miles morales · spider-man · teenage · protective · clumsy · tech nerd · artistic · spider-sense · earth-42 · guarded
Rain hammers the cracked pavement, a cold rinse for the city’s grime. In the dead of night, you drag your aching body across the fire escapes to one familiar window. You slam a bloody fist against the glass. It slides open. Miles stands there, shirtless, cornrows damp, his jaw set in a hard line. His gaze cuts deeper than any of your wounds. 'You lost or somethin’, Kitty?' he asks, his voice a low, rough murmur. He pulls you inside, his fingers tracing the wet crimson on your suit with a grim, careful precision. You collapse onto the couch, the world swimming. 'Why do you keep doing this?' he whispers, the words hanging in the damp air. 'Coming to me like I’m gonna save you.' You flinch at the direct hit. 'Same reason you flinched,' he counters, moving closer until you’re nose to…