#spidykoo

not empty. there were already gold carts moving between buildings, lights on behind the narrow windows of prodcution offices, people crossing from one soundstage to another with coffees balanced against stacks of papers, but none of it possessed the particular urgency he'd somehow associated with making a film this large. nobody ran. a man in a cap stood beside one of the loafing bays eating a banana while somebody drove an entire artificial tree past him on a trolley.

jeongguk watched it disappear behind the next building. his manager looked up from his phone. "what?"

"nothing." it was definitely too early.

"you've been staring outside since we entered."

"'m lookin'."

"ah," the manager shifts in his seat, "at the tree?"

"it looked real."

he nodded, glancing back at his phone, "it probably is."

jeongguk considered that, "then why are they moving it?"

his manager only managed to sigh. the car continued for another hundred meters before turning toward the row of the soundstages he'd already memorized from the documents production had sent over. stage eleven, twelve. several trailers parked beside one another. temporary fencing, a security station where a man is wearing an earpiece checked them in without reacting to the same on jeongguk's pass.

it had been several months since the casting announcement and siderably longer since the first audition, but seeing PETER PARKER / SPIDER-MAN printed beneath his name still produced a small disconnect somewhere behind his ribs. he'd stopped photographing it, at least [mostly because his manager had caught him doing it twice].

the car stopped outside stage twelve. "call me if the schedule changes." his manager leans forward, eyes stern.

jeongguk was already opening the door, "I know."

"and eat."

he narrowed his eyes, lips pursed. "I eat."

"properly. coffee isn't breakfast."

jeongguk scoffed, "yes, mother."

his manager looked at him and jeongguk wasted no time returning the look. neither bothered pretending this conversation hadn't happened hundreds of times before.

"I'll eat."

"good."

the door shut behind him and for the first time in that morning, he was alone. it lasted approximately twelve seconds.

"jeongguk?" a production assistant approached from the entrance, headset resting around her neck and two laminated sheets tucked beneath one arm. "mornin'. 'm lucy."

he bowed slightly before remembering where he was and converting the movement halfway into something closer to a nod. "morning."

she either didn't notice or was polite enough not to. "hair and make-up are expecting you. wardrobe after that, then you're on stage twelve for blocking at eight-fifteen. they changed the order slightly form yesterday's call sheet."

"camera test before rehearsal?"

her eyebrows rose, "yeah."

he nodded, "I saw the revision."

"oh." she smiled. "perfect. you're easier than most of them already."

that made him laugh quietly. years of being handed schedules that changed three times between breakfast and rehearsal had apparently translated into a marketable skill. lucy pointed him toward the trailers and hurried off again before he could ask anything else.

that part - at least - felt familiar. a production was a production. different country, different scale, different terminology, but underneath it all there were still people arriving before sunrise so that somebody else could stand beneath a light several hours later and make something look effortless.

he knew how to do that. it helped.

---

hair and makeup smelled almost exactly like every hair and makeup room he'd ever sat in. products he couldn't identify. hot styling tools. coffee. someone's half eaten breakfast.

three stations were already occupied, although only one person seemed properly awake. a man in the far right chair had his eyes closed whole somebody worked beneath them with a sponge. another was reading something on a tablet.

"jeongguk?"

he turned. a woman waved him over with a comb between two fingers, "I'm claire. come save my morning."

"already?"

"you're my easiest appointment." she sighed, hands on her hips.

"I haven't sat down."

"exactly."

he smiled and took the chair. there was something comforting about the immediacy if it. no ceremony, no discussion about the casting. nobody needed him to explain how he felt about taking on one of the most recognizable characters in film history before seven in the morning. claire touched his hair, frowned thoughtfully, pushed it in another direction and asked product he usually used.

within five minutes, his phone was resting face-down beside the mirror ands eyes and wandered towards the day's side instead. he'd worked through them the night before. there wasn't much dialogue scheduled today. mostly camera sets, blocking and a short rehearsal opposite his co-worker - you - before they moved into proper shooting later in the week. you two had already met already, technically - chemistry reads, rehearsals, one production dinner during which they'd been seated far enough apart that their conversation had consisted primarily of hello and goodbye.

he knew considerably more about her work than he knew about her. that was normal. probably.

when they'd told him about who was being considered for gwen, he'd recognized the name immediately. then the face. then several roles at once. you'd been working since you were young enough for interviews to still occasionally bring up films you'd made as a child, despite the fact the fact that you'd spent the better part of the last decade proving that you weren't one anymore.

good actress, quiet.

that had been the extent of his assessment after their screen test.

extremely good actress, actually. still quiet.

you'd smiled at him afterwards, told him he'd done well, and then disappeared with somebody from production before he'd managed to decide whether conversation was supposed to continue beyond that.

claire moved his chin gently, "look down."

he did.

the door opened behind them, though nobody looked particularly interested. jeongguk only glanced toward the mirror because movement caught there first.

you came in carrying a canvas bag against your side and a coffee with both hands. for a second, you remained near the entrance, looking around as though checking where you were meant to be despite being one of the stations having your name taped beneath the mirror.

then, you saw him. there was the smallest hesitation, not discomfort, but recognition recalibrating.

"morning." your voice is softer than he remembered.

"morning."

you smiled, small but real. then you crossed toward the empty station beside his. there was nothing cinematic about seeing his co-star for the first time that morning. no costume yet, no styled hair. no gwen.

you wore loose black trousers, trainers and a zip-up sweatshirt that swallowed most of your hands when you put the coffee down. your hair had been tied back badly enough that several pieces had already escaped around your face. you placed your bag beneath the counter before sitting.

"morning, sweetheart." your makeup artist appeared from somewhere behind. your own makeup artist.

your smile immediately warmed. "hi."

you two carried on with your familiar routine of checking with each other, granting jeongguk to avert his eyes to look at the script on the counter.

"are you nervous?" the makeup artists question made him look back at you, his eyes met yours through the mirror.

you looked down, humming, "a little, I guess?"

this time, he couldn't hold back, "oh?"

you looked back at him, shrugging with a tiny smile on your lips. "first days."

"yeah, me too." jeongguk didn't know why he wanted to share this piece of information with you. "especially if I want to do well."

an airy laughter escaped your lips, "same."

it was odd, seeing your shoulders relax after agreeing with him. be he understood it.

claire tapped his forehead with a brush, "you two can have your existential crisis after 'm done."

you couldn't help but giggle, and jeongguk did too. and then the room returned to what it had been before you came in. brushes against skin, pages turning. somebody asking for setting spray, the low murmur of conversation at the opposite station.

the two of you didn't talk again, and somehow jeongguk really liked it. not because he didn't want to speak to you. because there was no pressure to.

----

by seven-thirty, jeongguk had already changed twice. the first camera test was simple enough: peter's everyday clothing, three lighting setups, several lenses. stand on the mark, turn slightly, look toward camera. look past camera. adjust his shoulders - again.

this, too, he knew well. different instructions, same language. he'd spent enough of his life being told to find a piece of colored tape on the floor that he could probably do it without looking.

the cinematographer watched the monitor. "can we lose the jacket?"

as wardrobe stepped forward, jeongguk has already shrugged off the jacket and handed it over.

"hair, tiny adjustments." someone stepped in, moved two strands near his forehead and disappeared.

