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Peter ditched school. Again.
It’s come to the point where Ned isn’t even surprised anymore, or confused. He just feels empty and a little disappointed.
This is his life now. He’s used to this- coming to school, seeing Peter’s empty desk, not getting a call or a text about his whereabouts.
Hearing about Peter’s stories depicting his fantastical adventures and daring feats while Ned sits in his homeroom class. It’s almost laughable how starkly different their worlds are when they used to be so similar. Peter’s the one who got to escape and have a glimpse of life as a kickass vigilante, living on the edge-
And Ned’s the one who’s still stuck at school while Peter ditches to go on his missions and exploits.
Peter may have an amazing double life, but Ned’s still just Ned, the nerdy Asian kid who goes to school and gets weird looks and builds elaborate Lego structures by himself now.
Ned ducks behind a hallway and yanks out his phone. He dials Peter’s number and holds it to his ear- it rings five times before Peter picks up.
“Hey, Ned!” There’s a swooping sound in the background- Ned is afraid to ask what it is.
“Peter, where are you this time?”
“Bronx!” Peter whoops. “It’s awesome, seriously. Listen, Ned, there are a ton of aliens here, it’s so kickass-”
“That sounds so cool,” Ned admits wistfully.
“It is so cool!!” Peter yells. There’s a loud ringing sound and Peter mumbles, “Oh, shit.”
“Peter? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just an alien gun. No big deal. This suit basically protects me from everything- ah - so everything’s pretty much a breeze now.”
“Okay,” Ned says. “Sounds fake, but okay.” He pauses. “Anyway, I thought we were going to build the Lego Sandcrawler today.”
“No….?” On the other line, Ned can hear the sound of Peter landing on his feet with a thud. “Wait, no. We were gonna build that on Thursday, weren’t we?”
“Today is Thursday,” Ned says with a small sigh. “Peter, you forgot, didn’t you?”
Peter is quiet for a moment, and Ned can hear a distant, muffled explosion on the phone. “Shit,” Peter mutters again. “I didn’t forget, I just- it just slipped my mind, but it’s no big deal, alright? We’ll build it today. I’ll be back at my house in time to build it.”
Ned clicks his tongue. “Fine, I’ll go over to your house after school.”
“Great. Great, I will be there-” There’s a loud crashing sound. “You can trust me- oh my god- just have May let you in-”
“You’re obviously occupied right now, and I doubt talking on the phone’s helping,” Ned says. “I’ll… I’ll see you after school, okay?”
“Alright, see you after school!”
Peter hangs up first.
Ned stands in silence for a few moments, the phone still pressed to his ear.
This is just the way things are now. Peter ditches school and has the time of his life and fights aliens in Bronx and doesn’t miss Ned.
And Ned just...goes to school.
“Hey.”
Ned jumps into the air with a startled cry. MJ is snickering into her palm.
Ned rolls his eyes at her, and MJ asks, “Who were you talking to? Was that Peter?”
Before Ned can respond, MJ interrupts: “Never mind, that was a stupid question. You don’t talk to anybody else, ever.”
“He ditched school again, so I was just checking in on him. Like a good friend.”
“Friend,” MJ says. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re just his good friend, huh.”
“What?!” Ned demands. “We’re just friends, what the hell!”
Ned stares her down, glowering at her. MJ just shrugs and walks away.
Ned can’t help but think she’s got a point, that Peter is the only person he talks to. But Ned’s not the only person Peter talks to- Peter hangs out with Tony Stark and the Avengers and basically the entire world.
Ned grows less and less significant in Peter’s fantastical universe by the day. It’s mildly horrifying to think about, so Ned tries his best to ignore it as he sets back down the hallway.
-
“Ned!” May places a hand on the doorway and pushes up her glasses with the other. “What’re you doing here?”
“Oh, um, I’m here to hang out with Peter? Is he back yet?”
“He never told me you two were going to hang out today,” May says with a frown. Her hands comb through her thin, long hair quickly enough to the point where Ned can see right through her calm facade. “No, he’s still in… Bronx, was it? You know him, he’s just always out and about, fighting aliens and junk. It’s not on TV, so I have to admit, I’m a little worried, but he called me, so…”
May looks up. She’s smiling, but she looks tired, and there’s worry written all over her face. “Anyway, come in,” she says forcedly. “You can hang out in Peter’s room until he gets back. He shouldn’t be too long.”
“Okay, thanks,” Ned says, stepping inside.
The Parker apartment is small and simple, but it’s warm and feels more like home than anywhere else. The TV is on, waiting on the news channel, and Ned can’t help but feel bad for May- that she sits on the couch and watches the news for however long it takes until her nephew comes on the screen.
Today, Spider-Man’s not being broadcasted. May waits tirelessly anyway.
May sits down on the couch and Ned leads himself to Peter’s room. It’s almost like Peter’s never here- Ned forgot the last time he was surprised to open Peter’s door and see that it was empty.
He walks inside and sits down on the bed. And he waits.
It’s all he ever does with Peter now. Wait for him to come back.
Time passes by sluggishly. Ned glances at his phone every so often just to see the time change on his clock.
He takes out the Lego Sandcrawler kit, unpacking it neatly onto Peter’s desk. He builds the base.
It’s boring without Peter here. It has been boring for a long, long time now. Peter’s always gone.
Ned sits back in Peter’s swivel chair and clicks a ballpoint pen. He clicks it over and over again, focusing on the sound of the clicks. Clickclickclickclickclick -
Taking out his phone with one hand, Ned does not cease clicking with the other. He dials Peter’s number single-handed and waits for Peter to pick up.
Peter doesn’t pick up. The ringing of the phone stops and only the clicking of the pen fills the silence of the room.
Ned isn’t sure how much time has passed when May opens the door. Ned swivels around in Peter’s desk chair to look at her.
“Want any snacks? Dinner?” May suggests.
Ned smiles at her. “I’m fine. Thanks, May.”
“If you want, you can come watch TV with me,” May offers. “ Say Yes to the Dress is on.”
“Thank you, but I’m good,” Ned says.
May gives him a one-sided smile. “I’m sorry. About Peter, I mean. I feel like you guys never get to hang out like you used to anymore.”
Ned falls silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He nods his head in agreement and breaks eye contact, his eyes suddenly stinging. He’s scared that if he looks up and meets her soft, sympathetic gaze he’ll break down in front of her, which is totally bad news.
Luckily, his half-hearted nod is enough for May. She walks back out of the room and closes the door with a quiet creak.
