"What do you think you're doing?" A deep voice startled Peter Parker, the spandex-clad male almost dropped his phone.
Peter investigated the source of the voice through the tinted lenses of his suit, a police officer -possibly in his mid to late thirties, cuffs and his gun attached to his belt, surprisingly handsome- stood looking at him expectantly with his hands on his hips. Peter coughed awkwardly and tried to shuffle to the right, trying and failing to cover up the artwork he had graffitied onto a random wall.
"... Drugs."
"Funny. Get over here now."
"I don't usually like my men so bold, take me to dinner first, geez."
The officer's stone expression did not shift, if Peter didn't have unnatural abilities that allowed him to see ten times better than the average human, he would have missed how the sides of the officer's lip quirked upwards.
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be-" Peter snorted. "-I need to take you into custody."
"Wait, what? Nuh-uh." Peter grabbed his backpack, it contained all his spray paints and school equipment. "I'm sorry, okay. Is that good? Can I go?"
"I'm afraid not, I need you to step over here."
"Officer-" Peter glanced at his name card, "-Matthews. Officer Matthews, I'm sorry really but I have stuff to do! Crime fighting, babe saving, etcetera. Can't you just lay off this time?"
Officer Matthews clicked his tongue as he undid his cuffs from his belt. He took the shorter masked man and patted him down for any weapons; he started to repeat the Miranda Rights as was the law.
"Come on, officer," The spandex-clad man whined as he was pushed onto the hood of a cop car.
The police officer clicked the pair of steel cuffs around the younger man's wrists, "You've already had a warning when it comes to your graffiti, you were told that if you were caught doing it again, you would be facing charges."
The masked vigilante yelped as he was pulled to his feet with surprising strength, "Wow, and I thought we lived in a free country. You just can't handle my artistic expression! Damn, you're strong."
The officer ignored that last comment, "It's vandalism. End of. Don't whine too much, you'll probably just have to pay a fine." He guided Spider-Man to the side of his car, opening the door for the cuffed man.
"In this economy?" Spider-Man asked with an incredulous tone, "Do you think I get paid to do this?"
"You know how I told you that you have the right to remain silent?"
"Yeah?"
"Exercise that right." The officer pushed the lanky man into the car, ignoring his protests and not-so-subtle attempts at flirtation, he closed the door behind the man. The officer walked around and sat in the driver's seat, sighing as he ran a hand down his face.
"Hey, man. You look way too handsome to be that tired. Wait, how old are you? Definitely bee-keeping age. Are you single-" The window between the front and the back seats slid shut with a slam.