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One moment he's in Reed's lab, and the next... he's somewhere else. In a bed, to be precise. It's narrow, but not so narrow that it feels like a cot. Johnny knows something's wrong the moment he opens his eyes and a pounding headache crashes into him. Or maybe it had already been there, and he's just now noticing it. He groans involuntarily and gives up on sitting up, just trying to catch his breath.
When he tries again, a gentle hand presses against his shoulder.
"Whoa, whoa. I wouldn't do that if I were you, man. You took a pretty bad hit to the head."
The voice is male, but young. Young enough to make Johnny blink through the pain and try to focus. Standing in front of him is… a kid. Dressed head to toe in a red and blue costume. Johnny wonders if he's hallucinating, but the hand on his shoulder is real. And even though his instincts tell him to push it away, he's still too groggy to bother.
"Where am I? What the hell are you?" Johnny grunts. "Is it Halloween or something? Why are you in a costume?"
"Um. Sorry, but you're asking a lot of questions for someone with a concussion, don't you think?" the kid mutters, mostly to himself. "I found you passed out in an alley while I was on patrol. Judging by your uniform, I figured you were some kind of hero, and I thought you probably wouldn't appreciate waking up in a hospital. Although… your face wasn't covered? So I'm guessing you're not big on the whole secret identity thing. Unless you're a shapeshifter and that's not your real face. In that case, hey, no judgment."
It takes Johnny a few seconds to process the flood of words slamming into his brain. He considers just flying off, but then he remembers that trying to take off right now might result in accidentally lighting the place on fire.
So he lets it go. He settles back into the pillows and closes his eyes, rubbing his temples while the kid keeps rambling.
"And, to answer your question, I'm Spider-Man," the kid says, as if that explains anything. "And you are…?"
"Batman," Johnny replies, rolling his eyes. Because seriously? Spider-Man?
The sarcasm lands. The kid shifts uncomfortably and avoids eye contact.
"Uh, nice to meet you, Batman. I know that's not your name or alias, but I get it if you want to keep things private. Not everyone is Steve Rogers, right?"
"Who?!"
Silence. The kid stares at him like he just committed some kind of heresy.
"You know. Captain America?"
"That's a name?!"
The kid visibly deflates. "You're... not from around here, are you?"
"Around here is a pretty vague term, kid," Johnny mutters. And how is it even possible that he can tell there's a kicked puppy expression behind that mask? "Where exactly am I?"
"Queens."
"Okay. What year is it?"
"Well, it's 2025, AD." The kid pauses, thinking. "Though it's also year seven of the Reiwa era. Or 5785 to 5786 in the Jewish calendar. Or—"
"Oh, for God's sake."
"Right. Shutting up now," the kid replies quickly.
Johnny looks around and realizes he's in what appears to be a bedroom. It's basic and kind of bare. Definitely someone's home. Probably the kid's.
"This your place?"
"Yeah. I live here," the kid answers.
"How long have I been here?"
"Since last night. It's ten o'clock now, so… just under 24 hours."
"In your bed?"
"Hey, I swear the sheets are clean. I wash them regularly and switch out the pillowcases—"
"Where did you sleep?" Johnny asks, narrowing his eyes. The place is small. He doubts there's more than one bedroom.
"The couch," the kid says like it's obvious. "Got it last month, actually."
There's a hint of pride in his voice. Or maybe Johnny’s imagining it.
"Alright, how about a name, kid?" Johnny suggests. "So I can thank you properly for saving my ass."
"I don't think that's a good idea, sir. There's a reason I wear the mask. It's to keep my identity safe."o
"Well, newsflash. I don't care," Johnny replies with a shrug. "I'm not even from here anyway."
Right.
Reed's teleportation experiment. It's completely safe, Reed had promised. We'll scan and encode all of your quantum data, transmit it at the speed of light, then reassemble you with atomic precision at the destination.
Johnny had stopped listening halfway through. He shouldn't have, probably, but Reed explaining quantum mechanics ranks high on Johnny's list of things that put him to sleep.
And now, here he is. In a strange universe where people wear spider costumes and call themselves heroes. And where apparently nobody knows what he looks like behind the mask.
What. The. Fuck.
"You're not from here?" the kid asks, clearly fascinated. "So you're a multiverse traveler? Like Peter Two and Peter Three?"
"What the hell is that? Bananas in Pyjamas?"
The kid shakes his head in frustration, but doesn't get mad. Which makes Johnny think this probably isn't the first time someone's been confused about his pop culture references.
"Well, let's just say you're not the first person to fall from the sky into Queens, mister. So, you know, welcome to this universe. Or Earth? But, look, I can make some introductions if you like, to the people that can help you get on your feet and find your way back home. Or rather, I can take you to Sanctum Sanctorum. You'll find Doctor Strange there. He can help you. I can't come with you but... it really is the best place for you to start—"
The kid keeps talking, and Johnny wants to shut him up but he finds that he just... doesn't. He can tell by his voice that this kid is young, probably in his early twenties, which means he shouldn't be fighting crime. But he does, and that says something about who he is, even if Johnny doesn't know him.
