You really had no idea how Spider-Man did it. How could he walk around in his civilian life, bursting at the seams with the secret of his powers, and not tell anybody? How could he stay up half the night roaming the streets of Queens and keeping them safe? How did he balance his hero responsibilities with those of a typical teenager? You were sure that, if the radioactive spider had bitten you, you would not have been able to handle it like Spider-Man did.
You felt the change immediately when you woke up the morning after your night with Spider-Man. After crossing all those lines that the two of you had so carefully left uncrossed for months, you had stayed up almost all night, just talking (and also kissing a little bit? But really, could anyone blame you? He was a super hero). Once Spider-Man had left around four am, you had had less than two hours of sleep once your alarm rang at six. And by the time you made it to school, you had felt like death warmed over. That day had been a groggy fog of trying to stay awake and coherent until school was over, and you were tucked away in your cozy bed.
And the thing was, the tiredness was the least of your worries. You had kissed Spider-Man. You had kissed Spider-Man. Not only that, but Spider-Man had kissed you back. And not only that, but Spider-Man was your boyfriend. As in, someone that you could keep kissing, whenever you wanted to-as long as whenever was between the hours of midnight and three am. All the secret meetings were exciting, sure, but bottling it up was starting to get to you. Your friends had begun to notice that something was up with you, and they were beginning to ask questions.
"Seriously, Y/N, what is going on with you lately?" Alex had questioned in chemistry a few weeks into the affair. "Is something bothering you?"
"Hm?" You raised your head from your table, blinking groggily at your friend. "What was that?"
"Wake up!" Alex was twisted around uncomfortably in her chair, yet still managed to aim a kick at your leg under your table. "Are you sleeping okay?"
"I'm sleeping fine," You yawned, stretching a hand into the air. "I've just been busy with school and stuff, and it's tiring me out."
"Oh, come on," Alex rolled her eyes. "Are you really blaming this on academic decathlon? Peter's in it too, and even with his Stark internship as well, he's not as tired as you." Alex glanced at the door. "Speak of the devil-"
Peter had walked over to your table, taking his seat down next to you. "Pardon?"
"Peter, you're a busy guy, right?" Alex raised an eyebrow.
"I, uh, I guess so, yeah," Peter shrugged, laying al his books on the table and pulling out his chemistry notes.
"Yet even you're more awake than Y/N," Alex pointed to you. "Which leads me to believe that Y/N must have something else filling up her time, besides what she says. What do you think, Peter?"
Peter glanced at you, blushed, and then moved his gaze back down to his notes. "I, um, I wouldn't know, really. Who-I mean what! What Y/N does at night is-is completely her business."
"Thank you, Peter," You had nodded towards the boy then looked back at your friend. "Why can't you be as nice as him?"
"Character flaw, I guess?" Alex had shrugged and turned back around to face the front as your teacher called the class to order.
You knew that there was no chance of being able to tell Alex the reason you were so tired. You knew that you couldn't tell anyone. And you didn't want to tell anyone. Or at least...you didn't want to tell just anyone.
The longer your affair with Spider-Man went on, the more you longed to know who he was. It wasn't because the curiosity was too much to bear, and it wasn't because you felt like it was some fun trivia fact that you took lightly. You worried about him; there were nights where he showed up on your fire escape with a pained smile, injuries that you couldn't treat with a basic first aid kit, and a refusal to let you do anything more than give him some ice and a painkiller. There were nights where he would begin to tell you a story, only to cut off half way through to avoid revealing too much information about his everyday life to you. There were nights where you would fall asleep on the fire escape, head tucked into the costume clad chest of the boy you thought you might even be falling in love with, only to wake up in your bed, alone, with a note tucked next to your head saying the simple word of "goodbye".
The fact of the matter was that you couldn't go on forever like this. As September passed to October, and the nights got colder, you knew that you wouldn't be able to keep spending all night on the fire escape. What would happen then? Would Spider-Man come inside for a cup of tea? The idea of the masked hero sitting on your bed as you read a book was hard to picture. There was a distance between you to, a distance that kept you from feeling everything you wanted yourself to feel. Partially, it was physical; you wanted to hold his hand, his actual hand, not just the glove, and feel the softness of his skin, the calloused fingertips (he mentioned he worked with robotics), and see the veins of his hands and arms where blood moved just below the surface of his skin, a reminder that he was real, that he was alive. But what you wanted yourself to feel, more than anything, was love.
