We both stared at each other wide-eyed for two full seconds before I sprinted to throw unfolded blankets behind the TV and May ran to answer the door.

"He's here!" She shrilled again in a hushed whisper.

"Yes, May, I know," I said as I tried to catch my breath as I ran around trying to clean up. "You've said that already."

"I know, I'm just so -"

"Answer the door!"

"Okay, okay!"

She flung the door open with a lot more energy and force than was necessary. In the doorway was standing a man (well, I'm sure you could guess that). He had a large stomach with dirty blonde hair and a small, well-kept beard. He was wearing a suit that looked like it had fit twenty years ago, but in his right hand was clutched a bouquet of violet irises.

"Hi," he said, a smile plastered behind the facial hair.

Well, if you had to ask me, it looked more like peach fuzz than a man's beard. See, Mr. Stark or Thor had it down; this Mason guy was nothing next to them.

I snorted at this thought, and both of them turned to look at me. I covered it up by pretending to break out into a coughing fit.

"Well, come in! Come in! Mr. Mason, this is my nephew, Peter, who I told you about," May started as she stepped aside to invite the man in and shut the door behind him.

"Oh, please, just Phineas. No need to bother with this Mr. Mason stuff." His voice was slightly nasally and higher than I had expected it be. Of course, if I was being completely honest here, it was nothing compared to my own squeakiness.

Dang it, why did I just say that? Sorry, ignore that last comment.

"Um, sit down! I hope you like ravioli," Aunt May said, showing him to his seat. She gave me that look, and I scurried towards the table.

"Of course. I love anything, especially that's home-cooked," came Mr. Mason's - Phineas's - response. "And by the smell and looks of this, it will far exceed my expectations."

Man, this guy sure knew what to say. To be honest, I was expecting some socially-awkward weirdo that had somehow obtained my aunt's sympathy. But this dude? He seemed pretty skilled in the gift of tongues, if you asked me.

We started to eat and broke into small talk. Well, May and Phineas talked while I sent a few texts to Happy.

"Hey, what's up? Any new missions for me?" Then, a little while later, "I got another churro today. Not from an old lady this time, though."

As I hit send, I jumped when my name was spoken.

"So, Peter, I hear you're pretty smart."

I quickly looked up and away from my screen, tucking the device under my thigh hastily.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," I replied, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, he's being modest. He's on the Decathlon team for his school, and he even internships for Tony Stark," May piped, beaming with pride.

"Really?" Phineas seemed interested in this. "Then you must have been in the D.C. accident just a little while ago, right? I had a friend of mine's daughter who was in there."

"I, uh…" Shoot, what was I supposed to say? I couldn't say I wasn't in the elevator, because I had been. I couldn't say I wasn't harmed, because - trust me here - that long fall definitely hurt. And couldn't say I was the ground, or I hadn't been there at the time, or anything. "I survived, so everything's alright," I replied at last, gulping. I had never been a good actor.

He laughed. "Well, obviously! And tell me about your internship. Do you ever get to see the Avengers? The invincible Iron Man, or, say, the amazing Spider-Man?"

It was then that I noticed the strange glint in his eyes that I had failed to observe before. My spidey-senses twitched, and I felt the hairs on my skin rise.

"Yeah," I started slowly. "Spider-Man's a cool guy." I nodded my head to help my cover. "And Iron Man. He's super tough. Oh, and don't get me started on Vision." I tried to take the attention off my secret identity.

He nodded once. "Cool beans, little dude." After that, he turned back to Aunt May and they started animatedly talking again about work and bills and coupons.

After we all were finished eating, the adults still sat there talking and fangirling over a Bath and Body Works sale. Like I said, this man wasn't the manliest of men.

While they chatted, I took their dishes and washed them, since I was bored out of my mind and still feeling bad for leaving Ned and lying to his mom and my aunt. And for not telling May about my alter ego that went out every night to fight crime. I have always hated guilt. And lying. And keeping secrets. Doing some chores helped calm my sinful conscience; but when I was done, the grown-ups were still sitting on their butts and talking.

I stood in front of the door and yawned loudly, stretching my arms and back melodramatically. Luckily, I caught my Aunt May's attention and she saw me and looked at a clock.

"Oh, my, look at the time. I think it's time for Peter to head to bed." She stood up, and Mr. Mason did, as well.

"Whelp, I should get going. I've got a long day at work tomorrow. Peter, if you ever want to talk Avengers and alien tech, gimme a call. Your aunt will know where to find me," he said, pushing his chair in and heading towards me and the door.

I nodded, excited at the prospect of getting to go to a S.H.I.E.L.D. base or something, before remembering the odd look in this man's eyes, and caution reentered my stomach.

We said our farewells before May handed him his coat and opened the door. We waved for the final time before my aunt slowly shut the door.

I was still trying to not be offended by the whole "bed-time" thing, but I obeyed as May shooed me towards my room. I was still feeling off-guard from my spidey-sense going off, and I had no idea why. I had never heard of this guy before, and he seemed pretty nice.

But…

I crawled into bed, my mind trying to push our guest out and let fantasies of kicking butt alongside Iron Man lull me to sleep.