Chapter Text
On Earth 1610, Brooklyn, New York, U.S.
Miles was spending the cozy day in the room, sketching silly random drawings in his sizable art book and enjoying humming the music through his headphones. The heavy rainy weather outside made for the perfect atmosphere.
His parents were both out for the day. Jefferson was on patrol duty, ensuring the safety of Brooklyn, while Rio was tending to the sick and injured at the hospital. The teenager had the apartment all to himself.
Before, the art book's blank pages would often hinder Miles' creativity and cause an art block as he prioritized studying and improving his grades, particularly in Spanish class.
While on the other side of his duty life as Spider-Man, he protects and cleanses up the neighborhood from the criminal mess made by the villains. However, today he feels motivated, and all the ideas he's been collecting for some time are flowing freely.
Miles has been pondering the meaning of being a Spider-Man ever since he, along with a million Spider-People from alternate universes, prevented the Spot from destroying the Multiverse.
With a new perspective, he contemplates how it all came to be, the decisions he made, and how they may be changed by anyone else to save not only their loved ones but also themselves from the canon event.
The teenager felt so grateful that he had people, such as his parents and friends, who wholeheartedly loved and cared for him during his daring escapades across the universe.
He had met old and new allies, and their unwavering support filled him with appreciation. Expressing gratitude and honoring them in his own way, plans to draw them in various styles for today.
As the youngest starts to draw, memories flood his mind. He begins with a sketch of Gwen playing the drums with so much energy, putting an outline of pink, blue, and bold yellow, followed by one of Peter holding tenderness over his daughter Mayday with warm colors around them.
These two are the perfect images of their new versions of themselves. Miles could feel their joy through the paper.
After seeing Gwen being happy with finally reunited and reconciled with her father, being more open and starting to get new friends in her world, and Peter reconnecting with Mary Jane, now they had their baby girl with so much love from her both parents, it's a beautiful happy ending that he feels proud to have contributed to. It's a magical effect, and he knows it's all thanks to his help.
Next, he proceeds to draw Spider-Noir, Peni, and Spider-Ham sitting together, engrossed in a game of cards. These three always hold a special place in his heart, much like the previous two.
And then, Miles creates a quick rough sketch of Hobie rocking out on his powerful guitar during an epic concert. The audience shows their enthusiasm with rock-on-hand signs. He also sketches Pavitr enjoying a calm and pleasant chai time with his wonderful girlfriend Gayatri and her father, the police captain. Last but not really, Miles drew Jess sitting in a hospital bed, tenderly holding and kissing her newborn baby's little head.
Although the boy should have taken a break and rested his hand, he continued to draw more and more Spider-People that he found fascinating after his first visit to the Spider Society.
His sketches included Lego Spider-Man talking with conforming a sad Spider-Scarlet on his shoulder, Spider-Cat playing with Spider-Rex in a park, Margo and Lyla sharing pictures of fashion clothes and unique hairstyles, Web-Slinger reading the newspaper while riding his horse, Widow, and three weird-looking Spider-Men who were pointing at each other fingers, writing with each bubble on them saying "You? Me? No, YOU!"
Miles found it very enjoyable to spend his free time doing something he was always passionate about. He appreciated the opportunity to draw various people with different shapes, forms, and including styles instead of repeatedly drawing Gwen.
Oh, and about that, it appears that there was some problem in Miles and Gwen's relationship that caused it to almost fall apart. Miles is still grappling with the idea of love and is unsure of his true feelings for her. Whether it's a deep, romantic love or admiration and respect for the blonde girl.
And Miles had not shown any desire to have romantic feelings for anybody after that.
Despite these uncertainties, the two teens have managed to maintain a strong friendship, always having each other's backs, visiting each other's universe, along with Hobie and Pavitr on a few occasions too, sometimes with his roommate Ganke if they all hang out in his universe, and having fun times in their lives altogether.
Focusing once again on the Spider-People, every single one he encountered was nothing short of amazing, spectacular, and unique individual heroes. Even though they were in hot pursuit of him, attempting to prevent his escape and return to his dimension before it was too late, he couldn't blame them for doing what they thought was right.
