The Miraculous Spiderman Series

Peter had just hung up his phone conversation with Ned by the time he’d gotten to the front of the coffee line. His very English phone conversation had left him entirely unprepared for the French cashier that asked him what he wanted in a bored tone that suggested her day had been less than pleasant. And here was Peter to make it worse as everything he’d ever known about French went more or less out the window.

“Uh, est-ce que je peux aller? No, avoir? Voudrais?” Where was Adrien when he needed him? “Séance du photo,” Peter stumbled, brain doing cartwheels as the cashier stared at him blankly. “Merde.” That was one word he never forgot, no matter what. “Croissant, s’il vous plait.”

He hadn’t even wanted a croissant. He wanted coffee. Oh well. It was his own incompetence that found him sitting there, eating the punishment croissant that wasn’t nearly as good as Marinette’s parents’.

Those moments of solitude were welcomed by Peter. He was a social person, but even he needed moments to recharge. And when he wasn’t hanging out with Adrien, he was usually hanging out with Chat Noir, and so it was the same amount of socialization either way. So as he sat there, headphones in, tapping his foot along to songs reminiscent of the 2010’s, it was really the height of luxury. Not to mention that he was in Paris, one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

Marinette’s letter was burning a hole in his pocket. He wasn’t going to read it, just pull it out and look at it to fully get the vibes of a tortured lover in a Parisian café, you know, as one does. Adrien’s name was scrawled in cursive across the front of the envelope and Peter selected a sadder song, pretending he was the protagonist in some low-budget romance film, staring out the window. It was just starting to rain. Perfect. All the more ambience.

He didn’t even realize he was being spoken to until someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was the cashier from before. Hastily, Peter pulled his earphones out, looking up at her.

“Drugs?” She asked. Peter blinked.

“Uh, no thank you.”

“No, are you on drugs?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then stop acting like it.” And she walked away, leaving Peter very confused. He decided that was enough alone time for one week, possibly forever, and he was never interacting with anyone ever again unless Adrien was there. And in his embarrassment, he only had the simple yet powerful urge to leave and never come back. Maybe he could become a hermit, in the mountains, living alone and surviving off of rats and pine cones. Although it was a lovely thought, he settled with going to find Adrien, even if it meant walking in the rain.

Peter hadn’t packed an umbrella for Paris because he had mistakenly only categorized the year by ‘hoodie weather’ and ‘t-shirt weather’ and he really hadn’t accounted for rainfall at all. So he let his hoodie get soaked through as he trudged to meet Adrien at his photo shoot. Surprise surprise, the photographer was wailing in frustration as Adrien’s glam team held an umbrella above his head.

“I simply cannot shoot in the rain! Blond hair in the rain! Not the vibe we want! The energy is off now, we will have to postpone.”

“A rain-check, quite literally,” Adrien laughed as Peter approached. No one seemed to find his quip funny. “Oh, hey Peter. Have fun at the café?”

“No,” Peter said. He was very much dripping wet as the heavens opened up above them. “A lady insinuated that I was on drugs. It wasn’t in my top ten experiences and that being said I’m never going anywhere without you again.”

“You look like a wet cat, did you not pack an umbrella?”

“Movies make it seem like Paris is always sunny unless someone is leaving on an airplane and the other is running to profess their love. Of course then they kiss in the rain and it’s a cinematic masterpiece, but that’s the only time it rains.” Peter waved his hand as his explanation tumbled out.

“By that logic, are we about to kiss right now?” Adrien teased, and Peter rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t want to mess up your lip gloss.”

“Of course not.” Adrien stepped out from under his umbrella, much to the disbelief and annoyance of the glam team. “I take it the photoshoot’s over?”

Adrien’s bodyguard was waiting on site to take them home, not looking too happy about two wet kids sitting on the custom leather seats, but he made no comment. Peter was beginning to think he never spoke.

“Oh, I have something I’m supposed to give you!” Peter reached into his pocket, pulling out the soaked envelope, placing the wet paper in Adrien’s hands.

“Peter, what is this.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of mild disgust.

“It’s a letter? From Marinette?”

“I literally don’t think this is readable,” Adrien held it up, inspecting it.

“Give it an hour on a vent, it’ll be good as new,” Peter said, bouncing in his seat, just wanting to be back at the house so he could change. His wet clothes were beginning to itch. “In other news, are you going to the dance?”

“Dance? What dance?” Adrien looked pointedly at his bodyguard, then back at Peter, who got the message.

“Dance? Noooooo I meant are you going to the dunce, it’s like this game show, where famous supermodels do…math problems,” Peter invented wildly. “Yeah, if that sounds real, are you going to it?”

“No,” Adrien said simply. But as soon as they were back in Peter’s room, Adrien grabbed his shoulders.

“We are going to that dance if it kills us, but I’ve got a plan. My dad won’t be here for three days, conveniently lining up with the dance. Nathalie is going with him on the business trip, so it’s you, me, the Gorilla.”

“Is that what we’re calling him now?”

“Shh. Anyways, we’re going to have Nino and maybe some others sleep over. It’ll be really fun, I promise.”

Peter looked at him skeptically as he peeled his hoodie off, grabbing a fresh sweater. “I can see that going wrong so fast.”

“It’ll be fine,” Adrien said confidently.

“Have you ever had a sleepover before? Cousins and present company excluded,” Peter asked, placing Marinette’s letter overtop the nearest vent.

“Uh, no,” Adrien admitted. “Not even with Felix.”

“Alright, something tells me you’re going to need serious help planning this and pulling it off,” Peter said. “So, the dance is Friday night. Your dad is gone which days?”

“Friday, Saturday, Sunday,” Adrien recited. “I already made a schedule.”

“A schedule,” Peter deadpanned.

“Yeah, lemme go get changed, I’ll wash my face, and then I’ll show you!” Adrien was like a kid at Christmas as he tore out of the room, leaving Peter to finish stripping out of his wet clothes. Peter didn’t need his spidey senses to tell him the said sleepover wasn’t going to go well, but he wasn’t about to deny Adrien his one chance at having his friends over.