May’s right, Ned thinks bitterly to himself. They don’t hang out like they used to anymore.
Everything’s different now.
Ned checks his phone for any missed calls or texts from Peter. There’s nothing.
It’s 6:32 PM.
Ned sighs and gets up from the swivel chair, letting himself fall back to Peter’s bed.
His life is so boring now.
He waits for Peter and Peter doesn’t come.
So boring. Ned closes his eyes.
Boring, boring-
-
Ned has just drifted off to sleep when Peter crashes in through the window.
Ned snaps awake and leaps to his feet with a startled cry. “Peter!!”
Peter’s yanking off his mask, wild-eyed. “Hey, hey Ned! I thought I was gonna be back sooner, I really did- shit, I’m so sorry-”
“Are you hurt? Concussed?”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Despite Peter’s protests, Ned still doubts it. Peter’s being uncharacteristically jittery and seems completely out of it. Then again, it could just be the adrenaline. Peter catches Ned’s skeptical look from across the room and amends, “Didn’t you watch the news?”
Peter’s breathing heavily. His suit drops to the floor and he grabs a soft blue sweater from his closet, pulling it over his head. His curly hair bounces over the collar of the sweater and he yanks it over the rest of his torso.
“It wasn’t on the news today,” Ned says, trying his best not to stare at Peter. Because that’s weird- guys shouldn’t check out their best friends. Ned instantly shuns that thought from his mind; why would he even think that? It’s gross, it’s-
“What?! That’s weird.” Peter pulls his arms through the sweater sleeves hastily. “What time is it? We still have time to build the Sandcrawler, don’t we?”
Ned turns on his phone and sighs. “It’s 9:21,” he says. “It’s too late.”
Peter’s hopeful expression instantly falls. Ned wants to say something, but he’s unsure what. He can read the guilt written all over Peter’s face.
“I should probably get to bed,” Ned says softly.
“No, wait, I didn’t even tell you about today!” Peter says, too quickly. “Dude, there were, like- a hundred aliens out there. Probably more, actually! It was insane. Like, insane. They all had these super awesome weapons and I even got to use some of them against them, they have a crazy kick but it is just so cool-”
The door opens. Both of them turn to see May standing in the doorway, looking wide-eyed.
“Peter,” she says breathlessly, smiling. “Hi. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Peter tells her. “Ned told me I wasn’t on TV today- I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” she says with a slight shake of her head. Somehow, May manages to look both extremely unnerved and relieved all at once when she looks at Peter; it’s very intriguing, really. “Anyway, it’s late, so I’m just going to get a cup of tea and go to bed, okay? Don’t go to sleep too late. Make sure Ned gets home safe.”
“Alright, May.” Peter smiles at her and she closes the door again.
“Don’t talk his ears off,” May adds, her voice muffled behind the door.
Peter scoffs. “I wasn’t talking your ears off, was I? You like to hear about these things, don’t you?”
Ned is about to respond, but Peter continues rambling, almost feverishly. “It was so fun. It was just- just incredible, and I even lifted, like, three cars- just all the adrenaline gave me this crazy rush, you know? And-”
“That sounds amazing,” Ned says. He means it. He doesn’t intend for it to sound irritated, but Peter instantly falters.
“Are you okay?” Peter asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ned says quickly. “It really does sound amazing, Peter. I just… sometimes I wish I could be doing that kind of stuff with you.”
“What do you mean? You’re my guy in the chair-”
“I haven’t done anything ‘guy in the chair’-ish since Homecoming,” Ned points out. “It’s always just- you always just run off, and ditch school without me, and I’m fine with that because I know the world needs saving and all, but… it gets lonely, you know? And boring. It’s, like, you do all this crazy, dangerous stuff, and you live your entire life on the edge and I just-”
Ned flicks the Sandcrawler with one hand.
“Sit in your room,” he finishes. “And build Legos.”
Peter’s face falls. He stares at the Sandcrawler for a long time.
Finally he looks up. His eyes are bright.
“Let’s do something, then,” he says. “Let’s do something totally crazy and adventurous- something you’ve never done before.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Peter admits, looking at the wall. “Don’t you have anything that you really, really want to do?”
Ned thinks. Across from him, Peter anxiously clicks his ballpoint pen.
“I have this bucket list on my phone,” Ned admits.
Peter tilts his head to the side, listening. Ned swallows.
“I mean, it’s like… 100 things to do before I die,” Ned says. “You know how people make bucket lists of these crazy things they want to do before they, you know, kick the bucket-”
“I know what a bucket list is,” Peter says with a grin. “That’s perfect. Let’s do them all.”
Ned blinks, his head snapping up. “All of them?!” he asks.
“All 100 of them,” Peter confirms. “In 24 hours.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” Peter tells him confidently. His eyes glitter and it makes Ned’s stomach flutter.
“24 hours,” Ned echoes. “That- that means I have to skip school, right?”
Peter shrugs. “It’s just one day,” he reasons.
“Awesome,” Ned breathes.
An impish grin spreads on Peter’s face. “Alright,” he says. “What’s first on the list?”
Ned turns on his phone and opens up the bucket list.
“Number one,” he reads out loud. “Hold $10,000 in your hands.”
He looks at Peter. “I told you, this is virtually impossible. Both of us don’t have that much money combined. Maybe we shouldn’t do this-”
“No, no!” Peter cuts him off. “Hey. No. We are going to do this if it’s the last thing I do.”
Peter presses his lips together. He clicks his pen once, and then his eyes light up.
“I know where we can go!” he says. “Okay, start the timer. We’re gonna need some money for the bus.”
“Bus?”
“Yeah, come on!” Peter exclaims. He pulls out his own phone and makes a timer alarm for 24 hours, then starts it.
The two rush into the living room. May is seated at the dining table, holding a cup of tea. She looks up, wide-eyed, and stares at them.
“Oh, hey, you two,” she says. “What’re you-”
“We need some money,” Peter says. “Can I take your credit card for 24 hours? We won’t overspend, I promise.”
“What’re you two doing?” May asks, visibly paling.
“We’re just gonna go on a little trip,” Peter says.
“We’re crossing off my bucket list,” Ned says.
“Oh.” May sets her tea down, furrowing her brow. “Is this… dangerous at all? Should I be concerned?”
“No, this has nothing to do with superhero stuff,” Peter assures her. “We’re just going to have fun like normal teenagers.”
