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Chase Hollow does not Like and Follow the rules. Especially not the ones that Deacon has set, particularly in regard to his comic book collection.
“Touch these again and I’ll…well, I’m sure I’ll come up with a threat eventually.”
“Sure you will, Dorkin. Just wait until I send Boris to chew up your collector’s edition of Hearts Lament.”
Public Horse Enemy #1 doesn’t appreciate the sentiment, and sends Chase out of his room. Thankfully, confrontation regarding the handwritten fanfiction lying on his desk was avoided. Currently, Chase’s mind is preoccupied by relatively homosexual thoughts.
He’s not giving up on getting the comics, though. He’s patient. At least in comparison to, say, a two year old. Begrudgingly, he waits.
Nighttime falls at last, and Chase glances wistfully at the moon like a wife waiting for her husband to return from war. Everything reminds him of his not-boyfriend boyfriend. Even the speck of purple paint on his desk. He bets Buddy would look stunning in that color.
Chase puts his ear up to his wall. Good. He concludes from the ear splitting snores that Deacon seems to be asleep. Slowly, he creaks open the door and tiptoes into the hallway, carefully avoiding the floorboard by the railing that creaks.
Click. Click. He jams a paperclip into the doorknob. Yes!
Deacon’s door swings open, revealing a sight that Chase immediately snaps a picture of. For, you know, blackmail purposes. Dim moonlight shines on his cousin, lying splayed out on the floor. He’s still wearing those pirate themed pajamas that have hardly fit since high school. Under his messed up hair, his notebook open to a page of self insert fanfiction that Chase can’t help but laugh at.
“Of course you’re charming the elf maidens by talking to their horses. Jeez, I don’t think it can get any more Deacon than this,” he whispers to himself, flipping through the story. He never wants to see the words “admired his lovely freckled face” again.
Right, the comics. Deacon’s treasured box of comics is easy enough to find. It’s marked “DO NOT TOUCH” in bold, neon yellow letters across the side, instructions which Chase chooses to ignore. He looks through the selection for one in particular - there it is! The Amazing Spider-Girl, in nearly mint condition. Wow. He stares at the cover for a second. He was never into superhero stuff, so he has no idea what’s chasing Spider-Girl. It appears to be some sort of half girl, half mechanical octopus thing. Weird.
With the comic in hand, Chase sneaks back to his room, gently shaking a tiny, metallic girl awake.
“Pst. Silver. Are you up?”
The girl blinks her gemstone eyes, pink shimmery light reflecting the soft glow of Chase’s desk lamp. “Yes, Chase? What may be the problem?”
“I’m super sorry to wake you up, I know it’s really late.” He glances at the clock. 3:42 AM. “I promise, I’m only doing this once. I was just curious if going into a comic for narratonin would work.”
Silver beams, clapping her hands excitedly. “Of course! I would be delighted to design a superhero outfit for you! I’ve been in such an outfit stump lately, and this should help very much.”
“Oh my God, Silver, you’re the best!” the blonde exclaims, holding her close to his chest. He makes a mental reminder to get her extra cheese crackers in the morning.
“Come on, Buddy, please be awake,” he mutters under his breath before sticking his key right into the center of the comic. It’s not like he wants to see him, anyways. He’s just conducting an experiment on comics.
Woah.
Where am I?
Glancing to his right, he gasps. Frigid wind ruffles his hair, strands of perfectly conditioned blonde peaking through the hood of his suit. He’s standing on the edge of a building, and below him, unbound by the railings, lies the city.
Glaring lights fade into twinkling stars, the sky a vivid midnight blue. Neon signs weave through the complex of buildings, each one distinct yet alike. From where he stands, the city seems to call to him, to lure him into a blur of radiant hues and glimmering lights.
Chase could stay to admire the view, but he has another view he’s looking forward to. In particular, that of a certain villainess who prowls the streets, mechanical hands inching down the concrete. He is his admirer, after all.
Suddenly, Chase regrets not reading the comic ahead of time. He’s balancing on top of some random building, and he has no idea how to get down. Use your brain. You have webs.
