Archive of Our Own

Brady was talking nonsense

That was the only way to describe their current conversation. Nonsense. He has half the mind to stand up and yell at everyone to stop glorifying this so-called ‘Spider-Man’ and wake up to the fact that he’s probably nothing but a publicity stunt.

“I think it’s really cool,” Brady continues. “There’s always those people who just put on a costume and run around, but this one is different.”

No, no he isn’t! Ben wants to scream, but he keeps his mouth shut and listens. For now, anyway. Worst of all, both Lola and Donna are completely enamored by the idea. They say it’s because he’s authentic, that he actually has these powers and can use them for good. Ben calls bullshit. If anything, he looks like some amateur. He’s blocked every single website that posts on Spider-Man, which is to say, all of them.

“I don’t really think he’s all that.” He finally interjects off-handedly, to which three heads slowly swivel in his direction. “What? Haven’t you remembered all the other times that someone tried to be Batman?”

“Be a little optimistic, Ben!” Donna sighs, and great! Another thing for them to be completely opposites about. It wasn’t like he despised superheroes. He just…didn’t like people who wanted to be them.

“I’ll be optimistic if Spider-Man comes in and saves me from falling off a building.” He retorts, and for some reason that only seems to further excite his sister.

“Oh, wouldn’t that be romantic?” Donna sighs, fanning herself and maybe Ben wants to tear his hair out. Brady raises an eyebrow and before he can say anything, Donna continues, “don’t worry. I won’t be throwing myself off of rooftops so Spider-Man can save me. Or you.”

The rest of the conversation goes above his head. His gaze had mistakenly drifted over towards Ricky Collin’s table, and he wasn’t even sure what to think about that. Their situation was…weird, in a way. He wouldn’t exactly call them friends because there was no way they would actually hang out, but Ricky and him sleep in the same bed together so that has to be…well, something. Not friends. Just…something.

The moment he sees Ricky’s head turn in his direction, he averts his gaze and stares back down at his food. It wasn’t like he was doing anything bad, but Ricky would probably hold it over his head for a really long while.

God, he really didn’t want to think about Ricky right now. Every time he managed to do that, he gave himself a headache that refused to leave and haunted him day and night. This was worse than his failed relationship with Lola.

Which…wasn’t horrible. He had liked Lola, and she was really pretty and sweet. Yet maybe he had tried too hard to convince himself that thinking she was cute was love. He had nearly cried in relief when one day she confessed to him that maybe they had taken things too quickly. They ended it on good terms, but sometimes he found himself missing the feeling of whatever they were.

It wasn’t like they stopped hanging out. They talked just as much as they used to, and quite frankly, it didn’t feel like anything had changed. Which might have been the problem in the first place.

Well, they were past that anyway, and there was no reason for Ben to even be thinking about that at the moment. It bothered him sometimes, how his mind would always drift from Ricky to Lola and back again. Donna’s confusion about them being related suddenly felt a little more personal.

Ben had the unfortunate situation of having lunch as his second to last period of the day, which was a system that forced him to starve for far too long. Luckily, that meant that all he had to do was get through History and he would be fine.

“Oh, Ben? Mom wanted one of us to stop by the store and grab some bandages. We keep running out for some reason.” Donna pipes up. They both (as well as Brady and Lola) knew very well the reason. In his defense, he hadn’t even gotten into any fights recently.

“And you’re going to make-out with Brady instead?” He responds, and the couple both bear matching flushed faces. Yeah, looks like he hit the target. “I needed to grab some highlighters anyway.”

Alright. History, store, home. Couldn’t be that hard.

History wasn’t awful. He took his notes and zoned out a few times, but he managed to get through it without any bumps in the road. Sometimes, he felt like his life was boring. But it was better than living like Ricky, for sure.

When the bell finally rings, he doesn’t bother trying to talk to anyone. He could already feel a headache coming on for no particular reason, and any interaction might just cause him to lose his mind. Especially because the only thing he can hear right now are boys and girls alike fawning over Spider-Man.

Ben decides that if he ever meets the guy behind the mask, he might have to give him a good beating. From the reports that he was forced to view, their new hero definitely had an ego too big for his head. And the public was doing nothing but adding fuel to those flames.

He’s tempted to clearly plug his fingers in his ears and loudly yell to block out the mention of his name. It wasn’t like Spider-Man did anything to him personally, but superheroes in general were just not his thing. Especially superheroes that were basically just human spiders.

The convenience store that he had in mind was right in the middle of his school and his home. It was about a five minute walk there and then another five minutes, so he estimated that he would probably be home in fifteen to twenty minutes.

He pushes open the door and the chiming gives the cashier—a young woman who looks fresh out of high school—the signal to smile at him as he enters. He nods back and makes his way over to one of the ailes. His eyes scan over the products before he settles on the cheapest item, a small box of bandages that would probably last them a while if he kept up his peaceful streak.

He tucks the box under his arm, hoping that it didn’t seem like he was trying to steal it as he turns towards the school supplies, which were closer to the entrance.

There’s the swinging of the door as it opens again, and the cashier greeting the guy who walks inside. His hood is up and he’s wearing a mask, his eyes darting to Ben and then the cashier. What a weirdo.

Maybe he shouldn’t have thought that, because the next time he looks up, the man is pointing a gun at the woman who looks into the barrel of it with wide eyes.

“Just—just give me all the money!” He demands, and there are a variety of gasps and mumbles from a few other shoppers. At the sound of them, the man swiftly turns on his heel, wildly pointing the gun between different shoppers. “Shut up. Shut up, all of you! If you move, or call the police, or do anything, I’ll shoot you! Get on the floor! Now!”

Well, damn. Ben wasn’t too keen on dying at the moment, so he slowly crouches down, inching away from the man. He was close enough to the door, so maybe he could just slip out and get someone to call the cops…

The man turns back towards the worker. Lucy, he thinks her name tag reads. Maybe she’ll get some compensation money from her boss if he mentions this. She starts slowly opening the register, and Ben decides that it would be the perfect moment to make a run for it. The guy was distracted after all.

So he very slowly crouches and embarrassingly waddles towards the door and steadily pulls the door open by its handle.

Yeah, okay, fine. Maybe he forgot about the chime.

The moment that the stupid bell starts making its extremely loud noise, the man’s head snaps backwards, and his eyes glare holes into Ben’s head. He thinks that maybe he should have waited for the police and not pissed off the guy with a gun. That he was now pointing at him.

