EPIC BROMANCE i wrote this in april apparently but set it to private, idk
"So, how's the skull?"
Johnny grins and taps two fingers against his temple. "Made out of denser stuff than yours, Web-head."
"Hey..." A thwip, and Peter's holding a solid ball of webbing in one hand; he pokes it firmly with the other. "See? Made of rubber, and you--" Another thwip, and Johnny's pawing at his hair with a disgusted expression. "Made of glue."
"Ew. That is so not cool."
Peter snorts.
"No, seriously. Sticky white liquid? Comes out of your body? And it's in my hair?"
"And me without my camera..."
"Flame on," Johnny mutters, and Peter laughs -- he can't help it. The fire's ineffective anyway, and Johnny is left with webbing still in his hair and a scorch mark on the wall behind him and floor beneath him. Peter laughs again.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, spider-breath. This stuff still dissolves in an hour, right?"
"Actually, it's usually about a day now."
"What."
"It's been known to last a lot longer."
"...I hate you."
Peter snorts again and leans back against the wall. "Join the club."
"Already did." Johnny seems to forget his annoyance and grins again; it's a grin that makes Peter feel like it's all okay, that the world is the same as it ever was. Just for a second. "Didn't like the badges. Terrible pictures. Tony must've hired the worst photographer in the-- ow!"
"In the ow?" Peter's tone is innocent and his elbow is nowhere near Johnny's side. "Where's the ow, Johnny?"
"Your face in a second."
"Hey ... hey, Daaad, Johnny's being meeean to me--"
"Jeez, shut up, you dork." Johnny's half-threatening, half-laughing. "Cap already wants to kick my ass."
"Johnny, everyone wants to kick your ass."
"Sure, but I don't let them," he says with a snort, and pokes the bandage on Peter's arm. "Dude, serious masochistic streak."
"That's between me and MJ..."
Johnny blinks, then snorts again, and after a second he's pretty much collapsed from laughter.
Peter can't seem to bring himself to do more than smile this time.
"Hey," Johnny says, recovering. He pokes Peter again. "Hey. Don't get all emo on me."
In response, Peter tugs at his bangs to try and cover one eye.
Johnny grins. "You are seriously messed up."
"Yeah." Peter blows the hair back out of his eyes with a sigh, and peers up at the dirty ceiling of their sewer hideout. "Not gonna argue with that. At least I'm not the only one."
"Yeah." A gentle shoulder nudge; a silent me, too.