Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dream is alone today.

Usually the rest of the Fantastic Four would be with him, especially on a Friday night, but they all have their own plans that don’t include him. You would expect that The Human Torch would have somewhere to be tonight but that’s just what the media tells you. He’d much rather stay in 

A blur of red and blue flew past him and fell to the floor. The flames on his hands seemed to ignite on their own, defensive instincts coming alive.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey! Flame off! I’m not here to hurt you,” the intruder rushed out. Dream looked at the trademark web design inlaid in the red and blue suit and almost fainted.

Holy shit that’s Spider-Man.

Still in disbelief, let the flames in his hands die into nothing. Spider-Man looked up, a groan escaping his lips. Only then did Dream realize he could see Spider-Man's cheek. In fact, he could see bits and pieces of his face through the torn up mask. His suit was no better, bloodied and mangled like he’d been passed through a meat-grinder.

“Spider-Man! What are you—should I be closing my eyes?” Dream asked, his hands hastily coming up to cover his eyes. He hoped he was imagining the slight tremor in his fingers.

“It’s alright, Torch. You can open ‘em,” He chuckled.

“You know who I am?” Dream let his hands fall to his sides and regarded Spider-Man. “Wait, why are you—what are you doing here?”

“Trying not to die,” he grunted in response. Spider-Man rolled over and pushed himself up. He limps his way onto the bed and flops his tired and beaten down body onto it. “Just my luck the Human Torch’s room was close by,” he mumbled.

There's a strike of panic along his spine when he realizes that somewhere in the mess of his room is his Spider-Man related merch. On the wall adjacent to his bathroom is a poster of him, mid-swing. He had gotten the copy of the photo from his best friend George, a photographer at the Daily Bugle. Arguably the only person that has managed to snap a good shot of the hero in action.

Before Dream could say anything, the vigilante passes out on the floor.

What the fuck, he thinks. Did he just kill Spider-Man? He places his hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of it, immediately losing about 10% of his panic. Now he’s got Spider-Man unconscious in his room, littered with mech for the hero, and his mask has holes.

He rummages around his closet to look for a mask to put over Spider-man, but all he could find is his old smile mask that was gifted to him by a fan after his avatar.

He figures this could work. It’s not like much of his face is showing, just a part of his jaw and his ear.

Dream turns away from the hero. He feels creepy seeing some of his features, like he’d just walked in on him naked or something. Spider-Man’s going to kill him when he wakes up.

Dream buckles his mask onto his face and carries him onto his bed. He looks smaller than Dream thought he was. In all of his videos, he seemed like this larger-than-life miracle of a vigilante, stopping moving trains and falling rubble with his bare hands. But here, he just seems like a regular guy. With bleeding wounds and a torn up suit.

Dream goes to the infirmary to gather supplies. Bandage, ointment, gauze, cotton, maybe an ice pack? He’s not entirely sure. It’s not like he pays much attention to what exactly nurses and doctors give him.

With all his supplies in his arms, he makes his way back to his room. Spider-Man is still asleep in his bed, unconscious and breathing. But all of his wounds look significantly better than before he left. Is he hallucinating? He could swear they were at least half the size they were at right now. Still, he dresses his wounds and patches him up.

While he’s doing that, Spider-Man starts stirring awake.

He groans, trying to get up. His hands fly to the mask on his face. “What is this? Did you lift my mask?” he grumbles out.

“No, no! I was just… you’re Spider-Man and I could see, like, parts of your face. Your mask had holes. I felt like I was breaking some sort of law so I just covered you up.”

“Okay. yeah, fine.”

“Okay? That’s it you just believe me?”

“Trust me, if you were lying to me I would know.”

“How?”

“I just would.”

“Well, what if I took a peek and I’m just acting like I didn’t.”

“Well, did you?”

“No! I swear I didn’t.”

“Well, there you go then. Congrats. I’ll give this back to you. Promise. Pinky promise.”

“You don’t— I—” Spider-Man raises his pinky.  Dream doesn’t know how a finger can look so insisting. He lets out a sigh and links their pinkies.  “Okay.”

Spider-Man is trouble. A calamity, disaster, an upheaval. He’s madness, a maelstrom, a head-long jump into adversity.

He can’t wait to tell George.

Everyone has their own opinion about Spider-Man. Their own theories on who he is, what he looks like, if he’s a hero or a menace. There isn’t a person in New York that doesn’t have an opinion.

Not even the Human Torch with his millions of Twitter followers.

“The Daily Bugle is run by a bunch of fucking idiots!” Dream exclaims. He has his phone in his hand, fingers furiously scrolling as he leans back into his queen sized bed. There’s a steady stream of smoke emanating from him, air becoming hot and muggy.

“Dream,” George chides, “flame off. You’ll catch the whole room on fire.”

“Well, good. I’ll fly up to the Bugle Building and burn it down to the ground myself! They’re ridiculous, George. Are you seeing what they’re writing about Spider-Man?”

And of course George has seen it. He heard it coming from the mouth of J. Jonah Jameson himself when he was handing in his pictures for the article. ‘Spider-Man: Super Hero or Super Zero?’ was particularly harsh, he thought. Especially after the beating he took from Green Goblin last week.

George holds in a manic laugh. “Here and there,” he says.

“And it’s stupid right? Spider-Man is a hero! I don’t know why they keep insisting he isn’t. Just last week he took down the Goblin, all by himself too! I didn’t even know there was a fight happening then, WHAM! He was on my floor, bloodied and bruised. I didn’t even know what to do, I just gave him my mask.”

George feels his face flush hot. “He sounds like an idiot.”

Dream waves him off. “Well, you’d think that. You know nothing about heroes, George.” The irony of it all almost makes George laugh. “How can someone live in New York, be best friends with The Human Torch, and not care about superheroes?”

“I just don’t find them interesting enough to tweet about them all day,” he shrugs.

“Really?” Dream deadpans. “So I suppose the F4 posters in your room are there just so you stare at me in costume?”

“Shut up. You know I've always looked up to Reed.”

“George!” Dream gasps, over exaggerated and scandalized. “I can’t believe you’ve been crushing on my sister’s boyfriend this entire time.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. I’ll romance him until he agrees to give me a spot on his internship program.”

“I’m sure Stark Industries would take you in,” he teases.

“Not funny, Torch. Don’t even joke about that. He would never let me back inside Baxter building if I was working for Stark.”

“Then I’d just have to sneak you in.”

“Good luck with that,” he mutters.

“The alarms are broken anyway. I still don’t know how Spider-Man got in without alerting the building.”

George freezes up. Of course the alarms didn’t go off, the system knows George. How could he forget that? “I’ll take a look at it,” he offers, hoping his voice doesn’t shake too much as he says it.

Then there’s a prickling feeling up his spine that tells George something is wrong. He looks out of the window to see a group of masked idiots with a potato sack, getting ready to enter a restaurant across the street. In broad daylight.

God, he thinks. These criminals are getting bolder and dumber every day.

“Hey, I gotta go,” he announces, gathering his things in his backpack. “See you tomorrow?”

“Aww, come on, George! Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“Can’t!” he calls out. “Aunt May’s making french onion soup tonight. And don’t get canceled on twitter while I’m gone!” he calls out.

Once he’s out of the building and out of sight, George stuffs all his civilian clothes into his backpack and puts on the mask. He swings around, looking for a building with an acceptable roof to store his things in.

From his vantage point, up in the building, he can see there’s four of them, all of them equally nervous and hesitating to do anything. He assumes they all have guns, but none of them look willing to shoot anyone. George webs his bag onto the rooftop and swoops in to stop the robbery from happening.

“Hey guys,” he announces, surprising all of them. “Didn’t think to invite me to your brunch?”

Four heads look at him in bewilderment. He takes this opportunity to web two of the four wannabe robbers to the brick wall. “You should try the rice bowl. It’s pretty good.”

One of them swings at him, hand gripping a small blade. George almost gets nicked with it, not expecting the weapon. “Woah!” he says, ducking at the attempt. “Well, it was just a suggestion. You don’t have to get it if you don’t want to.”

They just stare at him, incredibly perplexed. George finds that being a smartass on the scene confuses everyone and buys him time. Spider-Man kinda gained a reputation for it. Quick-wit and jokes that land only half the time gets him a few more seconds to get them behind bars.

He takes his time webbing up the criminal. He makes a show out of it, hanging him on the lamppost for the police to find. He makes a move for his back pocket and George webs his hands to his back.

The hair on his neck is standing up again. It alerts him to the final thief, looking at him with wide eyes and a bomb in his arms.

His heart starts racing as his thumb gets closer to the detonator. There’s nothing else to do. He shoots a web to get the bomb out of reach but the clock on it is already ticking, probably even before he showed up. 4:04, it reads in bright flashing red, slowly going down and down.

