Chapter Text
In Johnny's humble and very correct opinion, winter was the best season.
Especially New York winter. The heavy coats, the fluttering lights, and the pilled-high snow. Said snow would also lead to boisterous laughter from children and adults alike, as they built wonky snowmen and threw snowballs back and forth. The laughter often bled into the music as he flew past apartments, parties, or businesses. The entire city was decked out in all kinds of lights of all colors - a dazzling blur he could always rely on.
If he could capture this moment forever, he absolutely would.
The only downside of the holiday season was the sheer number of photo shoots, collabs, and interviews. Everyone wanted some form of promotional material with the most favorable Fantastic Four. Throughout the year, his emails are chock-full of brand deals, but everything seems to double come the holiday season. Whether it's Santa red lingerie or snow white skin cream, every company wanted a taste of Johnny Storm after the first speck of snow hit the road.
In the years before, the most annoying part was getting up before the sun and going to sleep long after. Even then, it was the perfect excuse to meet up with Spidey post-patrol and get a midnight snack on the top of the Statue of Liberty. Hours and hours of trying to keep the other awake as eyelids got heavier, the sky got brighter, and fits of laughter became more frequent. He distinctly remembers falling asleep on the lovely lady's head more than once and waking up in the comfort of his own sheets with a "goodnight" note from Spidey and a scolding from Sue.
Now, however, the most annoying part is the godawful photographers. Johnny couldn't really blame them, but he sure as hell would curse them out in his head. Christmas is the season of giving, so his company decided to let up-and-coming photographers try their hand at shooting the Johnny Storm. At first, Johnny was excited - new faces and new ideas, both for him and for the company. It seemed like an amazing opportunity for everyone involved. Emphasis on "seemed", however, as it quickly became evident why they've never done this before. These up-and-comers were unprofessional in as many different ways as you can imagine.
If their photos are good, their personalities are worse than the sewer rats. And, of course, if they seem to have actually decent manners, it's like it's their life's mission to make Johnny as unappealing as possible. For the past week, it's been asshole after asshole. Whether it's leers or glares, insults or borderline harassment — he just can't seem to catch a break.
It's 11:30 pm. He should be outside, flying straight to Lady Liberty's crown. He should be chowing down on the best food he can find that's still open. He should be enjoying the view that would be sitting right next to him. He should be venting about the asshole that can't shut the fuck up to an equally pissed off Spidey, but nooooo. Here he is. Standing with his hand on the doorhandle, and Josh, whatever-his-last-name-is, is still bitching and moaning about "how it's unfortunate such a pretty face has such an ugly personality." Sue would be proud — he's currently just short of genuinely biting his tongue off so he can just leave.
"You are by far the worst client I have ever had the mispleasure of-" God, his voice was so shrill, Johnny could've sworn it caused a ringing in his ears.
"Glad we agree. You're fired." Johnny bit out, not caring about a response as he swung open the door and slammed it shut. Josh's continued yelling filtered through the door. Johnny groaned.
Steamed formed around him as his feet burned a print into the asphalt. He took one big, deep breath and pushed off the ground, letting fire engulf him and the cool night air calm him. Another benefit of winter - he can burn as hot as he wants, and no one dares to complain. Even as he feels his blood literally boiling, the little bits of cold air that slip past his fire help turn the boiling into a simple simmer.
You really never truly realize just how much the weather can affect your mood until it all feels the same. A nice spring sun has the same heat as a summer blaze, and a cool autumn breeze is barely different from a chilling winter wind. In all honesty, if the flowers weren't as beautiful as they were and the leaves didn't fall, he'd barely realize the seasons were changing at all. The sun is both ever-present and ridiculously redundant as far as Johnny was concerned. He'd been compared to it more than once - both for his heat and for his vanity, mostly from Ben. He was his on heat - the sun barely mattered. NO matter how much he cooled his body temperature, he could barely remember what it felt like to have the sun kiss your skin. The cold, however, that he could feel if he tried. If he dropped his heat just enough, he could feel the wind bite at his skin and snowdrops chill his skin.
If he did the math just right, he could match his internal heat to the outside cold and feel what everyone else would for just a little while.
