Copycat: Agent Zero (Marvel Fem!OC)

Home.

Parker came back drying his hair with a towel and Pietro's shirt over his shoulder, she'd been too stressed to notice the first time he took off his clothes, but she was certainly staring now. 

He noticed, a smile forming on his lips. "What?"

"Did you get hot overnight, or do you work out to look like that?"

"I'm not sure of what you mean..." he answered with a chuckle.

"You got bitten by a spider?"

"Yeah?"

"You felt ill, and you fell asleep, and when you woke up you were super strong and super everything?"

He tilted his head, still smiling. "Same with your guy?"

"Did you wear glasses?"

"I preferred contacts..."

"Peter couldn't afford those, so he stuck to the classics," she smiled. "Were you tiny and clumsy?"

He bit his lip trying to remember. God, he was cute. "No, I was pretty average. I'd always been kinda tall and I used to skate a lot. I still do sometimes."

"You skate!" Cat said delightedly. "That's way too cool for a Peter..."

"Thanks?"

"Do you sometimes record your missions? Peter likes to do that... or used to. I don't really know what he likes now..."

All the things Peter liked when they were dating could no longer be his thing, surely he had new interests now. Parker approached, sitting next to her. 

"I'm a freelance photographer," he said. "I had to quit school because, er... well, money was a bit tight, and I sell pictures of Spider-man to the Daily bugle—"

"We have a Daily bugle!"

"Yeah, I know," he grinned. "You won't believe it, but your J.J. Jameson looks exactly like mine."

"What?" She laughed. "But wait, you sell pictures of Spider-man? You stand there in your bathroom and take a bunch of selfies?"

He chortled. "No, I gotta be smarter than that! I set the timer so it looks like the pictures are taken as I pass by."

"Smart," she admitted. "You make your own webs too?"

"Yup."

Cat handed him the plate of waffles and went to check her phone, which was charging in the kitchen. "I'm glad my brother's clothes worked for you... I was starting to feel guilty about keeping them."

"My aunt May has my uncle's from when they got married— and his favorite shirt," he shrugged. "If they mean something, I don't see the problem with keeping 'em. I should be the one who's sorry, I didn't know these were your brother's..."

"No it's fine, it's... How do you know my brother died?"

"I never said that."

"You compared me to your aunt May, and I know your uncle's dead 'cause of course he is, so—"

"I know your brother's dead but that's 'cause I can put two and two together," he said, brushing it aside. "Why else would you have his clothes?"

"He could be on a trip?"

"Is he?"

"What if I say he is?"

"I'd say you're full of shit," he replied with a smirk.

No one among her friends had treated this subject in such a lighthearted way. It intrigued her, but at the same time, he wouldn't judge her if she said what she really wanted to say.