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“Hey Spidey, the scanner’s picking up some criminal activity about 50 meters away,” Chenle announces into his repurposed gaming headset. Leaning forward in his rolling chair, he takes a closer look at his second monitor. “Looks like a robbery in progress.”
“Copy that, Lucky!” the voice replies, strangely upbeat given the ungodly time.
It’s currently 2:37 AM, and Chenle is running operations for his friendly neighborhood Spider-man. He glances at the monitor displaying the camera footage straight from Spider-man’s suit, watching him close the distance, easily scaling buildings and crossing streets.
"Alright, I have eyes on our guys. Let's see if we can't take care of this before the cops show up. The last thing we need is this situation to escalate–" He manages to web one of the robbers to the alley wall, but loses the sight of the other. “Where’d the other one go?”
Chenle’s already on it, looking at local security camera footage to track him down. “He’s turning on 14th,” Chenle states calmly into his headset. His voice is steady but his heart is pounding in his chest, eyes glued to the monitor.
“I see him,” Spider-man, easily swinging to the next building and making his way towards the would-be robber.
“Careful there, looks like he’s armed,” Chenle warns, not able to look away. This is the terrifying part of the gig. The not being able to physically help. He does what he can to stay vigilant – keep him up to date, watch his back, be his eyes. He sees the web fluid spraying out, ensnaring the robber and pinning him to the metal dumpster lining the alleyway. Spider-man easily retrieves the bag he had almost gotten away with. Chenle can barely make out the sound of a gracious woman thanking Spider-man, and that’s when he can finally relax his shoulders.
Teaming up with the webbed wonder was easy enough. Chenle followed his Instagram religiously, never missing a post. Chenle figured he was known for being the friendly neighborhood superhero, so he sent him a DM offering his services. Spider-man was immediately receptive to getting a “guy in the chair”. Spider-man had a fairly comprehensive vetting process held almost exclusively over Discord, but Chenle had a pretty remarkable resume for a college sophomore. Or, his anonymous moniker “LuckyCat” did, anyway. The rest, as they say, is history.
Spider-man has made his way to the top of a nearby building, taking a well-deserved breather. Chenle sends in an anonymous tip to the authorities to the robbers’ locations.
“Thanks for watching my back,” Spider-man says after a long exhale. He leans back, getting comfortable on the rooftop. He laughs lightly. “You really are my lucky charm.”
Chenle rolls his eyes, despite being kind of endeared by Spider-man’s friendly little flirtations at this point. He thinks he’s developed some sort of mild form of Stockholm Syndrome.
“Someone will be coming around to get these two.” Chenle informs him, turning his attention back to the location of the Spidey-tracker. “How the hell did you end up all the way in Union?” Chenle groans into his headset. “Weren’t you patrolling in Harlem, like, 30 minutes ago?”
“I told you,” Spider-man shoots back breezily, “I get around.” Chenle sighs. This is the guy he chooses to spend all his time with. And he likes it, unfortunately.
“Sooo,” Spider-man says, voice lilting upwards, “What are you doing tomorrow night?” Like he even had to ask.
“I think I can pencil you in.” Chenle replies, feeling generous and playing along.
“You’re amazing~”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, man.”
They both look out on the horizon, settling into comfortable silence. It’s impossible to see the stars in the city, but all the distant lights leaking from faraway windows are a good enough facsimile.
“Scanner’s pretty quiet now,” Chenle says after a beat of silence.
“I may call it a night then,” Spider-man concedes, “Got an early class tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me too,” Chenle adds absently, mind starting to shut down. They try not to share any identifiable information, but little things tend to slip through every now and then in the early morning hours. Truthfully, they may both be habitual over-sharers. “And you’ve got to haul ass all the way to Queens.” Chenle says, cackle booming over the comm line.
“At least I'm not an Upper-East-sider," Spider-man dishes back. Chenle lets out an indignant snort at that.
“Bye Spidey."
“Night, Lucky.”