Tickling bomb in hand, he webs up the last guy to the wall and secures everyone else in place. He turns to the crowd of civilians watching, “One of you call the police, please.” and immediately everyone brings out their phone. 

There isn’t a place in new york that isn’t bustling with life and he knows fuck all about disarming a bomb but he knows he needs to get this away from the city. Before he can even formulate a plan, the bright burst of flame rushes in.

Great, George thinks. Just what he needs.

“Human Torch,” he greets.

“Hi. Spider-Man, hey. Uh, hello.” There’s smoke coming off of him, like he can’t control his body temperature. George– No, Spider-Man, doesn’t have time for this.

“You don’t need to be here, I’ve got it covered,” he tells him.

“You have a ticking time bomb in your hands.”

“Well, I’ll get rid of it.”

“I can help! I’ll fly it over the water and drop it there.”

As much as George knows how dangerous it is to be interacting with Dream while in uniform, there isn’t much left for him to do. He’s on a clock and there’s no way for him to dispose of this bomb without harming citizens or himself.

“Fine,” he relents.

“Meet me at the harbor, we can plan again there.”

George swings and doesn’t stop until he gets there. By the time he’s on his feet Dream has been pacing around waiting.

“Spider-Man! Good, you’re here.”

“What you got, Torch?” he asks. His tone is cold and it makes him feel horrible but he knows it’s for the better. George is careful not to create a friendship between Spider-Man and the Human Torch. He can’t risk messing up and forgetting which identity Dream told some story to.

“I was thinking I would fly out far enough and drop it there so it blows up in the air.”

“Then you would get hit by the blast. Why don’t you fly me up there and I use my webs to swing it around and launch it farther away? That way no one gets hurt and I don’t end up on the front page of the Bugle for corrupting the nation’s heartthrob?”

“You read about what they write about me?” Torch asks, completely shocked.

“What? No.” George is panicking, scrambling to figure out a way to fix this mess. “Shut up you’re basically everywhere.” Has he blown it? Is his cover screwed? But Dream is still focused on the fact that Spider-Man knows about the headlines they write for him that he won’t even spare a second thought to George.

“Oh, Spidey! You didn’t tell me you were a fan!” He jokes. “If it makes you feel better, the Bugle is wrong about you.”

“Yeah? And what would you know?”

“Oh, please. Jameson is a piece of shit! He’ll twist anything to make a good headline, trust me I know. My family still has articles of my ‘cheating scandals’ all over Baxter Building.”

It makes George laugh. “Well, I bet they’ll give you a new headline once we get this bomb fixed.”

“Alright, hands up.”

George looks at him with hesitance.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry,” he flames on, his entire body lighting aflame except for his arms. “You won’t get burned,”

George raises his hands and is immediately dragged up. He watches as the ground from underneath him falls out and he’s rising higher and higher up in the sky. They’re halfway to the Statue of Liberty when the bomb starts beeping. He looks down at it to see that the timer had gone down to just one minute, red numbers staring at him tauntingly.

“Torch!” he shouts over the wind. “The timer went down. We have to do this now.”

The Human Torch flies straight at the statue of Liberty, the clock ticking on them. He drops George off at the crown, taking the bomb from his hands.

“What are you doing! Give it to me, Torch!”

“If you throw it from here we won’t be far enough, the blast will hit the Statue, and worse, us. I need to get farther.”

“But–”

“Trust me.” Even through his flames George can see his earnest eyes. Imploring him to listen. Time is slipping away and George has no other option but to agree and let him go.

“It’s your funeral. Just be quick,” he jokes but as he’s watching The Human Torch fly away from him he can feel his heart shake in anticipation.

He’s counting down in his head.

5.

He’s far away enough for the blast to be safe.

4.

Throw it now, Dream, He thinks.

If he doesn’t launch the bomb to the sky now, he won’t have enough time to get away.

2

Come on, come on.

1

Dream throws the bomb up as high as he can but George knows, even before it detonates, he waited too long. The bomb goes off and the blast propels Dream backwards.

“Torch! Flame on!” he screams but to no avail. He’s knocked out.

George curses at himself as he’s running off the crown and jumping headfirst, diving after Dream. He’s falling too quickly for George to catch him. There’s panic filling his veins. He’s going to drop him. He’ll be too late and Dream will fall into the water and he won’t fly out. He can’t flame on when he’s wet. His Spider senses kick in and he’s slinging webs at him, pulling him towards his body as he shoots another web up to the Statue of Liberty.

Everything stops right above the water.

Dream is in his arms, they’re dangling by a web just a hair’s breadth away from plunging into the cold, and he’s okay.  

He caught him.

When George has brought them back up to the top of the Statue of Liberty, Dream is still unconscious. He assesses the damage, relieved to see that aside from a few scrapes and bruises, he made it out okay.  George takes note of his vitals, his breathing, his heartbeat. It all crashes down on him at that moment.

This is Dream. His best friend, his life outside the suit. He almost lost him.

Part of him wants to be angry. To scream at him and berate him until he realizes how dangerous this life is. How he’d be much better off hanging up the superhero title and walking away from this life. But he knows that Dream can’t. For the same reasons that George can’t. They didn’t choose this life, they were thrust into it. There’s nothing he can do but be there for him; to catch him before he falls.

When Dream wakes up, it’s to the sun sinking into the water.

“How long have I been out?” he asks, sitting up to survey the damage. Any open wounds he might’ve had were webbed up, acting as a makeshift bandage. George is sitting right beside him, eyes staring out into the horizon.

“A while. You took a pretty nasty hit there.” Not for the first time, George wishes he could tell Dream who he is. He wants to take off the mask, to show him his face and watch the recognition bleed into his features. But the image of him falling through the sky, almost out of reach, reminds him exactly why he shouldn’t.

“I got rid of it, didn’t I?” he jokes.

And that just makes George flare up in anger.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Maybe his tone is too harsh, maybe he’s being too unkind, but his heart is racing and he can’t figure out a way to slow down his brain enough for his mouth to catch up. “You could’ve died out there. I told you to be quick but you didn’t listen.”

“But I didn't,” Dream shrugs.

“And you’re lucky you didn’t. What would you have done if I wasn't there to save your ass? I can’t always be around to clean up your mess.”

“You’re acting like I was the one that set off the bomb, Spidey. I just did what I could, you don’t have to be an asshole about it,” he grumbles, clearly not understanding why George was actually upset.

“Don’t call me that,” George gripes.

“What, asshole? Because you were acting like one.”

“No, Spidey. That’s not my name.”

“Yeah?” Dream looks at him and raises an eyebrow at his words. “What is it then?”

“Spider-Man. You know this.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs. He’s so clearly Dream in this moment he wonders what it is about Spider-Man that makes him feel comfortable enough to let go of the superhero persona. “You have a name.”

“I do, I just told you.”

“I mean, underneath the mask, you know? Like, for me, basically everyone calls me the Human Torch, my friends and family call me Dream, but my real name is Clay even though no one really calls me that.”

George looks at him only to notice how close they actually are. If Dream were to sway a little bit, their shoulders would touch. He doesn’t know if the goosebumps all over his arms means he wants it to happen or not.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m asking what your name is.”

“It’s none of your business,” George brushes him off.

“Alright,” Dream raises his hands in defense. “Touchy, I get it. Secret identities and everything. If I had the choice to, I wouldn’t have told anyone either.”

He looks at Dream in disbelief. Dream loves the spotlight, he likes the crazy headlines and the rush of meeting people. Either he’s lying to Spider-Man or he feels more comfortable talking to him than he does with George.

He doesn’t know which of the two hurts less.

“I better go,” he excuses.

“Wait how are you—?”

But before Dream can ask how he’s getting off the Statue of Liberty, Spider-Man is swinging away, landing on a ferry passing by as it makes its way back to the pier.

He flies to the ferry, keeping up with its speed. “Spider-Man!” Dream calls out “how do I find you again?”

“You don’t need to!” He screams from over the sounds of the water. “I’ll find you.”

George watches as he flies off, a blur of bright red and orange flames. For his own good, he hopes that Spider-Man never has to meet him again.

The next time they meet, he’s George.

George is always over at Baxter Building. When he’s not hanging out with Dream, he’s down at the labs with Reed. He isn’t home today but George still lets himself in because he knows he won’t mind. It does make him feel a little guilty to be working on his Spider-Man tech right at the heart of Fantastic Four when he knows how distrustful they are about the entire vigilante thing.

What they don’t know won’t hurt them, he thinks. That still doesn’t stop the guilt from bubbling to the surface.

George can hear Dream coming from the floor above him. It’s one of the things he had to get used to when he first got his powers. He heard every little thing, he could see miles and miles ahead of him, every sense was dialed up to 11 and that resulted in multiple excruciating migraines until he got the hang of it. One of the things that helped was listening to Dream’s heartbeat. He tried it with his own but he got too freaked out to keep doing it so he switched to listening to his best friend’s. It wasn’t all bad, at least he knew he was alive.

