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Chapter Text

This is kind of awkward to say the least... He doesn't expect to wake up from his most awaited nap, standing in the middle of what he guess, spider-people, surrounding him from each direction. Looking every decree of exhausted, burdened, grieving and guilty. It took him a while to finally moved and scanned the crowd and finally settling on one person. There, standing up in the elevated platform is his husband, Miguel O'Hara.

For a moment, he thought that he was dreaming. So of course he doesn't take this seriously. He's been very sleep deprived lately, so maybe a dream of the past is bound to make an appearance. He just doesn't expect to be dreaming of the moment his life changed forever.

Miles released a heavy breath he didn't know he was holding when he realised that they're waiting for his reaction. That's when it clicked in his head. Oh. This was when they told him that he had to let his father died. The day he rebelled and ran and proved them all wrong. Fighting tooth and nails for his rights as a spider-man.

Still thinking it's a dream, Miles naively spoke his most awaited answer. "Sure. Why not?"

Various spider-sona flinched or tensed or both. Staring at him in disbelief and incredulousness. Shocked and slightly disturbed. Maybe a bit suspicious at his sudden change of emotion. Miguel's eyes widened slightly, mouth almost dropping open, before his expression smoothen into its once hardened glare. It was fleeting. It was a breeze. Yet, Miles noticed it anyway. It's hard not to notice his husband's littlest shift in expression, they've been married for years and been through high and low gripping each other's hands tightly. It's kind of hard not to snicker at his husband's disturbed and confused flick of eyes, carefully kept behind indifference mask as the bigger man gazes him up and down.

But well, as much as he loves the attention and kind of disoriented, Miles is exhausted and he wants to sleep. Or well, a nap is good too.

"Great, if that's settled, can I go back now? I'm exhausted, and I need some rest." He drawled out absentmindedly after what felt like hours of tensed silence, but in reality only one to two minutes. He turned his body around, looking around the room, before spotting the door, he kinds of registered Peter and Gwen, looking at him in guilt and most prominent of all, disbelief. Peni is there too, sporting shock on her tired face. Hobie, his expression is closed off, but Miles knows the glint of disappointment in his eyes. It rings alarm bells in his head, but he really wants to go home and sleep. And maybe woke up from this dream.

Before he could take a step though, the device that Miles forget the name of, slide beneath him, entrapping him in. Red barrier surrounded him, and he, for the lack of better words, snorted. His Miguel would know that this trap doesn't work on Miles. The purple one works better, although it still couldn't fully contain him if he uses his full blast, but it never came to that because they've never found a reason to lock him up again. (And it's purple because Miles ask for it, and his husband only grumbled and present it to him the next month when the prototype is finished.)

"I don't know what you're planning, kid. But I won't let you fool me. Better be safe than sorry." Miguel's voice rings out behind him, making him turn back towards his husband. His voice is so soothing, and Miles might have smiled and gives the man a kiss, if not for the underlying guilt and resolve hidden very deep beneath the cold and professional tone of it.

Peter and Gwen sprang out then, protesting against his imprisonment. Mayday cherubic face scrunched up in a frown, knowing that something is not right, spidey sense tingling unpleasantly.

Miles, weighed with a bone deep weariness and various nights of sleep deprivation, finally succumbed to his exhaustion. Crumpling down as his eyes flutter close, body unceremoniously slumped against the red barrier, breathing slowing into a relaxed exhale and inhale.

He wasn't really concerned. He knows that his husband would make sure to keep him safe and kiss him goodnight.

Miles barely noticed the frightful yelp and shout, concerned voice begging for Miguel to turn off the device. He barely noticed that his body is a teen again, lanky and thin, finger missing his ring and wrist bare of his favorite bracelet of sunflower pendant and his gizmo. Barely noticed the red tendrils that slowly fades away from his skin underneath his old suit.

Finally free, he slept peacefully, unaware of the past he returned to.

Chapter Text

When Miles return to, he was in the medbay. He'll panic, if he isn't used to it. The ceiling a familiar sight he always woke up to whenever he was injured badly enough to warrant a visit to the medbay. What's not familiar however, is Spider Ma'am sitting on her rocking chair in the corner, knitting a sweater. That wasn't a shocking sight long ago. But Miles had attend her funeral himself, alongside other various spider-sona years ago. He stares blankly at her. Before he finally feels the aching stings in his heart at seeing her again.

Him and Aunt May aren't that close. But they're familiar enough to call each other by names instead of their heroes name. Close enough to trade baked goods and handmade trinkets with each other. With the amount of time she had patch him and his husband up and monitor them back to good health, Miles could safely says that they are close enough to give each other's cheeks a kiss without batting an eye.

