"I'm so sorry!" Peter said, holding his phone to his ear as he held a bundle under his other arm, "The buses are running slow today, I'm stuck in horrible traffic."
He felt awful that he wasn't able to instantly cross the city to reach you, but swinging from building to building might cause him to damage the item he was carrying, rendering his trip useless.
"It's alright." you said through the phone, your extreme sinus congestion apparent in your nasally voice, "Even Spider-Man has to deal with New York traffic sometimes. Just get home safe. I feel like I haven't seen you in a week."
"Couldn't do it any other way." Peter said with a slight smile, adding quietly, "And that's because we haven't seen each other in a week. I've been so busy dealing with remnants of Fisk's thugs that I haven't even had time to sleep, really."
"See you soon, though?" you asked with a cough.
"Soon as I can." he answered, ending the call.
He groaned internally as he looked out the bus' window at the bumper to bumper gridlock all around him. Was it too much to ask to just get to his girlfriend's house on time for once? Especially when she was sick? He could walk to the apartment faster than this bus was taking him.
And walk he would. Shouldering his light backpack, he walked out of the bus, opting to trek to the apartment instead. Choosing the shortest distance, Peter cut through several alleys and backstreets, the sun slowly beginning to set between buildings.
He thought about calling you again to let you know that he was now walking, but his thoughts were interrupted by hushed arguing and car doors being slammed. Peter habitually ducked into an alley and climbed up to a rooftop, donning his suit to investigate. He quietly swung over to another rooftop, peeking over to see more of Fisk's men loading something into a large van.
"How much longer till we break the boss outta the slammer?" one of the men asked, slamming the back of the van shut.
"We gotta wait till it's dark outside." another huffed, "The Raft isn't exactly easy to break into, especially during the day."
"This half-baked cookie of a plan had better work." another said as he walked towards another vehicle, "I hope the fact that we're working alone makes it harder for that Spider-prick to find us."
"Now, where's the fun in that?" Peter said, leaping onto the van and setting his bag down. "I've always had the opinion of the more, the merrier!"
"Get him!" the first thug shouted, diving into his car for his weapon.
"Listen, I've got somewhere to be," Peter said, webbing the thug to his own vehicle, "So unless you'd like to call yourselves in to the cops, let's make this quick."
Peter's gut wrenched, and he grabbed the bag and ducked just in time to avoid bullets that were being sprayed by another thug. Webbing the bag to the wall, Peter turned to focus on the men. They proved more of a pain to combat than he had anticipated, and the setting sun kept nagging at the back of Peter's mind about the time passing. By the time the last thug had been apprehended, the sky was a fiery orange, quickly dimming with every passing minute.
Peter cursed under his breath, snagging the bag before beginning to swing across the city. Keeping the bundle held closely to his chest, he hoped that the swift journey wouldn't damage the goods inside. While travelling, he called the police to collect the thugs, and made sure that they knew of the plot to attempt to free Fisk.
Despite the speed at which he travelled, Peter couldn't seem to move fast enough. He couldn't stop thinking about curling up with you under the covers, watching a movie with you until you both fell asleep. Once he reached the roof of your building, he hurriedly changed back into his street clothes, jamming his suit back into his backpack. He raced down flights of stairs to your floor, turning the key in the door as his phone began to ring.
"You can ignore that." you said as he stepped into the apartment. "Just wanted to make sure you were alright."
"I told you I'd get here safely." Peter smiled, tossing his backpack onto the table.
"What's in the plastic bag?" you asked, gesturing to the bundle in Peter's arm.
"It's part of the reason I was stuck across town."
"You didn't…"
"You're sick!" Peter countered, unwrapping the bundle to reveal a take-out container of soup, still perfectly sealed and drip-free. "Getting you your favorite soup from your favorite restaurant is the least I can do for you."
"Thank you, Pete." You said, taking the container from him and opening the lid. "It could use a little reheating, though."
"Oh- sorry!" he said, taking it and sticking it into the microwave.
"I've missed you." You said as he sat next to you on the sofa, handing you the now piping hot container of soup.
"I've missed you too." Peter replied, "I'm sorry I haven't been around much."
"Well, you're here now." You sniffed, smiling at him and leaning on his chest, his arm wrapping around you.
"I am." he said, sighing and rubbing your arm. "Now finish your soup so we can lay down together and get some rest."
"You have no idea how excited I am for that." you mumbled between mouthfuls of the soup.
"Oh I think I do." he laughed.
Neither of you were even able to stay awake long enough to pick a movie on Netflix. No sooner were the lights off, then you both had snuggled into each other's arms. Peter gently squeezed you closer, rubbing your back softly and pressing his lips to your forehead. You rested your head on his chest, falling into a peaceful sleep.
"I love you." Peter sighed happily, sleep claiming him as a smile still lingered on his lips.