The elevator dings and Dream walks inside. He’s got his signature wide smile on his face and the shining look in his eyes. Immediately, George wants to run. He knows this means he’ll want to talk to George about his Spider-Man encounter. He successfully dodged every single newspaper with both of them on the cover and tuned out JJ’s voice whenever he came on the news but of course the one person he wouldn’t be able to ignore was Dream.

“Did you see the news?” Dream asks him, sitting on the open seat beside George. He doesn’t mind, it’s not like he’ll know that he’s working on the inner mechanism of his webslingers. It just looks like a bunch of scrap metal and parts that wouldn’t make sense to anyone but Spider-Man.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” he answers.

“George, I’m telling you. This is more important than whatever you’re doing.”

And because George can’t really deny him anything, he puts down his webslingers and turns to face Dream.

“What is so important that you had to interrupt me?” He notices the red hue all over his face, the way it makes his freckles stand out even more.

“I met Spider-Man yesterday.”

“Didn’t you already meet him, like, ages ago?”

“No, but this time I actually met him, George. It’s all over the news! Haven’t you seen it?”

“Busy with homework,” George mutters as he tries to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“Well,” Dream whips out a stack of newspapers,”you’re lucky you have me, because I just bought a bunch of these newspapers down the street and look!” Dream points to the very front of the page. “We’re front page! Even Jameson had something good to say about Spider-Man.”

“What?” George asks. “Let me see that.” he grabs the paper from him and examines it, eyebrows furrowed and his heart beating quickly. And, just like Dream said, their picture is large on the very first page, big letters spelling out both their names. It’s a shitty picture taken from a phone but it’s very clearly them.

Dream doesn’t stop talking about the encounter all day. And when Sue gets home he launches back into the story, all the way from the beginning. He’s lit alight from the inside whenever he retells the events.

Even when George is on the train home, he can hear the smile in Dream’s voice. It feels wrong to see how happy he is knowing the secret he’s been keeping. And though it fills George with a feeling that can’t ever be replaced, he knows that it’s not his. This joy, this pride that Dream holds for the vigilante is not his, it’s Spider-Man’s.

He reminds himself of this as he walks back to his run-down apartment in Queens, away from the bustling, ever-alive lifestyle back at Baxter building. It won’t do him good to forget where he came from and who he really is.

That night, when he dons on the suit, he thinks of Dream. Really– he thinks of The Human Torch. Younger than him, bright in every way, and loved by the people. He’s what a hero should look like, this shining beacon of hope, light guiding you to safety.

George has never been this distracted on a Patrol night.

It’s quiet out on the streets of New York. He swings from building to building and all he can see are the occasional cars, people stumbling home after a night out, and the streetlights keeping the sidewalks lit. There’s nothing for Spider-Man to do tonight, so he resigns himself to sitting on the ledge of a building.

In moments like this, he likes to think of himself as the hero that people say he is. Watching over New York, waiting for crime to happen. But all he can feel is the ache in his muscles and the way his eyes are heavy in his skull. He’s really too tired to be doing this every night.

George stands up on the ledge and leaps off. Just to feel something. He catches himself with a web to a building and thinks, if I don’t do it, who will?

The Fantastic Four are busy with the high-profile, intergalactic villains, they have no time to be stopping petty theft and getting cats out of trees.

As he’s swinging by he sees the sky burst into light, Letters being spelled meticulously from flame, curving and sloping the sentence out up in the air.

SPIDER-MAN

MEET ME AT THE SPOT. YOU KNOW THE ONE.

-TORCH

Is he insane? He thinks, but there’s a smile on his face as he swings his way to the Statue of Liberty.

When he gets there, an old blanket is laid out on the crown. There’s a box of pizza and a thermos beside it. Torch is standing there, hands clasped and rocking on the balls of his feet.

“What’s this, Torch? Waiting on a hot date?” George dials up his ‘spidey personality’ to an 11.

“Well,” he shrugs. “He’s already arrived.”

If he had the mask off he’d be rolling his eyes. “Very funny, hotshot. Really, what is this about?”

“I kinda, well, I didn’t know how to reach you and given our line of work, there’s not really much time for chit-chat when we have to save New York and, whatever. I just wanted to talk.”

This is when George notices that he’s not wearing his suit. He’s got on a plain blue shirt and an old jean jacket he’s seen in him multiple times before.

“Talk about what?” he asks.

“Like, just talk, I guess. It’s not often I get to be around Supers that aren’t my family.” Dream sits down on the blanket, arms crossed over his legs. “And besides, you look like you need a friend.”

“I have friends,” George replies.

“Yeah? Who?”

You, he thinks. “No one you know.”

“Oh, they go to another school?” he grins.

George rolls his eyes at that. “Okay, flame-brain. I really don’t have time for your games. Unlike some people I actually have to work tonight. So if you could just–” He turns around to walk away but Dream stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he says.

“You’re smoking.”

“What?”

George points at the top of his head. “You’re on fire, Torch.”

“Fuck,” Dream mutters, ruffling his hair to get rid of it. “Sorry, I usually have that under control.”

“Sure,” he mutters. “Torch, I really have to go, are we done here?”

Dream fixes him with a look, mouth downturned in a way George knows he can’t control. “Can't you just stay for a bit? We can eat and not talk.”

George spares the blanket and the food another glance. He knows that getting involved with Dream as Spider-Man is a bad idea but he thinks about how happy he was to see them on the front page. Leaving him here wouldn’t be anything but cruel.

“Fine,” he relents. They sit down on the blanket. George doesn’t make a move to grab a pizza, just staring as Dream takes out a slice.

“Why aren’t you getting any?” he asks him.

“My mask,” George points at his face. “Can’t really eat with this on.”

“Just lift it up to your mouth.”

He hesitates, not knowing whether or not Dream would recognize him from his mouth alone. But like most things regarding him, George throws caution to the wind and lifts the mask up to his nose. He can tell that Dream is looking, peeking glances from where he sits besides him. The scary thing is– George can’t find it in himself to care about it, not particularly.

They sit in silence for a few moments before he breaches the silence.

“Why’d you even want to talk to me anyway?” he asks. “You don’t know me. I could be a creepy old man from all you know.”

“You aren’t though.”

“But I could’ve been.”

Dream sighs, arms wrapping around his knees to keep them in place.”I don’t know. It’s more selfish than I made it seem.”

“A picnic on top of the Statue of Liberty kind of selfish?”

He chuckles at that. He seems so young under the setting sun, younger than he’s ever seen him. This Dream is lonely, vulnerable in a way he’d never show anyone.

Lovely, selfless, superhero Dream. Lonely.

It makes him ache.

Dream shrugs in place of a response. “I guess I just wanted a friend.”

It stings a little, makes him unsure of who George is to Dream. Is Spider-Man more important to him than George? “Surely you, the Human Torch, have a bunch of other friends out there. Why me?”

“They don’t really get it. I have this best friend, George. Do you know him? He’s the one that takes all your good pictures.”

“I’ve heard of him,” George brushes off.

“Well, he’s my best friend. I’ve known him for like, a decade by now. He’s great and all but I can’t really talk to him about superhero stuff.” Dream picks at the fraying threads on his jeans. Mindless and unaware that George is Spider-Man.

“I’m sure he’d listen if you talked to him,” he tells him, because he would. Even if he weren’t Spider-Man he’d listen. It makes him ache, deep and unknown, the way Dream doesn’t seem to trust him with everything.

It’s all fair, he thinks. It’s not like he tells him everything either. But the selfish part of him still wants him that way– in all the ways.

“I can’t,” Dream shakes his head. “It’s not safe. The less he knows the better.”

And George can’t hate him for it. He gets it. If the roles were reversed and George was the hero and Dream wasn’t, he’d do everything to keep him far away from this life. The villains, the media, the danger of it all– it’s too much. It’s not something a person should have to deal with. But what else can people like them do? The world is crawling with evil and animosity between the cracks of humanity and they’re the only ones who can help. They make a difference. So if it means there’s a cape to don or a mask to wear, then so be it.

“I get it,” he tells him honestly.

“Is that why you don’t want to tell me who you are? You know I can handle it. I’m a hero, just like you.” His voice is light, like the air carrying the rays of sun into houses in early mornings.

“Torch, I’m no hero,” George mutters. It’s something that has been said over and over again by the media. Doesn’t make it any less real. “Just because I can swing on trees and walk on the ceiling doesn’t make me a hero. Don’t you listen to the news?” he jokes, wishing to bring their conversation back to less somber topics.

“Oh, please,” Dream scoffs. “You know that me, of all people, would never take their word as fact. I’ve been called so many things but that doesn’t change who I am. I’ll still be Dream under all this fire.”

It soothes a part of George that he didn’t know existed. The part that wanted to share this life with Dream, the part of him that wanted his acceptance.

“Besides,” Dream bumps his shoulder. “I think you’re pretty heroic, considering.”

