Peter lay stretched out on the rooftop of the Daily Bugle, the chill of the night seeping through his suit as he gazed up at the stars. The sky above New York glittered with countless points of light, cold and distant but somehow comforting. Up here, the noise of the city faded to a dull hum, leaving only the quiet company of constellations. They were a balm, those stars, making him forget the weight of his life—the losses, the relentless responsibilities. Sometimes, in the hushed glow of midnight, he would wish for a different existence, one where he could escape to the moon and leave everything behind. But reality always set in. New York was his to protect, a cage of concrete and chaos that he could never truly leave.
The familiar hum of flame snapped him from his thoughts. Johnny Storm, wreathed in soft flames, hovered just above the rooftop, his silhouette sharp against the sea of stars. "Hey, Pete," Johnny called, his voice light but warm. "What are you doing up here?"
Peter didn't move, only sighed. "Oh, nothing. Just... looking at the stars."
Johnny quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "Mind if I join you?"
"Sure," Peter replied, a small smile creeping onto his lips.
Johnny landed with practiced ease and lay down beside him. The two heroes lay there in silence, the city sprawling beneath them, alive and unending. Time seemed to stretch out as they stared into the endless dark, unbothered by the shouts and sirens below. After what felt like an eternity, Johnny spoke.
"You know, we've known each other for almost ten years," he said, the words heavy with a kind of revelation.
Peter turned his head, studying Johnny's profile in the starlight. "Really? Feels like just yesterday."
Johnny's eyes flicked to Peter's, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, a brief, silent acknowledgment of shared battles and old scars. Then they both shifted their gazes back to the sky, comfortable in the unspoken.
"I am grateful for you, you know that, right?" Peter said, his voice quieter than before, almost swallowed by the wind.
Johnny's mouth curled into a grin. "Aw, thanks, web-head."
Peter winced at the nickname. He'd always hated it—the way it stuck like an unwanted badge. But when Johnny said it, it felt different. It felt like a name that only Johnny could use, a reminder of the bond that no one else quite understood.
"I'm grateful for you too, Pete," Johnny said, and there was sincerity there that made Peter's chest tighten. They exchanged smiles, small but real, before returning their gaze to the stars.
Minutes slipped by before Johnny shifted, pushing himself up. "I'm gonna head out. This was nice, you know?"
Peter nodded, his eyes still lost in the sky. "We should do this again, yeah?"
Johnny's grin flared, bright as his flame. "Oh, definitely."
And with that, he soared off into the night, leaving Peter alone again on the rooftop. But this time, the city seemed a little less cold.