Wait, he has webs. Holy Mother of Alistair. He has webs.
On top of that, he has an even cooler outfit. A yellow star with a spider is the focus of his comfortable, pink bodysuit. Over it, Silver’s given him his signature jacket, cozy enough to keep him warm from the harsh winds of the night. His mask must be around somewhere. Chase digs through his hoodie pockets, feeling for any traces of fabric.
There it is! He holds the mask to his eyes, testing if the eye holes really work. Well, how else would Spider-Girl see?
Obviously, the eye holes work. Mesh is made to be seen through. Little idiot, Buddy would’ve said. God, he can’t stop thinking about him.
Stupid…jerkface…I hate you. Get you and your stupidly pretty eyes out of my head.
Pulling the mask over his face, he looks down at the city, calculating how he wants to test his webs. Come on, this can’t be that hard. He flicks his wrist forward, pulling back instinctively at the sight of glistening web.
So that’s how that works. Huh. Weird.
Chase flicks his next web towards the nearest building. It latches on too easily, and he isn’t sure how much he trusts such a thin line of silk to hold him. He only has a few hundred feet between himself and the concrete sidewalk.
Come on, Chasey. You can do it. Deep breaths.
His feet leave the safety of the ground, and suddenly, he realizes he is one with the sky. He races along the wind, defying gravity with his swing of courage.
Step. Step. It’s over before he realizes. Adrenaline pulses through his body, coursing through his veins. The feeling is something beyond exhilarating. He’s not sure how to describe it.
“Took you long enough to find me.”
Chase whips around, startled by the unexpected voice. “Buddy! H-hi…?”
He’s unable to form words. His normally talkative mouth seems to have glued itself shut in the presence of the other.
Violet has outdone herself, as usual. Nox has been given a sleek black bodysuit, a faint imprint of a moon visible on his gleaming, silver breastplate. It fits his figure quite well, and Chase takes obvious notice of this.
Hazy, purple goggles rest on Nox’s tousled hair. Violet’s signature color, of course. But the most discerning factor remains the four large mechanical arms protruding from his back, holding him several feet above the ground. Threatening, Chase supposes. His focus is elsewhere.
“Why would you pick this comic? It’s…quite out of the ordinary for you.” Nox sets himself close enough to Chase that he can see the outline of his face through the mask. Even through the fabric, he observes the arch of Chase’s jaw. The slight curve of the muscle in his neck. Though Chase is hardly visible, Nox finds himself mesmerized.
“U-um, Dorkin used to read this stuff, like, all the time, and I thought it would be cool to, you know, like, try it out or something, since we’ve never done it before.”
Nox sighs. “Have you even read this comic?”
“Well…not exactly.” Chase shrinks, embarrassed.
“As I expected. You, Spider-Girl, are supposed to hunt me, Lady Octopus, down after I commit a large break-in at the bank. You are driven by the fact that she is the daughter of Dr. Octopus, your former enemy.”
“Octopus? Does that explain the big robot arms and everything?”
“Partially.”
“Cool, cool.” Chase rubs his gloved hands together, unsure how to continue. “So, uh, how have you been?”
“Better, now that I’ve seen you.”
“Wh-what?” A warm blush rushes across his face. Chase is now more tomato than man. Out of instinct, he nervously scratches the back of his head. He feels infinitely more grateful for the mask.
Nox is aware of the effect he has on the blonde, and he carefully suppresses a grin. “You heard me quite clearly, love.”
LOVE?!
Did Buddy really just call me that?!
Chase has gone into full panic mode, since he is both a desperate and useless homosexual. His brain has completely shut down, and the most he can do it stammer out air.
“Cat got your tongue?” Nox can’t help himself. He briefly thinks back to Chase in his fluffy cat outfit. Insufferable at the time, but cute nonetheless.
“I, um, no? I’m fine, I’m fine!” Firsthand embarrassment crushes Chase into pieces. Why can’t he talk normally?
“You don’t look fine to me.” Nox brings himself closer, his hand within reach of Chase’s near hyperventilating face. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Wh-wha-I, um, yeah, I’m, yeah. Uh, yeah?”
