Peter spent most of the month of May considering his options.
On the one hand, Spiderman was a hero to all. It wasn’t his place to judge the people he saved on a nightly basis. Trying to decide some kind of threshold of “worthiness” of being saved was a slippery slope, and there was no way that he could ever forgive himself for letting someone get hurt because maybe in their everyday life they were kind of a douchebag. He would never, ever, ever cross that line. It was one of the first things he’d decided when he’d created Spiderman.
If he could do something to help someone, then he would do it, no questions asked, no holds barred.
There was also the issue of Spiderman taking a stance like this.
Again, he’d created Spiderman to help people. All people.
But he’d been Spiderman for a whole year now. There were things he had seen and heard and read that were always there, pulsing in the back of his mind. It made his throat feel like it was filling with thick, hot liquid, it made his eyes burn and his teeth grind. It made him angry, and here, right now, was something he could do about it. A stand he could take to let the world know where Spiderman was on that pretty, pretty spectrum of sexuality.
Peter was bisexual.
Michelle was, too. Ned was, too. They both thought it was a great idea when he pitched it to them. May had smiled and smoothed his hair back and said that no matter what, she would throw down for Spiderman anywhere, any time.
God, he loved her.
And really, they were the only ones he had to worry about. No one else’s opinion really mattered.
Well, except for maybe…
He found Matt first because it was daytime and because unless Matt was making a scene in court, he was typically at his office. He might be bruised and battered and asleep at his desk, but God willing he would be there.
He told Peter once that having some kind of routine was healthy.
Peter wondered if whatever therapist had pitched that to him had been expecting Matt to add “beating the shit out of criminals and low lifes” to that routine.
When he entered the little office door, he found most of the lights off. There was a small lamp illuminating the empty front desk. Their receptionist must have already left for the day, which suited Peter just fine. This kind of talk wasn’t meant for un-inducted ears.
Matt appeared in the doorway, dark brows furrowed and his head cocked in confusion. He clearly hadn’t been expecting Peter, which was fine. Peter hadn’t called or texted. “Hi,” he greeted, lifting a hand in a wave that Matt followed with his chin. He was just opening his mouth, probably to ask Peter if something was wrong or what the fuck he was doing in his office when Foggy’s door swung open with a squeak he described as “charming.”
“Heya, Pete. How’s school?” Foggy asked with a smile. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting any more clients for the day. While Matt tended to stay wrapped in his pressed suits, clinging to his cover, Foggy had already ditched his jacket and rolled his sleeves up. Frankly, he looked much more inviting than Matt did, in Peter’s opinion, but Peter had also witnessed Clint Barton physically swoon the first time Daredevil had cracked a blood-filled smile. Matt was tricky like that.
“S’good. I had something I wanted to… ask about. Matt specifically, I guess, but I wouldn’t mind a few more opinions,” he explained, shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets. Matt stepped further out of his office, intrigued. Anything Foggy was involved in, he wanted to be, too. They were kind of disgustingly adorable like that.
“Can Karen know?” Foggy asked with a glance towards her still closed office door.
“Sure,” Peter replied with a shrug. The more the merrier, why the fuck not.
“Cool, she’ll be pissed if she misses out. Karen!”
There was a slam from within the office, and then Matt’s lip curled at the screech of the window being dragged open. Foggy merely smiled benignly. He’d been sanding blood stains out of the floor and re-staining shelves since he and Matt had re-opened their firm with Karen. Peter was pretty sure that if there were professional vigilante companions, Foggy was the standard for comparison among them. Nothing phased him anymore.
Finally, there was the click of heels as Karen approached and opened her door a crack, squinting one, beautiful blue eye at Foggy in suspicion. When she spotted Peter, however, she opened the door wide, the icy glare vanishing for a much warmer, more open smile.
“Hey, Peter. I didn’t know you were coming along tonight,” she greeted as she stepped out into the front room, Peter smiling back at her in greeting.
“Wasn’t planning on it- I just kinda realized I needed to talk to you and- well,” Peter lifted his arms in a slight flap, like a bird, “Here I am.”
“So talk, Pete. Let us know what’s going on,” Foggy smiled, crossing his arms loosely and leaning back against the frame of his office door.
