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Chapter Text

Peter Parker realised that he was different when he was five. He was shopping with his parents, and instead of being like the other girls and going straight to the pink dresses and purple skirts, he walked straight over to the boy’s section. He didn’t want dresses or pretty colourful things like the other girls, he wanted trousers and shirts like the boys.

Peter Parker realised that he liked having a boy’s name when he was six. His parents had died a few months before and he was playing a male character in the school production. At the time he forced himself to hate it when the girls complained at their boy parts, but when he went back to his girl’s name afterwards, he felt sick.

Peter Parker realised that he was trans when he was eight. He’d never heard the term ‘trans’, but when he was accidentally referred to as ‘him’ by a teacher it lit up his entire world. He asked Ned to call him ‘he’ and ‘him’ instead, and whenever he heard himself be called those pronouns he felt warm and safe and happy. Ned, who’s uncle was trans, told him about the label, and that’s when he realised that he was a boy.

Peter Parker came out to May and Ben at ten. They smiled and hugged him and said that he was their special little boy. That was the day he cut his hair and changed his name to Peter. And it was the happiest day of his life.

And Peter was proud to be a trans man.

The only problem? Well…there were a few problems.

[][][]

Peter climbed into his bedroom through the window like usual, red and blue suit clinging to his body comfortably. He crept across his room, casting a quick glance at the clock on his wall and deducing that May would already be asleep.

His room was dark, but Peter knew his way around. Carefully, he shut his window and walked over to his closet, ready to pull out a hoodie. He could feel binder tight against his chest, and silently cursed himself.

Peter wasn’t supposed to wear his binder whilst out as Spider-Man. He wasn’t supposed to wear it whilst doing exercise at all, but how would he be Spider-Man if he had boobs? Besides, the skintight suit would show his boobs too much, and that wasn’t something Peter would ever be comfortable with. He couldn’t wait until the day he saved enough money to get top surgery.

The teen cast a glance to the jar of money on his bedside table, illuminated by the moonlight enough so that ‘surgery savings’ could clearly be read on the side of it. The jar was pretty full by now, which made Peter smile, it wouldn’t be too long now. It was a stroke of luck—rare for Peter and his Parker Luck—that Tony hadn’t seen it when he first came to the apartment. The man had walked straight past it, giving Peter enough time to throw it into the closet when he grabbed his suit.

That was another thing. Tony didn’t know yet. If he did, Peter was sure the billionaire would have found a way to invent a binder capable of being worn during sports. That would be a big help.

But the problem with coming out to Tony? Peter was pretty scared that Tony might be homophobic or transphobic. Every time Peter mentioned LGBTQ+ things, Tony was always quick to change the subject. Every time that happened, Peter was sent back into the rabbit hole of ‘holy crap is Mr. Stark homophobic?’ and ‘he’ll never accept me for being trans.’

So for now, no coming out to Tony. The only people who knew were May, Ned, MJ, his teachers and classmates, and Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha only knew because it turned out that she was trans too, a fact that Peter was over the moon to find out. He was the only one to know too. He’d had a bit of an incident at the Tower—which Tony bought back when the Rogue Avengers moved back in—and tried to find a tampon in Natasha’s room, only for the spy to come round the corner and say she was trans and didn’t get her period. She then guided Peter to Wanda’s room for some tampons instead, and promised to keep Peter’s secret as long as he kept her’s.

But the point is, Tony could not know. At least not yet.

Peter sighed and slipped his suit off with practiced ease before throwing it into his wardrobe and shutting the door quietly. He looked into his mirror at himself in boxers and a binder. A few bruises littered his body, but other than that he was okay. Or as okay a body could be for a guy only newly started on T.

For a while Peter had hated looking in the mirror, even when he had his binder on. The way his shoulders were too narrow, his collarbone was too delicate and defined, his hips too wide and waist too thin, curves too visible, the way there was a slight bulge missing from between his legs.

But now, after months working out and starting T, he was growing more comfortable. His shoulders were getting broader, his muscles hid the feminine figure quite a bit, his waist was wider, and there still wasn’t a bulge between his legs but he was comfortable with that now. Or at least he was more comfortable than before.

Peter let out a breath and winced when his rib sent a burning pain shooting through his side.

“Shit,” he breathed. Peter carefully lifted his arms and pulled off the binder to reveal a purple mark where his ribs were. “Not again,” he whispered under his breath.

He really needed his top surgery soon or he was going to end up with broken ribs again. The first time he went out as Spider-Man he didn’t use his binder because it had grown too small for him and he was waiting for another one, so he bound his chest with bandages, only to end up breaking one of his ribs really badly. Now he never used bandages or tape anymore, just his binder, which meant he occasionally had trouble breathing after strenuous patrols, as well as the occasional cracked rib.

Peter threw his binder under his bed and pulled on his hoodie. It was oversized and perfect for night when he wanted a break from wearing his binder or sports bra. He once again looked to the mirror and smiled lightly at the sight that the hoodie covered his boobs well.

He quickly brushed his teeth and checked his phone before climbing into bed, and fell into a restful sleep.

[][][]

“Kid, wake up.”

Peter groaned and buried his face in his pillow. It was too early for Ben to wake him up, he wanted to sleep more- wait, Ben?

“Jesus you’re lazy, get up, Pete.”

The teen opened his eyes and stared up at the man in front of him. Through blurry eyes Peter couldn’t make out who it was, but he only knew two men who called him ‘kid’. One was Ben, and if this wasn’t Ben, then that meant-

“Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed. He dived for his bed covered and pulled them up so that they covered his chest, then mentally slapped himself, because that didn’t seem suspicious at all.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him and Peter stared back with wide and now alert eyes. There was a brief moment where the two just stared at each other, before Tony chuckled awkwardly and sat down on Peter’s bed.

“Mornin’ kiddo,” the man said, smiling warmly.

Peter shuffled into a sitting position, hunching over and pulling the covers up to his shoulders to hide his boobs. “Uh, good morning?” he squeaked.

“You really sleep a hell of a lot, don’t you kid?” Tony laughed. “I thought you’d be one of those teenagers who’s always up and about in the mornings.”

Peter chuckled, and hoped that it didn’t sound as nervous as it did to his own ears. “Y-yeah, I guess I just stayed up too late on patrol last night, I don’t usually sleep this long.”

Peter didn’t even know what time it was, but his mind was too focused on don’t let Tony see, don’t let him know, to realise that.

