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While there were many things that he didn’t know about his new future as Spiderman, the one thing that Jisung did know was that everyone was going to have an opinion about it.
There were some people at his school that had openly voiced their distaste for the other superheroes that had popped up across the country, loudly talking in the dining hall about how pointless and stupid they were.
But he had also seen the obsessive fans, the people that worshipped superheroes and followed their every move, making Instagram fan pages and Twitter update accounts.
He knew that he was diving head first into the ocean of public opinion, opening himself up to criticism and infatuation alike.
He didn’t, however, expect that his two best friends would fall on entirely opposite sides of the spectrum.
“Did you guys hear about the new superhero in town?” Hyunjin burst into the library as loud as ever, earning himself an aggressive ‘shhh!’ from the librarian that had been glaring at them all day.
Jisung’s throat felt like sandpaper as he swallowed, avoiding Hyunjin’s eyes and staring very intensely at his mostly empty worksheet. He tapped his foot under the table, suddenly brimming with anxious energy.
It was only last night that he had been caught on camera for the first time, seeing the video posted on Twitter when he made it back to his dorm room. By the time the sunlight slipped through his curtains and brightened his room so much that he could no longer hit snooze, every newspaper in the city was reporting on the city’s first superhero.
Jisung was prepared for the onslaught of media speculating about him, shaking it off and making his way to the library to study with his best friend and painfully out-of-reach crush Minho.
They had been ‘studying’ for a couple of hours, kicking each other’s feet under the table and making jokes about their coursework, and Jisung had almost entirely forgotten that he had an alter-ego superhero secret identity.
Almost.
“No, I didn’t hear,” Jisung said once he had collected his nerves, eyes still glued to his paper, “What superhero?”
“Spiderman!” Hyunjin replied eagerly, still speaking loud enough to prompt the librarian to sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose.
Jisung’s leg stilled under the table, and he bit at his lip while his eyes traced the same few phrases on his assignment.
Should he just tell them?
If anyone should know about his superhero identity, it would definitely be Hyunjin and Minho. And now that the existence of Spiderman was known to the public—known to Hyunjin —the opportunity for him to break the news to them was just waiting to be seized.
“Who cares?” Minho said with an eye roll, still flipping through the pages of his textbook and barely giving his attention to Hyunjin.
Jisung’s gaze snapped from his paper and to Minho’s uninterested face, scanning it for some sort of answer. Just when he was about to look away, to avoid being caught staring, Minho’s eyes met his for a brief moment. Jisung belatedly realized that he must have looked somewhat upset, judging by the mild concern that flashed over Minho’s face.
Minho raised an eyebrow at him as if to ask why he was acting so oddly, and Jisung squirmed in his seat. He tucked his hands under his thighs and cleared his throat quietly, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“I dunno, I just think a superhero could be kinda cool…or whatever,” Jisung offered with a wince, not convincing himself and surely not convincing Minho.
Hyunjin, however, was completely sold on his poorly delivered excuse, grinning ear to ear and clapping so loudly that both Jisung and Minho flinched.
“Exactly! Spiderman is exactly what this city needs!” Hyunjin declared dramatically, holding his fist in the air triumphantly as if he had just finished a motivational speech.
“I’m gonna need you to worry a little less about what this city needs and a little more about what you need. Which is professional help, by the way,” Minho closed his textbook and shoved it into his bag, quickly zipping it shut and throwing a strap over his shoulder with a blank face, “I’ll see you guys later.”
His chair was empty and his figure was disappearing through the library door before Jisung could even think of something to say, and the dejected superhero slumped in his chair with a frown.
He was ready for people not to like Spiderman, for people not to like him.
But he could have never prepared for Minho of all people to disapprove, and his heart felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as it sunk into his chest.
After nearly a year of heart eyes and unrequited crushing, Jisung had made peace with the fact that Minho would never see him in the same way. He didn’t expect him to, anyway.
Minho was perfect—pretty purple hair that always looked flawless, a sharp nose that gave him the side profile of a god, eyes like a cat that carried a glint of mischief, and glorious legs that could sail a thousand ships.
And Jisung was—well, he was just Jisung.
With the new knowledge that Minho was very decidedly not interested in superheroes or anything to do with them, Jisung wallowed in his seemingly hopeless fate of eternal pining and doom.
After nearly a month of having his face—rather, his mask—plastered on the front of every local magazine and the name ‘Spiderman’ floating around in every room he entered, Jisung still hadn't gotten used to his friends and their varying superhero opinions.
