Work Text:
Manhattan, 2026.
Home, Will thinks. I’ve just got to get home.
Web-slinging is usually much easier without a giant gash wound into his side, but Will tries his best, favoring his right arm while swinging between buildings to avoid further opening the wound on his left side.
Light and dark begin to blur together, blackness clouding the edges of Will’s vision with each swing due to the blood loss. He needs to get home and he needs to do it fast.
Fighting a giant killer lizard man in NYC was the last thing he’d expected for today’s agenda, and while yes, he did successfully win the battle against the scaly creature, he didn’t exactly leave unscathed.
He can still feel the long, sharp claw dragging across his skin, leaving behind a jagged tear below his rib cage. His suit grows heavier and more uncomfortable with every movement as the blood soaks through and thickens the fabric.
All he wants to do is close his eyes, find a cozy spot on a random roof top and take a few moments to rest. But he knows that’s not the smart thing to do. He needs to get home, to Mike; he’s always been fond of Spider-Man, even though he doesn’t know his true identity, he has no doubt in his mind that he’s his best shot at receiving help.
Their apartment building finally comes into view, relief seeping through Will’s veins as he, less than gracefully, lands on the fire escape outside of their living room window. The sound of his body crashing against the metal echoes throughout the alley. If Mike is home, he’ll for sure have heard the loud disruption.
Extending his legs out in front of him, Will sits with his back against the brick of the building, hissing at the pain in his side as he carefully adjusts his position. He closes his eyes for what feels like only seconds before he hears the window beside him slide open.
Will squints as he opens his eyes, sluggishly turning his gaze to see Mike peeking his head through the window. The tablet in his hand pings loudly, and Will recognizes the sound of the Spidey-Tracker app Dustin had invented ringing through the speaker. If this were any other scenario, he’d laugh at the idea of Mike having the app downloaded. Mike quickly tosses the device behind him onto the sofa before stepping through the window and crouching down beside Will.
“Oh my God,” Mike gasps, ghosting his hands over Will’s shoulders hesitantly, as if asking for permission to make sure he’s okay.
Will gives a silent nod of assurance, mindful not to speak. He knows the minute Mike hears the voice behind the mask, his cover will be blown without a second thought.
Mike’s hands drop to Will’s shoulders, squeezing them before trailing down his arms and eventually, gently lifting Will’s left arm to view the damage behind the blood.
The material of his red and blue suit is torn, giving a decently clear visual of the harm done to Will’s skin. Mike’s hands graze around the wound with a feather-light touch, and Will’s breath hitches. Mike immediately stills, his eyes going wide as he stares directly into Will’s, an expression on his face that Will can’t quite decipher.
Will’s eyes aren’t visible through the lenses of his mask, but he’s making direct eye contact. Mike’s brows furrow before he shakes his head, almost as if pulling himself out of a thought and back to reality.
“I can help you,” Mike assures, his voice now sounding softer and more careful than it had before. “It looks like it might just be a surface wound, but there’s a lot of blood. Do you want to come inside?”
A ringing noise erupts in Will’s ears, vision still clouding when he slowly nods his head.
“I’m gonna put my arms under your shoulders to help lift you up, okay?” Mike says softly.
Will nods again, and Mike moves to his knees, placing his hands below Will’s under-arms and stepping up one foot at a time, carefully hoisting Will up with him.
“Do you think you’re able to crouch through the window?” Mike asks, gesturing to the open space with his head. “I don’t think we can both fit at the same time.”
Will answers by stepping forward and bending down to squeeze his way inside, but Mike stops him before he can go through.
“Wait,” Mike says, grasping Will’s wrist. “I’ll go first so I can help you through.”
He crawls through the window with ease and stands on the other side, holding his hands out expectantly for Will to take. Will reaches through and allows Mike to grip the underside of his forearms, curling his fingers around Mike’s as well.
He tries to ignore the pain as he lifts one leg over the windowsill, following through with the other. He feels the firm pressure of Mike’s hands on his arms as he helps to guide him into the living room.
When both feet plant on the carpet, Will leans back against the wall, once again sinking down to the ground while grasping his side, feeling too weak to hold himself up for much longer.
This isn’t the first time he’s gotten injured during a fight, and he knows that within the hour he’ll basically be as good as new (thank you, Spidey-DNA), but the time between now and then is never easy. He’s just relieved he made it to Mike in time before he potentially fainted mid-swing.
Mike sinks down with Will to check and make sure he’s okay, then lets go of his arms and bee-lines straight for the kitchen and quickly returns with a hefty supply of wadded up paper towels.
