Chapter Text
“Can I get you anything aside from coffee, honey?”
The sweet, older server stood with her hand on her hip, her eyes casting down on Peter with what he thought was pity. She had a sweet face, Peter thought, one that would like to sit down and hear everyone’s problems so she can help fix them.
Peter shook his head and smiled gently at the server. “Not yet, thank you, though.”
She smiled softly and poured some more coffee into his mug. “It’s a little late for coffee, don’t you think?” she said with mirth in her voice.
“Well, I’m not normal.” Peter laughed nervously. He took a sip of the coffee, which was that strong, slightly bitter flavor that he always loved from Jim’s Diner.
She smiled again. “So, what time are they going to meet you?” She asked gently.
Peter swallowed. “Eight. I’m actually twenty minutes early. I wanted to get a table, you know?”
He watched the server cast her eyes over the diner, and he knew she was noticing that there were only three other patrons in the restaurant. Not exactly busy, but she didn’t push the issue. Instead she smiled and gently tapped a hand on his. “Okay honey, let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you,” Peter said.
After she left the table, Peter’s eyes went to his coffee mug. He was beginning to feel a little jittery from the caffeine—he’d already had three cups—but he was so anxious that he couldn’t help himself.
It had been exactly a week since he showed up on Prem’s balcony, and it had been the longest week of Peter’s life. While he managed to get to work and school, he found it hard to concentrate on anything aside from what he’d said on the balcony. He frequently wondered if he should have said something different or done something else aside from pop up at the man’s home. He could barely sleep through the week, spending most of his time out on the streets as Spider-Man, but even the criminals of New York City seemed to have taken a break through the week. So, he spent a lot of time alone with his thoughts, wondering if he’d screwed everything up so badly past redemption.
At least three times last week, he went to visit Gwen’s grave. He spent an hour each time he went, just talking with her, thinking of memories, realizing just how much time has passed between her death and now. He would trace his fingers over the letters of her name on the tombstone, wondering how different life would be if she were there, if she hadn’t died. It was hard to imagine, though, as it had been so long, and her death felt so final. He asked her forgiveness for what happened, and for her permission to move on.
Time moved so slow through the week, and it moved slower now.
Peter looked up at the clock near the bathrooms, noticing the time. Ten after eight. He swallowed hard.
He expected Prem to not show. How could he after everything Peter did? After he lied and broke his heart? Peter was more than prepared to leave the diner disappointed, knowing that he deserved it for what he’d done. Nevertheless, seeing the time passing on the clock, and realizing Prem would probably not show, was a cruel reminder of how badly he’d messed up.
A few patrons got up from their booth a few away from him. It was an older couple, probably in their seventies. They put on their coats and began walking arm-in-arm towards the exit. Peter watched them, feeling a tinge of longing and sadness.
What had he done?
He looked back at the clock again. Twenty after eight. He looked out the windows of the diner, desperate to see Prem walking up, but the streets were mostly empty, and none of the people passing by were Prem.
Peter looked back to his nearly empty coffee mug. Tears began to form at the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. He squeezed his eyes shut, thankful that the diner was mostly empty so nobody would see him cry aside from the nice server.
A few tears slipped down his cheeks. Prem wasn’t going to come. It was over.
“Honey, can I get you anything now?”
The sweet server was over him again with a pitcher of coffee. Peter wiped away his tears, but he knew she must have saw. “No, just the check please.”
She smiled sadly. “Okay honey. I’ll box up a slice of pie for you to go, on the house. Okay?”
Peter smiled tersely and nodded, and she filled up his mug one last time. At least he would have some pie to enjoy at his apartment while he cried alone.
She left the table, leaving him alone again. He didn’t wipe away the new tears that fell, a couple falling into his coffee below, but he didn’t care.
Maybe he was meant to be the tortured Peter Parker, the one that can’t catch a break, the one that screws up everything in his life.
“Shit, Peter,” he muttered to himself, “You’re pathetic.”
“I agree.”
Peter jumped in his booth, falling backwards against the back of it, his arms sprawled on either side of himself. He blinked up at the head of the table, his mouth agape.
Prem was there, wearing a long black trench coat with a beige scarf. He ran his fingers through his mess of waves as he smiled down at Peter.
He got a feeling a déjà vu then, thinking of the first time they interacted in the bathroom of the Black Rose, of all places. Peter drunk out of his mind, scared shitless by a lurking Prem. But this time, instead of mumbling drunkenly, a disbelieving smile broke out on Peter’s face.
“Sorry I’m late.” Prem said smugly, clearly happy to have scared the daylights out of Peter. He began taking off his trench coat. “Do you know there are actually two other Jim’s Diner’s in the city? You should be more specific the next time you swing onto someone’s balcony and throw out date info.”
Peter was so stunned that he couldn’t speak, but to his surprise, he started to laugh. Peter sat back up, smiling and laughing despite the tears falling down his face. He didn’t even know what to say, but he couldn’t stop laughing.