"jeongguk, chin down." he moved. "good." click. another. "look camera-left." click. "perfect."

you watched from just outside the setup, waiting for your turn. you also had changed, though it was nothing dramatic. just jeans, a soft blue sweater, coated folded over one arm. they hadn't transformed either of you into characters so much as nudged them toward people who could could plausibly exist somewhere in queens.

jeongguk stepped away from the mark, you stepped forward. as you passed one another , you speak up gently, "you're good at that."

he glanced back, head tilted. "what?"

wetting your lips, you repeated yourself. "good at finding the light." you sounded genuinely impressed.

jeongguk couldn't help but smile in gratitude at her kind words, bashingly raising a shoulder, "I practiced."

your mouth pulled slightly at one corner. "right."

he almost asked what you'd expected. then somebody called your name and you turned immediately. the change was subtle - that was the first thing he noticed about watching you work.

you outside the fame seemed to conserve yourself well. you stood with your shoulders rounded when nobody needed anything from you, hands usually occupied with whatever happened to be nearby - coffee, script, the cuff of your sleeves. when crew spoke to you, you listened properly. when you answered, it was rarely more than necessary. jeongguk had seen you in the stories from other actors and previous co-stars of yours. you seemed more open, lighter in a way. he guessed that it took time for you to warm up to a new crew.

then the camera found you and nothing dramatic happened. you simply became easier to look at. not bigger. not louder - but more precise.

jeongguk understood that too. he watched the monitor for a few seconds before deciding he was probably standing somewhere she shouldn't and moving out the way.

"chin lightly left." you adjusted. "eyes to me." you did. "beautiful." click.

jeongguk took a sip of water. interesting.

----

the first blocking rehearsal came nearly an hour later. the set had changed since is last visit. or perhaps he'd simply had mire time to look at it now.

part of a manhattan street had been built inside the soundstage, complete from the right angle to make the unfinished edges stranger. a bus to, graffiti deliberately painted onto brick walls. a newspaper box bolted to pavement that ended ten meters later in bare studio floor.

jeongguk stepped onto the curb and looked down. heh, concrete. he bent slightly and tapped it with one knuckle. wood?

"disappointing?" you stood behind him with a script tucked under your arm.

he straightened. "I knew it wasn't real."

you tilted your head, "you checked."

he pursed his lips, "I was confirming."

you nodded solemnly, "of course." it was the closest you'd come to teasing him.

he noticed, but before he could answer, the director called you two over. you stood beside the other while the scene was explained.

simple. peter crossed from the opposite pavement. gwen was already waiting near the bus stop. they met, started walking together ´, exchanged several lines and stopped when a bicycle courier passed between them. no stunt. no effects. nothing particularly complicated.

which meant you spent nearly forty minutes doing so. the first attempt established the distance, the second changed your mark, the third changed his. the fourth lasted five seconds before someone for lighting stepped in. the sound, then camera. then somebody discovered that the artificial streetlight reflected strangely bin one of the windows.

you two waited next to the other, not bothered by it, after a few minutes, you shifted your weight. "how many times do you think we're going to all this street today?"

he looked toward the set, "twenty."

"only?"

"thirty?"

you hummed, "better."

"you think more?" jeongguk looked back at you.

"I've spent an entire day opening a door."

jeongguk laughed, "just opening it?"

"opening it, entering, closing it." you nodded, shifting your weight once more. "I stopped counting after forty."

he looked at the fake shop entrance beside you, jerking his head to the side. "I could do forty."

you turned toward him. something in your expression suggested you'd learned a piece of information you intended to remember. "I believe you."

jeongguk could only scoff before he could decide whether that had been praise, though somebody already called you to reset. you returned to your marks.

the next take went smoothly until you accidentally stopped half an inch in front of your mark. "sorry." you moved back immediately.

"no worries. again."

you reset. this time, jeongguk missed his mark. you said nothing, only looked down at his show, then up at him. his show sat nearly beside the strip of the blue tape rather than on it.

"don't."

your mouth twitched. "I didn't say anything?"

he narrowed his eyes, "you were going to."

"nuh uh."

"you looked!"

"i have eyes."

"places!"

you turn away from each other. jeongguk smiled as he walked back. there you were - not quite yet. but somewhere beneath the quietness, there was clearly something else.

---

lunch came late. not disastrously late, merely late, which meant everyone had spent the previous half-hour pretending they weren't checking the time.

jeongguk took his plate outside. there were tables arranged beneath temporary awing between the stages, most already occupied by crew. he recognized serval members of the stand department and nearly headed their before spotting an empty chair further down.

you sat at the table beside it. alone, although the remains of somebody else's coffee suggested you hadn't been alone long. you were reading. not the script, but an actual book. jeongguk slowed as you looked up. for a moment neither of you spoke. then you moved your bag from the empty chair without him asking and he took that as permission.

"thanks."

"mhm."

he sat and you went back to your pages. that was all - there was something unexpectedly comfortable about it. jeongguk usually dealt horribly with silence, though he also didn't speak up until spoken to. but this time, he just ate and you read. people passed you, someone from wardrobe stopped briefly to tell you they needed you after lunch. you thanked them. another crew member jeongguk had met that morning waved and he returned it. after a few minutes, you put a bookmark between the pages.

jeongguk looked at the cover. "you read during lunch?"

you glanced down, "sometimes."

"doesnt that make you tired?"

"talking makes me tired." at your words, jeongguk paused his fork halfway to his mouth. your eyes widen slightly. "not- I didn't mean you-"

jeongguk laughed, "I know."

you groaned, "that sounded horrible."

"a little."

"'m sorry."

now he laughed properly, so much that his ears were turning pink. that made it worse.

you felt the heat creep up your neck. "I really didn't mean-"

jeongguk calmed down, "I know."

you opened the book again, hoping to distract yourself. "kay."

jeongguk looked at you for a second, then returned back to his food. a minuted passed.

from behind the book, "I like talking to you."

he looked over. only your eyes that were cautiously watching him were visible above the top edge now. it seemed the admission had coster her considerably more than the sentence warranted.

jeongguk smiled. "good."

you waited. "that's all?" you want to kick yourself for sounding so disappointed.

"what do you want me to say?" he couldn't help but grin at your state. the way you had lowered the book only to reveal the gentle pouts on your lips.

"don't know." you mumble.

"I like talking to you too."

a bright smile graced your face, book lifting up. "okay."

"okay." jeongguk continued eating, although the side remained for longer than necessary.

----

the first week of filming did very little to either of you to help understand the film in the order anyone would eventually watch it. by wednesday, jeongguk had already apologized to gwen for something peter had not even done yet, filmed the aftermath of an argument scheduled for the end of the month, and spent an hour being told exactly how much he was supposed to know in a scene that came directly after one they had not shot. you seemed to find this less confusing than he did, it simply wasn’t something he had gotten used to over the past years he had been part of this branch. he suspected that you already had long accepted that filmmaking required you to emotionally time-travel for a living.

he found you that morning sitting outside the set with your script folded open over one knee, already in costume, one ankle under the other. your hair had been styled into something deliberately effortless, which meant it had taken about thirty minutes. jeongguk dropped into the chair next to yours.

you looked over, eyes still slightly swollen. “mornin’.”

