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chapter five
BIRTHDAY BLUES
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STAYING HOLED UP in Happy's apartment is far from ideal, but surprisingly, the days pass by quicker than Lena had anticipated they would. July 27th looms around the corner before she knows it. That's Graham's birthday, and she's more anxious than usual because she wants to make it his best one yet— which will be next to impossible considering the circumstances.

It's strange to think that Graham will be older than her. She was supposed to turn 18 back in April, but Bruce had done the reverse-snap at the beginning of May, therefore skipping right over her birthday. It also means that Peter will soon be the same age as her once he turns 17 in August. Thanos's snap had altered their lives in more ways than she could have anticipated upon her return, and each month seems to bring a new, unforeseen struggle.

Another reason Lena wants this to be perfect is because Graham and his parents have been apprehensive about him becoming a legal adult. The protective laws that surround minors will no longer apply to him, and in a time like this, when most of the public is against them, they need every bit of cushioning that they can get to soften the blows.

That isn't to say that people haven't tried to help. They've gotten public support from the remaining Avengers — aside from Wanda, who has been MIA — and also random others who don't believe Beck's accusations. The most heartwarming had been from Paul Weber, the man who had taken Lena in when she'd been trapped in Germany after Mysterio's illusion attack. Even his friend Lukas had voiced support for her despite the fact he hadn't been fond of her when they'd met.

"Oh — sorry," Lena says when she accidentally bumps into Mrs. Seager, who is meticulously hanging streamers along the walls of Happy's living room. "Owen, where did you put the... the... oh, crap. Um—" She makes cutting motions with her fingers as she looks around. "Gunting."

"Scissors!" Ma supplies.

Lena sighs, nodding appreciatively. When she's frazzled, sometimes her brain will only recall random words in one language. It's fine when it's around her parents, but confusing for everyone else who doesn't speak Tagalog.

"They're on the coffee table," Owen calls back from the other room.

She glances at the cluttered surface. Several rolls of streamers litter the dark wood, along with bags of confetti and miscellaneous supplies— glue sticks, tape, wrappers, and more things that make Lena go cross-eyed if she tries to pick out each individual item. But there aren't any scissors.

She yells back, "I don't see them!"

"They're up my butt," Max jokes with a cackle.

"Well, can you pull 'em out for a second? We really need them."

Lena's phone buzzes from her pocket right after she finishes that sentence.

HAPPY: Leaving now. ETA 15 minutes.

"Shit," she curses under her breath, quickly typing a reply so Happy knows she isn't dead— once she'd left him on read and he'd hunted her down to make sure she was still alive. "Guys, Peter and Graham will be back in 15 minutes."

"Oh, and these streamers still look awful." Mrs. Seager examines her work with a frown.

"You're too hard on yourself, Rachel," her husband says, approaching her and rubbing a comforting hand on her back. "They look great."

In order to make sure Graham was out of the apartment, Peter had suggested they go to a local entertainment store for "guy time" and to geek out about video games together. Graham is under the impression that Peter is trying to figure out what to get him for his birthday, which is actually tomorrow. He has no idea about the surprise waiting for him when he returns.

Happy will probably hate all of the decorations, but Lena thinks the apartment looks great for the short amount of time they had to plan. Two of the walls in the living room are covered in blue and green streamers that hang from the ceiling and trail all the way to the floor in colorful stripes. Balloons float along the ceiling, are taped to the refrigerator, and stay tied to the backs of chairs. Ma and Pa (with help from Lena) had offered to cook dinner and bake a cake. The scent of coconut fills the air from the bibingka that Ma had also made.

All of the attendees had chosen bright outfits for the occasion. Lena wears a button-down top with vertical red, yellow, blue, and white stripes tucked into a pair of denim shorts with stars and planets embroidered onto them. The twins had bought the brightest t-shirts that the dollar store could offer and look like an eyesore. Even Pa had busted out his bright green button-down with pink flowers, which Lena hasn't seen him wear since she was a kid.

The last few minutes before the boys' return are filled with each of them scrambling to tidy up. Lena chucks plastic into the trash faster than she's ever cleaned in her life, nearly bumping into the twins as they scramble to write messages on crumpled pieces of paper with random markers they'd found. Eventually, Lena resorts to surrounding a stray bit of unused party supplies with a bubble of energy and shoving it toward the office room at the end of the hallway. Just as she shuts that door, Happy fiddles with the doorknob as a signal that they've arrived.

