Chapter Text
It was nearing two in the morning when Johnny touched down lightly on the rooftop, his flames quickly extinguishing as his feet hit the cold stone. He plopped down next to the red and blue suited figure who was already seated there, swinging his legs over the edge.
“You... will never guess what I brought.” Johnny gasped, out of breath from excitement and his hurried flight. Spider-Man’s masked head turned to look at him, his white lenses staring blankly.
“Some common sense and a brain!” Spidey’s voice took on a tone of mock panic. “Oh shit … who did you steal the brain from??”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Ha. Hilarious. Drumroll, please!”
Spidey slapped his hands on the roof in a beat that didn’t even sound remotely like a drumroll.
“I brought pizza!!!!!” He announced, pulling the slightly smoking box from behind his back.
If he could’ve seen them behind the mask, Johnny would’ve bet that Spidey’s eyes had gone wider than saucers. He let out a small shriek of joy.
“PIZZA! Oh, my god. Jonathan Storm, you are my HERO!"
Johnny smirked. “Don’t I know it.” He opened the box, letting the smell of pepperoni pizza waft over the two heroes. Spidey reached over and grabbed a slice.
“People always get worked up about how you save the world and stuff…. but really, I think the fact that you buy pizza for super broke, spider-themed vigilantes should make headlines! You should win awards! The Nobel Prize!”
Johnny snorted. “Really? The Nobel Prize? For pizza?”
Spidey shrugged, rolling up his mask to his nose and taking a big bit of cheesy pepperoni goodness. He sighed contentedly. “It’s definitely award winning pizza.”
Johnny tried not to stare, realizing suddenly that he had never seen any of Spidey’s face before. He had been hanging out with the guy for a couple of weeks now, fighting crime and meeting afterwards to talk about movies, (Spidey was obviously a huge Star Wars nerd, and Johnny loved to see how long he could get the guy to talk about it once he got started. The record: fifteen minutes straight.) tv shows (Spidey had officially dubbed Johnny “the waffle to my Leslie Knope,” which Johnny secretly took enormous pride in) and personal problems. Johnny talked about himself relentlessly, piling his worries on Spidey, who was an excellent listener and only broke in at the appropriate times. The only problem was, Johnny knew next to nothing about Spidey.
Johnny’s thoughts must have shown in his facial expression, because Spidey suddenly stopped eating his pizza slice.
“Something wrong, Flamebrain?”
Johnny bit his lip, shrugging, but Spidey didn’t seem convinced. Trying to calm his suddenly racing heart, Johnny took a deep breath. “Spidey-- why won’t you tell me who you are? I mean… we’ve been friends for a while now… you might even be my best friend, honestly. I talk about myself all the time, but you never do! I don't even know your name, man.”
Spidey put down his pizza slice. “Well… I mean…”
“Do you not trust me?”
“I trust you, man! Really! But… secret identity, dude!”
Johnny groaned exaggeratedly. Then he leaned in close to Spidey, narrowing his eyes. “Are you like super ugly or something? Oh my god! You actually have eight eyes! Or fangs?? You have fangs! Or… no nose! Like Voldemort! No, wait… that's a snake thing.”
Spidey laughed, and Johnny’s heart leaped at the sound, but he quickly kicked himself internally. Nope. No. Johnny was sixteen, and he had no idea how old Spidey was. Early twenties at the youngest, but no. No way. That could not happen.
Spidey’s mask was still rolled up, and he opened his mouth wide, making an “Ahhh” sound like he was at the dentist, showing smooth white teeth and a pink tongue. “See? No fangs!”
There was a smear of pizza sauce on his cheek, and for a moment Johnny almost wanted to just lick it off. Spidey’s lips were full and pink, and his jaw was smooth and surprisingly free of stubble or even nicks from shaving. His smile was so bright that Johnny felt like he was looking at the sun. Johnny’s heart fluttered again, skipping a beat. Oh no. Nope. Stop it, Johnny. Stopstopstopstop.
Spidey grinned goofily. “I might have eight eyes though… you’ll probably never know.”
Johnny pouted. “Awww… c’mon, man!!!”
Spidey waved his arms dramatically. “Satellites, Storm! Google Earth! Always taking pics!” He leaned in close to Johnny, as if sharing something highly confidential. “There could be a satellite right above us. I could take off my mask and then BLAMMO! Google Earth is putting it all over the Internet.”
Johnny sighed sarcastically. “Oh, Google Earth. What a bitch, am I right?”
Spidey shoved the rest of his pizza in his mouth, grabbing two more slices with his free hand. “My man, you are exactly right.”
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Johnny lounged on his bed, scrolling through his Instagram feed half heartedly. It was a Saturday, and usually he would be doing all sorts of cool stuff, like, you know, saving the world, but today he was bored out of his mind.