“morning.” he lifted the sides in his hands. “what are we angry about this time?”

you glanced down at your own pages. “you disappeared for three days. no contact.”

“ouh, was that me?” jeongguk tilted his head to the side, scratching something off his nail.”

“peter.”

he raised one eyebrow, “good.”

your mouth twitched. “you seem relieved, huh?”

“i have a good alibi.”

“which is?”

“spider man.”

you looked at him for a second, then lowered your eyes again, smile only appearing when you had already turned away. this was how you tended to laugh with him at first. quietly. like you had yet not decided whether you wanted him to know he was funny. jeongguk noticed anyway.

—

the set was a school hallway built only as far as the camera needed it to exist. the lockers opened, the classroom doors did not. you discovered this a bit too late, only during rehearsal when you leaned your weight against one and already vanished backwards through the frame.

jeongguk caught you by the elbow before you got too far.

you straighten immediately, clearing your throat. “i- i knew that.”

he bit down on the inside of his cheek, “oh you so didn’t.”

you raised your hand to playfully slap his shoulder, mouth opened to defend yourself when someone from crew called you back to the marks. the scene itself was simple on paper; Gwen was annoyed, Peter was defensive and neither of them was meant to say what they were actually upset about.

on the first take, you came in slightly too sharp, whereas on the second jeongguk held back to much. he believes that the two of you still have to get used to the rhythm of the other, understand how to read the cues and signs. and with the help of the director, it all slowly fell into its place.

peter crossed the hallway toward her, a tiny skip in his steps as he was eager to settle the tension between them. he bumped shoulders with another student, hands now settled on the straps of his very used bag pack. from her peripheral vision, Gwen had already seen Peter approach her and crossed her arms in front of her chest, though the movement looked less defensive now and more like she'd done it because she had been standing there too long waiting for him.

his voice was airy, almost breathless as he tried to calm his nerves. "hey."

she did not answer, looking at him once before turning away. Peter stopped, unsure how to proceed.

you can't help but snort at the long silence. "uhm, aren't you supposed to say something?"

jeongguks nose scrunched as he bit back a laugh, turning toward the camera with an apologetic bow, "ah, I forgot, let- I'll come back once more." he started walking back to his first mark, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waits for his signal. he looked at you, getting back into your annoyed stance.

"c'mon, Spiderman." you rolled your eyes playfully, "your girlfriend is pretty pissed at you!"

jeongguk exhaled once, easing the tension in his shoulders, "just leave it to me, I got this."

the director gave him his cue, and Peter once again walked toward Gwen, her back turned to him as she tried her best to ignore his presence. this time, he dodged the shoulder of the student coming at him, steps hurried. "hey."

Gwen stayed quiet, arms crossed in front of her chest. she didn't move away, granting Peter the chance to move even closer to her, "you've been avoiding me."

Gwen look at him, eyebrows drawn together. "I have been avoiding you?"

Peter turned his head away, eyes dancing around the dirty floor to gather his best excuses, "I- yeah- I've been busy."

"for three days?"

Peter hesitated, mumbling out whatever he could, "somethingcameup."

shaking her head, Gwen scoffed at the lame excuse. she stepped away, creating some distance between their bodies. "something always comes up."

there was a pause. not because jeongguk forgot his lines, simply because he believed that Peter would need it. "wha- what do you want me to say?" he lifted a shoulder, eyes never leaving Gwens face.

"the truth would be nice." she ran a hand through her hair, stopping at the side of her neck to scratch away her nerves. something in her expression shifted just enough for jeongguk to understand where you wanted to take it. not anger, no. disappointment.

that changed everything. with a softer voice, Peter slumped his shoulder to make himself appear smaller. "you know I can't."

"and I can't trust you, Peter." nobody moved, the silence went one beat longer than planned. the director called cut.

someone stepped in to smooth your hair where it had caught against the collar of your sweater. sound came over to adjust jeongguks mic, and a prop assistant fixed the angle of a backpack that had not moved more than two centimeters.

you looked at him through the small crowd that grew between you two. "that was good, but she is still pretty pissed."

jeongguk couldn't help but smile. "oh, yeah?"

"mhm."

"just wait, I'll show you." and jeongguk knew that it would be awesome. he had talked to the director about a little tweak he really wanted to add to the story. he bet that you would also love it.

then, makeup moved between them and the moment disappeared, as most of their first week happened to be like that. briefly.

--

by Thursday, jeongguk knew which cup belonged to you before you did. you had three coffees lined up along the counter in hair and makeup, two of them dead, one still warm. you came in with a fourth, and jeongguk couldn't help but snort as he nodded toward the other cups.

"you know those are yours, right?" he looked at you as your gaze shifted to the three cups, stopping right next to his chair.

you nodded, "yeah, this one's for you." you held the cup towards him, careful to not disturb Claire as she worked with fake blood along his face and neck.

"oh." he took the cup from your hands, wetting his lips as he looked at it. "thank you."

he should have known, jeongguk thinks to himself as he watched you take your third cup and sit down at your own station. he should have known that you were a kind and attentive person, never shying away from helping those around you. he continued to watch you through the mirror as you search through your handbag, lips pursed. "you good?"

you glanced up, "yeah, 'm lookin' for my lip balm, actually." he continued to move your hand inside the full bag, grumbling to yourself.

jeongguk looked toward the counter. there was one beside the first dead coffee, and another one on the far end, next to the mirror. he cleared his throat, prompting you to first look at him before your gaze followed his, eyes finally landing at the one next to the coffee. you then looked back at him, biting your lip.

"heh."

he smiled to himself as he watched you take the balm and then get up from your chair, waving him and Claire goodbye.

that afternoon was the first time you saw him properly in the suit. not the final reveal, not some dramatic entrance designed for reaction footage. he simply came out of wardrobe while two people were still arguing about the fit on one shoulder and another adjusted the web-shooter at his wrist. you didn't waste time taking out your phone to film him, making him strike a pose when he saw the camera pointed at him.

jeongguk squatted down in classic spider man fashion, one hand forming the iconic web shooting style as the other supported his weight against the floor. "whatcha think, gwen?"

you put your phone down and got up from your seat, circling around jeongguk who now stood tall. "oh man." you shook your head, "I- woah. like, I don't even know what to say."

jeongguk looked down at his covered hands and flexed his fingers, also in disbelief. "I can't wait to work with it."

something in your expression cracked at his words, the reserved little smile you had been offering him all week becoming fuller before you could stop it. jeongguk liked it more than he expected. not because he needed your approval, because it felt earned. another person from crew appeared in front of you two, a vlogging camera pointed at you.

"say jaykay, what do you think?"

you took a step back to give him more room to move, making a small wave at the camera.

jeongguk gave it a full three-sixty, presenting the suit from all angles. "I have never seen myself from that many angles during fitting. my ass looks incredible in this suit!" he glanced up excitedly, flexing his biceps this time.

you laughed at his words, wordlessly nodding as you continued to eye him up. the camera panned toward you this time, the same question following.

"I can't believe I am standing next to spider man!" your eyes looked like they held the universe inside them, "actually, I always wanted to be spider man, but working with him is just as cool."

sharing a laughter with the crew member, jeongguk and you answered a few more questions before he was called to test the wires for the next scene. waving at the camera, you two moved towards the next stage, eager to test out the suit.

