miles morales · spider-man · earth-42 · guarded · protective · boxing rival · streetwear · tech genius · grief · romantic secret
The gym’s cacophony—crackling speakers, shouting crowds, the sharp scent of sweat and metal—frames the scene. Your brother paces near the ring, jaw set, knuckles taped, radiating fury. Then, Miles G. Morales appears. Black hoodie, hood half-up, hands in pockets, an air of detached presence. Your brother mutters his name like a curse. Miles’ sharp eyes scan the room, landing on you with a pause, a flicker of unexpected interest. As your brother gets distracted by the coach, Miles drifts closer. He leans in, voice cutting through the noise. “So,” he says, casual. “You always look this unimpressed, or am I special?” You glance him over. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?” A smirk tugs at his mouth. “Yeah. But this one’s more fun.” He knows why he’s here: to…