Archive of Our Own

“This is a disaster, MJ.” Peter would have dramatically thrown himself across something for emphasis, but they were in a slightly crowded Starbucks and the only available space he had was the small coffee table between them which was currently holding their drinks. Peter may have perfected his dramatic bitch poses in Freshman year, but he wasn’t desperate enough to give himself third degree burns. Not yet at least.

"I fail to see the disaster, Peter.” MJ responded casually, picking up her pumpkin spice latte and taking a sip. Peter had commented exactly once on MJ’s love of holiday drinks and how it didn’t fit her general aesthetic. She had levelled him with such a dark look that Peter had sworn she had knocked a decade from his lifespan and promised himself to never mention it again.

"If I don’t come up with a hundred dollars in a week, I won’t be able to pay my Spring lab fees!” Peter told her, picking up his own latte – paid for by a generous feeling MJ - in order to gesticulate properly with. Hand motions were for small disasters only. This required full on gesticulations.

MJ continued to be callously unsympathetic. “Get more hours from the Flywheel then. Or the Attic.” Peter barely resisted rolling his eyes. The Flywheel was an overly trendy, overly priced Manhattan coffee shop where Peter spent early mornings giving mediocre triple shot expressos to harried interns and crazily sweet monstrosities to self-important socialites. Despite its relatively rich clientele, the pay was minimum wage and the tips were lousy. More problematic to Peter’s cash fund, his boss didn’t like working with a college student who could only work around his school schedule and frequently scheduled him for the shortest shifts possible and only called him in for extra shifts when he had no other choices. The Attic, on the other hand, was a tiny little bookshop where Peter worked on the weekends. He absolutely loved both the store and the owners, Hannah and Grace Winsen, and would have gladly spent his fall break working there, had he been able.

"I already tried but Mr. Harris already filled the extra shifts with his full-timers and Mrs. and Mrs. Winsen are closing the shop to visit their niece and her husband in England. They just had a baby and they always try to close the bookstore around the holidays anyway so that their employees can spend time with their families.” Peter explained before taking a deep drink of his coffee. The coffee at the campus Starbucks always tasted slightly burnt to him but at least he wasn’t at risk for pay docks if any of the beans fell onto the ground as he worked the grinder machine. Mrs. and Mrs. Winsen’s policy on the holidays was nice in theory, but it definitely didn’t help a poor college student pay rent and his school fees.

“Oh damn.” MJ responded, finally with a bit of sympathy in her voice. “Couldn’t you ask May for help?”

“I can’t. She already covers part of my tuition and gives me money for groceries, I’m not going to ask her for more than that. Besides, she’s finally going to take vacation days from the hospital and visit her grandmother in Sicily for two weeks. I don’t want her to worry about me making my fees while she’s taking her first real vacation in a decade.” His Aunt May and Uncle Ben had spent most of their lives skimping and saving for Peter’s college fund – his aunt had worked even harder after his uncle had passed – and he refused to take away anymore from her than he already had when he chose to go to the most expensive school in the city. Peter would find a way to pay his own fees, even if it potentially killed him.

“Hmm.” MJ stared at Peter over her coffee with a contemplative expression. “Setting aside your self-sacrificial tendencies for later, exactly how desperate are you for money?” Peter didn’t much like the tone in her voice. She sounded very much like she was planning something and MJ’s plans, although always memorable, did not tend to go well for Peter. He had a sealed juvenile record from when MJ had decided breaking into an abandoned hospital was the perfect Halloween activity and a thin white scar on his thigh from when he had to scale a fence to escape an irate security guard when MJ had coopted him into staging a prison break for the mice in the biochemistry labs their freshman year. MJ’s plans were always bad for Peter.

But he was also desperate.

Very desperate.

Very, very desperate.

He was going to regret this.

"What are you thinking?” He asked finally, setting his coffee down. Peter was all for dramatics, but he drew the line at actually spilling hot liquid on himself. It had happened before, after MJ had shared her ideas. “Please tell me it’s legal.” He added as an afterthought. MJ would never, of course, do something illegal-illegal, but she’d definitely toe the line for the right causes. Like ghosts and animal welfare.

“It’s legal. Technically. But a bit morally ambiguous.” MJ answered easily, a bit of a smirk curling her lips. “I’ve got a friend who’s in a bit of a holiday pickle.”

“You have another friend?” Peter wasn’t trying to be rude – well not entirely – it was just that MJ was a quiet, intensely private person who regularly admitted that she hated ninety-odd percent of the general population. They themselves were childhood friends– MJ’s aunt was Peter’s neighbor and May’s best friend and since MJ’s parents were frequently out of town doing who knows what who knows where, she had spent the vast majority of her childhood at her aunt’s apartment. Peter and MJ had grown up together playing make-belief on the tiny metal fire escape and sleuthing around the neighborhood and even as their interests drifted apart as they got older, they themselves never did. If MJ had someone else she considered an actual friend, Peter would have thought he’d known about it. He didn’t think she’d have ever bothered.

"Don’t be a dick. He’s a member of the Columbia Queer Alliance, which you’d know if you ever came with me.” Peter swallowed down the wave of guilt that came with MJ’s slight admonition. She had been trying to get him to join the alliance ever since she did their first week on campus but between his two jobs, his class schedule, and his involvement on the robotics team he simply didn’t have the time. “I actually think you’d get along really well with him because he’s a total fucking nerd too, but that’s beside the point. His name’s Ned and he brought up at the last meeting that he’s got some slightly homophobic, super judgy dick aunt visiting for the holidays and he really wanted to mess with her but wasn’t sure how.

"Okay…” Peter felt for Ned, but he didn’t really see how him having an awful aunt coming for the holidays ended with Peter getting paid. MJ, undoubtedly sensing his confusion, smirked. This definitely wasn’t going to bold well with Peter.

“Well, we all began shooting around ideas – Timothy suggested “accidentally” leaving Grindr open on Ned’s phone but Ned’s got little sisters and his mom’s super Catholic and although she’s cool with gay people, she’s pretty strict on extramarital sex so Ned didn’t want to freak any of them out. So then Cindy suggested making a fake boyfriend and talking about him over dinner.” Peter didn’t like where this was going. He didn’t like it at all. “But I suggested that he could do one better. He could bring a boy to dinner.” Peter really, really was not liking how this was going. “All the boys in the club had plans already, but we all helped Ned post an ad on one of those connections sites. He was complaining to me just the other day that he’s only had some creepy responses so far and I mentioned that I may have a friend who could help.”

Peter should have known MJ had an ulterior motive in inviting him out for coffee. He definitely should’ve known something was up when MJ paid for him and opened up the conversation to his financial woes. She had already had this planned. But he wasn’t about to let his friend offer him up to some random stranger “Absolutely not!”

“Why not?” MJ was still smirking, that little knowing smirk as though she knew she was going to get her way. It was the exact same look she had worn before convincing Peter to pick the locks on that hospital door all those years ago. He hated that look.

"Because I’m not a prostitute!” Peter’s voice went a little too loud and a few neighboring tables shot him a curious look. Peter did his best to ignore them, although his cheeks pinkened slightly. MJ just raised an eyebrow at him.

"One, there’s nothing wrong with prostitution by itself and the only reason it’s stigmatized is because assholes insist on punishing people for being openly sexual, especially women. Two, it’s not like you had any plans except crashing on my aunt’s sofa and eating all her good cheese. And three, he wouldn’t be paying you for sex. Just to be his date for the night. That’s more like an escort than anything, really.

“That doesn’t make it much better!”

“He’s willing to pay two hundred bucks, half upfront and half after. And you get a free meal.” MJ responded casually, taking another sip of her coffee.

Peter blinked at her. Then he blinked again. “Two hundred?” He couldn’t help the incredulity in his voice, even though he desperately still wanted to sound as though he wasn’t interested. That would pay for his fees and the good toilet paper for a month.

"His aunt’s a real bitch, apparently.” MJ shrugged as though calling a friend’s family member rude names was perfectly normal. If this other boy was willing to pay an exorbitant amount of money just to mess with her, it probably was. “Besides, Ned’s good people. He won’t do anything or ask you to do anything you wouldn’t be comfortable with. He’s even insisting on meeting with you – if you’re willing - beforehand to get to know you and to come up with some boundary lines. I wouldn’t have suggested you if I was worried he was just some creep.”

"Good to know you’ll only send me with the good johns,” Peter tried to add some consternation in his tone but knew he failed. It was good money and Peter trusted MJ enough to know that she really wouldn’t have given his name to someone she didn’t also trust.

“I’m a fair and careful madam,” she deadpanned and Peter couldn’t help but let out a little laugh, even if it sounded a bit nervous.

"I suppose there’s no harm in at least meeting him.” He said finally. Two hundred dollars was really too much to turn down. And how bad could it be, really?

The answer to Peter’s question, as he found out a few hours later sitting at the small bar MJ had led him to, was that it could be really, really bad.

Not because Ned was rude or condescending. Not because he was presumptive or pompous. Not because he was a total jerk. Peter could have handled any of that, easily. Peter dealt with a lot of entitled or jerkish people on the regular for his other jobs already.

No, it was not bad because Ned was a jerk, or an asshole, or a dick. But because he was the exact opposite. And that was the biggest problem of all.

Ned Leeds, as MJ introduced the dark-haired boy sitting at a corner booth of the tiny room before disappearing completely, was, by all appearances, a complete and utter sweetheart. Kind, considerate, and thoughtful. He had offered to buy Peter a drink before the other boy had even sat down and offered him some of the grease-stained nachos he had already ordered. And, even more offensively, he was cute, all warm brown eyes, bright grins and the softest hair Peter had ever seen. Even his skin was ridiculously soft, judging by the velvet warmth of the hand he offered Peter as he took his seat.

No, this situation was not going to go really bad because Ned Leeds was an awful jerk that Peter was going to have to force himself to associate with for a few hours for money. It was going to go really, really bad because Ned Leeds, all sunshine, warm smiles, and Star Wars references – he had a giant Death Star sticker with the words “my friends were on there!” printed on it across the top left of his laptop, for goodness’ sake - was just Peter’s type and he was going to have to force himself to pretend to be his boyfriend for a few hours for money.

Peter didn’t mind being a dramatic bitch when the time was right, but he absolutely hated being a cliché. And this whole situation was turning out to look as if it was taken verbatim from the cheesiest of stormpilot stories he would absolutely deny reading if anyone found them on his phone.

“So, MJ said you’re childhood friends?” Ned’s ridiculously unreasonably attractive – seriously this was becoming unfair – voice broke Peter from his reverie and he prayed his face didn’t look as warm as it felt.

“Umm, yeah. Her aunt and mine are good friends, so we saw a lot of each other. And you guys met at a Queer Alliance meeting, right?” Peter answered quickly, awkwardly fiddling with his fingers. What did people normally do with their hands? Peter suddenly couldn’t remember and he found himself wishing the water he’d asked for would come so that he had something to do with them.

“Yup.” There was a pause just long enough to be considered awkward before Ned spoke again. “MJ’s real cool. She’s pretty much essential for the club’s outreach on campus.” Peter, who knew that MJ’s outreach essentially consisted of papering every available wall with flyers detailing all sorts of facts about LGBTQ+ life and issues and shutting people down for homophobic  - as well as misogynistic, transphobic, and xenophobic - comments both in person and on social media, nodded.

“Yeah, she’s great. Real passionate too.” God, he sounded like an idiot. They were talking about his best friend and all he could contribute was that she was ‘great.’ This was a mess.

“Yeah…” another awkward pause, then Ned seemed to brighten up. “Did she tell you about this total jerk we met at the campus store when we were buying snacks for the outreach meeting?”

“Is he the one that was complaining about how gay men should only be allowed to use stalls in bathrooms because they might be perving on straight guys?” Peter asked, a bit of a smile on his face now. Ned grinned.

“And she told him no one wanted to see his little dick anyway!” Ned finished the story animatedly and Peter couldn’t help but laugh. MJ’s absolute zero tolerance for bullshit was near legendary status in their year, but there was something far better about commiserating with someone who actually knew MJ rather than seeing some random person quoting her on the Overheard Facebook page. “I was absolutely floored – this was only the second time I’d met MJ and the first time we’d been alone. I just thought she was this shy girl; I had no idea she was freaking savage!”

Peter laughed again. There was something admiring in Ned’s voice that Peter appreciated. A lot of people often expressed that they thought MJ was too much to Peter, as though as her best friend he had the desire and the ability to control her behavior in any way. Peter liked knowing that Ned didn’t seem to feel that same way about MJ.