“Are you stupid, huh? Are you fucking stupid? I said get down and shut up, and you wanna run? I’ll shoot you!”

Donna would have his head if he died. So Ben shifts his weight so that he’s on one knee and opens his mouth to come up with some lame excuse to keep him away from Lucy when the door rings. Again.

Both his and the robber’s heads swivel to the side and—this had to be a joke. Great. It’s Spider-Man. Of all people. Ben was tempted to just let himself get shot in the head at this point.

Spider-Man looks down at Ben first before the robber, pausing in what seems to be surprise, for some reason. Didn’t he know to take down the threat first?

“Oh, hey. Sorry, excuse me.” Spider-Man sings, completely unserious as he steps over Ben and faces the robber. “What’s up, dude?”

At the sight of the apparent superhero, the man stumbles back, pointing the gun at his new target. He takes a few steps backward before grabbing Lucy in a headlock and placing the gun directly against her temple. “If you come any closer, I’ll kill her. I’m taking the fucking money.”

Spider-Man looks completely unbothered, which makes Ben sincerely want to beat some sense into him.

“Don’t you know that it’s not nice to threaten girls?” He says instead of saying something that would get him to back down. He raises his hand and webs shoot out of them. Of course he can do that. Ugh, spiders. The end of the web latches onto the gun quickly, and Spider-Man yanks it back towards him. It lands in his hands and he looks over it briefly.

“Basic. You’re not very impressive, are you? I take it that this is your first robbery?” He hums, and Ben is tempted to just leave now. There’s no way that he wants to be here to listen to this idiot give a lesson on how to properly rob a store.

It’s at that moment that he spots police cars pulling up and he makes the very intelligent decision to back away from the door as they burst through. He thinks that maybe someone in the back had called and thankfully relieved them of having to bear Spider-Man for any longer.

Or, it supposed that only Ben seemed to feel that way, because the moment that the man was placed into handcuffs and escorted to the cop cars, the customers began flooding Spider-Man with thanks and pictures to sign. Lovely.

He wonders if it would be mean to approach Lucy and ask if he could pay for his things now, especially considering that she looks rather disoriented after the whole event. He checks the prices on both of his boxes and fishes out the money from his wallet, sliding them over the counter. She looks down at bills, then the packages, and nods.

When he turns back to escape Spider-Man, he freezes with the horrifying realization that he had lifted his head over the crowd and actually called out to him. “Hey, shortie!”

Yeah, he was not taking this disrespect.

“Come on, no ‘thank you’ for saving your life? He was pointing that gun at you when I showed up, y’know.”

He did know. He was there.

“...thanks.” He mumbles, just loud enough to be heard as he books it out of there. There was no way he just talked to Spider-Man. There was no way there he was even worse than Ben had feared.

He could not let Donna know this happened. He would never hear the end of it. She would never let it go, and she’d always ask questions, and doesn’t think that he’d be able to bear it. So when Donna returns with a frantic look on her face until her eyes find him, he fakes his innocence.

“Ben? Which store did you go to after school?” She asks worriedly, and he raises an eyebrow and then fakes a look of understanding.

“Oh, are you talking about the failed robbery attempt at our usual one? I actually left just as the guy walked in.” He lies easily, and Donna purses her lips before nodding slowly and retreating to her room with a sigh of relief.

Yeah, she was not finding out.

Unfortunately for him, when he gets to his own room, he gets about a minute of peace to change and relax before Ricky climbs in through the window and grins cheekily at him. As usual, his face is a light pink as if he had run ten miles before climbing a cliff to get into Ben’s room.

“What happened to being fit?” He murmurs sarcastically, to which Ricky shrugs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“I’m being even more fit by pushing myself. Clearly.”

“Does that involve running all the way here?”

“Now you’re getting it.”

Ricky retreats to the bathroom to comb through his hair and whatever else he does while Ben pulls himself into bed and tries not to think about what happened earlier. If Donna didn’t need to know, then there was no way in hell that Ricky had to.

A couple of minutes later, they’re both laying together in silence. Ricky’s breathing evens out first, and Ben follows just minutes later.

—

The problem was, the next day brought more Spider-Man talk. No one at school was there, but apparently one girl’s mother was the one who called the police. Everyone wanted to talk to her about how he was and all that. If anyone were to ask Ben, he’d tell them that Spider-Man was a cocky loser. But no one did, so he kept it to himself.

He keeps his secret for the next couple of days, hoping that it would be enough to actually convince him to forget about it. If he was ever asked, he would say that he probably thought about it once or twice. Maybe the truth was that he was thinking about it a little too much, but he would never admit that.

Actually, he’s sure that he would rather drop dead than ever come to terms with that idea. Coming to terms is the wrong phrase for it. More like force himself to succumb to what Donna would want.

Usually he’d walk home with Donna, unless she was going to go out with Brady or stay after school to cheer on his games. Luckily for them, football season was over, so around half the time they’d walk home and Donna would chatter his ear off.

They had planned to walk home this time as well. At least, that was the plan before Kenny came waltzing over.

“Well hello there, pretty lady!” He called out to Lola. He’d been after her ever since he first saw her, which was back when Ben and her were still dating. Now that they had broken things off, he was more insistent than ever.

“I’m not interested in a relationship right now, Kenny.”

“So you will be later? How long do I have to wait?”

“Forever. Just go off with your loser friends.”

“Aw, hey now. We aren’t losers.”

Ben is already pissed about Spider-Man. He’s also mad about anyone making any of his friends uncomfortable. He’s unable to recall exactly what happened or what was said next, but he does remember the echoing gasps as he stands up and punches Kenny right in the face.

Kenny stumbles back and grabs his nose, furrowing his eyebrows but not punching back. “Dude…that was super uncool.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the rest of his group getting up. Ricky is alongside them, turning his head in mild surprise as a teacher rushes over to them and starts yelling at Ben.

He’s landed himself in The Principal’s office for the first time in a long while. Kenny sits beside him, and his nose looks a bit bruised. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel that bad.

“So…Ben. We’re here again.” The Principal clears his throat, wringing his hands together. “I have to say I’m a little disappointed. You and Ricky seemed to be getting along really well—”

“This isn’t even Ricky! What does this have to do with him?”

The Principal raises an eyebrow. “Hey, it’s totally fine if you missed beating Ricky up and needed someone else to fight.”

“What.”