Hyunjin was a huge fan—he kept tabs on Spiderman and updated Jisung and Minho constantly, even though neither of them had asked for it at any point in time.
Minho, on the other hand, had gone from simply not caring about Spiderman to openly hating him, purely to spite Hyunjin.
But poor, poor Jisung was suffering alongside his Spiderman-crazed friend, his heart breaking a little more with each and every time Minho rolled his eyes.
“Did you hear about Spiderman?!” Hyunjin screeched as he flew into the dining hall, holding his phone in one hand and half-eaten croissant in the other. His entrance disturbed everyone in the cafeteria except for Minho and Jisung, who were sitting at a table in the corner and far too used to his antics by now.
“Who?” Minho asked without even lifting his gaze from his bag of chips, popping another in his mouth and crunching loudly. Hyunjin made a noise of frustration, setting his croissant on their table and sitting down hurriedly.
“Spiderm—”
“Asked. Who asked. Because I sure didn’t,” Minho looked Hyunjin in the eye with a blank stare, face void of emotion as he ate another chip. Jisung let out an amused snort despite himself, biting his cheeks to stop his lips from breaking into a smile.
“ Anyways ,” Hyunjin squinted at Minho, glaring daggers at the older and reaching over the table to steal a chip, “Spiderman is totally gonna catch that gang tonight.”
“Who is Spiderman?” Minho deadpanned, snatching his bag of chips away and out of Hyunjin’s reach, “I’ve never heard of him.”
For once, Jisung wasn’t worried about Minho’s snarky words, too caught up in what Hyunjin had unsolicitedly reported to them. He looked around the cafeteria anxiously, tugging on his bottom lip with his top teeth and pretending to know a little less than he actually did.
He had been closing in on a group of thieves that were hitting up buildings just outside of campus, and after a fistfight with the gang’s leader, he was sure that their reign of terror was nearing its end.
But Hyunjin didn’t know that he knew that, so he played along.
“What gang are you talking about?” Jisung fidgeted with his fork, poking at his spaghetti and pretending to be clueless. It wasn’t too hard, since he was generally clueless in any other given situation.
“You know that group that’s been breaking into all of the places around the school?” Hyunjin whispered conspiratorily, eyes darting back and forth between Jisung and Minho.
Jisung and Minho, however, were looking at each other, sharing a glance at the mention of the school’s gang problem. They both knew that Minho’s dance classes were in that exact area—Minho knew because some of his students had stopped showing up out of fear, and Jisung knew because he had been keeping an eye on the studio out of fear that Minho would be hurt.
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Jisung nodded slowly, still holding Minho’s gaze and wondering how long was too long to stare at your supposedly fully platonic best friend.
“Spiderman got into a fight with their leader last night! And he totally whooped his ass!” Hyunjin whisper-shouted, loud enough that whispering in the first place was pretty much entirely pointless.
Jisung let his eyes fall away from his pretty friend and down to his hand, staring at the bruises that had started to form on his knuckles. He tightened his grip on his fork and watched the fabric of the bandaid on his thumb shift, his mind unhelpfully supplying him with imagery of the ugly split knuckle that was underneath the bandage.
When he lifted his gaze from his blossoming injuries, Minho was staring at him intently, his eyes boring holes into Jisung’s face as he read the younger like a book.
Minho always saw right through him.
Minho pointedly looked down at Jisung’s bruised knuckles and back up to his face, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow and making Jisung feel like he was under a microscope.
Before he could get interrogated and possibly discovered, Jisung was rescued by Hyunjin and his overexcitable mouth.
“He’s definitely gonna beat that gang once and for all tonight,” Hyunjin smiled proudly, and Jisung would feel flattered if he wasn’t so easily irritated by Hyunjin’s Spiderman-crazed antics.
“Wow, Jinnie,” Jisung finally looked away from Minho and spun his fork absentmindedly, poking at his pasta without any intention of eating it, “That’s crazy.”
“Yeah, crazy boring,” Minho scoffed, popping the last chip in his mouth and crumpling the bag up in his fist, “I’m gonna start heading to dance class.”
Jisung rose to his feet before Minho could even sling his backpack over his shoulder, abandoning his barely eaten spaghetti and shoving his fork in his sweater pocket.
“Let me walk you,” Jisung said as casually as possible, clicking the lid onto his container and haphazardly tossing it into his backpack.
Minho gave him an unamused look as if to say ‘I don’t need to be babysat,’ but Jisung was not so easily deterred.