"Yeah, she’s always been like that. She used to drag all the bullies in elementary school.” Peter had many fond memories of MJ, absolutely tiny back then, standing between him and some jerk kid, hands on her hips as she lectured them on the dangers of bullying. He had never had so fierce of a defender as MJ.

The waiter came with Peter’s water and the conversation halted as Peter thanked him. “Don’t you want anything to eat?” Ned asked as the waiter walked away without any further requests. Peter had already politely refused Ned’s offer of nachos, so the other boy must have assumed Peter was going to order something of his own. Peter felt himself flush slightly– he didn’t want to admit that he really couldn’t afford eating out right now, so he settled for the  most traditional of college excuses.

“Oh, I already ate at home.” It technically wasn’t a lie – Peter had made himself toast – the cheapest and easiest thing to make, as long as he remembered to put the old, cumbersome toaster he’d inherited from his aunt on its side so that the bread actually toasted evenly – just a few hours before. And he planned on eating one of his cups of ramen when he got back, so it wasn’t like he was going hungry by any means.

Ned seemed to catch on to the true reason for Peter’s hesitance, judging by the look of dawning guilt crossing his face. Luckily for Peter, the other boy was born with some modicum of tact because the expression was gone almost as fast as it came. “Gotcha. Well, if you get hungry again while we’re here, I’m not going to finish all of these.” He gestured towards the plate of nachos with a magnanimous hand. “And I highly doubt MJ’s going to come back anytime soon.” Peter, glad for the blatant offer to steer the conversation away from food, smiled.

“No. She probably brought a book or something to keep herself entertained while we talk.” As if on cue, both boys turned to the bar where – to absolutely no surprise – MJ had claimed a tall stool and was currently engrossed in a thick book, one hand outstretched to hold onto her vividly blue cocktail. “She hates awkward conversations” Peter added, turning back to Ned.

"You think our conversation is awkward?” Ned asked, the hint of a wry smile tugging at his lips. Peter’s eyes widened – he hadn’t realized how bad that would sound until it had already left his lips.

“No, not at all!” He was quick to say, gesturing widely with his hands and nearly knocking over his water. “It just could have been, you know? Not that I thought you’d be awkward, it’s just meeting new people, especially within these circumstances, can be a bit strange!” He was rambling and couldn’t get himself to stop. “Not that you’re strange at all! You’re actually quite nice –“ Where was MJ when he needed her? She was very good at stopping him from making an absolute fool of himself. He should’ve insisted that she stay at the table with them when he had first agreed to this, instead of just settling for her being in the same building.

“Peter, Peter, relax!” Ned looked as though he was on the verge of laughter, with only common courtesy keeping him from it, and there was a glint of humor in his eyes as he lifted his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I know what you meant. This definitely could be going a lot worse.” He grinned easily and Peter felt himself relax back into his seat. “It’s not the most normal way to meet someone, either which doesn’t help.” Ned added, easily steering their conversation back on track.

"Yeah, it’s definitely unique.” Peter offered a small of his own which turned into a wide grin as Ned let out a little laugh.

“Definitely not how I usually try to meet cute boys,” The other boy replied. Peter felt himself blush. Ned, one of the most adorable boys Peter had ever met, thought he was cute?

Peter was definitely going to be in trouble if this kept going the way it was.

It was just business, he had to remind himself. Ned was literally going to be paying for Peter to be his pretend date. He was probably just being extra nice because he really wanted this to work out – none of it was actually real. Maybe they could end up being friends afterwards, but there probably wouldn’t be anything more.

It wasn’t like Peter had time for anything more, anyway. Or even really a second friend, after MJ.

“Sorry,” Ned’s voice, suddenly a little unsure, broke Peter out of his reverie. He couldn’t help but blush as he realized he must have been staring down at the table for several seconds, allowing an awkward silence to break up their conversation. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Ned added and Peter was surprised at the sincerity and earnestness in the other boy’s voice. Most people who took the time to flirt with Peter never seemed to care whether or not he was comfortable with what they were doing. It had often put him in very awkward positions at work with overeager costumers who took Peter’s customer-service mandated politeness as a sign for something quite different. It was both endearing and comforting to see that Ned was genuinely someone who accepted boundaries.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable! I was just surprised. Really, it’s no problem.” Peter reassured him, hating that he had automatically adopted his customer-is-always-right-so-you-can’t-throw-a-book-at-their-head voice a little bit. Ned was better than that voice. “I should be getting used to comments like that anyway, right? For when I go to dinner with you.” He added, trying again for an easy smile. Ned just frowned a little more.

                “You don’t need to get used to comments of any sort for the dinner, Peter. I’m only going to do or say things that you are comfortable with.” Again, Peter was surprised at the empathetic, sincere tone in Ned’s voice. He really, truly seemed to be a great guy. Peter really hoped that they would become friends after this. “That’s why we’re here, in the first place after all.” Ned turned his laptop over, revealing a blank word document to Peter. “We’re going to go over everything and make sure it’s all aboveboard with the both of us. If you even agree to it in the first place,” There was that sudden note of uncertainty in Ned’s voice again. Peter had only heard it twice now but he already hated it. He was pretty sure he’d do just about anything to erase it entirely.

“I’ll do it.” He blurted out, hardly taking a second to think about it. Ned blinked at him in surprise.

“You will?” There was no denying the cautious hope in Ned’s voice and that was all it took for Peter to nod empathetically. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have been concerned at how suddenly and completely he would have done almost anything the other man asked him but thinking clearly in social situations had never been Peter’s strong point anyway. It was absolutely worth it anyway, to see the way Ned’s face broke open into a brilliant grin.

“Awesome! You’re literally a god send! Aunt Maria won’t know what to do,” Ned’s grin turned briefly mischievous as he undoubtedly imagined his aunt’s reaction to him bringing his “boyfriend Peter” to Thanksgiving dinner. Peter normally wouldn’t have ever even considered asking personal questions about a near stranger’s family, but given what he had just agreed to, he felt himself very much in the right to satiate some of his curiosity.

“What’s with your aunt, anyway? MJ said she’s –“ Peter stopped short of actually calling the woman names. He didn’t know her after all. Ned just smiled.

“A total homophobe? Yeah. Not like, violent or anything though –“ Ned added, as if he had just realized how bad that sounded. “I wouldn’t put you or anyone else in danger for something like this. She’s real low-key about it; my mother and father wouldn’t tolerate it if she was blatant. But she always makes sure to talk about how “loving the sinner, not the sin” is her favorite lesson when I’m around. Or she casually brings up all these nice Catholic girls she met close to my age, or talks about what a shame it would be for my mother not to have any grandchildren.” Peter winced in sympathy. Aunt Maria sounded like a piece of work.

“My mom’s always asking me not to get too upset or rise to her bait, because she’s my dad’s only sister and they’re really close but there’s only so much a guy can take, you know?” Ned sounded like he had been waiting awhile to vent about her and Peter found himself nodding along sympathetically, inwardly glad that his own aunt and uncle had been so welcoming when Peter had come out to him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle someone in his family saying such horrible things to him – or if he would have dealt with someone telling him to just put up with it, for that matter. “The real final straw was last month, though. She was staying at our house for my dad’s birthday and I overheard her on the phone talking to one of her friends back in the Philippines about how glad she was that I wasn’t bringing anyone around the house to meet the family because I’ve got two little sisters and it ‘wouldn’t be right for me to expose them to such things.’”

“Seriously?” Peter couldn’t help himself. He had, of course, heard more than his fair share of ignorant comments, but there was always something especially rankling about those types of comments. As though exposing children to same-sex relationships would somehow turn them gay. It was ridiculous and Peter hated them with a passion typically reserved for rude customers that didn’t tip and out-of-character fanfictions and fan theories.

“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it when I heard her say that. I love my sisters and I would never expose them to something actually bad for them and the thought that just being myself would be detrimental to them? I couldn’t even look at her at dinner.” The hurt in Ned’s voice as he recounted the incident, even a month later, was evident and Peter reached out and briefly placed his hand over Ned’s comfortingly. He remembered quite clearly how awful it had felt when his boss at the coffee shop made him take off his pride pin off his uniform shirt because it could ‘offend costumers.’ He couldn’t even imagine how much worse it would have been coming from family.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Ned. The other boy gave him a brittle smile.

“Thanks. It just sucks, you know? And I know it’s petty to want to get back at her, but I want to do something and I figured even if bringing a boy over wouldn’t show her there’s nothing with being gay, at least I could make her feel a little uncomfortable. And get my mom off my back about meeting a nice boy. Even if it’s totally not real!” Ned hurried to add the last bit, and Peter couldn’t help but smile as the slight nervous tone in his voice broke through the heavy feeling that had settled onto them.

“Dude, I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend ever. Your aunt will hate me and your mother will love me!” Peter vowed, a bright smile on his face. Ned grinned back.

“My mother will love you, huh?” He replied, a lightly teasing tone in his voice now. Peter was glad to see that there was no longer even a hint of melancholy on his face and he couldn’t help but go along with it.

“Your mother will be so charmed she’ll start planning the wedding by the end of the night or your money back, guaranteed!” He threw in an obviously exaggerated wink for good measure and Ned laughed loudly. He had a beautiful, infectious laugh and Peter couldn’t help but join in.

That was how MJ  found them a minute later when she had finally put her book down to check on them – sitting at the table with their heads thrown back, hands still lightly touching across the table, giggling hard enough to bring tears to their own eyes. Both of the boys were too busy to notice her come up. They did not notice her smirk knowingly at them before slinking back to her chair, satisfied. And they definitely didn’t notice her pull out her phone to send a text to her own aunt telling her not to plan an extra seat at the table for Peter that year.

Thanksgiving was definitely going to be interesting, this year.

The week between their first meeting and Thanksgiving Day passed in a blur for Peter. Ned and he had exchanged phone numbers and there had been a flurry of texts and calls back and forth between the two boys. They had been mostly business at first – finalizing the ground rules they had established at the bar as well as adding on a few they had missed – but they had quickly evolved into other topics. Peter had discovered that Ned was not only a Star Wars nerd but that he also liked the same types of books as Peter – he could quote Harry Potter and Game of Thrones with a pinpoint accuracy rarely seen – and the same television shows – Peter had never thought he’d meet someone else who could reenact the entire last season of How I Met Your Mother using only gifs but he now had it immortalized in his messages.

He’d also learned that the other boy was beyond smart and that he wanted to go into computer engineering after graduation, just like his father had. He’d learned that Tagalog was Ned’s first language and also the language he spoke at home – he’d even sent him a few basic phrases to learn so that he could impress Ned’s parents at dinner. He’d learned that Ned’s little sisters were seven-year-old twins. He’d learned that their full names were Eleanor and Emmeline but everyone in the family called them Nellie and Nemmie because some half-joking comment made by Ned that since all three of them had full names starting with ‘E’, their nicknames should begin with ‘N’ years ago.

He’d learned that Ned absolutely adored the two of them and unabashedly doted on them, even at the expense of his own hands when they decided they wanted to play with nail polish and needed a test subject. He’d learned that Ned was uneasy around dogs after a run-in with an unfriendly mastiff as a small child but that he loved cats, especially his family’s tiny Siamese, Pigwidgeon. He’d learned that Thanksgiving was Ned’s favorite holiday since he’d been little because family members all over the United States and even some back in the Philippines came to visit and it was the only time he got to see all of them.

He’d learned that Ned’s family was huge and their small family home in Forest Hills was always absolutely packed at the holidays. He’d learned that, excluding his Aunt Maria, almost everyone else in the family supported Ned and were incredibly excited to meet “Ned’s boy,” which was what they’d dubbed Peter the moment Ned had confirmed he would be bringing someone home for the holiday.

Peter had shared his own information, as well. He had told Ned all about growing up with a Jewish uncle and a Catholic aunt. He’d given lengthy explanations about Hanukah and Yom Kippur and what it was like to have had a bar mitzah as well as a first communion celebration. He talked about how he’d learned Spanish alongside MJ at the knees of their elderly, kind downstairs neighbor who used to watch them on Friday evenings. He’d told him that he had a small black dog named Wednesday when he was little but couldn’t get a new one after him and his aunt had moved into a smaller apartment his Sophomore year of high school.

He’d told him what it was like being an only child and yet not, because MJ had been around for as long as he could remember – even before he’d started school – and she was far more like an annoying twin sister than a best friend. He’d told him about how Peter and her had come up with the nickname MJ themselves because Peter couldn’t pronounce the double L in her first name and she point-blank refused any other nicknames. He’d told him how MJ had been the first person he came out to and the only one who knew all about the various boys and girls he’d crushed on over the years.