This dream is too good to be true. Is what he would say. Because Miles had figured out, somewhere in his staring, that this is not a dream, if the hustle and bustle outside of the medbay, muffled as it was, were anything to go by. It felt too real for it to be a dream, and Miles had already dealt with multiple anomalies to know which is reality and which is not.

With a sigh, he sat up on the bed, his legs dangle briefly off the bed before stepping his foot on the floor and standing up. Groaning when a headache bloomed in his head. "Aunt May, where's the bathroom?" He grumbled, rubbing his face and blink away the last bit of sleep from his eyes. He doesn't need to ask, he already knows. But, it will be suspicious for a newbie like him to suddenly walk out and walk around the base familiarly. That will make his situation worsen.

Spider Ma'am smiled gently, looking up from her project to answer. "It's just down the hall, dear." She puts away the needles and yarn, standing up from the rocking chair and walk to the monitor near the desk on her station. "I suggest you don't try to run. Many are informed of your presence already, and will immobilised you. I just hope you're smart enough not to do that, sweetheart." She type away in her monitor, before walking to the door. Smiling that same gentle smile of hers. Beckoning Miles to follow. 

Miles would have made a small joke regarding that, if he's not really in need of a piss right now. He also noticed the underlying warning in her voice. Not a threat. Just simply warning him that that would happen should he try to run. He's not really worried of his escape though. He done it multiple times, what's one more?

He follow after Spider Ma'am, walking behind her, matching her pace so she doesn't have to matched his. Strong as she is with her spider powers, she is still an old lady. And his mamì raised him better than that. She would pinched his cheek if he ever let an elderly people be burdened by something as insignificant as trying to match a youngsters youthful steps.

It was silent, with mainly Spider Ma'am pointing out various room, vending machines and water dispensers should he ever felt thirsty or hungry, to which Miles would just nod along or reply with short, but polite, response, passing by multiple spider-sona every few seconds or so. 

When they reach the bathroom, Miles couldn't help it. Grip by nostalgia, and a bit of heartache, he hug the lady. Slowly stretching out his arms and asking her if it's okay to hug her. When she only smiled warmly and open her arms, Miles didn't hesitate then, gently hugging her and holding her tight. It was warm. So warm, that he couldn't hold back the tears stinging his eyes. It lasted for a few minutes before his need to pee flared again, urgent. With a low grumble he parted from the hug, cracking a wobbly smile. Aunt May only smile softly at him and patted his arms.

If it was Miles, he would have hugs her for hours, but alas, he couldn't ignore his essential need. So, with a soft thank you and another quick hug, Miles enter the bathroom.

It was a relief when his bladder is finally empty, flushing the toilet and washing his hands on the sink. It was then that he finally takes in his appearance on the mirror, staring weirdly at it. His teen self is slim, with barely any muscles. Hair still the messy afro fade that he sported once he was young. Well, he is young now. Again. But, eh. He'll missed his high-top dreadlocks fade, but that's okay. If he has time after settling this 'canon' event, he'll beg Miguel to pay for his hairdo. They're not married now, but that doesn't mean he won't make that bastard life a living hell (affectionately).

The corner of his eyes is missing its deep crow feet's wrinkles. His smile lines is also missing. Eyebags, scars and piercings, they're all missing. His hand absentmindedly brush against his right upper hip, where he knows the 'O'Hara' tattoo is missing. The teen sighed, disappointed. It took a long time for him to finally gather his courage to tattoo a permanent proof of his commitment to his husband, which could have been disastrous if their married went to shit. Thankfully, it never did. Arguments still happens, but it never went to shit and he never regret getting it. And the feral look in his husband's eyes when he saw it is worth it. The vicious bite over the tattoo, that took a suspicious amount of time to heal despite his quick spidey healing, is also worth it.

With just that thought, it's enough to set him horny. Which would be a really hard time, given that he's getting old and isn't as young as he used to be. But he's a teen now. A teen with raging hormones that will take a long time to settle into a much more tame one. (Though, him and Miguel are never tame with each other and always pushing the limit each time. That's not to say that he doesn't love the gentle, toe-curling and slow sex that his husband and him indulge in lazy nights. He loves it just as much.)

Fuck. He can't walk around like this. Sporting a boner that is visible for anyone to see. He'll be mortified. And also, wasn't he, kinda in a relationship with Gwen in this time? He isn't sure, but he'll figure it out. He just hope that whatever they have is already fragile enough for him to lay it down and cover it with a blanket. Forever asleep, but fine and intact.

There's so much to think about, but one thing at a time. It's the agreement that he enforced in Miguel and himself, to stop each other from burning out and over thinking. Because Miguel, his lovable and sweet husband, is woefully a workaholic and an overthinker. It's good for strategic and planning, but sometimes, he'll get too far and spiral and shutting himself off from the others. Not to mention his social ineptitude and habit of dismissing his own feelings as invalid.