Tony leaned over and patted the teen on the shoulder. “More like staying up too late watching Star Wars, if I know you, which I do,” he said proudly. “But, down to business, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am kind of confused about why you’re in my room right now,” Peter breathed, staring at Tony through slightly squinted eyes. He shuffled and made sure that the covers were definitely hiding his breasts.

Tony stood up and clasped his hands together in his usual dramatic fashion. “I need your help.”

Peter blanched. “You need my what?” He let the covers drop down a bit in his surprise.

“Your help,” Tony repeated with an amused smirk. “The others are currently downtown fighting a guy with a fishbowl head and illusion technology, and Bruce and Steve are both already out. So, come on kiddo, no time to lose.”

As quickly as possible, Peter flung off his covers and rushed to the bathroom, hunching over as he did so that Tony wouldn’t notice anything. He slammed the door shut behind him and ran from place to place in the small bathroom—toothbrush, deodorant, face wash, bind—

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, no, no, no, no, no,” he muttered. “Shit.”

He had left his binder under his bed. Right where Tony was.

The teen took a few calming breaths. He could just go out and say that he needed to change to get Tony to leave the room so he could grab his binder, easy as that. But what if Tony saw it? What if Tony was looking at it right now and Peter was just in here panicking about the exact situation he was currently thinking of?

Peter sucked in a ragged breath. “Calm down, you’re fine,” he whispered under his breath. “Tony won’t find out, it’s fine.”

After a moment his breathing returned to normal and Peter steeled himself to open the door.

Only to find exactly what he didn’t want to see.

Tony was knelt down on the floor, his hand stuck underneath Peter’s bed, and was looking underneath as if searching for something. Peter just stood there and stared, his mind racing.

It wasn’t until Tony turned and looked at him that Peter snapped out of his panicked daze. “You alright, kiddo?” he asked, his smirk amused but his eyes showing that soft concern that Peter was seeing more and more of.

Peter sucked in a breath and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling like Tony was staring straight at it. “Yep,” he said smoothly. “Yeah, I’m great. What’re- uh, what’re you doing?”

The teen stopped himself from rushing forwards when Tony again turned and began feeling under the bed again. “Looking for your suit,” Tony replied, voice slightly muffled. “I noticed you didn’t have your trapdoor anymore so I thought it might be under here.”

Peter cast a quick glance at his ceiling, Tony was right, the trapdoor had been covered a few weeks ago by a Star Wars hanging of the Death Star. It was so that May was more reassured that Peter wasn’t hiding anything from her again. It was also a pretty obvious hiding spot for the suit, not that his cupboard was much better but it was the best he had.

“No,” Peter told Tony as calmly as possible. At the thought of his binder, Peter grew suddenly much more aware of his breasts, and with it came a nausea he only got when he thought about his female body. “No, the suit isn’t under there. There really isn’t anything under there so you can stop-”

“Peter.”

Peter froze. He swallowed thickly. Tony never called him Peter. It was always ‘kid’ or ‘kiddo’ or ‘Pete.’ Never Peter.

He saw Tony tense up and slowly—excruciatingly slowly—leaned back to sit back on his knees. In his hand, held aloft and by two fingers as if it were something disgusting, was Peter’s binder.

Peter felt his breathing pick up, but despite it he squeezed his arms around his chest even more. In two, three, four, out two, three, four, in two-

“Peter,” Tony’s voice sounded again. Peter’s eyes snapped to the man’s, and he couldn’t help but pick up on the way Tony was looking between him and the binder with an unreadable expression. It was almost blank, but there was something in his eyes that Peter just couldn’t work out.

“Yeah?” Peter squeaked quietly, trying to prolong the inevitable. An excuse, I need an excuse, he thought quickly.

“Why do you have a binder?” Tony asked, voice flat and emotionless.

Peter sucked in a shaky breath. “It’s- it’s my friend’s,” he lied, voice wobbly. “He came round the other day for a study session and had to- to take it off, because he couldn’t wear it for longer than about nine hours. He left it here by accident and- and I forgot to give it back to him.”

Tony stared straight at Peter for a few tense minutes, during which Peter could just feel everything. The way his breasts were squashed against his skin by his arms, the way his hoodie sat on his hips that still stuck out too much, the way his thigh tingled where he took his T injections.

Tony stood up, binder still in his hand. “You’re fine with that sort of stuff?” he asked, eyebrow raised. Usually that action felt familiar to Peter, this time it felt threatening.

“Y-yeah,” Peter admitted quietly.

Tony stared for a moment, before throwing the binder onto Peter’s desk. “We should get to the mission, kid,” he said suddenly, clapping his hands together and letting his usual smug smile break across his face. “Can’t let fishbowl guy get the better of us, huh?”

Peter hesitated a moment. Tony had changed the subject again, like he always did. “Yeah,” he replied, faking a bright tone. “Let’s go!”

He tried to get himself excited, but he felt the urge to glance at the binder and couldn’t stop feeling the wrongness of his body. The idea of putting on a skintight suit made Peter feel sick. Maybe he could put on his old suit? The first one with the hoodie? It was pretty wrecked but it was wearable.

Tony smiled warmly and stepped forwards to ruffle Peter’s hair, unaware of the boy’s inner panic. “Get your suit and let’s go, I’ll wait outside.”

Peter watched as Tony crossed the room and left, closing the door behind him. The teen waited a few seconds to hear the footsteps retreat and the sound of Tony and May talking before the shutting of the front door, before then launching himself straight at the binder.

He ripped off his hoodie in a rush and pulled the binder on so violently that his ribs screamed at him in protest. Peter drew in a deep breath to calm himself before adjusting his breasts and looking in the mirror.

He turned to the side. He turned to the other side.

And he marvelled at the flatness of his chest.

Peter sank to the floor and felt the sudden urge to cry. That had been too close, way too close, and the sudden dysphoria attack left him too tired to do anything. He just sat there, crumpled on the floor, for at least three minutes before struggling to his feet and pulling out his suit.

Peter pulled on the suit slowly, then looked in the mirror and smiled a little. He didn’t look as bad as he thought he would. His chest was flat, and that’s what was important at the minute. The other things were problems for later.

He took one last deep breath, a warm feeling spreading through him when he felt the binder against his chest, before pulling on the mask and jumping out of the window.

Chapter Text

Peter had been taking testosterone injections for three years. The first time he got his injection, Ben and May were holding his hands as the doctor stuck the needle into Peter’s skin and injected the hormones. He used to hate needles, but he smiled the entire time.

