Chapter Text
Michael James Wheeler was a writer.
Maybe an amateur one, but a writer nonetheless.
It had taken him years to choose a genre to write about. First he thought about fantasy, trying to get inspiration from his D&D club called Hellfire. While he enjoyed it, it wasn’t thrilling enough for him due to lack of realism. Then he tried romance, and… well that didn’t go well, his own pent up feelings messing with his writing always ending in a tragedy instead of a beautiful romantic scene.
It wasn’t until that one day, where he was leaning against the low brick of his rooftop that he found it. Inspiration.
Every Thursday he’d climb up the fire escape of his apartment building, all the way to the roof. He’d sit against the small structure that led to the interior stairs of the building and look at the city. He’d breathe in the polluted air and sigh, the cool breeze messing up his already tousled hair.
It was his ritual, notebook splayed open on his thigh and pen between his teeth. Near the end of the week he’d take a moment to just relax; he’d leave inside his apartment Holly’s high-pitched voice and his mother’s calls with his now ex-husband threatening him to take him to family court if he didn’t give her child support. As the sun began to set it was just him, his notebook, his pen and the loud, shiny city.
After fifteen minutes of landscaping, Mike felt restless. He threw his head back onto the brick, whining at the small thump. Pen tight in his grip. He looked down to his notebook, the paper blank.
Writer’s block was a bitch.
Mike rushed to his feet, pen still in hand. He paced around, forcing himself to think of a good story. At least one good idea. Eventually he found himself sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling in the air. Head hanging low, shy between his shoulders.
“Come on.” The thought made it pass his lips. He closed his eyes, trying to summon a memory that could inspire him into writing something. Turns out, his life was just too uneventful. He’d wake up, go to class, meet his friends, go back home and do some homework.
He slammed his palms against the hard cement of the building.
Maybe he could try romance again, people liked slow burns right? Because if he could write down his own cursed love story, maybe he’d turn into a millionaire. Jane used to read a lot of friends-to-lovers romance books, maybe Mike could take that trope and completely ruin it. ‘Friends to lovers-that-could-never-be’.
Aside from being a writer, Michael James Wheeler was an idiot in love with his best friend, who happened to be a boy. He’d come to terms with it, liking boys the way he was expected to like girls. What he hadn’t been able to completely come to terms with was falling in love with his best friend, Will.
Because of course it wasn’t enough to be gay, he had to like his childhood best friend. In case his life wasn’t as shitty as it could be, life just had to throw him another curveball.
A faint swoosh tickled his ear. He turned, and as he shifted in his place his hand gripping onto the slick brick slipped. He gasped as the world was quite literally pulled from beneath him, heart sinking as his arms flailed to grasp at air.
Eyes closed and ready to bid the world goodbye Mike felt a strong pair of hands catching him mid-fall. A tight grip on his wrist kept him dangling in the air, he dared to look down, eyes widening at the sudden realization.
“Woah— Careful” an oddly familiar voice made him snap his head, looking to his rescuer. A big set of fake white eyes stared at him in shock and worry. Mike let out a breathy whimper, the city still beating around and now, beneath him. “Here, let me—”
The stranger in costume helped him up with an unprecedented strength that made Mike’s face burn. As his feet touched the ground again, Mike stumbled forward falling into the guy who had just saved his life. The stranger let out an oof, as the other boy rested his weight against him, a hand flew to his waist for support as he himself stumbled a few steps back.
“Are you okay?” Mike could feel his knees shaking, his heartbeat still racing after the sudden rush of adrenaline. His pulse spiked even more as the warmth hand in his waist squeezed an answer out of him.
“I—I’m fine!” He stammered, cheeks flaming. He gripped the stranger’s shoulders before pulling apart, careful not to step too close to the edge of the building. The grip on his waist prevailed, firm but gentle.
“Maybe you should consider not sitting so close to the edge?” The voice said, Mike could see the outline of lips moving beneath a mask. He quickly raised his eyes to the expressive ones, feeling lightheaded. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“You’re…” Mike tried to catch his breath, chest heaving and eyebrows twitching in disbelief “You’re Spider-Man.”
“Uh… yes.” He could see the outline of a coy smile beneath the fabric of his mask.
Of course Mike knew who the masked stranger was, he had been all over the news for months now. Bank robbery? Spider-Man saves the day. Attempted murder? Spider-Man’s your guy. Cat stuck in a tree? You get the idea.
Holly idolized the guy, she had posters all over her room and would constantly annoy Mike with her fun facts. He was a rising public figure, people loved and hated him, a whole news channel had a full on daily section of Spider-Man hate. And there he was, in tights and mask standing on his rooftop, saving his life.