“Considering what?”

“Considering I don’t have a clue what you look like. I don’t know anything about you, actually. But I think I know enough to know you’re a good person, Spidey.” His eyes are earnest. He looks every bit the superhero that he is and it makes George ache.

“Well, there had to be an upside to being part spider,” he shrugs even though Dream’s words hang around his shoulders like a weighted blanket.

The sun is setting and New York is coming to life. The lights and the sounds of life permeate the air. George should be out there– Spider-man should be out there. Instead, he’s here. Nearly shoulder to shoulder with his best friend and a stranger all at once at the very top of the Statue of Liberty.

He thinks there’s nowhere he’d rather be than here.

Later, when there’s only one last slice left in the box and they’re ready to call it a night, a chill creeps up George’s spine, causing the hair on his arms to stand.

Something’s wrong.

He sits up, eyes sharp as he scans the distance. Dream is nearly asleep, laying back on the blankets. And as peaceful as he looks, he knows he can’t be here right now.

“Torch,” he shakes him awake.

“What? What is it?”

“We have to go,” he answers, still looking for what had alerted him to danger.

“What? Is something wrong, spidey?”

“Dream,” George grabs his shoulders and forces him to pay attention. “I need you to trust me right now. Do you trust me?”

Dream, as perplexed as he is, nods immediately. It warms him up from his stomach but he has no time to dwell on that.

“Okay,” he nods. “Then you need to go home. Go back to Baxter Building and go to sleep.”

“I’m– okay. Okay, fine. But let me fly you back to the pier at least. Ferries won’t be out until morning.”

“Fine, whatever. Just be quick and do not stop for anything.”

“Spider-Man, you’re really freaking me out here.”

“I mean it, matchstick. Just go home.”

George watches in real time as he deflates, recoils away and the wall he first built up between them was suddenly back.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “I don’t know what’s got your webs in a twist but don’t take it out on me.”

“You don’t know me,” he spits out. “Don’t act like you do. Just–” he interrupts himself, running his hands over his mask. “Just listen to me and don’t argue.”

“You’re right. I don’t know you.”

The words strike him deep. He’s been getting too familiar with him. In a way he shouldn’t. In a way Spider-Man shouldn’t.

Keep them separate, he thinks. Spider-Man is not George.

The ride back to the pier is silent. Even as Dream has his hands clasped on his arms and he can feel the heat from his flames, his chest feels like it’s been dunked in ice.

His feet hit the pavement and he’s just about ready to go when he feels Torch hover over him, flames still burning bright.

He looks like a god. He looks like the sun, he thinks. He pushes it down.

Torch is looking at him, burning bright. “Will I see you again?” he asks. There’s an apology in his words.

“I’ll be around,” he replies. Not a promise, not friendship. Just keeping his distance.

George watches as Dream flies away from him, like a shooting star passing by– a near miss.

He pushes all thoughts of Dream to the back of his mind. Something is wrong and he needs to figure out what it is. He swings around the city, keeping a close eye on all his senses, waiting for something to alert him. It’s when he’s about to pass the Baxter Building when he gets alerted by his spider senses.

Driving by is a white van, windows tinted too dark and all the warning sirens in his head are going off. He trails it for a little, trying to see what exactly the van is doing, or rather, what the people in the van are up to. They end up at the abandoned Oscorp facility down the block, where the accident with Dr. Otto happened.

The hardest part of being a hero is knowing that sometimes, there’s nothing else for you to do but watch. Whether it’s because you can’t do anything or because you don’t know if there is anything to do, it’s just something that comes with the job. So George watches. He keeps his fingers on his web slingers, ready to go in case anything happens.

A cloaked figure gets out of the van and walks into the facility. George decides that he needs to know what’s going on so he follows closely, making it up to the widow on the top floor. There he watches as the cloaked figure grabs a bunch of scrap metal and loads it back onto the van.

Is this what his senses alerted him to? Theft? But it feels like more, like there’s something deeper to it. George knows from experience that trusting your gut is one of the biggest reasons why he’s still alive today. He decides not to change it now and follows the van as it starts to drive off.

It takes a few moments, but the person driving somehow figures out that he’s being followed and suddenly he’s racing through the street. He takes sharp turns and goes off into empty roads but it doesn’t work Spider-Man is still following closely behind him.

Not until the van makes a sharp right into an alley. When George gets there it’s empty. A feeling of dread fills him knowing that, whoever that was, was more than a thief. He doesn’t know what he wants, what his goal is with those scrap metals. But he knows that it can’t be good. Running away from a superhero can never be a good sign.

Something big is coming to New York.

The next time George sees Dream is a month after their meeting at the Statue of Liberty.

It’s a Saturday, and one of his days off work. He was just thinking about patrolling around as Spider-Man when there’s a knock on his apartment door. He opens it to Dream, standing there with his eyes sunken in. George can see the bandages on his arm, disappearing under his shirt.

“Dream? What are you–?” he asks but is interrupted by Dream barrelling into him for a hug. His arms wrap around his shoulders so tight George can barely get his arms around Dream.

“George,” he says into his shoulder, pressed so tight you’d think George had died.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Just missed you a lot. Space is boring.”

There’s something more to his words. Something hidden beneath it that he isn’t telling George. But he doesn’t want to pry, doesn’t want to push him until he cracks open. He’ll tell him if he wants.

“You were gone for a while,” he tells him simply.

It’s been a month without Dream. A month without the Fantastic Four. George spent the entirety of it reliving their night at the Statue of Liberty. He retraces his steps, like doing so will erase how harsh he had been. In the process, he’d learnt that behind the urgency to find the danger, there was fear. Not for himself, but for Dream. He was afraid of it all crumbling down. He would mess up and Dream would figure out who he was or he’d be stupid for one moment and it would cost him his best friend.

It’s dangerous. This is why he wears the mask, so nothing personal can interfere with his work, so no one gets hurt. But with Dream as The Human Torch, it was impossible. There’s only so many ways he can ignore him in their niche line of work of fighting villains.

Dream pulls away from him and walks to the sofa, where they’ve spent countless late nights just talking, watching whatever was on, and screaming at whichever game they were playing.

“A neighboring galaxy was planning on invading. It was awful, I’d take Mole Man over that any day.”

He slumps down, tired to his bones and vulnerable. George decides to do something he’s never done before.

“Tell me about it?”

Dream’s head shoots up in surprise. “Seriously? You wanna hear it? You?” he asks, incredulous. “Mr. ‘Heroes-Are-Stupid’ wants to hear about my super secret hero mission?”

George shoves him, not unkindly. He’s more embarrassed than anything. “I was just curious. Nevermind then, you asshole.”

“Wait, George! C’mon, I’ll tell you all about it, you don’t have to sulk.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“You are.”

“I’m not. You’re just a dick.”

“Georgie, don’t do this to me,” he laughs. “I promise I won’t make fun anymore, yeah?”

Dream leans into him, crowding into his space. When he’s this close, George doesn’t even have to strain his ears to listen to his heartbeat. Hearing the familiar thuds in his chest brings him a comfort he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“Fine. Tell me all about your lame space trip.”

And Dream does. He launches into the story like he does with most things, all-in and heart first. He tells George about the people he met along the way, the planets he passed by. There’s one planet that’s completely pink and protected by 8 moons. Another one bright green and constantly raining. Outer space sounds so incredibly vast but finds a way to make it seem like he knows every corner of it. He tells him about the nights he spent staring out into nothing. There are pockets of space out there with nothing to occupy it. No planets or debris flying around. It’s devoid of anything, like someone had run an eraser through this page in the universe and forgot to fill it up.

George takes a small moment to thank the stars that Dream decided Earth was still worth coming back to.

When Dream leaves his apartment, George immediately gets into his Spider-Man suit. The urge to apologize to Dream is all-consuming. He’s had months to think about it, how he’d say it, what he’d do. But as he swings through buildings he realizes he doesn’t really know how to talk to him. So he takes a page out of his book and decides to leave him a message. He swings all the way to Manhattan, to the Manhattan bridge and writes out his message there, webbing the words he wanted to say.

IM SORRY. MEET ME AT THE USUAL.

- 🕷

He sees the way some cars slow down, pictures of it being taken, but he doesn’t care about the spectacle he made of himself. All he cares about is that it makes it back to Dream.

He makes it to the Statue of Liberty and he waits there. Even with the sun falling down on him hot all he can think about is how much brighter Dream is, how his flames feel hotter.

He might be going a little crazy.

Dream is not hard to miss. George can see him flying in from afar and he tries to ignore the nervousness it brings out in him.

Dream lands in front of him, his flames extinguishing just as his feet touch solid ground.

“You’re here,” he says, almost astonished.

“You asked me to,” he says. His voice is disconnected, tense like he can’t make out what Spider-Man wants from him.

“I’m sorry,” George rushed out.

