tom holland & peter parker fics

upside down [peter parker]

Every morning, you used to open your apartment's front door and see Peter Parker waiting there for you. Some days he had his shoulder leaning against the wall while zoned into his cracked phone screen and others he was sitting on the ground with a worn-out notebook in his lap and hustling to finish homework.

Ash brown curls were neatly combed back, gelled and reflecting a shine from the hall light gleaming on the top of his head. When he lifted his head, his brown orbs were darker than the color of his hair. His sweet, warm smile painted on his face when his gaze met with yours. You never asked him to walk you to school but he always offered, even if it was the opposite way of his commute.

Since you were seven and he was eight, you moved into the smaller, dingey apartment across the hall from his. After your father was laid off from his long term job, you were moved across New York in one night and suddenly towns away from your friends but closer to family in the heart of Queens.

You remember carrying your box of toys up the steep stairs, trying to balance the bottom of the box on the top of your small knee. When you finally got to the top of the stairs, your foot caught under the last step and the stuffed animals, books and games spilled from the cardboard box. You rolled over to your bottom, seeing the skin on your knees strapped against the old, hardwood floors.

You pulled your knee toward you, brushing your index finger over the peeled skin and watching the blood overfill the cuts. Unbeknownst to you, Peter Parker was down the hall—peeking from his own door, his fingers tapping against the frame and his button nose pressed against the cold paint. May and Ben asked Peter to help while they were in your living room trying to secure the bed frames together. Peter wanted to help, of course, but when you passed him down the stairs earlier, he had never seen such a pretty girl.

It wasn't love at first sight, but he almost thought you were a figment of his young imagination. Your heavenly being intimidated him with his sheepish personality, trying to hide away until he watched you collapse. He quickly ran over and kneeled down, picking up your scattered mementos. After placing a few in the box, his ogling eyes met yours and they instantly glassed from the pure bliss of your presence.

"Hi." You giggled and he thought he was talking to an angel.

From that point on, Peter was the adorable boy next door. He was the one to catch you before you fell. Most of your childhood was riding bikes through Battery Park or sitting on the rooftop of Delmar's and trying to see the stars through the New York smog. At this time, your friendship wasn't complicated and you looked out for each other day after day.

The summer before freshman year, you two were inseparable. You even admitted to yourself you started liking him. It wasn't because he was simply convenient, but he was perfect and unknowing to you, his feelings were mutual. You thought things could turn out for the best, that was, until summer was fading into a memory and the timing of this prolonged crush couldn't have been worse.

He decided to go to Midtown High while you went to the public school that was a few blocks from your apartment. Peter's homework piled up day in and day out, leaving him up until the crack of dawn finishing it for the next day. He made new friends named Ned and Michelle and constantly talked about a girl named Liz, a senior who was on his Decathlon team. It's not that you were jealous of his new upcomings or a new crush, you just missed him.

From that point, whenever you went to the Parkers' door, May always answered and excused her busy nephew, telling you that Peter was either out or too busy with homework to the point he'd locked himself in his room till it was done. You understood, knowing that his Uncle Ben recently passed and that Peter was getting used to his new, prestigious school but you'd thought he'd take time to talk to his best friend. Now, instead of opening the door to a bright eyed boy, it was an empty, dim-lit hallway.