The comm link goes silent. Chenle checks the time – 3:40 already? He’d be hurting tomorrow, for sure. He tosses his phone face-down onto his dresser before collapsing into his bed, eyes shutting before his head even hits the pillow. He doesn't even bother to check if he set his alarm, he just lets sleep take him.
🕸
Chenle slinks into his Machine Learning class, hood pulled over his head in an attempt to conceal his disheveled hair and dark circles. His trophies for a long night of helping the city.
Any other day, you’d find Chenle tucked under his blankets until at least noon. He loaded up on afternoon and evening classes for the semester. Despite being borderline nocturnal, the professor for this computing course only offered it at one time slot a semester. And Chenle needs this course – to graduate and to assist with his extracurricular activities.
He checks the time before laying his head down on the desk in front of him. Squeezing his eyes shut to escape the oppressive overhead fluorescent lights. His ears prick up at the sound of a certain classmate entering the room. Impossibly upbeat despite the early starting time, he walks into class with one of his upperclassmen friends and a diet coke in tow, laughing at something one of them must have said.
Chenle and Mark had become acquainted after being assigned as partners for the first project of the semester. Shortly after exchanging introductions, Chenle had come to find that Mark was not a normal guy. He wasn’t even in the Computer Science department. He was just taking this class as an elective. He was a double major – Chemical engineering and photography, of all things. He studied like his goddamn life depended on it. He was also super involved on campus, and always on the move.
Chenle was immediately fascinated with him and couldn’t help the way he seemed to focus on him.
What solidified the friendship was a grueling all-nighter pulled right before their deadline. Their warrior's bond forged over hysterical brainstorming sessions and 2 AM food delivery all crowned by passing the assignment with soaring colors. Developing a big fat crush on him had taken place somewhere between all the schoolwork, 1-on-1 basketball sessions, and looking into his big, brown eyes for too long.
Chenle is shaken from his thoughts when Mark offers him a friendly smile and a wave from his seat across the room next to his friend. Chenle gives a wave back, noting the signs of tiredness Mark has underneath his wire-framed glasses. Chenle brushes it off, knowing he literally can’t keep himself still. He’s always rushing off, staying busy with multiple organizations and a demanding job.
Class is just about to start when Jisung all but tumbles into the seat next to him, face flushed and bangs slightly damp.
“Made it!” he sighs out, exasperated and wide-eyed. Chenle can’t help but snicker at him. He's perpetually late and only took this class because Chenle was. They had at least one class together every semester, thanks to their slightly codependent friendship.
As the professor explains the finer points of neural networks, Chenle fights against his heavy eyelids and scrawls down notes in his own shorthand. Jisung has declared his notes unreadable to anyone but himself. He glances Mark’s way, just barely making out his ultra-organized notes. Twenty minutes into class his phone buzzes violently, notification from the Spidey-scanner app flashing across the screen. He glances up, giving the room a quick survey. The professor is hard at work, writing out diagrams on the whiteboard. He sees a few people - Mark included - on their phones, but the majority of the room is divided between students diligently taking notes and people struggling to stay awake. Thank god this class is so early.
Before Chenle can take a good look at what the scanner was picking up, a message from the webbed wonder himself popped on his screen.
SPIDEY: I got this one
No interference needed
Hope you’re having a good day :)LUCKY: alright
let me know if you need backup
Chenle sets his phone face-up on his desk and relaxes back into his chair. He trusts Spider-man, trusts that he will ask for help if he needs it. His eyes eventually wander over to Mark’s seat, but to Chenle’s surprise it was empty. When did he leave? Wasn’t he just there? When he takes another look, even his stuff is gone. Mark's beloved Jansport backpack gone from its usual spot under the table; he's clearly not coming back.
Chenle tries to shut up the nagging voice in his head that tells him that Mark leaving as soon as the scanner went off is not a coincidence and instead focus on what he's actually meant to be learning. By sheer willpower alone he tunes into the professor for the rest of the morning session. He spends the rest of class scratching down notes with messy handwriting and underlining important points, with Jisung wearing a troubled expression as he takes his own notes beside him.