Mikes sigh more loudly, finally getting his boner down. He'll get his husband, or well, future-husband, to open up to him much more earlier this time. Maybe they'll fall in love again, only Miguel this time, and they'll go to various dates and fuck and get married.

But he knows it'll be a pain in the ass, since Miguel is a proper man. Miles had to wait for 7 years. 7, to finally get engaged to that hulking beast of a man. Another year to finally get married. Granted, he's already graduated and old enough to finally be seen dating older man without everyone batting an eye and calling the cops on them. In this case, his father. His husband— future-husband, simply wanted to take thing slow, not wanting to force himself on Miles and seems like a groomer.

Maybe he is, maybe not. But Miles will, damn sure, make Miguel fuck him early this time. He's done it Miguel way, now it's his turn. He'll get married young, and makes his future-husband fucked him senseless in their marital bed.

Fuck. He's horny again. Teenagers these days.

With another loud sigh, Miles active his invisibility. Carefully prying of the vent in the bathroom open, before sliding in. His mask is missing, probably in Peter hold or Gwen. High stakes it's in Gwen possession. Out of guilt maybe. But, he already forgave her for that stunt years ago, hours ago now. It's hard to be mad for something he's already gotten over, and he'll make sure to tell her that when he retrieve his mask from her.

But, right now, he has a man he has to chase and make his husband. 

Chapter Text

Miles didn't really need to wander too much, or get lost, in this vent. He literally been here, crawling away many times to the point he can confidently crawl with his eyes closed and never getting lost as he goes to his destination. His body doesn't have the muscles memory, but his memories is carefully still intact, unlike his precious husband, who is already forgetting stuff. Which is quite impressive given his old age. Probably the spider's genes in his dna. But it's not that sever, merely forgetting where he put his stuff or forgetting he already makes his tea before making another one.

There's nothing he can do about it. It's just part of the aging. A part of life. They both had live a harsh, but good life. They both are satisfied. They both could die at any given moment in their line of work. But, well... It's still hard to think that his husband will die before him. Wrinkles deep and pronounced on his face, not a single strand of hair his lovable shades of brown.

Though, he may have wrinkles and his hair is not as thick and voluptuous as it used to be, Miles still love his husband with all his heart. It's not like you can reject a hot dilf. Or gilf. His husband is handsome, no matter what. Even if he's losing his muscles mass as he aged, it doesn't take away the redness of rubies in his irises, his silvery locks of hair that still very soft to the touch. Quite charming if Miles said so himself.

But, gahh. He's getting distracted. He doesn't even know if this is temporary or permanent. He hopes it's both. Live this life, and then, go back to his previous one. Sounds very tempting. He just hopes that luck is on his side this one.

Finally arriving at his destination, he rest for a moment. Being a teen again makes his control on his invisibility much more sloppy and messy. So he recuperate for a few minutes, before resuming his invisibility and opening the vent, carefully dropping it down with his web before climbing down slowly himself.

From here, it's walk time, baby.

It doesn't take long. With Miles knowing where to go and invisibility coming in clutch, he arrived at his future-husband lab. Probably tinkering, or observing another set of dispatch mission. Or maybe both. Miles slow his breathing, and control his heart rate, knowing Miguel is sensitive like that. He step into the lab, noting that Margo and Jess is also there, conversing quietly on the bottom, whilst Miguel is up on his platform, typing away on his monitors.

He held in a fond sigh, part exasperated at his future-husband overworking tendencies. Carefully stepping closer to the platform, footsteps near silent, he jumped and landed softly on his feet. Miguel tense, turning around abruptly, gracefully. Like a cat. Silent, but deadly. Eyes scanning the platform he's on, narrowing as he scanned and listened, sharpening his senses.

When he hears the heartbeat of another, he whipped around, coming face to face with Miles, who's leaning at the desk absentmindedly, staring at Miguel curiously.

There's only silence. With the older man narrowing his eyes into a deadly glare. From outsiders perspective. Miles already knows his future-husband's littlest quirks, to know that his husband is just cautious and wary. Not quite hostile, just a precautions.

Miles tilt his head to the side, before turning to look at the monitor on the various spiders on a mission, cleaning up Spot's mess.

"Aren't you tired?" The teen muttered out quietly, just wanting the older man to hear him, to look at him and give him his full attention. It's no use anyway. His voice echoes in the vast space, alerting the other two in the room. While Miguel, only tensed further. Gaze glinting with suspicions and rightful wariness.