"Nah. It's fine, kid. Reed... well, my people will find me soon," he replies. "It was a science experiment of sorts, going wrong, but they'll come. For now, I guess I'll get off your back. Thanks for helping me out."
He makes a move to get off the bed, and the kid is quick to hold him back.
"Hey, it's fine, really. You can stay here until your people come get you. I'm sorry about the place. I know it's cramped and it's not really made for guests, but, uh, I do have a spare toothbrush somewhere that you can have. It's yours, really. And I have some leftover pizza in the fridge, if you're hungry. Also, there's some cereal and I have a kettle for coffee and a—"
Something catches the kid's attention, because he suddenly stops talking. That's when Johnny notices the smile on his own lips. A dumb smile, and maybe even an affectionate one, if it weren't so unsettling to smile like that at someone you barely know.
The truth is, staying serious around this kid is impossible. Peter Benjamin Parker, as he'd enthusiastically introduced himself (full name, like they're exchanging diplomatic credentials). Johnny had offered his own last name in return, even though "Storm" probably means nothing to him.
But that's progress. Johnny isn't about to be an ungrateful jerk or put up walls with someone who's been nothing but kind, respectful, and easy to talk to. A little clumsy, yeah. Very awkward? Sure. But in a way that's more endearing than irritating.
It doesn't help when Peter decides it's safe to take the suit off. Granted, Peter is young. Young and pretty. The kind of pretty Johnny actually notices. Enjoys it. He wants to touch, to have. Not the softness of a woman with curves and long hair kind of way, but a clearly male body with sharp lines and solid muscle.
Johnny should've seen it coming the second he clocked how tight the suit fit; like it was painted, but he'd been too busy having a break down at the time, so cut him some slack.
Not that it changes anything. But yeah. The kid cleans up nice.
It's on a hot, humid night that Peter comes back limping after a patrol. Johnny pauses the movie he'd left playing—Alien—and watches as Peter climbs through the window, lands on the floor with a quiet thud, and takes a few seconds to stand up again. When he does, he pulls off the mask, and Johnny sees a thin streak of blood sliding down his forehead.
Johnny can't help the concern. He rushes over, his hands finding Peter's shoulders.
"You alright there?"
Peter looks surprised for a second before nodding. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just, uh, slipped and fell. It was dumb. The thug I was after took off." Peter laments the last bit, like it's some kind of personal failure that he's bleeding. "Anyway, don't worry, I'll clean up. I've had worse."
The words should make Johnny feel better, but they don't.
He walks Peter over to the bed, making sure he's steady before going over to the closet where he knows Peter keeps some first aid supplies. There isn't a lot to work with, and the first aid kit is old and almost empty. "You should have a better stocked kit for emergencies," Johnny scolds, shaking his head.
"Yeah, I probably should." Peter chuckles softly. "I always mean to go to the drugstore, but things keep coming up."
"Who usually patches you up?"
Peter doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to, Johnny already knows. He just hasn't thought about it until now. Peter really does do this alone.
"Okay, here's the thing," Johnny starts. "You're obviously a kid and you should be out playing video games instead of taking care of the neighborhood. And don't get me wrong. I know how this gig works, I've been doing this for quite some time myself, but y'know, it's different when you have someone watching your back. And, for some reason, it sounds like you don't."
Peter smiles. It's not his usual goofy grin. It's small, sad, and so genuine it hurts.
"I'm fine."
Instead of arguing the way he wants to, Johnny gently removes Peter's hands from the wound on his forehead. He soaks a cotton ball in alcohol and presses it carefully to Peter's skin. Peter winces, but says nothing. Johnny applies disinfectant, then finishes by placing two butterfly stitches over the cut.
"Good as new," he says, offering a soft smile when their eyes meet.
At this distance, Johnny notices how big and bright Peter's eyes are, though they're always dimmed by a tiredness that doesn't seem purely physical.
"How about taking a break from the whole hero thing for a few days?" Johnny suggests. "That leg is only going to put you at risk."
Peter's expression falls, his shoulders sinking with a defeat that feels almost physical. "And in the meantime, what do you suggest I do?"
It's a ridiculous question.
Johnny isn't that much older than Peter, but he's pretty sure that when he was that age, he was too busy partying and sleeping around to worry about how to fill his time. The truth is, boredom eventually catches up to everyone. That's not exactly his case right now, but the party-hard days are behind him.
"Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Sleep, eat, go out, date… you tell me." Johnny shrugs, but the response just seems to make Peter even sadder. "Hey, I'm sure a pretty face like yours will get plenty of attention," Johnny teases, winking. He's half joking, but not really.
He watches as Peter blushes and stumbles over his words for a second. He's too adorable for his own good.
"Come on. Don't you have a girlfriend?"
