Chapter Text
Jeongin would consider himself an introvert. He even took the MBTI test, and honestly, when are those wrong? He’s always preferred being alone, cuddled up in the warm confines of his bed, strumming along to or composing a new song about the man of his dreams. When he’s Spiderman, though, it’s a different story. The thrill of swinging through the dark nights never fails to surprise him, and he’ll gladly waste hours trying to save a few thousand cats. Because when Jeongin’s Spiderman, he gains his energy from being around others, from helping them, and from seeing them smile. It gives him his power, somehow, and he couldn’t be happier.
Personally, Jeongin thinks that being Spiderman is pretty cool. Not only does he get abs and an epic set of muscles, but he also gets to experience the wild of the night, and he adores the adrenaline rush he gets every time. The popularity and fame are a nice bonus, too. When he’s not Spiderman, Jeongin's just another music student at Seoul High who’s stressing about finals, simultaneously fanboying for Hwang Hyunjin in his free time—who, mind you, is almost unattainable. Jeongin thinks he’ll stick with the abs for now. Even though they’re not in the same friend group and have drifted apart over the years (not that they were close in the first place, anyway), they still wave to each other every so often, and Hyunjin never fails to smile at him when they see each other at the arcade. It usually leads Jeongin to a miserable loss the next match, but he can’t find it in himself to care. On the plus side, he’s Jeongin’s neighbor, Felix’s, best friend, so Jeongin would like to say he’s close- ish to him.
By syllogism, of course.
Besides, Hyunjin has no right to look that good. With those slim feline eyes, perfectly long hair, and fuck, don’t get Jeongin started on his lips— Jeongin’s startled out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him out of his reverie. He looks over at his (only) friend, Kim Seungmin, shooting him a dirty look as they make their way over to their lockers.
“You didn’t hear a single word I just said, did you?”
“Uh… something about a bunch of tech getting stolen? Sorry. Not really,” Jeongin mumbles, acknowledging that Seungmin had been talking about whatever recent string of crimes Jeongin has been seeing on the news. He’d been meaning to ask Minho about those, anyway, when he’d see the man next. But… that would mean Jeongin’s mind would have to direct away from Hyunjin, and Jeongin thinks he can table that conversation. Jeongin looks apologetically at Seungmin, grabbing his math textbook out of his locker, the green cover folding as he fails to hold it steady. He’s Spiderman —he should be able to do this. Honestly, whoever makes this stuff should at least be trying to make them lighter. God knows how many students have broken their backs carrying them. Seungmin groans, rolling his eyes. Along with Felix and Hyunjin, he’s known Seungmin since the third grade. They’re not close, per se, but they’ve grown closer after Seungmin learned about his alter ego. The man’s absolutely evil, though, and it isn’t a surprise that Seungmin already knows what—or who —Jeongin’s thinking of
“You can’t keep pining after him, Jeongin. Either tell him or don’t. You’ll only end up getting hurt if you keep this a secret.” And that— that is one of Jeongin’s biggest regrets. Falling in love with someone who’s already loved. Jeongin’s not dumb. He sees the way Felix looks at Hyunjin, and if he’s not wrong, he knows that Hyunjin looks at Felix the same way. Still, Jeongin likes to hope. He doesn’t know why he thinks he should, but being Spiderman has taught him a lot of things, one being that he only has one chance at life. It’s also taught him that spiders are disgusting, but he doesn’t like to think about that.
“I’m not pining,” he retorts, ignoring Seungmin’s eye-roll. “Besides, I’m almost done with the song and shit. Give me until Friday, and I’ll ask him out to prom.” Jeongin tells Seungmin, having forfeited the battle against his math textbook, the green mess lying on the floor. Because Jeongin’s cheesy, and can’t do words, he’s taken the easy way out, choosing to perfect one of his many love songs. It’s cliche, he knows, but music is the only thing he’s good at– besides being Spiderman, anyway, and he’s not very good at that either. He’s pretty much done, he just has to work up the courage to play it to Hyunjin, and somehow ask him out in the process. It’s a work in progress, but Jeongin doesn’t have any better ideas. Seungmin eyes him carefully, reaching down to pick up his mangled math textbook. Handing the messy papers to Jeongin, he frowns.