He felt the grip around him loosen, finally stepping back as the superhero cleared his throat.
“Well, now you get to see another day. Please don’t sit so close to the edge, you could actually fall.”
“I know.” It was merely a mumble, he gulped loudly. “I’ll try.”
He could feel the hero's smile under his mask, and for a brief moment he wished he could see it. He tried to shake off the thought, flushing under the image of Will’s own smile flashing before his eyes. Yep, that’s the one he actually wanted to see, the one he dreamed about late at night.
“Maybe I should pass by to make sure. It is my job to keep everyone safe.” Spider-Man took another step back, like he was ready to take off. “I just try my best to be a good neighbor, you know? Saving lives, kissing babies. Not like weird kissing babies, just like the president does—”
“You’re… Wait.” Mike stopped, closing his eyes. “Wait, wait.” He repeated.
“You’re a superhero.” Mike went back to his thoughts. A superhero was standing on his rooftop. He had been looking for something different, something unique, a good idea. The good idea was standing right before him, he had been plastered on his sister’s walls. “This is perfect.”
“Aw, no one’s called me perfect before. Thank you.”
“No, no. I mean, I’ve been trying to write for decades.”
“That seems kind of dramatic.”
“But I didn’t know what to write.”
Mike smiled widely, because it really was fucking perfect. He rushed past the superhero, reaching for his notebook and flipping through the pages until he found one in blank.
“Did you fight someone today? Could you describe it to me?” Mike’s eyes sparkled, ready to jot down anything the superhero would tell him. He then realized his pen had disappeared from his hand, probably now laying on the street.
For once Spider-Man seemed speechless, tripping over his own tongue. “I think I could write about superheroes. Everyone loves them, right?” Mike thought out loud with a chuckle. Before he could write down anything the notebook clapped loudly as he shut it close. “I’ll take you up on your offer. You should definitely come by every Thursday. Help me write.”
“O-oh… I wasn’t being serious.” Spider-Man stuttered “I was just uh– teasing.” He followed Mike's frame as he headed to the fire escape. Mike struggled to place his feet on the first step since there was a small gap between the end of the stairs and the roof. “I actually got uh… stuff and I’m sure you’ve got stuff too—”
“Thursday. Seven o’clock, sharp.” Mike said pointing this finger directly at Spider-Man who was left standing near the edge of the building. “Goodnight, Spider-Man” he said with a toothy grin before climbing back downstairs.
“I— Goodnight, Mike.” Spider--Man mumbled to himself, too dumbfounded by the sudden weekly appointment. It didn’t matter if he said the boy’s name out loud, Mike was already gone. Under the suit, he could still feel Mike’s warmth against his own tingling skin. “You almost killed him, stupid.” He mumbled to himself, closing his eyes and sighing.
A few days passed by and Mike had told no one about his encounter with the superhero that had been in everyone’s mouth (and his near death experience). He waited patiently for the next Thursday to arrive, getting jittery as the day came closer.
“You’re awfully excited.” Max had said on Wednesday slumping over the lunch table.
“You’re awfully nosy.” He barked back. Mike didn’t want anyone getting on his business, because he knew how much the party would tease him for being all buddy-buddy with a superhero all of a sudden.
Mike told himself it would be a strictly professional set of meetings, he’d ask the superhero for details and descriptions so he could add them to a story. It wouldn’t even last long, as soon as he had all of the information he needed he’d let the superhero go on with his life and heroic duties.
And they kept it professional at first. Spider-Man did indeed show up the next Thursday and the Thursday after that one too. Until it became something weekly, and seemingly permanent.
As Mike found himself waiting every Thursday, sitting crossed-legged on the rooftop’s floor and bouncing his fingers on the cover of his notebook, he realized that maybe he’d overestimated himself.
Well, sue him for being excited. A superhero had literally swept him off his feet, or saved him from his feet dangling in the air. He had asked him if he was okay in a voice that made every last hair on his nape stand deliberately. Had he been thinking about the stranger’s hand on his waist? No. Maybe, a little bit.
To add even more layers to it, he had been meeting with him every single Thursday from there on out. Mike would get some notes but eventually get lost in Spider-Man’s descriptions and hand gestures.
Not to mention the constant teasing. When it began it was subtle, almost just kindness.
“You look good today.”
“Your hair looks nice.”
“You have nice handwriting.”
But then it became bolder, flattery making Mike fluster and stutter every single time.
“You look cute when you’re cold”
“You ever thought about giving your superhero a boyfriend? You should name him Mike, I love that name.”
“Is your protagonist based on me? So you’d describe me as handsome?”