His finger reaches for the bottom of Chase’s mask. Slowly, he pulls up the fabric, tracing each line of the pop star’s neck. He wonders what would happen if he kissed it.
“Buddy? Um, what, uh, are you, um, doing?”
Nox backtracks for a moment. “Wait, are you alright if I do this?”
“Y-yeah. It’s totally fine. I’m not, like, totally freaking out or anything. We literally kissed once, so, like, I’m, like, fine with, like, anything.”
Good. Nox sighs in relief. He continues pulling up the mask, revealing inch by inch of Chase’s honey colored skin. God, he’s beautiful. How can he not take a second to admire him?
Lips. Chase’s lips are so close to his. Close enough to see the glitter sparkling on his bottom lip. Nox feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. In, out. In, out. It takes all of him to pull himself together, to stop his hand from trembling. He traces his lips with his thumb, hovering mere atoms away.
Chase’s breath now comes in short gasps, hitched. His face feels hot. Too hot. Nox’s thumb is tracing his features, leaving a trail of burning heat with every touch. He isn’t sure what to do. What can he do, anyways? He’s got a hot guy on the verge of kissing him on the who-knows-what-floor of the who-knows-what-building, and he’s very much taking in his Y/N moment.
Nox leans in just enough so that his own lips linger above Chase’s. They’re breathing the same air at this point, and Chase thinks he’s going to have the best kiss of his life, so he leans forward-
-and falls on his face.
“YOU JERK!”
Nox pulls back at the last moment possible, laughing to himself. No, I can’t kiss him yet. Eventually. But it’s cute to see him like this.
He’d better run. He quickly positions himself by the edge of the building. Should he make a grand, dramatic speech before flipping onto the ground? He debates it. Like, seriously debates it. Thankfully, he decides against it, and carefully maneuvers his mechanical arms into climbing down the building.
“What an absolute jerk,” Chase mutters under his breath, still lying flat on the ground. “Stupid jerkface…king of jerks…stupid.” His mind is still whirling out of control.
Wait, where did Buddy go? Chase realizes that he’s disappeared. He peeks over the building’s railing at the stupidly hot robot octopus person heading down the street. Seriously?! Ugh, I hate him!
He’d better figure out how to get there. Another web, I guess.
He swings to the next building, wind blowing through his hair. Shining windows and people and taxis and traffic lights streak by in seconds, a clash of color and noise. His eyes never leave the octopus shaped figure in front of him. Not because he has a crush on him or anything stupid like that. Not at all.
By the time he manages to catch up, he’s completely out of breath. Fifty combined years of dance training never prepared him for swinging between buildings. It’s like cardio fitness on steroids.
“It’s not fair! You have your…your stupid octopus arm things and all I have is sticky rope stuff!” Chase huffs through his mask, balancing himself on the edge of a metal pipe. He looks up at Nox, a faint trace of a smile on his face. Cute, he has to admit. If only I could see him smile forever.
“Then swing faster, pretty boy. Maybe you’ll catch me next time.” With a wink, Nox disappears into the neon glow of the city, and Chase’s heart seems to flutter away with him.
HEY! Chase’s mind snaps into place. He’s supposed to be hunting him down, not flirting with him! How am I gonna catch up this time?! Maybe I should go by ground instead. It could be faster? Potentially?
His fall to the ground goes relatively uneventfully. That is, until he slips on the ice layered over the sidewalk.
“Look, it’s Spider-Girl!” A little girl who can’t be older than five points at him. She smiles casually as she kicks a block of ice out of her path. Chase would’ve found this a lot cuter if that block of ice didn’t permanently ruin his future ability to have children.
“Yeah, it’s me. Ow. I hate kids, actually,” he whispers, grabbing the nearest telephone pole in an attempt to stand upright. Currently, his posture is equivalent to that of a shrimp. But at least he’s standing.
“Hey, kid! Santa isn’t real!” he calls after the girl for good measure. Might as well make her pay. The girl immediately breaks down into tears, and her mom shoots him the most murderous look he might’ve ever seen on anyone ever. Chase shoots them a thumbs up and makes a break for it.
