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Ryuji reached his limit.
It had been months of the same situation repeating itself over and over and over again. It always goes like this: Akira and him make plans, Akira swears on his life to actually be there this time, then proceeds to leave Ryuji waiting for around an hour until he gets tired and calls him, only to be sent straight to voicemail after a couple of seconds. However, Ryuji is nothing but determined and loyal, and even if the lateness of his best friend and crush gets on his nerves on a daily basis, he loves him too much to get back home without at least hearing Akira’s half-baked excuses and, at least, sincere apologies.
He’d give him those big, sad eyes of his, along with that stupidly cute pout that makes him look more innocent than he really is, and Ryuji is a weak, weak man, so damn weak he falls for it every single time.
Except this time, the guy crossed a line.
They promised to take Futaba to Akihabara to fetch some good deals in computer components she saw announced on her socials, begging them both to go with her. Things were going as well as Ryuji thought they could be, with Akira nowhere in sight but a happy Futaba dragging him all around the place and talking his ears off in a techie frenzy. He wondered how she could be so happy even when her adoptive older brother basically ditched them without a heads up (again), but the younger girl always changed the subject when he tried to bring it up. Maybe she didn’t care, or maybe she deliberately pretended not to, and tried not to show how it really affected her.
Futaba was pretty hard to read, to be honest.
It was a good day, regardless of the absence of his best friend, until, of course, things started to go south.
One moment Futaba was convincing him to enter yet another store when he noticed how panicked the people around them looked. Soon there was a stream of people rushing inside stores or trying to get out of the shopping district, shoving and pushing them around until Ryuji lost Futaba.
Scared out of his mind but not letting fear paralyze him, he dove into the horde of terrorized citizens, screaming his friend’s name, trying to locate her with no avail. He could hear gunshots and alarm sirens going off all around him as he searched. There was a brief moment of relief, knowing the police were there, but the anxiety returned as he realized they were here because something big had to be going on. Before he could even begin to wonder what in hell was happening, there was a tug at the back of his neck, and something cold and hard pushing against his temple.
“Not a step closer, or the kid gets it!” It was a stranger's voice, a man screaming right in his ear, restraining him from behind with an arm around his neck and…
And a gun. On his head.
Holy shit. He cursed internally as he began to struggle against the man’s grip by pure instinct. The stranger only tightened his hold on his neck, making it hard to breathe.
This is it, he thought, some lowlife was going to blow his brains out and for what? A robbery? It was effin’ bullshit.
His guts were filled with fire-hot indignation and desperation. He refused to go out like this but there was not a lot he could do. Rage and devastation washed over him all at the same time, but just when his vision began to get blurry by tears and the lack of oxygen in his lungs, he heard a loud smacking sound right where his captor kept barking not to get closer like a broken record.
He scrambled forwards, panting and coughing, disoriented for a few seconds but aware of the danger at his back. He turned around, watching the man with the gun tearing something off his face, a transparent-white substance that kinda looked like…
Spider webs?
Before he could think anymore about it the criminal’s glare zeroed on him, and pointed his gun at him. He tried to get up but of course his damn knee chose that exact moment to give in, hurting like hell, and completely unresponsive.
“That’s it!” The man roared, ready to pull the trigger.
The next few seconds went by in a blurr. He closed his eyes, but heard the detonation, opening them again when he realized he felt no pain or a bullet go through his head like he was fully expecting. Throwing a glance at the criminal, he did feel his blood run cold, noticing why he wasn’t dead at this point.
Futaba was in front of him, holding the man’s arm down with all the strength she could muster, her mouth open wide and- oh, she was screaming. Screaming in pain.
A figure then dropped from the skies as Futaba fell to the floor. Ryuji crawled as fast as he could towards her, the pain of his knee falling into the back of his mind as he saw the blood flowing from her thigh.
“Apply pressure to the wound!” A voice that sounded so much like Akira shouted, a trick of his mind surely, because oh how he wished his best friend were there in that moment. He always knew what to do, always knew how to calm Futaba down, what to say and how to say it, to make everything right again.
But he wasn’t here, another stranger in a spandex dark suit telling him what to do instead, as Futaba bled and bled and bled.
He finally sprang into action as he realized the new stranger was fighting the man with the gun, and that said stranger was no other than the one and only Phantom-Spider, also known as Spider-Man, the coolest superhero in the city.
