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๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You hate your life.
Dodgeballs hit the ground and shoes squeak across the glossy floors. It’s your least favourite subject, especially now, after you’ve gotten hit in the head with a dodgeball.
Peter Parker holds an icepack to your head as you glare at your fellow students.
“They should really watch where they aim.” He says mournfully, like it’ll change anything about your current predicament.
You huff as if smoke could come out of your nose and continue pouting.
“Their mom couldn’t even beat that idiot in office?” Someone gasps.
"Didn't they almost lose their apartment?" You hear a student snicker before promptly getting hit with a dodgeball.
You pretend not to hear.
“I hate this school.” You scowl, and it's not just because of the flying dodgeballs. It’s the bullying.
Ned Leeds and Flash Thompson seem to get a particular kick out of ruining your day, pushing you into lockers and leaving writing on your desk.
After your mom lost the mayoral election, people all around the school have not stopped making fun of you.
You’re worse than a nobody, you’re somebody who’s only seen as joke material. Every attempt at being special is seen as a new opportunity to mock you.
You have one person, Peter Parker, but he’s not so special either.
“Dodgeball should be illegal. Some of the kids in our class are actual giants.” He says, looking worriedly at a nerd about to get a faceful of rubber. "You know... statistically speaking, dodgeballs are basically weapons."
“Maybe we’re just weak.” You say bitterly and Peter looks at the floor, unsure of what to say.
“You’re crying.” He states.
You sniffle. “I’m not crying.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m crying because I hate dodgeball.”
Peter laughs. “If you can survive advanced algebra, you can survive sports.”
“I barely survived that.”
“But you still survived it.” He nudges your shoulder encouragingly, trying to get a smile out of you.
You shake your head, unaffected by the attempt. “I’m so tired, Pete.” You sigh.
“Tired of what, bug?” He asks.
“Life.” You state simply. “I want a different life.”
“Why would you?”
“Are you kidding? I’m sick and tired of being treated like a joke. I’m tired of checking restaurant menu prices and being reminded my mom isn’t a winner. I want money, I want friends, I want a mom worth respecting, I want a life worth living, I want people to stop looking at us like we’re failures.” You rant, nails digging into the palms of your hand.
You could break something right now, but you don’t frighten Peter, he’s seen you on worse days.
“I think you’re pretty amazing the way you are, bug.”
“Peter…”
“I mean it.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
He shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
It doesn’t mean much coming from him, he’s your best friend, he’s supposed to say things like that. And he’s a fellow nobody, so his opinion doesn’t matter in the real world.
You take the ice pack from him and press it against your head as the moisture drips down your hand.
“I’m sorry, I just… I’m so mad.” You explain
Peter shakes his head, too understanding for his own good. “It’s fine.”
“Say, why don’t you head to my place after school. We could have a sleepover and watch a movie? Your mom wouldn’t mind.” He suggests with a smile, he knows what’ll win you over every time.
“Alright…” You reluctantly give in. “Can we watch Spider-man?”
He smiles. “Of course.”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You show up with your pillow and bag with the spider-man keychain Peter gave you, and knock on Peter’s door.
A masked vigilante greets you.
“Pftt, what are you wearing?” You laugh out loud. He’s wearing Miles Morales’s famous black and red costume with obnoxious eyeholes cut into the mask.
“Can’t you tell who I am?” He turns around to fully flaunt his outfit.
You roll your eyes and tug at your pillow. “No, who are you?” You reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Peter puts a hand over his face dramatically. “Are you sure you wanna know? My story isn’t for the faint of heart.”
“Peter? What’s taking you so long?” Aunt May’s voice calls out from the kitchen and Peter blushes.
“Coming!” He pulls you into the house and you manage to get the door shut in time.
It’s a tiny place, not much bigger than your own house, but it’s cozy and comforting, especially since it’s practically your second home.
The beautiful Aunt May comes from the kitchen to give you a hug.
“Hey, angel! This is probably the 3rd time you’ve come over this past two weeks, is everything okay?” She asks like a worried mother. You hate how people are so easily able to see through you. Or maybe it’s just Peter and May.
You hug her back tightly. “I’ve been fine, just needed a bit of cheering up today.”
“Well you’re welcome anytime, honey, don’t forget.” She kisses your cheek and heads back into the kitchen to pull out the frozen lasagna from the fridge.
You eat dinner with the Parkers and it’s so easy, so simple. Nothing extravagant, just a homemade meal and inside jokes. Peter always makes sure to include you in the conversation when he gets too caught up in telling May about today’s homework.
The apartment is small.
