Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

"Welcome, Midtown School's freshman class. Today you'll be joining us for a look inside our newest exhibit, one that explores the many possibilities, and impossibilities, of mutant spiders. Now, I've been told that your teacher has already assigned a research project, so make sure that you're keeping an eye out for that. Alright, now, follow along."

The class collectively groaned at the thought of work. After all, we were students at a STEM school and this was practically an art project. My fingers tapped rhythmically along the sides of my camera and I began scanning the room as we entered.

Tall ceilings and screens of flashing lights, and diagrams galore. I filed through the rows between posters of extensive research and tanks filled with every kind of spider imaginable: tarantulas, daddy long legs, black widows...

"Over here you'll see our prized experiments. These fifteen spiders have been genetically engineered, their RNA modified to be classified among the most fascinating spiders of our planet. Not to mention, the most dangerous."

I came to a halt as the exhibit opened up before me. A five-by-three grid of enclosures were on display behind a set of metal bars.

Not noticing that I had stopped, Ned pummeled into me from behind. "Hey, Pete, watch it," he joked, but I still stared in awe at the sight before me.

Sure, I hated spiders as much as the next guy, but these were more than just creepy crawlies. They had patterns of blues and reds, and moved with such patience and precision that I felt all time beginning to slow down. The fifteen of them gazed up at me, and I-

"Actually, it's fourteen," a voice called out from behind us.

"Excuse me?" the tour guide asked, having already begun to lead the front of the group towards the next exhibit.

"Fourteen. Spiders," the voice clarified. Ned and I spun around to face the owner of the unfamiliar voice.

Hid behind the bangs of her frizzy hair, the girl looked to be our age. She wore a simple blue dress with a grey sweater, and knee socks complemented her black converse. One of her hands gripped her other arm and her shoulders were sunk down. It was a stance of fright that I knew too well.

"Shit. Ned, that's-"

"Michelle. I know, she's been here all week-"

"No! Ned, I mean-" I cut myself off this time, glancing reluctantly over my shoulder a final time to find her eyes on us. "I- I know her. Like, from before. B-before before."

"Peter, I don't know what you-"

"Russell Sage, Ned. She knew the old me," I confessed, still frozen in place.

I didn't stand around to hear what was inevitably my best friends face of realization, because often times he reached this stage long after I had already booked it out of there. I don't know why I was so afraid of my past. It was going to catch up with me eventually. I had already ran from Russell Sage Junior High, and was determined to stay low. Nobody would ever know me as anybody but Peter Parker. Even Michelle, I would make sure of it.

I didn't know where I was headed, I sprinted through the room with the tall glass ceilings, desperate to find a place to hide. Habitually, I drew myself towards the sign that read "restrooms". That is, until I got to the accompanying gendered signs, and then I looked around for Ned.

You see, in the seven months that I had known Ned, he had become like a brother to me. He knew that I refused to enter the men's bathroom alone, and so he came with me. Every time. It seemed silly, as I stood paralyzed in front of the door, but it was one of those things that even a year on testosterone hadn't enlightened in me.

In a full onset of panic, I managed to turn from the door and run right into a corner, and into a cobweb.

The sticky strands arched over my writhing body, and I began shivering and batting at my surroundings, as though to kill its creator. I winced in sudden pain as I felt a pinch on the underside of my left wrist, and immediately began swatting at it.

"Peter! There you are! I've been looking all over- jeez look at you. C'mon, get up here," he said, and I felt his arm swoop under my own, easily lifting my thin body upwards. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me to the bathroom, which I now welcomed with ease. Once inside, he let go of me, and I began rubbing at my arms as though subconsciously.

"Are you alright, man?"

I turned to face the sink, my eyes falling to the spot on my hand where a pink lump had formed around two red indents. Despite the feeling of fire on my hand, I simply splashed some water on my face and let my mind wander from it.

I really didn't want any more attention, nor worrying from Ned. Seriously, he got pretty overprotective at times.

"Peter?"

"Maybe you should just... go." I tugged my sleeves down and began pulling at the layers on my chest.

"Are you sure?"

Yes, I was sure, but I didn't speak. Ned knew all too well that I couldn't stand being in men's bathrooms all alone.

"O-okay then. I'll just... go." He made finger gun signs towards the door and proceeded to find his way out, his eyes lingering before he finally shut me in.

I turned back to the mirror, resting my elbows on the sink. I studied my face in the mirror. Had I changed enough that Michelle wouldn't recognize me? Did I really care if she did? The answer was yes, I would care, but I had no baseline of whether she even remembered me name. All I knew was that I remembered hers.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I stumbled home from school that day, my knees wobbly and my head swarming. I would've stopped by Delmar's on the way for a can of coke but I knew that I would worry him with my state. I clutched my hand to my chest, wrapped in the sleeves of my jacket and sweater. My heart was pounding, my binder growing unbearable slowly but surely. By the time I got to the door of our apartment, I didn't even bother calling out a greeting. Instead, I simply wrapped my right fist against the inside of the wooden door, shutting it groggily behind me.

"Peter? Oh, good, you're home. Come quick, I need your opinion on this outfit," I heard Aunt May's voice coo from her bedroom. I tried to hurry past her into my own room, and instead came face to face. "This one, or this one," she asked as she held up two outfits, one a rather skimpy red dress, and the other a pair of leather pants and a white blouse.

I pointed blindly towards one with my well hand, and in the same movement motioned to my bedroom. I followed the motion and began walking toward the door, nearly tripping and having to catch myself on the door frame.

"Oh dear!" May said as she caught me. She brushed my bangs from my forehead which was already sticky with sweat. "You look ill."

"No duh!" I cried out groggily as she helped me to me bed where I collapsed. She felt my forehead before proceeding to yank off my shoes and my glasses. She tugged at the sleeve of my jacket but I refused, still silently nursing my bitten arm.

"I'm going to head to the corner to pick up some medicine. Oh, and before you fall asleep, take off your binder." I groaned at the thought of having to wrestle it off, to which she protested, "Peter, I mean that. Binder off." As soon as she shut the door, I relished in the darkness. Still, I squeezed my eyes shut and sat up in the bed, pulling off layer after layer until my stomach felt the cool breeze that had settled in my room. My two hands crossed in front of my body, clutching at the sides of my half binder, before I ripped it off over my hand and quite literally collapsed back into my bed.

As I slept, or rather lay unconscious, my bones were shifting and clicking as though they were a new floor settling into the earth. My heart rate stumbled, a metronome gone whack. Each twist and turn of my muscles pummeled the springs in the mattress. New patterns were alive and awake inside of me.

When I woke up, it was to May's voice. "Hi, Mr. Flannigan, I'm just calling to let you know that Peter Parker won't be in again today."

Again? What? I sat up, the jerking motion sending electricity through my veins. Looking around, Aunt May was no where in sight. The door was shut, and the room was rather dark.

Confused, I untangled myself from my sheets, tugging a navy blue sweatshirt over my hand and walking towards the window. As soon as my fingers ticked the edge of the blinds, my vision went white. I stumbled backwards and fell onto my bed, the curtain readjusting itself on the wall as I slowly regained my sight.

I shook my head as it pounded. That was wild, I thought.

"Yes, it must be the flu. I hear it's been going around again," Aunt May's voice came again, clear as day.

I rolled across the bed, practically hopping to the door.

"Alright, you too, have a good one," she said.

The door creaked open as I twisted the handle. "Aunt May," I started.

"Oh, Peter, you're awake!" she exclaimed, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, leaning against the counter with the phone clutched in her hand. Impossible.

"Wh-what's going on?" I asked, my voice cracking in the process. Suddenly my throats felt raw and cracked.

She looked back at me with concern in her eyes, which seemed to be all I saw of her these days. "Peter, you've been asleep for nearly a day and a half! How are you feeling?"

"How am I feeling? I'm, I'm feeling fine." If a little better than fine, I wanted to add.

She gave me a goofy look. "Whatever, trooper. No school for you today, but do you think you can hold down the fort? I should probably go to work, at least for a few hours."

"No, yeah, yeah that's cool," I croaked as I began scratching at my neck. Eager to get her gaze off of me, I began shuffling around for a glass of water. She hesitated to drop her over protective stare and finally brushed it off as she pulled her hair into a high bun and began to collect her things. I got my water and pushed myself onto the counter. As I sat, I dangled my legs freely. My eyes stumbled upon the now swollen lump on the underside of my wrist, and though it hardly hurt I winced at the image of it overlapping an old set of scars. My fingers traced lines, stopping to circle the bite mark.

When I looked up, Aunt May stood in front of the door, looking at me as though she were exhausted. "Are you sure you'll be alright here alone today?" she asked, a guilty twinge in her voice.

"Y-yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. Go to work, quit worrying about me." I tried on a smile, though it probably lacked convincing.

"Alright," she sighed. "But you're still sick, so no binders, no leaving the house. You know the drill."

I gave a salute, whisking her out the door with the motion. The door shut and an eerie silence filled the room. At her mention of my binder, I suddenly craved it. I coughed a few times, testing out my lungs. I didn't even feel sick, rather just groggy from sleep. Hopeful, I leapt off the counter, but the impact was much greater than usual.

As soon as my feet hit the floor, the ground rumbled a tiny bit. I had to check to make sure I hadn't broken anything, and even then it appeared as though a thin layer of dust had wafted up from the tiles. I steadied myself on the counter, taken aback, but nevertheless headed towards my room.

Without turning on a light - as I remembered how it had hurt my eyes before - I easily found my binder in a heap of clothes beside my bed. I slipped off my sweatshirt, now grateful for the darkness as I slipped one arm and then the other into the fabric. As I looped it around my neck, too, it suddenly felt incredibly tight. Now, sometimes it was a struggle to get on my binder because I was tired or still wet from a shower. But here, my muscles surged, and there was no extra friction at all. Frustrated, I yanked it down, my hands robotically pulling at the back part before adjusting the front. I took a deep breath, unprepared for the lack of elasticity.

Flicking on the light switch, I looked into the mirror. From a side view, my chest appeared much flatter than I was used to. No, it wasn't all gone, but it seemed to blend in more like pecs. I ran my fingers along the slippery outside material like a muffled record scratch, and my eyes became easily distracted by the gains in my arms and shoulders. I tensed up, whether from the oddness of the situation or simply to flex, and sure enough I had gotten bigger since yesterday, even just by a little bit. No wonder my binder fit tighter, but I wasn't unpleased.

I pulled on a tank top over my binder and boxers and practically leapt to the couch, ready to relax and admire my muscles, until I remembered Michelle.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I had successfully wasted my day off by sleeping and fretting over an old acquaintance's recollection of me.

Rather, whether or not Michelle recognized me. I knew that it was highly unlikely as I had changed plenty since the eighth grade, but still I felt sick at the realization that I knew who she was on the spot.

Would she notice that I wasn't at school? Maybe she would think it was because I was avoiding her. Was I avoiding her? I didn't think so...

What if Ned told her? No, why would he do that? I swallowed my nerves and simply decided that I would go back to school tomorrow, and until then I would try my best not to worry about any of it.

I was slumped on the couch now, scrolling through Instagram and drinking hot tea. Aunt May was reading a book, as she had left work early to come check on me, and she suddenly looked up at me.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?" I asked nervously, for no reason at all.

"Have you finally started wearing those contacts that you've had forever?"

Confused, I brought my hand up to touch the bridge of my nose where my glasses should have been, but I misjudged the distance and ended up smacking myself rather roughly in the face. I winced, reopening my eyes to blink around the room. I could see perfectly. Flawlessly, at that. I wasn't sure whether to be more concerned that I had forgotten to put on my glasses this morning, or that my eye sight suddenly seemed to have been fixed.

"Yeah," I muttered nervously.

"Huh," May huffed, before turning her attention back to her book.

Fascinated, I fiddled with my phone as I glanced around the room. The clock - I could read the clock. I could even see the TV clearly, which was turned to the news where a story had just come out about something called the Sokovia Accords. An image of the Avengers flashed across the screen.

"I-I'm gonna go lay down again," I said, clutching my wrist.

"Let me know if you need anything," Aunt May said, her eyes never lifting from her book, but by that point I was already in my room. The door slammed, and I witnessed a small crack form above the frame.

My grip on my arm tightened until my fingers began to turn red. It couldn't be. I wasn't sure what had happened to me in that lab, but I was going to find out.

I hurried to my computer, a mismatched set of technology that I had compiled from various dumpsters and consignment shops, and began to search up everything that I never wanted to know about spiders.

And so, I began testing my abilities. My vision had increased dramatically, to the point where I sometimes had to cover up part of my eyes to focus clearly on something. I knew that my strength was also more apparent, but I couldn't exactly test that here. What about... webs? I nearly laughed at the thought of being able to weave cobwebs whenever I wished. I flicked my wrists around, pointing and aiming at various objects.

Having failed, and still being overwhelmed by whatever the fuck was going on, I sighed deeply. As I went to bring my hand up to my throbbing temple, I accidentally whacked myself in the head. I groaned loudly, but when I went to move my hand away, it stuck to my face. Just great.

I pulled and pulled but nothing was working. Eventually, I had to coax each fingertip off one by one by the use of my free hand. I examined my fingers closely and, with my newly heightened vision, I swore that I could see tiny hair-like things covered my hand. Eyes wide, I stood up and walked to a space on my wall that was vacant, save an Academic Decathlon poster. I hesitantly placed one hand on the wall, and then the other, and finally my foot. Steadying myself, I cautiously let go of the floor completely and was now clinging desperately to the shiny paper of the poster. I began slowly climbing upwards, one hand and then the other, until I came to the place where the wall met the ceiling, and then I continued on.

I was now completely reliant on my new spider abilities, and as I reluctantly turned my head to look at the distance I was from the cold, hard floor, I fell.

Springs creaked as I collapsed right onto the mattress. "Nice save, Peter," I mumbled. I was now completely exhausted by my efforts, but I wanted to try one more thing. The clock now read eleven o'clock, and the world outside of my window had grown a dark color.

I crept out of my room, scanning the area to make sure May wasn't still up, and pursued the kitchen. I retrieved an orange from the drawer in the fridge and examined it closely. When I had first started my t shots, I remembered the nurse having my first practice on an orange. And so I took the fruit in my hand now and bit into it with all of my might. Venom, right?

"Peter, honey, you do know that you're supposed to peel the orange first?" Shit. I turned around to see Aunt May standing there in a bathrobe and slippers. My teeth burned from the cold, but I hadn't seemed to have poisoned the flesh of the orange.

