The Miraculous Spiderman Series

            “As you know, Midtown High prides itself in its focus of science and technology, and the immense effort…,” the principal droned on, and all Peter could do was list all the places he would rather be at that very moment than in the crowded auditorium with the rest of his school. It was a very long list, including, but not limited to: home, the Avengers headquarters, dead in a ditch, etc.

In fact, Peter had been entirely prepared to call it a day and dip before the assembly even began. Only, Ned hadn’t shared his enthusiasm.

“Come on, Peter, it’s just one assembly. Maybe this one will be important!” Peter didn’t know why Ned wanted to know who had won the Paris trip so badly. It wasn’t like either of them had entered. Midtown School of Science and Technology wasn’t one for giving out frivolous rewards to their top students; everyone was pretty equally intelligent. But once every ten years they held a contest, where the winner would get to spend an entire year in Paris, all expenses paid. All they had to do was come up with the most innovative idea, or the coolest invention, and then they’d be shipped off across the world on a trip of a lifetime. Peter could think of multiple inventions he’d developed in the last four months that would have made him a shoe-in for first place.

But he hadn’t applied.

As a member of the Avengers, he had to be available to fight evil at any given moment. Sure, Mr. Stark had never said that specifically, but Peter knew how to read between the lines. And if he left, who would protect New York? Besides the rest of the Avengers, of course.

Even if he had wanted to get out and explore the world, he was stuck there. And Peter was one hundred percent okay with that.

“And this year’s winner of the Paris Exchange Program is…,” Peter was brought back to earth by a harsh nudge in the rib cage, courtesy of Ned.

“What?” Peter hissed, scooting away from him.

“Are you even paying attention?” Ned whispered accusingly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Principal Morita was making a big show out of opening an envelope and reading out the name. Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hoped someone like MJ got it. Someone who deserved it. Literally anyone other than Flash.

“Peter Parker!”

Peter jerked up at the mention of his name, his jaw dropping when he realized it came from the principal. Meaning…

“Dude!” Ned gripped him in a tight hug, having processed the situation far faster than Peter could have. He was still trying to figure out why everyone was staring at him, waiting expectantly.

“I won? I didn’t even enter!”

“I know! I entered for you! That experiment you did, something about quantum physics, the one you did with Scott Lang!” Ned pushed him into a standing position as applause swept the auditorium.

“What about the Stark internship? I can’t just leave New York!” Peter resisted as Ned also stood, pushing him through the row.

“Yes you can. Tony Stark is like, the guy. If he needs you, he’ll get you. Simple as that.”

Peter turned away from him to realize he was now standing at the foot of the stage. Another heartbeat later and the principal had helped pull him up into the spotlight to face his peers.

“Mr. Parker here will be changing places with a Parisian student named Max in what will surely be a learning experience for everyone!” Peter was barely clinging onto Principal Morita’s words as he said them, glancing down as a booklet was forced into his hands.

“Thank you, but I can’t-” Peter’s protests were cut off by another lengthy description of just how much Peter would learn in another country, what great adventures he’d go on, all while he wished nothing more than for the floor to open and swallow him up.

“What were you thinking?” Peter raked his hands through his hair, pacing in front of Ned in his tiny apartment kitchen. “I can’t go to Paris!”

“You’re going to Paris?” Aunt May paused in her way in the door. “You won the contest?”

“Yes, I mean no! No I’m not going to Paris!” Peter paused, glaring between the both of them. “Were you in on this too, May?”

“Of course I was. I suggested it,” Aunt May said, settling next to Ned at the table, joining in on mocking Peter’s misery.

“You’re both the worst, you know that?” Peter sighed, leaning against the counter. He wanted to go to Paris, it was the opportunity of a lifetime, but he couldn’t just leave like that. Not when he’d worked so hard to become a member of the Avengers, worked so hard to go from just a friendly neighbourhood Spiderman to a recognized hero.

“I don’t see why you can’t just be Spiderman in Paris,” May said pointedly, crossing her arms.

“And you’re welcome, by the way.” Ned eyed Peter. “Everyone at that school would kill to go on that trip.”

“So why don’t you go?” Peter asked, waving his arm at Ned.

“Because I don’t deserve it. And if you don’t go, then it’ll go to Flash. You know that.” Ned had a point, Peter hated to admit.

“Why don’t you just talk to Tony?” May suggested innocently. “I can tell you want to go, Peter. Don’t lie.”

“Fine,” Peter begrudgingly agreed. “I’ll talk to him, but I know he won’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Paris? That’s a great idea,” Tony Stark said, glancing at Peter over his computer screen.

“Really?” Peter couldn’t believe it. “You don’t want me sticking around just in case there’s… you know. Avengers stuff?” He dropped his voice a few volumes, looking around in case someone was listening.

“You’re at the Avengers headquarters, kid. I’m pretty sure everyone here knows you’re a part of the team.”

Peter brushed past his comment, but resolved to give it more thought later, (a part of the team!) instead focusing on what was really holding him back. “I’m just not sure if I’m ready to give up the suit for a whole year, Mr. Stark.”

Tony scoffed. “Give up the suit? Why on earth would you think I’d make you give up the suit if you went to Paris? Nah, take the suit, you’ll need it.”

“Really?” Peter couldn’t believe his luck.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll meet some of Paris’s own superheroes. They’ve got a few, if I remember correctly. Also bug-themed, I think.” All of Iron Man’s attention had been returned to his computer.

“It says here I’ll be staying with some fashion designer…,” Peter flipped through his booklet. “Agreste? I think that was his name.”

