and they were roommates
It was a surprise to see Hobie hanging around your neighbourhood, especially at an abandoned building. "Just waitin' for a mate." He'd say, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly and brushing off his leather jacket adorned with pins. You'd only stared at him before walking back to your home.
The cycle repeated with little variations, finding him inside the house at one point, and eventually you'd ask about how things were going after high school. He only pull a devious smirk, look at himself and the house, then say "Ain't it obvious?", then fall silent. It was only when you invited him over did he talk more, specifically about how he was now. "You know me. 'M fighting the good fight." "Just like old times, huh?" Hobie let out an undignified snort at that, something you've come to adore. You spent more time talking to Hobie, finding out more about him and more about his plans in the near future that consisted of giving London the freedom it deserved.
"Where do you live? I can drop you off, if you want." "I dunno. Don't gotta gaff." Hobie replied, sniffling. It was obvious he wasn't ashamed about admitting that, his legs taking space on your coffee table without a care in the world as he leaned on a pillow on your couch. "Maybe you can stay with me? It'll kinda be like when we were in high school." "Stay here? Stop pullin' my bloody leg." "I'm not! Swear on my mum. You can stay for as long as you'd like, as long as you don't get utterly pissed." He looked at you for a moment, his carefree smile never leaving his face even as he considered your offer with great hesitancy, before shrugging and leaning further into your couch. "That'd be mint, mate."
The only times you saw Hobie was when you stayed up far too late, seeing him on the couch with a vacant stare. "'M fine." He'd say, giving a dismissive wave as he turns with a wince. Nothing ever came out of these encounters except dismissive waves and grunts you could tell were from pain.
"Hobie! Jesus fuck, you look like you took a lickin'." "Yeah, thanks." Hobie huffed, immediately sitting on your couch and staining it with deep red. He couldn't keep his hands off his wound, looking away from you as he messed with it. "Knock it off. I'll get some bandages, yeah?"
"Oh, mate. How did alla this happen, and what the bloody hell is even that? What the hell were you doin' out so late with this on, anyway?" "I was out there for that long 'cause 'm Spider-Man. Some random sloshed bloke thought it'd be wicked to ching me, too." Hobie spoke with little interest, staring down at his suit that had a hole in it. You only focused on helping him with the wound, feeling a bit flushed when you touched skin around it. Once you were done, he took the time to stretch and put a lenient arm around your shoulder, pulling you near him. "I'm proper knackered. See you tomorrow, yeah?"
You didn't see him today. The only time you did was on the couch with fresh wounds and cuts on his suit. You didn't even bother to contemplate waking him up, seeing him rise in the corner of your eye as you made your way to the fridge. "Headin' out, mate." "Be safe." You muttered, missing the way he rolled his eyes and strutted towards you. He hugged you with the same intensity you remembered from high school, making you melt in his arms and let out a small sigh before he let you go.
It continued like this for some time. Hobie would leave, claiming it was for 'a good cause', give you a hug, then be on his way adorning his suit. "I never get to see him anymore." You'd complain to Gwen. "Not since he joined that barmy Spider-Society. No offense to you or Pavitr!" "Oh, uh..none taken. I..I get it. It's always so awkward to see him then realize he hasn't talked to you in, like.." Gwen goes quiet as she starts counting on her fingers, putting them in her lap when she finds herself unable to properly count it. "I know. So bloody frusteratin'! We haven't seen each other since fuckin' high school then it's just..this!"
"Hobie." "'Sup, mate. 'M a bit busy, we'll talk later, yeah?" He gives a quick look in your direction, foot already out the window before you tug him back. "[Y/N]-" Hobie turns to you, his face softening once he notices just how gutted you look. "I'm so tired of watching you just..leave all the time!" "You can join me?" "No!" He raises a brow at your tone, but keeps quiet, eyes still focused on you. "It's been months since we properly talked. You keep brushin' me off like I'm some bloody twit! It just makes me so miffed to only see you when you're knackered and laying on my couch! It hurts even more that Pav and Gwendy come around more than you do!" You take in a breath, feeling your ears start to become warm. "You're just.. I wish you gave me more time, give us more time. It's like we're not even best friends! The only time we actually talked was in January, fuckin' JANUARY! It's June now, Hobie! God, I love you so much and I just wish you took time out of your bloody day to just say hi to me or just hang out with me or-" Hobie watches as you get choked up, a frown on your face and you slightly tremble in anger. "Mate, mate." He tries to reassure you, holding you close to his bandaged chest. "It's alrigh'. Ain't gonna abandon you no more, yeah? I..like you, too. You've been my best mate before anyone else, and my schedule ain't gonna change that."