The TV is old.
The people are nobodies.
But it’s sweet.
Aunt May warns you not to stay up too late as you head to Peter’s room.
You’re watching Spider-Man once again and you’re fawning over Miles.
Something about the superhero has you in awe, you’re obsessed. He's somebody, he can make change.
Peter shakes his head in disbelief. “You only like him cause he’s got spider powers.”
You nod. “Yes exactly! He’s special.”
Peter flails his hands as Miles swings across the screen. “So you wouldn’t like him if he was just a normal student?”
“Nope.” You laugh.
By the time the end credits roll, Peter’s fallen asleep. You shut the computer off and place it on his cabinet. You tuck yourself into bed, watching the stars on the other side of the window, and dream of a better life.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
When you wake up, the sheets don’t feel familiar.
You open your eyes and the blur you awake to isn’t recognizable at all. This isn’t Peter’s bedroom, this isn’t the room of anyone you know at all.
The curtains and covering floor to ceiling windows, the bed is huge and unbelievably soft, the floor is waxed, and the room is gigantic.
You’re laying on a silk pillow, and your phone won’t stop buzzing.
Before you can freak out there’s a knock at your door.
“Uh, come in?” You allow.
A woman you’ve never seen before enters, carrying a tray of food.
“Breakfast. Your mother is doing an interview downstairs.” She explains.
She hands you way too much food, and places it on your lap.
“Uh- thank you?” She gives a little nod before exiting the room.
Maybe you’re in some sort of hotel room? Why would anyone be interviewing your mom, she’s not a government official?
You check your phone and see notifications.
Nediwankenobi: Flash is having a party tom! Byob.
Lizloveu: u look so pretty in this picture <3
Flashthompsonofficial: u coming?
Betty_brant: We have to hangout soooon!
What the hell? Is someone pranking you? Why are people who wanted nothing to do with you yesterday messaging you?
You get out of bed and head to a mirror. Maybe it was just a bad sleep but you look… older. Like, you look like a young adult straight out of college, old enough to drink. You fix your hair in the mirror and look away, uncomfortable by the sight.
You eat your breakfast in your bed, alone. You were sure you had fallen asleep next to Peter… maybe your mom picked you up and you were too sleepy to remember.
You carry the tray full of empty dishes and you’re completely full for the first time in a while. You exit the room and navigate the outside. It doesn’t look like you’re in a hotel, it looks like you’re in a mansion. You carefully walk down the stairs when you hear your mother’s voice.
“And as I said, my focus will be on making the cost of living affordable for all New Yorkers.” She finishes. A reporter on call thanks her for her time and the interview ends.
“Oh, hi, honey. What are you doing with that tray?” She greets you from the couch, fixing her hair.
You’re completely confused.
“I’m just taking it to the kitchen?”
“Aw, you’re so kind, honey, have one of the help do it instead. Clarise!”
When your mother calls the name, another woman you don’t recognise takes the tray from you and heads to what you presume is the kitchen.
“Mom, what’s happening? Are we rich?”
Your mom laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t say rich, but we’re comfortable.”
You breathe out. That’s exactly what a rich person would say.
“Why were you talking like you were mayor a while ago?” You ask carefully.
Your mother tilts her head in shock. “Honey, did you forget I got reelected?”
Reelected. As in… she won and then she won again?
She’s looking at you like you’re crazy, and you shrink a little. You decide to stop asking questions and just accept your reality, not wanting to seem stupid.
“Oh, right, right.”
You’re living in a dream, that’s the only natural explanation. That or you time-traveled to the future where everything miraculously got better.
You head back up the stairs to the big room you woke up in, and as you look around and observe you realise all your things are there. Your hairbrushes, your clothes, even your stuffed animals.
It’s like you lived here all along.
But this isn’t your house, you’d like it to be, but that’s not your reality. You could get lost in this place, but you live in a tiny apartment with two bedrooms.
You’re dreaming. Again, that’s the only explanation. You open the balcony doors, cause apparently you have a balcony, and you swing your legs over the railing.
“If this is a dream….”
Your hands grip the railing behind you.
“...then I can fly, right?”
Right as your hand starts to let go of the railing and your body begins to fall, a red blur flashes in front of your face.
“Don’t do it!” A deep voice begs.
A white string seems to be attached to your torso as you’re pulled into the arms of some masked hero.
You look to see… Spider-man?
He’s wearing a pretty accurate recreation of Miles Morales’s suit, but in red and blue. When he looks at you, he stares, like he’s confused, then shakes like he just got a chill.
“Uhm- who are you?” You ask.
