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It's too much....
Everything is just too much....
Miles hugs his bag of supplies to his chest and hits one of the quick dials on his watch.
He doesn't even notice which one.
He doesn't care.
But he hesitates a moment when the portal opens.... Even tho the travel had been smoothed out some, the journey still seemed exhausting, but he knows he doesn't need to be alone right now, so he forces himself to fall into it and lets the current take him. If the friend on the other side isn't home, he's not actually sure how well he'll handle it.
Careful to land on his back, he immediately recognizes how his landing causes the whole room to rock.
Hobie's boat.
If he was honest, the best possible outcome. It's the least likely place to have unwanted guests.
He tries to sit up and hates how impossible the task feels. He wants so badly to find Hobie and tell them what's happening, but the relief of being here is already setting in so fast. He can't stop his body from giving up.
All he can do is cry.
It feels so stupid.... He's spiderman! He's not even injured or anything! No one would believe him if he said it. If he said that he just can't get up.
His eyes are shut tight and his ruminations are spiraling so terribly that he doesn't notice Hobie until they're lifting him, cradle style.
Most of the tension Miles hadn't noticed he was holding immediately leaves him, and he takes in a deep breath. Had he been holding it? He can't remember.
"I've got ya, sunseed. I see you." Hobie's voice rumbles comfortingly against Miles' side as they talk, and he buries his face in their shoulder, finding the soft fabric of their sleep clothes instead of their battle jacket, and not caring where they're taking him. "You remembered your kit. Good one. Let's get you all set up, ey?" Miles nods against their shoulder and grips their top with a tight fist.... then feels it rip. Can't stand up but can still ruin your friends clothes with spider strength? Stupid....
He whimpers.
"Hush with that. These clothes have seen worse and it's nothin I can't fix. Don't you fret." Their words are reassuring, but Miles can still feel his fingers anxiously sticking to the fabric and is certain he's going to rip it worse.
"St- uck," Miles can barely make himself say it before Hobie is setting him on the bed. They kneel so Miles doesn't have to let go.
"Yeah. I can feel it. Take your time. And you ain't gotta talk, mate."
Miles nods, then anxiously checks their color scheme for any hint of anger, as if he doesn't know that their themes aren't that clear cut....
Neutral. That's good, right? Hobie speaks again before he can overthink it.
"You wanna change into your cat?"
Miles nods again, then remembers the soft bundle he's crushing with his other arm. He holds it out to Hobie, his hands still too stuck to be useful. They reach in and, instead of his kigu, they pull out his stuffed cat, Mary Pawsa.
He grabs her with both hands and presses her belly to his face to inhale deeply. She smells like all of his friends at the same time. Like movie nights and sleep overs.
It takes him a moment to realize that she helped him unstick his hands... that Hobie helped him....
Hobie's so cool....
Miles lowers MP from his face then bumps his forehead to Hobie's briefly, making them chuckle and shift colors to their pink and yellow set. They usually turn these colors when they laugh.
"You're welcome, bruv. Now get out of that hoodie, yeah?"
Miles nods and grabs the bottom hem to lift it. He's only half way when he can feel his arms giving up. He's sure he'll start crying again if he lets them fall, but Hobie catches his hands and helps him the rest of the way.
So cool....
Miles can feel his brain getting dumber.... Giving up like the rest of him.
Hobie pulls out the kigu and sets it around Miles' shoulders, flipping the hood up onto his head. He lets go of MP, one hand at a time, to shove his arms through each sleeve while Hobie takes off his shoes and socks. Then he flips both of the paws on and hugs MP tight. He loves the feeling of hugging her with his arms on~
He's is startled when Hobie suddenly lifts him by the armpits and turns their sharp blue and pink. He mostly remembers Hobie doing really cool stuff when these colors.
"Alright. Kick your feet in~"
Miles laughs. He hadn't even thought about the legs of his suit. He kicks his feet back, latching them into the legs of the cat easily. He doesn't fit them in right, but it's good enough. Hobie sets him back onto the bed and pulls the ankles of the kigu up to beneath his knees where he likes. He tries to button it up himself but realizes he doesn't want to take his paws off....
Hobie finishes buttoning him up before he can start feeling upset about it.
"Safe. What next? Bed?"
Miles stares at the pillows next to him and tries to imagine laying on them.... but it doesn't matter. He can't. They're just pillows and he doesn't want them. His head starts to hurt as he thinks about how he should tell Hobie that.
