Chapter Text
It starts off a completely normal night of patrol for Miles. He’s on his game today, they’ve stopped a few petty crimes, Peter hasn’t had to correct him at all so far. He feels good. Happy, even.
Peter’s only been letting him come out on patrols for about five months now. It was only once a week the first two months, and it never lasted more than two hours. If there’s one thing Miles has learned over the past months of him knowing Spider-Man’s identity, it’s that Peter is extremely strict when it comes to Miles’ well-being. He once made Miles recite his entire schedule to him along with all of his assigned school work just to make sure he wouldn’t be swamped when he got his Spidey assignments, and now that he’s active on patrols, he continues to receive messages about how much he should be eating, what he should be eating, and how much sleep to get to keep up with his new metabolism. It was a little overbearing, but he got used to it.
The third and fourth months of his patrols, it was less swinging around with the webshooters, and more shadowing Peter as he sought out crimes. He was strictly instructed to stay hidden everytime, and no matter how hard he fought, Peter never budged. They had alternated the days, then, some days shadowing and then the others spent on combat practice.
It was the fifth month now, and Miles was on summer break. That meant no more school, and subsequently, more patrols. They’re going out almost every night now, and it’s been amazing. Now that he doesn’t have to worry about small things like homework or school nights (Peter would argue that, no, Miles, those are not ‘small things’), they can do more on patrols.
And it turns out, Peter is actually an awesome teacher. Like, weirdly good. Miles hadn’t someone teach him physical science in a way that was so engaging and fun in, well, ever. Whether they were somewhere out of suit, or Miles had brought his homework to do during breaks on patrol, Peter always seemed more than ready to walk him through something, or be content to simply watch him work and make small comments whenever he felt the need to.
It was the same with combat training and web practice. Miles has no idea why he was ever hesitant about the idea of training with Spider-Man– not that he didn’t like Peter, but he almost felt like the guy would be a completely different person inside of the suit than he was when Miles had first met him. Which, in hindsight, was stupid, really.
It was almost like a shock when he made his first mistake during their first session of training, which had been a repeat offense of doing the exact thing Peter had been telling him not to do in hand to hand combat. For some reason, Miles just hadn’t been able to get it right, and he’d been getting more and more frustrated as the time passed on. His thoughts were running wild as they went over the same practice again, and he made the exact same misstep. Miles was about ready to combust from the building frustration when Peter finally spoke up.
“Alright, I think we should take a break.”
Miles’ heart jolted, and he immediately started talking. “Wait, wait, I promise I’ll get it the next time! I don’t know why I’m not getting it, but I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, I just, I–I don’t–I don’t know-” Peter cut him off with a light hand on his shoulder, making him jump.
“Miles, it’s okay, promise. I know you’re not doing it on purpose. I just think we should take a break, you know? Get rid of all this tension.” He was already walking to the edge of the rooftop to sit down, leaving Miles speechless.
He’s disappointed in you. Great going, Miles! You just proved to Spider-Man that you can’t even follow simple instructions. He had no choice but to sit down next to him, trying his best not to fidget, because fidgeting was childish, and this was Spider-Man. He can’t act like that around him.
Peter must have noticed the rigidness in Miles’ posture, because he turned towards him. “Miles, you’re still learning. You’re not going to get it right away.”
Miles’ Fingers started to twitch, so he shoved them into his lap. “I know that, I just… don't want to disappoint you. ”
“And you won’t, Miles. You haven’t . Like I said, you’re still getting used to all of this, and trust me when I say I wasn’t born into these skills when I got bit by that spider. I didn’t start out like this, and neither will you. It takes time.”
Miles knew that he should've just left it at that, but he couldn't help it. He said his next words with an evident frown in his voice. “Then why did we stop? I could've kept going.”
“I could tell you were getting a little frustrated–”
He opened his mouth to argue. “I–I wasn't-”
“And that's okay, Miles.” Peter's voice was impossibly gentle, and surprisingly, it actually helped calm his nerves instead of serving humiliating him further (which is what usually happened when his teachers tried to comfort him about his failures). “I get frustrated a lot too, and I know that I have to take a break every once in a while to unwind. In the end, it's all so I can come back feeling refreshed and relaxed enough so that I can do my best work.”
Miles looked down, fiddling with his hands. “Sorry… Thanks for saying that.”
Peter chuckled softly. “You don't need to apologize, Miles.” They'd ended up sitting and talking like that for another 20 minutes, and Miles only realized how helpful it had been when he returned home that night, feeling a lot better than before.
So all in all, Peter is great. More than great, actually. The patience he exhibited, the praise he gave when Miles did something right, the way he explained things and gently yet firmly corrected him when he did something wrong, even the light repercussions he dealt out whenever Miles disobeyed him, it was all so… Familial.
