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Spider-Man was one of the first well known superheroes to pop up in New York, beginning his vigilante career in 2000 at fourteen (not that anyone knew that). By the time he hit college, he was considered to be in the big leagues and at that point having teamed up with just about ever hero and hero-adjacent person out there.
Peter Parker had, entirely accidentally, amassed a bit of a reputation among the superhero community in New York. Not as Spider-Man either, but as himself: a decent photographer that wouldn’t publish incriminating photos (though everyone knew he had them), a “jack of all trades” (cough nerd cough) that knew enough about enough that he could probably help you track down buildings owned by so-and-so, or develop an antidote to a poison before it kills you, or diffuse a bomb in a pinch. An overall decent guy to call in an emergency that wouldn’t give up your secret identity.
Somehow, his phone number had managed to circulate through the entirety of the X-men, the Defenders, and eventually the Fantastic Four within a few months of his high school graduation.
(He still blamed Deadpool, but sometimes Double-D got this little smirk when Peter complained about it during their weekly lunches/drinks that made him think DP wasn’t the only one writing his number on the metaphorical doors of the vigilante bathroom stalls.)
Peter hadn’t really known about his reputation until he’d encountered Johnny Storm. JJJ had told Peter that he had been requested to take pictures for an interview with the man for some reason, which wasn’t really something he’d done before, but figured it would be easy money. Johnny had greeted him with a (somehow flirty?) handshake and a comment about how he’d come highly recommended. Peter’d spent the whole interview freaking the fuck out because the fucking Human Torch was going to out him as Spider-Man and this was NOT how he had thought this day was going to go, but then Johnny had bought him a pizza and explained that he had heard that Danny Rand of all people had mentioned him in passing at some charity thing or other and Johnny had looked him up later. (“It’s hard for us hero types to find people who won’t sell us out for a twenty, ya know? So when one of us finds one, we kinda latch on. I’m surprised nobody’s said anything before now, actually.”)
And yeah, it made sense, and actually put a lot of the recent encounters he’d had with other supers into perspective. Honestly, he had been very confused about where Wolverine would have gotten his number, but the whole threat of power-dampening collars in the hands of human traffickers had kind of put that on the back burner, and don’t even get him started on the goddamned Punisher asking him to dog sit. At least the fact that he was Spider-Man was still a secret, even if both of his identities were were now firmly up to their necks in super hero drama.
So really, Peter shouldn’t have been surprised when Tony Fucking Stark asked him to come over to a fucking diner for a consultation, but he was, okay? Because what the hell could Tony Fucking Stark want with a mediocre photographer at 2AM on a Tuesday night?
“I’m dying and I’ve been reliably informed that you have a talent for biochemistry and pulling miracles out of your ass and I kind of need that right now.”
Peter blinked, then sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Fucking...okay. What’ve you got?”
Dr. Tony Fucking Stark (or Tony, as he apparently preferred) had palladium poisoning from the arc reactor embedded in his chest (what the fuck?) that he was hiding from literally everyone he knew. It was Dr. Reed Fucking Richards who had given the man Peter’s number and told him he was a miracle worker (which was a compliment of the highest order to the twenty-four year old grad student who had idolized both of the scientists since he was eight ) and Tony had just passed his role as CEO of Stark Industries on to his PA in order to have time to try and figure out a way to save his ass from a painfully drawn out death. He had then flown out to NYC to pick Peter up and take him back to Malibu to help him out.
Peter stared at the man for several long minutes before he sighed and nodded. “I’ll call Wade to cover my ass for the week.” Say what you will about the man, but he can use a camera, even if his shots generally turned out a bit more weirdly erotic then was probably appropriate for a newspaper.
He woke up the next morning in a private jet as it touched down in Malibu and spent the next two weeks learning more about various scientific fields from a man with two and a half decades experience revolutionizing them and somehow actually being helpful. By the sixteenth day, they had synthesized a new element (lovingly referred to as badassium) and Peter had filled a five subject notebook and a half with notes that he should honestly probably burn for the sake of national security.
