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clowningaroundmars · 20 days

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Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

#spiderverse #mine #miles morales #hobie brown #<- well i mean not really but yall know what i mean #hope u guys enjoyed this lil installment! <3 #i tried to make the action as entertaining as possible but y'all must know.... that it really is my weak spot so if you guys read all that #and went 'huh'#well then.... Understandable Have A Nice Day!#but listen mj is more often than not a total bamf in the comics and so to make 1610's mj not nearly as cool #esp when this is HOBIE we're talkin abt here... that would be criminal. so i did what i had to do #and i'm trying to like uuhhhh not do an Exposition Dump on hobie jones' character all at once #just sorta drip feeding y'all his backstory before we Get Into It ya feel me #also @ everyone leaving nice comments so far. I LOV YOU :) <3 #thank u!#sorry abt the messy ass art on this chapter. i rushed it as i'm sure y'all can tell #they also dont match up 1:1 on the story bc i did the sketches initially before i wrote all this #just as concept art before sitting down to write so i meannnn! but! they came out p close to the finished product #so i was like 'ok close enough lets just ink it and be done'#hope yall still like them anyhow LOL oops #anyways..... i gotta quit my yappin'#see yall on the next one <3 #punkflower #← almost forgot to tag oof

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honeydew-sillies · 2 years

Text

"Takenaka's Cure for Boredom"

A Mob Psycho tickle fic !!

word count: 2,446

a/n: I've had this sitting for around almost done for a bit and figured I'd cut it off where I did so I could finally post it! Will hopefully write a sequel eventually... no promises. Shoutout to these two for being my favorite ever. Next on the agenda is Takeritsho... mwahahaha !!

warnings: none aside from light swearing!

☆☆☆

"D-don't!"

Momozo felt the sly grin on his face grow ever so slightly larger. Across from him sat Kageyama Ritsu, both sitting on the latter's bed.

They had been doing their individual homework together the whole afternoon, Momozo texting the other that his weekend tennis practice had been called off. Well, "doing homework;" it was more so Ritsu trying and failing to get Momozo to pay attention to anything other than his phone, and in turn also getting distracted.

(He didn't normally have too much of an issue focusing, but it wasn't Momozo's fault the kid never took any breaks.)

The distraction currently being the way Momozo had confidently stated "I'm bored," before setting his phone down, shooting a glance at the younger boy sitting next to him on the bed, and slowly bringing his hands up as "claws," inching in Ritsu's direction. As he seemed to have made a very ANNOYING habit of doing recently.

"Don't what?"

"Do not tickle me! Takenaka I swear to god-"

As selfish as it may have been, Momozo always relished in how skittish he could get the "Mr. Student Council, Straight A's, Mature and Serious Pretty Boy," which was a facade that he had seen through almost immediately. And not because of his telepathy. Ignoring the part of his brain that groaned at how grossly cheesy it was, the older boy enjoyed being able to see this side of Ritsu.

"Okay, so you're telling me that you really do not want me to tickle you? Is that right?"

The brunette bit back a fond laugh as he watched Ritsu squirm ever so slightly. He noted the small smile that the other was trying very hard and failing to bite down, the way his cheeks were already a lovely shade of pink, and how he was very clearly hesitating in confirming that he most definitely did not want to be tickled right now. Momozo quirked up an eyebrow as if to say ‘I know you’re lying.’ He did that often.

This kid was so easy to read it was almost annoying at times. Almost.

"Hey! N-no fair, you can't use your telepathy, that's cheating!"

Momozo barked out a laugh, grin widening. Normally, he would've grown irritated at the accusation; but with Ritsu, it was far too much fun messing with him for Momozo to be angry. Poor kid just gave himself away, too.

"How many times do I have to remind you, I'm not using my powers. People can say a lot with their eyes and body language. Plus you’re, like, super easy to read."

He watched Ritsu swallow as the boy realized his mistake, once again floundering for any attempt at control over the situation. If Momozo didn't immediately shut down the train of thought, he probably would've said it was cute. Gross.

"W-wait, but my eyes were-"

"Saying that you want me to tickle you? Yeah, I picked up on that."

Growing impatient, Momozo dashed forward on the mattress while Ritsu was still taken aback from the "matter-of-fact" statement. The shorter of the two let out a yelp, scrambling to get away from his assailant, but to no avail. Not only had Momozo had a head start, but he was also just a tad stronger than Ritsu due to his practicing for club and his height. …At least Ritsu liked to tell himself that.

Momozo put on an innocent smile at the friend underneath him; Ritsu's head had found its way to his pillow on the way down, with Momozo resting his hands on either of Ritsu's sides as he kneeled next to him, towering over him just enough to keep him in place. And as much as a show the raven-haired boy made of squirming around, it was clear to both of them that he really wasn't trying to get away. Plus, if he did want to, he had the strength to do so at any time.