All of them gather near the doorway. Happy's muffled voice comes from the corridor, probably lying that the door gets stuck sometimes, but then it creaks open.

"Why is it so quiet in he—"

Before Graham can finish his question, each of them jumps up and shouts, "SURPRISE!"

He jolts back in shock from the noise and the handful of confetti that Lena tosses in his face. As his eyes whirl around their smiling faces and he begins to absorb what's happening, a grin of his own starts to work its way across his face. Then his brows furrow as he starts to read the sign that Max holds.

"'Happy day short of which you were expelled from our mother's va—'"

"Maxwell!" Mrs. Seager cries in outrage, her face flushing pink.

"That's not even correct," Owen informs his twin. His own sign reads, 'Congratulations on legal adulthood (you're old enough to drink in the UK! Too bad we live in NY) :)' but from how big he'd started to write 'Congratulations,' most of the letters end up being squished at the edge of the paper. "He was a c-section baby like we were."

"Oh." Max turns his sign around and starts crossing off words, quickly scribbling others so his message now says, 'Happy day short of which you were forcibly cut from our mother's womb!'

"Well, this is one interesting birthday surprise," Peter says. He's holding up his phone to record the whole spectacle, zooming in on the twins' signs, which they pose with, offering huge smiles up to the camera like young children displaying their artwork.

"I hope someone's going to pick up all that confetti," Happy says, "because it sure won't be me."

"Oh, don't worry about cleaning up already!" May exclaims. "It's Graham's birthday— let's have some fun!"

The next several hours are filled with music, delicious food, laughter, and obnoxious song and dance. The Santos/Rivera family had gifted Graham a karaoke machine along with a handmade card from Lena. Happy looks pained as Graham enthuses about them trying it out later, reminding him not to be too loud so they don't disturb the neighbors. Peter gives him a new video game. Graham cries, "So that's why you didn't want me to buy it earlier!" and gives Peter an affectionate ruffle of his curls.

The twins give him custom posters of his favorite musical artists. They promise that they'd ordered them long before they all had to move in with Happy, so of course they don't expect him to let them hang the posters up. His parents present him with a new acoustic guitar, a songbook, noise-canceling headphones, and a box of his favorite sweets.

"MJ, Ned, and Cindy have gifts for you, too," Lena tells him. "Happy didn't want to give them his address, so they'll bring them to you some other time."

Graham's smile takes up his whole face, displaying his perfect teeth and bringing identical grins to everyone's faces as well. "Thank you, guys. I — I mean, this really means a lot to me."

After many hugs and stuffing their faces with cake and bibingka, Max screeches, "KARAOKEEEE!" while playing air horn sound effects on his phone. Happy mumbles something about a migraine. He rubs his forehead in disdain, stabbing his fork through another piece of cake.

They set the machine up and coax Graham into being the first to test it out with a song. He chooses "Hey Ya!" by Outkast, which is impressive due to the fact he has to sing two people's parts. Of course, he does it with ease, and it has Lena and May grabbing each other's hands and doing a ridiculous hop/twist/flail that Peter photographs while laughing the whole time. During the "Shake it like a Polaroid picture," lyrics, Owen reveals his hidden talent of twerking.

Lena is exhausted by the end of the nearly four-minute-long song, but she wants to go next. Her selection is Abba's "Mamma Mia!" which she butchers, but belts without shame anyway. She's so breathless when she finishes that Ma forces her to sit down and drink a glass of water while Max and Owen duet Run-D.M.C's "It's Tricky".

Peter is too shy to sing by himself in front of everyone, but Lena finally gets him to perform "You're The One That I Want" from Grease with her. Seeing him gradually break out of his shell during the song makes butterflies erupt in her stomach. She loves that smile— the one that puts sparkles in his eyes and makes him barely able to speak through his grin.

When they're done, Graham demands that Peter sings with him, too ("It's my birthday, you can't say no") and they burst into "The Boys Are Back" from High School Musical 3. Honestly, Peter gives Zac Efron some serious competition, especially when he does a side aerial just because he can. But then he almost knocks a plant over and Happy asks them to keep the dance moves on the ground.