“Please?” Jisung put on his best pouty face, puppy-dog eyes and everything, deciding to ignore the overexaggerated retching noise that came out of Hyunjin.
“Fine,” Minho rolled his eyes in an attempt to look exasperated, but the fond smile on his lips was a dead giveaway for his endearment, “But only because you asked so nicely.”
“Pshh, don’t act like you’re not glad to have me around to protect you from that gang Hyunjin was talking about,” Jisung smiled back, pushing his chair back under the table and gesturing to the door with his head as they began walking, “You should be happy to have a personal bodyguard.”
“You? My personal bodyguard?” Minho asked amusedly, pointedly looking Jisung up and down as the younger tried not to squirm under his gaze, “As if. With your noodle arms?”
“Noodle arms?! These are guns,” Jisung pretended to be offended, mouth open and gawking incredulously. He lifted up the sleeve of his t-shirt on the arm that wasn’t half-carrying his backpack, pushing the fabric up to his shoulder and flexing as hard as he could, “I should need a license to carry these things.”
Minho coughed loudly, burying his face in his elbow and nearly choking up a lung. His face turned beet red—from the lack of air, surely—and he nearly stumbled over his feet, recovering quickly and sucking in a few deep breaths.
“Alright, maybe you hit the gym a little,” Minho relented, looking at anything but Jisung as they walked together to the exit of the building, “But you’re still a scaredy cat.”
“Guilty,” Jisung raised his hands above his head with a shameless smile, unable to deny his jumpy nature. Minho was not any better, of course, but Jisung supposed that he could let him have this one victory.
Besides, he was so cute when he smiled all smugly like that.
“If anyone were a bodyguard, it would be Changbin,” Minho speculated, tapping his chin in thought as they walked along the sidewalk, “He’s built like a Tonka truck.”
Jisung scoffed at that, trying not to look as jealous as he felt, “What, you’d pick Changbin as your bodyguard over me?” he dared to ask, even though he wasn’t sure that he really wanted the answer.
“No, I didn’t say that,” Minho shot him a sly smile, bumping their shoulders together, “I’d pick you.”
“But I thought I was a scaredy cat?” Jisung focused on preventing his voice from wavering, his heart doing pitiful flips in his chest. He bumped Minho back, using their banter as an excuse to be close to him.
“I’m a scaredy cat, too—” Jisung mumbled a quiet ‘true,’ earning himself an elbow to the ribs, “—so we’d probably just die screaming like little girls,” Minho laughed to himself quietly, shaking his head with a smile, “At least we’d die together, right?”
“Right,” Jisung choked out with a nod, unable to stop his cheeks from heating up.
They fell into a comfortable silence rather quickly, sneakers scraping along the pavement as they walked side by side. Jisung wished that someday he could walk Minho to dance class and hold his hand along the way, or that he could kiss his cheek goodbye when they had to go their separate ways.
He didn’t get to daydream long—which was probably good for his gay and delusional brain—as Minho let out a small laugh.
“Plus, it would be a pretty funny way to go,” Minho’s smile was bright enough that Jisung nearly donned his pair of stylishly ugly sunglasses, “Hyunjin would totally cry a river at our funeral.”
“ Our funeral?” Jisung quirked an eyebrow, nudging Minho with his shoulder again, “We would share a funeral?”
“Uh, Duh?” Minho looked at Jiusng like he was from Mars, his eyes playfully judging, “What’s the point of dying together if we aren’t gonna share a funeral?”
Jisung made a choking, dying noise, trying to cover it up by forcing a cough. He half-heartedly pretended to cough for a few seconds, clearing his throat and trying to think of how he was supposed to respond.
“Unless you don’t want to be with me in the afterlife…?” Minho’s tone was teasing, but his voice carried a hint of sincerity, a tinge of uncertainty, and Jisung entered panic mode.
“No! I mean, yes? I do want that, that sounds, um. Great!,” Jisung stammered out far too eagerly, flushing bright pink when he realized how dorky he sounded, “Cool. I mean, that would be chill. Or whatever.”
Minho huffed out a laugh and shook his head fondly, eyes closing as he let out a long sigh. Jisung nearly tripped over his feet as he screeched to a halt when he realized that Minho had stopped walking, regaining his balance and taking in his surroundings. He frowned to himself when he realized that they had made it to Minho’s dance studio, disappointment settling in his chest.
The sand in the hourglass of their time together had run out far too soon, as it often did, and he tried not to look too pouty about it.