"I, uh… I did. But I guess I'm single now," Peter confesses, avoiding Johnny's eyes. "And I'm pretty sure there isn't anyone interested in me. It's cool, though, I don't—"
"Oh please. Are you really that blind?"
Peter blinks. "What?"
Johnny sighs. He doesn't have time to unpack that particular conversation.
At least, the topic seems to ease that abandoned puppy look, and the smile Peter offers makes it all worth it.
It takes Johnny about fifteen minutes to realize the kid is a certified nerd. Not nerd like Reed, although he wouldn't be surprised if he were, especially considering he makes his own web shooters. But Peter is a nerd to his core. The Star Wars and Star Trek marathon only ends when the sky starts to brighten and Peter has to head out for class and his part-time job.
By Johnny's count, it's been around eight days since he landed in this universe, and so far, there's been no sign that Reed is even close to figuring out how to bring him back.
The idea of following Peter's suggestion and looking for this Doctor Strange guy is starting to sound better by the day.
"Who the hell goes by the name Doctor Strange?"Johnny had asked with his mouth full of popcorn, during a break between one Harry Potter movie and the next. "I mean, is he supposed to be a scientist or something?"
"Uh. Not exactly," Peter had said. "He's a sorcerer."
"Bullshit," Johnny replied. It's not that he's closed-minded or anything, but as an engineer surrounded by scientists, the concept of magic just sounds ridiculous.
"It's true! He's a sorcerer. He used to be the Sorcerer Supreme until Thanos showed up and wiped out half the universe, including him. Then Wong had to take over, and things kind of stayed that way when everyone came back. He's actually the reason no one remembers me," Peter added, and once again, that sadness crept into his eyes, even if he didn't realize it.
"What do you mean, no one remembers you?"
And even though they're still practically strangers, Peter tells Johnny everything; from the moment he was bitten by a radioactive spider to the moment he lost everything and everyone.
That's when Johnny realizes: Peter must be feeling very alone in the world. And he feels the need to share with Johnny, a virtual stranger, just to be able to talk to someone who actually seems to be paying attention to what he's saying.
It makes something break inside Johnny. He couldn't imagine a life without his family; without Sue, Reed and Ben. They might be the most frustrating people in the world sometimes, but without them, he'd be nothing.
"Before, I had all these amazing people in my life. May. Happy. MJ. Ned. Before, I had Mister Stark. They made everything so much better." Peter sighs. "I guess I'm still trying to... find my place."
"Hey," Johnny says. "I don't know if that means anything to you, but you've got me now."
That makes Peter laugh. Johnny watches him smile, the sound of it ringing in his ears like a beautiful melody.
And Johnny thinks, oh, yeah, bad timing for that one, Johnny boy.
"Soon you'll be back to your own universe, where I'll just be a distant memory." Peter smiles wistfully, shrugging as if that doesn't bother him. "But I hope you'll remember me nonetheless."
"I'm sure I will, Petey," Johnny replies with a chuckle. "I'll always remember the weird Spider-Kid."
Peter laughs again, his entire body shaking. "It's Spider-Man, mind you, Mister Human Torch."
"Well, that makes sense, doesn't it? I'm really hot," Johnny replies, shameless, grinning as Peter turns bright red and stumbles over his words. "I'll be taking the compliment as it is, thank you very much."
Peter only turns redder, and it becomes Johnny's favorite pastime, making Peter blush. It's way too easy.
Johnny finds that the kid has a good heart, a brilliant mind, a pretty smile, and a great laugh. He's sweet, shy and selfless.
And the more the days go by, the more Johnny wants.
"Hey! My universe looks more or less like this," he comments one day, pointing at the TV. They're watching The Great Gatsby, and the first shot of the city is an image that's strikingly similar to the skyline of Johnny's own universe.
"Really? Do you live in the past? The movie is set in 1920s. Your universe is, like, a century old?"
Johnny scoffs. "We have a fucking flying car, you uncultured swine!"
Peter laughs at that, and it's the most beautiful sound Johnny has ever heard. "So, you're from a retrofuture, huh? That's cool!"
"Something like that," Johnny replies, laughing as well. "One of these days, I'll take you for a ride in our fantastic car. It's one of the gadgets I came up with. Had trouble adapting my nephews' stroller, but he's bigger now, so it's fine."
"Such a doting uncle."
"What can I say?" Johnny flashes a seductive smile. "I'm a total sweetheart."
It takes him a moment to realize Peter isn't responding. His expression is hard to read. One second, there's that easy smile. The next, his face turns quiet. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but there's a certain tension in him that Johnny can almost feel beneath his skin.
That's what makes him move in slowly, eyes on Peter, ready to step back and act like nothing happened if there's even the smallest sign he doesn't want this too.
But Peter doesn't pull away. He closes his eyes like he's waiting. Johnny watches him wet his lips, a faint shimmer of saliva catching the light, and when their mouths finally meet, the only thing that exists is the warmth and ease of the kiss.