I looked at May and nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah totally, I was just uh- trying to see if it was... ripe."

She laughed softly, wrapping an arm around me as she led me back to my room and helped me onto the bed. "Goodnight, Peter. Sweet dreams."

As she shut the door, I cursed to myself. If I still hadn't been able to spot her with my new eyesight, then I was going to practice. Hell, maybe in practicing I would even find a way to conjure my own venom.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

After I "recovered from my illness," I was thrown right back into the mess that I had left my life in a few days prior. The museum. Michelle. Pushing Ned away. I was so committed to fix what had gone wrong, that I wasn't even surprised when I walked into Biology first period to see that new face seated right next to Ned, at our lab table.

Peter, you've got this. You're a superhero, one girl can't ruin you.

I marched up to the table, my thumbs latched under the straps of my backpack. "Hey, guys, what's up?" Voice crack. Of course. My smile faltered but I pushed through. My eyes met Michelle's before quickly retreating to Ned's.

"Peter! Oh, I was so worried about you. May called and told me that everything was alright but I hadn't heard from you so I thought that maybe-"

"Ned!" I exclaimed as I laughed nervously and patted him on the back. I didn't need him drawing any more attention to my situation than need be. He winced at my touch, and I quickly drew my hand back when I realized that I was practically slapping him. Instead, I cleared my throat and pulled up a stool, sitting down carefully.

I then began sifting through my backpack, trying to keep myself as unapproachable as possible to the no doubt observant Michelle. I felt her gaze on me, and immediately felt threatened.

"Uhh, you know what Ned, I'm not really better. I actually feel quite ill again, oh no, I'd better go," I said through muffled fake coughs as I began yanking at the zipper on my backpack. "It was nice meeting you Michelle, alright, I'll see you around-"

"Mr. Parker. Where do you think you're going?"

I turned to face my teacher, Ms. Warren, who stared me down with a well-equipped poker face.

"Uh, I, uh- No where," I explained. "I was just, uh, sitting down. Right here, see?" I laughed awkwardly as I slid onto the stool beside Ned once more. Ms. Warren gave me a questionable glare once more before beginning the lecture.

I heard Ned trying to get my attention beside me, inconspicuously of course because our teacher had eyes like a hawk, but I pretended not to notice by staring straight forward as though I were engaged in the lesson. Instead, I was trying to save myself an anxiety attack by thinking about my untapped abilities. Webbing.

I was sure I could concoct some sort of formula which I could then suit into web launchers of some sort. Who knew whether they would actually come in handy, but it would be fun at least.

"Hey, Peter," I heard Michelle call my voice.

"Huh?" I asked, snapping out of my daze only to see that Ms. Warren was no longer speaking, and the entire class had begun to work amongst themselves. Ned was no longer beside me. "Where's Ned?"

"He went to get materials," Michelle replied, and then for my confused look added, "for the lab."

"How do you know my name?" I was shocked. Did she really not recognize me? Or did Ned tell her everything? What if they were best friends, now, without me?

"Relax, buddy," Ned chuckled as he placed an arm around my shoulder and sat down once more. "Peter, meet MJ. MJ, meet Peter."

I blushed immediately. Maybe it wasn't Michelle, maybe it was someone entirely new and I had nothing to worry about.

"I used to be Michelle," MJ clarified. I was confused, was she reading my thoughts? "You know, since you just called me Michelle a few minutes ago? Anyway, it's just MJ now."

My face reddened even more with that. Gosh, now she knew that I knew her before, and she probably was remembering me right now!

"Right, yeah. Sorry... MJ," I mumbled, trying to regain my composure.

"So! Shall we start the lab, then?" Ned broke in with an overly cheery face as he clapped his hands together. He always came to the rescue at one point or another, as long as I was willing to let him. I nodded eagerly, allowing my eyes to drop to the notebook in front of me.

The lab proceeded without any bumps, and I found myself thinking about MJ once more. Not in an anxious manner as I had been, but in a more thoughtful way.

Today she was wearing a loose black button down shirt over black skinny jeans and burgundy Doc Martens. Her hair was in a messy updo, as it had been at the museum, with her side bangs left out. I remembered her always being the "tom boy" of the class when we were younger, even moreso than I. She was the kid in a baggy t-shirt with knots in her hair, sat in the corner reading a book.

Suddenly, I felt bad for how I had reacted around her at first. She had just switched schools and was probably trying to make friends for once.

I hadn't realized I was staring, but she met my eyes. I offered her a smile smile, however weak and sympathetic is was, and in the same instant she managed to divert her attention from me. I brushed it off, assuming she hadn't seen.

Finally, the last five minutes of class approached and we all started cleaning up the work space.

"So, MJ, are you thinking about joining any clubs?" Ned asks as we finish.

"Actually, I was thinking about Academic Decathlon."

My eyes lit up. "Academic Decathlon! Wow, yeah, you should do that! That would be great- I'm in that! I do Academic Decathlon!" My face flushed at my eagerness.

"Yes, Peter, we know you do," Ned sighed.

MJ only laughed. "Well, then, I guess I'll see you there!"

The bell rang curtly and MJ hurried off, saying something about having to follow a map.

"I thought you were gay!" Ned exclaimed as we exited the room and started on our way to English.

"What?! No, Ned, I'm bi. I thought we went over- wait, what made you think that I'm not gay?" I asked in a fluster.

"Nothing, just... You seemed a lot more friendly with MJ today than you were the other day," he said as he smirked.

I huffed, deciding that I had no argument against that. Now my main focus was to get through this school day so that I could go home and, well, unleash my inner spider. I noted that I was going to have to get a better name for that if this was going to become a regular thing.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I practically flew home that day, although it was really more like just running super fast, because flying was Iron Man's thing. Why couldn't I have been bit by a bird, or- or a dragon, or something? Spiders are creepy!

Instead of going up to the apartment through the elevator, I decided to try something new. I entered the alley next to the building and leaned against the adjacent brick wall, staring up at my bedroom window. I hadn't gone back here in a while, and I was beginning to remember why. I heard Flash's taunting in the back of my mind. "Penis Parker, I know something's wrong with you. You even cry like a girl!" Flash and I had gone to middle school together, along with probably a quarter of our peers, so he knew that I was trans and he would never let me forget it.

He used to follow me home from school with his posse and leave me lying among the dumpsters. But of course, that was before Ned. Now, Flash still pushed me around at school, but it rarely got as bad as it had at the beginning of freshman year. I shuddered at the thought that Flash knew my biggest secret. Or, was it still my biggest secret? He didn't know about my... spider thing. Seriously, I needed a better name for that.

With my pent up anger unleashed, I took a running start for the wall. One hand latched on and then the other, and soon I was scampering upwards. The rough feeling of bricks against my skin was a fair price to pay for the feeling of freedom. It was like I could just climb away from all the taunting and teasing, like for a moment I was finally a man instead of Midtown High's Token Trans Kid. I mean, a mutant spider man, but a man nonetheless.

I was fr-

"Oh shit." I heard the sound of my grip ripping from the bricks before I felt myself begin to fall. A nice trampoline to fall back on would really help in a moment like this, or perhaps something more practical like a parachute. Either way, I was going down.

I scraped at the air, one hand catching hold of a window ledge in the process, but I was too panicked to help myself. I slipped from my hold on the frame, catching sight of my last hope; The sound of metal creaking nearly blasted my eardrums out - exaggeration - as I wielded the foldable fire escape ladder. Having underestimated my strength, I yanked it down with all my force, causing it to loosen dramatically. I was still dangling six feet high as it came to an abrupt stop, part of it bent out of shape and the whole thing crooked. It was about to collapse.

Eyeing the lid of the dumpster beneath me and a few feet forwards, I used all my night to swing my legs back, forth, back and forth again, this time leaping onto the plastic surface. I landed with a thump and a crack, the ladder creaking with relief.

I was pretty sure I had smashed the lid of the dumpster, but regardless I pulled myself back onto the ground beneath just as quickly as I had fallen.

I was going to have to get started on that webbing if I wanted to keep playing around like this.

Having braved the climb back up to my window, I slipped inside and began filtering through a bin of clothes under my bed that I rarely wore anymore. I pulled out a pair of blue sweatpants and a red hoodie.

After debating whether to take my binder off, I decided to keep it on, and changed my clothes quickly. Then, I went searching in the closet in the hall until I found a ski mask. It was also from quite a few years ago and the face of it was designed to look like Iron Man's mask. It was a little embarrassing to wear now, but at least nobody would know who I was.

Fit in my new gear, also with a pair of fingerless black gloves, I slipped back out the window. I stood on the ledge staring upwards, and finally got up the courage to scamper up to the top of the building.

The view from here was breathtaking, and it wasn't just because of my enhanced eyesight. I was practically on top of the world. Eyeing the roof of the building next to me, I took a running start - generating more speed than I ever had before - and leapt over the bustling street below. My legs wobbled in midair and a gargled scream exhaled my lips, but nevertheless I safely stumbled a few feet onto the next roof.

The panic began to fade into laughter, and I let out an exaggerated, "Woohoo!" before sprinting onwards and eyeing the target once more.

I wasn't quite sure what exactly I was supposed to do with these powers, especially since I wasn't supposed to get them in the first place. Nobody knew, and I intended to keep it that way. In fact, my only source of guidance was the Avengers, but I was sure that they wouldn't be much help to some kid from Queens. For now, this was just going to be my secret side gig, and my mind buzzed at the thought that this was my life now. I was... Spider-Boy.

I dramatically threw my shoulders back and stuck my chin out as I said aloud, "No, I'm Spider-Man."

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I walked into biology the following morning, still on a high from my evening of, well, gymnastics and showing off, and managed to have completely forgotten about the events of class yesterday until I laid eyes on Ned and MJ. Y'know, Ned's observation that I wasn't in fact completely homosexual.

I still wasn't sure about MJ. She had been nothing but kind to me, but I had a tendency to have difficulty trusting people. New people were bad, because I was constantly paranoid that they would be able to sense that I was trans, but people from my past were even worse. I had an idea on how to find out if she remembered me, but I was going to need Ned's help.

"Peter, hey! Good thing you're here, I have to head down to guidance and I didn't want to leave MJ here all alone," Ned greeted me as he winked. My face flushed red. Well, there goes my plan.

"No, you don't. You can just go after class. Actually, I think I should probably check in with my guidance counselor as well, so we can just go together later!" I pleaded, trying to keep my voice down so MJ wouldn't hear.

"Sorry, bud, I gotta go," Ned exclaimed with a smirk, and then turned to our mysterious lab partner. "MJ, if Peter acts like he doesn't know an answer, he really does. He's a genius, and quite charming if I do say so myself." Ned patted me on the back and quickly exited the room. My eyes widened, but MJ only giggled, obviously taking it as a joke. I tried to laugh along too, as I took my seat beside her.

Our assignment for today was simply to finish up our lab from yesterday, and I intended to get it done quickly so that I could get started on a new project I had stayed up all night planning for.

"So, Parker, where'd you disappear to at the museum the other day?" she asked suddenly, and I could tell that she was trying to make eye contact with me. There were many things wrong with that statement. First of all, she had noticed that I fled when I saw her, and second of all, she called me Parker. Everyone had called me by my last name all throughout middle school, because even my peers noticed that my birth name never truly suited me. MJ had been among those kids, which meant that she remembered me. She knew. Just like that, any comfort I had established around her vanished.

"Disappear? I didn't disappear..." I lied. "I mean, I just got sick. I didn't feel well, so I went home."

"Fair enough," she said thoughtfully. She always had this look that was on the verge of evil, but it still called out to me to trust her.

My eyebrows furrowed. At any other time I would have bonded with MJ quite quickly, but this whole Spider-Man thing was on my mind too much. Well, that and being trans.

"I was gonna, uh, try a little side experiment of my own real quick, if you wouldn't mind starting on that lab report," I said quietly. Nervously, I tugged at the layers on my chest and readjusted them.

I was expecting to hear something along the lines of, "We're not supposed to use chemicals for our own experiments," or something posh like that, but she simply nodded and began writing. Relieved, I placed my notebook on my lap and flipped through until I found a sheet labeled "Web Fluid: Version 1.0" in messy writing. Handwriting was something that my spider powers hadn't messed with, to my dismay.

I had already started the recipe at home but I was missing a key ingredient. From my bag I pulled a ziplock bag of a greyish liquid, which I poured into a small glass beaker under the table. I discreetly placed in a drawer beside me, sneaking glances up at MJ to make sure that she wasn't doing the same to me, and dumped in the final substance which I had swiped from the back counter where we kept supplies. I stirred it with a glass rod quickly before the reaction began, in which case I closed the drawer and turned my attention back to the lab.

"So Ned says you're a genius?"

I snapped my eyes towards MJ, who spoke as she wrote on the lab sheet. I blushed, equally relieved that she wasn't looking. "Uh, haha, I mean not really, no. He's just... a very flattering character." I cringed at my choice of words, it having been a long time since I tried to make a new friend. "I haven't got a photographic memory, or anything. I just like school."

She didn't protest that, though I was sure that she didn't feel the same. Recalling memories of her sat alone on the playground in elementary school, I noticed that that hadn't changed much. She seemed perfectly content with just Ned and I, for some reason.

"I mean, the academics, not so much the social part. Not that I don't-"

"You don't fit in all that well, do you?" she asked, making my palms sweat. Why did Ned have to leave today of all days? "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to read you."

"Well, reading me would require looking at me," I returned, not annoyed so much as avoiding the question.

"I am," she said in a chipper voice, as she finally turned to me and held up the notebook. It held a drawing of me, chin resting on my hand and staring out into space, trying to sort out my life no doubt.

"You drew me... oh wow!" I said awkwardly, not exactly knowing how to respond to that. I at least offered her a smile.

"Shut up, you don't have to say anything." She looked back at her work, signed her name, ripped the paper from the notebook and thrust it toward me.

"Thanks, MJ. You're... really cool," I said finally. It was true, I was beginning to grow accustomed to her presence.

"And you're a nerd," she shot back, obviously as bad at this as I was. I let out a laugh at her recovery. In that moment, I forgot that I was supposed to be afraid of her and whether or not she had the power to blackmail me completely.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

"Alright, so there's leftovers in the fridge for dinner and emergency numbers by the TV. Ned can come over, if you want, and I'll be home-"

"-Sunday by 3:00. Yes, I know, we've been over this at least five times," I groaned. "I'll be fine, May. You're gonna miss your train if you put off leaving any longer."