“Why do you have a silver Shrek in your locker?”
Looking back into his locker, Jeongin frowns at the presence of a teensy platinum figure in his locker, shaped like a sort of monster. It looks like a basic face and neck, but while it has a well-defined nose and lips, it lacks eyes. Odd peg-like protrusions are extending from the top of the head, two on the left side and one from the right. Handing his textbook back to Seungmin (who somehow, doesn’t struggle to carry it), he turns it around, noticing a small slip of paper taped to the back. There’s a series of numbers, which ends with scratchy black ink blotting out an almost illegible ‘ I know who you are, Yang Jeongin.”
“Uh… is that supposed to be something from a secret admirer? Do you think it could be someone that knows about—” Seungmin asks, hovering over Jeongin’s shoulder.
“I have no idea. Do you think it’s a gift?” Jeongin interjects, a shiver running up his spine. He doesn’t want to find out if someone knows about his alter ego—but Jeongin knows he’s been careful.
“This doesn’t sit right with me, Jeongin. I’m not sure if it's a gift. Something seems off. I mean, we could be overthinking this, but I still do think it’s important.”
Humming, Jeongin closes his locker, shoving the figurine into his satchel he keeps in his locker to maintain some sense of organization, thanks to Seungmin. He’ll deal with it later after he’s sorted out all this Hyunjin stuff. After all, who in their right mind would send a silver monster figurine to him? Brushing it off as a gift from a random idiot at school, he shrugs at Seungmin, shelving the thought somewhere in his head for later.
“Okay,” Seungmin starts, mouth opening to say more, closing when the bell’s shrill ringing pierces both their ears. “This discussion is not over. We’re getting to the bottom of this”
Jeongin just nods, raising an eyebrow at Seungmin’s words. Pushing the song to the back of his head, he stuffs the textbook in his backpack, rushing to his next class. Hyunjin can wait for a bit.
_
The wind whips at his figure, the harsh air somehow managing to shake his form even as he’s suited up. It’s dark outside, and Jeongin has to barely avoid shooting a web to a pigeon, sending out a string to a brick building in front of him. He watches his reflection swing by as he passes a glass mirror, red and black blurring together as the moonlight glowers over him.
It’s a loud night, with birds squawking and the sound of chainsaws audible as they chip away at faraway trees. The occasional car passes by every minute, looking like a bright red and white streak due to Jeongin’s speed.
He’s here for a valid reason, of course—it’s his night patrol—but Jeongin can’t help but fall in love with the feeling of swinging through the nightlife, surrounded by the sounds of the city as he flies through the dark. It’s not like it doesn’t get boring, but Jeongin’s happy enough staying the whole night like this, even if he’s a literal zombie the next morning. Standing on the edge of a relatively small building that overlooks a dark set of alleys, he aims his fist towards another wall in the distance, ready to fly again, when he feels it. An ominous tingling all through his body, and the feeling of something slowly creeping up behind him, sending shivers through his form. Something’s going on.
His body reacts wildly, keenly looking around the alley complex he’s in until he notices a small group of people cornering another figure, about half a mile away. The feeling races through him again, and he frowns, unused to something this strong. A feeling like this doesn’t come when the problem’s small. At first glance, it looks like a normal mugging, but he just knows it’s something worse. Even so, Jeongin can’t waste time thinking about it. Directing a web towards the rough back of one of the alleys, he jumps off the building he’s on, making his way to the alley. It’ll take him about fifteen seconds to get there.
“Dwaekki, analyze the situation for me,” Jeongin whispers into his suit, waiting for the virtual assistant to respond.
“Six men around the perimeter, two of them are armed,” Dwaekki responds in a robotic—yet somewhat human—voice, a zoomed-in version of the group entering Jeongin’s vision. They’re all dressed in dark red coats, masks covering the bottom half of their faces.
“Who are they cornering?” Jeongin quickly asks, swinging over the jagged edges of what looks like an old bank.