--

the scene that followed involved neither webs nor fighting [much to his dismay]. instead, Peter stood outside Gwens window. that was pretty much all. the window belonged to a set that ended immediately beyond the frame., which meant jeongguk spent the first rehearsal climbing onto a ledge no higher than his knew and pretending he had reached it from several stories up.

you stood inside the room, one hand resting on the curtain. "you're late."

Peter looked at her, wetting his lips. "I, eh, was busy."

Gwen rolled her eyes, opening the window wider. "you always say that."

peter places his hands onto the windows frame, weight on his arms. "never busy enough for you, though." he is breathless, given all the stories he had climbed up [yeah, sure.].

Gwen lost the fight and let her lips stretch into a smile. it was impossible winning against Peter Parker. that much she knew.

they share a small moment of silence before the director called cut. one the second take, jeongguk leaned against the frame differently. on the third, you changed the pause before opening the window. by the fifth, you stopped discussing it between takes, something that started happening in the way the both of you read each other. you would shift and jeongguk knew to move with you. he would hold a line back and you would give him the space he needed - it made acting opposite you feel less like memorizing and more like catching. he enjoyed that, more than he said.

--

night shoots changed everybody - that it what he had learned by Friday. somewhere around midnight, the careful professionalism of the day loosened by many degrees. crew still worked - nobody would ever become careless. but jokes lasted longer, coffee got stronger, and people stopped pretending they weren't exhausted.

you, wrapped in a long production coat over Gwen's costume, sat on the curb outside the stage with a box of fries balanced on one knee. jeongguk came over still wearing the bottom half of the spider man suit, hoodie pulled over the top. his glasses sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his bangs falling out of the hood pulled over his head.

you looked at him, snorting. "you look ridiculous." still, you didn't waste time opening the camera app to take a picture of him as he sat down, a tiny groan leaving his lips.

"'m getting old."

you moved the fries as much as you could, a silent offer he would never pass. jeongguk took one, then multiple squeezed between his thumb and pointer finger. you looked down. "those were mine."

"you moved them." he shrugged, chewing the remains. neither of you cared how many he ate.

around you, the lot had gone strangely quiet between setups. a generator hummed nearby, someone pushed equipment past you two. the fake rain rig was being reset for the next take.

you leaned back on your palms. "'m tired." you puffed your cheeks to hold back your yawn.

it was his first time hearing you say it without immediately covering the admission with a joke. "me too."

you sat without talking for a while, and jeongguk realized at some point that this had become normal. not the silence, but the two of you sharing a comfortable space.

---

your first wired scene together happened the following Monday. you had done wire work before, which meant you knew enough to dislike the waiting more than the actual drop. the platform stood a few meters above the mats, surrounded by green screen and crew. you were already clipped in when jeongguk came over in costume, mask pulled back, the suit catching every light in the room.

you flexed your fingers, and he noticed. "you good?"

"mhm." the answer came too quickly. he looked at you, looked at the tension in your jaw crawling dow to your shoulders. you looked away and let out a quiet sigh when he did not ask again.

instead, he glanced toward the green wall. "do you think pigeons understand glass?"

your head turned, "what?"

"if they're flying toward a window, do they know it's there?" he put his hands on his hips, "I've seen so many of them just crash against it."

your snort immediately made him smile, happy at the fact that he could relieve some of the tension around you. your expression changed, even if only slightly. he looked away before you could decide whether to be embarrassed by the fact he'd notice, but are saved when someone called for the final checks.

your harness was adjusted one last time while jeongguk stood below where he needed to catch you. before taking his mark, he looked up and you met his eyes. he raised two fingers, tiny. you nodded, then the rig was released.

the first take was late, not dangerously, but just enough that the wires carried more of your weight than his arms did.

"cut!"

you were lowered. jeongguk looked at the coordinator. "I missed."

they shook their head, "the release was early."

"i was still late." "by half a beat." jeongguk nodded once, "again."

you watched him while the rig reset. there was no frustration in the dramatic sense, no bruised ego, no performance of perfectionism. just attention to the right timing he aimed at. that was all. the second take was better, the third cleaner.

on the fourth, it finally clicked. you dropped and jeongguk moved instantly, one arm caught around your waist, the other behind your shoulders, and the rig carried the rest of the motion into a controlled swing that looked far more dramatic than it felt. your hand went to the back of his neck automatically, body pressed against his. you stopped close, very close. and for a second, neither of you moved. Peter was supposed to look frightened, his arms tightening their hold around Gwens shaken figure. the strange part was that neither expression required much effort.

then, the director called cut and the spell dissolved. your feet reached the mat as jeongguk let you go. "you okay?"

you swallowed a dry spit and nodded, "yeah, you?"

he nodded, stepping away as someone came to unclip you. jeongguk rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.

---

the days began blurring after that, not because they became repetitive, but because repetition was what made you comfortable.

there were early mornings in makeup where you barely spoke until someone put a glass of ice cold water into your hands. there were afternoons spent running lines in whichever corner of the set happened to be quiet. jeongguk learned that you hated reheating your coffee and would rather drink it cold, grumbling about being an alpha. you learned that he stretched without noticing he was faint it whenever he had been sitting too long. he also started leaving his Spiderman water bottle in your trailer. the first time, accidentally. the second time? eh, maybe not.

"you forgot this." you held it out when he appeared at your door.

jeongguk looked at the bottle, smacking his lips. "I knew where it was."

you rolled your eyes, "you didn't. you came back for your script."

his gaze shifted to the script in your other hand. he felt his ears turn pink, voice tiny. "oh."

shaking your head, you stepped out your trailer. "how do you even survive?"

"very well, thank you very much."

you handed both over. jeongguk took the bottle first. "eh, debatable."

he jerked his head to the side, brows furrowed. "why do you have my script?"

"you left it on my couch last night?"

jeongguk smiled, making your eyes narrow and question what he wanted. he just shrugged, moving along. you called his name after him, jaw slack at the audacity of him ignoring you.

---

production eventually developed a rhythm around you two. crew stopped introducing you to departments they already knew. your favorite tea began appearing in the makeup trailer without anyone asking, someone from wardrobe kept extra socks for jeongguk because he somehow never had enough. you even began eating together more often than not.

sometimes with the stunt team, sometimes surrounded by crew, other times alone because everyone else had already got back to set. no one announced the change, which jeongguk seemed to like the most. he had simply stopped asking whether the seat next to you was taken. you just moved your bag before he could even utter a single word.

somewhere along the way, even your silence changed, as it was no longer the silence of someone deciding how much to offer of themself. sometimes you leaned against the chair and complained about a costume seam ridding into your side. sometimes you told him about something stupid you had seen online - even rumors about you two that made no sense.

the strangest part was how quickly work followed both of you home without intending it to.

you returned to your hotel room most nights and took gwen off piece by piece. makeup first, hairpins next. costume long gone by then, replaced by whatever you had thrown on in your trailer before leaving. some nights, you still heard jeongguk's awkward delivery of a line while brushing your teeth. not because it was ground breaking, but because you had heard it for almost two hours by then.

jeongguk reviewed scene before bed when he had enough energy - which was almost every night. on nights he didn't, he lay there and let the day replay badly in fragments, focus on how he could have had a better delivery of certain lines or made a better position when landing after a backflip. sometimes he even thought of you and how you hid your laugh behind your script when he purposely messed up. sometime about what you said during lunch, how you looked at him during take four on stage eight. nothing important.

by the end of the second week, the two of you had started to appear in the evening routines of the other, not really noticing, not really caring.

