"It seems like today is Christmas," Harry scratched his chin while playing a fighting game.
Both of them turned their heads to look at the house, which was already fully decorated, then turned back.
"Oh, really?" Peter said, sipping from a can of Coke while landing a combo on Harry's character.
"You know, I want to try preparing Christmas myself."
"...Why are you suddenly in the mood for that?"
"Idk? I just want to try it, to experience it."
"..."
After that, the two paused the game and looked around Harry's house.
...It was already decorated in a flashy and extravagant way.
"I think we don't need to do anything; let's just keep playing. The house staff already did everything."
"No!" Harry stood up with serious eyes.
"I won't allow myself to enjoy the benefits without doing anything! I want to do something useful!"
"And?" Peter also stood up, holding his Coke can to take another sip.
"Hmm."
Harry then checked everything one by one to see if there was anything left undone.
And luckily, there was one thing: the food!
"Peter! We're going to cook!"
"...What? Nahhh, you're not serious."
"Why would you say that?"
"Because neither of us knows how to cook, and you want us to prepare food for something as important as Christmas? You must be joking," Peter replied rationally.
I mean, he has a point, but...
"Peter." Harry put a hand on Peter's shoulder.
"?"
"Cooking isn't about whether it tastes good or not. After all, cooking for Christmas is just symbolic—the important thing is the sentiment! Like how Satan Cloud stuffs coal into the mouths of naughty kids."
"I think you got the name wrong, and it doesn't even relate—"
"Peter! Don't you want to make something with our own hands, serve it to everyone, and have them all praise how delicious it is?!"
Peter looked into Harry's extremely serious eyes.
"...Fine, you're impossible. Alright."
And so the two headed into the kitchen.
"Okay, first step—what do we do? I'm pretty sure your house has plenty of ingredients, right—" Peter put on a kitchen apron and opened the fridge.
"No, we always order food from outside."
"...For real? Then why even have a kitchen?"
"Hold on, I'll order some right now." Harry pulled out his phone to shop online.
After a while, the doorbell rang, and Peter went to answer it.
"Oh, kid, aren't you... Harry Osbum?" an old man wearing sunglasses with a kind smile said.
"It's Osborn, not Osbum, and I'm his friend."
"Oh, is that so? Then sorry to bother you—here you go." He handed Peter a huge bag. When Peter tried to pay, the old man raised his hand to stop him.
"Today's Christmas, so consider this free, son." He waved and left the Osborn mansion.
"...You such a nice guy. What's your name, sir? So I can give you a 5-star review on the app."
"Stan Lee."
Peter closed the door, returned to the kitchen, and set the bag full of ingredients on the table.
"How much was it?" Harry asked, ready to transfer money to Peter.
"Didn't cost a cent. Ran into a really kind person."
"Oh, for real? I love Christmas."
Then the two took out the ingredients and looked at them.
"What should we make first?"
"Ehhh... Cookies, I guess. Santa Claus likes them."
"Yeah, let's do that..."
Harry put on a chef's hat, got out a pan, and poured in oil.
"...Uh, Harry? I remember cookies are made differently?"
"Fried cookies are still cookies, right?"
"Really?" Peter scratched his head. He'd never cooked much, so he didn't know.
...Actually, he had cooked once—when Aunt May asked him to help make mashed potatoes with butter.
Then Uncle Ben got food poisoning, and Aunt May banned him from the kitchen forever.
He thought it was unfair. Potatoes causing food poisoning? It must've been because they were sprouted potatoes. He'd followed Aunt May's instructions exactly.
Add butter to unpeeled potatoes and throw them in the blender—nothing wrong with the recipe at all.
"First, we need... Uhhh, where's the flour?"
"Here." Peter brought over the bag of flour.
"We have to add water to this flour, shake it well, and mix in some chocolate too."
"Let me do it."
Peter looked around and saw a bottle of liquid near the spices.
So he tore open the bag, poured in a bunch of the liquid, added chocolate, and shook it vigorously.
"Huh? Peter, where did you get that water from? The sink is right next to us."
"What? Then what's this?" Peter looked confused at the bottle he'd just poured.
"I think I left vinegar there... But probably not—hurry up, Peter!"
"Okay."
Harry took a cutting board and dumped the freshly mixed dough onto it.
"It smells kinda sour... Fermented chocolate?" Harry scratched his head.
"Dude, chocolate is fermented cacao—that sour smell is definitely from something else," Peter reminded him, leaning in to sniff.
"...Smells like vinegar. Weird—did I add vinegar?"
"No? You didn't add any vinegar," Harry said.
"...Then it must be the flour that's bad."
"Wait a sec!"
Harry left the kitchen to grab something and came back.
"What's that?"
"Perfume!"
"??"
Even though he wasn't good at cooking, adding perfume to food definitely felt extremely wrong.
"Peter, food is always fragrant, right? I've always wondered why—until I realized... it must be because something fragrant is added!"
"So why perfume?"
"Idk, because it's super fragrant?"
Harry's explanation was extremely flawed, but Peter couldn't pinpoint why. After all, fragrant food must have something fragrant added to it, right?
