I'm having fun writing this! Oh, and if you can, can you fine readers write any girls you want to see appear in this story? I already have a list, but I want to see if I missed anyone or if I want to add more. I would greatly appreciate it!
Leave a comment if you want more!
____________
Chapter 4
He was dreaming again.
The sound of crying echoed through the empty corner of the playground.
Dreaming about the past.
A small boy, no older than seven, sat curled on the ground near the chain-link fence, knees pulled tight to his chest. His shoulders shook as tears streamed freely down his cheeks, splashing onto the cracked concrete beneath him.
His glasses lay a few feet away, one lens smudged, the frame bent just enough to make reaching for them feel pointless.
"Stupid nerd."
"Crybaby."
"Four-eyes."
"Think he's better than us just because he's 'smart'."
The words still rang in his ears even after the laughter had faded.
Peter Benjamin Parker sniffed, rubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. Everything hurt. His palms were scraped raw, his ribs ached where someone had pushed him, and the world beyond his blurred vision felt impossibly big and cruel.
He squinted toward his glasses, debating whether it was even worth crawling for them.
Then, before anyone could react—
A crack rang out across the playground as one of his bullies fell down, his left cheek red as tears began to form around his eyes from the pain of getting suckered punched.
Followed by a very loud, very angry voice.
"HEY ASSHOLES!"
Peter flinched.
The five bullies also froze as they turned just in time to see a blur of motion sprinting toward them like an unstoppable force.
The kid charging in wasn't bigger than any of the bullies.
In fact, he was just as small as Peter.
But he moved as if none of that mattered.
The second bully barely had time to react before a sneaker connected squarely with his side, sending him crashing into the dirt with a startled yelp.
"What the—?!"
"GET YO BITCH ASSES AWAY FROM HIM!"
Peter stared in wide-eyed disbelief as the unknown boy, whom he quickly recognized as the new transfer student, threw himself into the middle of the group, as if he wanted the fight despite clearly being outnumbered.
No words were said as the rest of the bullies rushed him all at once, while the ones who were hurt stayed down on the ground, groaning pitifully in pain.
Four against one.
It should've been a one-sided beatdown now that the boy no longer had the advantage of catching them off guard.
But it wasn't.
Peter watched as the boy fought like a caged animal backed into a corner, wild, reckless, and burning with rage. He threw himself into the fray without hesitation or fear, fists flying in all directions, shins cracking under his kicks. When one of them grabbed his collar, he didn't think; he bit down, earning a howl of pain and a hurried retreat.
Despite all this, he was still at a disadvantage of being outnumbered. If it were just a one-on-one, he would have easily won the fight… but it wasn't.
A punch slammed into his cheek, snapping his head to the side. A wild knee drove into his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs. Another blow clipped the side of his skull and sent him stumbling, vision flashing white for a heartbeat.
Peter could only look on from the sidelines in shame, too afraid to get up and go help the boy who came to his aid. He tried to yell at them to stop, but no words came out, causing even more shame to build.
But despite the beating the boy was taking, he didn't stay down.
He snarled, spat blood, and charged right back in, hurt, outnumbered, and completely unbroken.
Blood trickled from his split lip, and one eye was already starting to swell as he glared at the four boys who looked just as bad as him, if not worse.
Peter could only look at him in disbelief and awe while the bullies looked at him in fear, scared shitless.
Why, you may ask?
It was because he was smiling with a look in his eyes that said the fight wasn't over until he fucking said it was over.
"You bitches hit like fucking bitches!" he shouted, spitting blood on the dirt. "C'mon fuckers! What are you waiting for?! I'll beat all you dumbasses to a fucking pulp!!!"
That was when the bullies hesitated.
Then they started backing up and away from the transfer student.
The kid wasn't like the other kids, who they could easily bully and scare into submission.
He was fucking crazy.
One by one, they backed away, throwing scared glances over their shoulders as they ran.
"F-freak," one of them muttered, getting a glare from the boy, which quickly shut him up.
"L-Let's just go!"
The corner of the playground fell quiet again.
The kid stood there, breathing hard, knuckles scraped raw, chest heaving as adrenaline slowly drained from his system.
Then he turned.
His eyes landed on Peter.
For a moment, Peter thought he was going to get beaten up by him, too.
But that wasn't what happened.
The boy's face split into a smile so bright it felt like the sun had dropped into the playground.
"Hey~!" he said cheerfully, as if he hadn't just fought four other bigger kids at once. "You okay, dude?"
