Chapter Text
“Jungkook, what’s going on with you?”
There it was.
He’d been dreading the question for months.
Ever since that unfortunate field trip, ever since he’d starting sticking to walls and skipping school stuff for the real world, he’d run from that question with as many excuses as possible: I can’t, I have internship stuff. I can’t, Aunt Sunmi won’t let me leave the house after dark. I can’t, I have to meet Mr. Kim after school.
But Jimin didn’t give a shit.
Jungkook dropped into his seat, panting slightly on account of having run a mile to school after stopping a robbery ten blocks away. Jimin leaned his chin on his hand, eyebrows raised, pink lips threatening to quirk into a knowing smile. Their other Academic Decathlon teammates fell silent, looking at Jungkook expectantly.
“Uh. There’s nothing going on with me. I’m just busy with my internship.”
“Okay. If you say so,” Jimin responded sweetly. His still-raised eyebrows clearly told Jungkook he wasn’t convinced. “Our next practice is tomorrow, same time. I hope you’re not late again, Jungkook.” His gaze briefly traveled down past Jungkook’s sweaty face for some reason, then dropped to the notecards in his hands as he cleared his throat. “What is the most abundant element in Jupiter’s atmosphere?”
Jungkook let a minuscule sigh of relief escape him. Taehyung poked him and wiggled his eyebrows. “He’s so into you today,” his best friend mouthed.
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No fucking way,” he mouthed back, and snapped his eyes back to Jimin in case it looked like he wasn’t paying attention. And also to maybe check for signs that the brunette was perhaps into him.
Judging by Taehyung’s silently shaking shoulders, he probably looked like a forlorn puppy in desperate, one-sided love.
Yeah, that was him, alright.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Kim. Seriously. I-I- this is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, oh my god-”
“Take a breath before you explode, kiddo. And how many times have I told you to call me Seokjin?”
“Uh. Sorry.” There was a sound like glass smashing, and someone yelled about a wig. He wrinkled his nose. “What was that, Mr. Kim? Are you okay?”
“Seokjin,” the man said firmly. “It’s Seokjin. Or Jin. For God’s sake, please not Mr. Kim. And I’m fantastic. In fact, I’m currently in bed, watching Love and Hip Hop and sipping some very finely aged Chardonnay, so if you don’t have any pressing questions…”
“Oh. No, no I don’t. Okay. I’m hanging up now. Thank you for everything, Mr. Kim- I mean- uh- Mr. Seokjin, sir!”
There was an amused, slightly squeaky laugh and a click, and the call disconnected. Jungkook felt his entire face light up again as he looked down at what he’d just pulled out of the brown paper bag waiting for him on his bed.
No more awkward spandex and terrible goggles. No more dumpster diving. No more Youtube videos of all the times Spider-Man accidentally smacked into a building because he ran out of web fluid. This suit was his chance to join the professionals.
“Does this make me an Avenger?” he wondered out loud as he held up the suit reverently. Seokjin Kim would likely say no, but that didn’t dampen Jungkook’s enthusiasm in the slightest.
After making sure his aunt was still out buying groceries, he hurriedly stripped down to his boxers and stepped into the suit. In the middle of his chest there was a little spider logo, and when he hit it, the suit compressed itself to fit the contours of his body. A digital display blinked to life in front of his eyes as he pulled the mask over his nose.
Experimentally, he aimed his wrist at the wall and pressed down. His own formula came thwipping out from the web shooters, twice as fast as before. Jungkook grinned, delighted, the eyes on his mask narrowing of their own accord.
It was barely six. He had a single Spanish quiz to study for, and he could do that before school tomorrow. If he left now, that would give him more than six glorious hours of just him, the new suit, and hundreds of crimes to stop.
Jungkook ran to his bedroom window, flipped over the sill, and whooped as he let himself fall ten feet before swinging in a wild arc above some startled pedestrians. He giggled like a madman as he flew through the familiar alleyways and backstreets, the intuitive new suit feeling like a second skin.
After a few minutes of reckless careening, midair backflips, and the occasional freefall, he sobered up and grew serious. Seokjin had given him this suit because he had a job to do, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do it as well as he possibly could.
As he made his way towards the busiest areas of the borough, where crime tended to be more concentrated, people began to recognize him.
“Hey! It’s Spider-Man!”
Jungkook did a backflip in midair, landing in a crouch on what happened to be the underside of a fire escape, and waved down at the girl pointing up at him. She beamed and clapped. A few people took videos of him with their phones as he swung away, smiling as widely as he could under his mask.
“Your new costume’s fuckin’ dope,” someone yelled after him.