“Yeah, very big over there,” Tony muttered distractedly, tapping something on the screen. “Try not to make an arse of yourself, whatever you do will inevitably reflect on me.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Stark.” Peter clutched his booklet to his chest, already excited about what the future would bring. Then one more thought occurred to him. “Wait, I don’t speak French.”

“Then I suggest you start studying,” Tony supplied. “Don’t you leave in a week?”

Peter’s last week at school was fairly uneventful. His excitement for Paris was only growing with each passing minute, and he’d begun researching the superheroes Tony had mentioned. He tried to keep it to a minimum at school, around his understandably jealous classmates, but Ned wasn’t making it easy.

“Okay, I found something,” he whispered in Peter’s last science class. “It says here their names are Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“Ladybug and black cat,” Peter replied thoughtfully, using the opportunity to show off his developing knowledge of the French language. “I wonder what they do.”

“I don’t know,” Ned said, scrolling on his phone. “There’s a ton of videos, but they’re all in French and I haven’t had the chance to watch them.”

“That’s alright,” Peter waved it off. “I’m sure I’ll wind up working with them, if trouble arises. Plus, they look young.” He peered at the photo Ned offered up. “Maybe we’ll become friends. Would be nice to know some superheroes my own age.”

“No offence, but you have a hard enough time making English friends. You don’t speak French at all.” Ned shot him a look.

“Gosh, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Peter said, leaning back in his chair. “Just to prove you wrong, I’m going to make a ton of friends. Superhero or not, I’m going to be the most popular boy in Paris.”

“If you say so, Peter.” Ned didn’t look convinced.

Peter triple checked everything on the morning of his departure, making sure he had everything. In truth, he kept worrying he was somehow forgetting his suit, as though it wasn’t in a top security briefcase in his carryon backpack.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” May said as she hugged him goodbye in the airport. “Call me every now and then so I know you’re not dead. That’s all I ask.”

“Try not to have too much fun without me,” Peter grinned, hugging her back just as tightly.

“Are you kidding, it’ll be like the good old days! Now hurry up, you’ll miss your flight.”

Peter rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to remind her he was two hours early, instead joining the queue.

“Bon voyage!” He heard her call after him as he gave her one last wave before disappearing beyond the entryway.

Even Tony had been thoughtful enough to wish him safe travels, in his own way of course. A singular aeroplane emoji, sent at 3 am that morning. Peter didn’t know Iron Man was an emoji user. Even still, he resisted the urge to screenshot it and send it to Ned. He didn’t need to fan girl over Tony Stark anymore, not since Tony was, well, his mentor. His father figure, if he dared say.

His suit didn’t raise any alarms, thanks to his briefcase’s special technology and Tony’s connections with the border guards, allowing Peter to pass through security easily before he was on the plane and en route to Paris.

Touching down in the Charles de Gaulle airport, Peter felt a slight tinge of anxiety. What if no one was waiting on the other side to pick him up? What if he was stranded in Paris, without a single clue of how to speak the language? What if-

All train of though was derailed as he noticed a lady in a crisp suit holding a sign with his name on it. She was tall, with glasses and side-swept hair. She seemed far too rigid to be any sort of fun whatsoever.

Gripping his suitcase, Peter wheeled it over to her, giving his best attempt at a friendly-yet-confident smile.

“Peter Parker?” She had an accent, as Peter should have expected, but it still through him off a bit, reminding him of just how different the capital of love was from the big apple.

“Uh, yeah?” He awkwardly shifted his bag, sticking out his hand so she could shake it.

“I’m Gabriel Agreste’s assistant, Nathalie. I’ll be overseeing all your affairs, as Mr. Agreste is a very busy man.”

“Yeah, of course,” Peter said, following her out of the airport and wondering just how long it would be before he could slip his suit on and explore the city. Perhaps it was best if Mr. Agreste was too busy to pay close attention. That would make it far easier for Peter to sneak out to do superhero business.

A sleek grey car was parked right outside the airport. Whoever this Mr. Agreste person was, he was definitely loaded, Peter thought as he lifted his suitcase into the trunk.

“You can put your backpack in there, too,” Nathalie said. Her words weren’t necessarily mean, she just had a cold, detached tone that made Peter want to shrivel up and hide.

“I’ll hang onto it.” He gave her a small smile, walking over to the door and opening it, sliding inside and nearly bumping into a blond boy.

“Oh, sorry.” Peter apologized, turning to face him. “I’ll go around the other side.”

The boy looked to be his age, with immaculately groomed blond hair, sparkling green eyes, and a boyish face. He looked vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn’t put his finger on it. And he was staring at Peter.

“Oh right, uh, French. Right.” Peter said as the boy unbuckled his seatbelt and slid down the row. Nathalie, unfazed, closed the door behind Peter as he climbed in and walked around to the driver’s seat, getting in and starting the car.

Peter cleared his throat, preparing to make a total fool of himself and simultaneously trying to recall the brief French sessions he’d had on Duolingo.

“Je m’appelle Peter. J’ai seize ans. Je suis Américain.” He gave the boy a smile, hoping he’d at least made some sense.

“Hello Peter, I’m Adrien Agreste.” Adrien’s English seemed to be just as tentative as Peter’s French, except for Peter had a sneaking suspicion that Adrien was going to turn out to be far more multilingual than him.

“You’re the fils of Gabriel Agreste, then?” Peter asked.

“Yes.” Adrien replied, almost deadpan. “We’re going to be… how you say? Housemates?”

“Housemates, yeah,” Peter said, digging in his bag for his briefcase. Oh so carefully, angling it so Adrien couldn’t see into his bag, Peter pulled out two small earpieces that Tony had included with the suit. He held it up so Adrien could see. “I’ve got a translator, I’ll put one in and give one to you and it’ll make everything you say sound English and everything I say sound French, at least until I learn the language.”