He had his first ten injections at the doctors, and after that they trusted him to give it to himself. May and Ben on the other hand, they really didn’t. So even when taking the injections at home, Peter never did it himself. He couldn’t blame his aunt and uncle for being overprotective, especially with May being a nurse and fretting about Peter accidentally giving himself too much or snapping the needle inside his skin, but he needed to learn to do it himself.

The first time Peter took the T injection himself it was three days before he was going on a sleepover to Ned’s house. It had been two months since he started the hormone therapy and amazingly and much to Peter’s joy he was already seeing changes in the way his voice was starting to crack and his waist was starting to fill out more. But, he needed to know how to do it in case he was ever alone. So, without May and Ben knowing, he grabbed the T injection and stabbed himself in the leg with it. He did it all right, but May was pretty pissed. Ben was just proud that Peter had the courage to do it himself.

Since then, Peter always took his T injections with either May or Ben with him, but he always did it himself with no help. It was nice, especially because it helped him feel more himself, and it was incredible to see the way May and Ben’s faces lit up every time he took the shot.

Then Ben died, and it became a tradition to make sure May was there for every single T injection Peter did. Ben loved to be there, so did May, and with him gone it didn’t feel right for Peter to take it alone, even when he wanted to. Peter always postponed his shot instead of taking it alone now.

Or at least…he did always postpone it.

[][][]

Peter paced around his room impatiently, backpack clung in his hand, dragging along the carpeted floor. He was going to the Avengers Tower for a full week, supposedly for some training thing with the newest Avengers, getting them used to working as a team and things like that. It was probably just an excuse to get everyone together for movie nights, but Peter didn’t mind.

What he did mind was that he was supposed to take his testosterone injection tomorrow, meaning he’d have to do it alone.

Without May.

Just him.

All alone.

By himself.

Peter sucked in a breath and rubbed his thumb in the middle of his chest, an action he had started to do that calmed him down. Being able to feel flatness in the centre of his chest, even when he didn’t have his binder on, sent waves of relief through him every time, and he did it so much that it became a habit.

If it wasn’t obvious, Peter was extremely worried about taking his injection alone. Not that he wanted to let May know that, otherwise she wouldn’t let him go, and he really wanted to spend time with Tony and Natasha, so no telling May that he was nervous. No way.

A knock on his door made Peter spin around quickly, to be met by his aunt’s head poking around the door. “You ready?” she asked cheerfully, a smile printed on her face.

Peter grinned, pushing the nerves about his injection to the back of his mind. “Yep!”

He followed May out of the room and down the stairs to the street, where Happy’s car was waiting. Happy also didn’t know about Peter being trans, he probably wouldn’t care that much.

“You sure you have everything?” May spoke up as the walked towards the car.

Peter adjusted the strap on his shoulder. “I have everything,” he assured her. “I double checked upstairs.”

They reached the car door and May stopped, looking torn. She turned to Peter and gently tilted his head up by his chin so that he looked straight into her eyes. Peter could see how nervous she was, how she was so tempted to tell him not to go.

And honestly? Part of Peter didn’t want to go.

“Peter,” May said, lowering her voice so only he could hear in the street full of busy civilians. “Are you sure you’re okay to take it by yourself?”

Peter hesitated, his mind racing for a moment. “Yeah,” he lied. His voice came out squeaky and more high pitched than usual. “Yeah—” he dropped the pitch—“yeah, I’m fine to take it myself, May. I’m old enough to do it on my own.”

May ran her hands through his hair and Peter leaned gratefully into the touch. “I know, honey,” she murmured. “But I worry about you. It’s not been the same for you since Ben, and I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready to do.”

Peter’s eyes dropped to his feet. “I know, May,” he replied quietly. “But I’m fine to do this. If I really struggle then I can Facetime you or something, okay?”

“Okay, honey,” May smiled. She quickly leaned down and kissed the top of his head before stepping back. “Off you go then, shouldn’t keep Stark waiting.”

Peter grinned and opened the car door, quickly throwing his bag inside without even looking. “Bye, May!”

May gave a wave as Peter clambered clumsily into the backseat of the car and shut the door. Even with the door closed he could hear May’s breathing, and the way it was slightly more shaky than usual. That meant she was nervous.

And so was Peter.

The car pulled away without even a word from Happy, so Peter quickly slipped out his phone and headphones and started to listen to his playlist. He closed his eyes as Daughter by Ryan Cassata came on, and leaned his head against the window, finally winding down from the constant stress of his impending injection.

[][][]

The first day went great. Peter and Tony spent most of the day in the lab, then went down for a movie night with the rest of the Avengers. It was fun, and Peter easily forgot all his worries about the T injection.

Until the next morning.

Peter sat at the table chewing on toast slowly, his leg bouncing under the table. He could feel the zip up pack in his back pocket, hidden by his oversized hoodie, and just couldn’t take his mind off of it.

“You alright, kiddo?”

Peter’s head whipped up from the table to see Tony sitting next to him. When did he get here? “Uh, hey Mr. Stark!”

Tony chuckled softly. “Hey, kid. You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Peter lied. He swallowed thickly and had to stop himself from choking on his toast.

“Your leg is bouncing so much it looks like it’s going to fly off, Pete,” Tony said, gesturing to Peter’s still bouncing leg.

The teen smiled nervously. “I’m good, yeah, just really excited for training today, you know? It’ll be really cool sparring with Miss Maximoff.”

His mentor studied him for a moment. “Yeah, kid. Make sure you kick her ass, kid, okay? Don’t let the goth witch get any hits in.”

Across the room Peter saw Wanda frown in offence before going back to her conversation with Vision. Peter then let out a little chuckle. “‘Course, Mr. Stark. Gotta impress Mr. Rogers, make sure he knows to recruit me next time,” Peter teased, albeit slightly distractedly as he looked at the clock.

Tony gasped in mock offence. “Kid, you wound me.”

Peter blew out a little breath. “Hey, I have to go get something from my room, I’ll meet you guys out there,” he said. He might as well get the shot over now instead of worrying about it all day.

Tony frowned at the sudden change. “Sure, kiddo. Get FRIDAY to get me if you need anything.”

Peter nodded quickly and hopped off his seat, before striding quickly towards his room and shutting the door behind him. He sighed heavily and plopped himself down on his bed, shuffling his jeans down enough to expose his thigh.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “You can do this, you can do this.”