“Okay!” Adrien had returned, a laminated schedule in hand. “So here we go. My dad leaves at precisely nine-thirty in the morning, which gives us plenty of time to get set up. There’s no school that day, so we can just spend the whole day getting ourselves ready as well as the place. Can I place you in charge of like, food?”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter said. “We should make a group chat for invites. Who else other than Nino are we thinking?”

“Alya, obviously, Marinette too, I guess. That’s good, right? Nothing too big.”

“We’re inviting the girls too?” Peter looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, why, is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no, invite the girls,” Peter said, typing their contacts into his phone, creating a group chat.

“I’ll set up sleeping arrangements, and you can sleep in my room, obviously, since everyone sleeps in one room at sleepovers.” Adrien squinted at his schedule. “Dance starts at six, so we’ll be ten minutes late.”

“Ten minutes?”

“To build anticipation. It’s some thing my parents used to say when we would actually leave the house. Anyhow, since you’re on food, I guess I’ll figure out entertainment. So we’ll come back here at nine, and that gives us lots of time to do whatever before we sleep.”

“You don’t actually sleep at a sleepover,” Peter pointed out. “Well, usually you go to bed at like four am. That’s just how it works.”

“Oh, okay,” Adrien made a note of this on his beloved schedule with a whiteboard marker. “So they don’t need beds?”

“They need something to sleep on, yeah, but they’ll bring them,” Peter said. “Okay, I just sent out a group text with the invites and asking them to let me know if they’ve got allergies. Should be good to go.”

“You’re the best,” Adrien grinned at him. “This is going to be so much fun!”

“Let’s see how your letter is doing,” Peter commented, reaching for the envelope. It was mostly dry now. “Why’d she use ink? Now it’s all smudged.”

Adrien unfolded the letter, trying to make sense of the smeared writing. After a few minutes, he gave up, handing it to Peter. “I can’t read it.”

“Neither can I. Maybe just call her and ask what it said?”

“That’s genius! Then I can give her my reply in person! Well not in person, but you know what I mean,” he said, pulling his phone out and FaceTiming her. Marinette picked up on the first ring, her face filling the screen and then suddenly the picture went tumbling, along with a little shriek.

“S-sorry,” she came back into focus. “I dropped my phone.”

“Hey Marinette!” Adrien said cheerfully. “I’m here with Peter!” He turned his phone so Marinette could see Peter, who was feeling like he’d rather not be there for the conversation.

“I gave him your letter, and I didn’t lose it,” Peter started his apology. “But I’m also kind of an idiot and it was raining and I had it in my pocket and not my bag and it got really wet and we can’t read it-”

“-so we were wondering what it said!” Adrien finished.  Marinette on the other end turned bright red. Like a tomato, Peter mused.

“Uh…” Poor Marinette was obviously floundering. “I don’t, I don’t remember! Haha!”

“How can you not remember?” Peter asked. “You wrote it down, didn’t you?”

“Oh! Right! I was just asking if you were going to the dance! But Peter’s text answered that, when he invited us all over for a, you know, sleepover! Which I’m really excited about, by the way!”

Peter’s mind switched gears as he remembered that food (aka the thing that could make or break the sleepover) was his problem. “Hey do your parents deliver like, food?”

“They can’t deliver it if I’m there!” Marinette shrieked, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “I already told them I was sleeping over at Alya’s. They’d kill me if they knew I was going to a boy’s house.”

“Even if I’m said boy?” Adrien asked, turning the camera back to himself. Whatever beat Marinette had going for her was all lost now as she saw his face again, blushing harder than before.

“Especially if you’re said boy!” Marinette hissed. “I have to go, I think Alya’s calling me.”

“That’s weird,” Peter said, his own phone buzzing. “Cuz Alya is currently calling me. Unless she’s got two phones…?”

“You really wrote me a whole letter just to ask if I was going to the dance?” Adrien asked Marinette, a confused expression on his face. “You could’ve just asked me that in person or over text. I don’t bite.” He gave her a grin that was almost Chat Noir-esque, and Peter could see Marinette gulp on the other end.

“My wifi’s down! Sorry!” Marinette squeaked, ending the call.

“Sorry Adri, I gotta take this call from one half of your father,” Peter said, answering the phone. “Agreste parental unit here, how may I be of assistance?”

“Oh my god Peter, you gave me a heart attack, I thought I’d accidentally called Gabriel Agreste,” Alya said after a moment of silence. “If it weren’t for the bad accent, I’d have hung up right then and there.”

“Sorry, not all of us are born being able to make an ‘r’ sound like a weird ass purr,” Peter sassed, looking pointedly between Adrien and the door. Adrien didn’t seem to get the hint, just shrugging at him. “Adrien I’m trying to plan something with Alya. Scheming, if you will. I’ll need you to leave the room for a few minutes, okay?”

Adrien rolled his eyes, exiting the room with an overly dramatic sigh. “Are we alone?” Alya asked on the other end.

“Yeah, I’m assuming you’re calling about your little scheme to get Adrien and Marinette together.”

“You know about it?”

“Honey I’ve been continuing that scheme right here at home with our son,” Peter flopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Trust me I want nothing more than for Adrien to get a girl so he can stop pining over-” He stopped himself before he could reveal too much information. Alya knew Adrien was interested in Ladybug, but Peter wasn’t about to expose just how interested he was. “-stop hanging around here doing nothing all the time! That’s what I was going to say, sorry, I’m still struggling with the whole bilingual thing,” he lied quickly.

“So you think they would be a cute couple?” Alya sounded excited.

“Sure,” Peter waved his hand in the air in a non-committal gesture, despite the fact Alya couldn’t see him. “I’ll try and steer Adrien towards her, but I can’t promise he’ll automatically fall for her. You can take a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.”

“What? Just hype her up a lot, get him thinking about her. Then, at the sleepover, I have a special little plan to get Marinette to lighten up.” Peter could practically hear her diabolical grin.

“Why do I have a feeling this is going to be objectively the worst idea ever?”  

“It’s only going to be bad if you make it bad, so do us all a favour Parker and don’t fuck it up.”

“Excuse me? If I make it bad? You’ve got lots of room for error yourself, Miss Césaire. For starters, don’t tell Marinette what we’re planning, and I won’t tell Adrien. It’s best to keep them both in the dark.”

“Fine, we’ll keep everyone in the dark. I’m trusting you with this one.”

