#spider-man

Things have been different since you returned from Europe; since Peter told you his super-powered secret. The two of you had been distant. School and Peter’s ‘extracirruclar’ activities had taken over your lives. Luckily, you and Peter have a group project that brings you closer than ever before.

“How long have we been working on this?” Peter asked through a yawn.

“Stop it,” you said, waving at hand at him. Though, it was too late. A yawn forced its way to your face and you groaned through it. 

Peter, under the heat of your mildly amused glare,  let out a small laugh. “Sorry.”

“Sure you are,” you teased, reaching for your phone. Your eyes widened when you saw the time. “No, no that can’t be right.”

“I think it might be,” Peter said, his voice sounding far away. When you looked over to where he was sat, you saw only empty space. Quickly glancing around the room, you found him by his bedroom window. He pulled the curtains to the side and revealed the darkness of night that had settled over Queens. 

“We’re not even close to finished with this,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Did we spend hours just talking?”

“Guess we lost track of time,” Peter agreed, moving to sit across from you once more.

On the floor before you were scattered papers; some riddled with nasty equations and others were scholarly articles lifted from the school’s database. You and Peter had barely begun to scratch the surface of the project assignment. Your eyes flicked over the rubric and your hands lifted to hold your head up as all your energy suddenly morphed into worry.

“Hey,” you felt Peter’s warm hand on your upper arm, anchoring you to reality. “It’s not due ‘til next week. We have time.”

You met Peter’s brown eyes and your hands fell from your face. Nerves that claimed you melted into the floor of Peter’s new bedroom, leaving only the two of you, staring at each other. The corner of his mouth was quirked up in that infuriatingly charming half-smile he favored around you. How you had missed that smile. How you had missed him.

At the thought, your worry resurfaced. “Will we though?”

Peter cocked his head to the side. “Will we…what?”

“Have time?”

“What do you mean?” Peter’s hand fell from your arm, leaving you to face the chill your questioning created. With a small sigh, you summoned the courage to reply.

“This is the longest we’ve hung out in….in a while. I know you’re busy with Spiderman things, I get it, I do, but since Europe it’s like become ghosts to each other. Does…does that make any sense? I mean, I,” you swallowed hard and you met Peter’s eyes, “I miss you.”

Peter’s furrowed brows relaxed at those last three words. His hand reached out again, gently taking your hand. You glanced down at his fingers as his rubbed his thumb along your knuckles. The relationship you had with Peter had always been friendly and full of friendly touches. Though something about the tenderness of his hand on yours made your stomach twist. Not with nerves but a tickling sort of excitement.  

“I-I’ve miss you too, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” you said softly. Peter gave your hand a squeeze and gave you another one of his lopsided smiles. 

“We’ll make time for each other. And the uh, the project.”

“Okay,” you tried to match his smile. 

“Cool.”

A sweet silence filled the air. The ticklish twisting in your gut subsided, melted into the steady beating of your heart as you found yourself wholly entranced by the shine in Peter’s eyes. You had noticed it in Europe: the newness that surrounded Peter. He was braver than the boy you had grown up with before the Blip, but still himself. The time you had spent apart had made that all the more clear. That, and knowing his Spider-Man-sized secret.

“Y/N, there’s something that I’ve wanted to tel-”

Just as Peter was about to continue, his phone hummed with a loud alarm. The sound made you both jump, though Peter recovered quickly. He got to his feet and picked up the device from his bedside table.

“Oh crap,” he murmured. When he turned to face you, you were greeted with a frown and sorry eyes. Your heart sank at the sight.

“What is it?”

“I gotta patrol.”

“Oh,” you nodded sadly, looking around the room for your things; looking anywhere but at Peter. “Then I guess I better go.” 

A low, thoughtful hum filled your ears and coaxed you to peer back up at Peter. One of his hands scratched at the back of his neck, almost nervously. Despite his lips being pressed into a thin line, the glinting in his eyes told you there was something he wanted to say. 

“What?”

“I could…uh, give you a ride, kinda, sorta?” 

You raised your brows and widened your eyes. “You got a car?”

“What?! Oh! No, I mean,” Peter rushed over to his closet door and, with a quickness that was beyond human, pushed it open to reach inside. He pulled his arm back and revealed the device in his hands. “I got this. I could swing you home.”

“You…you mean…”

“Only if you want,” Peter raised his hands, “I know heights aren’t everyone’s favorite thing so-“

He was beginning to backpedal, to rescind his frightening yet exciting offer. Before he could, you swallowed the clot of fear that had caught in your throat and nodded. 