“That’s great,” May says, the color returning to her face. “Oh, Peter, Ned! That’s great! I’m so glad you two are finally getting to do things together.”
Ned smiles at her. Peter awkwardly shifts on his feet.
“We’re sort of on a timer,” Peter says.
“Oh!” May digs into her purse and pulls out a debit card. “Here, Peter, take this. Don’t lose it, okay? Be careful and keep your phone on!”
“Okay, thanks!” Peter calls over his shoulder.
“Bye, May!” Ned adds. The two of them are already rushing out the front door.
“So,” Ned says as he struggles to keep up with Peter’s long strides, “Where are we supposed to get ten grand?”
-
The bus ride to Manhattan is two hours long.
It’s more than worth it when Ned finds himself staring at the Avengers Tower.
“Peter!!” Ned exclaims, and Peter grabs his wrist and pulls him along in tow.
“Come on,” Peter says. “I’m sure Mr. Stark has some money to hold.”
“ Mr. Stark?! As in, Tony Stark?”
Peter nods. Ned almost swoons on the spot.
“This is insane,” Ned says. “Like, insane. Seriously.”
They ascend a flight of stairs and Peter leads them into the lobby. He pulls out his phone and dials a number.
“Hey, Mr. Stark?”
Ned’s eyes grow to the size of saucers. “You’re on the phone with him?!” he whispers. Peter nods, holding a finger to his lips to shush him.
“No, I’m fine,” Peter says. “Are you-”
He pauses.
“Really? You tracked me without my permission again?”
Peter quiets, and Ned can hear the buzzing of Peter’s phone that indicates Tony Stark is lecturing him. Tony Stark , going into dad mode and scolding Ned’s best friend.
“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” Peter says. “Anyway, yes, I’m here, and I need a small favor. Can I- can my friend hold ten thousand dollars?”
There’s a brief pause. Even though the phone’s not on speaker, Ned can hear Tony Stark’s sharp, enunciated “ what?”
“Please,” Peter begs. “It’ll be really fast. It’s important.”
There’s a long pause, and then a heavy sigh that Ned can hear on the other line followed by more jumbled talking. Peter nods, though Tony Stark probably can’t see it.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark, thank you!” Peter says. He looks at Ned with a huge grin.
“He’s waiting in the lounge room,” Peter tells Ned. “Let’s go.”
“Dude, this is insane,” Ned says as he follows Peter into a huge elevator. Peter gives him a smile without teeth and Ned pretends not to be dizzy over it.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Ned breathes quietly.
Peter’s shoulder brushes Ned’s- it’s definitely intentional- and he straightens, nodding in agreement. Ned stares at his shoes and fumbles to put his hands in his pockets.
The elevator dings. Peter walks smoothly out into the room, and Ned can’t help but note how cool he looks, how natural he acts even in the Avengers Tower, and he walks after Peter out the elevator.
His heart nearly stops when he sees Tony Stark himself sitting on a long velvet couch, legs crossed. Tony looks exactly how Ned imagined him- clean and sophisticated, wearing a business suit and dress pants and shoes and rose-tinted sunglasses. He looks so pristine that Ned forgets it’s 12am and they’re sitting in a lounge room.
“Hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, with a small little wave.
“This is important, you said?” Mr. Stark asks, and Peter nods his head vigorously. Mr. Stark’s voice is smooth, almost silky, and extremely pleasant to the ears. Ned finds himself hooked onto each word.
“Very,” Peter adds.
“It better be.” Mr. Stark glances at Ned and Ned feels like his eyes are piercing into his soul, even through his rose shades. “What’s the reason?”
“Um, Peter and I are gonna complete a bucket list with 100 things in 24 hours,” Ned says. He’s almost proud of himself for the fact that his voice didn’t crack, despite how awestruck he is. “And the first is to hold ten grand in my hands.”
Mr. Stark seems unfazed. He pulls his sunglasses off and mutters under his breath, “Teenagers.”
He pulls out a black leather case from behind the couch and thrusts it towards Peter. Peter bucks a little under the weight, then turns to Ned with huge, glittering eyes.
“There’s ten thousand dollars in there?!” Ned exclaims.
“Yep, knock yourself out,” Mr. Stark says, pulling out his phone. “You’ve got 24 hours, though, so I’d hurry if I were you.”
The case opens with a click in Peter’s arms. Peter’s face lights up, and he turns to Ned, holding the case out to him.
“Oh my god,” Ned gushes, his hands flying to his face.
Ten thousand dollars. In the case. It’s separated by hundred dollar bills, but even so, it’s more money than Ned’s ever seen in his life, much less going to hold. They’re lying cleanly in neat rows in the case.
Ned takes out the bills and makes a noise of exhilaration. “This is amazing,” he announces.
Peter laughs and it sounds sweet and harmonic, like a music box strung together by honey. Ned distracts himself by grabbing more of the bills and hugging them to his chest.
“Is it everything you’ve ever dreamed it would be?” Peter asks teasingly.
Ned nods fiercely. “And more.”
A small ring interrupts them. Peter blinks and looks down at his phone.
“It’s been three hours,” he says. “Twenty-one left. We better get going. What’s next?”
“Um..” Ned glances down at his own phone, opening up the list. “Number two- go to the Avengers Tower. Hey, we already got that one!”
“Nice,” Peter says.
“Number three- meet an Avenger.”
Mr. Stark looks up at this. “I can probably help with that one,” he says. “I’m Tony. Nice to meet you.”
“Ned Leeds,” Ned says faintly. Mr. Stark extends his hand and Ned takes it.
His heart is pounding. Oh, Flash would literally combust if he heard about this.
“Next,” Peter says, and Ned jars himself back to reality.
“Uh, number four,” he reads. “Shake hands with Tony Stark- wow, that’s done.”
Tony extends his hands in a half-shrug gesture, then slips his sunglasses back on.
“Alright, moving on,” Ned says. “Number five- try every single flavor of ice cream at an ice cream shop.”
“Oh, that’s not too hard!” Peter chirps.
“There’s one near here,” Tony offers up. “You two knock yourselves out.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter says.
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Tony Stark, sir!” Ned adds.
“There’s two of him,” Tony mutters to himself as they get into the elevator.
-
“Can I have a sample of the coffee one, please?”
The worker tiredly dips the spoon into the mocha-colored ice cream, then holds it out to Ned. Ned pops the fluorescent plastic spoon into his mouth.
“Good?” Peter asks around his own sample spoon.
“I don’t even like coffee,” Ned states. Peter stifles a laugh behind his palm.
