"We're leaving with or without you, Spider-Boy," Miles G. Morales announces, slipping on his jacket as his uncle, Aaron Davis, gathers his belongings, the rustling of papers and jangling of keys filling the apartment.
Meanwhile, Miles Morales, known as Spider-Man from Earth-1610, is in the midst of repairing his cracked eye lens from a recent encounter with a villain. His tongue sticks out from between his lips in concentration as he sits cross-legged on the ceiling, his "weird spider stickiness," as Miles G. likes to call it, keeping him firmly in place.
When Miles G. teases his vigilante alias, Miles huffs in annoyance, shooting his counterpart an exasperated glare.
"Man, I've already told you more than once that it's Spider-Man. You don't see me calling you Prowler Bo—" Miles starts, but his tangent is abruptly cut off by a snap of fingers and Aaron's less-than-amused expression as he stands by the doorway, balancing his motorcycle helmet between his fingers.
"We don't got all day, Miles," he warns, then turns his attention to his actual nephew, who walks past him to grab his own helmet from Aaron's coat rack. "Both of you need to let it go."
"I'm chillin'," Miles G. responds coolly, and 1610 Miles scoffs and rolls his eyes.
There's no actual tension between them—at least, not anymore.
Following the confrontation when he was knocked out and tied to Aaron's punching bag, they've come to a truce and alliance since then.
He recalls it vividly, as though it happened just yesterday; the moment of breaking free from the binds using his venom, having to convince Aaron and Miles G. that he wasn't a clone sent by Alchemax or Kingpin, and then teaming up with Gwen and the other arachnid allies as they left universe 42 to confront The Spot.
The aftermath wasn't pretty, but Miles managed to save his dad, and somehow, it helped 42 reclaim a part of himself that always felt inadequate because he couldn't save his own Jefferson Davis.
Then there was that awkward exchange with Miguel after the battle, who muttered something that sounded like a "sorry," followed by him sending 1610 Miles his own inter-dimensional watch, delivered by none other than Peter B. Parker and Jessica Drew. Not that Miles needed it, since he already had Hobie's makeshift watch, which worked just as well and had more personality in terms of style and design.
So, he ended up giving it to Miles G. as a token of gratitude for his help against The Spot.
Sometimes, when they're bored in their respective universes, they'll visit each other and spend time patrolling and taking down bad guys. Or in 1610 Miles's case, taking advantage of all the tech and gadgets that Miles 42 has lying around Aaron's apartment.
That's how he ended up in 42's universe this morning in the first place, wanting to find a more durable material for his eye lens that didn't shatter when it encountered brute force.
However, he arrived at a time when Aaron and Miles G. had already scheduled to leave and take care of business—adding a new hoverboard to their escapades. He wasn't originally going to come along until he realized he could use this opportunity to find someone with the specific material he's seeking for his eye lens. While Aaron and Miles G. would be traveling on Aaron's motorcycle, Miles was sent the address so he could meet them there, cutting down the time and distance with his web-slinging abilities.
Aaron explained that they were headed to a recently opened auto/pawn shop in downtown Brooklyn. He mentioned being familiar with the owner, with whom he had a long history. Miles G. didn't mind that 1610 was tagging along, and Miles was eager to check out the place and meet one of his uncle's past acquaintances. Even though Earth-42 Aaron wasn't his Aaron, they were still pretty similar. In Miles's eyes, they were technically the exact same person with minimal differences.
When Aaron and Miles G. arrive at the shop, they park in one of the available spaces before climbing off the motorcycle and removing their helmets. The shop, squeezed between two tall buildings, is relatively small. Its windows display various gadgets and items, such as old watches and video game consoles. An "Open" sign, with its store hours typed underneath, hangs on the glass door. A banner with the shop's name, Zaunite, and the slogan "Zaunite will get you right" lies on the ground, knocked over by the wind. Despite the sign mishap, the shop maintains its simplistic appearance, ready to welcome anyone looking for a convenient find.
Despite this, Miles G. wears a perplexed expression, squinting in doubt about their current location.
"Tío, you sure we're gonna find a board here?" he pauses at the door, hand clasped around the pull handle.
Aaron raises an eyebrow, unfazed by Miles G.'s hesitation. "Nah, man, we're not buying from the store. We're buying it from the owner himself. Benzo's an engineer," Aaron explains, slipping past both Miles and heading into the shop, a bell chiming above their heads.
"Technically we're engineers, too," Miles G. grumbles, following after his uncle. "What can he do that we can't?" he adds sourly.