The spider-man cosplayer backs away. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that dreams probably have less gravity.” You state plainly.
The man stands frozen in front of you, in pure disbelief.
“You can’t… this isn’t…” He starts and stops multiple times. “You could’ve hurt yourself!”
“No, I couldn’t. This is a dream.” You repeat.
The Spider-man shakes his hands frustratedly. “I can assure you that this isn’t a dream.”
“Then how the hell am I talking to Spider-man?”
His gloved hand slaps his masked forehead like he’s completely stressed out by you.
He gets an idea and pinches your arm.
“Ow! Hey!”
“See! Pain. Not a dream, right?”
You rub your arm with a frown. But your expression slowly shifts from pain to realisation.
Holy shit. This isn’t a dream.
Your mom is the mayor.
You live in a mansion.
You have friends.
And Spider-man is real.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You sit on your bed, and you want to message Peter to ask what the hell happened in the span of one night, but you can’t seem to find his contact anywhere.
“What the-”
You frantically search your message history, but you can’t find him. Not under any of your silly nicknames, not under his full government name, you can’t find him on instagram, and the most you can find is a faceless facebook profile with 0 friends.
Peter is gone.
You head downstairs, it takes you about ten minutes before you finally find your mom’s new office.
“Mom, do you have Aunt May’s number?”
Your mother dismisses you. “Honey, I’m busy. And you don’t have an Aunt Kay.”
You groan in frustration. “No, Aunt May. Peter’s aunt?”
Your mom turns in her chair to face you, looking pissed off. “Honey, who are you talking about?”
“Peter? Peter Parker? My best friend?”
Your mother scoffs. “You have a new best friend every week, how am I supposed to keep track? Now go, I have work to do.”
You exit her office in a huff and sit on the leather living room couch.
Genuinely what is happening?
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
We are young by fun. plays in your headset you share with Peter.
“It’s good right?” He asks, desperate for your approval.
“Yeah, it’s nice.” You reply. “Very you.”
Peter blushes at your response.
“I have something to tell you.” He stutters out.
You stop walking to look at him.
“What is it?”
He stares at you and takes a deep breath.
“I…” He doesn’t know if he can do it. “I didn’t bring any cash.”
You roll your eyes, he always does this.
“Fine, but you owe me for the movie tickets.”
Peter smiles, but you don’t catch how it fades when you stop looking at him.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
“You have a gala tonight.” One of the help says.
You immediately panic. “But I have nothing to wear.”
The woman cocks her head at you. “You could always reuse one of the outfits in your closet.”
“My wha-”
You turn around and notice the giant walk-in closet in your room.
“Holy-”
You open it and find literally every outfit you could have ever wanted.
Rows and rows of colourful shoes, every top you ever saved on pinterest, and expensive jewelry in glass displays.
You could get used to this.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
“What if I take you out to lunch for once?” Your mother asks, barging into your room mid solo fashion show.
“You always do, mom.” You laugh.
“Really? The last time we went out was your birthday.”
You make a confused face. “No, it was…” You remember not everything is the same in this current universe and nod your head.
“You’re right… sorry, it hasn’t felt like that long?”
Your mother kisses your forehead. “You’re such a good child.”
She takes you to this amazing skyline restaurant, buying expensive food without even checking the price tag!
“Who’s this Peter you were talking about earlier?” She asks, cutting into her steak.
“Peter? Oh, just a friend. Not important.” You reply.
“Is he cute?”
“Ew, no, he’s… Peter.”
Your mom chuckles.
“I can always see right through you. You like him.”
You make a disgusted face. Peter? You can’t imagine ever being with Peter.
“He’d have to wear a mask every day if we dated, I can’t stand his face.” You huff.
Your mom laughs once again.
“I miss this.” She places a hand on yours and you can’t help but smile.
Suddenly, her phone rings and she picks up.
“Hello?”
She has a conversation you’re not quite paying attention to, you’re too focused on the mind-blowing steak you’re eating.
Suddenly, you mom pats your hand again and gives an apologetic smile. “Sorry, honey, but I have an emergency at the gala.”
“What?”
“I have to go now, here’s my card, just remember to show up to the gala at 7 PM, okay?”
She places an american express card on the table and kisses your forehead.
How could she leave just like that? You suppose this is the cost of being a mayor’s kid.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You roam the city at night, trying to figure out your new life and what’s different. You’re no celebrity, but a couple people turn their heads and point you out when you pass by.
“That’s the mayor’s kid!” Multiple people have whispered around you by now. It’s still a fright to hear that.