Phew, situation avoided. Now, where’s the bank? It has to be around here somewhere. Did he go the wrong way? Chase checks the nearest map of the city. Surprisingly, he’s going in the right direction. Two more blocks straight ahead, then a left turn.
Easy. The bank is very clearly marked “BANK” in big, neon blue letters. The comic artists probably weren’t paid enough to come up with a proper bank name.
Chaos has erupted around the street. Smashed glass litters the sidewalk, glimmering under the warm glow of nearby street lamps. People are screaming, clutching their coats and bags as they hasten away from the crime scene. Ear-splitting sirens pierce the cold air as police cars quickly approach the shattered windows.
Jeez, Buddy, you couldn’t have made this any less dramatic? Chase sighs as a man nearly runs into him, shrieking at the top of his lungs.
“SPIDER-GIRL!! SAVE US, IT’S THE LADY OCTOPUS!!”
“Alright, alright. Stay octo-mistic, dude. I got this.” He gives the hysterical man a pat on the back as he strolls into the bank like it’s a walk on a sunny day at the park.
“IT’S THE SPIDER-GIRL!” another bank worker screams, pointing at him. “QUICK, LADY OCTOPUS HAS GONE TO THE VAULTS!!”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. Get a whole load of me. Chase Hollow, Like and Follow.” Chase strikes a pose, winking at his terrified audience. That’s when it clicks that he has a mask, and his audience can’t exactly see his perfectly stunning face. Looks like he needs to go back to the hero stuff.
“Oh, come on, seriously?!” Chase grumbles, staring down a hallway where a chandelier probably worth triple his house lies shattered on the floor, jewels and intricately carved sculptures scattered. How is he supposed to walk across the… wait.
I can climb walls, right?! The sudden idea fills him with glee, and he rushes to the nearest wall to test his theory out.
YES! Chase can, in fact, stick to walls. He crawls, arguably like an adult sized baby (actually, more like a baby sized baby), towards the big doors labeled “VAULT” in giant, golden letters on the wall. Way to make it inconspicuous. They were practically asking for a break-in at that point.
The vault’s already been emptied clean by the time Chase reaches the room. All that’s left is a single note on the floor, written in sparkly, jet black pen.
Since you clearly haven’t read this yet, I’ll tell you where to find me. Go to the end of the street and make a right. Find the restaurant called Shawarma Palace. I’ll be in the back alley.
Don’t be late. I don’t have valuable time to waste, especially not on a lovable little idiot like you.
Yours,
-N
N is for name, Chase supposes. He still doesn’t know Buddy’s name after all.
Wait.
YOURS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!
He stood there, frozen for a while. Yours…it could mean anything. I mean, we’re practically dating. Idiot. Go find Thot Topic before you start panicking in the middle of a robbed bank vault.
That’s precisely what he does next. Except he goes to the wrong end of the street.
This is why Deacon refuses to let Chase drive. Ever. Negative sense of direction.
Chase also gets distracted by a bakery halfway down the street. The striped, pastel pink awning catches his eye immediately, and without even realizing, he finds himself approaching the flower covered doors.
A tiny cat bell dings as the doors swing open. The smell of freshly baked bread wafts directly to his nose, and his mouth practically starts drooling on the spot. Ahh, gluten. Perfect.
He looks around. People are staring, jaws completely dropped. Is it because he’s gotten dirt on the checkered floor tiles? Did he grow a third arm? Did his music career finally take off and people recognize him from his top tier Star Brigade covers?
Oh, right. He’s Spider-Girl.
The lady behind the counter stumbles back in surprise. “Spider-Girl! Hi! Welcome, uh, hello! Take whatever you want, everything’s on us!” she stammers, still in shock from seeing her friendly neighborhood hero in her shop.
Chase turns around. Slowly. “Ma’am. Did you say… everything?”
He walks out the door with his arms cradling a lifetime’s supply of pastries and chocolate muffins. He regrets nothing.