"You're not supposed to be here." The man voiced out. Voice firm and commanding. Not at all quiet. Shifting slightly to cross his arms in front of his chest. Which, Miles pointedly ignored, cause he has something he needs to say, and if he's caught ogling, they'll never treat him seriously. 

Miles kept his gaze on the monitors, shifting from one screen to another. "I tried to go back. You didn't let me." He scoffed out. Merely in amusement. But perhaps the older spider took it as sarcasm, if the way his jaw clenched tight is any telling.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Miguel gritted out, smoothing his breath into something smoother and controlled. "You should be in the medbay, with Spider Ma'am monitoring you." He dropped his hands then, taking a step forward and pushing Miles away from the console he's leaning on.

Miles let himself be pushed away, before plopping himself down on the man's chair, pulling his knees to his chest as he curled around himself on Miguel's chair. Ignoring the sideway glare the handsome man direct to him.

So cautious and skittish this man is. He needs to loosen up. Miguel went back to whatever he's doing, while Miles just sat on the chair, staring at the man's ass.

It was silent for a while, with the man working on his monitors, and the other two in the bottom continuing their conversation, although much more husher than before. Miles let his gaze wander when he's satisfied staring at Miguel's ass, already feeling the telltale signs of a boner popping up. Teen hormones...

While his gaze wandered, it settled on one inconspicuous small monitor. Miles is of course, very familiar with it. Has seen it multiple times. Had even helped his husband, until he finally didn't need to rely on it again.

"Isn't it time for your Rapture shot?"

Chapter Text

Miguel turn his head towards Miles so quickly that they could hear the audible 'crack', the sound reverberating throughout the whole space. It doesn't seem broken, thankfully.

"What did you say?" Miguel grits out dangerously. His voice caught between a growl and a whisper. The red glint in his eyes more prominent. Body tense and coiled tight as if to pounce.

Miles ignored it though. Instead, his one of his hands pointing at the small screen. "It says today's date. Rapture shots." The teen helpfully answered, blinking slowly as he let his gaze absentmindedly trails the letter and numbers, showcasing dates and doses of Rapture to be taken. Ah... How nostalgic. He squinted his eyes at the small monitor. There's also the upcoming stabiliser shot. Something that his future-husband needs to keep his spider side under control.

The older man shift his gaze to the monitor, before promptly shutting down the monitor. He then turned away from Miles, pinching his the bridge of his nose as he close his eyes and tried to calm himself down. "It's rude to snoop around, kid." He gritted out.

If it was Miles from this tim, he would have vehemently denied of being called a kid. Would send a snarky reply back at the man. But, now, he's just amused, and feeling fond at the man in front of him. He's also miss feeling like a kid again. "It's not snooping around when it's in clear view. Also, there's nothing to do while I wait for my father's death." He drawled out, blinking slowly as his gaze found itself staring at Miguel's back.

If Miguel was tense before, now he's even more tenser.

Miles know what that man is feeling right now. Guilt and grief. Hidden behind the many layers of determination, acceptance and resolution. Heart hardening to ensure he never falter in his duty. It's a heavy job, and a much more harder decision. It's weighing heavily on his shoulders, yet he can't crumble. Miles knows, behind closed door, this man will weep for those that he cannot, and failed, to save. It claws at his heart, cracking and chipping its hardened exterior. Leaving dents and imperfections. Others wouldn't noticed, thinking that he is indifferent and quick to move on. Judging him, envied him. Hell, Miles had been one of them. Until he sees beyond the armour, sees the fragile interior, the broken pieces that Miles had painstakingly put back together.

That day, when he witness Miguel crying for the first time, crushed by his own hands, failing the entire multiverse, and the trust of the entirety of the Society, when he realised his fragile theory is malleable and not as sure as he had forced everyone to believe, Miles know then. That this man, is just as human as everyone else. As grief stricken as anyone else. As flawed and imperfect as everyone else. He makes mistakes. He loses those he cherished. He cried, and he smiled.

Miles make the decision. To help eased this man's burdened. To shoulder it alongside him.

It was heavy, it was harsh. The retaliation. The rejection. The distrust. But Miguel carry it all with his back straight, with his head held high, with his heart crumbling. Yet he stands. And that something Miles admires. Miles adores. Miles loves. Still do.

When the entire multiverse needs him, he never hesitate to reach out and lend his help. When the entire multiverse rejects him, he still reach out and lend his help. So selfless. So, so—

Miles loves him. He really do. It was hard to get Miguel to open up about his pain. To let himself be help. Miles tried and tried, with many failed attempts. Miguel is so patient, something that Miles is not. Yet, for the man, he had tried.

So, just as patient as he was once, he will be patient for Miguel again. Helping him, just like before. Just like how Miguel had helped him and others.

