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1.
Miles Morales is tall. He knows that he's tall. He's almost 6'0". His dad says he could be as tall as his Uncle Aaron someday, although Miles is less sure.
But Hobie Brown? Goddamn, that man is tall.
He makes Miles feel short. Miles hasn't felt short in years. Miles was taller than his mom when he was 10. Miles Morales is not short.
But compared to Hobie Brown, most people are short.
And he's all legs too. All limbs, sprawled out in every direction. Hobie seems to want to take up as much space as he can at any time.
He's always lounging. Leaning against a wall, legs crossed. Sitting on the couch, legs crossed to take up at least an entire cushion and a half. Never taking off those huge boots, which certainly help his height. Undoubtedly he would still be considered fucking tall if he wasn't wearing those boots.
And Miles hasn't even mentioned Hobie's hair! It's amazing. Miles loves it. But it gives him at least another half foot. He's less upset about the hair than the boots. He's well aware his own 'fro gives him a couple inches. And Hobie's wicks are... for lack of a better word, sick. They suit him perfectly. They're loud and they draw attention and they take up space and they're gorgeous.
Not to say Miles thinks Hobie is gorgeous. Objectively, he's attractive. Miles can admit that much. Gorgeous might be a stretch. Gorgeous implies some kind of actual attraction. And there is a difference between attraction and someone being attractive. And none of this is actually relevant to the topic at hand.
The point is, Hobie is tall. Technically, he's only a few inches taller than Miles. But, again, his hair makes it seem much more of a difference than one might think.
Miles wonders if it would be awkward to try and kiss someone that tall. Miles has had his first kiss. It was in 8th grade, with some girl during a school dance. But they were about the same height at the time, since Miles hadn't hit his growth spurts - both natural and supernatural.
It seems weird to him. Hobie would have to stoop down and Miles would have to lean up and it would be... weird. Yep. Weird. In a bad way.
Maybe he should stop imagining kissing Hobie. Maybe that's a weird thing to imagine about your friend. Coworker. Fellow Spider-Man. Whatever.
Hobie is tall and Gwen is short and Peter is shorter than Hobie but taller than Miles and Miles should really either wear taller shoes or stop worrying about height.
(Hobie notices Miles is bothered by their height difference and begins to purposefully loom over Miles, who retorts by socking him in the stomach, causing him to double over. Not so tall anymore. )
2.
Miles Morales loves music. He doesn't wear his headphones when he's Spider-Man, to be sure, because they would knock around and distract him and probably break.
But it's a damn shame. He would if he could.
Hobie Brown also loves music. Obviously, he plays in a band.
But Miles didn't realize how talented Hobie was until one afternoon, when he dropped by Hobie's universe to say hello and found Hobie shredding his guitar. Hobie is alone, without his band members. His fingers move along the strings expertly. Miles is enraptured.
It isn't his type of music - definitely not - but if he's being honest, Hobie might be the reason it becomes his type of music.
He just hopes to god that Hobie never learns that.
Hobie finishes what is certainly a stunning solo and Miles interrupts his reverie by slow clapping.
"Nice," he says simply.
Hobie nods, looking startled to see Miles. "Yeah. You know how to play?"
Miles shakes his head.
"C'mon then," Hobie invites, waving Miles over. Miles walks forward cautiously. He pulls his mask over his head and tucks it away.
"What?" he asks, slightly nervous.
Hobie holds out the guitar to him.
"What? Me?" He's incredulous now. He's seen Hobie kick people in the balls for trying to touch his guitar. "Really?"
"Yeah, mate. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it," Hobie says, the guitar still proffered.
"Yeah, okay then," Miles replies, swallowing. He takes the guitar in his hands, nearly reverently.
"It's not fragile, you can put it on." Hobie rolls his eyes and hooks one finger in the shoulder strap.
"Right." Miles pulls on the guitar. It's heavier than it looks, especially when Hobie's wearing it, and it settles against his chest uncomfortably. He places one hand towards the bottom of the guitar and one up at the neck. "So, what do you want me to do?"