All he wanted was to rescue his father from unfaithful death. At the end of the day, he is relieved that his dad is still alive and the Multiverse calmed down and has returned to normal.
After hours of non-stop sketching, he was about to finish the pages, which he was surprised by. Now Miles needed one more person to draw, so he could finally rest his poor hand and call it a day. The problem is he couldn't think of anyone else he should draw next.
So the boy reviewed the pages again, looking at each person he drew, trying to remember which was missing.
And then, that's when his mind finally popped up. It made him shiver his whole body when he realized who was missing...
Miguel.
It was Miguel.
Previously, Miles expressed his admiration for each unique Spider-Person, acknowledging their strengths and qualities. However, there was one person with whom he struggled to establish a rapport throughout their entire journey through the Spider-Verse. From Morales' perspective, this person harbored a strong dislike towards him.
And that person was Miguel fucking O'Hara.
His relationship with the older man was not the best from the beginning when they first met, nor was it a good first impression since the first thing the goddamn beast did was throw a metal trash can so furiously at him and almost kill him in the head.
All he did was offer an empanada.
That man was the one who let canon event almost kill his father, the one who wanted to imprison him before he could have the chance to do something else to save his father's life, and the one who ordered the entire Spider-Society to chase him.
But the worst part that it hurt him the most and couldn't get out of his head was that he is an anomaly, fate was never intended for Miles to become Spider-Man, and as a result, his universe's Peter Parker should not have met his fatal death due to his actions.
Miles will never, repeat, never gonna forget what O'Hara did and treated him.
On the other hand, he is a believer in second chances, so at the time when Miguel realized his mistake at the very last minute, saying screw the whole canon event bullshit and finally helping him in defeating the Spot, Miles had to swallow his anger this time and let a pass to O'Hara for support him, or at least do for the sake of the Multiverse's safety.
It was quite a huge surprise on his part, and the youngest appreciates his help.
Still, he has a sour taste whenever the older man appears in his mind, and every time Miles remembers that beast dressed in man's clothing is full of fear.
And he isn't sure when he can be over it already.
After saving the Multiverse, the two could have had a reconcíliate conversation at Spider Society HQ. However, when Miles finds the older man with cold, dreadful blood-colored in his eyes, he takes a step back and goes the other way. Miles fears the man might try to kill him again for wasting his time.
And he doesn't want to think about being slain by those huge lethal claws coming from the man's fingertips, with his blood all around them.
So, whether drawing Miguel or not drawing Miguel, is the question.
The problem is if he draws Miguel, he will be dead, and he'll never be able to erase that man from his mind. It would be a permanent problem, never to go away.
What in the goddamn hell does that mean?
Miles had been keeping a secret for a while. He was too embarrassed to share it with anyone, even his friends, parents, or roommate. The truth is, not only he feels fear towards the oldest but has a major crush on him.
Yes, shocking, he knows.
Yes, he had previously said he had no interest in having romantic feelings for anyone.
And yes, he hates it for keeping lying to himself.
The conflicting emotions that the boy was experiencing were causing him a great deal of anxiety and uncertainty, and he didn't know how to deal with them. From the moment they met, Miles felt a deep love for Miguel. He believed it might be a passing infatuation with this strikingly handsome man.
But as time passed, Miles realized it was much more than that. He has always admired the beauty of masculinity, and meeting someone who embodied it so entirely was a truly breathtaking experience for his bright eyes.
Isn't it so funny when you end up so head over heels in love with the man who is twice or thrice older than you, beats you up, drags you down, and wants to kill you like prey? What a sick joke!
He should know better than this, but Miles just keeps living in his fucking pathetic teenage fantasies of a man who's never going to feel the same way as him and who simply sees him as an annoying little brat who never stops making excuses and keeps making stupid mistakes as any stupid teenage.
Miles should let his stupid crush die as quickly as possible. He wanted these silly feelings to be completely gone forever.
But as much as he tries, he can't deny his love for Miguel, despite his occasionally cold, arrogant, and sarcastic behavior. Miles fights to connect with Miguel on a deeper level and desires to spend more time together. He wants to talk, ask how his day is, share laughter, and see his smile.