It's gentle, but insistent. Johnny cups Peter's jaw and holds him in place while he deepens it, and Peter moans so softly he might have missed it, if he weren't pressed against his body.
Johnny runs his tongue along Peter's mouth, and the little gasp he hears as a reward makes the hair at the back of his neck stand up. When he feels Peter's arms curl around him, a hand tangling in his hair, his entire body throbs.
They keep it at just that, no rush, no pushing for more. He loses track of time as the kisses stretch from seconds to minutes, until finally, Peter is the one that breaks the spell, slowly pulling back. His eyes open to stare at Johnny's face.
"That's..." He exhales shakily. "You're—"
"That bad?"
"No! I mean, it's just… you're the first person I've kissed since MJ. And I—"
Peter looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath, as if to compose himself. When he looks up, he smiles, a bit shyly, and Johnny wants to wreck him. He really, really does.
"Well, for the record, Petey, you're a great kisser."
Peter grins like Johnny has just given him a gift.
"Thank you?" he replies and laughs again.
After that day, it's easy to forget about anything else outside this tiny, cramped apartment. It's a fucking domestic haven that Johnny is starting to get too attached to, but that's a problem for Future Johnny, isn't it?
"What can I do to help?" Johnny asks as he spreads kisses on the back of Peter's neck. The bed is small for the both of them, but they're managing just fine, especially with how easy Peter fits against Johnny's body.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you're doing your best. Fighting crime, working and studying, while I'm just taking up your bed. Not fair, is it? What can I do for you? Name it. I'll do anything."
Peter chuckles softly and turns in his arms, staring right at Johnny. "Just being here helps, Johnny," he says and presses a quick peck against Johnny's mouth. "So just be you and keep being you."
Johnny feels a tightness in his chest, knowing that these moments are numbered, and when they're over, they'll never be repeated again.
They share slow, tender kisses. They exchange words like secrets. They hold on tight, as if afraid to lose the one they're holding. It's been just a few weeks, but yeah, Johnny's getting really attached.
"Although... it would be great if you could help with laundry. It's my least favorite chore."
Johnny chuckles.
"I guess that can be arranged," he says with a grin before stealing another kiss. "I happen to be an amazing housewife, if you haven't noticed. Sue would be jealous."
It's clearly a lie, since this kind of stuff fits Ben much better, but Johnny knows how to be both creative and dedicated. The fact that Peter doesn't own much makes things easier. He takes the opportunity to think back on the moments when Ben cooked with Herbie, regretting not paying closer attention. Still, no one could ever say Johnny isn't a quick learner. A simple Google search is all it takes for a bunch of easy recipes to start popping up.
"What's this?" Peter asks when he gets home some days later, a tired smile tugging at his lips as he spots the dessert on the small dining table.
"I believe it's called chocolate cake here too," Johnny quips, watching Peter drop his backpack in some random corner and accept the plate Johnny offers him.
The smile Peter gives him in return might warm Johnny more than his flames ever could.
The first time they have sex, it's Peter who initiates it. Not that the idea hadn't crossed Johnny's mind plenty of times. Honestly, it's safe to say he's been suffering through a serious case of blue balls, going to bed in sticky underwear after endless makeout sessions. Peter is slimmer than Johnny, but they're not so different physically, and Johnny has a strong feeling Peter has a soft spot for seeing him in his clothes.
This is when he discovers that Peter is a tactile person, and that his spider-senses include super touch receptivity. That is to say, Peter is very responsive, and he likes it when Johnny runs his fingers across his skin and through his hair, massaging the scalp lightly. What starts as a lazy makeout session on the couch turns into full-on grinding in no time, with Peter sitting on his lap, holding on tight and panting against Johnny's lips.
"Let's go to bed," Peter says, sounding both desperate and needy, and it doesn't take Johnny more than that to say yes.
It's fast. Sloppy. But so, so hot.
"God," Johnny gasps, because this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.
Clearly, this is Peter's first experience with another guy; whether it's sex or just being intimately involved with a man, so they don't go beyond exploring each other's naked bodies with their hands or lips. When Johnny wraps his hands around both of their erections and watches the way Peter closes his eyes and parts his lips in a silent moan, Johnny considers, for the first time, staying right there forever. Not on this planet or in this reality, but in that exact moment, where he can watch Peter get lost in pleasure, moan his name, and give him a goofy smile when they come almost at the same time. Johnny's hands are sticky with both of their come, and the sweat clinging to their skin has more to do with how closely they're pressed together than the summer heat, but Johnny never imagined a moment could be this perfect.
This is the start of a frenzied sex routine. Peter is good with his mouth and likes when Johnny goes down on him too. But it's when Johnny fucks him for the first time that Peter completely falls apart. It takes several moments for him to come back from the orgasm, and when he does, he looks at Johnny with so much devotion, so much affection, that Johnny has to look away, because suddenly it's hard to breathe.