Reed was, as usual, holed up in his lab, and Johnny honestly had no idea where Sue and Ben had even gone. Sue might have said something about grocery shopping, but when was Johnny ever listening to anything his older sister told him? He sighed dramatically, flinging his arm over his face. He could always go down to the garage to work on his car, but he was pretty sure that if he messed with the engine one more time it might explode. Johnny looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. Hmm... Explosions? Actually, that could be fun….
“Yo! Flamebrain!”
A voice at his window snapped Johnny out of his stupor. Recognizing the familiar red and blue form, Johnny instantly brightened, jumping to his feet.
“Spidey! My man! Thank god you’re here, you have no idea how bored I was…” He opened the window, stepping back as Spiderman clambered over the sill and into the room. He whistled softly at the size of Johnny’s room, admiring the band posters and the enormous flat screen tv.
“Damn! Your room is huge, man!” He plopped down on a beanbag chair and held out a brown paper bag to Johnny, looking sheepish. “I, uh… I told my Au-- uh, family member that a friend of mine bought me pizza, so she made sandwiches and forced me to bring them to you.”
Johnny opened the bag, grinning as he pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the shape of a rocket ship. “A rocket ship?” He teased.
Spidey halted in carefully rolling his mask up to his nose, and Johnny saw the part of his cheeks not covered by the red spandex flush a deep pink.
“We have a lot of cookie cutters, man! It should be illegal to eat PB&J that's not in the shape of a rocket ship.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a sandwich that was shaped like a jack-o-lantern. Johnny snickered, and Spidey blushed harder. “I regret nothing! Nothing, Storm! Nothing!”
Fifteen minutes later, Johnny glanced over at Spidey, who was sprawled out on the floor of Johnny’s bedroom, groaning and holding his stomach. He hadn’t rolled down his mask yet, and Johnny stared, tried to memorize every line and angle of his jaw, the way his teeth flashed when he smiled, the color of his lips. Not for the first time, Johnny wondered what those lips would taste like, and a shiver of pleasure ran through his bones. No. Stop it, Storm. Stop it.
Spidey groaned again, jolting Johnny out of his daydream. Johnny laughed. “Dude! You should not have eaten so many sandwiches!”
Spidey rolled over so his face was smushed into the floor, and a part of Johnny wished he would turn back towards him, wished he could see those perfect lips one more time.
“I only ate ten, Johnny.” Spidey’s voice was muffled by the carpet.
He really had eaten ten sandwiches.. Each one was a different shape, too, but Johnny had stopped keeping track after he witnessed the quick demise of a bat, a train, and a Christmas tree.
“Well, next time tell your mysterious family member not to make so many sandwiches.” Johnny laughed. Suddenly something cold ran through him as a thought occurred to him that he had never once considered, and his heart dropped right to his feet. “Wait… you’re not, like… married, right? Do you… Oh my god, do you have, like… a wife??”
Spidey snorted so loud he started choking and had to lunge for the bottle of water on Johnny’s bedside table.
“Oh, my god, Johnny. I am NOT married. Jesus.” He rubbed his neck, looking embarrassed. Then, very suddenly, a smirk spread itself across his face. “Besides, I kind of think you have to be straight to have a wife.”
Now it was Johnny’s turn to choke, this time on the flower shaped sandwich in his hand. Did he… did he hear that correctly?
“Wait…. whaaa--”
Wow. Smooth, Johnny. Smooth. Spidey just watched him, that same smirk twisting those soft, pink lips. Johnny wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off his stupid, stupid face. Stupid.
“Ok… let me just…” Johnny couldn’t even get a word out, his heart was beating so fast. Was this a dream? Definitely a dream. Wouldn’t be the first time he had dreamt about Spidey….
“Johnny. Johnny! Hello! Earth to Johnny!”
Johnny snapped around to face Spidey. “Hm?”
Spidey sighed. “So, yeah. I, uh. Tend to prefer guys, actually.”
Johnny’s eyes bugged. Then a smile spread across his face, so wide that he probably looked like the damn Cheshire Cat.
“Well that's perfect... because it just so happens that...” He got up, the smile not leaving his face, and crossed the room until he was standing right in front of Spidey. They were almost exactly the same height. “I tend to prefer guys too.” And with that, he took Spidey’s face in his hands and pressed his hot lips against the other’s; finally, finally, finally. Spidey melted underneath him, kissing him back with so much passion that Johnny thought he would faint, and tangling his gloved hand in Johnny’s golden hair. He didn’t care that he didn’t know who Spidey was; he didn’t care that he didn’t know his age. All he cared about was how right it felt to hold Spidey in his arms, and how his lips, oh those perfect lips, tasted like PB&J.