As he approached the Baxter Building, he had to take another long, deep breath. Unfortunately, the cold air can only do so much, and he really wanted to complain. He was supposed to pick one photographer every week for a new shoot. However, this would be the 10th photographer he would have fired, and it's barely even the first week of December. By the 4th photographer, Sue told him that he can't keep firing them "on a whim" and that "there are only so many photographers willing to deal with him." Of course, the most she knew was that they annoyed him - he wasn't stupid enough to mention the snide comments or sleazy glances. He wanted someone to hear his woes - not scold him for the umpteenth time.
Ben would just make fun of him, calling him a drama queen or diva or, at this point, probably both. By the 7th, Ben had begun leaving little mirrors outside his door with messages like "mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the whiniest of them all." He wanted an ear to complain to, not a rock that would poke fun at every little annoyance.
Which leaves Reed - who, at this hour, is probably knee-deep in whatever research he is conducting. He'll either pretend to listen or start to listen and quickly get distracted with what he's working on.
Reed to the rescue yet again.
He flies through the window to Reed's lab, expertly landing on the circle Ben had constructed with "LAND HERE MATCHSTICK" written in big, bold letters. He accidentally caught an experiment on fire one time, and then the circle was there the next day. He's slowly been burning the letters away inch by inch. He's halfway down the first line in "L."
"Yo, Reed! You here?" He sauntered through the different constructions, blueprints, and lab equipment. The only negative to seeking out Reed - actually finding him. His lab was well on its way to being classified as a labyrinth. Thankfully for his still simmering rage, Reed's shadow danced over a plastic curtain sectioning off one of his newer experiments - something to do with radioactivity if Johnny remembers correctly.
"You would not believe the prick of a photographer I had to deal with!" He pulled back the curtain to find not Reed, but a much younger, much cuter scientist glaring at him. A smile formed on his face before he could stop it.
"Reed's finishing writing out a theory for Dr. Banner. He should be back soon." The cute scientist said, sounding almost hostile. He was… glaring? at Johnny, looking at him like he was a spider about to sink its fangs into him. Equal parts annoyed that he got in and one second away from squishing him before he strikes.
Johnny blinked. What?
He had to shake out of his shock. He's had people be annoyed at him, sure, flirt with him, hell, even fling insults at him. But this? It felt like this adorable scientist was done with Johnny's shit before he even started. Which, okay, fair, but it felt… personal? He couldn't even get out a "Hi, how are you? You free on Saturday?"
"You've known me for approximately 5 seconds." Johnny steps inside the sectioned-off area, leaning against one of the tables and crossing his arms. "So why do I get the feeling you already don't like me?"
The cute scientist's glare only deepened, shuffling away from Johnny. Okay, now it had to be personal - no one in their right mind would willingly step away from the walking, talking furnace in this weather. Even the lab was struggling — Reed insisted the temperature stay as "consistent" as possible. He didn't want the change to affect any of his many ongoing experiments.
"See! That!" Johnny gestured towards him.
His glare, somehow, got worse before a thought seemed to strike right through him - he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened his stance, chin up, pushed shoulders, and feet slightly apart. "I don't… " he repeatedly tapped his thigh, clearly thinking of what words he wanted to use. "…dislike you." He grimaced, clearly displeased even with the ones he chose.
Johnny looked extremely unimpressed. "So this is how you greet everyone you meet?" Johnny matched his stance.
"I won't bite you. Or burn you. So what's with the cold shoulder, cutie?"
His face scrunched in confusion, then shifted to shock, looking away as if at an imaginary camera, and finally back to Johnny, absolutely flabbergasted. Cutie was an apt nickname - if only he weren't so… prickly.
"Cutie?"
Johnny opened his mouth to continue, but the scientist held up his finger, silencing Johnny. He closed his mouth with an audible click, gesturing for the scientist to continue. He should really learn his name, huh.
He rolled his eyes, but Johnny could see the beginning of a smile tugging on his lips before he wills it away. "I-" He barely got out a single syllable before Johnny could quite literally see the confidence drain out of him. He practically deflated like a balloon.
Johnny waits for a minute more, but the scientist doesn't continue, looking down at the floor in a combination of bewilderment and exasperation. He looked like he was begging it to swallow him whole. Johnny leans ever-so-slightly forward.