It's hard to focus on those domestic moments in that crappy little apartment when the voice in his head keeps whispering that every moment might be the last. That it should be the last. There are people on the other side of reality waiting for him, people who depend on him and count on him.
Who waits for Peter here in this reality? The voice whispers again, and Johnny squeezes his eyes shut and pulls Peter closer.
"What are you thinking about?" Peter breaks the silence, his voice a whisper against Johnny’s neck.
"Hm?"
"You usually talk a lot," Peter says. "Is something wrong?"
Of course there is, Johnny wants to say. Can't you see? I'm thinking about how I'm supposed to go on with my life without you.
But obviously, he doesn't say any of that. As much as that honesty is the least Peter deserves, it just isn't worth saying out loud. It doesn't make it any less true just because it hangs silently in the air.
Johnny knows Peter's mind is haunted by the same thoughts. Maybe that's why, from time to time, Peter just stares into space with a blank expression, darkness surrounding him like a veil Johnny can't reach through. At least, not until he leans in and kisses the top of Peter's head. That's when Johnny realizes he's going to be the asshole responsible for yet another abandonment in Peter's life.
And he can't even explain why it hurts so fucking much when he already knew the outcome, except that maybe it's the look in Peter's eyes; it's the smile he gets when he's watching Johnny and doesn't think he's looking back, like Peter wants to commit the memory of him to heart, to take out at some point and keep it close.
"Nothing is wrong, sweetheart," Johnny lies, smiling.
Peter doesn't believe him, but he nods anyway, smiling back as he nuzzles into the crook of his neck. Johnny's hands move on their own, seeking the comfort of the closeness he's getting addicted to, holding on tight.
Peter kisses his jaw. "It'll be alright, Johnny. Whatever happens, it'll be okay," he says softly.
Johnny's throat tightens at the sound of the words, the sincerity in Peter's tone almost painful to hear. Not because he's trying to convince him of anything. It's just that Peter really, truly believes it. That no matter what, it'll be alright, and somehow that makes everything even worse.
Well, Johnny muses, it's not hard to figure out why Peter has that mentality. If you have experienced so much loss, you can only conclude that, one way or the other, things always manage to turn out alright.
Peter is stronger than Johnny in more ways than just physical. He has that resilience, that perseverance; that inner strength that drives him forward. Johnny believes in the same things Peter believes, but he's selfish and petty at times, so he thinks, it'll be okay for everyone but me, and the thought is like a dagger straight to the heart.
Johnny wonders when and how this sweet boy learned to put on a smile when everything around him seems so wrong.
"Hey, I was thinking," Johnny starts as Peter lies in his arms. "Tomorrow is Saturday. We should go out for some ice cream, maybe visit the park, take some pics with your new camera. What do you say?"
Peter smiles, and Johnny feels something melt inside him, soft and helpless, like his heart has turned to jelly.
"Are you asking me out on a date, Johnny? Because that's exactly what it sounds like."
"Maybe I am," Johnny says, returning the smile, then leans in to press a kiss to the tip of Peter's nose. "What do you say, Parker? Just don't get too jealous when every girl around starts staring at me. Happens all the time where I'm from."
"Oh?" Peter teases, tilting his head. "Let me guess. The word 'humility' isn't in your dictionary?"
"Nope." Johnny grins, then closes the distance between them and kisses him.
It happens after that perfect Saturday. A day so warm and golden it feels like it was plucked from a dream. After Peter watches Johnny light up for the first time, eyes wide with wonder, and the words flame on have more to do with the light in Peter's eyes than the fire wrapped around Johnny's body.
That's when it happens.
The pull returns, sudden and cruel. Johnny feels his body no longer his own, like invisible wires are yanking him away from the one place he finally felt peace. He tries to fight it, his mind repeating the same plea: no, no, no, no.
His last glimpse of Peter is a quiet one—curled against his side, tangled like an octopus, sleeping soundly.
His spider-sense hasn't warned him.
Johnny is being taken away silently, and not even the night makes a sound.
At some point, Johnny must have lost consciousness, because when he wakes up, he's lying on a stretcher in Reed's familiar lab. He tries to sit up quickly, and the movement draws Reed's attention. From his seat in front of a set of holograms, Reed reaches out and gently urges Johnny to lie back down.
"Reed," Johnny chokes out, and his voice cracks with the weight of it, "I need to go back there."
He's met with a confused stare. "What are you talking about, Johnny?"
"I need to get back, Reed, I need to go back! I have to— I—need to say goodbye. I can't leave him like that—"
"Johnny," Reed starts, then reaches out to squeeze Johnny's hand. "Johnny, what happened to you?"
It takes him a moment to remember; that's when it hits him again, a pang of heartbreak and loss and grief so sharp Johnny thinks he might die. He gasps, a wave of emotions making his eyes prickle and his throat burn, and it feels like all he has been through has suddenly been erased. As if all those days with Peter—and God, they had only been a handful, a blink in the universe's eyes—were just a dream, an illusion of his mind that will fade into the background noise of his life as the days pass by.