At least the man seems to understand that it was the wrong thing to say. “No? I could have sworn that might be the reason. Well, if you say so. Unfortunately, I can’t just let this slide, and because Kenny didn’t fight back, you can get detention on your own after school today. Have fun with that.”

Of course Kenny got off without anything. If they didn’t count a throbbing nose.

He’s missed most of History by sitting in the office and waiting for the man to actually show up and talk to them, so by the time his punishment has been decided, it’s practically time for him to serve it. Kenny shrugs as he leaves.

“My bad if you still like her. Must be hard, competing with such a handsome guy like me.”

Would it be worth it to punch him again?

Before he can contemplate the idea, Kenny has already waltzed off, leaving Ben alone to grab his bag and pull himself to the designated detention room.

—

It was hell, to say the least. He might have actually preferred having Kenny in there rather than the foul smelling kids that laughed too loud and got themselves into even more trouble. He had booked it out of there the moment they were released, and felt as if he had been held prisoner for years.

He’s not too keen on getting home. His mom was going to yell at him for sure, talk about Donna, and then he would probably get grounded or something along those lines. He wants to get it over with, but he also doesn’t want to deal with it at all.

He’s also not ready to be questioned by potentially both Donna and Ricky. He crosses his fingers and hopes that both of them would just…get it.

Rush hour for high school is over, so there aren’t cars lining up nor kids waiting at stop lights. It felt a little awkward, waiting to cross the street all on his own without a large group of kids going in the same direction, but it saved him the headache of hearing the most outrageous conversations known to mankind.

He tries to think of what his mom might say or do. Maybe revoke his ‘going out’ access, though he only leaves on the weekends. Maybe she’ll only lecture him enough to the point where he might lose his mind and snap at her. Who knows? Maybe he would get lucky and Donna would have somehow run home to stop her from picking up the phone and then writing up a cover story.

Somehow, the idea seems a little far-fetched.

Perhaps if he told her that he was defending a girl, she’d soften up on him. That one might actually work, especially because his mother actually liked Lola. He’d say that some guy was bothering her, so he decided to teach him a lesson.

In the midst of his planning, the stoplight switched colors, signaling for him to cross the street. He shifts his bag on his shoulder and walks across. Rush hour wasn’t over, but there weren’t many cars. In fact, there weren’t even any waiting for him as he crossed. Except for one in the distance rolling towards him, it was eerily empty. Cars on the adjacent side zip past him, and his eyes fall onto the convenience store. Yeah, he’d definitely be avoiding that.

He hears the wheels of the car that had been coming his way, and when he turns to look he swears that it didn’t look like it was slowing down.

He freezes in his tracks. Oh, shit.

It wasn’t slowing down.

The front windshield is tinted, so he can’t tell if the person inside is passed out or distracted, but he knows that he has to make the first move because he’s definitely going to get hit and then slammed into a car who’s stoplight color was green.

But his movements feel like molasses and half of his body is trying to run one way and the other the next so now he’s stuck in place and damn that convenience store because surely it was cursed and he was bewitched to die here.

He doesn’t.

Die, that is. Something latches onto his arm and he’s suddenly being pulled back, and it almost feels like his feet are off the ground with the way that everything around him becomes colored blurs as he hits something and everything stops.

In his slightly dazed stupor, he can see a bright red arm beside him shooting something out from its wrist towards the car that would have hit him, yanking it back with a grunt. It doesn’t work extremely well because the car still collides with another, but it’s extremely mild as compared to what Ben thought would happen.

It registers then. An arm around his shoulders, a red suit and webs. This had to be a joke.

“Woah there, shortie. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you around this often.”

This was horrible.

Spider-Man had saved him. Again. In the exact same area. There was no way this was real life. Maybe he was having a horrible nightmare.

“Do you always just stalk around here?” He asks instead, staring at the accident that was now creating some traffic. He could already hear police sirens. The driver of the car who was hit was already getting out, trying to open the door of the one that nearly hit Ben. Maybe the driver was unconscious. If not, Ben had a serious fight he wanted to start.

“Ha, maybe. It’s worked out in your favor, hasn’t it?” Spider-Man replies cheekily. There is no way this was a grown man. No adult would ever act like this, which forces Ben to believe that he was in college, or high school at the youngest. The idea that this person attended his school made him want to retch, so he forces himself to believe that it’s college instead.

His arm is still around Ben’s shoulders, and he’s quick to push it off. “Do I get to know your name? I’ve saved you twice now.”

“Do I get to know your secret identity?” He retorts, and Spider-Man laughs behind the mask.

“Nah. That’s confidential, sorry dude.”

He was expecting that answer. He doesn’t want to give the guy his name, but he supposed that maybe it would help if Spider-Man knew the name of his biggest hater.

Actually, no. He didn’t want Spider-Man showing up to his school and asking about his day and revealing to everyone that he had been saved by him, not once but twice.

“I was on my way home, so…I hope I don’t see you around.”

Spider-man tilts his head. “No ‘thank you?’ again? Will I have to remind you every time?”

“There won’t be any other times.”

“You think so? I’ll hold you to it.”

Ben regards him for a moment. The police had arrived, along with an ambulance and he really wanted to leave before the press showed up. He was afraid that it was already too late, and the longer he stayed, the longer the risk was.

“Thanks.” He mumbles, and Spider-Man salutes.

“I’ll get your name next time! Catch you later!”

Yeah, Ben was not letting himself be caught anywhere near this area. He could take the extremely long way around if that meant never encountering Spider-Man again.

He slips away just as an officer starts jogging towards them, and he books it all the way home. He would have preferred being yelled at than being saved again.

He unlocks the door and pushes it open and is almost immediately met with Donna throwing herself up from the couch and bounding towards him. He can hear his mother in the kitchen, her footsteps rushing as they move to the door.

“You’re okay, right? No scratches or broken bones?” Donna demands and he blinks before he hears a reporter droning on in the background. He didn’t escape the news outlets, and someone had probably snapped a photo. Great. Just his luck. Could this day get any worse?

Apparently it could. His mom shows up behind Donna, ushering them both inside the house before hugging them.

“Oh, thank the lord for that Spider-Man.” His mom mumbles. Was she really going to let him off the hook because he almost died? “Please be more careful. What would I do if you got detention and then ended up in the hospital?”

Hopefully felt sorry for him and didn’t lecture him.