“So, the Pride march is this weekend,” he began, running a hand through his hair out of habit. Nervous, not because of the topic, but because of his idea. “And I was thinking about going.”
Foggy and Karen exchanged a look, more confused than any other emotion he could identify on their faces.
“O… kay,” Foggy shifted forwards to stand straight again. “Is… is everything okay at home, Peter? If you need some resources…”
“No!”
No, no no. He needed to explain now because he could not have anyone thinking a bad thought about May. Not even his friends. He would have to fight them on principle on her behalf, and he had yet to successfully pin Daredevil.
“No, sorry. It’s nothing like that. She knows- May knows, I mean,” he clarified, and he watched as three sets of shoulders relaxed. “We don’t have any secrets anymore. The thing I’m kind of stuck on, though, is that I want to go as Spiderman,” he looked between the three of them. Karen’s eyebrows went up in surprise, and Foggy made a soft, perplexed noise, tilting his head. Matt’s head cocked, too, but he remained silent, his thumb running back and forth across his knuckles. “I just- I think it’s important for people to know. And I think it would mean a lot. I just want to know- I want to make sure that this isn’t crazy. That I’m not about to do something totally batshit.”
Karen smiled at him, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “I think it’s a great idea, Peter. Besides… no one else owns Spiderman. He’s you just as much as you’re him. If it’s something you want to do, I say go for it,” she replied, looking towards Matt and Foggy. Foggy was already nodding, but Matt spoke before she did.
“It’s up to you, kid. But Karen’s right… Spiderman belongs to you and you alone. If you want to swing through, do it,” Matt slipped his glasses off, folding them to tuck them into his jacket pocket. He looked uneasy. “Look, are you asking me to go with you? As DD? Because-”
“No, no. I know that you’re uh- more private than that. I’m not asking you for that kind of thing, Matt, I swear. I just wanted to know what you thought- make sure I wasn’t gonna get you any bad press,” he smiled. It stretched into a grin when Matt huffed a laugh.
“Doesn’t matter, I couldn’t read it anyways,” he spread his hands, palms up as Foggy laughed.
“Besides, Matt is a special kind of guy,” Foggy gripped Matt’s shoulder, Karen smiling while Peter cocked his head.
“How do you mean?”
“As far as I’ve seen there’s no flag for his insane sense for hotness. He just knows, man. It’s not fair.”
Matt ducked his head, grinning slightly before he shifted into Foggy’s side, plastering himself against him. “God-given gift, let’s say,” he smirked, cramming his fingers into the spaces between Foggy’s ribs, making him jerk and start to laugh.
“Aren’t they embarrassing?” Karen asked as she walked over to Peter, giving him a gentle pat on the back. Peter tipped his face towards her, smiling. He liked Karen. She was like the sun with all the burn hidden up inside of her. If only her not-so-secret boyfriend wasn’t the scariest person Peter had ever met in his life.
“Thanks, you guys,” Peter offered as Foggy pressed his forehead to Matt’s, his grin soft and matching Matt’s own smile.
Peter texted Wade next and was surprised to get a response back within a minute. That meant two things, that Wade was a) not on a job and b) bored as hell. Both things worked in Peter’s favor. He asked for an address because he knew Wade had several across the city. Wade gave him a pin and told him to please not rob him or tweet that shit.
The building was an old brickstone one, and the neighborhood was… fine. Some of the places Wade hung around he wouldn’t take Peter to. He would ruffle his hair or the top of his mask and tell him no fuckin’ way, kid. He found the apartment and knocked, and heard the shuffle of Wade’s heavy tread approach.
“Password,” he demanded through the door, and Peter bit back a groan, his head falling back with the force of his eye roll before he straightened.
“You didn’t give me a password, you jerk!”
“Correct!”
The door swung open and revealed Wade, dressed casually in sweatpants and a t-shirt. The sight of his mottled skin meant nothing to Peter anymore, and he stepped inside when Wade backed up to let him. It was… homey, and Peter was surprised. He’d been through a few of Wade’s safe houses. They were always sparsely furnished, stained with blood, and well stocked with ammunition. But this one had pictures covering the fridge, and there were half burned candles clumped together on various surfaces. There were mismatched pillows on the couch and a soft looking, grey knit blanket thrown over the back of the couch. Peter swallowed back the question on his tongue, because he already knew the answer.