Chewing a raspberry jam filled pastry with his mask half up, Chase walks down the street, looking for any traces of Buddy. He still doesn’t realize he’s on the wrong street.
Alleyway, alleyway…there it is! He turns into a dark corner right by some Italian restaurant. It’s probably close enough. There’s only so many mysterious alleyways in a city.
“I had a feeling I’d find you here.”
Chase swivels around. Buddy’s nowhere to be seen. Where could he be?
He hears a sigh. “I figured you went the wrong way when you didn’t show up after ten minutes. And it seems you…made a stop along the way.”
“Hey, I even picked up a bunch of chocolate muffins for you, you jerk!” The words are half muffled by the pastry in Chase’s mouth.
Click. Click. Before he knows it, mechanical arms latch onto his waist, carrying him up into the air. Nox holds him and his stack of pastries right in front of his face, dangling above the alley. But instead of threats, he says three words.
“What flavor is that pastry?”
That was five words. Apparently, the author needs to go back to elementary school and learn how to count.
“Raspberry. But I got chocolate stuff for you, ‘cause you love chocolate and everything.”
“I’ll see for myself.”
Nox takes a step closer, and for one glorious moment, Chase thinks they’re about to kiss again. Loud incorrect buzzer. Dollar Store Dracula takes a bite out of the pastry hanging from Chase’s mouth. What was meant to be a charismatic moment has now turned into awkward chewing noises.
“Uhh…do you like it?” Chase raises his eyebrows, watching raspberry jam drip from the corner of Buddy’s heart shaped lips. He wishes he was the jam.
“It’s good.” Nox coughs, attempting to break the silence. “So…”
Suddenly, Chase finds himself staring right into Nox’s eyes. Striking, moonstone blue stares back at him. Charming. Seductive, even. Each their own little universe.
“Your eyes…” he whispers, pastries long forgotten. “They’re so pretty.”
“O-oh. I…I suppose.” Nox mumbles, unsuccessfully attempting to hide his face behind his mechanical claws. Unlike Chase, he doesn’t have a mask to hide his quickly forming blush.
“No, Buddy, you don’t get it,” Chase insists, hastily chewing through his pastry to speak clearer. “It’s like…it’s like your eyes are like a paradise angel fence thing pathway.”
“You mean a gateway to heaven?”
“Exactly!”
“That’s…incredibly kind of you.”
“I’m just speaking facts.” Chase nods, unable to tear his eyes away.
Nox isn’t sure how to respond, so he does the next best thing.
How to Avoid Awkward Situations with Octo-Robo-Nox 101:
Step 1: Drop Chase (and his pastries) on the floor. Idiot.
Step 2: Profusely apologize for dropping him. You’re in love with him, after all.
Step 3: Use your mechanical arms to crawl away from the scene as fast as possible.
Step 4: Regret everything and find another alleyway to hide in.
Step 5: Befriend a raccoon. You can no longer face humanity.
“God, oh my God, what do I do?!” Nox hunches over by the raccoon, face buried in his hands. “This is ten times worse than when I said ‘left the thing on’ that one time! I can’t face him anymore! He’s going to hate me now, and he’s never going to talk to me again, and he’s-oh come on, you can’t even understand anything I’m saying!”
The raccoon nods. Perhaps in mock sympathy. She’s really more interested in the sticky pastry crumbs on his suit. “Squeak squeak squeak. Squeak, squeak,” she replies, since she is a raccoon and therefore incapable of coherent speech.
“That’s a good point,” Nox admits, slumping against the wall in defeat. “Hopefully, he’ll have no idea where I’ve-” He looks up and wishes he could dissolve into dust.
Dangling precariously from the roof of a rickety Chinese food shop, Chase slowly lowers himself down the web, meeting Nox’s face upside down. He takes his mask off, and for a moment, all they can do is admire each other.
“Hey. Not cool of you to run away like that.”
Nox avoids his gaze. “I just…I didn’t know what to…”
“It’s okay. Forget it. Oh, and I still have two chocolate muffins saved. Figured you might still want one.” He digs in his hoodie pocket. “Aha! Perfectly intact.”