Carefully he organised the shot and held it next to the skin of his thigh, hesitating. He could picture Ben sitting across from him, practically hear the echo of his supportive words, and with it came a burning sensation in Peter’s chest.

He felt tears well up in his eyes and his vision blurred. “Dammit,” he muttered, dragging in a ragged breath. He wiped his eyes and pinched the skin by his thigh so tight he could feel it bruising, but the feeling grounded him. “Come on Spider-Man, come on Spider-Man.”

Peter could feel his chest tightening with an invisible rope. He sucked in a breath only for it to stutter and die before he could get all the air he needed. He could feel himself hyperventilating, but suddenly his brain wasn’t registering it, instead he was back two years ago taking another shot with Ben at his side.

“You’re doing so good, Peter.”

“I am?”

“‘Course, kid. You know what to do next, just stick the needle in and inject it, simple as that.”

“I know, Uncle Ben.”

“There you go! See? Easy peasy.”

“Thanks, Ben.”

“For what, kiddo?”

“Being here with me, helping me. I know that this is what I want to do, but it’s really scary sometimes.”

“Peter, you are the bravest kid I’ve ever met, and this is a big thing, so it’s okay to be scared. But I’m always going to be here to help you, okay? I’ll be right here every time.”

So where are you now, Ben?

“Peter, you appear to be in distress, would you like me to contact someone?”

Peter blinked back to his room and was flooded with a sense of panic. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to breathe. Peter was distantly aware that he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks and the hand holding the needle shaking dangerously. But right now he couldn’t breathe.

“I- I-,” Peter choked. He clawed at his throat with the hand not holding the needle as if it would loosen the tight feeling. He distantly knew that it wouldn’t, but it was worth a try because he needed to breathe. “Ro- Romano- Romanoff.”

“I have contacted Natasha for you, just keep trying to breathe, Peter,” FRIDAY’s voice sounded distantly.

Peter must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing he knew there were hands on his arms pulling him back into the present. Through blurred vision he could make out red hair.

Red like the blood from Ben’s head.

No.

Red like Natasha’s hair.

“Nat- Natasha,” Peter choked out. His hands reached out blindly for the woman and he soon found the familiar leather of her jacket.

“Just breathe, Peter, it’s okay. You can breath, just follow me, okay? In for four then out for four, ready? One, two, three, four, good! Now out, two, three, four, you’re doing so good, маленький паук! Just keep doing that, okay?”

After a few moments Peter felt the rope around his chest release him, and he fell forwards into Natasha’s arms. The spy wrapped her arms around the teen and Peter buried his face in her jacket, mentally noting to apologise for getting his tears and probably snot all over it later.

“You okay, паук?” Natasha’s voice asked, soft and gentle.

Peter pulled out of the hug and sat back on the bed, noticing that the spy now held the needle instead of him.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

Natasha smiled sadly. “Are you really okay?” She held up the needle as the proof that Peter knew was all she needed to know the actual answer.

He shook his head, feeling ready to cry again but knowing his body was too tired. “I- I’ve never done it alone before,” he admitted in a shaky voice. “Ben was- Ben was always there every time. Then May after that.”

Natasha’s eyes softened even more. Only she and Tony knew about what happened to Ben, everyone else just knew he lived with his aunt and that was as much as they were allowed to know for now. Natasha had been there the first time Peter had a nightmare about that day at the Tower, and since then she’d always understood and been there just as much as Tony.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” Natasha offered.

Peter sighed in relief and exhaustion. “Yes please,” he said with a small smile.

Natasha held his hand as she stuck the needle in and held it as she packed the injection away, and still held it as she drew him into another hug.

Peter smiled into her shoulder. “Thank you, Miss Romanoff.”

“I’m happy you called me, Peter, and I’m glad to help any time you need it,” she breathed. “And I think we’re way past ‘Miss Romanoff’ by now, huh?”

Peter’s smile grew wider. “Okay, Natasha.”

He heard the spy’s soft chuckle. “Wow, that’ll take some getting used to, маленький паук. You okay to do training? I can always say you’re sick.”

The teen shook his head against her shoulder. “No, I want to see if I can beat Wanda.”

Natasha hugged him tighter. “You’re an amazing kid, Peter. How about next time you’re at the Tower and have to take a shot, I’ll do it with you? I can be here every time you do it, so then you won’t be alone. I promise.”

“Okay, it’s a promise.”

Chapter Text

One thing Peter absolutely hated was using the toilet in public. At home? Fine. But at school or anywhere else he just panicked.

He didn’t know which one to use half the time, especially when out with people who didn’t know. With May it was a little easier, she would be fine with him using the women’s bathroom on days that he wasn’t too sure which to use. But if he was out with people who didn’t know, then he either used the men’s—which partly didn’t feel right yet—or the women’s—which felt horribly wrong every time—and confused the hell of out everyone. On the rare occasion there was a gender neutral toilet, it was bliss.

He’d talked about this with Natasha before, at which point in this was it acceptable for him to use the right bathroom, what was he supposed to do in the men’s room if he was on his period, that sort of thing. Natasha had just smiled and hugged him close and said that it was different for everyone. Which was nice, but not exactly helpful.

So Peter just carried on struggling along, looking up laws and on trans chat rooms online to see if he could finally decide wether to use the men’s bathroom in public or not.

Now Peter usually wasn’t that stressed when out with people, he’d just hold it or he’d sneak off and use the toilet when no one was watching.

But this time he was terrified.

Because he was out for a meal with the Avengers. The Avengers that included his probably already suspicious father-figure mentor, two spy agents, three ex-soldiers, a mind reading witch, a robot synthetic human thing, and more.

So yeah, he was pretty worried about being found out.

[][][]

Peter took another bite of his food and covered his mouth as he laughed at Steve, who’d had potato smudged on his nose by Bucky.

The group was having a great time, laughing and sharing stories and just being positive, it was really great.

Wanda and Vision were more focused on each other than the group, but that was fine. Everyone really was just having a great time, and it felt like a big family. Peter supposed that’s really what it was.

“So you’re telling me that you went to a pet shop to try to find a horse?” Steve laughed at Thor, wiping his nose with a napkin and sending a playful glare towards Bucky.

Thor chuckled. “Yes, Captain. It was my first time on Midgard, you can’t exactly blame me for thinking that at a shop that sells animals they would have a horse.”

Sam shrugged. “I guess. You guys think Loki made the same mistake when he first arrived?”

