I will never understand you, Peter Parker.

But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

The day after getting ice cream with Peter, Johnny comes back from his chemistry class to a crumpled stack of papers webbed to his window. There's a note stuck on the outside.

NYPD finally put the warehouse investigation in their system! It looks like the chameleon has some ties to gangs in Hell's Kitchen, too. I'm looking into some of them, but I don't want to go into Devil territory by myself. If you're not busy, can you—

Apparently, it hadn't occurred to Spider-Man to stick it so Johnny could see it from inside his apartment or to try and protect his message from the elements. The downpour from yesterday had eased up slightly, but the clouds were still heavy, dripping water at random. The latest shower has ink bleeding down the entire note, but the edges are the only parts that are completely illegible. Go figure.

He yanks on the rest of the webbing. If he can read through the rest of the information Spidey left, maybe he could find at least a hint. Hopefully, one that pushes out Spider-Man's request until after movie night, so he can ask about it in person.

Nada. It's like it welded to the window. Is he supposed to wait here until the webbing dissolves? What if it rains again? He gives the webs another tug. They don't even stretch.

"Need some help?" Peter's poking his head out the window, his whole face scrunched up like he's trying desperately not to laugh.

It's like the whole fire escape brightens the second Peter pulls himself through the window. Johnny grins. "You're home early."

"My last class got canceled. Apparently, someone released mutated bats into the lecture hall?" Peter shrugs. "It was taken care of by the time I got there, but there's bat shit everywhere, so they need time to clean."

Johnny snorts. "Ah, New York. Every time I think nothing else about this city can surprise me, it comes up with something new."

"What a batshit story, huh." Peter's grinning now, too, fighting hysterics at his own terrible joke.

"You're not funny," Johnny complains. He's laughing anyway.

Peter's just so damn strange. It's like the whole world is just a beat too slow for him, or Peter exists just a little too fast, but it always leaves Johnny reeling to catch up.

He's brilliant, for sure, but not like Reed, and not like any of the other scientists in the Baxter Building, because Peter isn't just quick. He's witty, and quick on his toes, even if he's only funny when he's not trying to be, and he has a spark in him that Johnny can't just attribute to 'genius' because it affects everything around him.

It makes Johnny feel like he sees things a little clearer too.

Peter presses a hand to his mouth, muting the last of his giggles. "Anyway, you seem like you're having some trouble over there."

"What the hell are these things even made of?" Johnny gives another futile tug at the webs.

Peter shakes his head. "Give me a second, I'll get them off for you."

He disappears back through his window, footsteps echoing out into the cityscape. Drawers rattle open and shut. Something slams into the ground Johnny will bet good money is Peter himself. Klutz.

"Okay!" Peter pokes his head back through the window. He's brandishing a steak knife in his other hand. "I'll cut them off."

"Peter, I don't think you're going to be able to saw through this stuff."

Peter points the knife at him. "I didn't ask for feedback. Just trust me."

Johnny settles back against the railing, watching Peter shuffle across the fire escape on his knees until he reaches Johnny's window. He lodges the knife between the window and the very edge of the webs.

Snap! Papers come sprawling out from the bundle as the side of the web goes limp. Peter grins triumphantly, snagging some of the papers before they can go tumbling over the edge.

"Ta-da!"

Johnny tugs the stack out of Peter's arms. "That should not have worked."

"Maybe you just need to start lifting weights, buddy."

The papers are smudged, and soggy at the edges, but not completely ruined like the note. Circled, in bright red ink, right at the top of the page, is a forensics report.

The DNA on the Spider-Man mask doesn't match Oliver's mom.

It should make things worse; that means there's someone else out there that the Chameleon targeted, someone the police might not even know about. Johnny's heart is a little lighter anyway.

If they get the jump on these gangs in Hell's Kitchen, they might not even have too much time before they find her.

Speaking of which: "Peter, how do you talk to Spider-Man?"

Peter startles, eyes darting away from Johnny like he's been burned. "Why?"

He waves the soggy note at Peter. "He asked me something at the end of this, but I can't read it." Peter plucks the note from his hand with a frown. "If I have to write my question across the whole sky, it kind of ruins the element of surprise. Please, Peter?"

Peter tilts his head, looking Johnny directly in the eyes again. It's a little unnerving, even with the sun breaking through the clouds, bright enough the make his eyes look golden. "What makes you so sure I have a way to talk to him? I feel like we've established that I'm not close with Spider-Man the way you think that I am."

"You never actually established anything," Johnny points out. "But I'm kind of used to that, between the two of you. Besides, you gave yourself away right when I asked. If you didn't talk to him, you would've shut this conversation down from the start."

Peter smiles wryly. "Freudian slip, I guess." He hands the note back to Johnny. "I can try to talk to him, I guess."

Johnny lunges forward, tackling Peter in a hug. "Thank you, thank you!"

"You're squeezing me a little bit, Hot Stuff."

Johnny jumps backward, embarrassment flaring at the edge of his cheeks. "Sorry!"

Peter adjusts the frame of his glasses, wheels visibly turning in his head. "This is... actually important to you, huh?"

"Well, yeah." Johnny curls his arms around his chest. "I've never actually worked on anything with Spidey before. I don't want to let him down, you know?"

There's an odd look on Peter's face while he processes Johnny's response. His whole face sort of melts, a fond smile tugging at his cheeks.

This time, it's Peter's turn to wrap Johnny in his arms. "You won't. I promise."

And maybe this is weird to Peter, because his whole body is tense in Johnny's arms, but he does it anyway, his chin hooked over Johnny's shoulder, arms wrapped under Johnny's armpits.

He seems content enough. Maybe Peter only gets touchy with a few people. Johnny's heart flutters at the thought.

It's too short. Peter steps back, waving goodbye before jumping back into his apartment to get ready for work. Johnny's whole body feels fuzzy. Sometimes being around Peter is just nice like that. He slips back through his own window, snapping the lock shut behind him.

He only gets a few problems into his chemistry homework before he hears a thud against his window. His head shoots up.

Saturday! Ten o'clock!
-Spidey

Johnny snorts. 'I can try to talk to him' his ass. With that response, Peter must have the guy on speed-dial.

It's a little embarrassing, how much that thought hurts his feelings. He really does need to get out more, if the thought of his friends being friends makes him so jealous.

Besides, Peter's not the one taking down supervillains with the guy. That's a privilege that's Johnny's, and Johnny's alone.