Prem sat into the booth across from Peter and pulled a tissue from one of his pockets. He reached out with it, and Peter was about to grab it, but instead Prem began wiping the tears away from Peter’s face himself, his hand gentle.
“I looked up the location of Jim’s Diner only to see there were three, and I didn’t have your number anymore because I deleted it in a heartbroken rage.” Prem said, his voice gentle and soft, “So you know what I did?”
Peter let out a shuddering, laughing sigh and shook his head.
“I mapped out each one, figured out how to hit them within an hour span.” Prem continued. “Even did a few test runs through the week to make sure I could do it. I even timed myself with my old stopwatch back when I was a marathoner. Can you believe this was the last one I chose? And of course I had to hit construction on Broadway on my way here. Can you believe it, huh? Only in New York.”
Peter thought of Prem desperately running between the three locations in New York City, checking his stopwatch and timing his intervals. He imagined him wearing running shorts and a t-shirt—black, of course—and sweat dripping down his face, finding a pace so he could hit all three diners. Just so he could meet Peter on time.
He did it for Peter.
Peter couldn’t stop laughing breathlessly, tears still falling down his face. Prem was kind enough to keep wiping them away, not saying a word, a soft smile on his face.
Peter smiled back at him. He knew he must be a mess, crying and laughing and jittery from caffeine, but he didn’t care.
Prem wiped the tissue a few more times over Peter’s cheek before balling it into his hand, then gently began caressing his thumb over Peter’s cheek bone, his fingers curling to the back of Peter’s head and settling in his hair. Peter gazed back at him in disbelief. The touch felt comforting and supportive, like a warm, gentle embrace that he so desperately needed in the last few weeks.
After what felt like moments between the two of them, with Peter crying and laughing and Prem just simply caressing his face, Peter was able to find the words to speak, “You’re here.”
Prem smiled gently. “I am.”
Peter let out another breathless laugh, covering his own hand over Prem’s on his cheek, the other man’s hand warm beneath his own. He couldn’t believe it. Prem was here.
The server suddenly appeared, catching Peter by surprise. He was so shocked that Prem had showed up that he nearly forgot himself. Only moment ago he was practically crying to the server, but now he couldn’t be more elated.
“What can I get you boys tonight?” She asked, winking at Peter with a knowing smile.
Peter was too wound up to eat, but he ordered a small stack of pancakes nonetheless. Prem ordered the same along with some decaf, and the server squeezed Peter’s arm gently before walking away. Peter smiled at her departing form.
Prem reached across the table to take Peter’s hand. “So…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper, “Spider-Man, huh?”
Peter bit his bottom lip and nodded, feeling more than a little sheepish.
A smile broke out on Prem’s lips. “That’s kind of hot.”
Any tension that had been between the two was easily forgotten through the next hour. Peter and Prem talked about the last few weeks—what they did, how heartbroken they were, how they passed the time—over their pancakes. They discussed even more, like their families, their school experiences, and anything else they’d experienced while living in New York City. Peter even opened up about Gwen and her death, which Prem listened too with the utmost attention, his eyes sympathetic. Peter realized how good it felt to not only have someone as a partner again, but someone who he could tell anything to, and not hide himself. Eventually the nice server did bring out a slice of pie for them to split—on the house, as she originally promised.
“So, I do have a random question for you.” Peter said as he took another bite of the shared pie.
“Okay, shoot.” Prem replied.
“I bumped into Marissa at a bodega…”
Prem rolled his eyes and he cleaned his fork in his mouth, “Ah, yep, I heard all about that encounter from her.”
“She called you something other than Prem,” Peter started carefully.
Prem nodded. “MJ.”
“MJ.” Peter repeated. “So, why MJ, where does that come from?”
Prem smiled. “I will only tell you on one condition. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“If I tell you, you gotta tell me why you freaked the hell out when she mentioned it. Deal?”
Peter shifted nervously in his seat, but nodded. “Deal.”
“So, MJ is a nickname I got when I was a kid, like four years old. My middle name is Jahi, and my parents always just called me Prem Jahi, but my sister couldn’t pronounce it since she was just two, all she could say was ‘Em Jay’, so it just stuck. My friends and family call me MJ, but I go by Prem in a professional setting, and with most people I don’t really know.” His eyes met Peter’s. “I was gonna tell you to call me MJ before things ended between us.”
Peter smiled sadly, “Well, I’m honored to get to call you MJ now.”
“So now it’s your end of the deal.” MJ said, taking another bite from the pie. “You gotta tell me why you freaked out.”
Peter laughed nervously, leaning back in his seat and fidgeting with his hands. “God, it’s nuts. I’m not sure if you’ll even believe me.”
“I just learned you were Spider-Man, I think I can believe everything.” MJ said, grinning.
“Okay, well. How much time to do you got?”
