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Summary
Spiderman, whoever he is, has clawed his way into Frank's life, into his heart, and made a home in his red and gory insides. He blinks away tears, stares at the ceiling for a few long moments before his eyes land on Spiderman again, two opposite poles, magnetized to each other. His hand reaches out, ghosts the perimeter of his features, palm slightly larger than the kid's face, before it trembles and he snatches it back, stumbling into the seat behind him.
When he wakes, Spiderman, Peter, laughs at Frank, lovely and melodious and free of accusation. Franks hangs on his every word.
Turns out tender is a word you can relearn.