“Can I sample the blue raspberry?” Peter asks.
Ned almost feels bad as the worker takes another sample spoon and shovels the ice cream. She hands it to Peter over the counter.
Peter licks the spoon. Ned raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“Not bad,” Peter says.
“Can I sample the-”
“Look,” the worker interrupts. “I don’t know what you guys are doing, but other people do this all the time. Every customer is limited to five samples each.”
Ned falters. He glances to Peter for help.
“Okay,” Peter says with a shrug. “I’ve used all of mine, so I guess you just take the last flavor, right?”
“Yeah. Um, I’ll sample the cherry jubilee, then,” Ned says.
The worker scoops up a sample spoon and hands it to Ned. He licks the ice cream- sweet cherry flavoring with a mild creamy undertone explodes onto his tongue.
“Whoa,” he says. “This one’s really good.”
In a flash, Peter takes the spoon from Ned’s hands and licks the spoon. Ned almost loses his balance, barely able to keep himself upright.
“That is really good,” Peter says decidedly, and hands it back to Ned.
Ned is left standing in the ice cream parlor holding a clean sample spoon, feeling awfully dizzy. He watches with wide eyes as Peter walks out the door and only then does it strike him that he just might have a crush on his best friend.
From behind him, the worker asks irritably, “So you’re not gonna buy anything?”
-
“So we’ve done five so far,” Peter says. “Right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, what’s next?”
Ned swipes to the bucket list. He reads- “Number six, grab a bird.”
Peter’s eyes boggle. “A bird? What the hell does that mean?”
“You know, like… like those pigeons that just land randomly on the sidewalk, and stuff?” Ned says. “Just…”
He extends his hand and makes a squeezing motion. Peter doubles over with laughter and Ned grins, pride bubbling in his chest from being responsible for such a beautiful smile.
“Okay,” Peter says. “That shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll do this one- it’ll probably be easier for me, since I’ve got, like, enhanced speed and stuff.”
The two end up waiting against a parking lot wall, watching intensely for any birds to land on the concrete. They’re shoulder to shoulder. Ned can’t help but wonder how the hell they even got in this situation- standing in an empty parking lot in Manhattan together at 1:00 in the morning, waiting for a bird to land so that Peter can throttle it.
He’s not complaining. This is the best time he’s had in a long, long time.
Peter visibly tenses beside Ned, and he stares out into the wide expanse of the parking lot to see a crow easing its slim body onto the asphalt. Peter turns his head to Ned, lifts a finger to his lips, then begins creeping towards the bird.
Ned watches the entire scene and claps his hands over his mouth to try and keep himself from laughing.
Peter approaches the bird slowly, so low to the ground that he looks like an actual spider. He’s a few feet away from it when he suddenly lunges forward before Ned can even blink.
His hand shoots out and catches the bird around the midsection. The crow instantly begins squawking and flaps its wings so rapidly that Peter’s hand and the bird itself become one huge, colorful blur, and then in an instant the bird is flying away and Peter is rolling on the floor cackling.
“Oh my god,” Ned says, unsure what he just witnessed.
“I’m pretty sure-” Peter gasps, laughing. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. Or at least very, very immoral.”
“It’s not like you hurt it,” Ned says. “You didn’t hurt it, did you?”
“Of course not! If anything, it hurt me. It destroyed my hand, see?”
Peter holds it up for Ned. His skin is red and covered in peck marks that just look like angry red dots.
“Holy shit,” Ned remarks. “Birds don’t carry rabies, do they?”
“I doubt it,” Peter says. “It’s nothing to worry about. Plus, enhanced healing and stuff- it’ll be gone in a few hours. What’s next?”
Ned pulls out his phone. The screen illuminates the darkness of the quiet, abandoned parking lot- the only sounds are crickets chirping. “Number seven- prank call Tony Stark. I doubt he’d like that, plus I don’t even have his phone number, so maybe we should just skip this one-”
He’s interrupted by a loud ringing. Peter’s holding his phone on speaker to Ned’s face.
Ned’s eyes bug out. “What?!”
“Star sixty-seven,” Peter explains. “This is his number.”
“Oh my god,” Ned says. “What am I supposed to say to him?! I’m not prepared for-”
The ringing stops. “ Hello ?”
It’s Tony Stark. Ned wants to slam his head into the brick wall they’re leaning against.
“Say something!” Peter mouths at Ned. Ned bites his lip.
Finally, Ned decides:
“Hey, Tony,” he says in a decent impression of Happy Hogan’s voice. “It’s Happy.”
Peter nearly drops the phone. He claps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing.
“Um, why are you calling me? I told you about this. When we’re in the tower you can just use the intercoms-”
“Actually,” Ned says. “I’m calling because I’m, um. I’m in.. you know. My room…?”
Tony pauses. “ You mean the technology lounge?”
“Yeah, the lounge,” Ned agrees quickly. “And I wet myself. All over the couch. You need to come help me.”
There’s a long pause.
“ Fuck off, Parker, ” Tony says. “ I know what star sixty-seven is.”
There’s a prolonged beep that tells Ned that Tony hung up. Ned and Peter look up at each other over the phone and hold eye contact for a solid two seconds before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
-
“This is a horrible idea,” Ned says.
“It was on your bucket list,” Peter reminds him.
“Still a horrible idea.”
A bed of hot coals is lying on the wood before them. A spark flies out and lands on Ned’s leg- he recoils and cries out in alarm. Peter laughs.
“I’m not doing this,” Ned protests.
“Number eight,” Peter announces in a sports commentator voice, “walk across hot coals.”
“No way.”
“Come on, it’s not even that bad!”
“We’re going to die tonight.”
“Maybe,” Peter admits, “but this won’t be the thing that kills us. Come on, they’re just rocks.”
“They’re smoking!” Ned shrieks.
“Ned,” Peter says in a hushed voice, and it makes every hair on Ned’s neck stand straight up. He forces his eyes to the side. Peter’s face is just a bit too close for comfort, and Ned feels too hot all over. He doesn’t think it’s just the coals. Peter’s eyes look even bigger up close like this, and Ned can see the coals sparking in the reflection of Peter’s wide pupils. It’s a foreign sight, but Ned finds himself unable to look away.
“Trust me.”
Neither of them say a word. The coals sizzle below them.
“And trust physics,” Peter adds.
“Okay,” Ned says grudgingly. “Fine. And only because I trust physics.”