--

monday morning, you had opened the door to your trailer and sound a coffee sitting on the step, making you halt in your steps abruptly. you looked down, then around to see if anyone was close by. nobody. taking a sip, you nodded to yourself. the order was right - exactly right. you turned the cup around search for a name, fully expecting it to be at least yours. what you did not expect however was-

WET CAT you felt you eye twitch, inhaling deeply as you turned toward the line of trailers. his door was closed. that, however, did not stop you from walking over and ripping is door open.

inside, jeongguk sat on the couch, script open on one knee and glasses pushing his long hair off his face. you held out the cup, voice eerie. "what is this, Parker."

his face stayed neutral, "coffee."

"and what, my dearest friend, does it say?"

he leaned forward as though he didn't know the answer, eyes squinting at the dark scribble on the side of the plastic cup. his mouth twitched, he tried to cover it with a cough. "oh."

"oh?"

he puts his script away, legs now crossed. "that, of course, is unfortunate."

"you did this," you bent down a bit, "I told you that in confidence!"

"can you prove that, though?"

you stepped inside fully now, closing the door behind you. his eyebrows rose as you set the coffee carefully on the counter. "you have five seconds."

he smiled innocently, head tilted. "for what, dearest friend?"

you copied his sweet smile. "to run."

"you wouldn't hit spider man." he tensed, legs spreading as he got ready to jump off the couch if necessary.

you reached for one of the stray extra scripts on the counter, rolling it together. jeongguk stood immediately, pupils blown. "wait."

"four."

he called your name, one hand stretched out in hopes to calm you.

"three."

he started laughing before you even threw it. and somewhere outside, a production assistant passed jeongguks trailer, heard the cushion hit something followed a high pitched scream, heard you call his name in a voice considerably louder than the one you used during your first week, heard jeongguk laughing hard enough to make whatever defense he was attempting completely useless-

-and kept walking.

nobody questioned it anymore.

--

the coffee incident, as it would go down in history by that name, unfortunately, did not teach jeongguk anything. if anything, it seemed to encourage him.

two days later, you found a packet of gummy worms balanced on top of your script with FOR THE CAT written across the plastic with black marker. Friday brought a bottle of water with whiskers drawn around your name. by the following Monday, Claire had somehow become involved, meaning you walked into hair and makeup at six-thirty in the morning to find a pair of cheap black cat ears resting neatly on your chair.

you stopped in the doorway. Claire kept her eyes suspiciously focused on the brushes she was cleaning. jeongguk sat two chairs over, face almost hidden behind the pages of his script. nobody spoke, making your eyes narrow. "you guys are fucking horrible."

Claire broke first, with jeongguk following perhaps half a second later, lowering the script as laughter shook through his shoulder, his mouth wide open and eyes barely open to look at your deadpan expression. you had barely finished dropping your bag before snatching the ears from the chair and throwing then in his direction; his hand came up easily enough o catch them before they hit his face [sadly.].

you huff. "good reflexes."

"thank you." he didn't waste time to put the ears on. that hadn't be the response you expected.

you stared at him and he stared right back through the mirror, entirely too pleased with himself as Claire reached around the plastic headband to continue working on his hair.

you spoke before you had the chance to think about it. "take them off."

"why?" "they're mine." "you threw them at me?" "was attacking you, actually."

"and now they're mine." there was no point arguing with him before seven in the morning, you had learned this much already. instead, you took your seat as the ears remained on his head until wardrobe came to collect him twenty minutes later.

--

it wasn't until the third week that you started seeing each other outside of work. again, nobody had really planned it.

there had been no careful exchange of we should hang out sometime, followed by several days finding a date that worked around filming. the production simply wrapped earlier than expected one evening, and the two of you stood beside the trailers looking vaguely confused by the sight of daylight. you checked your phone. five-thirty-two.

you made a face. "that is disgusting."

jeongguk looked over while pulling over his hoodie. "huh?"

your hand rose ahead. "it is still bright."

"usually is at five."

"not for us."

he laughed, pushing his glasses higher onto his nose. somebody from costume walked past with the upper half of the spider man suit hanging inside a garment bag and you instinctively stepped aside to give them room. there was something strange about finishing early. neither of you seems to know what to do with the extra hours that had suddenly been returned.

you glanced towards the parking area. "what are you doin'?"

jeongguk shrugged. "gym."

you stared at him, "you literally wrestled a man in spandex just a few hours ago."

"that's not the gym." "your body doesn't know that." "mine does." "psychopath."

he smiled, the expression disappearing briefly when he checked his phone. "you?"

you didn't have an answer ready. normally, you went back to the hotel, showered, ordered something, and read whatever pages had been sent for the next day. mostly ignored at least one messages asking whether you wanted to go somewhere, then slept embarrassingly early whenever production allowed it. "suppose I'll go home."

"that's depressing."

your jaw dropped, "you just said you're going to the gym."

"that is productive."

you opened your mouth to counter, though closed it right after as you could not think of anything to throw at him. jeongguk waited, shit eating grin inviting you to smack him across the head.

"whatever." you shrugged off.

"so, you don't have anything." "you don't know my life." "tell me then."

you didn't. instead, you adjusted the strap of your bag and started walking towards the lot.

jeongguk fell into step beside you. "come eat." you looked at him. he said it so casually that it took a moment for the invitation to settle properly.

"now?" "that's normally when people eat." "you're very annoying today." "you keep saying that and still spend all day with me."

your mouth opened again - nothing. jeongguk glanced sideways, visibly pleased with whatever conclusion he had reached. you pushed his shoulder, "where?"

the place he chose was almost aggressively ordinary. no rooftop restaurant hidden above the city, no industry plan with dim lighting and tables spaced far enough apart that nobody could overhear you. it was a small Korean restaurant wedged between a pharmacy and a laundromat, the windows fogged slightly from eh heat inside and menus laminated badly enough that one corner of yours had already started peeling away.

you loved it instantly, which jeongguk seemed to notice. "good?"

you nodded, reading through the menu. "very."

"you haven't eaten yet." "the vibes tell me that they make a mean japchae." "the vibes?" "important." he hummed, accepting this.

outside the studio, he somehow looked younger. not because anything about his face had changed. maybe because there was no Peter around him anymore, no wardrobe assistant checking his sleeves, no camera waiting for his mark, no one calling him Parker from across a soundstage. just jeongguk in a dark hoodie with his glasses slipping down his nose as he read through the menu he'd probably already memorized.

you realized then that you had actually never spent time alone with him without work sitting somewhere within reach. lunch didn't count, neither did your trailer sessions. even the nights outside stage twelve with fries between you had existed beneath the knowledge that somebody would eventually call you back inside. here, nobody needed you anywhere. the thought made you strangely nervous. perhaps he noticed, perhaps not.

jeongguk merely set the menu down and poured you water before filling his own glass. "how long have you been acting?"

you blinked. "that's what you want to ask?" "yeah." "you could google that." "I did."

your eyebrows rose and you couldn't hold back the snort as he froze for half a second. "not- not like that."

the laugh finally slipped past your lips. "like what?" "I looked you up before chemistry read." "you researched me?" "anyone researches who they're working with."