When class lets out, Chenle immediately turns his attention back to Mark's disappearance. He really never came back to class, and that has Chenle’s mind spinning. While he and Jisung make their way out of the building, Chenle whips his phone out and shoots Mark a message.
CHENLE: you ok? you never came back to class
Chenle watches the dots bounce as Mark types out his response.
MARK: I had to step out it was kinda urgent
Nothing serious though!CHENLE: yeah man no problem
I’ll send them later tonightMARK: Appreciate you man :)
🕸
Obviously Mark isn’t Spider-man.
Or, that’s what Chenle spent the next few weeks trying to convince himself. He tried to dismiss it as something akin to wishful thinking – the very person he’s been forging a friendship with for months is none other than the friend he was harboring a huge crush on? It seems way too convenient.
But when he really took a step back and looked, it was so obvious.
Mark isn’t exactly flaky, if he makes plans with someone he follows through. But he does make unexpected exits far more frequently than the average person. Chenle had chalked it up to Mark's busy schedule, and he guesses that's still the case if he's moonlighting as the city's preeminent superhero.
There's other things that connect the two, little things that Chenle knows for a fact that Spider-man sells his own photos to one of the local papers. Mark is literally minoring in photography, and has mentioned his freelance work at a local paper to Chenle more than a few times.
The more he connects, the more Chenle starts mentally slamming his head against the wall. Isn’t he supposed to be the clever one? The brains behind the operation? His mind keeps conjuring up more connections between Spider-man and Mark.
Like, how casually strong Mark is. Chenle’s seen him scale a basketball hoop way too easily when their ball got stuck in the middle of a game. And as much as Chenle skulked around the university gym, he’s never seen Mark around. Even more glaringly obvious was the build. Chenle spent enough time subtly checking out Mark’s ass that he should have noticed how hauntingly familiar Spider-man’s was.
The more he thinks, the more his brain conjures up and one particularly damning moment hits Chenle like a bus. Something Spider-man had let slip during one of their first post-patrol talks together.
"How did you even come up with the name Lucky Cat?”
“People always tell me I resemble a cat. And that I was born lucky.” Chenle shrugs, “Besides, Golden Cat was taken.”
“Golden? As in?” Spider-man asks in a tone that leaves Chenle assuming he’s raising his brow at him questioningly.
“Golden State Warriors. Duh.” Chenle says plainly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Not a Knicks fan?” Spider-man sighs, and Chenle can practically hear the disappointed face he’s making.
“I’m not even from New York!” Chenle shoots back, trying to defend himself. “I was born in a completely different country!”
“So was I!” Spider-man returns quickly. “But what kind of New Yorker doesn’t like the Knicks? It’s, like a tradition to jump on the Knicks bandwagon once you become a New Yorker–”
“Hold on, stop.” Chenle halts the conversation, shutting him down. “You’re not even a native New Yorker?” He hears Spider-man laugh sheepishly.
“Yeaaaah. Don’t tell anybody but," Spider-man starts, voice lowering as if they were being listened to, "I’m originally from Vancouver.”
Being from Vancouver was one of the first things Mark had shared about himself with Chenle, after Chenle mentioned he was born and raised in Shanghai before going to the US for high school.
That was the final straw. All the pieces of the puzzle were fitting together, and it was starting to make Chenle a little insane.
Ok. So Mark probably was Spider-man.
🕸
“Do you think we’ve ever met?” Spider-man – well, Mark – asks absently, “Like in real life?”
He's sitting at the top of some building in Hell’s Kitchen, feet dangling off the edge of the roof, watching the city’s horizon. Chenle’s leaned back in his chair, feet kicked out onto his desk, taking in the same sight across the monitors. Their post-patrol ritual at this point.
