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“Here,” Ned said the moment Peter walked through his front door. He thrust a paint roller into Peter’s hand and started lugging him by the sleeve down the hallway. “I need your help.”
“With what?” Peter yanked his arm free but continued to follow him to his room.
He paused at the doorway. Everything he owned was piled in the middle and the walls were half painted in an intense shade of navy blue. It was a massive contrast compared to the original pale tan. He was excited to get it done.
“Why are you painting your room?” Peter sent Ned a puzzled look, his brows furrowed and his head tilted to one side. “Is that even allowed?”
“Yeah!” Ned hauled over a second bucket of paint and prided it open. His family had been renting the same town home since he was seven and he’d never been allowed to paint, no matter how much he begged. He finally had his chance and was determined to take advantage of it. Between the dark paint and the strings of twinkling LED lights he’d bought, he hoped to have his room looking like it was straight out of space by evening. “The new landlord said she didn’t care what we did to the walls as long as we painted them back whenever we moved out. My parents were a little more difficult to convince. They said if I wanted to paint, I had to do it myself.”
Peter huffed a laugh and smirked. “So why am I here?”
“Because I can’t reach that high.” Ned gestured towards the four inches of the wall that he simply couldn’t reach. He wasn’t tall enough. Neither was Peter, technically. The difference was Peter possessed skills that he himself lacked. “I don’t have a stool and don't want to try to balance on a chair while I paint. That’s where you come in.”
“That’s where I come in to do what? Hold the chair for you?”
“No.” Ned scoffed. “Peter. Peter, you can reach the top. All you have to do is climb and voila, you can finish it.”
“Ned.” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I can’t just climb up to your ceiling. What if your parents see me? They’d freak out. And if they freaked out, you'd freak out. Then I would freak out and it would be so bad.”
“That’s the beauty of it, Peter! They aren’t even home!” When Peter continued to look unsure, he folded his hands beseechingly below his chin. “Come on. Please, Peter. I mean, I’m your guy in the chair! I help you; you help me. We can stay up all night watching Star Wars in a room surrounded by stars! It’ll be awesome.”
Peter’s mouth twitched but remained in a tight line. He crossed his arms. The fingers on his right hand tapped against his left bicep. He stood for several seconds glancing around the room and out the second-story window. “Fine,” he eventually gave in. “I’ll do it.”
With one leap, Peter stuck to the ceiling. Ned giggled excitedly. As many times he’d seen Spider-Man climb walls and swing about, it was way cooler to see Peter, as Peter, just- stick to things. “My best friend is Spider-Man,” he whisper-squealed. He looked up, his mouth stretched into a wide grin. “This is so awesome.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure.” Peter held on with his feet and outstretched his hand. “Get me some paint.”
Eagerly, Ned coated the roller and passed it up. Up! Because Peter was on the ceiling! He giddily watched as his friend covered the walls with ease. They went through the motions several more times. Peter lowered the roller. Ned dipped it in the tray and handed it back. In between, he started to unpackage the LED lights. They all required batteries, which was fine. He’d remembered to buy those too. The problem was he needed a tiny screwdriver. He looked up and shook his head, still mildly in awe. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Peter smiled back. “Yep. I’m almost done.”
Ned lifted a thumb and jogged out of the room. He knew his dad had a few tools in a drawer in the dining room. So, he started there. He dug around for a few seconds and found nothing useful. The cramped closet beneath the stairs was the next best bet. He crawled inside, feeling slightly claustrophobic. Thankfully he didn’t have to go far. The toolbox was towards the front. He opened it and went through the various trays. Eventually, he found exactly what he needed. And once it was tucked safely in his pocket he started to crawl backward out of the confined space.
He’d backed halfway out when the screaming started. First one voice. Then two and three. He banged his head on the door frame in his haste to get to his feet. He could hear his mother ranting hysterically in Tagalog while his dad shouted, “How are you doing that? And Where’s Ned? What did you do with him?”
“What!” Peter shouted back, his voice pitched high with alarm. “I didn’t- he’s- he said he’d be right back! I don’t-”
Ned ran up the stairs as quickly as his legs would carry him. He burst through his bedroom door and skidded in front of his parents. “This isn’t what it looks like!”
“Why is your friend on the ceiling!”
“He’s- uh-'' His eyes shot upward in search of support. There was none. Peter looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He needed to think fast. “He’s- We started on our science fair project. It’s-” His eyes darted from his mother to his father, then up to Peter. His friend had the paint roller tightly grasped in one hand while the other pressed flat up against the ceiling. No gloves, no tech. He was clearly sticking. There was no way out of the predicament they were in. “He’s Spider-Man!” he announced,
Peter must have been on the same page. Because at the exact same moment, he made a similar proclamation. “I’m Spider-Man.”
Ned watched his parents' eyes widen as they gradually looked up again. Peter lifted a hand and half-heartedly waved “Hi.”
His dad blinked several times before asking. “Does May know about all of- this?”
Ned opened his mouth to answer but Peter opened his faster. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. She knows. So does- My internship with Mr. Stark- he knows too. But like- nobody else can know! You can’t tell anyone!”
The room was silent for a few seconds. Ned looked between his parents. His dad was slowly bobbing his head like he’d already come to terms with the revelation. His mother, on the other hand, appeared to be swaying slightly where she stood. Thankfully his dad noticed as well. Because he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.
“Diyos ko.” His mom closed her eyes and placed a hand on her forehead. “I think I need to sit down.”
Once both adults had exited the room, Peter dropped down to the floor. He peeked into the hallway and looked back over his shoulder. “Is she going to be okay?”
Over the years, Ned had seen his mom in various stages of surprise. And while finding out that her son’s childhood friend was basically an Avenger was probably a big one, he was convinced she would recover quickly. She always did. She was just resilient like that. “Yeah. She just needs a minute. My dad’s probably making her tea or something. She’ll be fine.” When Peter looked relatively assured, he pulled the tiny screwdriver out of his pocket and eyed the last patch of unpainted wall. “You’re still spending the night, right?”
“Of course.”
“Perfect.” Ned grinned. “Let’s hurry up and finish this, so we can have a movie marathon.” He hurried over to the paint tray and handed Peter the roller. “Here. You only have a little bit left.”
Peter blinked as the roller was pressed into his palm. He glanced back at the door and shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Let’s get this done.”
Then, just like something out of the coolest comic book ever, Peter leaped back up to the ceiling. Ned was sure he would never get used to it. “This is so completely awesome.”