"Shows then?"
Miles hugs them, desperate for their correct guess.
But he can't say it.... please...
"Got it." Hobie lifts him without breaking his hug. "Saw your files in the bag. We got um. Whichever you like."
They try to set him on the couch when they get to the living room, but Miles is stuck again. He hugs MP to his chest with his free hand anxiously. He really hopes Hobie turned monochrome just because the room is dark....
"No worries," they say, abandoning that plan. "I can work one handed." They lift Miles onto their hip, and carry him to their large screen. They drop the nearly empty bag on the floor to search through it for the file drive, adjusting Miles to sit on one of their legs as they crouch. They turn on the screen and the light turning them back neutral. "What you thinking? One of your usuals?"
Miles doesn't even try to answer the overwhelming question. So many usuals.... And he doesn't want to bother Hobie by picking one they hate. They probably wouldn't complain if he chose an annoying one so he doesn't want to pressure them like that.
"Maybe that dinosaur one? With the youngers?" they suggest while plugging in the drive and clicking the "shows" folder.
Miles nods against their shoulder. It sounds as good as anything else, and he assumes Hobie wouldn't suggest something they thought was annoying.
Hobie lowers the volume a few levels and clicks for the show to play. They toss the bag and a remote onto the couch before standing, adjusting Miles back onto their hip, and carrying him to the couch. They try to sit with him in their lap, but Miles is certain he can unstick now, so he shifts, thankful that he was right. He leans against their side and is glad they leave their arm around him. They kick up their bare feet onto the coffee table and settle in to watch the show with him, their colors shifting to pink and blue again.
Miles tries to enjoy the show... So why isn't it working? He really wants it to work... He loves this show. Right? What's wrong...? Oh right... Everything...
"Oi, little bruv," Hobie's quiet words and gentle grip on his upper arm pulls him out of his spiraling. He looks up from the carpet and realizes how badly he's slumped over. Hobie looks so worried.... When did they turn blue and orange? "S'alright to say you changed your mind."
Was that what was happening?
What was there to even change his mind to?
His breath hitches.
Hobie snags the remote, turns the volume to 1, tosses it aside again, and then kicks their feet off the table to properly turn to MIles. He feels his tears spill before he even realizes they were building. Hobie pulls him into a hug. He tries the stop the tears, clenching his teeth and gripping MP tightly. He thought he was done crying!
"It's ok if this is what you need, mate." They hug him tighter. "I got you."
They gently pull him to lay down across the couch with them so that the hug will be more comfortable, then sandwiches him against the back of the couch to deepen the feeling. "You're safe," they say quietly, pressing Miles' forehead into their chest, letting his shirt soak up the tears again.
The urge to fight against his own feelings finally lets go, and Miles gasps for breath he had desperately been trying to take. It's followed by an embarrassingly pathetic sob. He lets Mary Pawsa stay smooshed between them as he wraps his arms tightly around Hobie's waist, squeezing them like his life depended on it, thankful to have someone who can handle his strength. He weeps freely into their shirt, even wiping his face against them and shifting it to find dryer spots. Hobie allows all of it, occasionally giving reminders of "It's alright", "I've got you", and "You're safe."
Miles feels like he stays there for hours, but he doesn't have the energy to find out by the time his breathing finally returns to normal and he can hear the tv again. His grip on his friend loosens, and he laughs weakly when he hears one of his favorite jokes.
"There he is," Hobie says with a chuckle and giving Miles' back a rub. "You steady?" Miles takes a deep breath then nods. "Good. Good. You done with your show?" Another nod. "Bed then?" And another nod. "Right then."
Hobie gives them another squeeze, then sits them both up, turns off the show, and scoops Miles up, turning monochrome in the darkness. Miles lets himself be carried back to the bedroom.
"You want to sleep apart?" Hobie asks, back to neutral in the dim light.
Miles shakes his head, smiling.
Hobie sets him on the wider bottom bunk and shoves him towards the wall so they can sit while they fish in the bedside table for bonnets. They make sure Miles has his on before taking off their wet shirt, and he turns away to wait for them. He closes his tired, puffy eyes and listens to them change and click off the light. It's a struggle to not fall asleep before he feels them wrap their arms around him and pull him close against their chest.
"Goodnight, sunseed."
"Goodnight, Hobie."