The guy began showing up roughly nine or ten months ago, fighting crime with spiderwebs and some incredible acrobatics that reminded him a lot of what Sumire did in those gymnastics competitions. Ryuji was honestly a big fan of his, along with Akira, and if the situation wasn’t as dire as it was, he’d be absolutely fanboying over him.
As he applied pressure on Futaba’s wound with his shirt, he numbly thought about how Akira would react later, when he told him he actually met their favorite hero. If he were there he could have gotten an autograph or something, but again, if Akira were there maybe none of this would have happened. He would have taken them out of danger in that cool, calm and collected way of his, keeping them safe somehow. That was just who he was, a leader through and through.
“Let me help,” suddenly Phantom-Spider was at his side, his deep, slightly trembling voice taking Ryuji out of his head. With his webs, he wrapped Futaba’s thigh along with Ryuji’s yellow tank top in some kind of improvised bandage, and the blonde couldn’t help but notice the worried glances he kept throwing them both, even behind the mask.
Only then he became aware of the relative calmness of their surroundings. There were people stuck into the walls with spiderwebs, including the scumbag that shot Futaba, and police officers helping the public as they secured the zone.
“Spider-Man,” a woman approached them, making Ryuji flinch. He had heard that voice before, when the gang gathered at Makoto's house to study and her older sister scolded them for being too loud. Officer Sae Niijima stared at them, a phone in her hand. “Saving the day once again,” she said in a condescending tone.
Not lifting his gaze from Futaba’s thankfully no longer bleeding wound, the hero responded dryly. “She needs medical attention.”
“None of your usual sass this time, huh?” Niijima scoffed, rolling her eyes at the way Phantom-Spider glared at her. “An ambulance is on its way. Sakamoto,” he jumped as she addressed him, half expecting her to pretend not to know them, as professional as she was. “You’ll go with her when it’s here.”
He scowled. “Y-You don’t need to tell me.”
“Good,” she nodded, focusing her attention on Phantom-Spider once again. “You’re under arrest, for meddling in police operations and private property destruction.”
Ryuji couldn’t help the way he intervened. “What?! Are you effin’ nuts?! He just saved us!”
But he was soon stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are we doing this every time we meet, officer?” The hero asked.
“Vigilantism is a crime,” she said, and it looked like she repeated that exact same phrase enough times for Phantom-Spider to scoff at it.
“Let me make sure these two are okay and then you can try to capture me,” his previous nervousness was nowhere to be seen, talking with full confidence like he wasn’t being threatened with arrest of all things.
Officer Niijima looked this close to drawing her own gun, but honestly, Ryuji would jump between the two of them if that meant letting their hero go; fresh, recent trauma be damned.
“We’ll… we’ll be fine, idiot,” he heard Futaba struggle to say, interrupting the conversation with her voice hoarse from all her screaming, cheeks wet with tears of pain. The vigilante’s attention zeroed on her immediately. “Go.”
“But-”
“Ryuji is dependable enough, right?” She slapped his arm weakly.
Ryuji took her hand, giving Phantom-Spider a look he hoped conveyed how seriously he took taking care of his friend. “Right.”
The vigilante kept quiet after that, the eyes of his mask, surrounded by a nice and sleek white design, squinting down at them. He looked physically unable to leave their side, like it pained him greatly to do so, but maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part.
“As touching as this is, you’re not going anywhere,” Niijima did finally take out her gun, pointing at Spider-Man seconds after, or at least, trying to do so. The guy got out of harm’s way easily enough.
“Get home safe!” And if the situation hadn’t been emotional and physically draining, Ryuji would have laughed at how much that sounded like Akira’s unique brand of mother hen-ing. Soon the superhero disappeared among the buildings, swinging away from them.
Fast-Forward to the present, Ryuji sat on Akira’s bed in Leblanc's attic, after dropping Futaba at home and getting permission from the Boss to stay and wait for his best friend.
His best friend, who hadn’t picked up his phone all afternoon, or given any signs of life. His calls kept going into voicemail, his messages unread and unanswered, and none of his friends knew anything about him.
When they got out of the hospital half an hour ago he read on the internet that terrorist events like the one Futaba and he just experienced were happening all over the city. What if Akira was caught in one of them? What if someone held him hostage but wasn’t as lucky as him? What if Phantom-Spider didn’t get him in time?