They both dip their feet into the bucket of water that’s lying on the sand beside them. The water is cool and cleansing and Ned thinks it’s the last thing his feet will ever feel again after being burned to crisps by the coals.
“Let’s go,” Peter says. His fingers find Ned’s somehow and they lace through his, and then Ned forgets all his previous fears and distress, succumbing to complete numbness.
They’re holding hands for the first time, Ned thinks. Holy shit. They’re holding hands.
And then they’re also walking across hot coals.
“This was a horrible idea,” Ned says over the sound of the crackling rocks and the smell of smoke.
Peter squeezes his hand tightly.
“It’s not that bad,” Peter says.
-
“Number nine- get a tattoo.”
“No way.” Peter shakes his head so fast that his brown curls bounce up and down. “May would fucking murder me, Ned. We can’t get tattoos.”
“That’d be so badass, though, wouldn’t it?” Ned tilts his head to the side and envisions a vibrant ink dragon on his back, or an elegant ink bird on his shoulder. “So majestic. And cool.”
“I don’t know what you’re picturing in your head, but you need to stop right now,” Peter says. “We’re fifteen. We will definitely regret this later on in life.”
“Please,” Ned asks, looking at Peter with his best puppy eyes. “Pretty please, Peter? It’d be so awesome.”
“No!”
“Please?”
“No,” Peter says firmly, but his tone and expression have both softened slightly. “Let’s move on, Ned.”
Ned thinks for a moment, then proposes a compromise. Peter furrows his brow but leans in, listening to what Ned has to say.
Later, the two walk into the night with matching henna ink spiders on their wrists.
-
The thing about crossing off a wild, extravagant bucket list with your best friend and crush is that you start to notice everything about them.
Noticing isn’t really even the right word. Ned already knows everything about Peter. It’s more like…. he actually starts to recognize the fact that he likes everything about Peter.
The way Peter’s laugh sounds when he smothers it behind his palm, all garbled and whacky but still beautiful. The way Peter’s hair curls softly around his neck like it’s kissing his skin. The way Peter’s eyes scrunch up when he smiles. The way they light up when he has an idea.
It’s all been there for a long, long time. Nothing about it has changed.
Ned’s in love with every single one of those.
-
“That is definitely illegal.”
Ned pouts. “Yeah, but haven’t you ever wondered what it would feel like?”
Peter’s lips press together, the way they do when he’s deep in thought. He runs a hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his curls.
“Yeah,” Peter admits. “But we can’t. We’re underage, and where are we supposed to get alcohol, anyway?”
“Peter, you’re Spider-Man. I’m pretty sure you can figure out a way to get alcohol.”
Peter taps his chin and stares at the ground.
“I might be able to,” Peter says. “Stay here, alright?”
-
Peter returns fifteen minutes later with a plastic bag. He takes out a clear bottle of Vodka and a row of plastic shot cups.
“Oh my god,” Ned blurts, laughing. “How’d you get this?”
“Uh, there’s a liquor store down the street,” Peter explains. “I sort of broke in and took this…?”
Ned’s jaw drops. “No way. You stole from a liquor store? Dude! I thought you were obsessed with responsibility or whatever!”
“I was responsible!” Peter scoffs. “Given my current circumstances, I mean. I left money on the counter to pay for it, so it’s not even stealing.”
“I thought it would be a different color,” Ned notes. “Like…. like green, or something. Clear is so boring.”
“When it’s clear, the alcohol’s usually stronger,” Peter points out. “It’s like drinking hand sanitizer.”
“Seriously?! Isn’t that, like, super toxic?”
“Definitely.”
Peter grabs the Vodka around the neck of the bottle and with his other hand, he grabs the bottle top. He easily pops it off.
Peter looks up to see Ned gawking at him, and explains breezily, “Enhanced strength.”
“Have you ever had alcohol before?” Ned asks.
Peter pours some of the liquid into the plastic cup, handing it to Ned before pouring himself one. Ned takes it- the white plastic is smooth and cool against his bare palms. “I’ve had like, sips of May’s cocktails and stuff. But never anything like this.”
“I’ve never had a sip of alcohol,” Ned confesses.
“Well,” Peter says. “Now you will.”
“Cheers,” Ned says, lifting his cup towards Peter. They touch the rims of the plastic together.
“To first experiences,” Peter suggests.
“There’s a first for everything,” Ned agrees, and the two lift their heads back and drink.
Instantly Ned makes a face, grimacing. “Oh my god- what’s in that?!”
It’s fizzy and makes Ned’s entire head feel like it’s on fire, and his mouth tastes like disinfectant. Peter has a much milder reaction- he simply narrows his eyes and frowns a little.
“That’s what it’s like your first time,” Peter says with a shrug.
“Oh- god. Blegh.” Ned winces and tries not to gag. “I don’t even want any more of that.”
“You’re never gonna be able to cross the number of your bucket list,” Peter says in a soft, sing-song voice, pouring more cups.
Ned sighs heavily, and reaches out his hand. Peter hands him a cup.
“To number ten,” Peter says. “Getting drunk at 2am.”
They both toss their drinks back again. Ned chokes a bit but manages to keep the alcohol down.
“I’m not very fond of this,” Ned says. “When do we actually start getting drunk?”
“I don’t know, but this isn’t really working,” Peter says. “I have a higher metabolism, so I probably go through it faster…”
Peter pours Ned another cup. Ned drinks it and his head begins to swim. Maybe it’s a good sign.
“Aren’t you gonna drink yours?” Ned asks. His words are slightly slurred.
Peter thinks for a moment, then decidedly raises the entire bottle to his lips. Ned makes a small “eep” sound and watches as Peter vigorously drinks for a few seconds, then puts the bottle down.
“That should do it,” Peter says. “Enjoy your last sober moments, Ned.”
“How do I know when I’m drunk, though?” Ned drawls. “Like… I dunno. Would I feel it? Is it like- bam, one second I’m sober and then….”
Ned forgets what he was going to say. Peter’s laughing his music box laugh for some reason- not that Ned’s complaining.
“We did it,” Peter says in a husky voice. “Yay. You’re drunk.”
“I am? Really?”
Peter’s laughing still. He’s not stopping, so Ned thinks it makes sense to start laughing too. They’re both laughing and it’s fun.
“Hey- hey,” Ned says between giggles. “Don’t you think 24 hours is, like, waaay too long? We should change it to 1 hour or something. We could totally do that.”