“I’ll make you regret it somehow, I’m sure,” Peter sighed. “Later, Alya.” He hung up and just stared at his ceiling. The croissant from earlier wasn’t sitting right in his stomach and he used that as an excuse to avoid starting his research for the perfect sleepover food.

They had patrol scheduled for that night, but Peter had the overwhelming urge to suit up and go exploring. He sent a quick text off to Adrien, explaining he wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be at dinner and just wanted to lie down. Dismissing the other boy’s concerns, Peter carefully opened his window, engaging his webshooters before leaping out.

He caught himself before he could hit the ground, webs zipping out and pulling him away from the mansion. It was exhilarating, feeling the wind on his face, whipping through his sweater before he called on Karen, completing his transformation into Spiderman.

The red and blue hero sat atop a roof, watching as the sun slowly began its descent towards the horizon. Cars zipped by below him, people heading home after a long day of work, on their way to see their families. He was glad it had stopped raining, at least in that moment, allowing him to fully enjoy the ambience the city provided. Peter hadn’t been in France for long, but already it felt familiar, like a warm hug. It was his playground, there was nowhere he couldn’t go. New York had always been shrouded in mystery, with a sort of darkness that he saw every time he fought another bad guy. But Paris was light and beautiful and fighting akumas only made him realize how much good was left in humanity.

And here he could never truly be alone, not with his friends by his side. Both in superhero form and out of it, he had two brave human beings with him whenever he needed it.

Simply because he felt like it, Peter took off at a jog, running along the rooftops. The television station was in sight, a huge skyscraper that stretched well above the tops of the homes and buildings surrounding it. Picking up his pace, Peter reached the end of the rooftops, propelling himself into the air. It was an impossible leap for any normal human, but a mere skip for Spiderman as he landed atop the skyscraper, breathing out as he walked to the edge to survey his domain from a new perspective.

The sun was nearing the end of its journey, setting the sky on fire with hues of red and orange, bathing everything in a glow like the city had been painted gold. It was a kingdom in its own.

“This is why they fight so hard to protect it,” Peter said aloud, his words shrouded in awe.

“Protect what?” Karen’s measured reply came in his ear.

“Paris. The people. It’s so beautiful, so peaceful. That’s why Ladybug and Chat Noir take on all that responsibility. There’s really nothing like it.”

Peter backed away from the edge of the building before running back towards it, not stopping at the ledge but leaping over it, allowing himself to free-fall towards the ground. It was exhilarating, kickstarting his adrenaline. Before he could become a bug squashed on the concrete below, Peter thrust out a web, gripping onto the nearest building and sending himself shooting upwards again, backing-flipping over the buildings below. He couldn’t hold back the cheer that ripped out of his throat as he frolicked. It was so freeing.

Spiderman continued like that; flipping and flying across the city, finally landing in the park just as nighttime crept upon them. Brushing himself off, he heard the telltale sounds of a yoyo and someone landing behind him. For how long Ladybug had been following him, Peter didn’t know, but didn’t turn to face her now, adjusting his webshooters as the offered a greeting. “Hello, Ladybug.”

“How did you hear me! I thought I was being sneaky,” she groaned, moving to stand in front of him. Only now did Peter glance up.

“I have sensory overload like, all the time. Everything is dialled up to the max, hearing included. You’re early for patrol.”

“I could say the same to you,” Ladybug offered. “I actually came to talk to you about something.”

“Come on, I thought you were going to talk to Chat and fix things,” Peter groaned, dragging a hand over his mask.

“I did, and we’re good now I think. This isn’t about that.” Okay, now she had his attention.

“So what’s the problem then?”

“I can’t tell you like, any of the details, so if that’s going to bother you then I won’t say anything.” Ladybug looked at him expectantly.

“Why would that bother me? It’s good to have boundaries. I know there are a lot of things us superheroes can’t share.”

“Okay, good! Because Chat sometimes gets weird about it, he seems to think it’s me not trusting him but that’s not it at all!”

“I thought this wasn’t about Chat,” Peter prompted, encouraging her to steer back to the original topic.

“Right, it’s not. Anyways, what would you do if, let’s say hypothetically, there was a sort of power you had access to, and it could change the outcome of all of this and you probably wouldn’t be able to defeat the Papillon without it, what would you do?”

“I’d take it. Wouldn’t you?”

“Okay, but then let’s say you couldn’t use that power, you had to give it to someone else, someone specific. But there’s a very good chance that said person could die or turn evil from the sheer power of it. So placing that person’s life in your hands, would you give them access to that power?”

Peter thought it over. He could piece together bits and pieces of what she was saying, the general gist of it. “Well, like my uncle used to say, ‘with great power comes great responsibility’. Us superheroes know that. You have a responsibility to do what is right for the greater good. It’s never about the individual.”

“Even if it turns the person bad?” Ladybug was looking at him with big eyes and Peter couldn’t help but feel he was becoming a bit of an undeserved mentor.

“If it turns the person bad, then that is their failure, not yours. No matter how hard you try, people are always going to die or turn bad or lose themselves. We are only as big as the choices we make, and if you take away the chance for them to choose for themselves, who’s to say what would have happened?”

“Great power,” Ladybug said, her expression morphing into something of steely resolve. “Thanks, Spiderman, I like that.”

“I’ve been thinking of making it a sort of catchphrase,” Peter spread his hands in the air. “Either that or just me screaming. I use the latter more often in daily conversation, you see.”

Ladybug laughed. “Where do you think that cat is at?”

“Probably taking a catnap somewhere. What do you say we get some bread or something? I didn’t have dinner and the Dupain-Cheng bakery is calling my name.” He winked at Ladybug who didn’t look too impressed.

“You can go into the bakery but I tend to avoid it. I don’t like to see my parents in my superhero identity, I always feel like I’m two seconds away from getting exposed.”

“Fineee, I’ll dip in there real quick. You text Chat and ask him where the heck he is.”

“I don’t have my phone,” Ladybug complained. I lose my purse when I transform.”

“Good god that’s so inconvenient,” Peter said as he strolled towards the bakery. “I mean, ever since I upgraded my suit, my clothes disappear too, so I guess I’m in the same boat. Or I would be if I didn’t have a literal computer built into the lining. Hey Karen, text Chat Noir and ask him where he is.” He pushed open the door, spinning around to grin at Marinette’s mom.