Even their parents and guardians join in with the fun that karaoke brings. For once, the atmosphere surrounding them is so positive that they're able to forget about Mysterio and the public's opinion. Inside Happy's apartment, all that matters is who's getting the next slice of cake and if Max is allowed to slam Graham's face into the frosting. Lena's cheeks and stomach hurt from all the smiling and laughing she's done.

"This was the best birthday ever," Graham tells them after they've all collapsed in the living room from exhaustion. "I love you guys."

"We love you too," Ma says, affectionately running her hand along his short-cropped hair. "Mahal kita. I'm so glad you had fun."

Even though the apartment is still too small for all of them to sleep comfortably, Lena feels the most at peace she has in a long while.

-♕-

The second week of August brings no sign of the approaching autumn season. The sun still scorches New York from clear skies overhead, turning the sidewalks burning-hot and the air sweltering. Each gust of wind from the passing traffic is a blessing.

Planning Graham's surprise party had been difficult, but making Peter's birthday gift is even harder. Unable to create it while they're living under the same roof, Lena resorts to spending time at Cindy's place so he can't see what she's doing.

Cindy is an absolute blessing from above. She'd helped Lena print out photos at the nearby CVS and supplied her with crafting materials. Additionally, she allows Lena to use most of the floor space in her bedroom at her dad's apartment, remaining perched on her bed while her carpet is littered with photos, scissors, markers, glue sticks, and other miscellaneous items. The poster board takes up the most space. Lena has been slowly rotating around it for hours, her focus fixated on finishing the project before Happy arrives to escort her back to his apartment.

She's been working on the project in Cindy's room for a week, but it had taken longer to plan. Lena hadn't wanted to merely purchase something for Peter's birthday (though she had gotten him a Lego set she knew he'd been eyeing). She always likes to put a personal touch on the things she gets her loved ones — which is why it had taken her several hours to complete the elaborate card she'd made for Graham — so she'd meticulously plotted how to do so for her first boyfriend.

By now, they've been official for almost two months. It's been difficult for them to do anything couple-related while squished in the apartment and with rare trips outdoors. Lena wants to make her appreciation for him clear.

"I think I'm done," she announces with a sigh, sitting back on her heels to examine her work. Her knees have imprints from Cindy's carpet — a product of her wearing shorts and kneeling for so long — and they burn when she shifts.

Cindy climbs off of her bed and walks to where Lena is. She gasps and breaks out into an ecstatic grin, releasing a little squeal as her eyes roam over her work. "It turned out so well! You did an amazing job. Oh my God, this is so cute. You guys are so cute. I'm going to throw up. He's gonna love it."

Lena's shoulders slump with relief that her project has passed the Cindy Test. "Well, if you're gonna vomit, do it over there. I don't have time to start from scratch since the 10th is tomorrow."

She'd put her art skills to the test by painting a cartoon-like recreation of a photo they'd taken together. Peter has a shy grin on his face while she has her lips pressed to his cheek, one of her eyes squeezed shut while the other looks up into the camera. Even though she isn't as good of an artist as Cindy or MJ, she'd done an incredible job (not to pat her own back, or anything). A collage of their memories surrounds the painting. Lena had pulled together almost every moment they have documented together, from Polaroids of their first date in Central Park to a copy of the first-place certificate they'd gotten from a robotics competition. Even her ticket from the Museo de Correr is there.

As she'd searched for items to include in the collage, she'd realized how much time they'd spent together before meeting as their alter egos. Peter had joined their matching clubs as soon as he'd begun his first year at Midtown. The result is a few awkward photos of them building robots together as acquaintances, or dressed in their yellow Decathlon blazers in the autumn prior to them joining forces as Spider-Man and Havoc. It's funny looking back on those pictures. The two kids captured in time had no idea that the person next to them would become so vital to their happiness.

"I'm gonna cry," Cindy says. "My gift is so lame compared to this."

"No, it's not," Lena assures her with a playful swat on her shoulder as she stands up. "He'll love the Star Wars mug. And besides, it would be kinda weird if you made a painting of you kissing his cheek."

"That's true. Oh, God. I need to take a step back before my tears drip onto the photos."

The next day is as joyous as Graham's birthday had been. Peter wakes up to a hearty breakfast from Ma and Pa and his gifts on the kitchen counter. He looks adorable in his Star Wars pajamas and messy, sleep-mussed curls as he opens each present with a sleepy grin. He gets more graphic t-shirts with science puns on them, Star Wars memorabilia, and new headphones since his last pair had broken. The worst gift is the fake spider that the twins had gotten him, but they quickly reveal that they'd actually bought a screen protector for his phone since he keeps shattering it.