She continues to mumbles and wipe her hands on her apron, combing her fingers through his hair and advising him to look both ways before crossing the street. He had. But he wasn’t going to rile her up and make her double lecture him for his apparent stupidity, so he stays silent.

It strikes him suddenly how absolutely exhausted she looks. She had always been working the hardest out of all of them, but if the only boy in the house had died…he couldn’t even imagine. She was trying her best.

Donna stops him as they’re going back to their rooms. “Hey, does this count as Spider-Man saving you from falling off a building?”

Ben scoffs. “Absolutely not.”

It wasn’t a building, so it didn’t count.

But the idea of being crushed between those cars and leaving his mom and Donna alone causes a pang in his heart and suddenly he feels the horrible feeling of gratitude to Spider-Man.

It doesn’t last, because he remembers his attitude and it makes him seethe again. Cocky asshole knew that he had saved Ben from what could have been death, and he was going to hold it against him.

Whatever. As long as he didn’t run into Spider-Man again, he wouldn’t have to deal with him.

He uses his free time to finish up any homework that he wasn’t able to get done during detention. He draws rough sketches on the margins of his notebook, and then there’s a knock at his window.

“Are you kidding me?” Ben sighs, pushing back his hair from his forehead. “You’re at least an hour early. Go back outside.”

“C’mon, Brookie! You’re a celebrity! I’ve always wanted to get an autograph from someone famous.” Ricky grins.

“You saw that?” He groans massaging his temple. “Of course you did. You’re probably a huge Spider-Man fan.”

“Yeah, maybe I am. Will you sign my massive bicep?”

“I can’t sign something that doesn’t exist.”

“What?!” Ricky yells distraughtly, standing up from where he had made himself comfortably on the windowsill. “You’ve been beaten up by these muscles more times than I can count!”

“That’s not saying much.”

To attempt to prove his point, Ricky pulls off his jacket and flexes. It’s not really impressive. Ben wouldn’t ever say that they were impressive.

“I’m not signing you.”

“Aw, damn.”

To his relief, Ricky actually shuts his fat mouth for a while, leaving Ben to work on his art in peace. It’s almost like he isn’t there, and if it weren’t for his steady breathing, he would have thought that Ricky had left ages ago.

Mom and Donna leave him alone, though he nearly had a heart attack when he heard a high voice calling out his name, only for Ricky to start laughing after.

“You’re the one getting the police called on you if you get found out.” He warns with a scowl.

“Won’t work. The cops love me.”

Whatever that meant.

When Ben shoves Ricky to his side of the bed, he tries not to think about Spider-Man and the very specific shade of red he had been shading with.

Ricky could be heard in the bathroom, quietly singing some stupid song, and Ben comes to the horrible realization that if Mom and Donna and Ricky all saw a photo of him being rescued by Spider-Man, then so did the whole school.

And he had no doubts that there would be fangirls crazy enough to dart out into the street by the store to have their own moments of fame. If the cops blamed him, he’d blame Spider-Man.

“Y’know, I’ve always liked superheroes.” Ricky’s voice startles him from right beside his ear. He turns swiftly to the side, staring up at the other who has propped himself on on his arms next to him. He hadn’t even heard Ricky come back.

“What happens when they bust you for smoking?”

“They wouldn’t do that.” Ricky sounds mildly offended, but continues talking anyway. “Do you hate them?”

“Spider-Man sure isn’t my favorite person.”

“Am I?”

Ben regards him with furrowed eyebrows. “Hell no.”

Ricky just laughs, like he always does. “I do like them though. Doesn’t matter if they have powers like Green Lantern or pure strength like Robin.”

“Green Lantern and Robin? What about Superman and Batman?”

“I like Green Lantern. I always thought that I’d be better as Robin. Bobbie could be my Batman, though.”

“I imagine you better as the Joker.”

Again, that offended look as if he had been personally insulted. “I would be a great superhero.”

“Right.”

Ricky falls silent as Ben gets up to turn off the lights. “I used to think,” he starts, pausing as if reluctant to say the next words, “that one of them would show up for me.”

Oh.

Now Ben was feeling bad for Ricky Collins.

“I mean—I don’t mean to say that I felt like some sort of damsel in distress or anything—” Ricky is quick to correct, his voice jumping into a higher pitch as he attempts to explain himself.

“I get it.” Ben interrupts. He thinks he does, at least. He had thought the same thing about his dad going to war. About what happened with Heather. Maybe he wasn’t waiting for a hero. Maybe he was just waiting for someone.

“I don’t know. I was hoping that maybe he could just help people like that.”

Ben pauses. “Do you think that he’s going to help you?”

He feels like sheets rustle as Ricky slowly turns so that their backs face each other. “Nah. I’m too old for that now.”

—

Ricky is gone in the morning. Neither of them talk about it when they see each other at school, like all of their conversations. He was a little miffed at the fact that they were actually at a point that they could just talk to each other like that, but he brushes it off like he does everything Spider-Man and Ricky.

It was kind of hard to ignore such an insight into Ricky’s perspective, and Ben isn’t sure if he would ever be able to let himself be vulnerable like that. Something tells him that he should be. At some point. Later.

Kenny had thankfully learned his lesson (for the time being) and backed off from going after Lola. He’s positive that it’s only because he doesn’t want Lola to see his battered up face attempting to persuade her to go out with him.

This meant no more fights and no more detention. That meant leaving school at a proper time and horrifyingly enough seeing Spider-Man atop buildings and watching below like some sort of freakish stalker. He hopes that he blends into the crowd, but something tells him that the superhero could see him very clearly.

Ricky felt a little closer than before. They hadn’t fought for what might be nearing a year, and he actually thought that his life was turning out pretty good now.

He’d avoided that area of town extremely well, if he did say so himself. He hadn’t had any run-ins with trouble for a good month, so surely he would never have to deal with that again.

Knowing his luck, he’d probably just jinxed himself.

He was walking back home after going out to help Donna buy Brady flowers because according to her, it was her signature gift. She barely had time to waste as she practically skipped off to wherever they were having their monthly ‘big’ date, and Ben resorted to walking back alone.

It’s a little late, and the sun had just dipped below the horizon when he heard voices ringing out through an alleyway that he was passing by. It sounds like an argument, and he was about to speed by because there was no way that he was about to poke his nose into that when he heard an awfully familiar voice.

“I told you I don’t have my purse on me!”

Oh, shit. Was that Lola?

He peers into the settling darkness, and with a sense of dread slowly realizes that there were two guys with masks over their faces.