“I didn’t.” his face fell just enough to make you laugh harder. “I’m joking. I did.”

he straightened his spine. “see?”

“but I didn’t watch interviews.” you think back when you searched his name on google. two series here, a few small movies there. respectable work.

he cleared his throat. “I watched one.”

“oh?”

“maybe three.” your smile widened. jeongguk looked down at the table, rubbing the back of his neck, "I wanted to know what you were like."

something about he confession made you quieter. you swallowed and shifted in your seat, hands warming up. "and?"

"and what?"

“what am I like?”

he looked at you properly then. not in the quick way he’d become accustomed to looking at you on set, checking whether you’d understood a joke or caught whatever he was silently trying to communicate during a take. his attention stayed long enough that you suddenly became aware of your hands resting on the table. “quieter.”

you frowned. "than the interviews?"

"than I expected."

"like, bad?" you didn't understand why something in your stomach dropped.

"no." the answer came too easily for you to doubt it. jeongguk leaned back, fingers settling around his glass. "I thought maybe you wouldn't like me."

your face softened before you could control it. "why?"

“you barely spoke to me during the chemistry test.” he looked around the small restaurant, "kinda disappeared on me right after."

“I was nervous.”

his eyes shot back to you. “you?”

“why does everyone react like that?” you couldn't help but feel offended, hands placed on your lap underneath the table.

“because you’ve been doing this forever.”

you scoffed lightly. “that’s exactly why.”

he didn’t understand. you could see it. so, for once, you tried to explain “when you’re a kid, people expect you to be nervous. they help you, you know? they tell you where to stand, they tell you it’s okay if you don’t get something. then you grow up and suddenly everybody assumes that because you’ve done it for years, you don’t get scared anymore.” jeongguk stayed quiet. you traced the condensation running down your glass. “I still do.”

"first days."

your eyes lifted at the familiar words. especially if I want to do well. your smile came slower this time. "first days."

he nodded, and because jeongguk was somehow good at knowing when something had reached its natural end, he didn't push. instead, he waved down a young waiter, ordered your food in Korean and let your conversation drift elsewhere.

--

this became a problem. not the dinner itself. the fact that there was a second one, then a third.

sometimes food after work, sometimes coffee before either of you had to be on set, once a late trip to a convenience store because Reader had mentioned wanting ice cream and jeongguk had apparently taken that as an emergency requiring immediate intervention. the studio still remained the centre of everything. it was simply no longer the only place where you knew each other.

jeongguk learned about your family in fragments rather than one grand conversation. names came first, then stories, then the odd photograph shoved beneath his nose because you needed him to understand exactly what your mother looked like when she was angry. you learned that he called his own mother more often than he admitted. that he hated people worrying about him despite being particularly talented at giving them reasons to. that he had wanted to act before he’d been brave enough to say it out loud. that the first rejection had bothered him considerably more than the tenth. you talked about childhood fame once.

only once. it was late and you were both tired enough that the truth seemed less embarrassing.

“do you ever feel like people know you already?” jeongguk’s question came from beside you.

you sat in the backseat of the car production had sent, shoulder pressed against the window while the city moved past outside. “all the time.”

“does it annoy you?”

you thought. “not annoy.”

“what then?”

“I don’t know.” your eyes stayed on the lights outside. “sometimes I meet someone and they’ve watched me grow up. they know what I looked like when I was eight, what my voice sounded like at twelve, which movie I cried in at sixteen. and I know nothing about them.”

jeongguk didn’t answer immediately. “that’s weird.”

“yeah.”

“do you wish you hadn’t done it?”

this time, the answer came quickly. “no.”

he looked towards you, you just shrugged, sinking a little further into the seat. "I love my job. doesn't mean every part has to be easy."

that seemed to settle something. "fair."

there was something comforting about the fact that he didn't pry any more, granting you the opportunity to shift the weight of your conversation onto other days, in portions you could digest.

--

the kiss came from jeongguk. or, well, the idea did. you were not present when it happened - that fact would later feel vaguely unfair.

the scene had been discussed for several days already: Peter arriving at Gwen's fore escape after stopping a robbery a few blocks away, his suit soaked from the rain, mask still on as he he had not meant to stay. gwen would know anyway. there would be a short conversation, something quiet before he disappeared again.

originally, that was all. then jeongguk looked at the storyboard - really looked. "can he be upside down?"

the director glanced over. "for the conversation?"

"maybe." jeongguk tired the page around, finger marking the rough position of Peter beside the fire escape. "we already have the rig. of he comes down here instead-" the sound coordinator leaned closer, jeongguk continued, increasingly convinced by his own idea "-it'd be cool."

"that is your argument?"

"ve-very strong argument!"

the director laughed, "and gwen does what?"

jeongguk looked back at the storyboard, his finger moved - stopped. "...kisses him." silence. one of the producers looked over from the other side of the table.

jeongguk wet his lips. "not like a big kiss." that didn't help.

"peter is hanging upside down outside her apartment in the rain and gwen kisses him."

he nodded, breathless even though he was sitting. "yeah."

"you've seen spider man before, right?"

his smile widened, "exactly."

you only found out hours later, which, again, was unfair. you had been sitting in your trailer trying to remove a knot from one of Gwen's necklaces when somebody knocked once and entered before you could answer.

jeongguk, of course. you didn't bother looking up. "you knock like you pay rent."

"i have news." he sat down beside you, too close to be normal considering the amount of empty couch available. his knee brushed against yours, warmth curling around you. you continued fighting the necklace. "we changed Friday."

"what changed?" the tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lip.

"fire escape." "mhm." "i'm- peter's upside down. now."

your fingers stopped and you looked over, lips pursed. "why?" and when jeongguk only smiled at you, you instantly understood. "what did you do?"

he raised a shoulder, fighting off a grin. "I just suggested something."

"what?"

his expression changed into something innocent as he exaggerated the pout of his lip and slightly turned his body away. "the- the kiss."

your lips parted as you stared at him. he stared right back. the chain slipped from your clammy fingers. "huh? what kiss?"

"ours." the word landed horribly. your brain, traitorous thing it was, heard ours several seconds before remembering the far more reasonable interpretation. the film - gwen, Peter, acting.

you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat, you knee brushing against his sending a shiver down your spine. "there is no kiss in this."

"there is now!" "why?" "'cause it looks good."

your mouth opened, jeongguk seemed almost amused by whatever was happening to your face. "you're upside down?"

"yeah," he breathed out, "jus' like the good old times."

"and 'm supposed to kiss you?" "yeah."

you blinked once. then again. he raised an eyebrow. "you're an actress."

your hand slapped his thigh before you could stop it. "fuck off."

his laughter filled your trailer, and you decide to pick up the fallen necklace. at least it was a good excuse to not look at him. "I just meant that you have kissed people on camera before!"

yeah, you had. even more; break-ups, marriages, love confessions, and so much more than an tiny weeny kiss between two teenagers. "well," you tried to save yourself, "not people hanging from ceiling!"

"technically," he pointed a finger up, "I'll be hanging from a wire."