You knew that you cared deeply for Spider-Man. You felt the sadness every night when he left, the coldness when you woke up alone, the wanting to know how his day went that made you ache in the middle of the night. You could tell that the boy underneath the suit was someone you could love, someone that could love you back in return, someone who could make you feel like falling into them wasn't so terrifying. But you couldn't feel that way about Spider-Man himself. The distance of not knowing who he was prevented everything you wanted.
Sometimes, when you were lying in bed after Spider-Man left, wrapping yourself up in blankets to make up for the chilled feeling that lingered long after he was gone, you wondered if this was healthy. If losing sleep to see the hero was what was best for you. You couldn't deny that it made you happy, but was it the only thing that could make you happy? Surely, there were other people in the world that could hold you in their arms like Spider-Man did, talk to you like he did, kiss you like he did, and not have to leave before the sun rose without knowing where he was going to? Or, better yet, actually being able to do these things during the day, when being with each other wasn't a danger to your safety, a secret to be known by you two and the moon. And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you knew that there was someone who could do that.
After the day when he gave you his hoodie, you and Peter had grown closer. He still walked you home after academic decathlon and AP chemistry, but he also walked you home on days when you had neither. You had study sessions together in the library, and before big tests you would have snack breaks in the quad while you held up flash cards for one another. Peter never pressured you to talk about the bank heist with Spider-Man after the stormy day-in fact, he never brought up Spider-Man at all. You appreciated this fact, as people were still harassing you for information on the masked hero months after you had last seen him (at least, months after they knew you had last seen him). With Peter, you didn't have to worry about him getting injured and not letting you help him. You didn't have to worry about not being able to be seen together for your safety. You didn't feel abandoned every night when he dropped you off at your apartment building. Instead, you just felt normal. And normal was something you hadn't truly felt in a long time.
It was the middle of October when the comforting feeling of friendship that Peter gave you began to change into something else. Looking back, it had always been evolving, from the day he had given you his hoodie to keep you warm, but this was the day when you first noticed it. In almost every way, it was a normal day. You walked into AP physics after lunch, with Peter by your side, laughing at some joke that he had made about the book you were reading in English class. When you reached your joint table, he pulled your chair out for you before pulling out his own and taking a seat. You noticed the action with curiosity, as did Alex, who had been watching you two walk in with something gleaming in her eyes. Knowing Alex, whatever it was couldn't be good.
"Y/N, Peter, I didn't see you two at lunch," She began, glancing between the both of you.
"Oh, Peter was just showing me his latest creation with the robotics club," You smiled at Peter, whose cheeks reddened slightly. "It's really cool, Alex, you should come see it sometime!"
"I'm sure it is. Hey, Peter," Alex directed her words at the boy next to you. "How's the Stark internship?"
"It's-it's good, yeah, thanks for asking," Peter stumbled out quickly.
"Oh, okay, I was just wondering because it keeps you so busy all the time," Alex's smile grew. "But, lately, you and Y/N have been hanging out more and more!"
"Alex-" You began, but Peter cut you off.
"Well, Mr. Stark said it was important that I don't lose out on, um, on being a teenager," Peter shrugged. "Like, having friends, joining clubs, all that kind of stuff. And Y/N, um, is-is a very good friend to-to have."
You smiled at Peter as the teacher entered the classroom, sufficiently silencing all the chatter around you.
After school, Peter met you at your locker, his hands on his backpack straps as he smiled at you.
"Ready to go?" He asked breathlessly, as if he'd been running recently.
"Yeah, are you okay?" You furrowed your brow as you shut your locker. "You seem a little out of breath."
"Hm?" Peter's eyebrows raised. "Yeah, no, no, I'm-I'm fine! I just had some, uh, something I had to do, for the Stark internship, that's all!"
"Oh." You and Peter began walking through the halls, exiting Midtown and making your way to the subway station. You were halfway there before you spoke again.
"How come you never talk to me about the Stark internship?" You asked, your gaze pasted firmly on the ground.
You could practically hear Peter's predictable shrug. "Um, I, uh, I don't know. It's kind of..."
"Classified?" You gave a wry grin as you glanced back up at your friend.
Peter shook his head. "No, it's not that. Well, I guess it kind of is, but mostly, I don't know..."
"What?" You asked as Peter trailed off.
"It's just..." It was Peter's turn to look at the ground. "I know everyone bugs you all the time about Spider-Man, and how much it annoys you-"
"I never said it annoyed me."