Miles trails after them, his eyes wandering over the appliances and occasionally poking at a few interesting pieces.
"Well, for starters, he can get his hands on certain energy sources that would cost us thousands if we tried." When Miles G. opens his mouth to argue, Aaron cuts him off with a lazy wave of his hand. "You can't just steal nanotech, Miles. You've got to know somebody who knows somebody—and I happen to know somebody," he casually states.
Miles G. looks far from appeased; in fact, he seems even more annoyed than before.
As they continue to walk further into the store, Miles G. falls back in his footsteps so he could lower his voice and whisper conspiratorially to his counterpart. "How do we even know we can trust this guy? I mean, what if he hustles us? You know what I'm saying?" he casts a glance at Miles to make sure his double knows what he's saying.
Miles, unfortunately, doesn't know and frankly doesn't care, either; he personally trusts Aaron 42's judgment and doesn't think the older man would get himself involved with anyone who would cheat and scam him out.
Miles nods along anyways to avoid further angering his double. However, they're still the same person, which means Miles G. is more than aware that Miles isn't taking him seriously. This causes him to dramatically huff, turn away, shove his hands into his pockets, and speed walk a good enough distance to put between himself and his counterpart.
They make it to the front of the store, but no one's at the front desk. Aaron taps the bell beside the cash register, pausing between taps as if creating a pattern with the chimes. After a moment of silence, footsteps approach from the open doorway behind the register. A heavyset man appears, grinning at Aaron before noticing the twin boys with him.
"Aye, Davis! Been a while, ain't it?" he greets, then eyes the boys with a hint of doubt. "And you brought... your kids?"
Aaron shakes his head, calmly explaining they're his nephews.
"Nah, man, these are my nephews. Uh, Miles," he gestures towards 1610. "And Gonzalo," he sweeps his eyes briefly over Miles G.
"You've got to be kidding me," Miles G. grumbles under his breath, his eyes rolling so hard it's a wonder they don't pop out of his head, and his face reads that this conversation isn't over and he'll be hounding uncle Aaron about it later.
"I mean, it makes sense, right?" Miles murmurs to his double, attempting to be discreet.
"Eso pensarías," Miles G. rolls his eyes once more, pushing the limit to see if they'll actually roll out of his head.
"You two look about the same age as my boy, Ekko! Smart kid, that one. He's a real hustler 'round here, takin' care of the heavy lifting and shit like that. Been tellin' him he's got what it takes to make it big—long as he keeps grindin'. So, what's the deal, Davis? It's not often you ask for my help."
"Think you could hook us up with a hoverboard?" Aaron angles his head in Miles G.'s direction.
Benzo scratches his chin, contemplating. "Ah, a hoverboard, you say? Shouldn't be a problem. Ekko's got one of his own, ya know—he refuses to admit that since it hovers, it makes it a hoverboard. He's pretty fixed on calling it an omniboard, like the difference matters."
Miles G. immediately chimes in, echoing Ekko's sentiment. "I think this Ekko dude is right. A hoverboard is a kid's toy."
Aaron silently shakes his head.
"For the record, I agree," Miles adds, not wanting his double to stand alone in the argument.
Aaron also casts him a dubious look but refrains from saying much else.
"Young people these days and their semantics," Benzo dismisses the conversion with a wave of his hand before pulling away from the register and angling his head to call for Ekko.
"Ekko! Get in here!"
However, no one else shows up and the store remains empty except for the four of them, the buzzing sound of electronics and outside city noises the only background sounds that can be heard.
"He's somewhere 'round here—can't be too far. You're my best pal, Davis, so the first board is on me, but if you're doubling it, there's gonna be a charge. Ekko is most likely gonna use his pricier equipment to put these boards together and you know copping nanotech ain't easy. It's more of a—,"
"You know a guy who knows a guy situation," Aaron smoothly finishes for him.
"And you know that I know a guy. Which is why you're here and I'm more than honored to help you get these boards purchased and made within a week or so," Benzo adds with a firm clap of his hands.
"Hold on, a week?"
"Did you say a week?" Both Miles speak up simultaneously, equally shocked.
"Now you see why I came here?" Aaron says, slightly smug.
"Sure did say a week. Don't underestimate Ekko and I. This is what we do," Benzo shrugs.