“No way! If anything we need longer,” Peter says. Then he starts giggling again. “Oh my god, Ned, you’re swaying. That is soooo funny-”
Then Peter loses his balance and falls off the ledge they’re sitting on. Ned breaks into fits of uncontrollable laughter- Peter joins him, his face still against the floor.
“Do, um- Do spider stuff!” Ned orders.
“‘Kay,” Peter says. “I’ll climb back up. Watch. Watch me. Watch. Watch this.”
“Okaaay, I’m watching, god.”
Peter puts his hands against the ledge and begins to scale it. Ned laughs so hard he thinks his stomach will just explode.
“What?” Peter says.
“You look like a fuckin’ spider,” Ned barks out through laughter. Peter giggles below him.
“That’s why I’m Spider-Man, idiot.”
“Ohhh, you’re right.”
“Let’s ca-” Peter hiccups. “Let’s call MJ.”
“Oh my god, yes.” Ned turns on his phone but the screen is too bright and makes him wince. His vision is swarming him. Peter takes the phone from him and dials in the number for him, then turns it on speaker so both of them can hear.
The phone rings four times before MJ picks up. “ What the fuck do you want, idiot? It’s 2:37 in the morning.”
“Peter wanted- Peter wanted to, um, Peter wanted to say hi to you!” Ned says, too loudly.
“Hiiii,” Peter says, giggling. “Hi, Karen.”
“No, Peter!” Ned scoffs. “That’s MJ, stupid.”
“Oh, right,” Peter says. “MJ. M-Bae.”
“... Are you two high ?”
“No, ‘course not! Never!” Peter exclaims. “Drugs are soo bad. Like, soooo bad. Don’t- don’t do kids, drugs.”
“ Where are you right now ?” MJ asks. “ Do you need me to pick you guys up?”
“We’re in… Manhattan, right?” Ned asks Peter.
“Yeah,” Peter agrees.
“Yeah, we are… we are Manhattan.”
“ I’m not going that far ,” MJ says. “ You two are screwed, sorry. Have fun. Call Stark if you need medical attention, he can help way more than I can.”
“Byyyeee!” Peter chirps. “Love youuu!”
“Love you, Michelle,” Ned says.
“Call Stark!!” Peter tells MJ. “Call Stark, he’ll help way more!”
“Love you, Michelle,” Ned says, and ends the call.
“It’s so dark in here,” Peter observes. “Like, where are the lights? Let’s… let’s- find some… lights.”
“Look in the ground,” Ned says. “People probably.. buried lights- in the sand, y’know?”
“Yeah,” Peter slurs. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Peter and Ned both drop to the ground and start digging up the sand.
“This is fun!” Peter whoops.
“Yeah,” Ned agrees. “This is sooo fun-”
-
Ned wakes with a splitting headache.
He realizes he’s lying in the sand, his legs tangled with Peter’s. Peter is completely knocked out across from him. Wincing, Ned forces himself to a sitting position, curling his legs back into himself.
“Ow…” He nurses his aching temples, rubbing his fingers against them, and then leans over to Peter. “Peter. Peter, hey, wake up.”
Peter shakes his head. “I’m tired, May,” Peter mumbles. “I don’t wanna.”
“Peter, wake up, it’s me. It’s Ned.” Ned turns his phone on. The screen is bright and Ned lifts a hand to shield his face, as if the brightness itself will burn his skin off. Once his eyes adjust to the phone, he gawks. “Oh my god-!”
“Whaa…?” Peter grimaces and sits up too, rubbing his eyes.
“It’s 1:32pm,” Ned says. “We slept all night. We don’t have that much time left to finish the bucket list.”
“What happened last night?” Peter asks, wincing. He places a hand against his head.
“We got totally drunk, remember?”
It sounds strange to say aloud. When you say things out loud, it feels so much more real. Like it could’ve been a dream or a wild fantasy that they got completely wasted last night, but now that Ned’s said it out loud, it’s the truth.
And it’s still hard to believe. Peter and Ned are the least likely candidates in probably the entire universe to end up stoned at 2am on an abandoned beach in Manhattan, but it happened anyway. Today’s a good time for breaking the laws of the universe.
“Oh my god.” Peter shakily tries to get to his feet, resulting in him falling back to his rear. “We are so fucking stupid.”
“We gotta go,” Ned says. “We don’t have time.”
“Right, right,” Peter mumbles. “Just- give me a minute, I-”
Peter turns to one side and vomits violently. Ned cringes and looks away as Peter empties his stomach onto the sand.
“Oww,” Peter murmurs. “That- that wasn’t fun.”
“You drank way more than me last night,” Ned recalls.
“Yeah, but I have a higher metabolism,” Peter insists. “So everything should be just fine. I should be fine by now-”
He gags and then vomits more. Ned covers his eyes.
“Oh my god,” Ned mumbles.
Peter finally stops throwing up and lies back in the sand, gasping. He looks at the mess and his eyes squint a little, not focused.
“Oh, ew,” Peter says. “That’s nasty. I’m gross.”
“Are you gonna be okay?” Ned wonders.
“I’m fine,” Peter reassures him. “I’m fine, I’m just a little dizzy. Let’s go, what’s next on the list?”
“Number eleven,” Ned reads from his phone. “Ride the cyclone ten times in a row.”
“Okay, that’s… that’s Coney Island. Meaning we need to get to another bus.” Peter gets to his feet and staggers forward. “Let’s go.”
“That was probably the worst decision we’ve ever made in our entire lives,” Ned says.
“No regrets,” Peter says before losing his balance and falling face-first into the sand.
-
The bus ride to Coney Island is about an hour long but it feels like so much longer.
Both of them are seated on the bus bench. Peter hasn’t said a word- he’s busy tending to his headache. Ned’s own head is throbbing, too, but he doesn’t want to complain since Peter drank probably half the bottle.
They’re basically teenage thugs now. The thought surfaces in Ned’s mind, but he doesn't’ want to say it out loud and acknowledge it.
The bus jolts and Ned and Peter both lurch forward. Ned’s headache swims and beside him, Peter sucks in a breath.
Ned decides that being drunk is pretty fun, but definitely not worth the hangover.
“May doesn’t have to know about this,” Peter says. “Okay? Actually, nobody needs to know about this.”
“Of course not,” Ned says. “What happened last night stays between us.”
Peter nods tiredly and lets his head drop. “I need a distraction,” he mumbles. “What’s next on the list?”
“Um…” Ned opens his phone. “Number twelve- write a book.”
“Oh, easy,” Peter says. “D’you have paper?”