May pulled me into a tight hug. "I know, it's just... I worry." I thought I was going to have to peel her off of me myself, but she stepped backwards herself. "I love you, call me if anything happens!"

"I love you too, May. Have fun," I called after her as she left down the hall with a small suitcase behind her. She was going away for the weekend with a few friends, and me being her sole responsibility, it was hard for her to leave me by myself over night, let alone for two nights.

Of course, as soon as she left, I darted to my room and pulled the bundle of red and blue from the hatch in my ceiling. All week I had been working tirelessly on a proper suit, or as proper as a fifteen year old kid could do with his aunt's mediocre sewing kit.

I stripped out of my clothes, leaving on only a binder and my boxers, and pulled on the suit. It was snug, but I knew that that would be a bonus when I was flying through the sky. I made sure that my new web shooters were ready to use, and shoved my phone into the pocket of the suit.

Once I had all my gear in check, I slid open my window and stepped out carefully, perched on the ledge as I shut it. Then, I strategically shot a web up high on the building across the alley and swung upwards onto the roof. I had tested the web fluid the other day, and I had to admit it made this whole gig a lot more fun.

Tonight wasn't just a joyride, it was more of a mission. I leapt and swung from building to building, keeping a mental map of the route to MJ's apartment. I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do once I got there, but I was going anyway.

"Hey MJ, funny story, I got bit by a spider and now I can do-" I did a triple backflip from one rooftop onto another, "-this! Surprise!" I said jokingly to myself. It was ridiculous, and I didn't intend on telling anyone. I finally came to her building, and I counted the windows until I found the one that must be hers, and then I sat down on a fire escape across from it and watched. The room was faintly lit, and from what I could see all of that light was being reflected from the screen of a laptop. I could see the outline of her curly hair, likely in her famous messy ponytail, but that was about it.

I don't know what I thought I was going to find, but something about the idea of her sitting alone in her room all evening made me want to keep her company.

Below me in the alley, I heard a commotion. A man's voice, yelling, the sound of shoving. The sun was barely peaking out from the skyline and I couldn't quite see down that far, so I abandoned MJ's window and swung down to where I could get an eye on the situation.

A man in a leather jacket was pinning a girl up against the brick wall. For a moment I thought I should simply duck away and let them do their thing and maybe read about it on the news in the morning, but part of me realized that I could do better than that. I watched as the girl squirmed under his grasp, letting out a cry.

Taking in a deep breath, I flung my wrist out, webbing spraying out as I leapt from my place and flew right over the top of the man's head

"Hey! What was that?" he cried out. He stepped backwards a little bit but kept his grip on the girl's waist as he looked around, trying to spot what had quite literally gone over his head.

I froze in my place in the shadows, unsure of what to do next. To my dismay, I watched as he shrugged it off and turned his attention back to her. She continued to struggle.

"Hey, you! Over here!" I shouted suddenly, jumping out from where I was hiding. My voice cracked and I quickly cleared my throat.

This time, he put all of his attention on me as he gave me a funny look. I could tell now that he was at least half a foot taller than me, and tattoos crept up his neck. I gulped. "Who are you, kid? Are those your pajamas? Get outta here, it's past your bedtime," he spat, slowly approaching me.

My instinct was the flee in the other directions, but I had a cooler idea in mind so I went for it. I flicked my wrist, sending a web his way, but in the same moment he lunged at me, causing the web to stick to the collar of his jacket. I sent him spiraling backwards, and then I scurried back into my own corner once more. He tumbled into a dumpster, tangled up in webbing which he frantically pulled at. Finally, he shrugged off his jacket entirely, freeing himself of the sticky situation.

"Oh shit," I said under my breath as I began to sprint in the opposite direction. I heard his heavy breathing as I turned the corner, running straight into a line of traffic.

A horn blasted as a car swerved around me, and headlights blinded me. I managed to make out the shape of a bus coming towards me, until at the last moment it too was deterred, this time rolling left towards the other direction of traffic.

Panicking, I leapt towards it, managing to cling onto the rear bumper as if I could stop it from going far. By some miracle, I did. The brakes squealed as I yanked it backwards, setting it straight in the now-empty lane. On one side, my ribs began to ache, but it was no match for the adrenaline I felt in that moment. Looking around me as I let go, I saw all of the cars beginning to stop and people gathering on the sidewalk. They all gaped at me, and suddenly I was more thankful than ever for this mask.

Checking again to make sure that nobody appeared to be hurt, I remembered the man I had been running from. I spotted a lightpost by the side of the road and shot out a web, latching onto it and flinging myself onto a balcony above. I scanned the area and quickly spotted the glint of a leather jacket, retreating back into the alley I had run from. Careful to avoid the street this time, I easily found my way back.

The man was pursuing his actions from before, and this time I was more careful to aim as I spun him around and around with my webbing. He grunted, laying on the pavement now, and repeated his words from before. "Who are you, you freak?"

Though he couldn't see it, I was grinning beneath the mask. "I'm Spider-Man."

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I woke up on Monday morning with a sick feeling in my stomach. After a weekend of crime fighting, it was no doubt school was going to be a drag. Well, there was only one real night of crime fighting. The rest of the weekend was spent patrolling rooftops and playing video games with Ned. And I helped this nice old lady and she bought me a churro!

I rolled over in bed, my stomach still nagging me, until I finally recognized the pain. I had been taking hormones for over a year now, and this familiar feeling had gone away months ago. But now it was back: Shark week.

I knew that it was possible for it to return, but only on rare occasion. Why was this happening to me? Curled up in a ball, I knew that I couldn't face going to school that day. Hell, it would be awkward enough having to tell Aunt May. It was just one of those things that I didn't want to ever talk about, ever.

Even with my newly defined muscles from the spider bite, even with my miniature superhero powers, this was the thing that was going to ruin my day. It had just the right timing, which made me wonder if it was all connected. The spider, it had done something to my body. I wasn't sure what, yet, but perhaps it had caused a hormone imbalance of sorts. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of the mess that would put me in. At this rate, I definitely couldn't mention this to May.

*****TW ends*****

Sure enough, an hour later I was sitting in biology. We had a substitute. so I was ferverously typing away on my phone, trying to find any sort of research connecting radioactive spider RNA to hormone intake, but turning up empty handed. MJ and Ned were watching YouTube videos beside me, but I couldn't be bothered to join in. I felt like smashing my head into the desk.

"Peter, have you seen this?" Ned chirped up, noticing my quietness.

Finally, I glanced up at the screen to see an all-too familiar scene. It was a clip of me on Friday night, as Spider-Man.

As if this day couldn't get any worse. Or... better? I had to admit, I looked pretty cool stopping that bus. Too bad they didn't get the part where I webbed up that bad guy and ditched him in the alley.

"W-what's this?" I asked innocently.

MJ chimed in immediately. "This guy's all over the internet, how have you not heard of him?" I gave her a blank stare in reply, and she continued. "He totally saved this girl from this creep. Afterwards, she told a news reporter that he called himself 'Spider-Man'. He can like, shoot webs and stuff. And he's in New York!"

A part of me felt a little jealous. MJ seemed to be so interested in Spider-Man, but I knew she would be disappointed if she found out that I was him. But the other part of me thought that maybe there might be some way for me to use Spider-Man as a way to get closer to her.

"Yeah, that's... he seems pretty cool," I shrugged, slightly shaken by the recognition. My natural instinct in life was simply to try to hide and blend in as much as possible. I steered clear of the popular crowd and kept within my small group of friends: Ned, and now MJ. But for some reason, being behind a mask made me able to be visible. When I was Spider-Man, I didn't have to worry about all of Peter Parker's problems, I had my own. It was like a switch was flipped. I didn't become a new person, but I was simply seen in a new light. I could get used to this whole double life thing. Maybe I could even learn to impress Flash.

"Hey Peter," I heard MJ whisper seductively in my ear. I jumped, tensing up, as I stared back with wide eyes. She laughed, falling back into her chair, and Ned joined in.

"Dude, you totally zoned out," he said through giggles as I glared back, my face flushed.

"What do you waaant?" I groaned.

"Well, I was wondering if you two wanted to come hang at my place later," MJ finally spoke up. My eyes lit up.

"Hang out? At your place?- of course! Yeah, right, Ned? We can do that!" I chirped immediately. Then, remembering that I had stood outside her window just a few nights before, made sure to add, "I don't have your address. Where do you live?"

Once again, Ned and MJ starting laughing, as he leaned in and said, "I told you that would make him happy!" I returned my usual confused looked, to which he replied, "We noticed you've been all moppy all day, and we wanted to cheer you up!"

I frowned to myself at that, but they didn't seem to notice. I didn't like when people picked up on my emotions, which is why I usually tried my best to hide them. Because when people see through you, they want to know what was wrong, and then all of their attention is on you. This was exactly the kind of thing that I wanted to avoid. But, with Ned and MJ, I suppose it couldn't be as bad as I was making it out to be, besides, I wanted to spend time with them. It would probably be good for me to get back into my own head, instead of pretending to be some spider guy all night. I mean I was some spider guy, but that's beside the point.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

"NED! Cover me!" A muffled scream followed from the other side of the room as MJ's character collapsed on the scream. "Ne-ed, you got me killed!"

I laughed, but was quickly shushed by MJ's sharp glare. "Parker, I wouldn't be laughing if I were you, pretty soon that'll be your ass up on the screen that I'll be beating!"

As it turned out, MJ had an incredibly competitive side to her, which also made it clear that Ned and I sucked at video games. I glanced at Ned, and we shared at look of determination to team up and defeat her.

"Seriously, guys, you don't know what you're getting into. I am the master of video games! You haven't even seen what I'm capable of yet," MJ boasted as she jokingly flexed her muscles. I laughed, leaning over her to get another piece of pizza from the box.

"Did you hear that, Peter? MJ's not like other girls," Ned proclaimed. I watched as MJ's smile faltered. "Whaaat it was just a joke, M," Ned said.

We both watched MJ cautiously, but she was just staring at the floor. I looked at Ned as if to say, what do we do now? But he only shrugged. I didn't even know what we had said wrong.

"Well, I mean," MJ spoke up finally, "I'm not a girl."

My eyes widened at the all-too-familiar statement and I gulped. "What exactly do you mean, that you're not a girl?" I tried to say patiently, not wanting to scare MJ as I knew how tough it was to come out.

"I mean, I'm not a girl, but I'm not a boy. I'm somewhere in between..."

I was at a loss for words, and my mind went reeling back to when I had come out to Aunt May just a few years earlier. Luckily, Ned came to the rescue. "That's cool, MJ, do you want us to use they/them pronouns for you now?"

MJ let out a huge grin. "Yes! Yes of course, that would be great!" I couldn't help but smile back.

I was sitting in between my two friends, and suddenly Ned tackled MJ into a hug, pulling me in as well. We all laughed, ending up in a very comfortable pig pile.

"Thank you for telling us, MJ. I feel like we're all a lot closer now," Ned said in a fake weepy tone.

"Yes, Ned, we're definitely closer now. In fact you're on top of us," I joked. Now that I had opened my mouth I felt like the spotlight was on me. "And of course MJ, we accept you."

"Aww thanks guys! I'm glad to have you both as friends!" Just as I was beginning to untangle myself from the pile, MJ squeezed us all into a hug once more.

We lay like that, in an silence that was about as comfortable as the pig pile, until Ned erupted with, "Also I'm gay!"

"Shut up, Ned, we all knew that already," I chuckled.

"Noo, MJ didn't know," he pouted.

To this MJ stifled a laugh. "Ned, of course I knew. You act like I don't have a gaydar of my own in here," they said, pointing to their temple.

"And I'm... bi!" I said hesitantly. I didn't know why it was so hard to just say I'm trans and get it over with, as I was nearly positive that MJ already knew. But then again, it was my business to share and I could talk about it when I was ready. Even with Ned, I didn't talk about it much at all. I liked to be able to forget sometimes.

We spent the rest of the night finishing off the pizza and flipping through old magazines trying to determine which people were gay, and it truly did feel like we were all closer.

But my mind kept wandering; What if MJ needed a binder but couldn't get one? What if they simply wanted to talk things out with someone else who wasn't cis? What if they needed something and I could help, but now I can't because I'm too afraid to tell them?

Ned's phone buzzed suddenly, and upon reading the message he said, "Shoot, I gotta go. I told my mom I would be home by now." With that, he gathered his things and rushed out the door, leaving MJ and I behind. Alone. We began cleaning up their room, as somehow the three of us managed to trash the place in just a couple of hours, with pizza boxes, soda cans, and video games everywhere.

This is your chance, Peter. Tell them that you're trans! I took a deep breath, obeying my subconscious for once in my life.

"MJ, I'm trans," I said quickly, not giving myself any time to think before I said the words. To my surprise, they were not surprised.

"I would pretend to be shocked, but I already knew that," they said smoothly. "I mean, not that it's obvious. It's not at all. I just mean, I figured out that we used to go to school together, and I sorta put together the pieces." To my surprise, they spoke quietly, hiding behind their bangs as though they thought I might get mad at them for knowing. In opposition, this was a huge relief.

"I kinda guessed that you would eventually, but I'm sorta glad you did," I admitted. We both sat in silence now, having halted our cleaning duties.

"What can I say, I'm observant," MJ laughed. "You better not have any other secrets hidden from me, or I'll figure those out too." I knew it was only a joke, but I froze at that. There was no way in hell I could let them, or anybody really, find out that I was Spider-Man. It was a bit of a safe haven, and at the same time it was so dangerous that I didn't want anyone trying to keep me from doing it.

"I should probably get going now, my aunt will wonder where I am," I said, scratching the back of my neck nervously.

"Alright, I'll see you at school tomorrow then," MJ said, and walked me to the front door. Catching me off guard, they pulled me into a hug. Not one of Ned's roughhousing forms of affection, but a gentler embrace. I hugged them back tightly, noting how good they smelled. "Thank you, Peter," they said as they pulled away. "Get home safe, okay?"

"Will do," I said confidently. The whole way home, I leapt from rooftop to rooftop, enjoying the aloneness of it all.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

If it weren't for me being able to swing from building to building like Tarzan, I would be a shit Spider-Man. Even though the spider bite had impacted my muscles and lung capacity, running in a binder was nearly off the table. I relied on my web shooters, but my chest still heaved beneath the restricting fabric of my binder. I wanted it off, but I knew that I would be no help to the city if I was bed-ridden with dysphoria all night long.