Hobie sighs and begins to instruct Miles. He moves Miles' fingers onto certain strings, making sure they hold their arch above the frets. He explains how to hold the pick and what strumming rhythm to use.
Eventually, they're set, and Hobie nods to signal to Miles. Miles takes a steadying breath and strums the guitar. Down, up, down. A simple motion. After a moment Hobie signals for Miles to stop, and he positions his fingers anew.
This continues for another half hour before Hobie retrieves his guitar and gives Miles a fist bump. Miles feels both disappointed and relieved that it's over.
(And if the feeling of Hobie tenderly adjusting his fingers lingers in his mind for another few days, that's his own business.)
3.
Miles Morales has never understood the appeal of piercings. For himself, anyway. If others want piercings, that's cool. But he's never really felt the desire to stick needles in himself. He's scared of them getting infected, and he's scared of them tearing his skin, and he assumes they'd probably be kind of uncomfortable.
Hobie Brown obviously felt the desire to stick needles in himself. Many times.
He has piercings in his nose, eyebrows, ears, and lips. Miles wonders how difficult it would be for Hobie to get through airport security.
Miles also wonders how painful those piercings were. Obviously they were worth whatever pain they gave, since Hobie had so many different piercings. He wonders how many different pieces of jewelry Hobie owns. He wonders when he got the piercings. He wonders if Hobie has any other piercings anywhere else on his body.
He will never ask Hobie any of these questions, because that would be embarrassing.
"Miles!"
Miles startles at the sound of Gwen's voice. "Ah, shit. What's up?"
"I've been saying your name." She sounds annoyed.
"You zoned out hard," Pavitr adds.
Miles shakes his head, as if that would help to loose the threads of thought that were still clinging to his mind. "Yeah, sorry. Just tired, I guess?"
Gwen sighs.
She also has a piercing. On her eyebrow. Miles feels like that would be an uncomfortable place to have a piercing. Hobie has two eyebrow piercings. Double the pain. Miles wonders if he would ever be brave enough to get a piercing. He decides that the only thing holding him back is his fear. And the fact that his Mami would probably kick his ass.
"Okay, well, someone obviously isn't focused enough for this. We'll meet up tomorrow," Gwen instructs.
Miles feels guilty and tries to apologize, but Gwen brushes him off. "It's fine, Miles. Just... get some rest, okay?"
Miles nods, but doesn't head home like Gwen and Pavitr. He can't bring himself to.
He's on the precipice of something, he can feel it. Going home would be too much of a letdown.
He travels to Hobie's universe. He tells himself it's on a whim, but he knows it's not.
Hobie doesn't seem surprised to see him there, but then again, Hobie doesn't seem surprised by much.
"What's up?" Hobie greets casually.
Now that he's actually here, Miles begins to grow anxious.
"Uh, nothing, man. Just wanted to drop by, you know."
Hobie raises an eyebrow. "Sure, mate."
There's silence for a few moments while Miles tries to resist blurting out what he really wants to ask.
He fails.
"Can I touch your piercings?"
Hobie's eyes widen. "Well, I wasn't expecting to hear that."
"I just- I've been thinking and I might want to get my ears pierced?" Miles' voice ticks upward into a question, but Hobie's face relaxes, like this explains everything.
"Yeah, you can touch my piercings."
Miles is both relieved and on edge by this admission. He leans forward and Hobie tilts his head towards Miles' searching fingers. His hand lands on Hobie's ear. He had entirely intended to be gentle and whatnot, but he isn't quite so delicate as he had planned. He flips up Hobie's earlobe and wiggles the cuffs and generally tests the endurance of Hobie's patience.
"Did they hurt?"
"Not much."
"Have they gotten infected?"
Hobie frowns. He taps the highest piercing. "This one has. It was miserable. Had to take this medicine. Bloody disgusting."
"How many piercings do you have?"
"Eight. Three on my ear, two eyebrow, one nose, one lip, and one belly-button piercing."
Miles doesn't bother to stifle his laugh. "You have a belly-button piercing?"
