Chapter Text
On the days that Hobie had shows, he always tried to go for a swing first. No matter how many times he climbed up on a stage, there was always that constricting feeling in his chest. A tickle in the back of his throat. Hobie loved being on stage, he loved the way his guitar felt under his hands and he loved the thrum of the music as it bored through him. The adrenaline from being on stage was a high, almost, one that made him almost as giddy as taking down the latest baddie.
But it was still nerve wracking. Remembering the lyrics, the notes, the set order. Relying on his friends to stay in pace with him and trusting the audience to be safe. So, Hobie had taken to going for a swing before each show. It sapped his energy, filled him with that light, heady feeling as he twisted through flips and narrowly avoiding crashing into things. When Hobie went for a swing before a show, he could trust his hands to be steadier. Knew his head would be on a bit more straight. It became a tradition, almost.
Having Miles with him was icing on the cake. Hobie loved swinging with Miles, loved the tricks they did together, loved how he screamed when he got too close to traffic and laughed when he pulled off a stunt. Swinging with Miles felt like pure lightning striking through Hobie. It filled him up with so much joy he half expected himself to burst.
The show set for that night was going to be big. It was a small venue in an underground pub that Riri had scouted out, but Hobie was excited nonetheless. He had put posters all through up the community center and across town and tickets sold out within a day or two. Mattea was visiting from down South and she was going to be the guest drummer for the evening, something that had Kamala tied up in the knots with her excitement. Riri was going to be on sound and all of Hobie’s friends would be there. The Arachkids, including Gayatri, and Karl and Robbie would be in attendance. Hobie felt so much pride and warmth knowing his friends were so happy to support his music. It was going to be a good night.
But that meant Hobie had a lot of energy to burn off.
“Careful!” Miles laughed when Hobie cut him off. Miles twisted his hips into a wide arc to avoid the collision. “You tryna kill me?”
“I’d never!” Hobie said.
“Stay in your lane, Spider-Punk!” Miles let go of his web and fell towards the traffic before catching himself right above a cabbie and leaping across the roofs of cars.
“Oh you bugger-” Hobie leapt after him, landing on top of someone’s car with a crunch. At least he didn’t leave a dent. He chased after Miles along the roof tops of cars before he stuck a web to an overarching overpass and swung into the lead with a victorious shout. He heard Miles complaining behind him, ever a sore loser, but Hobie yanked himself back into the rooftops and heard the thwip of Miles’ webs as he pursued.
Hobie skidded to a stop on the top of a skyscraper and turned to welcome Miles when he landed, too. Miles laughed as he shook off the webs he was holding before gesturing to Hobie. “You drive me crazy, man.”
“Y’ love me for it.” Hobie said, grabbing Miles’ hand and pulling him closer. “You’ll catch up to me one day, love.”
“Oh shut up.” Miles playfully pushed Hobie’s face away. “You know New London better than I do. I’d smoke you in New York any day.”
“Yeah?” Hobie laughed. “You’ve only been patrollin’ wit’ me for what, comin’ onto a year now?”
“Like you had the whole city scoped out within a year of being Spider-Man.” Miles complained. “Where’s this expert navigation when we’re in New York, huh?”
“Don’t be a numpty.” Hobie said. He loved Miles. Loved him so much he didn’t know what to do with it. It was easy, ribbing him, and hilarious when Miles tried to bite back. Hobie pulled his mask over his nose and Miles scrambled to do the same as Hobie leaned in for a kiss.
His skin started to crawl.
He stopped a hair away and pulled back.
“Y’ feel that?”
“Yeah.” Miles said. He stepped away from Hobie and looked around. “I have no idea where it’s coming from, though.”
Hobie tried to focus on the itch of his spider sense as he and Miles fixed their masks. He tried to find which direction the strange feeling was pulling him. But there was nothing. It didn’t feel urgent, thank god, but it was a persistent scratching that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It made Hobie uncomfortable. The fact that he didn’t know what was causing it was somehow worse than the itch itself. While his spider sense usually pointed him in one direction, what that feeling was felt like Hobie’s entire body was being scrutinized, like the danger was already inside of him.
“That’s… so weird.” Miles murmured. He rubbed the back of his neck like he felt it too. “Usually…”
“I know.” Hobie said. He walked to the edge of the building and peered into the street. “’s usually a lot more noticeable than this.”