(“Why aren’t you working in a lab somewhere?”
“I had an internship with Oscorp when I was sixteen. Within a month of my working there, Dr. Connors used my contributions to become a giant lizard and was midway through using an airborne version of the serum to try and turn everyone in New York into giant lizards. My then-girlfriend and I were barely able to get the antidote into the machine, and Connors killed her dad in the chaos. After an experience like that, I’m waiting to get my PhD and can research independently before I try anything else.”
“Jesus fuck.”)
A lot had been learned by both of them about Tony’s physiology, since Peter insisted on running all kinds of tests before agreeing to allow a brand new element into Tony’s bloodstream. It was eventually determined that Howard Stark had experimented on him at some point. Peter was fairly certain that it was while he was a literal infant.
It was at the end of a three-day-long science bender when this came to light. Peter, in his exhaustion and general lack of tact, decided that the best way to comfort the man was to say this thing specifically: “If it makes you feel any better, I’m fairly certain my father did the same thing and that that’s the only reason I lived when a genetically engineered spider bit me.” This did not help, but did give Tony the necessary information to put the pieces together and figure out that he was Spider-Man, which opened a whole new can of worms that somehow ended with the pair of them sprawled out over the couch asleep for the next several hours while JARVIS fabricated the new arc reactor casing.
When they woke up the next morning, Peter cooked breakfast while Tony triple-checked their calculations.
Dinner that night was an impromptu celebration of Tony’s thirty-sixth birthday (which he had forgotten), and, unbeknownst to Rhodey and Pepper, the successful integration of the new arc reactor. After dinner, Tony and Rhodey went flying and Pepper and Peter had a long conversation over a bottle of wine that consisted mostly of an interrogation on exactly who Peter was and why he had spent the last two-and-a-half weeks with Tony in the workshop. When Peter returned to New York a couple days later, he had four new contacts in his phone. (JARVIS insisted on being included. Tony hadn’t known the AI had his own phone number.)
***
Over the next couple of years, Peter and Tony kept in contact. Tony paid off Peter’s student loans (which he forgot to tell Peter about and Words were had) as a thank you for helping him figure out his palladium situation and put Peter’s name on every patent he had a hand in, however insignificant. Peter started coming over to the revamped workshop in the Stark Mansion and later Stark Tower on the weekends when Tony was in town.
(“I don’t need to be paid to get to mess around in your workshop Tony!”
“I may be an asshole, but I don’t fuck around when it comes to intellectual property. That’s the whole reason there was an issue with Vanko in the first place! As long as you’re working with me, even if it’s casual, you will be credited for your work and paid for your time because you’re a goddamned genius and I like working with you and I don’t want to do anything that might alienate you later on!”
“I just don’t want you to think that I’m only hanging around for the science or the money Tony. You think I hang around Richards and Storm like this? I like you , idiot, the science and shit is a plus, yeah, but do you realize that you’re like my best friend?”
“...okay, but my point about intellectual property still stands.”
“Fuck, fine. But we’re watching Star Wars later, and you are going to sleep even if I have to sit on you.”)
It was during one of these weekends, as Tony fired up the massive arc reactor running the tower, that Agent Coulson showed up.
Peter and Pepper were in the penthouse, this time sharing a bottle of champagne (they had kind of become drinking buddies, which put Pepper on a list with Matt Murdock and Jessica Jones, which was fucking wild. In his head he called them the Alcoholic Alliteration Association, but they would all tease him for that, so he didn’t say it out loud.) with Tony when Coulson somehow got around the security system and walked right in. Both genii made mental notes to fix that little security breach.
Once Coulson had gotten Pepper to leave and said his piece to Tony, he turned to Peter. “Mr. Parker, it has come to our attention that you are in contact with the vast majority of the enhanced individuals in the state.”
Peter stared at him blankly until he continued.
