AN: So this is basically my headcanon that Aunt May knew all along.
Peter walked into the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal before taking it back into his room.
Aunt May wouldn't approve, but she wasn't supposed to be back for quite a while yet. He glanced up at the ceiling as he walked in and a photo that was stuck on the ceiling grabbed his attention. He hadn't realised it was still there, stuck on the corner of the room that was nearest the door; a left over from when he'd plastered his walls with maps and photos, trying to sort his life out.
Sighing, he kicked off his shoes and climbed the wall one-handed, balancing his bowl precariously. He wedged his frame in the corner and secured himself with his feet before picking the small photograph off the ceiling.
He smiled sadly at it. The picture was of his father who was balancing his three year old self on his knee. They were both laughing, young Peter's mouth spread in a wide grin that showed off his new teeth. His father's eyes were crinkled in a smile that exaggerated the laugh lines around his eyes. Peter balanced the photo on his knee and took a few bites of cereal.
He had almost finished his bowl and was focusing more on the picture than his food when the door opened underneath him.
"Peter? Where are you?" Aunt May walked into the room - he had forgotten to lock the door. Peter froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. He dared not move, for fear he would be discovered. How would he explain his position to Aunt May if she looked up?
His aunt was frowning, turning to leave when a drop of milk Peter had forgotten to keep an eye on fell from his spoon and hit the door knob with an audible plop!
May glanced up at the source of the noise and screamed.
"Peter! Oh my God!" she cried, stumbling backwards. "How on earth did you get up there?"
Peter cursed silently and tried for an innocent smile.
"I er…" He started, mind working furiously to find an excuse she would swallow.
"But that's…" She stared up at him wide eyed. "Impossible. How are you staying up there?"
"Rock climbing!" Peter gasped, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing. "You know… Friction?" May didn't look convinced.
"How did you get up there?" She demanded, hands placed firmly on her hips. "And why are you eating in your room?" She gave him a very stern look and he gave up. In one swift movement, he pulled his feet away from the walls, falling to the floor and landing I a crouch, cereal bowl balanced in one hand.
Aunt May gaped at him, but she recovered herself very quickly. "Kitchen. Now." She said, taking a half hearted swipe at the back of his head, which he dodged. Aunt May ushered Peter into the kitchen and sat him at the kitchen table. "I think it's time you know," she said with a sigh. "I know about you. I know what you do at night and where you go. It doesn't take much to figure it out." Peter stayed stock-still. How could he have been so stupid so as not to see it?
"H-ho-how long have you… How long have you known?" He asked cautiously. Aunt May gave a wry smile.
"Since Captain Stacy-" Peter tensed at the name- "announced the warrant for your arrest," she finished.
"Why… Why didn't you say something?" He asked after a stunned silence. "Well I knew there was no way I could stop you and I was afraid of your reaction. It was so soon after losing Ben and… I was trying to convince myself I was wrong, Peter."
Peter sighed. "I'm sorry, Aunt May," he said.
"Oh, no, honey," she said softly, reaching a hand across the table to take his. "I know you. I know you couldn't give it up even if you wanted to. You're too damn good." She smiled. "Just don't wash your suit with everything else next time, okay?"
"Okay, Aunt May," he laughed.
"I do have one question though," she said. He looked at her.
"Yeah?" He asked slowly. She adopted a serious expression.
"I've been trying to figure it out - how do you do the web thing?"