A siren off in the distance caught my attention, not that sirens were uncommon in the city but that it was so close. I had only just pursued this man who had been trying to rob an old couple, and usually it took the cops much longer than that to catch on. Sure enough, a glance behind me told me that the cruiser was on the prowl.

Swinging down from above, I swiftly encased the burglar in a web cocoon, securing him to a telephone pole, and escaped around the corner. I didn't like to get involved with the police, I just liked to do my good deeds and move on. Though the recent recognition on the news wasn't unappreciated. Once out of sight, I dropped down to the concrete and began walking slowly. I closed my eyes as I traveled, still trying to calm down and catch my breath. It was probably time to turn in for the night, anyway.

Suddenly, the high pitched siren yelped as it crescendoed around the corner I had just rounded, and blue and red lights flashed in my eyes. Before I could react, three cop cars had encircled me against the side of a shop.

I reached out my arm, intending to send a web up to the building behind me and take the easy way out, but the movement causes an eruption of pain in my left ribcage, causing me grip my side in agony.

A car door opened, and suddenly a bright light was shined in my eye.

I lowered my voice before speaking, as I naturally did around strangers. "Hey sir, we don't really need to chat. I don't want to talk to you. I caught the bad guy for you already, so I'm just gonna go-."

"Freeze!" a sharp voice cut me off. I was completely taken aback. Didn't I just help them out? "Hands behind your head."

"Man, I've got homework-"

"Hands. Now." Slowly, so as to not anger the cop nor trigger any more pain from my side, I lifted my hands like I had seen criminals do in movies. But I wasn't a criminal, was I? It bothered me that I still couldn't see the face of the man was talking to me due to the bright lights, and even more that I didn't see the officer approach me from behind. My heart was pounding as he grabbed hold of me, the cold metal cuffs click-click-clicking as they locked into place around one wrist and then the other.

The first man finally approached me, as the other kept a tight grip on my arm despite my struggles.

"So, you're the Spider-Man, eh?" he asked in a menacing tone as he stared into my masked eyes.

"Actually, it's just Spider-Man. There's no 'the'," I squeaked out, tensing up.

"Well then, Spider-Man," he corrected condescendingly, "how about we take off this mask here?" His fingers ran across the back of my neck, sending the bad kind of shivers down my spine.

I was too scared to speak. How was this happening? May was going to kill me, and I meant that. She would find some way to have my head before she even reached the station. I couldn't get arrested, that just wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't part of the plan. Maybe the stupid part was not having a plan in the first place, but I really didn't think that stopping bad guys from doing bad things was something worth being arrested for! Now everyone was going to know my real identity. Ned and MJ were going to hate me, I would get expelled from school, scientists would abduct me and run tests and I would be stuck in a freak show for the rest of my life, and May would disown me. I would never get to ace the math test I was supposed to take tomorrow.

The officer jerked his hand back, a sour look on his face as he stared up at the sky. I followed his gaze to wear a shiny looking object was zipping towards us like a missile. At first I was taken aback, until I realized what, or who, it was. No way. This day just got better. Not that it was any good before, but it was really good right now. Doubly good.

With a slight shake of the earth, the red and gold capsule landed solidly next to me. Timidly, I turned my head, the officer having the same reaction. The mask retracted backwards, in fact the entire suit began to dismantle itself, and out walked a well-dressed Tony Stark.

"Woah," I mumbled in awe, staring at the idol from my childhood. He merely glanced at me before looking to the officer, who now wore more of an "oh shit" face.

"Mr... Police-Officer-whatever-your-name-is, I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the... Spider-Man," Tony started. Me?

"Is he, yknow, one of yours?" the officer asked quickly, like an employee eagerly trying to not upset a patron.

"Jesus, you make it sound like they're all my kids. I'm too young to be a father," Tony said in an exasperated voice, like this was a conversation he had every day. "But yes... he's with me." He placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a light pat. No one spoke for a moment, until Tony finally turned his attention to the man still squeezing my other arm, and said, "That was your cue to let him go. You're supposed to let him go now."

"Oh, right!" the officer recovered, likely still in awe of the famous superhero's presence.

The sound of jingling keys came, and in seconds my hands were pulled free. I immediately brought them up to the back of my neck where my mask met the rest of my suit, assuring that everything was still concealed. The cops still stood there, looking quite dumbfounded, and I admitted I probably looked the same.

"Why does everyone look so surprised to see me? Fury couldn't make it so they sent me instead. Alright, scatter already," Tony said to them, annoyed. "Go." He flicked them off with his wrist, and they retreated.

"Mr. Stark-" I began, but he was already scrolling through his phone.

"That means you too, kid. Go home," he said abruptly. I was taken aback once more. I was finally meeting the one, the only, Tony Stark, the one man who might have a clue what's up with me, and I was supposed to just say goodbye.

"I just wanted to say, thank you. Thank you so much. You know, I was so scared, I thought they were actually going to arrest me! And then you swooped in all cool like, and-" I rambled on, nearly losing my breath in the process.

"Save it, you'll be seeing me around again. Now, go home, I have some business to do and I can't keep saving you on the streets like this. I'm a little out of your league, if you couldn't tell," he said matter of factly.

"Oh- oh right, of course Mr. Stark. Yes, I'll see you- okay, okay, I'm going now." I held my hands up in mock surrender as he nodded, giving me a strange look. I waved goodbye, saluted, and nearly blew a kiss before I actually exited the scene, and even then I walked away instead of webbing up in fear that I might mess up in front of him and fall flat on my face. What had just happened? I began skipping gleefully, ignoring any looks I got from passerbyers because I had just met Tony Stark! I had just seen Iron Man in action! And he said I was going to see him again! I couldn't help but wonder when...

I walked all the way home, changed quickly behind a dumpster, and hid my suit in my backpack. The second I burst through the front door of the apartment, I realized that it wasn't going to be long at all before I saw Mr. Stark again, since he was sitting on my couch.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

"Evening, Peter. I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

I met the eyes of Tony Stark, who was lounging casually on the couch, still done up in a dark grey suit and tie and with his hair perfectly untouched. I had barely gotten in the door, and now I stumbled forward, dropping my backpack to the ground. "Hi, I'm- I'm Peter," I said in awe, even though he had just said my name. My voice cracked and I winced.

"Peter, the door, please," May said, sitting down next to the celebrity with a mug of tea and a plate of scones.

"Right, yeah, the door..." I said, still in a dreamy state. I reached an arm out blindly behind me and shoved the door closed, not taking my eyes off of Stark. "What are you... what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to talk to you about..." he eyed May worriedly, but she was too busy beaming at me. "...the Internship program."

"The- the internship! Right, right of course. That's- yeah, I didn't except to be hearing back so... soon!" I mumbled, trying my best to follow along.

"Yeah! Well, you know me, always on top of things!" he exclaimed over exaggeratedly. May still had a look of amazement rather than disbelief.

"Tony- erm, Mr. Stark, this all must be a huge deal, right? I mean, you did come all the way out here yourself," May questioned, now settling her eyes on him.

"Haha, yes, you're right!" he said, fiddling with his gold watch. "I mean, I do quite like the attention."

"The attention, right..." May seemed unimpressed. She had always been wary of celebrities, constantly lecturing me to not compare myself to them or idolize them. I nearly facepalmed at Tony's lame excuse.

"Peter! How about-" he turned his attention to me and then back to May. "Can I have a few minutes with him?"

May looked at me as though for approval, and I nodded shortly. "Sure, go ahead. I'll wait here," she said to Tony. He smiled politely in return. I walked to my bedroom, glancing behind to make sure that he was following.

A moment later, I was sat on my bed fidgeting with my hands nervously. Tony closed the bedroom door behind him and proceeded to lean back against it. He stared at me for some time, as though desperately trying to read me, all the while allowing me more and more time with my thoughts. I had just nearly gotten arrested, and now Tony Stark was in my bedroom after he came to my rescue out of no where? More importantly, I was stressing over how much he had told May. She clearly didn't know, but Tony hadn't exactly been inconspicuous, either.

"Parker," he began, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You're welcome." I considered firing back some unknowing comment, denying any sort of affiliation with a certain arachnid hometown hero whom he had just saved, but figured that that would only complicate things.

"How did you find me? Why- why are you here?" I stuttered.

"I've sorta been keeping tabs on you. Actually, I have been. I mean, how else was I supposed to know whether you actually went home when I asked?"

"So, you've been spying-" I began, but was cut off.

"Ah-ah, I wouldn't call it spying. More like looking over, or reading up on." My eyes widened. If he knew that I was Spider-Man, what else did he know? "Who knows?" I started to answer, but he continued. "And don't try to play dumb with me. I know more than you think."

Well shit. My binder practically tightened around my chest at that point. I admitted that I had been wearing it much too often lately, but I only truly regretted it in this moment. Breaths came slowly and with much struggle, but I tried to play it off. Nerves, right? He would understand that.

"Nobody, sir. Nobody knows. And I would like to keep it that way," I warned. "Not even May. She would kill me!"

"And I wouldn't?" Tony asked, now throwing on a rather serious face. I couldn't keep up with this guys humor. "You have some serious skills, man. I've seen you on YouTube. Spider-Man, is it?"

I nodded weakly, hating that I was admitting to being Spider-Man while I was being seen as Peter Parker. I hated the two being linked, even in the eyes of Tony Stark, apparently.

"What do you say, homeboy?" he asked suddenly, his tone going from interrogative to that of a boy asking his friend over for the first time.

I was utterly confused. "You didn't actually propose anything for me to agree to, you know."

"You're right, my bad, I'm not quite used to recruiting. Would you like to join me and the gang at Avengers Tower for the weekend?" he clarified, and then rushed on, as though he was worried I might say no. "Well, I told the cops you were with me, so... otherwise I could just hand you back over to the cops, no questions asked."

I couldn't tell if that last part was meant to be a joke or not, or whether this all was rhetorical. I wanted to trust Tony Stark, but at the same time I was afraid of what he would say if I said no. Don't get me wrong, this was the greatest deal I'd ever received. The Avengers, man, that was the dream. There was nothing that I wanted more. But then there was the crushing thought that I probably wasn't what they were expecting. Sure, a fifteen year old kid was not ideal, but I would age. What I was talking about was being trans. What if they didn't accept me? What if they found out how dangerous it was for me to be running around for hours on end in a binder? What if they thought I was a freak?

"It's a Wednesday night, Mr. Stark. I've got school tomorrow, a big math test..." I said, and though it wasn't exactly a lie I still earned a very confused glance from the man. "I can't ace it if I'm not there to take it."

Though puzzled, he still looked very determined. "Then you'll take it. A car will pick you up when you finish your test."

We discussed the terms of the meeting tomorrow, and it was arranged that a driver would be sent to the school at precisely 2:40, the time the school let out. I was informed that I would know which car it was, and that I wasn't to be late. Tony left quickly after that, insisting that he had some things to get ready. I realized that he had avoided telling me what this all might entail. Was it some sort of an initiation, or was I just to feed them information about myself and endure tests? I couldn't help but fear what I had gotten myself into.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

"Alright cut the crap, Peter, what's going on with you? Why do you seem so jittery?" Ned inquired in tone so determined yet so quiet that I wasn't sure MJ could even hear from where they sat a few feet away. In response, I simply stared down at my hands, fidgeting with them constantly so that Ned couldn't tell that they were shaking. "I'm serious, dude. I'm worried about you."

It was the end of the day, and the three of us were all sat in the library like we usually did, either picking at homework or joking about something that had happened during our lunch period. However, today was different. Today I was going to finally get to work with Tony Stark. Tony-fucking-Iron Man-fucking-Stark. The man I had grown up watching on all the "breaking news" coverage, watching him battle aliens and robots, the man I strived to be was on his way to see me at this very moment.

l felt a poke in my side suddenly and jerked around to see MJ kneeling there, looking at me expectantly. I hadn't even seen them move over to me in my daze.

"I, uh, I have a meeting with Tony Stark today," I said simply, still staring off into no where. My stomach was doing flips, and it definitely wasn't because I had skipped lunch.

"Stark? Tony Stark? As in, Stark Industries? The Avengers?" Ned practically squealed.

"Damn, Parker. I knew you were smart, but... Damn!" MJ said. They tended to show emotion much less than Ned, so I took pride in the fact that their eyes were nearly bugging out of their head.

"Y-yeah," I mumbled. "I, uh, he wants to hook me up with an internship."

Ned exclaimed something else then, but I wasn't around to hear it as the bell finally rang. I yanked my backpack onto one shoulder, leapt over the table, and sprinted towards the exit, ignoring the librarian's complaints behind me. Tony Stark, Tony Stark, Tony Stark, my head kept chanting.

The second I made it out of the building, I knew exactly where I was heading. Tony had said that I would know the car when I saw it, and I sure did. The slick black vehicle appeared as though it could keep all 43 presidents safely inside during a nuclear attack. A man was standing outside of it, dressed in a suit with rather intimidating sunglasses. I was no longer running, but instead cautiously walked towards the sight. By now, other students were bustling out of the school, and I began walking between them only to see that the important looking man's eyes were on me. Somehow. I don't know how I could tell with the sunglasses, but he was watching my every move.

What if he was actual sent by the FBI to arrest me? What if this was all just some prank? What if he was an evil villain who murdered Tony Stark on the way over here and was now going after me? What if-

"Mr. Parker," a voice greeted me. I looked up suddenly to see that I had stopped about ten feet away from the vehicle. The man had lowered his sunglasses to stare at me, and all I could do was stare back with fear. "My name is Happy Hogan. Now, are you going to get in the car or not?" He was standing, rather annoyed, holding the back door of the car open to me.

I glanced behind me, as if second guessing that he was really talking to me of all people, only to find a few passer-byers glancing our way curiously.

"Yes, you. Now, get in the car. People are staring," he slipped his sunnies back on, and I quickly stepped forward, carefully sliding onto the clean leather seats of the back of the car. I was met with the cool rush on the AC, and nearly jumped when the door next to me closed once more.

He took his seat behind the wheel and in a matter of seconds, we were in action. I stared back at the school through the no-doubt tinted windows until it was out of sight, and then turned back to Happy. "So, where's Mr. Stark?"

He laughed coldly at that. "He's at the tower, where else?" Happy flicked his eyes at me in the mirror above his head. "What, you didn't actually think he would come all the way down here again, did you?"

"I mean, I was sorta hoping he would just fly his suit in and whisk me away," I said, only half joking.