“If he’d done that I would have laughed so hard I’d break myself out of the mind control,” Clint snickered. At that there was another round of laughter.

Peter giggled in his seat next to Tony, who wrapped an arm round the kid and pulled him close. “Enjoying the meal, kiddo?” he asked softly.

Peter beamed up at Tony. “Yep! Thanks for inviting me.”

“‘Course kid, you’re a big part of this team now, Avengers next generation,” Tony said with a smirk and a shrug.

Peter tuned back into the others’ conversation as Bruce spoke. “That horse thing is nothing compared to Steve saying ‘language’ back during Ultron.”

Everyone who was there for that laughed, while the others just grinned warmly. It was perfect.

And that’s when Peter’s smile fell. The worst thing that could possibly happen during a meal with the Avengers, other than dying embarrassingly, was happening.

He needed the toilet.

He sent a glance over to Natasha, who in all her spy skills had noticed the moment he stopped smiling. Peter’s eyes then flicked to the direction of the toilets and back to her, and she nodded knowingly.

Under the table he felt her tap his leg three times. That meant she believed in him.

It was a little system they’d set up a while ago. One tap meant that they probably shouldn’t attempt what they were going to do, two taps meant to go ahead but be careful, three meant that they believed in the other and were there for support, and four meant that they were here, just a simple reminder that it was okay and the other was there for them.

The system worked both ways, and Peter was so glad for it. It calmed him down constantly, and on the rare occasion that he’d seen Natasha panic, it calmed her down too.

Peter swallowed thickly. “Um, I’m gonna go to the toilet, I’ll be back in a minute.”

The others nodded absent-mindedly, their attention stolen by Bucky who was telling another story about Steve being an idiot back before the serum. Peter put on a smile in case anyone looked at him as he got up and walked towards the toilets. They were just round the corner, out of view from their table thankfully.

Peter blew out a breath and looked between them two doors. On the right was the men’s, on the left was the women’s. Peter had absolutely no idea which to choose.

He could go into the men’s and feel like an imposter. Despite being a boy, he still found himself feeling uncomfortable when he used the boy’s bathroom whilst still having girl’s parts. It made him feel like he was faking, even though he wasn’t.

Or he could go into the women’s and face dysphoria and possible transphobes. Now that Peter was passing it was really hard for him to use the women’s and not get weird glances or people kicking him out or calling managers. It didn’t help that he felt just as bad using the women’s as he felt using the men’s, feeling like he was lying and was wrong both physically and mentally.

It was times like this when Peter really felt like he didn’t belong.

He looked around and noticed that he was getting a few weird glances from people seated nearby, probably wondering why a teenager was staring at the toilets as if they were scaring him. And honestly? They were.

Peter blew out another heavy breath and picked the left door, but before he could fully open it he heard a voice behind him.

“Pete, that’s the women’s bathroom.”

Peter shot around to see Tony behind him with an amused smile. He chuckled nervously, crap crap crap crap crap.

“Whoops,” Peter said and stepped away from the women’s toilets. “Guess I need to look at the signs better next time.”

“Maybe the spider didn’t fix all the bad eyesight,” Tony teased, but his gaze was assessing Peter curiously. He began to walk towards the men’s toilet and Peter screamed internally. “Come on then kiddo, gotta use the right one or you’re gonna either see something you don’t want to see or freak the hell out of some poor woman. Or both.”

Peter put on a smile that felt fake, hopefully it didn’t look it, and followed Tony into the men’s room. Tony headed straight towards the urinals, while Peter rushed to lock himself in a stall. He heaved a few heavy breaths before sitting down and holding his head in his hands.

He was in the toilets, with Tony of all people right outside. This was something Peter panicked about constantly, and now it was happening.

After a few moments he heard the door again, and breathed out a relieved sigh. Tony had left.

Peter managed to go, and after a minute opened the stall door confidently, only to jump back with a scream when he bumped straight into Tony.

The man crossed his hands over his chest and laughed. “Jesus, kid, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he chuckled. “It’s just me.”

Honestly I’d prefer a ghost right now.

Peter smiled a little and chuckled a breathy laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, wasn’t expecting you to be standing there.”

“It’s all good kiddo,” Tony smiled. “You get washed up and I’ll head back.” Peter watched as Tony strode towards the door, only to stop and call back, “And kid? Make sure you read the sign properly next time. Don’t want you using the wrong bathroom or anything.”

The second the door closed behind Tony, Peter let out a huge sigh and staggered to the sink, nerves making his hands shake as he washed them. He splashed some water in his face and allowed himself a minute to calm down.

“That was way too close,” he breathed.

He took another minute for his hands to stop shaking and his face to dry off a bit before heading back to the table. He sat down in the seat next to Tony without meeting the man’s eyes and instead stared down at his meal.

Under the table he felt four taps against his leg. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

Chapter Text

Peter hated always having to worry about wether he was going to suddenly start bleeding. Not as in his injuries as Spider-Man—although that was a worry—but as in his period. Because life wasn’t hard enough for him already.

The testosterone injections stopped them, but there was always the chance he’d suddenly start bleeding for a few hours or even a few days. It wasn’t normal for a guy on T, Peter was a rare case where the injections didn’t always stop the bleeding. That’s why the next thing on his list after top surgery was definitely a hysterectomy.

It was horrible waking up to find himself covered in blood. It wasn’t that rare, what with his injuries as a vigilante, but somehow it was even worse when it was his period.

The worst thing was, it always came at the worst times. A few examples:

The middle of a Decathlon competition.

In the middle of his end of year exam.

The night before the airport fight in Germany.

So yeah, they always came at the worst possible times. It sucked. But so far Peter had yet to have any close calls with the Avengers and his period, other than the situation where Natasha found out.

But there’s a first time for everything.

[][][]

“You falling asleep on me over there, kiddo?”

Peter started at Tony’s voice and whipped around. They were in the middle of a lab session, Happy had picked him up and whisked him straight to the Tower for some more science with his mentor.

And Peter loved lab days. Even when things went wrong. The small explosions, the injuries, the accidental arson. Peter still loved every moment.

“Nah,” Peter chuckled. He looked back down at the robot arm he was working on and frowned. “Can’t seem to get this to work, though.”

“Lemme have a look, kid.” He heard Tony shuffle behind him and walk over, then the man came to stand beside him and lean over the table with him. Tony peered down at the circuitry with a focused look. “All the wires are connected right,” he muttered.