Miles G. can't help but admit to himself that assembling the board would have been a monumental task, potentially taking months or even years. Gathering the necessary materials for such advanced technology would involve risky endeavors like breaking into labs and hijacking industries working on nanotech. Salvaging scraps from junkyards and old machinery wouldn't have matched the potential of modern materials, only prolonging the process and draining their resources. He understands why his uncle chose to seek help from a trusted contact instead.
With a sense of relief, Miles G. steps back from the conversation, hands in his pockets, while 1610 absentmindedly follows along, lost in thought.
What else do they sell here?
As Aaron and Benzo continue to talk, Miles and Miles G. check out the store until the sound of a bell from the entrance catches their attention.
Well, it catches Miles's more than Miles G.'s, who grabs a laser blast and aims it at the ceiling tiles with one eye shut, pretending to shoot. As he walks, his eyes trained above him, he bumps into a figure carrying a stack of boxes and accidentally pulls the trigger of the blast—which he hadn't expected to be loaded—and physically flinches as a surge of light zips through it, leaving a scorch mark on the ceiling's surface.
The store goes dead silent, with Benzo looking unamused and Aaron looking even more disappointed beside him. Sheepishly, Miles G. lowers the laser blast and prepares to apologize to the person he bumped into.
"Whoops. My—," he starts until the stack of boxes lower to reveal dark skin and blonde dreadlocks.
"...bad," he finishes lamely, his eyes widening at the sight of the newcomer.
"No worries. These boxes—," the boy begins, attempting to steady them, until Miles G. leans forward to take two stacks, lightening the load.
"I can help you with those," he offers, his heart thudding in his chest.
"Thanks, man. They're not even mine. They're for my old man, Benzo," the boy explains, turning to shout towards the front of the store. "Yo, Benzo! This week's inventory came in!"
Benzo nods, acknowledging the boxes in Ekko and Miles G.'s arms. "Just bring 'em to the back," he instructs, gesturing toward the rear of the store.
"So, you're Ekko?" 1610 Miles inquires, and it seems as if Ekko is noticing him for the first time, taking in his suit and the mask between his fingers with inquisitive eyes.
"Yeah, 'sup. Who're you?" and what's with the get-up? Goes unsaid since Ekko is still eyeballing Miles's Spider-Man suit.
"Oh, uh, I'm Miles Morales! And this, uh..." he trails off, half gesturing to his suit.
Meanwhile, Miles G. resists the urge to facepalm at his counterpart's awkwardness.
"He just got back from Comic-Con—he's supposed to be one of those heroes he be reading about. What was it, Spider-Boy or somethin' like that?" Miles G. fills in, but it's not exactly what his double wants to hear, who shoots him a glare and rolls his eyes.
"It's Spider-Man, you know this already so stop playing dumb, Pr—!" Miles tries to retort but is cut off by Miles G. clapping a hand over his mouth, the boxes in his arm nearly toppling over in his haste to do so.
"¿Estás loco? Él no puede saber que soy el Prowler." Miles G. hisses, eyes narrowed, his hand still covering his double's mouth. Ekko watches their interaction, slightly impatient as he'd like to set the boxes down in the storage room, but he can't help but be amused by the twins' dynamic.
Miles pulls away from Miles G., wiping at his mouth.
"¡Entonces, deja de calling me Spider-Boy!" Miles complains, crossing his arms.
Ekko continues to look between them before letting out a soft laugh and shaking his head, maneuvering past the bickering duo.
"I'm just gonna—" he gestures to the doorway behind the register and Miles G. turns away from his double to see Ekko walking away before hurriedly following after the blonde.
They round the counter where Benzo is still chatting with Aaron and head into the hallway behind him that leads to a door with a red sign that says "Storage Room." Upon entering, there are stacked boxes everywhere, some open and others taped shut, with various knickknacks and merchandise strewn across the small room. Ekko sets the two boxes down, with Miles G. doing the same. 1610 Miles disappears behind a stack of boxes, presumably to poke around, led by curiosity.
Miles G. feels the sudden urge to speak up, realizing he hasn't properly introduced himself, yet. There's the tricky matter of using his middle name, no thanks to uncle Aaron. He'd rather Ekko know him as Miles, not Gonzalo. But using his first name might just stir confusion or suspicion. As Ekko retrieves a box cutter from his pocket to open the packages, Miles G. decides to break the silence, despite the nervous fluttering in his chest and the clamminess of his palms.
Jeez, why is he so nervous anyways?
"Um, by the way, I'm Gonzalo," he interjects, extending a hand, which Ekko leans in to shake.