"I don't hate you. Not really. But I do hate the fact that Canon event can't be changed." Miles huffed out, watching as Miguel slowly turns to face him. That unreadable mask on his face again. Yet Miles knew that his gaze hold sympathy and guilt. So, he smiles at the man. "Maybe you should try to smile more. It'll make you look charming." The teen chuckled quietly, earning a confused and annoyed scowl from the man.

"I have no time for games, Morales." The older man sighed out, voice gruff and heavy. Eyes holding a glint of suspicion and wariness, which is, fair. But still... It kinda stings. But, oh, well. Beggar can't be choosers. At least the man is plenty accomadating and nice already, at least from this time standard. Miles let out a soft breath, while unfurling himself, stretching his body. That was that, and Miles was ready to put this conversation behind him, knowing Miguel wasn't as talkative as he was at the future. But his future-husband surprised him time and time again. "You should be resting. Your body is exhausted, and it needed its rest." The man's shoulders sagged, as if weighted by something heavy and troublesome on his shoulders. Subtle guilt and concern in his voicethat Miles was able to pick up.

Miles didn't say anything, just stares at him. Miguel squirm slightly. Hard to discern it from his usual shift of weigh from one foot to another. But Miles had years of experiences. And right now, he's embarrassed. After watching the man squirm some more, Miles finally decided to give Miguel mercy. "I will. Promise." The teen smiled, soft and perfectly vulnerable. If the older man is surprised or shocked, he hid it well. It almost make Miles feels bad, since he planned to run away later.

His dad still need saving after all.

Even if Miles had to remind himself that his dad is, in fact, still alive. Not buried six feet under with his grave still polished and bouquet of flowers changing every day, with his mamí buried right besides him.

Remembering it makes Miles felt melancholy and nostalgic, the pang that never went away since the day they passed away beat again alongside his heart. It never really disappear, but it had been easier to manage. His husband and friends is there to help him. Grief is never easy, but with help, they can lessened and be more manageable. It was a blessing that his parents died of old age, instead of killed or mauled by any criminals or anomalies.

Miguel cleared his throat, awkwardly trying to change the sudden soft atmosphere. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have work to return to." The man coughed out, going back to his console, clicking away on the buttons. Even though, he doesn't need to excuse himself to do work in his own workspace. Miles grinned softly.

He could never get enough of this.

Chapter Text

It was hard to actually leave. Miles enjoyed their silence at least a little bit too much. It's calm and quiet, just how Miguel and he likes it. It would have been complete with a nice cup of tea that Miguel always make for him whenever they're just relaxing or working on a non-combatant work, or the sweet milkshake that MIles would make for his husband who had a sweet tooth that surely would have gotten rotten if not for his spider gene. It was nice. Good, even. So reluctantly, Miles had to pull himself away from the man and his comforting presence. Holding back a chuckle when he passed by Miguel who still haven't noticed him going invisible once again. As much as he loves to stay, he needs to go. His father needs saving after all.

With a quiet presence, Miles leap away from the platform, snickering at the strangled sound of confusion and exasperation. And the immediate panic and irritation.

He'll have plenty of time watching his future-husband range of expressions when he's done saving the multiverse. For now, he have a job to do.

The perk of being married to his husband, is that Miles could see his physics research being put to life, and also, learned some biology and few futuristic gadgets, courtesy of his husband. So it's not hard to collect the necessary tools and items to build one of his own on the rooftop, near the ledge, where one of his and Miguel favorite spot resides. He stayed invisible just out of spite, knowing there's camera up here and every nook and cranny in every part of this building. Hobie had also helped alot, in creating his own gizmo that is. Miles had always been a creative guy, so he makes do with what he have. Knowing his friends, they're probably freaking out completely. And Miguel is, well... Miles can guess his stress level is rising up dangerously.

The skyscraper is soundproof, so, Miles couldn't quite hear the, no doubt, swarm of spider-sona searching for him. He didn't panic. And he definitely did not rush. He doesn't want his gizmo to turn out wonky if he rush. Which is something he doesn't want to happen for what he had planned. After a few hours, Miles finally weld the last piece, smiling proudly to himself. He set down the tools and leftover materials, before turning the gizmo on, huffing in amusement at the blank blue screen. It still needs to be loaded into the system to be able to access the multiverse. So he is kinda a sitting duck until then. Miles snorted. To create a system himself, it'll take at least one day and a half maximum, non-stop. But he doesn't have that kind of time. Judging from the dark sky that had long since blanketed the sky after the sunset, Miles may have only an hour or two before his time is cut to one day left.

It wasn't exactly how he had planned, but it's not bad. He just have to know how to get into the Go Home machine lab, without alerting Margo. And maybe whatever spiders that were assigned there to keep watch. He's good at stealth, but he's back in his teenage body, which does not have any experience, nor any muscles memory. Memory is fine, but without the careful practice and training that this body lacks, plans and memories are useless.