"I—" He tries to swallow around the tightness in his throat. "Please, can... can you send me back?"
For a long moment, Reed is silent, then he finally sighs.
"I'm sorry, Johnny." Reed says it softly. "It was my fault that you were stuck in that reality. A miscalculation that's costed you a lot."
"Why are you fucking talking as if I was in the hospital, Reed?!" Johnny yells, sitting up. "Like I had some sort of fucking accident and need time to recuperate?!"
"Johnny, you need to calm down. I know you're—"
"You know what, Reed? Fuck you!" Johnny snarls as he stands up and takes a deep breath.
He knows he's being an asshole. That he's acting immature and selfish, but fuck, if it doesn't help loosen the knot in his throat, at least a little.
On his way to his room, he passes Sue, who's reading a book with Franklin and Ben. He vaguely registers her voice, but he walks in a straight line toward the privacy of his quarters. It's only there, with the door shut behind him, that he lets go. He leans against it, and his knees finally give out, along with the sudden burst of energy he found just to yell at Reed. He's still wearing Peter's stupid Star Wars shirt.
And despite everything, he smiles.
"You're the friendly neighborhood guy, from what I hear," Johnny had said to Peter when he first saw him wearing the Darth Vader shirt. "And here you are, wearing the bad guy from the franchise."
"When you put it that way…" Peter had replied, smiling.
"Maybe you've got a thing for villains," Johnny had teased. "One of these days, I'll introduce you to a guy who visited us a few years ago. Galactus, devourer of worlds."
"The guy eats planets? Like, literally?!" Peter's eyes had gone wide. "Like they're cheeseburgers?!"
And Johnny had burst out laughing at that, even if it was a stupid comparison. The image of that giant being chowing down on a damn sandwich was way too ridiculous to escape Johnny's imagination.
It's with that memory—and a smile still on his lips—that he notices the tears running down his face.
He doesn't usually cry. Not because he thinks it's a sign of weakness, but simply because he tends to keep everything bottled up. The last time he remembers crying was when Sue briefly died. Compared to that, what is the end of a fleeting summer romance?
It's happened before. When Johnny was young and naive and thought he'd found the love of his life on a family vacation to the East Coast. This is just another heartbreak that time will wash away, slowly, with the ticking of the clock and the passing of days, blurring Peter more and more from Johnny's memory.
He knows this. But it doesn't feel that way right now, does it? Right now, it just feels like this pain will linger forever. And if Johnny focuses hard enough, he can almost see the broken pieces of his heart scattered on the floor.
How can he still be alive, then, if his heart is right there in front of him?
It's the soft knock on the door that pulls his gaze away from the imaginary pool of blood, away from the image of a crushed heart lying in pieces at his feet. The distinct sound of Ben's fists on the wood makes Johnny think about telling him to go to hell and refusing to open it. But maybe it's the fact that Ben is familiar with a certain kind of loneliness that changes his mind.
For all the admiration and love Ben gets from people, he also carries an empty void inside him that maybe no one will ever truly understand. Johnny can only begin to imagine.
When he opens the door, he sees Ben holding a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. Johnny wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and gratefully accepts Ben's silent comfort.
It's only when his mind is well and truly dulled by alcohol that Johnny speaks about Peter, letting himself cry again. And in a way, it feels like a release. Ben doesn't look at him with pity or sympathy, the way Sue probably would. Or maybe Johnny is just too drunk to notice. Either way, he's grateful for the ignorance.
"This kid, Peter Parker," Ben grumbles. "I wish I could meet him."
"Yeah," Johnny replies softly. "I'm sure you'd like him."
He has a sudden, sharp image of Peter and Ben sharing a meal. The image makes his chest swell with longing and an ache that leaves him breathless. A simple dinner, filled with people and conversation and warmth and affection and—
And now, Peter is probably having a meal alone in that shitty apartment. He has an image in his head of Peter looking at the window with that empty look on his face, and it feels like a blow straight to Johnny's chest, squeezing the air out of him.
It'll be alright, Peter had told him, with all the innocence and sincerity in the world. Whatever happens, it'll be okay, he had said.
"Hey," Ben calls. "What you're feelin' ain't nothing to be ashamed of. Okay? Just remember, kid. He's lucky to have known you, and you're lucky to have known him. Trust me."
"Yeah. Thanks, big guy."
After that day, life went on, and it felt like Johnny had returned from a long vacation. The same things happened, just with no Peter. The world kept needing them, and Johnny kept running towards the fight along with his family.
And just as he had predicted, memories of Peter were blurry in a matter of months, as if a layer of white had been spread on top of everything. But this layer felt warm, soft, like the embrace of the man that now only exists in his dreams.
He isn't even aware that this blur meant something else entirely when Sue comes up to his room one day and watches him with a curious, but somehow sad, expression.
"Johnny? I— Can I talk to you about something?" she asks as she enters the room.