This was where Wade had lived with Vanessa.
“What’s good, Spidey? Not like you to hunt me down before the witching hours,” Wade asked as he shut the door and walked past Peter, scooping up the remote in one neat motion to mute the television. Wade was having a good day, then.
“Uh,” Peter began, because he had very abruptly forgotten why he had come. There were so many little details around him that he wanted to commit to memory, like the bottles of dark nail polish on the coffee table or the multi-patterned mugs drying on a rack beside the sink.
But that was a conversation he knew that Wade might never have with him, no matter how many jobs they ran together or how much Mexican food Peter bribed him with.
The world had taken everything from Wade Wilson, and he owed Peter absolutely nothing. He gave Peter a friend, a confidant, and a security in the streets that he didn’t have eight months ago. He didn’t need to give Peter Vanessa, too.
“Uh- so, Pride. The Pride march. It’s next weekend and I’m going to go as Spiderman.”
Wade stilled, his expression one of visible delight.
“Oh hell yes, Petey. What’re you gonna do? What’s the plan?”
Wade threw himself down on one side of the couch and gestured for Peter to take the other. He dropped his backpack and joined him, pulling his heels up with him. “Well, first I was gonna make a new suit- um, in the bi flag colors. But MJ said that people might doubt the authenticity- um, that it was actually Spiderman. So I think I’ll just do the whole flag as a cape thing and hope I don’t get sucked into a vortex or any other Incredibles-level horror,” he smiled as Wade cackled.
“That’ll do, lil baby. Your friends going?”
“Yeah- MJ’s organizing a whole thing for our school. I told Matt and Foggy and Karen, too. Just ‘cause I wanted their advice. Matt said he didn’t wanna go.”
Not surprising to Wade, either. Matt fought tooth and nail to keep his two lives entirely separate, and even harder to suppress any and all emotions that may expose him to the terrifying ordeal of being known. There was also the whole Catholic thing. He wasn’t really sure where Matt was with that one or where his church might be. Karen hadn’t asked Frank to try and burn down the church yet, though, so Peter thought that was a pretty good sign.
In the middle of his musings, he noticed Wade staring at him. Expectant.
“... what?” he finally asked when he could discern no reason. There was nothing on the wall behind him, no thundering of feet up the stairs that might be some moronic group trying to jump Wade in the comfort of his home.
“I’m waiting,” Wade sang, chin in his hand.
“For… what?” Peter asked, nose wrinkling until it hit him. Holy shit. “You want to go, too? As Deadpool?”
“Sure thing, Petey! Let them flags fly, I’m always down for a party,” he winked, before he stood. “I’ll see you there, though, okay? I don’t need any assholes getting the wrong idea,” Wade stood. Peter felt his stomach flip uncomfortably. Technically, no one knew how old Spiderman was, but anyone who had heard him speak knew he was young. His Aunt had talked to him about it only once, and believed Peter once he had promised that there were no grooming behaviors going on.
They didn’t have secrets anymore, not him and May.
“Thanks, Wade. I’m glad you’re going, though. Even if I don’t see you- well. I’ll find you,” he smiled as he stood.
Wade chuckled, slapping his thighs as he stood as well, reaching out to massage a scarred hand through Peter’s hair briefly. He did it the same way Ben used to. “You’re a good kid, Peter.”
He hoped so.
Peter wrinkled his nose upon clicking into Amazon’s website, staring at the screen. He really didn’t want to order off of Amazon, not after everything he’d read about them. May spotted his hesitation from a mile away and shook her keys in his face, smiling.
“Come with me.”
She brought him to one of her hippie stores, the window hung with different tapestries and advertising yoga classes and psychic readings. The flow of cool air from May opening the door in front of them brought with it the scent of incense. They walked into a world of color, and Peter could feel his cheeks ache with his smile. There were flags everywhere, some he had never seen before. All handmade, all brilliantly, beautifully colored.