Peter didn’t want to cheat his way out of language learning, but he also wanted to connect with the boy sitting next to him. And so, they both put in their respective earpieces and Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“So, tell me about you, Adrien Agreste. That sounds like a superhero name, Adrien Agreste.” Peter laughed slightly, and was surprised to see an odd expression flit across Adrien’s features, only for a split second before it was replaced with its previous serene expression.

“I could say the same for you, Peter Parker,” he said with a small smile. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m a model for my father’s brand, as well as a student like yourself. In my time outside of those activities, I play piano, fence, and learn Chinese.”

Peter noted the way he didn’t say ‘free time’. Adrien seemed rather reserved, and Peter couldn’t help wondering just how much say Mr. Agreste had in his son’s life. He was prepared to put money on ‘a lot’.

“I only started going to school last year. I was homeschooled before then. What about you?”

Homeschooled. That explained the slight social awkwardness, then. Peter could relate, although his was more from his nerdy tendencies than lack of human interaction.

“Uhhhh.” What could he say? He figured leading with, ‘I’m Spiderman and a part of the Avengers’ wouldn’t be the best icebreaker. “I go to a school for science and technology, and in my free time I intern for Tony Stark.”

That seemed to get Adrien to perk up. “Tony Stark? Iron Man? What’s he like.”

That was when Nathalie chose to interrupt. “Adrien, I doubt Peter has met Mr. Stark. You know what internships are like. And we’re home.”

Peter set the record straight before climbing out of the car, leaning in to whisper to Adrien. “I have met Tony Stark, and he’s the coolest.”

Adrien grinned before climbing out and standing beside the car, waiting for Peter to soak in all his house’s glory.

If Peter hadn’t been used to Stark Towers and the new Avengers headquarters, he would’ve been blown away. But for now he was just very impressed. Adrien lived in a whole mansion, complete with a fence around the property and an iron wrought gate.

“Dude, are you rich?” He asked Adrien as a massive butler came out to help carry in Peter’s suitcase.

“We’re comfortable,” Adrien responded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s something only a super rich guy would say,” Peter laughed. “I’ve got it,” he said to the straining bodyguard, lifting his own suitcase with ease. He may not show it off often, but his super strength was definitely there and working.

“I’m not super rich,” Adrien said mock-defensively. “Saying that makes me sound like…I don’t know.”

“Like I douche, yeah, I get it,” Peter said.

“A shower?”

“What?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adrien said, holding the door open for Peter.

“Thanks man, I- woah!” The Agreste house was like a museum. Everything was a light grey, smooth and ornate. A staircase that split into two was across from the doorway, and two wings on either side of the main floor lead off into different rooms, all with closed doors. Where the two staircases met into a landing stood a giant photo of a rather unhappy looking Adrien and a man with pale hair and a pointed jaw that Peter could only assume was Gabriel Agreste himself.

“Adrien, show Peter where he’ll be staying while I have the chef prepare dinner,” Nathalie said curtly.

“Alright, your room is up here,” Adrien said, leading him up the stairs and to the right. “Mine is right next door.”

Peter’s guest room was easily the size of the entire apartment he shared with May. Giant windows stretched along the furthest wall, letting in as much light as possible. A few plants decorated the space, with a computer setup opposite the windows that was composed of three monitors, two keyboards, and what looked like some wicked gaming equipment.

Even the room was two stories, with a sort of loft, his bed nestled in a corner with a flatscreen tv mounted across from it. Encyclopedias and classic literature adorned the bookshelves that lined the walls, and Peter couldn’t be more in heaven.

“Make it home,” Adrien said. “You’ll be here for the better part of a year, and my father isn’t big on excursions, so I think you’ll be spending a lot of time here.”

“Adrien, this is literally the most amazing place ever.” Peter parked his suitcase by the bed and flopped down on it. King sized, with memory foam mattress and the comfiest down comforter he’d ever felt.

“The bathroom is on the main level, it’s got a tub and a walk in shower,” Adrien explained, walking to another part of the loft that wrapped the corner of the room. “We got you an open closet sort of theme, so it’s got this bar here you hang things, some drawers…”

Adrien was walking Peter through the room, but all Peter could focus on was how goddamn comfy his bed was. Did he really have to suit up that night? He couldn’t remember the last time he had a full night’s sleep.

“Want to see my room?” Adrien’s question was probably the only thing that could have roused Peter from his place on the bed.

“Sure,” Peter said, quickly stashing his backpack in the corner. Preferably, he would’ve changed into his suit and kept it on under his clothes, but he didn’t want to act suspicious on his first night there.

Adrien’s room was somehow bigger than Peter’s, with a skateboard ramp, basketball net, piano, television, walls and walls of books and movies and generally everything Peter could ever want.

“If I lived here, I’d never set foot outside again.” Peter put his hands on his hips, staring out at the Paris skyline below him, shown in all its glory through Adrien’s window wall, the same as the one in Peter’s new crib.

“That makes one of us,” Adrien took a seat on his couch, looking past the tv and out the windows as well. “I spent all my life in this house, and when I wasn’t being kept here, I was modelling for my dad. It’s the life millions of kids would kill for, but it’s missing something, you know?”

And Peter did know. That ‘something’ was the same reason he always put on the spider suit. That ‘something’ was the reason he did what no one else in their right mind would dare do. That ‘something’ was larger than oneself, the desire to be a part of the bigger picture. Adrien had had a dream life with no school, but he’d also been incredibly lonely, Peter could tell.

His attention was captivated by another large photo, this time of a younger Adrien and a beautiful woman. She looked delicate, slender, more like Adrien. Peter didn’t realize he’d crossed the room to stare at the frame that hung on the wall until Adrien was beside him, also staring up.