"Tony does like the attention, but he gets enough publicity these days. He's got more important things to do," Happy said flatly. I had to admit, that last part saddened me a bit. But part of me was relieved when Happy rolled up the barrier separating the front section of the car from the back, leaving me all alone. I had no idea what Mr. Stark knew about me being trans, or if he would care. Regardless, I wasn't going to say a word. It would be better that way, without him knowing.

-

I dozed off a bit in the car, and before I knew it Happy had opened up my door and allowed all of the sunlight to pool in. I rubbed at my eyes groggily and slumped out of the vehicle, before becoming hyper-aware of my surroundings. Anxiously, I began looking everywhere for any sight of the fresh-faced billionaire or his famous friends.

"It's this way," Happy grumbled, obviously unenthused by my nerves.

"Why do they call you Happy, anyway?" I inquired, having to jog to keep up with him as he led me inside an incredibly tall set of double doors, and then into a marble-dipped room into an elevator, and through a hallway and then another.

He stopped outside of a final door and turned to me. "There's absolutely no crime fighting while you're here, got that? And, I'm not your babysitter. Neither is Tony. You need something, you get it yourself. Stay indoors, do what you're told, and don't blow this." He didn't even wait for a reaction, just knocked quickly on the door and then turned on his heels and left. I waited for a moment, and then two, and then three, until finally the knob twisted and the door opened.

"Spidey!" Tony greeted loudly, stepping aside to let me in. My face flushed immediately, and then I remembered that everyone here would probably know I was Spider-Man no matter what I wanted, and that my cover wouldn't be blown here. I had greater identity problems to deal with.

Once again, Mr. Stark donned a rather clean-cut suit, this time cream colored. For some reason, I had expected him to appear in some sort of two-piece burgundy sweat suit, at least in the comfort of his own home.

"Hi, hi Mr. Stark, it's nice to see you again," I squeaked out, taking in all of the lavish furnishings of the room.

"Step one of your training," he began immediately, "is that you need to be less uptight. Less formal. Y'know, just act like we're... two bros." He patted me forcefully on the back, to which I winced immediately. I could only imagine him feeling the binder beneath all of my layered shirts and kicking me out.

"Bros," I repeated, nodding in both agreement and confusion. This was already weird.

"You can drop your bag right about... there." He pointed to a random spot on the ground a few feet behind me, and I hesitantly complied. "Don't worry about it. Someone will get that later. That's how things work around here, you know?"

Once again, I found myself nodding cluelessly at his words. Ease up, Peter, everything's gonna be fine.

"You can speak to me, you know. I might be a genius but it's nothing you haven't seen before," he winked, chuckling at my paled reaction. He walked over to a shelf behind us, popped open a bottle of some liquid that I couldn't identify but that was no doubt liquor, and poured it into a glass. Then, he picked it up and walked easily over to a set of couches by the stairs in the center of the room. I nervously followed and sat down near him, assuming that's what I was supposed to do.

"So, Spider-Man, it is? We haven't gotten to properly chat yet," he said. "Tell me your story."

I cleared my throat anxiously, worried that I might let something slip that I wasn't supposed to. "Well, I moved in with my Aunt May when I was-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know all of that. I do background checks on all my people, so you can skip to, perhaps, the part where you gain these super-bug powers or something?" he said carelessly.

"A spider isn't a bug," I coughed out, trying to pretend he didn't just say he knew everything about my past. If he knew I was trans, he would certainly have said something, yes? "I was, uh, there was a, uh, radioactive spider? And it bit me, because, well, I ran into the web or something. It was a weird day. Anyway, I got this huge lump. Nasty thing, really, and then all of a sudden I have these abilities. I don't need glasses, I can hear extraordinarily well, I can stick to walls and stuff." I went on, telling him about everything, trying desperately to distract myself from my previous realization.

He raised on eyebrow, staring at me as though he were trying to read my mind. He did that a lot, actually, and it was starting to get quite intimidating. "So May doesn't know, your friends don't know. How are you holding up? Are you taking care of yourself?" This was beginning to feel more and more like a therapy session, and my heart was beating out of my chest.

There was no way that I could tell him that my ribs were often bruised because I always wore my binder under the suit, or that I suspected that my hormones were completely unbalanced now with the spider DNA inside of me. "Y-yeah," I managed. "All good other than that run-in with the cops yesterday," I joked.

"Once you're on my side, that all will get a lot easier," he said, understanding.

"Your side, like the Avengers," I blurted out, instantly regretting it. The Avengers were way above me, I mean come on they had an actual god among them!

"Not so fast, Mister," he said, rather scoldingly, but then followed it up with, "However, they're all waiting upstairs for us as we speak." He watched for my reaction, which was a mix of me covering up my fear with excitement and actual excitement. "C'mon, you've waited long enough. Let's go meet them," Tony said as he stood up and began walking to the stairs, drink in hand.

I was finally going to be an avenger, and I wasn't going to let my fear of them finding out my greatest secret stop me. The only thing that might stop me was if they needed May's permission, but that was a problem for another day.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I don't know what I expected to see when I walked into the room where the Avengers were waiting. Actually, I know exactly what I expected to see: Thor would be polishing his hammer, Captain America would be reading an American history book, Black Widow would be hacking a computer, Hawkeye would be shooting at a target...

But no, that's not what I saw at all. Instead, Steve Rogers was showing a very confused Thor how to use the blender. The brilliant scientist Bruce Banner was sitting on the couch reading a book, and Natasha Romanoff was laying down with her legs across his lap, scrolling on her phone. On the other couch, a younger looking girl with reddish hair was sitting, also on her phone. They all looked rather unimpressive, I had to admit. They were all dressed in plain clothes, including the Asgardian, and didn't appear to be doing any, y'know, avenging.

"Peter!" Steve exclaimed as I walked into the area. Captain America knew me name? He came right up to me and held out his hand, which I meekly accepted. He was definitely much taller than I expected, and towered over me, not to mention his impressive shoulder to waist ratio. Damn.

"Mr. Rogers, Captain, Mr. Amer-" I began rambling, not wanting to disrespect him and he's goddamn beautiful face.

"It's just Steve, call me Steve."

"Okay, Steve," I said quietly. He smiled down at me. All of a sudden a noise erupted from the kitchen, where he had no doubt just left Thor unsupervised with the blender.

"Sorry! Sorry, just a little mishap! Won't happen again, everything's already!" Thor's booming accent came, and we all watched in horror as he looked over at us, the contents of the blender now all over his face and shirt. Still, he wore a very genuine grin as he swiftly removed his shirt and began mopping up the surface of the counter. If I had thought Steve's body was worth admiring, I was completely wrong. I had to look away quickly so that I wouldn't be caught staring in awe.

"Fuck, Thor, this is why we can't have nice things!" Tony snapped jokingly.

"Language, Tony!" Steve scolded, this time in all seriousness. Then, he quickly shooed Thor from the kitchen, herding him through a door like he was a little child.

Tony laughed to himself, before leading me over to the sitting area. I only recognized Natasha, having seen her on TV a handful of times, but not the other two.

"That's Nat, she's like an assassin. Then there's Bruce, he's the big green one but he doesn't like to talk about it, and that's Wanda over there. She can control stuff with her mind," Tony explained briefly. Bruce didn't look anything like the Hulk, which made me confused yet also very grateful. He held out his hand for me to shake, still in a more casual manner than Steve had done. The girl, Wanda, appeared young and shy, and watched me timidly as though she didn't want to be seen. I gave her a tiny wave which she mimicked with little enthusiasm.

"Mr. Stark, your delivery will be here in approximately five minutes," a voice came suddenly. I began looking around the room, but came up empty handed when it came to the source of the sound.

"Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S., I'll send someone down," Tony said automatically, before seeing my confused face. "That's J.A.R.V.I.S., my AI. He keeps everyone in check around here."

"Oh," I breathed, acting like that was totally normal.

"Yo Cap! Will you go pick it up downstairs?" Tony called to Steve as he reentered the room. "Wouldn't want to let Thor do that again. Last time he tried tipping in Asgardian coins, and got away with it."

"Roger that," Steve said, and exited the room as quickly as he had entered.

"What's, uh, what's the delivery? Is it some new parts for some cool project you're working on?" I asked, before scolding myself. He probably didn't want me all up in his business asking questions, it was bad enough that I was even here.

"No. It's pizza," he said, eyeing me strangely. "C'mon, follow me. I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."

Tony walked through the same door Cap had just come out of, and I followed not far behind. However, when I rounded the corner into the hallway, I bumped right into the still half-naked Thor. Great.

"Sorry. Sorry, sir, Thor," I mumbled, quickly trying to step out of his way. Instead, he stopped me.

"You're Peter! Hello, Peter, it's lovely to meet you! I apologize, I would've introduced myself before except I was having an unfortunate battle with one of Stark's latest technologies. You know, I haven't yet gotten to meet many Migardian children! You're quite small, aren't you?" he greeted me with a cheeky smile.

I tried my best to ignore the fact that his pecs were inches from my face, right about eye level, as well as the fact that he had called me small. "Uh, yes! That's me, I'm Peter, Spider-Man, the new guy," I replied. Just as I was debating between giving him a handshake or bowing before his royal highness, he pulled me into a tight hug. I could literally feel every muscle of his chest against me, and all I couldn't think about was whether he could feel mine. Sure, binders made quite the difference, but it wasn't the same as it would be once I'd had top surgery, which I planned to get as soon as I saved up the money. It was going to be a long wait, and until then I tried to avoid such tight hugs as this one. Seriously, he wasn't letting go.

"Thor, let the kid go!" Tony exclaimed finally, placing a hand on my shoulder and pulling me away from the stronger avenger.

"Goodbye, young Peter," Thor called, but we were already down the hall.

I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding as he stopped in front of a room, pushing the door open. Inside, the room was quite large, with light wood floor and white and navy blue furniture. It was set up much like a hotel room, with a huge bed, a dresser with more drawers than I could ever wish to fill, a desk, a couch, and a television set. The far wall was all glass, with curtains hanging open, and I guessed that two doors on the left side of the room led to a closet and bathroom. That was a huge relief.

"Well, I'll leave you to get washed up. We'll call you for dinner, just ask J.A.R.V.I.S. if you need anything." And with that he was gone, leaving me all alone in the room.

I sighed heavily, dropping onto the bed. I hadn't realized how tense I'd been in the last few minutes, but it was surely taking all of the energy out of me. My mind wandered to Mr. Stark's question earlier: "Are you taking care of yourself?" In all honesty, I was terrified of lying to him. But at the same time, I figured it would be for the best. There was no reason why he would need to know such a personal thing about me. It would only make him worry more, and he seemed to already have a nervous eye out for me. It would be just like admitting my superhero identity to Aunt May; completely unnecessary and catastrophic. Not going to happen.

I made sure that the door was locked before wrestling out of my binder, trying to at least get a few minutes of freedom before dinner. I had no idea what was in store for the rest of the weekend, but I was going to have to be prepared for whatever was thrown my way. After all, that's what superheroes do.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I thought I was having a panic attack. I had taken off my binder, but that wasn't making breathing any easier. It had been less than fifteen minutes since I'd arrived, and already I didn't think I could bear going back out there. I was going to somehow manage to mess everything up, and all of the Avengers were going to hate me. I squeezed my eyes shut, overwhelmed by my impending doom.

"Hey Peter?" a knock came on the door. Before I even had a chance to reply, the door slowly crept open, a certain tall blonde appearing from behind it. I hated people who did that.

Immediately, I crossed my arms over my chest, where the only other thing stopping my secret from coming out was a thin black t-shirt. "Steve, uh, hey man, what's up?" I said nervously, biting my lip as I tried to act as casual as I could.

"Tony wanted me to tell you that dinner is ready, so you can come join us as soon as you're ready," the blonde man said with a winning smile.

I nodded quickly in reply, adding, "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute."

He turned to leave and I let out the breath I had been holding in, but he stopped before he got all the way out and looked back at me. I anxiously raised my eyebrows at him, wanting him to just leave.

"Don't let the big shots out there intimidate you," he said, motioning to the hallway. "You deserve to be here just as much as the rest of us, and I think you're gonna do just fine."

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself. "Thank you, Captain, really. It means a lot." My voice wavered slightly as though it were stuck in my chest.

"No problem, kid," he nodded and finally left, shutting the door behind him.

I stood up and made sure to face away from the door as I pulled off my t shirt and struggled into my binder, just in case someone happened to come in and check on me again at that very moment. Then, I shrugged on my t shirt again, as well as a long sleeved-shirt over that. Finally, I pulled on a zip-up hoodie and a denim jacket, and checked in the mirror to make sure that I truly did look flat. I didn't let myself stare for too long, however, because then any sense of security I had built around myself would surely begin to unravel.

Instead, I hunched my shoulders forward slightly and left to go find the dining room, following the sounds of laughter.

-

At dinner, I sat at the edge of one side, with Tony at the head of the table next to me. Steve was across from me, and Natasha sat next to me on the other side. Everyone else sat further down at the table, including Bruce, Thor, and Wanda.

It wasn't as terribly awkward as I had feared it would be, and though I hardly touched my plate I was beginning to feel a bit more welcomed. Nobody asked questions about the fact that my transportation of choice was spider webs, or that I cling to the ceiling with ease. Instead, they egged into my personal life. They asked me what I liked to do for fun, and what classes I was taking at school, and how my Aunt May was doing. It almost felt like a family dinner instead of some sort of interrogation.

Unfortunately for me, the interrogation would come later, away from Thor's bone crushing hugs and Steve's sympathetic smiles.

After everyone finished eating, Tony beckoned for me to follow him down a flight of stairs and into what I assumed was his main workshop. Countless work benches were covered in various tools and half-finished projects. To my surprise, one of the many robots whirred to life as soon as we entered.

"Go to sleep, Dum-E. I don't need you for this, remember?" Tony said, sounding much like a very tired father. The machine hummed a sad pitch before it shut off once more.

Once my eyes had swept over the whole room, they landed on Tony who was staring at me expectantly as if saying, "You like?"

"Wow," was all I managed, as I caught sight of a handful of his Marks along one wall. Some of them were models I had never even seen before.

"If you're lucky, maybe I can show you some of the projects I'm working on later," he said as he walked over to one of the tables. I nodded eagerly, catching a smile from him. To my surprise, he grabbed a bright yellow tape measurer and then turned to face me. "I need to take some measurements if you don't mind. It's for your new suit."

If you don't mind. What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry sir, I'm actually very consciously trying to hide my body at the moment, so I would appreciate it if you wouldn't try to analyze it.'

"Yeah, sure," I said meekly, my voice cracking slightly. He took a step towards me, threading out the material with his fingers.