The city looks almost exactly the same, maybe one of two posters about this new Spider-man, and apparently other comic superheroes exist in this world, but that’s it.
You tried to spend time at home but your mother was too busy to bother, and the entire place just felt so empty.
You sit on a bench, scrolling through people’s instagram stories. Everyone seems to be having the time of their lives currently. All of your fellow classmates look much older, and have college universities in their bios.
You seem to have traveled a couple years into the future, but every stranger you ask is acting like Spider-man’s existed since you were in Highschool.
You got into your dream college apparently. You have no memory of that. You scroll through your phone and see lots of photos of you sobbing while studying for midterms.
You texted back to a couple of the people who had messaged you saying you would love to hang out, but nobody actually wanted to make plans.
You sit alone, outside a subway, eating Peter’s favourite sandwich. Turkey, no tomatoes, extra pickles.
Wait.
You check your bag.
It’s still there.
Your spider-man keychain.
It’s a different colour now, but it’s still there.
Peter got this for you in a random garage sale, it’s got the same dents and chips as it did yesterday.
Nobody seems to know who Peter is, but this is proof that he was real.
You never thought you’d miss that stupid nerd, but here you are. You have thousands of followers but no one to talk to.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You’re sitting in a lone chair at some kind of fancy gala. You can’t help but feel completely out of place amongst government officials and their trophy partners.
You mom hands Spider-man the key to the city, and everyone bursts into applause.
You clap as you stare at the hero, observing every inch of his costume, trying to process how this is reality. You two make eye contact, at least, you think so, it’s hard to tell with his goggles on.
You head out to the balcony of the building for some fresh air.
You don’t know how to appreciate this new life. It’s everything you wanted, but it’s here all too quickly.
“Please tell me you’re not going to jump off.”
You hear a voice so similar to Peter’s that you jump. You turn around to see the masked vigilante himself approaching you.
“Don’t you have a party to be at?” You ask with raised eyebrow.
“Don’t you?”
“Touche…”
He approaches you and you two stare out at the grasslands outside the government building.
“I know you’re not from here.” He says.
You slowly turn to look at him, you didn’t choose to come here, but you feel like you’ve been caught.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I’ve never felt my Spider-sense react like that.”
“React like what?’
“Like something’s different about you.”
“I tend to have that effect on people.”
He punches your shoulder playfully and you fake offense.
“Yeah… I don’t know what happened.” You pinch the ends of your fingers. “Look, this is going to sound crazy, but this is a completely different life than I was living last night.”
“I’ve dealt with crazier, you can tell me about it.”
You let out a sigh of relief and tell him everything, from the sleepover all the way to tonight. He looks at you interestedly, well, as interested as a mask can look, and he nods carefully.
“That’s… insane. Straight out of a movie.”
“No, you’re straight out of a movie.” You retort. “How are you even real?”
Spider-man shrugs and turns around to rest his elbows against the balustrade.
“Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes, please.”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You expect Spider-man to swing you to the nearest IMAX theatre, but instead he swings you to one of the oldest theatres in town. $5 a ticket.
“Could you pay? I’ll owe you.”
You roll your eyes and pay the fee to get two tickets for some cheesy action movie.
You two sit together in the theatre and you have to wonder how well he can see through that mask.
“You can’t keep doing this, John, you’re putting all our lives in danger!” The female lead pleads.
“John’s kinda hot.” You whisper, stuffing your face with popcorn.
“You only like him cause he has guns and can do flips.”
“Exactly.”
He lifts up his mask just enough that he can take a few bites of popcorn.
“Holy shit, you’re white?” You gasp. He didn’t really sound like Miles Morales at all, so you figured it was a different person, but getting the confirmation that he’s white kinda disappoints you.
“Uh- yeah?”
“That’s messed up…”
“I-I’m sorry?”
You recognise him from somewhere, but you can’t seem to place it.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You get sandwiches after the movie, your treat once again but he swears with his whole heart that he’ll pay you back.
The guy making the sandwiches already seems to know what his order is exactly.
Turkey. No tomatoes. Extra pickles.
You laugh slightly. “Oh, I just had that earlier.”
“You have good taste, bug.” Spider-man notes.
You frown at the nickname he gives you.
“I’m sorry, have we met before?”
He quickly stares at you, almost like you’ve caught him in a lie.
“Don’t think so.”
You don’t believe him.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
When you get home, your mom doesn’t even ask where you were. She’s too busy in her room.
You roam around the dark and empty house. The place is still unfamiliar to you.
You decide to explore, discovering a library, an indoor theatre, and a pool.
You tried to ask an assistant where the kitchen was earlier and she replied “Which one?”