“My mother,” he said by means of explanation. “She died two years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said softly. “I know the feeling. Both my parents died when I was young. I lived with my aunt and uncle, but then my uncle died too. That one was my fault.”

He felt a light hand on his shoulder, and he glanced at Adrien, only to see his green eyes swimming with tears. “I’m sure it’s not your fault.”

“I said I was going to be somewhere, and he went to pick me up and I wasn’t there, because I was an idiot back then, I still am, and there was an accident and…he died. And I couldn’t save him.” Peter had to hold back his own tears. He wasn’t sure why he was telling this to a boy he had only just met. He’d never talked about Uncle Ben’s death to anyone. Not even Ned.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “You really didn’t need to hear all that. I wasn’t trying to one-up you or anything.”

“It’s good to talk about these things,” Adrien said, his voice laced with sympathy. “My mom got really sick, and the doctors couldn’t tell us why, but you could tell she wasn’t really there anymore. So when she did die, it was kind of like she was just going to sleep. We were all prepared for it. But my dad still doesn’t really go out much, and he’s very protective over me. I’m surprised he even let you stay here.”

Peter shrugged. “He probably wants to keep all the American shenanigans under his roof where he can keep an eye on it. I respect that. Is that a mini-fridge?” He allowed himself to be distracted from their shared trauma bonding, bending down to see what kind of drinks Adrien kept in his room.

“Cheese?” He turned around, holding up a small wedge.

“Yeah, it’s Camembert.” Adrien was suddenly looking anywhere but directly at Peter. “It’s a French thing, you know? Cheese is very good for the soul.”

“You’re going to have to get me on that,” Peter said, closing the mini-fridge and throwing the wedge into his mouth all in one go. “I want to learn all about French traditions.”

The cheese was one of the most disgusting things Peter had ever tasted. He was used to highly processed pizza cheese. This cheese was a texture Peter could only associate with a wet slug and it was not boding well. A very soft slug.

Just as he was prepared to throw up on Adrien’s rug, Nathalie came to save the day.

“Wash up for supper, boys,” was all she said before exiting the room once more, her posture as perfect as ever.

“I’ll go change out of my travel clothes,” Peter said, gesturing to the door. “Will M. Agreste be joining us for dinner?”

“Probably not,” Adrien said. “Usually it’s just me. I don’t think he’ll make a special appearance for you, unfortunately.”

“Nah, it’s cool. He seems low key scary.”

Adrien laughed. A real, genuine laugh. Peter hadn’t thought he would be capable of making that sound, but it warmed his heart to hear it. Adrien seemed like such a nice guy who had a really sad past, but Peter vowed to make sure his future was brighter.

Naturally as soon as he got back to his room he threw his suit on under a hoodie and jeans. As soon as dinner was done, he was planning on using the jet lag as an excuse to go to bed early, and that way he could get his exploring out of the way and get a good night’s sleep before the first day of school.

Dinner was some sort of rich people diet food, the main feature being quinoa. Just as Adrien had predicted, it was only the two of them, sitting at one end of a table that seemed much longer the more you focused on the empty chair at the end.

“This would be better with some bread,” Peter said, taking another swig of milk in attempt to wash down the tiny bits that stuck to his throat.

“I’m not allowed carbs; model’s diet,” Adrien said glumly, before leaning in and dropping his voice to a whisper. “But my friend’s parents own a bakery, and we can go there at lunch tomorrow and get the best bread you’ll ever have.”

“Promise?” Peter said.

“Promise.”

Throughout dinner, Adrien asked Peter questions about America, the school system there, and the Stark internship.

“Did you ever meet Spiderman?” That was the question Peter had been waiting for. It didn’t even catch him off guard.

“Yeah, he’s really nice. Really humble guy. Super strong too. Everyone wants to be like him. I mean, he’s not entirely based in New York, he’s been seen all over the world, so he’s a big shot now, I guess.” Peter resisted tooting his own horn too much, but also why not exaggerate a tiny bit? What would Adrien know about superheroes? Plus he had to make a believable reason as to why Spiderman was suddenly in Paris at the same time as him.

“That reminds me,” Peter said, setting his fork down. “Mr- My aunt said you guys have your own superheroes here too?” He quickly glossed over his slip up, instead giving Adrien his undivided attention.

“Yeah, we’ve got Ladybug and Chat Noir, they’re our version of the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman, except there’s two of them and they weren’t bitten by a radioactive spider. They just have magic powers. I don’t know too much about it, but I just know they protect Paris from the bad guys. And Ladybug is literally amazing.” Adrien’s eyes got dreamy and Peter had to cough slightly to bring him back to the present.

“Sounds fun! Not to be a bad guest, but I’m feeling very jet lagged, super tired, and I think I should go to bed now!”  Peter stood up quickly, having noticed it was getting dark outside.

“Uh, yeah! I’ll come wake you up tomorrow morning for school,” Adrien said, also standing. “I usually go to my room right after dinner anyways. If you need anything, you know where to find me!”

“Haha, yep.” Peter practically raced to his room, closing the door softly and pulling his outer clothes off.

The slight breeze that travelled through his suit and over his skin was a feeling Peter would never get tired of. The suit he’d brought was one he’d designed himself on Tony’s machines, and he couldn’t help but feel it gave it a more personal, understated touch. Sure the Iron Spider suit had been a dream, but it had also been so flashy, straying further from Peter’s roots.

He pulled tapped his wrist and his mask grew over his face, changing the way he could see the room, summaries of all the books popping into his vision, materials of the furniture, dollar signs, and Peter thought all of it away.

“First things first,” He whispered, stepping over to the computers. “Karen, any way we can project my desktop onto these guys?”