His grip is firm and slightly calloused, a testament to physical labor, sending a tingling sensation up Miles G.'s spine. He resists the urge to withdraw his hand as if it were burned.
"Cool. I've seen Davis once or twice, but I had no idea he had kids," Ekko remarks, crouching to pry at the box's tape.
"Oh, we're not his kids. He's our uncle," Miles G. clarifies, shifting uncomfortably. It's always awkward having to clarify that Aaron isn't his dad but his dad's brother.
"Ah, got it," Ekko grunts, forcing the box open to inspect its contents. "So, what brings you guys here?" he asks, dipping his hand into the box and pulling out what appears to be a steel pipe.
"Uncle Aaron mentioned you could hook us up with two omniboards within a week," Miles G. replies.
Finally, Ekko's focus shifts from the packages to Miles G., a wry smirk forming on his lips—a sight that makes Miles G.'s ears feel warmer than usual.
"You call it an omniboard too? I knew I wasn't alone on that," Ekko says, his tone conspiratorial. "Benzo just doesn't get it—'hoverboard' sounds too childish to me."
Miles G. straightens his shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant, despite feeling a sense of satisfaction that they share the same viewpoint, even though he knew Ekko's stance on the matter already.
"Exactly," he agrees, his voice cracking momentarily. He ignores it. "Hoverboards are for kids. Even uncle Aaron doesn't see it," he adds.
"They're old," Ekko scoffs, rolling his eyes, a playful smile dancing on his lips, captivating Miles G.'s attention. "But Benzo was right about one thing. We can definitely get you those omniboards in a week. I actually built my own board once; haven't done another since, but I've got the blueprints and manuals from my first build. Surprisingly, it doesn't need as much material as you'd think—the key is the generators. What power source are you thinking? Electricity, bio-energy, solar power, magnetism?" Ekko lists off options, lowering a finger for each as he speaks.
"Uncle Aaron might want his board to run on magnetism, but I'm leaning towards bio-energy for mine," Miles G. explains. "It's more versatile and cost-effective."
"My board's fueled by bio-energy too, and I'm with you on that," Ekko agrees, and soon the boxes are abandoned as they delve into the intricacies of generators and energy sources for boards, with a side conversation of "did you know you can actively reduce your carbon footprint with certain carbon-negative properties?"
Unaware of Miles's observation, they continue their discussion, with Miles focusing more on Miles G.'s reactions than on Ekko himself.
Miles G. seems a bit nervous, stumbling over his words occasionally (which isn't typical for him), gesturing with his hands as he grows more excited about the topic. The closer he gets to Ekko, who stands opposite him, the more animated their conversation becomes. Both of them are visibly enthusiastic as they geek out about the boards, and Miles finds himself intrigued by Miles G.'s behavior.
They're alike in many ways, but not entirely identical, leaving Miles to speculate about how Miles G. might behave around someone he likes.
After all, that's what this is, isn't it?
So far, 1610's current theory is that Miles G. might have a bit of a crush on Ekko, aiming to impress him with his knowledge of physics and quantum theory. Miles can't recall ever seeing Miles G. act like this around anyone else, but he can't blame his doppelgänger.
Ekko is undeniably attractive, with smooth dark skin, stylishly done dreads, and well-defined arms that hint at his craftsmanship, despite his lean build.
Miles understands where Miles G. is coming from. Honestly. However, there's also a chance that Miles G.'s behavior is simply admiration for Ekko's coolness, much like how Miles felt when he first met Hobie Brown.
Regardless, Miles has noticed an obvious change in his counterpart's demeanor, prompting him to discreetly look on from the sidelines, feigning interest in a radio antenna.
"You're welcome to drop by and help me build it once all the parts arrive—maybe we can even do some upgrades," Ekko suggests, catching Miles G. off guard with the offer.
He hadn't anticipated being invited over to collaborate on the omniboard, especially using Ekko's own materials, but deep down, he's thrilled at the chance to be involved and not just a mere customer. Plus, the opportunity to work alongside Ekko and hang out with him is too good to pass up.
"Sure, man, I'm down. Sounds cool," he says, clearing his throat in an attempt to sound casual.
"Yeah, cool..." Ekko smiles briefly before glancing at 1610 Miles, remembering they're not alone. "You're welcome to join us too," he adds with a nod.
Miles prepares to decline, ready to conjure up a convincing excuse to explain his absence when Miles G. inevitably drops by.
"Oh, can't. I've got school," he considers, but then realizes Miles G. also attends school.