“Here, keep pressure on it,” Mike says, pressing the paper towel against Will’s side. He reaches for Will’s right wrist and laces their fingers together, guiding their conjoined hands to the wound. “I’m gonna go get the first aid kit. I’ll be right back.”
He slides his hand away and Will watches him hurry to the bathroom. Less than a few moments later, he returns holding the first aid kit, as well as a wet hand towel.
“Lift your hand,” he coos as he lowers himself to sit beside Will. He places the first aid kit on the ground, opening it and reaching for the cleaning spray.
He grabs the spray, and takes a moment to investigate the damaged area.
“Um, is it okay if I-” he starts, placing his fingers below the ripped fabric. “I kind of need to move it out of the way, but I don’t know how to do that without ripping it more.”
Will tilts his head as if to ask does it really matter? It’s already ruined.
“Right, okay.” Mike laughs nervously. “I’m just gonna…”
He carefully pries the rip further apart. The tear exposes more skin, giving Mike a greater surface area to work with as he pushes the fabric to the side. He reaches for the wet cloth and begins to wipe at the blood.
“Definitely just a flesh wound,” Mike assures. “You might need stitches if I can’t get the bleeding to stop, but it already looks like it’s slowed down quite a bit.”
Dabbing away at the blood until he seems thoroughly satisfied, Mike sets down the soiled cloth and picks up the anti-bacterial cleaning spray.
“This is going to sting,” Mike says with an empathetic look on his face. He holds it up to the wound and quickly sprays over the gash until it’s coated in the liquid. Will winces, his body jolting at the sting.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Mike whispers.
Will can’t help but silently swoon over how gentle Mike is being with him. He knew coming here was the best idea. He’s only grateful that he’s got a mask on to cover the heart-eyes that are definitely prominent beneath the fabric.
Mike puts the cap back on to the spray and drops it into the first aid kit. Hesitantly, he leans his head down until he’s eye-level with the wound. He parts his lips and gently blows, cool air pouring over to dull the sting.
Realizing that may not have been the most normal thing to do, Mike quickly straightens his posture, sitting up and scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks redden.
“Sorry,” he begins to ramble. “That was probably weird, I just know how bad that stuff can sting on a cut and you have like, a big cut. I can barely even handle spraying it onto a paper cut without feeling uncomfortable, so I thought maybe that would help soothe it a bit. I just, yeah. Sorry.”
Holding back a giggle, Will shrugs his shoulders, a way of telling Mike it’s fine. You helped.
“Um,” Mike starts, grabbing the gauze from the first aid kit. “I need to bandage you, now. It might be easier if we sit on the couch. Do you think you can get up?” He stands up and holds a hand out for Will, who grasps it and allows himself to be pulled upward and led to the couch.
Sitting next to him, Mike awkwardly fumbles with the bandage, unraveling it and holding it up to Will before pulling back.
“I don’t really think I can do this while your suit is still on,” he says, looking everywhere besides Will’s face. “If you want to take it off, I can grab a hoodie from my room for you to wear after. I just don’t know how else to properly wrap it without doing so.”
Will hesitates. His mask is obviously detachable from the rest of his suit—would it be weird to sit here with his mask on while Mike bandages his abdomen? He doesn’t really seem to have any other options, though. So…
He moves to reach behind his back for the hidden zippers and fasteners of his suit, but stops when a jolt of pain radiates throughout the left side of his body.
“Here,” Mike says, placing his hands on Will again to turn him slightly so his back is to Mike. “Let me.”
With gentle hands, Mike searches for the clasps, undoing all of them over Will’s back before finding the inner zipper and sliding it down. Will fights the urge to shiver at the touch, acutely aware of Mike’s body heat radiating off of him.
When Mike retracts his hands, Will takes that as his cue to slide the sleeves off of his arms and pull the upper part of his suit down to his waist, exposing his bare skin to the cool air of the apartment.
With his mask still on, he looks back to Mike to find him already staring, mouth parted and cheeks flushed. Why are his cheeks flushed?
“Okay.” Mike lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. “If you can lift your arms a little…”
Will does as he’s asked, and Mike unrolls the gauze and ever so carefully begins to wrap it around Will’s waist, his finger tips occasionally grazing Will’s skin, leaving behind a warmth that Will could get used to.
Mike leans forward to reach around Will’s back, continuing the motion until the gauze runs out. His breath releases in gentle puffs against Will’s neck before he’s leaning back into his original position again, connecting the end of the bandage with where it had started.
“Does that feel okay?” Mike asks, patting the edges to make sure it’s secure.
