Foggy meets Peter at a little cafe over a cup of warm milk tea.
"Okay, Matt," Foggy groans and rubs his temples, "Vigilante-ism, fine. I'm over it. Keeping it a secret from me? I understand. You've got that whole weird, self sacrificing Catholic thing going on. But now you're showing me your illegitimate son or something and I need to..."
Peter turns bright red, cheeks and neck and entire face just burning, and he buries his face in his hands as he groans, "I'm not his illegitimate son, Mr. Nelson. Please don't... ugh. No."
"I can't be that bad as a parent," Matt hums, teasingly, and Peter is giving him a look, he knows, so he just laughs. "Anyways, Foggy, I just adopted Peter. He's been staying at my place for a while, and I introduced him to you as soon as he gave the go, I promise."
"He really did want to tell you about me." Peter speaks quickly, in that apologetic tone that Tony keeps telling him to stop using. (Not that Peter ever listens, and Matt knows that Peter is too stubborn to even try persuading him.) "But I just wasn't quite comfortable quiet yet. He did tell me that you knew about the whole..." He makes two horns in a very unsubtle gesture and Matt resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. "So I spent a while trying to think it over."
Foggy's features twist in confusion and Matt can practically hear the gears clicking around his head as he murmurs, "You're connected to..." He makes the same horn gestures, and Matt gives up on acting cool, he just buries his face in his hands and groans. Loudly.
Peter pats him on the shoulder in a manner that might be comforting if he weren't so clearly trying not to laugh. Foggy makes a sound that might be apologetic, but he's snickering, too, so Matt glares in his vague direction.
Foggy's laughter intensifies, and Matt knows that he probably missed Foggy's eyes by a mile.
Whatever. It was totally intentional.
"I'm very connected," Peter agrees lightly with what is probably an extremely exaggerated wink. "I happen to be a very big fan of spiders, did you know that?"
Foggy, Matt knows, must be as pale as the milk in his tea. "No," he whispers, awed and horrified and disturbed all at the same time. "No, there's now way..."
Peter makes a thwip thwip sound with his mouth and sticks out his wrists. "Yep."
"Dude, you're, like, twelve."
Peter sounds extremely offended as he answers, "Dude, I'm, like, fifteen. Way older than twelve."
"Three years," Foggy says, but it comes out squeaky and high pitched and just a tad too hysterical. "Three years isn't that big of a time gap."
"It's the difference between eighteen and twenty-one." Matt points out, raising an eyebrow.
Foggy pretends to consider this before blowing his lips out into a harsh sigh and he concedes, "Point."
Peter grins at Foggy, and Foggy, as in the Foggy that is utterly exasperated and just completely done with vigilantes, can't help but smile back, full of teeth and stretched lips and silent laughter.
And, Matt thinks to himself as he pretends not to notice Peter add yet another sugar cube to his lego-esque building (tower?), it's not half bad, his two lives colliding like this, violent and strange but alright.
No, he smiles to himself, not half bad.