“It looks like—Hwang Hyunjin?” Dwaekki asks, an outline of the man in question popping up in front of Jeongin. Narrowing his eyes, Jeongin looks further into the scene, the quality slowly improving as he gets closer.
“ Fuck , it is,” Jeongin curses, increasing his speed. Why would there be someone after Hyunjin, of all people– especially people that seemed like they were from an underground group? For all he knew, the boy was relatively normal in terms of society, albeit a bit rich.
“Fuck, indeed. It doesn’t look like he’s been physically attacked in any way, though. The armed men are in the back, and there only seems to be a conversation going on. There’s no predicting what’s going to happen next, though. From what I know, Hyunjin doesn’t have any reason to be followed like this. Unless–”
“Can you identify the people cornering him? There’s something off about this.” Jeongin interrupts, refusing to think about what Dwaekki could mean. There’s some part of him that might have an inkling, but he shelves that part of him away—for now.
“Already on it. It looks like they’re—
shit
.”
The wind whips at Jeongin harder as he vaults through the alleys, feet pushing off any surface possible. “What is it? What happened? Who are they?”
“Jeongin-ssi, they have explosives. I can’t tell for sure, we’re too far, but the case definitely looks like that of a bomb.”
Eyes widening, Jeongin vaults forward, the scene in front of him slowly getting bigger and bigger. The moonlight barely illuminates the alley, bouncing off the flyers of some missing teen boy, and Jeongin has to ask Dwaekki for a brighter image—the alley’s smaller than he thought. That’s going to be useful—the men in red will have a harder time escaping. Of course, he’s going to have to be more careful while fighting, but Jeongin doesn’t want to think about a high-scale fight. He plans to quickly incapacitate the men, and get Hyunjin out of there safely. Softly landing on a dark green dumpster behind the men, he takes in the situation. Everything seems to have quieted down, except for faint sounds in the background. Jeongin barely catches the tail-end of an aggressive question from one of the masked figures, intimidating Hyunjin with their tone. He can’t see Hyunjin well, but the other man is backing down, clearly wide-eyed.
“Dwaekki, can you hear what they’re saying?”
“
Barely, Jeongin-ssi. We came a bit too late—all I heard was the last part of a sentence. It’s probable they’re using silence to intimidate him.”
It’s a tiny alley, both sides covered by brick and concrete walls. It’s about forty feet, mainly empty except for trash cans at both ends and small amounts of litter strewn near the edges. The men are positioned on the offensive, the two men he knows are armed evident as they stand in the back, the outline of a gun in their pockets visible.
“Jeongin-ssi, the bomb’s with the man in the front,” Dwaekki informs, and a red pointer appears on the man closest to Hyunjin. If Jeongin tilts his head just a bit, he can see the edge of the wires lacing out from the man’s arm, a detonator clutched in his right hand. From what he can tell, it seems to have been a couple of minutes since this began, judging by the fact that Hyunjin isn’t hurt. That doesn’t seem to last for long, though. The man begins signalling with his free hand to another lackey to his side, surrounding Hyunjin, and they begin grasping his hands behind his back, obviously in a ploy to capture him, and Jeongin’s heart drops—they weren’t just threatening him, they were trying to take him.
“Physical restraint initiated. Jeongin-ssi, it’s escalating fast.”
Jeongin needs to move, now. The only issue: he needs to get the bomb out.
Hyunjin seems to be slowly backing towards the other side of the alley, eyes widened in fear. His mouth’s moving, and Jeongin can make out him saying something along the lines of “I really don’t know,” as Jeongin moves into the small sliver of moonlight shining onto the trash can. Jeongin’s sure his silhouette can be seen now, and his thoughts are only confirmed when he sees Hyunjin’s eyes widen. He presses an index finger to his lips, about to when a voice interrupts him.
“Spiderman. What a wonderful surprise. It’s so nice to see you, especially when I know you so well. ”
Jeongin’s heard those words somewhere before. He’s heard that very recently. This isn’t sitting well with him. He needs a plan. He needs time. He needs to stall .