 “Yes, Peter. I’ll get started on that,” his suit replied.

“Perfect. Second, I’m going to need you to be my translator tonight. Just, whenever I’m in the suit here. Can’t risk sounding too American.”

“Of course.”

“And third, it’s time to get acquainted with Paris.”

He walked over to the massive windows, all divided into their smaller segments, and carefully unlatched one, swinging it open. He didn’t have any qualms about swinging through Paris. He was surrounded by buildings, just like New York. It would be easy; same routine, just different setting.

Peter’s room was higher up than he’d expected, so the first swing was like a free fall that left his stomach back at the top. He would’ve cheered if he wasn’t at risk of being caught.

His obvious first stop was the Eiffel Tower, but at eight pm it was still busy and bustling with tourists, so he quickly vetoed that idea, instead finding a section of roofing where he could sit and admire it from afar. It was so peaceful up there, so far beyond the rest of civilization yet so close to it. There was a family below him, presumably, living their life without a care that he was on their roof, enjoying a kind of peace only a superhero knows how to appreciate.

That was, until he was disturbed.

“My Lady?” A male voice, and then a figure landed beside him. Peter turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Adrien Agreste, hair parted down the middle and messy, in a leather catsuit. His suit was obviously less tech-influenced than Peter’s, as his primary weapon seemed to be a metal baton, and the only thing protecting his identity was a black mask that covered the space around his eyes. The most absurd thing was the shiny bell at the top of Adrien’s skintight suit just under his chin. Peter had to resist the urge to reach out and ring it.

They both flinched in unison, and Peter was the first to recover. He realized that although he could easily tell this was Adrien, Adrien did not know that Peter was Spiderman. And he didn’t plan on letting him know.

“You must be Chat Noir.” It was odd saying one thing and hearing his own voice repeat it back in French, but here he was. Peter Parker was useless at French. That was one more thing securing his identity.

“And you’re Spiderman! I’m sorry, it’s just from far away you look a lot like-” Peter didn’t get to find out who he looked a lot like, although he suspected it was the owner of the polka dotted yoyo that had just wrapped itself around his waist.

“Back away from him, akuma!” A high-pitched voice called out before a girl dressed in a suit that was somehow even more form-fitting than Chat’s landed beside him. She was about Peter’s height, with two black ponytails and a red-with-black-polka-dots ensemble.

“Ladybug, he’s not akumatized, he’s Spiderman!” Peter didn’t know if Adrien was always this excited in costume or just really happy he was there, but nonetheless he found his energy infectious. Never mind the fact he had no idea what they were talking about.

“Spiderman?” She sounded dubious, peering at Peter from behind her small mask. “Prove it.”

“Uh…,” Peter looked to Chat for some kind of instruction. He just shrugged. “What kind of demonstration do you want?”

“You can swing from webs, can’t you?”

Peter sighed, standing up and firing a stream out, grabbing onto the end of it and swinging off the building before releasing his hold and doing a backflip, landing right back where he’d started.

“That’s so cool!” Chat Noir leaned against his metal baton, peering at Peter with adoring eyes. It was weird seeing Adrien’s face emoting so much. The boy in designer clothes had seemed much more reserved, borderline shy; the complete opposite of the superhero with a leather belt for a tail that stood in front of him now.

Ladybug seemed to have more on her mind, though, and Peter had to admit it did seem suspicious, having him suddenly appear in a previously Avenger-less city. “Aren’t you a part of the Avengers? Why are you here.” Peter gulped as she took a step closer, sizing him up.

“My Lady,” Chat said, baton disappearing behind him as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t interrogation time. Spiderman is a hero, like us.”

“No, it’s fine,” Peter insisted, taking a seat on the cool roof. “Iron Man sent me. He’d heard you guys were having a lot of attacks and whatnot, and so he just kind of sent me to check in, see how it’s going. Plus, we’ve finally got one of his science and tech guys here for the next year, so I can hang out here and he can fix my suit if anything happens to it.” He smiled, before remembering they couldn’t really see it under his mask, so he did a thumbs-up instead.

“Well, we’ve got everything under control, so we don’t really need you here,” Ladybug crossed her arms over her chest.

“My Lady? Can I talk to you for a moment?” Chat Noir pulled her aside, and Peter couldn’t help but hear snippets of what they were saying, his hearing accentuated so the translator could pick everything up.

“Listen, Spiderman is a powerful ally to have. He could help us a lot against the Papillon.” It made Peter’s heart swell to hear Adrien defending him like that.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that he just…I don’t know. Showed up here? You know how the Avengers are, next thing you know they’re going to be fighting aliens in the middle of the city.” She had a point there.

“Spiderman’s not like that, you and I both know that. Plus, you brought all those people onto the team, like Rena Rouge, Carapace, you know. Count Spiderman as my contribution to the team. I’ll vouch for him to Master Fu, if I have to.”

This piqued Peter’s curiosity. Just how many superheroes were there in Paris? And who was Master Fu?

“Fine, chaton. But if he starts impeding on our ability to do our job, it’ll be your problem to deal with.”

“Have I ever let you down, Buginette?”

“Don’t call me that.” Ladybug was still rolling her eyes as the two of them walked back over to Peter who was doing his very best to pretend he hadn’t been listening to their entire conversation.

“Okay Spiderman,” Ladybug took a spot next to him on the roof, Chat following in suit. “We’ll do our best to sum everything up for you nice and neatly here.”

“Welcome to the team!” Chat beamed at him. “I managed to sway her using my irresistible charm.” He shot Peter a wink, green eyes sparkling.

“What sort of ‘team’ are we talking about?” Peter glanced between them. “Like, just the two of you or…?”