“We would like you to come to headquarters with Mr. Stark tomorrow.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. He had been interrogated about the other supers enough over the years that he had developed what was becoming a legendary poker face. “Why?”
“In case we need to coordinate with the enhanced individuals in the area, as we think we may need to.”
Peter stared at him for a bit longer, then nodded.
Coulson nodded back and left the room.
“The vast majority of the enhanced individuals in the state ?”
Peter grinned at Tony’s incredulity, but said nothing, choosing instead to start reading the files Tony had been given over his shoulder.
In the state was a pretty massive understatement at this point.
***
The next day, Tony dropped Peter off at SHIELD HQ just in time to find that they had already gotten a hit on Loki’s location and had just sent Black Widow and Captain America to Germany to apprehend him. This left Peter with Phil Coulson and Dr. Bruce Fucking Banner (the third of Peter’s big three science idols and the only one he didn’t know personally at this point) for about twelve hours, which was just about long enough for Banner to move from ScienceCrush! territory to MustBeProtected! territory. He also spent a lot of time evading questions from Coulson, which was honestly kind of entertaining. He also came to realize that his secret identity had somehow remained secret for the entire literal decade from the entirety of an organization that dealt a lot with “enhanced individuals” on a regular basis.
(Peter suspected divine intervention, because he was a fucking mess for the first several years he spent as vigilante and honestly, he still wasn’t great.)
During those twelve hours, he also managed to alert most of the supers of the possible extraterrestrial threat so they would be ready in case it became necessary for them to move. He had slept for a couple hours the night before (sprawled over Tony so that he was also forced to sleep, as had become the norm for the weekends over the past couple years), so he was good to be alert until Tony was there to watch his back. He didn’t trust these people as far as he could throw the helicarrier.
They arrived around 6AM, Loki was imprisoned in a big ol’ glass tube thingy, and Tony was briefly safely within arms reach again. Peter had been with Banner and Coulson at the table on the bridge when Tony came looking for him, and greeted the man by pointing at Bruce and saying “Science Friend!”
Tony didn’t have time to reply before Coulson took him somewhere that he could store the suit. Once they got back, everyone else had congregated around the table. Peter was playing angry birds with the sound turned up just enough that it was annoying the hell out of Agent Hill while ignoring everyone. His head snapped up when Tony entered, and he watched as Tony distracted everyone so that he could plant JARVIS on Fury’s fancy computer and met Banner.
Eventually, it was Captain America who asked about Peter. “Who are you? You weren’t in the files.”
Peter grinned. “Peter Parker, freelance photographer known mostly for working with the Daily Bugle, at your service!”
Everyone in the room stared at him. Fury scoffed.
“He’s been working with the enhanced population of New York for the past decade and knows how to contact them in case he end up too far in over our heads.”
Peter didn’t confirm or deny, just kept that sunny smile plastered across his face.
“He has also been involved in the prevention of no less than twelve disasters, nine of them citywide, and three of them nation or possibly worldwide.”
Peter did address this, sort of. “I think you’ve miscounted. Also, Dr. Richards and Dr. Storm have been asking why they, as the leading authority on extraterrestrial relations, weren’t consulted when they detected the portal opening. SHIELD hasn’t gotten back to them.”
“So you don’t deny your involvement.” Fury jumped on the statement, ignoring the message from Richards and Storm.
“Nor do I confirm it. My file wasn’t very specific on which disasters I allegedly helped prevent, nor was it especially specific on literally anything. There were several things that, given that my parents were SHIELD agents before they were assassinated, definitely should’ve been in there that weren’t. Their files however, were rather interesting.” (His own file didn’t even list his address, school, or place of work besides the Bugle, which meant that Coulson finding him at Tony’s place was probably a happy accident.)
“And how exactly did you get you hands on those?”
“Weren’t you just talking about how I supposedly have all sorts of friends?”
Tony’s hand found it’s way into his hair, which immediately got his (and everyone else’s) attention. They weren’t subtle.
“Science?” Peter asked, completely dropping the conversation and leaning into it because who cared at this point.