"Takenaka!" Ritsu very nearly whined, biting his lip as the wobbly smile on his face became more prominent.

"Mmhm?"

Ritsu threw Momozo what was apparently supposed to be a sharp glare, though there was no clear malice behind it. Embarrassment, maybe, but not anger.

This was so unfair. It was so… childish. Definitely not something a serious, mature and perfectly ordinary middle schooler would spend time doing. So why, Ritsu asked himself, was his stomach filled with a buzzing excitement? Why did he already feel the giggles bubbling up in his chest, and why was it fun? Why was he having fun?

Normally, the only person who could ever get away with and actively tickled Ritsu was his older brother, Shigeo. And occasionally Sho, which was becoming more common, though that was embarrassing just to think about. Momozo has been a… new addition to Ritsu’s “I actually enjoy your company more than an acquaintance” list.

Which had, once again, somehow turned into his “you’re allowed to tickle me without getting telekinetically slammed into a wall (on purpose)” list.

What’s worse was Momozo’s telepathy; it had unintentionally caused Ritsu to allow himself to be more honest with the brunette, which meant not being able to keep up his totally serious and responsible front all the time. The invisible threat of his thoughts and emotions being free to read created a nervousness in Ritsu, making him state more things outright instead of trying to cover them up like he normally would.

Which also meant revealing a more playful side not often seen by anyone, other than his older brother and family.

Hence the situation at hand.

“L-let me go!”

Speaking of telepathy, the more excited a person got usually meant the louder their thoughts got, both subconscious and not. And esper’s thoughts tended to stand out more to Momozo’s hearing in general, though he wasn't sure why. Probably some sort of weird power energy thing.

At least he wasn’t doing it on purpose when he heard ‘Oh my god just do it already this is awful this is so embarrassing he's so-’

“You could very easily get away if you wanted to, Kageyama.”

Ritsu let out an indignant growl. It was anything but intimidating.

He flusteredly spat out, “You’re so annoying!” and what Momozo also hears is ‘Please don’t make me admit it-’

He sighed almost fondly; he had been pretty mean, what with knowing how much anticipation got to the other boy. Maybe it was time to do what he had actually planned to after getting bored with his phone and work…

Ritsu let out another squeaky yelp as he finally felt the hands around his sides squeeze firmly, the hypersensitivity from being on edge having built up to the point where he couldn’t stop the first surge of laughter to cascade from his lips. It was slightly high-pitched, but still boyish and sporadic and somehow so perfectly Ritsu.

But if there's something else that is most definitely Ritsu, it’s being stubborn as all hell when he feels like it. So, instead of fighting back (which Momozo would make a point of bringing up later), the younger boy smacked a hand over his smiling mouth, muffling his laughter as he instinctively squirmed away from the fingers kneading into his sides once more. He tried weakly to roll from side to side in an attempt to dodge Momozo’s hands, which followed him no matter where he went.

“Aw c’monnnn, it’s no fun if you don’t laugh…”

Ritsu shook his head, shoulder bouncing ever so slightly with the laughter that was being held back.

Okay, new tactic, then.

Momozo took a moment to focus more than he had been previously, staring at the boy underneath him with a menacing grin as he projected his own thoughts:

‘I know you want to laugh. Come on come on come on just laughhh you are so boring-’

Ritsu jumped from the startle (he would never quite get used to that power), and let out a few muted giggles behind his hand, narrowing his eyes at the other boy as if to challenge him. He thought back, loud and clear,

‘Eat shit-’ Before very clearly stifling a laugh at whatever look just crossed Momozo’s face.

“Alright, jackass. If you want to be like that then…"

At first glance, most if not all people would not expect Takenaka Momozo to be a “playful” individual; he was cocky when comfortable, sure. Stand-offish, socially anxious, and hardly ever outright playful. In the same way the telepath was allowed to see a realer version of Ritsu, Ritsu was shown a different side of the former as well. And, in all honesty, he regards this fact fondly.

…Except right now.

The raven-haired boy only had time to exclaim a quick “NO!-” before he fell into louder laughter, audible even behind the hand clasped over his mouth. The cause of this laughter of course being the fingers that were once kneading into his sides moving to massage his lower ribs instead; even being so kind as to pay special attention to the sweet spot between the two lowest ribs, causing Ritsu to arch his back upwards and let out what could only be considered a squeal. His face was most definitely burning up now.

“Wow, was that a squeal dude? Forgot how ticklish you are…” Momozo noted nonchalantly, the teasing lilt in his normally aloof voice driving Ritsu mad.

“Shuhut UP! I’m nohot even thahat- NAHA-!”