"If that's the case, we should be careful—alcohol contacting hot oil won't end well, and it's perfume on top of that."
"Ehh, don't worry. It's not going to be bad enough to cause an explosion, burn down my house, and release a bunch of toxic gas."
Then Harry poured the entire bottle of perfume into the dough.
The color was looking a bit weird now...
"Harry, I think before frying, we should step back a little—you know, for safety."
"...You're right. Being near the fire is hot anyway."
So we kneaded the dough a few more times, then carried it over to the hot oil pan.
"Ahem... SWING LOWW~ SWEET CHARIOT—"
Right after that, pedestrians near the Osborn mansion were startled by a massive explosion.
...
"Hola amigos! Is Peter here, Harry?" Gwen opened the mansion door and stepped in with an innocent smile.
...Right in front of her was a pan spewing a column of fire straight up, toxic smoke filling the room, while Harry and Peter were wearing gas masks and flipping through an instruction manual.
"Where did we go wrong?" Harry asked.
"I think it was the step where we used chocolate as the base. The fermentation seems to have affected the cookies too."
"Hmm... But the color is right."
"Black is right?"
"Brown is close to black, isn't it?"
Both scratched their heads, then looked back at the manual.
Gwen blinked repeatedly, almost short-circuiting, then screamed.
"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING???"
***
The kitchen had been cleaned up. Peter and Harry were sitting at the dining table.
Peter looked totally chill, while Harry was bruised and battered, with huge lumps on his head—like he'd just been beaten up.
"W-Why... did I g-get beaten..."
"Because you dragged Peter into cooking, even though neither of you has any experience! It's a miracle Peter didn't get hurt!" Gwen yelled, making Harry flinch.
"Oh... Smells amazing," Peter sniffed in surprise.
Right then, Gwen set down plates and placed a ton of food on the table.
Roast turkey, mashed potatoes, stewed green beans, cranberry sauce, cornbread, gingerbread cookies, apple pie, and eggnog.
And she'd made all of this in less than half an hour! Insanely fast!
"...I didn't know you were this good at cooking," Peter was still a bit stunned by what Gwen had accomplished.
"Well, I'm going to take care of you in the future—of course I'd know how to cook, or how could I be a wife?" Gwen said bluntly with an innocent face, taking off her apron.
"Why are you always so sane in side chapters like this?"
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
Harry stared at the food in front of him and swallowed hard—he had to hold back until it was time.
Knock knock.
"Hmm? Who's at the door?"
"I'll check," Gwen said, walking over.
As soon as she opened it, a bunch of voices rang out.
"Are you mutants?!"
"Yeah! Lee future boyfriend invited me—so why wouldn't I come?" Kitty said excitedly.
"Free food," Bobby said, bundled up even more than usual.
"I'm here to see Peter—I have a lot to tell him," Pietro said quickly; he really wanted to get closer to Peter.
"Hey... Where's Harry?" Lee scratched his head while greeting Gwen.
"Just come in—it's not my house anyway."
So the four mutants came in and happily sat at the table.
Knock knock.
"Who now?"
Gwen went to the door again and opened it.
"Oh, the little girlfriend of the kid, huh? Hi there," Tony Stark said smugly.
"Peter invited me—is that okay?" Bruce said gently.
"Huh? Just the two of you?" Peter walked over.
"Yeah, Marc doesn't care much—he said he'd patrol for crime so no one causes trouble on Christmas," Bruce explained.
"And Lila went home to eat with her family."
"Oh well... Anyway, Uncle Ben and Aunt May—"
"Right here," Uncle Ben and Aunt May appeared right behind Peter.
"WHAT THE?! WHEN DID YOU TWO GET HERE??"
"We've been here for a while, kid. Come on, let's eat!"
So everyone sat at the table, laughing and chatting happily.
Peter sat down and looked at everyone one by one.
"Hey, why are you hurt like that?" Lee asked Harry.
"Mosquito bites! Ah, don't pull out those weird potions again—no, no!"
"Oi Peter! You won't believe this, but I ran into—UHAH!"
"Get lost, Pietro! I'm eating!!!" Kitty punched Pietro in the face.
Bobby was just chilling and eating.
"Kid, want any gifts? I'll play Santa for you today only," Tony said casually while pouring his champagne.
"Hulk wants to talk to you too, Peter! But I'm afraid I'd break the whole table," Bruce said embarrassedly.
"Wow, our Peter has made so many friends... Huh? What's wrong? You don't look too happy," Aunt May said to Uncle Ben.
"I'm happy too... The problem is Tony Stark knows our kid... When we get home, I want to have a few words with him about being careful around that guy."
It was pretty noisy and lively.
But really fun.
"What's up, Peter? Not eating?" Gwen asked from beside him.
"...Heh, of course I am." Peter smiled, picked up his fork, and stole food from Gwen's plate.
"Huh?! Why are you suddenly taking my food?? Give it back!!"
Peter chewed happily, enjoying this warm atmosphere.
Merry Christmas, readers!