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Jungkook closes his eyes as the nighttime breeze caresses the clammy, exposed skin just above his suit collar. He moves out of his squatted position, standing at his full height at the edge of the skyscraper. Taking a breath, he somersaults off, relishing in the adrenaline that shoots through his veins.
At the last minute, he shoots a web out from his wrist and it sticks to the side of an overpass nearby. He tugs on the web and pulls himself out of harm's way, fastening himself to the overpass with the pads of his fingers. He’s had these abilities for a little over a year now, and he doesn’t think he’ll be getting over the pure ecstasy of swinging through the city streets anytime soon.
Sometimes he wonders where he would be now if he hadn’t gotten that job at Oscorp. Probably nowhere good. He’d had rotten luck ever since he could remember. His uncle had called it the Jeon Luck more than once when Jungkook was young. He wouldn’t call himself a superstitious person, per se, but there had to be some truth to his uncle’s words. His parents died in a plane crash when he was six, and his aunt and uncle never had enough money to support this child thrusted upon them without warning.
For a while in his freshman year, things started looking up. It was obvious that Jungkook was smarter than all of his peers, more interested in robotics club than he was in sports or dating. Everyone thought he might have a promising future after all, might defy the low expectations that the Jeon Family was known for. Then his uncle died of a heart attack when Jungkook was sixteen.
The bills piled up on his aunt, and no one would hire him because of his lack of experience, so he got desperate. He started hanging out with really shady people, did a lot of things he wasn’t proud of to make money just so he could lessen the burden on his aunt’s shoulders.
He graduated high school early, both because he was smart enough to and because he was wasting his time staying in a building every day for six hours when he could be working. Any hope of making it out of Queens was quickly squashed. He had no money to go to college, and even if he got a scholarship he couldn’t leave his aunt to fend for herself.
After a few years, running suspicious packages and Ubering people in his uncle’s old car didn’t cut it anymore. Despite his better judgement, he borrowed some money from a man known only as Kingpin. No one knew his real name, but everyone knew that he was slowly taking charge of what went on at night in New York.
Jungkook knows that he was supposed to die the night that Kingpin’s men came after him after he was late paying back his debt. He had been staying out late every night trying to scrounge up the cash, and ended up traversing into the even dingier streets of Hell’s Kitchen. If Daredevil hadn’t been there…. he doesn’t even want to think about how his aunt would have reacted when his body inevitably turned up in the Hudson.
Or worse, if he never turned up at all.
He barely remembers what went down after Daredevil resuscitated him, just flashes of being carried in strong arms and the man’s soothing deep voice. The brief hospital stay at Metro General had been a wake up call.
When Jungkook got discharged from the hospital and his aunt gave him her usual bone crushing hug while scolding him routine, he knew that he needed to get his act together. So he looked up jobs that paid well in Queens for people with just a high school diploma, and the third result was for a cleaning position at Oscorp. It paid $20 an hour because it sometimes dealt with cleaning potentially hazardous chemicals and machinery. After a few interviews and signing very lengthy non-disclosure agreements for the experiments the company was undergoing, he had a job.
He can still remember the night he got bitten in vivid detail. He remembers the pouring rain that slammed against the pristine glass windows of the labs, the eerie silence of the building after closing, and how pissed off he was for losing rock paper scissors against his coworker and found friend Eric. They both had to clean the Insect and Reptiles Wing on the fourteenth floor, and neither of them wanted to bite the bullet and clean out the spiders’ cages. Jeon Luck struck again that night, and Jungkook found himself reaching into the cage with a full body cringe.
Sometimes he still gets phantom pains from the spider bite. It felt like liquid fire being injected into his bloodstream, and it was enough to make him lose consciousness for a good thirty seconds. The first thing he saw when he came to was Eric’s terrified expression hovering above him. He felt nauseous the rest of the night, and despite feeling incredibly guilty, he didn't argue when Eric made him sit down while he cleaned both the Insect and Reptiles Wings on his own.
The weeks that followed were a roller coaster of discovering and adapting to his new abilities. He created his suit and web shooters after months of prototypes and all-nighters studying everything he could find on other heroes. The name Spider-Man wasn't his idea. It was so lame and unoriginal, but he couldn't deny the fact that it made sense.
The wall crawling and swinging from webs wasn't exactly a tell for many other creatures, and he was bitten by a spider after all. So, he learned to embrace the title.
