Didn’t I?

Peter was in love with tony. Since, since a while. He doesn’t know when it became apparent to him. He doesn’t know why it happened. Maybe it was the prolonged eye contact at some moments. Maybe it was The look that Tony gave him when he said something that gave him a new point of view on things. Maybe it was the lingering touches, the touches that were there just for that one second more, to make it feel that much more intimate. Peter loved tony. He loved the way his hands moved swiftly when working, the way his eyes would narrow and tongue would poke out just a bit when he was focusing on something. The way he would smile at you. His stupid jokes, always having snacks, his sarcasm, his hair, their inside jokes. Lots of things, led up to the realization.

And lots of things led up to the point where Peter knew, he couldn’t have him. Ever. Not now , not in the future. The stones are gone. His love that was there for him one second, his love that was pestering affecting his daily thoughts, actions, and heart. The love that would never be returned to him. Never to be reciprocated. A lone love. One doomed to die. One that is just going go down from here. Atleast that’s what he told himself. His love festered, slightly discouraged by Tony’s death, but not dead.

Mj. He told himself he loved MJ. He told mysterio he loved MJ. He told May he loved MJ. He knew he couldn’t love MJ. Not with the love that was still there for tony. He loved her. Just not in the way he hoped. Not the way May hoped or Ned hoped. He just couldn’t do it to her. So when he asked to take her out onto the bridge, the necklace stayed in his pocket. The confession stayed in his head, rather than his heart. His feelings for tony, stayed where they belonged. Locked away from the world. For him to see only. Private, lovely, and nobody to give it to.
The way it has to be.

Peter was so stupid so fucking stupid to ever, EVER, trust himself to make any decisions ever. He was stupid to think he could be trusted with Edith. Stupid to trust mysterio. Stupid for not loving the girl that was right there. Stupid for loving t-

Stupid.

Now here he was standing in front of a passed out(dead?) mysterio, bloodied, glasses back on his face, feeling terrible for causing such trouble for happy, his friends, and everyone in fucking Europe.

Venice was supposed to help. But when he got home, to his apartment in New York he only felt this pestering emptiness.

New York. Home of the avengers. What was left of the avengers anyways. A teenage boy, two of captain americas sidekicks, super woman, and a very let go Thor. And some other characters that couldn’t be bothered to join the group of dying hero’s.

Peter felt bad as soon as he thought those insults, immediately thinking an apology towards those he insulted.

Peter stayed in his room, Texted Ned and mj that they should give him some space for a bit, he didn’t want to have them call and for them to worry that he’s out doing something dangerous. he didn’t want them to have to dwell over every moment of silence that comes from him, he just wants… space.

Peters laying down in the middle of his room now. Light coming through the window, sound of cars bustling and chatter coming from the street below. The sun was nice on his skin, with his senses dialed up to ten, he could feel the warmth radiating off the sunlight.

He bathed in the sunlight, laying in silence, his aunt was about to go out on a shift. He was wearing his New York shirt that Tony got him, and a pair of boxers. The scene would be funny to Peter if he wasn’t so lost in… nothingness.

At least he was lost in nothingness, before his aunt knocked on his door, startling him. “Can I come in?”

Peter shouted a confirmation to the woman as she cracked the door open, only enough for her to pop the upper half of her body through the door. She immediately winced in sympathy at the clothes peter was wearing.

Peter had made it a habit to wear the shirt Tony got him when he missed Said billionaire or was lost in thought. He was wearing them for both reasons that day.

“Peter?” Peter met mays gaze, but said nothing.

“you know it’s not your fault right?”

Peter looked away and back at the ceiling of his room.

“Yeah, I know.” Peter mumbled. Peter didn’t believe the words that left his mouth but if he just senselessly agreed he’d be left alone.

Peters hands fidgeted with each other on his chest as he felt mays stare still on him.

“Yes? May?” Peter said exasperatedly.

“I know since tony, went away-“ Peter slightly frowned at the use of the use of the sugar coated phrase. He died. No need to-

“- you’ve missed him a lot, I know, how hard it is, losing someone you thought would be there with you for… everything. This, this isn’t the first time you had to deal with loss, peter I know that- but I just wanted to say. When your ready, to talk about, tony, Europe, anything. Anything peter. You can talk to me, alright?”

Peter feel a lump grow in his throat. He didn’t deserve such a great person in his life.

Peter slightly nodded, meeting mays gaze, barely rasping out without choking on his gratitude towards May.

“Y-yeah, thank you. May.”

May smiled at peter .

“Anytime. There’s some lasagna in the freezer. I’ll be home late. Remember to turn off the oven alright?“

“Alright.“

And with that May was gone. The front door closing leaving Peter to his thoughtlessness.

He cried into May as soon as he saw her after the second snap. Yammering about tony, and apologizing, they both cried. Aunt May held him and they cried together for a while, in happys apartment. Peter never mentioned his love to tony then. He never mentioned it to anyone.

Peter remembered staying there, being so depressed all the time. Before school started again. And they moved out. Then he was distracted. This new mistake was different than the last.

Peter felt surprisingly calm for the actions that went down in Europe. Mysterio being dead, didn’t phase peter as much as it probably should have, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to conjure a reason why.

Peter stared at the dust particles that floated through the air, only visible because of the sunlight that was coming through the window, didn’t I by dorando playing quietly in the background as Peter closed his eyes.

He thought about May. About MJ. About Ned. He thought about his secret love. He thought about nothing.

Peter relaxed, hearing something fizzing behind him but paid it no mind, his spider sense wasn’t saying anything so it couldn’t be important.

“Peter?”

Peters eyes shot open and he quickly sat up and turned and looked at the space behind him, all that was there, was a faint sparkle of something that used to be there.

Peter swore that the voice it- it was, tony. It had to be tony. He swore it was tony it- it had to have been tony but how did-

Peter stopped himself there. His hope increased, his never dead love, pounding in his chest from the voice.

He examined the spot a moment more before turning back into the position he was in before. Peter, slightly worried he was going crazy, closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, to forget hope. Forget everything for a while.