“I’m assuming you’re the person with a kink for metal Shreks. Trust me, they don’t make very good toys in the bed.” Jeongin shoots out, head darting from left to right as he scans the area for more threats.
“You’re close to this man, aren’t you?” The form responds, gesturing with the detonator towards Hyunjin. They have a relatively high-pitched voice, tinged with a raspy tone. “It’s helpful, really—we’re killing two birds with one stone.”
Widening his eyes, Jeongin pales. He has to keep Hyunjin safe, under all circumstances. He can’t afford to lose him now.
" Dwaekki, run a voice recognition, ” he whispers, watching gears appear on his screen, turning at his command. He decides not to answer the figure—it’d only give them more information.
“Ah, so I guess you are ,” he Jeongin says instead, referring to his first comment. As he’s talking, he’s formulating a plan in his mind—get the detonator out first, go for the armed men next, and get Hyunjin out right after. It’s the only way to keep Hyunjin as safe as possible– he needs to get the weapons out first and incapacitate the people right after.
“I’d be careful about what you say, Spiderman. After all, words are our undoing.” The man’s face stretches into a sick smile, and he settles himself into a basic battle stance, one Jeongin’s learned many years before in training.
Huffing, Jeongin steadies himself. Rolling back his shoulders, he cracks his neck identically readying himself for a fight. He feels something coming over him, and he recognizes that as the thrill of battle. Grinning, he launches himself forward, a grunt escaping from his mouth.
Everything slows down.
Shooting two webs at the figure in the front, he swings into action, wringing the detonator out of his hands. Pulling it towards himself, he launches off the brick wall on the right, tossing the detonator with his right hand to the top of the right building, shielding it with a reasonable layer of webbing. He simultaneously shoots strings of webs at the man in the front and the two armed figures, knocking them against each other. He’s in the heat of battle now, throwing kicks and punches at the assailants around him.
“Dwaekki. Keep an eye on Hyunjin—what’s his state?” He asks as he barely misses a punch to his left.
“He’s hiding behind the trashcan at the far end. Smart boy. The closest assailant to him’s webbed up and turned, so I don’t think he’s in much danger.”
Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Jeongin sighs, letting his guard down momentarily. Hyunjin’s fine, he’s out of immediate danger, he won’t die, and—
Wincing at a particularly good jab to his stomach, he doubles over for half a second, shooting another string of web with his right hand, managing to knock the mask off a girl in front of him. Right. He’s still fighting. Sending out a few final webs, he looks around him, all six of the attackers down for now. Slowly walking towards the other side of the alley, he breaks into a swing, webs attaching to both sides of the alley until he’s perched upon the trashcan Hyunjin’s shielding himself behind. Jeongin extends a hand out to him, a reassuring tone evident in his voice when he says “Hey, it’s okay.” When Hyunjin takes his hand, he’s sure his brain goes into overload, the over-sensitized fabric of his suit taking in Hyunjin’s warmth. Leading Hyunjin around the trash cans, he’s about to tell Dwaekki to call the police—but a laugh interrupts him.
“This isn’t over, Yang Jeongin.”
Jeongin’s blood runs cold.
_
“ How — ” Jeongin whispers, stiffening at the man’s words. He looks back at Hyunjin, wide-eyed, and Jeongin has the feeling he’s just given himself away. Jeongin has always been particularly expressive, even under his mask. The man with the raspy tone’s slumped against the alley wall, head tilted back toward the night sky. His shoulder shakes as he chuckles lowly, and Jeongin gets the feeling his eyes are everywhere at once. Hyunjin’s seem to have permanently widened, remaining silent as Jeongin pushes Hyunjin behind him.
Letting go of Hyunjin’s hand, he only has a few seconds to miss the warmth when Dwaekki’s voice blares in his head. “Jeongin-ssi, he has a — ”
Smoke .
