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Ganke isn't surprised when the ratings continue to climb, but he is surprised by how fast they're going. Just four photos on Instagram got nine-hundred thousand likes within the last day. He nearly fainted at the sights of Twitter and Tiktok, the latter having fourteen point seven million likes. He nudges Miles softly, taps on his accounts- and as always he's beaming.
"You're the best, Ganke- really."
Ganke scratched the back of his head, his face a tad red. Those honey brown eyes of Miles were going to melt him one day.
Their moment was cut short at Miles abrupt turn to the window. Ganke didn't know what the hell was going on, but it couldn't be good if Miles was scrambling this fast to suit up.
Miles knew those footsteps, decievingly light and precise in their stride. He'd last heard them three years ago in Aunt May's living room. After that, Peter B had him detained by Doctor Strange underneath the city somewhere. That heavy whirring of his big metal arms, the little blinks and bolts of every single finger. The shing of his blade popping out, cracking of knucles- and the screams of a civilian who was just picked up.
"Damnit Scorpion!" He shouts, perching on their windowsill.
Ganke hands Miles his mask and left web shooter. "Please be careful Miles."
Miles squeezes his hand as if to say he'll be alright. He could see the lightbulb flick on in his head when asked
"Do you wanna come with me bro?"
"...You want me to fight?"
"Yeah bro, nah but forreal- record me from the window of one of them cars."
"Miles...you know I'm down."
Ganke opted not to swing with Miles. He could lie and say the main reason was motion sickness. The half truth was that the press would be all over him if Spiderman was carrying a civilian to the fight. The real reason? Spandex somehow left nothing and everything to the imagination.
Now he's on the train to Grand Central- where they always choose to fight for some reason. There are plenty of better spots to fight, like the park or an already abandoned lot. There are also better vehicles to pick up, like a car and not the fucking train. Scorpion's hoisted the train car in front of them over his shoulder, some people clutching their seats, some not giving a fuck at the inconvenience until they were swung off the track. Of course, Miles pulled the train down safely with little trouble, a few webs draping the windows. Ganke steadies his camera between wispy gaps, focusing on the next scene.
Scorpion's smirking to the left, his hands up and gesturing towards Miles. Miles got his hand on some maracas, shaking them on the right side of the street.
"¿Quieres bailar, pequeña araña?" Scorpion taunts, rattling his tail at Miles.
(You want to dance, little spider?)
Miles tosses the instruments away, extending his hand for a dance. He adjusts the fabric of his suit like a tie- for theatrics of course.
"¡Dos no discuten si uno no quiere, Scorpion!”
(It takes two to tango, Scorpion!)
Scorpion laughs, his mechanical legs jolting his metasoma towards Miles. "¡Jajajajaja! ¿Serás hombre o mujer?"
(Ha! Will you be the man or the woman?)
Miles smirks underneath his mask, certain the whole of New York can feel it. Scorpion's telson strikes at him, Miles stops it midway with webs, embedding the pincer in the wall of a nearby building. With his webs tangled in his fingers, mask nearly torn right off, he touts his face right in front of Scorpion's for his last remark.
"¡Seré el hombre y te haré mi perra!"
(I'll be the man and make you my bitch!")
Miles socks him with his right, cramming him into the crevice of the alleyway. Scorpion tosses the dumpster at Miles while climbing the wall- jumping down to pound him. He only got dust in his eyes and a crater in the concrete. Scorpion- looking for Miles no doubt- locks eyes on the train, the green lights of his armor twinkling and telling them to go- run as far as their feet can carry them but the door's jammed and Scorpion's bum-rushing their train car.
Okay, maybe their lives were more or less in danger now-- but there was a bit of a rasp in seré and haré and a lower growl on perra that Ganke would not let go of. He took refuge in not being the only one blushing at that line, a few of the girls on the train glanced at each other- giggling and covering their mouths or faces. One dude tucked some hair behind his ear.
"Now I'm not gay, but-"
Ganke put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "No dude same that was kinda hot."
"Right?! Like he can make me his perra if he keeps that up."
The little group screams as Scorpion's telson crashes through the window, feeling around for its target. Glass hurtles towards them, nicking Ganke's chin and forehead. Metal scraping together isn't worse than nails on a chalkboard- but with incessant scratching and your life in danger anything will come in as a close second. It also turns out that Scorpion remembered that stinger blade is detachable and Ganke just barely doged it- save for the thin red line forming on his cheek. He's gonna feel that later for sure.
Ganke didn't even blink and Scorpion's been flung back. He's sure he heard a nasty crunch when he hit the pavement, what he was unsure of was if it was bone or metal. Ganke got his answer when the villain tried to get up, his bulky armour was embedded into his shoulder with maroon blood spilling out.