“Just the two of us,” Ladybug said. “There are others who help us from time to time, but you don’t have to worry about that. I supposed we should start by explaining how our powers work.”

“That might be helpful,” Peter mused. “I’ll start, just to get mine out there. I have a feeling ours are a bit different. I was bitten by a spider, its DNA fused with mine, I got spider-like powers. No, I can’t control spiders, but I’m very…sticky? And I have a sort of sixth sense that helps with psychological awareness, sensing danger, all that. And to top it all off, I’ve got this sick suit with like a million different abilities, so there’s that.”

Chat Noir was gazing at him like he was their lord and saviour. “That’s literally the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard. Like, ever.”

“Our powers work differently,” Ladybug said, refusing to be captivated by Peter’s coolness. “We have our miraculous, which is special jewellery that house our kwamis, who are eons old magical beings. Our kwamis are what transform us and allow us to harness their powers; Chat Noir’s powers and mine go hand in hand, creation and destruction. Since our kwamis make up our suits and our powers but are still living, they get tired after doing magic, so usually after preforming our powers we detransform within five minutes.”

“Dang, that’s inconvenient,” Peter said before he could catch himself.

“It helps us not to overuse them,” Ladybug said with a small smile. “We keep our identities secret, even from each other, and we respect that boundary, so often one of us will distract the enemy while the other goes and feeds their kwami until they’re ready to transform again.”

“I’m going to guess that your miraculous is your earrings, and Chat Noir’s is his ring?” It was a safe guess. Neither of them were wearing any other jewellery, and Peter had noticed the large silver ring on Adrien’s hand earlier. Only now it was black, with a green paw print in the middle.

“Fast learner,” Chat said, leaning back to look up at the night sky. “If they get knocked off or taken, we detransform immediately. We keep them on our person at all times so they can’t get stolen behind our backs, and because our kwamis provide emotional support when they’re not working.” He laughed and Peter wondered what kind of emotional support an old magic being could provide. Maybe like Thor? Although Peter had never seen Thor as the sort to go to with his trivial problems.

“We’ll explain more next time,” Ladybug said, standing suddenly. “It’s getting late, and Chat and I have school tomorrow. We usually meet up for patrol on both weekends, as well as Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, unless there’s an attack during the day. If there’s an attack, sometimes we skip patrol. It depends.”

“We usually meet in this spot, too,” Chat said. “Which is why I mistook you for Ladybug at first. You’re both just so gorgeous.”

“Chat, can you do me a favour?” Ladybug asked.

“Anything for My Lady.”

“Shut up.”

Peter shoved his laugh back down before it could come bubbling up at the sight of Chat’s disgruntled expression.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he promised them. “Thanks for welcoming me to the team, guys. It’ll be good to have some superhero friends my own age.” He bid them goodnight, shooting off back to the Agreste mansion before Adrien could beat him to it.

Peter got ready for bed in record time, locking his suit back up in its briefcase and sliding under the covers on his bed with a sigh, sinking into the mountain of pillows. He could finally fall asleep without a care in the world, and he didn’t even notice as Adrien mistook the open window for the window of his own room, touching down and detransforming before realizing his mistake. Even if Peter had been conscious, it wouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, Chat Noir didn’t really look that different from model Adrien Agreste, and he supposed if it wasn’t for the difference in their personalities, more people would’ve caught onto the identity of the man behind the mask.

“Time to get up, Peter.” Adrien’s soft voice floated into Peter’s dreams, completely ruining the ongoing storyline and bringing him back to a reality where he would have to leave his glorious bed at some point in the very near future.

“I’ve decided I’ve surpassed the need for school,” Peter mumbled, pressing his face into his pillow harder, as if that would cause Adrien to disappear.

“If you drop out, you’ll have to go back home,” Adrien gently reminded him, before switching to French and Peter rolled over with a groan.

“Moi, je pas parle le French.” He sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Adrien laughed, before saying something more that Peter didn’t quite understand but he got the gist of. Adrien was asking him what he was going to wear that day.

Most of the clothes he’d packed were hoodies and sweatshirts with a few t-shirts, mostly preparing for the fall weather. He presented his still-packed suitcase for Adrien’s approval, and judging by the blond’s expression, he did not pass inspection.

“I’ll say this in English so you can understand,” Adrien said slowly. “You’re representing the Agreste brand in part by being here, and you want to go out in a shirt that says ‘find x here it is’ on it? And so much flannel.”

“I like my pun shirts,” Peter said defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re humorous.”

“No one is going to understand what they mean. You’ll just look dumb,” Adrien raised a slow eyebrow at Peter’s ‘I survived my trip to NYC <3’ shirt, the one he hadn’t thrown out since Tony had given it to him.

“Fair point, but I’m not really one for fashion.”

“Well, I am,” Adrien marched out of the room, coming back a few moments later with an armful of clothes. “Until we get your measurements you’ll have to wear my clothes. I’m a bit taller, but other than that we should fit about the same.”

Peter cast a quick glance at what Adrien was wearing, which seemed to be a hoodie and jeans awful similar to the ones he was telling Peter not to wear. White hoodie, black skinny jeans, and he hated to admit it probably did look a lot better on Adrien than it would on Peter.

“How about a black turtleneck with this warm brown oversized box cut t-shirt overtop?” Adrien was saying words, and they were in English, but Peter was simply not understanding. “A simple light wash tapered jean will tie the whole thing up nicely, don’t you think?”

“Uh, yeah man. Sure.” Peter didn’t argue. A turtleneck meant he would be able to slip his spidey suit on underneath. While it wasn’t a necessity it was still a good precaution to have. Especially for his first day at a new school.