Peter was stunned for a moment before nodding weakly, wiping his eyes. "…I-I think so, b-but what about you?"
"I'm doing great! Thanks for asking!"
The glasses-wearing boy could only look at him in disbelief, especially at the bruises and cuts that were on his face.
The strange boy crouched down, picked up Peter's glasses, and carefully wiped the lenses on his shirt before holding them out.
"You dropped these."
"O-Oh, uh, t-thanks," he took them with shaking hands and slid them back onto his face. The world snapped back into focus, and with it, the boy standing in front of him.
Peter gasped.
Now that he could see clearly, the damage was impossible to miss. Scraped knees caked with dirt. A scratched face is already swelling beneath the skin. A split, bloodied lip, and one eye darkening with the signs of a bruise.
And yet—
The boy was smiling.
A real, bright smile, as if none of the pain bothered him in the slightest.
"Name's Taka," he said proudly, then stuck out his hand. "Wanna be friends?"
Peter stared at the hand and then looked back up at the smiling boy. "Y-You want to be friends with m-me?"
"Is that a rhetorical question, or just a yes wearing a fake fancy mustache?"
"W-What?"
The bo– Taka said nothing as he continued to smile with his hands still out, waiting for his.
Slowly, hesitantly, Peter reached out and took it, getting an even brighter smile from his new friend.
"…I-I'm Peter. Peter Parker"
Taka grinned as he pulled him up from the ground and began wiping the dirt off his shoulder, getting a small thanks from him.
"Bitchin! Well, then, new best bud! Let me tell ya something!"
He wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulder as he pulled Peter along with him.
"You and I," Taka said brightly, "are about to go on an amazing journey!"
Peter blinked.
Once…
Then Twice…
"…I-I feel like I should be concerned about that."
"You should be," Taka nodded sagely. "That's how you know it's gonna be fun."
And just like that…
Everything changed.
________
The sound of yelling woke him up before anything else.
"Hey! Taka to best bud! Taka to best bud! Get yo lazy ass up already! We have far too much to do and too damn little time for you to be fucking sleeping!!!"
Peter jolted awake with a sharp inhale, heart stuttering as the echoes of the playground faded from his mind. For half a second, he was seven again, cold concrete, scraped palms, laughter ringing in his ears—
Then a hand snapped its fingers inches from his face.
"Earth to Pete. Are you alive in there, or did you astral project?"
Peter blinked.
The familiar interior of the train car came into focus. The low hum of the tracks slowing down, the murmur of voices, and the hiss of doors preparing to open. Morning light streamed in through the windows, washing over rows of seats as passengers began to stand, stretching and gathering their things.
And standing right in front of him, far too awake, far too energetic for this hour, was Taka.
Already on his feet, already slinging his backpack over one shoulder. Already vibrating like he'd downed three energy drinks and decided sleep was a personal insult.
"…I was dreaming," Peter muttered, rubbing at his eyes and pushing his glasses up his nose.
"Yeah, I could tell," Taka said immediately as he checked his phone for the time and the map. "You had that look. The one where you're either reliving the past or inventing some new science thingy in your head."
Peter winced at how close he got. "That's… uncomfortably accurate."
Taka grinned. "I know! C'mon, up. We're here."
As if on cue, the train screeched to a stop. The doors slid open, and people began filing out, the flow slowly pulling them along. Taka grabbed Peter by the wrist before he could fully process what was happening and hauled him to his feet.
"Alright!" Taka clapped his hands once as he got out of the train. "Mission briefing time."
"…Mission?" Peter echoed weakly as he tried to keep up with his best friend.
"Yes, mission," Taka said seriously… well, as serious as someone like him could be. "Objective one: Acquire a present for Gwen. A good present. None of that 'I panicked and bought a book' shit."
Peter bristled. "Hey! Books are thoughtful!"
"They're safe," Taka shot back. "We are not doing safe, we are doing memorable, bitch. Besides, what teenage girl wants a fucking book for her birthday… no offense to those that do or anything, but you get my point!"
Peter opened his mouth, then hesitated. "…Okay, fair."
"Objective two," Taka continued, counting on his fingers, "we get you better clothes."
Peter immediately frowned. "I still don't understand why that's necessary."
Taka stopped walking.
Peter, too groggy this early in the morning, nearly walked into him.
Slowly, Taka turned his head and looked him dead in the eyes.
"Peter, buddy ol' pal of mine…" he said flatly, "your current wardrobe is a stab to the eye."
