DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel or Spider-Man.
...
Chapter Seven
"You ever been scared?"
"What kind of question is that?" Spider-Man asks back.
Mo sits up on her elbows; Spider-Man is splayed out beside her, his head propped up on a pillow near her feet. His arm is thrown across her legs, a nice warm weight against the frigid cold that's sweeping into the nights. The fairy lights Spider-Man left on her balcony last week are strung up around the fire escape, casting a warm halo around him and her chest warms at the sight. She twirls her green man keyring around in her fingers.
"I mean, like, so scared you couldn't even comprehend it."
"What the kind that, like, gets stuck in your throat and makes it hard to breathe?"
"Exactly."
Spider-Man raises his mask to look at her, the lenses almost narrowed on her.
"Is something wrong? Do I need to pay a visit to someone?"
"No!" She scrambles to sit up, crossing her legs underneath her, "Course not, I'm fine!"
"You don't sound fine," his head drops back down to the pillow with a soft thud.
There's a beat of silence between before she speaks again, the words tumbling out as her heart hammers in her chest.
"I feel that kind of scared about school sometimes," she says, scooting closer to him. His arm reaches out to rest against her bare knees.
"So scared you can't breathe?"
"Yeah."
"I did too," he says quietly.
"Not anymore?" she asks, watching as he begins to draw lazy circles on the bare skin of her ankle. She shivers at the featherlight touch, goosebumps rising, but if he notices, he doesn't mention it.
"Nah," he says instead, "Kinda hard to feel scared of other people when I could break them in half by accident."
"Oh."
"I was scared of that for a while though," he says, his voice raw and quiet. "Hurting someone by accident, I mean."
"And did you?"
He doesn't reply, just continues brushing his gloved fingers against her calf. His lenses almost glow in the dark of her fire escape, their eerie light only offset by the amber glow of cheap LEDs; she wonders how it must feel to become so suddenly dangerous overnight and yet still manage to be so gentle.
His breathing has eased though, and the tense lines in his shoulders, the ones she's come to associate with minor injuries, have relaxed. Privately, Mo thinks super healing may be on the list of powers he received from his accident, but she has yet to fully test that theory. It's been months they've been hanging out now and he's yet to tell her anything about his freaky spider powers.
"Mean kids at school must be nothing in comparison to grandmas determined to get their cats out of trees."
His mask twists into a grin, "The grandmas are nothing. It's the little kids you need to watch out for. They have sharp little feet to kick with."
She laughs, her chest warm at his quick reply.
"If you're ever worried about school," he says, "Just think of me getting kicked in the shin by angry little kids."
"What? Your super powers didn't give you legs of steel?"
"I wish!" He cries, "I have so many bruises you could make a treasure map out of them."
She lifts the hand brushing against her ankle, inspecting the material that's wrapped snugly around it.
"What are you doing?" He asks, his tone amused.
"Trying to see if I can pull off your glove and follow those bruises to pirate gold."
He snorts, "Nice try. The suit ain't coming off, not even so you can inspect my bruises."
He lets her continue to hold his arm anyway, turning it so the underarm is facing up towards her. She skims her fingers across the fabric, feeling the indents and grooves in the materials, the bits where he's had to stitch breaks in the suit together.
"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours?" She asks cheekily, raising an eyebrow at him.
"No thanks," he says, "Besides, I can already see yours."
His fingers sweep up the closest leg to him and across the scattered bruises that paint her skin in various purples, blues and mottled yellows.
"How does someone end up so bruised anyway?"
"What can I say?" she grins, "I'm a peach."
A startled laugh bursts out of him, "I think that's just about the worst thing you've ever said."
"Made you laugh though, didn't it?" She grins cheekily at him.
"It did." He sits up, meeting her eyes with those wide lenses of his. His hand reaches up to push some hair behind her ear and she leans, almost involuntarily, closer to him, so close she can almost feel the breath through his mask.
A phone rings, startling them apart and Spider-Man springs back to his end of the fire escape with a high-pitched "shit".
She tries not to laugh at him as he fumbles with his bag and then his phone, cutting the alarm off as it continues to screech loudly at him. Silence descends between them and he stands almost awkwardly, shuffling his weight and tugging at the straps of his backpack.
