Archive of Our Own ^beta

Let it be known that June has always been Peter’s favourite month. He didn't really remember how it was with his parents, but he’d always remember what it was like with his aunt and uncle. May was the proudest, loudest, and most outgoing person that Peter had ever known. She’d always made him feel comfortable with his gender, later figuring out his own bisexuality and going crying to her only for her to tut and ask in the calmest voice, “Do you want my spare flag?” He remembered how Ben used to support her as best he could, overwhelmed by half the events she’d wanted to attend but still managing to go. June had always been his favourite month because it was when May would take him out to the store, letting him skip school for the day if he wanted, and buy as many rainbow things as she possibly could. There was a strict budget, but she had always made it work. Every June would then be spent putting up all the decorations in and out of the apartment. Ben would come back from work and sigh, pretending to roll his eyes as he gave May a kiss and ruffled Peter’s hair, yet every year, as far back as Peter could remember, he'd'realize'’ that he’d forgotten to give them something, and he’d pull out a pride cupcake for both of them. Peter nearly sobbed when, after he came out as Bi, May had bought a cupcake that matched what Ben used to get her: plain vanilla with a simple Bi flag on top.

All of that to say that Peter loved June. Even after Ben’s death, he and May still made sure to decorate, just without the cupcakes at the end. Instead, May would make pasta, and she’d talk about her childhood best friend, whom she only realised she had a crush on years after they’d drifted apart, and Peter would go on about MJ and how wonderful she was. The decorations would stay up all June and most of July, then get slowly packed away or given away with hushed reassurances by May at FEAST.

It was a Saturday, which Peter was infinitely grateful for. He’d had this day planned since he became a permanent member of the Wayne household. Now that he wasn’t using all the money he made at various odd jobs to pay for food and housing, and he had a stable roof over his head, he knew he could afford to uphold a tradition. He really didn’t want to think about how this was the first June that he wouldn’t have May to celebrate with.

So here he was, instead, sitting at the dining room table as more Waynes than usual were eating breakfast. He had cereal in front of him, but it had long since gotten soggy as he was just staring at it, doing math he’d already confirmed a million times in his head. He was going to the mall to try to find any pre-done pride stuff or just any rainbow things in general, and if he found nothing (because this is Gotham, everyone could be mega homophobic or something), he’d go to the craft store to find wool, felt, or fat quarters and make his own. He liked to think he had an affinity with crafts like that ever since the bite—not that he liked to dwell too long on the meaning of it.

“Hey. Earth to Peter.” He looked up at the sound of Tim’s voice. (What was he doing up so early on a Saturday?) and noticed that most of the table was staring at him with various levels of concern and amusement on their faces. “What did the cereal do to you?” He blinks owlishly.

“Um, nothing?” He gets an eye roll from Tim.

“What Tim was trying to ask is: what’s on your mind?” Dick glared with no real heat; he shrugged.

“I'm working out how much money I’ve got.” That earned him a surprised and slightly concerned look.

“Why’s that?” Peter ignored the way his voice went up at the end, an indication slight alarm. Sure, he was flighty at first, but that didn't mean he was just going to run away.

"I want to get stuff." He rolled his eyes, eating another spoonful of the soggy cereal before pushing it away, disgust etched on his features.

"Just take Bruce's card." He paused at Steph's voice, electing to ignore the 'advice' for now. What was she doing there? Did she stay after patrol? No, she wasn't on patrol last night. Why was she sitting so close to Cass? Was he missing something here?

"Dude, Earth to Peter, again." He didn't flinch at Tim's hand waving in front of his face only because his spider-sense didn't go off.

"Uh," He tried to think of a valid excuse for not using his billionare gardian's card: "No. I have my own money." The budget was always a huge part of shopping for June. MAy always managed to make it less sad than it probably was, getting Peter to try to get as many itens as he could for as little as he could, like a game. A game may always let him win. He wiped his face to stop the tears from forming before the others noticed.

There was an awkward silence where Peter pushed the cheerios around in his bowl and took note of who was at the table. Bruce, Dick (who he knew was staying over), Cass, Tim (yeah, still, why the hell is he awake so early), and Steph (what is she doing in the manor this early??) – Duke must still be asleep or left already, and Damian was probably feeding his pets. He was snapped out of it by Cass’s curious voice.

“What are you getting, Peter?” He paused, not looking up. He knew, logically, that the Waynes had no issue with queer people; they knew he was trans after a very awkward experience of him walking into the women’s changing rooms out of habit and then having to explain himself very awkwardly. He also knew that at least Dick was queer himself; Peter never wanted to remember what exactly he’d seen when he walked into the den without knocking and saw Dick and a redhead who’d been introduced as Wally. Peter had to stare at his soggy cereal for a long moment before he decided he might as well tell them.

