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It was their first Christmas together as a couple and already it was getting weird.
Case in point: Peter deciding he should go home to Queens after the mind-blowing sex they just had.
Johnny was lying naked in the moonlight on his king size bed, sheets draped low around his hips, staring at Peter like he had just grown six arms again.
“You can't actually be leaving right now.”
They'd barely finished basking in the afterglow. Johnny had been banking on a round three, maybe in his built-for-two bathtub.
Since they’d gotten together Johnny was used to Pete leaving to go swinging in the early morning hours. But he was usually back before Johnny woke up -- often with bagels -- and he definitely had never left Johnny amid post-coital cuddling after fucking him thoroughly into the mattress.
“I can, actually. It's officially Christmas morning, Torchy.”
“Uh-huuuh. All the more reason you shouldn't leave me all by my lonesome.” Johnny leaned back against the pillows as he batted his eyelashes, shamelessly allowing the sheet to slide lower down his hips. It had the intended effect; Peter’s eyes grew dark and he licked his lips before shaking himself.
“All the more reason I should. It's hardly keeping with tradition if we both head to the usual place together.”
“Oh.” Johnny’s heart flipped stupidly in his chest. They hadn't talked about their annual meet-up yet this year. Johnny had just assumed it wouldn't happen; that when Peter had come by late on Christmas Eve — after Chinese with his aunt — it meant he’d be spending the night and joining Johnny for Christmas morning with the kids.
Their annual tradition had evolved over the years. First, it was a standard way to catch up when they didn't know when they’d next see each other. After all, Johnny had no name or number with which to contact Spidey. Then — that one year when Peter almost revealed his face and did give Johnny his number — things had changed. They started hanging out more, just because. Johnny, who’d already had a pretty massive crush and was still reeling from his sham marriage, fell even harder the more he hung out with Spidey. A bad call seeing that the guy was married.
Then things shifted again when he finally learned Peter’s identity. He’d brought Mary Jane and May to Christmas that first year, but they'd still done their own tradition in the wee morning hours.
Time passed. Johnny fell harder, movie night became a weekly, sometimes bi-weekly occurrence, and Christmas on top of the Statue of Liberty became less catching up and more “so, see you in a few days”.
Johnny used to wonder if the usual place, in general, meant more to him than to Peter. After all, he'd been stood up there quite a few times and was normally the one to contact Spidey first.
Yet here Peter was, leaving Johnny naked in his bed just so they didn’t break their tradition.
Talk about romance.
Peter was dressed in the suit and leaning over Johnny with his messy bed-head when he looked up again.
He tipped Johnny’s chin up and kissed him softly. “I’ll see you in a few hours, baby. Don't forget the hot cocoa.”
And then he was gone out the window while Johnny was still mouthing “baby” to himself.
They had plenty of nicknames for each other over the years, but pet names were a first. Johnny had always been partial to them and had had to stop himself from letting out an unwitting “babe” on multiple occasions over the previous six months. It was natural to him, but he also didn't know if it was them.
And then Peter had to go ahead and blindside Johnny with that while he was still processing the rest of the evening. On top of it all, Johnny hadn't even gotten to make fun of him.
“Ugh, he's the worst,” Johnny muttered, slinking further down on his expensive sheets, a fond smile in his voice.
He set an alarm on his phone and drifted back to sleep. A few short hours later Johnny was gathering up his Spider-Man thermos (a gift from Ben), his own gift for Peter and flaming on everything but his hands as he headed for Lady Liberty.
Their gifts to each other had always been either cheesy, a gag, or both. They'd decided they weren’t changing that now that they were together (although Johnny made zero promises for Valentine’s Day, and he might have spent a day this week in Macy’s stocking up for Pete’s birthday).
Peter was already there, of course, mask rolled half up and tapping at an imaginary watch on his wrist.
Johnny flamed off as he touched down, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, some of us were on hot chocolate duty.” They’d shifted a few years back to Johnny bringing the drinks, since it was easier for him to carry and he could keep it extra warm on the trip. It also became his new built-in excuse for being late every time.
Peter snorted. “Some of us didn't have to hitch a webline ride on a tugboat, resulting in many glares from a man with an eye patch.”
Johnny laughed and reeled him in for a kiss. Peter stiffened initially but relaxed after a moment, sighing as Johnny licked between his lips.
When they first got together after a hasty “fuck, you’re alive, I love you” adrenaline fueled post-battle hookup, it had been unclear exactly whom Johnny would be dating, publicly. One thing had been sure from the start: neither of them wanted to keep it on the down low, especially when the entire family came home to them making out on the sofa (not Johnny’s finest moment.)