And if he was okay, why wasn’t he here? Here with Futaba? With him?
He felt Morgana jump into his lap, gently headbutting his palm in a weirdly affectionate gesture, as Akira’s cat usually hated his guts. Maybe he was worried, too. Ryuji gave him some half-hearted pets, lying down on his friend’s bed. The lights were off, feeling sort of comfortable watching the darkness of the evening cover the room little by little. Morgana started to doze on his chest, and he was just about to do the same, exhausted by the day he had, when he heard the window slide open.
At first he thought he was dreaming, still walking in that fine line that divided sleep from consciousness, because there was a large, dark figure climbing on the ceiling, a figure that couldn’t be other than Phantom-Spider, with his classy mask on, red gloves and that coattail-like cape he wore that would absolutely look ridiculous on anyone else but him. A dream it had to be, otherwise, what in the world was the hero of the moment doing in Akira's room?
Once he realized that, no, this wasn’t a dream and Spider-effin’-man was actually there, he sat up slowly, cradling Morgana against his chest as the cat kept sleeping soundly. The hero looked hurt, judging by the way he straight-up dropped into the floor face down, panting and grunting. Maybe he thought the attic was empty, why should someone be living here of all places, after all? Maybe this was a place he could recover in before Akira moved, without Sojiro being none the wiser.
Or… Maybe Akira actually knew the guy? If he did, he was sooo going to give him shit for it. Like, Ryuji could have gotten an actual autograph and Akira never told him? Not cool, man.
His inner ramblings were interrupted, however, as Spider-Man removed his mask, letting a familiar mop of curly, fluffy locks spill out of it. His heart stopped, and when Spider-Man sat up and stretched, groaning in a voice Ryuji knew all too well, he was able to see his profile.
Pale skin, beautiful gray eyes framed by long eyelashes, a straight, cute, button nose…
“Holy. Shit.”
Akira turned around, scrambling on the floor and instinctively raising his wrists up, ready to shoot webs out of them. Ryuji didn’t even react at that, too shocked to do or say anything.
“Ryuji?” Akira breathed out, his chest rising and falling quickly, lowering his arms as he stared at the blonde. “Wh-What are you…?”
“You’re Phantom-Spider,” Ryuji mumbled. “You’re effin’ Spider-Man.”
Everything made sense, then. Back at his hostage situation, when he thought he was just imagining things and missing Akira a little bit too much, it was actually Akira who was talking to him, protecting them.
“D-Don’t panic- agh-” he tried to stand up, reaching a hand out for Ryuji, but his legs gave out, forcing him to go down again. The blonde was by his side in an instant, leaving the cat on the bed carelessly. “Please, just-”
His eyes were filled with tears, whether they were of pain or mortification Ryuji couldn’t tell, but he still held him. They knelt on the floor, embracing each other because it seemed there was nothing else they could think of doing at the moment. Akira cried silently, Ryuji was sure of it, he didn’t need to look to know his friend was a mess of anxiety and fear. He knew him too well… or did he?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the first thing he could say, voice strangled and barely any louder than a whisper.
Akira sniffled for the first time. “Is too dangerous.”
“All those times…” He trailed off. All those times he was late, all those times he couldn’t make it, all those times he gave him half-assed excuses… “It was because of this, wasn’t it?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” he said. “I can’t- I can’t lose you.”
Ryuji had no idea why telling him his secret would mean he would lose him, but then Akechi came to his mind. The Detective Prince was always talking shit about Spider-Man on TV, but they had also worked together in the past. It was clear Akechi didn’t approve of the Phantom-Spider methods, but claimed they could collaborate when the situation called for it.
Ryuji didn’t get why Akira was friends with the guy, as he was against all he believed, but Akira said their discussions on the matter were often very entertaining. It didn’t sit well with him, both because Akechi didn’t give him a good vibe and because it seemed like those two hung out more than Akira did with Ryuji.
His jealousy was replaced with sorrow when Goro Akechi went missing three months ago. Akira was devastated, and still was, but Ryuji never imagined it was something this… big.
“‘Kira,” he held his friend tighter, not knowing what else to say.
“I can’t lose you, too,” he sobbed, hugging Ryuji closer still.