“You think someone is watching us?” Miles asked. He walked around the building and peered behind the stairwell. Nothing.
“Nah.” Said Hobie. “I’d really be able to feel it then. I was itchin’ up a storm when those drones were chasin’ me.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Miles said, walking up to Hobie and squeezing his hand. “If neither of us are freaking out, it can’t be that bad.”
“You’re right.” Hobie sighed. “We should be gettin’ home so I can get ready.”
“Sounds good.” When Miles smiled through the mask, his lens got all wonky, and it made Hobie want to rip off the stupid thing and kiss him silly. Then wasn’t the time, though, and instead Hobie nodded to the edge of the roof and they swung back to his flat together. It wasn’t far from where they had landed. Instead of racing this time around, Hobie and Miles tried to stay in pace with each other. They found a stretch of street with nothing to obscure them and swung side by side in silence. Hobie wished he could have called it peaceful, but even though he had stopped, that crawling feeling was dominating his mind. What the hell was up with that?
With show time looming closer, Hobie tried to push it from his mind. He and Miles climbed through his window into his apartment and started the frustrating process of getting out of their suits so they could put on something more appropriate. Poor Miles always got stuck in his suit, skin tight as it was, and it always made Hobie thankful that he stuck with much more comfortable suit even if it had seen some pretty serious wear and tear.
Hobie had already decided to wear a sheer top with eight too many tears since he was expecting the venue to get pretty hot. He could chuck his vest over it when he and Miles walked over. He was sorting through what bottoms he wanted to wear when Miles spoke up across the apartment.
“I have no idea what to wear.”
“You’ve already been t’ like, five of my shows.” Hobie laughed. “Wear whatever you want, love.”
“Yeaah, but I always stick out!” Complained Miles. “Give me tips. Advice. I’ll take anything.”
“Anything?” Hobie taunted. He pulled the skirt he wanted out of his dresser and tossed it onto the bed before turning to Miles. “You’re gonna let me put you in anything?”
Miles suddenly seemed very fidgety in his boxers. “O-okay, maybe not a skirt.”
“Awh.” Hobie grinned as he walked up to Miles to wrap his arms around his waist. “Masculinity’s feelin’ a little fragile, love?”
“Shut up Hobie, oh my god.” Miles looked anywhere in the flat but Hobie. He had this little pout on his face and he let out a big sigh when Hobie kissed his cheek. “I just. They’re not for me. You look great! But. Not now. Maybe. Another time.”
“Another time.” Hobie said. He pat Miles’ chest. “I’ll hold you t’ that.”
“I expect nothing less.” Miles said, burdened with the fate of loving Hobie Brown.
Stealing one more kiss just to put the smile back on Miles’ face, Hobie grabbed the skirt he had thrown onto the bed and unzipped the side so he could wrestle it on. It was maybe a size too big but fell past his knees in a way that made it fun to spin in so Hobie just belted it tightly around his waist. Once he was more or less fully clothed, he started digging through his dresser again.
Hobie could feel Miles watching him. He usually liked it, how easy it was to be around Miles and be seen by him. But after that weird feeling on the rooftop, eyes on Hobie’s back when he couldn’t tell what kind of face was making Hobie’s skin itch. He was just so… put off by that feeling. It felt like a promise, like something bad had already happened, like Hobie had missed something. Half of him wanted to go back to that rooftop and look a little closer, but he wasn’t going to cancel on the Spider-Band so close to show time because Hobie had a bad feeling. He had been done in by his spider sense before and Hobie wasn’t going to let it get to him before a big show with all of his friends.
“What’re we thinking, love?” He asked over his shoulder. Miles sidled up beside him and looked at the drawers of patched up pants and jeans. Hobie picked up a pair. “I think all my trousers will be a little long on you.”
“I can roll them up.” Miles said. Ever since his growth spurt, with his shoulders being so much broader but the rest of him still lanky, he had gotten good at making clothes that fit him a little awkwardly work. It just made Hobie love him more- Miles was way better at thrifting than Gwen and Pav were. Karl was next to hopeless with his bad taste and Robbie was happy wearing the same five tank tops for the rest of his life.