Chenle freezes once he processes what “Spider-man” actually said. There’s NO way he knows. There’s no way Mark knows the person he works with – the person that he depends on for literal life saving information – is the same guy that sits across the room from him in his college computing class. He’s been more careful with maintaining his anonymity, giving no real obvious hints that he and Lucky are one and the same. Still, Mark knows Chenle. He might have picked up on something along the way.
“M-maybe…” Chenle finally chokes out, the tentative timbre of his voice sounding foreign to himself. It feels dishonest to reject the notion entirely.
"I was just thinking…I don't think I could do this whole thing without you." he continues, "I mean, I would still be out here trying to help people, but it wouldn't be the same. You do so much for me – for the city! – and I don't even know who you are."
For once in his life, Chenle is struggling to come up with a response to that. Everything he tries to say is caught in the back of his throat, too wedged in there to make its way out.
"Thank you," Mark finally says, cutting through the silence, "...is what I'm getting at. This whole thing. It wouldn't work without you. So, thank you."
Chenle can hear the sincerity dripping from his words. He can practically see Mark's little smile, the sweet one that feels like a secret between Mark and the recipient. He’s suddenly conscious of his ears heating up, blush creeping across the highest points of his cheeks. It was embarrassing to hear this from Spider-man, his coworker-turned-friend, exponentially more so knowing Mark was the guy behind the mask.
"You're the one actually out there doing the work." he finally manages to get out, "If I can do something to help, it's worth it. I'll help you in any way I can." He continues on, “even if it is just streamlining your operations and patching your mediocre systems."
"Hey, I've never claimed my tech was anything but mediocre!" he shoots back with an easygoing laugh. "I wish you could help patch me up too, though.”
A classic Spider-man line to Chenle’s ears, like Spider-man is once again trying to flirt with him over the comm line. Rather than second-hand embarrassment on behalf of his friend’s lame lines, Chenle’s now dealing with the embarrassing ordeal of them working on him now that he knows who’s dishing them out. He tries to act as normal as he can possibly muster in the circumstance.
"Aww, you need someone to come over and put a bandaid on your boo-boos?" Chenle coos, hoping Mark can somehow hear the patronizing grin plastered on his face. His retort earns him a laugh.
“Sometimes I get a little more than bumps and scrapes. I heal quickly and everything, but I can’t exactly go to the doctor. My insurance rate would go through the roof!” At that, Chenle starts searching for first aid classes near him. Just in case.
Spider-man starts his descent from the building, shooting a web at a shorter building across the street. His web catches a ledge of a fire escape, and he swings down. Chenle can faintly hear the rush of wind when he does. He lands gracefully. From there, he easily closes the distance from the roof to the ground by slowly crawling down the side of the building.
"Anything else you think needs work?" he says, returning to the conversation. "I mean besides my outfit."
"I'm actually a big fan of the outfit,” Chenle is quick to correct him, probably too quick to come off as ‘jokingly’. “No complaints from me on that front."
"Really?!" he lights up. Chenle can imagine Mark’s eyes shining behind the mask, the way he’s seen it right in front of him in person. "Actually, my friend did the design for me! He developed this special type of fabric with, like, extra-directional stretch in it."
"Functional and flattering," Chenle croons. He hears the sweet sound of Spider-man's laugh over the comm, goofy and punctuated like he can hardly breathe. It’s Mark’s laugh, for sure.
"Duuuude!" "I'm just saying, it’s not not doing wonders for your ass.” Chenle states it as a fact. It practically was, if the surplus of tweets about it were any evidence.
"Speaking of," Mark cuts in, feet finally solidly on the ground, "I'm gonna lose the suit in this alley and take the subway back home.”
"Go get some rest, bug boy." Chenle bids him goodnight, tone teasing.
"You too, Lucky,” Mark says, voice tinged with affection.
When they both end the comm line, Chenle flops onto his bed face-first. For the first time in a long time, he feels like screaming into it while he kicks his feet excitedly. He was entering schoolgirl level crush territory. This was getting bad for him.