He frowned suddenly. "Could you, uh, maybe take off your jacket?"

My mouth fell open, but I knew that protesting would only draw attention, so I slowly removed my jacket. Still feeling his disapproving gaze on me, I also took off my sweatshirt. I prayed silently that he wouldn't notice the t shirt under my long sleeves, or the binder under that.

Instead, he took a final step towards me and delicately held the tape measurer out to my measure the length of my shoulders. He wrote down the number on a pad of paper.

"So, I understand that you switched from public school to a technical high school," he said as he worked.

"Uh, yeah, I like science," I blurted out, fearing that he was alluding to him knowing I was trans. I had, after all, switched schools to avoid the awkwardness of coming out.

He laughed lightly at that. "I figured as much. Is that where you're getting all of your webbing and such? Or does that stuff shoot out of you? How many parts spider are you exactly?" I let out a breath of relief. Finally, some questions I knew I could answer.

I began talking about everything that had happened, using it as a distraction as he measured my chest, my waist, my hips, all areas of my body that I hated.

Finally, he finished, commenting that I had a 'fascinated physique', which he assumedly chalked up to my spider-like abilities, yet I knew it was something else entirely.

"Have a seat," he said, motioning to a leather couch by one end of the room. I nodded, following him to it. I was just about to sit down when he said, "I ran a background check on you." Those words alone were enough for my knees to give in, and I was grateful to find the couch beneath me when I fell. Tony seemed not to notice, adding, "Nothing to be worried about, I just like to know what I'm getting myself into."

I grabbed my left shoulder with my right hand suddenly, a habit I had fallen into in a constant attempt to hide my chest.

"I understand that you've been living with your aunt since you were seven," he continued, but didn't elaborate much on that statement, which I was grateful for. I didn't think I could handle talking about how it had become just May and I right now. "You patrol on the regular, I mean there's tons of footage of you out there just from the past week alone. Yet somehow, your grades are spotless. That's the big picture, isn't it?"

I gulped. I couldn't lie to Tony, but at the same time I had to. "Yep, that- that sounds about right." I hated my voice for always sounding so high when I was nervous.

Tony was studying my face now, as though he knew something that I didn't. Or perhaps I was exaggerating the situation, and was just paranoid for no reason.

"Peter, do you see a therapist?" he asked finally.

"What? Me, see a therapist? No, I don't," I blurted out. I left out the part about how I had seen a gender therapist up until a few weeks ago when I had convinced May that I didn't need to go anymore. I had always hated it, and when I got my powers I was afraid that my therapist would put the pieces together. Besides, I was only really in therapy in the first place so that I could get on hormones. My top surgery was going to require a therapist letter as well, but we wouldn't have money for that anytime soon so that wasn't even a concern at this point.

"You know, most of us Avengers do. It comes with the job, what with all the stress, and everything..." Tony trailed off. I understood why they would need therapy, since they were fighting aliens and nazis and all, but all I was doing was stopping petty crimes. The Avengers and I were incomparable.

"Really, Mr. Stark, I don't need it. I don't do half the stuff that you guys do. Besides, what would I tell May?" I said.

"Don't worry about that, I'll talk to May. Lots of kids your age talk to someone, and it wouldn't be a reach with all that you've been through even before all of this spider stuff." My eyes widened at his words, until he continued. "You're an incredibly busy boy, and with everything that's happened with your family..."

Understanding that he was referring to my parents and Ben, my heart rate slowed a bit. He did have a point, but I couldn't let him talk to May. It had been incredibly hard for me to convince her to let me stop going in the first place, and I knew that she would just eat it up if Tony so much as mentioned the possibility to her. "Mr. Stark, thank you for the offer, but that would really be a waste of time. I don't need it. If something comes up, I'll get help, but you really don't need to worry May with all of this," I pleaded.

Tony sighed, looking at me sadly. I knew he had only been trying to help, but he didn't know what he was getting into. "Let me know, kid," he said sincerely. My heart ached because I knew that I had to keep lying to him, despite everything that he had done for me.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

The rest of the weekend passed without incident. I worked in the shop with Tony and Bruce, and Tony gave me some equipment to take home, as he had seen how ratty my current set up was. Both nights, I went out patrolling with Natasha. We didn't see any bad guys, and even if we did I'm sure Tony would've stopped me from having anything to do with it. There was a strange bond between us all, and my secrets were only getting in the way of it all. It was as if we all had found a sense of distrust in each other. It didn't help that I didn't even know why they had brought me there.

Just as much as I was trying to pick the Avengers apart, I felt Tony analyzing me up until the very last second. We were both sat in the back of the car as Happy drove back towards my apartment a few days later.

"Kid, you know you can talk to me about anything. Well not quite anything. Okay wait, that sounds bad, I take it back. You can talk to me about anything, I just meant more specifically, like, yknow, superhero stuff," Tony rambled awkwardly as we drove, sounding like an ill-prepared father.

I nodded encouragingly, trying to make this less uncomfortable. "Yes, Mr. Stark, thank you. If anything comes up, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Like, if anything comes up. I wanna hear about it." Tony eyed me as though suspiciously, and I felt caught in his gaze. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this type of stuff. My father never really was, so I'm not exactly role model material," he trailed off.

My mouth was dry. I was almost positive that Mr. Stark was alluding to something, but felt too awkward bringing it up. I knew that I should just come right out and say it, and stop lying, but that wasn't going to happen. Instead, I continued to nod curtly.

The car came to a halt suddenly, and a quick look out the window told me that we had arrived at my building. Tony signaled to Happy to give us a few more minutes, and then he turned to me.

"I know that you can't go to May about any of this stuff, so how about you come back to the tower and stay with us again once school gets out. You can just come for a few weeks, I'll take care of everything. You can train with some of the other guys and we'll do a full assessment of your abilities." At this point, I was staring up at him awestruck. It all sounded too good to be true. I thought that this had been a one and done, but here I was being told that I was going to train with the Avengers?

"Yes, Mr. Stark, I would love that!" I grinned.

"Great, I'll make arrangements. Oh, and if it's alright with you I would like to bring in a doctor to examine you. It's very important, and he'll be one of my own. All confidential, May doesn't need to know."

With that, my smile faltered slightly. I knew that refusing would seem suspicious, and it would only make Tony even more curious as to what the assessment revealed. And so, I agreed. "Of course, Mr. Stark, I understand."

We said our goodbyes, and I trudged upstairs, back into the tiny apartment where May was no doubt waiting to hear about every second of the weekend. She engulfed me in a tight hug, obviously not used to me being away for more than a night or two at a time, and even then it was almost always at Ned's. When she pulled away, there was worry thick in her eyes.

"How did it go? Was it alright? Was anybody mean to you?"

I shot down her questions like usual, assuring her that I was fine. "In fact," I added, "they've asked me to come back in the summer. It's this retreat thing, with some other kids. It'll just be for a few weeks, and it'll look great on my resume later on."

Of course, May was ecstatic. This was a huge deal for her, with who she thought was her ordinary little boy getting suddenly having such huge opportunities placed in front of him.

"Peter, I want you to be careful. I don't want you getting hurt over there." I winced at that, not wanting her to see that I feared the exact same.

"May, it's really not that bad. I'm sure everyone's cool with-"

"I really think that I should call Mr. Stark and talk to him directly. Yknow, since you're going to be spending so much time over there. I would feel better if he knew. Or someone, at the very least."

"I can handle that. I'll speak to him when I go, I'm sure it'll all be fine," I reassured her.

"I know, baby, it's just scary for me. I don't want you to enter this world any less capable than any other boy your age."

Little did she know how not normal I really was. Instead, I told her that I was exhausted and went straight to bed, but I didn't sleep for hours. The Avengers were never going to see me the same. There was really no reason to tell them. Sure, I could talk to that doctor who I was going to have to see, but that didn't mean Tony or the others had to know. If I could hide Spider-Man from May, then surely I could hide the first thirteen years of my existence from a billionaire techie whose best friends were spies, right? Or perhaps not. All I knew was that I had a few weeks to get myself in check before I faced my ultimate doom.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

And so my life resumed. As abnormal as it all was, it was routine to me.

I woke up by 6:00 every morning, either to an alarm set to the lowest volume, or to the wailing of the sun shining through my window even earlier. Sometimes I hated my enhanced senses.

I got ready for the day in just enough time to catch the subway into school, and then I would meet up with Ned and MJ. Until quarter-to-three I was subject to droning lectures and crowded hallways, until at last I got to put on my suit. That was when I was happiest, when I was able to be in the spotlight without ever truly being seen. It was like controlling a character in a video game. It didn't really matter who I was, it just mattered who he was - who Spider-Man was. At least that's what it was to everyone else.

After a few hours I returned home and had dinner with May, and then I would work into the dark hours of the night on whatever research papers or textbook readings I had been assigned that day. On Tuesdays, I had the added stress of my testosterone shot. Though May always offered to help, I insisted on doing it myself.

Today was just like every other.

Aunt May was working the late shift again so I patrolled for a little longer than usual, watching as the children scurried home for curfew, giving way to the thrill seekers of the night life.

Finally, I let out a yawn, exhausted from the week of late nights and early mornings. I lazily tugged off my mask as I leapt from one building top to the next. Fishing my phone out of my backpack, I quickly pressed the first speed dial number, anticipating the only voice I wanted to here.

"Joe's Pizza, what can I get for you?"

"Hi, yeah, can I get two large cheese pizzas?"

When I reached my apartment building at last, I stealthily slipped through the window and shut it behind me, still wearing my Spider-Man costume. I automatically did so without making a single sound, since I was so used to May being in the other room.

I checked the time on my phone as I remained clinging to the wall in my bedroom. Joe's 29 minute guarantee meant that the delivery person would be here in a few minutes. I dropped my backpack to the ground and spun around towards my closet to find a change of clothes, only to come face to face with MJ.

"MJ! Hey! What's- what's up?" I asked in a rush of words, hastily beginning to remove the garments that made up my suit as though it wasn't already too late to hide it.

They raised their eyebrows, saying, "You- you were just on the ceiling." It was clear that they were in shock, but it appeared to be less due to the realization that I was Spider-Man and more due to the fact that I was attempting to deny it.

"Oh hey, cool costume dude." Both of us turned with anticipation to see Ned walking through the doorway.

"Th- thanks?" I replied, as he simply smiled.

The doorbell rang then, and Ned called out, "I'll get it!" before leaving the room as quickly as he had entered.

MJ stared after him with a dumbfounded look. "Did he really just-"

"Yeah, he really just," I replied, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

"Stupid ass motherfucker..." MJ sighed, before facing me again. Their expression clearly read Why do I even hang out with these two idiots?

"MJ, I can explain. It's not- I'm not- I mean, well, I am, but-" I started, but was soon interrupted.

"PIZZA TIME!" Ned shouted across the small apartment.

My stomach growled suddenly, and I grinned at the thought of food. MJ caught my now bare arm as I began to leap out of the room.

"Don't think we're done talking about this," they warned. "Oh, and you should put on some clothes."

I had never changed so fast as I did that night, and I can tell you that it was absolutely because I was ready to devour some pizza.

In the kitchen, I piled three slices onto my plate and leapt onto the couch beside my two best friends who were arguing over what to watch on Netflix.

"I'll be honest, I didn't realize you guys were coming over tonight," I said finally.

"Oh, we weren't planning this. You weren't answering your phone, so we came over to check on you," MJ started.

"Yeah. And then you didn't answer, and we didn't feel like going back to my place, so we just let ourselves in. Oh, and you're out of milk," Ned finished.

"Glad to know I can always count on you guys to break into my house and drink all of my milk!" I said, laughing.

"Is nobody going to talk about the fact that Peter ordered two large pizzas just for himself?" MJ cut in, just as I began to stuff my face with food.

"Is that a challenge, MJ? 'Cos I'm totally capable of that. I am a growing boy, you know," I said, adding, "and I'm freaking starving."

It's safe to say that I ate enough pizza to feed an army that night, so much so that I feared I wouldn't fit into my Spider-Man suit that entire weekend. I made a mental note to challenge the Avengers to a food eating contest later on, just maybe on a day when the Hulk was out of town.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

"So, you're thinking of running for class office."

My ears perked up at the familiar character on the screen. It was Captain "you can call me Steve" Rogers, though he was much more dolled up on camera than when I had met him. I had no idea why it was his job to inform a homeroom class of bored freshmen about the importance of running for student government, but to each their own.

"So what, is he like your mentor or something?" MJ asked from beside me.

I quickly shushed them and laughed it off, embarrassed. I had sworn myself to such secrecy about my whole "double life", so talking about it was not something I was very used to yet.

"No," I muttered under my breath, still petrified that someone would overhear our conversation. "If anyone's my mentor it's Mr. Stark."

MJ snickered at that. "Okay, that's gotta be, like, the cheesiest thing you've ever said."

"No, it's true!" I said, my cheeks flushing. "He's like, actually a really cool guy." They gave me a very amused look, but didn't make any snide comment at that. "Anyway, we're always talking about me. What about you? Are you doing alright?"

MJ's face became much more solemn all of a sudden. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." MJ wasn't shy, especially around Ned and I. But they surely didn't like to have any attention on them. Even when they first told us they were nonbinary, they did so in the most casual way.

"Know that what I'm about to say is at the cost of you probably making fun of me for being 'too cheesy', whatever that means; You can always talk to me. I'm always here for you, and I promise that I'll start answering my phone more often," I said sincerely, adding, "Not that I don't love you and Ned showing up unannounced at my apartment at all hours of the night."

To my surprise, MJ pulled me in for a hug. They weren't usually the initiator of hugs, so I was impressed. "You are a mystery, Peter Parker."

I laughed at that as I pulled away. "Well, you do seem to be the only one to figure me out."

"How is all that secret keeping going, anyway?" they asked.

"Well, May doesn't seem to suspect anything yet. I'm going away once school gets out to train and stuff with the Avengers," I said under my breath, once again. "But I'll still be in the city the whole time, if you need anything. I bet I could even get Iron Man to fly me over."

"Hot shot, why would he want anything to do with a kid like me, anyway?" MJ laughed.

"I thought the same before he tracked me down. He did save me from getting my ass kicked from some cops, though..." I said, too loudly apparently as Ned was sucked into the conversation at that point.

"Peter, what was that about cops?" Ned sneered. "You're like... the goodest guy I know!"

"Goodest isn't a word," MJ and I said at the same time. Luckily, Ned then became too busy feigning being offended that he forgot why he had joined the conversation.