“Mm. Right then.” Hobie picked out a pair of ripped up jeans and dug through the bottom drawer for the Spider-Band t-shirt that Pav had made for him. Miles looked at the pieces like he was interested and Hobie started going through the little jewelry chest he had for some chains that Miles could wear. “You’d let me do your face though, yeah?”
“With makeup?” Miles said, pulling the shirt over his head. “Sure, Hobs.”
“Mint.” Hobie grinned. He grabbed his collar and his bracelets with the web shooters in them and made sure he was properly studded out before he went to the bathroom to retouch his makeup and add some bigger eyeliner. When Miles was ready he joined him in the bathroom, looking down at himself like he wasn’t sure what to do when he wasn’t hiding underneath his suit or one of his big puffer jackets.
“Oi.” Hobie said, pressing a kiss to Miles’ temple. “Y’ look lovely.”
“Thank you.” Miles smiled at himself in the mirror. “It’s just different, yenno?”
“Nah, I get it.” Hobie said. He pulled on his cheek and leaned closer to the mirror to get a better look at what he was doing. “I remember the first time I got all dressed up. It’s a new feeling, innit?”
“Yeah! Yeah.” Miles cleared his throat. “So… what do you want to do for my makeup?”
“’m just gonna put on eyeliner on you.” Hobie said. “Not gonna ask for much your first time tryin’ something new.”
For himself, though, Hobie grabbed the little compact of black eyeshadow he had snagged years ago. For such a small pot, the makeup had lasted him a long time, and Hobie ran his finger along the creases of the tin to rub the pigment around the corners of his eyes.
“That looks painful, dude.” Miles laughed.
“The myth that makeup ‘as to be uncomfortable was started to mask the societal pressure feminine people feel to change their appearance n’ downplay the discomfort they experience each day.” Hobie said. Wearing makeup didn’t hurt, not at all, and Hobie leaned back to get a better look at himself. Once the compact was safe in his makeup bag, he turned on Miles and grabbed him by the jaw. “Your turn, moppet!”
Miles reflexively flinched, grabbing onto Hobie’s wrist and pushing his hand away with a laugh. “Okay, okay, don’t poke my eye out!”
“Wouldn’t.” Hobie said, popping the lid of the eyeliner pencil off. “Y’ need those. C’mere.”
With one hand, he held Miles still. With the other, he very carefully ran the pencil underneath his waterline and along his lashes. Hobie even flicked it out along the corner to give Miles smudged wings. Miles had such big, round eyes, and Hobie thought the puppy liner looked adorable on him. It almost made him look sleepy and Hobie grinned when Miles looked himself in the mirror and his eyes went wide.
“Oh, wow.”
“Eyeliner does a lot, don’ it?” Hobie said. “Want some glitter?”
“You’re pushing your luck, man.” There was no heat behind Miles’ words.
“Your loss.” Hobie took out a container of silver gel glitter and swiped it along the inner corners of his eyes. He bat his eyelashes at Miles and leaned into his space. “See ‘ow pretty I am with it?”
“You’re always pretty, Hobie.” Miles said. Hobie sucked on his teeth and kissed him with a smile.
“Careful, Morales, or we may not make it t’ the show.”
“Riri would kill you.” Miles said.
“Worth it.”
Hobie always kept his web shooters on him and it was a habit that Miles was picking up, too. Hobie kept his web shooters in his studded bracelets to conceal them and had built a slot into the watches he made for his friends where they could slide their web shooters into. It meant less stacking watches on bracelets on web shooters and risking something malfunctioning. But even though Hobie had his web shooters and Miles did too, they opted to walk to the venue. Hobie spent so much time up in the air of New London that sometimes he forgot what it felt like to walk through the streets. There was something awfully domestic about holding Miles’ hand as they walked through New London.
The thing about being the star of the show meant Hobie had to duck into an alley way and enter the pub through the back entrance, though. He felt his stomach crawl at the sight of the line already gathering outside the door an hour before the set was meant to start. He and Miles trod down the stairs of the pub into its basement, finding the rest of the band already waiting.
“Fashionably late.” Riri said.
“An’ you expect nothin’ different.” Hobie grinned. She rolled her eyes but had a smile on her face.
“You’re lucky Mattea is late too.” Kamala said. “Means Riri is gonna have words with her instead of you.”