"I supposed you better go," she says after a moment.
"Uh, yeah, I guess, you know," he stutters, skittering back as she closes the distance between them. He clambers unsteadily onto the railing of her fire escape, "go back to saving cats from trees and the like."
"Uh huh."
"Right, well, I guess this is good night, Mo."
She smiles, reaching forward to kiss him on his masked cheek, "Good night, Spider-Boy."
"Uh yeah, good night!" And he does not so much as jump than fall from the railing and swings off into the night. She watches him go, until his figure is swallowed by the buildings and thwip! is drowned out by the sound of late night city traffic and the occasional loud horn.
"Oh Mo," she whispers to herself, clutching her keyring tightly, "you stupid idiot."
…
When Mo enters gym the next day, her jittery nerves are calmed by the sight of Ned and Peter, their heads bent together, whispering furiously at each other on the bleachers. MJ is behind them, her head buried in a huge book.
Business as usual, she thinks as she approaches her friend, thank god.
"Miss Macdonald, you're late!" Coach Wilson shouts as he wheels in an ancient telly, huffing and puffing as he goes.
"Sorry, coach," she says, "I got held up with Mr Harrington."
"Don't let it happen again."
"Yes, coach," she slides into the seat beside MJ, her cheeks flaming as some students snicker.
"So, how'd it go?" She whispers, leaning towards the boy.
Their heads shoot up to stare at her.
"What do you mean, how did what go?"
"What are you talking about?"
The boys' voices jumble together and she raises an eyebrow.
"The building of The Death Star?" She asks, "You wouldn't shut up about it yesterday."
Relief springs into Peter's eyes before it's shuttered away. Interesting, she thinks.
"Oh! Oh!" Ned cries, "It's, uh, awesome, so big, right Pete?"
"Uh, yeah, there's just so many pieces."
"Uh huh."
"Oh, uh, Mo, I'm gonna need to cancel our study session tonight," Pete says.
"Uhm, ok," she says. "Is everything…alright?"
"Yeah, course, totally, I just gotta do this thing with Ned after school, so."
"Ok," she stares at the boys as they move forward, away from the two girls to start whispering to each other again.
"Have they been like that all day?" She asks MJ.
The girl hums and nods, turning a page.
"That's not normal for them, right?" Mo prods her friend, "Do you think something is going on?"
MJ shrugs, "Who knows what they're up to."
"Thank you, Captain," the coach's voice breaks through her reverie, "I'm pretty sure he's a war criminal now, but whatever I have to show these videos. It's required by the State. Let's do it."
The coach moves to split them up into pairs, and Mo quickly attaches herself to MJ's side.
Her friend raises an eyebrow at her.
"I won't tell Wilson you're doing weights with a book, if you don't tell him that I'm not gonna climb that rope?"
MJ nods.
The pair make their way down to the mats, behind the other groups of teenagers as Wilson sorts out the odd students without partners.
The pair settle at the mats beside Ned and Peter. MJ crosses her legs, eyes already back on her book as Mo drops to the mat.
"Bet I can do more push ups than you, Pete," she grins, at the boy beside her.
His eyes narrow at her, "Really? What's the stakes?"
"The brownies in my lunch."
"Hm."
"For a week?"
There's a glint in his eyes as he leans towards her. His scent is warm, like a freshly baked apple pie, all sugar and cinnamon but clean; the way she remembers crisp Autumn days in her local park back home smelt like.
"Make it two weeks and you've got a deal."
"Uhm, Mo, I don't think that's a great-"
"Deal," she says, cutting across Ned's next words. She holds out her hand and Peter grasps it, shaking it firmly. His touch is warm, skin calloused and the feeling makes her weak at the knees.
"Ned, you alright to officiate?" She asks.
"I guess," he says dully.
"First to 20?"
"I thought the bet was who could do more?" Pete raises an eyebrow with a smirk.
"I know my limits," Mo says. "Most of the time."
He laughs, "Fine, first to 20."
The two get in position, stomachs tucked against the mat, legs straight.
"On your marks, get set, go!"
Mo raises herself quickly, pumping her arms to raise herself up and then back down. Her muscles ache as she pushes through five, then ten, then 15.