"oh! thank god! completely normal then." jeongguk laughed harder at your deadpan expression, bending sideways to lay down on the empty space of your couch.

your face felt warm, annoyingly warm. this is all so stupid, not understanding why you had such strong reaction to a little change. jeongguk was your friend. Peter liked gwen, gwen liked Peter. it was just a kiss between them. simple.

behind you, the laughter slowly quietened. "you don't have to." you watched him get up, "I can jus' tell 'em that we don't want to do that."

you shifted, the change in his tone caught you. he wasn't smiling anymore, and something inside you immediately switched. "no, I like it."

"you sure?"

you get up and place the necklace onto the tiny desk in front of the couch. "'m just giving you shit. that is iconic, y'know?"

jeongguks grin returned immediately, "see?"

not in the mood for his teasing, you rolled your eyes and kicked your shoe against his, "leave, Parker."

he did, though not after giving you one last shit eating grin as he closed the door behind himself. you waited for a second longer before exhaling deeply. "...fuck."

----

Friday had sounded very far away when jeongguk told you about the kiss. it was considerably less far away the following morning when you walked onto stage fourteen and found him hanging upside down six feet above a crash mat. you stopped.

he turned his head - or tried to, considering gravity had already pulled most of his thick hair toward the floor. "mornin'."

you greeted him back and placed your hands on your hips. one of the coordinators laughed from beside the rig while adjusting something on the control panel. jeongguk had been fittet into the harness beneath the suit already, suspended low enough that his shoulders were roughly level with yours, though apparently nobody had considered what gravity would do to the rest of him.

his cheeks looked different. you stepped closer, jeongguk just watched you. then, you did the worst possible thing - you laughed. not politely either, your hand flew to your mouth as he stared at you in betrayal. "what?"

"you look-" you couldn't finish.

"what?" another laugh escaped, and jeongguk tried to lift himself slightly against the harness as though dignity might be somewhere above him.

"you look so, like, weird?" "I'm literally spider man." "it looks like all your blood is in your forehead." "that because it is." that only made it worse.

"can we lower him?" you asked through laughter, "he's dying. looks purple."

the coordinator glanced between you two, nodding at your observation. "he's a little purple."

eventually, they lowered him, though only enough that his head hovered several inches above the mat. jeongguk reached toward the mask.

"don't touch it," wardrobe called immediately, pulling a sigh from his lips.

You crouched down instead, suddenly face-to-face with him again. That was a mistake. Your smile faded by degrees. This was roughly where you would have to stand, maybe closer. The thought arrived without invitation.

jeongguk seemed to reach the same conclusion because his eyes moved briefly - not dramatically, barely enough to qualify - from yours toward your mouth, then back. neither said anything. someone behind you started explaining the blocking. you stood quickly, like the professional you were. yeah, professional. Completely professional.

“Okay,” you said, smoothing your hands over your trousers. “So how exactly are we doing this?”

“Well,” the coordinator began, “first we need to see where you naturally reach.”

jeongguk smiled upside down. You immediately pointed at him. "behave."

you stared at him for a second longer. he stared back, upside down and visibly trying to look normal about the fact that the two of you were expected to kiss in less than forty-eight hours.

it was almost comforting. almost.

someone from the behind-the-scenes team stood a few metres away with a camera already rolling. you hadn’t noticed until she stepped closer, grinning as she pointed it at jeongguk. “so, how are you feeling about the scene?”

his entire expression changed, not dramatically, but enough. he smiled, then looked away, then back again. "excited."

you snorted, turning your head to crew, "can someone please get him down?" the camera swung to you.

"i am good." jeongguk protested, not yet wanting to let go of his dream, "'m jus'-" he paused.

you lifted an eyebrow. "just what?"

he shfited in his harness, "excited." the camera moved closer to him. jeongguk looked at it then, his smile turning easier when he had something safer to talk about. "t's just cool, y'know? I watched that scene when I was really young. like, everybody did. and now I get my own version of it." his voice warmed as he said it, something al sot boyish slipping through without making him look childish. it was simply there, underneath it all.

"that's crazy." you smiled despite yourself.

he kept going, gesturing with one hand even though he was still upside down. "like, I remember thinking it was the coolest thing ever. the rain, the mash, the way he was hanging there. and now, I'm the one handing here."

"poorly."

he turned his head to you, badly parroting what you had just said. then, he earned a jab against his side, making him groan. he stared at you, though just returned it with a sweet smile. he sighed, "cut this part."

"never."

they started with positioning. that should have been easy. it was not. you stood beneath him while the stunt coordinator explained where he would be lowered, where the camera would sit, where your feet needed to stop. nothing about it was especially complicated until somebody said, “okay, now find where your hands naturally go.”

you froze. jeongguk froze too.

there was a beat of silence. the coordinator looked between you. “guys.”

“yeah.” jeongguk cleared his throat. “yeah, sure.”

you stepped closer. too close. or maybe exactly as close as you were meant to be. that was somehow worse. his face was directly in front of yours now, inverted, his hair hanging toward the ground beneath the edge of the mask. you could see the tiny crease beside his mouth from where the fabric had been pressed against his skin.

your hands hovered uselessly. “where?”

“where what?” jeongguk asked.

“my hands.”

“how would i know?”

“you came up with this.”

“i came up with the kiss, not your hands.” you stared.

he immediately regretted the wording. “not- i mean, i didn’t mean-” your mouth opened. he closed his eyes. “fuck.”

you laughed before you could stop yourself, taking a step back. “oh my god.”

“i know.”

“you are so bad at this.”

“i’m upside down!”

“that’s not an excuse.”

“it kind of is.”

the coordinator rubbed his forehead. “can we just try shoulders first?”

you nodded.

jeongguk nodded too, still upside down. you stepped back in and placed your hands carefully against his shoulders.

wrong.

camera couldn’t see enough. one hand moved to his jaw instead - too stiff. you tried the other side, somebody adjusted you by three inches. jeongguk shifted. your forehead nearly hit his chin. you both pulled away.

“okay,” you muttered, “this is incredibly sexy.”

jeongguk’s laugh came out strangled. “shut up.”

the actual kiss was not rehearsed. not fully. that had been your decision.

the director had asked whether you wanted to block the motion once before shooting and you had answered no quickly enough for jeongguk to glance at you. you refused to look back. there was absolutely no need. you knew how to kiss someone. he knew how to kiss someone. this was ridiculous.

the first take proved otherwise. rain fell from the rig in a perfect sheet, soaking the fire escape and darkening the shoulders of Gwen’s coat almost immediately. Peter came down from above, suspended exactly where they had planned it, body turning slightly until he was facing you upside down.

the camera moved in. you stepped forward, lifted the mask. and bonked your nose against his.

“cut.” there was silence.

then jeongguk burst out laughing. you closed your eyes. “don’t.”

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t.”

“i didn’t know where your nose was going.”

“where did you think it was going?”

“i don’t know!”

you stepped away while makeup rushed in to fix the rain running beneath your eyes. jeongguk was still laughing, shoulders shaking in the harness. “this was your idea.”

“i know.”

“and you can’t even do it.”

“again.”

“you sound too excited.”

“because i got it now.”

“you absolutely do not.”

he did not have it. take two lasted longer. this time the positioning worked, but jeongguk forgot to stop talking.

not in character. literally. you had pulled the mask up, hands placed correctly, your face already close enough to his that you could feel his breath against your mouth when he suddenly whispered, “wait.”

you pulled back. “what?”