Scorpion, down but not out- grabbed Miles' legs in one last retort. Hard.
Miles stuck it out and weaved his webs through mechanical fingers, prying his way out when they stopped moving. He shocks each of his legs until they were out of commission. Scorpion weakly kicked at Miles but there was no use, his webs were too strong, his legs short circuited. Miles even took one off of him for Ganke to study back in their dorm. Confiscated the tank of poison too, lord knows Aunt May would probably need to whip up an antidote for Peter B (not that he'd get stung back home- but he totally would get stung in this universe).
Ganke's ecstatic! His footage came out pretty clear-- save for that last little earthquake. He jolts as Miles kicks the train door in, leading them safely to the street.
Everyone's thanking his friend, asking for autographs and photos, and Ganke's about to end the stream when Miles scrambles over to him. The eyes on his mask shot into circles, his hands on his cheeks. He still can't feel his wounds yet but he can feel Miles' heart break through his hands.
"Shit, are you alright? Bro I am so sorry I should've-"
"-Dude it's okay."
The eyes of his suit softened, "It's my fault though, coulda' got y'all off earlier-"
"-Spiderman. I'm fine, we're fine."
Miles got the hint- letting Ganke end the stream. Not a second later Miles whipped through the city straight towards their dorm, Ganke closing the blinds the moment Miles threw off his mask.
He's already got the bandages out of the drawer in the bathroom. "Let me see your wounds."
"Nope. Mine are small."
Miles put the bandaids down. Ganke loved being right.
Ganke doesn't know what came over him, but apparently he was feeling brave, tugging at his suit. "Let me see yours."
Miles fidgets with the hem of his shirt, hesitating. He knows it's slick with blood, and it'll fight against the bruises. "I don't wanna take it off in front of you."
"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable-"
"-I'm not uncomfortable with you man" He goes behind the shower curtain to wrestle it off. "-I jus, uh- I just don't want you seein' the bruising."
"Miles, I can take it."
"Okay, let me explain it better." The faucet stutters out what sounds like cold water. "I don't want you to see me like this. Ion' want anyone seein' me like this, okay? Just a me thing, you ain't do nothin' wrong."
And neither did you Ganke wants to say. But he won't, Miles wouldn't hear that.
Ganke nods like Miles can still see him. "Alright, I'll go. Yell if you want me-"
Shit.
"-or need me."
Nicesave, stupid.
The door closing was louder than the commotion from earlier, which Miles didn't like since he could hear the mistakes he made pounding like rain in the back of his head (there really were none, but it felt like he'd made ten).
Miles was going to beat himself up over the scars on Ganke's face for the next month and there wasn't a damn thing Ganke could do about it. Ganke wasn't even mad at the cuts but Miles knew he could've died and it would've been all his damn fault. If Ganke hadn't dodged...he didn't even want to think about that, just be thankful he did.
The worst looking bruises cleared up in about thirty minutes. They still looked purplish-black, kinda hospital worthy, but not run back to his mom hospital worthy y'know? He'll give em' round three more hours.
Ganke doesn't say anything at Miles stroking each of his scars. His right forearm, a gash he got readjusting the camera for Twitch. His cheek, the one from the blade. The general nicks he stopped himself from touching, opting for the crook of his neck- his arms secure around his waist. He smelt sweetly of jasmine and poppies.
Miles just needed to feel that he was alive, that he was warm with his own two hands. He toys with Miles' curls since he couldn't and wouldn't fight Ganke about it this evening, faint citrus and Camille Rose lingered on his hand.
Ganke must've got injected at some point, since he absent-mindedly kissed the back of Miles hand while they sat in that chair. Miles returned the favor, a light peck on three of his fingers.
It's comfortable, he thinks.
But then it's crowded in his mind and Ganke prays to God Miles can't hear his eyes go wide or read minds at this point since he'd be hearing a lot of:
Wait did I ki- did he kiss mine ba-? Wait oh my God oh my God wait did I just? I can still feel his lips on my fingers so I certaintly did what the hell I think I did but- oh my fucking God? Ganke Lee are you on crack right now? Did you do heroin before streaming why'd you kiss his hand you dumbass? My lips were chapped, he deserves a do-over, something better than that oh God--
Please do it again though.
Miles rubs the back of his hand, debating whether to kiss it at the mere sound of his heart pounding away.
So he does so at sunset. The blinds slit the evening light into a gradient over the room, a ray of warm orange settling into the scar on Ganke's cheek. Miles takes Ganke's glasses off and Ganke leans back, finding Miles' grip a bit more relaxed than before.
They slept in the chair that night.