Suddenly, he was more than just Jungkook Jeon: a nobody that had faced unbridled hardships and seen more tragedy in his youth than a child should ever see. Now he is also Spider-man; he has children and adults alike looking to him for guidance and protection. He has purpose. It's a lot of responsibility, but it feels right.
It’s a slow night of patrol. He doesn’t mind, though, his bruised ribs from last night’s altercation with a group of would-be gang rapists could use a day to heal. He might heal faster than the average person now, but it isn’t instantaneous, and his suit doesn’t help much when it comes to protection. Luckily for him, he has reflexes fast enough to dodge the worst blows.
He keeps his eyes and ears peeled as he continues picking his way through Queens. Eventually, he determines that nothing is in need of his immediate attention, so he takes it upon himself to explore a little further past the boundaries of his home city. He lets his mind drift so he can enjoy the scenery that New York at night provides, and before he realizes it, he’s entered Hell’s Kitchen.
He hasn’t been back here since before he got his abilities. The city is different from Queens, heavier somehow. The people who live here are more cut throat, the buildings either very modern or extremely rundown, and the nights seem infinitely more scary.
It's possible that he feels this way only because of his bad experience here, but the slightly disturbed feeling settles over him nonetheless. Using his webs to get around doesn't feel right, so he sticks to crawling along the sides of buildings to navigate. It's unclear to him where he's going or what he's looking for.
He explores his surroundings for a short time, listening and looking for any danger. It appears that these streets are as exhausted of the usual crime as the ones back home. Jungkook is about to call it a night and head back home when he sees someone sitting on the rooftop of the building across from him. His eyes widen as he recognizes the person to be Hell's Kitchen’s designated vigilante: Daredevil.
His breath catches in his throat at the sight of the other vigilante. The man's figure is quite imposing, even though his body is cast in complete shadow. All that's visible is a silhouette of his crouched figure and his infamous horns. It's dark up here, would be pitch black if not for Jungkook’s heightened vision. How can Daredevil see anything? Does he have heightened vision too?
Trying to be as silent as possible, Jungkook crawls along the rooftop to get a closer look. For some reason, he's hesitant to make his presence known to Daredevil. Maybe it's because he isn't too sure how the other man will react to another vigilante encroaching on his territory. He crawls down the side of the building and soundlessly leaps onto the wall of the building Daredevil resides on. His heart races against his rib cage, but it isn't out of fear.
Just as he peaks over the edge of the rooftop, without even turning his head Daredevil deadpans, "I know you're there."
Jungkook yelps in surprise. His fingers suddenly forget how to stick to surfaces and he skids down the side of the building. He manages to save himself by shooting a web onto the ledge of the roof and hauling himself up with a firm tug. He lands in a crouching position.
"That was a nice attempt to sneak up on me, but I could hear your web shooters a mile away, Spider-Man." Daredevil's body is now turned towards him, and an amused smirk graces his lips. Jungkook feels his face burn underneath his mask.
Okay, so maybe he has a teeny tiny colossal crush on Daredevil. Could anyone blame him? The vigilante's voice is smoother than silk, the armor of his suit accentuates the muscles of his biceps and thighs, and Jungkook (for better or worse) knows the guy is a good kisser. He hasn't even seen the man's full face, but he just knows that underneath the helmet, Daredevil must be handsome.
When Daredevil tilts his head, Jungkook realizes he's been staring silently for a good minute. His face flushes even hotter, and he says the first thing that comes to his mind. "Were you expecting me, Horns?"
Fuck. Fuckity fuck God dammit way to make a good impression, he thinks to himself. Why does he always go into flirty mode when he's nervous? Did he just call Daredevil Horns? The other vigilante's amused smirk freezes. He stands to his full height and Jungkook does the same as he approaches slowly.
"Have we met before?" Daredevil asks carefully. The question sends alarm bells ringing in Jungkook's head.
Surely Daredevil doesn't recognize him from the alleyway all those months ago. How could he, Jungkook is wearing a mask now. There's no way.
"Only in your dreams," he replies. Somehow his voice remains steady.
Daredevil doesn't seem phased. "No, you seem very familiar." He takes another step towards Jungkook.