He told him about how MJ had instituted “Bitching Days” after his high school boyfriend had broken up with him which had consisted of cramming together on his old twin sized bed in their most ratty pajamas and complaining about boys and girls while they did each other’s nails, watched the Star Wars series on repeat, and scarfed down enough food to make themselves sick. He even told him that they still did it once a month although it now had evolved to them sitting on either Peter’s or her old couch and complaining about life in general while they used rejuvenating face masks. He even told him about how his fingers always still ended up painted some random color, although he himself had been banned from doing MJ’s after one too many nail polish mishaps.

Peter knew that on a base level, it simply made good sense to share all this information with each other. After all, if Peter was going to successfully pull off what he was being paid for, they would need to be able to convincingly act like boyfriend and boyfriend. But even though he knew that it was all for the show, Peter couldn’t help but be drawn to Ned in a way that he really shouldn’t allow himself to. Ned was witty, excitable, kind, funny, and smart. He could go toe-to-toe with Peter on any sorts of trivia, he could quote entire book and tv scenes with accuracy and finesse - his rendition of Leslie Knope’s infamous “We Didn’t Start the Fire” scene, performed one very late night when they had video called, had Peter laughing so hard he’d fallen out of his desk chair and woken up his irate roommate.

He not only listened when Peter gushed about science but understood it too. He could debate the merits and future implications Tony Stark’s energy-reactor with knowledge and passion that matched Peter’s own. His knowledge of computers and how they worked far surpassed Peter’s own and he could easily listen to the other boy’s tangents about why Stark Industries had the best computers, cell-phones, and the tablets and why Hammer’s Tech only belonged in the trash for hours – as he had done so one memorable late-night call they’d had just the day after they’d first met.

Peter had always thought himself a fairly rational person – sure, he was prone to excitability and he was – to quote MJ – “far too idealistic and optimistic for this dumpster-fire of a world”, but he would like to think that, overall, he was a down-to-Earth and realistic person. He didn’t go on wild trips to “explore the world” because he knew that he had to be cautious about his money; he didn’t go on dates with any of the boys or girls that flirted with him at his jobs because his aunt and uncle had instilled with him a deep-seated caution about seeing people he hardly knew and he didn’t believe in love at first sight, despite the pick-up lines many boys tried to use that said the contrary. He hardly even went on dates with the other people in his classes that he did know because he knew he didn’t really have the time at this point in his life and he only put the effort in if it was someone he legitimately liked and thought he could have a relationship with – a grand total of two people throughout his entire high school and undergraduate career.

Peter was, by all intents and purposes, a fairly level-minded, rational person – especially when it came to dating and relationships. He knew that – regardless of the many, many stories he read and all the romcoms he and MJ binge-watched on Valentine’s - attraction could be instant but affection and love took time. He knew that relationships – particularly long-term and meaningful ones – took effort even if the couple was in love. He knew that successful relationships had to be built on a foundation of honesty and trust, not lies or omissions.

Peter knew all of that and was completely no-nonsense when it came to dating. And yet –

And yet there was no denying that he was falling stupidly fast and ridiculously hard for the totally nerdy and absolutely adorable Ned Leeds. A boy who he’d met only a week ago. A boy who he’d only met because said boy needed to pull off an elaborate ruse to irritate a rude family member. A boy who was paying him a decent amount of money to come to his house and lie to his entire family. A boy who –

was knocking on his apartment door softly while Peter sat on his old, battered couch in bright pink Hello Kitty pajama pants and an oversized “I Survived My Trip to NYC” shirt contemplating the entire mess their situation had become while stuffing himself on off-off-brand cocoa puffs and one-day expired milk. “Shit!” Peter hissed as he hurried to set his bowl on the table and grab at his cellphone. Ned was supposed to come by at about eleven to pick Peter up and for a brief, horrified moment Peter thought he must have vastly overslept without realizing – it had happened before - but a quick check of the time on his phone as he stood up proved his worries wrong. It was barely past nine.

Ned – Peter was still pretty sure it was Ned, even though he was two hours early because there was literally no one else who would be at his door Thanksgiving Day– was still knocking on the door so Peter hastily shoved his confusion aside, ran a hand over his hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame his sleep-mused curls, and sprinted to the door. “Coming!” He called as he reached the door, taking just a second to look out the peephole and confirm that it was indeed a surprisingly well-dressed Ned waiting outside his door before he slid back the deadbolt and unlocked the door. “Hey!” Peter tried for nonchalant as he swung the door open but knew he failed when his voice came out breathless and a little squeaky. Ned smiled back at him, although he seemed a little self-conscious.

“Hey! Sorry I’m early –“ Ned made no attempt to enter Peter’s apartment as he spoke, which Peter heavily appreciated – he’d known several people who had just barged in the moment the door was open, not one of whom had been invited back, “-but when my mom heard you were spending Thanksgiving morning alone, just waiting for me to come get you, she kind of flipped. And since I couldn’t really give her a good reason about why you weren’t just coming over early, she kind of sort of kicked me out of the house until I came back with you. Again, sorry. But on the plus side I brought peace-offering pastries!” Ned seemed incredibly nervous as he held up a small paper bag in his hand and Peter couldn’t help but smile in both amusement and relief as he stepped aside and gestured for the other boy to come in. He had been a little worried that Ned was coming to cancel the whole thing.

He refused to think about how sad he would have been if Ned had cancelled their non-date date as he followed the other boy into the living room after relocking his door. “I don’t mind. My aunt’s the same way. MJ pretty much had a standing seat at our dinner table every night.” Peter tried not to feel super self-conscious as he gestured for Ned to take a seat on the worn-down couch.

 It wasn’t like his apartment was overly messy but he was suddenly all too aware that he hadn’t put the dishes in the dish rack away in about a week, his roommate had gone back home for the holidays without taking the garbage or recycling out. Again. And the couch that Ned was carefully setting himself, a hand me down from Aunt May, had definitely seen better days. The floral pattern was worn to the point of being nearly indecipherable and a large, hastily stitched up rip on the back was currently being covered by an old, misshapen quilt he and his aunt had made together one winter in middle school. And his bowl of cereal was currently sitting precariously on the beaten down coffee table, a small ring of spilled milk puddling around it. And of course, there was him, still in his pajamas with his hair a floppy mess and his teeth not yet brushed. Not exactly the winning appearance of someone one would give two hundred dollars to for a date.

Ned, in contrast, was dressed in khaki slacks and a very soft looking maroon sweater with the collar of a white button down neatly pressed down on top. Apparently, the Leeds did not do casual Thanksgiving like the Parkers. Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever wore khakis to a holiday at his aunt’s apartment.

“It’s a nice apartment,” Ned said finally, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen onto them as he hooked his ankles across each other. That was a pretty blatant lie – Peter couldn’t afford anything that remotely qualified as a “nice” apartment, although he had done his best to make the tiny space feel like a home. It would have done nothing but make the situation far more awkward to admit that, so Peter just nodded.

“Thanks.” He briefly thought about sitting next to Ned but quickly changed his mind. Ned wasn’t here just to hang out; his mother had made him come collect Peter and any more time they spent at his place was more time Ned wasn’t around his family. “I’m just going to go…” Peter twirled his hands together nervously before pointing towards the tiny hall that led to the two bedrooms and shared bathroom. “get ready.” He finished finally; his face uncomfortably warm. It had hit him, just then, that he had never had a boy or a girl that he was remotely interested in over to his apartment. At least, not alone. Even Blaise, his short-term boyfriend back in Freshman year, always waited outside Peter’s dorm room when they went on dates, unless MJ or Peter’s roommate was over. It was one of several reasons they hadn’t worked out, in the long run.

Not that Peter thought anything would happen, of course. Ned may have become almost like a friend to Peter after their week of nearly constant conversation but there was no way they would ever be more than that. Ned was literally paying him to pretend to be his date; there was nothing less romantic than that. Knowing that didn’t change the fact that Peter needed to take a shower while a cute boy sat in his living room just a few feet away. “Give me half an hour.” He said hastily before that particular train of thought could continue, his cheeks darkening despite his best efforts. “Remote’s on the table if you want to watch anything,” he added, already heading towards the hallway swiftly before Ned could see how red his face had gotten, “my roommate Sophie's parents got her a smart TV for her birthday and she never logs out of anything so you can watch anything Hulu or Netflix!”

He didn’t wait for Ned’s response as he practically yelled out the rest of his sentence before closing his bedroom door with a louder-than-intended slam. He cringed at himself the moment the door was closed. That was an absolute disaster – if it was any indication for how the rest of the day was about to go, Peter was going to end up owing Ned money. And several apologies.

Peter shook his head vigorously, trying to chase away his embarrassment. He had only given himself thirty minutes for the express purpose of not being able to wallow in his shame. There was no way he was going to take more time than necessary when he knew Ned was being kept away from his family. He hurried over to his closet. He didn’t have very many nice clothes but he grabbed his one clean pair of black slacks, running a hand over the left inseam to make sure that the sewn split was still holding up, his least pilled sweater, a soft creme one Aunt May bought him last Hanukkah/Christmas, and – for just a touch of personality – his favorite navy button down that had a pattern of tiny white cats all over it. MJ had given it to him as a graduation present and it had since become his professional good-luck shirt. He had worn it to both his interviews at the Flywheel and the Attic and if it could get him both those jobs, he was certain it could get him through this fake date unscathed.

Peter gathered all his clothes, being careful not to let any of it wrinkle, and quickly made his way to the bathroom. He forced himself not to think about Ned sitting just a few feet away and made quick work of stripping down and turning the shower on. He didn’t have time to let the water heat up – the pipes were old and often took several minutes to warm up past glacial temperatures – so he took a deep breath before quickly stepping into the shower.

It felt like getting hit with ice but at least it was an incentive to not dally. By the time he had finished rinsing the conditioner from his hair and reached out to turn the water off, it had barely reached lukewarm temperatures. He shivered as he stepped out and made quick work of drying himself off  and even quicker work at dressing. Then he rushed through brushing his teeth and washing his face before attempting to calm down his hair with a comb and a generous amount of his special occasion hair gel. It mostly worked and, after a quick glance in the mirror, Peter had to admit that he looked better than he usually did when he left the apartment. Hopefully it was enough to pass muster in the Leeds household.

Peter knew that if he stayed too long in the bathroom, he would begin overthinking everything, which was the last thing he wanted. This was, by all intents and purposes, just a job and Peter was, if nothing else, very hardworking. He could do this just as well as he made steaming espressos and towering book displays. He could do it even with the bit of a crush on Ned he had. At least if he got distracted by how incredibly good maroon looked against Ned’s dark skin, it would add to the idea they were trying to sell. And if he became a blushing mess just because Ned smiled at him with his warm eyes shining –

No. Now was not the time for those kinds of thoughts. Peter shook his head slightly before he turned to leave the room. The apartment was quiet outside of the bathroom. It was almost enough to make Peter think Ned had already left or maybe had been a stress-fueled hallucination but when he walked into the living room, he could see Ned sitting patiently on the couch, his head bowed over his cellphone. “Hey,” Peter called out. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else to say.

Ned didn’t seem to mind as he offered Peter a tentative smile as he looked up. For a split second, the other boy appeared caught-off-guard by Peter’s appearance – perhaps Peter’s shirt was a bit much? The cats were quite tiny and could be mistaken as dots from a distance and Peter had thought it was a subtle inclusion but Ned could easily have disagreed. Perhaps his family only did serious attire for the holidays – MJ’s parents were that way, the few times they had been in town for the holidays. Peter had never been to a more uncomfortable Christmas dinner than the one time he and his family had been invited over to the Jones’s in sixth grade.

The surprised look on Ned’s face faded quickly though, and then he was smiling widely as he stood up. “Are those cats on your collar?” He sounded positively delighted as he walked towards Peter to take a closer look at his shirt. Peter couldn’t help but smile, relieved, even as he blushed a little self-consciously.

“Yeah. It’s my lucky shirt.” Why did he admit that? He hadn’t meant to admit that. His blush darkened as Ned raised a hand to gently run a finger over the collar. His hand was close enough that Peter could feel its warmth against his neck and he sent several silent prayers that his blush wasn’t as deep as it felt.

“That’s super cute,” Ned said, his fingers lingering for a moment on the end of the collar. Peter was pretty sure he was talking about the shirt although there was something in Ned’s tone that implied he wasn’t just talking about Peter’s attire. He offered Ned another smile.

“Thanks!” He said, resisting the urge to rub a hand against the back of his neck self-consciously. “I just have to grab my wallet and phone and then I’ll be ready whenever,” he added. His words seemed to break the strange air around them and Ned took a half step back, removing his hand from Peter, looking suddenly self-conscious. He cleared his throat a bit.