“It’s alright,” Dream sighs. “It was my fault anyway. I’m sorry for pushing.”

“No, no. I blew up on you. I just– something came up.”

Dream offers him a small smile, an olive branch of sorts. “What, you had a better, hotter date to get to?”

“If you call some weirdo going around and stealing scrap metal a hot date then yeah, sure.” George sits down, leaning back on his hands. Now that he’s said it, there’s been a lifted weight off his back. He finally feels like he can breathe again. Dream sits down beside him, mirroring how they were the night they first met up here.

“Is that why you freaked out on me? You had some crime to fight?”

George just nods at it, not wanting to explain how off-putting the entire experience was.

“Did you get the tingles?”

“What?”

“You know, the tingle thing that happens to you when you sense danger.”

“It’s not a tingle.”

“But you have that, right?”

“How do you even know that?”

Dream shrugs, “I’ve seen you fight. You always perk up right before something big happens. Like that viral clip of you catching the car Sandman threw at you.”

It makes George sit up straighter, regarding Dream closely. “Do you watch clips of me?”

“What?” his eyes widened, “no I don’t. It just, like, came up on twitter you know.”

“You mean your twitter where you call Jameson an idiot for calling me a public menace.”

“And how do you know about that?”

“I have my ways.”

In some ways, it feels like everything is right again.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Dream says suddenly.

“I know.”

“But do you?” He raises his eyebrow. “You don’t have to protect me from anything. Even if it’s dangerous.”

“Even if it could kill you.”

He just shakes his head at that. “I am a superhero for a reason. I can handle it. I understand that knowing you is a liability but I’m dealing with dangerous things every day too. We can work together.”

“You want us to work together, you and me?” and Dream nods at his question.

“What will the public say,” George teases.

“Public enemy number one and New York’s most eligible bachelor. Now that would get people to talk.”

George laughs because it’s true. The media hates him and loves Dream. No matter how many defiling articles they release about him, there will always be ten more following it about how he’s the hope of the youth.

“Fine,” George relents. “If something comes up I’ll make sure to call for you.”

And that’s exactly what happens.

They end up helping each other more often than not. Spider-man appears whenever the Fantastic Four are in a pinch. The Human Torch flies around with him on his patrol nights. It becomes a thing. They beat petty criminals and big bads and it becomes easy. Soon enough, even the Fantastic Four have taken a liking to Spider-Man.

The biggest shift has to be the media coverage he’s been getting. Long gone are the days where his headlines list out all his wrongs. Suddenly, he’s beloved. Him and Dream have become an icon for the people, a duo that you can’t ignore.

They’ve amassed a sort of fanbase, the two of them. People dedicated to spotting them out and about. There are compilations of the messages they leave each other around New York. George has even gone as far as to following a twitter account called ‘SpideyTorch spottings’ and turning on their notifs, just so he never misses a message from the hero.

PIZZA TONIGHT? MEET ME AT THE USUAL

- TORCH

WANNA MEET UP?

YES OR NO

  □            □

- SPIDEY

(the message burned up after dream ticked off the ‘yes’ box)

ELECTRO GOT YOU GOOD. THE USUAL!

THE USUAL PLACE @ 8 TORCH

TONIGHT?

- TORCH

TORCH MEET ME AT THE USUAL PLACE

It’s picture upon pictures of the messages they send each other. It’s embarrassing, how it's all on display like this, even if they were the ones to put it up in public spaces. Even twitter is talking about it.

girlblogger173 @1

when will somebody ask me out thru flaming message in the sky

gwenniveve @2

modern day kafka and milena

(attached is a picture of the recents messages from Spider-Man and the Human torch)

Ava | SAW SPIDERMAN @3

spideytorch messages in the sky and on bridges and buildings how special you are to me

|

pip @4

theyre so ridiculous why don’t they just text

|

Ava | SAW SPIDERMAN @3

dont question their intricate rituals

flame on @5

why cant they flirt somewhere else and not on the manhattan bridge im gonna be late AGAIN.

Popcrave @6

Spider-Man and The Human Torch stuns in new paparazzi pictures

(attached are two pictures of Spider-Man swinging and The Human torch flying through New York City)

Daily Bugle @7

Spiderman and The Human Torch’s unusual communication methods. Read here

(attached is an article about the timeline of their messages)

Andy | SEEING TAYLOR 23 @8

spideytorch are so message in a bottle coded

|

Andy | SEEING TAYLOR 23 @8

i dont even go here but wow theyre something else

|

wishing well @9

DID YOU SEE THE ONE SPIDERMAN LEFT ON THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING

|

Andy | SEEING TAYLOR 23 @8

NO I HAVENT I DONT KEEP UP WITH THEM DM ME NOW PLEASE

|

wishing well @9

ur gonna freak they’re so 1989 i know places and welcome to new york

|

Andy | SEEING TAYLOR 23 @8

Ica nt  moveeeaj LIKE WHAT BUSINESS DO THESE HEROES HAVE DOING ALL THIS SOMEONE MAKE A TV SHOW ABT THEM NOW

TORCH SAVED ME FROM A BURNING BUILDING @9

does anyone else wonder why Spider-Man is a british superhero in new york

George will admit it’s amusing how everyone seems to care this much. He never expected to be a public figure like this but, whatever. It comes with the job, or so Dream says.

Guilt still settles in his mind behind it all.

It’s the next day when George gets a text from Dream.

dream

i nneed help

george

whats wrong

dream

i think i have a crush on spiderman

George has to read through the text multiple times to make sure he’s got it right. The blood runs cold and there’s this familiar feeling of danger running up his spine even though nothing is happening.

george

haha dream

dream

no george im so fucking serious

george

how can u have a crush on someone youve never even seen

dream

fuck yyou im not that superficial

i can like him with the mask just fine

george

its ur funeral dream

dream

george

george

what

dream

im so serious help me here do i confess

george

what dont do that

dream

why not

george

bc what if he doesnt like u

dream

i dont care i just need to get this off my chest

george

its a bad idea dream dont do it

dream

wtf at least support me here

george

u asked for my opinion and i gave it i think ur not thinking clearly

didnt you hit your head in that fight with the lizard

dream

yeah and then spiderman patched me up

hes soooooo

george im losing my mind u dont get it i genuinely like him

george

so what are u gonna do

dream

im gonna kiss his face

george

that u havent seen

dream

:(

george

L

dream

should i ask for a face reveal

george

what is this discord edating

dream

george please dont make fun of me im fragile here

george

im just saying dont u think its dangerous that you like some guy you dont even know

dream

i know spiderman

george

yeah ok so whats his favorite color

dream

like red or something

george

how old is he

dream

my age?

george

you dont even know his age

like what if hes a creepy old guy

dream

hes not ive seen his nose its an attractive nose

george

ur being stupid dream

dream

look just because youre single and alone doesnt mean u have to shit on my love life

He hates to admit it but it stings. Dream liking Spider-Man is something he can deal with. He knows him, he falls with everything he has then it dissipates like it wasn’t even there. It’ll last him a few months and he’ll get over it. But this, this one hurt. Knowing that Dream will never like him, never look at him the same way he does Spider-Man has his heart rattling in his chest.

george

wow

fine fuck you then

dream

im sorry george i didnt mean it

its just ur not taking me seriously here and ive never been sure in my life i really like him

george

whatever

dream

can i make it up to you? pizza at my place

Dream doesn’t mean to but the word usage still hurts. They don’t have a ‘usual place’ like him and Spider-Man do. All the mending he’s done on their friendship as heroes has backfired on him in a way he never expected.

He decides to ignore it, choosing to fix whatever mess he somehow landed himself in

george

Yeah ill be around in 20

When he gets there, Dream looks like he’s been running his hands through his hair over and over again. There’s a crazed look in his eye, like he wants to run away and never look back.

“Hey,” George greets.

“Hey.”

They make their way into his room, sitting on the end of the bed.

“The pizza will be here in a bit.”

“It’s fine.”

Tense silence envelopes the air, so thick they’re choking on it.

George is the first to breach the silence. “Look, I’m sorry for saying all that.”

“It’s ok. I know you’re just looking out for me.”

“It’s just,” he sighs. He doesn’t know how to convince him that his feelings for Spider-Man aren't real, that it can’t be real. “Have you even thought this through?”

“Of course I have.”

“You don’t know his real identity.”

“That doesn’t matter in the long run, George. I really like him and I think we can make it work. I’ll confess to him and ask him if he feels the same. If he does, then I’ll ask him to tell me who he is. If he doesn’t then it’s whatever. We’ll still be friends.”

“Yeah, but I know you Dream. You won’t be able to handle ‘just friends.’”

“I think I know what I can handle,” he says.

“Alright, fine. Let’s say he likes you back. What do you do if he doesn’t want to tell you who he is?”

“Then we’ll figure it out. We’re superheroes, George. I think we can handle secret identities just fine.”