Did that mean he was falling in love with him? Absolutely not. Every time Mike thought of the possibility of it, his mind wandered back to Will. He’d think of his laugh, the way his nose scrunched when he was frustrated or the way his tongue peeked out when he was sketching in secrecy or— Okay, you get the point.
Then one Thursday things took a turn.
“Come on, Mike!” Dustin had been whining the whole way to Mike’s apartment. “We never get invited to parties.”
“It’s a school night, Dustin. I’m not going.” The party walked back home after a long day of classes they struggled to pay attention to. Senior year hadn’t been entirely fun since it began, a few months in and they all couldn’t wait to get into college. “You can go, if you want.”
“‘It’s a school night’” Max mocked “You big hypocrite. You always come into school with eyebags on Friday’s. What have you been up to, Wheeler?”
Mike stiffened, he gripped tighter on the backpack strap as.
“Nothing.” He simply stated. He looked at the ground as he avoided stepping on garbage, kicking small rocks every now and then. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Well, if we can’t go to the party, we’ll just stay with you tonight.” Lucas chimed in, throwing his arm over Mike’s shoulders making him slump.
“What? No! You can’t do that.” Mike stopped walking, Lucas’ arm slipping from his shoulders. “You can’t just invite yourselves over.” He complained, a clear frown in his face.
“Then invite us.” Jane said, shrugging her shoulders as the answer seemed obvious. Mike opened his mouth before closing it. He couldn’t find the right words to tell his friends he did not want them in his house because he had a date— meeting with Queen’s one and only Spider-Man. Letting them stay would be like profanating his sanctuary.
“I—”
“Guys, leave Mike alone.” Will stepped in. He had been quiet for most of the discussion, silently walking behind the rest of them. Now he made his way to the front of the group, hands rubbing at the sides of his pants. “If he doesn’t want to go to the party, then he can stay home.”
“Are you coming to the party?” Dustin asked Will, who smiled almost huffing.
“Of course not.” He replied, amused at the thought of going to a party. It wasn’t really his scene. “Jonathan’s in the city, we’re going out for dinner. So, technically Jane can't go either.”
“Oh, I forgot…” Jane mumbled, slightly annoyed. “You think I can get out of it? I really want to go to the party.”
“You could ask mom.” Will said, tilting his head to the side, he turned around and continued walking. As the rest of the party continued talking, Mike took long strides to reach for Will.
“Thanks.” Mike said, bumping his elbow against Will’s who looked at him with slightly open eyes.
“For what?”
“Just… I don’t know. Defending my privacy?” Mike joked, making Will chuckle. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he heard the melodic sound of Will’s soft laugh.
“I’m just trying to be a good—” Will tripped over his words, and almost over his own feet. His arm grasped onto something, that something resulting in Mike's arm.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m being a good friend. That’s all, sorry.” Will quickly replied, he cleared his throat. He released Mike’s arm and rubbed his own, slightly embarrassed.
Mike watched as Will continued walking. The boy had been a tad skittish lately, tripping over his words, apologizing a little more than usual. He’d been acting like Will to the power of 10. Was Mike worried? Yes, but he figured meddling into Will’s business could lead him to messing things up. Because Mike was good at that.
Instead, once they reached his apartment he waved goodbye to the rest of the party. As the rest wandered off the street Will stayed back for a moment.
“Mike.” Will called in that unique way he had of saying Mike’s name. The way that made him sigh internally like a high school girl (although he was a high school boy). “How’s your writer’s block going?”
“It’s gone.” Mike smiled, Will nodded his head as a smile stretched on his face.
“So you found inspiration?” Will asked, clearly interested in his friend’s hobby. Well, aspiration. “What’ve you been working on?”
“No spoilers.” Mike said, his lips twisting in a frown. Will clicked his tongue. “Guess you’ll just have to buy my book once it becomes a best-seller to find out.”
Will cackled.
“Okay, I’ll be the first at the signing line then.” Will joked back. Oh, Mike was so stupidly in love with the boy. He couldn’t help but notice the way his cheeks seemed to flush in the cool evening, or the way his lips curled up in such a gentle smile. Or the way the mole over his lip teased him in such a seductive way that Mike had to look away before he gave himself away. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Mike”
“‘Night, Will.”
Mike stood on the steps of the apartment building as he saw Will sprint to catch up with the rest of the party. He leaned on the railing that gave way, almost making him fall. He cursed under his breath, looking around praying no one had seen him.
The next couple of minutes were a rush. He kissed his mom hello and ignored Holly as she tried to show him one of her drawings. The door to his room slammed behind him, he changed his shirt stumbling in the darkness of its interior before throwing on a loose and more comfortable t-shirt. Giddy, he took his notebook from his desk and a pen, a replacement for the one he had lost that day when he almost fell to his death.