“Science.” Tony agreed, tugging a little.
Peter stood up and Tony’s hand fell. “Food first, you haven’t eaten since we left the tower.”
“But Mo~om I just got a new science friend!”
“Well I’m sure your new science friend is hungry too, as no one’s bothered to feed him since he got here.”
Bruce looked a bit sheepish, but didn’t say anything. Coulson winced.
Before leaving the room with the scientists (well, technically he also qualified as a scientist), Peter turned back to Fury, totally serious for the first time since boarding the helicarrier.
“Everyone who needed to be informed of a possible incoming invasion has been informed. I’ve got people on standby all over the country, and people monitoring everywhere else just for good measure. If they are needed, they will come. I’ve done my job, you do yours.”
And the Scientists Three left the bridge in search of food.
The room was silent for a long moment before Thor let out a booming laugh. “I like him!”
***
A few hours later found Peter sitting quietly on an unused counter in the lab, leaning against his bag against the glass of the large window overlooking the bridge. He kept mostly to himself, only adding something when the science giants in the room were missing something obvious, and asking questions every once in a while (smart as he was, he couldn’t really become an expert in a field overnight like Tony could, but he wasn’t clueless either) and keeping an eye on the scepter.
The scepter, which was just sitting there, had been setting off his Spidey Sense since he entered the lab, but it didn’t seem to be affecting any of them, so he just watched, waiting to see what it would do. It definitely had a presence, but it seemed pretty benign for the most part.
The first time it flared up was after Tony shocked Bruce. Captain America, who happened to be passing by, rushed into the room and started berating Tony, and the energy surrounding the scepter flared, sharpening the tension in the room.
Peter jumped to the floor. “Stop!” He ordered in his best I’m-Spider-Man-and-you’re-in-danger voice.
Both men snapped to attention.
“The scepter just did something weird and you two became irrational and hostile. Coincidence? I think not. If this argument is going to continue, it will continue outside of this room and outside the scepter’s sphere of influence. Understood?”
“How do you know it’s the scepter?” Tony asked.
“I’ve been watching it. It wasn’t really doing anything until the Captain busted in. Correlation. You both became irrational after it flared. Correlation. Causation? Maybe. I’m testing that by telling the pair of you to knock it off or take it outside.”
The men studied each other for a long moment.
“I should also mention that there’s a possible threat of alien invasion and the pair of you may have to fight together, so you should probably air out whatever dirty laundry the pair of you somehow managed to accumulate last night so it’s not an issue when lives are at stake, but once again, not in this room specifically. Actually, I’m making an executive decision and the pair of you have twenty minutes to get your shit together, and I’m locking you out of the lab until that twenty minutes is up. Go! Shoo! Communicate like adults!”
He shoved the pair of them out the door and closed it before they could protest, and set a timer on his phone before returning to his perch on the counter. Bruce was staring at him with wide eyes.
“What did you mean about the scepter flaring? Is it safe to stay in here?” He looked nervous.
“Don’t panic, Doc. It stopped once they left. I think it has something to do with hostility, though you’ve got a rage monster to deal with, so I’m actually pretty impressed that you managed to get through that without reacting.”
“Did it affect you?”
Peter shrugged. “Probably, but it seemed like it was dealing specifically with animosity. I’ve admired the three of your work in some capacity for years, and really don’t have a problem with any of you. Those two however, definitely have some preconceived notions about each other that need to be dealt with. Hopefully their temporary exile helps a little, assuming they actually try to have a conversation.”
Bruce stared at him.
“I minored in psychology because everyone I know is emotionally constipated, and almost none of them have healthy coping mechanisms, but none of them feel safe enough to actually get the help they need. If I don’t try to mediate, no one will. I’m the most functional person I know aside from Pepper Potts who took two weeks to whip an international tech conglomerate into shape and still finds time for mani-pedi’s once a week.”
They stared at each other for a minute before Peter handed Bruce a water bottle and told him to drink.