“Hi Madame Cheng! I was just wondering if it was too late to get some bread?” Peter gave her his most charming smile, which of course she couldn’t see.

“You’re Spiderman. As in Spiderman from the Avengers.” She gaped at him.

“Uh, yeah, I guess that’s me,” Peter cleared his throat. “Can I get some bread…?”

“Of course!” Mme. Cheng helped him with his order, acting almost a bit like Marinette around Adrien, Peter noted. Nonetheless, he was out the door with his bread within no time, rejoining Ladybug outside.

“Satisfied?” She asked as he removed his mouth masking.

“Extremely,” Peter replied around a mouthful of bread. “Ugh you just don’t get good bread like this at my house.”

“Why not?” Ladybug jumped on what she thought was a slip-up but was really just Peter’s way of leading her towards creating a false identity for Spiderman. He had to feed her small, personal tidbits to make her trust him, he could tell. He wasn’t Chat Noir, who she’d grown with as a duo. He was an outsider, and obviously she wouldn’t feel like she could trust him as easily, especially since he knew her identity. So Peter told her a small white lie.

“My brother is a fitness nut. No carbs, no added sugars, no preservatives, it’s like eating compost.”

“I mean, it seems to work, you look pretty strong,” Ladybug offered shyly. “Is your brother…like you?”

“Well, he’s my brother, so we share similar character traits as well as physical makeup- oh! You mean is he a superhero too? Nah, he’s just a regular guy. I was the one who got bit by a spider.”

“Yeah I’ve been meaning to ask; what was that like?”

“Oh, it was so cool! My whole body like, swelled up and-”

“Okay! I get the idea. Any word from Chat Noir?”

Peter checked with Karen, in case he’d somehow missed it. “Nope. Nothing at all. That’s not like him, is it?”

“No,” Ladybug shook her head. “Maybe things weren’t as good between us as I thought.”

“Or maybe he’s already suited up and is without his phone,” Peter pointed out. “Can’t you communicate with him via your yoyo or something?”

“Yeah, I can track him too!” She grabbed her yoyo, sliding it open before trying to call Chat. Surprisingly, he picked up.

“Hello My Lady!”

“Chat? Where have you been?”

“Doing patrols?”

“Why didn’t you come meet up with us first?” Ladybug looked genuinely hurt and Peter felt like he was intruding.

“I didn’t think I had to. It’s just patrols.” Chat replied casually.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Ladybug said. “But never mind, I guess. It’s not like communication is important.” She slid the yoyo shut slightly harder than Peter thought was warranted.

“Damn,” Peter said. “I thought that giving you guys the phones would help with communication, not ruin it.”

“I have no idea why he’s acting like this,” Ladybug said, placing her hands on her hips. “Sometimes he gets like this before press meetings, so I guess it would line up since we’ve got one tomorrow, but usually he comes around. He’s never really iced me out like this before, at least not for this long.”

Peter winced. “I’m really sorry, Ladybug. I really am. It’s obvious you care for him, maybe not the way you care for Adrien, but I know Chat is still really important to you, and I’m not going to lie, he’s acting kind of childish right now.” She didn’t ask how he knew she liked Adrien, and he didn’t elaborate, giving her the chance to form her own conclusions, but it didn’t even seem like she noticed.

“He always acts childish. Sometimes I think he doesn’t get enough attention at home. But you’re right; I do care for him. Which is why it annoys me so much when he shuts me out. How am I supposed to help him if he won’t talk to me!”

“I’ll try talking to him,” Peter offered. “I somehow feel like this is my fault for coming in here and disrupting your dynamic.”

“No, don’t say that,” Ladybug gave him a friendly shoulder pat. “You make a great addition to the team. If anything, I feel bad for piling all this on you. But speaking of being on the team and the press conference, do you want to come tomorrow? It’s at the city hall at eleven am sharp.”

“Sure, I’ll be there. I’ve done plenty a press conference in my day.” Peter wasn’t really a fan, per say, of press conferences, but after doing a couple hundred he’d finally figured out how not to lose his head every time a reporter asked him a question. Not that he usually had to answer them. Tony would often jump in and respond for him, saving Peter a lot of embarrassment. But for Ladybug and Chat Noir? He’d do his best.

“And I hate asking, but could you check on Chat for me? I thought we were good, but apparently not.”

“Of course, anytime. Goodnight Ladybug, I’ll probably head home after I talk to him.”

“Goodnight Spidey,” she said affectionately as he swung off into the night.

It took him precisely two minutes to find Chat, who wasn’t actually doing patrols. He was sitting on a bridge, balanced on the ledge and staring down at the water.

“Rough night kitty cat?” Peter asked, landing nimbly next to him. Chat’s cat ears were droopy, confirming Peter’s suspicions; they really did offer insight into the boy’s emotions. And he was currently feeling sad.

“I’m an idiot,” Chat wailed, burying his face in his hands. “I really didn’t mean to skip out on talking to her, it’s just I saw her standing there by the bakery, all by herself, and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to her alone.”

“She was waiting for me,” Peter explained. “And not going to lie, she seemed pretty hurt that you’re avoiding her.”

“I don’t mean to, I just don’t want to make her feel bad for existing again. I’m so worried about saying the wrong thing now. Usually I just flirt my way out of everything, but now I’m worried I’m overstepping or something and I just don’t know how to tell her that.”

Peter sighed. These two are so complicated. “You’re not overstepping. When you’re not your normal Chat self, that worries her. Just be yourself, whatever version you think is most genuine.”

“Thanks Spidey. You make everything seem so…simple.”

“I’m a simple guy. I’ve had enough complications for a lifetime. Now let’s go find Miss Ladybug so you two can get alright and dandy and that way I don’t have to be an awkward buffer between you two tomorrow at the conference.”

“You’re coming? Thank god.” Adrien hopped back onto solid ground, readying his baton. “I always say the wrong things at those. For some reason I literally can’t stay serious and I wind up annoying Ladybug. If you don’t believe me, the proof is only a short google search away.”

“Oh I believe you,” Peter laughed. “Now let’s go see your Lady.”

