Multi-fandom Oneshots

Marshmallows Roasting On An Open Burner {Peter Parker}

You cross your arms, letting your head rest on your chin as you stare at his door. You bite your lip contemplatively, noticing the small light shining out from under it.

Peter Parker was his name. He had recently moved into the apartment down the hall from yours. He was cute. And mysterious. You knew almost nothing about him. And that's why you had started to befriend him. He also looked quiet and lonely and you knew what it felt like to feel like that. He was kind but seemed to always keep you at a distance.

You had begun to notice over time that he seemed to keep strange hours. You yourself were a night owl and more awake during the night than you were during the day. So you had definitely noticed Peter's light on for multiple hours during the night.

Why you were questioning knocking on his door tonight? Well, it was Christmas Eve, now probably Christmas morning and Peter was awake. And seemingly alone. No one should be alone on Christmas.

Maybe he wasn't even awake, you thought nervously. You wouldn't want to wake him if he was actually asleep. You eyed his doorknob. Perhaps if his door was locked, he was asleep. If it was open..? You'd figure that out later.

You carefully step up to the door with chipped paint and small cracks encasing the entire frame. You take a deep breath in, gathering your courage and suffocating your nerves. You grab hold of the doorknob and you begin to turn. To your horror, the knob continues to move and you don't quite know how to stop as shock encompasses your entire being. 

The door clicks open and your hand immediately jerks away from it. But with the building being as old as it is, the door creaks open loudly. And there you are painted with the picture of Peter Parker in his pajamas, half turned to face you and the door, a wide-eyed expression covering his features.

You see him standing near the stove, a kettle resting on the burner. His pajama covered body was half-turned to face the doorway and he looked as frozen in shock as you were. You noticed the lack of holiday decorations, or any decorations for that matter. The apartment felt as it always had. Sad. Your eyes train back on him and his unmoving form.

"Oh, hi Peter," you greet as if you've just run into each other on the street and not after you practically broke into his apartment. He continues to not move or blink. Just stare at you.

"Hi," he responds, his hand still holding onto the kettle. You look at the door, chuckling a bit as you wrap your arms around yourself.

"You should really start locking your door. Don't want any strangers randomly popping in," you try and joke, meeting his eye once again. He still wasn't moving an inch.

"Noted," he responds with a nod. And for the next few moments, a few long moments, perhaps the fewest longest moments of your life, you and Peter stare at each other. No one is moving or saying anything. "Is there something I can do for you?" He finally asks, moving his body to face you entirely as he raises an eyebrow. Your eyes widened for a moment as you realized you probably look like a creep.

"Oh! Right. Well, I just saw your light on under the door and thought maybe you'd want a little company? I mean, it is Christmas," you offer nervously, looking at the doorway briefly before making direct eye contact. Peter leans back against the sink.

"Sure, I mean, why not. Come on in," he offers, motioning his hand towards you before returning it to his side. Your face brightens considerably as you smile. You cannot explain the relief you feel at the fact that he didn't turn you away. Or look at you like you were a creep. Or call the cops.

"Cool! Thanks," you say as you breathe out, promptly walking through the door. You swiftly turn around, moving to close the door behind you. When you face Peter again, he's already turned back to the stove. It wasn't on so you assumed he hadn't put any water in yet.