Oh, shit. Ben was definitely getting into a fight again.

They had their backs to him, and so he creeps over towards them, grabbing the first object he finds on the floor which happens to be a wooden crate that had probably been for carrying fruits. He lifts it over his shoulder, and the closer he gets, he can see Lola’s eyes snapping up towards him. Her eyes widen just a bit, but it’s enough for the guys to notice.

“The hell are you looking—”

The man stumbles into the wall when Ben smashes the crate over his head. Maybe not the best plan, because the crate was already worn and battered, so it had been broken to bits. Well, he always fought better with his fists anyway.

Lola is backing away slowly, as if caught between different choices of actions. He doesn’t let her choose.

“Lola, run.” He says simply as the second guy sputters and lunges towards him.

“Who do you think you are? Mind your own business!” He demands, aiming a punch towards Ben’s head. Could he go one month without something this drastic happening? He felt like some sort of unfortunate protagonist in a story written by an inexperienced teen.

“But—”

Lola tries to protest, but he grunts and pushes the guy off. “They aren’t serious fighters. I’ll find you at our usual place.” Yeah, there was no way he was announcing to these guys just where he was sending her off to.

The first one finally regains his senses and turns back to face him. Okay, maybe he was a little overpowered now. Nothing that evading couldn’t fix.

“I’ll go get help!” She calls, taking a few small steps back before running. Good. Now that he didn’t need to worry about her getting caught up in the mess, he could focus on—

A sharp uppercut to his jaw tells him that maybe he needed to work on focusing. Having two opponents wasn’t something he had anticipated. Usually it was just other kids his age. Like Ricky and Kenny. Not two definitely adult men.

Maybe he should have thought a little better about this. Whatever. Lola was going to call over some cop patrolling around or something and the guys would leave and he’d get out without too much injury.

“I don’t really like fighting kids.” One of the men grumbles. He can’t tell where the sound is coming from. He kicks back at one chest and tries to move out of the alleyway to draw more attention to them. This wasn’t Gotham. People were out and about all the time. Crime wasn’t something that had gripped the city up until recently, and even then, Spider-Man had scared a lot of that away.

Spider-Man.

Damn, for once Ben was actually willingly thinking about the guy. It’d be really cool if the cops showed up first.

His head is slammed against the wall and he breathes out slowly to keep himself upright.

“I don’t have any goddamn money either. Go find an actual job.” He manages. There’s a scoff to the right of him.

“Think you’re funny?”

Ben bites down on his tongue and tries to shove the man away from him. He ends up flat on his back against the ground, bits of trash and broken glass digging into his skin.

“You think you’re some kind of hero, kid?” The man taunts, lifting his upper body up by a fistful of his shirt.. “Because you aren’t.”

“No, I suppose not. But I am.”

For the first time in his life, Ben was actually happy to see that fucking costume.

He swings down from the top of the rooftop that he was perched on with his legs outstretched, knocking the first man straight to the ground with a hit to the head. The second had already long since fleed, dropping Ben back onto the ground. The man topples over after hitting the wall with a thump, and doesn’t get back up again.

“Hm. Might have hit him a little too hard. Oh well!” Spider-Man observes, turning over towards Ben. He gets up, brushing himself off and wincing as the adrenaline wears off and suddenly all of his cuts and bruises seem to want him to pay attention to them.

He doesn’t really want to hear Spider-Man start, so he pushes himself off the wall and decides that he can make it home himself.

“Leaving again? Still can’t remember to say thanks?”

The other follows him back out of the alleyway, an arm wrapping around his shoulders as the burden of keeping himself upright is suddenly shared.

“Thanks. I can go on my own.”

“Sure you can, Br—Ben.”

Ben freezes, his head slowly turning towards the masked face beside him. “What?”

Spider-Man also stops, and pauses before answering. “That’s your name, right? I heard this girl calling for help, saying her friend Ben was in danger. A little Spidey-sense told me that it could be you. You have a knack of getting into trouble around these parts.”

These parts? Oh. It was—what a coincidence. He was right where the other two incidents happened. Of course. He had to have forgotten to take a detour.

“Yeah. It’s Ben.” He relents as they slowly begin walking again. “I’m not telling you my address.”

Spider-Man laughs as if he knows some inside joke that Ben isn’t in on. “No worries. I won’t tell the whole world.”

“I have enough unwanted people showing up.” He grumbles, and Spider-Man hums in response, adjusting his hold on him.

“So. Flight, Freeze, and Fight. Going for the so-called ‘fawn’ next?” Spider-Man recites, lifting up a finger for each word. It takes him a moment to register the joke. It wasn’t funny at all. Spider-Man doesn’t seem to understand, because he starts giggling very immaturely.

“Don’t you think you should get that checked up by a doctor? You got hit a few times.”

“Were you watching me before you decided to intervene?”

“I was checking to see if you could hold off on your own.”

Ben tries to ignore his face burning. Very clearly he had not. It was extremely difficult to act indifferent around Spider-Man when all he did was miserably fail in his presence.

“I usually fight people in my range.” He defends. Spider-Man pinches his shoulder, getting a small wince and grimace out of Ben.

“Aw, are you a rebel at school? A bully that beats up freshmen for their lunch money?”

That wasn’t funny either. “I haven’t gotten into a fight in a while.”

“You sure? I swear I just saw you—”

“You aren’t funny.” He hopes that his blunt words accompanied by a deadpan expression are enough to persuade Spider-Man to leave him alone now.

“Oh, alright, alright. Tell someone to patch you up or whatever.” Spider-Man advises as they turn into his neighborhood. “Don’t try to sleep on it. I know you’re going to.”

“What do you…” He trails off, wetting his chapped lips as Spider-Man brushes it off.

“You seem like the type.”

“I—what?”

“Nothing! But seriously, make sure Donna gets you fixed up!” Spider-Man suddenly stops and lets go of him, propping him against a light post as he shoots out a web to latch onto a nearby building, swinging off. “Catch you later, Ben!”

“...weirdo.” He sighs, and as he stumbles back towards his house, he comes to a startling realization.

Ben had never mentioned that he had a sister. Much less her name.

…

Donna was still out, and his mom had gone to sleep early that night. There was dinner on the stove that he would get to. Later. Spider-Man was right about one thing: he had to ‘patch himself up’ before he went to bed. Just not…professionally. Or with any help.