"Yeah," Hobie replies, rolling his eyes.
"Do any of your piercings get irritated?" Miles asks, turning Hobie's face so he can eye Hobie's eyebrow piercing.
Miles notices Hobie's eyes are following his face and his hands as much as he can when leaning over him.
"Yeah, sometimes. If I don't keep my lip or nose piercings clean."
"Why did you get your piercings?"
"They, uh, make a statement. They're punk rock. They're loud. They're different. I like how they look and feel."
"Do they make lumps in your suit?"
Hobie smiles. "No. I'm not sure what's up with that thing, but it's practically magic. My piercings and my hair don't fuck up the shape at all."
Miles nodded. His was the same.
"Do they hurt when people pull on them?"
"Depends. How hard are you pulling?"
Miles meets Hobie's eyes for a second and immediately draws back, painfully aware of the fact that his fingers were cradling Hobie's jaw and tracing his facial features for a solid three minutes.
"Sorry about that."
"You're good. Nice to see you taking an interest. You wanted your ears pierced?"
"Eventually, yeah."
"Want to get them done now?"
Miles looks back at Hobie. "Yes."
(They're small diamond studs. Miles barely flinches when the piercing gun goes off. Hobie returns the favor and takes Miles' head in his hands, inspecting the earrings. He gives Miles his stamp of approval and Miles heads home, dreading his parents reaction. He knows his Uncle Aaron would've loved to see them though.)
4.
Miles Morales designed his own suit. He's happy with it too, regardless of anyone's comments about him "bleeding from the armpits".
He remembers his first suit. His first suit of his own, anyway. He didn't count the too-small costume he'd gotten when this had all begun. He would often wear it with a hoodie and shorts or his Jordans on top. Eventually, he discarded these items. They slowed him down and increased the chances of someone recognizing him.
Hobie Brown didn't have these concerns. He always wore that vest, if not a tattered shirt and pants, over his suit. His vest was decorated with various pins and patches. Miles wonders how Hobie can stand it. The pins are constantly clinking against Hobie's buttons and other pins, and that's just when he walks. Hobie is entirely incapable of stealth with that outfit. Given, Hobie was mostly incapable of stealth even without his accessories, but the point still stands. He's practically the opposite of Miles.
Miles' attention is still drawn to that vest. Whether due to its noisiness or its brightness or its ownership, Miles couldn't say, but he was drawn to it nonetheless.
One afternoon, he and Hobie are in his bedroom, and he asks Hobie about it. Hobie pulls off the vest and holds it in his lap.
"Someone important gave it to me," he says vaguely, which is his right. "I don't want to lose it, just like I didn't want to lose them. It's a reminder."
Miles hums. After a moment he flops backwards onto his bed. Hobie follows suit.
"Tell me about the pins," Miles prompts.
Hobie holds the vest up above their heads. It blocks the sunlight filtering in through Miles' blinds. He has the thought that he should close his blinds, which he immediately discards, as that would require him to move from where he's laying.
Hobie weaves a tale for Miles. The pin with a UFO on it is from a friend and this pin is from an obscure band that may or may not only exist in Hobie's world. The purple pin is from Gwen and the yellow one from Pavitr and he'd stolen this piece of paper from Miguel and turned it into a pin and this was a brooch his grandmother had owned and so on and so forth. As soon as Hobie had explained the last pin, one with the anarchy symbol on it, Miles leapt up from his bed.
He scanned his floor, searching for his school bag. He heard Hobie hesitantly ask Miles what he's up to, but Miles ignores him in favor of digging through his closet. After a moment, Miles withdraws, holding up a small black pin triumphantly. He tosses it to Hobie, who catches it in one hand, peering at it curiously.
"BLM? What does it mean?"
Miles' eyes widen as he realizes what this means. "I guess this didn't happen in your universe. There have been a lot of black people killed by police officers and a few cases got recorded or were particularly brutal and became public knowledge. Obviously we were upset and this led to a movement called 'Black Lives Matter' or BLM." He goes on to explain the riots and the police officers let off with reduced sentences and the anger and unrest that had followed. The system needed to change, and in the end they made a difference. Many would argue over what kind of a difference they made or whether or not it was enough, but it was something.