***
Thor came to find him pretty soon after Tony returned to the lab. It was a welcome distraction, as Tony was pouting and ignoring him for making him talk about his feelings (as he was wont to do for a while before becoming clingy and tactile), so Peter followed him back down onto the bridge.
“What are you to your people?” Thor asked, seemingly evaluating him.
“A nuisance, if I’m honest.” Peter quipped, making the god(?) smirk, but he wasn’t deterred.
“You act like a prince, coordinate like a general, and watch like a spy. I admit to being curious.”
“What’s the difference between a prince and a king?”
Thor blinked. “Power. Influence. Duties. Many things.”
“My power is influence. My duties are self-imposed. To some I am a confidant or a source of information. I am a jack of all trades with my fingers in too many pies. Mostly, I am who you go to if don’t have anyone else.”
“So you are a queen.”
Peter grinned. “A princess. I’m still learning, and my wiles are rather important. Plus, I look really good in heels.” Peter wiggled his eyebrows at Thor.
Thor laughed. Peter reminded him of Loki.
***
Peter was wrapped around Tony when Fury and Romanoff burst into the lab a couple hours later, pissed off about his snooping. Peter was sitting on the edge of the table, arms and legs looped around Tony’s chest and waist, and face pressed into his neck, sleeping lightly. He woke up when the scepter flared again, cranking up the hostility in the lab once more. His arms tightened and Tony’s hand was in his hair again, making his limbs loosen up before it became hard to breathe. Without extracting himself, Peter turned his head toward the spies.
“The scepter just flared again. Calm down or get out.”
“How could you possibly detect that?” Tony asked.
“Previous experience with mind magic. You can sense it once you know what it feels like. Ask Thor, he probably knows.”
“Magic isn’t real.” Tony argued.
“Sure it isn’t. The sky is chartreuse and cows oink.”
“We will be having words.”
“Magpie. Rudolf. Antidisestablishmentarianism. Peach. Fusion.”
“If you two are done flirting, do one of you mind explaining what you’re doing putting your noses where they don’t belong?” Fury demanded.
“Yeah, I kind of do, actually.” Tony snarked.
“Look, you’re the one who let the man that A) hacked the pentagon for fun at the age of fourteen and reads code faster than English, B) you have previously wronged by not giving vital information that could save his life when you had it, and C) created and has access to an AI that can process and organize information way faster than any human alive onto your ship. You also sent Coulson to his home and later his tower, violating both his safety and security, and you seriously thought that he would believe that you were sharing all pertinent information and not take steps toward finding the rest of it?” Peter asked, still not moving. Tony’s hand was still in his hair and he was trying not to purr.
“Yeah, what’s phase two?” Tony asked.
Fury gave a half-truth as an explanation and the scepter flared again as Captain America barged in holding a big-ass glowing gun and talking about Hydra weapons. Peter, now actually worried, sighed and pulled away from Tony and hopped off the table, just as Tony finished pulling up schematics for the weapon behind him. Peter grabbed Tony and the Captain’s arms and dragged them toward Fury and Romanoff, shoving all four of them as well as a curious and mildly irritated Thor out of the lab until he couldn’t feel the scepter’s influence anymore, keeping an ear out for Bruce, who was manning the computer running the algorithm searching for the tesseract.
“Alright, now that we’re away from that: Fury, you brought the hacking on yourself, and frankly if anything this entire situation is a clear indication that SHIELD is not equipped to handle the tesseract, nor the consequences of using the tesseract. Romanoff, if you would quit looking at Bruce like a ticking time bomb, I would appreciate it. He is clearly the least problematic person aboard this ship, and one of the only people to have come in contact with the scepter and been able to fight it’s influence, as evidenced by the fact that he is not currently a giant green rage monster, which is good because he’s the one keeping track of the tesseract. Captain, no yelling in the lab, we’ve been over this: snark only, and keep it above the belt. Thor, hello again, do you know anything about mind magic? The scepter is clearly exhibiting some kind of mind magic and none of these people have acknowledged that it exists yet, so any allies would be appreci—“ He heard Bruce curse and his Spidey Sense went off, “GET DOWN!” Peter tackled Tony to the ground and covered his body with his own, the others in the hall following suit as the entire ship shook violently.