"Well, if you've ever watched the news you might've seen me there. I'm a pretty hot topic nowadays." Jungkook is about six seconds from abandoning this conversation entirely and swinging home without looking back. The red-tinted eye holes of Daredevil's mask seem to stare deep into his soul, which in retrospect is probably their purpose. He wonders what color Daredevil's real eyes are.
Luckily, Daredevil comes back to his senses and backs away. "Yeah, must be."
They continue to stare in silence for several moments. Jungkook shifts his feet, then decides to finally speak up when he realizes Daredevil won't be the one to break the tension. Damn, was he this intense last time, too? Maybe he was, and Jungkook was just too concussed to notice. He starts walking backwards to the edge of the roof.
"Well it was super nice meeting you for the first time ever, Horns. I'll see you around. Don't work too hard!" With that, Jungkook shoots a web at a street lamp and swings off. He can feel Daredevil's gaze on him even after he gets back to his apartment in Queens.
After his second encounter with Daredevil, Jungkook finds himself drawn towards Hell’s Kitchen more often. He has no reason for it, the city’s vigilante has the crime fighting covered in his area, and Jungkook himself has his own group of foes to protect Queens from. Yet every time he dons the Spider-Man mask, something in him beckons him to where Daredevil resides.
He never neglects the people of Queens to go on outer-city adventures, of course. He puts the responsibility of being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man first and foremost. Some nights petty crime is so high that he doesn’t even have time to visit Hell’s Kitchen. That’s okay, too. But when he has the chance, he never hesitates to cross into the city’s borders.
He doesn’t stay long enough for Daredevil to come looking for him. That rooftop encounter was mortifying enough for Jungkook to have his fill of one-on-one vigilante chats for a good month at least. His crush might be burning him up inside, but he’s no stranger to admiring people from afar. In a totally not-creepy way, he tells himself one day while watching a YouTube video of Daredevil stopping an attempted carjacking.
The footage is shaky and poorly lit, taken by a random civilian from the window of their apartment complex. It was obviously filmed on a cell phone, completely zoomed in to catch the vigilante’s figure as clearly as possible.
That video sticks to the forefront of his mind for the rest of the day. Even as he enters Hell’s Kitchen for the first time after an entire week of being too caught up in his own life, he thinks about how different his and Daredevil’s fighting styles are. Jungkook has no formal training in hand-to-hand combat. He knows only what his shadier years in the streets forced him to learn, so he prefers dodging and deflecting bad guys’ hits; is better at fighting back with his words than he is with his fists.
Meanwhile Daredevil thrives the most when he is roundhouse kicking a rapist in the face or when he is using classic boxing techniques against a gang member. It’s like the guy is a ninja and a professional athlete all rolled into one person. Jungkook thinks it’s hot.
The image of Daredevil going full on MMA fighter on one of the carjackers in the video brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. Once it finishes, he puts his phone away and stares at the sky, swaying his legs like he’s on a rope swing and not on the edge of an office building. The sun is just beginning to go down, bathing everything in golden-orange light, and after-work traffic is finally starting to thin out.
Jungkook likes watching the sunset here more than he does in Queens. He has no idea why, but there’s something intriguing about the in-between of just another busy day in Hell’s Kitchen and the suspenseful danger that nighttime brings.
He plans to go back home to patrol when the city is mostly bathed in shadow, but for now, he switches between watching the sky change colors and watching the civilians below him go about their evening. There’s a crosswalk by a four-way traffic signal directly below him, and one person waits for the go-ahead to walk in order to get to the street opposite of where Jungkook resides.
An automated voice declares, “Walk. Walk. Walk,” as the little pedestrian lights up on the crossing signal, and he watches the man begin to cross. The man is holding out a white cane in front of him, and Jungkook’s ears pick up the faint tap tap tap sound of it hitting the asphalt. The man is blind, Jungkook realizes.
He is halfway across the street when a car speeds through a red light, heading right towards him with seemingly no intention on stopping. People on the sidewalk cry out in horror as they see the car, some turn away and others stare frozen in expectation of the carnage about to ensue. But Jungkook is Spider-Man, so of course, he can’t let that happen.
In a split second, Jungkook shoots a web at a tall lamp post across the street. He leaps off the rooftop and swings low, wrapping an arm around the blind man’s waist and pulling him to safety on the sidewalk. The car blasts through the now unoccupied crosswalk and keeps driving, not at all phased by the almost head-on collision.