But whereas Johnny was an open book — as far as his fans were concerned — Peter still had an identity to protect. They’d weighed the options over two Ray’s pizzas and ultimately decided Johnny would begin dating Peter Parker and not Spider-Man, otherwise they'd never get to go anywhere together without Pete wearing the suit.
As a result, Peter got a little uptight about things like Johnny pulling him in for a kiss while he was still in costume, even if they were on top of the Statue of Liberty at the break of dawn.
Johnny broke the kiss, grinning. “How was your morning, sweetie?”
Peter groaned and leaned forward to brush their noses together. “Alright, I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’ on terms of endearment.”
Johnny felt warm all over in a way that had nothing to do with his radioactive powers. “Didn’t say that, idiot,” he murmured, capturing Peter’s lips again.
Peter laughed into his mouth. “Such the sweet talker you are, Torch.”
“You better believe it, babe.” He pressed the words into the corner of Peter’s mouth, no sarcasm to be had at the pet name this time.
He felt Peter’s smile, small and pleased. Peter wrapped his arms low around Johnny’s waist, nosing along his neck. “I missed you and that’s ridiculous.”
Johnny laughed delightedly, tipping his head back and staring up at the pink-ish sky. “That’s so embarrassing for you. Should I tell Sue and Reed you’re moving in?”
Peter groaned, the sound muffled by Johnny’s skin. “There’s too many people and moloids alike in that building already.”
Johnny shrugged. “It’s a big building.”
Truth be told, Johnny never seemed to fare very well whenever he’d moved out. There was something comforting about the Baxter Building, especially how full of life it was lately. Part of him wondered if he just wasn’t ever meant to be away from his family.
Peter hummed noncommittally.
“Reed would probably expand another floor if we wanted. You could have your own nerdy science wing, I know how much you’d love that.”
That garnered a considering noise. Nervous energy passed through Johnny. He wondered what it would look like, just him and Peter in their own place instead, somewhere across town. Would he screw it up? Would Peter get sick of him without the buffer of a dozen kids underfoot? It was already weird with Ben living in his own place with Alicia on Yancy Street, despite Ben still constantly being around.
Peter must have sensed something in him because he squeezed Johnny tighter and kissed his neck softly. “Hey, I’ll think about it, okay? This is all still sort of new, right?”
Johnny frowned. Maybe in theory that was true, but it didn’t feel that way to him. For him, being with Peter now felt like the apex of that one grand romance he’d been chasing since he was a teenager, where Peter had lived beneath the surface of every relationship he’d ever had. He was more sure about this than anything in his life.
Peter pulled back, studying him. “Hey, what’s with that face? I’m not — geez, I’m ruining our first Christmas as a couple, aren’t I? I didn’t mean it isn’t serious, hot stuff. On the contrary, it feels — well, maybe it feels more serious than anything I’ve had in a long time. And maybe that freaks me out a bit.”
Johnny let out a breath and smiled crookedly. “Well, you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t freaking out over something.”
“Ha ha.” And then they were kissing again, deep and slow, Peter apparently now heedless of any potential copters flying overhead, ready to get the scoop of a lifetime.
“It’s serious for me, too,” Johnny whispered when they broke apart, foreheads pressed together. “In case that wasn’t obvious.”
“Mmm, I dunno, might need you to skywrite that in flames.”
“‘I love you, asshole’ has a nice ring to it. The Bugle would enjoy it.”
Peter cracked up at that, kissing Johnny once more before tugging him over to sit on the edge of the crown. “C’mon, I want my gift.”
“I already gave you a bunch of Hanukkah gifts, you know. This isn’t an equal exchange.”
Peter rolled his eyes and accepted the cup of cocoa that Johnny warmed up with his palms. “You gave me eight action figures of the worst members of my Rogues Gallery.”
“Let’s be honest here, Pete: your entire Rogues Gallery is the worst.”
“Says the guy who got locked in a closet by Plant Man as a teenager.”
“And what a formative experience it was.”
Peter spit out his cocoa, nearly choking on his laughter. Johnny patted himself on the back — literally — for that one.
“You are the worst, oh my god. Here, take your damn present.”
“Romantic,” Johnny snorted. He turned over the blue and gold wrapping paper in his hands. He opened it to reveal a pair of fuzzy Spider-Man handcuffs.
“Oh my god.”
“I know, it’s horrifying. Mary Jane saw them in a Spencer’s. I didn’t even know there still were Spencer’s.”
Johnny laughed helplessly. They were red and blue with little spider web patterns etched into the fuzz. “Oh, we are so using these. And, uh, they kind of go with my gift.”
“Please tell me it isn’t a Human Torch dildo for me to use on you.”
“No, but we should look that up.”
Johnny pulled out the package that he’d folded into his jacket pocket earlier.