"I have something else for you," Lena says with an uncharacteristically nervous edge to her voice.

"What?" Peter asks. "You didn't have to do that. You already got me the Legos. I—"

"Peter, shut up and let her show you," Graham interrupts.

She's practically buzzing with excitement as she brings the poster out. Her eyes carefully examine his face as he takes in the painting and collage, his jaw dropping and expression slowly lighting up like the sky when the sun peeks out after a rainstorm. His cheeks flush with gratitude.

"Holy..." He trails off, trailing a finger over the Museo de Correr ticket. "How long did this take you?"

"A while," Lena replies vaguely.

"It's incredible. Lee, you're the best. Thank you so much!"

He grabs her wrist and pulls her into a tight embrace. She hugs him back with fervor, so glad that her idea had turned out exactly how she'd wanted it to. That sparkle had returned to his eyes. She'd do anything to keep it there.

That isn't the end of Lena's plans for Peter's birthday, however. She'd booked them reservations at Kalimeris Kuts, the Greek restaurant they'd ordered carryout from on their first date, and tells him to be ready by 5:30 so they can get there in time for their six o'clock reservations. The restaurant had been closer to their apartments, but now that they're staying with Happy, it's going to take them a little longer to get there.

This is their first traditional date. Lena wants to look a little nicer than she had for their picnic in Central Park, so she wears a yellow sundress with tiny white flowers printed on it along with a pair of sandals. Her bangs have started to grow out. Since they're at an awkward length, she decides to sweep them away from her face and pin them above her temples.

"You look really pretty," Peter tells her when they walk out the door and have their first moment alone in weeks. He's dressed in a blue button-down and dark jeans, his curls as fluffy as Lena likes them.

"Thank you." She smiles and laces their fingers together. "You do, too."

The walk to the restaurant is surprisingly peaceful. At this time of day, when the afternoon is about to tip into night, the streets are bustling with people returning from work. It makes it easier for them to blend in with the crowd. Almost nobody gives them a second look. Lena is grateful that New Yorkers are so used to minding their own business. They've become two more indistinct faces in a busy hoard, slipping through the streets of Queens unnoticed for the first time since Beck's broadcast.

They arrive at Kalimeris Kuts with their spirits high and hopeful. At the host stand is a boy who's around their age, his brunet hair slightly falling into his face as he organizes stacks of menus. At the sound of the door opening, he looks up and gives them a polite smile. "Hi, welcome to Kalimeris Kuts. How can I help you?"

"Hi. We have reservations for Lena at six?"

The guy scans a list for a moment before saying, "Yep, I see ya. Cool. Your table's ready, so you can follow me."

The Greek restaurant is fairly packed, so Lena is glad that she'd decided to call ahead of time to book their spots. Customers provide a low hum of indistinct chatter above the music that plays softly from overhead speakers. The sky-blue walls make the place seem brighter even as the sun begins its descent through the massive windows, accented with stone on the bottom half of the walls and around the window panes. String lights hang from the ceiling along with plants whose vibrant leaves tumble over their pots.

Lena is so busy admiring the decor that she almost misses the fact that Peter had pulled her chair out for her. She thanks him with a smile, sliding into the cushioned wooden seat.

"My name's Kyril, and your server will be with you in just a moment," the guy says. "Can I get you anything to drink in the meantime?"

After placing their beverage orders, the two of them start to look over the menus. Lena's stomach rumbles at the memory of how delicious the food is here.

"Order whatever you want," she says. "I'm paying."

"Huh?" Peter asks, his eyes darting up from the menu in bewilderment. "No, Lee, you already got me gifts."

"And I also want to pay for your dinner."

"Le — na," Peter exaggerates the two syllables of her name like a child.

"Pe — ter," she teases in the same tone. "Besides, Owen stole your wallet while you were in the shower this morning and replaced all of your money with Pokémon cards, so you actually can't fight me on this."

"What?" He takes his wallet out of his pocket and fumbles around until it opens, peeling back the single dollar bill that had hidden the cards. He takes one out and examines it with a frown. "...You don't think they'll accept Chimchar?"

"Sorry, Pete, I don't think so."