“What an asshole,” Jungkook says as he stares after the speeding car. Then he turns to the man standing before him. “Are you okay?”
The man’s hair is disheveled and his face is flushed. His deep brown eyes are wide as they stare just off to the side of Jungkook. This close, he notices that the man is way more good looking than he looked from a distance. Like, really good looking. Jungkook swears the guy had been wearing sunglasses….
A quick glance at the street reveals a shattered pair laying forlornly on the road, broken beyond repair after being run over by the car.
“Aw, man! Your glasses are totally ruined, I’m sorry!” Jungkook rushes to apologize. Then he realizes the man might not even realize what’s just happened to him. “Oh! I’m Spider-Man by the way. You almost got turned into a pancake by a car but I saved you so you are still your normal human self.”
The man tries to compose himself. His tight grip on his cane relaxes some, and he says in a slightly dazed voice, “It’s...fine. I’m fine. Thank you.”
Jungkook looks the man over to ensure that there are no obvious injuries that went unnoticed. He ignores the whispering and blatant awed staring from those around them watching the spectacle unfold. It comes with the territory of superheroing, after all.
“Glad to hear it! Still super sorry about your glasses, though. They’re all crushed on the road.” Why does Jungkook care so much about sunglasses all of a sudden? He saved the guy’s life, that's what matters. He should be on his way. But he wants to keep talking for some reason. This never happens with other people he saves.
It’s usually a straightforward routine of saving the civilian, making sure they’re okay, and moving on to the next person in need. And yet here he is, stalling. God damn him and his weakness for cute men. The man smiles kindly at Jungkook and tilts his head (why is that action so familiar), and his heart-shaped lips just make the vigilante’s heart race.
“Don’t worry about the glasses, I can always buy a new pair. Again.” The man responds, startling a laugh from Jungkook.
“You lose them often?”
“Yeah. My boyfriend keeps telling me I should stockpile a bunch of them because I lose or break them so much. This might just convince me to listen to him.”
Jungkook doesn’t freeze, doesn’t recoil, doesn’t react negatively in any way at the man’s admission that he’s in a relationship. His heart doesn’t at all break knowing that the man has a boyfriend because they just met and he’s wearing his Spider-Man suit anyway so it’s not like he could hit on the guy. He just laughs a little bit forcibly and runs a hand over the back of his mask.
“Yeah that sounds like a good idea. Well, if you’re not hurt I should probably run. People to save and all.”
“I can imagine,” The man replies with a laugh in his voice. One side of his lips quirks up in a concealed grin.
“Do you need any help getting to where you’re going?” Jungkook asks.
“No, I can manage. Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man.”
“All in a day’s work! See you around!” Jungkook says and then tries to look cool by shooting a web at a nearby billboard sign and swinging off.
The gasps and cheers of people below him bring a grin to his face as he zips past them. He makes it all the way to Queens before he realizes that he just told a blind man ‘see you around.’
Yeah. That’s definitely going to haunt him forever.
Jungkook is no stranger to his current situation. That feeling where everything is just a step above too much, when his skin is too tight and his surroundings are fighting for his attention. This happened to him once in a while when he was a kid. When it struck, his aunt would let him stay home from school, and he would lay in bed with the curtains drawn tightly closed and a cool rag over his eyes. He would drink protein shakes all day to avoid the migraine brought upon by chewing, and then everything would be back to normal the next morning.
“Sensory overload” is what his doctor had called it when he went for a check-up at age ten. It apparently occurs when the brain is getting more input than it can process at once. Back then it didn’t make sense to him. He was smarter than all of his classmates, why was his brain having trouble processing things? He knows better now, understands that it has nothing to do with intelligence. Must just be another case of Jeon Luck.
He thought it was bad before. But post-spider bite, sensory overload is a whole new ballpark of suffering. The first time he experienced it a month after gaining his abilities, he completely blacked out. Ever since then, along with his heightened senses comes a constant, dull headache in his temples when going about his daily activities.
The only true respite he gets is when he is in his suit, which he painstakingly designed to help him filter out excess sensory input. He loves his powers, but he reconsiders whether or not they were a gift or a curse whenever this happens.
The routine headache is just slightly worse than usual this morning, growing steadily with every passing hour. He ignores it as best as he can while he runs errands for his aunt. She would have gone shopping herself today if he had told her how he was feeling, but she just got home from a twelve hour-long shift at the hospital. She needed to rest.