Peter saw a lot of the worst his city had to offer while prowling the streets and alleys by moonlight. It was nice to see the good sometimes, to remind himself why he loved what he did.
Why he loved his city.
Once they were in the store proper, May let him take the lead, running his hands across the fabrics and smiling to himself while May went to chat with the woman behind the counter. They knew each other, clearly. Her name was Beth.
A thought struck Peter as he observed the different striped flags, and he pulled out his phone to text Wade.
SM: Wade do u need a flag?? i’m in a store with some rn
DP: is the store a front for the mob?
SM: don’t think so
DP: flag me up baby boy. slide it under the door i’m at a thing
Noted.
MJ and Ned came over to stay the night before. May let him push the couch and chairs around until he could make a nest in the middle of the floor in front of the television. Ned brought a stack of movies, a change of clothes, and good shoes for walking. MJ brought a change of clothes, a bullhorn, and a canvas grocery bag filled with three headbands, hot glue sticks, and a metric ton of fake flowers in a variety of colors.
Peter couldn’t wear one with the suit, he didn’t have a good way to make it stay other than webbing it to his mask, but it was nice to be included. May brought her glue gun and left them to conspire.
“So we’ll definitely be seeing you tomorrow, then?” MJ asked while she carefully lined her flowers in hot glue-ing order. Because it was MJ, it was going to be flawless and perfect. Peter had a hard time tearing his eyes away from her flower arrangement. Would copying it be too obvious? He looked up and caught MJ’s unimpressed stare.
Definitely too obvious.
“Yeah, I figure I’ll wait until the march starts, then start swinging back and forth,” he explained, turning quickly back to his own selection of fake flowers, running his fingers over the scratchy petals in thought. “DP’s coming, too. I dunno where he’s going to be, though.”
“Awesome,” Ned breathed, because Ned was Peter’s best friend and obligated to be his number one fan for anything and everything superhero related.
But it was kind of awesome.
MJ nodded, holding her headband out to admire its start with a critical eye. She seemed satisfied with her masterpiece and brought it close to continue, while giving Peter and Ned an expectant look. “I know you nerds want to watch Star Trek.” So clearly this was getting a little gushy for MJ. She was done. She was deciding they were done and moving on. She was giving Peter an out, and he was grateful.
“Chris Pine, MJ!” was Ned’s answering whine as he moved for his backpack. Peter webbed it over to him with only a little flourish. Like, minimal flourish.
“Zoe Saldana,” MJ agreed sagely.
“Zachary Quinto,” the three of them spoke in union, before laughing.
Peter woke to the sound of MJ stepping carefully over Ned, her bag held high to clear the couch and armchair she was edging between. Peter had known she had to leave early so she could be the first one there. She needed to make sure everyone had directions, everyone was accounted for, and just generally keep their classmates in line. With the weight her stare could hold, she was the best person for the job.
Peter just hadn’t realized she had to get up this early. His eyes were still itching with sleep but he made himself stand. The least he could do was walk her downstairs.
MJ didn’t question it, for once, letting Peter ease the door open because he knew its creaks and squeaks, and then ease it shut once they had stepped out into the hall. “Are you going to be okay, getting there on your own?” He had to ask because he was Peter Parker, not because he doubted her abilities to handle herself in the slightest.
MJ knew this, but she still scoffed, because she was Michelle Jones and she had a daily quota of scoffs to meet, or the universe would implode. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she replied, more sincerely than she might have with a few more hours of REM cycles under her belt. They made it down the stairs in companionable silence, passing a yawn back and forth between them until they reached the bottom floor and Peter reached for the door.
“Listen,” MJ spoke when his hand hit the knob. Peter turned to her, expectant as she looked down at her worn converse and then back to him. “I’m really glad you’re going to Pride as Spiderman… I wish you could march with us- I mean, me and Ned, specifically, but I get it.”
“I have to keep both of you safe.”