"What?!" Peter protested as he backed up to show his best buddy his fit. "They're comfortable! And practical!"
"They are terrible," Taka said, absolutely horrified. "You dress like you're trying not to be perceived."
"That's kind of the point," Peter muttered as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.
Taka squinted at him. "…No, we are getting you new clothes, and that is final! What kind of best friend would I be if I let my best mate dress as a virgin!"
"Says the virgin."
"Fuck you! I can get laid whenever I fucking want, I'll have you know!"
"Then why haven't you?"
"I'm busy."
He didn't believe that for a fucking second! He knew better than anyone that his gym rat of a friend was not the least bit busy!
"With fucking what!?!?" He shouted out, causing more than a few people to look at them weirdly. Usually, he didn't like to curse, but having spent most of his life around Taka, who cursed more than a sailor, it would rub off on even the purest of saints.
His best friend smiled at him with a smile that usually meant his life was about to get far more chaotic in the future.
"Stuff~"
And that was all he was going to get from Taka.
Peter sighed, giving up on the argument, and returned to the original topic.
"I just don't see what's wrong with my hoodies and loose shirts."
"They hide your muscles, and I work too har–! I-I mean, you worked way too hard for them just to not show off!"
"…But that's why I like them,"
Taka stared at him.
Peter stared back.
The train station continued to bustle around them as people streamed past, utterly unaware of the silent standoff occurring in the middle of the platform.
Then Taka's face went completely deadpan.
"…Absolutely not."
Peter blinked. "What?"
"Incorrect answer," Taka said, shaking his head. "Try again."
"Taka—"
"Nope! Wrong! Invalid! Rejected!" He grabbed Peter again and started dragging him forward. "First impressions fucking matter, bitch, and I refuse to let you walk into Gwen's line of sight dressed like a background character."
"I am literally trying to stay a background character!"
"And that," Taka said cheerfully, but something in his tone was strangely serious, "is where you and I fundamentally disagree."
Peter opened his mouth to argue, then stopped.
Something about the way Taka said it, so casual, so assured, made it sound like a fundamental truth.
As if the idea of Peter not being the center of things, not standing out, not mattering, was so absurd it hadn't even crossed Taka's mind.
"…You're impossible," Peter muttered.
Taka laughed, loud and unbothered, slinging an arm around his shoulders as they stepped out into the city together.
_____
[Daily Chaos Gatcha is now Rolling…]
[Epic Minecraft Enchanted Golden Apple]
Taka waved away the screen as he looked at what Peter was wearing in pure and utter disbelief, with a small mix of disappointment.
He stared.
Hard.
The hoodie was still too big, the pants were… baggy in a way that somehow made the rest of him look smaller. The colors clashed like they'd personally offended each other. It was the kind of outfit that screamed,
"I don't want to be perceived, and I will take hostages to ensure it."
Taka felt physical pain in his chest.
"What the actual fuck am I looking at, Peter?" he demanded, hands planted on his hips like a disappointed drill sergeant.
Peter blinked at him. "Clothes?"
"Those are crimes," Taka shot back. "You look like a background extra in a coming-of-age movie who dies metaphorically in act one."
Peter frowned and looked down at himself, not seeing the problem. "Didn't you say you wanted better? How is this not better?"
He took a quick look in the mirror and still didn't see the problem.
"That," Taka said gravely, "is a problem."
Thus began The Great Dress-Up Disaster.
Taka shoved Peter back into the fitting room and started handing him clothes like a man possessed. Jackets, shirts, jeans, and sweaters were tossed in one after another.
Colors that felt right in Taka's soul but had no business being worn together.
Peter emerged in outfit number two.
Taka squinted, hands on his chin as he looked him up and down. "…You look like a bitchass substitute teacher."
"How is that a bad thing?"
Peter was shoved back in the room, much to his protest.
Outfit three.
"Why are you dressed like an asshole divorced dad on a weekend visit?"
"Taka… you picked this."
Outfit four.
"Okay, no, that one makes you look like the Bay Harbor butcher."
"What?"
"Nothing."
Peter, increasingly tired and mildly offended, stared at him through the mirror. "Do you actually know what you're doing?"
Taka opened his mouth to say he absolutely did.
But then it closed.
Then he frowned.
He glanced at a nearby mirror, taking in his own outfit, and felt an unfamiliar emotion creep in.
Doubt.
"…Okay," he muttered. "Minor setback."
A very minor setback.
He crossed his arms, pacing in front of the dressing rooms while Peter changed again. Maybe, maybe, this required professional help.