"Let's start over. I'm Johnny Storm. Though something tells me you already know that." He holds out his hand. "Don't really know what I did to piss you off, but sorry for whatever it was."
Something in his expression turned to… pity? His sharp eyebrow turned upward, with his eyes softening to follow. His body went from deflated to defeated, like he was trying not to spook a shaking puppy. Now that pissed Johnny off. "You-"
"No. I should be apologizing." He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and shifted slightly. His shoulders sank, even hunching forward a little, and he lowered his head. He looked up at Johnny with eyes best compared to a puppy dog. Staying mad at him was really difficult. "You didn't do anything to annoy me or piss me off. I… heard stuff about you and was… rude to you because of it. I'm sorry." Johnny stared at him for a solid 5 seconds. It was near impossible to get a clear read on this guy. One second, he looked ready to bite him (and not in the fun way), and now he looks as if Johnny sneezed too loudly, he'd disappear into dust. From cute and annoyed to cute and awkward in 5 seconds flat.
"I'm Peter. Uh… Peter Parker." He held out his hand.
Johnny will deny it later, but he gawked at him for an extra 10 seconds before shaking out of his stupor and meeting their hands halfway.
"Johnny Storm. Hi, how are you? You free on Saturday?"
Peter let the tiniest snort of a laugh escape him before his whole face dropped, squared his shoulders, and glared at Johnny. "Or, maybe, the things I heard about you were exactly correct." And he turned on his heel back over to his experiment.
"Wait! Sorry! That was shitty of me." He stepped back into Peter's space, not too much but not too little. He planted one palm on the desk and leaned his head over. Peter stayed focused on his experiment, measuring different components.
"Look. I'm just here to help Dr. Richards. We don't need to be friends or buddies or anything." He didn't glance at Johnny once.
"Look, I'll admit. That was a dick move, but it did get you to laugh a little. I-"
"Mr. Storm. Let me be clear - you're here to talk to her brother-in-law, I'm here to assist him. That's. It." He banged the glass on the table for emphasis before quickly
"Has anyone ever told you you're prickly as hell?" Johnny could not get a read on this guy, and it was really starting to annoy him. Correction: It was really hard to stay mad at him until he opened his mouth. Then it seemed easy as hell.
"Yes. Multiple times. Now, please." He gestured towards the entrance. "If you don't mind, I need to focus."
Johnny gave an exasperated huff. "Pete, look-"
"Peter." Even his own name was venom on his lips.
"Look, Peter, if you're gonna be hanging around here and I quite literally live here, wouldn't it be a good idea to at least end on a good note?" A peace offering. Even if he did piss him off, Johnny was sure he wasn't that much of an asshole to-
"I don't see why that's needed. This is Reed's lab, which means the only person I need to get along with is him." He didn't glance up from his clipboard as he hastily scribbled whatever results he was looking for before dropping the clipboard onto the table and chucking off his lab coat.
"You are just his annoying, flirty brother-in-law," and with that, he turned, looked at Johnny one last time, and left through the plastic curtains.
Okay, now Johnny is even more pissed. Hit him right where it hurts, what don't you? How much did he know about him? He obviously doesn't like him, but, just like earlier, that last comment felt… pointed. Which, honestly, it shouldn't. He's been called worse. So why the hell, when this cute- this asshole sneered at him, did it feel like a slap right across his face?
And then the plastic curtain opened again, and he was greeted with none other than Mr. Fantastic himself, nose deep in a blueprint before finally looking up.
"Oh. Johnny. Didn't hear you come in."
Johnny smirked and dramatically held his hand to his heart. It did hurt, after all.
"Reed! You would not believe the shitty photographer I had today."
——
Reed loved to get lost in his creations. As of late, it didn't happen as often with so many people asking for solutions, machinery, testing, and so on and so forth. When so many people are relying on you, it's difficult to just experiment for the fun of it. To test something, just to test it, even if nothing happens or it ends in utter failure.
Johnny and Ben love to joke that he's basically unreachable when he gets lost in his work. The rest of the world falls away, and all that's left is whatever is in front of him. He has to disagree, because even as he oh, so carefully drips the acid into the solution, he hears the telltale noise of footsteps behind him. The weight and speed could belong to only one person in the Baxter Building.