“Hey, shh, you won’t,” the blonde shushed him, running a hand through his hair. Akira smelled like sweat, blood and now tears, and Ryuji couldn’t even imagine the kind of day he just had. The kind of year he was having, actually. “I’m tougher than that, man.”
“I almost lost you today, almost lost Futaba,” he kept going.
Ryuji broke their embrace, holding his friend on an arm’s length as he looked him in the eye. He looked tired, older and younger at the same time. “But you saved us.”
“I-”
“You saved us, you were there on time. If it wasn’t for you, who knows what could have happened,” he reassured him. “You were so cool out there, ‘Kira.”
“Aren’t you…?”
He scoffed. “Oh I’m livid,” at Akira’s wince, he kept going. “I’m your best friend, man, you can tell me anything. And you’re telling me you personally know my favorite superhero ever and didn’t think of getting me an autograph? Shame on you, man.”
That managed to take a small, amused smile out of him. Good. He whipped a tear away with his thumb, not realizing when he began cradling his friend’s face on his hands. “I’m here for you Akira,” he said, being a bit more serious. “Through good and bad, I ain’t going anywhere, y’hear?”
Akira looked at him in wonder, and Ryuji basked in the attention for as long as he could. Then he avoided his gaze, resting his hands over Ryuji’s. “Akechi… he got too involved, and that… that cost him…” He bit his lower lip, but his friend gently rubbed a thumb over it, making him release it. “Futaba knows, too. She has mics all over Leblanc for some stupid reason… she figured me out in like, a week.”
“That does sound like her,” he huffed. So that’s why Futaba never seemed upset with Akira ditching them.
“I wanted to tell you,” Akira says, earnestly, like a promise. “But the more people get involved, the more in danger they are. I didn’t want you to-” He gulped. “I want to keep you safe.”
“I’d say you’ve done a good job so far,” he hummed, and, in a bold move of his, he pressed their foreheads together. Here goes nothing. “You aren’t alone, ‘Kira.”
“‘Yuji…” he sniffed again.
“Okay so,” he said nervously. “You can web me to the ceiling or something, if I’m not reading this well,” he gave him a heads up, before diving in and pressing their lips together.
It felt heavenly, as good as he ever imagined if not more. He didn’t get to enjoy the chaste sensation of it for long, as Akira all but shoved him into the floor and began devouring him. It wasn’t the best first kiss, if he could be completely honest, as their teeth clacked and they couldn’t stop giggling and chuckling, but it was all they ever wanted.
Akira looked relieved beyond himself when they finally separated, after a final kiss at the corner of Ryuji’s mouth. There was a cute pink blush going all over his face, somehow accentuating his bruised skin. Ryuji leaned in and kissed the purple and green markings gently, but stopped immediately when a third voice echoed in the room.
“UGH! Not here, you idiots!”
He scrambled around to find the source of the voice, wondering how in hell was Akira so calm when a stranger seemingly snuck on the attic without neither of them noticing. In fact, his best friend was laughing.
“Down here, monkey head,” the voice spoke again and when he looked down there wasn’t anyone else but Morgana.
Morgana, who was talking in Japanese.
“You broke him,” Akira huffed out a laugh.
Ryuji gulped. “‘Kira, your cat is talking.”
“Yeah, so, that’s another fun side-effect of being bit by a radioactive spider,” he sheepishly said.
“You were what?” He gaped.
“How do you think I got my powers?” He raised a brow at him, amused. “I can apparently transfer some of my abilities by, um, sharing… you know.”
“Wait an effin’ minute,” Ryuji ran a hand over his hair. “You and ‘Taba actually talk with the cat, it’s not just some- cute quirk of yours.” Then he stared at Akira, eyes wide as saucers. “And WHY Futaba?”
Akira pulled a face, absolutely disgusted by what he was implying. “She’s always stealing my cups of coffee, don’t imagine weird shit.”
“Okay, okay,” he plopped down on the bed, being followed by Akira and- and his monster cat. “I need a minute.”
“Or,” he could hear Akira’s shit-eating grin. “We could keep making-out and talk tomorrow?”
“I can’t believe you,” he scoffed.
Fortunately, Morgana reacted to that. “You’re gross! I’m staying with Futaba,” he swatted his tail around, jumping into the windowsill in one graceful move. “Use protection and stuff, you’re old enough to be responsible.”
