Everyone was getting ready for their night out, but MJ and Gwen needed to make one last trip home to wrap things up.
"I'll only be ten minutes, tops," Gwen assured MJ, giving Peter a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll make sure she's all set," she added as the two of them left together.
Since both MJ and Gwen lived in Forest Hills, not far from Peter's old neighborhood, they decided to share a cab to finish their errands. Once everything was handled, they planned to meet Peter at a burger spot near the warehouse.
The idea of a relaxing evening with friends, free from the usual high school drama, was a welcome change.
With George's lecture still weighing on him—and knowing there were likely more to come—Peter appreciated the distraction. Earlier, Gwen had whispered something about there being a chance for some private time later, as long as they were quiet, which lifted his spirits a bit more.
The warm summer air and the gentle coastal breeze made the short walk to the diner calm and refreshing, exactly what Peter needed to unwind.
But as soon as he stepped inside and spotted Flash, his mood took a nosedive.
The restaurant was styled like a classic British gastropub, complete with a polished mahogany bar, cozy booths, and a menu featuring a mix of American and traditional pub fare. Behind the bar, shelves were lined with microbrews and commercial beers, adding to the charm.
The neatly uniformed staff—dressed in tailored waistcoats, crisp shirts, and trousers—moved efficiently between tables, balancing trays filled with mouthwatering food and drinks.
Peter took a deep breath, letting the aroma of grilled beef and onions calm him slightly. He wasn't going to let Flash ruin the evening.
As Peter approached the table, he noticed Flash's smug grin.
What's he so pleased about? Peter wondered.
Flash leaned closer to MJ, sliding his arm possessively around her waist and clasping her hand. She squirmed, clearly uncomfortable, trying to pull away subtly, but Flash tightened his grip and shot her a slight glare before turning his grin back to Peter.
"Oh, hey guys. Gwen's not here yet?" Peter asked casually. "I thought she was with you."
"I was talking to her dad," Flash replied, his smirk widening. "Turns out MJ is renting some dump from a con artist. We got to chatting, and, lucky me, MJ showed up."
MJ silently prayed that her earlier warning message had reached Peter. She had only gone back to Forest Hills to drop off her keys and let her dad know she was leaving. Unfortunately, Flash had been there and refused to leave her side.
Peter slid into the booth and grabbed a menu. "You know, I wasn't expecting to see you here, Flash. MJ would've had to let you know I'd be here. So, what's the deal?" he asked, flipping through the pages without so much as glancing in Flash's direction.
"Well, MJ's my girlfriend, so I've got to make sure she's okay," Flash said, straightening up as if to assert himself. "Her dad was worried about her too."
Peter continued scanning the menu, ignoring Flash's attempt at posturing. When he reached the last page, he closed it, set it down, and gave MJ a reassuring smile.
"You know, I think I'll go for the cheese stacker burger with chili fries. But first—"
Without warning, Peter leaned forward, grabbed Flash by the shoulders, and effortlessly lifted him over the table.
"Listen here, shithead," Peter muttered, his voice low enough that MJ couldn't hear. "This isn't high school anymore. If I dragged you outside and smashed you into a lamppost, there's nothing you could do about it. The only reason you're still sitting here is because MJ hasn't told you to leave. So shut your mouth, sit still, and maybe I won't make our last fight look like a warm-up."
Peter calmly set Flash back into his seat, brushing off his shirt and smoothing his shoulders as if nothing had happened.
"But let's wait for Gwen before we order," he added lightly, returning to his usual tone.
Flash sat frozen, completely stunned. Peter had just lifted him—not just dragged him but physically hoisted him over the table with an iron grip. When had Parker gotten this strong?
Flash shrank into his seat, his confidence rattled. Peter was right—this wasn't high school anymore. Flash could call the cops, but considering their history and the lawsuit his father had settled, it wouldn't end well for him.
Flash had come to gloat, to flaunt his relationship with MJ and show off how he'd found her a better place to live. But seeing Peter like this—calm, strong, and completely unfazed—felt like a gut punch.
MJ had been watching the exchange closely. Peter's low voice hadn't been quite as quiet as he'd intended, and the message was clear. This wasn't the same Peter she'd known in high school. He had grown into someone confident and capable. She only hoped he wasn't bluffing.
But there was something about his tone and demeanor that felt genuine. Even Flash's reaction confirmed it—he was clearly worried.
"Well, while we wait for Gwen, I'm grabbing a drink. You want anything, MJ?" Peter asked, deliberately ignoring Flash.
Flash scowled and pointed to the beer in front of him, though Peter hadn't been talking to him.
MJ shook her head. She had a Coke, and Peter suddenly remembered her dad's issues with alcohol. Feeling a pang of guilt for not thinking of it sooner, he nodded and made his way to the bar.
The woman tending the bar pointed to a sign behind her and Peter laughed. "Eighteen and over only, yeah." He knew he looked young, so he found his ID and handed it over.
"You do samplers? It's my first time with microbrews so I've no idea what I'll like," he asked, trying to sound as undorky as possible. Aunt May had no beer in the house so he'd never had anything alcoholic to drink before.
"Sure, we've got," and she listed what seemed to Peter like a hundred different brew types. Peter realised that he had no clue when it came to alcohol, and dorky or not he would have to ask.
"Okay, those all sound, uh, great. How about something to go with a burger, 'cause those were words but anything more was beyond me."