“Exactly, and I have the right voltage,” Peter pointed out with a shrug. “I can’t tell what I’ve done wrong.”

Tony let out a sigh and picked up the arm to give it a closer look. Peter watched him intently, trying to see if he could spot what he’d done wrong. It was infuriating, he’d been working on the robot arm for so long and now he couldn’t even get it to work.

“I really can’t tell why it’s not working,” Tony said with a frown. “Let me look at your code.”

Peter nodded and opened his code, then tilted the screen to show Tony. The man stared at it and carefully read through every line while Peter just watched in anticipation and confusion.

Suddenly Tony seemed to have a light bulb moment and smiled to himself. “Ah okay, so you put in the code for it to do all of this but you mistyped the code to allow it to execute the commands. Look here, see how the code doesn’t match the subject? You’ll need to just rewrite that part and-”

Peter had been listening, completely focused on the man’s words, but he couldn’t help but let his voice drift into the background when he felt it. Peter blew out a breath and subtly tried to touch the back of his trousers without Tony seeing.

And when he brought his hand back into his view, he saw red on his finger.

Peter let out a small gasp, no longer listening to Tony’s voice droning on about the coding mistakes. Coding had never been Peter’s strong suit. He was much too focused on the fact that his period had chosen now of all times to appear.

Sorry Steve Rogers but what the actual fuck?! Shit!

When Peter noticed Tony had stopped talking, he smiled up at his mentor as believably as possible—which probably wasn’t that believable seeing as Peter was about as good as drama as he was at coding—and said, “Thanks, Mr. Stark. I’ll go fix that but I’m- I’m gonna go to the toilet and grab something from my room so I’ll be back in a minute.”

Tony hesitated a moment, appearing to scan Peter up and down, before he nodded. “Sure, kid. Don’t take too long though, wanna get as much time in before your aunt wants you home.”

Peter nodded quickly and when Tony turned away to his area he shot out of the room as quickly as possible, pulling his Midtown hoodie past his butt as he did so that if he was to run past someone then no one would see. He noticed his breaths coming faster as he sped towards his room, and tried to distract himself from the situation.

Wonder how I did on that science test. Bet MJ got higher than me. But she had to leave halfway through to go to the office because of cramps from her- NOPE.

Peter groaned and opened the door to his bedroom. He was so thankful that he had his own bathroom, especially because he was able to hide pads and tampons in the loose tile in the floor under his basket of dirty clothes, and there was no risk of anyone finding them. And FRIDAY hadn’t questioned it, so that was good.

Peter rushed to lock the bathroom door behind him, and instantly took off his trousers. There was a large bloodstain on them already—stupid heavy flow—and when Peter removed his boxers too he found them in an even worse state. He cursed under his breath and shoved the clothes in a plastic bag, he could take them home and clean them when May was out.

Then he turned to grab a tampon from his hiding place.

But there were none there.

“Holy crap on a cracker!” Peter yelled in panic. “No, no, no, no, no. This cannot be happening.” He blew out a breath. “It’s fine, it’s all fine, I can grab some from Wanda’s room. She’s out training with Clint. It’ll be fine.”

He grabbed a wad of tissue and shoved it between his legs, then grabbed the bag of clothes and started towards the door.

“Peter, you appear to be trying to hide bloodstained clothes, are you alright? Would you like me to contact someone?”

Peter’s eyes widened and he froze on the spot, halfway through the doorway back into his bedroom. “N-no, FRIDAY, I’m all good.”

He continued towards his wardrobe and quickly changed into a new pair of boxers and

“I don’t think attempting to hide a bag of bloodstained clothes is very good, Peter,” the AI chastised.

Peter frowned, still perched on the end of his bed. “Why did Mr. Stark make you so sarky? I’m fine, FRI.”

“You’re bleeding.”

The teenager rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I’m not hurt or anything, I just- don’t tell Mr. Stark. Or anyone else. It’s not important.”

He waited a moment to see if FRIDAY would respond, and when she didn’t Peter shoved the bag of clothes into his backpack and piled some of his books on top just in case.

“Next stop, Wanda’s room,” he muttered.

He walked out of his bedroom—more accurately he shuffled with the toilet paper between his legs—until he reached Wanda’s room. He looked around nervously, before opening the door and stepping in.

Wanda had a really nice room. It was a bit bigger than his own, and was decorated less…nerdy. She even had a guitar in the corner, Peter really wanted to ask her to play something but then she would know he had been in her room.

Peter made his way into her bathroom and did a quick search through her cupboard until he found a few boxes of tampons and smiled. One was already open, so he slipped one of the tampons into his pocket and stood up. He could buy more when he got home, one would suffice for now.

“Thank you, Wanda,” he whispered under his breath.

“You’re welcome.”

Peter let out a scream and whipped around. Wanda was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and a smug smile on her face.

“You can take more than that if you’d like,” she said after a moment. “I won’t need them for a little while longer and besides, as you can see I have a few extra boxes.”

Peter spluttered. “You- I- the- what?!”

Wanda let out a little laugh. “It’s fine, little spider. I know all about you being trans, and it’s fine. Glad I can be of service.” She gestured to the cupboard of tampon boxes.

“You knew? How?” Peter asked in shock. At the knowledge that she was okay with it he felt his body loosen.

Wanda shrugged. “I caught Natasha stealing a box of tampons but didn’t leave the tower with them, and I knew they weren’t for her and there were no other girls in the tower so the only other option was a boy in the tower needed them. I knew Steve was cisgender, and Tony too. Clint was a possibility but after so long with him I believe he would have told me if it was him. It couldn’t be Vision, and it clearly wasn’t Bruce because of the Hulk not presenting as female or with scars from a top surgery. And the others don’t stay at the tower very often. That left you.”

Peter’s mouth dropped open. “Wow,” he breathed. “You’re good.”

The woman smiled. “Thank you, Peter. Now you might want to go and sort your situation out before you bleed through your clothes. Feel free to use my bathroom, I’ll step outside.”

Wanda left and Peter blew out a breath. Now someone else knew. Honestly, he wasn’t surprised it was the mind reading witchy person. He just didn’t think that this would be how she found out. Process of elimination and his spider sense not warning him about someone coming into the room.

He quickly sorted himself out and opened the door. Wanda was perched on the end of her bed with a soft smile. She patted the bed next to her and Peter walked over and sat down.

“You- you won’t tell anyone, will you?” he asked nervously.

