A/N: I had no idea how I was going to continue this, and then I started reading a bunch of Parksborn on AO3. So here we are.

Links to Jackson's and Harry's face-claims are in my bio.

Peter walked into school a couple days later. May made him stay home out of worry after the post office incident. He hadn't been in contact with Jackson; he'd had Ned over a lot after school. Things seemed as they were before he met the senior but there was a feeling of emptiness.

He stopped at his locker and rolled the combination. Whispers behind him alerted him to a juicy gossip and then an arm slid around his middle. There was only one person Peter allowed to do that. He turned to see the recognizable grin of his old best friend, Harry Osborn.

"Pete, buddy! How's it going?"

"Y-you're back." Peter blinked a few times to make sure he was real. Harry's father had sent him away to boarding school when they were twelve. "I'm good. Everything's good." He scolded himself internally; he wanted things to be good again.

Harry shook him a little. "That's great, man. What are you doing after— Hey, watch it!" Someone had collided with Harry, which knocked Peter off for a second. "Don't you know who I am?"

The offender looked up, and Peter felt that twinge of guilt he'd been holding onto. Jackson had reverted back to his emo kid cover but, this time, he only had one spiked bracelet. His left arm was wrapped in a white bandage poking out from the sleeves.

"I'm deeply sorry to have displeased the great Maharaja of douchebaggery." Jackson didn't miss a beat in insulting his former bully. Harry had always mocked him for his social standing. "Fantastic to see you. Hoped three years of getting the paddle would finally knock some sense into you. Clearly, I was wrong." He glanced at Peter. "Parker."

Peter didn't say a word; he just watched Jackson walk away. Harry was fuming; he remembered that smart-mouthed little pleb. The blond took a deep breath and returned his attention to his friend. "You know him?"

"Yeah. Jackson. He's—"

Harry didn't let him finish. "He's a commoner. Don't know how he could have come here. He has nothing. I'm not going to tell you who to hang out with but anyone but him."

To Peter, it seemed like the whole world was against him being around Jackson. He knew to agree with Harry was better than opposing him, so he nodded. "Okay." It was a vague agreement. "You want to meet my friends?" He figured getting Harry's mind off of Jackson would ease him a little.

The grin was back and Harry ruffled his hair. "Sounds great!"

Jackson had spent the past few days avoiding his group of friends and dealing with the aftermath of his identity reveal. He'd been staying with his cousins and, despite their attempts to get him out and about, he moped in his room. He lost the one best friend he'd had and he didn't want to be social.

He gently pulled on his long-sleeve shirt to avoid hurting his arm. It was still healing. The brunet grabbed his skateboard and rode down the block towards his own personal Hell. He very narrowly avoided being bumped into by Flash, who he simply flipped off.

Walking into school, the first person he saw was Peter. Quickly looking at the ground, he tucked his board under his arm and started forward, bumping into someone. He was about to apologize when he heard that all-too-familiar haughty tone. Just what I need right now, he thought. He looked to see the smug face of Harry Osborn. He wanted to give the younger the same going-away present but he didn't. Instead, he channeled his anger into sarcasm and insults.

When he was done, he couldn't help but smirk at the rise he got out of Osborn. But it faltered once he saw Peter. In his head, all he saw was the unconscious Spider-Man and then the unmasked webslinger. Parts of him told him it wasn't really Peter, that it was just a Jedi mind trick. Now isn't the fucking time for Star Wars references, he snapped at himself.

All he did was keep walking. He could hear Osborn feeding Peter the typical bullshit about his lower class. It then dawned on him that the kid who was always hanging out with Osborn years ago was Peter.

He sat down in class and, ignoring the obvious curiosity of his best friends, opened his notebook to work on a drawing of Kid Psionic and Spider-Man.

"Jackson!" He jerked out of his zone to see the teacher glaring at him, and his classmates staring.

"Gould and Eldredge introduced the theory of punctuated equilibrium?" The teacher looked surprised; she'd suspected Jackson of not paying attention but he was right. She turned back to the board and he sighed in relief.

Jason leaned over. "Dude, what's with you?" He gazed at the artwork. "Wow. Anyone tell you that you're a regular Ross Andru?"

Jackson didn't answer; he only blushed. He wasn't really open with showing people his art but the response was always positive. He gave Jason a thumbs-up and put his notebook away.

Peter introduced Harry to Ned and MJ, and they all sat together during lunch. MJ was probably about to set the world record for eye rolling while the boys chatted about some obscure fantasy series. A crash got everyone's attention. Peter stood up to see Jackson on the floor, having been tripped by Flash. A brown paper bag was lying beside him.

Flash was insulting him left and right, but Jackson remained down. With his enhanced hearing, Peter picked up Jackson quietly saying to himself, "Don't do anything stupid." But his heartbeat was racing and he turned onto his back to look at his attacker.

"Wait!" Peter ran over and helped Jackson up. "Just... leave it. He's not worth it." The brunet looked at him, expression blank.

"You got a thing for him or something, Penis Parker?" Flash's friends laughed loudly.

Peter looked Jackson in the eye. "C'mon." The senior nodded and, scooping up his bag, left the cafeteria with him.

As soon as they were a safe distance away, Jackson yanked himself away from Peter. "Why'd you help me?" His tone was cold. "I don't know how to deal with this." He scratched his arm.