“which way are you going?”

you stared. “what do you mean which way am i going?”

“like- left or right?”

“jeongguk.”

“i don’t wanna hit you again.”

“we’re already rolling.”

his eyes widened beneath the mask. “oh.”

“cut!”

you walked away. the crew laughed. jeongguk remained suspended behind you, mortified. “i was being responsible!”

take three got ruined by the rain, and take four by the mask slipping too far. take five by you, you had no defense for that one.

Peter came down slowly, as gwen stepped closer, careful, hesitant. she lifted the mask and the second she saw his mouth, actually saw it, you only blinked once. you forgot your line. nothing profound happened, no lighting, no great realization - your brain simply, well, stopped. jeongguk waited, still upside down as you stared at him. he stared right back, at least you guessed he did under the mask.

"cut!" you blinked once more, stepping back.

a grin immediately graced his lips, "now who's bad at this?"

you pointed at him, "say one more word." he only laughed.

though by take six, neither of you laughed. maybe because everybody else had stopped making jokes, maybe because the novel had worn down enough for the scene to become work again. or maybe because the two of you were tired of messing it up.

the rain started as Peter slowly dropped into frame. gwen waited, he slowly stopped in front of her. "you came back." his voice was softer now.

she looked up at him. “you always do.”

he did not answer. that was not the line, it worked anyway. she stepped forward, her fingers caught the edge of his mask and pulled it upward slowly, enough to reveal his mouth, his nose, the sharp line of his jaw. the fabric resisted slightly from the rain, sticking to his skin.

she laughed under her breath. Peter smiled at the soft sound of it.

she placed one hand against his cheek, the other rested carefully beneath his jaw. then you kissed him. softly at first. just enough to make contact, and for one small second, that was all it was. a scene; a shot, something the camera needed.

then jeongguk kissed you back, breathing you in as if he had been holding his breath the entire time, as if he finally was granted the opportunity to do so.

not dramatically, not enough for anybody to call it improvisation. just a natural response, his mouth moving against yours in the same quiet way Peter’s would have. your fingers tightened slightly. his breath caught. or yours did, you weren’t sure.

the rain continued falling around you, louder than you had expected it to be this close, tapping against metal and fabric and the floor beneath your feet.

you kissed him once more, then pulled away.

“cut.” neither moved, not immediately. someone called something from behind camera., you couldn't hear it.

jeongguk was still hanging there, his mouth parted slightly as he breathed. "did we get it?" his voice is barely above a whisper.

you stared at him, laugh escaping before you could stop it. the director called back, "yeah, we got it."

jeongguk smiled at that, still upside down and still looking as ridiculous as ever. your hand was still resting against his face, you pulled it away before it would be weird. "good."

"yeah, good."

they did four more takes - of course they did.

wide shot. close-up. another angle. one where your hand lifted the mask. one where the rain hit differently. by the end of it, the kiss had become almost mechanical again. almost.

that was easier. you knew where to stand now. he knew which way to tilt his head. you stopped bumping noses. the crew stopped laughing. the whole thing became something that could eventually be cut into fifteen perfect seconds. that was filmmaking. two hours of work for something people would watch once and immediately replay.

the behind-the-scenes camera found jeongguk immediately after they lowered him. he was still in the suit, hair wet and pushed badly away from his face while somebody loosened the harness beneath the fabric.“so?”

he looked at the camera. "so what?"

"iconic moment, yeah?"

he smiled, then looked away, watching how you walked off to the side to wrap a fluffy blanket around yourself immediately, shoulders shivering. he looked back at the camera, rubbing his neck, "yeah, it was good- I- I mean it was, kinda weird?"

his gaze jumped back at you surrounded by makeup working beneath your eyes. the person behind the camera dug deeper, "why?"

"because I watched stuff like that when I was a kid. and now I just..." his hand moved vaguely, "...did it." the person behind the camera laughed and mentioned that he had done so with you as his partner.

his ears went pink, even more so even after having spent the past few minutes hanging upside down. you watched him across the set, saw how he turned bashful and cleared his throat. "uhm, yeah."

"how was that?"

he stared into the lens, leaning closer until he almost bumped into it. "next question."

you laughed loudly enough that he heard you, his head snapped toward you in an instant. you gave him a thumbs-up and he couldn't help but just shook his head.

---

the strange part was that nothing really changed after - not immediately. you still ate together. he still came into your trailer without waiting for permission. you still stole his hoodies when wardrobe made you cold and he still complained about it despite never asking for them back. you still sat beside each other during breaks, shoulders occasionally touching because neither of you cared enough to move.

except now, sometimes, you noticed. that was all. his hand brushing yours when reaching for the same bottle. noticed. his knee pressing against yours beneath a table. noticed. him leaning over your shoulder to read something on your phone. noticed.

annoying. very annoying.

jeongguk was no better. he discovered this on a tuesday afternoon when you leaned into him during a playback because there was not enough room around the monitor. your shoulder pressed against his chest. normal. happened before. then you laughed at something on screen and turned your head slightly.

his eyes dropped to your mouth, for absolutely no reason. he looked away so quickly that the stunt coordinator beside him asked whether he was okay. “yeah.”

you glanced up. “what happened?”

“nothing.”

you narrowed your eyes. “you look weird.”

“i’m fine.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.” you shrugged and turned back toward the monitor, jeongguk exhaled quietly. this was stupid.

filming continued and that was perhaps the easiest part. there was always something else waiting - another costume, another scene, another call time.

one morning Peter and Gwen were fighting. that afternoon they were meeting for the first time. two days later you filmed a scene where Gwen already knew his identity, followed immediately by one where Peter was still lying to her face.

the movie kept moving, so did you.

and whatever had happened beneath the rain rig was easy enough to tuck somewhere between scenes. well, most of the time.

weeks later, the behind-the-scenes team asked the two of you to watch the footage back. you sat beside jeongguk in front of a small monitor, shoulder pressed against his while somebody loaded the clip.

“this is the kiss.”

you immediately looked at him. “why?”

“for reactions.”

“no.”

jeongguk laughed. “c’mon.”

“i was there.”

“me too.”

“then why do we need to watch it?”

“because it’s cool.”

“you’re so annoying.”

the footage played anyway. Peter dropped into frame. Gwen stepped toward him. you watched yourself lift the mask. beside you, jeongguk went strangely quiet. the kiss happened.

on screen, it looked nothing like how it had felt; clean, easy, romantic, and only fifteen seconds.

you blinked. “oh.”

jeongguk looked over. “what?”

you kept staring at the screen. “that actually looks really good.”

his smile came slowly. “told you.”

you turned. “don’t.”

“my idea.”

“yes, jeongguk.”

“iconic.” you rolled your eyes. “iconic.” he looked far too pleased with himself.

the crew member behind camera laughed. “so, who kissed who better?”

you both froze, then spoke at the same time. “next question.”

the room erupted.

you covered your face. jeongguk bent forward laughing. and that was probably how people would remember it later.

the laughter. the rain. the footage. the chemistry everyone would eventually analyze frame by frame.

not the quiet moments between takes. not the coffees, not the late dinners. not the way he knew when you needed silence. not the way you started moving your bag before he even reached the table.

those belonged to the two of you. for now, that was enough.

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