Will grabs Mike’s hand and squeezes once before letting go, thanking him for being so caring and helpful.
Mike clears his throat and stands, heading to the kitchen in quick strides. When he returns, he’s holding a glass of orange juice with a yellow bendy straw, setting it down on the coffee table in front of Will.
“For the blood loss,” he smiles. “It doesn’t look like any is seeping through, so that’s good. I know you probably heal much quicker than everyone else.”
They sit together in comfortable silence for a bit, nothing but the sounds of their shared breathing filling the room. Will eventually reaches for the juice, turning his head away as he slips the straw beneath his mask and drinks half of the glass in one gulp. When he sets the cup back down, Mike stands to his feet.
“I’ll go grab you a hoodie,” he says, making his way down the hall and returning just as quickly with a black sweatshirt in his grasp.
He hands it to Will and averts his eyes as Will slowly but surely throws it on over his body.
“You should rest,” Mike says, staring down at Will. “I can help you to your room if you want, unless you want to stay here. That’s fine, too.”
Will tenses. The ringing in his ears suddenly stops. He doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath in an attempt to remain as still as possible until his lungs start to burn.
I can help you to your room.
Suddenly, it’s like an internal dam bursts. Did Mike figure it out? Would he be in danger now? If he did figure it out, no one can ever know. Spider-Man has enemies; enemies who would utilize Mike against him if they ever found out how much he means to him. He has to protect Mike.
His breathing goes from still to rapid as he grips the fabric over his knees.
“Hey,” Mike says, voice sounding shaky as if realizing his slip up. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, I promise.” He runs his hand up and down Will’s back to comfort him, continuing the motion until Will’s breathing slows to normal.
“Will,” Mike says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. It’s just me, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Will’s eyes go wide behind the mask.
“How-” he starts. This is it. There’s no going back now. “How did you figure it out?”
“You’re gonna think I’m weird,” Mike mumbles.
“I already think you’re weird,” Will attempts to tease, but there’s still a nervous edge to his voice.
Mike lets out a subtle laugh. “When we were out on the fire escape, I… I recognized your breathing. It kind of hit me all at once, but I didn’t want to freak you out by telling you I figured it out.” Mike releases a breath, looking down at the ground. “I’m just sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me with this.”
Will’s face softens, he reaches forward and places a comforting hand into Mike’s own.
“No, Mike, of course I trust you,” Will assures. “I trust you more than anyone in the world. It’s just… Spider-Man has enemies, a lot of them. If any of them ever found out you knew who I was, found out how much you mean to me, it would put you at risk. I couldn’t live with myself if anything ever happened to you, Mike. Especially if it was because of me.”
Will looks down at his lap, pulling his hand back from Mike’s and nervously fiddling with his fingers. He feels a gentle palm caressing his cheek and glances up. Mike is staring at him with a warm fondness in his eyes. Will imagines his own face looks the same way whenever he looks at Mike.
“Hey,” Mike coos. “I understand, it’s okay. Nothing’s going to happen to me, Will. I’m not going to tell anyone, not ever. If anything, I’m just worried about you. You showed up on the fire escape hurt.” His thumb begins to brush back and forth against Will’s cheek bone. “I mean, enemies? How can someone as good as you have enemies? That makes no logical sense. Everyone should love you.”
“I’ve put a lot of people in jail, Mike,” Will laughs. “There’s always going to be bad guys who want to ruin my life. And you’re a big part of my life.” He brings a hand up to Mike’s wrist, softly grazing it with his fingertips before lowering it back to his side. “I mean it when I say you mean so much to me.”
“You mean so much to me, too. More than you know,” Mike says, a slight strain to his voice. “I hate knowing you got hurt and that I wasn’t there to help you.”
“You did help me, Mike,” Will assures. “I knew as soon as the fight was over that if I made it home to you, you’d be here to care for me, no questions asked.”
“Always,” Mike murmurs. “I always want to take care of you.”
Mike’s thumb decreases its movements, his pupils grow wide as an idea seems to strike into his head. He slowly brings both hands to the hem of Will’s mask, giving him time to object if he wants to, before grabbing the edge of the material.
“Can I?” Mike whispers, looking down to where Will’s mouth is, and oh.
Oh my God.
“Yes,” Will breathes out.
Mike wastes no time as he begins to roll up the bottom of the mask, slowly making his way up Will’s face and stopping once it reaches just below his nose, leaving Will’s mouth exposed.