“Shut up!” Ryuji shouted into Akira’s pillow, as the feline finally went away.
He could hear Akira chuckling. “Sorry for that.”
The blonde threw him the pillow. “Be less sorry and start making it up to me,” he huffed, pretending to be upset.
Akira gave him one of those alluring grins of his, one that made Ryuji gulp hard. “Gladly,” he got on top of him, his hungry gaze changing momentarily for something softer, more tender. “And… thanks… for everything you said, and being cool about this.”
“Dude, you could be a weirdo wearing spandex and a ridiculous cape for fun and I’d still love you,” he said, only realizing what he said after it was out. Blushing madly and avoiding Akira’s lovestruck expression, he stuttered out. “A-As I said, I ain’t going anywhere. Even if you don’t want me here, I’ll follow. You won’t get rid of me so easily.”
“‘Yuji…” Akira licked his lips. “Stop talking.”
And well, stop talking he did.
“I didn’t think getting shot on my leg would finally lead to getting you two together.”
Ryuji scoffed, petting his brand-new boyfriend’s hair as Akira rested his head on his lap. They hadn’t been dating for longer than a day and the dude was being awfully clingy, although Ryuji has always known how affectionate he could be.
Wow, the signals have always been there, huh.
Futaba was sitting on her gaming chair, her leg propped up on a stool with a cushion over it. The bullet went through, and didn’t hit any bones, thankfully. She would need to rest for a couple of months before walking on her own again but their friends already offered themselves to help her get around earlier. Not like she left her room that much, anyway.
Almost asleep over Futaba’s bed, Akira grumbled. “Don’t joke with that.”
“It’s my bullet wound, I’ll jest with it as I please,” she argued, then smiled devilishly at them. “Morgana came yesterday complaining about how much of a pair of lovesick idiots you are, I see what he meant now.”
“Ryuji isn’t immune to my spidercharm,” Akira grinned, but grimaced when Ryuji bonked him on the head. “Hey.”
“You were a mess yesterday,” he huffed, hesitantly fond of his antics. “You’re a dork.”
“You love this dork.”
“Sue me, I do.”
Futaba groaned. “Can’t you guys take this somewhere else?”
“I’m on babysit duty, Sojiro’s orders,” Akira said. “And I just acquired a boyfriend, you can’t expect me to leave him behind.”
“I’m not an accessory, excuse you,” he pinched his nose playfully.
Akira opened his mouth to keep bantering, but then some kind of alarm went off on Futaba’s computer, and the easygoing atmosphere was gone just like that. He sat up, leaning down to see the monitor and sharing a quick glance with Futaba before staring at Ryuji.
He smiled softly. “It kinda makes sense you know, Futaba being your sidekick.”
“I’m no one’s sidekick, stupid Ryuji,” she pouted. “I’m his navigator, I’m support!”
“That sounds like a sidekick to me,” she stuck her tongue out to him, and he mimicked her. Then he noticed the conflicted look on his boyfriend’s face. “Hey,” he took his hand. “Duty calls, right?”
“‘Yuji, could you…?”
He interrupted him. “What did I literally tell you yesterday? You ain’t alone, dude!” He stood up and gave him a peck on the lips, grinning at him after. “Go get ’em, tiger. I’ll hold down the fort.”
He’d never get tired of the way Akira’s eyes widened in wonder every time he repeated the same, like he couldn’t believe there was someone so ready to stay with him. It was awfully cute, but he hoped it would become a regular occurrence and didn’t catch his boyfriend so unguarded in the future.
Akira was off seconds later, leaving Ryuji alone with Futaba in her room.
“‘Go get’em, tiger’? Really?” Futaba scoffed. “Can’t you guys get any more cheesy?”
Blushing, Ryuji avoided her gaze. “He liked it! I-I’m just showing my support!”
“You two are disgusting, if I could I’d ban you from my sacred chambers.”
They kept bickering back and forth for a long time, and when Futaba showed him some live footage of Phantom-Spider saving the day hours later, well, he couldn’t help but feel proud of him. Don’t get him wrong, the thought of Akira getting into harm’s way every day made him anxious, but he had always trusted Spider-Man, hadn’t he? And he had always trusted Akira even more.
Through good and bad, through thick and thin. He’ll be ready to be for him when he needs it.