Chapter Text
This day, like most, was horrible. On top of being a crazy Monday filled with more traffic than usual for New York, it was a Monday that Peter Parker was late to work.
The daily bugle had been a part of his sad life since before graduation, mainly as a side gig to get money. However, deciding to skip college because of certain extracurriculars, Peter had to make a living somehow. What better way than taking selfies and willingly letting himself be belittled by a newspaper whose CEO was Spider-Mans #1 hater.
Checking that Peter had everything on him - Camera, pictures, Jameson’s coffee (I’m not a freaking intern), and spiderman suit hidden well under his clothes, he headed to the elevator that led straight to JJJ’s office, conveniently located on the very top floor.
Sighing with complete and utter exhaustion, Peter stepped through the open doors and pressed button 46 on the panel. He then slouched on the rusting railing that surrounded the interior of the elevator – once nice and green, but now muddy with brown blotches- and closed his eyes, waiting for the doors to close, and for his ascent to begin.
It had been a whole 3 months since Spider-Man was out on the field, so, Peter was a little out of practice. Months of nothing cannot be brought back within a week, so he was a little clumsy, little slow, and more than a little tired.
After 10 seconds, Peter didn’t hear the doors slide close, but instead, footsteps walking in with him. Firm and even, with the sound of dress shoes. From what peter could tell, the man – he assumed, his eyes were closed still - was here for business, given that no one else in this office beside Jameson himself chose to wear nice shoes.
He sighed again, in disappointment this time, and finally opened his eyes. Standing before Peter was a man much taller than he had previously suspected. Light and slicked back blonde hair, muscular arms and torso covered in an almost too small white button-down shirt, khaki slacks, and as Peter suspected, brown dress shoes. His kind yet watchful eyes observed the elevator, making note of Peters presence. A soft smile and nod his way, and the man turned around to press the button of his desired floor. Only, the button was already lit up. It seems Peter and this man had the same destination.
The almost too perfect man glanced at Peter once more, this time with a more observant gaze. Peter elected to give an awkward, closed lipped smile, to console the weird suspicious tension the was growing inside the elevator. it… kind of worked? The man seemed to notice what he was looking and turned his head away once more, this time in mild shame.
Peter would think he was weird, but of all people, he isn’t one to judge.
A minute passes before the elevators finally open, releasing the silence and engrossing them in the loud busywork of Jameson’s top journalists.
Wasting no time, Peter practically jolts out of the elevator to head to Jameson’s office. The coffee in his hand was still hot -less for the boss to be mad at- and the folder filled with his pictures were still neat and uncrumpled (a miracle considering his ride to work today). He nearly makes it before a voice speak up above all the chattering workers.
“Hey, uh, s-sir?” the voice shouts, almost confused, and as if knowing that they were talking to him, Peter turns around. The elevator man makes a B-line for him. Not wanting to be rude, Peter stands in place and waits for him.
“Yeah?” he asked, confused as to why this man waited until he was out of the elevator to talk.
“Um, well…” the man started slowly, but as if gaining confidence, the man continued. “I was wondering if you could take me to J. Jonah Jameson’s office. I came to talk to him, but I wasn’t given any other instructions that ‘go to the top floor’!” At the end he did a bad imitation of what Peter could only assume was one of the workers here. He couldn’t really blame them; heaven knows they probably don’t get paid enough.
“Oh.” Peter said understandingly. “Did you have an appointment? There’s a check in desk right over there.” He leans around the man and points to the desk right in front of the elevator, where Betty is playing on her phone.
The mans gives a slightly guilty look and rubs a hand on the back of his neck.
“Uh, no… I was told I didn’t need one,” the man muttered. Peter stared at him.
What visitor wouldn’t need an appointment to see the head of a company?
The question was just coming out of his mouth when a familiar shout echoed throughout the floor.
“PARKER!” Jameson shouted from down the hall, glass door opened wide and a condescending snarl across his face. Peter closed his eyes and gave a small wince at the force of his voice. It was a frequent sight – Peter getting yelled at- but none the less embarrassing, especially in front of new visitors.
“GET YOUR ASS IN HERE BEFORE I FI-“he suddenly cuts his demand short, leaving his mouth gaping. Peter furrowed his brows in confusion. He turned around to see Jameson in full view.
Nothing was said for a while, and all the workers had stopped to view the drama -Jameson never stops berating someone without good reason. – deciding to find out what the heck is going on, Peter starts to walk over to Jameson with the intention of handing him his coffee and photos.
“Sir, I’m sorry I was so late! The coffee place I usually go to get your drink was closed, so I had to run to the backup. I hope that’s okay?” Peter asked in a timid and submissive tone, but there was no answer. Jameson still stood frozen, looking beyond Peter was shocked eyes. Peter tried once again to get his attention.
“Mr. Jameso-“
“Captain America…” Jameson interrupted.
…What?
“Captain fucking America!” this time he was boisterous rather than disbelieving, and he shoved right past Peter to walk over to the man from the elevator.
What?
Peter dumbly stared as Jameson put on a wide smile and stretched out his hand. All the Elevator man did was smile awkwardly and reciprocate the handshake.
I… Shared an elevator with Captain America.