Will gasps the moment Mike pulls his hands away. He darts his tongue out, quickly dragging it across his bottom lip to wet it. He thought he’d feel more nervous, more anxious over the anticipation, but instead, he just feels eager. Like he’s waited his entire life for this moment, and now, it’s finally happening.
As Mike begins to lean in, Will meets him halfway. They both stop just before their mouths join, breathing in each other's air, before finally connecting their lips in a chaste kiss.
It’s everything Will had wanted for his first kiss, everything and more. He’d always hoped it would be with Mike, but never actually expected his dream to turn into a reality. Both are tentative at first, Will waiting to see if Mike wants to take the lead.
And he does.
Mike’s lips begin to move in a steady rhythm, and Will follows his pace, the delicate movements becoming more and more passionate as time progresses.
Kissing Mike feels like truly being alive for the first time. Will has literally swung over the streets of New York City, jumping from building to building as he felt the wind in his hair. He’s fought (and won) against monsters, criminals, and even an alien, once. None of it compares to the rush of his best friend's lips pressing against his own.
Feeling bold and so full of desire, Will sticks his tongue out, dragging it against the seam of Mike’s lips, asking for permission. Mike’s mouth parts, granting Will the access he’s so desperately longed for, when suddenly they hear the handle of the front door jiggling.
With an abrupt stop, the two pull away from each other, both breathing frantically due to the kissing and the idea of almost being caught. How would it look for someone to walk in on Mike kissing Spider-Man, of all people?
The door clicks. Mike quickly grabs the rolled up part of Will’s mask and slides it down, once again covering his face and shielding his identity.
When the door creeks open, Dustin walks backwards into the apartment, holding a bag from the local comic book shop in one hand and a takeout container in the other. Will had forgotten the three were supposed to have a movie night.
“Honey, I’m home-” Dustin stops, the words are stolen right from his throat as he turns around, eyes drawing right to Will, to Spider-Man, sitting on the living room couch.
“Hey Dustin,” Mike says, his voice sounding higher pitched than usual. “This is, uh. My friend! Spider-Man!”
Dustin’s jaw is to the floor and he’s looking back and forth between Mike and Will, drawing a hand up to point at the two.
“What is Spider-Man doing on your couch?” he asks.
“Uh, he was hurt,” Mike says, looking at Will before turning back to Dustin. There wasn’t much Will could do to help at the moment. “I heard him land on the fire escape. He was bleeding! I had to help him, I couldn’t just leave him out there.”
“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaims. The most joyous laugh Will has ever heard in his life makes its way out of the boy as he runs to the living room, not even pretending to act subtle. “No way! You know Spider-Man?” He turns to look at Will, eyes full of excitement. “Are you okay, now?”
Will gives Dustin a thumbs up, which was a mistake, because it immediately leads to Dustin spitting out a rapid-fire amount of questions.
“How did you get hurt? Do you make your own web fluid? Have you heard of my app Spidey-Tracker? I invented it myself. Mike uses it, too. Even though he won’t admit it. How long did it take you to learn how to swing from building to building? Were you afraid the first time you tried it? And how do you know Mike? Actually that doesn’t matter, I’m just so happy the sad man has friends. Sorry, is that rude? You’ve always just seemed kind of sad to me. I don’t know why. Oh my God, I’m talking to Spider-Man. Holy shit, this is insane.”
Will tries so hard to suppress his laugh, having to quickly replace it with a low cough. He wonders if Dustin would act this excited if he knew it was just his friend sitting on the couch in front of him. He can’t tell him, of course, but the curiosity is there.
“We should probably let him rest,” Mike says. “He was hurt pretty badly when I found him. I was gonna see if he wanted to stay in my room for a bit?” He turns to look at Will with a brow arched. Will nods, standing up with ease.
Look at that, he thinks. All healed.
“Stay here, Dustin,” Mike says as he leads Will to his room. They hear a faint “holy shit” from the living room as they enter Mike’s, closing the door behind them.
“Well, that went well,” Mike laughs.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how?” Will asks.
“How what?”
“How I became Spider-Man?”
“Oh,” Mike hums. “Not today.”
Will arches a brow at him in question, but of course, Mike can’t see it.
“My only concern right now is making sure you’re safe. All other questions can wait.”
Will pulls the mask from his face, smiling while his hair is sticking up in multiple different directions.
“Cute,” Mike smiles and reaches a hand forward to ruffle Will’s hair. “Mask hair.”
“Shut up,” Will grins, swatting Mike’s hand away.
“Are you better now?” Mike asks, the teasing look no longer present in his expression.
Will lifts the bottom of the hoodie up, grabbing at the bandage to pull it aside.
