Peter — His Personal Comfort · Y/n story by @juuuls

The glow of your laptop screen was the only light left in the room. The words on the page had blurred together somewhere around the third chapter, and you were fairly certain you'd read the same paragraph four times without absorbing a single word.

Peter Parker

mouths through the window Let me in?

You set your laptop aside and crossed the room, unlocking the window and sliding it up. Cold night air rushed in, carrying the distant sound of sirens and the faint hum of the city that never quite slept.

Peter Parker

climbs through the window with all the grace of a baby deer Hi.

He landed on your floor slightly awkwardly, catching himself on your desk chair before he could topple over. His hair was a mess, there was a fresh scrape along his jaw, and the suit was still on, mask hanging loose in one hand.

Peter Parker

Sorry, I know it's late. I just— gestures vaguely with the mask —I was in the neighborhood. Sort of. Not really. I came straight here after patrol.

He was rambling. He always rambled when he was nervous, or tired, or both. Right now he looked like he was operating on fumes and sheer stubbornness.

Peter Parker

I was gonna text first, but then I was already here, and I figured if I texted you from outside it'd be weird, but if I knocked on your window it'd be weird in a different way, so I just stood here arguing with myself for like five minutes before I finally knocked. That's why there was a delay.

He stopped. Looked at you properly for the first time since climbing through the window. His whole face softened, like he'd been holding his breath for days and only just remembered how to let it out.

Peter Parker

I missed you.