"You didn't have to, Y/N," Peter glanced sideways at you. "And, I don't know, I guess I just didn't want to seem like-like I was bragging, or something. Or, like, just trying to-to make up some random connection between us. I'm not-I don't want to trick or-or bribe you into being my friend."
"Peter," You reached down and grabbed his hand from where it swung between you, trying not to stare as a pretty blush spread over his face (you elected to ignore the sudden use of "pretty" to describe Peter Parker-no matter how well the adjective fit). "I like knowing what's going on with you. Telling me about your life isn't tricking me into being your friend."
"I-good to know," Peter said weakly, his gaze flickering back and forth between the pavement and your entwined hands.
Your hands stayed together throughout the entire subway ride and the walk home. When Peter dropped you off at your door (which he had been doing for the past few weeks, instead of parting ways at your individual streets), he was reluctant to let go of your hand. You stood in front of your door, and, as his thumb rubbed the back of your hand, you realized that you didn't want him to let go of it, either. Unsure of what to say, you just looked at Peter, who stared back at you with a kind of nervousness you had never seen in him before.
"I should go," You said after a moment, slowly retracting your hand from Peter's. He nodded, pursing his lips as you waved goodbye and stepped through your door, closing it behind you.
That night, when Spider-Man showed up, you were prepared to ask him about his identity. You weren't sure what had happened between you and Peter earlier in the day, but you felt like it had changed something. Everything that bothered you about your relationship with Spider-Man was amazing in your friendship with Peter. You were completely honest and open, and you didn't have to feel like a secret with him; you wanted that same feeling with Spider-Man.
"Hi," The masked hero said as he straightened up after swinging onto your fire escape. He walked over to you and pulled his mask up slightly, kissing you quickly. "How was your day?"
"It was..." You sighed. "It was fine."
Spider-Man frowned. "It doesn't sound fine. What's wrong, Y/N?"
"I..." You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead of you. "I think I-Spidey, I need to know who you are."
Spider-Man's face went slack and he took a step back from you. "Why...why do you need that?"
"Because I don't know-" You bit your lip. "I honestly have no idea how much longer we're going to be able to keep this up. This-whatever this is between us? You and I both know that it won't last forever."
Spider-Man breathed out slowly, his breath visible in the air. He turned around, walking away for a moment, then turned back to you. "You know why I can't tell you, Y/N. I can't-remember the bank? We both know that would have been worse if people knew that I-how I feel about you."
"I do remember the bank, and I remember that people not knowing about us still didn't keep me from almost watching my friend get executed, nor did it keep me from being next." You crossed your arms. "And I'm not asking for people to know about us. The only reason there is an us, the only reason there's an affair between me and Spider-Man, is because I don't know the identity of the person underneath the mask. If I knew him, then we wouldn't have to keep having midnight rendezvous. If I knew the person underneath the mask, we could be like a normal couple."
"The person underneath the mask is a lot different than the person I am when I'm with you!" Spider-Man's cheeks (or what you could see of them) were flushed.
"That's bullshit, and you know it!" You laughed incredulously. "Are you saying that-that for the past six months, you've been pretending to be someone else?"
"No, Y/N, but-" Spider-Man placed his hands on the back of his neck and looked up at the stars. "Why are you saying this now? Is this not enough for you? Am I-am I not enough for you?"
You swallowed hard, tears beginning to come to your eyes as you realized you knew the answers to all his questions.
Spider-Man's gaze levelled back with your face, and he stepped towards you, placing one hand on your waist as the other hand came to rest on your cheek
"Am I not enough for you?" He asked again, softer this time. His voice was almost a whisper through the mask, and you could hear the shakiness of it as he spoke.
You pressed your cheek into his hand. Part of you wished you could keep the feeling of his touch on your skin forever, but a bigger part of you wished that it was his bare skin, instead of a glove.
"No," You swallowed the lump in your throat again as the tears began to fall over the brim of your eyes. "You're not."
Spider-Man pressed his forehead against yours, breathing deeply. "Why not, Y/N? I...I love you. I thought that...maybe you loved me too. Do you...do you not love me?"
"I don't," You whispered back. You felt Spider-Man's grip on your waist tighten. "I can't, Spidey, I-I want to love you so much. I do. But I can't, not when I don't know all of you."
You closed your eyes as Spider-Man's grip on your waist loosened. You felt his other hand come to your cheek.
"I-" His voice wavered and he swallowed hard. "Everything I did, I did to keep you safe. I'm sorry that...that not letting you fall in love with me was one of those things."
You felt his lips press to your forehead, and when you opened your eyes, Spider-Man was gone.