It’s covering them all, and Jeongin makes a wild grasp for Hyunjin’s form, letting out a breath of relief when he feels the familiar warmth. He sends out rounds of webs all around them, the bottoms of his lips quirking downwards when they don’t make any contact. Pulling Hyunjin towards him, Jeongin looks around in desperation, the cloudy smoke blending with the bleak darkness to paint a murky, dull picture. He can’t see much, besides the fact that the attackers are gone, the fallen silhouettes gone. It was never a bomb, only a sort of smoke signal disguised as one. Frowning again, he turns around, coming face-to-face with Hyunjin.
“Hyunjin-ssi, is—is everything alright?” Hyunjin simply gawks back at him, head moving up and down in a limp imitation of a nod. He doesn’t think he’ll be getting any responses soon, so Jeongin briefly looks over Hyunjin’s lean body, checking for any signs of injuries. Jeongin’s still shorter, so he has to go on his tiptoes to check for any major injuries, and he ignores the nagging feeling of butterflies fluttering at the back of his head. There are more pressing matters: his identity isn’t a secret, and the people that know it are after Hyunjin. Keeping his eyes trained on Hyunjin, he tells Dwaekki to scan the area, trusting Dwaekki’s capabilities in a situation like this better than his own. Once he receives the all-clear, he speaks to Hyunjin again, tightening his hold on Hyunjin’s shoulders.
“Hyunjin-ssi, hold on tight.”
The only response he gets is Hyunjin’s hands fastening onto his shoulders, the warmth spreading through both of their bodies. Momentarily freezing, Jeongin stares at the beautiful face in front of him, forgetting the situation at hand. It’s only when Hyunjin imperceptibly raises his eyebrows that Jeongin remembers where he is, shuffling a bit to allow Hyunjin to move his hands onto his waist. The feeling’s different, and Jeongin’s half-afraid he’ll turn to dust with the way Hyunjin’s looking at him. He has to shake his head to get the thought out of his head, sending a couple of webs up, launching them upwards into the sky. It’s always a wonderful feeling flying with his webs, but Jeongin doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse with Hyunjin. Jeongin feels lighter than ever, but he knows that he’ll lose control if he doesn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. The thought of smashing into a building wall sobers him up, and he successfully launches them both to the low building where he placed the detonator. It’s darker now, the night sky almost pitch black. The moon is barely visible under the clouds, and Jeongin takes in a deep breath, taking in a pleasant mix of the night air and Hyunjin’s scent. Soon, Jeongin’s able to let go of Hyunjin (not without extreme complaint from the part of him that wanted to keep himself attached) and grabs the webbed detonator, Hyunjin at his feet.
Hyunjin stares. Not in awe. Not even in fear. Just… confusion. Like the pieces don’t fit together.
“You’re kidding,” he says, finally. His voice is quieter than Jeongin expects. “You’re Spider-Man?”
Jeongin doesn’t respond. Not really. He just lets the silence say it for him.
Hyunjin blinks, then takes a step back. “You’re… the guy who spills milk tea on his sheet music in the café. The one who almost face-planted into a vending machine two weeks ago. From Ms.Shin’s third grade.”
Jeongin winces. “That was one time.”
“I barely know you.” The words fall out flat. Honest. “You’re Felix’s neighbor. We’ve barely had a real conversation.”
“I know,” Jeongin says. And then, because he has nothing else to offer: “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Hyunjin drags a hand through his hair, pacing a few feet away before turning back around. “But it did happen. And now I’ve been chased through an alley by guys with fake bombs, kidnapped to a lab, and told I might have to keep your secret?”
“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” Jeongin says quietly. “But they knew who I was. And they used you to get to me. I didn’t have a choice.”
Hyunjin exhales harshly. “Yeah, well neither did I.”
And that hangs there for a while—heavy and uncomfortable—before he looks down at his hands, still slightly trembling. “Just… don’t expect me to be cool with this. I need a second to figure out what the hell I just got pulled into.”
Jeongin nods once. “I… get that. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” He doesn’t really… know what to say to Hyunjin, terrified of both embarrassing himself more and the potential danger they both might be in, tapping two fingers onto his mask, instead.
He pointedly ignores Hyunjin’s questioning face when he calls for Dwaekki, moving his free hand to the small bulge of the earpiece that protrudes from his mask. “ Dwaekki , call Minho-hyung . Forward all necessary information to him. ” The sound of an electronic beep reaches his ears, the trilling noise of a phone following soon after.