Ladybug yelped in surprise when the two of them landed in front of her, Chat sporting his usual cheeky grin, Spiderman looking as unreadable as always.

“We’re back! I know you missed me,” Chat spread his arms wide, as if looking for a hug. Ladybug smacked him in the chest.

“Grow up and use your big boy words if you’ve got a problem with me,” she huffed. “Don’t just run off like that.”

“My Lady, I love it when you lecture me,” Chat said, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Not to interrupt,” Peter purposefully interrupted. “But do you guys have a sort of outline you use at press conferences? Is there like a topic we’re supposed to be bringing to light?”

“Yeah, you,” Chat said pointedly. “We gotta introduce the third member of our team.”

“We usually just answer their questions,” Ladybug replied, fingers toying with her yoyo.

“You’re not supposed to actually answer questions at a press conference,” Peter said, recalling all the debriefs Tony had given him before almost every single event. “You answer their question with a question. That way they can’t take what you say out of context.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ladybug frowned. “That won’t give them any useful information.”

“No, but it allows us to control what questions we actually get asked,” Chat caught on. “That’s smart. You’re a smart guy, Spiderman.”

Ladybug’s miraculous beeped loudly, interrupting Peter’s thoughts. “That’s my cue to go,” she said sympathetically. “Chat, text me later. See you guys at eleven?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Chat said, waving as she left before turning to Peter with a look of absolute glee. “She asked me to text her!”

“You’re an idiot, Agreste, you know that?” Peter couldn’t help but laugh at the spacey expression on Chat’s face as he too, took his leave. “See you tomorrow!”

Peter swung through his bedroom window, landing on his bed as his suit dissolved around him. He could hear Adrien sneak in next door, obviously in a rush to text Ladybug.

Technically, Adrien has already fallen in love with Marinette. Only he doesn’t know it’s Marinette. But if we just ignore that, I’ve already upheld my end of the deal with Alya, Peter thought. Cuz there’s no way that Adrien is just going to switch over to Marinette like that. In fact, I think it’d be easier to make Marinette fall for Chat Noir. Now that was a thought and a half.

But I promised Alya I’d talk to Adrien about Marinette, Peter nagged himself. He won himself over, resolving to talk to Adrien about it at breakfast.

“What?” Adrien looked at Peter, oatmeal paused halfway to his mouth.

“I asked what you thought about Marinette,” Peter supplied.

“No, I heard you, I’m just wondering why you’re asking.” Adrien placed his spoon back down, an action that only spurred Peter further into the conversation.

“Well, you two seem to be pretty close, and she’s an attractive girl, so…?”

“You’re into Marinette?” Adrien asked and Peter facepalmed.

“No! I’m asking if you’re into Marinette.”

“Peter, you know I like-”

“Ladybug, yes, I know,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. Everyone here is so clueless, so stupid, she literally looks exactly the same.

“Marinette is just a really great friend,” Adrien said, resuming his eating. “Her and I have gotten closer lately, and it’s kind of nice.”

“Okay, but let’s just say that hypothetically someone came along and simply removed Ladybug from existence like she didn’t exist, you didn’t remember her, who would you like then?”

Adrien looked thoughtful. “It’s impossible to tell.”

No it’s not, you just have no braincells! Peter checked the time on his phone before he could lose his mind. They’d both slept in, and Peter currently had two hours before the press conference. Two hours to break this boy. Or, you know, plan out a menu for the sleepover.

“I’m thinking pizza,” Peter said once they were safely secured in Adrien’s room, away from eavesdroppers. “Pizza is a classic sleepover food. Popcorn, candies…dude I should set up a snack charcuterie board!”

“Yeah! I love charcuterie boards,” Adrien agreed enthusiastically. “We can get really good cheese for it too.”

“Not an actual charcuterie board, I’m talking like one with candy bars instead of ham, sour patch kids instead of cheese, that sort of thing.” Peter was writing a list down in his notes app. “I’ll go Friday morning to pick everything up from the grocery store. Should I order a fruit basket?”

“Sure? If that’s a thing that people do, then go for it.”

“Oh it’s definitely not, I just want a fruit basket.”

Peter politely excused himself with twenty minutes left on the clock, making up some half-assed excuse about needing to look on a website at fruit baskets. It was obviously a lie, he’d already made up his mind to get one of those edible arrangements with chocolate dipped strawberries, the mere notion of a fruit basket decidedly not grandiose enough. Adrien didn’t question it since he also had to sneak out, making up some lie about having homework to prevent Peter from coming back to his room whilst he was out on the town as Chat Noir.

It was crucial, however, that they didn’t leave at the same time. Peter turned on x-ray vision, watching Adrien pace around his room, muttering to the open air, before transforming and leaping away.

“He’s trying to make me late,” Peter, unimpressed, muttered under his breath as he watched Adrien disappear over the top of a building. “Karen, transform me.”

Within seconds he was swooping away, zooming towards the city hall as fast as he could. Both Ladybug and Chat Noir were perched atop the building, eyes anxiously scanning for Spiderman. And oh boy did he deliver.

Taking a quick detour, he skirted the perimeter so he could come up behind them, leaping high into the air before deploying his web wings, swooping down over their heads and doing a gentle flip to land.

“Since when do you have wings?” Chat stared as the web wings shrunk back into the suit.

“They’re not really wings. I’m like a flying squirrel,” Peter shrugged. “Ready to rock and roll?”

“A flying spider then,” Chat said. “Let’s do this.”

Together they walked to the edge of the building’s roof, looking down at the swarm of reporters below. It was a lot less than Peter was used to, to say the least.

“Oh this is nothing. When you said press conference, I was picturing like a sea of reporters all screaming at once. Well, let’s give them a show.” Peter didn’t give them a second to dwell on his statement, jumping off the roof and shooting a web out, just missing several reporter’s heads. As soon as his little swing show was finished, he flipped back over their heads, landing at the podium. Ladybug jumped down beside him, Chat Noir descending down his baton. The reporters excitedly snapped pictures, eyes wide in awe. Alya was in the front row, holding out her familiar phone with the ladybug charm. Peter made sure to angle his head towards her so she could get a good shot.