"Oh, can't. I've got Comic-Con," he contemplates, but dismisses it, sensing it might come off as too nerdy.
Instead, he goes for, "Oh, uh, this kind of stuff is more Gonzalo's thing—I'm more into practical stuff," he gestures towards the cracked lens in his mask. "I do repairs for my suit and things like that, that's more my speed."
Ekko nods understandingly before turning his attention to Miles G., noticing his purple and white Jordans this time.
"Those are dope kicks. When did they drop that style?" Ekko comments, causing Miles G. to glance down at his shoes. Miles notices a flush of embarrassment coloring his counterpart's ears, and he swears they’re turning tomato red.
"Oh, these? They were originally red and white; I painted over 'em," Miles G. explains, triggering Ekko's eyes to light up even brighter than before, his smile revealing all of his teeth.
"So, you're an artist then?" Ekko inquires.
"I mean—well, it depends on what you mean by artist," Miles G. stutters, rubbing the back of his neck, his braids shifting slightly.
"You know, like a creative. You like to think outside of the box—I dig that," Ekko responds.
"Uh, you do?" Miles G. replies awkwardly, withdrawing his hand from his neck and shoving it into his pocket.
He's visibly fidgety and embarrassed, and Miles can't help but anticipate teasing him about it later just to get a reaction.
"Yeah, I do," Ekko confirms, leaving Miles unsure if he's flirting.
While Ekko appears friendly and cool, Miles notices the distinct level of interest he shows towards Miles G. compared to himself. He's not bothered by it, but he wants to ensure he's interpreting their interaction correctly.
“I like your jacket,” Miles G. blurts out, seemingly on impulse, and Miles notices a sheen of sweat on his double’s forehead.
He can count the beads of sweat forming—two… four… six… a total of eight.
Wow, he must be really nervous.
Miles refrains from intervening, thoroughly entertained by the scene unfolding before him.
It's like he's not even there with the way they're looking at each other—though it's mostly Ekko staring at Miles G., studying his features as if trying to commit them to memory, while Miles G. seems to avoid direct eye contact.
Just as Ekko is about to respond to Miles G.'s compliment, the door to the storage room swings open, and Benzo and Aaron enter, filling up the already cramped space. Miles ends up sitting on a taped box to make room for everyone else.
"I was checking to see if you guys were ready to go. I already put my order in for us, and they're gonna get started on measurements soon," Aaron briefs, and Miles G. nods in understanding until Ekko speaks up.
"Gonzalo mentioned you might want your board to run on magnetism. Never made an omniboard like that before, but it doesn't mean it can't be done. His might get finished quicker since I've worked with bio-energy omniboards, plus he said he's gonna lend me a hand," Ekko explains. Uncle Aaron shrugs, his hands remaining in his pockets.
"Sounds good to me. I'll swing by tomorrow morning for the invoice. I don't mind bringing him here and dropping him off so you guys could work on the boards," Aaron agrees.
As they get ready to leave, Miles bids farewell to Benzo and Ekko while making his way to the front of the store with Aaron and Miles G.
Benzo and Ekko stay put at the cash register, with Ekko counting the cash from the previous day.
Suddenly, Miles G. stops in his tracks and locks eyes with Miles. There's a certain expression in his gaze, one that Miles recognizes all too well—it's a look that says, "I'm about to do something bold."
Miles doesn't utter another word; he simply places a hand on Miles G.'s shoulder and nods. It's all the encouragement his counterpart needs, as he pulls away from Miles and heads back to the register where Ekko is still counting money, while Benzo has already disappeared into the back hallway. Aaron notices his nephew's absence as he closes the door behind him and 1610.
"Where's he—" Aaron begins in a questioning tone, but 1610 simply shakes his head and reassures him, "He'll be back. Just had to use the restroom."
Aaron raises an eyebrow, aware that the store has no restroom, but he doesn't press further. Instead, he walks to his motorcycle and straps on his helmet.
"Oh, hey. Did you leave something?" Ekko looks up from the register to acknowledge Miles G.'s presence.
Miles G. stands there awkwardly, his eyes shifting nervously, silently hoping that Benzo won't return from the storage room to witness his embarrassment. He wants to say something cool like, "Yeah, I left your phone number," but his mouth isn't cooperating and his heart is pounding so fast that it hurts. Instead, he settles for a mumbled, "No, I mean, yeah—was just wondering if you wanted to keep in touch. So, you know, I could know which days to swing by and stuff."