“Yes,” you gave him a smile, “yeah, a ride would be nice.”

“O-Okay! Great! Um, let me get ready.” 

Peter crouched suddenly and, in a flash, a white web shot out from the gadget in his hand. It reached under his bed and, when Peter pulled back on the sticky webbing, a suit of red and black landed in his grip. You blinked, your eyes flickering between the suit and Peter’s proud smile. His brown eyes seemed to shine under the light of your impressed expression.

“Wow. Now, you’re just showing off.”

 Peter let out a soft laugh and, with rosy cheeks, duck his head to hide his face. He nodded towards the floor and lifted his gaze to meet yours once more. Pink still dusted the peaks of his face. His fingers tightened around the material of his suit, a nervous squeeze that stole your attention away for a moment. When you looked back up at Peter, you saw that the shade of his blush had only deepened. 

“I need to…” he raised his suit in his hands and refused to hold your gaze. You had never seen Peter so bashful and– your mouth fell open with realization.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ll just grab my stuff and wait outside,” you said, bending down to pick up your things. Folders and papers slid from your fingers and into your bag in a rushed mess. Heat gathered in your cheeks, the burning of an embarrassed blush; similar, you imagined, to Peter’s. You didn’t want to give him the chance to see.

“Alright,” Peter coughed roughly to clear his throat, ideally the room, of the new, heavy tension within. “It’ll only be a second.”

“Cool, good,” you straightened your posture and threw you bag over your shoulder. In two paces, your hand was within reach of the door. Rustling of fabric reached your ears; Peter must have already started to change. Your heart pounded at the thought and you quickly closed your fingers around the bronze door handle. Without thinking, you stepped to the side to open it.

With the shift, you caught a glimpse of Peter’s bare back. Shaded and sloping valleys of flesh and muscle flashed before you vision. Scattered freckles dotted the skin of his shoulders, something you had never noticed before. It was something you wished you hadn’t noticed because it froze you in place. Eventually, you were overwhelmed by a new wave of heat that thawed you out. You tore your eyes away and pushed yourself through the door, slamming it when you had meant to shut it softly. 

Shit! Your head fell back and knocked against the wood of the door with a dull thud. Trembling, a small breath passed over your lips. Like your every nerve ending, it hummed around you, filled the air until all you felt was the wild thunderstorm of your heartbeat. 

“Y/N?”

Wide-eyed, you tilted your head back upright and locked eyes with Peter’s Aunt May. Her surprise melted into a wide grin and she stepped towards you, arms open. 

“It’s been so long!”

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered out. You leaned into her embrace, taking long, slow breaths as you did. Silently, you hoped May couldn’t feel the jack-hammer that had started to work in your chest. Also silently, you forced the image of a half-naked Peter, dressing paces behind you, from your mind. Breathing steadily became an easy feat by comparison.

“Peter mentioned you were his project partner,” May said, pulling away to look into your face. “I haven’t seen him so happy! And I haven’t seen you since you went to Europe!”

A blush spread along your cheeks at the mention of Peter happy to be working with you. It eased the lingering worry that worked i your gut. He had missed you too, he had said as much, but it was another thing to hear it from May. She beamed at you, undoubtedly noting the rush of blood that stained your cheeks in a flush. 

“Yeah, like you said, it’s been too long.” 

May squeezed your shoulder. “You should come over for dinner, like you used to! We still have pizza on Friday nights!”

“I would love that.” An instinctual smile spread along your lips. Parker Pizza Nights was a custom that you had helped shape when you and Peter were just kids. Now, nearly graduated, and one of you a superhero, it persisted. “I would really love that.”

“Great! And I have a feeling that-” May phone chirped loudly, pulling her attention towards the glowing screen that shone through the denim of her jeans. “Oh, jeez, that’s…wow it’s late! You kids were working hard, huh?”

You nodded as May slipped her phone back into her pocket. She glanced over your shoulder at Peter’s closed, bedroom door. One of her dark brows quirked up in question and you felt your chest tighten at the sight.

“Uh, Peter’s gonna walk me home. He’s-”

“Walk?”

You couldn’t meet May’s dark eyes. Lying to her was impossible. How had Peter managed to do it: hide Spider-Man from her? The eggshells he must walk on, or swing over.