He listened for Bruce, and heard that one of the engines had stopped and its propellor was slowing. Bruce’s heart rate was up. Loki was laughing. The agents on the bridge were working to get the engine back online. There were hostiles on the ship that had hit the helicarrier with a missile and they were boarding from the southwest side of the ship. He realized he was narrating this out loud and would probably have to explain it later.
Peter looked down at Tony who stared up at him with wide eyes. Peter patted his cheek, then got to his feet, pulling the older man up with him. “Suit up, we’ve got an engine down and you might have to do some heavy lifting. I’ve still got my comm. Fury, get up, we’re on the clock!”
“How the fuck— “
“I’m Spider-Man motherfuckers, and I’m gonna go try and calm Bruce down before he goes a’ smashing!”
***
The fight was over quickly, once Romanoff realized that cognitive recalibration (knocking ‘em on the head) was a successful method of overcoming the scepter’s mind control. Unfortunately, Loki had escaped with the scepter and tricked Thor into falling off the ship in the glass tube cell. Hulk went on a kamikaze mission and fought off the attackers and went down with their ship. Hawkeye, who was part of the Avengers Initiative, had been taken back from Loki. Coulson had been announced dead (Peter heard when his heart restarted and told Tony before he got too upset about it).
Captain America (“Call me Steve. Seriously.”), Tony, and Peter were sitting at the table on the bridge. Fury was trying to sell them on Coulson being dead. “...I lost my one good eye.”
“His current heart rate is fifty-four beats per minute.” Peter declared from his spot on Tony’s lap.
Fury’s head snapped toward Peter.
“I did tell you I had super hearing earlier. I literally said that I could pick out Bruce’s heartbeat in the chaos following the first impact. Honestly man, you’re off your game today.”
Fury stared at him for a long moment, then let out a long sigh and slumped into one of the office chairs at the table. “Look Spider-Man, you’ve been helpful today. Hell, apparently you’re generally pretty helpful on both sides of the coin. But this? This rudely interrupting with new information and good counter arguments when I’m in the middle of trying to express a thought? Not cool.”
Peter shrugged. “Well, we’re kind of on a time crunch, given the whole imminent alien invasion thing we’ve got going on. I figured there’s time for being polite later. Right now, as in literally right as you were going to give a speech about a not-dead dead man, I got an update from The Fantastic Four that someone matching Selvig’s description is setting up for a portal on the roof of Stark tower.” Peter stood as he said it, and Tony got to his feet with a snarl. Peter continued, “None of the supers in New York are moving in until they have Loki’s location, because if he can get control of them, they might do more harm than good. I suggest we pack up the Super Spies and get a move on so we can get ahead of the aliens, yeah?”
Now everyone was on their feet, and Peter and Steve were following the raging Tony toward his barely-functional suit. Fury was at the computers on the bridge. “Barton’s awake, and he’s a pilot!” He called after them.
“Got it, Chief!” Peter called back over his shoulder. “Good luck with the WSC!”
Fury gave himself ten seconds to convince himself not to shoot the Spider next time he saw him, and got to work.
(How the everloving fuck did that guy know about the World Security Council? The fucking President didn’t know about the World Security Council.)
***
With Tony flying on ahead (Peter didn’t try to stop him, and no one else could do it), the rest of them—Steve, Romanoff, Barton, and Peter—flew in a quinjet, with the spies as pilots. Peter was pacing, and on a conference call with what seemed like every enhanced person in New York City, along with the X-Men, trying to convince them to stay on the fringes of the fight and help evacuate civilians.