Peter flips through the cards Owen had snuck inside, his brows furrowed, and mumbles something about how he didn't even get a single decent one.

"Hey, sorry about that wait," a new voice says, drawing their attention away from the Pokémon. "I'm Salene, and I'll be your server for today— oh, hang on, I know you!"

Lena looks up at the familiar girl with her curly blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her blue eyes flicker between the two of them, but mostly stay locked on Lena, a smile brightening up her pale face.

"You've been here before, right?" she asks.

Lena almost sighs in relief that she hadn't mentioned the whole superhero thing. Instead, she gives her a grin of her own. "Yeah, back in June."

"Well, welcome back, and we're glad to have you here again. I know Kyril already took your drink order, and they should be coming soon. In the meantime, do you have any questions about the menu?"

They don't, and they end up being ready to order their entrees. Both Lena and Peter request the same meals they'd gotten before their previous date. After Salene heads toward the kitchen and Kyril sets down their drinks, Lena's mouth is practically watering at the promise of delicious food.

"So, have you decided if you're gonna apply to college this year or not?" Lena asks as she tears off a piece of bread and dips it into the seasoned oil set between them.

Because the snap had messed up everyone's education plans — as evident by the fact that, instead of heading off to university this fall, Lena and Graham have to repeat their senior year of high school — most colleges are allowing third-year high school students who'd been victims of the "blip" to apply for the 2024 fall semester. It would mean that Peter would skip his fourth year if he got accepted and graduate in the spring with Lena.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna do it," he replies, copying her action of eating the warm bread. "I don't want to be stuck at Midtown while you guys are gone."

"You won't be alone— you'll have Ned, MJ, and Abe." She grins evilly. "And Flash."

Peter buries his face in his hands for a moment. "Ugh, yeah, don't leave me with him."

"You're still set on MIT, right?"

"Yeah. And you're hoping for Cornell, right?"

"Yeah."

A slightly heavy silence follows. Lena and Graham had always planned on attending separate schools to further their education, and they'll both remain in New York, so they've been prepared for time apart with visits whenever possible. But MIT is five and a half hours away from Cornell in Cambridge, Massachusetts. And she hadn't been preparing to be so far from Peter. After all they've been through together, the thought of him being in another state for school makes a rock-like weight wedge itself between her ribs.

"We'll visit each other," Peter says, noticing the crestfallen expression on her face. He reaches across the table to take her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "No matter where we end up. Okay? I'll go down to, like, Texas if that's where you end up."

Lena laughs half-heartedly and squeezes his hand back, grateful for the little joke to lighten the mood. "Pa hates Texas. He'd never let me go down there, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Her stomach dips unpleasantly when Peter stiffens. It's the tell-tale sign of his sixth-sense activating, making dread coil in her gut. Not now. Come on, it's the one time we've been out—

He turns around in his seat. Lena follows his line of sight to see a woman staring at them from a few tables away, whispering something to her child. She switches seats with the boy so she's positioned between him and them, her apprehensive gaze flickering to their table every so often.

"Great," Peter mumbles in disdain. "We've been recognized."

"Ignore it," Lena tells him. "I saw that lady being rude to Salene when we were seated, anyway."

He faces her again, but she can tell that the woman is still bothering him. The hair on his wrists stands straight up where his sleeves expose his arms. Their hands are still clasped, so Lena tries to soothe him by gently rubbing her thumb back and forth along his skin.

"Here," she says, taking her phone out of the small purse she'd brought — a consequence of not having pockets in her dress. "Smile."

Peter does, and for a moment, the worry eases from his face as his expression lights up. The hanging lights give his skin a warmer glow that makes the amber in his eyes stand out. In the bottom corner of the photo, their clasped hands are visible on the table, a sight that makes Lena's heart warm when she examines the picture.

"Your turn." Peter aims his phone at her this time. She smiles at the camera, hoping that she looks as happy as she feels in spite of the woman still shooting them dirty looks. "Beautiful."

Lena notices movement out of the corner of her eye. She glances over to see a group of teenagers sitting against the far wall, with one of them obviously holding up their phone to take a photo of her and Peter sitting there. She shifts uncomfortably and tries to block it out of her mind. Fortunately, Kyril notices and approaches the group, telling them to delete the photo and informing them that taking pictures of other customers is prohibited. At least they have people sticking up for them.