He was surprised to see that the fit Adrien had given him wasn’t bad at all. It definitely wasn’t Peter’s usual sort of style, but after he’d showered in the biggest shower he’d seen in his life and used ample helpings of the various hair and skin products laying around, he was feeling luxurious. His Walmart boxers and socks seemed scratchy compared to the soft material of the rest of Adrien’s clothes, gliding over his suit like water.

The boy who looked back at him in the mirror looked sophisticated, in control. Peter had to flash himself a quick smile just to remind himself who he was underneath all the glamour.

“Our feet aren’t the same size,” Adrien said by means of greeting at breakfast. Peter looked at him quizzically as he sat down with his bowl of oatmeal. At least the chef had tried to spice it up a bit by adding cinnamon and fruit to it, but all it did was remind Peter how much he couldn’t wait to go to the bakery Adrien had been talking about. He was also relieved to see Adrien had his translator in again. If only Peter could give one to the whole class.

“Okay?”

“I can’t give you any of my shoes to wear.” Adrien seemed legitimately torn up about it.

“It’s fine, I’ve still got my converse. They go with anything.”

“Do they?” Adrien said it as politely as possible, passing it off as an actual question, but Peter still laughed at the slight jab.

“Probably not in your opinion, but they’ll do. It’s not the end of the world.”

Adrien looked like he thought it was the end of the world as Peter pulled on his converse. He had to admit they’d seen better days, but they still kept his feet covered. Plus, he’d spent ages breaking them in to his liking, even going so far as to keep rocks in them when he wasn’t wearing them.

“Those things look like they were beat within an inch of death and you revived them through some sort of satanic ritual,” Adrien said honestly.

“I’m ready to go,” Peter said, tucking his laces into the sides of the shoes. “I doubt anyone’s going to be inspecting my feet too closely.”

“Those kind of draw the eye,” Adrien bantered as he held the door. Peter could see the tiniest bit of Chat Noir shining through Adrien’s mask, just enough to make Peter wonder who the real Adrien was. Although he knew from experience that sometimes anonymity was the only time he could be his real self, protected by his mask. Maybe it was the same for Adrien.

The same sleek car that had picked him up from the airport was sitting at the bottom of the steps, Adrien’s gigantic bodyguard already behind the wheel.

“Dude, isn’t the school like a five minute walk away?” Peter still got in the car, but the back of his mind was nagging him about environmental conservation.

“My dad insists,” Adrien said glumly, and Peter could tell it wasn’t the first time someone had brought it up.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s a valid point,” Adrien stared out the window at the passing students all headed on their way to class.

“Anyone I should avoid? Or anyone I should try and make friends with?” Peter figured it was best to get it out of the way to begin with. Even though Adrien didn’t seem like he’d be the type to gossip, Peter could tell if he said to avoid someone, he should avoid them like the plague.

“There used to be one girl, named Lila who was just…not very nice,” Adrien said slowly. Peter got his drift. ‘Not very nice’ by Adrien’s standards = raging bitch. “But she’s gone now. She got sent to a reform school in Russia.”

“That sounds fun,” Peter mused.

“I’ll introduce you to my friends before class. Nino’s fun, he’s a DJ in his spare time. His sort-of girlfriend Alya is also really cool. Not one to lie to anyone.”

“I can’t wait to meet them.” Peter shot Adrien what he hoped was a friendly smile but it probably came out more as awkward.

“They’ll love you, I’m sure. Fair warning, though, they don’t really speak English. Like, at all.”

“And I don’t speak French like, at all. Good thing you’ve got my other translator,” Peter said, pointing to the small bud in Adrien’s ear. He wished he could have his suit’s translator, but it only worked if his mask was on. The smaller version he’d shared with Adrien the day before was only meant to work between the two of them.

“Don’t worry, we’ll sit together in class and I’ll help you,” Adrien smiled at him as they climbed out the car, headed towards the school. It was slightly smaller than Peter’s school, with fewer students milling around. There was a basketball instead of a courtyard in the middle, and it seemed to be the hangout spot before class.

“Adrien! Hey mec!” A boy in a red baseball cap, thick rimmed glasses and a worn blue t-shirt walked up to them, exchanging a handshake with Adrien. Unsure of what to do, Peter stood behind Adrien awkwardly, playing with the straps on his backpack.

“Nino, this is Peter, the American exchange student who swapped places with Max,” Adrien said, Peter’s translator allowing him to pick up on Adrien’s fast French. “He doesn’t speak much French yet, but we’ve got a shared translator that lets us understand each other, but it won’t work for you or the others. So, uh, speak slow.”

Nino did not seem capable of speaking slowly as he held out his hand for a fist bump, spouting off words Peter had never even heard of.

“Uh…,” he glanced at Adrien for help, and Adrien unhelpfully shrugged.

“He’s just saying he’s glad to have you here.”

“Toi aussi,” Peter said. “Je suis désolé, je seule comprends un peu?” He said the statement like a question, unsure of whether or not he’d even properly told Nino he had no idea what he was saying.

“C’est OK! Je ne parle pas l’anglais non plus!” Nino said. Peter just blinked at him, then at Adrien, letting out a nervous laugh before they were interrupted by the arrival of two girls.

“Okay,” Adrien said to Peter in English and it made Peter feel like they were whispering. Not because they were talking quietly, but because whatever Adrien was about to tell him would not be understood by the other members of the group. “That’s Alya Césaire, Nino’s not-really girlfriend, don’t mention it. And that’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the friend I was talking about whose parents own a bakery.”

Peter nodded, but he was too distracted by the fact that he’d definitely met Marinette before. Last night, actually. She seemed more shy in her civilian attire, and she was blushing as Adrien smiled at her, but there was no mistaking those ponytails and dazzling blue eyes. Marinette was Ladybug. And judging by the adoring look she was giving Adrien, she had no idea he was actually her superhero counterpart.