Besides, Jungkook is a superhero. He can handle a headache.
Still, he can’t help but glance forlornly at the shelf of painkillers during his stop at CVS. Medications do nothing for him now thanks to his increased metabolism. By the afternoon, he is caught up in a full blown sensory overload episode. And unfortunately for him, he still has to get the car washed before he can go home and hole himself up in his room. If he could, he would go hide in an alley for an hour with his Spider-Man mask on to give himself a break, but he completely forgot his suit at home.
He winds up in line at a Starbucks to get the smallest size of black coffee in the hopes that it will burn his mouth enough for him to stop tasting the pollution in the New York air. It takes all of his control not to react outwardly to all of the overwhelming sensations around him. But inside, he is screaming and yearning to curl into a fetal position for eternity. His nostrils burn from the amount of smells: burnt coffee, fresh coffee, an array of syrups and sweeteners, people’s perfumes, the rotting food in the garbage cans.
Even worse are all of the sounds. The sound of the woman two spots in line behind him tapping her foot impatiently, the man sitting at one of the single tables coughing into his fist, the many coffee makers behind the counter shuddering as they spit out drinks, the incessant bell that chimes every time someone leaves or enters the coffee shop, and the tap tap tap of something in front of him every time the line moves forward.
What the hell is that?
Jungkook opens his eyes (when did he close them?) to find the source of the tapping. What he sees sends his already nauseous stomach flipping, but not in a bad way. The tapping is from a white cane extended out in front of the person standing in line in front of him. His eyes travel up to see the blind man he saved a few weeks ago from being run over in Hell’s Kitchen.
Today he is wearing a dark gray suit with matching slacks, a tie, and a white button-up shirt underneath. He’s replaced his broken sunglasses with identical ones. On anyone else, the circular, dark red frames would probably look cheesy. But on him, they accentuate his angular face and honey tan skin.
The man’s side profile is visible to Jungkook, and he tries to use it as a focal point for his vision. He can see every pore on the man’s face, the slight stubble on his cheeks and chin after a day of not shaving, and the individual hairs on his head. He feels bad for staring so openly, but he needs something to hone his senses on if he doesn’t want to lose control. It’s just an added benefit that his focal point is someone handsome.
He doesn’t say hello, because as far as civilian Jungkook is involved, he has never come across the man in his life. Plus, it’s not like the man would be able to recognize his voice after one conversation that lasted all of two minutes.
“Next customer!” the cashier calls out at a normal volume, but to Jungkook it sounds like she is speaking into a megaphone pressed right up against his ear. The man taps his cane as he steps forward, stopping when it hits the base of the counter.
“Do you have any blueberry scones in the bakery case?” he asks politely.
The answer is yes, which can be determined just by glancing down at the display case below the counter. The cashier has not spared a single glance at the man, so she rolls her eyes at the seemingly ridiculous question. Jungkook tries not to stare too obviously at her, but it’s hard to look away from the heavy blue eyeshadow and dark red lip combo.
The amount of pink blush on her cheeks does not complement her fair skin. She opens her mouth to respond, probably with a condescending answer, but then her eyes trail across the man’s figure.
It’s clear when her brain processes the wearing sunglasses indoors and white cane, because her already pink cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“Uh, y-yes. There are four of them in the display case right now,” the cashier stutters. From here, Jungkook’s heightened vision can make out the letters on her nametag: Nancy.
“I’ll take one of those, please,” the man says. He pulls his wallet out of his pocket while he waits for Nancy to input the order.
“What’s the name?”
“Hoseok.”
A pause.
“How do you spell that?” Nancy asks with a tinge of annoyance in her voice.
Hoseok, as Jungkook has just learned, pays no mind to her tone. He spells out his name for her, and she types it into the computer for the order label to print out.
“That’ll be $4.76.”
Hoseok opens his wallet and feels around in it without tilting his head down. He pulls out a bill folded like a triangle and holds it out in Nancy’s vague direction. “This should be ten dollars, I ran out of fives,” he tells her apologetically.
Nancy gingerly takes the bill from him as if his hand is going to bite her. Jungkook represses a scoff at the action. He can’t keep himself from flinching when the cash register pops open; the sound of the coins clanging together in the drawer grates on his overly sensitive eardrums. She inputs the amount of the bill into the computer, and the total change appears on the digital screen facing the customer side of the counter.