“I know, right?” Jungkook hollered back, giving him a haphazard thumbs up.
A few minutes later, as he was flying past what seemed like an empty alleyway, a sixth sense tingled at the base of his neck. He’d begun to nickname that strange feeling of foresight his spidey sense, and when it made its presence known, there was always trouble nearby.
Jungkook came to a complete stop on the wall of the alleyway, listening hard.
“Give it to me,” someone was insisting harshly several feet away. His enhanced hearing picked up the second person’s scared, stilted breaths, and he instantly knew he’d stumbled on a mugging.
Clinging to the the wall, he quickly moved towards the sounds. There were just two people involved: one tall and intimidating, the other smaller and shaky.
“Please, I don’t-”
The taller figure pulled out a gun, and Jungkook knew it was his time to intervene.
“Wow, a mugging in an alleyway before sunset. Smart!"
When the mugger jerked towards him, Jungkook webbed the gun right out of his hands and flung it far away, lightning fast. “It’s not even dark outside,” he called over the man’s string of very creative curses. “You should be home for dinner, not out mugging poor ladies. I know I’d rather be eating some pizza right now.”
Jungkook easily dodged the wildly swinging fists that came rushing at his face. But what he wasn’t expecting was for the man to then pull out another gun from his coat, this one much larger and strange-looking.
In fact, it looked downright alien, like it was fashioned out of some sort of rock that clearly wasn’t from this planet.
“Where the hell did you get tech like that?”
The man pulled the trigger before he could be disarmed, and Jungkook was suddenly hovering, suspended in midair inside a glowing purple beam.
“What the fuck!”
His voice came out weirdly pitched and everything looked distorted, like he was inside a fishbowl. It felt like he was underwater and fifty miles above earth at the same time, everything aching and turning bright white from pain. He desperately flailed around until he was aiming in approximately the right direction, then webbed the man’s hand to the wall of the alleyway.
The gun went clattering to the floor and when it released Jungkook, he went flying into a brick wall, face-first. He groaned as he flopped to the floor, dazed and certain that his cheek and forehead would have several nasty bruises.
When he realized the man was trying to unstick himself, Jungkook leapt to his feet as fast as he could and webbed him up completely. He stumbled off to assess the would-be victim, who was off cowering to one side.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
She said she was, and Jungkook made sure she wasn’t injured, only shaken up. He took her to the other side of the alleyway, on autopilot as she thanked him profusely and called the police.
He looked back at the gun lying on the ground, noticing that something in its core was glowing softly purple. Jungkook definitely did not want to try and touch it again. He webbed it up and deposited it a few feet away from the woman, telling her not to go near it. The police would pick it up; they would know what to do a lot better than he did in the moment. Most likely, they’d give the weapon to Seokjin or some other scientist for analysis.
As soon as he heard approaching police sirens, Jungkook escaped the scene, shaky and shell-shocked. He scaled an abandoned building nearby and sat down on the edge of the roof.
The sun was setting, and Jungkook pulled his mask off with trembling fingers to take some deep breaths. He noticed distantly that his nose was bleeding, and he tipped his head back and pinched his nose bridge as blood dripped onto the front of his suit and his fingers.
He watched as the setting sun lit up the edges of his city and slowly relaxed, able to think properly again.
What was that strange weapon, and why the hell was it in the possession of a common criminal? He waited until his nose stopped bleeding, then pulled his phone out of the secret pocket in his suit and dialed Seokjin.
“Mr. Kim?”
“Spiderkook, what’s up?”
“I, uh…” Jungkook gathered himself. Being shaken up wouldn’t do him any good. “I just stopped this mugging, and the guy had this crazy, insane weapon that looked like it was made out of this weird rock and it was glowing purple? And when he shot at me, uh, it suspended me in midair, and I- what I’m trying to say is, I’m sure it was some sort of alien gun, and this low level street mugger was just holding it casually. And I didn’t know what to do, and these people depend on me but I barely got away and if that kind of weapon ends up in some powerful criminal’s hands-”
“Jungkook, take a breath,” Seokjin said, his voice strangely gentle.
The unfamiliar sound in his tone, like he was trying to soothe a spooked animal, made Jungkook realize he was panicking a little. He forced himself to breathe again. “Okay. Okay. Sorry.”
“First, slow down and tell me if you’re okay.”
“Yes, sir. I’m okay. Just a little bruised.”
“Good. Keep breathing, slowly. You’re safe and there’s no need to freak out right now.”
Listening to Seokjin’s uncharacteristically serious, calm voice made Jungkook’s heartbeat gradually slow down.