"Of course. What is it?" Johnny asks, turning his attention away from the designs for a new uniform he's working on. He hasn't decided on the final version yet, so it's just a bunch of different sketches spread across the bed and the floor, a couple of them already crumpled.
"Johnny, are you happy?" Sue asks and sits down at the edge of the bed.
The question comes out of left field and it throws Johnny off guard, making him pause for a moment.
"Of course I'm happy," Johnny says with a smile. "What kind of question is that?"
"It's a simple question, and as your sister, I think I deserve an honest answer." Her voice is gentle, but somehow the softness feels more unsettling than comforting.
"I honestly don't know what you want me to say, Sue."
"Your mind is still in 616, isn't it?" she asks. Her tone isn't accusatory or suspicious, just certain.
For a moment, Johnny thinks about lying, but in the end, he can only nod.
"It won't stay that way forever," he says. "Don't worry. It hasn't affected how I perform in the field, and I don't intend to let that happen."
"I know," Sue says, and her smile is small but sad. "If anything, you've been even more focused than Reed lately, and honestly, that's a little terrifying."
Johnny lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head.
"There's no way I'm letting the old man outdo me," he says, and for a second, they share a real smile.
A quiet pause settles between them until he feels her gently touch his arm.
"If you had the chance," she asks, "would you stay there forever?"
"No." The word leaves him immediately, without hesitation. It's the truth. "But I won't lie. It would be nice to see him one more time."
"Wouldn't that hurt more than it helps?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe," Johnny murmurs. "But pretending I don't miss him hurts too."
He looks down, returning to the sketches in front of him, and quietly adds a few more lines to the helmet. He swallows thickly and ignores the dull, constant ache in his chest, then takes a deep breath.
"But that's okay. Because it'll pass."
After a moment, Sue speaks again.
"Long-distance relationships," she says. "What do you think about them?"
"They suck," Johnny answers with no hesitation. "Or, I used to believe they suck. Yet, here I am, right? In a relationship that doesn't even exist, that technically never existed. And here I am, thinking about it every damn day, so who's really right? Me or past me?" He snorts at the last part and shakes his head. "I think this whole thing just goes to show that you don't choose who you love. Here I am, in love with a guy from literally a whole universe away from me, and that's my reality."
He turns to Sue and offers her a smile. "You think I'm being dramatic."
"You're Johnny Storm, of course you're dramatic. Believe it or not, I'm happy that you finally found someone to love and be loved by in return," Sue replies as she squeezes his arm lightly.
"Well, yeah, it ended pretty fucking tragic, didn't it?" he says with a sarcastic grin.
Instead of answering, she grabs his hand and holds it tight.
"Come with me," she says as she gets to her feet, not letting go of his hand.
He's tempted to ignore it and just say he needs to get back to work, but he lets her guide him to Reed's lab, which is a complete mess. Reed's usually impeccable hair is a wreck, and it looks like the last time he slept was a month ago. A small army of coffee mugs stands sentry across every available surface and Franklin is sitting on a stool nearby, swinging his legs absentmindedly.
Johnny accesses the scene suspiciously, already preparing to ask what new threat they'll have to face, when Reed turns and flashes him a grin. It's equal parts brilliant and terrifying.
He's holding something that looks suspiciously like something out of a Ben 10 cartoon (thanks for that mental image, Peter), if Ben 10's gear had been designed by a sleep-deprived mad scientist. When Johnny doesn't react, Reed shakes it slightly, as if that should somehow make things clearer. Johnny's frown only deepens.
"Daddy built a watch that works as an interdimensional portal for you to travel through, Uncle Johnny," Franklin says helpfully. "He said it would make you stop looking like a walking zombie who's either about to have a mental breakdown or go on a psychotic rampage."
"I absolutely did not phrase it like that," Reed protests, rubbing his temples.
Johnny's arms cross over his chest as he takes in Reed's disheveled appearance. "Pot, meet kettle. Tell me he's joking, Richards."
"After what happened last time... I couldn't risk another uncontrolled jump." Reed replies. "You were lucky not to be completely disintegrated. And even though I was able to bring you back, there's not enough energy in any single machine or artifact to consistently transfer matter between realities. Which means my attempts over the past few months haven't worked."
"Wait. You've been working on this for months?" Johnny tries to hold back the emotion in his voice, but it's hard not to when he pictures Reed pushing himself to the edge, exhausting every possibility just to chase after a selfish desire Johnny couldn't let go of. "Reed—"
Reed looks up at him then, and the tired smile on his face makes Johnny feel a deep ache inside him.
"This," he says as he holds out the device in his hand, "will ensure you can travel safely between our worlds, without the fear of getting lost in the fabric of the multiverse or simply disintegrated. The energy necessary is absorbed by the wearer of this bracelet, then converted to matter through the same process that teleports us from one location to another. In short, I hadn't found the energy source before, until..."
"Me." Franklin adds proudly.
"So, you used you own son as the power source for a device you know absolutely nothing about," Johnny replies, raising an eyebrow. "Reed, are you out of your mind?!"