Minho responds within the first few rings, and Jeongin places a finger to his lips, hoping Hyunjin gets the message. “Hyung?” Jeongin asks, once he’s sure Minho can hear him.
“How’s my favorite Spiderman doing? In the middle of the night, too?” A groggy voice responds from the phone, tired tone laced with inquiry. Honestly, Jeongin’s surprised Minho isn’t screaming at him like he usually does when Jeongin makes one of his night calls. He’s only a couple years older, but he acts like Jeongin’s mother in his actions.
The young fianceé of the one of the biggest technology engineers in the country— who’s also Jeongin’s boss—Minho’s made a worldwide name for himself in the cooking industry, and he’s a brilliant logistician as well, often working as the brains behind Jeongin’s tasks as the masked hero.
“Hyung, I need you to pick us up,” Jeongin responds, skipping any formalities. The rush catches up to him, and Jeongin’s exhausted, confused, and done . His shoulders slump, and he can feel a few bruises forming where he hadn’t protected himself too well. He needs to get to Chan’s lab as soon as possible and needs to explain the situation to him. He doesn’t have the patience to swing to the lab, and god knows he doesn’t have the patience to figure out whatever shit he’s wrapped up in. He doesn’t know how he would survive ten minutes wrapped against Hyunjin, either.
“Is everything okay?”
Minho’s light voice responds, an undertone of worry present. “
It’s past midnight. What happened?”
Time flew by fast. Jeongin looks up at the night sky, catching just the lightest of stars in his eyes. He lets out a heavy sigh and responds to Minho. “I fought today. Things… aren’t going well. I have a civilian with me—we need to bring him to Chan.”
Hyunjin startles at this, turning around from his perch on the building. “Chan? Who’s Chan? Where am I going?” Jeongin simply sighs, avoiding Hyunjin’s narrowed gaze. He has his mask on, but Jeongin still feels like Hyunjin knows where he’s looking.
“We just need to know about the situation you were in,” he tells the other, “and… about the secrets you might have to keep.”
Hyunjin frowns at this, but turns back around—maybe it’s because Jeongin’s painted himself as someone the city can rely on.
Jeongin wouldn’t lay a hand on Hyunjin, though.
“Secrets? What secrets?” Minho asks, “Where are you?”
Jeongin quickly tells Dwaekki to send him his location, and answers Minho with a brief “I’ll tell you once we reach headquarters.”
He hears the line go dead, and after ensuring that Minho’ll be here in less than five minutes, he sits down next to Hyunjin on the edge of the building, joining him in his starry pursuit as both their legs dangle off the rift. Jeongin exhales. “Why were those men after you?”
Hyunjin simply chokes out a laugh, tilting his head upwards. “My dad isn’t home—neither is my mom, really. They leave almost everything to the staff—and these men, whoever they were, have met up with them before. At least, from what I’ve seen, they definitely have. I was just out, on a walk—”
“In the middle of the night?” Jeongin interjects, letting out a disbelieving breath.
“— on a walk ,” Hyunjin continues, emphasizing his words, obviously hiding something. “And I was cornered by them. They wanted something from me, but honestly, I had no idea what they were talking about. I think some serious shit was about to go down, but then…” Hyunjin gestures at Jeongin, face set into an obvious expression.
Jeongin lightly laughs without any humour, sweat building up underneath his mask. Hyunjin was attacked because of Jeongin—and that meant someone was keeping tabs on him, analyzing his relationships and using it to their advantage.
Then again, the cloaked man had said something about “two birds”—there was a possibility Hyunjin was of some use to them too, what with the secrets his parents must be keeping as they gallivanted across the world.
“What—what’s going on? What’s gonna happen now?” Hyunjin’s voice is hesitant, yet carries an undertone of aggression.
Jeongin only responds with a long sigh that fades to silence, legs swaying as he minutely scans the area below him for any signs of the cloaked attackers—even though he knows they’re long gone.