He walks into this living room first, grabbing the box of band-aids from a drawer in the coffee table before retreating to his room. He rubs his eyes, flicking on the light before being met with an extremely red-faced Ricky sitting at his desk.

“...what the hell are you doing?”

“Just chilling. Didn’t realize you’d be out late. I was waiting forever.”

Somehow, Ben doesn’t believe that. “Were you doing fucking push-ups or something?”

“Ha, you know me so well. It’s like we really have a connection.” Ricky grins, running his fingers through his hair before frowning. “Woah, Brookie. What happened to you? Get beat up by a couple of street thugs?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Pretty much.”

The response he gets is a judging stare, and then the other boy sighs loudly and leans back. “I thought we really had something, but here you are. Getting into fights with other guys. What happened to us?”

“Shut up.” He rummages around in his drawers. The bandages from his first near miss with death were still pretty full, but he held onto ointment in his own room. His hands are a bit sore and he feels like every movement he makes causes a sharp pain to erupt in his body.

“Seriously, Brookie, what’d you get beat up for?” Ricky asks, standing up and moving so that they were standing together.

“Some guys trying to mug Lola. Wasn’t too bad.” He murmurs, grabbing the ointment and squeezing out a small bead onto his finger and rubbing it onto the parts of his face that hurt most.

“Is that really the only thing you’re going to do to fix it?”

“It isn’t even that bad. I’ll sleep on it, and if it still hurts, I’ll bandage it.” Clearly, he remembers another voice warning him not to do just that. Whatever. It’s not like he’s going to know, or that Ben cares what he thinks.

“Nah, come on. I’ll show you how I fixed my extremely minor injuries that came from you.” Ricky decides, grabbing Ben by the arm and pulling him over to the bathroom.

“What? What? No, what the fuck, I don’t need it.” He complains, before catching sight of himself in the mirror with forming bruises and oozing cuts and decides that maybe he doesn’t want to look like this all night.

Just because he’s started to get along with Ricky, he begrudgingly sits down on the toilet seat as Ricky starts rummaging through the cabinets.

“There’s a kit in the second drawer. Don’t be too dramatic about it.”

Ricky grins. “Alright, doctors need their patients to be quiet when they’re being nursed back to life.”

“I’m not dying. And you aren’t my doctor.”

“I could be a nurse.”

He scoffs as Ricky brings out the small medical kit, opening it and looking impressed. “Looks like you haven’t got into more fights. Way to end the streak.”

“Shut up.”

“Nu uh. You’re the one who has to shut up. I’m here to be a medic. Medics know best.”

His response is cut off by Ricky clamping his hand on Ben’s mouth, so he just frowns and decides that Ricky isn’t worth communicating with anyway.

It falls unusually silent, with Ricky wiping off the half-assed ointment on his face to instead poke at it and actually properly rub it into his skin. For once in their lives, the touch is actually…strangely gentle. Every move felt delicate and precise, as if one wrong move would disturb the peace and ruin the comfortable air surrounding them.

It’s a weird feeling, being handled so softly in a way that only…only Lola had ever done before. He isn’t sure if he likes it or not, and he resists the urge to squirm under that touch. Even the sounds felt subdued so as to fit the environment around them. Ricky’s steady breathing and the rustling of wrappers feel far away. Had Ricky’s eyes always been that color?

Augh, get yourself together, Ben. He forces himself to push those thoughts out of his head. They didn’t mean anything. He was thinking nonsense because, well, maybe he had gotten a concussion or something.

He isn’t sure how much time is passing. He can feel each injury slowly start to hurt less and less, his hands wiped clean and his face bandaged up. Ricky had long since stopped saying anything.

Ben wonders if this is how it felt to be cared for by someone who wasn’t required to.

Again with those stupid ideas. This was nothing more than blackmail, probably. Ricky would hold this over his head for years to come just to get his way.

And yet the way that he acts seems to be the opposite. He had never seen Ricky look so concentrated on anything before. It almost seems like he cares.

He probably does. But it feels weird to think about. When he pictures people who care about him, he sees Donna first. Brady, Lola, his mom. Ricky was never going to be there a year ago. But he suddenly is, materializing near the front with his friends and Ben realizes that maybe he’s been forcing his opinion of Ricky to stay put from all those months ago.

Ricky’s thumb is brushing over his bottom lip. He had busted it sometime during his fight, and he fights the urge to dart out his tongue and wipe away the blood. Ricky does it for him, and it doesn’t sting.

It feels…good. It’s almost like a shock, but it pains him in a way that he isn’t sure is pain at all. His eyes lock onto Ricky’s, and then it starts to make sense.

Discreet looks in the hallways. A hand resting somewhere on him at all times. Teases and jokes and jests that were either mocks or flirts. Their legs brushing against each other under the covers.

He isn’t sure who starts leaning in first. All he can tell is that they’re both closer than before to a point where he can feel Ricky’s breath fanning over his face, and suddenly—

“Ben?!”

Just as quickly as they had inched together, the two of them spring apart, Ricky leaping to his feet with bright cheeks and Ben covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, his eyes flickering towards the door.

It’s Lola. Of course. He had told her that he would meet her at their usual place near the park, and he had totally forgotten and gone back home instead. Stupid.

He quickly gets up and pushes the door open, speeding towards the door and trying to calm his racing heart. He had almost kissed Ricky Collins.

And he actually wanted to.

He forces himself to stop thinking about that once Lola comes into view. Beside her is Donna, looking equally worried. He thanks any deity above that they hadn’t immediately gone into his room.

“Oh, you’re okay!” Lola breathes out in relief, surging forward before pausing when she sees the damage. “Right?”

“Perfectly fine. They didn’t get any bad hits on me.” He reassures, and Lola takes that as an answer as she wraps her arms around him. Huh. It had been a while since they’ve done that.

“Are you always so stupid?” Donna cries, hitting him upside the head. “Brady and I are coming back and Lola runs up to us saying that you’ve gone missing!”

“You weren’t where you said to meet up, and when I went back to the alley the police were there but you weren’t. I was afraid that an ambulance had taken you to the hospital.” Lola explains, taking a step back.

Donna grabs his hand and leads him further inside. “Now, call Brady and tell him that you’re okay and he doesn’t have to ask the hospital staff if you’ve been admitted. He ran all the way there!”

Admittedly, he does feel really bad for worrying everyone, so he dials Brady’s number and makes sure that he knows that he’s alright.