But Pete is faster, dropping to the mat at 20, a full seven push ups before her.
She groans as she finishes her twentieth push up, sweat starting to prickle at the back of her neck.
"That was fun!" Pete grins beside her, "Hope you're ready to give up all those brownies, Mo."
She shoots him a glare, "No fair. Since when did you get such big arms."
Pete freezes. Mo flushes as her words catch up to her brain and she scrambles to her knees, "I mean, uh, you're strong?"
Pete's ears are traffic light red, and she's pretty sure her face is the same.
Coach Wilson blows his whistle and they startle, jumping away from each other, "Move stations!"
"I guess, I better," she motions to the station MJ is curled up in, and Pete nods.
"Yeah, I think I got sit ups next so."
They turn awkwardly from each other, and Mo stumbles to MJ, a glance over her shoulder revealing Ned teasing a flustered Pete. He catches her eye, shooting her a shy smile; she ducks behind her hair.
"He likes you."
Mo turns to see MJ, flat on her back, with her book raised in the air.
"What?"
"Peter," she says, glancing at her friend. "He likes you."
"Y-you think?" Mo asks, tucking some hair behind her ear. "I thought he still liked Liz."
"Nah, definitely you," MJ says. "I should know. I see everything."
"Ok?"
"Peter knows Spider-Man!"
Mo whips her head towards Ned as his voice rings throughout the gym hall. Everyone freezes to look at Peter, who's shooting an injured look at Ned.
He springs to his feet, "No, I don't, I mean…"
"They're friends?" Flash mocks, approaching the group, "Yeah, like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends."
"I've met him, yeah, a couple times," Peter stutters at Liz and Betty, his shoulders pinned up at his ears. Mo glances between Pete and Ned.
"But, it's uhm…" He trails off. "Through the Stark Internship."
"Hm," Flash nods, his blase look tainted with the hint of a smirk.
"Yeah, well," he spins to pin Ned with a furious glare, "I'm not really supposed to talk about it."
Oh. Oh.
"Well, that's awesome," Flash saunters towards them, "Hey, you know what? Maybe you should invite him to Liz's party, right?"
Peter and Ned turn to Liz, who shakes her head with a smile.
"Yeah, uhm, I'm having people over tonight you're more than welcome to come."
"Having a party?" Peter asks, his voice tinged with awkward hope. Mo tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest.
"Yeah, it's gonna be dope," Flash answers. "You should totally invite your personal friend Spider-Man."
"Uhm…"
"It's ok," Liz says. "I know Peter's way too busy for parties anyway, so…"
Something dark curls in her gut at Liz's words and Mo frowns.
"Yeah, well he works harder than any of us, so it's no wonder," she pipes up. The group spins to look at her, but her eyes are narrowed at Liz, who almost looks taken aback at her words and a little sheepish.
The sudden eyes on her makes her stomach sink. Her face feels hot and she ducks behind her hair again, averting her eyes.
"Ah, Michelle's little sidekick speaks," Flash mocks. "Standing up for your loser boyfriend, huh?"
"He's my friend, Flash, not that you would know what that was," she fires back, heart hammering in her chest as she speaks.
If Peter's eyes widen at her words, Mo pretends not to notice. Flash holds his hands up in a placating manner.
"No need for the claws, Tiger," he grins. "Besides, he'll be there. Right, Parker?"
Flash walks past Peter, straight to the exit as the bell rings signalling the end of class, and the rest of the students follow close behind.
Mo stands slowly, about to step forward when MJ grabs her arm. Her friend steers her out of the gym hall and away from the two boys.
"Everything ok, MJ?"
"We need to talk."
Mo blinks at her friend as she drags her around a corner and out of sight, "What's wrong?"
MJ glances at Mo as she continues to lead her down the corridor, almost hesitant.
After a moment, she pulls her into the shadows of a staircase with a grimace. Mo leans against the wall as her friend starts to pace.
"MJ?" Mo says quietly.
MJ halts and turns to stare directly at Mo, "I think Peter is Spider-Man."
...
A/N: DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN!
You think this is exciting, I just finished editing Chapter Ten, and ohweeeee it's a belter. Lots of things to be looking forward to friends.