“I know that, Peter,” MJ promised, because she did understand and he knew she meant it. “But I still just want to say- I know this was a big decision for you. I know that you walk a really thin, jagged line as Spiderman and Peter Parker. And I know that even though Peter Parker might believe in some things, Spiderman can’t stand for everything. I know that. But this? Just- showing up and showing out at Pride? That is going to mean… Peter, it’s going to mean so much to so many people. And I know you don’t always get the thanks that you should,” she paused and shot up a hand, stopping him from speaking, “and I know that you don’t think you should be thanked for this. I know, so don’t say it,” she was smiling at him now. Something softer that both he and Ned were beginning to coax out of her more and more. “So I won’t say it. I won’t say thank you, but I will say that having you by our side and watching our backs makes me feel safe, and it makes me feel strong. And in a couple of hours, I won’t be the only one feeling that way. And I think you need to know that.”
They stood there, with the weight of MJ’s words hanging between them while Peter tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry or hug her.
MJ watched him with dark eyes, glancing between him and the door slowly while an eyebrow began to inch up her forehead. “You gonna let me out?”
Peter swallowed again, and found his voice.
“I think my hand is stuck to the door,” he admitted.
May left with Ned a few hours later, after Peter helped him clean up the living room and pack everything up. Peter shoved his suit and his flag into his backpack before heading for the door himself, when his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He had three separate messages.
MJ: swing loud and proud. try to not run into a street light
NL: warn me before you start so i can get optimal video footage
WW: NO COPS AT PRIDE JUST SPIDERMAN AND DEADPOOL
Peter smiled, before pocketing his phone and stepping out the door.
He’d staked out a good roof a few days before. No building access aside from maintenance, and Peter set a few bricks in front of the door like dominoes. He’d heard it if anyone opened it.
He ducked behind the air conditioning unit to get changed, soon pulling his mask over his face and taking a deep breath. He was doing this. He was really doing this. It was one thing to have the papers take his moniker and twist it to whatever shitty article they wanted to push for the week, but it was something entirely different to put himself out there like this intentionally.
He was nervous.
He was a little scared.
But, more than anything?
He was excited.
Spiderman was a hero to everyone. Peter wanted to make sure the people that mattered knew that.
Wade was out there somewhere, too. Either in the crowd making friends or screaming above them all. Matt and Foggy were either watching live coverage or leaning out their windows to listen, or having their own party. Peter had heard mention of a cupcake attempt and been appropriately concerned.
And somewhere out there, at home or at the hospital or in the market, May was swelling with pride, full to bursting.
And that was enough for Peter.
“Oh my god, is that Spiderman?”
“Is he wearing-”
“Is he flying-”
“Spidey’s-”
“Hi! I’m Spiderman and I’m bi!”
“HELL YEAH, SPIDEY!”
There was Wade, towering above a crowd around him with an arm thrown around a line of people, cheering directly in his ear. He lifted a gloved hand in a wave, before turning to continue his stroll. Wade fit right in here, in his chaos element with no worry on his mind for once other than to just be himself.
Minus the homicidal leanings.
Maybe the voices around him were enough to drown out the voices in his head. Maybe if there were enough people living proudly and loudly around Wade, he didn’t feel the need to scare them off.
There were a lot of maybes that Peter couldn’t be worried about right now. He had a crowd to greet and some classmates to march with.
As he walked forwards, the crowd parted for him immediately, like a rainbow splitting and blurring into a mass of colors. Red, yellow, green, purple, gray, white, black, all of it surrounded him, closed him in and for once, Peter felt protected by the crowd around him instead of ambushed.
As Spiderman, he caught a lot of shit.
But as an individual participating in Pride? This was different. He could see middle schoolers whipping out phones to take pictures and videos, their parents standing with expressions of shock and hands on shoulders behind them.
Adults were tipping their heads back to holler support, waving flags and signs in Peter’s directions. Still more phones emerged, some turning to take selfies with Spidey in the background. He ducked into a group shot and threw up a peace sign before slipping out before they could catch him. Somewhere in this crowd were a group of his friends.
Somewhere farther, but still plenty loud was Wade. There was talk of lifting him onto shoulders.
Good fucking luck. Wade was a solid mass of muscle and although Peter had super strength, he was not getting roped into carrying his ass around.
He pushed further and finally, finally, spotted the tangle of MJ’s hair above a crowd of shorter students. Ned was beside her and, like he had a radar, turned to meet Peter’s gaze.
“Puh-Spiderman!”