Wanda smiled down at him. “Peter, you are like a little brother to me,” she said gently. “Me and Pietro, we always used to share little secrets that only the two of us knew. I would love it if we could trust each other like that. You- you remind me of him. Of course I won’t tell anyone about it. Natasha trusted me with her secret too and that was many years ago when I read her mind back with Ultron. I don’t like to brag but I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Peter smiled. “‘Course, Wanda. I’ve never had a sibling or even a like-a-sibling, but you feel like an older sister a lot of the time. I trust you with anything. And…I’m kind of glad that someone else knows.”

He really was. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. Keeping it a secret was so hard sometimes, and now he had two Avengers to help him out. It was honestly really nice.

“It’s also nice to have another LGBTQ+ person on the team,” Wanda said suddenly. “That’s three now that I know of. We could start a club.”

“Three?”

“You, Natasha and me,” she replied.

Peter blanched. “Huh?!”

The woman just smiled. “Pink, yellow, blue,” she said simply.

“You’re pan? Awesome!” Peter beamed at Wanda brightly. “I guess that explains why you’re dating a toaster.”

Wanda burst out laughing, and Peter couldn’t help but start laughing too. All of his worries were suddenly forgotten about. It was perfect.

“Boss is asking where you are, Peter. Would you like me to tell him or would you just like to go down there yourself?”

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “She sounds annoyed, what did you say to her?”

“I told her not to tell Tony that I was hiding clothes with blood on it,” Peter chuckled. Wanda snickered in response. “FRI, tell him I’ll be down in a second.”

“You ever need something, wether it’s tampons or pads or even just a sister to talk to, you can come to me, little spider,” Wanda said softly

“Thanks, Wanda.” Peter got to his feet and headed towards the door, only to stop when Wanda called his name.

“Hey, use seltzer water and lemon for getting the bloodstains out,” she said with a strange smile, as if remembering something from long ago. “A friend recommended it to me.”

Peter nodded. “I will. Thanks.”

With that, he headed back down to the lab. For the rest of his lab time he noticed Tony giving him odd looks, but he couldn’t care less. Finally someone else knew, and it was good.

Maybe it was time to tell other people too.

(And the robot arm worked perfectly after a little help from Tony with the code.)

Chapter Text

“You’ve got this, маленький паук.”

Peter managed a nervous little smile up at Natasha. He was sat in Wanda’s room with her and the spy sat on either side of him, a huge trans flag clutched in his hands.

He’d finally decided to do it. He was going to come out to Tony.

At first he’d hoped Natasha and Wanda would come out too, but Natasha wasn’t ready to tell everyone yet, and Wanda never wanted to come out, she was fine with people knowing but didn’t want a big coming out moment. Peter understood both of them, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. And a lot more nervous.

“We’re here for you, little brother,” Wanda said. She buried her nose in Peter’s hair and the boy beamed and leaned into her side.

“Thanks,” he murmured. He pulled away a second later. “I should probably go do it before I think too hard and end up not doing it.”

He felt three taps on his knee and smiled up at Natasha warmly. The redhead smiled softly back. “If you’re not ready you don’t have to do it. Don’t push yourself.”

Peter sighed. “I’m ready,” he said. “I owe this to Mr. Stark, and to myself.”

Natasha pressed a kiss to his head. “Go on then, паук.”

The boy nodded and got to his feet. He walked over to the door, turning back for a moment to see Wanda and Natasha’s supportive smiles, before leaving and making his way towards the elevator.

As soon as he was in and the doors were closed he ran a stressed hand through his hair and leaned heavily against the wall. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. There was so much riding on this going well.

The positive version of what would soon come would be Peter coming out and Tony hugging him and telling him that he’s okay with it and that his view of the teen hadn’t changed. They’d then put on a movie or maybe work on the suits a bit more and everything would be okay.

The negative version of what would soon come would be Peter coming out and Tony rejecting him and telling him that it’s wrong and disgusting and that he never wants to see the teen again. Peter would then lose his father-figure and one of the most important people in his life and nothing would be okay.

And Peter was mentally torturing himself over which one was going to happen.

The elevator doors opened with a small dinging sound and the boy was greeted by the familiar sight of Tony’s lab. The man was on the opposite end of the room facing away from the boy, hunched over a workbench with the breastplate of the Iron Man suit laid out in front of him. His music was playing quietly, and Peter was surprised the man hasn’t heard him enter.

Silently he edged forwards until he reached his own workbench, and he tucked the flag into one of his shelves so that Tony wouldn’t see it straight away. He then took a deep, shaking breath.

“Mr. Stark?”

The man whipped around quickly, a warm smile on his face. “Hey, kiddo! Didn’t hear you come in. FRI, music.” The music cut off quickly and Tony grinned as he took off his welding gloves and threw them on his bench. “What do you need, kid?”

I’m gonna miss this.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Peter asked in a small voice. His hands shook minutely and he hid them under the bench so Tony wouldn’t see.

Tony instantly picked up on the boy’s anxiety. “What’s up, Pete?” He moved so that he was on the other side of Peter’s workbench and his brows furrowed in concern.

“It’s- it’s really serious so can- can you let me talk and not interrupt me? Even if I start to ramble?”

Tony nodded, all traces of previous joking and immaturity now gone and replaced with a worried stare. “Go ahead, kid.”

Peter breathed in a shaking breath and let his eyes roam around the lab one last time. DUM-E and U were sat idle in the corner; Peter loved them and couldn’t help but feel a stab of grief knowing that he’d likely never see them again. His Iron Spider suit was on display on one wall waiting for Peter to one day put it on, but now it seemed that day would never come. All the tools he’d passed to Tony as music blasted and the two worked in unison now lay untouched, and Peter wanted to cry knowing he’d never have another lab day with Tony.

His eyes then found the man’s face. Through the expression of concern etched there, Peter could see all the memories he’d had with the man: movie nights that dragged on until two in the morning because they had to pause every time they laughed too hard or they discussed how certain scenes were made, the eating of ice cream at five in the morning after nightmares where they’d just sit together and know that the other was okay, the team meetings where the man would smile encouragingly whenever Peter wanted to speak up but didn’t have the courage, all the times when he’d had a bad patrol and Tony always—always—came to check on him and make sure he wasn’t hurt and that he was okay.

And now it was all going to go away.

But he was ready. He’d loved his time with Tony, and he’d love it forever. He’d grieve and he’d never forgive himself for giving it all up, but he knew it was time.