“Your change is five dollars and twenty-four cents,” Nancy informs Hoseok. She puts his ten dollar bill into the cash register drawer, then removes two dimes and four pennies.
Jungkook watches her every movement with burning eyes. She takes out two bills, one a dollar and the other a five. His breath catches as she skillfully slips the five dollar bill into the front pocket of her green Starbucks apron, then places the dollar bill and coins into Hoseok’s outstretched hand.
Holy shit. Did that just happen? Is she really trying to steal money from a blind person?
Jungkook tenses, hesitating on whether or not to step in. Should he say something? He feels like he should say something. He isn’t Spider-Man right now, but he doesn’t need to be a superhero to stop someone from being an ableist asshole.
So despite pain sparking through his every limb as he takes a step forward, Jungkook interrupts and says, “You’re giving him a dollar and twenty-four cents. I saw you put a five dollar bill into your pocket.”
Nancy’s face turns tomato red, whether that’s out of anger or shame from being caught, Jungkook doesn’t know. Hoseok turns his head to face the direction Jungkook is standing, raising a single brow.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Nancy denies vehemently.
Jungkook scoffs, then winces as the feeling grates against his vocal chords. “I know you probably don’t get paid enough for working here, but that’s no reason to cheat a blind person out of their money. It’s actually pretty gross to do that.”
His words receive a litany of stuttered excuses and offended sounds. Everything Nancy says melts together with the other countless noises around him, and his vision suddenly swims. His legs turn to jelly, and he has to grip the edge of the counter to steady himself.
Fuck, he’s gonna pass out.
Oh well, he’ll be fine. Someone will probably call an ambulance or he’ll wake up in a few minutes on the floor. Either way, he thinks that passing out right now isn’t the worst thing. Anything is better than this absolute dumpster fire of a day he’s having. Just when he’s about to give in and let himself lose consciousness, Hoseok grasps firmly at his upper arm.
The touch is grounding as Hoseok’s fingers squeeze lightly but surely around his bicep and he tells Nancy, “Forget it. Just keep the money, we’re going to leave now.”
With that being said, Hoseok practically drags Jungkook out of the Starbucks and into the open air of Queens. He feels like screaming as the sunlight burns into his retinas and the onslaught of noise from the heavy traffic deafens him. Where are they going? Why is he letting a stranger pull him around like a rag doll?
The tapping of Hoseok’s cane is sharp against the sidewalk as he leads the way to somewhere unknown. After a minute, the two turn into an alley shaded from the sun. Jungkook’s legs give out as soon as Hoseok releases him. He falls none too gently onto his butt, clapping his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut.
It’s too much, it’s all too much. Please just stop! He prays to whoever might be listening above, but his body still feels like he’s being dragged through a wood chipper and spat out into a vat of acid on the other end. A breathy sob shudders through him.
Then, a pair of calloused but gentle hands cup over his own and press down, further muffling the sounds around him. He squints open one eye to see Hoseok crouching down in front of him. His expression is one of concern.
Despite having two pairs of hands covering his ears, Jungkook can still hear Hoseok clearly as he says, “You’re experiencing sensory overload.”
It isn’t a question, but rather a sure statement. Hoseok has no doubt about what he is saying.
“How do you know that?” Jungkook asks, his voice just above a whisper. That’s as loud as he can bear to be right now. He isn’t used to speaking when he's this far gone.
Tilting his head in that irritatingly familiar way of his, Hoseok takes a deep breath. “Because I’m Daredevil.”
What.
What?
So many things that didn’t make sense before now click in his mind. The fact that Daredevil can fight so well in the dark. The familiar head tilt that Hoseok and Daredevil share. Daredevil’s insistence that they have met before. Hoseok’s comment when Jungkook said he had people to save.
“I should probably run. People to save and all.”
“I can imagine.”
Despite all of these thoughts and epiphanies running through his head, all Jungkook manages to respond with is, “But...you’re blind?”
Then, “Oh God, that’s so rude, I’m sorry.”
Hoseok laughs. Genuinely laughs, and it’s a beautiful, startling sound that is paired with his lips curling into a heart that makes Jungkook’s insides melt.