“Let me,” Mike says. He steps forward and unwraps the gauze, pulling it away to reveal nothing but a faint, pink scar.
“It’ll go away,” Will says. “That actually healed a lot quicker than I thought it would.”
“Good,” Mike says. He pulls Will into a hug, burying his face into his hair. “Don’t like when you’re hurt.”
“Well, I’m lucky to have you to fix me up.”
“Will you?” Mike asks, moving his head back and lowering himself to be eye-level with Will. “Have me?”
“What do you mean?” Will asks. He’s pretty sure this is leading in the direction he thinks, but he needs to actually hear the words from Mike himself.
“Can I be yours?” he asks, hopefully. “You mean everything to me, Will. I know this probably seems sudden, but I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Since the day we first met, I knew you were special to me. I know you’re probably going to say it’s too dangerous, but I can handle it, Will. I promise. I trust you, and I hope you trust me, too. Your secret is always going to be safe with me. You’re always going to be safe with me, I’ll make sure of it.” He squeezes his arms tighter around Will, bringing him closer to his chest. “I love you so much. I’m just sorry that it took me so long to admit it. Please please please let me be yours.”
The air leaves Will’s lungs. Mike loves him. That’s a real thing he actually just said, right? Will didn’t make that up? Mike loves him and wants to be his boyfriend. He wants to be his boyfriend!!! Will started his day fighting a slimy, nasty lizard-man, and now he’s standing in his best friend's bedroom, hearing him confess his love for him while asking to be his boyfriend. This is the weirdest and best day of his life.
“Mike,” Will sighs, tears threatening to spill from his waterline. “I didn’t think this would ever happen to me.”
“What do you mean?” Mike asks, moving back slightly while keeping his arms around Will.
“I’ve loved you for years.” Will reaches up to wipe a stray tear he feels sliding down his cheek. “Spider-Man was an impossible secret to keep from you, but that was the hardest secret I’ve ever had to hold on to. It feels good to finally say it out loud. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to.”
“You can say it as much as you want.” Mike smiles. “I’ll never stop you. In fact, I encourage it.”
Will looks up at him, his smile widening with Mike’s words.
“I love you,” Will says. “I love you, I love you, I love you, so much.”
“I love you.” Mike leans down and connects their lips once more in a kiss, neither wanting to pull away and break the moment, both letting their lips linger. It’s different this time, more meaningful. Like they’d both been holding back before without even realizing it, but were now pouring all of the love they have for each other into the action.
“So?” Mike asks, drawing back only slightly, their mouths only a hair’s breadth apart. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
Will’s lips form together in a tight line, curving up at the edges. He can’t hold back the tears now, he’s never been happier.
“Yes,” Will exhales, pressing a quick peck to Mike’s lips. “Yes, I would like that very much.” He brings Mike back down into a firmer hug, resting his face on his chest and inhaling the warmth and comfort radiating off of him. They both stand there together, soaking in the embrace.
“Guys?” they hear Dustin shout from the living room. “Is everything okay?”
“Shit,” Mike says quietly before calling out to Dustin. “Yeah, all good.”
“What should I do?” Will asks.
“Um,” Mike says, looking around the room. He reaches into his closet and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants, handing them to Will. “Here, put these on.”
“Seriously?” Will asks.
“Yeah,” Mike says. “Swing out my window and come around through the front entrance. Dustin’ll think you just got home from the library or something. People probably won’t see you in the alley, but I’d put your mask back on to be safe.”
Will rolls his eyes playfully before peeling away the ruined remains of his suit. “I’m going to have to make a new suit. This is gross.”
“Yeah.” Mike laughs. “I’m just glad you’re okay now.”
“Me too.”
Will puts on the sweatpants, reaches for the web shooters that were still attached to the Spider-Man suit, then bends down to grab the discarded mask, putting it on over his face before stopping at the window, staring back at Mike.
“See you in a sec,” he says, then effortlessly jumps out the window and swings away.
He drops down to the ground of the alley with a sense of giddiness. This isn’t the first time he’s had to sneak out of his own apartment, but it is the first time he’s done so with his boyfriend’s help. Did he mention Mike is his boyfriend?
He looks around cautiously, making sure no one else is in sight before taking off the mask and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie. He walks around the side of the building and enters the lobby, taking the elevator up to the top floor. Apartment 410.
Pausing for a moment to take a breath, he reaches forward and opens the door, stepping inside the unit.
“Holy shit, Will,” Dustin shouts, shooting off of the couch. “You’re not gonna believe this.”