Work Text:
Soft music played from a bluetooth speaker across the room, adding to the late-night atmosphere. It was 2 AM and you sat at your laptop, screen illuminating your face, blanket pulled up to cover your lap. You alternated between your college homework and scrolling social media, attention lost to the night. It'd been a long day, and you were pretending to be productive, giving yourself another fifteen minutes before you'd fall asleep.
Taking a deep breath, you rubbed your drooping eyes and stretched, cracking your back in the process. Your eyes drifted to the window, and you did a double take as a flash of red and blue swung in the distance.
Setting your laptop to the side, you stood up and made your way to the window to get a better look. It seemed like he was getting closer, and you began to make out the lines on his suit and the sound of his webs 'thwip'-ing through the night. He had made it to the apartment building across the street before looking around at the few people out this late. Making sure to be careful of nearby observers, he swung to the window next to yours. Your eyes were blown wide, staring right at him, but he didn’t even look in your direction.
Even after he slid past his window, closing it behind him, you stood staring at where he just was. Maybe that third cup of coffee this afternoon was one too many. Maybe you needed to get your eyes checked. Or maybe- just maybe- it was time to go to bed.
Carelessly shoving your homework to the bench at the end of your bed, you quickly got under the covers and closed your eyes, barely bothering to turn off your music. This was just sleep deprivation- maybe even stress-induced hallucinations.
--
The next time you saw him was three days later. You had just gotten home from work and were desperate to peel off your sweat-soaked uniform and shower off the terrible shift. Your hands went to grasp the edge of your shirt before something caught your eye from the window.
Spider-Man was sliding his window shut behind him before swinging off to patrol the city. Again, he never once looked in your direction. After a moment of staring, you came to your conclusion.
Not only was your neighbor Spider-Man, but he was also an idiot.
--
Needless to say, you definitely paid more attention to your window than you ever had before. He would slip out of it at random times of day to fight crime, but every night without fail he would leave his apartment at 8 PM to patrol.
There were only a few nights you tried to stay awake, trying to catch him coming home. Some nights it was as early as midnight, others he would slip in as you were getting ready for the day.
Now you weren’t only paying attention to the window.
You’d thought Peter was cute ever since the day you moved in and he helped you with your boxes. He was awkward, but in a charming way, and had looks that could kill but didn't seem to realize it himself. He was kind and thoughtful.
You thought about him way too much for how little you interacted with him. After he helped you with your boxes your interactions were never more than a little smile and a wave. Maybe a little small talk if you were stuck in the elevator together. The thought crossed your mind to get to know him better, but the poor guy seemed to have a lot going on.
He was always so tired and had a constantly pinched expression that gave off his anxiety.
Now you know why.
Given the nature of your relationship to him, you knew you couldn't casually corner him and say, “I know your secret.” You had to keep it to yourself for now.
--
This Tuesday was bound to be stressful. Two tests, a quiz, and a project final the next day. You decided that if there’s any day to indulge, it's today. You walk into your favorite café, ready to order the stupid expensive drink that would keep you alive for the next 12 hours.
As you waited in line, your eyes drifted to the glass case that held all the pastries. The corner of your mouth lifted in amusement as you saw the superhero-themed sugar cookies. They had the main six, but they also had cookies like Winter Soldier and the Falcon.
And Spider-Man.
Soon enough you were at the front of the line ordering your drink, trying to ignore the judgmental stare of the barista as you listed far too many syrups, and debating whether or not to make it worse.
“I’ll also take two Spider-Man cookies, please,” you tell them with a smile.
You had to make it to your first class, so the cookies sat abandoned in your bag as your day got busier.
Sitting on the subway you dug through your bag, checking to make sure you didn't leave your notes or calculator in the lecture hall again. Seeing the cookies made your day just a little better, pulling one out to celebrate a job well done.
Eventually you got to your apartment building, sighing as you exit the elevator. You fumble with your keys in the lock before you're reminded of the cookie still in your bag. Glancing to the right, to Peter’s door, you stuck your hand in your bag and pulled out the remaining Spider-Man cookie. Laying it gently on the (could you even call it a doormat) you went back to opening your door and heading inside.
--
Peter swung through the open window, sliding it shut behind him as he pulled off his mask and suit. He’d just gotten back from helping DeWolff with a robbery and was going to be late to drop off May’s flowers if he didn’t leave soon. He quickly put on a hoodie, jeans, and tied up his converse before swiping his backpack and heading for the door.
It swung open and he almost stepped on the cookie, not realizing it was there. He quickly looked down at the flash of color and stopped dead in his tracks. The icing in the shape of his mask looked up at him tauntingly as his breath caught in his throat.
Who in the hell knew he was Spider-Man? How did they know where he lived? Did they know who Peter Parker was, or did they just know his appearance? Did they follow him home? Was this a threat? What kind of a threat is a sugar cookie?
The alarm on his phone snapped him out of his thoughts, and he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket to turn it off. His stomach growled and Peter bit his lip, unsure of what to do.