I turned back to MJ. "Hey! We were supposed to be talking about you, not me. I don't know if you've told your parents anything yet, but if you need a binder, May will happily order one for you. I don't want you to hurt yourself. Or we could not tell May, and I could just give you one of mine! I just-"

MJ cut me off. "Peter, you're rambling again. And honestly, I'm not sure if I want one. I'll just wait and see, I guess..."

"You could try one of mine, you know, if you want to?" I was then engulfed in yet another hug, and this time Ned joined in, though he had no idea why we were hugging.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

To say that I was jumpy was an understatement.

School had just ended a few days ago, marking the end of my freshman year, and now it was finally time for me to focus on my "internship". In other words, I was going to be spending the next few weeks of my time at Avengers Tower with Mr. Stark and everyone.

"Mr. Parker," Happy greeted me as he opened the door of the vehicle to let me out. I noticed that he had gotten my suitcase out of the trunk.

"I can bring that with me, you don't have to."

"Your wish is my command," Happy said, immediately releasing his grip on the handle of the luggage as he shut the car door behind me and began walking into the building. I frowned at his eagerness to get me out of his hair. I wouldn't say that Happy was unlikable, but he definitely wasn't the most warm and fuzzy.

As I breathlessly followed Happy's tall figure through the large lobby, down a few hallways and into the elevator, I tugged helplessly at the ever-tightening binder beneath my sweatshirt. Once again, if it weren't for spider webs, this Spider-Man would be a hell of a lot less mobile. Happy left me at the door with a huff. I frowned, looking back at him, only to turn back around to Tony Stark standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Stark! Hi!" I squeaked out.

His gaze landed behind me. "Happy's just annoyed because we're going to have a full house soon. He doesn't like having to babysit us all. Don't take it personally."

"Oh, no- no I wasn't, he's fine, I-"

He laughed. "You're too forgiving, kid. You gotta expect more from people. C'mon in, I wanna show you your room." He placed a hand on my shoulder, leading me through the doorway, and I flinched at the unexpected contact and hurried inside.

I was slightly confused when he proceeded to lead me to the exact room that I had stayed in upon my last visit, until he opened the door. The once hotel-room-esque quarters had been transformed into something much more homey. What had been white walls and white sheets were now a comfortable theme of red and blue, just like my room back at the apartment. The walls were covered in old movie posters, and there was a bunk bed along one wall. In the midst of this modern mansion I was in, I was beyond relieved to have something of my own.

"Do you like it?" Tony asked from behind me.

"I love it," I breathed, still taking it all in. Grinning, I turned around and hugged him instinctively, until I remembered where I was and who he was, and then I quickly let go, blushing. "Thank you," I mumbled in embarrassment.

He only chuckled lightly. "I'll let you settle in later, but we have a busy night tonight."

I followed curtly behind him as he began walking back towards the main room. "What was that you said about having a full house?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the fact that I had just hugged him. My cheeks burned red.

Before he even had time to answer, two more slightly familiar-looking characters entered the picture. They both eyed me cautiously, and finally the one with the long brown hair spoke. "Hey... lil' G."

I squinted my eyes at the strange man, who seemed to be terribly awkward at first greetings.

"Man, that's not what I told you to say. Stop trying to be hip with the kids," the other scolded him. Then, he turned to me. "You must be Pete. Spidey-boy, or whatever. I'm sorry about Bucky here, I'm trying to teach him slang but it's apparently not sticking. Unlike you, yknow. Get it? Cos you stick to buildings? Anyway, I'm Sam. This is Bucky."

I was about to reply when I quite literally had the wind knocked out of me.

"We meet again, young Peter," I heard the booming voice of Thor as he patted me on the back (and did not hold back any of his strength).

I quickly jumped to the side, hoping to avoid another bone-crushing hug, as I didn't think my ribs could take it.

"Nice to see you, Peter," Steve said from beside Thor as he shook my hand.

The highly concentrated masculine-energy in the room began to make me feel nervous. Since I came out as trans, something about cis men was very unsettling. Especially in cases like this, where those cis men happened to be five tall, buff superheroes. Not to mention the amount of facial hair. Subconsciously, I tugged at the collar on the left side of my neck with my right hand - a habit I had taken up quite generously, as it was a very inconspicuous way to hide my chest when in public.

The group quickly struck up a conversation, which was diminished to simply the depths and dignity of their voices. I wanted to be just like them, but that seemed so out of reach. Nothing ever seemed to break through this barrier, this difference I felt between them and me.

I broke out of my funk as soon as I met the worried eyes of Steve Rogers. I threw on a quick smile before diverting my gaze.

"Tony!" another voice called. I swung my head around to see another man peering in the doorway. He was tall and pale, and I couldn't recall ever seeing him before. He was wearing a simple button down shirt and jeans, but around his neck was an odd sort of necklace, with a large almond-shaped pendant. "I'm all set, whenever you're ready."

"Perfect timing," Stark replied, glancing at me. "Peter, this is Doctor Strange. Wizard of the dark side, or something of the like." He placed his hand on my shoulder once again, ushering me towards the man. As he turned and began to walk down a hallway, we followed close behind.

"Master of the Mystic Arts," the man grumbled, not bothering to turn around.

Tony ignored him. "Oh, and don't try to touch his necklace. He doesn't like it when you do that." I nodded, wide-eyed. Even if I tried to play dumb, I knew that this was no doubt the physical assessment Tony had scheduled for me. I anxiously tugged at my sleeves, feeling terribly out of place.

We finally reached what looked like a small clinic, but was void of any people. The room we entered was small, yet full of incredibly modern looking equipment.

"Peter, you haven't said a singly word, and I'm pretty sure you can do without Mr. Know-It-All here speaking for you. Tony, if you'll leave us please," Doctor Strange said curtly.

Tony nodded. "Sure thing doc. Kid, if you need me, J.A.R.V.I.S. will send for me. I'll just be right upstairs," he said before exiting the room.

I cleared my throat as I stood awkwardly by the door. The tall wizard man was hunched over the counter, flipping through some papers. "You can go ahead and sit down right there on the exam table," he instructed.

I nodded my head, but, noting the facts that he was facing the other way and had just pointed out my silence, I opted to say, "Sure thing." I did as he said, glad he didn't see my slight struggle to get onto the table. "So, are you like, Tony Stark's official doctor or something?" I joked, hoping to interrupt the terrible quietness of the small room.

"Nope," he said plainly, before turning around. "I'm a sorcerer. And a qualified neurosurgeon, if you cared to know my qualifications for this gig."

"Oh," I mumbled, making note not to try to joke around with this guy.

"Take off your sweatshirt, but leave on your t-shirt," he said, quickly moving on. I removed my sweatshirt, along with the flannel button-up I had been wearing under it. I was relieved to just be in a t-shirt for once, since I was for no reason sweltering hot at the moment, but I couldn't help but feel exposed.

Doctor Strange hooked my arm up to the blood pressure monitor and began to ask me questions. The first few were very basic - birthday, height, weight, allergies, etc. When he asked about my medications I accidentally lied and didn't mention testosterone. Accidentally.

"You wouldn't happen to be afraid of needles, would you?" He said as he removed the god-awful thing from my arm and moved to prepare a syringe.

"Nope, I'm not too bad with those," I said, completely omitting the fact that I regularly injected myself with needles, and I wasn't a stranger to getting blood drawn either since I had to whenever my t-dose changed.

As he completed the process, Strange told me to tell him about "the spider incident". After all, that's why we were here. And so, I told him about the bite, as well as everything that unraveled directly after. Seemingly satisfied, he excused himself for a moment and left the room.

I took the opportunity to pull out my phone and check my messages. There were a handful from May already, asking if I had forgotten anything that I needed her to bring over. Opening snapchat, I saw a video from Ned and MJ, telling me good luck and making sure I knew what an utterly boring few weeks they were gonna have without me. I smiled as I thought of spending the day with them at the tower. They would love it, if Tony allowed, of course.

Before I knew it, Doctor Strange was entering the room once more. He took a seat opposite me, glancing at his files, then at me, then at his files, and finally at me.

"Peter."

"Yes?" I gulped.

"I understand that you want to keep certain parts of your identity, i.e. Spider-Man, off the radar of your friends and family. I get that, I do. But why do the same here, with us?" I knew instantly that I had been busted. Well, not quite busted, but certainly found out. He didn't appear worried or angry, just as straight-forward as any doctor is with their patient. When I didn't reply, he continued. "You can keep this away from the others, but I would appreciate if you opened up to me. I can help you."

I instantly lowered my gaze, my voice wavering as I entered into one of my famous anxious ramblings.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Strange, I really am. I just didn't want to burden Mr. Stark with it, since he's already doing so much for me. And I didn't want him or anyone to worry, or think of me differently. I know I shouldn't keep secrets but it's just in my nature and besides, I've got everything under control. May is great, she's been so helpful, I'm fine, really. I just didn't wanna complicate things and I didn't want to scare anyone and-"

"Peter."

"Uhuh?"

"I won't make you tell Tony. Though I can almost guarantee he would be completely supportive. I mean, he completely adores you."

The corners of my lips perked up slightly at that. It wasn't because he was a celebrity, or a billionaire, or a superhero, it was because I looked up to him for the good man he was.

"But you do need somebody here looking out for you, health wise and all. J.A.R.V.I.S. will have a record of this, if you ever need anything when I'm not here. Please, consider talking to Tony or one of the others. They care about you." Wow, turns out this guy does have feelings. "I can even tell them, if you want me to."

"No, Mr- Doctor Strange. It's fine, you don't have to. I'll- Just don't mention it, okay?" I squeaked out.

"My lips are sealed," he said sincerely. "I have to go run your blood samples, just to make sure everything's alright, so you can head back with the others. I'll catch you later tonight, and we can talk some more. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," I breathed, hoping down from the counter. I ripped off the cotton ball that was taped to the crook of my arm, seeing as the slight wound had already healed itself. "Thank you, Doctor Strange. Really."

"No problem, Peter."

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

"Welcome back, kid! We were just talking about you," Tony greeted me as I made my way back into the main room.

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be back here where the spotlight wasn't just on me. Well, maybe it was for now, but soon people would move on.

"Uh, that's a lie, we were actually just talking about me." I noticed another new face, sitting on the couch. He was wearing a brilliantly purple jumper and twirling a - was that an arrow? - in his right hand. Tony rolled his eyes slightly at the comment. "Clint Barton. Hawkeye." He held out his hand and I slowly approached him. When I finally went to shake it, he said "Too slow" and instead gave me a high five.

"Uh, Peter Parker. Spider-Man," I said in the same fashion that he had introduced himself.

"Hawk, are you all set up?" Mr. Stark asked.

The new man nodded. "Well, yes. But first I need coffee. Anyone else want any? Pete?"

Tony interjected. "No, he's fine. We're a bad enough influence already. Besides, Peter, I have something I want to show you."

I frowned slightly. I was almost fifteen*, I was perfectly capable of drinking a cup of coffee. As odd as it seemed to say it, Mr. Stark was almost more protective of me than May, though each of them knew only one half of my true identity.

-

There was a knock on the door of my room, and I heard Tony ask, "How does it fit? Can I come in?"

"Yeah, come in!" I shouted from where I stood in front of the mirror, examining my reflection.

I could practically smell the dollar bills on my skin ((he sounds like a hooker oops)), could practically feel the weight of however many of May's pay stubs would've been needed to pay for this, but all that I saw was the form fitting red and blue suit.

It was a complete upgrade from the mismatched sweat suit I had been parading around in before. Scratch that - this was on a whole other level. I held my arms out, admiring the sleek design.

"Mr. Stark... wow. This is amazing, I can't- wow," I breathed, as Tony stood behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. For once, I didn't flinch at his touch.

In fact, I was too in love with the suit to notice how it revealed all of the miscalculated waves in my figure. Because in that moment, as I pulled the mask down over my face, I wasn't Peter Parker. I was Spider-Man.

"How does it feel?" Tony asked, having to step to the side slightly as his height matched mine so closely that he couldn't easily peer over my head from behind.

"It feels like... like I could be a real hero for once."

He laughed at that. "From what I've seen, kid, you're already a real hero." He squeezed my shoulders and then let go, beginning to walk towards the door. "C'mon, let's give that baby a test run."

As I followed close behind, I was grateful to have the mask covering the grin that broke out on my face.

-

"Welcome to Clint Barton's fun-filled superhero showcase extravaganza, where we push your limits, to... to see what your limits are. Sorry, I'm still working on that title."

Everyone was gathered in this large warehouse-type room, and not only that, but we were all in costume. Tony had warned me earlier that the others wanted to test out my abilities, and my performance anxiety was starting to act up. Normally, I was 100% comfortable as Spider-Man, because even if I messed up, it wasn't Peter Parker. It was the super-guy in the red and blue suit. But here, everyone knew me by name. And these were no ordinary Joe's.

"We can skip past the intro if you want, Barton. Seeing as, y'know, this part isn't really necessary at all," Steve lectured, crossing his arms as he usually did when he was criticizing someone.

Clint waved his arms dramatically, dismissing the statement. "You're ruining all the fun! I'm just a bit rusty, since we don't usually get new super-kids up in here. Maybe it's just me, but I thought that was Charles Xavier's gig. But as always, the show must go on."

"What show?" I muttered quietly to Tony, who was standing next to me.

He laughed in response.

"Is something funny?" Clint barked playfully. His ego had clearly been boosted by the fact that he was now taller than us all, which was a product of his six foot mass being elevated by a couple of dictionaries.

"Sorry, did I accidentally make you super-hearing aids instead of just the regular this time?" Tony remarked, smirking.

Hawkeye rolled his eyes as he continued his spiel. "Today we will be evaluating Peter Parker, who claims to have been bitten by a radioactive spider that gave him superhuman abilities. Mr. Parker, please step forward."

I looked nervously at Tony, who's only condolences were, "He was raised as a show pony, and he's grumpy cos Kate isn't returning his calls. Don't ask."

I gulped as I shuffled toward Clint.

"First up, let's see how you fair with hand-to-hand combat. Natasha?"

I sensed the famous assassin sneaking up on me before I even saw her, and before I knew it I was launching myself onto the ceiling, staring wide-eyed down at the woman in the leather costume.

"Wait a second, you want me to fight Black Widow? Are you crazy?!" I shrieked, though part of me was giddy with childlike glee.

"Well, yes, that was the idea. But now you're on the ceiling," Clint spoke, staring back at me.