George sighs, knowing he won’t get through to Dream.

“I know you don’t think I understand you, because I’m just a civilian, but I’ve known for such a long time, Dream. I know you better than you think. So please, just think about this.”

“George–” he calls out but he’s already halfway out the door.

“I’ll see you another time.”

George just hopes Spider-Man can get through to him.

Just as he suspected, a message in the sky is emblazoned with fire. 

SPIDER-MAN MEET ME AT THE USUAL PLACE. WE NEED TO TALK.

Even though he’d expected the message, it still sends his heart pounding. He doesn’t want to have to confront Dream about this anymore but what else is there for him to do?

He puts on his mask and swings.

When he gets there Dream is pacing. His hands are ablaze and his head is steaming, something that only happens when he’s really stressed.

“Did something happen?” he asks, feigning ignorance about why he’s really here.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay then, hothead. Shoot.”

“So, I fought with my best friend today.”

George swallows around the pit in his throat. “About what?”

“I like– someone,” he stutters.

“Okay? So why did you fight? Does your best friend like the same person?”

“You see, that’s the thing. It’s the opposite. He hates him. He doesn’t want me to do anything about it.”

“Did he say why?”

Dream shrugs. “I don’t know, some bullshit about how I don’t really know him and that it’s not a good idea.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to him. He is your best friend,” he tells him.

“Ugh,” he groans. “You don’t get it. I like this person, I really do. I don’t have to know his favorite color or what he eats for breakfast to know that. He’s really funny and brave. He’s got such a big heart and I like him. I don’t know why everyone keeps telling me I don’t.”

“He’s probably just looking out for you, Torch. Sometimes people just show that they care in different ways.”

Dream rubs his face in frustration, even more steam rising from his head. “Yeah, he does. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah?” George replies. He doesn’t really know what else he can say.

“Yeah. been with me through my worst. He’s sweet about it too, even if it makes him embarrassed.”

“Sounds like a good guy.”

“He is,” Dream agrees. “Sometimes I think it should’ve been him that became the hero, you know.”

George’s heart stills in his chest. “You do?”

“Yeah. He’s a good person. Better than most. I’ve watched him through his lowest points in life but he always came out smiling. He’ll do anything for the people he cares about, even if it’s at his own expense.”

Dream’s words stun George. He had no idea that Dream thought about him like this, at such high regard.

“The worst part is,” Dream says, his voice unsteady. “He doesn’t know how much I care.”

“I’m sure he does, Torch.”

“No, no. “ he chuckles, self-deprecating and sad in a way George has never heard. “Just earlier, he told me that he knows I don’t respect him because he’s not a superhero. And I can see where he’s coming from. He’s my best friend and I don’t even tell him anything about this part of my life. He’s too good for me.”

For once in his life George is grateful for the mask. He’s holding back tears, words failing him.

“Oh come on, don’t say that,” he manages.

“He reminds me of you, actually.”

George has to breathe in deep, trying not to show any emotion. “Really?”

Dream gets this faraway look in his eyes, like he’s just realized something.

“Yeah…” he replies, already walking to the edge of the crown. “I’ll see you later, Webs. Gotta go.” and he’s flying off.

In that moment, alone at the top of Lady Liberty, George knows that he’s made a big mistake.

He doesn’t see Dream after that for two weeks. Not as George and not as Spider-Man.

Christmas is coming and he can’t help but feel like the falling snow is closing in on him. He doesn’t know how Dream figured it out but he has. He knows that he’s Spider-Man. George can’t help but feel like he’s lost him now, in every way.

So he sends him a message and hopes that he’ll hear him out even if it’s the last time he does.

TORCH. MEET ME AT THE USUAL PLACE.

He webs it bigger than he usually does, though it’s not like he planned for it to be. He got carried away with it. The need for Dream to see his message showing up on the letters like he’d taken out his heart and handed it to him, beating and everything.

It doesn’t take long for Dream to get there. He’s in a shirt and sweatpants and for a short moment, George is amazed by his powers. Even in the cold he remains at his usual body temperature, rivaling that of a furnace.

“You wanted to see me?” he asks, arms staying awkwardly still at his side.

“Yeah, there’s something I had to tell you.”

Dream shoves his hands into his pockets, less to keep them warm and more to do with having something to preoccupy him with.

“Okay, yeah,” he nods. “What is it?”

“You said some things the last time we talked and it got me thinking. I didn’t want to delay this anymore since it was gonna happen sooner or later so,” he trails off. His hand goes to the edge of his mask. He lifts it up all the way to his mouth before Dream stops him.

“Spidey, wait!” Dream pulls his mask down.

“What are you doing?” George questions, more confused than he’s ever been since this entire thing started.

“Look, Spider-Man. I’m really flattered. Two weeks ago I would’ve been jumping for joy. But I realized something when we last talked. I really like you, I do.”

George doesn’t say anything,

“But I think I liked you for the wrong reasons.”

“Oh, well that’s–”

“–it’s not that you’re not likable! It’s just, I realized that I liked you because you reminded me of George.”

This is not what he expected.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, Spidey. I really am. But when we talked I realized that I’m in love with him and being with you– it’s just, you reminded me so much of him that I started projecting my feelings for him onto you.”

“You’re in love with him,” he repeats.

“Yeah, probably have been for years. I think I liked you because you were, like, if George were a superhero. I got so caught up in wanting to share this side of my life with him that I got confused.”

“Right,” he deadpans. What the fuck is happening right now.

“I hate to ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ you but it really is me. I hope we can still be friends?”

“Right,” he repeats. “Sure, yeah we can. It’s, uh, no big deal.”

Dream smiles at him bright and beautiful. “Great! See you around then. Happy holidays, Spidey.”

And he’s flying off into the distance.

Well, George thinks. Now what.

George spends Christmas eve patrolling. He’s been swinging for hours by now and he’s almost bumped into about 4 different poles and one Christmas tree because he was so distracted.

Dream loves him.  

It’s a thought that repeats in his head all night.

It;s not until midnight that he decides to take a break. He’s just gotten back to his apartment when his phone rings.

Dream is calling him.

“Hello?” he picks up.

“Hey, George. I know it’s been a while, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” George tries his hardest to keep his voice steady. “How have you been?’

“Actually, that’s why I called. I’ve been thinking about what you said. Can you come over? You can stay for Christmas just like we used to.”

George can’t think of anything to say so he just agrees.

“Great! I’ll see you in 20?”

“See you in 20.” and he hangs up the phone.

He’s nervous the entire car ride there. Not for the first time he resents his alter ego. He likes Dream and he like him back but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it. If he finds out that George is Spider-Man, he’ll never want to see him again. And, just for once, he wants to be selfish. He wants to keep Dream, even if he’ll never know him fully.

If having to keep so much of himself secret from him is the only way to keep him then so be it.

He gets to Baxter Building in 25 minutes. The holiday rush delaying his trip by a little bit. Dream lets him in when he knocks. He’s nervous. George doesn’t need to hear his heartbeat to know that.

“I missed you,” Dream says. It’s so incredibly earnest that George almost wants to shake him.

Stop it. Don’t miss me. Nothing good will come out of  this. But instead he says, “I missed you too.”

George is selfish, that he knows.

“I wanted to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

George gets a sense of deja vu.

“I love you, George. I think I always have. And I was stupid to think that you wouldn’t understand me, even the lame hero bits,” he laughs. “I’m just sorry it took me this long to realize. You’re my best friend. I don’t think anyone would understand me better than you.”

“I–” George starts but the hair on the nape o f his neck pickles. His entire body is strung alert and he knows, deep down, that something is very wrong.

He thinks back to the first time that he and Dream had found themselves up at the Statue of Liberty. The feeling of panic and dread, it’s the same as what he’s feeling now.

The cloaked figure. The van. The scrap metal.

Something bad is happening.

“I have to go,” he tells him. “I’m sorry, I just have to go”

“What?” Dream stands up, walking with him as he makes his way out the door. “George, look, you don’t have to say anything. I don’t care if you don’t–”

“Dream, I’m serious.” George places a hand on his chest to stop him in his tracks. “I have to go.”

George doesn’t look back as he leaves. But if he had, he would’ve seen the crumpled look on Dream’s face, eyes downcast and crestfallen as he walks away. 

George swings straight to the abandoned Oscorp lab. He knows that they never tried to fix the place, not after the accident that killed Dr. Otto. There must be equipment left behind. Advanced and dangerous equipment that could be used for something truly evil.

He swings in quietly. His feet are feather-light so as to not alert whoever is rummaging about the old Oscorp tech that he’s here.

He makes it to the lab and sees that it’s been cleared. None of the old pieces of broken metal are anywhere to be seen. On the main computer, there’s a chip plugged into it, but it looks worn down and broken, like it had been fried.

“I see you’ve finally made your way here, Spider-Man.”

He whips around, facing the direction of the voice only to find the room still empty.