“Um, yeah.” He sounded a little off-kilter although Peter couldn’t imagine why. “My mom actually just texted wondering where we were. I told her you had to finish getting ready but if we’re here any longer, she’ll start assuming the worst.” Ned’s voice gained more confidence the more he spoke and a small, slightly shy, smile was spreading across his lips. Peter wasn’t sure what “the worst” was in Mrs. Leeds’ mind but he didn’t think it would be a good first impression, either way. “Maybe we could eat the peace-pastries on our way?” He gestured back to the small paper bag that had been left abandoned on the coffee table. Peter had forgotten all about them and his half-finished bowl of cereal but his stomach certainly hadn’t. It grumbled audibly at the thought of the sugary deliciousness waiting for him. He blushed again as he made his way forward.

“Sounds good! Let me just rinse my bowl and get my things.” He said, quickly grabbing the bowl in one hand and scooping up his wallet and phone from the table in the other. His kitchen was more of a kitchenette situated in one corner of the living space and it only took a few quick seconds to reach the sink and dump the soggy rainbow mess his off-brand fruity pebbles had become, cringing inwardly at the thought of wasting food.

He took an extra moment to quickly run the garbage disposal before turning back to Ned. The other boy had picked up his bag and moved towards the door, obviously waiting for Peter. Peter offered him yet another smile, tinged slightly with awkward self-consciousness, and gestured for him to leave out the door before him. He followed him out quickly before pausing to pull out his keys from his wallet – he knew it wasn’t the safest place for them, what with pickpockets and petty thieves all throughout the city, but it hadn’t come back to bite him yet and he had no other better place to keep them – and lock the front door.

His hand was shaking slightly with nerves as he twisted the key. No matter how much information Ned had plied him with, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he had no idea what he was getting himself into. He just hoped the money would be worth whatever he was about to be put through. Possibly including the inevitable heartbreak he was going to go through when he returned home with no reason to hang out with Ned anymore.

Peter chased the thoughts away with a small shake of his head before turning away from the door, slipping the key back into his wallet. He couldn’t be looking morose the entire time, or the Leeds wouldn’t buy that they were a happy couple. And there was no reason for such dramatics anyway; Ned was friends with MJ and Peter was certain he would see him again after this. In passing, at the very least.

“Ready to go?” Ned asked and Peter nodded. “Awesome! I’m only one Subway stop away so we should get their pretty quick,” he said as they began walking down the hall. Peter’s apartment didn’t have a functioning elevator but he was fortunate enough to only live on the second floor so their walk was short. As they headed out the front door, Ned handed him his bag. “Here, eat before my mom finds out you didn’t finish your breakfast and skins us both alive.”

“Would she really?” Peter asked conversationally as he obediently took the bag. Now that they were out of his private space, he felt himself settling into a nice rhythm with Ned. He even felt comfortable enough to let out a small gasp of delight as he opened the bag to reveal two large, slightly squished cinnamon rolls smothered in glaze.

“MJ said they were your favorite. From the Cornerstone and everything” Ned told him. His voice sounded a little odd for a moment but Peter didn’t pay it any mind as he eagerly grabbed one of the rolls, not caring about the sticky mess the glaze would leave on his hands . The Cornerstone was his and May’s go-to bakery and he felt ridiculously pleased at the fact that Ned had cared enough to ask MJ about it. “They didn’t have any boxes left so there a bit messy.” The odd tone in Ned’s voice was replaced by amusement as Peter took a too-large bite, smearing a bit of the glaze across his lips. He licked it off, savoring the way the sugary icing played off the warm cinnamon.

“Don’t worry, it’s worth it!” Peter told him, not even noticing the way Ned’s gaze dropped briefly to his lips and then quickly away. “Here, try yours!” Peter offered the bag back to Ned. The other boy took it and obediently ripped off a piece of the cinnamon roll.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing.” Ned sounded awed as he ripped off another piece and Peter couldn’t help but laugh around his own roll. Utter awe was the only correct response when it came to fresh cinnamon rolls from the Cornerstone, in Peter’s totally unbiased opinion.

“Right?” Peter grinned at him over his own roll. They went down the road in silence, each concentrating far too much on their pastries to continue the conversation. By the time they had reached their subway stop, Peter was chewing his last bite and idly wondering how he was going to clean the mess off his fingers before he had to swipe his metro card. Ned had seemingly come prepared because just as soon as Peter began seriously considering licking the icing off his fingers, the other boy was holding out a small foil packet towards him.

“Always be prepared!” Ned said with an amused smile as Peter plucked the packet from his hands. Peter had never met anyone who carried disposal towelettes in their pockets, but he had to admit he was mildly impressed at the forethought. He was doubly impressed when Ned immediately put his hand back in his pocket and pulled out another to wipe his own fingers with.

“Were you a boy scout?” Peter asked curiously as they made their way down the concrete steps leading to the train. Ned snorted.

“For about a month in fifth grade.” He admitted as they both made their way to the turnstiles. It was early enough that not many people were hanging around the station, so it was easy to carry on their conversation.

“Only a month?” Peter asked as he pulled out his card and swiped himself through the gate. Ned did the same in the turnstile next to him, and then replied.

“Yep. I begged my mom to let me join and promised her I’d stick with it if she bought me all the stuff and then I only lasted through the first camp out. Turns out it was less the great outdoors that caught my interest and more the cute boy that lived next door who was always wearing his uniform.” Ned grinned as Peter burst out laughing. He could just see tiny fifth grade Ned begging a dark-haired woman to let him join the Scouts. It was an incredibly cute image. “Yeah, she wasn’t too happy when I came home and said I didn’t want to do it anymore. She made me go and find someone to buy my uniform and all the supplies my parents bought and withheld my allowance to pay for the stuff I couldn’t sell.” Ned reminisced fondly as they moved to stand beside a pillar, waiting for the train to arrive.
Were you ever a scout?” He asked Peter, leaning casually against the pillar. Peter vehemently shook his head.

“Absolutely not. I wanted to join the cub scouts for a minute in elementary school but then I found out MJ couldn’t join because she was a girl and I thought that was stupid and changed my mind. We started going to the after-school science club instead and I never looked back.” Peter smiled fondly at the memories of Ms. Betzler, always in some sort of science-related dress, animatedly going over whatever new experiment she had concocted for all five of the students in her club. She had been a real-life version of Ms. Frizzle and Peter still occasionally sent her updates on his life.

“That’s adorable. You didn’t question the fact that it was called “boy scouts?”” There was amusement in Ned’s voice and Peter grinned even as he blushed a little.

“I didn’t really think about those kinds of things, back then. The uniforms looked cool and I had always enjoyed playing outside with MJ, which was pretty much all I cared about. My aunt and uncle were both very chill about gender identity so I never was really exposed to “boy” things and “girl” things until I started school anyway. There was just kid stuff and adult stuff. I used to beg my aunt and uncle for Barbie doll clothes for my action figures because I thought the bright colors were more superhero-y than what they came with.”

“That’s literally the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Ned told him, grinning brightly. Peter blushed, strangely pleased. He liked it when Ned called him cute, even though he knew the other boy didn’t necessarily mean it in the way Peter wanted. He didn’t often share stories of his childhood with people he didn’t know very well but it had felt nice to exchange stories with Ned over the phone and it was even better in person.

They continued exchanging stories about their childhood as they waited for the train to come. Once it arrived, they easily managed to find seats together in the half empty car. There Ned regaled Peter with the horror story that was his first middle school dance, complete with dramatic pauses and emphasizing arm circles and by the time the train came to their stop, Peter and Ned both were doubled over with laughter and nearly missed it. Peter could hardly breath as they stumbled, they way out of the doors at the last minute but he didn’t mind.

It was easy to be around Ned. Dangerously easy.  The fact that this was all pretend was slipping further and further from Peter’s mind. He couldn’t bring himself to worry about it when Ned’s dark eyes were shining with mirth and his mouth was open wide with the most beautiful laugh Peter had ever heard. It would be a problem for later Peter.

The walk from the Subway stop and Ned’s childhood home was short and the boys had laughed almost the entire way. There had been several moments when the fits seemed to have calmed but all it took was one look at the other boy to set them off again and they spent the majority of the walk leaning on each other as they giggled uncontrollably. It wasn’t until they turned onto Ned’s street that they finally calmed down and Peter’s amusement was replaced with barely controlled nerves.

It was ridiculous to be nervous – it wasn’t like any of it had any real ramifications. He and Ned weren’t dating; it didn’t matter if his family actually liked him. And he already knew at least one of them – the dreaded and dreadful Aunt Maria – wasn’t going to. He really didn’t have to worry about their impressions of him – apart from the fact that he had promised Ned to be charming and he had always had the unfortunate need of being liked. And then there was the fact that, regardless of if the Leeds liked him or not, he was going to be spending the entire day around them. And he also really liked Ned and he didn’t want to ruin his favorite holiday by being a mess around his family –

“You ready?” Ned’s warm voice broke through Peter’s spiraling thoughts and he turned to look briefly at the other boy. Ned was still wearing a smile, but it had softened back into a slightly self-conscious quirk of his lips. Peter could see the hesitancy on the other boy’s face and he was glad – probably not for the last time – for the openness of the other boy. If Peter did do anything wrong, he was fairly certain he could trust Ned to help him out. It was strange to put so much faith in someone he’d only known for a week, but there was something about Ned Leeds that absolutely screamed “trust me.”

“A little nervous,” Peter admitted without hesitation. There was no point in lying about it – he was about to enter a house in which he would be lying to every single person except one. He would probably lose it all if he didn’t confide at least a little in that one person.

“Not too late to back out,” Ned told him immediately. Peter could tell from the look in his eyes that he was dead serious – Ned had been adamant that Peter could back out whenever he wanted from the beginning with no hard feelings. Peter didn’t know if the other boy had caught on to it or not, but the more Ned offered him an out, the more determined he was to stick it out. If the money wasn’t convincing enough, the very idea of letting down Ned would keep him where he needed to be, no matter what.

“That’s okay. Through thick and thin, right?” Peter tried for a bit of lightness in his voice. It evidently worked as Ned let out a small laugh before reaching out and gently taking a hold of Peter’s hand. Hand-holding was one of the expressions of affection both boys had deemed acceptable but the sudden, unexpected feeling of Ned’s fingers intertwining with his nearly made Peter jump. He hadn’t expected Ned’s hands to fit so well over his, or for the warmth to send pleasant shivers down his back.

“Through thick and thin,” Ned repeated softly and for a split second there was something in his expression that made Peter feel that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t feeling – whatever he was feeling - this alone. But it was gone as quick as it came and Ned’s expression turned mischievous as he added teasingly, “just maybe don’t say that in front of my mom. Although I have no doubt about your charming abilities, I don’t really want her planning our wedding.”

“Yeah, wedding plans always seemed like something a couple should do together,” Peter replied, his own mischievous smile blooming on his lips. Ned let out a bark of surprised laughter as he gently tugged on Peter’s hand to get him moving again. Peter hadn’t even realized they had come to a stop at the corner of Ned’s street.

“I’m good with anything as long as we have some sort of chocolate in our cake and no roses in the floral arrangements.” He responded immediately as he led Peter down the street. Peter was a little surprised at how quickly he had come up with his reply, but he wasn’t one to back down.

“Obviously chocolate. And I want sunflowers, anyway.” He answered readily enough, his own amusement clear in his voice. Perhaps it was odd to plan a nonexistent wedding while on your first fake date with a boy, but neither boy seemed to care.

“Our colors should be something dramatic. Do you think rainbow everything is too much?”

“Maybe a bit. What about blue, pink, and purple for the general colors, but with surprise rainbows everywhere. Like the cake could be one of those ones where they dye every layer a different color?”

“A surprise rainbow cake would be absolutely amazing! Like can you imagine a super traditional looking wedding cake with all white frosting and those fancy roses and lacework people can do and then bam! You open it and it’s a freaking rainbow!”

“Yes! But our wedding topper has to be Star Wars related. We could do Luke and the boyfriend he always deserved.”

“I’ll allow it only if we write the place cards in a Lord of the Rings font.”

So busy in their pretend plans on what would probably be the wildest of weddings, Peter hardly had time to be nervous as Ned turned them left off the street and towards a small, well-kept two-story house. So busy laughing as they continued adding more and more ridiculous additions – they didn’t need to compose two wedding playlists, one comprised only of LGBT-themed songs or LGBT artists and the other strictly Harry Potter fan music, but honestly what else would they do? – Peter hardly noticed how they had stopped just short of the front door and he definitely didn’t notice the multiple pairs of overly curious eyes peeking at them from behind the curtains of the front windows. And he absolutely missed the appraising murmurs of Ned’s family as they took in the sight of the two young men holding each other’s hands and laughing carelessly.