“Hello everyone!” Ladybug took the lead after a moment of waving and cheers, stepping up to the mic. “Thank you for coming out today. Before we open the floor to questions, Chat Noir and I have a very exciting announcement to make, the details of which I’m sure you can all guess.”

Chat joined her, sweeping an arm out to Peter. “This is Spiderman. If you don’t recognize him, he’s one of New York’s most famous superheroes, and lately he’s joined our team here in Paris.”

“Do you want to say anything?” Ladybug asked Peter. Really, he was good just to stand there, but he figured he might as well introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Spiderman, as Chat Noir so kindly said. I’m visiting in Paris for awhile to help in the battle against the Papillon, who I have learned has been terrorizing Paris for quite some time now. I’m really just here to say hi. If you see me swinging around, feel free to say hello, I love to chat. Anyways let’s hear those questions!” He pointed to Alya first, going for some familiar territory.

“Does this mean that the Papillon is an Avengers level threat?”

“What would you classify as an Avengers level threat?” Peter deflected with another question. “I’m not here on behalf of the Avengers, I’m just here to help out.” Technically he’d told Ladybug and Chat Noir that he was there at Mr. Stark’s urging, but that didn’t exactly mean he was there on Avengers business. Avoiding discrepancies was the way to go.

Ladybug pointed at another reporter, who asked, “how will this contribute to the future of superheroes in Paris? We know about Rena Rouge, Carapace, Queen Bee, as well as others whose names we don’t know, but they were never formally announced as members of your team. Why is Spiderman the first?”

“Spiderman’s powers are different than ours, and they give him an advantage when it comes to being available to fight akumas at any given moment. That is a very valuable resource to us, and we decided to introduce him so that you all know you can trust him just as much as you trust us.”

Reporters began calling out their questions and Peter did his best to call on them one by one, answering their questions politely and also quickly. His counterparts’ smiles never wavered, but their eyes were giving a silent plea for help.

“That will be all for today. Thank you for your questions and time,” Peter wrapped it up, giving the audience finger guns. “Catch you next time!” He backed away from the podium, shooting his web up to the town hall roof, pulling himself up up and away. He’d barely gotten back to his room by the time Ladybug’s text scrolled across his vision.

[ That wasn’t a total disaster ]

[ Thanks Spidey ]

[ I tend to try and avoid total disasters ]

[ I’ve been told that public meltdowns are unseemly ]

That was one event done, one to go, the threat of Adrien’s sleepover and the autumn dance still looming on the horizon.

Friday came far too soon. An akuma attack on both Tuesday and Wednesday only seemed to speed the week up and suddenly it was Friday morning. It seemed like Ladybug and Chat Noir had put their differences aside for now, their usual dynamic returning at full swing. It was a huge relief for Peter, though he didn’t tell anyone. Who would he even tell?

Adrien was a ball of energy as they watched his father leave, peeking through Peter’s bedroom door. Both him and Nathalie stepped out the door, just as Adrien had planned, leaving only the poor Gorilla to take care of the mischievous Agreste offspring.

“FREEDOM!” Adrien yelled in victory, punching his fist in the air.

“Wait until the car’s at least out the gate before you say that,” Peter said dryly.

“Good point,” Adrien said, peeking out the door once again. “Okay, they’re gone. FREEDOM!” He recreated his previous action.

“I should warn you, I’m not good at these school dance things.” Peter cleaned off his shoes with a tissue, restoring their shine. The Doc Martens Adrien had gotten him were still the nicest shoes he owned, so they were the natural choice to wear with his hand-me-down suit.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Adrien looked down at creased suit. “Actually, don’t answer that. You’re not wearing that. I can already tell that the shoulder seam is going to be like, halfway down your arm.”

“It’s too late to go shopping,” Peter whined. “Plus, there’s no point blowing a bunch of money on a suit I’m only going to wear once.”

“We’re not going shopping,” Adrien said, pulling out his phone with a wink. “We’re bringing the shopping to us. Hello, Tommy? Yes, it’s Adrien Agreste. I need a suit for a friend for tonight. Would you be able to send some of your team over? Great, thanks.”

“Tommy?”

“Tom Ford. I’d wear his suits if I didn’t have to wear Agreste label,” Adrien grinned. “We’re going to get you some new threads.”

After feeling like his personal space had been thoroughly violated by a team of tailors in Adrien’s foyer, Peter was dressed in a suit that’s price tag resided somewhere in the five figures.

“Adrien, this is too much,” Peter hissed.

“It’s free for me,” Adrien waved a hand dismissively. “He owed me a favour. Anyways, it comes with a cologne sample!”

Peter shook his head at him as Adrien said his goodbyes to the tailors. He had to admit, it was one of the nicest things he owned, right behind the spidey suit. He’d had to tuck his necklace away under his pillow, lest one of the tailors notice it and ask questions. As soon as Adrien’s back was turned, he ran to retrieve it, tucking it back under his collar.

“You don’t have to wear that until the dance,” Adrien laughed. “You can go change.”

“It’s so close to my body I feel like I’m going to rip all the seams out the second I try.”

“It’s not tight, it’s just properly tailored. Unlike your sweaters, hoodies, shirts, that god awful other suit you had with you-”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Moneybags,” Peter sniffed. “I believe I have heard enough from the boy who doesn’t even know how to plan a sleepover.” Nevertheless he changed back into his regular clothes, helping Adrien rearrange his room to fit the ‘beds’ Adrien seemed to think people were bringing.

“Someone can sleep on the couch,” Adrien said. “And I guess I’ll sleep on my bed?”

“Wrong,” Peter said. “Your bed is all the way over there, and we’re sleeping in this main area. You’re moving over here with us.”

“I don’t think we can fit everyone’s beds in just this space.”

“People aren’t bringing their beds, they’ll be bringing like, sleeping bags and blankets.”

Adrien stared at him blankly. “A bag? For sleeping? That doesn’t sound comfortable.”

“They’re padded…? Have you never been camping?” Apparently Adrien hadn’t been camping either. Peter was feeling increasingly bad for him and his evident lack of a childhood.

“We’ll let people fight it out over the couch, and everyone else will sleep in their sleeping bags on the floor,” Peter clarified. “I promise it’s more fun than it sounds. That way everyone can see the tv if we move it over here, and it’s just a fun time all around!”

