Spider-Man Imagines I

There's Only Ever Been You | Peter Parker [TM]

There were some days when you thought that your goofball of a best friend, Peter Parker, was in love with you.

There were some moments you couldn't explain, like the way his eyes would twinkle when you would pose in front of his camera or how he would stutter when complimenting your intelligence or looks. He was always kind, always trying to make you laugh.

And that made you wonder if he loved you just as much as you loved him.

In your senior year of high school, you and Peter had officially been friends for four and a half years. You had grown so used to each other that you sometimes felt like you were joined at the hip, never going to leave the other.

But that all changed when Peter started acting weird.

At first, it was just him coming to school with no glasses and well defined muscles under his sweaters. It confused you, but you assumed he was just starting to take care of himself.

Then he started having around MJ, and the more he did so, the less he hung around you. You would show up to Aunt May and Uncle Ben's house for the weekly study night you typically had with Peter and learn that he was off with other friends.

When you'd call Harry and ask what Peter and him were doing, he'd tell you that he wasn't with Peter.

The dread filled your stomach and you felt a little sick. "Oh," you'd said the first time, "he must be with MJ, huh?"

"I honestly don't know," Harry would say, voice sympathetic. "They were hanging out after Biology today, so maybe. Sorry, ___."

"No, it's fine," you lied. "I'll... just head home and get started on that huge project due in Chem next week."

"I thought you'd finished it already?"

"I need to tie up some loose ends. Bye Harry-"

And you'd hang up, tell the same story to May, and then leave, half expecting a voicemail from Peter to be on your answering machine.

There never was.

...

When Uncle Ben passed away, you arrived at his funeral fully ready to face Peter with a soft, forgiving heart. You had no room in your soul for reproach. There was no reason to be hateful to a boy you loved, one that had already lost so much in his life.

He was standing next to May, his hands holding onto her frail arm, his head bowed and cheeks dripping with tears.

You approached them slowly, clutching a damp tissue in your fist. With your free hand, you touched Peter's shoulder, bringing his attention to you.

"Oh, Peter," you whispered, shaking your head. "I'm so sorry."

He nodded, a quick movement before looking away. You stood in front of May, embracing her and touching your lips to her wrinkled cheek. She smiled through her tears and cupped your face.

Turning back to Peter, he wrapped an arm around you, his forehead leaning against your own, his breath warm in your face. You clutched the front of his suit, closing your eyes and pushing yourself close.

"I'm glad you're here," he said softly.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

"I will be."

You nodded, pulling back and squeezing his shoulder. You looked at Aunt May and she dropped Peter's arm, slowly edging her way to the car parked at the end of the street.

"Let me come over," you said to Peter, "and I'll cook for you guys and clean. I know you both must be exhausted-"

"That would be nice," Aunt May said, at the same time Peter interrupted with-