He could get Lyla to snitched his gizmo into the system, but the AI is not programmed to allow him any access yet. Not by a few years. Which, okay. He kind of guess his infamous bad luck starting to catch up to him. Which is, okay, fair— he's Spider-Man and all, but come on. Won't it at least gives him a break for a full 24 hours? It hasn't even been a day. This hardly seems fair. But, Spider-man life is never fair.

With a heavy sigh, MIles stood up from where he was hunched over the gizmo a while ago. His bones cracking audibly as he stretches, which gave him a pause. He blink slowly, momentarily stunned. Before he frowned. Shouldn't he be young? Why is he already creaking like an old man?! Damn. Being Spider-Man is really bad for his body. Physically and mentally.

The teen grumbled, starting not to feel great about this whole thing.

At least gives him a healthy body. (Even though he does have a healthy body, just overworked and tired.)

His spider sense are tingling. He turn his invisibility on, slowing down his breath. Just as soon as the rooftop elevator door open and a few spider-people steps out. Their visors squinting and shrinking as they scanned the area. They're not much, but even they will start to feel something is off if Miles stayed for any longer. With a deep breath Miles slipped past them before the elevator door could close. For once, thankful for the delayed reaction of their spidey sense in recognizing a new Spidey people, because no doubt, MIles would have been find out if he was even a second late.

Pressing the floor number he wanted to go, MIles breathes out slowly. Already feeling a migraine popping up with all the plans and strategies he come up with should his main one failed. His plan wasn't perfect, but it's his best shot anyway. Anything else... He just have to pray for the best.

Even if most of his prayers were never answered.

Chapter Text

As always, it's quite easy to slipped away unnoticed in the hectic base of Spider Society. He has done it many times. In the future at least. It makes him feels nostalgic, cause the base is so different compared to the future. Not any less futuristic, quite the opposite. Just-... Different. Things changes ovetime. There's nothing wrong with it. It's just nice to see how it used to look like before, reliving the good times he once had in this place, that didn't happened in this time yet. It's uncanny the longer he thinks about it. But it's not like he's trying that hard to think in the very first place.

Miles got away from swinging place to place undetected. Slipping away from spideys that is put on guard. Feeling quite accomplished at his achievement. Before he's back at Miguel's lab. The man himself is not present, probably on the hunt for him. Miles had done a few tricks to get the DayPass to glitched into hiding his location, something he learned from Hobie and later, Miguel himself.

It lasted for a few hour, which Miles already used to build the gizmo. Any second now, it'll end and his location would be ping to every gizmos in vicinity immediately, and he would be compromised. But oh, well. He'll be done with what he came for by then.

Swinging up to the elevated platform, he tinker away on the console as he pull up the link code for the permission to the Go Home machine terminal. He placed the gizmo on one of the plate, pressing start as some of the machine there scans the gizmo, watching as it begins to insert each dimensions and codes into the gizmo. Until, it's finished, it's a waiting game.

To pass some time, Miles absentmindedly did some of the reports in Miguel's system. Sighing out disappointedly when he sees just how much load the man have on his plate. Always the one to do most work when he has others that are just as capable at this work as him.

It was something he had done multiple times before, helping his husband with his works and vice versa. Reading the reports, checking for any anomalies and sending out assigments to those available. Checking the stabilities of some universes, sending a batch of backup to those that needed it in their expedition.( And also transferring some of the reports for others to do, because he knows that his husband-not-husband will get a new batch of reports after this is all done.) All in all, it's something he'd done so many times in the future. Miles groans as he stretch his back from where he had sit on Miguel's chair, arms raised above his head as his spine arched slightly. With this, Miguel might have some time to relax and take a break-

...

Who is he kidding. Miguel would sooner get himself stabbed and have his bones broken multiple times than to take a breather and relax.

Miles let out a pleased hum when the machine finished its work. Taking the gizmo off the plate and putting it on his wrist, humming pleasantly when it thrums softly to life. Lyla immediately flares to life with an unusual frown on her avatar. Miles could have listed off her program out of the link of codes, but he had grown fond of her throughout the years they've worked together.

Lyla's avatar put her hands on her hips as she narrowed her eyes at him. "You do know you're illegally tresspassing against private systems, don't you?" She inquired impassively. Her avatar glitched before it settles on her checking her nails boredly.

Miles merely tilt his head, looking at her amusedly. "I do. That's why I'm doing this in secret." He snorted, before shifting his gaze back on the monitors, seeing the multiple dots approaching the lab in an accelerate pace as his coordination is made public. "Well... Not so secret anymore." Miles chuckled, before punching in codes in his new gizmo. E-1610 on his speed dial.