🕸
"MARK!"
Chenle runs down the street, eyes searching for any flashes of the blue and red of Mark's Spider-man suit. According to the tracking on the suit and the footage from the spidey-cam, Mark couldn't have ended up too far.
Chenle had gotten the news alert in class – train derailment due to complications, Spider-man battling it out with some rogue in a rhinoceros suit in Midtown. His eyes were glued to his phone screen. When he saw the footage of Spider-man getting thrown into the side of a brick building, he flew out of his seat, not even hearing the calls after him.
He makes it a block before finally spotting him – half concealed behind a dumpster and slumped over on the ground. His mask is half torn, the lens of his goggles shattered and exposing his left eye. He looks terrible, but the unlabored rise and fall of his chest lets Chenle know he's at least alive.
“Mark?” Chenle says quietly, kneeling down beside him, reaching out to touch his shoulder gently. "Mark, are you ok?"
“Chenle?” Mark rasps out, voice thick. His eyelids are fluttering open.
“Oh god,” Chenle sighs out, scooting even closer to him.
“I’m ok, it’s ok,” Mark reassures him, beginning to sit upright. He takes off his broken mask, tossing it to the ground. “That guy came out of nowhere. I’m seriously ok, though. Really just knocked the wind out of me–” Mark cuts himself off, suddenly realizing Chenle shouldn’t know who he was. “How did you know where I was?” Mark asks, disoriented.
“The tracker on your suit,” Chenle responds matter-of-factly, holding up his phone in a vague gesture. Confusion colors Mark’s face, looking between Chenle’s face and the phone in his hand several times before the light-bulb finally goes off.
“YOU’RE LUCKY?” Mark blurts out, eyes widening and mouth hanging open.
“You really had no clue?” Chenle asks, furrowing his brows together. He can see Mark going through what he assumes is a montage of irrefutable evidence that Chenle and Lucky are one and the same. His expression goes from confused to acceptance. Chenle feels for him.
“Wooow,” Mark finally exhales, “Of course you're Lucky. I should have clocked that.” He starts to laugh, “What are the odds that the guy I’ve been hitting on for months and getting nowhere with, is my one and only Chenle?”
“Hitting on?” Chenle sputters out, disbelief thick in his voice.
“Were you not picking up on that?” Mark questions, rubbing at the back of his head. “I thought I was being pretty obvious…” He trails off shyly. The irony of the situation is not lost on Chenle, and he buries his head in his hands out of embarrassment.
“I thought that’s just how you are!” Chenle cries out, voice coming out muffled by his own hands. He knows his ears are burning red, and he can’t bring himself to look Mark in the eyes. Instead, he looks up at him through his fingers.
“I like you.” Mark says with certainty, cheeks dusted pink. “If you didn’t know. Lucky or Chenle, you're you."
“Of course you’re confessing to me while we’re sitting in the garbage.” There’s no venom in his voice, just barely-concealed adoration. He finally looks at Mark directly. “I like you too,” Chenle concedes, “Clearly.”
“What now?” Mark asks giddily, smiling up at him softly.
“First of all,” Chenle starts, back to mission-mode, standing up and brushing off his knees. “We need to get you out of here.” He offers Mark his hand and helps him to his feet, noticing the way he winces when he stands fully.
“Right.” Mark agrees after a sharp exhale. Chenle thinks about best course of action for a moment. Obviously Mark's place is too far away for the subway, and Spider-man can't exactly swing them anywhere at the moment.
“We can go to my place?”
🕸
Chenle gives Mark his sweatshirt to cover his costume on the walk to the nearest subway station, as fast as Mark could manage leaning against Chenle for support. Mark, battered up with half of his super suit sticking out, was hardly the weirdest thing on the ride to Chenle's place. By the time they ascend from the Subway station, the sun was setting, sky darkening into indigo and lights causing distant windows to glow.