“Y-Yeah. Just to the bus stop. It’s so dark.” May’s eyebrow lifted impossibly higher. You curled your fingers into a fist, letting the tips of your nails dig into the flesh of your palm. “So, how have you been, May? Pete said something about a boyfriend?”

May laughed and started to reply in the same instant you felt a sudden draft. You spun on your heels and found that Peter’s door was open. Stood in the entrance to his room was Spider-Man, Peter, masked up and ready to give you a lift home. His window was open, curtains billowing ever-so slightly in the night’s breeze. 

Your mouth fell open and you turned your head grew heavy with all the possible excuses you could make to May to cover for Peter’s little show. Though, when you turned around, May was smiling. Her brows were relaxed and she looked…clearheaded.

“Oh, he’s giving you a lift. That makes sense. Walking, ha,” she shook her head. “Be safe, kiddos. Alright? Good to see you, Y/N.”

May gave your shoulder another squeeze before making her way to her own room. You watched her disappear down the hall before you turned back to Peter.

“She knows?!”

“Y-Yeah! I didn’t…I didn’t tell you, did I?” You groaned and stepped back into his bedroom. In relief, you reached a hand out and pushed Peter’s shoulder. He didn’t budge.

“No, you didn’t! I thought I was going to have to explain your,” you let your eyes trail over Peter’s form. The red and dark fabric was so form-fitted. You could see every muscle in his slim frame. The very same muscles you had caught only a tempting glimpse of minutes before. His shoulders appeared broader, stronger than you remembered. Or maybe this was just your first time seeing this side of Peter fully fleshed out.

“Y/N?” He waved a gloved hand in front of your face. You shook your head and felt a rush of heat towards your cheeks. How long had you been staring?

“Sorry, I was, I was worried I was going to have to explain your costume.”

“Oh,” the white eyes of Peter’s suit seemed to shrink, focus in on you. “Yeah, well, she’s known for a while. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” you said, waving a hand at him. Warily, you stepped towards the open window and peered out into the dark that had fallen over Queens. “So, through the window?”

“Yup!”

“Won’t people see you come out of here and blow your cover?” Peter was silent and, for a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you. “Won’t it-”

“There’s no one around,” Peter clarified. He pointed a finger towards where his ears were tucked in his suit. “Spidey senses means spidey hearing.”

You raised a brow at him. “Spiders have good hearing?”

“I…actually, I don’t know,” he stepped past you and jumped to crouch on the window sill. He pushed the glass the rest of the way up and, in that moment, you saw that he had modified the window to be the perfect, and secret, gate-away spot. “You ready?”

A red hand reached out to you at Peter’s question. All at once, the disappointment of hearing Peter’s failure to mention you disappeared. Your heart lifted, swelled in your chest and, in a strange flood of bravery, you took his hand. With ease, he pulled you up on the window sill and to his chest. The close proximity knocked the air from your lungs.

“Alright so, uh, don’t let go.”

A breathy, near-silent laugh rumbled out of your throat. “Really? What do you take for, Parker? An idio-”

Gravity suddenly fell away and your stomach dropped out from under you like your window sill perch. The word died on your lips and morphed into a hit-pitched shriek as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears. Your hands curled into the fabric of Peter’s suit as you clung to him for dear life. To distract yourself from the coldness of air he was swinging you through, you focused on the warmth of Peter’s body.

“Just hold onto me!”

Every biting, mocking retort you had saved in your social memory bank lacked the nerve to be said. Vertigo and the awful thought of falling consumed you. Only Peter, despite being far from it spatially, was able to ground you. His right arm was wrapped around your waist like a flesh safety belt, anchoring you to him in such a way that, if you weren’t a few hundred feet above a busy street, would have made your stomach twist with excitement. 

“Scream louder if you want to land,” Peter shouted. 

Only his voice seemed to cut through the hollering air that whooshed by you. Air. You were basically flying. You screamed louder than when Peter first lept with you in his arms.

“Alright! Hold on! Hold on!”

Your scream shrank with the sound of the wind that roared in your ears. Aside from the warmth of Peter’s body pressed against yours, all you could feel was the rapid pace of your heart and, eventually, your toes hitting something solid. Even when the entire length and width of your sneaker rested against what you imagined was the ground, you kept yourself pressed into Peter. His arm remained around your waist, holding you close.

“You’re alright, I got you,” Peter murmured, his voice loud but soft in your ear. “I got you, I promise.”