The help is asleep now, so you’re the only moving thing in this house.
You eat a snack alone at the dining table, nobody to chatter in your ear.
You stumble up to your room and get another notification reminding you about the party tomorrow. You hope you’ll actually get to talk to someone then.
You collapse on your bed in your formal outfit, and you’re too tired to change.
Tears start to fall out, you can’t help it, you’re just so scared.
You miss the cold lasagna.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You’re shivering in class. The teacher changed the seating arrangement and placed you directly under the air conditioner.
You’re sniffling and shaking, and Peter notices.
“Hey.” He bumps you with his hand.
You notice he’s holding his blue hoodie and giving it to you.
“Peter, you don’t-”
“I do. Just take it.”
You relent and put the hoodie on. It’s comfortable, it smells like Peter.
“Didn’t you have a blue hoodie?” Aunt May would ask a month later.
“Nope.”
You suppose he didn’t want it back.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You’re walking home from a party where nobody talked to you.
You keep getting invited to these things just so you can bring alcohol, but nobody ever seems the care that you’re there.
And nobody ever cares when you leave.
Despite all the people who seem to be friends with you, you don’t see many photos of you on your phone partying or hanging out with anyone.
There are posts people tag you in, concerts you apparently paid for, designer gowns you apparently gifted, you scroll through multiple conversations of people asking “Could your mom do me this favour…”
You stop midwalk.
What’s the point in going home?
Your mom is going to ignore you because she has work, your footsteps are going to echo throughout the empty house until you fall asleep from pure boredom.
You’ll eat food that’s too much for you at a silent table and go to sleep missing Peter.
That’s when a certain webbed hero comes to the rescue.
He’s holding a box of cinnamon rolls as he clumsily lands in front of you.
“What happened to your web shooters?” You notice.
“Uh, I’m using organic now.”
“Organic? Like… it comes from you?”
“Yeah…”
There’s an awkward silence.
“Anyways, I’m pretty sure, I owe you?”
You smile as you grab the cinnamon rolls from him.
“You’re damn right you do.”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You’re sobbing at your table, hiding in a classroom to avoid the science fair.
Peter finds you, because of course he does, and rushes towards you.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
You wipe a tear aggressively.
“It’s broken. I failed.”
You point to your torn cardboard display, and Peter takes it from your desk.
“Give me ten minutes.”
He runs out of the classroom and leaves you alone and confused.
He comes back with a taped and decorated display, better than anything you could have done.
You’re speechless and he hands it to you, acting like it’s no big deal.
You won second prize at the fair and you gave Peter a giant hug.
He blushes harshly, and pats you on the back.
“You act like you’ve never been hugged before.”
“I have, you’re just… enthusiastic.”
You ignore him and wrap your arms around him tighter.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You’re sitting on the roof of your mansion eating $2 hotdogs with Spider-man.
“And then Flash had the audacity to ask if I could buy tickets to the next Bad Bunny concert for him?”
You chew angrily. “So screw him, I’m buying tickets for myself.”
Spider-man listens attentively, mask half up his face as he eats.
It’s a nice day, the sun is about to set so the sky is a dark blue, and the wind is just the perfect amount.
It’s nice having an actual person to talk to, someone who makes time for you. You love your mom, but she just can’t do that. It’s not her fault, you’re happy she has the job she has, and you understand it comes at a cost.
Sure, you have multiple friends, but they have other friends, and they have their own parties to attend. It feels like you and Spider-man only have each other.
He squeezes a ketchup packet onto his hotdog and accidentally squirts some onto your leg.
“Whoops, sorry.”
“Don’t apologise.” You scoop the little drop of ketchup with your finger and taste it.
“Why do we always seem to have the same taste in food?” You randomly point out. “It’s like you know exactly what I like.
Spider-man chuckled awkwardly, you get a weird sense of deja vu whenever he does that, like it’s something you know but different.
“I’m just a good food guesser?”
“Is that one of your powers?” You ask snarkily.
“No, I’m just naturally gifted.”
You have half a mind to push him off the roof top now, but you wouldn’t have anyone to share hot dogs with, so you don’t.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
The mansion has a game room, a gym you'll never use, and a wine cellar you aren't allowed in.
Three kitchens and yet you still only ever eat in your bedroom.
Most mornings you wake up after your mom has already left, the silence becomes your only company in the house.
You wander the halls in oversized pajamas, reading the little plaques under paintings you don't recognize.
"Donated by..." "Gifted to Mayor..." "Commissioned in..."
Every room feels like it belongs to someone wealthier, older, more put together than you.
