Chapter Text
Gwen was staying the night in Hobie's commune.
Again.
Spider HQ did have quarters for people like her, but the walls were white and sterile and people came in and out so often they might as well not be there at all, and the whole thing was made out of metal and you wouldn’t think it would matter that much but the lack of wood and earth made something about the air inside just feel wrong.
So yeah, she preferred the commune, where people actually knew her name and she could see the same bleary eyed faces everyday when she was grabbing her coffee and yeah, she didn’t have a room of her own and if someone else needed the bed more she’d have to find somewhere else to stay for the night, but sometimes somewhere else was just Hobie’s floor so she was really not complaining.
Anyway, it was late into the night when she got back from her latest mission and she thought everyone would be asleep by now, but as she was getting ready for bed she realized she could hear music drifting out from down the hall.
She followed the sound, suspicions confirmed as she heard the comforting hum of Hobie’s voice and as she approached she started to make out the words.
Then you're left in the dust
Unless I stuck by ya
You're the sunflower
I think your love would be too much
The lyrics and the way they were sung were achingly familiar but the strum of his guitar was new to her. The melody sounded perfectly paired, but it was like a genre shifting cover of the song Miles had loved so much, without any of the original elements to the background music.
She knocked softly to announce her presence and pushed the door open. Hobie looked up at her and strummed another cord or two but it was something softer now- just something to do with his hands and to fill the air but no longer pursuing the music.
“Cute. Didn’t take you for a fuzzy-and-pink kinda girl.”
She felt her face heat up despite herself as she looked down at the borrowed pajamas. “Shut up, it was the only thing you guys had in my size.”
He shrugged as if to let it go but Gwen could tell from the grin on his face that Hobie wouldn’t be forgetting it any time soon either.
"So, your world has that song too, huh?"
His head snapped up.
"You've heard it before?"
She nodded, her gaze flicking away from him as if he wouldn't be able to see the flash pain in her eyes if she couldn't see his. "Miles used to love that song. Well, it wasn't exactly the same, but the lyrics are spot on."
“Huh.”
--
This was stupid.
Hobie was slinking around 1610 wearing plain black clothes with his hair under wraps to give him a level of inconspicuousness he normally avoided on principle, but this was a time for stealth and his normal loud and proud personality would only hinder him here.
Stuck to the side of a building, he inched around the edge until he could peek around at the dark silhouette of this dimension's native spider.
The tingling of his senses flared up as some instinct inside of him screamed they're like you and he quickly ducked back around in case Miles had picked up on it as well.
Quickly, just to be safe, Hobie dropped down from his perch and swung around to the top of a different building so he enjoy a new vantage point.
He watched as Miles glanced around suspiciously before he shrugged it off and smoothly jumped into motion. The city was quiet this evening, at least by Hobie’s standards, but Miles had no trouble keeping himself busy.
Easy enough to find some little old lady in need of help with her groceries. Easier still to get caught up chatting with her.
By the time 2am rolled around Hobie was starting to think Miles was less of a vigilante superhero and more of a neighborhood nephew. He seemed more likely to try (and fail) to help someone fix their car than he did to actually stop any villain.
When he realized the kid had set up a system where he hit up every bodega in the area to collect the hot food that was going to be thrown out at the end of the night and then made it his personal mission to hand it out to anyone on the street who might need it, Hobie had to admit he had fallen for the boy a little bit right then and there.
Something about Miles drew him in. Even from afar, even with no contact, Miles was compelling.
But was he really?
Or was Hobie just projecting?
Was Miles it? Or did he just want the answer so badly his desperation was clinging to the first shred of hope that fell into his lap?
--
Following Miles back home was simple- and really, maybe he should just go ahead and reveal himself if the kid was going to be that cavalier with his secret identity and everything.
Simple again, to come back the next day when students were in class and parents were at work and Hobie would have free reign to snoop as much as he’d like.
Even just peeking in through the window, Hobie couldn’t help the grin that tugged at him as he caught a glimpse of the chaotic mess inside. He worked the window open- unsurprised to find it unlocked, as most spider-people tended to keep it- and slipped inside to get a closer look.
Clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor, a pair of well kept shoes tucked into the corner. Piles and piles of books and binders that- upon closer inspection- seemed to include a fair amount of sketchbooks to go along with the easel that was set up to the side.
The walls too, held their own form of clutter. Posters and stickers- some of which were clearly hand made and if Hobie looked closely, he could watch the progression from the peeling, faded stickers that were obviously done by a shakier hand into the bright crisp fresh ones that were so professional looking it was almost intimidating.
So, his boy was an artist.
No, no. Not his boy.
Miles. Miles was an artist.
There was another sketchbook resting on Miles’ bedside table and Hobie felt not a shred of shame as he plopped himself on the bed and plucked it from the table.
A quick leaf through showed more of what he’d already suspected. The kid truly had a gift. The weight of his line work, the use of color, his art just felt good. It was obvious from the style of multiple pieces that Miles had an interest in graffiti and Hobie was already considering a few spots in the commune where his work would fit perfectly when he flipped the page to find a familiar face staring back at him.
Right.
The following pages revealed more of the same, with a few other spiders he recognized and a few he didn’t, what must have been a family member or two. But page after page the muse Miles kept coming back to was Gwen Gwen Gwen.
Or... Gwanda? As one of the pages had labeled her in big bubble letters.
He wasn’t jealous or anything- at least, he didn’t think he was.
Ok, maybe a little jealous that Gwen had met him and Hobie hadn’t.
But that was easily fixable. If Hobie wanted to, he could go out right then and introduce himself.
He wouldn’t, but he could.
No, rather it served as a good reminder. Poking through the kid’s things, Hobie had let himself get caught up in his own head. Forgot the reality of the situation.
One last thing before he left though. Hobie sifted through drawers, careful to leave everything exactly as he found it until he came across what he was looking for.
A little black device with a ratty pair of headphones wrapped around it. He turned it on and found the device was obviously intended for the sole purpose of listening to music. The device itself was clearly old, the scroll wheel seemed to stick, but when it did work it would shoot several paces forward with just the slightest click. It didn’t matter though, to Hobie, it was a treasure trove.
He scrolled through till he found a song he thought he might recognize- Sunflower.
The beat came in nicely, the soft tune fitting the poorly sung one he had heard his soulmate hum a million times and as the lyrics came in, there was no doubt in his mind that this was the song he was looking for. It was well produced, but Hobie couldn’t help but miss the raw, untrained voice of his soulmate.
It had taken Hobie over a year to piece together the lyrics from the bits and pieces his soulmate could manage at a time, and now he found some of them had clearly been misheard.
( Someone took a big- don’t know how that felt. His soulmate always said “L” but that couldn’t be it- right?)
He was singing softly with the music when his spidey senses triggered and like a flash, Hobie found himself on the ceiling crowding up against the door with the little music player left abandoned on the bed still playing at full volume.
The door opened slowly, a woman calling out “Miles?” as she entered the room.
The woman looked around suspiciously, before discovering the music player. She scoffed fondly and walked over to the device, quickly turning it off. All the while, Hobie was silently following behind her, watching her movements and ready at a moment’s notice. Right as she turned around to leave, he lurched forward so he remained out of sight.
Just before she left, she sent one last lingering look to the room. But Hobie had already flattened himself into the wedge made by the ceiling and the wall the door was on, and she left none the wiser.