Adrien nodded slowly. “So this will make it fun?”

“Yes,” Peter deadpanned. “Now if you excuse me, I have to go get several items from the supermarket. If the doorbell rings, answer it and put it in the fridge.”

“Put what in the fridge?”

“The box, it’ll say something on it about edible arrangements, I don’t really know, just put it in there so it stays fresh.”

And with that he left Adrien to his own devices, on his way to get as much candy as he could get his hands on. The French knew how to do sweets. He managed to fill an entire basket with candy, popcorn, and chips, loading it up on a till with a cashier who was 100% judging Peter’s life choices.

“I’ve got a sweet tooth,” he said, pulling out his school-issued charge card. “Put it all on here.”

Adrien’s eyes went wide when Peter returned, dumping his loot on the floor. “This is more candy than I eat in a year. Possibly two.”

“Well there was a bunch of candy on the shelves that I’d never seen before and I wanted to try. Like Régal’ad? Never heard of it, but I would love to become acquainted.” Peter looked at the orange package of chewy candies with longing. “But I have self control! So what are you, Adrien Agreste, supermodel extraordinaire, going to be wearing?”

Adrien grinned at him, tearing his eyes away from the candy. “Get ready, it’s a bit of a knockout.” He headed over to his closet, returning a few moments later with a full ensemble in his hands. A cropped pink jacket with gold accents and a black interior, a white button up shirt made of a thin yet undoubtedly expensive material, and heavy black dress pants, not a single crease in sight.

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked,” Peter said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I bow before you, Oh Fashion God.”

“As you should,” Adrien flaunted. “Pink is obviously my shade. Combined with the black, it’ll make these green eyes pop. Also your ‘edible arrangement’ came. I stuck it in the fridge.”

“Awesome, thanks,” Peter said, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed the room. “Now let’s get to setting up.”

They spent the next few hours cleaning and rearranging the space until it was in Peter’s ideal sleepover set-up. True to his word, he did indeed create a candy charcuterie board to the best of his abilities.

“That looks so cool,” Adrien marvelled at it.

“Yeah, don’t wreck it,” Peter warned, placing it carefully on the coffee table which had been moved to stand along the windows. “I take too much pride in my work for anything to happen to it.”

 “Yeah, well, it just has to stay safe for the next hour and then we’re at the dance,” Adrien said, checking the time, then double checking it. “We’ve only got an hour and we’ve still gotta get ready!”

“An hour is plenty of time,” Peter said, unfazed.

“Not when you’re me, it’s not! I’ve got to take a shower, fix my hair, do my full skin routine, get dressed, shine my shoes,” Adrien was running around, grabbing things.

“Okay you’re stressing me out now too,” Peter rolled his eyes. “I guess I’ll go do all of those things.” And he did. After a steaming, luxurious shower, Peter stood in front of the mirror, meticulously arranging all the hairs on his head. There wasn’t really anyone he was trying to impress, but watching himself transform from a boy to a handsome young man never got old for him. And his brand new Tom Ford suit only accented that transition.

“Looking good,” Peter said to himself in the mirror, letting out a low whistle before spraying a measured amount of the free cologne over himself. “And smelling good too.” He snapped a mirror selfie, sending it to Aunt May for approval before heading out to meet Adrien in the hallway.

“We leave as soon as the dance starts,” Adrien said. “That way we’re-”

“Precisely ten minutes late, I remember,” Peter replied. His friend looked truly stunning, like pink had been put into the world for him specifically to wear it. Everything was tailored for his slim yet fit form, the black pants resting slightly above his hipbones, accentuating his waist. “Now I can see why you’re a model.”

“Like you didn’t believe it before?” Adrien posed, jutting out a hip with a flash of his candy apple eyes. “Nah, I just own it when I want to. And right now, I want to own it.”

“We should get a picture before we have to go stand in some sweaty gymnasium,” Peter said. “Where’s your bodyguard?” He found the bodyguard easily, he was lurking in the foyer, playing with action figures of some sort.

“Hey Mr. Gorilla, can you take a picture of Adri and I?” The bodyguard looked at Peter’s suit suspiciously, raising one half of his prominent brow line. “We’re just going to the store, all dressed up, for a few hours. It’s good practicing for modelling, wearing the clothes in a casual environment. You’re cool with that, right?”

There was a heartbeat of Peter and the Gorilla staring at each other, both of their stares intent and calculating before the bodyguard gave in with a shrug, taking a few quick pictures of Adrien and Peter, the two boys posing like they were going to be on the next cover of Vogue.

“Sick, let’s go,” Peter said, taking his phone back and turning to the bodyguard. “We won’t need you to accompany us, I can beat you at an arm wrestle, so I’m sure I can protect Adrien just fine.” Once again, the Gorilla just shrugged, this time with an added grunt, returning to his dolls.

“I still don’t understand how you did that,” Adrien whispered as they walked swiftly out the door and down the steps.

“Like I told you, I have some special talents,” Peter said. “Now explain to me what one of your dances looks like, like what should I expect?”

“Well Nino often DJ’s for them,” Adrien said. “Other than that, I know literally nothing. This is my first school dance I’ve been allowed- well I guess not allowed- but been able to attend. I’m sure it’s going to be great!” He positively beamed, practically skipping his way to the school.

Peter followed, less certain about how great of a time it was going to be, already feeling uncomfortably warm in his fancy suit. There was so much that could go wrong. It was a social gathering, tensions would be running high, the perfect opportunity for an akumatization. But he was determined not to ruin Adrien’s good time, so he forced himself to calm down and enjoy it while it lasted.

The outside of the school was also decorated, to Peter’s surprise, the festivities were not limited to the gym. As they approached, the strings of light came into view, along with tables with punch and various snacks on them.

“Save your appetite,” Peter said. “I spent way too much money on candy for you to not be hungry once this is over.”

“I know social gathering etiquette,” Adrien replied, casually bumping Peter’s shoulder with his own as they headed inside. “Mingle first. Drinks come later. Fist fights are at the very end.”

“Sure,” Peter agreed mildly. “Hey, did you and Marinette plan to be matching?”