Their food arrives, but she can hardly enjoy it because the entire restaurant seems to have recognized them by now. Their stares prickle like needles on her back. Hushed whispers catch her attention. Lena can only imagine what it must feel like to Peter, whose heightened senses enable him to feel and hear everything that's going on.

"—never should've trusted kids with those drones—"

"—really makes you question Tony Stark—"

"—The Daily Bugle accused her parents of being illegal immigrants—"

"—Thanos was right, things were better without them anyway—"

Each barely-audible scrap of conversation makes Lena's stomach twist to the point of pain. Her appetite decreases until she's picking at her moussaka instead of actually eating it. Peter doesn't move, his hand tightened into a white-knuckled fist around his fork. His cheeks are slightly flushed; he stares hard at his plate as his senses bombard him with the people's disapproval.

"—the charges were allegedly dropped," someone says with a sneer. "If you ask me, those kids would be locked up in a maximum-security prison— especially that witch right there. Who knows what she can do?"

A man at that table stands with his chair scraping against the tile. Lena pretends to not have heard them, so she continues messing around with her food until heavy footsteps approach their table. Just as she turns, something is tossed at her. It's only the fact that she'd managed to push her chair back in the knick of time that prevents the bread oil from landing on her face. Instead, the liquid splatters onto her dress, soaking into the cotton.

"Murderers!" the man yells, his face twisted in a sinister snarl.

Peter shoots to his feet, quickly moving in front of Lena. "Sir, was that really necessary?"

"You kids think you can just walk in here like you didn't commit a heinous crime? What, the charges are dropped and you thought we'd all just forget?"

"What is going on here?" Salene demands as she hurries in from the kitchen, her eyes widening at Lena's humiliated expression and the oil covering her clothes.

The man whirls on Salene, towering over her even if she's already tall. "You let people like this in here? They're a danger to all of us!"

"The only danger here is you," Salene shoots back. Though her eyes are ice-blue, Lena swears she could see something like the flicker of a flame in them for a split second, though that might just be from her enraged expression. "I'm going to have to ask you and your party to leave. Sir."

"Oh, so we're being punished for trying to protect ourselves?" He peers around Peter to glare daggers at Lena. "You're lucky it wasn't hot oil!"

Kyril appears out of nowhere and places both hands on the man's shoulders. Though he appears lean, he's surprisingly strong, ushering the guy outside within seconds.

As soon as he's gone, Peter turns and crouches down so he's level with Lena. He cups her cheek in his hand and catches one of her tears of embarrassment with his thumb. Gently wiping it away, he asks softly, "Are you okay?"

She can't speak through the lump lodged in her throat, so she nods instead. Physically, she's fine. But her cheeks burn hot with shame and her dress is ruined, and now everyone is watching her cry.

"I'm so sorry," Salene says to them. "Trust me, that entire table will be banned from ever coming back. Do you want me to wrap up your food for you?"

"Please," Peter says with a nod.

Lena's vision is blurry through the stupid tears that just keep coming, rolling down her cheeks in burning rivers that sting her eyes. She sniffles and wipes at her face with the heels of her hands. So much for looking nice tonight.

Salene returns with their meals in boxes. When Lena tries to hand her money, she shakes her head. "It's on the house, along with some dessert. You're always welcome back here." She hands Lena a piece of paper with an address written on it. "This is a dry cleaning place down the block. If you tell them Salene sent you, they'll get the stains out of your dress for free."

Lena physically can't thank her through the stupid lump in her throat or she'll burst into sobs, so she tries to convey all of her gratitude with a nod. Peter is able to vocally thank her. Even if their meal had been free, she still leaves the money she would have used to pay the bill on the table as a tip for Salene's kindness.

Peter carries the bag with their leftovers as they leave the restaurant. Instead of heading toward Happy's apartment, Lena continues down the street, driven by some odd sense of purpose while she sniffles and wipes at her stinging eyes once more. When she finally feels satisfied, she turns down a random alley and stares up at the top of the townhouses.

"Can't fly," she manages to mumble so quietly that if Peter didn't have super-senses, he wouldn't have been able to hear it. "Stupid dress."

What she means is that the skirt of her dress will flip upward if she attempts to fly to the roof. Luckily, Peter understands and hooks an arm around her waist, rolling up his sleeve to expose a webshooter attached to his wrist.