One morning you discover a piano.
It's beautiful, probably worth more than your old apartment.
You press a single key.
The note rings through the entire house.
Even making noise feels expensive here.
You start sleeping with the bedroom television on, not because you're watching it, but just because the silence has become unbearable.
In your old apartment you could always hear something. Cars outside, your mom humming while folding laundry, arguing neighbours, anything.
Here… there’s nothing.
You scroll through your camera roll instead, and there thousands of photos of fancy restaurants, award ceremonies, beach vacations, and designer dresses.
You’re smiling, but you wonder if this version of you actually was happy.
Cause you’re certainly not.
The next afternoon you try calling Liz. She doesn't answer.
Flash replies to your text with, Busy rn lol.
Betty reacts to your message with a heart.
And Ned doesn’t even bother to read it, but he’s still posting stories that nobody will watch.
Nobody asks if you're free, nobody asks how you've been.
Eventually you stop trying.
Spider-Man becomes the only person who checks on you without wanting something.
Sometimes he'll appear upside down outside your balcony, sometimes he'll leave takeout hanging from a web.
Once he accidentally left halfway through your conversation because someone was robbing an ATM.
He came back forty minutes later carrying two melted milkshakes.
"I still owed you dessert."
"They're soup now."
"They're... milkshake soup."
You laugh so hard your stomach hurts.
Spider-Man just watches, like hearing you laugh is enough.
"You know," you say between giggles, "you're really bad at dramatic exits."
"I know."
"It's cause you keep coming back."
He goes strangely quiet.
"Yeah."
For a moment the air changes.
Like there are words sitting behind his teeth.
Then police sirens echo somewhere downtown.
He sighs.
"Duty calls." He straightens his mask and gives you a thumbs up. You give him one back.
"You know..." He pauses before shooting a web. "...you never ask me to stay."
You blink.
"I figured you always had somewhere more important to be."
He looks at you for a long second.
Then he laughs behind the mask.
"Yeah."
But it doesn't sound amused, it sounds disappointed.
He swings away before you can ask why.
You stand alone on the balcony again.
The mansion somehow feels even bigger after he leaves.
Without thinking, you pull your phone out.
You scroll all the way down your photos.
Past vacations.
Past birthdays.
Past galas.
Until you find the tiny picture of a red-and-blue Spider-Man keychain hanging from your bag.
The picture is blurry, probably because whoever took it was laughing while they did, or maybe because you're tearing up.
You smile despite yourself.
"I miss you, Pete."
The wind carries the words away.
No one answers.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You stand outside your school building. It’s pouring rain and you didn’t believe your mom when she told you to bring an umbrella.
Peter, the always prepared, stands next to you.
“How are you gonna get home?”
You sigh. “I could just wait two hours until my mom gets out from work.”
Peter’s eyes widen. “No, no, no absolutely not.”
He hands you his umbrella without a second thought.
“Peter, you’ll get soaked.”
Peter steps out into the rain with his arms open wide.
“I already am.”
You can’t help but smile.
You open the umbrella and step out into the rain.
You give Peter one more look before parting ways.
But he’s already smiling back at you.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
Spider-man swings you across buildings as you scream. The building passes by you in grey and blue blurs as Spider-man swings you all the way to your house.
“This is so much scarier than it looks!” You say horrified.
“But isn’t it fun?”
You shut your eyes and feel the wind against your hair. Though scary and very dangerous, it’s surprisingly calming, like riding a motorcycle. “Yeah!”
It’s another level of exhilarating being with Spider-man. The mystery of who he is and the danger of being around him along with the casual comfort of having a friend.
“I’m slipping, I’m slipping!”
“You always say that.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
“What’s this Peter like, multiverse bug?” Spider-man asks as he eats a burger.
“Kinda like you, actually.”
“Handsome?”
“Annoying.”
He nearly chokes on a piece of his burger.
“Ah, you love it.”
You laugh gently. “Yeah, I do.”
You kind of stun him into silence after that.
“He’s also smart. Like really smart.”
“Oh really?”
“And kind.”
“I bet.”
“Probably the sweetest guy I’ve ever known.”
“Oh.”
You get a pain in your heart, suddenly reminded about how much you miss that stupidly smart boy.
You turn to see Spider-man staring at you with his mouth hanging open.
You put his jaw up to shut his mouth.
“What, you’re not gonna ask if you’re the sweetest guy I know?”
“No, no, I… I know I could never compete with him.”
You smile but it’s true. There’s no replacing your Peter Parker.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
“Happy Birthday.”