MJ leaned closer to Peter over the table, a knowing smile on his lips. “All night.”
“…And then the wizard used his magic to send you back here?”
“Yep.” Peter replied.
“And you fell into the Hudson.”
“Yep.”
“Huh.” MJ said, pressing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. “That’s…a lot.”
Peter smiled contritely. “I know, I don’t think anyone would believe me. I mean, another world parallel to ours?”
They strolled together along the sidewalk of their neighborhood. The night air was crisp, and Peter could see his breath as he spoke.
MJ grinned. “And there was another MJ.”
“Yeah…” Peter said softly. He stopped walking, prompting MJ to stop as well and turn to him. “I know it sounds crazy, but I decided I wasn’t going to hide anything from you. You deserve the truth, even if it’s hard to believe.”
MJ’s smile was genuine. He reached out to Peter, wrapping a gentle hand around his arm and pulling him close. “I believe you, Peter.”
“You do?” Peter asked, pressed up against MJ’s body and looking up at the other man.
MJ nodded, then he looked down slightly. “And I want to be honest with you too. I was really, really upset when you broke up with me, and I almost didn’t meet you here tonight.”
Peter felt his heart sink at that, but MJ pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around his lower back.
“But I thought about what you said, and what you’ve gone through, and why you did what you did. It makes sense, but Peter, it still hurt, and I don’t want to go through that again.” MJ’s eyes were serious. “If anything like that happens again, I want you to talk to me, okay? Don’t make a rash decision, don’t close yourself off, talk to me.”
Peter swallowed and nodded. “I will. I’m so sorry, MJ.”
MJ slid a large, warm hand up to Peter’s neck, gently cupping the back of Peter’s head in a comforting, intimate gesture. “I know. I trust you, Peter.”
MJ’s face was so close that his breath danced over Peter’s skin. Peter watched as MJ’s face grew nearer, his head tilting slightly, and pressed his lips to Peter’s.
The kiss was soft at first, MJ gently pressing his lips to Peter’s, until Peter deepened it by parting his lips, moving them slowly against the other man’s. MJ responded instantly, moving his lips and brushing his tongue over Peter’s. Peter melted into MJ’s body, his hands moving up to cup MJ’s neck, MJ’s arms tightening around his waist.
The kiss felt like more than they’d experienced before, more than the kisses they shared in the alleyway or in MJ’s bedroom. This kiss felt more honest, like a promise. Peter had shared his heart, and now he was sealing his fate. He wanted to pursue a life with MJ, with his MJ, and was willing to put his heart on the line again.
And when they broke apart, Peter’s lips still tingling from the kiss, he opened his eyes to look into MJ’s, seeing everything he wanted and needed in them. He knew he was ready to try again for him.
They separated, and MJ reached down to grasp Peter’s hand. “Alright, let’s go, they’re going to lose their minds when they see you.”
Peter smiled and nodded, following MJ to their destination.
It was ten thirty when the door of the Black Rose swung open with Peter and MJ entering after their date.
“Oh, holy shit.” Mack exclaimed, jumping from his seat and knocking hard against the table, enough to slosh beer out of a few mugs. “Peter, you’re not dead!”
Peter laughed as he hugged Mack, then Gale, Jonathan, Reece, and Conner. “Sorry to scare you, there was some pretty…uh…weird stuff going on.”
“That’s okay, it’s time for a drink!” Mack yelled joyfully and clearly already a little drunk.
“No, seriously Mack,” Peter started, “I ghosted you, and it wasn’t cool. I’m really sorry.”
Mack shook his head. “Whatever it is, it can wait for tonight. I’m just glad you’re okay, man. Now, get a drink!”
Marissa arrived at the table, and she sent Peter and MJ a knowing smile. “What can I start you lovebirds with?” She asked.
They gave their order, which she took, before motioning for Peter to step away with her for a moment.
Peter followed her, leaning close as she whispered to him. “I’m happy to see you worked things out, but you better not hurt him again.”
Peter smiled gently at her. “I don’t plan on it, you have my word.”
She smiled genuinely at Peter. “Good. Now go back to him make him happy.”
They pulled a few more chairs to the table and joined Peter’s friend crew. Even MJ, who spent most of his time at the bar alone, was now part of the group. It was strange, Peter realized, to see how much had changed in the span of a few months. As the others spoke around them, Peter reached out to grab MJ’s hand under the table. MJ gripped Peter’s hand firmly, his eyes turning to lock in Peter’s with a knowing smile.
And later that night, after Peter and MJ returned to MJ’s apartment and fell asleep together in his bed, Peter would dream again. This time though, Peter’s falling. He has no powers, no strength, or web shooters to catch himself, and he’s terrified. But a hand reaches out to him, and he grasps it. A warm body pulls him up and brings him into their arms. He sees warm brown eyes, black waves, and a beautiful smile. This time, MJ catches Peter, and he’s safe.