“Ugh, don’t give me that sad look,” Minho smiled at him, his fingers already on the handle of the front door, “You always look like you’re never gonna see me again when I go to class.”
“It feels like I’m never gonna see you again,” Jisung committed to the pout once he had been caught in the act, folding his arms and huffing quietly.
“You’ll survive,” Minho rolled his eyes, still lingering by the door. Jisung found it funny, how Minho made fun of him for being sad about parting ways but was always hesitant to walk over the threshold. He supposed that he should find it annoying, or maybe hypocritical, but he thought that it was cute.
“Will I? I might just perish without you,” Jisung grinned as he relished in Minho’s unwillingness to say goodbye.
“You can’t perish,” Minho shot him a sly smile, turning to pull open the door and looking over his shoulder, “I’d kill you if you died without me.”
With that, he slipped into the building and the door clicked shut behind him, leaving Jisung standing on the sidewalk with a dumb smile on his face. Jisung felt his cheeks start to grow sore from the permanent grin that he wore around Minho, and he let himself daydream for a few moments before he slowly made his way back to reality.
After all, he did have a gang to catch.
Walking as casually and inconspicuously as possible, he made his way to the alley behind the dance studio and tossed his backpack onto the gravel. He fished his suit out of the front pocket, jumping as he shimmied the fabric over his legs. Tugging the mask over his head, Jisung let out a small puff of air as he prepared himself for an evening of watching over the city. He stuffed his backpack behind a dumpster, leaving it for safekeeping. He had tried to carry it with him once, but only once, since trying to keep track of it was an absolute nightmare. So he left it hidden safely in the alley, shooting a string of web from his right wrist and hoisting himself up onto the roof of Minho’s dance studio.
Hopping from building to building, Jisung kept his eyes peeled and his ears on high alert, scanning for any sign of trouble.
He didn’t find any for quite some time, swinging between lamp poles boredly as the streets remained peaceful for the evening. By the time the streetlights flickered on and the businesses around campus were either closed or turning on their LED signs, Jisung was nearly ready to give up and head home. But something in him told him to stick around, so he perched himself atop a building and squinted down at the dark streets.
Besides, Minho would be done teaching his dance classes sometime soon anyway, so he could stand to kill a bit more time.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”
Jisung’s heart dropped into his stomach at the sound of a familiar voice, his favorite voice, and he rose to his feet with panic coursing through his veins. He examined the neighborhood, realizing that he was only one road over from Minho’s dance studio.
Scampering across the rooftop and out of breath before even kicking into action, Jisung peered over the ledge and looked to where he knew the studio to be.
He felt sick as he watched Minho get cornered by a couple of the guys that he had been hoping to track down, the dancer’s back hitting the wall as he tried to put distance between himself and the threat.
“Just unlock the door, kid,” one of the gang members spat in an ugly voice, slowly stalking toward Minho, “We won’t have to hurt you if you just let us into the building.”
Jisung’s eyes searched Minho’s figure until he saw a glint of metal between his fingers, his set of keys to the dance studio surely visible to the thieves.
“Like hell I’m gonna do that!” Minho hissed through his teeth, kicking the closest gang member in the knee and making a run for it as soon as the man crumpled on the sidewalk.
He bolted along the pavement, running faster than Jisung had ever seen him move as he darted around corners and tried to lose the gang members on his tail. Jisung followed Minho along the tops of the buildings, fortunately able to keep up as he tracked the dancer’s path through the streets.
He was nearly out of breath by the time Minho dipped into a back alley, quickly tucking behind the corner and visibly sighing with relief as the trio of thieves ran right past him and down the block. Jisung shot a string of web to carry himself across the street, landing on the building next to the alley where Minho was hiding. He stuck his fingers to the wall, crawling down the brick wall and gently padding onto the gravel.
Poking his head out from behind a recycling bin, Minho was hiding against the opposite wall, eyes wide with alert as he searched for any signs of his attackers. Jisung slowly approached him from behind, careful not to rustle any gravel and startle the already on-edge boy.
“Psst,” he whispered once he was right behind Minho, leaning close to avoid speaking loudly and drawing any attention.
Minho nearly jumped out of his skin, jolting with surprise and turning around to face Jisung with a terrified gasp.
“Holy— ugh, it’s you, ” Minho groaned quietly, and Jisung was painfully reminded that right now he was Spiderman and not Minho’s beloved best friend, “You scared the absolute shit out of me!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jisung raised his hands up in defense, trying to keep his voice down, “I saw what happened, are you okay?”