Hobie's smiling by the end. "Hell yeah, mate. Stand the fuck up. We've had similar things happen, but our pigs don't get off so easily."
Miles smiles too.
"So, why the shirt?" Miles asks, moving on.
"Why not?" Hobie shoots back, and Miles concedes his point.
The silence that falls is companionable and Miles closes his eyes, relaxing where he is beside Hobie.
He opens his eyes a crack when he feels Hobie stand up and move throughout Miles' room. Hobie pauses in front of Miles' closet door. "Can I poke around?"
Miles shrugs, and Hobie pulls the door open wider. He thumbs through Miles' hangers and Miles sits up and watches Hobie curiously.
He pulls out a basketball jersey. "Can I try this on?"
"Sure. Can I try that on?" Miles gestures to Hobie's vest. Hobie agrees and they both pull on the other's clothing.
Standing in front of the mirror, Miles twists, trying to see how it hangs on him. It's a bit baggy, but it's baggy on Hobie too, so he assumes that's how it's supposed to be.
Miles' eyes flick to Hobie and get stuck like a fly in honey. He's traded the trashed blue shirt for Miles' jersey and he has never been more okay with someone borrowing his clothes.
"Looking good."
"Who? Me or you?"
"Why does it have to be or?"
"A'ight."
(They don't trade clothes often. Their styles really just don't mix well. But every so often a tank top will make its way into Hobie's wardrobe and Miles sticks more vulgar pins onto his school bag and it's enough.)
5.
Miles Morales is bisexual. And he's only just finding this out.
He's done some research before, and he knows what the term means, but he's never fully considered the implications of the phrase.
Hobie Brown is pansexual. And he's been out for a solid five years. And Miles is only finding this out right now.
Gwen came out to them as trans. Them being Pavitr, Hobie, and Miles. It doesn't change anything. Of course it doesn't. She's still one of Miles' best friends. She always has been and she always will be. She'd also come out as bi. That was more of a side note though, and it also didn't bother Miles. But it did allow for some introspection. Pavitr had asked her when she'd started to question. Both about the bi thing and the trans thing. He was sort of curious about guys himself, and he wanted to compare his experiences to someone who used the label bi.
She said that she'd just always had these friends growing up that she'd had awfully devoted feelings towards and that she'd always adored. At this point, Hobie jumped in with the very helpful contribution that he is pan. He and Gwen bumped fists and Miles and Pavitr had nodded, like two not-so-straight guys were supposed to do.
Pavitr explained that he was in love with his girlfriend. Very much so. But he'd always found guys attractive and only recently found out that was less normal than he'd thought.
Which led to a little internal crisis of Miles' own. But, like any considerate friend, he postponed it until after they'd all gone home and everyone had reassured Gwen twelve times over that it didn't change anything, even though she hadn't been worried.
But now Miles is alone in his room with nothing to distract from his thoughts, swirling around attraction.
To start off with, he had definitely liked Gwen. Gwen who is a girl. But thinking back, he had some awfully awed feelings about a kid named Patrick who he'd been friends with in the 7th grade. Which is not normal straight guy behavior. He'd also liked Tamika, that girl who he'd had his first kiss with. But he'd been awfully close with his friend Zachary at the time and seeing Zach's face the day after he'd kissed Tamika had made him feel sick to his stomach. Straight Miles: 2, Gay Miles: 2. It's a tie.
Honestly, it's completely clear to Miles. He is bi. Bisexual. Attracted to both men and women. He has more than enough examples to make this glaringly obvious.
The real issue is that one of these examples is a ridiculously tall, guitar playing, pierced, vest-wearing, punk rock Spider-Man.
Yeah.
He has a crush on Hobie Brown.
(He proceeds to tell absolutely no one. But Pavitr gives him a knowing look the next time he enters HQ, walking beside Hobie. Goddamn observant chai-drinking matchmaker.)