At school, Peter gives you a sparkly little baggie. There’s a tag attached with your name on it.
You open it and see a little lego spider-man keychain.
“Oh my god, Peter, it’s so cute.” You wrap your arms around him.
“I know you like Spider-man so… I bought it when we went on that field trip.”
“That was ages ago. You were thinking about my birthday all the way back then?”
Peter’s ears turn red, he looks away embarrassedly.
“Yeah, I have.”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
Spider-man swings you home after another night out, you cling onto him a bit tighter tonight.
You finally land on your balcony and your gaze lingers on him a bit longer.
“You haven’t let go yet.” He notes.
“I don’t wanna go home.” You shakily admit.
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t feel like home.” You sigh. “You’re the only thing that feels familiar these days.”
You hear a shaky breath under the mask.
“God, I feel like I know you.”
You place your fingers under his mask, you give him the chance to pull away, but he allows you.
You carefully pull the mask up, just enough so you can see his lips.
Your heart thumps carefully as you lean in.
“I can’t.” He grabs your hands and pushes you away.
You feel rejected. “What? Why?” You’re not mad, just upset.
“Because you wouldn’t be doing this if you knew who I was.”
“What? Who are you?”
He chuckles dimly. “Are you sure you wanna know? My story isn’t for the faint of heart.”
Oh.
Oh.
You reach for his mask, but he webs your hands together.
“Don’t…” But he sounds more scared than angry.
“Peter?”
He takes off his mask.
It’s the face of the boy you know.
The boy you love.
Worn down by time, cuts and bruises from long late night fights. He has a stare that makes you feel seen but an aura that’s unfamiliar to you. It’s so easy to understand but so hard to believe.
He undoes the webs on your hands.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I thought I was alone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Peter, you should’ve told me.”
“I know.”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
Peter makes a choice after he swings away and leaves you in that empty house.
He doesn’t call you, he doesn’t come over, he doesn’t swing by, just… leave you alone.
You check your phone every day, follow the Spidey tracker Ned Leeds created, just trying to see where he is. You send a friend request on facebook that never gets accepted.
It looks like Spider-man, no, Peter, is trying to avoid your house.
Your mom notices how closed off you’ve become and enters your room unannounced one day.
“Honey, are you alright?” Her gentle voice asks.
You look up at her, wrapped in your weighted blanket.
“Huh? Oh, I’m… I’m…” You can’t even lie, you start breathing quickly and your mom runs to you to give you a hug.
“I miss him.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah.”
You don’t even know which one you miss.
“Mom, if you had the choice between this life and a perfect life, what would you choose?”
Your mother clicks her tongue as she stares at the ceiling. “I would choose this life.”
“Why?”
She chuckles. “When I was your age, I wanted a completely different life too.”
“What happened?”
“I had you.”
Oh.
“And I was so scared, so worried my life would be over, but you know what? I got the best part of my life out of you, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
She kisses your forehead, and you have to let the tears streak down your face.
“Because a perfect life would mean losing all the imperfect things that I love.”
You’re fine being imperfect if it means you have your loving mom. Maybe an imperfect life wasn’t so bad, but how can you get it back?
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
Peter used to listen to songs he hated just to share earphones with you.
He’d let you copy off his tests even though he thought it was wrong.
He’d give you his umbrella if it meant you would stay dry.
And he did all that to the worst version of you.
God, he really did love you, didn’t he? How couldn’t you see it?
You slept with his hoodie on every night, crying into your pillow, longing for the boy you knew, and the boy you just met.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You were having a normal day. As normal of a day you can have in an alternate universe where superheroes exist.
You were eating lunch with your mother on her computer when you hear a maid gasp.
“Spider-Man is in critical condition.”
You and your mother stare at your TV in horror, dropping your phone, cracking your screen.
“Peter…”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You weren’t allowed in the waiting room, and you couldn’t explain who you were to the hospital workers, so you sat outside with all the other Spider-man fans.
People held signs saying “We love spider-man!” and “Get well soon, spidey!” as they played music and talked, waiting for any sign that Spider-man was okay.
You were in the middle of talking to a kid in a Spider-man beanie when people started getting up and cheering.
“Look, it’s Spider-man!”
You see an oddly buff Spider-man waving from his hospital room window. You’re confused until you hear the hospital door open and see Peter walking out, out of mask.
He catches your eye and freezes before you approach him.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
His eyes drift down to the sign in your hands.
‘Your life isn’t for the faint of heart’
He chuckles and looks up at you.
“Wanna come with me?” he asks, still a bit hesitant.
