Chapter Text
It looked beautiful. The soft sky, the one filled with hints of blue and pink. Miles thought as he sat on the edge of the clock tower. His arms were so sore, everytime he would move slightly and a sharp pain creeped through, stunning his body and making him hiss. Things felt different now. Miles wasn’t the same person. At least he didn’t feel the same.
It takes one too many life threatening situations to actually appreciate it.
It’d been a few years since then. His mom and dad were okay. Spot was defeated and life seemed to go back to the way it was. He made new friends but it was pointless. Not like they visited him anyway. A heavy sigh left his mouth. Gwen hadn’t said anything about what happened between them. She came by and apologized for what happened to him. But not about what she did. That was the last time he saw her.
Sad part. He still loved her. And that made him angry.
She lied, she hurt him, and left him in the dust. But the feeling he gets when he was around her doesn’t go away. A part of Miles just never wants to see her again but the other doesn’t want to let her go. Her soft smile, the giggles that leave her, those water colored blue eyes.
He doesn’t want to let go.
Miles managed to get up, despite the strong reactions coming from his body. He’ll sleep it off.
At least he hopes too.
——
“Miles!”
…
“Miles!”
…
His eyes open slowly, shutting for a couple seconds then heavy stomps approaching wake them wide open.
“Miles, mijo! Do you know where I left my glasses?”
A rain of groans croak out. His eyes scrunched together, blinded by the bright light above his head.
His mom, Rio, starts rummaging through his desk, drawers, anywhere she thought something would have been left.
Then a sketchbook falls from the desk and onto the floor.
Silence flooded the room from the hard thud. She looked at him then back at the book.
Fuck
Miles doesn’t know how but something unleashed in his mother. Like she’d been struck by lightning and gotten an energy boost or something.
She grabbed the sketchbook faster than he could blink. And of course she starts flipping through the pages.
“Jaja Miles, didn’t know you took your art so seriously.”
Her grin slowly turned into an expression of confusion, and then turned into anger.
“Ayy hijo, you actually think about this girl so much, you start to draw her?!” She said, shutting the book and placing it on his desk.
Miles had long ago died from embarrassment, his hands covering his face. He knows his mami doesn’t approve of Gwen, mostly due to the fact he completely went ghost for a couple days when he went after her.
Rio wasn’t angry though, just disappointed.
She walked out the door, dodging the stacked boxes laid out in his room whilst slamming the door at the same time.
Miles was still staying home after graduating but soon moving into his new apartment to stay while in college. A place he’ll finally have at least some privacy..
——
After his daily shift of fighting bad guys, well more or less just punks looking for a quick buck, Miles stops by the clock tower like he always does. He hangs his legs on the edge and spreads his arms to the side of his thighs. He doesn’t know when it started but this is his routine now.
Miles just stares at the sky waiting till it sets.
It’s peaceful.
The birds chirping, flying from above. He can see the crescent moon from here even though it’s still daylight, and fantasizes about sitting on it with a fishing rod in his arms.
“You’re awfully quiet eh.” A strong British accent from behind him spoke.
Miles jumps and turns around to see a familiar black figure on the opposite side of him. He could see the back of his head, puffy in the shape of wicks.
“Thought you’d be quite the chatter-box, bruv.”
“Hobie.” Miles says with his face scrunched together in confusion.
So many questions ran through his mind but he could only focus on those piercing eyes staring back at him.
“I- uh- wh- what-“ He stammered. What was this kid doing here? He barely knew Hobie and only talked to him a couple times. The most shocking part is that Hobie visited before Gwen did.
Hobie didn’t respond, he just got up, put his mask back on and leaped off the tower. It startled Miles. Took him a while to get the memo since he was just staring in shock for a few seconds before he tripped trying to do the same thing. Hobie traveled swiftly through the tall buildings, Miles right behind him. The duo pass by throughout the city, and eventually Hobie stops between an alley.
He takes off his mask and shoves it in his pocket, then turns around to face Miles. His face is full of sadness, but mostly from regret or guilt. Hobie’s back is slouched, his arms on his sides, eyebrows furrowed. Then it softens. He moves out the way and leans against the wall.
The air filled with tension. It’s practically suffocating Miles. His chest rises up and down as he struggles to breathe. Something didn’t feel right.
There, Miles can see Gwen, sitting on a barrel with Pavitr beside her. Her fingers are laced and head in between her legs. She looks up at him with tears in her eyes and her teeth biting her lip. Her hair had grown back to its original length when he first met her. If not a bit longer. She gets up and runs to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She squeezes tightly and murmurs muffled sounds. Miles felt his suit start to get a little soaked.
“I-I’m so so sorry, Miles..” She yelps as she backs off from him.
“I didn’t k-know how to-, I’m- I couldn’t-“ Miles wraps his arms around her, embracing her for the first time in forever. Without words, they spoke to each other. Not sure how but it felt good.
They stood there for a bit before parting. The years of anger and fury had been released. He understands.
Hobie leans forward and walks toward Miles, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.
“Well how bout that, aren’t we chuffed, mates?” He says. His demeanor completely changed from sluking to upbeat. Like this was the thing he awaited for. But Miles could tell there was a hint of passive aggressiveness in his voice. His grip on Miles’ shoulder tightens as he looks down at him.
