Chapter Text
The first time Frank runs into Peter, his face is bloody and his hands are bruised.
“Rough night?” Peter asks, locking his apartment door.
“Yea, something like that,” Frank replies. He looks at Peter before asking, “Heading out?”
“Yeah, got the graveyard shift for McDonalds.”
Frank could tell the kid was lying but why does he care? He’s just making small talk with his neighbor who still hasn’t reported him like any other normal or sane person would do.
Frank unlocks his door and says, “Stay safe, kid,” before walking into his apartment.
Peter stays still for a moment, staring at Frank’s closed door before turning around and walking away.
Frank decides to take the week off. His whole body is in pain and he’s just tired. Curtis invited him out to drink but he couldn’t even bother to get up to wash the dishes, so there’s no way he’s going out.
He’s flipping through channels on the TV when a knock on his door pulls him away from his daze. He decides to ignore it.
“It’s me, Peter,” The voice behind the door says. “Your neighbor.”
Frank thinks for a moment before standing up and opening the door, “What’s up, kid?”
“Uh, I brought you some soup,” Peter says, holding up a bag of takeout. “I thought it might help with… that.”
“No no no, it’s fine,” Frank says, taking a half a step back.
Peter thinks for a moment before speaking, “Looks like you need it, just take it.”
“Alright,” Frank says, after a few seconds. “But I’m paying you back.”
“Deal,” Peter says with a soft smile.
Frank gets around to paying Peter back a couple of weeks later.
Peter opens his apartment door and flinches when he notices Frank standing there.
“Sorry, I was just about to knock,” Frank says, hand half raised. “I wanted to ask how much the food was.”
“Oh, forget about it,” Peter says, waving Frank off. “It was really nothing. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah,” Frank answers. “But you said I could pay you back for it.”
Peter shrugs, “Guess I changed my mind.”
Frank chuckles, “Smart move, kid.” He waits for a moment before asking, “Were you going out?”
“Yeah, I was just going to the library, get some work done.”
“Ah, you’re in school?”
“No, just trying to lie on my resume to get a decent job.”
“If you’re looking for a job that pays well, construction is not bad.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, but it’s a lot so I’m not sure you’ll handle it.”
“Well, I’m kind of desperate for money right now so I’ll do anything,” Peter mumbles. “Thanks for the suggestion, I’ll check it out.”
Frank nods, “Alright, bye.”
“Bye,” Peter says before locking his door and walking down the hall.
Frank looks at Peter for a moment, noticing his bandaged hand before opening the door to his own apartment.
The next time they run in, it’s not in their apartment.
Peter’s looking through the dollar section of Rite-Aid, trying to find any cheap snacks to call dinner tonight. He’s staring hard at the bag of peanuts, he really wants peanuts but is it worth the dollar?
“Staring hard at those peanuts, huh?” A voice next to him says.
Peter looks away and notices it’s Frank. He offers the older man a smile, “Oh, hey. Yeah, just wondering if I should buy them.”
“Do you want peanuts?”
“Yeah.”
“Then buy them,” Frank deadpans. He holds up the case of beer he’s holding, “Wanted beer, so I bought beer.”
Peter hums and picks up the bag of peanuts, “Well, I wanted peanuts so now I have peanuts.”
Frank chuckles, “Need anything else?”
“No, that’s it,” Peter replies. He starts walking down the aisle and to the cashier, “So, Frank, I never asked you what you do.”
“Oh, I’m retired,” Frank lies.
“Already?”
“Yeah, I was a marine.”
“Oh,” Peter mumbles. “Military man, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
The two fall silent, waiting in line to check out their stuff.
When it’s Frank’s turn to go up, he grabs the peanuts out of Peter’s hand, “I got it, don’t worry.”
Peter wants to protest, but the man was already scanning his things. He sighs and waits for Frank to pay before following the older man out of the store.
“Thanks, man,” Peter says when Frank hands him the peanuts.
“It’s just a dollar,” Frank replies. “You find a job yet?”
“I guess,” Peter answers. “I took your suggestion, actually. There’s this dude who takes me to construction sites. Pays 150 a day but it’s all off the books so if my arm is cut off or something, I’ll just have to deal with it.”
Frank just hums in response.
They walk in silence until they get to their apartment building.
“Thanks, again,” Peter says, watching Frank unlock his door.
Frank opens his apartment door before responding, “Don’t worry about it, kid.”
Peter watches Frank enter his apartment before entering his own.
The last thing Frank expects to see at 3:00AM on a Saturday is Peter bruised and struggling to open his apartment door.
“Bar fight?” Frank asks, grabbing the keys from Peter’s shaking hands and opening his door for him.
“Yeah,” Peter lies.
When Frank opens the door, Peter steps inside.
“You got anyone to look at that for you?” Frank asks, still standing by the door. He hands Peter’s his keys, “Don’t get it infected.”
Peter throws the keys on the kitchen counter before turning to Frank, “Come in. I owe you a cup of coffee anyway.”
“For what?”
“The peanuts.”
Frank chuckles before shaking his head, “You gotta stop keeping track of that small shit.”
Peter shrugs and sits down on his couch.
Frank thinks for a moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “You got a first aid kit?”
“It’ll fix on its own,” Peter mumbles, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath before getting up and grabbing a cup.
“Nah, I don’t want the coffee, it’s fine,” Frank says, sitting down on the other end of the couch. “Just wanted to make sure you’ll be okay.”