He should throw the cookie away; he knows that. He should throw it away and just buy himself something to eat from the bodega that he bought May’s flowers at.
But the cookie was right here, and if someone wanted to threaten him, they would likely leave something more dangerous than a sugar cookie.
Despite his better judgement Peter picked the cookie up, unwrapped it, and took a bite as he locked his door behind him. It tasted delicious, and his senses would’ve alerted him if it was poisoned... right?
With a shrug Peter continued eating the cookie as he headed for the elevator.
--
You had been at your favorite local bookstore, scanning the shelves of new releases when your eyes passed over the plushy rack nearby. They sold commercial plushies but also handmade ones from local artists. You saw a group of crocheted Spider-Men hanging from the hooks there, and your mind shot to Peter.
The cookie hadn’t been there the next time you left your apartment, so he must’ve done something with it. You wonder what his reaction was...
With little thought you grabbed one of the plushies and a new book you had been eyeing and walked to the counter to check out.
By the time you got home you were doubting your decision. What if he was freaked out by the cookie and had thrown it away? But what if he liked it and ate it? What would he do with the plushy if you left it?
Shrugging, convincing yourself you need to stop overthinking, you leave the plushy leaning against his door and go inside your own apartment.
--
Peter had been out doing some grocery shopping when he came back to his apartment to find the plushy. His eyes immediately dropped into a suspicious squint as he eyed the soft thing.
He had almost forgotten about the cookie (which had not been poisoned), but now the plushy acted as a reminder. This couldn’t be malicious, could it? It was a cookie with his face on it, and now it’s a stuffed toy version of him.
With little energy left after a long day of switching between himself and Spider-Man, Peter simply slipped the plushy into one of the grocery bags he was holding and went inside.
This was a problem for future-him to deal with.
--
The next morning, before he slipped out of his window as Spider-Man, Peter stuck a sticky note to his doorframe. Maybe it was stupid, maybe the person wouldn’t even notice or read it, but he had to do something to get more information about whatever this person knew.
The yellow sticky note simply said, ‘Who are you?’ which Peter figured was plenty to get his point across. Kind of accusatory, but not aggressive.
--
You had been grocery shopping when you saw a children’s yoyo in the checkout line, red and blue emblem across the outside. You smiled as you put it on the conveyor belt, trying to ignore the habit you were building.
When you went to leave the yoyo by his door you saw the sticky note, an affectionate smile making its way to your face. Digging through the tote bag at your side you quickly found a pen and scribbled your response before walking back to your apartment and going inside.
--
Peter got home from patrol and his mind went back to the sticky note he left. He quickly went to his door and opened it to find a little Spider-Man yoyo and a response on his sticky note.
‘A Friend : )” was the only response he got to his question.
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he grabbed another sticky note to respond, leaving it in the same place as before.
--
Today was a slow day at work and you sat in the manager's office (watching the cameras for customers) while you finished making a paper crane. You’d made it a habit to practice your origami during these slow times. Eyeing the pile of paper nearby you noticed the different colors they had, specifically the red one. A lightbulb went off as you swiped a piece.
After about forty-five minutes of frustration, you now had an adorable little origami Spider-Man. And you knew exactly where its new home was.
You weren’t exactly surprised to find another sticky note, but you were surprised at the attitude coming from it.
‘That didn’t answer my question. What’s your name?’
Your eyebrows drew together in confusion as you pulled the same pen out of your tote bag.
‘You’re one to talk Mr. Anonymous Superhero. Can’t a guy have a secret of his own?’
--
Peter couldn’t help but love the little origami version of himself, placing it on the shelf in his apartment that once sat empty, collecting dust. Now it was covered in Spider-Man memorabilia. Someone might say it’s a bit arrogant, but it’s not like he bought them for himself. He didn’t find the sticky note quite as entertaining.
It’s not like he could be upset with you. You hadn’t told anyone (from what he knew of) and your gifts were always harmless- thoughtful, even.
--
The gift giving went on for a while, and the sticky notes never stopped. The gifts varied from cute to ridiculous- the most entertaining one to date was the Spider-Man balloon tied to his doorhandle that hit him in the face after opening the door. Or maybe it was the giant plastic tarantula left on his welcome mat that had genuinely scared him for a moment.
The sticky notes turned from accusations and teasing to little questions.
‘How was your day?’
‘What’s your favorite color?’
‘Are you okay?’ (This one you left after a particularly bad fight you witnessed on the news.)
It was getting harder for you to keep yourself from telling Peter when you saw him around. Now that you were on good standing- at least when it came to the gifts and sticky notes- you wanted to tell him but also didn’t want to ruin what you had going.
You couldn’t help but notice that Peter looked just a little bit lighter. One day you were in the elevator with him after work and he seemed so excited, you almost felt bad that you couldn’t leave him his gift right away or he would know it was you.
Sometimes the sticky notes were more serious.