“Do I look like I’m—” Minho whisper-yelled, exasperated, and still crawling with anxiety, “I just need to get the hell out of here!”
“Okay, just…give me a second,” Jisung looked up to the sky, searching for something that he could latch a web onto and trying to plan a discreet way out.
“Oh, yeah, sure. Take your time,” Minho rolled his eyes with a scoff, folding his arms stubbornly and frowning.
His sassy demeanor was quickly washed away by fear as he ducked down under the recycling bin, tugging Jisung along with him when he heard the voices of the gang members. Jisung nearly fell on his face as Minho’s fingers latched onto his suit, pulling him down to the gravel and crouching by his side. He stayed quiet as Minho placed a finger over his lips and let out a small ‘shh,’ eyes darting around with panic.
“Where is that damn kid?” one of the thieves spat, his voice alarmingly close as he passed by the alley that they were hiding in. Minho shuddered against his side, and Jisung instinctually wrapped an arm around his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. He didn’t miss the glare that Minho shot at him, but the way the dancer stopped shaking let him know that his efforts were not in vain.
“Like I said ,” Minho whispered, leaning up against the wall of the building, “I need to get out of here.”
“Take my hand,” Jisung offered out a red and black-gloved hand, already planning their escape in his head. He raised his eyebrow as Minho gawked at him, even though he knew that the questioning expression was covered up by his mask.
“Are you insane? No!” Minho half-shrieked, recoiling away and looking at Jisung like he was crazy.
“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage! I’m trying to save your life!” Jisung insisted, trying not to feel too offended by the refusal as he kept his hand outstretched, “Just take my hand!”
Minho didn’t dignify him with an answer but took his hand anyway, grumbling to himself as he let Jisung tug him to his feet. Jisung led him to the edge of the alley, where the gravel met the pavement, peeking out from around the corner and eyeing the street cautiously. He turned back to Minho, who was still holding his hand with a death grip.
“Do you trust me?” Jisung asked, feeling the fear rolling off of Minho in waves.
“Not even a little bit,” Minho shook his head slightly but didn’t move to let go.
Jisung didn’t have any time to take no for an answer, yanking Minho into the street and ignoring the startled noise that he made as they stepped out into the open. Pulling him by the hand, he led him across the road and up to a streetlight, wrapping an arm around Minho’s waist as he shot a string of web up to the top of the lamp. Minho stifled his yell with a hand over his mouth, feline eyes huge as Jisung swung them up into the air.
He carried Minho to the rooftop, running along the top of the buildings as he made his way back to their university dorms with Minho clinging onto him for dear life.
Only a block into his planned escape to Minho’s room, Jisung belatedly realized that he couldn’t take them to the older’s dorm. He wasn’t supposed to know what dorm building Minho lived in, let alone what school he went to. His steps stuttered as he slowed to a halt, setting Minho down onto the rooftop and looking out at the streets.
“We should be uh, safe here,” Jisung took a deep breath, heart beating wildly as he realized how close he was to giving away his identity, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I…” Minho seemed out of breath too, shuffling his feet on the cement of the rooftop. Jisung didn’t push him too hard for an answer, giving him a moment to catch his breath and a chance to let the adrenaline make its way through his system.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m so glad that you’re around,” Minho laughed lightly once he had calmed down, flashing Jisung a blinding thankful smile.
“Ah, it’s nothing, really,” Jisung rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, relieved that the mask was covering his red cheeks.
“Nothing? That was nothing for you?” Minho laughed again, and Jisung almost laughed along with him, “That was crazy!”
“What, not crazy boring?” Jisung scoffed, recalling Minho’s dismissive words from earlier that day in the cafeteria.
It took Jisung a few moments to realize his mistake, sitting in awfully awkward silence, but Minho recognized it immediately.
“What?” Minho asked in a small voice, staring at Jisung— Spiderman —like he had grown a second head, and Jisung felt his insides spin like a washing machine.
He opted for the temporarily safe option of simply not replying, standing frozen like a painting as his brain processed his mistake and its consequences.
Almost an entire month of dodging questions and faking answers, just to be thrown away by a careless snarky comment—Jisung felt sick.
Unless it wasn’t too late to recover.
“What did you say?” Minho prompted again, more confidence in his voice this time. He took a couple of steps towards Jisung, who forced out an awkward chuckle.
“Huh? Did I say something?” he took turns looking over both of his shoulders, turning his head in any direction except for Minho’s, “I don’t remember saying anything.”