Slowly, you lifted your head from Peter’s shoulder and peeled open your eyes. Tops of buildings were visible to you. Black in the darkness, the roofs of apartment glinted only in the changing colors of traffic signals. Red then green then yellow; multi-colored, urban fireflies.

Convenience store signs glowed bright, illuminating the streets that rested far below from where you stood. Neon signs flickered in the windows of a tattoo shop, nearly in-time with the drunken laughter that spilled out of the mouths of passersby on the sidewalk. From this high, the strangers looked small, like children. You glanced around and saw grey heating units, metal boxes fixed on cement around you. 

“Where are we?” Your voice felt small as you looked up at Peter. The white eyes of his mask were already focused on you. 

“Only a few blocks from your place,” the hand he had resting on your waist shifted, rubbing soothing circles into your side. “We can walk the rest of the way, if you want?”

“No,” you replied too quickly. You squeezed the material of Peter’s suit that your fingers still curled around. “I like this.”

“Yeah? It’s hard to tell with all the screaming,” Peter quipped. You shot him an unamused grimace and he laughed; the sound rumbled in his chest, vibrated against your own. “I like thistoo.”

Despite looking into the unreadable blankness of Peter’s mask, you felt a softness. When he didn’t move to continue swinging you home, you felt your chest tighten. The white material that covered his eyes grew larger then smaller, still trained on you. His hand stopped it’s comfort campaign against your back and instead opted to fall still.

“Are…are we talking about liking the same thing?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted and swallowed hard on the fear that was climbing up your throat. “I just know I’m happy that I don’t have to miss you anymore. That I know more about this guy,” you pinched the fabric of his suit. “Spider-Man.”

“Me too.” Peter’s voice was quiet as he replied. “I like being your partner.”

A small smile slipped onto your lips as you recalled what May had said. “Your project partner?”

“Yeah, your project partner, and well, I…” Peter trailed off, a few sounds of thoughtful filler floated around you as he struggled to find the words. His arms slipped from your waist as he gestured with his hands, explained to you that, after Europe, he was scared to put in harms way again. “I mean, it found me on vacation!”

“It?”

“Danger,” he sighed. “I don’t want to put my partner in danger like that again. I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“Partner?” You cocked your head slightly to the side. “You mean friend?” Peter stopped his pacing along the roof and lifted his still-masked face to your eyes. You didn’t have to ask him to lift his mask to know he was staring at you. His arms fell to his sides and the quiet balanced around you both was enough; though it confused you. “Peter?”

“My friend, yeah,” he started to close the gap that he had made between you, “but also, like…partner partner, if you’d want that? This, this isn’t how I imagined this going in my head.” Peter raised his hands and sandwiched his face between his palms. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Spider-Man, the hero of Queens, embarrassed. “Great, you’re laughing.”

“Not at you,” you said quickly, reaching your hands out to him. They shook slightly as you held Peter’s shoulders. So did your voice as you asked, “how did you imagine this going?”

“Well, I wanted to tell you in Europe. Paris maybe or in Big Ben, somewhere tall and romantic. But then…I didn’t tell you that and I told you about this.” He poked the spider emblem inlaid in the fabric on his chest. “And then we got back and I…now we’re here and-”

“Peter,” you whispered, a smile spreading along your face. He stopped rambling and the white eyes focused in on you. Wordlessly, you stepped closer to him and reached a hand up towards his face. With a new bravery guiding you, your finger tips found the end of his mask and began to lift. Peter didn’t stop you as you exposed his neck, his chin, and then his lips.

A shuddering breath passed through parted lips and, suddenly, he was just Peter again; your Peter, again. He was the boy you missed, the hero you had known him to be a kid playing with chalk on the sidewalk. Peter was the boy you loved trying to tell you that he loved you too in the most Peter-way how: on some roof in Queen, highlighted by the romantic glow of the streets below. Not quite how he imagined it but it was perfect for you.

So perfect that you weren’t scared when you leaned up towards him. You didn’t tremble as you placed your lips to his or when his hands gripped your waist. He pulled you to him, anchored you, once more, to his body. It was as if he were trying to keep you from floating away. As if he thought the kiss was not enough to keep you in place.

The kiss was certainly enough to convince you to keep sharing your space with him. Even when you pulled away, you did not go far. Only far enough to see the lazy smile on his lips as he said, “wow. That’s…just how I imagined it.”

A very rough cut of a Spider-Man 3 shit post I was inspired to do. Enjoy

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