“No.”
“A pen?”
“No.”
Peter raises his eyebrows and takes a breath, rubbing his forehead. “Okay, then just write it on your phone notes or something.”
“How are we supposed to write a book? We’re hungover and on a moving bus. Not exactly the best place for writing.”
“Well, every book has a beginning, and an end,” Peter says, giving Ned a pointed look. “So as long as we have both those things….”
“Oh,” Ned says. “Ohhh.”
He types out, “Once upon a time…. the end.”
“Perfect,” Peter says.
“I feel like this is cheating,” Ned says, shutting his phone off.
“The only person you’d be cheating is yourself,” Peter points out, and Ned nods in agreement.
They ride the rest of the way to Coney Island in silence. The bus hums softly, rolling over the road and crunching rocks under the wheels, and Ned’s headache slowly eases away.
Ned glances to the side, where Peter’s hand is resting on the bus bench between them. His eyes settle on the curve of Peter’s wrist, where the ink spider peeks out from below his sleeve.
Everything becomes suddenly real. They did that. They got matching tattoos, even if they’re just temporary ones. This is all really happening.
Ned hasn’t ever had this much thrill in his life, much less all in the span of 24 hours. As he listens to the steady purr of the bus wheels, he can’t help but think about when all of this is over.
Three weeks from now, the spiders on their wrists will fade away and Peter will be back to ditching school and forgetting about Ned. Three weeks from now, Ned will be sitting alone in his homeroom again and everything will be exactly the way it was before.
Everything is temporary, Ned thinks quietly to himself as his fingers rest against his own wrist.
-
As soon as they finish the tenth ride on the Cyclone, Peter collapses against a wall.
“I can’t see straight,” Peter mumbles. “Oh, my god. That was a horrible idea. I was already dizzy from last night.”
“C’mon, we gotta go,” Ned says faintly. He feels on the verge of collapse himself, but it’s 3:41 and they need to get to the other things on the list.
“Okay, okay. I think I’m okay. I’m just- I’m just tired,” Peter says. He runs a hand through his messy curls and looks up at Ned. “What’s next?”
“Number thirteen- run down an up escalator,” Ned says. “That’s fairly easy. There was a mall down the street from here.”
“Alright,” Peter says. “Let’s do this.”
-
A plate of frog legs and a tree climbing later, Ned and Peter are back on the cramped New York bus.
Number sixteen on the bucket list has high demands for Ned to steal a street sign with his name on it. After a minute-long Google search, the two discovered that Leeds Street just happens to be in Staten Island (“We are so fucking lucky,” Ned had said. “Leeds isn’t even a common name, and Staten Island is fairly close.”).
The bus rattles a bit, throwing them forward. Ned grabs onto a pole and Peter is tossed against Ned’s side.
Ned glances at his phone. It’s 4:20.
“Hey, look, it’s 4:20,” Ned says with a quiet laugh.
Peter is unresponsive.
Ned glances back to Peter’s limp body curled up against his own side and goes frigid. Peter’s face is relaxed in sleep, his eyes closed and widely displaying his long, curled eyelashes.
His curly head comes to a rest in the crook of Ned’s neck, and Ned peels his eyes away. Peter’s asleep on his shoulder. Peter’s asleep on his shoulder.
Ned’s heart is practically beating out of his ribcage. He can’t help the stupid smile that spreads on his face.
So far today, they’ve thrown up, recovered from hangover, gone on a roller coaster until they were sick, fell down an escalator multiple times, eaten frog legs, nearly fallen out of a tree- and Peter fell asleep on Ned’s shoulder.
So Ned thinks it’s safe to say that it’s been a pretty good day.
Maybe Ned’s right that everything’s temporary, that nothing lasts forever, but the feeling of Peter’s soft, curly head in the crook of Ned’s own neck won’t leave him for a long, long while.
-
The bus slows to a stop.
Ned just remains sitting for a moment, not wanting to move in fear of Peter waking up. Then again, Peter has to wake up so they can get off the bus.
It’s like having a pet dog fall asleep on you. You love the dog so much and it's so pure and beautiful while sleeping that you want to let it sleep forever, even if it means you have to stay in a fixed position for hours on end. Even if it means stopping the entire world just so it can have those extra few minutes of sleep.
That’s when you know you love someone, too, Ned supposes.
Reluctantly, Ned lifts his arm from where it had been resting around Peter’s shoulder and shakes Peter gently. “Hey. Peter. Wake up.”
“Hmm…?” Peter’s head lolls on Ned’s shoulder and he lifts his head up, blinking the grogginess from his eyes. “Where are we?”
“Leeds Street, remember?”
“Right,” Peter says. He stretches his arms and rubs his eyes. “Okay, let’s go.”
The two get off the bus and find themselves standing directly under the street sign. Ned stares up at it, squinting through the sunlight that shafts into his vision, and lifts a hand to act as a visor so he can see. The green rectangle is hanging only a few feet above them, with the word “LEEDS” printed neatly in white across it.
“I can get that easy,” Peter says as the bus rolls away, “but I don’t want anyone to see, so we have to make this really fast, okay? I’m gonna take it, you’re gonna hold it, we’ll take a picture, and then it goes right back. Okay?”
“Alright,” Ned says.
Peter glances around. Luckily, the street is empty, so nobody’s watching- he easily scales the street pole and unhinges the sign.
“It’s a lot heavier than it looks,” Peter says, hauling it into his arms. He climbs back down the pole and hands it to Ned.
Ned takes it and holds it up with a smile. Peter whips his phone out and snaps a picture.
Peter’s eyes light up. “Cute,” he says quietly.
“What was that?” Ned asks.
“Nothing,” Peter says. “I said, ‘cool.’ Let’s go.”
-
“Okay, it’s 7:21,” Ned says. “It was 9:30 when we left, meaning we have just under two hours left.”
“Alright, we’re gonna have to grind,” Peter says fiercely. “What’s next?”
“Number seventeen,” Ned says. “Watch the sunset on the beach.”
“Sun sets at 7:45,” Peter tells him, looking at his weather app. “Which means we have a little more time before that. What’s after that?”
“Number eighteen, buy and use sparklers after sundown.”
“Perfect!” Peter says with a bright smile. “We can get the sparklers, watch the sunset, and then use them.”
-
Peter returns to the beach with another plastic bag in his hand. Ned gestures frantically for him to come over- “The sun’s about to set, hurry!”