He did not, however, miss the door suddenly banging open, surprising both boys away from their conversation. A small, plump woman in a deep purple dress was standing in the doorway, smiling widely as she gestured at them both. “It’s about time! I was beginning to think you got lost!” She teasingly chided, her voice softly accented. She had the same smile as Ned and Peter realized a bit belatedly that she must have been his mother. “Come in, come in! Before you catch your deaths in the cold!” She moved aside and gestured empathetically for the boys to step in. It hadn’t seemed very cold outside, at least for late November, but the warmth of the house was surprisingly welcome. They were standing in a small entrance way, nicely lit through two windows on either side of the door. To one side, a narrow stairway flanked with numerous photos snaked up the wall while the other side consisted of a hallway. Judging by the cacophony of conversations, occasionally broken by laughter, and softly playing music, Peter assumed it led to the living room.

“You must be Peter! Ned has told me not nearly enough about you!” Mrs. Leeds drew Peter’s attention back to her and he sheepishly offered her a smile, slightly embarrassed that he had spaced out in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He went to offer her his hand and blushed when he realized he was still holding Ned’s. Mrs. Leeds’ smile seemed to grow as he hastily dropped her son’s hand and took hers instead. “It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Leeds. You have a wonderful home,” he told her, firmly shaking her hand. Uncle Ben and Aunt May both had instilled in him all the ways he should behave when meeting a significant other’s parents and although this was most likely the last situation, they would have ever expected him to use them in, Peter was grateful for the lessons. He only wished he’d remembered to bring something for her.

“Oh, you’ve picked a charmer, Ned!” Mrs. Leeds said to her son, dropping her voice into a pseudo-whisper as she glanced at her son. Peter’s face warmed even more but Ned just grinned at her and reached out to grab Peter’s hand again.

“He’s a real good one, Mama.” Peter’s heart skipped a beat when Ned’s wide grin softened to a fond smile as he turned towards him and he had to sharply remind himself that none of this was real to keep himself from actually swooning. He didn’t even think that was a thing real people did but he was feeling suddenly weak-kneed and he blamed Ned’s shockingly good acting skills. It should be a crime to be that attractive and talented.

“You let your family be the judge of that, dear,” Mrs. Leeds patted her son’s shoulder, still smiling sweetly as she brought both boys’ attention back to her. “You may call me Althea, Peter.” She added. “I’m glad you could make it early. When Ned told me you were spending the morning alone -ah, I was so angry I could have screamed! No one should be alone on the holidays, especially when they have a nice, thoughtful boy to take them somewhere.” Mrs. Leeds – no, Althea, Peter would have to remember she preferred – told him, her smile turning mischievous as she teased her son. They were a lot alike, Ned and his mother. It was a surprisingly sweet realization.

“Ah, Mama! Peter would have been fine for a few hours. Tell her, babe!” Peter barely resisted reacting to the casual use of a pet name from Ned. They’d agreed on those too, of course – Peter had drawn a hard no on several Ned had suggested but babe had seemed totally innocent at the time. He hadn’t factored in how different it was to hear Ned call him babe in front of his mother as though he did it every day than just saying it in a crowded bar.

“Don’t use your boyfriend to clean your conscious, Edward!” Althea fake-scolded, a hand on her hip. “There’s no excuses for not having him over early. Not when there’s plenty of room in our home and half a dozen people clamoring to meet him. Your auntie Francesca has been asking about your boyfriend for weeks now and you were just going to let him sit alone in his apartment!” Althea tutted at Ned and Peter barely restrained a small laugh. Some noise must have escaped, because Althea then turned her attention to him. Peter instinctively stood up straighter, fully prepared for his own lecture. But Althea just smiled again. “Not that I blame you at all, dear. I understand these kinds of meetings can be overwhelming. You come to me if any of those monsters in there –“ she gestured down the hall to where the sounds of riotous laughter were echoing off the walls, “get to be too much and I’ll deal with them.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Peter dutifully replied. Althea looked as though she was about to say something else when a loud male voice called out over the noise.

“Althea, quit hogging them and get them here so we can all meet Ned’s boy!” Peter blushed at his frank identification, even as Althea called back down the hall.

“I’m not hogging anyone, William! If you want to meet Peter, you come on out here and don’t yell down my hall like a banshee!” Althea coupled her words with a spectacular eye roll that must have been just for the boys’ benefit as the unfortunate William definitely couldn’t see it. Her words sounded annoyed but there was something akin to fondness on her face. Peter recognized the look as one his aunt had worn countless times when talking to his uncle, back before his passing, and deduced that this particular William must have been Ned’s father and not his cousin of the same name.

Peter’s assumption proved correct when, just a few seconds after Althea had called down the hall, a stout, kindly-looking man with Ned’s eyes came striding down the hall. Peter automatically stood straighter and lightly shook Ned’s hand out of his own so he could offer it to his father as he came close. Before this, he had only met his high school girlfriend’s parents and the meeting between him and Mr. Toomes had gone spectacularly, infamously terrible. Even if this was all pretend, Peter was determined to make a better impression now than he had back then. If only because he knew MJ was going to interrogate the both of them for details and she would never let him live it down if it went badly.

Mr. Leeds, to Peter’s relief, seemed far more friendly than Mr. Toomes had and he smiled approvingly as he took Peter’s hand and firmly shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.” He told him, echoing Mrs. Leed’s earlier greeting in the same pleasant accent. Peter offered him a nervous smile in return.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Leeds, sir.” Peter responded and was pleased to see Mr. Leeds’ smile grow slightly more approvingly. Charming the parents was going along shockingly well. “Thank you both for inviting me into your home,” Peter said, glancing at Althea as well as Mr. Leeds.

“Oh, it’s no trouble!” Althea rushed to say, waving a dismissive hand even as she smiled, obviously pleased.

“None at all, son!” Mr. Leeds added, reaching out to clasp a hand on Peter’s shoulder. It seemed obvious where Ned had gotten his habit of casual, brief touches. Peter didn’t mind – Mr. Leeds seemed to exude as much cheerful friendliness as his son and it was nice to have gained at least the semblance of approval. Even if it was all a sham.

Peter viciously pushed aside the sudden rush of guilt about how he was lying to this incredibly nice, polite couple. It was just a job, after all. One which he was being paid exceptionally well for. Which actually made him feel even worse when he thought about it, so he shoved that into the back corner of his mind too.

“Come in and meet the rest of the family,” Mr. Leeds continued, oblivious to Peter’s sudden inner morality crisis as he turned and began leading their small group down the hall. “The girls are just about over the moon in excitement about you. Ned hasn’t brought a boy over to us for years. Didn’t mention having a boy until about a month and a half ago. Didn’t even tell us your name until about a week ago. You a private person, Peter?” Mr. Leeds spoke quickly, unknowingly compounding Peter’s guilt with every oblivious word. Ned hadn’t told them about Peter until a week ago because to him, Peter hadn’t existed a week ago. At least not this Peter. The haphazardly crafted lie written up a week ago in a small bar.

He hadn’t been prepared for this. At all. He had foolishly thought he was but he was wrong. He  hadn’t been prepared for Ned’s parents to be so freaking nice – although maybe he should have because Ned was ridiculously sweet too. And Peter hadn’t been prepared for him either, not the way his smile sent his heart thumping in his chest or the way a gentle, friendly touch set his nerves on fire. He had known coming into this – had known every step of the way – how terrible of an idea this was. But it hadn’t truly hit him, how his actions would affect this lovely, close-knit family and part of him – the part that was horrified at the very thought of even accidentally hurting someone – was running absolutely rampant in the back of his mind.

But, despite his guilt, Peter had made a promise to Ned. He had a job to do and he would do it well. So he did what any other young, poor college student would have done in his position – he shoved all the bad feelings down to deal with later and fixed his most innocent, most sincere customer service smile onto his face. “I am a bit, I’m afraid.” He answered easily enough, not bothering to hide any of the self-consciousness in his voice. It would sell the story better.

Mr. Leeds seemed to accept his answer easily enough, merely nodding his head a little as he continued their little group down the small hall. The voices were growing louder, although Peter couldn’t quite yet discern what anyone was saying. They stopped just in front of a small, arched entryway – Peter could just make out several dark-haired people standing close to the entrance and a sliver of a dark blue couch. The voices were loud enough now that Peter could catch full sentences but the voices were a garbled mix of languages, English and Tagalog and what possibly could have been a bit of Spanish, and Peter couldn’t understand any of it. A fresh wave of nerves washed over him again; if most of the day was going to be spent speaking in a variety of languages, Peter was in for a very long day. The crash course in Tagalog phrases Ned gave him wasn’t nearly enough for a conversation and although his Spanish was still decent, Peter always felt self-conscious speaking it.

Possibly sensing his sudden wave of anxiety – or perhaps trying to make sure he was still in character before introducing him to the entire family – Ned reached for his hand again. No matter the reason, Peter steadied himself on the warm feeling of Ned’s fingers interlocked with his own. Mr. Leeds – who had, it seemed, stopped to give Peter a chance to ready himself – shared a knowing smile with his wife over Peter’s shoulder before he turned towards the room. “Look who the cat dragged in!” He called loudly into the room, drawing all the conversations to a close as he strode inside. Feeling uncomfortably self-aware and entirely too warm under his sweater, Peter followed the older man into the room.

All eyes – and there was truly an astronomical amount of them in such a small space – were trained on Peter and he forced himself not to fidget under the scrutiny of Ned’s family. There were at least ten people crammed into the small room. The two figures Peter had spotted through the doorway turned out to be two boys, one about fifteen and the other somewhere in the between stage of little kid and preteen where age was impossible to guess without risking an irate child-  Ned’s cousins William and Gabriel, he was mostly certain. Then there were two elderly women in brightly colored dresses and one man dressed in a long, high collared shirt with embroidery across the shoulders were sitting on the couch – the man must have been Ned’s grandfather, Alfonso, while the women must have been his grandmother, Maria Teresa, and great aunt, Imelda.

Two other women, about Ned’s parents’ age, sat in a love seat catty-cornered to the couch. One must have been his Auntie Francesca which made the other the much-dreaded Aunt Maria. Peter couldn’t tell which was which as both women offered him small smiles. The one on the right seemed to have a more fixed expression, but that could have easily just been Peter reading into it too much. The other three people in the room were small – the two identical girls beaming at Peter from their coveted spots between the legs of the elders had to be the famous Nemmie and Nellie, which meant that the little girl peering curiously at Peter from her perch on the arm of the loveseat was Ned’s baby cousin, Lilibeth.

Peter was feeling more and more grateful that Ned had insisted on drilling the names of his relatives into his head as he took stock of everyone looking at him. This was overwhelming, but it would have been so much worse if he hadn’t known any of their names. He knew, without a doubt, if any of them tried to tell him their names now, it would go straight out of his head the moment he heard it. As it was, he was inwardly freaking out about which aunt was which and which woman on the couch was Ned’s grandmother and which was his great-aunt.

“Don’t just stand there, Edward.” One of the women on the couch finally broke the silence, leaning forward to peer imperiously at the two boys over her round glasses as she spoke with a heavy accent. “Introduce us!”

“Yes, tiya.” Ned responded immediately, his back straightening almost automatically under the woman’s stern glare. Peter bit back the urge to smile at the sight. Now was not the time, even if it was cute that the seemingly unshakable Ned was intimidated by his diminutive great aunt. “Everyone, this is Peter, my boyfriend. Peter, this is everyone, my family.” Ned paired his lackluster introduction with a sweeping gesture that might have been elegant if he hadn’t still been holding Peter’s hand tightly.

“I guess names aren’t important anymore,” The woman grumbled before turning to Peter. “My name is Imelda and you may call me as such. I’m Ned’s mother’s auntie.” She told him promptly. “These here,” she gestured to the woman and man next to her. “are Ned’s grandparents, Maria Teresa and Alfonso. They do not speak much English so don’t bother saying much to them, unless you speak Tagalog or Spanish.” Imelda very much lived up to the no-nonsense reputation Ned had warned him she had, effortlessly taking charge of the conversation. Peter had to admire her sheer force of character. He didn’t have enough guts to tell the woman he knew everyone’s names – or at least thought he did – but he stood silently as Imelda shifted towards the aunts on the loveseat. “Those over there are –“

“Tiya, I already told him everyone’s name!” Ned obviously had way more courage than Peter because he easily interrupted the older woman in a way Peter never would have attempted, even had she been his own family member. Imelda was scary. Especially when she raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her grand-nephew.