“Who’s there?” he shouts.

“Aww, I’m a little hurt you don’t recognize me. After all, you did look up to me, didn’t you George?” and as he says that a figure approaches from the shadows. His face is familiar and his voice even more so. He keeps walking until he steps into the light and only then does George realize who it is.

“Dr. Otto?”

“Surprised to see me?”

“But the accident. You were… I saw you. I saw you die!”

He walks around the room, circling it and getting closer and closer to him. “But did you really?”

“I… I did. The arms malfunctioned and it attacked. You were on the ground, I saw it happen.”

“Do you mean these arms?” he asks. Voice cold and sinister as 8 metallic arms slink out from behind him.at the very end of them are claws, making their way to him. Right as it’s about to sink into him, George dodges and runs, never having felt this kind of terror before.

“These arms are what saved me. I was useless before, but now, I am stronger. I can take you down and New York will never hear from you again. There will be no one to mourn the pathetic Spider-Man.”

Each step he takes an arm impales itself onto the floor, crushing the cement and shaking the floor.

“Dr. Otto, please,” George begs. He has to still be in there. The arms start swinging at him. He does his best to dodge and fight them off but the metal moves like it’s alive. 8 vs 1 doesn’t sound like fair odds. This is proven to him when he’s flung across the room by one of the arms. He hits the wall, breath knocking out of his lungs.

He tries to get up but the claw of the arm opens and slams into him, trapping him in place.

“Dead mom. Dead dad. No one knows your real identity except me. And once I kill you, I’ll make sure that you will die alone and unknown”

“Dr. Otto,” he repeats.

“It’s Doc Ock, now,” he says. An arm is raised. The claw opens to reveal a sharp end of it. George panics, twisting and turning, trying to shove the metal arm off him but it won’t budge. Then his eyes fell on a cabinet near him. He quickly shoots a web at it and drags it forward with all his might. The cabinet hits Doc Ock from behind causing him to stumble. His metal arms scramble to catch his fall, all eight of them, going to the floor to keep him upright. Which means he’s freed.

George quickly gets away. This isn’t Dr. Otto anymore, he’s long gone. Whoever this is cannot be the same person he used to know.

Once Doc Ock is righted, he makes a beeline for George. He’s throwing punches at him, left and right and from every direction possible. George uses his surroundings to help him. He slings around a potted plant, ducks behind a wall. He’s climbing to the ceiling trying to avoid him.

Then he remembers the chip. The original experiment, the one that caused the accident, was to create bionic arms to help deal with the radioactive materials that Oscorp often deals with. It would be controlled by the wearer’s mind by using a neural inhibitor chip inserted at the nape of his neck. But it had gone horribly wrong and the mechanical arms started moving of their own volition, as if they were alive.

George was there when it happened. He was interning for Oscorp for the summer. He worked closely with Dr. Otto. He was even there when the neural inhibitor chip was created. George never expected everything to go so wrong.

He has to get that chip.

Doc Ock lunges at him again and this time he hits him. George goes flying out of the window, nearly falling on the pavement if it weren’t for his quick webbing.

“Is that the best you can do, Spider-Man?” He says his name with such disdain it makes George feel sick.

George doesn’t say anything back as he scrambles his way back inside the building. But as he steps through the window an arm catches him and he’s stuck once again.

“It’s time I finish this,” he spits out. Doc Ock scales the building with his arms, each one digging into the walls. Debris of cement goes flying at every step.

“Dr. Otto, I know you’re in there. Please. Just let me remove the chip and–”

“Dr. Otto is dead. Now shut up before I throw you off here. I have other plans for you.”

They make it up to the very top of the building. The arm that’s wrapped around him is getting tighter and tighter. His breathing becomes shallow and he’s losing feeling in his arms.

A calm washes over George as he realizes that there’s no way out of this. He can’t move his arms and he’s about to pass out any minute.

He’s going to die on Christmas day.

George hopes that Dream won’t be too mad at him.

Just as his vision is starting to blur, the bright flame rushes through the sky.

“Let him go,” Dream demands. George doesn’t know how he got here or how he knew where he’d be but he’s glad to see him.

“Fine,” Doc Ock snarls. He then flings George as hard as he can to the wall. His lungs seize at the chance for air but his entire body is heavy. He can’t get up. He can see from a distance that Dream is fighting Doc Ock. he’s throwing flameballs at him, his hands ablaze as he lunges for him. But Doc Ock is quick and his 4 arms are moving him fast.

When he finally manages to get up it’s too late. A chill runs down his spine and he can feel the air shift. The claw from his arm opens wide and a bright light builds up at the center.

“Dream!” he calls out, trying to warn him but it’s too late. Dream is looking at him when the blast hits.

Doc Ock turns his attention to him. “How are you still alive!?” he exclaims. He tries to grab at him but George is too quick. He makes swift movement, slinging webs to keep the arms together. He throws a punch, his fist landing heavily against his face. While he’s still reeling from the punch, George snatches the chip and crushes it in his hand.

Doc Ock crumples to the ground, his mechanical arms falling limp but George doesn't care. He rushes to get to Dream’s side.

He’s lying prone on the floor.  His suit is intact, the incombustible material doing it’s job of withstanding heat. George leans his head against his chest, trying to listen for Dream’s heartbeat but there’s nothing there. His own stomach is in knots, his heart is beating so fast he wishes he could send every other heartbeat into Dream’s. He gathers him in his arms, trying to will him awake.

“Dream, come on, come on,” he begs him.

George thinks about all the moments he spent hiding behind the Spider-Man mask. All the confusion and pain he caused from keeping this secret. In the process of trying to protect Dream from his own life, he manages to hurt him, destroying his trust in a way he doesn’t know if they can come back from.

George takes a leap of faith and removes his mask.

If the worst comes, and god he hopes it doesn’t, he can’t spend these last few moments still hiding behind the mask.

“Come on, Dream. Wake up, please.”

It seems all too hopeless now. Likes he’s wishing on a satellite, missing all the stars. Dream is still in his arms and he can’t do anything about it.

George sobs. For the first time since he lost his parents, he lets himself cry.

He’s weeping into Dream’s shoulder when he feels him twitch.

“Dream?”

Please, please, please, he thinks.

Dream opens his eyes slowly. He’s blinking awake and all george can do is collapse into his arms.

“Spider-Man?” he asks.

George gets himself together long enough to pull away from him. George faces him, mask off and bare. He feels cracked open this way, like Dream is staring right through him.

“George.” Dream can’t hide the astonishment in his voice.

George chuckles wetly at him, wiping away his tears. “Yeah,” is all he can say.

Dream smiles, as pained as he is, and says, “Is this why you rejected me earlier.”

“You rejected me first, idiot.”

“Well, you can kiss me now.”

“I’m taking you to your sister.”

“No, no just kiss me first. George, come on, I almost died.”

“Medic first,” George stands his ground. “Then maybe later.”

Dream is smiling the entire time George swings him back to Baxter Building.  

It takes Dream an entire week to get better. The blast didn’t hurt him on surface-level, but he absorbed the heat of it too much, too fast. It caused his energy levels and body temperature to drop drastically. He spends the week walking around in hoodies and sweatpants and socks clad on his feet, snuggling into George’s hands. His temperature would spike at random times and remain low for the entire day. Flames became hard to summon for him, which made him a liability on the field.

Sue instructed George to keep an eye on him. Don’t let him out of the house, she said. So he did. They went kind of stir crazy in the process and in their boredom, Dream posts a picture of them on twitter.

It’s a picture of them on the couch, George with his mask on (per Dream’s request) as he rests his head on Dream’s shoulder.

As expected, the media goes crazy.

THE DAILY BUGLE

THE HUMAN TORCH, TANGLED UP IN SPIDER-MAN’S WEB? WILL IT END UP IN FLAMES?

Written By: J. Jonah Jameson.

This past Thursday, The Human Torch posted a picture that shook New York City to its core. With no caption or explanations, the picture posted of them depicted the two heroes stuck at home, possibly due to the alleged battle with scientist turned villain, Dr. Otto “Doc Ock” Octavius. He was brought to the authorities by the Fantastic Four while The Human Torch followed suit, unconscious in the vigilante Spider-Man’s arms. Many speculated that Spider-Man had some doing in the fiery hero’s state, but was quickly shut down by a statement from Invisible Woman.

“Spider-Man is a good friend of the Fantastic Four. I would even go as far as to calling him family. [...] He had no involvement in this,” End of quote.

In the picture, Spider-Man is seen in casual clothes paired with his mask as he rests his head against The Human Torch’s shoulder. This leads the Daily Bugle to believe that Torch is well aware of Spider-Man’s true civilian identity.

When we reached out for a statement, there was no reply.

The romantic picture has been taken by the public as a signal from the two of a relationship status, making ‘Spider-Man’ ‘Human Torch’ and ‘Spideytorch’ trend on twitter for several days,

Other Superhero personalities and close family friends have commented under the picture, ranging from surprise, support, and even anger.

