Chapter Text
Some days Lara Jean loves her job. Smelling coffee, sugar, and vanilla all day, the air conditioning, and good tips if she smiles at customers.
Today was not one of those days.
She's covering one of her coworkers' shifts, which usually means double tipping, but people have been extra cheap and extra cranky. So now she's overworked, overwhelmed, and underpaid. Also, it's extremely cold, and the air conditioning is broken, so she's currently on the verge of hypothermia.
“What can I get you?” she asks the person in front of the register, not actually looking at them. However, due to their lack of response, she’s got no choice but to look up and find a brown-haired guy with puppy-dog eyes who looks at her like she just saved his pet from being rolled over.
For two seconds, she feels like she knows him. That she’s met him before, but he must be a regular customer.
“Are you okay?” she asks, which appears to wake him up because he stops looking at her that way. He nods, and she repeats the question: “What can I get you?”
“Um, I don't actually know. This is my first time here,” he confesses, which sends her theory to the toilet. There’s something so familiar in his eyes that unsettles her. “What do you suggest?”
“Me?” she asks, surprised.
“Yeah, um…” he says, squinting at the tag on her uniform, “Lara Jean.”
Then, again, something in the way he says her name makes her think that she has heard him before. She tries to ignore it. 8.58 million people live in this city; she must be confusing his voice with another’s.
“Well, if you’re not really into sweets, I suggest the carrot cake. It’s amazing and really smooth,” she says, pointing at the pastry. However, his eyes are still focused on her. “You sure you’re okay?”
He nods again and smiles. “I’ll have the carrot cake, and a black coffee.”
“Okay. To here or to go?” she asks, registering the order on her pad.
“Here, if you don’t mind.”
She tries not to show surprise at his manners. “Not at all, and your name is?”
“Peter.”
Five minutes later, she puts a piece of carrot cake and a mug of coffee on Peter’s table. He smiles at her in a way that makes her insides twirl.
“Thanks, Lara Jean,” he says her name like he’s used to it.
“I hope you like it. I’ll feel awful if you don’t,” she confesses, which makes him laugh.
“Let’s see,” Peter says, taking a bite of the cake. He chews it for a couple of seconds, and after swallowing, he smiles. “You’re safe. You’re so safe. God, this is amazing. What did you guys put in this? Heroin?”
Lara Jean laughs this time. “Lots of sugar and cream cheese, so yes, basically.”
“I could only eat this for the rest of my life, and I’d be happy.”
“And diabetic.”
“And overweight,” he adds.
“Glad you like it,” she says. “Is there anything else you would like?”
He seems to think about it, and some thoughts must be funny because a little smile tries to escape his lips.
“I’m okay. Would you like a piece?” he asks, taking her by surprise.
“What?”
“A piece of cake,” he clarifies. “It’s really good.”
Customers don’t usually share their orders. They just make it, eat it or drink it, and leave in less than twenty minutes, hopefully leaving a good tip. This guy is different. But a good different? A weird different? A creepy different?
“Uh, I don’t think we’re supposed to,” she says, looking for her boss in the back of the store.
“Yeah. Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking,” he apologizes, blushing.
Lara Jean smiles, trying to comfort him, and goes back to the register. Peter is the last customer leaving the place, and he makes sure to leave ten dollars in her tip jar. Judging by his clothes, he’s not the kind of person who can spare ten dollars, so she calls his attention.
“This is too much,” she says, taking the bill out of the jar.
“Says who?” he asks, walking backwards towards the exit, a smile on his lips that just widens at her silence. Without breaking eye contact, Peter opens the door. “Goodnight, Lara Jean.”
She thinks about him all the way to her apartment. Something reasonable, considering he was her last customer and the only decent one the whole day. He was also really cute and handsome. Not very tall, sure, but he seems strong and well-built. Lara’s cheeks feel hot at the thought, but the feeling vanishes as soon as it appears when some guy blocks her way.
Contrary to Peter, he’s skinny and really tall. He also has a creepy smile on his face and smells awfully like liquor.
“Hello there,” he says, walking towards her. Lara Jean is about to puke because of the smell, but also because of the fear. “A little bit late to be this alone, don’t you think?”
“W-what do you want?” she finds the courage to ask.
The guy looks at her, ogling her legs and her chest. She feels dizzy. “What do you offer?”
She takes a step back cautiously, at the same time that the man walks forward. She is ready to run, knowing that her chances of escaping are really bad, but fortunately, she doesn’t have to, because before she can even notice, a red and blue figure swings before her eyes and lands between her and the man.
“Hey guys, care if I join?”
The masked hero doesn’t wait for the answer. Instead, he shoots a spider web from his wrist and sticks the horrible guy to the wall. Then, he turns to her.
“You okay?” he asks. She cannot see him, but she can tell he sounds truly preoccupied.
This is the first time Lara Jean crosses paths with Spider-Man, and the situation doesn’t help, so the only thing she manages to do is nod slowly. He nods back and makes his way towards the web-prisoned bastard to say something really close to his ear. Lara Jean can’t hear him, but judging by the expression on the guy's face, it really isn’t nice.
“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
The words “it's not necessary” come to her mind, but after what happened, she keeps them to herself.
“Thank you,” she says, once her heart rate is back to normal.
“Don’t worry about it, but you really shouldn't walk this street so late at night. It gets really lonely and dangerous,” he says. This time, she catches it. His voice and the way he talks. Like with Peter, it sounds really familiar, like she’s heard it a million times before. She stops walking, and a second later, the hero does too. “Is everything fine?”
“Have we met before?” she asks, straightforwardly. The eyes on his suit adjust a little after she asks, which might correlate with his expression under the mask, she thinks. “I’m sorry, it's just... your voice sounds familiar.”
He keeps silent for a couple of seconds, long enough for Lara Jean to realize that he can’t answer the question. It would ruin the whole mask and secret identity thing. So when he’s about to talk, she interrupts him, embarrassed.
“Sorry, it was a stupid question. I’m sure I’ve heard you talk a million times on the news. That must be it,” she says, trying to convince herself in the process.
Spider-Man nods, and then, in a lower voice, he says: “Yeah. Maybe.”