Peter nodded in agreement, and let her lead him out of the apartment, and down the hall. When he glanced back, just before they started down the stairs, he saw both Harry and Ned standing in the open doorway, looking after the two of them. Peter lifted his free hand in a wave goodbye, and his friends responded in kind.
Peter followed Cheri down the stairs, and then back out onto the street, where they paused for another moment, and looked up at the building.
“We didn’t really start here,” Cheri began, “but it is hard to leave it behind.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, and then he looked at her, smiling a bit to himself. “But, y’know, it isn’t the actual apartment that’s home. Not for me.”
Cheri grinned back at him. “You are a sap,” she teased, and leaned up to kiss him, before settling back down. “Let’s go to our new place, hm?”
“Okay,” Peter agreed, and followed her towards the Honda, which was also packed with boxes, ones that contained the more personal things. “Hey, do you think it still smells weird?”
“No,” Cheri replied, settling into the car behind the wheel. “I’m sure the smell went away, once the renovations were over.”
Peter hoped so.
420 E. 51st St., New York, NY, USA - 4:23 PM
Peter collapsed onto the couch that he’d pushed into the correct position in the new apartment’s living room. He looked around, examining all of the things that they still needed to move, and unpack, and he groaned, covering his face with his hands.
He heard Cheri moving around in their master bedroom, unpacking clothes to put up in the closet. He knew that he could probably join her and help, but she’d told him to figure out the front room. He’d decided to take a break, however, considering how much furniture and how many boxes he and the moving guys had carried into the building. Now came the unpacking, and honestly, Peter wasn’t exactly in the mood for that.
“Peter!” Cheri called from the bedroom, and then she appeared from the hallway it was down. She held a pile of clothing in her arms. Peter sat up a bit, so that he could see her better.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I don’t know where the hell all our hangars went,” Cheri replied, sounding flustered. “I know we packed them.”
Peter looked around at the numerous boxes that littered the front room of the apartment. None of them were marked “hangars.”
“Maybe we left them in the car?” he suggested. “Did we put them in a bag or something? They might’ve gotten trapped under a seat.”
Cheri sighed. “I guess I can go look,” she said. “I really don't want to have to go down the stairs again. Or climb up them.”
“So use the elevator,” Peter said, and she made a face.
“You know I don’t trust any elevator aside from the one at the Compound,” she told him.
Peter groaned, wearily, but all the same hauled himself up and over the back of the couch. Cheri frowned at him the whole time.
“You do that every time,” she started, “and that couch is going to break before we’ve even lived here six months.”
“Right, sorry,” Peter said, standing up straight. “Habit.”
Cheri’s frown wavered only slightly. “Still,” she said, and Peter put up his hands.
“I won’t climb over the back of the couch,” he said.
Cheri, though, was already rearranging furniture in her head. "Maybe we could put the couch against the wall instead, and get some arm chairs for where it is right now."
Peter sighed, but decided not to argue with her. “Where’re the keys?” he asked instead.
“On the rack by the door,” Cheri answered, gesturing with one arm as she adjusted her grip on the clothes. “I guess if we can’t find them, we’ll just have to buy some.” She shook her head, and turned, walking back towards the bedroom. “I just don’t know how we could lose the hangars, but not the clothes.”
“I’d rather it be this way than the other way around,” Peter called after her, and headed for the front door, grabbing her car keys as he went. It was hard to think that, in a little over a week, they’d be married.
He didn’t really think anything would change.