Jisung wore an uncomfortable grin even though he knew that Minho couldn’t see it, and he felt himself growing smaller and smaller as the purple-haired boy saw straight through him.
“How long were you gonna keep this from me?” was the small question that came after a few beats of silence, Minho staring at him with sincere eyes that made Jisung’s head spin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…?” Jisung helplessly tried to recover, wincing at how unsure his own voice sounded.
Maybe he hadn’t been found out after all.
Maybe Minho thought he was Hyunj—no, actually, Jisung didn’t like that option much more than he liked his superhero identity being discovered by his crush.
Maybe Minho just had it all wrong.
“Jisung,” Minho said quietly, and Jisung cursed under his breath, “How long were you planning on hiding this?”
He was so, so screwed.
But if he was anything besides utterly fucked, he was dedicated.
“Who’s, uh…who’s Jisung?” he tried valiantly to keep up the act, but he was sure that his nervous ticks of scratching his neck and shuffling his feet had already more than given him away.
Minho rolled his eyes, scoffing and shooting Jisung a raised eyebrow.
“Ji, you always look like you’re about to throw up whenever Hyunjin brings up Spiderman,” Minho looked him up and down pointedly, eyeing his suit and making Jisung feel thoroughly studied.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jisung indirectly admitted to his fault, pouting hard enough that he hoped Minho could hear it in his voice, “Maybe I just get stomachaches really easily.”
“You have got to be the worst liar I have ever met,” Minho shook his head, but Jisung struggled to find any frustration in the action, only coming up with fondness and a little bit of exasperation.
He froze like his feet were glued to the roof of the building as Minho walked even closer, stopping right in front of Jisung and staring at his mask with those catlike eyes that gave him butterflies.
Shocked into stone by his fluttering heart and unable to move, he stood helplessly as Minho’s fingers drifted up to his neck, sliding under the hem of his mask. Jisung squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the fabric slide over his face, too scared to face Minho unmasked and honestly a little bit worried about how messy his hair might be.
He opened his left eye first, bracing for impact as if the mere sight of Minho staring back at his unmasked face was going to hurt him. When he only saw Minho staring back at him expectantly, he opened his other eye and let the stress fall out of his tense shoulders.
“How did you know?” Jisung asked breathlessly, his heart slamming in his ears as Minho didn’t move to step back.
“I’ve always had my suspicions,” Minho smiled at him, washing away Jisung’s worry that he would be mad or upset, “Like I said, you get all squeamish whenever we talk about superheroes.”
“Hey,” Jisung pouted, fully visible this time, “I have a sensitive tummy.”
“You disappear every evening without a word and then show up the next morning covered in bruises,” Minho deadpanned, pointedly glancing down at Jisung’s hands that were wringing themselves at his waist, and they both knew that the fingers underneath the suit were littered with bruises and bandaids.
Jisung pretended to think about it, making a small ‘hmm’ noise as he tried to think of reasons to deny the accusation, despite standing in front of Minho unmasked and very clearly caught.
“Maybe I’m in an underground fight club. We both know that the first rule of fight club is to ne—”
“I saw your backpack in the alley behind the studio,” Minho cut him off with a cheshire grin, smiling at Jisung’s stupidity.
“Oh,” was all that Jisung could reply, blinking wildly and wondering how he had managed to keep his identity a secret for so long when he was very evidently so bad at it.
“So?” Minho pressed on, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he sought out a reply to his unanswered question, “When were you going to finally say something?”
“Never, probably,” Jisung admitted with a shrug, but he yelped out an ‘ow!’ as Minho slapped him on the shoulder.
“What? You didn’t exactly make it easy to tell you!” Jisung whined, rubbing his shoulder dramatically as Minho glared at him.
“What do you mean ?” Minho shot back, thwacking him in the arm again and earning himself another whiny noise of complaint.
“You’re like, Spiderman Hater numero uno!” Jisung defended himself, recalling all of the times that Minho rolled his eyes at the mention of the superhero or blatantly insulted him whenever Hyunjin got too excited.
“First of all, that’s not true. I don’t hate Spiderman, I just like watching Hyunjin’s face twist up all funny when he gets annoyed,” Minho’s frown softened, and his hand reached up to touch gently at the spot on Jisung’s arm that he had just assaulted, “Second of all, even if I did hate Spiderman, I could never hate you.”
“What?” Jisung asked quietly, caught off guard by the sudden gentleness in Minho’s voice. He searched the older’s face for any sort of answer, scanning his features and biting his lip anxiously.