Chenle’s 5th Avenue doorman shot him a puzzled look over the state of his guest, but Chenle breezed past him with Mark in tow. A friendly smile and a greeting, they were headed up the elevator to the thirty-second floor.
Chenle’s apartment is absurdly large and nice for a single university student living in New York. His parents paid for the place when he moved overseas, and tonight Chenle was thankful for the privacy it offered.
“Sit down anywhere, I’ll get the first-aid kit.” Chenle says before disappearing down the hallway, leaving Mark to sit carefully on the coffee table. Chenle comes back with the first-aid kit as promised, setting it beside Mark and starting to root around in the contents. He produces some alcohol wipes, bandaids, and antibiotic ointment. Chenle stops what he’s doing when he notices Mark’s gaze fixed on him.
“What?”
“Are you going to patch me up?” Mark asks, looking up at him expectantly. Chenle raises an eyebrow at him suspiciously.
“Is this a fantasy of yours or something?” The way Mark avoids looking him in the eyes tells him everything he needs to know at that moment. Chenle snorts, but gets on with tearing open one of the alcohol wipes. Mark closes his eyes, leaning forward, and letting Chenle clean the cuts on his face. Chenle focuses on being gentle while he works. He carefully places bandaids dabbed with ointment over the scrapes on Mark’s forehead and nose.
“There you go.” Chenle says, closing up the first-aid kit. He takes Mark's face in his hands, tilting it to look upwards and inspecting his own work. “The baby's boo-boos are better now."
“Feels like I’m the lucky one, now.” Mark beams at him, looking up at him with his big, sparkly eyes. Chenle shakes his head in a valiant attempt at disapproval, but leans down to plant a kiss square on Mark’s forehead anyways.
“I’m seriously glad you’re okay,” Chenle tells him, tension finally leaving his shoulders as he moves to sit down on the couch.
“Thanks for coming after me,” Mark thanks him, “I’d probably be limping home without you.” He chuckles, feeling equally relieved.
Chenle sinks further into the couch, letting all the frantic energy he had stored up all day seep out of his body. He pats the couch, signaling Mark to come sit with him. Mark takes the opportunity to climb into Chenle’s lap, straddling him and letting him support all his weight.
“Woah there, tiger,” Chenle teases, finding purchase on Mark’s waist. Mark simply tightens his hold around him, and leans farther forward, finding that safe space nestled between Chenle’s neck and shoulder. He sighs happily when Chenle starts to rub circles on his back.
“I’m glad it was you all this time.” Mark murmurs against Chenle’s shoulder. That makes Chenle's heart squeeze in his chest.
After a moment, Mark leans back to look at Chenle. Before he knows it, he’s leaning forward to catch Chenle’s lips. He kisses him strong and sure, like he’s trying to transfer everything he was ever holding back from saying to Chenle. Chenle does his best to reciprocate. When they break apart, Mark has the dopiest smile on his face, though Chenle’s not faring much better with the wide grin he’s sporting.
“You smell,” Chenle notes with a light-hearted laugh, bumping his forehead against Mark’s. Mark lets out a matching snort. “You want to shower while I make us something to eat?” As if on cue, Mark’s stomach responds for him by growling.
“We might be soulmates,” Mark says, tone light but only half-joking.
Freshly showered and stomaches satiated by the stir-fry Chenle made out of whatever he could find in the fridge, Mark and Chenle settled into the softness of the couch. Mark in one of Chenle’s many oversized shirts, Chenle in a worn sweatshirt, warmth seeping into one another. Mark's eyes are shut, head resting on Chenle's shoulder. Chenle's arm is nestlewd behind him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Don't get too comfortable there, bug boy," Chenle says with a light laugh when he notices Mark falling asleep. "You still have to patrol later tonight."
"You're so mean," Mark whines in a sleepy voice, eyes remaining shut.
Chenle hears Mark's breathing even out; confirmation that he's finally fallen asleep. Chenle lets him. Surely the protector of the city deserved to rest. At least until the scanner picks up something.
💙