“I would like nothing more.”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
You enter Peter’s new apartment, it’s covered in tech and webs, but it feels so… him.
You see a picture of you that you don’t remember taking on his desk.
So you were friends.
“I should probably explain.” Peter says in his squeaky voice, and you sit in his chair, interested in what he has to say.
“Years ago, we were friends. Like, really good friends, and I liked you but I never had the chance to tell you before my identity got revealed.”
"At graduation, I almost told you. Outside the science fair, I almost told you. On your birthday, I almost told you. I kept thinking I'd have another chance.” He recounts.
Silence.
"Then I ran out of chances."
He stares into the ground, recounting hard memories. “A bunch of terrible things started happening and I had to make everyone forget I existed to stop it. That’s why nobody knows who I am. And… your life just seemed so much better when I stopped being a part of it. You got into your dream school. You made all those new friends. I watched from a distance. I kept thinking... Today's the day they won't miss me anymore. I promised you I’d remind you who I was, but I didn’t because I didn’t want to ruin your life again.”
You stare at him, and your eyes sting hard. You shake your head, how could the universe put this boy through so much pain when all he ever did was good?
“You shouldn’t have made that decision for me, Peter.”
He sighs like he’s disappointed in himself. “I know… I know.”
You want to forgive him, but it’s also not really your place. This Peter wasn’t friends with you, he was friends with another version of you.
“I wish I never became Spider-man sometimes. Maybe we could’ve been together.”
You shake your head mournfully.
“No, we would just drive each other insane. All we do is homework and argue.”
Peter chuckles at that, but then he makes direct eye contact with you. “I know you would’ve broken my heart even then, but I would choose to just do homework and argue with you if it meant I got to hear you say my name.”
You don’t know what to say. You and Peter get close to each other, you place your hand on his cheek and your lips interlock.
But it doesn’t feel right.
You pull back, foreheads touching.
“I used to spend my whole life wishing I was someone else, then when I finally got everything, I was missing the one thing that was truly mine.”
“I’m here now.”
“That’s the problem. I have you now, but you’re not my Peter.”
“I know.” He clicks his tongue. “I wish I was.”
Peter sighs with a smile.
“I didn’t kiss you that night because I knew whenever you looked at me, you were seeing someone else.”
“Yeah…”
“It just hurts that that someone else was me.”
He pulls away from you and pinches his fingers. “I finally got you back… and you already belonged to me, but not to me."
You don’t have anything to say to him, because he’s right. You wish you could love him, but you could never love someone as much as you love Peter.
“Was he good to you?”
“He drove me insane.”
“Sounds like me.”
You fall asleep in Peter’s apartment in a bed that definitely wasn’t made for two.
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
“Kids, get up, breakfast is ready!” Aunt May’s voice echoes throughout the apartment.
You rub your eyes and wake up to the familiar smell of a boy’s bedroom.
Holy shit.
You turn to the side and see a drowsy Peter waking up beside you.
You immediately tackle him.
“Woah, woah, what’s gotten into you?” He giggles.
“This.”
You press a deep and intense kiss to his lips, your arms clawing at his star wars t-shirt.
When you pull away for breath, he’s looking at you like you’re a goddess.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I was 14.” he breathes out.
“Ew, morning breath.”
“Hey, you’re the one who choose to kiss me!”
“Shut up!”
“I heard that!” Aunt May enters the room with her arms crossed. “No more sleepovers with the door closed.
“Aunt May!”
๋࣭ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷✧˖°
It’s been a lonely few months since you left. Peter had a feeling he was saying goodbye to you so he swung you back home before you could wake up.
He hasn’t seen or heard from you in a while, so he’s just gone about his normal routine.
He was getting coffee when… out of the corner of his eyes… he saw someone.
It wasn’t you, it was the person he had been in love with for years.
There they were eating a waffle while reviewing something on their laptop intensely.
Peter had a choice, walk away a let them live their life, or finally let himself get closure.
He chose the latter.
He approached the table and pointed to the Spider-man keychain on their bag.
“Nice keychain.”
They look up at him, almost shocked to see him standing in front of them.
“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” He scratches the back of his neck, ready to leave.
“No, same! I’m sorry you just… feel so familiar.” They say.
“I get that a lot.” He says. Then he quickly back tracks. “Actually, I don’t get that a lot, I don’t know why I said that.”
They laugh, and there’s a spark in the air.
As if something had come over them, they feel this urge to talk to him. “Sorry if this is weird, but would you maybe wanna sit down and get some coffee with me?”
“You don’t even know my name”
“What is it then?”
He smiles. “It’s Peter.”