Miles thinks it was that night when he first started seeing Peter as something more than a mentor. He doesn't see him as his big brother or anything, even though he's an only child and couldn't really know. It almost feels… parental? Not really, not like his mom or dad. But also, a lot like that.
So, tonight, when Miles is feeling good as they're sitting on a rooftop, empty pizza box sitting discarded on the side and his summer homework now done thanks to Peter's help, he feels a warm, bubbly feeling welling up inside him. And it wasn't even spidey homework! It was plain, boring old AP calculus, yet Peter had helped him through all the most difficult equations just because Miles had asked .
Miles hadn't felt this much warmth and comfort and overwhelming feeling of safety since-since–
“Hey Miles, you good? You've been pretty quiet tonight.”
–Since his dad, he realizes. He feels the same way he felt as a kid, sitting down with his dad after bedtime hours, going over that last page of homework that he just didn't understand. His dad would warm up some microwave waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, and would call it their ‘secret treat for success’.
Peter continues, unaware of Miles’ sudden revelation. “Shoot, is it the pizza? Forgot you're still new to this, probably shouldn't be swinging home right after eating four extra large slices of meat lover’s–”
“Can I ride on your back?” It was almost comical how quickly the teen freezes up, as if those words hadn’t just come directly from his own mouth.
He had not meant to say that, like, at all. “You know, like… on the way back.” Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking.
Peter, of course, takes it seriously. “Why, are you hurt? Wait, was the pizza really that bad? We can take a cab if you need to, there's a roof with some spare clothes–”
“Not hurt,” he says, looking down at the concrete. Stop interrupting him!
“Oh. Well, then–”
“It's okay! I can swing myself, it's fine.” Miles forces an awkward chuckle, his hand gravitating towards the back of his neck. “I don't know why I said that.”
He really, really doesn’t. He abruptly drops his hands to his sides, ashamed and humiliated. He's gonna think you're so uncool and weird and clingy.
“It's okay. We can swing back on my webs if you really want to. I don't mind.”
Miles can't seem to hide the relief that came crashing over him. He looks up at his mentor tentatively, his voice small. “Really? You don't mind?”
“Not really, no.” He watches as Peter stands up, taking the pizza box with him, and promptly throws it over his shoulder. The sound as hits the bottom of a garbage bin echoes in the alley beneath them. Miles stands up as well, but doesn't get any farther than awkward shuffling as he waits for Peter to say something. His mentor, all the while, seems oblivious to his inner turmoil, stretching his arms high above his head like he does every time before he gets ready to swing. Should Miles do that too, even though he wasn’t about to be using his webs?
“Alright, you ready?” Peter asked.
“Uh, yeah. Um…” Miles shuffles forward, looking anywhere but at Peter. Why was this so awkward? Maybe it’s because you’re sixteen and asking for a piggyback ride home from your greatest rolemodel that you just realized you kinda sorta see as a parental figure.
Peter let out a huff of amusement, then calmly walks over to Miles, turns around, and in a split second the teen was hoisted unceremoniously onto his back, legs propped up around his waist.
Peter was already starting to walk to the edge of the roof, Miles in tow. “Is this good? You’ll have to hang on tight, but just don’t block my shoulders,” Peter said. The younger, on the other hand, was still stunned. His first thought is, wow , it feels really weird to be carried on the back of someone who’s only a few inches taller than you. And his second thought is, wow , this actually doesn’t feel weird at all. Being given a piggy back ride from not only Spider-Man, but Peter Parker as well, it was sure to have been mortifying in some way. Instead, it feels… good. Like he belonged here, on Peter's back as they prepared to traverse the sky on the route back home.
Miles feels really warm now, he never realized how warm Spider-man was, and comfy. Not in the sense that it did wonders on his back to be in this position or anything, but… Miles felt safe. So safe, in fact, that he felt like he could lay right here and go to sleep. Peter would take care of everything, like he always does. He’s taking Miles home, to a nice, warm bed, where he’ll be safe and loved and protected, and–
“Miles?”
“Huh?”
Peter shuffled, shifting his stance in preparation to jump. “Are you okay like this?”
Miles doesn’t even care that his voice is being muffled as he rests his head in the space between his arms and Peter’s back. He finally registers what his mentor had said, and tightens his grip around his neck and his legs around his torso. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Alrighty then, hang on tight–” The sentence drops off as he jumps from the ledge, and almost immediately shoots a web to catch them.
To be completely honest, it was a little nauseating to be at the mercy of someone else swinging. Not that Miles doesn’t trust Peter, but it definitely felt weird not being in control of your own webs when plummeting to what seems like imminent death. The ride only lasted around 10 minutes–they’d gone a little further for patrol this time–and by the time they’d reached Miles’ apartment, he was all tuckered out. There was no doubt he had fallen asleep during those last two or three minutes–or at had at least come dangerously close to it. When they land on the roof of his building, Peter probably expects him to get off and get changed so he can walk down. But Miles just feels so cozy like this. His brain feels like it’s kind of somewhere else right now.