“Great job, Miles,” he thinks sarcastically, choosing to ignore the critical voice in his head and instead focusing on the conversation with Ekko.
"Sure, what's your number?" Ekko asks, already reaching into his pocket for his cellphone, and Miles G. feels a surge of self-consciousness because he hadn't expected to get this far.
They swap numbers, and Miles G. hesitates for a moment before saving his name as "Gonzalo" in Ekko's contacts, deciding that it's a conversation for another day. There's plenty of time for them to grow closer and get to know each other before Miles G. reveals that 1610 isn't his actual twin brother, but a variant of himself from another reality. As he hands back Ekko's phone, his blood thrumming and adrenaline pumping, Miles G. knows he has to say one last thing—something clear enough for him and Ekko to comprehend where they stand without making things too awkward. He has to make it quick because Benzo could return any minute, and Miles G. doesn't want him witnessing any of this.
Ekko goes back to counting cash but keeps an eye on Miles G., silently wondering why he's still there and if there's anything else he could help with.
“Just go for it, Miles,” he encourages himself.
In a brief, strange moment, he wonders, “What would 1610 Miles do?”
The shock of that thought makes him realize he's growing a bit desperate.
In the midst of his anxiety, Ekko finally asks the dreaded question. "Um, are you okay? Is there anything else you need?" His eyes are slightly wide with concern, and all Miles G. can think is, “How can someone's eyes be so brown?”
They resemble dark cocoa powder… but he quickly dismisses the thought, realizing it's not the time for such observations.
Miles G. releases a dry cough due to his nerves, then tugs at his collar as the room suddenly feels stiflingly hot. His mind urges him to back out, suggesting it's best to keep Ekko as just a friend and nothing more—Miles G. has never been one for relationships anyway. He's not kind enough, too distant and closed off, and what will he do when he can no longer hide his identity as the Prowler? Maybe it's best to keep Ekko at arm's length and only see him as someone who will help build his board. Sure, he's attractive and nice, and they share many interests, but—
"Hellooo," Ekko waves a hand in his face. "Earth to Gonzalo. You're kinda worrying me over here," Ekko says, pulling away and tilting his head slightly to the side. The action alone sends Miles G.'s heartbeat into a frenzy, and he realizes he's oh, so screwed.
There's the sound of a door slamming shut in the hallway, and out of panic, the words force themselves out of Miles G.'s throat before he can even process what he's saying.
"Listen, I think you're really cool, and I'd like to get to know you better. You know, outside of this omniboard stuff. Maybe after the week is over—we can, like, hang out or something," he says, internally cringing at his phrasing, while outwardly his face remains perpetually stuck in fear, unable to reveal just how embarrassed and awkward he feels.
However, Ekko's reaction is somewhat unexpected because he doesn't seem put off by Miles G.'s behavior at all. "I mean, sure, that sounds cool," Ekko shrugs easily, and Miles G. wishes deep down he could be as smooth and easygoing as him.
"For reference, I like chocolate ice cream. Figured it would be a good first date idea," Ekko adds hesitantly, the first time since they've met that he's ever seemed unsure about his words.
"Oh, uh, I like chocolate ice cream, too! But, I'm more of a rocky road guy," Miles G. says, and Ekko grins in return. Benzo rounds the corner, muttering to himself, and Miles G. takes it as his cue to leave.
"So, ice cream, right? I'll make sure to keep that in mind," he quickly adds while walking backward, unable to look away from Ekko's smile.
"Yeah, maybe I’ll give that rocky road a try," Ekko responds, and Benzo looks between them with a curious expression before returning to his own tasks.
When Miles G. steps back outside, 1610 Miles is waiting for him a few feet away from Aaron's motorcycle.
"So, how'd it go?" 1610's mask is back on, but it's positioned haphazardly, revealing his lips and teasing smirk, with the damaged eye lens still visible. Miles G. mentally plans to find new ways to fix it on the ride back home.
"Got his number," Miles G. says, flashing a quick smile, but he has to physically move to quiet his double from cheering too loudly on his behalf.
"Come on, man, Uncle Aaron's right there," he complains, but 1610's excitement remains evident as he steps away from Miles G. and prepares to deploy his webs to swing back to Aaron's apartment.
"Aye, you've gotta tell me all about it when we get back to your place," 1610 reminds him in a playfully stern voice.
"You got it, Spider-Boy," Miles G. responds before quickly darting for the rear of Aaron's motorcycle seat to avoid getting webbed.