“Just rainbow stuff. My aunt and I used to always do it.” He didn’t look up, not wanting to see the reactions. Everyone at the table knew that his aunt had raised him and that he’d only lost her recently. “I was going to go to the mall, and if there wasn’t anything premade, I was going to get some felt or yarn or something.” He ate yet another spoonful of the mush that was in his bowl and made such a face that he got a startled laugh from Dick.

“That’s sweet; is it for pride?” He nodded, finally looking up and seeing that Cass and Steph were signing something that he couldn’t quite make out from where he was sitting; Bruce was'subtly’ watching him from behind the newspaper despite that being useless due to his spider sense mumbling *watching* in the back of his mind; Tim was much like Dick and not bothering to hide his watching. There was a long moment of awkward silence, and Peter debated just leaving, but he didn’t want to seem rude, so he sat through it.

“Uh, Bruce? I can tell you’re watching; my spider sense is giving me a headache, so I’d appreciate you not pretending not to.” He stumbled over his words, earring, and eyebrow raise from Bruce, which had him seriously wanting to just leave. Okay, yeah, maybe Dick’s concern that he was going to run away again was slightly called for.

“Your spider-sense told you I was watching you.”

“Mhm, it’s like a murmur in the back of my mind that’s just ‘watching, watching, watching.’ over and over again; it’s really annoying.” Bruce hummed and went back to actually reading the paper. While they were talking, Cass and Steph had stopped signing.

“Peter!” He looked at Steph and said, “Can Cass and I come with? We want to get pride stuff too.” He paused. Did he want them to come with him? It wasn’t like he had to do it alone; after all, it had always been him and May, but did that mean he wanted other people around? He knew he’d probably get stuck in his head if he went by himself, be distracted, and maybe get mugged. That didn’t sound too fun, but Steph could be loud sometimes, and did he need that? Did he really want someone who reminded him so much of his aunt? He took a breath and thought about it properly. Logically, he should probably say yes; if it got too overwhelming, neither of the girls would mind if he escaped for a bit, and if he said no and got too lost in his own mind, he couldn’t just call them up. He ended up shrugging.

“If you want.” He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, not really wanting them to know he’d just had a very long-winded discussion with himself about it. Cass shifted, and Peter could read that she was very happy with his answer. Steph’s grin was a lot more subtle.

“Could I come?” Tim’s voice surprised him, and he shrugged again, looking at him.

"Yeah, I don’t mind. It’s not the most exciting thing.” It used to be. It used to be his favourite thing, but May wasn’t going to be with him this year, and he didn’t know how that’d affect it. He saw Dick shift in the corner of his vision, and he rolled his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t ask directly, not wanting to intrude on something that was between Peter and his aunt (Dick had stated many times before that he wasn’t trying to replace his aunt or his parents), but he clearly wanted to go, especially now that Tim, Cass, and Steph were going too. “You can come, Dick; I don’t mind.” He got a smile from that, which pushed away a little of the grief that was threatening to eat him whole.

“When do you want to go?” He checked the time on his phone: 8:38. “Um, anytime after 9 is good. I want to get something to eat before we leave.” He looks pointedly at the soggy bowl of cereal and gets a snort from Steph.

***

When Peter had let the others come, he really hadn’t been expecting to enjoy himself as much as he did. It turns out there was plenty of pride stuff at random shops in the mall; it just happened to be sold by scary women with pixie cuts and guns barely hidden at their hips. Peter still went and bought yarn and a new set of crochet hooks too (only because Dick had seen him eying them, and if he hadn’t gotten them himself, he knew Dick would’ve found a way to buy them without him realising until it was too late). Partway through, Steph had dragged them all to one of the food stands and managed to trick Peter into letting her pay for it (read: use Bruce’s card). The food was good, though, so he wouldn't complain.

By the end, he’d managed a haul that would’ve made May proud, not including the stuff the others had. Various full-sized and mini-flags, posters, bracelets, and other rainbow stuff. They looked like a bunch of lunatics, going to the checkouts of stores with carts of pride merchandise, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to care. The entire day had felt almost normal in an unreal way.

When they got back to the manor, they all headed to the den to sort through the haul. This mostly meant they dumped everything on the floor and promptly realised they were far too exhausted to actually sort through the stuff, so they shoved it back into the bags and instead started Mario Cart. Cass was beating their asses, and Peter was enjoying watching from where he was sitting on a bean bag, crocheting a bicolored flower. He was going to make a bouquet, and he’d put it on his window sill for May.