Chapter Text
Johnny groaned as the sunlight shined directly through the curtains and into his eyes. He begged Peter to let him buy better blackout curtains for his apartment. Repeatedly, actually.
Peter’s response had always been some variation of, “My curtains are fine, Johnny,” which was objectively bullshit. If the curtains were fine, Johnny wouldn’t currently be getting flash-banged by the fucking sun at—he cracked one eye open enough to squint at the Captain America-colored clock on Peter’s nightstand—eight fifteen in the morning.
On a Saturday.
Criminal.
Johnny rolled away from the window and buried his face in Peter’s shoulder, which had the unfortunate side effect of waking him up.
“Ugh five more minutes,” Peter groaned sleepily.
“Absolutely not. If I’m awake this early, so are you,” Johnny griped, nudging his nose against Peter’s neck just to be annoying.
Peter responded by tightening the arm that was already wrapped around Johnny’s waist and attempting to drag him closer, despite the fact that there was already zero space left between them.
“You are so mean to me,” Peter whined into his hair. “You know people are usually nicer to their boyfriends?”
“Yeah, well, other people’s boyfriends probably don’t have such shitty curtains.”
Johnny lifted his head just enough to look at him.
Peter looked terrible.
His curls were sticking up in at least six different directions, there was a pillow crease running across one cheek, his eyes were barely open. Johnny thought he was the sexiest person he’d ever seen.
Not that Peter needed to know that.
Can't have both of them having a massive ego.
Johnny leaned forward and kissed him instead, warm and slow and lazy in the way kisses could only be when neither of them had anywhere they needed to be. Peter hummed happily against his mouth and pulled him closer again, one hand slipping beneath the back of Johnny’s shirt.
Johnny smiled into the kiss.
Maybe being awake at eight fifteen wasn’t that terrible.
Peter was the one to pull away eventually, though he only went far enough to drop his head back onto the pillow.
“Ugh, fine. I’m up, I’m up.” He very clearly was not. “What do you want for breakfast?”
Johnny considered the question with all the seriousness it deserved.
“You wanna make pancakes shaped like dinosaurs?”
That got Peter’s eyes open.
He stared at Johnny blankly for a moment.
“Of course I want to make pancakes shaped like dinosaurs. What kind of fucking question is that?”
Johnny grinned.
“Triceratops?”
“Obviously.”
“T-Rex?”
“Johnny.”
“Stegosaurus?”
Peter shoved him away. “Get out of my bed.”
“Your bed?” Johnny gasped, catching himself on one elbow. “Wow. Okay. Good to know where I stand.”
“You have your own bed.”
“Which I haven't slept in since Wednesday.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“You asked me to stay last night!”
“And now I’m asking you to leave.”
Johnny dramatically flopped onto his back. “This relationship is abusive.”
Peter snorted and finally pushed himself upright, taking most of the blankets with him in the process.
“Hey!”'
“Actions have consequences, Storm.”
“Give me the blanket.”
“No.”
“Peter.”
“Nope.”
Johnny narrowed his eyes.
Peter narrowed his right back.
The standoff lasted approximately three seconds before Johnny tackled him into the pillows.
Peter yelped as they rolled sideways, knocking his glasses off the nightstand. He caught them as they fell, because of course he did, while Johnny took advantage of his distraction to steal the blanket back.
“Cheater,” Peter accused.
“You have literal superpowers.”
“So do you!”
“Not indoors.”
“That is absolutely not a rule.”
“It became a rule after the toaster incident.”
“We agreed never to speak of that again!”
Johnny wrapped the stolen blanket around his shoulders like a cape and climbed out of bed.
Peter stared at him.
“What?”
“You look ridiculous.”
Johnny struck a pose. “You think I’m hot.”
“Unfortunately.”
“You think I’m really hot.”
Peter pulled Johnny down to kiss him again, flames now shooting out of his short blonde hair.
“You set yourself on fire.”
“And yet you still kissed me.”
Peter’s expression softened for just a second.
It was tiny. Barely there. Johnny probably wouldn’t have noticed it a few months ago.
He noticed it now.
“Yeah,” Peter said, quieter. “I did.”
Johnny felt his own stupid smile creeping back onto his face.
It still did something to him sometimes. The fact that they were doing this. That Peter Parker was sitting in front of him with sleep-mussed hair and no shirt on, looking at Johnny like that. That Johnny could hold Peter and kiss him whenever he wanted.
So he did.
Peter laughed when Johnny climbed back on top of him, only crushing the superhero slightly.
“I thought we were making pancakes.”
“We are.”
“You're going the wrong direction.”
“I need a snack first.”
“I'm literally about to feed you.”
“Different kind of snack.”
“You're an idiot.”
Johnny kissed him.
Peter kissed him back.
They were going to make it to the kitchen eventually.
Probably.