The woman's eye twinkled as he made fun of himself. His ID said he was over eighteen and the little show earlier as he lifted that asshole up had impressed her. She had worked bar long enough to recognise an abuser and someone who'd stand up for their friend.
He also had a sense of humour, scoring more points. She was tired of beer snobs. The ones who either ordered the most obscure thing they had or complained they didn't have some fancy unknown brew.
She poured Peter a pale light ale and as he took a sip he shook his head, pulling a face.
"Uh, no. Is all beer like that?" He asked and she nodded, "then no, sorry. Anything sweeter? That's, that's just too bitter for me."
"Try a cider then, crisp and sweet, depending on what one you try. Pick a few and I can pour you some to try."
Peter smiled as she explained. "Always nice to get an expert's opinion."
She gave him what might have been an actual smile. Peter's experience with women was Gwen and then none, so if she was being nice or flirting, he had no clue.
"It should be sweet and go down smooth," she said. She handed him back his ID and a napkin with her number on it, "like a few things here."
"Hey Pete, hitting on the bar staff huh? Can't leave you alone for two minutes, can I?" Gwen winked at the server before standing next to him.
A hint of disappointment flashed over the server's face. She could appreciate his girlfriend though. She was stunning.
Damn cute couples, she thought as Peter selected a home-brewed Candy Apple Cider. It was being trialled for Halloween and so far had been popular.
She was about to take the undrunk beer away when Gwen shook her head, "Athisons pale?" The cute and knowledgeable server nodded. "Did you order this and then not like it, Pete?" He nodded so Gwen shrugged and took it. "Saves wasting it." She winked at the server as she lifted the napkin, showing she had seen the number, "the ale too."
Peter handed over his card and dropped a five-dollar into the tip jar. "Thanks." He lifted his own drink when the server placed a hand on his.
She leaned forwards. "Tell your friend if she wants him gone to give her glass to me with the beermat and nod. I'll make sure she's okay."
"Thank you," and he made his way to the table where MJ and Flash were having a heated discussion.
Peter already knew what the argument was about. He could hear it of course but it wasn't the argument that surprised him, it was the topic.
Flash wasn't happy about MJ living so close to Peter, that he was afraid of their history.
Peter shook his head, so what if they grew up together, it was ten years ago. Being a jealous asshole about it wouldn't win him any favours with MJ. That battle was already lost. Telling her she couldn't had gotten him shown the door rather than her backing down. MJ had enough of overbearing assholes living with her father. Flash knew that, so acting like this was just stupid.
It explained a lot though. If Flash was willing to act like this in public, Peter hated to think how he treated her in private. He added that to the things he despised Flash for.
Now MJ had moved in he would make sure that Flash knew he wasn't welcome, and speak to MJ about her dad. If she didn't want him there, he would be given the same warning.
Knowing he'd only add fuel to an already lit fire, he decided to let the situation defuse. He handed his drink to Gwen.
"I'll be in the toilet, text me in five minutes if it's still bad but get Flash to leave. He's going to blame me, so it's better if I'm not there. and if he acts out, the server said she'd deal with it." Peter passed on her instructions.
Gwen nodded and looked over at the pair. MJ looked like she was ready to cry and Flash looked like he was ready to hit someone.
And I, Gwen thought to herself, am going to kill him. Gwen had a plan involving MJ, Pete, some shots and hopefully a lack of clothing, and Flash was fucking it up.
The lecture Flash was giving MJ hadn't lessened and Gwen had taken out her phone. She was tapping a message to Peter that she was about to get Flash thrown out when the doors to the diner swung open dramatically.
Gwen frowned as a weird cosplay boiler-suit guy came in. Behind him, a huge muscle freak in a grey bodysuit motioned for her to drop her phone. She glared at him and he clenched a fist menacingly and slammed it into his other one.
It wasn't how he expected the night to go,
"Come out for a drink, we'll get together, have a few laughs…," he sighed to himself.
He was watching his phone count down for five minutes and sitting on the toilet was boring. It wasn't till he heard the screams that he realised he'd missed the noise of the bar disappearing.
Opening the door of the toilet a crack he couldn't see past the wall, but he could hear just fine.
"Miss Nakatani. If you would be so kind as to hand over your card and the passcode we can leave you and these fine people to their meals. No fuss," and adding an edge to the voice, "and no violence."
It was a modulated synthetic voice, someone punk robber wearing a kid's Halloween mask.
"Hey, ain't that Stacy's kid?" he heard one of them say, and his blood froze.
Sliding the door back gently, Peter felt the anger in his chest rise. While he couldn't see who it was, he knew that Gwen and MJ were out there and he needed to do something. Threatening Gwen was a huge mistake, stupid mask or not.
He hoped Flash was stupid enough to try something, and get himself hurt in the process. He doubted it though. Flash wasn't as brave without his friends. He wasn't Felicia, who would have tried to hit whoever threatened Gwen with the table.
Scanning his surroundings, Peter's eyes landed on the narrow, locked bathroom window. With no other option in sight, he allowed the Venom symbiote to envelop him, its dark tendrils coiling around his form like liquid armor. Pressing against the window frame, he felt the symbiote enhance his strength as the entire structure popped free from the wall with a sharp groan of metal.
Squeezing through the gap with practiced agility, Peter dropped silently to the ground outside. The transformation was complete, and now, clad in the sleek, ominous black of Venom, he prepared to take action. It was time for Venom to step in and handle things.