His hand drifted toward his phone.
Uncle Ben would know, he thought grimly as he began to call his trump card.
That was when a voice spoke up behind him.
"Um… excuse me?"
Taka turned, phone still in hand.
A blonde girl stood there, around their age, holding a folded sweater. She looked amused, kind, even, like she'd been watching a particularly tragic comedy unfold and finally decided to intervene.
"I don't mean to intrude," she said gently, eyes filled with a sympathetic pity, "but I couldn't notice that you're in desperate need of help. While I'm not much of a fashionista myself, I feel as though I'm better than whatever you two are currently doing."
Taka blinked.
Then his brain connected the dots.
Oh.
Oh hell.
Is that fucking Sue Storm?!?
Sue smiled again, taking his silence as an embarrassed yes. "I've been watching you two for a bit, and… no offense, but it looks like you guys have no idea what you're doing."
Taka didn't hesitate, refusing to lose this golden opportunity; he bowed.
"PLEASE."
She laughed, misunderstanding his action. "I meant helping him."
"EVEN BETTER."
Before Sue could say anything else, Taka spun on his heel and kicked open the fitting room door that his best bud was in to tell him the great news.
"PETE!" he yelled. "CHANGE OF PLANS! Sue, here is gonna help you pick out clothes!"
"Wha-? W-Who—?" Peter's panicked as he tried to cover himself but failed miserably. "Taka, I'm literally undressing!"
"PERFECT! GREAT TIMING! TRUST THE PROCESS!"
"Taka—!"
"I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO DO!" Taka shouted, already backing away. "BE NICE! DON'T PANIC! AND DON'T PICK THAT FUCKING HOODIE!"
Then he booked it.
Sue stared after him, stunned, before turning to look at Peter, who tried to sneakily close the door before she turned around. Unfortunately for him, he failed to do so in time.
The beautiful blonde girl was met with an impressive sight of his hard-earned physique, causing both her and Peter to blush.
She quickly looked away before things could get too uncomfortably awkward. "…D-Did your friend just abandon you with me?"
Peter opened the door that he just closed, making it so that only his head was visible, face completely red. "…That sounds like him."
Sue smiled sympathetically before picking out some clothes that she thought would fit him.
"H-How about we try these on?"
The glasses-wearing teen took it from her hands while offering her a shaky smile. "S-Sure, t-thanks for the help by the way."
She gave him a beautiful one back, causing him to blush, suddenly realizing he was talking to a very beautiful girl.
"No problem~"
"Mission accomplished," Taka thought proudly as he watched his best friend hit it off with the future Invisible Woman, right up until he nearly collided with another blond heading towards his best mate's direction.
It was Sue's brother, Johnny, the future Human Torch, glaring at his best mate with a look that promised to stop Peter from scoring!
Taka's danger sense went apeshit.
"Oh no, you fucking don't," he muttered as he moved quickly with a purpose.
Without missing a beat, Taka stepped directly into Johnny's path, arms spreading wide like a living barricade.
"Whoa," Johnny said, stopping short. "Uh, can I help you, dude?"
"Nope," Taka replied instantly. "But I can help you."
Johnny raised an eyebrow, glaring at him. "Do I know you?"
"Not yet, no," Taka said, seriously getting a raised brow from Johnny. "But trust me, whatever you're about to do? Fucking Don't."
Johnny glanced past him toward the dressing rooms and at his best friend and Sue hitting it off.
"I'm just going to help my sister with a creep real quick, so why don't you fuck off, huh?"
"Crazy coincidence!" Taka said loudly, sliding sideways to block the view even more. "That creep you're talking about? That's my best friendo, who your sister is currently trying to help find his way."
"…What?" The confused Storm asked, completely lost.
"Personal growth," Taka clarified as if that explained everything. "Fashion is involved."
Johnny stared at him for a long moment.
Then smirked. "You think you can stop me, tough guy?"
"Is that a rhetorical question, or just a yes wearing a fake fancy mustache?"
Johnny laughed, actually laughed, clutching his stomach and all.
"You're weird!"
Then he got serious, his laughter completely gone, as his body tensed.
"But that won't stop me from kicking your ass and your friends' ass."
"Fucking try it then bitch ass motherfucker!!!"
They locked eyes, neither one backing down.
Somewhere behind them, Peter Parker was having a grand ol' time with a future heroine who many consider to be in their top ten in terms of looks.
And Taka stood firm.
Because no one, no one, was going to cockblock his best friend on his fucking watch.