Long fingers unlocked the window, and pushed it open. His lanky body made it outside, goosebumps running through his body. He climbed the fire escape, by the time he reached the roof he realized he was seriously out of shape as he tried to catch his breath.
He took the last big step to get to the top, breathing heavily as he sat on the cold concrete. As it usually did, the sun was starting to set. He sighed loudly, the sound of his own breath barely overpowering the soft thud behind him.
“Cardio’s not your thing, huh?” Mike couldn’t help but smile as he turned around to see Spider-Man hitting his usual pose, squatting on the ground, hands in the middle like a kitten. A very annoying kitten.
“Shut up.” Mike said in a breath. He heard Spider-man’s chuckle behind him. He scooched further into the roof, pen in hand.
“I could give you my workout routine.” The hero offered “It’ll help you with your endurance.” He added a tinge of flirtiness to his voice that made Mike’s insides recoil in a welcoming way.
“You know, for when you rush up the fire escape.”
“Right.” Mike replied. They sat in silence for a second, the superhero settling down next to the lankier frame. He watched as Mike scribbled down things in his notebook. Mike caught a glimpse of white eyes peeking at his notebook, and he relaxed his grip on his pen. “You’re nosy.”
“I’m not.” Spider-Man responded, he leaned slightly backwards, his palms stretched against the concrete. “I’m just bored.”
“Do you have any hobbies?” Mike dared ask. They didn’t really talk about him, secret identity and all. By now Mike had told him a lot of things, about Holly and Nancy, he told him about the party. He also talked about Will but he tried not to talk too much about him, still a little scared to say aloud all of his thoughts regarding the boy.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He said with a teasing chuckle. Mike set the notebook aside, eyes fixed on the masked guy.
“I would.”
“Oh,” The shorter guy muttered, he leaned forward now as he curled into himself seemingly nervous. “Uh... Yeah, I do.”
“Yeah?” The question was soft in the cool evening breeze. The sun had started disappearing behind multiple skyscrapers, and Spider-Man could see the last ray of sun illuminating Mike’s sharp features.
“Well,” He turned his head to the side, taking a deep breath as he thought of an answer “I have friends so, I like spending time with them.”
“You have friends?” Mike asked with fake sarcasm “Then why aren’t you with your friends right now?” He asked, leaning slightly closer trying to be the one who teased the spider for a change.
“Don’t get jealous, Mikey” Spider-Man said with an infantilized voice, mocking Mike’s attempt to get him flustered. “I like spending time with you.”
“Why do you keep—” Mike stopped himself, just groaning to his insides and rolling his eyes. He opened his notebook again and mumbled something beneath his breath. “You’re insufferable”
Spider-Man hummed. “You hungry?” He stood up, walking up to the edge of the building.
“Wha—” As Mike finished his question, he saw the superhero swinging away getting lost between tall buildings. He returned his attention to his notebook, focusing on the last two words he had written.
The end.
He twisted his lips as he let himself get lost in his thoughts. Maybe he made the other guy uncomfortable, asking about his personal life. He stretched his legs and laid down on the cold hard ground. The notebook laid open and upside down against his chest.
Now that he had finished his story (at least the first version), he had no reason to keep the spider visiting him every Thursday. But if the other man showed up that wasn’t Mike’s fault, right? And if the other man didn’t know Mike had finished his story, it wouldn’t hurt him, right?
A sudden swoosh made his lashes flutter over closed eyes. His nostrils flared as the sweet smell of dessert flooded the place.
“Oh no, Sleeping Beauty has passed out.” The voice was falsely apologetic, dramatic in his phrasing. “I guess I’ll have to eat these giant donuts all by myself.”
Mike opened his eyes. He saw the spider standing over him, his mask slightly lifted up as he held a donut between his teeth covering the half of his face that was exposed. Mike looked at the other donut that was handed out to him.
“No way.” Mike said in awe, he groaned as he sat up, reaching for the pastry. He closed his eyes as he took the first most wonderful bite. He moaned in delight. “God, I love these.”
“Fmurmphd” the hero muffled around the glazed donut, Mike felt him sitting next to him once again. He opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow at him. Spider-Man took the donut, freeing his lips to be able to talk. “Figured.”
Mike smiled as he chewed, eyes scanning over the stranger. He let himself wander down to his lower exposed face. Everytime he heard the other guy laugh or smile he wondered what it’d look like. But he wasn’t expecting that.