He didn’t know what the future would hold, but he’d rather live in a world where he bore the truth than live in one where his image was a lie to even those who looked closer than anyone else.

So Peter took one last shaking breath…

And he said it.

Just two words.

Two words that marked the moment where everything would change. It was funny how just two little words could destroy so much.

And the moment they left his mouth Peter knew there was no going back.

I love you Mr. Stark. I’ve loved our time together, I’ve loved every moment. And I’m so sorry it has to end this way.

“I’m trans.”

He watched the man’s face, watched as the lines of worry faded into a blank expression. His face became unreadable, and Peter couldn’t help but think that was worse than seeing the man angry or disgusted.

Peter took out the flag from under the table and held it up so the man could see it.

“I’m really sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” Peter continued. His voice was growing thick and he could feel a sob rising in his throat. “I didn’t want to hide it from you but I didn’t know how to tell you, I was scared you were going to change your opinion of me. I’m still me, Mr. Stark, and I understand if you don’t want me around anymore and I’m so sorry and I just want to say that I’ve really loved our time together and if you want me to leave then I will and-” The sob escaped his lips and Peter buried his face in his hands—which still gripped the flag—as the tears poured down his face.

It’s all over, I did it, he hates me now, I made the worse mistake of my entire life and I’ve lost him and now I’m never going to get him back.

Just as another sob tore from his throat, Peter felt arms wrap around him and he froze. He sucked in a shaking gasp and looked up to see Tony hugging him.

“What-?” he asked hoarsely, voice breaking.

The man smiled down at him softly. “Peter, you’re my kid. I love you no matter what. Of course I accept you for being trans, why wouldn’t I?”

Peter wiped away some of his tears only for new ones to form instantly. “You’re always- always so weird around that sort of topic,” he choked out. “When you found my binder and- and- and when I told you about MJ being bi.”

Tony drew away with a guilty expression. “Kid I- I always acted that way because…because I’m bisexual.”

Peter had not expected that.

“You’re what?”

Tony shrugged with a nervous smile. “I’m bi. I never told anyone and I was scared that you wouldn’t accept me, kid. I never thought that it was hurting you when I avoided the topic, I’m so sorry.”

Peter thought back to all the times when he was convinced Tony was transphobic.

Tony stood up, binder still in his hand. “You’re fine with that sort of stuff?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

He hasn’t been judging Peter, he was genuinely asking. The teen was hit with the sudden understanding that Tony was just as scared as he was.

“Mr. Stark, that’s awesome,” he grinned. The man visibly relaxed in front of him. “I was so scared this entire time that you’d hate me and you were scared that I’d hate you.”

Tony blew out a breath. “Guess we were both being oblivious, huh?”

“Yeah, we were.”

Peter wiped away the rest of his tears and found Tony’s arms wrapped around him again. “Kid, you are so brave, okay? I’ll love you no matter what, and I’m happy that you trusted me with this.”

“Me too, and I’m happy you trusted me with your thing too,” Peter murmured into Tony’s shoulder. “Does anyone else know?”

“Only Nat and Pepper, what about you?”

“Natasha and Wanda.”

Tony drew away looking offended. “You call them by their first names and not me? The betrayal,” he gasped.

Peter giggled. “You’re still my favourite, Mr. Stark.”

“Good. Now, what do you say to a movie night? Ice creams, popcorn, lemonade, and a couple of blankets.”

“Only if it’s a good movie,” Peter replied.

Tony thought for a moment. “How about Love, Simon?”

Peter grinned. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

So the two of them spent the rest of the evening curled up on the sofa under fluffy blankets, eating popcorn and ice cream and smiling over the movie. They later hung the trans flag in Peter’s room above his bed, and the two of them both came out together to the rest of the team. They all accepted it and were overjoyed at the fact that they were ready to share it.

So it worked out. In the end everything was okay and everything was great. Peter still had Tony, and Tony still had him.

And Peter was happy. He had always been a man.

[][][]

End-credit scene:

Peter yawned loudly as he entered his room and shut the door behind him. It had been a long day of patrolling and catching bad guy and he was definitely ready for bed. His room was dark and he felt around for the light switch.

The second it flicked on he froze.

A figure was standing on the other side of his room, a very familiar figure that Peter never thought he would see.

“Loki?” he breathed.

The god smiled. “Nice to meet you, Peter.”

Peter looked the man up and down, and then again when he realised that he wasn’t a man, he was a boy. Loki was only just taller than him, his face young and his hair tied back to show his softer features. Everything about him showed that the god couldn’t be any older than Peter was himself.

“You’re- you’re my age?” Peter squeaked.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Yes. It appears Thor failed to reveal that information to everyone else.”

“But in the battle-”

“I appeared older so that no one would think less of me,” Loki interrupted. “I’m sure you can understand that.” The god gestured to the Spider-Man suit that Peter was wearing and the boy swallowed nervously.

“Aren’t you dead?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Evidently not. Don’t tell Thor though.”

“What do you want?” Peter asked, eyes flicking around for an escape.

“I heard about you and Stark and your recent revealed secrets. I applaud the two of you for your bravery. I myself am genderfluid and bisexual, so I understand.”

Oh.

Peter relaxed and smiled warmly at the god. “Oh, that’s cool, dude. So you’re not here to hurt me or kidnap me?”

“Norns, no!” Loki gasped, looking outraged. “No, quite the contrary.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “And what’s that?”

The trickster’s smile turned soft. “How would you like to go out for a dinner sometime? There is a lovely little restaurant I found downtown, and I have taken a liking to its food. And to you.”

Peter gaped at the god. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Loki smiled a little. “If it’s a no then I am not.”

The teen thought for a moment. Loki was undeniably hot, and apparently in his age range too. Peter couldn’t help but find himself mesmerised by the god’s brilliant green eyes.

“Okay.”

Loki grinned excitedly. “Okay?”

“Okay, yeah,” Peter shrugged. “Why not? How about tomorrow night? Seven?”

“Sounds like a plan, Peter,” Loki replied. “I’ll pick you up here.”

“Just don’t get caught by Thor,” Peter warned, grinning with barely contained excitement.

“Oh trust me, I won’t.”

With that, the trickster disappeared in a flash of green. Peter perched on the end of his bed and smiled to himself. There was a warm feeling in his chest, and it wasn’t from his binder. No, this was something different. Something Peter was truly looking forward to.

[][][]

End.