"I'm not mad or anything. It's just... I dunno." Peter was at a loss for words. He wasn't sure how to explain what was going on in his head. "You're not—"

Jackson tilted his head. "What?" He looked down. "No. God, no. This is not what you think." He pushed up his sleeve and unwrapped the bandage, revealing a small semicolon on his wrist. "It's my reminder. I'm never doing that again." He gently rebandaged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I swear, I had no idea it was you. No offense but normal Peter Parker doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would become— y'know."

"I had my suspicions." Peter felt a relieved smile come to his face. "I mean, height difference, sarcasm, when you told me you were in high school."

"Damn. I should be more discreet." A broad smile crossed his features. "We're cool, yeah?" He held out his hand.

Peter was about to reach forward when Harry intercepted them. "The hell are you doing, pipsqueak?" He glared down at Jackson, who now looked bored.

"Oh, I see. You've appointed yourself as Peter's guard puppy." Harry was nearly a foot taller than Jackson. "Making sure anyone who's unworthy of his friendship stays away. You don't like me because I'm a churl." He could see the confusion on Peter's face and it only fueled him. "I may be common but at least I'm not a spoiled brat who complains to Daddy when things don't go his way."

The next thing Jackson saw was the beige tile floor as Harry had socked him in the face. "You stay the hell away from Peter, got it, freak?" The senior rolled onto his back once more and looked up at the seething boy.

"Comprende." His nose was broken and he quickly set it in place, with a sickening crack, which made Peter flinch. "Thanks, Osborn. I really needed the reminder." He'd just see Peter later anyway. Jackson got up and fixed his sleeve. "Always a pleasure." And with that, he walked off.

Harry was still breathing hard. "Promise me you won't hang out with him." It was just as it was before. When Harry didn't like someone, he ruined that person's social standing and barred Peter from making contact with them.

Peter could make that promise and, as Spider-Man, he wasn't Peter and Kid Psionic wasn't Jackson. "I promise."

Peter sat on the rooftop, just watching over the city. It had been an uneventful night. "Hey, Spidey." The voice from behind caught him off guard and he would have fallen off if Jackson didn't catch him at the last minute. "You'd think those Spidey Senses would warn you about me coming." Peter could practically hear the smirk in his voice, even before he pulled off the mask. "So, uh... hi. I guess this is the first time we've really talked as... Spider-Man and Kid Psionic. Your guard dog doesn't you know you're... Right?" He spun around, taking in his surroundings.

"No, he doesn't know." Peter opened his mask. "Harry can be a bit abrasive—"

"A bit? That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard. And I've been around. I'm sorry, Pete, but your buddy is a narcissistic psychopath, just like his father. Whatever I said earlier wasn't wrong." Jackson took a seat on the edge of the building. "I hate that you had to see me getting hit though. I really don't know when to shut the fuck up."

"You're alright though?" Peter returned to his spot, right beside the other. Jackson shrugged. "I should have stopped him."

Jackson turned to face him. "Don't worry about it. I wouldn't oppose him if I were you. At school, I'll stay away from you. But up here and under the mask, we can be besties." He put an arm around Peter's shoulder. "Just don't tell Stark, yeah?" Peter couldn't help but relax. Being with Jackson was comforting; he rested his head on his shoulder. "You're awfully affectionate for someone who doesn't seem like it." He ran his fingers through Peter's hair, earning a content purr.

An alarm went off and both boys looked down at the fleeing criminal. Jackson rolled his eyes and shot an orb, casing the crook's feet in ice. He was then tackled by a cop. "You're good at that," Peter commented.

"Gotta be." He grinned. "Like I said, I'm magic. Or, if you want to logical about it, I'm a mutant."

"Did you ever try out for the X-Men?" Peter was genuinely curious if Mr. Stark was the only one who told Jackson to go away.

"You mean the League of Abstinence. No thanks. I think you have to be a virgin in order to qualify. A little late for that." Peter remained silent. The only person he'd ever kissed was Harry, and that was three years ago. The brunet rubbed his arm, hoping Jackson wouldn't notice. But he did. "Oh. Sorry, Pete."

"No. It—it's fine." Peter smiled weakly. "I've only been kissed once. But it was years ago." He wondered what Jackson was like but they'd just become friends again. He didn't want to ruin that. "I never kissed Liz, if you're wondering that."

Jackson smirked. "Neither did I. She and I had an understanding. I've actually never kissed a girl. Guys, yeah, and more." He wasn't about to up and tell his friend that he had been raped. He never told anyone, not even Joel. It was one of the reasons why he never approached the X-Men; they'd root around inside his head. "So what's the deal with you and Richie Bitch? You two are like total opposites."

"Harry protected me from the other kids when we were eight. Being friends with him kept people off my back." Peter shrugged.

"I could've totally done that. I mean, if I wasn't two years older than you." Jackson messed with the boy's hair. "You know, the way he treated me today— it was just like back then. He used to just give me so much shit about being undersized and poverty-stricken. Didn't help that most of my classmates did it but since Harry was younger, it made it worse. Couldn't fucking deck him because it'd reflect bad on me."

Peter moved his head into Jackson's lap and looked up at him. "I can talk to him. He'll listen to me." Jackson opened his mouth to protest but Peter put a finger to his lips. "Just let me, okay?"

"Fine. But I better not be confronted by an angry fifteen-year-old with a father complex. I'm serious, Pete. I did a pretty good job today but I can't promise I might blast the prick in the face with a fireball next time."

"You're so angry." Jackson didn't respond; he simply gave Peter a half-serious cross look before smirking again and pushing him up.

"Let's go find bad guys."