“Oh, did you? When was this? Over the cellphone? I did not know you could introduce someone in a call they weren’t present for.” Peter would have quailed under her gaze but Ned didn’t.

“I used pictures,” he told her unabashedly. Imelda’s eyebrow went even higher, virtually disappearing under her neatly combed curls.

“Okay then. Let’s see how well this worked. Tell me everyone’s names, Peter.” Her gaze suddenly shifted to Peter and he felt his cheeks heat up automatically. “Well then?” She asked again imperiously.

“Oh come now, tiya. The boy’s shy! Don’t put him on the spot like that!” Althea chided softly, coming to Peter’s defense from her seat in a cushy white armchair next to the couch. Part of Peter felt relieved – it was comforting to know there was someone who would come to bat for him in this room of strangers. But another, larger part of him rankled slightly. He couldn’t very well charm people if they thought him nothing but a shy, quiet boy.

“It’s alright Mrs. L-Althea,” Peter belatedly corrected himself, trying to ignore how warm his face felt as everyone’s attention turned toward him. He forced himself to turn and face Imelda was staring at him with an appraising look in her eyes. “Ned really did do a good job telling me everyone’s names,” he told her. To make his point, he gestured over to one of the aunts on the loveseat, hoping he was correct when he chose the one with the larger smile, “that’s Ms. Francesca, Ned’s youngest aunt on his father’s side. The woman next to her is Ned’s oldest aunt on his father’s side, Ms. Maria.” Ned hadn’t bothered teaching him last names and he hoped neither of the women minded being addressed by their given names. Hopefully Althea and Imelda were good indicators to how the rest of the Leeds family was. “Then there’s William and Gabriel,” he pointed to the boys still standing by the entry way. “And then the twins Nellie and Nemmie” – both girls positively preened when Peter said their names although he hadn’t even bothered trying to differentiate the two and just said their names as a collective. “And Lilibeth is sitting there on the loveseat.” He pointed to the small girl last. She offered him a shy, toothy smile in response.

“Mr. Mateo, Ned’s uncle on his mother’s side, will be coming with his wife, Ms. Jasmine, and their children later.” Peter added, trying to show off just a little. Ned’s uncle Matteo was notoriously late, to the point that he was often told to be at the house hours and sometimes days in advance to ensure he wasn’t late to the point of missing the holiday.

Imelda looked, much to Peter’s relief, suitably impressed, as did most of the other adults in the room, as he listed off the family members with stark accuracy. For a moment, it seemed the older woman was going to say something but was beaten to it by Ned, sounding far more smug than he had reason to. “I told you, I told him everyone’s names.”

Imelda’s stern expression morphed into something far fonder and a touch sly as she turned to her grand-nephew. “So you did. I am surprised. I did not think young adults did much actual talking in relationships. Let alone take the time to teach them the names of everyone in the family.” Peter blushed at the slight implication in Imelda’s words and smile but Ned seemed nonplussed.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I led him  into the lion’s den blind?” He retorted, earning himself several chuckles.

“The kind that doesn’t tell his family about his boyfriend!” That was Aunt Francesca, finally speaking up now that the introductions were over. She was smiling openly, despite her words, so Peter knew she wasn’t truly upset about it.

“Oh, he’s allowed some privacy, isn’t he? And Peter’s a good boy,” That was Mr. Leeds speaking, moving in to prop himself on the arm of the couch, close to where his father sat. Peter idly wondered how much Ned’s grandparents could understand of the conversation – or even if they knew what Peter was doing here, for that matter. Ned had said most of his family was cool with his sexuality and it certainly seemed that Imelda, Althea and Mr. Leeds had no problem with it, but Peter didn’t know if that applied to his grandparents, both of whom were significantly older even than Imelda.

“How do we know he’s a good boy?” Francesca pressed, still smiling widely. Mr. Leeds made a show of rolling his eyes before jabbing himself lightly in the heart.

“I know it here! Peter’s a good boy and he’s good for Ned.” Peter shoved down the sudden spike of guilt back where it came from and obediently followed as Ned lightly tugged him over to a cushy armchair next to his mother, the only seat left in the crowded room. Ned made a show of offering him the chair but, biting back a smile, Peter just shook his head and perched himself onto the arm of the chair instead. Normally, he never would have sat so casually as a guest in someone’s home but no one seemed to mind that others were doing it and there was no other option unless he wanted to awkwardly stand next to Ned in the armchair.

“Ah!” Francesca exclaimed. “That means nothing! We must ask Peter questions and judge him for ourselves!” There was a gleam in her eyes as she spoke, as though not even she was taking herself seriously.

“Are we going to interrogate Ned’s boyfriend?” One of the twins piped up, looking scarily excited by the idea. Althea immediately sat forward.

“Absolutely not! Auntie Francesca is just being silly!” She shot a sharp look to Francesca as she spoke but the other woman just smiled unabashedly.

“Oh, we definitely are, Nellie! How else would we be able to tell if Peter’s a fraud?” Peter’s heart gave a horrible lurch in response to Francesca’s words. He knew, logically, she was just teasing but her joke hit far too close to the truth for him to be comfortable. The slight jostle he felt as Ned subconsciously shifted his body let him know he wasn’t alone in the sentiment. “Do you have any questions for him?” Francesca continued, her smile growing larger in amusement.

“How about the children go play a game while the adults talk, hmm?” Althea said pointedly. Immediately there was a riot of protests from the twins.

“I wanna interrogate Peter!” One of the girls – Nellie, Peter was almost certain – said, an impressive pout across her face.

“I never get to sit with the adults!” Nemmie protested at the same time, wearing the exact same pout on her own face. Peter would have caved then and there, but Althea was made of much stronger stuff as she simply raised her eyebrow.

“You heard me. William, you know where the board games are. Would you be a dear and start a game up for you and the children?” William, the eldest of the cousins present, nodded and turned to leave – presumably on the hunt for a board game that would entertain a wide age group of five to fifteen. Peter wished him luck in that endeavor. The other children, grumbling more than their fair share, stood up or - in Lilibeth’s case – hopped down to follow him obediently. Peter had to admire Althea’s “mom voice” – it sure was effective. And definitely would have come in handy with the ruder customers at Peter’s other job. And other, other job too, for that matter.

The adults waited until the children were completely gone from the room before turning once again to Peter and Ned. This time, Peter was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the almost predatory looks in their eyes. Despite Althea’s insistence that there wasn’t going to be an interrogation, the questions came quickly, from all sides of the room.

“You’re a student, Peter? What do you study?”

“Do you work as well?”

“What’s your family like?”

“How long have you known Ned?” 

Peter tried not to get overwhelmed as he set to answering each of the questions. Yes, he was a student – a junior at Columbia just like Ned. He was double majoring in organic chemistry and mechanical engineering and hoped to intern with Stark Industries or another tech giant over the summer. He had two part-time jobs at a bookshop and a coffee shop. His family was very small, but pretty close. He would have done Thanksgiving with his aunt, but she was out of the country visiting family and Peter hadn’t been able to join. He’d known Ned since the end of Freshman year, but they hadn’t started dating until this last summer.

Peter answered as honestly as he could and the Leeds asked more questions, evidently eager to gleam as much from Peter as they could. Only the thin-smiling Aunt Maria seemed completely disinterested in him and, considering why he was here in the first place, he couldn’t really find it in himself to care too much about her. Silence from her was undoubtedly for the best.

Eventually, after a few pointed comments from both Ned and Althea, the interrogation aspect of the conversation came to a halt and they began to discuss more congenial things. Peter found that his worries about Ned’s grandparents not understanding the conversation around them was unfounded as both Imelda and Mr. Leeds – or William, as he told Peter to call him midway through the conversation when he seemed to realize he was the only adult Peter was addressing by last name – ran a continuous translation on everything said to them and also translated – for Peter’s sake – everything the couple said. The others, too, often slipped into Tagalog – or, every once in a while, Spanish -whenever they couldn’t think of the right word or phrase, before turning back to English, often with a sheepish smile in Peter’s direction.

Peter didn’t mind the switching. He found it endlessly fascinating the way people slipped from one language to another so seemingly effortlessly – he had ever since he had been little, sitting on his aunt’s lap and listening to her prattle on in Italian in her monthly calls to her family in Sicily. He himself was proficient in Italian – he could hold conversations with his aunt, at any rate – and he had studied Spanish pretty seriously throughout high school and he could also read some Hebrew, courtesy of his Bat Mitzvah and trips to the synagogue with his uncle. But he wasn’t fluent in anything but English and the ability of fluent bilinguals to flow from one language to another or to hold conversations in a mixture of two languages and understand each other perfectly was absolutely amazing.

It was particularly nice to hear Ned do it, although Peter wouldn’t dare let himself dwell too much on how mesmerizing it was to hear Ned speak the rolling, swift tones of Tagalog as he sat close enough that his breath could tickle Peter’s ear if he just turned his head slightly.

No, Peter didn’t mind the mixture of languages spread throughout the conversation. He didn’t mind any of the conversation at all, for that matter. Despite his trepidations and nerves, there was something almost natural at being at the Leeds house. As though Peter really did belong here, despite his and Ned’s false relationship. He was so engrossed in the conversation that he hadn’t even noticed an hour had passed until Althea stood up and excused herself to the kitchen, smoothly interrupting the conversation.

“Do you need any he-“ Peter began to ask, half rising to his feet when Ned placed a hand on his knee and gently pushed him back down. Around them, the others were sharing amused glances.

“Mom doesn’t like help in the kitchen. She won’t call us in there until it’s time to start the simple things. She doesn’t even let anyone cook their parts of the meal here. They have to cook them at home and then warm them in the oven when it’s closer to dinner.” Ned explained lowly. Peter felt himself flush as he looked at the other boy.

“I didn’t bring anything, though.” Peter was a bit at a loss, all of a sudden. Thanksgiving at his home had always been an all hands-on affair, mainly because they lived on the tried and true opinion that one Parker would start a house fire but two could keep the burning to just the food and three could actually produce a meal.

Althea, who had stopped in the entrance way when Peter had started speaking, just clucked her tongue. “You didn’t need to bring anything. You’re a college student and a guest! All you need to bring to this house is an appetite and the willingness to clean dishes afterwards.” She told him matter-of-factly. Peter conceded, slumping slightly against the back corner of the chair where it lined up with the arm. He knew a losing battle when he saw one and there was no way he would be going up against Ned’s mother.

The conversation continued on, ebbing and flowing through various topics with ease only close people shared. Peter allowed himself to fall back some, safe under the assumption of him being a “quiet boy,” and watched with thinly veiled interest as Ned and William – the cousin, not the father, he’d snuck away from the younger cousins the moment they were distracted by Clue Junior – engaged in a joking back-and-forth and the adults joyfully debated the merits of various teams and players for the upcoming basketball season. Growing up, it had always been May and Ben,  MJ and her aunt Anna. Occasionally, his grandparents or extended family would visit, but those were far and in between and for the most part, it had only been the five of them for holidays. May didn’t have any siblings and Uncle Ben had only had Peter’s father.

Peter hadn’t minded and still didn’t – he had loved their small, intimate Thanksgiving dinners and how he hadn’t had to share lighting the menorah candles or putting up the Christmas ornaments with anybody but MJ – but there was something wonderful between Ned and his family, some connection that only came from such a large family that Peter couldn’t compete with. He couldn’t imagine knowing all these people, let alone the literal dozens of family members who couldn’t make it because they still lived in the Philippines or another state far away. Visits back to the Philippines had to be insane and Peter briefly allowed himself the fantasy of what it would be like to go to one. No way their fake relationship would last that long – Peter had doubts that even a real one would go that far, given his track record – but it was nice to think about.

At some point, Althea came back into room and announced that lunch – which was really just a bunch of various snacks and finger foods to tide everyone over until dinner – was ready and the group as a collective moved and made their way down the small hall towards the food. The kitchen, Peter soon learned, was even smaller than the living room but it was open to both the dining room – the handiwork of Mr. Leeds and Ned one summer a couple of years ago as none of the older houses in Queens had such an open floor plan – and a small family room where the younger cousins were engaged in a fierce looking debate on who ate the missing piece of cake, Miss Scarlet with the lemonade in the dining room or Colonel Mustard with milk in the kitchen.