+1
Miles Morales is a mess. He's not been avoiding Hobie since his revelation last week, but he's also not not been avoiding Hobie.
He practically loses his mind when he's around Hobie and when he's not around Hobie. He can't focus when Hobie's nearby, his attention drawn to his fellow superhero, but he also can't focus when Hobie's not around. He keeps wondering what Hobie's doing and how his day is going and if Miles should drop by later.
Hobie Brown is observant. He noticed Miles' off behavior and has done his best to snap Miles out of it. It's a shame that Hobie is the reason Miles is in it.
Eventually, Miles gets cornered. He hasn't been expecting to escape this conversation forever, but he's also been hoping that it would be further off.
Now, saying that Miles gets cornered is vague enough to give off the notion that it's not a literal description. This is a wrong impression.
One day Miles walks into his dorm room and the door locks shut behind him. He whirls around and jiggles the door handle frantically, immediately launching into fight or flight mode.
Hobie clears his throat. Miles turns back around and Hobie is leaning against Miles' open window.
"Oh. Hey, Hobie, what's up?" Miles asks, relaxing slightly but not entirely. Something is off.
"Nothing much. Just wanted to drop by, say hello," Hobie says lightly. It's fake.
"Why's my door locked?" Miles stops beating around the bush.
"I don't know what you could mean," Hobie lies.
Miles curses under his breath and bounces on the balls of his feet, ready for a fight.
Hobie can see the change in Miles and lunges.
Miles vaults over his head, shooting webs at Hobie. He misses, as Hobie dodges out of the way.
Hobie aims a kick at Miles' head, and when it's blocked he follows up with a quick punch to the stomach. Miles winces, but catches Hobie's fist in one of his hands.
They quickly fall into a rhythm. Kick, block, dodge, swing, jump, swing, kick, and so on and so forth.
Tiring of the game, Miles turns invisible and nails Hobie with a hit to the solar plexus.
Hobie lets out a huff of breath and collapses backwards onto Miles' roommates bed. Miles goes and sits beside Hobie, perched on the edge of the bed, in case he decides to leap back into action.
"What're you doing here, Hobie?" Miles pants.
"You've been avoiding me, Miles," Hobie returns, arm thrown over his face.
"No." Miles is quick to the draw. "I haven't."
"I'm not a dimwit, Spider-Man."
"I know that."
"What's going on?" Hobie presses.
"Nothing," Miles replies, voice terse.
"And you're positive?"
"Yes, I'm positive."
"I'm not. Tell me." Hobie sits up and flicks the back of Miles' head.
"Ouch," Miles complains, rubbing the spot.
"Stop being dramatic," Hobie shoots back.
"Says you," Miles retorts, settling back onto the bed.
Hobie grunts. "Shut the fuck up."
"Make me."
Immediately Miles can feel his face grow warm.
Hobie grins.
"Fine then."
Before Hobie can do anything, Miles leans forward and captures Hobie's mouth in a kiss. It's soft and probing and it only lasts a few seconds.
Hobie's hand reaches out to grab Miles' and he pulls Miles closer to him, kissing Miles again. This time is less gentle. Their lips slot together and Hobie's tongue slips between Miles' teeth and Miles finally, finally , gets the opportunity to tug at Hobie's lip piercing. He lets out a soft noise, and Hobie eventually leans back, smiling.
Miles is smiling too.
He flops backwards onto the bed, as he's done dozens of times before, Hobie following suit.
Miles' eyes are trained on the bunk above his head, scrutinizing the metal bars supporting the mattress.
He edges his hand closer to Hobie's and their pinkies brush.
Miles can feel Hobie's eyes on him, but he refuses to turn.
Hobie links their pinkies, giving Miles' a brief squeeze.
Miles' hand travels across Hobie's palm gently and cautiously, traversing a new landscape.
Miles' hand settles, fingers twining with Hobie's.
They lay there in the silence, with nothing but the innocent press of skin and an understanding.