“So what I got from you: Joe Average got his hands on some advanced tech, started swinging it around like a kitchen knife. Someone out there must be distributing illegal weapons, probably cobbled together from leftover Chitauri tech if the details you mentioned are accurate. I’ll start looking at people who were doing maintenance after the attack, find any weird cases. The police are gonna hand today's weapon over to us, we'll analyze it. Good?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed, endlessly impressed at Seokjin’s ability to connect the dots at lightning speed.
“Don’t worry your cute little head over this,” Seokjin ordered. “This is above your pay grade. Let the big boys handle it, alright?”
“But I-”
“Spider-Man, this isn’t your fight.”
Jungkook bit his cheek frustratedly. The Avengers handled the big things: that was their fight. But being concerned about the little guy was his fight. The people of New York depended on him, Spider-Man, their hero. And if he wasn’t allowed to let Spider-Man attack this problem, then he was useless to his city in the face of oncoming disaster.
Jungkook Jeon, high school student, ineloquent, quiet, and unheroic, couldn’t save anyone. Only Spider-Man could.
“Seokjin, I can handle this,” Jungkook pleaded.
“I don’t wanna hear it.” This time, alarmingly, a note of concern had slipped into Seokjin’s voice. “I’m in charge of you. And I want you safe. Go home and relax, play some videogames. Do not seek this out, Jungkook.”
He hung up with a click.
Jungkook slipped the mask over his chin again after a moment of frustrated thought.
Time to head home.
Once he’d swung up to his bedroom window and perched just outside, he took off his bloodied mask and peered inside cautiously. Aunt Sunmi would not appreciate it if she looked out a window only to find a bug-eyed masked man hanging upside-down in the darkness. Thankfully, she was nowhere to be seen.
Jungkook took a deep breath and slid the window down as silently as he could. He slipped inside, closing the window again with his heel, and crawled along the ceiling to the door. He could hear Aunt Sunmi bustling around in their kitchen, oblivious.
He cautiously closed the door with a slight bit of webbing, then dropped to the floor, breathing a soft sigh of relief.
Only to turn around and see Taehyung sitting on his bed, the half-complete frame of a Lego Millenium Falcon in his lap, his mouth practically on the floor, his eyes the size of two sand dollars.
The Millenium Falcon crashed to the floor.
Shit.
“What was that,” Sunmi yelped from the kitchen, at the same time that Taehyung shot to his feet and made a face like he was going to scream.
“Uh- nothing! Just! Dropped something!”
“You’re the Spider-Man. From Youtube. Holy fucking shit.”
Jungkook frantically slapped the spider logo on his chest. The suit decompressed and he tossed it aside like it was burning him. “No, no, no I’m not, this is just cosplaying, like that guy you follow on Tumblr. Why are you even here?”
“Dude! You have abs?" Taehyung was rapidly alternating between looking shocked, reverent, and elated. “Holy shit!”
“Shhh. Shhh!” Jungkook struggled to put on a shirt and then desperately motioned for Taehyung’s silence. His friend managed to clamp his mouth shut, which was impressive given that he was vibrating with excitement in a frankly concerning way.
Sunmi continued her activity in the kitchen, and Jungkook relaxed a tiny bit.
“So are you Spider-Man? You are, right? Fuck! Are you?”
“Maybe so,” Jungkook mumbled, dragging both his hands down his face. “God, I can’t believe this is happening right now.”
Taehyung laughed in that loud, open-mouthed way that he had, his boxy shaped grin growing more manic by the second. Jungkook shushed him again desperately. “What! Oh my god! I can’t believe you kept this from me! This is the single most coolest thing that’s ever happened in my life. My best friend is literally Spider-Man. Holy shit. I’ve officially peaked.”
“Taehyung. You have to keep this a secret.”
Taehyung spluttered indignantly. “A secret? I’ll level with you, Spider-Man. I don’t think I can.”
“Taehyung. I’m serious, please, please, you can’t tell anyone. If Sunmi finds out, I don’t know what I’ll- it’s just been so hard with her, with everything that’s happened this last year, and…”
His best friend instantly faltered when he took in Jungkook’s overwhelmed, teary, beat-up face. “Oh, hey. It’s okay. No worries. I got your back.”
“Thank you,” Jungkook mumbled. He shoved his suit into his closet, then sat down on the bed heavily. Taehyung followed suit, still twitching a little from pure excitement.
“Dude, your face is kinda bloody. And you have this huge ass bruise under your eye.”
“It’s from my, uh, activities.”
“That is so. Fucking. Cool!” Taehyung caught sight of Jungkook’s pained face and winced. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll get you some ice. Wait. So are you, like, half spider?”
“No.”
“Does your body make the webbing?”
“Ew, no.”