Whatever Ritsu was about to say was very rudely interrupted by another even higher-pitched round of laughter. Momozo was quick to disprove Ritsu’s claim by turning back and squeezing one of the latter’s knees; he narrowly avoided being kicked while Ritsu’s torso leapt forward instinctively before falling back against the bed. His body had very nearly gone limp, as it did when worse spots were targeted.

Ah, right, he really didn’t have much of a tolerance to strong tickling. Momozo smirked.

“Not even that huh? Didn’t catch that.”

“OKAY OKAY OKAHAHAY IHI’M SORRY! TAKE! SHIHIHIT-”

The slip of the nickname went unnoticed by the laughing boy, and if Momozo’s chest fluttered just the tiniest bit, he ignored it. Instead, he opted for being nice enough to move from the bad spot, bringing his hands up to skitter his short nails over Ritsu’s stomach through his unfortunately thin long sleeve t-shirt.

Ritsu fell into a fit of incredibly bubbly and distinguishably not serious giggles, legs instinctively kicking as he shot his hands out to hold Momozo’s wrists now that the dam of laughter had already been broken. However, that was more so to steady himself than to really fight back, and both boys knew this; it was already too late for him to put up a fight, and he was definitely laughing too hard. Ritsu naturally refused to acknowledge this. Momozo, on the other hand…

“Stohohop looking ahat me like- like thahahat!”

“What’re you gonna do? Push my hands away?”

"Shuhut UHUHUP!"

"Hm, that was kind of rude." Momozo responded calmly as he casually massaged the small bit of pudge Ritsu always had on his tummy that he "definitely should have grown out of." Not that he had time to think about that currently, though, considering the endless waves of giggling laughter that made it hard for him to form any coherent sentences.

The brunette continued to attack his friend’s stomach with no signs of letting up any time soon; he switched unpredictably between squishing around the softer area and spidering his fingers, sneaking his hands just the tiniest bit under the end of Ritsu’s now rumpled up t-shirt to scribble over the spot just beneath the shorter boy’s navel. A spot that, without fail, always made him kick and hiccup-laugh like there was no tomorrow.

At this point, Ritsu's thoughts had turned into a sort of jumbled and mostly incoherent mess, which wasn't anything foreign to Momozo. Sometimes thoughts were less of… thoughts, and more so feelings. And the only intense feeling radiating off of Ritsu was 'It tickles it tickles it tickles so BAD-'

The ticklish shocks running through Ritsu’s body were the only thing he could focus on as he shook his head back and forth, feeling how his cheeks were burning up and how the butterflies in his stomach just refused to let up. It was like an unbearable but pleasant electricity coursing through his nerves, starting at his stomach and spreading through his body before all collecting at one point in his chest; the place where the uncontrollable laughter flowed freely from his mouth.

Despite his brain’s natural reactions to the sensations, Ritsu really didn’t mind the feeling. In all honesty, he quite enjoyed being tickled; it allowed for a certain sense of vulnerability he had always had a hard time showing, a way for him to feel comfortable enough to laugh and smile freely. Though his stamina could only last so long, especially as someone who isn’t fully used to being tickled.

The younger boy didn’t seem to notice at first that the ticklish sensations on his stomach had ceased, catching his breath as he let out the rest of his breathy titters.

After a moment, Ritsu glanced up and made eye contact with Momozo, who to anyone else would have seemed bored; but Ritsu wasn't anyone, and caught the small smile still resting on his lips, likely mirroring his own unconscious one. A smile he quickly tried to cover up by glaring daggers at the boy above him.

What he would've give to wipe that stupid smile away with-

"You good?" Momozo asked, thankfully cutting off wherever that train of thought was headed.

Ritsu broke the eye contact bashfully, needing to look at anything other than the stupid genuine expression on the boy leaning over him because that's embarrassing and this is embarrassing.

Speaking of embarrassing, he quickly pulled his hands away from around Momozo's wrists, opting to cross his arms instead and pretend he didn't look like a toddler pouting at the moment.

"Alright, solid answer."

"So are you going to get off of me now, or what?"

"Dunno." Momozo shrugged. Ritsu bristled.

"What do you mean you don't know??"

"Do you want me to?"

"...You're a jerk."

The brunette couldn't help but chuckle. While his boredom had most definitely been cured, he knew they were both having far too much fun to go back to focusing on homework anyway. Well, Ritsu probably could, 'Like the nerd he is.' Momozo noted to himself.

He was pulled away from those brief thoughts by Ritsu's suddenly much less flustered tone of voice (which definitely couldn't be good) as he asked,

"Hey Takenaka."

"...'Sup?"

Ritsu grinned.

"I'm bored."

In the moment it took the latter to realize what Ritsu was getting at, he was already too late.