The portal swirled to life just as soon as the lab door slammed open Miguel, Peter, Gwen and a few other familiar faces.

"Morales! Stop this, right now!" Miguel growled out, speeding through the lab to get to him. Claws put and fangs bared. Probably unconsciously.

It was a familiar sight. One where Miles would have loved to partake in. But one that Miles isn't really in the mood or in the right time to partake in. He's always down for some feral play, but now, he has a father to save. A father that is alive in this past.

So, instead... The teen smiled, eyes soft and understanding. Swirling with resolve and the promise of 'everything will be okay'.

"Adiós, mi solar." Said with so much fondness and soft affection that it puts everyone to a jarring halt. Even the one with bright scarlet eyes stopping in his track for a brief second, eyes flaring with confusion and bewilderment.

With that, the teen falls through the portal, ready for his mission once again.

When all dust settled and everything is safe and peaceful. No dimensional rifts or holes making a mess of everything. Miles sat on top of the HQ tower. Just enjoying the old futuristic sight of Nueva York. His dad is safe and sound, his mom is still alive and kicking ass. Literally. His ass still hurt from the chancla she hit him with. (Where she got it, Miles had no clue.) It's mostly just phantom pain, since his fast healing had healed all of his wounds and bruises.

He's just taking some time for himself. Just breathing it all in. The fact that he saved the mutliverse— not really— again, the fact that his parents are still alive, the fact that he's not married to his husband yet, the fact that Pav isn't married to Gayatri yet, the fact that he's in the past. He's quick to accept it.

When life throws all sorts of things at you, you kind of get used to it. Not that he has to like it. He doesn't. Cause Miles and Miguel agreed on a date just tomorrow, in his time. A date in which, involve the marital bed afterwards. A rare thing nowadays, since they're both are not as young as they used to be. And Miles were looking forward on pampering Miguel with hugs and kisses. Not like it's not a common occurrence. They pampered each other daily just as much. But a special time where Miguel gave up control? That was quite rare. But not as rare as when they first got married.

Miles huffed, rolling his eyes at what fate had thrown at him. It's fine. It's totally fine. Not like they both had taken the day off for once, to finally set their other activities away for the whole day and finally get down to it. It's fine.

Deep in his sulking, Miles realised too late that he's not alone. Spider sense tingling in soft warning, Miles turned his head, looking behind him. He snorted when he sees who it is.

"What's up, man?" The teen huffed, turning away from the ledge. The man in question only stares at him quite intensely. Body tense and tight with nerves if one were to look closely. Something Miles had long noticed. Miguel only frown, staring at the teen for a few more moments, before sighing and looking away. He crossed his arms indifferently, trying to speak but finding no words to say. Miles only waits patiently, knowing just how hard it is for Miguel to speak his mind that isn't anything related to work or fight. (His Miggy would be proud of how patient he is if he sees Miles right now.)

Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Miguel finally break it. "I'm sorry." The man blurted out quickly, face twisting into a grimace, as if he's not even sure why he said that. "I didn't—" The man cut himself off, looking to the side. "No, no excuses—" He muttered beneath his breath alongside a few curse words in spanish, before looking at Miles again, but his gaze drifts away a second later. "I was, in the lack of better word, not-... Very understanding, and ended up lashing on you aggressively." He continues, the grimace growing, fangs in sight as he looks more and more like he would be anywhere than here at the moment. Miles only tilt his head to the side. People would probably think that Miguel is forced to apologised and not doing it because he feels guilty. But Miles knows better.

"I know it sounds like an excuse— And maybe it is one— But I just want you to know that it's not you, kid. The problem. You're just— A kid. Bitten by a radioactive spider, that doesn't belong in your world, whether you wanted to or not." Miguel sighed, looking so very exhausted and tired. The dark circle around his eyes prominent and paleness of his skin is obvious despite his (beautiful—) bronze skin color. "It's not your fault. It never is. At that time, you were a risk I cannot ignore, a risk I cannot brush aside and set for later. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for—" The older man cut himself off, looking more and more uncomfortable. Not used in being vulnerable. "I'm sorry for everything." He murmured, gaze has long drifted elsewhere that isn't black and red.

Silence hangs in the air after Miguel's words, so heavy that the man himself seems to slumped from the weight. Miles look at the man before him. Seeing just how guilty, how sorry, how remorseful and how uncomfortable the man is. This is a big step for Miguel. Miles know it is. He's surprised that it took Miguel this early to apologise, given that it took a long time in his past for Miguel to muttered an apology (given that he is also actively avoiding the older man) at that time Miles thought was half-assed. It's not. Miguel is just not used to being vulnerable and was never good at his own feelings and thoughts. He's never been good with words that were for himself. Give him a prompt and a book, and he'll write a masterpiece. But give him a paper to write how he's feeling or thinking, he'll just put a few words of 'I'm fine.', 'I'm good.', 'I think the weather is great.'.