And perhaps, if the older man will allow it into his heart, a passionate and eternal kiss on his lips.
That is a dream that will never come true, but it's pleasant to keep daydreaming about it once in a while.
The boy gazes intently at the two blank pages of his art book and the pencil resting on them. He carefully picks up the pencil- no, instead of that, he grabs a red pen, takes a deep breath, and finally decides to draw Miguel.
Miles began his sketch by focusing on the oldest face, carefully sketching his tired eyes, thick dark eyebrows, faintly curled lips, well-built nose, and straight but messy, tousled hair. The most striking feature, however, was the sharp, shady cheekbones that perfectly complemented his complexion.
It became calm and fun stuff making expressions and drawing situations like Miguel sipping coffee, staring tiredly at the golden holograms, and him talking grumpily to Lyla while she was making fun of him.
Everything was fine until it felt tense.
Looking straight at the older man's crimson dark eyes on the paper made him feel something.
Something that his thoughts and ideas became deeper and darker.
The youngest then draws O'Hara's pointed, sharp fangs and another drawing of his tongue touching, caressing the blood of his fangs. The older man bloodily and brutally killed someone by slashing it with his claws, followed by a drawing of Miguel biting the neck of another victim. Miles keeps going doing more and more.
He is not the type of artist who usually draws blood and gore, he's the opposite of it, but the way he imagines Miguel slaughtering the bad guys with his lethal claws and venomous fangs, tearing up the organs, slaying perfectly, and biting ferociously at the neck, then ending up being a mess around his mouth and teeth with blood and simply cleaning up by licking erotically with his tongue just makes the youngest feel so many unholy things that he just couldn't help it to himself.
While Miles was absorbed in his little bubble of art and music, oblivious to his surroundings of the room, a mysterious, huge, strong hand carefully opened and entered the window. The hand placed something delicately on the desk before gently closing the window and disappearing.
Unfortunately, the hand's strength accidentally made a loud, harsh hit at the bottom of the window, leading Miles to lose focus on the sketches momentarily. Hearing the noise through his headphones gave him a huge scare. The boy took his headphones out of his ears instantly, looking at the window to see if there was any intruder or danger he would have to face.
As Miles looked out the window, he saw nothing, but he felt that his mind was playing tricks on him, making him feel like a dangerous person was lurking outside. He took precautions, believing that it was just his imagination and not a real threat, even though it felt like someone knew his true identity and sought revenge.
He was just about to get back to sketching the older man when he glanced at the desk. At first, he didn't notice anything unusual, but then he saw something that made his eyes full wider and his cheeks feel hot.
"Are these sunflowers?"
His bright honey-colored doe eyes looking at the vivid beauty of the lovely flowers with golden sunshine and a delicate flavoring are referenced, along with how warm and pleasant it is to be around, vibrant and joyful like the delicious summer sun.
The boy rises from his seat and walks towards the desk to carefully pick up the flowers. With a soft smile, he examines the bouquet curiously, wondering who the mysterious fan is, why they gifted him such a beautiful present, and the main question, how did they know that sunflowers are his favorites?
As he gazes at the flowers, something catches his attention, sending shivers down his spine and wiping off his smile, with his reaction changing into a disturbing expression.
The poor yellow petals are covered with several tiny fresh blood drops.
Why is there blood on them?!
After catching the frightening detail, Miles realizes that his hands and shirt are spotted in blood from holding the bloody sunflowers.
"Shit!" he curses to himself for that.
As he was about to put the bouquet on the desk, he noticed a small piece of paper among them. This paper contained a brief message, causing him to suddenly become overwhelmed with questions.
The boy delicately grasped the small scrap of paper, which also had blood stains on it that had been seen. Despite the blood smearing the writing, he eventually deciphered a recognizable word in a foreign language he knew.
'Perdón'
'Sorry'
Sorry? Sorry for what?
He found himself overthinking, instinctively shifting his view toward the window, taking in the dreary sight of raindrops cascading down the glass.