They weren’t technically matching. But it was enough that it looked intentional. Marinette was wearing a beautiful pink dress with a corset bodice, the boning of the corset covered with a shiny gold material, matching Adrien’s jacket with its gold accents. The skirt was simple, made of a thick fabric with a white tulle layer overtop. Her heels were gold, with a branch design that snaked its way up the side of her calf. Peter had to admit she looked stunning.

Adrien had yet to pick his jaw up off the floor.

“Uh, it wasn’t planned, I guess its just a happy accident?” Adrien suggested. The lighting in the gym was low, coloured lights that almost hid the entirety of Adrien’s blush. It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter.

“So, what do you think?” He prompted.

“I think she’s a great fashion designer, I mean look at that corset structure! It really suits her and it must have taken forever to sew.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Peter didn’t get to tell Adrien just how impossible he was, interrupted by Marinette and Alya joining them. Alya was wearing the very definition of a little black dress, showing off her admittedly stunning figure.

“Well don’t you boys look handsome?” Alya asked, eyes sweeping over the pair of them. Marinette seemed frozen in place, just staring at Adrien.

“Okay, they’re totally twinning right now, right?” Peter said, stepping back from Adrien to stand by Alya, gesturing between Marinette and the supermodel, pretending to look thoughtful.

“Yeah, totally. I see it.” Alya nodded along with him. “It’s like the picture perfect couple.”

“We’re…not…,” Marinette stammered. “Alya? Can I talk to you for a second?” She grabbed her friend’s arm, dragging her off into a sea of people.

“Let’s go find Nino,” Adrien suggested, raising his voice so he could be heard over the music. “He’ll be at the front.”

After plenty ‘excuse me’s and ‘oh sorry’s  they had successfully pushed themselves through the throng of dancing bodies, reaching Nino, who was wearing a pair of light-up glasses and seated in the DJ booth. They didn’t seem convenient for seeing, but the DJ wore an ear-to-ear grin as he fiddled with knobs on his soundboard.

“Hey dudes! Looking fly!” Nino yelled to them, the music significantly louder where he was standing.

“Hey Nino!” They returned the greeting.

“I’ll be out once things start to die down,” Nino informed them, laying down another track. “Say hi to the girls for me, and tell Alya I’ll be there for the first slow song.”

“Can we request songs?” Peter asked, hopping on up to Nino’s level. “Just out of curiosity.”

“No, not a chance. I’ve got the perfect playlist lined up,” Nino said, swatting Peter away. “And nothing is changing that.”

That night Peter learned that he could, in fact, request songs, after he proceeded to pester Nino after every song, requesting the same song over and over again until Nino finally got on the mic.

“This song goes out to Peter Parker, who has been requesting this song for the past hour. Please leave me alone now. Here’s Mr. Brightside, folks!”

Peter also learned that night that, although his classmates may be terrible at English, they knew almost all the words to Mr. Brightside, an apparently universally beloved song. Peter himself was jumping up and down in a circle around Alya, Marinette, and Adrien, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs with a fervour only matched by Alix who seemed to be enjoying the song just as much as him. The tiny girl was all the way across the gymnasium, but her voice carried.

“Destiny is calllingggg me!” Peter sang, gripping Adrien’s shoulders through his very expensive jacket. Adrien grinned, only spurring Peter on, causing him to grab Adrien and Alya’s hands, gesturing for Marinette to join. She did after a moments hesitation, completing the circle. Peter started pulling, spinning them around, picking up speed before Marinette lost her balance, sending them all tumbling down. Alya thudded to the ground a few feet away, having spun out, and Peter had nimbly caught himself before he could fall too hard. Marinette, however, had landed right on Adrien’s lap and they were now staring at each other, expressions of surprise mirrored on each other’s faces.

Before either made a move to get up, the lights dimmed, turning shades of pink and red as Nino’s promised slow song begun. Peter recognized it as a cover of Elvis Presley’s ‘I Can’t Help Falling In Love’.

Fitting, he thought, watching as Adrien moved Marinette off his lap, standing and offering his hand to her. She accepted it, her eyes still wide, and he pulled her towards him, one arm landing around her waist as they seamlessly transitioned into a waltz. Peter felt an arm grab him, something hard being thrust into his hand. He glanced down, unsurprised to see Alya’s phone as her and Nino twirled away, her message clear: take pictures. It felt creepy, to hold up a phone and take a picture, so Peter carefully (and quietly) had Karen deploy a singular Spiderman eye so that the suit would record the dance. He held a hand up to the suit, blocking his new red and white extremity from unwanted onlookers, hoping it wouldn’t obscure the scene unravelling before his very eyes.

It seemed Nino had lined up several slow songs, giving Marinette plenty of time to snap out of her stupor, eventually gathering up the courage to slip her arms around Adrien’s neck as the second song started. Peter bit back a smile at the sheer irony of it all. There was his friend, dancing with the girl of his dreams, unaware of who she was and how much he loved her.

And Peter knew that some small part of Adrien knew just what was in front of him. There was nothing ‘just friend’-ly about the way Adrien looked down at Marinette, who’s head had found its way to his chest.

As for Marinette, well it looked like she was in heaven. Dancing with the very boy she’d rejected only slightly more than a week ago, equally as oblivious. The whole scene was so sweet that Peter couldn’t help but feel so out of place. He’d never really considered romance a possibility for Spiderman. Sure, he’d tried with Liz, but that disaster had deterred him from any further attempts. Telling one’s significant other their identity only put them in danger, but hiding it from them also caused issues with the relationship. Peter had elected to avoid it all together.

Maybe Marinette and Adrien were made for each other, or maybe their bond transcended their double life. Adrien had stated that Marinette was just a friend, yet he seemed drawn to her, something that would have been inexplicable had Peter not known both their true selves. Both Ladybug and Chat Noir, the heart and soul of Paris, did not disappear when they took off their costumes, that much was apparent.  Even now, in a crowded gymnasium, it seemed like the light favoured them, like the music was for their ears alone. The way they held each other suggested something deeper than just friendship, the way Adrien hugged her close to his chest as they swayed, all rhythm long forgotten.

“This one’s safe,” their bodies seemed to suggest, well within their own little bubble. And Peter couldn’t agree more. As long as they were together, the outside world could never hurt them. Not in any way that mattered.