“Really freaked me out, dude.” Brady had laughed it off, thankfully. He said that he had to make it home because his mom was expecting him, but he’d drop by in the morning.

“What happened?” Donna pressed, forcing him to sit down on the couch after Lola had thanked him a hundred times over. “I mean, no offense, but two guys? Against just you?”

Ben isn’t sure whether to lie or not. He resorts to a little twisted version of the truth.

“I was handling it well enough. Spider-Man showed up and I just…slipped away. I was bandaging myself up in the bathroom when you guys came back. I didn’t mean to scare Lola, I really just forgot that I told her that I’d find her,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as Donna begins to smile. He knows that look.

“So Spider-Man has saved you twice now? Still not optimistic?”

Three times. But there was no way he was going to tell her that he lied about the store. “Whatever. He’s probably the reason I’m getting into all of this trouble.”

Donna laughs, and she hugs him before forcefully sending him off to bed. “Try not to die in your sleep because you failed to tell me that you’re concussed.”

“I’m not.” He protests, but he moves towards his room and closes the door slowly behind him. It’s then that he remembers the full extent of what happened in the bathroom, and he’s almost afraid to look towards the bed. He takes a breath, but when he faces it…nothing.

There was no way Ricky was still in the bathroom…right?

Just to make sure, he goes back to look inside, pulling back the curtain and checking behind the doors. Nothing. He returns to his room and looks around anywhere that Ricky might have him. Under the bed, behind the desk, in the closet. Nothing. He even opens his window and hisses out his name. Nothing.

He was gone.

Ben couldn’t remember a singular night recently that Ricky hadn’t been sleeping by him. He keeps his window slightly open and lays down on his side of the bed. It felt a bit cold and empty, like something was missing. Like Ricky.

He needed to stop stressing. Ricky would probably be back soon. He needs the rest so that he isn't a zombie in the morning, so he closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind. It’s not that easy, with a large variety of scenarios running through his head.

Time passes. He opens his eyes every once in a while to glance at the clock. No Ricky. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but he finds himself unable to sleep. What if he was sleeping outside because he thought that Donna and Lola were inside? What if he had left because of their almost…

Oh, shit.

That had to be the case. There was no way it wasn’t.

Ben doesn’t sleep at all that night.

Ricky doesn’t come back that night.

—

The morning after was a lot worse.

Maybe that was an understatement. It was horrible. He stays in bed the entire night and yet doesn’t even get a wink of sleep. He’s absolutely exhausted and he wants nothing more than to let himself be carried away into a realm of extremely wild dreams that will make no sense to him in the morning, but nothing happens.

To top it off, he had completely glossed over the fact that his mom was probably going to see him all messed up. Again. Just like every week at middle school. He could pretend to sleep in, but he was unbelievably hungry after forgetting to eat dinner. And his mom would be on him for that as well.

He can hear the clanging of pots in the kitchen paired with Donna’s voice recounting her night with Brady. He slowly pulls himself out of bed and tries not to fall over.

Yeah, no. Absolutely not. He could ask Donna to bring him breakfast or something. He pulls himself into the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face, taking a few breaths before brushing his hair to get any knots out.

Vaguely, he can hear footsteps approaching his room, and he mentally prepares himself for it being his mom. He moves towards the door and swings it open.

It’s Donna. “Hey. Mom made pancakes.” She knows that they might get into an argument over his injuries. But food sounds good right now. Maybe it’ll help him fall asleep.

He pushes himself to walk beside his sister before he makes his appearance in the kitchen. “Oh, good, Ben, I was just—”

His mom cuts herself off, her lips parting as she turns around to face him. “Ben? What happened to you?”

Please don’t freak out. He wouldn’t be able to take it right now. “There were some guys bothering Lola last night.”

That wasn’t the right thing to say. Her expression morphs from worried to surprised to anger within moments.

“Ben, you can’t keep doing this! I’m tired of my son coming back home all battered up like everyone’s punching bag. You’re always angry and getting into fights and claiming that it’s for the better of others, especially recently! It’s always the other person’s fault. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you were lying. You’ve already used the excuse of Lola before, and you’re telling me that it’s happened again? Why are you so reckless with your life?”

He stays silent. If he says anything now, she’ll only explode more. But he can’t stand the idea that she thinks he’s lying. “You can go ask Lola yourself. Hell, ask Donna or Brady—”

“I don’t care! Do you have no regard for your life? First it was the car accident, and now this. Doesn’t it matter to you how many people you’re hurting because you can’t care enough about yourself? If your story is true, why not call the police or just run?”

He opens his mouth. His mom cuts him off again.

“Can’t you be anything like Donna? She always resolves everything the right way. She doesn’t ever come back beaten up or with detentions and suspensions. How will you ever secure your career if the only thing on your record is being violent? You aren’t a damn dog, Ben. What would your father think?”

“Mom—” Donna tries, standing between them with a pained expression.

“Did you know about this, Donna? Did you know he came home like this?”

He couldn’t take any of this anymore. He turns on his heel and storms back to his room, slamming the door shut. He blocks out any noise of yelling for him to come back and ignores the stinging in his eyes as he fully opens the window and steps out onto the fire escape. He hadn’t done this in years, but it never hurt to bring back old coping methods.

He climbs up the side, gritting his teeth and mumbling curses under his breath as his vision blurs, pulling himself up onto the roof. He was tired of being berated. He wasn’t a dog. He wasn’t violent. He was just Ben.

He sits on the edge with his legs dangling over the edge, cursing himself as he furiously wiped tears from his eyes. It wasn’t fair. He was a good person. He…was a good person. He had only been getting angry recently for completely valid reasons, so why couldn’t she just understand that?

A harsh wind blows, whipping against his skin in a biting manner. He hadn’t even had time to change out of his sleepwear.

“Something on your mind?”

The voice comes from behind him, startling him so wildly that his heart jumps and in an attempt to face the opposite way, his grip on the building slips and he tumbles off the edge.

His only thought is shit. He was going to die now, in such a pathetic way. He should have known not to sit so close to the edge, he can imagine his mom saying.

Instead, something latches onto his chest and he’s pulled back up, flying straight into Spider-Man’s outstretched arms. Ben hits him hard, and they both tumble onto the ground with pained grunts.

“Damn. Didn’t think that one through.” Spider-Man mumbles. This was the worst day ever. Ben couldn’t think of any day worse than this.

“Why the hell are you here?” Ben shoves himself off of the floor, wiping the last evidence of tears from his face with an angry expression.