"I got this," Natasha said, as she shared a glance with Steve. Before I knew it, he was holding up his shield and she was leaping onto it, torpedoing into the air straight towards me. I let out a yelp as I dropped from my spot, releasing another web and swinging upwards again. Unfortunately, Natasha had latched onto my leg, and gravity dragged us both onto the ground. I slammed down on top of her.

"Sorry! I don't want to hurt you!" I apologized quickly, not at all used to fighting good guys. She only smirked as she took the opportunity to latch her arms around my waist, flipping us over so that she was straddling me.

With my legs free, I created momentum enough to do a back flip off of the ground, which she clearly wasn't expecting. In a swift movement, I webbed her to the ground at her torso.

My spider-sense alerted me of danger behind me, and sure enough, as soon as I turned around I was dodging arrows coming from up above.

"What the heck, man!" I shouted up at Clint. I managed to catch hold of one as it was flying past, an inch from my head. "Hey, these are just Nerf arrows. That's not very superhero of you!"

Clint laughed, climbing over the edge of the loft and dropping down to the ground as he began walking towards me.

I braced myself, taking a defense stance. "Woah there, are we done? Or are we still fighting? Cos I- I won't hesitate to take you down, you know that?" I said, half fibbing.

He laughed. "Just about. I almost forgot one thing!"

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Truck!" he called out nonchalantly as he pressed a button on a remote.

"Wha-" I started, before looking up to see nothing other than a large semi falling through the ceiling. You've got to be kidding me.

I took a deep breath and managed to catch it roughly, holding it up in two hands as I steadied myself.

"Really, Barton? A truck? You could've squashed the poor kid!" Tony said, but I could hear the laughter he was fighting down.

The others looked on with awe.

"You're no joke, kid," Steve applauded.

"Thanks," I grunted. "What, uh, what should I do with this?" I asked aimlessly, glancing up at the weight bearing down on me.

"Uh, just set it down over there. I'll take care of that later. Clint didn't exactly tell me he was planning on dropping a !truck! on you. Besides, Clint, how did you even know he would be able to lift that?" Tony muttered

Clint only laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck, earning a glare from Tony. As I was told, I carefully placed the truck down behind me. I yanked the mask off of my head and ran a hand through my hair, adrenaline racing through my veins.

Across the floor, Natasha was still squirming on the ground. "Hey guys? A little help here?"

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

I rubbed subconsciously at my ribs, which were slightly sore from experiencing the wrath of freaking Black Widow's thighs. We had all changed back into our plainclothes after whatever the hell that had been, and now I was back in Doctor Strange's office, awaiting the results of the blood test. I was in basketball shorts and my usual layered shirts, though the whole building seemed uncomfortably warm.

"So Peter, tell me about your transition so far," he said.

"Well, I came out when I was 12, and May was really cool about it from the start. May's my aunt, by the way. I live with her. Anyway I didn't come out at school, though, I just switched to a new high school and started all over. And then I was able to start testosterone when I turned 14."

He nodded his head as he jotted down a few notes on a clipboard. "And your friends, do they know?"

"Yeah, yeah they do, and they're great. One of them is actually nonbinary, which is cool. And then Ned is my token cis friend, and he's been here through all of this, so he's been really helpful." I smiled softly, realizing how much I already missed them.

"So you have a good relationship with them? Do you feel like you could talk to them if you needed anything?"

"Gosh, you sound like a therapist," I joked, forgetting that Strange wasn't exactly one for jokes.

"This is just routine, Peter," he replied flatly, eyeing me.

"Right, right..." I cleared my throat, continuing. "Yeah, yeah, definitely. I mean, I haven't told Ned that I'm, like, a superhero or whatever, but he's not really... not that I can't trust him, I'm just... not ready."

"Just like you're not ready to tell Tony that you're trans," he said, calculatingly.

"Exactly! Right, just like that..." I replied.

Strange nodded, setting his clipboard down and turning to look at a screen on the computer next to him.

"What's your t dose?"

"40 milligrams once a week. By injection."

*tw starts*

He looked up at me when I said that. "Well that explains things."

"Huh?" I asked, my stomach churning slightly at his tone. "What does that mean?"

"I mean I ran your blood, and your t levels are crazy low. As in, the testosterone isn't doing anything."

"Oh god, oh god, I knew it. This is bad, right? This explains why- oh my god," I groaned, once again grabbing my left shoulder with my right hand as I curled my legs into my chest.

"Let me guess, your monthly thing came back, yeah?" Strange asked quietly, and I could only nod in response. "It's alright, Peter. We'll just give you a higher dose. Things should sort themselves out soon, and you'll be good as new."

I watched as he pulled out a container of testosterone - much larger than the quarter sized bottles that I used at home, and a massive syringe.

"I'll give you a big dose right now, and then we'll see how that goes. If this dose works, you can either give yourself a smaller dose every day, or I can administer this larger dose once a week. It's up to you."

"Wait a second, you're gonna inject me with that?" I shrieked, watching him begin to draw up the liquid into the syringe. For some reason, though I was perfectly fine injected myself with needles, I couldn't deal with others doing in for me. "C-can't I just inject it?" I asked, though I really wasn't confident that I could manage such a large needle myself.

"You've been doing this for how many months? You'll be fine, Peter," Strange said.

It was definitely the control factor that scared me. If I was doing this myself, I would know exactly the moment that it was going to hurt. Hell, I could even drop the syringe and race out of the room if I wanted to. It was just like how other people can tickle you, but you can't tickle yourself because the surprise factor is gone. I anxiously fiddled with my thumbs as I refused to let me eyes leave the needle, just so I wouldn't be caught off guard when the inevitable finally happened.

My face was beet red, though as much as I wanted to be courageous in this moment, I was terrified. That's when Steve entered the room. He must've noticed me shaking, because he sat down beside me.

"Are you alright kid?" he asked softly.

Doctor Strange didn't seem to appreciate his presence in the room, and I watched him quickly move the testosterone bottle into a cupboard. That left only the huge syringe with the nameless yellowy liquid inside, sitting menacingly on the tray.

"Yeah, I'm- well- I have to-" I stuttered, finally just pointing to the needle.

Steve understood immediately. Or so he thought he did. "Oh dear. Spider stuff?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah. It's a spider thing, yeah. I'm just- that's a really big needle, yknow?" And then I remembered who I was talking to. "But I can do it. I mean, you had like six of these things in you at once when they turned you into a super soldier. If you can do that, than I can at least do one of these things..."

Steve laughed at that. "Sure, but you shouldn't compare yourself to me. There's nothing wrong with being afraid, no matter how big or small that fear is. I may be Captain America, but I'm not perfect. In fact, I swore to never say this in the home of Tony Stark, but I live in constant fear that the Russians are going to hack into the wifi and kill us all."

"You know that's not how it works, right?" I laughed.

"Just as much as you know that that needle is not going to kill you. But that doesn't mean you aren't afraid."

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Alright. Doctor Strange, I'm ready."

The dark haired man nodded as if to say "finally," and began to use an alcohol swab to clean off a small part of my thigh.

Steve smiled at me. "You're a good kid, you know. I was really skeptical about bringing a kid in here, but I'm glad we did."

Holy shit, Captain America just gave me a compliment.

"Thanks, Steve," I said, eyes wide with awe. Is this the part where I tell him that most of my underwear has his shield printed all over it? Probably not. Instead I let my eyes wander, just in time to see the needle inches from my skin. My immediate reaction was to jerk my leg back, causing me to almost fall onto Steve. He caught me with his sturdy hands, and a wave of comfort came over me. I met his eyes and he nodded reassuringly.

"Alright, I'm really ready this time," I said softly, squeezing my eyes shut. I didn't move from Steve's grip, though I felt one of his hands move instead to hold my hand which I took gratefully.

"Hey Steve?" I managed, right as I felt a prick.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Do you think that I should tell May that I'm Spider-Man?"

"It's all up to you, kid. Of course I think you should tell her, but don't rush into it before you're ready."

"I know. I just feel like I'm lying to her by not telling her, yknow?" I replied.

"The one thing I can tell you is that you're not lying to her. It's not like that. I didn't tell Bucky when I ran off to enlist in the army, or when I was turned into a super soldier, but that doesn't mean I was lying to him. And besides that, you did the right thing by letting us help you. She would be proud of you for that." He squeezed my hand. "Although, I can't guarantee that she won't ground you for life just to try and keep you off the streets. She'll want to protect you just as much as you think you're protecting her by not telling her what's going on."

That last part was definitely true. "Thanks, Steve. That means a lot coming from someone like you."

"Anytime, young man."

I had been so distracted by our conversation that before I knew it, Strange was tossing away the needle and putting a band-aid on my leg.

"Oh, I don't need a band-aid, Doctor Strange. I'll heal right away," I said. "Hey, wait, this is an Iron Man band-aid. I'm not five, you know!" I whined, seeing the red and gold pattern right where the needle had been.

*tw ends*

He laughed in response. "Mr. Stark only lets us keep Avengers themed band-aids in the house. Don't ask. And before I forget," he handed me a piece of paper. "Here's your new dose. I'll be gone for a few days, so just keep this up until I get back and then we'll check in again. I'll have a box of supplies brought up to your room."

"Thank you, Doctor Strange. You're literally a life saver."

"Well, that is what neurosurgeons do," he said.

Steve cleared his throat, alerting me to the fact that I was still basically sitting on top of him. I flushed bright red, wishing I had that mask to cover my face at this moment. "Oh! I'm sorry," I squeaked out as I jumped off.

"I don't mind, as long as you're happy," he said, his eyes shining. I smiled back. He had a very fatherly persona, not necessarily as a father figure to me, but to someone out there. I wondered if he would ever have kids, or if he even wanted them.

It was at that moment I realized that maybe what I had said about being afraid to tell May that I'm Spider-Man was really about my fear of telling Tony that I'm trans.

Chapter Text

Peter's POV

Morning at Avengers tower was oddly very normal.

Steve had already gone for his morning run, and was now reading the morning paper while drinking coffee. Natasha and Wanda were doing some sort of intensive yoga effortlessly. Tony was working in his shop, or so I was told. Thor was in the kitchen following some recipe by Rachael Ray on the TV. Clint Barton was nowhere to be seen, though I could practically hear him snoring through the walls.

I was curled up on one of the couches, still taking in the environment. I didn't think I'd ever been in a home this nice before. But the part that shocked me the most was how homey it managed to feel. To me "home" was the place where there were marks on the walls from reckless childhood years, where nothing was in the right cupboards but that's the sole reason you knew where everything was. This place was a modern architect's dream, and it was the tidiest place I'd ever seen.

I pulled my phone - which was cracked, and the design on the case was fading - out of my pocket. You see, last night I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, exhausted from the day of agility tests and being poked and prodded at. The result of my time asleep was that I now had the joy of reading through a spam of messages from Ned and MJ. Most of it was MJ trying to see just how oblivious Ned was to fact that I was Spider-Man. I laughed and rolled my eyes simultaneously as I read through the texts.

There was one additional text, from May. "The apartment is so quiet without you! Hope everythings going well. Love you xx".

I quickly replied, "Love you too, I'll call you tonight."

I didn't say anything in response to Ned and MJ, however, but I figured I would get a chance to FaceTime with them later on.

"What's that smile, Parker?" Natasha asked, smirking at me. "You got a girl on that phone?"

"Uh, no, I'm not-" I started, my face reddening with embarrassment. "It's just my aunt, and some of my friends."

"Girl friends? Friends that are girls?" she pressed.

"No, they're not," I replied shortly. I wasn't annoyed so much at the fact that she was asking, but more so at the fact that she assumed I was straight. Yeah, I was bi, but I definitely had a preference for guys.

"Good morning, Barton, can I make you anything to eat?" Thor chirped from the kitchen, causing us all to look up.

Sure enough, there stood Clint Barton, still in purple pajama pants and a black jumper, rubbing groggily at his eyes. "YasureThor," he yawned. "I'll have whatever yer makin, plus some coffee. Oh hey kid, good to see you didn't die in your sleep or something, do you want anything? Tea, maybe?"

"Uh, yeah, tea sounds good," I said, utterly confused.

He then dragged his feet across the floor and slumped onto the couch beside me, looking about ready to fall asleep again.

"Does that happen often? Like, do people usually die in their sleep on the first night here?" I questioned.

"Huh?" he asked, looking as though I woke him up when I spoke. "Oh, that. Nah, but after the stunt I pulled yesterday, Tony will kill me if anything happens to you on my watch. He said something about how being a dad gives me a moral obligation or some shit. I don't really know."

"I'll be fine, Clint," I said as I laughed, though I was surprised that the one Avenger who had dropped a truck on me purposefully also happened to be the one who had kids themselves.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't blow yourself up by accident or anything." I watched him lazily close his eyes again, his head falling back onto the cushion.

Moments later, he suddenly shot straight up, just as Thor entered the room with two mugs. Clint eagerly accepted his coffee, chugging it despite the steam that was clearly coming off of it. I thanked Thor as he handed me a mug of tea.

I brought it to my lips, blowing on it in attempts to cool it down, however I felt Clint grab my arm.

"Don't even think about drinking that yet. The tea's too hot, you'll burn your tongue," I sensed the humor in his threat, however we were immediately interrupted by an electronic voice.

"Peter's 't' is not meant to be digested! Shall I dial poison control?" J.A.R.V.I.S. asked, sounding awfully anxious for a robot.

"No! J.A.R.V.I.S. no, I'm fine!" I shrieked, turning bright red as I stared upwards. "It's not- it's just green tea, J.A.R.V.I.S.!"

"Steve, can you confirm this?" The voice asked.

I rubbed my forehead with my hand, not wanting to explain what J.A.R.V.I.S. thought was going on. Regardless, I thought he would be smarter than to confuse testosterone with tea. He surely had inherited Tony's protectiveness.

"Uh, yeah, he seems fine to me," Steve replied in the most confused voice ever. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing, from the looks on their faces.

"My apologies, although for the record Mr. Barton seemed very concerned," the AI said.

"Well yeah, concerned for my own life! Tony would've slaughtered me!" Clint whined.

"Speak of the devil," Tony said, entering the room. He arms were smudged with grease and his hair was sticking up in odd places.

"Yknow, I don't think you're allowed to say that about yourself," Steve spoke up thoughtfully.

"Why do you all look so stunned? And more importantly, why does Clint think I'm going to kill him?" Tony asked, looking around at us. I threw on my best innocent face, begging the moment to pass. "Nothing? Well, then. Peter, wanna take a field trip?"