The family settled easily around the kitchen and dining room and continued their conversations around platters of various meats, cheeses, fruits, vegetables, and several dishes Peter couldn’t recognize but smelled delicious. He waited politely until all the adults had gotten their plates before grabbing a few things for himself and settling next to Ned on two stools at the breakfast bar that split the kitchen from the dining room. Their position seemed ideal – they could join in with Ismelda and Althea’s conversation in the kitchen or with the others who had sat themselves around the dinner table in the other room  - but it soon turned sour when Ned’s infamous aunt Maria settled herself in the remaining stool next to Peter.

Peter tried not to tense up but it was a hard fight; especially when Ned beside him went slightly stiff, setting his plate down on the bar with a slightly too loud thud. Aunt Maria didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched the two of them with dark eyes. Then, right when Peter was about to reach his limit and say something – anything would be better than this odd bubble of silence round them – Aunt Maria offered a small smile and said, “it’s nice to meet you, Peter. It isn’t often that Ned brings over any friends,” Peter blinked, unsure what to say. He could see now what Ned had been talking about – Aunt Maria’s words were polite enough on the surface, but there was something upsetting about the way she said “friends” that Peter couldn’t comment on without seeming like the rude one. It was already frustrating, and she had only said the one thing.

“My boyfriend, tiya.” Ned corrected stiffly, turning so that he could look at Aunt Maria over Peter’s shoulder. She just offered him a thin smile in response.

“Of course, of course.” She replied, a distinctly dismissive tone in her voice as she waved a hand about lazily. Peter bristled, sitting up a bit straighter as he looked down at the woman sitting next to him. He didn’t have much experience in being significantly taller than people, being not particularly tall himself, but the Leeds family was shorter than average and Peter towered over the particularly diminutive Aunt Maria. “I meant to tell you, Ned dear,” she said, peering over Peter’s shoulder to address her nephew, “there’s a very nice girl I met when I went to Thanksgiving mass with your mother yesterday. Her name’s Irina and she’s new to the city – getting ready to transfer to New York University. I thought you’d be willing to show her around this weekend before school started up again. You do live in such a large city, after all. It’s no place for a girl to be figuring out on her own.”

This woman couldn’t be serious. Peter had expected her to be bad, but this was a whole different level of what the hell. It was one level of terrible to try and set up your gay nephew with a girl when he was single and a completely different level to try and set up your gay nephew when he was supposedly dating someone who was sitting right in front of you. He didn’t even have to try and fake being upset as he shot an incredulous look at Ned.

Ned, for his part, looked less upset and more resigned which was just another layer to the sheer terribleness of the situation. “I’d love to show her around but me and Peter have plans this weekend,” he told her, voice smooth as he lied. Something distinctly unpleasant flashed across Aunt Maria’s face but it was gone as quick as it had come and her thin-lipped smile was firmly in place as she spoke again.

“Surely you could move things around for a young woman? What would you be doing for a whole weekend together, anyway?” Aunt Maria didn’t even acknowledge Peter, continuing to look over his shoulder towards Peter.

Having a marathon of sex, Peter was seriously tempted to say, regardless of the consequences. It would be worth never being able to see Ned again, if just to see the look on his aunt’s face if he said that. He bit it back though, instead opting to reach out and take Ned’s hand. He made a show of brushing his fingers against the other boy’s knuckles gently and purposely ignored the way the other boy jumped slightly in surprise as he turned back to Aunt Maria with the widest, fakest smile plastered on her face.

“Actually, my Aunt May is coming back from Sicily on Friday and we made plans to have dinner with her on Saturday so she and Ned have a chance to meet. It’s an important step you know, meeting each other’s families,” Peter made sure to turn briefly back to Ned, his smile turning fond and a tad more real than the one he gave Aunt Maria. Ned was staring at him with thinly-veiled surprise and Peter sent a silent prayer that he wasn’t upset with him. “We wanted to try and do it all at the same time,” he gently squeezed Ned’s hand before turning back to Aunt Maria.

Aunt Maria’s thin smile was still in place, but there was definitely more strain to it than had been before. “Does your aunt –“ Peter could tell she was trying to find a good word to phrase her sentence and he waited expectantly. He wasn’t about to help her out any. “- approve? Of you seeing a boy she hasn’t met?” She added the last part quickly, but Peter could very much infer what she actually meant and he had to restrain himself from glaring at her.

“Oh yeah! I’ve told her lots of great things and she’s crazy excited to actually meet him. My last boyfriend and I didn’t part on good terms, so I think she’s just happy I found someone so great.” Peter made sure to keep up his air of contrived obliviousness as he continued smiling at Maria. She was quickly losing control of her smile and Peter wondered if she was going to end up snapping at  him. He didn’t think he could handle her being any worse than she currently was.

She opened her mouth to say something probably even more unpleasant but before Peter could brace himself for more bullshit, the front door banged open. “We’re here!” A loud voice boomed out. Like magic, the tension in Aunt Maria disappeared as she turned, like everyone else, towards the kitchen entrance.

The first to appear was a young woman, probably about Peter and Ned’s age, with a toddler on her hip. Right behind her was another boy, also around their age, with the same eyes and hair as the girl. They must have been the oldest twins, Ned’s cousins Isabela and Jaime, and the baby of the family, their baby brother, Mateo.

“Don't let him fool you with any of his talk about traffic from the airport, Dad was just late again.” The woman – Isabela – said, offering a hug to both Imelda and Althea as everyone rushed into the kitchen to greet them. Peter felt his tension ease immediately as Aunt Maria got up and kissed Isabela her on both cheeks before moving on and giving the same treatment to Jaime and the baby. He took the momentary chaos – compounded when Mateo Senior and Jasmine came into the room – to look over at Ned.

“You alright? I’m sorry if I overstepped.” He whispered, hesitantly placing one hand on Ned’s shoulder. He hadn’t been expecting to lie – at least no more than he was by his sheer presence – but it had come surprisingly easy when Aunt Maria started hounding on Ned. Peter wasn’t really the combative type but there was something about Ned that roused his protective instincts. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was make Ned uncomfortable by being too upfront.

Ned, much to Peter’s surprise and relief, did not seem to view the situation in the same way because he smiled widely and clasped both his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Are you kidding?” He whispered back, positively beaming. “That was so amazing, I could kiss you!” Peter flushed red even as he smiled shyly back at the other boy. “Not that I would of course, because mouth-to-mouth kissing goes against the agreement,” Ned hastily added, his own cheeks darkening as he seemed to realize what he said. “But still, I could! I’ve never seen her –“

Whatever Ned was about to say was drowned out by a sudden, loud voice booming, “Looks like the new little lovebirds are having a moment!” Blushing viciously, Peter pulled away from Ned to see Ned’s uncle Mateo smirking in amusement at the two of them. The rest of the family was watching too and for a moment Peter worried about  their reaction. His concern was unfounded, however, when the rest of the Leeds – with the glaring exception of Aunt Maria – began to laugh. Their laughter doubled when Ned, feeling boldened and probably wanting to dig into Aunt Maria just a bit, leaned over and pressed a quick kiss onto Peter’s cheek.

“Oh, don’t tease too much now,” Althea warned, although there was laughter in her voice. “Peter’s a quiet boy. And he’s a guest.”

“Ned went for someone quiet?” Jaime chimed in, a wide grin on his face, as he marched forward to greet Peter properly. Peter blushed even more as he held out a hand for Jaime to shake. Jaime and Isabela, Peter knew,  were Ned’s favorite cousins, close enough in age that they had practically grown up as siblings, even when they lived across the country from each other, Ned in New York and the twins in Hawaii. Peter needed to make a good impression with them, too. Even if – it was becoming increasingly harder to remember – none of it would matter after Peter left to return to his apartment.

“It doesn’t look like he’s going to be a guest for long,” Isabela added, her own amused smirk a mirror of her brother’s. At some point, she had passed her baby brother over to Ned’s grandmother, and she strode forward unencumbered to shake Peter’s hand after Jaime. Peter took her hand with a shy smile, inwardly trying not to read too far into her teasing words.

“That’s true,” this was Mateo Senior speaking again, wearing the same exact smirk as his two children. “Me and Jas met in college. You and Althea did too, didn’t you, Will?” Peter blushed furiously as William agreed that, yes indeed, he and Althea met and dated in college. He had joked about Ned’s family planning their marriage at the end of the day, but he definitely hadn’t actually expected it to happen. He had expected a slightly awkward holiday where he fumbled through the motions of being a pretend boyfriend while being included only as far as politeness dictated. He had expected to be awkward and self-conscious around Ned and his family. He hadn’t expected the lies to come easily or the pretend relationship to feel real. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed so completely. And he definitely hadn’t expected the crushing guilt that threatened to overwhelm him as he looked into the beaming, knowing faces of the Leeds.

They thought Ned and Peter were in a serious relationship. Even thought they might follow in the footsteps of Ned’s parents and go all the way. They had no idea at all that Ned and Peter had met a week ago and all the closeness they were sharing, no matter how heartbreakingly real it felt to Peter, was nothing but a shockingly convincing sham. He was spiraling. Spiraling hard. Peter knew this and he desperately hoped for anything stable to latch himself onto.

He hadn’t expected his footing to come from the dreaded Aunt Maria, but there was something almost comfortably stagnant about ignorance. “I really don’t think you can compare the relationships,” Ned’s aunt said, her voice severe as she broke through the laughter. Peter felt Ned tense visibly besides him and reached out to grab hold of his hand. He couldn’t quite pinpoint at what part of the day the hand-holding had ceased to be part of the façade and began to be a source of comfort, but he wasn’t going to question it now.

“What do you mean by that, tiya?” Isabela spoke up, breaking the brief silence that had fallen on the Leeds. Peter was surprised to see that her shoulders were stiff and her face was severe, as though she too knew about Aunt Maria’s blatant homophobia thinly-veiled as concern.

“I simply mean, they can’t possibly be that serious, can they? And marriage would, of course be out of the question. Ned can’t marry outside the church.” She spoke simply, as though what she was saying was common sense. “He’ll find a nice girl eventually, and that will be the end of whatever this little experiment is, won’t it?” Stunned, uncomfortable silence followed her pronunciation but Peter hardly noticed everyone else’s response. He was shaking in anger, absolutely furious in a way he had never been before.

Never once, had Peter struck out in anger as an adult – not when an irate, irrational customer had poured his incorrect coffee order all across the front counter at the Flywheel, not when someone had graffitied rude slurs across the windows of the Attic, not when his Freshman lit professor gave him a B on the final paper because he “focused too much on the homoerotic subtexts in Wilde’s work.” But now? Peter was ready to scream at the woman in front of him. It was an unpleasant, ugly, burning feeling and the only thing that stopped him from chewing her head off in front of all the family present was Ned beside him.

 Ned, who Peter could feel shaking slightly beside him. Ned, who was gripping Peter’s hand so tightly he was beginning to lose feeling in the tips of his fingers. Ned, who Peter could tell with a single glance was about ten seconds away from either crying or completely losing his shit. Ned, who was a kind, amazing person with this kind, amazing family. Ned, who deserved so much better than to be so completely belittled by his own aunt. Ned, who’s wellbeing had become a priority for Peter at some point in their brief relationship.

Deciding quickly, Peter leveled Aunt Maria with the darkest glare he could muster before tugging hard on Ned’s hand and striding towards the entrance. There wasn’t anything he could say that could change Aunt Maria’s mind, no matter how much he wished there was, so he simply didn’t utter a word. The silence followed them as everyone watched as he stormed out, Ned at his heels. Peter paid them no mind – they weren’t priority right now – and he didn’t even bother stopping when noise erupted in the kitchen. He marched down the hall and then turned to the staircase and stomped up to the second floor, where he was sure there would be enough privacy for Ned.

Ned seemed to gain some control of himself by the time they reached the top of the stairs and led Peter to the room on the far end of the small landing. It was a bedroom, Peter realized as Ned opened the door and rushed inside, dropping Peter’s hand as he went. Probably Ned’s own bedroom, although Peter didn’t have the time to dwell on that as he closed the door behind them and turned to see Ned sitting on a dark blue bedspread, staring at his hands. It was a far cry from the morning when Peter had freaked out about allowing a boy into his apartment – had that really only been that morning? – but he was hardly fazed as he sat down heavily on the bed next to Ned and placed a comforting arm around the other boy’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he told Ned. He spoke softly, hardly above a whisper, but it seemed to shatter some barrier inside of Ned and suddenly he was crying, twisting his body so that he could lean against Peter and cry into his shoulder. Peter didn’t have time to feel self-conscious or second-guess his actions; he simply wrapped his arms around the other boy and let him cry. “I’m sorry,” he said again, gently rubbing circles into Ned’s back as he sobbed. “You didn’t deserve that, I’m so sorry.” Peter repeated as he slowly began rocking with Ned, still rubbing soothing circles into his back. He repeated it again and again, like a mantra, until Ned’s crying finally slowed and he pulled away from Peter’s shoulder.