The heart inside his chest pounded quickly for the mysterious person he was trying to find, hoping to catch even a glimpse of their enigmatic amidst the downpour.
Miles peered down through the glass. The street outside appeared blurry and gloomy, no people or vehicles were coming into sight, and the heavy fog and raindrops made it nearly impossible to see anything.
Until...
He found someone.
Someone of huge significant size and height, with a well-fit physique, wearing a black hoodie that hides their head and face. Additionally, they were dressed in a snug-fitting pair of dark blue pants and black and white Nike shoes.
Their moves were quick and hurried as they climbed down the wall of the building. After reaching the ground, they glanced around in both directions, adjusted their hood, and walked away to the front sidewalk as fast as they could.
Miles realizes he cannot simply stand there with his arms crossed and pretend that person didn't exist. He must take action to identify them, understand their motives for being there, and determine how they obtained his address.
The teenager quickly puts on one of his hoodies, then his shoes, grabs his keys, and heads out the door, which he slams loudly without thinking. He immediately feels sorry for his neighbors and runs down the stairs of the building, struggling to catch his breath.
He arrives at the entrance hall of the building, heads towards the doors, and steps out into the heavy rain. Although his face and clothes become wet, he pays no attention to it and continues to his main point.
It didn't attempt Miles to search again as the stranger remained present on the other sidewalk, standing on the back, appearing slightly... agitated?
Despite the possibility of looking foolish, the teenager felt compelled to confront the sicko and shouted at them without hesitation:
"HEY!"
Upon hearing the boy loud and clear, their body stopped being agitated. However, they didn't respond to him, which left Miles feeling dissatisfied. They appeared to stand there without taking any action or saying anything.
In frustration, Miles shouted at them again and descended the stairs of full puddles before arriving at the sidewalk.
"Yeah, you! I'm talking to you! Don't you dare try to run away, or else I will have to—" as the teen was about to finish the sentence, the stranger's face turned towards him, locking eyes with the younger one. Miles was taken aback as he recognized something familiar in their gaze, leaving him speechless.
Miles was transfixed as he and the stranger were showered in sparkling water droplets that seemed to fall in them.
The stranger's features were notably recognizable to Miles, as they bore a striking resemblance to the same deep-set tired shape, thick dark brows, and red eyes of full enragedness that had previously haunted him in his dreams, fantasies, and nightmares. Miles's body remained frozen, unable to take his eyes off the familiar countenance before him.
As he gazed at the figure across the street, a sense of disbelief washed over him. Could it really be Miguel? The man's appearance, or at least part of the eyes, was strikingly similar, but he couldn't be sure. With cautious small steps, he was about to make his way across the road, eager to get a better look and confirm his suspicions, and maybe, just maybe-
However, amid his thoughts, Miles' attention was abruptly diverted by the sudden appearance of a speeding truck, which seemed to materialize out of thin air. The vehicle carelessly splashed water from the nearby puddles onto Miles, creating a momentary haze that made it difficult for him to see his surroundings.
The truck left Miles even more wet and cold, and he grew increasingly frustrated. Despite this, he wiped his eyes, quickly regained his composure, and turned back his attention to the hoodie man.
The man was not there anymore.
Where the fuck did he go?
Feeling desperate, he looked around several times, scanning both directions. When he looked to his left, he saw the man was already running away, and Miles knew he had to stop him pronto.
"Wait, don't go!" he shouts to the stranger, but he sure knows it wouldn't make him stop. So Miles, now doing this for real this time, starts taking action, first crossing the street and then finally starting to run, chasing the man in the full of wet puddles in their shoes.
Two men are playing some kind of a game of persecution, exchanging subtle glances as they approach each other with a sense of proximity but also distance. Despite Miles knowing he should not have caused a scene, he felt it necessary to confront the other person and seek answers.
The wet street's slippery floor soon became more difficult with each step they tread, and more with the boy who started feeling more exhausted, and his legs felt heavier and heavier as if they were made of bricks. Morales could hear his breaths getting shorter and shorter, his hoodie getting weighty by the second, and he felt his sneakers getting soaked from the goddamn rain.
Despite his exhaustion, Miles refused to give up.