“Yes, that’s also true. I’m Daredevil, and I’m blind,” he confirms.
Jungkook is silent for a moment as he considers this new information. He’s experienced weirder things, like that one time a giant lizard man attacked Queens on Valentine’s Day. So why not accept that there’s a blind vigilante out there, too?
“Why are you trusting me with your secret identity?”
“Because you’re Spider-Man,” Hoseok replies matter of factly.
Jungkook’s heart rate skyrockets after hearing that. No one knows about him being Spider-Man. He has half the mind to deny it, but quickly realizes there’s no use at this point.
“How did you figure it out?” he asks instead.
“I recognized your voice when we met on the rooftop, but I couldn’t place it. Even when you kept me from getting hit by that car, you were so familiar but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard your voice before. Then today, it clicked. You’re Jungkook. I saved you that night in the alley last year.” Hoseok’s words get softer as he finishes speaking.
“How do you even remember that? You save so many people every day. It must be hard to keep track of everyone especially if all you have to go off of is voice,” Jungkook points out. He realizes that they’re still on the ground and both of them are covering his ears, but he makes no move to change that. Neither does Hoseok.
“It is difficult. But you’re very memorable.” Hoseok’s smile is enchanting. “Plus, you wear the same cologne as Spider-Man does. That definitely helps.”
Jungkook’s face heats up. Hoseok isn’t wrong. He does wear the same cologne every day. It’s good cologne. He has such a sensitive nose nowadays, and the citrus pine scent he gets free samples of from the Sephora at Queens Place Mall is the only kind that doesn’t burn his nostrils. He never even thought about washing it off before going on patrol.
His brain is short circuiting. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to stop himself from asking, “Daredevil has a boyfriend?”
Hoseok laughs again. “Yes.”
Of course. What are the odds that both of the men Jungkook has obscure crushes on not only end up to be the same person, but also are not single? Pretty good, as it turns out. Fucking Jeon Luck.
“I knew no straight guy could have Daredevil’s ass,” he blurts out before he can stop himself.
A moment of silence. Jungkook internally smacks himself. Why does his brain-to-mouth filter totally break whenever he’s around Hoseok? This is so humiliating.
Instead of responding to that, Hoseok changes the subject and asks, “You weren’t Spider-Man when I saved you that night, were you?”
Jungkook is about to shake his head when he thinks better of it. “No, I got my powers a little while after that,” he confirms.
An airplane passing overhead pierces Jungkook’s ears through the thinly constructed barrier of both of their hands. It vibrates through every fiber of his being, and for a brief second his vision completely whites out. When it comes back, Hoseok’s expression is pinched with even more worry.
“We need to get you home. Do you have anything there to help you deal with your senses?” He gently removes his hands and Jungkook follows suit, and the onslaught of noise all around him doubles down. Nausea roils in his stomach, but he swallows it down.
“I’ve got my mask. That usually works well enough,” Jungkook responds as he stands.
With a nod Hoseok grabs him by the upper arm and they exit the alleyway together. Jungkook pulls the hoodie of his jacket up over his head to shield himself from some of the sunlight, but it does little to ease his overwhelmed eyes. Even when he looks straight down, he can still see every detail in the cracks on the sidewalk; all the scuffs on the shoes of people walking past him.
Hoseok practically leads the way with how little help Jungkook is being, barely able to mumble out when to turn and what direction to head in towards his apartment. The contents of everything he’s picked up during his errands today rattle in his backpack, and that’s when he remembers he left his car in the Starbucks parking lot. Oh well. There is no way he is in the right space to drive right now, and obviously Hoseok wouldn’t be much help in that respect. He’ll just pick it up tomorrow.
A laugh bubbles up in his chest as he realizes how they must look to the people surrounding them. To anyone who doesn’t know any better, they’d probably assume Jungkook is leading around Hoseok, some poor blind guy. No one who takes a glance at them will have a single clue that they’re walking by two superpowered vigilantes.
Eventually, right when Jungkook feels ready to give up and take a migraine-induced nap on the side of the street, they reach his apartment complex. Hoseok doesn’t let him go just yet, and Jungkook practically leans all his weight against the other man.
Hoseok puts some space in between them so that they’re facing each other an arm’s distance apart. “Listen, Jungkook, I have heightened senses, too. I’ve had them for way longer than you have, and it took me years to get them under control enough to function as a normal person,” he says softly.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook replies, unsure of where the other is going with this.