Sue @invisiblewoman

<3

Reed Richards @mrfantastic

Happy for you two! Tell spidey to come over for dinner soon

Ben Grimm @thething

Crazy kids

STARK @TheRealTony11

Did not expect this outcome. Well congrats! Tell your friend George to hit me up if he still wants that internship

|

Reed Richards @mrfantastic

He’s very happy interning for me.

Black cat @badluck

guess I missed my chance. we should catch up tho

Sapnap @pandas

WHAT THE HELL??? CALL ME

Despite the overwhelming support, many still wonder if this partnership is a good thing. I, for one, want to know how it is exactly that Torch can manage to help keep Spider-Man’s identity a secret knowing that he’s currently wanted by the police and has a warrant out for arrest. Many others voice this same complaint.

bobert @10

NOOO i liked you torch

kev | FUCK SPIDERMAN @11

You can clearly see that spider-freak is manipulating torch. We need to help him.

|

asstoria @12

totally agree !

SEVEN OUT NOW @13

he must be fugly as hell under that mask

DNI SPIDEYTORCH @14

anyone else think its weird that theyre baiting their stupid audience with this picture? like there are actual gay people suffering out there. this is just so disgusting

As a civilian, there is no guarantee for safety knowing that this Spider-Menace is walking around New York as a free man and under the protection of our beloved Fantastic Four. Is this truly what superhero work has become? Can we really not trust the ones we expect to keep our streets safe and clean from criminals?

The Daily Bugle urges its readers to stay safe.

“Did you see the article that Jameson put out?” Dream asks him.

It’s nearing noon by now and the two of them are still in bed, too comfortable to get out.

“The one about you harboring and protecting a known dangerous criminal? Yeah, it was a little funny.”

Dream moves them around until George is resting against his chest, right where his heartbeat would be.

“How is that funny?”

“It’s ‘cause he hates me so much and I work for him. I’m like 1000% sure he’d burst a blood vessel if he found out my identity.”

Dream laughs and George can feel it more than he can hear it. It’s a luxury he knows he should appreciate.

“That would be really funny,” he notes.

They stay there for hours, doing nothing but exist with each other. It’s freeing to know that there’s no more secrets between them but the guilt from his actions still stays.

Later that night, George presses his lips to the center of Dream’s back wishing that his apology would go straight into his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he tells him.

“What for?”

“All the lying I did. I don’t know how you can look at me.”

Dream sighs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend to comfort and soothe his worries. “I will admit it was embarrassing to tell you that I liked you without knowing I was talking to you. Twice.”

George groans and buries his face deeper into the crook of his neck.

“But it doesn’t matter, webs.” Dream kisses his temple hoping to drill it into his head. “You did what you thought was right. It worked out in the end didn’t it? I got both my happy endings.”

“You’re so dumb,” he says. But his heart clenches at the ease that Dream can forgive him.

“Okay, I'll take that. Hindsight is 20/20 but I don’t know how I didn’t clock you the moment I heard you speak. Your voice is exactly the same but, like muffled.”

“Do you think I should get Reed to make me something for that?”

“Probably not. I mean, all of us have heard you speak as Spider-Man and none of us caught on.”

George laughs, “a family of idiots.”

“Hey,” he reprimands. “This is your family too.”

George is filled with so much gratitude for them. The years they spent making sure he felt comfortable, that he knew he had a place to go to. All the science fairs and math contests that Sue and Reed had attended for him. They were family, long before this superhero business came into their lives.

“Oh my god,” Dream whispers.

“What?”

“You can’t tell anyone yet,” Dream insists.

“Okay, fine I won’t. Tell me.”

“Sue is pregnant.”

His eyes widened at the news. “Are you serious?”

“We’re gonna be uncles!” Dream exclaims.

“We are not prepared to be uncles, Dream. You’re gonna spoil that kid rotten,” George shakes his head.

“Well what else am I supposed to do? This is the first baby in the family, of course I’m gonna earn my spot as the favorite uncle.”

“You do that,” he mutters.

George jokes but he knows that Dream will be a good uncle. Even without all the gifts he’s inevitably buying for them, they’ll love him so much. He’s good with kids and bursts into flame, who wouldn’t like that?

“We should get in the bath,” Dream suggests.

“Why so suddenly?’

“Just to relax, I don’t know.”

It makes George giggle a little. “We’ve been relaxing all day.”

“There’s no such thing as too much relaxing,” he says and pulls George into the bathroom.

Later, when they’ve gone pruney and the water is starting to get cold, Dream whispers a confession into the still air.

“You scared me today.”

“Did I?” George questions. I’m sorry is what he really means.

“When I said I loved you. You just ran.”

“I’m sorry, Dream. I couldn’t explain.”

“I know that now. But when it was happening all I could think was that you hated me. I pushed you away.”

George curses himself for putting him in that position. He hates that it took him too long to understand that secrets would never work with them. He hates that it took Dream’s heart stopping for him to get it.

He searches for the sound of his heartbeat and is pleased to find it still there.

“You could never make me hate you,” George admits.

“Sure I could. What if I, like, locked you away and hid you from everyone? You would hate me then.”

“Maybe,” George agrees. “But I'd probably still love you underneath all of it.”

“I would still love you too,” Dream confesses. He leans in to kiss him and all George can think is I would love you no matter what.  

“I fell in love with you without knowing that it was you,” Dream notes.

“That’s different,” he argues. “You fell in love with Spider-Man.”

“But I liked him because he was you. I liked the George that peeked through the Spider-Man suit.”

George smiles at him because he doesn’t know what else to offer. His heart is heavy with the weight of the love he carries for him, like a mountain on top of a leaf.

“You’re such a romantic,” George teases but truly, deep down, he means it. He loves that Dream wears his heart on his sleeve. He loves that he glues himself to his side at all times that he can. He loves that Dream loves him.

“Yeah, that’s me. The Human Torch, ‘heartbreaker heartthrob.’”

George giggles into Dream’s skin. “Which of the magazines called you that?”

“It was actually Mole Man.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not! I swear it. He said it in his cheesy villain monologue, all disdain and hatred, blah blah blah.”

George laughs until his stomach hurts. Nothing is particularly funny about what Dream said, he thinks he might just be too in love for his own good.

“Why don’t any villains give me nice nicknames? All they call me is ‘freak’ and ‘bug-boy.’”

 “I think that one suits you,” Dream chuckles.

“Whatever. Villains are so bad with names anyway, it’s unbelievable. What sense does ‘Doc Ock’ have? Sounds like doc cock if you say it fast enough.”

Dream’s laugh carries through the air like sunlight. “Yeah, some are just bad or boring. Like ‘Spider-Man.’ Where’s the creativity?”

“Alright, alright,” George rolls his eyes. “Let’s give it up for The Human Torch, the most creative hero name of all time.”

“You’re such a little idiot,” Dream scoffs but then he’s pressing kisses all over his face. His cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids. Kisses on him falling like delicate snow on Christmas morning.

The moment stretches until they’re both sitting still in the tub.

“I love you,” George tells him. “I don’t think I got to say it properly before, so there. I love you.”

Dream looks at him like he’s the sun. There are no words that he can say to express his heart. Even ‘I love you’ seems crude. So he says nothing and kisses George in the silence.

They continue on as normal. They keep it professional when George is out of uniform, not wanting someone to see them and claim that Dream’s been cheating on him, even if it is with himself.

Dream gives him closet space in his room and George moves basically all his things into Baxter Building. He still stays at his apartment most days to be with his Aunt but there’s less of the uncertainty, no more of wondering when they’d meet again and as who. Without trying, they’ve become settled down. Life becomes easy.

There will always be someone to fight, another big bad to stop, but it’s bearable. They share everything with each other. There’s comfort in the way they can confide in each other. No secrets or mistaken identities. Whether they’re Dream and George or Spider-Man and The Human Torch, it’s all the same.

George likes to think that it’s the same in any other universe. Maybe in one they met later in life, when they’ve accomplished more things apart. In another universe George doesn’t move to New York and Dream stays in Orlando. He likes to think they still would’ve made it work, still would’ve found their way to each other. There’s a universe where George runs a bakery and Dream is his top customer. They still would’ve ended up where they are now. In a world where Dream is Spider-Man and George is the Human Torch, the ending stays the same. One where they’re stuck in a maze, pawns for something bigger than them. In a kill or be killed world, their lives made a spectacle. Where George is a vampire and Dream is a werewolf. Where Dream is a hunter and George is an angel. Where they’re normal people, doing normal people things. Every single one of those worlds tie back to the core of it.

They’re made for each other.

Even if the world was flipped inside out and they were unrecognizable, there is a Dream waiting for every George. And each George will love their Dream with everything they have, until the world implodes and there’s nothing left but stardust.