“No reason. Just patrolling around. You know, when I mentioned your reaction cycle,, I didn’t mean for you to circle back and try actual flight. But hey, I actually caught you later, huh?”

The joke still wasn’t funny. Neither was the second one. But for some reason, the scoff that escapes his lips sounds like a stifled laugh. Spider-Man seems to take pride in his, sitting back and propping himself up with his hands behind him. “So…what’s got you so upset?”

He didn’t want to say anything. He wasn’t about to trauma dump on Spider-Man of all people, but the idea of talking about stuff like this to…Donna for example seemed a lot scarier. Talking to a stranger that he wouldn’t have to see the actual face of or interact with daily had less consequence. No pitiful looks at school. No regular check-ins at home. Over the last few months, he had grown comfortable enough to talk to Spider-Man about minor things. So in a moment of pure impulse, he starts talking.

“My mom is just…she’s overbearing sometimes. She’s convinced there’s something wrong with me. My behavior. She claims that it stems from something about my dad being gone. It doesn’t even make sense. One day she’ll love me and support me through everything, and the next she doesn’t even want to look at me because I’m not my sister’s copy.”

Spider-Man doesn’t say anything. It feels awfully great to let it out. To put words to the feelings that he’s experiencing. All that frustration seems to lessen when he forces it out. So he continues talking.

“It’s not like I’m purposefully trying to get on her nerves or anything. I’m just being myself, but it feels like that’s the very thing that she hates, and I have no idea why. She gets mad because I get into fights, but I hadn’t done that up until recently. She doesn’t bring that up, either. She doesn’t care when I do anything right, but the moment I mess up she makes it seem like that’s the only thing that I’ve ever done.”

He takes a few deep breaths, running a hand down his face and swallowing thickly. “I haven’t fought with Ricky since…forever, but she doesn’t even care about that.”

Spider-Man pipes up. “Ricky? Do you—did you have a usual guy you would fight?”

“I had a usual guy who’d piss me off.” Ben huffs.

“What changed with him, then? If you’ve stopped?”

“I don’t know. I guess we just came to terms with the fact we were more compatible than we thought. It’s not like we’re best friends or anything now. We don’t hang out with each other at school. But he’s…whatever. I don’t know.”

Spider-Man doesn’t say anything. Ben rethinks their last interaction. He thinks about the look in Ricky’s eyes and the way that he had touched him, and suddenly he thinks that he understands.

“I don’t even know how I feel about him. I mean, I guess I do, but I don’t think there’s a word for it. He’s infuriating, and stupid, and annoying, and he still makes me mad and I think about beating some sense into him sometimes. It feels like I still hate him.” Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks Spider-Man actually flinches.

He takes a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But it’s like…he cares, which is so weird because he never would have done that back when we first met. He’s actually nice sometimes, and he remembers things about me, and he knows what to say and what not to say. He’s like some sort of omnipresent anchor or something. And then we—” he cuts himself off, swallowing thickly before continuing, “got closer. It’s like he lets himself be vulnerable enough around me because he trusts me. I’m not used to that.”

He barely registers the fact that there’s another person with him. It feels like he’s coming to a realization all on his own. It was the feeling that he wished that he had with Lola. It was what he had tried convincing himself that he felt towards any popular actress or girl on the street.

“But it’s a good feeling. I don’t hate it. I don’t hate him. I think…I like him. In all the ways possible. I’ve never really felt that way around anyone before. Not Lola. It wasn’t like this with her, and I don’t even know if this is how it’s supposed to be because I haven’t had anything to consult to confirm it. But I think that I really want to kiss his stupid ugly face.”

Holy shit. He really did. He wanted to kiss Ricky last night. He wanted to feel his lips and wanted to taste him. He wanted to be held and loved and he wanted it to be Ricky. Crap. This was going to end really well or really bad.

“Am I in love with Ricky Collins?” He mumbles to himself, and he can see Spider-Man slowly getting up. He wants to run back into his room and scream it off into his pillow. Instead he just stands there. In his pajamas. On top of his apartment roof. Standing with Spider-Man.

“I’m going to get into so much trouble…” Spider-Man says under his breath, and before he can figure out what that means, he’s pulling off his mask and oh my god Ricky—

He doesn’t get time to come to terms with the fact that Ricky had been under that mask the entire time before Ricky is cupping his face and kissing him.

The only way to describe it is unreal. He doesn’ necessarily feel grounded in any way. His head feels airy, and the pressure on his lips is the only thing confirming the fact that he was actually kissing Ricky.

His eyes widen before slowly closing, one hand holding Ricky’s neck and the other finding its way into his hair as he leans back. Ricky’s lips were unbelievably soft, and Ben subconsciously thinks about how chapped his own usually are. His grip is firm but gentle, as if any harsh movement would make him disappear. The kiss itself is slow. It’s nothing more than a press of lips and yet the fact that it’s sweet and simple is enough to make Ben want to collapse on the spot.

“What…the hell was that?” Ben asks when Ricky pulls back, their hands falling away from each other. He finds himself wishing for the warmth of them back, just like the empty bed the night before.

He definitely isn’t clear enough with what he meant, because Ricky’s eyes widen and he suddenly takes a few steps back. “Shit, did I read that wrong? I—”

In turn, Ben gapes before shaking his head. “What? No, the kiss was fine, I’m talking about you being Spider-Man.”

It all made sense now. Spider-Man’s initial surprise seeing him in the convenience store. His easy-going touch after the car crash. His knowledge of Ben’s name and Donna’s existence. Ricky constantly sweaty and flushed in his room as if he had been working out.

“Oh. That. Yeah…I got bit by a radioactive spider or something. Gave me superpowers. Pretty cool, right?” Ricky had slowly relaxed, his shoulders slumping.

“I should have known. Ugh, so you just knew everything.” Ben groans quietly, thinking about every interaction between Spider-Man and Ricky. Of course he was his own fan.

“So…so you like me. Right?” There was what seemed to be a hint of nervousness in Ricky’s question, as if confirmation was something he desperately needed.

“Yeah. I think I mentioned that.”

“Okay…cool. I like you, too.”

“Have you just been saving the city everyday?” Ben suddenly asks, and Ricky groans, taking a few steps forward.

“Brookie. I just found out that you like me back and I really want to kiss you again.” He declares, his hands coming up to rest on Ben’s shoulders.

This time, Ben can say with certainty that he had been the one to initiate it.

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