Peter sits in the sand beside Ned and drops the plastic bag on his other side. The two turn their faces towards the sky.
The sun looks like it’s melting into the sea as it slowly dissolves beneath the horizon, and the sky’s all rosy and orange and streaked with cotton-candy colored clouds. Even as the sun sinks from view, the night doesn’t get instantly dark or even cold at all. Everything’s steady and soft.
And just like that, the day melts away, and it’s gone. There’s something so delicately sentimental about the fact that it’s gone forever.
Nothing lasts, Ned reminds himself, but it still hurts to think about it.
“Are you okay?”
Ned turns. Peter is looking at him, his head still turned towards the horizon.
“You look like you’re thinking,” Peter says.
“I’m fine,” Ned assures him. Peter turns back to the sunset, but Ned’s gaze stays fixed on his best friend. The sun illuminates a sliver of Peter’s face and makes his eyes look brighter. The sand is warm and soft under them. Peter’s eyelashes are being kissed by the light, his features sharp at all the right places.
Ned wishes more than anything that he could stay like this forever, the sand under his toes, the sun on his skin, with Peter by his side. Now that the day’s coming to an end, he can feel how much he’s going to miss this past 24 hours. He wants to freeze this moment in time and stay here until he dies.
In three weeks, Ned will be longing for this moment again, wishing his tattooed spider would reappear on his wrist, aching for the feeling of Peter beside him.
In three weeks Peter will forget about this and go back to his fantastical world of living.
-
“Ready?”
Ned nods.
Peter lights his sparkler, and the flame ignites it instantly. It bursts to life, crackling with bright heat in Peter’s hand.
Peter’s eyes are huge. He laughs and holds it out in front of him- it looks like an exploding star, bursting in the night, or a glittering heart that’s beating just for Peter.
“This is amazing,” Peter says. Ned stands a few feet away, watching in awe.
Peter glances up, locking eyes with Ned, and a warm, soft smile spreads on his face. He lifts his wrist and swiftly draws a heart in the air with the sparkler- the sparks linger in the air for less than a second, but it’s long enough for the image to burn into the night.
Ned can feel the heat radiating from the sparkler onto his face, and he stares at the heart. It blazes into his vision, and even after it fades away, it leaves bright spots dancing before his eyes in the shape of it.
He glances back to Peter. Peter’s face fits perfectly in the shape of the heart’s bright silhouette. A soft, secretive smile has made its way to Peter’s face as he waves the sparkler in the air.
Ned hasn’t realized how much he’s longed for Peter until now.
-
“So how many was that, again?”
“Eighteen.”
“Damn.” Peter looks at Ned with a small laugh. “That basically means we only got 18% done.”
“Better than 17%,” Ned points out, and Peter affectionately shoves his shoulder. Ned smiles to himself.
Peter takes a small breath beside Ned that sends shivers down Ned’s spine. “I still wish we could’ve done more… I’m really sorry, Ned. I thought this would be…. amazing, or super spectacular, and it just-”
“Are you kidding me?” Ned asks incredulously, staring at Peter. “This was perfect.”
Peter lets himself smile, his thin arms wrapping around his knees.
“We’ll do the rest of them, okay?” Peter says. “Someday.”
Ned stares out at the deep blue sky. Stars are beginning to bloom across the expanse of the night.
“Yeah,” Ned agrees. “Someday.”
“Well,” Peter says. “It’s 9:29. We have a minute left, so we have room for one more, don’t we?”
Ned laughs. “I guess so. It’d have to be a short one.”
“Let’s take a chance, then,” Peter says. “What’s number 100 on the list?”
Ned opens up the list and scrolls down to the bottom.
“Number 100,” he reads. “Kiss someone on the beach.”
Ned laughs nervously when Peter doesn’t say anything. “Guess we can’t do that one,” he starts saying, before Peter is turning his head to him.
“Why not?” Peter asks, his eyes shining.
Ned swallows. His stomach is twisting into knots.
“I mean,” Ned stammers out. “I mean, we- we can, but I- but you-”
Peter leans in close and closes the distance between them. Ned feels like a sparkler, exploding with heat in the cold night air- he stiffens at first, but lets himself relax into Peter’s touch. Peter’s hand is touching his face, and it’s all he can feel. He lets his own fingers curl into the back of Peter’s curly head and all he feels, all he knows is Peter, Peter, Peter-
A loud beep interrupts them. Peter draws back, pulling out his phone.
“It’s 9:30,” Peter says with a sheepish, nervous smile. “24 hours.”
“I guess we’d better head back, then,” Ned says. “We’ve still got school tomorrow, and-”
Peter’s fingers lace through Ned’s. Ned looks at Peter’s hand, where his spider tattoo is peeking out from his wrist.
“Stay,” Peter says. “Just for a little while.”
As if Ned could refuse him.
-
They make it last.
-
On the bus ride back to Queens, Peter falls asleep on Ned’s shoulder again. Ned takes Peter’s hand in his own and gently strokes his thumb over Peter’s tattoo.
Ned thinks about everything- about the Avengers Tower, about Tony Stark, about the ice cream, about the black crow, the prank call, the hot coals, the tattoos, the fizzy Vodka and the awful hangover that followed, the six-word novel, the Cyclone, the escalator and the frog legs and the tree, the Leeds Street sign, the sunset, the sparklers-
And he thinks about Peter, most of all. Peter Parker. His best friend.
His best friend who he’s in love with, who he kissed on the beach after the sun went down.
Maybe things will be the same after this. Maybe everything will go back to the way things were before in just three weeks.
Maybe it won’t.
That maybe is enough for Ned, at least for now. He lets his head rest beside Peter’s, and he closes his eyes and lets himself sleep, too.
They sleep the entire bus ride back to Queens, wrapped around each other tightly.
-
The next morning when MJ comes to school, Ned and Peter aren’t in class.
During break, they don’t come to their usual table, either. MJ shouldn’t care about them- and she doesn’t- but she’s just mildly curious, especially after the sexy late night phone call they gave her.
MJ lets herself walk through the school hallways with her nose in a book, wandering past the empty classrooms, and through the school exit. She walks out and heads towards the entrance gate.
She stops in front of the football field, where the tall oak tree rests, and stares.
The two are fast asleep against each other under the tree, holding each other’s hands tightly. She bends down and squints- she can see glimpses of black ink creeping out from under both their sleeves in the same places.
Matching tattoos, holding hands….
MJ turns on her heel and walks away.
“Called it,” she mutters to herself, opening up her book.