Chapter Text
Peter was tired.
It’d been a long day at work, followed by a long night patrolling the neighborhood as Spider-Man, and he just wanted to take a hot shower and throw himself onto his bed.
But he couldn’t, see, because the second he stepped into his apartment, he knew he wasn’t alone.
He threw his head back and let out a small, whiny groan before trudging over to his bathroom, where the light was creeping out from under the closed door and the sound of water barely drowned out the sound of someone humming.
“Dude, what kinda thief takes showers in their victims’ homes?” Peter called from the other side of the door, rolling his neck and preparing for another fight. He adjusted his jacket to make sure his suit wasn’t showing; he couldn’t risk anyone finding out where Spider-Man lived. He would have to tone himself down for this fight, make himself seem normal. God, what a drag. Better get it over with. Peter tapped on the door. “Are you lost, buddy?”
The water shut off, the rings of the shower curtain screeched across the metal rail, and shortly after that, a man opened the door with a towel around his waist. A blue towel, which… Peter wasn’t sure he owned a blue towel, actually. What, did this guy bring his own fucking towel to take showers in strangers’ homes? Who does that? Was it some kind of fetish? More importantly, why couldn’t Peter catch a fucking break?!
The intruder beheld Peter with an intense blue glare, brows furrowed, lips thin as he stepped into a fighting stance. His short brown hair was still lathered with shampoo, and water was dripping down his chest, which… okay, if this dude weren’t some kind of criminal, Peter might actually think he was kind of hot.
“Who are you?” the other man demanded, his voice somehow managing to be both stern and soft at the same time. “And what are you doing in my apartment?”
Peter let out a disbelieving laugh. “Your apartment?! This is my apartment!” He shook his head. “Dude, I am way too worn out to deal with this right now. Gimme a break. Who the hell are you, man?”
The other man looked at him like he was a puzzle he was trying to solve. He seemed genuinely confused about the whole situation. Did he actually think this was his apartment? Shit, had Peter accidentally entered someone else’s apartment? He did a quick scan of his surroundings, and, nope, this was definitely Peter’s crowded mess of a home.
“Um… Okay, listen,” said the other man, holding his hands up in a calming motion, as though Peter were some sort of rabid animal. He spoke gently as he said, “I don’t know what’s going on, but this is my apartment, okay? My name’s Peter, what’s yours?”
“I… Wh– My name’s Peter!” Seriously, what the fuck was his life?
The other man–Peter, allegedly–frowned and asked, “What’s your last name?”
Peter wondered if he was about to be a victim of identity theft. He hesitated, but those deep blue eyes were so… alluring. Or, trustworthy, or whatever. It was probably alright to tell him, right? He bit his tongue, then sighed and said, “Parker.”
The other Peter’s brows shot up, his mouth dropping open slightly. “I’m Peter Parker, too!”
Peter huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Sure you are, man.”
“I am!” The other Peter held up a hand, asking Peter to wait, and he picked up a pair of blue jeans from the sink counter and pulled a wallet from the back pocket. “Look,” he said, showing Peter his ID.
Welp, he wasn’t lying. His ID definitely confirmed his name was Peter Parker. It even had his address listed–the same as Peter’s. The address of the apartment they were currently standing in right now. But that didn’t make sense. None of this made sense!
Unless this was a con, and this guy had planned the whole thing out in advance…
Peter eyed him skeptically. “Prove it,” he demanded.
“What?”
“Prove you’re really Peter Parker and that you really live here.”
“I thought I just did!”
“How do I know you’re not some kind of con art–whatthefuck?!” Peter’s eyes went wide when the intruder disappeared, his image flickering for a moment before fading away completely.
Peter was alone.
Peter was… losing his mind, maybe.
Then again, stranger things had happened to him. He did fight a lizard guy that one time.
Peter stood frozen for a moment, gaping at the empty space where the other Peter had been. He blinked, forcing himself back into the present moment, and waved a hand through the air, as if the man might have simply gone invisible.
Nope. Nothing.
Some other dude named Peter Parker had ended up in his apartment and then faded away like some sort of apparition.
Well.
Peter wasn’t going to be getting much sleep tonight, that was for sure.
He wasn’t even sure he could take a shower, after all that. What if the dude came back?
Peter stood there for another few minutes, trying to process what had just happened, before finally letting out a tired, frustrated growl and stripping as fast as he could. He stepped into the shower and turned it on. Great, the water was lukewarm. That asshole ghost-identity-thief dude had taken up all the hot water.
Well, Peter didn’t want to be in there long, anyway. He was still worried the dude might reappear. He washed himself quickly and tried not to imagine those blue eyes staring at him from the other side of the shower.
When he was done, he dried off with his usual towel–a green towel. Seriously, where had that blue one come from?
More importantly, where had the stranger who’d been wearing it come from?
Peter’s mind raced as he climbed into bed, giving one last glance around the room before saying, “Whatever the fuck that was, can you not let it happen again until I’ve had, like, five hours of sleep? Literally just five hours is all I’m asking.”
He received no reply. Which was fine by him; he wasn’t in the mood for any more weird conversations with people that made him question his sanity. He pulled the covers up over his head, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.