"Hold on," he says, and she clings to him, squeezing her eyes shut as he swings them upward. Her stomach dips and turns in response to the unfamiliar movement— she hasn't swung with him since they'd been on the Staten Island ferry. That feels like a lifetime ago.

They sit on the edge of the rooftop, with Lena tucking the fabric of her dress between her knees so it doesn't fly up due to the evening breeze. The sunset spills golden light across the city. From here, it looks beautiful, a memory of why she'd always liked to view the city from above. It hides all of the less favorable parts. One of which is a guy with a temper and an affinity for using dishes of olive oil as weapons. In hindsight, she should've thrown a slice of bread at him in retaliation.

"Here," Peter says, quickly undoing the buttons on his shirt, intending to pass it to her and stay in his white t-shirt. He only gets to the second button before Lena puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Keep your clothes on. This is only our second date," she jokes, her voice slightly tight, but it still enables her to give him a tiny smile now that her eyes have stopped leaking.

"But—"

"No. Your shirt will soak in some of the oil, too."

"I don't care." His voice is firmer than before, his stare direct but expression pleading. "Let me do this for you, okay?"

Lena swallows. Her heart swells. "Okay."

He finishes unfastening each button and then helps her stick her arms through the sleeves. Lena shivers as soon as the fabric envelopes her, flooding her with warmth and the scent of his cologne. She leans her head on his shoulder and sighs. Not even the beauty of the sunset can wash away the memory of their ruined dinner.

She closes her eyes for a moment and focuses on the good things. One, Peter is really warm. Two, his shirt smells fantastic. Three, she's spending time with her boyfriend. Four, they have leftover Greek food to look forward to— assuming the other occupants of Happy's apartment don't eat it first.

"This is where it all started," Lena says. "On a rooftop at sunset."

"I'm so glad I decided to follow you up there," Peter responds.

"I'm so glad I asked if I could kiss you."

"Me too. But I wish I would've said something other than, 'What'?"

Lena laughs, taking her head off of his shoulder and swinging her legs. "It was cute." Turning more somber, she adds, "I'm sorry that your birthday dinner was ruined. It was supposed to be perfect, and I really wanted a normal night out."

"Hey, it's okay," he assures her, placing his hand over hers. "It's always okay when I'm with you."

Lena's cheeks blossom with warmth at his words. She looks at him, admiring the way the fading sunlight makes his chestnut hair look dusted with gold. Even if her face is still blotchy from crying, Peter gazes at her like she's the most awe-inspiring thing he's ever seen. What did she do to deserve him?

It isn't clear who moves first, but soon their lips meet and everything else melts away. Lena's eyes flutter shut so she can focus on him. How his hand comes up to gently cup her cheek. How soft his curls are when she threads her fingers through his hair, playing with the locks at the back of his head. How it doesn't feel like they're close enough.

Peter seems to read her mind, because he swings his legs around and shifts further away from the edge of the roof, sitting cross-legged on the concrete. Moving with her eyes closed proves to be a terrible idea. She doesn't have Peter's super-agility, so she starts to slip when she tries to copy his action, her eyes snapping open and heart stopping for the split second she begins to fall. But Peter catches her just as quickly, his hands tightening around her waist and heaving her fully onto the roof.

Lena giggles nervously, her heart thundering with adrenaline. Peter pulls her down onto his lap. She's still smiling when their lips connect again, and now he's holding her more firmly like he's afraid she'll slip again. It's a sign of how much has changed since their first kiss when they'd hardly touched each other. They're much more comfortable now, but when Lena trails her tongue across his bottom lip, he makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat before opening his mouth to her.

She starts to think that Peter was right. Even though that small part of their day had gone horribly, things are feeling pretty okay.

_____

a/n:

a big big thank you to nocturnalamp for allowing me to include her OC salene again (and kyril too this time)! remember to check out her peter fic, "monster" to see salene in action as the sword of satan :) i love her so much🧡

i had a lot of fun writing this chapter (even though it took forever), especially the karaoke scene! some of those songs are from the "karaoke with the vigilante trio" playlist on my spotify— make sure to check it out if you haven't already! you can find the link to it in the carrd in my bio, or scan the code in the app.

and here are lena's outfits for the chapter!

as always, thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoyed the chapter! we're really going to start diving into the movie events, so buckle up😈

—kristyn

TRANSLATIONS:

Gunting: Scissors

Mahal kita: I love you