A dazzling half smile spreads across Hoseok’s face. He needs to stop doing that, it’s not fair when Jungkook is in such a vulnerable state.
“What I’m trying to say is you don’t have to deal with this alone. I can help you hone your senses so that you can find solace in yourself rather than just your suit.”
“Oh. That’d be really nice, actually. Thank you.”
With a nod, Hoseok pulls out a card from a pocket on the inside of his jacket and places it in Jungkook’s palm. He carefully closes Jungkook’s fingers around it to make sure it doesn’t fall to the ground. “Anytime. Just give me a shout next time you’re in Hell’s Kitchen, or stop by this address. Are you good to get up to your apartment on your own?”
“Yeah I think I can handle it. Thank you, really,” Jungkook says shyly. He feels a blush rise to his cheeks, and wonders if Hoseok can sense it somehow. Maybe he can feel the warmth or hear the uptick of Jungkook’s heartbeat.
“It’s no problem. Thank you for stepping in with the cashier earlier. Not many people care enough to help out when that happens.”
“Do people try to steal from you often?” Jungkook asks incredulously.
A more somber expression crosses Hoseok’s face at the question. “More than you’d think. Unfortunately some get away with it. I don’t go shopping alone very often because of it, but today was an extenuating circumstance.”
That’s right, Jungkook almost forgot. Hell’s Kitchen was Hoseok’s territory, why was he buying pastries from a Starbucks in Queens? He asks as much, but Hoseok just gives him a mysterious smirk that sends a shiver down his spine.
“Just investigating a case. I got hungry on the way home, is all” is his excuse. It’s obvious that’s not at all the whole truth, probably not even half of it.
Jungkook has an inkling that whatever he is doing in Queens has to do with Daredevil. It must be something that needed a more delicate approach, one that Hoseok couldn’t achieve with the brute force and intimidation that comes along with his secret identity. Knowing better than to push for further details, Jungkook lets it go.
“Well, I’m going to go pass out now. Thanks again. I’ll keep in touch.”
Jungkook doesn’t know how to close the conversation. A handshake would be too impersonal considering they were just inches away from one another in an alleyway and Jungkook has literally been cradled in Hoseok’s arms before. But he’s too overwhelmed for a hug, and they probably aren’t there yet either. So Jungkook just awkwardly turns away after saying, “I’m going inside now. Bye.”
Hoseok calls back a goodbye of his own, and then Jungkook enters the building. He stumbles in his hurry to get up to his apartment. Now with Hoseok gone, he has nothing to ground himself with. Everything is pressing in on him. On his way up to his floor in the elevator, he tugs on his hair to distract himself from the way the gears above him seem to grind against his teeth.
He tries to be quiet when he gets into the apartment so as to not wake his aunt. It’s hard to tell if he succeeded, every footstep sounds as loud as a gunshot to him right now. When he gets into his room, he pries his Spider-Man suit out from its hiding place in the back of his closet. He pulls the mask over his head and releases a full body sigh of relief.
Everything dulls to a manageable hum that he can block out when he shuts his eyes. He strips down to his boxers because his clothes have been feeling like sandpaper against his skin for hours now, then collapses onto his bed. A few minutes pass by where he just lets himself lay there and breathe. Only after he feels like he has some control back does he look at the card Hoseok handed him, picking it up from where he tossed it onto his nightstand.
It’s a standard business card with the words K&J Attorneys at Law printed in bold blocky letters. So Hoseok is a lawyer, how ironic. Along with the law firm name there is an address and a phone number. Under all of the printed words are a series of raised dots. Everything is written in Braille, too, he realizes.
When is it too soon to stop by? How would he explain to Hoseok’s coworkers why he’s there? Do they know that he’s Daredevil? As he thinks over all of his previous interactions with Hoseok, he notes that all but one of them have involved them saving one another. He hopes that doesn’t become a lasting trend. He also bemoans that Hoseok is in a serious relationship, because after today, his crush on the vigilante is more alive than ever.
He’ll have to deal with it later. For now, a long nap.
Jungkook closes his eyes and tries not to imagine Hoseok’s heart shaped smile or his firm yet gentle grip. He falls asleep with the business card loosely grasped between his fingers.
Fin.