‘I’m not going to tell anyone.’
‘Thanks.’
Peter wanted so badly to find out who you were. Who cared so much to keep leaving little things to brighten his day? Who wrote him notes that made him smile, who was so thoughtful to ask him how he was?
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew you lived in his building, how else could you so frequently leave him things? He knew you were a guy from your sticky note conversations; he knew your favorite color and drink, but he didn’t know your name.
It was his day off, one of the few he allowed himself, and Peter was lounging on his couch, the TV playing something he wasn’t paying attention to. He wore gray sweatpants and his ESU sweatshirt, sock clad feet resting against his coffee table as he let his thrifted couch swallow him.
‘Knock knock knock.’
Peter was instantly on his feet, face tense with caution as he walked as quietly as possible to his door, cursing himself for not fixing the peephole. He never thought anyone would knock on his door- nobody knew who he was.
Cracking the door open just enough for one of his eyes to peer out, Peter recognizes his cute next-door neighbor. The one he helped move in months ago and then hadn’t had the guts to talk to genuinely since. He wondered if you saw how his face lit up when he saw you, or the pink tinging the tip of his ears when you smiled at him in passing.
Opening the door the rest of the way he gives you an awkward smile, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. Before he could greet you, he noticed you were holding something, and his eyes darted to your hands.
Now, Peter had seen plenty of deformed Spider-Man popsicles, the eyes drooping and colors mixing together, but he’d never seen one quite so bad as the one you held in your hands. He doesn’t know what they’re doing to these poor things at the manufacturer, but it isn’t working, the colors aren’t even right.
“Surprise!” You smile at him, holding the popsicle out to him as a gift.
His eyes widened as he put two and two together.
“Wait... it was you?”
“Yup!” you popped the ‘p’. You were out of your mind nervous about talking to him, but you’d finally worked up the courage and it’s not like you could back out now.
Peter looked absolutely appalled, eyes tracking your face, “How did you know it was me?”
You shrugged, “You aren’t exactly slick. I saw you leave and enter through your apartment window. Well, I see you do it all the time, but that’s how I found out.”
Eyes still wide, jaw hanging open, Peter realized how careless he had been. Has anyone else seen him? You saw the distress on his face and your smile turned gentle.
“Don’t worry, I don’t think anybody else knows.”
Peter just shook his head and opened his door even more, stepping to the side to let you in. You handed him the popsicle as you walked past and he began to eat it immediately, not wanting you to feel bad. You really didn’t care if he ate it or not, but you weren’t going to stop him.
As you reached his couch your eyes caught onto his shelf, “You kept them all?”
Peter blinked as he closed the door, eyes darting to where you were looking. He shrugged sheepishly, eyes meeting yours.
“What, you thought I threw them away?”
A small smile decorated your face as you looked at him, “I don’t know.”
He invited you to sit with him on the couch, and the tension sat heavy on both of your shoulders.
“So...” You tapped your hands on your thighs, eyes darting around his apartment. It was sparsely decorated, most of it being taken up by his huge PC setup with multiple screens and machines whose purpose you had no idea. “You’re Spider-Man, huh?”
Peter let out a genuine laugh, the tension getting to him, “Yeah.”
“How did that happen?”
Once both of your guards were down you talked for hours, trauma dumping to essentially a stranger, and finding community where you previously felt none. The relief Peter felt at having someone acknowledge both sides of him was immense, he hadn't felt anything like it since Ned and MJ. You weren’t exactly isolated, you had friends and coworkers and family, but none that you saw often enough to feel the connection you should.
So once it got dark enough outside, you reluctantly sighed.
“I should probably head out so we can both get some sleep.” You stood up and Peter followed, a frown quickly overtaking his face.
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Peter led you to the door, opening it for you as you stepped out. You hesitated on his doormat, turning back to face him.
You patted your legs awkwardly while standing there, biting your lip before you spoke, “If you’re free tomorrow you could come over... I was gonna’ make chicken and pasta.”
The look on Peter’s face made you backtrack, his surprise making you think you had said the wrong thing.
“Or, you know, we could not do that. Just pretend I didn’t say anything,” you shook your head and looked down to hide your embarrassed blush. “I’ll just go back to my place-”
Peter pulled you close and his lips brushed your cheek, feeling the warmth of your blush before he pulled away.
“I’d love to.” You couldn’t doubt for a second what he meant when he smiled at you like that. You matched his expression, relief clear in your features.
You let out a sigh, “Okay. Okay, that sounds great. I’ll... I’ll see you then!”
“See you.” Peter slowly closed his door.
Making the short way back to your apartment you bit your lip to hold back the sounds of joy threatening to escape. After closing your door you leaned back on it and sighed as your heartbeat erratically in your chest.
It wasn’t easy for you to make friends, and even when you did it felt forced or awkward as you tried to figure out how to talk to them. Those few hours with Peter were the most comfortable you had shared with another person in a very long time.
You couldn’t wait to get to know him better.