"It was completely safe, and I wouldn't do this without Sue's approval. She's known about my attempts since the beginning. I didn't want you to get your hopes up and be disappointed." Reed places the device on a nearby desk, then pulls up a few holos with the specs and the process they used to make it. "There are a numbered set of trips that this bracelet can power. If the power runs out, you're stuck there forever. But it shows you how many chances you'll have, just in case."
"Twenty," Johnny says softly. He swallows down the emotions building inside his chest and blinks a couple of times, looking down to his shoes.
"Yes. You have twenty jumps," Reed replies with a smile. "It means ten from our universe to his, and vice versa. It can he recharged when the energy is depleted, but the process takes time, and for now, I'd like not to take risks with you and with the energy of Franklin."
"Can... can this device support another person?" Johnny asks.
"You're suggesting bringing Parker here," Reed says.
"No, I—I just—" Johnny rubs his temple and takes a deep breath. "Nevermind. Forget it."
Reed approaches him slowly, his hand on Johnny's shoulder as he gently squeezes it.
"If I'm honest with myself," Reed starts, his tone soft, "I understand the pain of longing for the touch of another, or for their smile. I wouldn't risk more than one trip together. So yes, he's welcome here."
"I'd kiss you on the fucking lips right now if Sue wasn't watching," Johnny blurts out, which draws a laugh from Reed.
"Yeah, I bet. Now," Reed says as he grabs the bracelet from the table and offers it to him, "go get him. And make the most of it."
The last part comes with a smile. Johnny just nods and returns it. He puts the device on and looks at his sister with a smile. He says goodbye to Ben and Franklin before teleporting away.
And that's how his journey begins. One which every second counts. Every heartbeat through the streets of Queens, taking in this universe where there are others like Peter. People who save the world but go home at night to fight demons no one else can see. It's a world of bright colors, wild tech, and stubborn hope. But it's also heavy with hatred, full of danger, and soaked in pain.
Just another world, he thinks.
Johnny never truly expected Peter to be waiting for him. And a part of him knows he wasn't. Peter had made peace with the end, just like Johnny had.
But Johnny has the kind of family that reminds him it's okay to be selfish sometimes. That wanting more, wanting happiness, doesn't make you weak. It just makes you human.
"Miss me?" Johnny asks the second Peter opens the door, toothbrush still in his mouth.
He watches as the shock fades from Peter's face, along with that quiet fear that this might not be real.
Their kiss is anything but graceful; all clumsy hands and toothpaste freshness and the salt of unexpected tears. Peter's lips are chapped from winter air, familiar yet new, and for the first time in months, Johnny feels his lungs expand fully, the crushing weight lifted. Oxygen has never tasted so sweet.
They don't waste a single second, taking everything the world offers them in that moment, and as soon as Peter drags him inside his apartment, he pins him to the wall. The air leaves his lungs at the impact and he closes his eyes for a moment to enjoy the feel of Peter's body pressing against him.
When he opens his eyes, his heart clenches at the look on Peter's face, all tenderness and awe and hope. "I... I thought you'd—"
Johnny silences Peter's words with another kiss, wrapping his arms around him. "I thought so too."
It doesn't matter that it's probably not enough, because Peter smiles, a blinding thing, and the way he says "You're here" feels like a miracle.
"I'm here," he echoes, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
He's here. He's actually here. In this crappy apartment with a bathroom that barely fits one person, and in front of a guy he's met on an accidental trip to another universe.
But the thing is, he wouldn't change it for anything.
As for Peter, well—he's probably thinking the exact same thing, which is why Johnny says, "You know you've got toothpaste all over your face, right?"
Peter's mouth twitches. "Oh yeah?"
"Mm, and in your hair too."
"You're making fun of me. You're—"
"Shut up," Johnny interrupts him. "It just means someone's gotta clean it up, and lucky for you, I've been told I'm an excellent cleaner. So..."
So Johnny takes Peter to the tiny bathroom and takes his time washing the toothpaste away from Peter's face, and with every brush of his hand over his cheeks and jaw, Johnny wordlessly promises, I won't let you be alone anymore.
Loneliness is a distant memory, he thinks, when they kiss again and Peter whispers a broken, desperate "I missed you," against his lips.
He feels his throat close up, but he says, "I know. Me too," and they're words that mean nothing in the face of their circumstances, but at this moment, they're enough.
"How long?" Peter asks. "How long do I have you for this time?"
"As long as you need me," he says softly.
"Forever? Is forever an option?" Peter jokes.
"If you want it to be." He offers a soft smile. "Twenty times we can be together in one reality."
"Sounds like forever to me," Peter says. His tone is playful, but his eyes are shining.
"Yeah. Yeah, it does." Johnny smiles and kisses him again, softly this time, then says, "So what do you say, Parker? Let me stay for a little while."
Peter smiles a small little thing and nods, his hand warm where he touches Johnny's arm.
"I'd like that."