His jaw stopped moving, cheeks fat with an un-swallowed piece of donut. His breath hitched as he stared at Spider-Man’s lips.
And that. fucking. mole.
“Mike? Are you choking?” Spider-Man asked, mouth on full display and as bunny teeth peeked under his upper lip Mike actually started choking. He coughed, spitting out the half-chewed donut. Spider-Man pulled down his mask and patted Mike on the back and it burned him. “Oh shit. Are you okay?”
Mike shook his head, breathing heavily as he coughed out his own soul and sanity. Because it wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t. Anyone could have upper lip moles, right? And anyone could have bunny teeth. It wasn’t just— No, not him.
Mike gasped for air, a tight grip on his arm and his body did the rest of the job for him. As the hand fit perfectly on the empty spot WIll had left earlier that day, Mike’s skin tingled. The same size, the same pressure.
Oh God.
“I think I’m dying.” Mike said dramatically and it wasn’t because he almost choked. He heard a chuckle that didn’t belong to Spider-Man but to Will, still when he turned he only saw that mask and Will was nowhere to be seen.
“You’ll live.” Spider-Man said, “It’s getting late, I should probably go on patrol so… I’ll see you next Thursday?” He squeezed Mike’s arm and Mike jolted at the feeling.
Oh God, oh God.
Mike emitted a soft high sound, not really understanding himself where it came from.
“Okay, you’re scaring me.” The spider grabbed a hold of Mike’s face, not teasing as his usual demeanor but actually concerned. And Mike damned himself when he felt himself melting against the touch under the crazy thought of Will being the one holding his face so gently.
All he could do was stare into those big empty, yet very expressive eyes.
“Is there something in my face?” Spider-Man asked with a nervous chuckle, actually worried Mike could be having a stroke.
Oh nothing, just the most attractive mole I have ever seen in my life.
And those full lips I have memorized by now.
And those cute bunny teeth.
OH GOD.
Mike hummed, not even sure if he did it out loud.
“Okay… Are you sure I can leave?” The spider asked, cocking an eyebrow and tilting his head. All Mike could hear and see was Will tilting his head in concern. “You want me to take you to your room?”
Mike felt his face burn like a thousand forest fires. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he say anything?
Spider-Man pulled Mike to his feet. “Easy, come on.” With incredible ease, he wrapped an arm around Mike’s waist and pulled him close to keep him steady.
Mike could have sworn his soul left his body and he was just admitted into heaven as he felt the strong bicep flex through spandex and his cotton shirt.
Carefully, the spider managed to climb down the side of the building supporting himself with the fire escape railing.
“This you, yeah?” He asked stopping on Mike’s window.
“How did you know?” Finally Mike was able to say something, and of course it was a question. Will knew which his window was, but as he was half sitting on the hero’s strong thigh and a similarly strong arm wrapped around him he couldn’t begin to care about how his question could put the other guy on the spot.
“I once saw you climb out of it.” The answer was simple and not very satisfying to Mike’s internal turmoil. With sticky fingers Spider-Man pushed open the window, Mike stumbled backwards into his room, eyes fixed on the stronger body that remained outside of the building.
He wanted to pull him by the wrist and ask him to stay. But even if that was Will, it would be wrong. Oh, how he wanted to curl up into his bed and die.
“Try to get some rest, okay?” His voice was soft, a whisper in the nighttime as the apartment buzzed with silence. Mike’s heart thumping against his four walls. “See you around, Mike.”
Mike’s chest fluttered and butterflies roared in his stomach, the sweet-like way of Will’s voice saying his name making his breath hitch. He leaned his frame out the window as he saw the spider swing away, disappearing into the night.
“Will.” He mumbled, letting himself entertain the idea of the boy who he’d been spending every Thursday with was none other than his best friend.
Every joke, every lingering touch, every pet name.
Every tease, every flirty comment and every shared story.
He had been talking to Will. Will had been flirting with him. Will had saved him twice already (if you count the donut incident). His face burned in embarrassment.
He fell onto his mattress like a corpse, heavy and pretty much dead. A loud muffled groan left his longs, absorbed by the pillow.
“I can hear you from my room! Shut up!” He heard Holly’s voice and a thumping on his wall that came directly from his sister’s room.
If Will was Spider-Man, then Mike would die. And since Will is Spider-Man, Mike was pretty much dead.
He needed to be, because there was no way he could make it to the next Thursday without breaking at the sight of Will.
Mike pulled the covers over his head, losing himself in the darkness of his room, not even caring about his feet being exposed to the cold under the thin fabric of his socks.
See you around, Mike. The gentle voice of Will flooded his brain, a bright smile and that stupid and attractive mole mocking him as always.
Oh God.