cable (1)
The trio blinks themselves awake, Gwen cocooned in a blanket with Ganke's scarf around her neck (how did it get off the coat rack?). Ganke and Miles were sprawled about, arms under backs, legs under legs. How they got in such a position, no one knows. None of them heard the footsteps approaching but Gwen certainly felt it. She locks the door, trying to doze back off.
"Miles? Miles Gonzalo Morales? Si no abres esa maldita puerta-"
"-Lo siento Mami!" Miles was up in a matter of seconds.
"Teenagers." She huffs, "What do you guys want for breakfast?"
It's a rare weekend where the both of them don't have work, and Miles takes full advantage of it, asking for two pans of revoltillo and the last of the pegao from yesterday. Mallorca sat in the middle of the table, Ganke and Jeff fighting for the biggest rolls on the plate. Gwen and Miles split a pan of the eggs, Rio watching in both admiration and horror as they finish it in record time.
"Where do they put all of that?" Jeff whispers into his coffee.
"I don't know, but I'm happy it goes somewhere." Rio laughs, that gleam in her eyes as the two move onto the pegao. No regular person can eat all that.
Ganke debates telling the two to slow down, or rather- stop exposing themselves. They start towards the bread, two each. Rio realizes she might have to stage an intervention- then Ganke puts a hand around Miles' wrist. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to. Jeff wheezes into his hand, a hearty laugh coming from his chest. Rio tries not to laugh too, burying her face in her husband's back.
Miles didn't put the bread down either, just gave Ganke half and kept going.
Breakfast winds down, Miles and Gwen start on the dishes, Ganke working on the coffee maker. Jeff turns to the morning news and gawks in disbelief.
"Miles!"
"...Yeah?"
"You let Spiderman use your room for an interview?"
"Yeah. That's why the door was locked yesterday."
Gwen puts her face in her hands and Miles rubbed his nose, covering his laugh.
"He don't got a clue in the fuckin' world." Ganke pipes in from their left. Gwen's on the verge of tears from laughing. It's getting ridiculous.
"Should we tell them?" Miles asks.
Gwen dries the last dish and realizes that Miles is wearing his suit-gloves as dish gloves too.
"Do you use them every time you wash the dishes?" Her voice is strained. Miles can barely get the nod out, Ganke banging softly on the counter.
"Oh my God we gotta tell them Miles please-"
"-Ganke we- we can't."
Jeff rewinds the TV and pauses. "Ain't that that mystery boy's scarf from last week?" Ganke's a little proud they remembered that- but also this has gone on long enough.
"Dad- dad we gotta tell you somethin'."
"Wait a minute Miles. Rio, that sound like Gwen don't it?"
"Jeff that is not Gwen, she sounds about two tones deeper than her."
"That is that little white girl in our kitchen washing our dishes- sorry Gwen!"
The three pile into Miles' room before they nearly pass out from holding their laughs in. As they bid Gwen goodbye they sober up, clearing their throats. They definitely shouldn't tell them.
"Damn we haven't really posted anything." Ganke looks at the sad six tiles on their page, from various clips and stills. The editors were doing their job for them and they simply could not let it slide.
"On where? Tik-Tok? Yeah."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to be roped into doing a thirst trap, cause- you gigglin cause' that was exactly your plan."
"It waha- it was not! I just wanted to..." Miles gives him the look. That look you know when somebody's about to tell you some bullshit from the deepest part of their soul. The one where you can hear the gears in their head turn before they open their mouth. Ganke's brain was about to combust like a Mac running the Sims 4, you could practically smell the smoke in the air.
"I just wanted to reveal your ethnic background in a nonconventional way."
"Just say you wanna see me strip."
"Yeah, yeah I do." Ganke winks.
"God..." Miles chuckles, cursing the amount of views this would make them. "Fine."
"Yes! Get the oil baby we're lubing you up-"
"Nigga we're what?"
Miles launched his head towards Ganke, who's cackling as he heads towards the bathroom. He's back with the oil swiftly, Miles laid back on the bed as Ganke's hands grazed over him. Ganke giggled as he processed the absurdity of their situation, stopping midway down his abs because why did he agree to this?
"Let's- let's not do this." Ganke wheezes afterwards, to which Miles grabs his mask and starts recording.
"No, no, no you did not rub body oil all over me like a damn turkey to chicken out now!"
Those five seconds were more than enough, plenty for the world even. After than Miles wipes himself down with Ganke's spare shirt because really, what was the plan here?
Miles' Dad stood in the doorway confused but laughing nonetheless. Thank God he had jeans on, else this would've ended up exactly like the morning Gwen came over.
"Ganke, were you planning to fry my son?" Jeff sputters, Ganke clutching the bottle by its cap.
Miles turns back, throwing the shirt at his man. "Yes, yes he was."
"...You know what, alright. Just wanted to check on y'all. Imma leave you to whatever the hell this is."
"Right, thanks Dad." Surprisingly, none of that conversation was awkward.
With that he closes the door, and they just cackle into the open air- a good time cut short by an alert on Ganke's phone.
Miles sighs, pulling his suit back down and shoes on. There's no time for the full suit when Doc Ock and Scorpion make their way down the block. Except their routine is broken when Scorpion's tail- its reach extended by Doc Ock's signature tentacle- swipes at them through the window. Glass flies, cutting Ganke's cheek- Miles' forearm dripping blood down Ganke's chest where his throat would've been.
"Miles- you alright?"
He didn't say a word, but Ganke saw the blue glint in Miles' eyes before he sprang headfirst out the window. Ganke didn't bother recording this one this time, because whatever the hell he would get, he knew one thing for certain: it was getting flagged for graphic violence.