Miles had never paid much attention to Hobie, other than finding him annoying. But he doesn’t hate the guy. He helped him when no one else did. A stranger he just met was helping more than the people he thought he knew. Miles looked up at Hobie. He noticed the hints of blue and pink from the sky hit his face. The colors shined beautifully against his dark skin. Hobie’s silver piercings turned the same colors, sparkling into Miles’ eyes. He stared at Hobie, almost mesmerized by the sight he was seeing. His sharp cheeks and jawline, full dark lips that looked so so soft. Miles’ was staring so deeply that he could see his own reflection in those pitch black eyes.
Wouldn’t Hobie be fun to draw hm.
“Yo, you good?” Hobie asked.
“Oh- heh yea, my fault dude.” He mutters out. Miles was just deep in thought.
He always is.
“Sooo, some grub then? Sounds calm?”
“I saw this taco truck on the way here! Maybe it’s still open or something.” Pavitr exclaims like he’s been thinking about it the whole time they were here.
His excited and energized voice loosens the tension still present.
Well tacos do sound good.
—-
They found some worn out jackets to put over their suits in a dumpster. It smelled a bit weird and people probably thought they were homeless or something but nonetheless comfy. The group walk together through the block as night falls. The building lights shine, car lights shine brighter. Chatter and honks tune in and tune out through Miles’ ears. All he can think about is that arm wrapped around his shoulder.
Eventually they hear the loud Spanish music from the speakers around the food truck. It seems busy and filled with other groups. His thoughts stop as a set of lips touch his ear, whispering in it. A piercing pinches his ear in the process.
“Find us a table won’t you lad.”
Pavitr went to order for all of them, Hobie following alongside him. The warmth around his upper body disappears and he’s a bit saddened by it. Miles and Gwen squeeze their bodies through the crowds of people and find an empty table, sitting on its cold metal seats. The chilly feeling went straight to Miles’ ass. Ouchy
It was still a bit awkward between him and Gwen, even though they technically “made up”. Miles had a lot of questions but no answers.
“So uhm Gwen, why’d you never come visit, it seems like you three have been together for a while.” He chuckles. It was meant to be a joke but you could hear the hurt in his voice.
“Miles.., it’s eh complicated. You’re my friend..and I just didn’t know how to see you again after what I did. I know how much I hurt you and I’m really sorry. I happen to now gain the courage to do something I should’ve done sooner..” She slurs her words as she rubs her hand in her neck. Nervous about saying the wrong thing.
Their eyes lock, sad but soft. A smile creeps up from the corner of Miles’ mouth.
Suddenly a slurp of a drink and large gulps interrupts the moment Miles is having.
“Ain’t that cute, innit. Hush the pissy fit and let’s enjoy ourselves!” Hobie shouts, sitting or better yet slamming himself on the seat, stretching his arms, and leaning against it. If people didn’t think they were homeless crackheads, they sure do now.
Pavitr comes back, holding a tray filled with tacos and a smaller plate with nachos with one hand and the other with a cup holder with 2 drinks.
“Bon appétit!!” He said whilst laughing.
Miles realizes his beverage wasn’t in there. Hobie had his and Pavitr and Gwen had snatched the remaining two faster than he realized it was there.
“Yo, where’s my drink?” He says in confusion.
“Right here lad. Thought you noticed.” Hobie replies. He puts the drink on the table and slides it towards Miles. His eyes turn like siren and a smirk plasters on the punk's face.
Whatever
“Uhm Miles, do you happen to have some cash..? We didn’t bring much.” Pavi chuckles nervously.
Miles sighs, handing him his wallet. “On me man.”
——
He said his goodbyes and went back home after eating. The trio promised to stop by the next day to hang out but Miles doesn’t know if he can believe that just yet.
He opens the already slightly opened window to his room from the outside and climbs in. A hard thump sound ammits from the floor as he rolls his way through the floor. Miles is so tired and aching. That’s everyday really, sore. He changes from his spider suit to some sweats and a t-shirt.
His body landed on the twin bed, face forward with groans coming out of his pillow. He tries to fall asleep but can’t. There’s a voice in his head that can’t seem to stop talking. Miles isn’t schizophrenic, he swears.
An urge is piercing his lungs and mind, making it impossible to think of anything else. A deep, musky voice echoes through his head. Flashes of slender ring full hands, a tall figure practically towering over him, and the sweet smell of cigarettes and candy fill his nose. All his five senses are activated and encapsulated by such a strong force. His heart beats faster, his cheeks are flushed, he feels so damn hot. It’s an uncomfortable feeling and he can’t handle it.
Miles leaps off his bed and rummages through his drawers like a mad man. He’s heaving, looking for a way to express his feelings. He grabs the thick sketchbook he hasn’t touched in a while and opens it to a random empty page. A pen somehow finds his hand.
And he just goes insane.
Sketched, scratched lines fill the page. He bites his lip and starts tearing up. Why can’t he make this feeling stop? It’s too much, so overwhelming that it exhausts him.
He draws until he feels like his hands go numb. He would until they would bleed. He looks down at the drawing he just made, and sighs, slamming it shut.
Hobie’s black eyes staring back at him is all he can see when he closes his eyes.
Like cotton candy skies.
——