“Jisung, you could kick puppies for a living and I still wouldn’t be able to hate you,” Minho joked lightly, giving Jisung a half-hearted shove on the chest, “I like you too much for that.”
But the humor was mostly lost on Jisung, as his weak little heart skipped so many beats that he wasn’t sure if it was still working.
“Well that’s awfully cheesy, now isn’t it?” Jisung teased with a smile, desperately clinging to humor in an attempt to keep his brain from exploding. He wasn’t sure if Minho was really saying what he thought he might be saying, but he sure as hell didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Oh come on ,” Minho rolled his eyes with an exasperated puff of air, but the rose color that slowly appeared on his cheeks was ruining his irritated image, “I did not spend the last year trying to figure out how to confess to you just for you to make fun of me when I actually try to do it.”
Jisung’s stupid teasing grin fell off of his face instantly, his jaw hanging open dramatically as a flustered Minho avoided his gaze. He wanted to focus on the panic in his chest and his frantically fluttering heart, but he found a portion of his attention being sucked in by how cute Minho looked when he blushed. How cute he looked when he blushed because of Jisung .
“I—the… huh?!” Jisung stammered out, nearly choking on his own spit as his brain processed Minho’s words at an alarmingly slow rate. He was knocked out of orbit by Minho’s shyness, unprepared to deal with the emotions in the air that he didn’t think were quite within the realm of ‘platonic’ anymore.
“Are you just gonna stand there floundering like a fish, or are you gonna tell me that you like me back?” Minho grumbled with bright red cheeks, still staring over his shoulder into the distance and failing in his attempt to play it cool.
“No, sorry, I,” Jisung waved his hands in front of him wildly, moving them around vaguely until they found a home on Minho’s shoulders, “I do. Like you back, I mean.”
Minho finally met his gaze, his eyes shiny as they searched Jisung’s face for sincerity. Soon enough, his lips split into a vulpine grin, making heat rise to Jisung’s cheeks again. After only a few moments of timidity and bashfulness, Minho was immediately back to making Jisung feel like the mouse being hunted by the cat.
He watched mesmerized as Minho’s pretty smile opened into a grin, unable to stop himself from gawking at the sight of his bunny-like front teeth tugging on his bottom lip.
“Jisungie,” Minho laughed quietly, snaking his arms around Jisung’s neck as his fingers fidgeted with the mask that he still held in his hands, “You’re staring.”
Jisung’s eyes snapped up to Minho’s, feeling flustered by the knowing look in them. He shuffled awkwardly, his tongue subconsciously darting out to wet his lips.
“Sorry,” he breathed out, his rapidly thrumming heart far too aware of how close they were. He couldn’t help but look down again, see how pretty Minho’s lips looked up close, think about how easy it would be for him to just lean in and—
“You’re not supposed to apologize, silly,” Minho bit on his bottom lip again, making Jisung’s heart spin like a record while his fingers wandered up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, “You’re supposed to kiss me.”
Jisung wasted no time, a green light blinking in his brain as he surged forward to capture Minho’s lips impatiently. He wanted to wipe that smug smile that he loved so much off of Minho’s face, satisfied by the tiny noise of surprise that the older let out against his lips.
Despite being caught off guard, Minho melted against Jisung’s touch nearly instantly, leaning forward until their foreheads bumped together. Jisung’s heart overflowed with adoration at the motion, his hands drifting up from Minho’s shoulders until they found purchase on his face, cupping his cheeks delicately as he thought about how nice it would be to simply kiss Minho for the rest of his life.
He’d be good at it, he thought, pulling small noises from the back of Minho’s throat as if he were an expert. As soon as he felt his lips instinctively parting and Minho’s movements growing eager, he mustered up all of his willpower to pull away, catching his breath and trying not to feel too disappointed at the moment coming to an end.
Minho looked at him with a pout, his lips glossy and practically begging Jisung to kiss him again. He nearly gave in to the urge but remained strong, willing all of the blood in his body to stay above waist level.
“C’mon, I should get you home,” Jisung rubbed the pad of his thumb along Minho’s cheek, silently hating the words that came out of his own mouth even though he knew that he was being a responsible neighborhood superhero.
The sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon, turning the dimmed evening into pitch black night. While he had other very important and very, very gay things consuming his brain, Jisung did have at least a sliver of awareness of how dangerous the city could be at night. And he knew that he wanted to protect Minho from danger at all costs, even if the cost at the moment was cockblocking himself.