Close one, bud.
“Whoa. Sup, Spidey?” MJ greeted, effortlessly cool despite the burning sun above. Bitch. She knew it, too, with that smug smile.
“Hey,” Peter lifted a hand, and Flash’s phone cluttered to the pavement.
If Peter were a more vindictive person, he would have laughed. But he still only felt a little bad.
Like, miniscule status.
“Wow, can we- can we get a picture with you, Spidey? We all go to the same school- Midtown. Please?” Cindy turned wide blue eyes on him. He wouldn’t have said no, but she might as well have been enhanced, the effect those eyes had on some people.
“Sure. You guys go ahead and… get ready and I’ll jump in.”
There was an immediate scramble, the crowd beginning to move on without them. But there were still plenty of people surrounding them, heads turning and whispers flying.
“Spiderman, that was Spiderman!”
“He’s here? He’s taking pictures with people?”
“Deadpool’s here, too, man. No, for real, I saw him!”
It felt good to be talked about like this, for once. Hearing the name Spiderman on the streets wasn’t making his heart stop and his breath catch. It wasn’t making the Spidey sense shiver up and down his spine. It didn’t make him feel hot and cold all over.
He felt warm. He felt strong. He felt powerful.
“Okay, Spidey,” MJ spoke after handing her phone off to an NYU student.
“Oh, right,” Peter shook himself out of his musings and moved to crouch in front of the crowd, hesitating. It was stupid. A stupid idea, but at the last second he dragged his mask up to the bridge of his nose, and grinned.
“Whoa,” the NYU student breathed, and quick as a flash Peter had dragged it back down again, hopping up to pluck the phone from his frozen hands.
“Well, citizens, I gotta keep moving. But it was nice to meet you all,” he pitched his voice low while handing his phone back to MJ, who scoffed at his voice but accepted it all the same.
“See you around, Spidey,” she lifted her chin in challenge, as Peter backed away.
“I really hope that doesn’t happen,” he made the suit wink, before he turned, ducking through a crowd of older ladies. They squealed and gave him fond pats on his back as he wove through them, grinning still beneath his mask.
He could feel his phone buzzing against his hip, but he ignored it for now. He could feel the sun through his mask and his face hurt from smiling. Even MJ behind him was looking around at their classmates with one of her own rare smiles.
This was just one of the reasons he’d put on the mask.
But this appearance wasn’t just for people out there.
This was for Peter himself, too.
He was allowed to be selfish sometimes, May had told him.
He was allowed to want things for himself, Wade had said.
He was allowed to take sometimes without giving anything in return, Matt had whispered. Like a hypocrite.
He was allowed to be proud as both Peter Parker and Spiderman, Foggy had smiled at him with a hand on Peter’s head.
And maybe they were all that Peter needed. Maybe he only needed some friends and family to get through the fucked up world out there, but there were some people who needed a hero like Spiderman in their corner, too.
Peter was happy to give them that.
Later, laying on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, Peter pulled out his phone.
He was still in the suit, sweat cooling on his forehead and making his hair stick up in fat curls every which way. May was in the kitchen, swearing and clattering around while she tried to figure out some lavender lemonade recipe she swore lived in her head.
MJ and Ned would be returning later. Wade had told him to swing around the next afternoon.
And now Peter looked at his phone, his heart doing a funny little jolt in his chest as he stared at the picture Foggy had sent him.
Karen was curled on Matt’s couch, a throw blanket across her legs and a cup of coffee steaming in her hand. Matt stood slightly in front of her, his face tipped towards the television with one hand wrapped across his ribs, his other hand over his jaw, trying to cover his face.
But Foggy had caught it.
He could see the little smile on Matt’s face, the pride etched in the line of his shoulders and the soft look Peter had only ever truly seen around Foggy. Footage of the march was on the television in front of Matt, and Peter realized it was his own face staring back at him from the screen.
‘Spiderman makes a surprise appearance at Pride’ was the headline splashed across the bottom.
Peter wasn’t looking for another dad. He’d had Ben and he’d lost Ben and no one could fill that empty void.
But maybe, sometimes, Peter was allowed to let Matt and Wade’s approval mean something to him.