"Hello, dear." He lets the acid drip and carefully puts both bottles down, twisting his head around for Sue to kiss his cheek, keeping his eyes extended on the bottles. He got a laugh for his efforts. The acid and solution mixed into a vibrant yellow - a failure.
"Has Johnny come to complain yet?" She lets out a sigh,
"Just left, actually." Every so often, he'd check back into Johnny's ramble to hear about how "he doesn't even know basic composition" or "he spoke as if I'd hadn't been modeling for literal years." He spoke more at Reed rather than to him, venting his frustrations and then flying out of the designated Johnny window after being shooed to the designated Johnny land/launch pad.
He noticed Johnny burning away Ben's message. He won't mention it as long as he keeps landing in it. It took him weeks to rebuild the jet prototype.
Sue let out a heavy sigh, rubbing at her temples.
"What's wrong?" Reed broached.
"That's the 10th one this week. All he says is that they're 'annoying' or 'unskilled.' If I try to dig further, he brushes me off." She crossed her arms, leaning up against the side of the lab table. Sue was a worrier, and she always worried about Johnny the most.
"Have you tried his past photographers? I know there was one he really liked." He stretched his arm around Sue, grabbing a different acidic solution and dripping it into a different vial of the same solution. An almost inhuman purple was the result - a failure.
"Unfortunately, due to the nature of this new collaboration, all his old photographers are out of the picture - they have to be new." She handed another from the collection of acids to his outstretched hand.
"Thank you. Maybe start interviewing the photographer beforehand? From either Johnny and/or you?" He dropped the same amount into the solution.
"Also already tried that." Sue started to chew on her nail - Reed hadn't seen her do that in a couple of months, the last time being when Valeria was trapped in an alternate dimension.
Then an idea blossomed.
"My intern."
"Peter? What about him?" Sue questioned.
"He's a photographer and has experience shooting Heroes, but it's mostly street photography - not within a studio. The photographers are new but not inexperienced like he would be."
And then that expression, one he dreams about, breaks onto Sue's face. Her eyebrows raise as her tense features soften. Like a wave of assurance washing over her and, by proxy, those around her. The whims of people will always fail him, but seeing his wife figure out the best way to please those who need it never fails to woo him.
"Nancy, Johnny's manager for this whole thing. She mentioned how she was looking for "a new eye" among the photographers. Didn't fully know what she meant at the time, but this might be it. She might agree to it even with his lack of experience." She handed him the final acid, and down it went into the solution. In its wake, a clear, barely there blue - Perfect. Just what he was looking for.
"I'll ask Peter about the job tomorrow," Reed assured.
"And I'll ask Johnny and Nancy tonight,"
One final kiss and off she went.
"And don't be late for dinner," Sue called from behind her.
"HERBIE set a reminder for 4 hours."
—
He knows his sister is going to check on him before he even hears the first knock on his door. Having Invisible Woman as your sister is both a blessing and a curse - oftentimes, it's mostly the latter. To probably no one's surprise, spying quickly became one of her favorite pastimes, and, with nearly imperceptible footsteps, it's an extremely easy one. He still has the jar full of coins, keeping track of every time she's scared one of the 4. And so, being in a house where privacy can be a scarce resource, Johnny has trained his ears to pick up her soft footfall. He still lets out a scream anytime she thinks she's snuck up on him - both so she doesn't know he knows she's there and because the triumphant laugh she lets out each time reminds him of when they were younger.
Reed and Ben are much easier to predict - whether it's literal rock for feet or the distinct sound of skin stretching, both rarely try (and succeed) to stealth within the building.
Which leaves his sister. The one who loves to enter and leave unannounced.
This time, however, she has the decency of a warning — a steady knock at his door.
"Come in." He says offhandedly, turning the page. He steals a glance at her and groans.
She has that look on her face. The one that informs Johnny they're going to have a conversation - one he definitely doesn't want to have - whether he likes it or not.