“You’ll come in, right?” Minho asked earnestly, turning pink when Jisung moved his hands from his cheeks and planted them on each side of Minho’s waist.
“Hmm, I think I could be convinced to pay a visit,” Jisung grinned a shit-eating grin, squeezing Minho’s waist and reveling in the scowl that he earned.
Tugging him slowly to the edge of the building, Jisung held Minho’s waist tightly as he prepared to swing them to the dorm. Scared of high places, Minho gulped loudly at the precipice of the building, and Jisung flashed him a knowing grin, pausing with his wrist outstretched before shooting out a strand of web. Reaching up to Minho’s arms around his neck and tugging his mask out of the older’s grip, Jisung planted a sweet kiss on his cheek before pulling the mask over his face and stepping off of the side of the building.
He tried not to be too smug about the tight grip around his shoulders as he carried Minho back to campus, trying to keep the trip short as his acrophobic passenger clung on like his life depended on it. Since, well, it sort of did.
Minho’s agony was over soon enough, Jisung landing on the fire escape outside of the antsy boy’s dorm. He was more than familiar with the rickety set of stairs, having snuck out of Minho’s dorm to don his spidersuit more times than he could count.
“You still afraid of heights?” Jisung asked when their feet were planted firmly on the metal platform, grinning lazily at Minho once he pulled his mask off again.
“I hated that. I hate you,” Minho scowled, still wobbling slightly on his feet and holding onto Jisung for stability.
“I thought I could kick kittens for a living and you still couldn’t hate me?” Jisung frowned, pulling Minho against his chest and letting his hands linger on his waist.
“Um, no!” Minho protested immediately, looking at Jisung incredulously, “I said puppies . If you ever hurt a cat, I will personally bury you in a shallow grave.”
He wriggled out of Jisung’s hold, opening his dorm room window and climbing in. Jisung followed soon after him, tossing his mask onto Minho’s bed and closing the window behind him. Flopping onto the mattress and leaning back against the bedframe, Jisung watched amusedly as Minho stubbornly shuffled to the edge of the bed. Seeing his resolve crumble in real-time, Jisung grinned ear-to-ear as Minho climbed up onto the mattress and into his lap.
They woke up in their own time in the morning, yawning in unison as Minho’s curtains did a poor job of blocking out the rising sun. Minho was still buried in his chest, eyes half open as he fought off his lingering sleepiness.
Jisung ran his fingers through a tuft of purple hair, humming a quiet tune to himself.
Lazy and domestic, it was a perfect morning.
Jisung just could not resist the urge to ruin it.
“So how does it feel to fall for your arch-nemesis Spiderman?” he smirked smugly, twirling a piece of Minho’s hair around his finger.
“Who?” Minho asked groggily, reaching blindly behind him to grab a pillow, “I don’t know a Spiderman.”
He swung his arm with intent to kill, smacking Jisung in the face with the pillow. Jisung let out a small ‘oof,’ groaning exaggeratedly as he shoved the pillow off of his head and tossed it onto the ground.
Flashing Minho his award-winning puppy-dog eyes, Jisung sulked in an attempt to garner himself some pity.
He got what he was searching for when Minho rolled his eyes fondly and leaned forward to kiss the pout off of his lips, only stopping when neither of them could quit smiling long enough to focus on the task at hand.
“Lee Minho!” Hyunjin shouted at the top of his lungs as he stormed into the library, brandishing his iced americano like a weapon.
Minho flashed Hyunjin an innocent grin, wiggling his fingers in a lazy wave while Jisung watched cautiously.
“Good morning to you too Hyunjin,” Minho singsonged, turning back to flip through the pages of his textbook.
“Why did I just see a video of you getting saved by Spiderman on Twitter?” Hyunjin hissed, setting his drink down on the table so aggressively that liquid sloshed out of the spout and dribbled down the side of the cup.
“Because I got saved by Spiderman and someone posted it on Twitter?” Minho offered like it was a guess, licking his finger and using it to flip his page. He glanced casually at Jisung, who snickered to himself and tried to muffle the sound with the back of his hand.
“I thought you didn’t even know who Spiderman was!” Hyunjin whined, plopping down into the seat and slamming his head onto the table.
With Hyunjin’s face smooshed against the wood and his blissfully oblivious eyes squeezed shut, Minho took the opportunity to flash a cheshire grin at the superhero in question, and Jisung shot him back a cheeky wink.
“I think I could stand to get to know him,” Minho smiled softly at Jisung, before closing his textbook and thwacking Hyunjin over the head with it.