“I must look a mess,” Ned muttered, lifting one hand to wipe the remaining tears from his face. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Peter told him firmly, his hands resting on Ned’s shoulders, ready to pull him back into a hug if it seemed necessary. Ned hiccuped and wiped a few more tears from his face.

“I should never have invited you here,” he told him, his voice barely above a whisper, and Peter had to push aside the sudden sting of the words. Ned didn’t mean them in a harsh way and allowing himself to get upset over words said in sorrow wouldn’t help the situation anyway. “I knew she was bad but I didn’t think she’d ever –“ Ned cut himself off with a tragic whimper and Peter inwardly cursed his witch of an aunt. No one ever deserved to feel unsafe or unloved in their own home and right then, Ned was obviously feeling both.

“She had no right,” Peter told him. “Absolutely no right.”

“She wasn’t exactly wrong though, was she? We are basically an experiment,” there was a bitterness in Ned’s voice that Peter didn’t expect and it left him floundered. Before he could figure out something to say that could assuage it, Ned was speaking again. “I should have never brought you here to lie to my family. It didn’t make anything better. It was just a mistake. And now, I’m a liar.” The bitterness in Ned’s voice was more pronounced, angrier and Peter couldn’t help but flinch a little from the harshness of the words. He could tell himself Ned didn’t mean them, but there was still some hurt at being called a mistake. Even if it was true.

“Would you like me to go?” Peter asked, his voice so quiet it was nearly indecipherable. It was the right thing to do – Peter hardly knew Ned and he would be a poor comfort to him in this moment. That didn’t make the sting of rejection hurt any less, though. It felt rather like his heart was breaking. He made to stand up. Walking past Ned’s family would be mortifying but he could do it. If it’s what Ned needed.

“No.” Ned’s voice was almost inaudible but his grip was surprisingly strong as his hand stretched out and snagged Peter’s wrist, keeping him firmly in place. “No, I never want you to go.” Ned’s voice was a bit louder now but the sense of them was lost on Peter. “That’s the problem, don’t you see? I barely know you and you’ve just seen me at my worst, and I still don’t want you to leave.” His voice was at a normal volume now, sounding almost like a shout in the too-quiet room. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you just left, but you didn’t! And you were so ridiculously nice to my family and you tried to involve my grandparents even though they don’t speak English. And you didn’t freak out when I showed up at your apartment hours early like a weirdo or when I spent the entire week blasting your phone with texts and you’re just so fucking sweet and I have no idea if that’s because I’m paying you or if you’re just polite like that and either way it’s not fair because it all feels so real but it isn't!”

Peter was stunned by the admission. It was eerily similar to how Peter had been feeling throughout the week. Could Ned really have been feeling the same way the entire time? And if he had, what did that mean for them?

“And I want it all to be real!” Ned continued, oblivious to Peter’s inner struggle. “I want you to be that boy my parents met today. I want you to be the boy I bring home to them when I visit! I want you to be the one that drives Aunt Maria up a wall until she chokes on her own hatred! I want you to be the one who comforts me when the words hurt too much! I’ve only known you a week but I want you so much and it’s all completely ridiculous because I never believed in that movie magic bullshit where people fall in love right away but I feel like that’s happening to me right now and I don’t even know if any of it’s real!” The words kept flowing from Ned in a torrent and he was near shouting now. Normally Peter would have shied away from anything overly loud but it hardly fazed him now amidst the whirlwind his mind had become.

Ned had described the exact feelings Peter had been unable to put into words, although they had been ruthlessly eating at him. More importantly, Ned wanted Peter in the same way Peter wanted him.

Normally, Peter would have never made the first move. He was a reserved person when it came to these kinds of things – he had put himself out there in high school with Liz and that had failed so spectacularly Peter still sometimes had nightmares about the sheer humiliation. And he also knew, logically, that making a move when someone had just been really hurt and still had tear-tracts marring their face was generally not a good idea. But all his senses seemed to have gone out the window and all he could concentrate on was two things:

Ned wanted Peter the way Peter wanted Ned;

Ned was hurting and although he couldn’t make what his aunt said any less painful, he could at least alleviate the pain he was causing.

He didn’t need to think any more about it – part of him even knew, subconsciously, that he would have backed out if he thought about it anymore.

He leaned in as Ned was mid-tirade and pressed his lips against the other boys.

It was awkward, at first. Ned wasn’t kissing back for one; for another, he could feel the slight wetness of the other boy’s face from where his tears had pooled around his mouth. He now knew how Harry Potter had felt kissing Cho Chang under the mistletoe, which was not something he had ever thought he would experience. He pulled away, a hasty apology already on his lips. But before he could even get out the word “I”, Ned was reaching out to put his arms around Peter’s neck and bring him back down close enough to press his lips back against his, kissing him as though his life depended on it.

Stars seemed to burst behind Peter’s eyes as he let out a tiny gasp of surprise and pleasure. Ned’s lips were as soft as Peter ever imagined them to be and his hands, which had snaked their way into Peter’s curls, were warm and strong as he tugged at his hair non-too gently, prompting another little gasp from the taller boy. Peter’s arms wrapped around Ned almost instinctively and he reveled in the softness around Ned’s waist. For a moment, he wondered what Ned felt like underneath his sweater, wondered what it would feel like to press his hand to Ned’s bare flesh.

He had just been about to slip his fingers underneath the hem of Ned’s sweater to run them across the expanse of Ned’s back, just above his hips when the loud bang of a door echoed through the house and both boys realized, quite suddenly, that they were not alone in the house.

They sprang apart as though the slammed door had belonged to Ned’s room. Peter blushed furiously as he caught sight of Ned’s rumpled sweater, its hem pushed up just enough that he could catch sight of a thin stretch of dark brown skin, and his plump, almost swollen lips. Had he really done all of that was his first thought, closely followed by, if Ned looked so thoroughly kissed, how on earth did he look? He blushed furiously and ran a hand through the back of his hair, hoping to calm the mess Ned had made of his curls back into order.

“Umm,” he said, averting his gaze as Ned pulled his sweater back down. “I like you too?” He hadn’t meant to phrase that as a question – he hadn’t meant to really say anything at all but he felt like a kiss like that deserved at least a passing mention. He wasn’t nearly as good at speaking as Ned seemed to be, however, and he couldn’t help but grimace a little at how awkward his words sounded.

“I gathered,” Ned was smiling for the first time since Aunt Maria had uttered those awful words and Peter’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. There was something unfairly magical about Ned Leeds’s smile and the way it made his eyes shine. Peter could probably get lost in it, if he gave himself the chance. He looked forward to trying.

“It was all real, for me at least.” Peter couldn’t help but add, wanting to reassure Ned about his earlier worries. “It wasn’t about the money. I mean, it was at first, when MJ told me about what you were looking for. But I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to do it, even with the money, until I met you. I met you and it felt like – like something clicked and I wanted to do this because I wanted to help you. And get to know you. And I know it’s only been a week and I sound like a really godawful cliché right now, but I want you too. I want to know your family and to introduce you to mine; I want to know what it’s like to watch the Star Wars trilogy together, cuddled up on my couch; I want to debate Harry Potter in person rather than on the phone. I want to know what it’ll feel like to date you for real. I want to know what it would be like to fall in love with you. That is, if you want that too.”

Peter felt a bit like an idiot as he spoke. But Ned had put himself out there and it was only fair for Peter to do it too, even if he didn’t have righteous anger to fuel his speech. Ned, much to Peter’s relief, didn’t seem to think Peter was an idiot. Or maybe he did, but in an endearing way, which Peter would gladly take. He beamed at Peter, reaching out to take both of his hands. “So… you don’t want the money, then?” Ned’s tone was teasing and Peter couldn’t help but let out a surprised, relieved laugh.

“You should actually probably definitely keep that because I’m pretty sure if I accepted it now, we’ll have broken several state laws.” It was Ned’s turn to laugh then, a bright sound that made Peter’s heart skip several beats. He could get addicted to that sound, if he wasn’t careful.

And Peter didn’t want to be careful, anymore.

They might have kissed again, in that moment. Ned was leaning in, lifting his chin up slightly so that he could easily reach Peter’s mouth with his own, when a loud knock rattled against the door and both boys jumped in surprise.

“Ned? Peter? Are you okay?” Althea’s voice warbled through the door. She sounded upset and worried. Rightfully so, Peter couldn’t help but think as the memories of Aunt Maria’s horrible words came back full force. In the euphoria of kissing Ned, the anger inside him had been numbed but now it roared out in full force as he remembered the stunned silence that had followed her callous words. None of the Leeds had stood up for Ned – or Peter, for that matter – when he needed them to and Peter didn’t think he would be forgiving that anytime soon. “I’m with your father, Ned. Can we come in?” Peter and Ned looked at each other, surprised. Normally, the parents asked for the kids to come out to them; it hardly went the other way.

Peter knew there would be no way to hide what he and Ned had been doing – even if they fixed their clothes and hair, there was no mistaking the swollenness of their lips – but it would be all the more suspicious and worrying if they didn’t let Ned’s parents in now. Blushing slightly, Peter nodded to a waiting Ned. “You can come in,” Ned said, his voice soft. He was nervous, Peter realized as the door slowly opened before them. Nervous for what his parents had to say to them; probably nervous, at least somewhat, that a part of his parents agreed with what his aunt said.

“We’re so sorry,” Althea said the moment the door was opened enough to see her. She didn’t seem to notice how disarrayed both boys were as she swept in and pulled Ned into a hard hug. William came in silently behind him, his face stony, as Althea released her son and turned to Peter, pulling him in to a hug of his own.

“We asked her to leave,” William stated without any preamble, a hardness in his voice that Peter would never have expected. “What she said was unacceptable.” Peter couldn’t help but blink in surprise as Ned beside him outright gawked at his father’s words. Ned had told him that his parents tolerated a lot of Aunt Maria’s microaggressions because she was William’s closest sister and he loved her dearly. It seemed he didn’t love her as much as he did his son, however, and that fact filled Peter with vicious satisfaction. “The whole family agreed.” William continued, stepping forward and stopping close to his son. His next words were directed at Ned alone but Peter could still hear them, clear as day. “I love you with all my heart, no strings attached, no conditions. And I will not tolerate anyone hurting you in any circumstances; not even if it is family and especially not under my own roof.”

Ned, who had looked close to tears the moment his mother had swept her into a hug, finally cracked and allowed the drops to flow down his cheeks openly as he rushed forward half a step and wrapped his arms around his father.

Peter felt a bit like a voyeur in that moment; he was privy to something deeply personal after all, but it seemed like the Leeds didn’t mind at all. The moment William released his son, he turned towards Peter. “I’m sorry that you were hurt, too. I know you are a good kid and that you will be good to my son. Please, stay and let the family make up for my sister’s words.” Peter didn’t know how to respond. The words were sincere and mind-blowingly kind. William Leeds hardly knew him – and he definitely didn’t know anything real about his and Ned’s relationship – but he was still standing in front of him, apologizing for words his sister hadn’t even said to Peter himself.

“Yes, sir.” He settled on finally, his voice a surprised whisper. William offered him a weak smile of his own. Peter could see pain in the older man’s eyes and he knew it must have cost a great deal to have thrown his own sister out of his home. The Leeds seemed bent on putting it behind them as quickly as possible, however, for as soon as Peter had spoken, Althea clapped her hands together with a small smile on her face.

“Now, let’s go down and see the rest of the family. The turkey will be ready soon and I will not allow it go dry just because any of you insisted on being up here a minute more!” There was a bit of forced cheeriness in her voice that hadn’t been there before, but her effort was enormous and Peter found himself agreeing along and following the older couple outside the door.

As they walked down the stairs, Peter couldn’t help but reflect on how sheerly crazy the whole situation had been. He had come here as a lie to everyone in the home to annoy a homophobic but beloved aunt and now he would be leaving with a true relationship, several new people who adored him, and with one less awful person around him.

It was crazy. Ridiculous. Outrageous. Never anything he expected he would do in his life.

And yet, as he felt Ned’s fingers skim lightly against his own, as he accepted the invitation and wrapped his hand around the other boy’s and held his hand for real, Peter couldn’t imagine a better way for it to have gone.

Later, he would have to call MJ and thank her for giving his name to Ned.

It was Thanksgiving, after all, and Peter suddenly had a lot to be thankful for.