“I’m shaking.” Hobie deadpanned. He shrugged off his guitar and made his way towards the stage. “Sound check, Ri?”
“Kamala did her guitar and the mic.” Riri said. She turned to Miles and gave him a smile. “Good t’ see you, Miles.”
Hobie loved watching Miles interact with the Spider-Band. Riri was nicer to Miles than she was to him and Kamala had so much excited energy all the time that she got Miles riled up and they’d gang up on the rest of them together. Karl and Robbie hadn’t arrived yet, but even they had a good relationship with Miles. And it was hard to get on Robbie’s good side.
“Nice to see you to, Riri. How are you?”
“Oh, I’d be fine if people showed up on time for sound check.” She said dreamily. She walked over to the sound table as Hobie hooked himself up to the speakers and looked out at the pub.
It was a nice venue, this pub. The back wall was the bar itself, with a good number of stools to recline on. To it’s left was the stairs to the entrance, and the bathrooms were on the right. Right in front of the pub, two steps down, was the floor where the concert goers could stand as the show played on. The stage was elevated by a few feet directly across from the pub and had decent room for the band to stand. Hobie cringed when he remembered the Shakespearean stage in the last place that barely had room for Gwen’s drumkit. Nightmare. Someone had tried to grab him and that did not end well.
Hobie watched Miles sit on one of the stools so he could stay out of the way. Hobie hummed the tune of one of their songs to himself as he played a few chords, working with Riri to get the tuning right on his guitar and the speaker’s output. Kamala climbed up to sing a few words to make sure the mics didn’t interfere with each other and Hobie was getting that anxious, giddy feeling he always got when a concert was about to begin.
The bouncer stepped down the stairs. “Bout to let in the crowd.” He said. Riri thanked him and Miles walked up to the stage.
“Break a leg.” He smiled. Hobie crouched to Miles’ level and tipped up his chin to give him a kiss.
“Say hi to the gang for me, will ya? I’ll see you after the set, love.”
“I got you.” Miles stepped back and Hobie winked at him before leaving his guitar on the stand and slinking backstage with Kamala.
There wasn’t much space back stage, but there was the wings behind the curtains and a little cross over behind the stage itself. Someone had been nice enough to cram an armchair in the wings and Hobie collapsed into it, smiling up at Kamala as she stretched her arms, literally stretched them, to crack her knuckles. Sinking into the cushions of the arm chair, Hobie tried to relax, but his heart was thrumming in his ribcage at the promise of the show to come. The familiar anxiety of being on stage started to creep down his arms and Hobie was yet again reminded of that uncomfortable feeling from the rooftop. It was hard for Hobie to distinguish what discomfort was being caused by his excitement to perform and what discomfort was being caused by the memory of him and Miles freezing up on the rooftop.
“You guys are so cute.” Kamala snapped Hobie out of his spiral as she perched herself on the arm of the chair and looked out towards the empty stage.
Hobie’s affection for Miles always outweighed the discomfort in his stomach.
“’s all him.” Hobie said. He considered the red glow the spotlight created over Mattea’s drumkit. “Mattea is on ‘er way, right?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kamala said. “I think she’s just not used to being outside of Bristol.”
Hobie could sympathize with her. When he had first joined the Spider Society, he hated navigating other Spider’s dimensions. He couldn’t imagine how scary it was as someone who had premeditated pathways to get where she needed to go as a person with a disability to suddenly be in a bigger city without much guidance. Mattea was capable, of course, and Hobie trusted her to show up before they needed to be on stage.
The dread he felt for Mattea again turned into dread he felt for himself. Hobie turned to Kamala, needing to get his concerns out into the air before they were on stage and locked into their set.
“Kamala.” Hobie said. She looked at him instead of responding like she could feel the way his tone shifted. “I… I felt somethin’ off this afternoon. ‘s got me on edge, a little. Keep an eye out, yeah?”
“Like your spidey sense?” Kamala asked.
“Nah.” Said Hobie. “It was different.”
“Concerning.” She quipped. “I’ll keep an eye on the crowd tonight. Try to relax, okay?”
Hobie heard the bustle of moving bodies and conversation begin as the venue filled up with waiting fans. “I’ll try.”