He had to run this as fast as he could.
He had to catch up with that son of bitch.
But what Miles didn't know, since he was in the back, is that the hooded man rolled up the sleeve of his sweater on his right arm, revealing a watch, but is not a typical watch, oh no, it was much more than that, this is more advanced and technological.
He was pressing the buttons and opening a portal in haste to abandon this failed mission and leave this location. But he couldn't get it right and muttered an expletive as his hands shook from stress and the cold from the rain.
Without realizing it, he slowed down, which provided a great opportunity for Miles. He can finally make the next and last move from him after gaining a few more inches.
But because of the bad luck that happens in his life, to be so rushed and forgetful, Miles totally forgot to tie his shoelaces. Due to this fact, plus that the water is making it more slippery, he stumbles. The poor boy trips over the other laces of his shoes, with his legs moving uncontrollably through the water like a cartoon, and falls against the floor.
He suffers a severe, serious hit to his face as he falls to the ground, smashing his nose, and believes he hears a crack through this portion of the bone.
"¡MIERDA!"
Upon hearing this, the man turned his head back, fixing his eyes. He saw the boy face down on the ground, grunting and groaning in pain from the fall.
He could have kept running, running from the younger one, never looking back, opening the portal, and successfully escaping.
But feeling so terrible about the youngest's suffering and vulnerable position, the man couldn't simply leave him on the street like that. So he cautiously approached the teen, helped him up, knelt down, and gently held onto his thin but firm arms with his large hands.
"I am so sorry, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to- ¿Estás bien? ¿Estás herido?"
The voice that Miles heard was deep and familiar, with a baritone tone. It kept repeating apologies in the mix of Spanish and English- "sorry," "lo siento," and "perdóname." As the person picked Miles up, he noticed that the boy's nose was bleeding all the way to the chin, it made him feel uneasy.
When the kid feels the crimson liquid on his nose, he rubs it carelessly, and makes it even worse. Whining like a baby, "Get off me!" he firmly takes off the older man's hands from his arms.
"Argh- my nose! Man, what's wrong with you?! Why'd you—?"
His eyes widened, both astonished and bewildered, then his mouth opened in silence as he looked up to see the stranger's face for the first time.
It's him.
It's Miguel.
He was about to ask the older man why he came here and why he gave sunflowers until Morales noticed something was really wrong and could see more clearly up close.
The poor guy had blood, cuts, and bruises all over his face, and he realized that his left eye had a hideous dark bruise.
And he thought that he had a bad day so far.
"Holy shit, Miguel, what happened?!" approaching and carefully touching the face, O'Hara refused the approach, feeling almost slightly the soft skin of Miles's fingers, stopping him by using his hands and grabbing his little wrists. He only answers:
"It's nothing, just a stupid fight. I went the wrong way, but it's nothing to worried about—"
"Oh no, no, no, this is serious. We should patch you up right now, or you'll get infected!"
"Please don't—"
"Dude, I'm not asking. C'mon, get up! I have cold bags and band-aids in my apartment. It will help you a lot, trust me."
Miguel sighed instead of saying "no" and that he could develop a quick escape to open a portal out of nowhere on the floor and enter while falling backward.
Given the fact that Miles was making sad puppy eyes, he knew he wouldn't relinquish control so quickly until it had what it wanted, plus along with nosebleed made it much harder for him to say otherwise, so he released the kid's wrists, signaling his surrender.
The older man stands up and extends his palm to help Miles up as well. The young boy's cheeks turn red as he notices the size difference between their hands. Although Miguel's gesture fits perfectly, Miles is surprised by his unexpected gentleness.
As Miles glanced over at Miguel's hand, he couldn't help but notice the extensive bruising on his knuckles. As he took a closer look, he saw that there were also small cuts that were still oozing blood. Gently, he reached out and ran his thumb over the back of Miguel's hand. It was clear that the injuries were quite severe and would require more than just simple first aid to fully heal.
Without further discussion, they made their way back to Morales's apartment. Both of them needed to clean up their wounds, get some rest, and have a lengthy conversation.
And boy, what happens next is going to be bloody hilarious.