“Do you lay eggs?”
“Taehyung—”
Thankfully, Taehyung managed to keep his freak-out to a minimum the next day at school, limiting himself to sudden reverent glances at Jungkook's face or the occasional odd question (“Can you inject venom into people?”). It wasn’t until lunchtime that Jungkook started truly fearing for his identity.
He was digging into a suspicious burger when Taehyung nudged him hard with an elbow, then leaned his head in the direction of Jimin’s table.
The older boy was smiling down at something with his friends gathered behind him, his eyes curved into crescent moons, his entire face glowing. He was wearing a soft-looking yellow sweater and he kept giggling excitedly.
Jungkook swallowed hard. Why did Jimin have to make his life so difficult?
“Yeah, Spider-Man’s the best,” he heard Jimin say with the most adoring voice. “He’s definitely my favorite superhero.”
Taehyung nudged him again and Jungkook couldn’t help but break out into the widest smile. Superhero. Jimin liked him!
Well.
Jimin liked Spider-Man.
And most of the time, Jungkook Jeon, junior in high school who wore Iron Man socks, played too much Overwatch, and couldn’t form a complete sentence in front of most people, was not Spider-Man. He returned to his burger crestfallen, ignoring the quizzical look Taehyung gave him.
“Dude, what’s wrong? You heard him, he totally has a mega crush on you! You actually have a chance!”
“Tae, you know there’s no way I can tell him I’m Spider-Man,” Jungkook whispered.
“Aw, man.” Taehyung pouted for a few seconds. Then, his eyes got a certain unfortunate glint that signalled he was about to do something both of them would shortly regret.
Jungkook slapped a hand on his friend’s mouth, just in time for Taehyung to let out a muffled “Jungkook knows Spider— oomph!”
The last part was because Jungkook had elbowed him in the stomach before he could get anything else out. “No. We are not gonna do this,” Jungkook hissed. He glanced up.
Thankfully Jimin and his table hadn’t noticed, too wrapped up in whatever new "Avengers Meeting Fans ♡" compilation they were now watching. Taehyung groaned when he was released from Jungkook’s death grip, massaging his stomach. “Dude, I think I have internal bleeding.”
“Oops. Sorry,” Jungkook said guiltily. He’d momentarily forgotten about the super strength in the midst of panicking.
“Don’t apologize, that was so cool. I have a bruise from Spider-Man,” Taehyung whispered, awestruck, lifting his shirt up to examine the damage. “Wait, do you use insects to supplement your diet?”
“What-”
Decathlon practice that day was long and tedious, and Jimin kept shooting him weird glances that Jungkook couldn’t interpret. He was exhausted and strung out, and he knew he was phoning it in but couldn’t find the energy to really care.
When it finally ended, Jungkook was shoving things into his bag when a pair of boots came into view. Jungkook reluctantly straightened.
Jimin shifted a little, tilting his chin up to meet Jungkook’s eye. He gripped a strap on his backpack, white knuckled.
“I noticed your bruises.” His soft voice wavered as his eyes roved over the taller boy's face.
Jungkook's enhanced healing was already causing the bruising to fade, but the evidence of slamming your face into a wall takes a little bit of time to completely disappear. That morning, Jungkook had tried to use some of his aunt’s concealer to cover it up, but he clearly hadn’t done the best job of it.
“I hope you’re okay. I know you’re going through some things, and I know I've been giving you a hard time about showing up late and stuff-” Jimin swallowed, looking almost embarrassed at himself. “But I’m here for you. If you need to talk to someone about anything, or if you’re in trouble with someone…”
Jungkook's stomach rose in his throat as, without warning, his senses went into overdrive. Sometimes, after the bite, everything would become louder. Right now, he could smell Jimin's strawberry hair conditioner, could practically count Jimin's every eyelash, could even distantly hear his heart going thump, thump, thump.
In that moment, with the golden evening sun filtering into the empty classroom and Jimin’s worried, pretty eyes inches away and everything feeling like a little too much, Jungkook felt suddenly and alarmingly tempted to just...tell him.
Jungkook wanted to wield his identity as freely as Seokjin did. To have Jimin understand why he even bothered to put himself into danger every single night, if only to save a few insignificant people in a teeming, overpopulated city. But how could he reconcile that side of him with his other, much less heroic, completely ordinary self?
Would Jimin be disappointed that under the quips and leaps and acrobatics of his hero, there was... just Jungkook?
He took a shaky breath. Then another. “I’m fine, Jimin. Thanks.”
Jungkook turned and walked away, his head down.
He knew he was balancing himself between the two halves of his own identity, and it was an awfully narrow tightrope to walk.