Peter Parker walked down the street, earbuds in, lost in the music. Being Spider-Man had its perks, but the weight of the secret, the need to protect May, often overshadowed the thrill of heroism. He longed to be known, but not at the cost of her safety.
Lost in the rhythm, he didn’t notice the chaos building behind him until a prickling sensation on his scalp jolted him awake. He ripped out his earbuds and spun around.
A car, swerving wildly, barreled towards pedestrians and oncoming vehicles. Instinct took over. He reached for his backpack, pulling the red mask over his face. The fabric itched, the eye holes constricting his vision, but he barely registered the discomfort.
He launched himself into action, swinging towards the careening car. Landing ahead of it, he fired webs, anchoring them to buildings and lampposts, slowing the vehicle’s momentum. He then swung *into* the car.
“Hey, where’d you learn to drive?” he asked, grabbing the wheel and forcing his foot onto the brake. The car screeched to a halt, and the driver leaped out, furious. “Stop moving so much!”
“Get away from me, you bug!” the man yelled. Peter opened his mouth to retort when, with a deafening crash, a metal figure descended from above.
“He’s an arachnid, technically speaking,” Iron Man said, removing his mask as Peter quickly cocooned the driver in a thick layer of webbing. “Nice Underoos.”
“Oh my god!” Peter stared, wide-eyed. “Mr. Tony Stark-Iron Man, sir! I’m a huge fan! I love your suit!” He walked forward, tentatively touching the gleaming metal. Tony waved him off.
“Made for looking, not touching,” he said, eyeing Spider-Man with a curious intensity. “You seem…small.”
“What?” Peter blinked, confused. He lowered his voice. “I’m twenty-five.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Look, kid,” Tony stepped out of the suit, the metal retracting with a hiss.
“Iron Man, sir,” Peter began protesting, but Tony rolled his eyes, slipping on a pair of sunglasses.
“Tony,” Stark corrected.
“Mr. Stark, I’m not a kid. And I gotta go.” Peter sighed, adjusting his mask.
“Don’t call me that. I sound old. I *am* youthful and vibrant.” Peter nodded, eager to escape the awkwardness.
“Yes, definitely Mr. Stark, now I gotta go! Dinner’s waiting!” He swung between buildings, leaving Tony standing alone in the street.
“Jarvis, who *was* that kid?”