“This is going to be interesting,” Peter muttered.

“What?” Adrien said.

“Nothing.” Peter allowed himself to be introduced to Alya and Marinette, giving them both bright smiles.

Marinette said something to him, and Adrien seamlessly translated for him. “She likes your outfit.”

“Can you tell her thanks for me?”

“You can try,” Adrien said, stepping back from him a bit.

Peter most certainly did not want to try, but he gave it his best foot forwards, saying, “Merci, Adrien a choisi

“Good job, man!” Adrien clapped him on the back as the bell rung. “You’re getting the hang of it already.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way,” Peter mumbled as they joined the queue of students heading to class, all talking amongst themselves. He was feeling rather out of place and awkward in the unfamiliar environment, and he wouldn’t even be able to ask for help if him and Adrien got separated.

Like Adrien could read his mind, he pulled out his phone. “Let’s swap numbers in case something happens,” he said, handing Peter his top-of-the-line smartphone. Peter passed him his own significantly less pristine phone, punching his number into Adrien’s contacts.

“There you go,” Peter said, handing Adrien his phone back. “What’s our first class?”

“Madame Bustier’s class. She teaches everything except science and gym, so we spend most of our day there. Also, I’ll give Nino my translator so you two can talk. I can pretty much understand English now, I was just a bit rusty before.”

Peter wished he was only a bit rusty at French, not completely uneducated, but nodded along nonetheless as they entered the classroom. Instead of desks they had rows of tables with benches divided into two halves with an aisle down the middle, most of the spots already occupied by students. Nino was seated in the front row on the side closest to the door, in front of Marinette and Alya.

“This is where I usually sit,” Adrien said, sliding in. “I’ll give you the aisle seat. Normally it’s only two people per table, but I’m sure this is an exception.”

A red haired woman with kind eyes approached them, handing Peter a tablet and a stylus. “Welcome to my class, Mr. Parker. I’m Madame Bustier, and I’ll be your teacher.”

Peter breathed a small sigh of relief at her English abilities, impressed with the amount of people who seemed to have at least a baseline understanding of the language, and he felt bad for not knowing more French.

“We do all our work on the tablet,” Adrien said. “That way there’s no paper waste.”

“That’s awesome,” Peter said. “Thanks for having me, I’m not very good at French yet, so I’ll take whatever opportunity I can get to learn.”

Mme. Bustier smiled at him before going to adjust something on her desk at the front of the room.

“Qui êtes-vous?” A hand slammed itself down on the table in front of Peter and he flinched, turning to find the owner of the hand was a blond girl with a snobby expression.

Adrien calmly explained something to her in French, and Peter realized he’d already given the translator to Nino when he couldn’t understand any more of the explanation other than his name.

“That’s Chloe,” Nino leaned across the table to talk to Adrien as the girl returned to her place, satisfied with whatever Adrien had said to her. “She’s the daughter of the mayor and she has some sort of narcissistic personality disorder. Her and Adrien have been friends since they were kids, though, so he’s still nice to her for whatever reason.”

“I’m sitting right here!” Adrien said, repeating it in both French and English so both Nino and Peter could laugh.

Then a delicate hand tapped on Peter’s shoulder and he turned around to find Marinette leaning towards him, holding out her phone. It was open to the google translate app, and it read, “don’t let Chloe bother you, she has a habit of treating people like doormats”.

Peter raised an eyebrow at her, taking her phone and typing a quick response. “Don’t worry, she’s not the first bully I’ve ever faced.”

Marinette read his reply before shooting him a nod, apparently satisfied he wasn’t going to get stomped all over on his first day. He could see the similarities between her and her alter ego already, and he hadn’t even really had a proper conversation with her.

Madame Bustier was now addressing the class, and Peter could understand a good portion of it, a fact that boosted his ego considerably. She outlined their day plan, then gestured to Peter, explaining who he was. He gave a shy wave to the class, then realized she’d asked him a question and he had no idea what it was.

“Do you want to say a bit about yourself to the class?” Adrien whispered to him.

“Not really, but I’ll try,” Peter whispered back. “Uh, salut, je suis Peter Parker, j’habite Queens, New York, j’aime Star Wars et science, et je travaille pour Stark Industries?” He knew he’d messed up a fair bit and probably sounded like a small child learning to talk, but everyone in the class was nodding encouragingly. Everyone except Chloe, that was.

She was snickering, doing a poor attempt at hiding it behind her hand. Peter turned away with a sigh, staring down at his tablet screen as the lesson begun. At least he’d tried, hadn’t he?

They were reading Romeo and Juliet, a play Peter had read the year before for advanced English class, and he still remembered the story well enough to answer questions the teacher asked and have Adrien translate for him. However, no matter what he said, he could still see Chloe whispering snide remarks to the girl sitting next to her. He was trying not to let it get to him, but he knew he was probably way smarter than Chloe, yet here she was, mocking him for it. At least Flash had a few brain cells. Chloe was just wasting his time.

“Do you want me to say something?” Adrien whispered. “I can tell she’s bothering you and it’s not cool.”

“It’s fine. It’s just I know she’s not whispering compliments to that girl beside her. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much, but just give me a minute and it’ll be fine.” Peter aggressively poked his tablet with the stylus. “Once we get through this, we can go to the bakery and that’ll make up for everything.” He managed a smile, and Adrien reciprocated.

With every intent on just focusing on his work, Peter returned his attention once more to the small screen in front of him, blocking everything else out, including his spidey senses. Which is why he didn’t notice the small purple and black butterfly preparing to land on his stylus. And he didn’t register his classmates’ gasps before it was too late.