Rooftop Conversations - {Peter Parker}

O N E

"You are fucking asshole—"

"—at least I'm not a raging—"

You shut the window sharply and it ceases the screaming match between your parents. Through the glass you can see them in the kitchen, both red faced and frantically waving their arms at each other. Before you see anything worse happen you step back and look out towards the city.

You're on the fourth-floor fire escape, and the metal grating beneath your socked feet is freezing. Before you know it, you're scaling the stairs, going up two more floors before ascending the ladder to the rooftop.

At the top of the building you look out on the Queens skyline; the reds, oranges, and pinks of the sunset warm your goosebump covered skin. A part of you wishes you grabbed a sweater or a blanket at the very least. You cross your arms and hold yourself as you sit on a nearby ventilation box.

It's nice to be away from the yelling and shouting, and the ambient city sounds help wash the remnants of it away. For a while you lose yourself in a space out, trying to keep calm despite the train wreck happening two floors down.

Then you hear a thump.

You flinch and whip your head to your right, fearing it's an injured bird or quite possibly a space object given past events. It turns out to be neither of them, but instead what Queens has dubbed the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

"You alright?" Spider-Man asks, his voice a little higher than you thought it'd be.

"Yes?" You respond, your hand moving to brush a strand of (Y/H/C) hair back behind your ear.

The masked hero somehow manages to look skeptical, "you don't sound so sure."

You frown and shrug, and it's not like you have anybody else to confide in, "family stuff, I needed to get out, so I just climbed up here."

You watch as Spider-Man walks over and takes a seat next to you on the metal ventilation box. Up close you can see the fine detailing in his suit and you notice how his eyes autofocus. It excites you a bit, to see the close-up mechanics.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says sympathetically.

"It is what it is," you shrug, "we just moved here. Dad's job moved us, and it's been a little stressful.... not that you care though, I mean you probably have someone to save or something."

The guy shakes his head, "I'll know if something serious is happening."

"How? Do you have a personal assistant or something?" You ask curiously and pull your legs up to your chest.

"An A.I. Her name is Karen, she's pretty nice actually," Spider-Man says, "she's part of the new suit."

"This is new? What did you use before?" You ask.

"A onesie, basically, but Mr. Stark helped me out a little with the tech," he answers excitedly.

Your eyes go wide at the mention of the Tony Stark, "well that's nice of him.... tell Karen I say hi."

The man freezes then, as if thinking something over before he sits up. You begin to think things got weird somewhere, and you feel your stomach turn to a mess of nervous knots. That is until he remains seated and turns to you. For some reason it feels completely serious.

"Would you...um...I mean you could say hi to her if you'd like," he offers.

"Wait—really?"

"You'll have to put on my mask which um...." he trails off.

You nod in understanding, "stand behind me, and I promise to face forward."

For some reason you find yourself holding your pinky out, and it feels incredibly childish. That is until his own pinky loops around yours and hold it tight. You smile and feel your cheeks heat up, because of course you find more ways to embarrass yourself. Your pinkies let go and you face forward, only catching him vaulting over the ventilation out of the corner of your eye.

You hear rustling and it makes you shiver with anticipation.

"Can I—?" He asks, voice a bit clearer without the mask on.

You force yourself to stay facing forward.

"Yeah, go ahead," you agree.

You feel his gloved hands move your hair and you help pull the mask on over your head. It's warm inside but not sweaty like it should be. Probably some impressive Stark perk or maybe a Spider-Man perk.

"Hi! Nice to meet you, I'm Karen."

"Whoa!" You flail when her voice sounds like surround sound speakers.

"I didn't mean to alarm you, it's just exciting to meet one of someone other than P—" Karen starts.

"Hey, no names. Just call him Spider-Man," you remind the A.I.

You hear a chuckle sound from behind you and a muffled thanks to follow. You can't help but smile; your curiosity burns bright to know who he really is, but you want to respect his privacy.

"So, what can you do Karen?" You ask.

Karen lists some protocols and procedures she can do, and you listen carefully. She sounds so real, it's kind of blowing your mind. You discover that despite being a computer, Karen as a great sense of humor.

"Thank you, Karen, but I think I should give you back now," you say, unable to keep the slight disappointment out of your voice.

"Alright, I hope to see you again..."

"(Y/N)," you tell her.

"(Y/N). Pretty name, it was nice to meet you."

"You too," you smile before slipping off the mask.

You wait until Spider-Man comes into view on his own terms, and once again he is masked. It feels different now, everything is newer, and a certain level of trust has been established. You have no idea what to do with that.

A new gust of wind passes, and you shiver.

"You should, uh, probably get inside," he says, clearly concerned, "it's a bit cold out."

You nod and smile at his stuttering kindness, "probably."

With that you head over to the ladder, but you don't move to go down just yet. Instead you turn around and see that Spider-Man had been watching you go.

"I'll see you again, right? And not just on the news?" You ask hopefully.

He steps over and gestures to the ladder, "I have a feeling we'll see each other again (Y/N)."

You feel yourself blush again at the way he says your name, with such finality. You nod with a small smile and start going down. Before you get too far you look back up to thank him, except he's no longer there. With a sigh you get to your fire escape and move to open the window on the now dark apartment, except for the TV that casts a cold glow .

Glancing back at the city you see just down the block a figure swinging building to building. You smile and hope he wasn't lying about meeting again soon.