He's sprawled out on his bed, scrutinizing some of the issues from a few weeks ago. Currently, he's looking through the one for the new reindeer lingerie set. To put it nicely, it looked off. To put it truthfully, he looked like shit. The lighting looks almost sterile, washing Johnny out horribly, and the composition made him both look and feel queasy. Not to mention, it seems like they chose the one photo that didn't show off Johnny's best assets. For, ya know, a lingerie set? As painful as the photo came out, whatever conversation Sue wanted to have was almost certainly more painful. He glued his eyes onto the page as Sue sat down at the edge of the bed.
"How'd that photo come out?" She broached, leaning over his shoulder.
"Fucked. I look like a stale pile of reindeer shit."
Her nose scrunches up. Which would be funny if her expression didn't sour even more when she actually looked at the photo. Her eyes shoot to the wall. She goes to reprimand him, probably something along the lines of "Ew. I did not need to see that," but she just sighed instead.
"I'm surprised you haven't made a complaint yet." He spares her eyes and his own and closes the magazine.
"I have, but more so to the magazine, rather than the team. He's inexperienced - both he and his editor, but at least he was nice." He flings the magazine into the pie forming on the floor. He'd like one issue that both looks nice and wasn't a pain in the ass to shoot - just one. Call him vain, but likes saving any photoshoots he can - less for how he looks and more for the memories. However, if those memories suck, it takes a lot of self-control not to chuck them out the window.
"What happens to the ones who are mean?"
"Easy. I set them on fire." Sue let out a huff of a laugh, accompanied by a fond smile on her face. A win in Johnny's book.
"Do you need help hiding the bodies?"
"Nah, I'm big and strong. I can hide them on my own." He plucks another magazine from the pile on his bed.
She sighs again, and Johnny bristles. He knows what comes next - the moment his sister basically turns into a mother. She has this… posture anytime she needs to scold Johnny. Her way of speaking changes, almost like she's verbally walking on eggshells. Despite that, her words always have this finality to them that leaves almost no room for argument. Of course, Johnny argues anyway. It never fails to make him feel 13, and her feel 55.
"I know you don't want me to help-"
"Meddle."
"But. I might have someone who you'll be able to connect with more easily." She says it slowly and deliberately. Johnny groans dramatically, flinging the magazine behind him.
"Who?" He asks with a sigh.
"Peter - Reed's intern."
Absolutely not. Not that prick. He may be nice to look at, but no way in hell is Johnny going to be stuck with another asshole photographer. He'd sooner enter the Negative Zone than deal with that ticking time bomb. He opens his mouth to refuse -
When an idea crosses his mind.
Well, technically, two.
He could try to befriend him - use the designated however many hours to woo him with his natural Johnny charm
Or
He could piss him off even more - use his natural Johnny annoyance to push every button the intern has.
Win-win in his book.
"Sure. Why not. He can't be any worse than the others." He tries to say it flippantly - the last thing he wants is his sister even more on his ass. He'll keep his plan and his… tenuous relationship with Peter to himself for now.
"Perfect." She says it like a surprise - she was expecting more pushback. Whatever, never look a gift horse in the mouth. "Reed still has to ask him, so hopefully he says yes."
She ruffles his hair. He rolls his eyes and swats her hand away. She's been ruffling his hair more often as of late, and it's starting to make his blood boil. She used to do it all the time right after the Marvel incident. At the time, it was unnerving. He'd be chilling in the common room when an unseen force would suddenly plant itself on his head and mess up his hair. He would let out a very manly scream and only slightly accidentally set himself on fire. And so, the scare jar began. Thanks, Ben.
"Let me know if there's anything else I can do." She has that twinge in her voice that Johnny dutifully ignores,
"There is something actually." Sue's eyes snapped to his.
"You can leave." Finally, miraculously, Mom-Sue is gone, and his sister is back - smacking him in the arm.
"Cool, Johnny. Nice and subtle." She says half between annoyance and understanding. She smacked his arm one more time, much more gently, and pushed herself off the bed. She opened her mouth to say one last thing, but shook it off, leaving Johnny to his slanderous magazines.
She closed the door and looked down at the enthusiastic response from Nancy - now all that's left is Peter.
He opens another to, thankfully, see a pretty good photo of himself. Only to then remember the asshole behind the camera and slam it shut. With a groan, he throws it onto the pile on the floor. He really hopes Peter is at least halfway professional. He'll take fake nice and decent photos over all the other bullshit that's been slung his way.