Peter puts down the cup, “Want a beer?”
Frank chuckles, “Yeah, sure.”
Peter grabs a beer from the fridge and opens it before handing it to Frank. He sits back down on the couch.
“Are you even old enough to drink?” Frank asks before taking a sip of his beer.
“Nope,” Peter says, closing his eyes again.
Frank thinks for a few moments before speaking, “I got a friend who could look at that if you want, he was a medic in the army.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Peter replies.
“How’d you really get hurt?”
“Tried to stop a mugging,” Peter says. “Turns out the dude had like 5 friends.”
Frank shakes his head, “Only kids get into stupid like that. Listen, you see something like that and you run the other way.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why not? Have some weird savior complex?”
“Actually, yeah. My uncle died in a mugging gone bad so can’t look the other way.”
Frank stays silent.
“I’m sorry,” Peter says, breaking the silence.
“Why are you sorry?” Frank asks.
“I overshare too much.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it.”
Peter only hums before opening his eyes and glancing over at Frank.
“Got a family, Frank?”
“Nah,” Frank replies, quietly. “You?”
“Nope.”
Frank finishes his beer before getting up, “Let me get you some food, kid.”
“I ate already,” Peter lies.
“You know, I can tell when you’re lying,” Frank mumbles. “Let me grab my wallet from my apartment and I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Please… just don’t,” Peter says, finally looking Frank in the eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Frank says. He opens the apartment door, “Bye.”
Without saying another word he slams the door shut behind him. He knows he shouldn’t be hurt but why was it so hard for Peter to just accept his help? It’s not like he’s trying to hurt Peter. If Peter wants to be cold then that’s what he’ll be.
Peter doesn’t know why he was rude to Frank. The man was just trying to help him out. But the fear of getting too close to someone is still stuck in his head. Literally everyone he has cared about in this world has left him. If he just minds his business then there is no way anyone will ever be able to hurt him.
But it isn’t fair to Frank. Frank is just a sweet man trying to help out and Peter made him feel bad.
So Peter decides to buy brownie mix from the Dollar Tree down the street and bakes brownies. They take longer than they’re supposed to because Peter is 90% sure that his oven is 50% broken.
He tries his best to make them look fancy but it doesn’t work with his limited supplies.
He knocks on Frank’s apartment door twice before taking half a step back.
Frank opens the door, “Hey, what’s up kid?”
“I, uh, made brownies,” Peter replies, holding the plate of brownies forward. “For being rude to you on Friday. I didn’t mean it, I was just feeling down, which is a horrible reason to treat anyone badly but I promise to do better in the future.”
Frank thinks for a moment before softly chuckling, “Kid, you didn’t need to make me brownies.”
“Um, I know, but they’re good,” Peter mumbles.
Frank accepts the plate of brownies before stepping away from the door, “Come in. I’ll get you some milk with these brownies.”
Peter takes a deep breath before walking inside the apartment. He glances around, it’s a studio like his. There’s only a bed in the middle of the room and a couple of chairs and a table.
“Sorry about the apartment, I don’t really have guests over.”
Peter shakes his head, “It’s okay, mine is worse.”
“Sit down,” Frank says, motioning towards the chairs near the kitchen. “You want coffee or milk?”
“Um, just some milk is fine,” Peter replies.
“Coming right up.”
Peter stays silent for a few moments, trying to think of small talk.
“So, uh, do you work?” Peter finally asks.
“Yeah, do some construction work here and there but I’m mostly set if I don’t,” Frank answers. “You find a permanent job yet?”
“Yeah, still just doing some construction work now. I hand the bricklayers their bricks and cement and stuff. And then I work the night shift for RiteAid,” Peter replies.
“Shit, two jobs?”
“Yeah, gotta pay the bills man.”
Frank places a cup of milk in front of Peter before sitting in the chair across from him.
“What’s up with your family, kid? Doesn’t wanna help you out?” Frank asks.
“Um, they’re not really around… because they can’t be,” Peter replies. “They’re dead.”
“I’m sorry,” Frank sighs.
“It’s okay, I guess death is just a part of life,” Peter says, offering Frank a soft smile.
Frank scoffs, “Tell me about it.”
“What about you?” Peter asks after a few moments of silence.
“Got a kid down in Florida,” Frank replies. It’s not exactly a lie.
“Oh, that’s nice!” Peter replies, with genuine excitement in his voice. “How old are they?”
“I’d say she’s around your age, I think you two would get along.”
“Well, I’d like to meet her if she ever comes around or anything.”
Frank hums in reply. He thinks for a moment adding, “But I had a family before her… who I lost. I guess what I’m saying is you’re not alone. I know what it’s like to lose people you care about and feel lost and alone.”
This time Peter hums, quickly blinking back tears. He gets up, “I- I have to get ready for work. Thanks for the milk, mister…?”
“Frank,” Frank answers. “You?”
“Well, Frank, I am Peter,” Peter replies. “Thanks again, Mr. Frank.”
“Yeah, no problem, kid.”
Peter quickly walks out of Frank’s apartment and takes a deep breath. He’s not sure why he’s freaking out. Being around Frank is the safest he’s felt in months. But something about him sharing stuff about his personal life makes it seem like there’s room there for him and Peter to grow closer together and Peter just can’t let that happen.
Peter curses under his breath before unlocking the door to his apartment and walking in.