“Thank you, Chase.”
Chase’s entire body seems to burst into flames. Chase. Chase. He said my name. He wants to hear it again. He wants to hear him say it infinitely. God. It replays in his head like a broken record. Chase. Chase. Chase.
“Y-yeah. It was, um, no, um, problem. Ooh, also, before I forget, I picked this up for you along the way.” Chase reaches into his other hoodie pocket. “Here. It reminded me of you.”
“I…”
He gently tucks the small, golden flower behind Nox’s ear. “See? It looks good with your outfit.”
The boy stares at him in complete silence.
“I…uh, I’m sorry if you don’t like it or anything, I just thought-I mean, like-”
Nox shuts him up by pressing their lips together.
A kiss is strange when it’s upside down. Chase’s stomach seems to flip upwards, rather than downwards like the first time. He finds his hands around Buddy’s neck, tracing every angle and every curve, memorizing it like he’ll never see him again. Brain system? Completely overloaded. It’s exploded into raining heart confetti.
The feeling of Nox’s lips still lingers as Chase pulls away, catching his breath. The world feels like a blur; he feels aware of everything yet nothing. The eyes which once glared at him with hatred now gaze upon him with pure adoration.
Both collectively agree that this kiss is a hundred million times better than the first one. Well, to be fair, they’re also not about to turn to paper maché. That tends to help.
“You just-”
“Yeah.”
Chase beams at Nox, and the world seems to dim in comparison. Suddenly, Nox is filled with the overwhelming need to tell him how perfect he is, how beautiful he looks dangling upside down with his golden hair all messed up, how much he wants to kiss him again-
CRASH!
“Yeah, I probably should’ve used a second web.”
“You. Absolute. Idiot.”
Chase gives him the biggest puppy eyes known to man. “Come on, you gotta admit that was the most romantic thing I’ve ever done.” He glares at the animal sitting next to Buddy. “Move, you stupid raccoon. Let me sit next to my boyfriend. Boyfriend. Huh. I like saying that.”
Boyfriend. What a childish word. Nox is about to argue against the casual use of the term when the raccoon, who has apparently understood every word, begins attacking his boyfriend.
“GET-OFF-YOU-STUPID-AGH!” Buddy practically has to yank the raccoon off of Chase. She screeches like a rabid bat, swiping her claws in the air.
FWIP!
“Now you decide to remember you have spider webs?! You couldn’t have remembered that five seconds earlier?!”
“Shut up, Buddy, I was pre-occupied with kissing you.” He presses another light kiss to Nox’s cheek for good measure. “Pretty.”
Scratches line Chase’s once pristine pop star face, but he’s grinning like he’s won the lottery. Still, it doesn’t help with Nox’s concern.
“Are you alright? Do the scratches hurt a lot?”
“Yeah, I’m in horrible pain. I think some mouth to mouth action would help me feel way better.” Chase wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“Ask for it, then.”
Suddenly, Chase’s ears flare bright red. “Wh-what?”
“If you want me to kiss you so badly, ask for it.”
“No. Nuh uh. I’m not doing that. You complete jer-”
Without thinking, Nox’s mechanical arm pulls Chase in for a second kiss, pressing him against the wall. He has no idea that kissing someone can be like this, that kissing Chase sets him on fire. It’s like he’s been waiting his whole life just to kiss him, to kiss the only person who gives his heart a reason to keep beating. For just this moment, he forgets everything, and he holds his world in his hands. Kiss him like you’ll lose him, he’d read once. It was nothing compared to reality.
“There, feel better?”
“Huhhhhh?” Chase can barely look Nox in the eyes, with his mind in a daze and lips partly swollen. He feels dizzy looking at Buddy.
“I said, do you feel better?”
“Wayyy better.”
CRASH!
Both turn around, immediately searching for the source of the noise. A person, apparently having fallen from the rooftop-
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY COMICS AT FOUR IN THE MORNING?! MORE IMPORTANTLY, ARE YOU PREGNANT AND IS IT BUDDY’S?!?!?!”
Chase Hollow never touches Deacon’s comic book collection again.