“Uh… Miles?”
He lets out a low groan in response. His mentor gives a quiet chuckle.
“You gotta get up, bud. C’mon…” He tries for peeling Miles’ hand from around his neck instead, and Miles' sticky fingers activate almost on instinct. That wakes him up. The teen’s heads jolts up, still only half alert, and immediately tries to unstick his finger pads from Peter’s suit.
“Shoot, sorry, sorry, I don’t–” He tries to pull them off again, only for them to adhere stronger than before. “Uh–I swear it’s not usually like this. I can control it now, I swear– ugh –” He stops at the light touch of Peter’s hand tapping against his.
“Hey, it’s okay. I know the feeling. Sometimes our spidey instincts just get the better of us.”
Miles frown beneath the mask. “But I can control it, now.” His voice almost sounds like a whine because of his drousiness.
“I know, Miles. How about I take you straight to your room? You’ll probably be more comfortable in there, and it'll be easier to unstick that way.”
“What? But my mom’s home! What if she sees?”
Peter stays calm, despite Miles’ steadily growing panic. “It’s fine, Miles. We’ll go in through the window.”
“But…” Miles trails off, and Peter walks to the side of the building where he drops off the edge, sticking to the sides. The two begin to make their way down to Miles’ window, which is only two floors down from the roof, but takes longer when Peter’s trying his best not to crawl upside down with the teen on his back.
“I'll use my spidey sense to make sure no one's there, okay?”
Miles forgets sometimes that the older man's spider sense is so much more advanced than his. While Miles can only detect immediate danger, Peter can detect a much wider range of things, and can even reach out to search for danger instead of waiting for it to come to him.
True to his word, when they finally reach the window, Peter takes a second before opening it to sense his surroundings. Miles himself could only hear murmuring of the TV playing in the background, but he trusted his mentor’s abilities.
He’d also been trusting him when he said he’d be able to unstick once inside the comfort of his room, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the utter relief that washes over him. His hands unstick almost immediately, and the first thing he does is take off his mask and breathe in the warm air and the smell of his favorite food wafting in from the kitchen. Miles can feel his eyes fluttering shut, and didn’t even notice that Peter had moved near his bed, probably waiting for him to get off. Slowly, but not necessarily reluctantly, he untangles his limbs and falls gracelessly onto his sheets.
Miles hears Peter come around to the side of his bed, crouching down in front of where Miles was now sprawled out face down into his pillow.
“Tired?” Peter asks.
Miles lets out a groan in response. “Kind of…” He lifts his head to face his mentor, who still has a mask on. The embarrassment was catching up to him, now. “Sorry for all that. And–and the ride. That was weird.”
Peter continues to hold his gaze, but his masked face betrays nothing.
“Maybe unexpected, but not weird. Or unwelcome, really.”
“Oh, well. Thanks, then.”
“No problem.”
They sit in (what Miles thinks to be) an awkward silence for a while, before Peter finally speaks up.
“I’m gonna go now. Will you be fine by yourself?”
Miles is about to answer an instinctual ‘of course’, but hesitates at the last second. That warm, fuzzy feeling hadn’t gone away since they arrived, and now, the younger hero almost feels a slight panic with the thought of older leaving. He can’t stay, of course. Peter had things to do! And plus, his mom could be back any minute.
“Um, could you actually…”
Peter pauses, not even half way to his feet. He looks back at Miles, his mask still expressionless. “Yeah?”
“Stay… until I fall asleep? Sorry, I know–”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Peter interrupts him smoothly, not even letting him finish his sentence. Despite the mask, Peter's voice is soft, now. There's a strange buzz in the back of Miles’ mind, much like his spider-sense, but instead of screaming danger, it feels like a million tiny little spiders are jumping for joy at the prospect of his mentor staying.
Peter took Miles home on his back, swung them to his burrow, and now he's staying until Miles falls asleep. He’s safe. He’s content. He’s happy. Despite his intent, Miles can’t help but smile. “Thanks, man.” Nuzzling back down into the pillows, he curls up into the most comfortable position. Next to him, he can feel Peter shuffling around until, suddenly, he feels a blanket being wrapped around him.
Neither of them say anything as Peter quietly continues making Miles into a human burrito. Despite all the jostling, his protégé doesn’t even mind. If anything, it makes him feel safer to be wrapped up in a tight little cocoon, which shouldn’t even make sense, being that its actually limiting his movement in the case that there was danger.
But there won’t be any danger, as long as Peter’s here.
When Miles wakes up an hour later to the sound of the front door opening, Peter is already long gone.
He thinks that might’ve been the best sleep he's had since his dad died.