“And for the love of god, try to blend in! If Loki can’t easily identify you, he can’t easily take over your mind! Wear masks if you have to—hell, wear your suit if you have to, but it’s probably going to be safer overall if you’re less recognizable. Also, if someone DOES get mind-controlled, hit ‘em really hard (by normal standards) in the head. Just enough to knock them out. No killing teammates, not even if it’s Deadpool or Wolverine! Any questions?”
Steve was watching Peter from across the jet with a weird look on his face as a bunch of people on the line started blurting out questions as fast as he could give answers.
“Oh! Also! For those of you who don’t know, my last living relative died a few months back, and all my friends are supers, so ya’ know. I’m Spider-Man.”
There was a brief silence before one guy shouted “Goddammit Parker! I’ve literally known both of your identities for like a decade, how did you fucking manage that?” And a sea of expletives flooded across the line.
“Alright guys! Stay alive so you can kick my ass later! Byeee!”
Steve stared at him. “That seemed like a bad idea.”
“Meh. My last suit burned in an apartment fire four days ago and I haven’t had time to make a new one. Got my web-shooters and a lot of web fluid though, so I should be fine.”
The jet was silent for a moment, before Romanoff sighed. “There’s extra uniforms in the cupboard in the back. Get a catsuit. Made for women, but stretchy, more flexible.
“...Fuck it, I’ve fought in Spandex for a decade. That can’t be any worse.”
“Try a 36.”
***
“Hey, the Spiders match!”
“Shut the fuck up Tony.”
***
“Jesus fuck, Johnny! Punch me in the face later! I’m kind of in the middle of something!”
“Eight! Fucking! Years! You asshole!”
***
“So you’re a spy after all!”
“Nah man, still a princess, just, like, a dumbass princess that’s living a double life as warrior that pisses everyone off!”
“Yes, a spy!”
“You haven’t met Romanoff yet, have you.”
***
“Hey, Peter?”
“Yeah, Tony?”
“If I die flying the goddamned nuke into space, I left you ownership of the company.”
“YOU DID FUCKING WHAT!?!”
***
“Sooo.”
“So.”
“You kissed me.”
“Yup.”
“We gonna talk about that?”
“Maybe after we talk about the fact that you tried to leave me , your dumbass biologist-photographer buddy with four dollars in his bank account a fucking multibillion dollar tech company.”
“Right. So later after a few drinks then?”
“Fucking...alright.”
“...”
“...”
“...Wanna kiss me again?”
“Fuck yeah.”
***
“So you two weren’t together the whole time?”
“Nah.
“Nope.”
“So what was with all the, like, touchy-huggy-cuddly stuff?”
“Two orphaned, touch-starved geniuses whose dads were found to be involved with SHIELD and experimented on us fresh out the womb in ways that coincidentally led to us being able to survive the bullshit that caused us to become superheroes in the first place leaning on each other in times of need? Which are like, all the times?”
“You mean oblivious dumbasses?”
“I mean, I guess the shoe fits.”
***
“Christ, Tones, I thought you two were together the whole time! ”
“Et tu, Rhodey?”
***
“You mean to tell me that you and Stark haven’t been fucking for the past two years?”
“No? Just since like yesterday.”
“Oh my god Parker, is my whole life a lie?”
“No, you were right about Ben shacking up with Reed and Sue.”
“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? THAT WAS A JOKE!!! ”
***
“So.”
“So.”
“Literally everyone we know thought we were together.”
“Yup.”
“...”
“...”
“Wanna fuck?”
“I mean, yeah —“
***
“This still isn’t the worst thing you’ve caught me doing.”
“Don’t objectify me!”
“Jesus, Peter, how did you even get your legs like that?”
“...I’m Spider-Man?”
“Happy owes me fifty bucks.”
“HOW THE FUCK— Ho-oly shiiit! Tonyyy!”
“Tony, we’ve talked about this—“
***
“YOU’RE TELLING ME PARKER HAS BEEN SELLING ME SELFIES FOR TEN! GODDAMED! YEARS!?!”
“…Who wants to tell him that he was technically funding Spider-Man?”
“Not it!”