Peter studied the shape of it. “I love you, Johnny, but don’t make me read some terrible next Hollywood project that you think you can actually act in.”
“It isn’t a script, loser. Ugh, open it.”
Peter did, tossing the Spider-Man wrapping paper (another gift from Ben) over his shoulder.
“Oh. Oh, no.”
Johnny leaned back on his hands, cackling.
“Oh, yes.”
“I — why would you do this to me? Why does this exist?”
“I’m a celebrity, Pete. It isn’t my fault you’re so ignorant.”
Peter flipped through the pages, wide-eyed. “This is… Johnny, this is people writing about us.”
“Mmhmm. Fanfiction, babe. Some of it isn’t all that bad.”
Peter gaped at him before waving the pages like a flag. “I can’t believe you’ve read this stuff!”
“Of course I have, have you met me? You should see the way I’m described in some of it. H-O-T.”
Peter put his face in his free hand. “Oh, god. My aunt can never know about this.”
“You didn’t even get to the second story; that one's about me and Spidey.”
Peter’s head snapped up. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” Johnny replied cheerfully, popping the P. “While there is definitely a substantial fanbase that ‘ships’ Johnny Storm and Peter Parker, there’s also a decent number of people who think I should be having a torrid affair with Spider-Man. I mean, if we were to get photographed up here it’d be a positively clandestine situation. A few people have already written about you nailing me against Lady Liberty’s torch.”
“Okay one: since when do you know what clandestine means? Two: I— I need time to process this. Oh my god.” Johnny watched as Peter flipped through the pages some more, eyes growing even wider with each speed-read. “This is. Hot stuff, this is positively filthy, is what it is.”
“Isn’t it, though? I personally was hoping we could re-enact page 21, I dog-eared it and everything.”
Peter flashed him a look before turning there. “Oh, oh that is—”
“Hot, right? I’m pretty damn sure I’m that bendy — yoga — but I think we should test it out just to make sure.”
Peter was pinching the bridge of his nose again. “I don’t know what’s worse; that this exists at all or that there’s apparently a ship war between Peter Parker and Spider-Man.”
“Ship war! See, you already know the lingo!”
Peter leveled him with an unimpressed stare. “Yeah, because the Angel vs. Spike one is all you talked about when you made us do that Buffy marathon.”
“A classic.”
Peter laughed, seemingly despite himself. He was still idly flipping through the pages Johnny had printed out.
“Oh. Oh, no, does Ben know about this?”
(“What’re yer doin’, Matchstick? Voting for yourself for People’s Sexiest Man Alive again?” Ben had quipped as he leaned over Johnny’s shoulder from where he was using the family computer. “Sweet Aunt Petunia, my eyes!”
Johnny had laughed as Ben stalked off, rattling the foundation of the building. “Serves you right, snoop!”
“The Ben! Professor Johnny has offended his delicate sensibilities!” Mik exclaimed.
“Delicate sensibilities, my foot,” Johnny had muttered before calling out, “I was only your professor for one day, you know!”
“The Ben!!” Tong and Korr yelled in unison while scurrying after them, Turg floating behind.)
Johnny coughed. “Um. No comment.”
Peter dramatically threw the stapled pages up in the air and Johnny caught them. “That’s it, it’s all over. I can never show my face around him or the people of New York again. I’ll move to Jersey, grow a mustache, and join a seedy underground syndicate. I’ll only emerge on birthdays and holidays.”
Johnny rolled his eyes and threw his arm around Peter’s shoulder, before counting off on his fingers. “Look, there’s a Fantastic Four comic and those movies they kept trying to do. I make the gossip column at least once a week, and I nearly had a sex tape scandal. Of course people are going to write dirty stories about me. You should be flattered they like us so much.”
Peter groaned loudly, but he pressed his face against Johnny’s neck. “I can’t believe this is the way you broke this to me. Our first Christmas as a couple!”
“Really? You can’t believe that? Also, c’mon, it’s a great story to tell our—”
He bit his tongue, literally. He’d nearly said ‘kids.’
“Our uh, moloids, when they’re old enough for such scandals. I already tried to teach them the birds and the bees once; it went widely off base.”
Peter raised his head, smiling at Johnny crookedly. “Our moloids, huh?”
Johnny blushed.
Peter took the papers back from him, shaking his head down at the gift. “I really hate how much I love you.”
“Ditto, Spidey.”
Peter leaned in and kissed Johnny, long and wet and slow. “Merry Christmas, Johnny,” he whispered as they broke apart, thumbing over Johnny’s fingers.
“Merry Christmas, Pete.”
“Whattdya say we go home, give the kids their gifts, and then work on pages 21 through 25?”
Home, Johnny thought, chest so full he thought he might burst.
“I say throw in those cuffs and you got yourself a date.”
The End