He got better at it with time, though. Miles knows. He's seen it himself.

Miles stares for a few more seconds, before sighing. "I already forgive you, man. No hard feelings involved." The teen shrugged, his lips pulled into an easy-going grin. That is true. He had already forgiven the older man long ago. "You're just doing your job. And, I'm not exactly cooperative. I get it." He chuckled lightly, shrugging his shoulders, hoping he's not being too easy-going in case Miguel read it as if he's lying and just mocking him. He also double check his tone in case any sarcasm could be hinted at even if that's not what he's trying to do.

Miguel frown, brows furrowing so deeply they're almost a touching each other. It made Miles snickers, though he tried to keep quiet. Which he failed, looking at how Miguel's fingers twitched. Super hearings when you don't need them...

"I tried to kill you." Miguel huffed out, looking so confused with his deep frown that could be mistaken as a glare.

"You were dealing with a threat that could make the whole mutliverse crumbles. If immobilisation doesn't work, the next best thing is removing it altogether. You're just doing your job" Miles replied smoothly. Miguel's frown deepen as if it is even possible.

"I tried to stop you from saving your dad. Indirectly almost killing him." Miguel push out, seemingly irked at his own word.

"But we didn't. And like I said, you're just doing your job." Miles replied, grinning slightly. Already knows where this is going.

Miguel didn't seem to like the answer. His face twisted into a scowl. A mean one. The others would probably avoided him for this one, thinking it means anger. But, Miles knows better. "I almost killed you." The older man spoke out heavily, emphasising the 'killed'.

The man seems to look for any excuse, any reason to blame himself at all. Anything to shift the blame on him. As if that's how it's supposed to be. Maybe it is... With the multiverse not really as fragile as the silk web he calculated it to be, rousing anger and disappointment from the other fellow spider-people... Maybe. But that is only guilt talking. Miguel is a man. A man who is only concerned for the multiverse after seeing one falling apart at the seams. Of course it's natural that he deemed it's dangerous to tweak and tinker with the silk web, afraid to destroy the delicate balance.

But, well... It's time for him to free himself of the guilt, and for Miles to teach him to hope for anew.

The teen took a step towards Miguel, making the older man tenses more, but ultimately staying in one place. Ready. For whatever profanities he thinks Miles would dealt out. Miles did none of that. Instead, he reached out a hand between them, hand open for handshake.

"Truce?" Miles smiled, so much fondness and care shining in his eyes as he looked at his beaten and bruised soulmate. (Not like— literally bruised. Metaphorically.)

The man didn't react, he stares at the teen's hand with disbelief in those resting bitch face— (I mean—) those troubled expression on his face. Before he could turned around and slipped away, Miles reached forward and seized Miguel's hand into his, shaking it once and twice. "Truce." He knows Miguel would run and shut himself off, spiraling into his self-loathing and guilt, but he won't let him.

The older man looked conflicted. As he should be. Because sometimes... "Feelings are difficult and it's okay, tío. It's okay..." Miles repeated softly. His heart aching to soothe this man aches, to hold him in his arms, when he saw the taller man crumbling, but still so, so stubborn. A trait Miles love and hate.

"I— Yeah. Yeah... Okay." Miguel shuddered out, almost stuttering on one simple word. Not realising the slipped up from Miles.

"Okay." And somehow, that word is enough for now.

"And also, how did you know the code to the system—?" "Aight, my ma would kill me if I stayed here for longer. Bye, big man." "Wait—!"

Chapter Text

Admittedly, Miles is not in the HQ much. Not because he's avoiding anyone like before. Really. He forgot just how hectic and full his schedule as a teenager are. He needs time to adjust. He also spent time with his family too. After so long with just visiting their grave, seeing them alive is so weird, yet so good. Going to school, (he already know everything, already went through all of it. But it's so nostalgic to go through this once again,) do his job as Spider-man, finishing his mural (he also finished this once before. Who's to say he didn't add anything new? So what if he add a few different strokes and splash? It's his life). So, yeah. All in all, he's been booked. So, with his father and mamí off to work, Miles got to work.

Cooking, Miles found out, is a great bonding activity (and also very... Distractive—). He remembered what to do and all, and that had guide his body into cooking without it just standing there blankly. He does need a moment to search for his necessary ingredients, which thank god, his mamí had. But fuck, he lost his knife passive skills. He definitely did not cut his fingers trying to cut fast. Nope. It's stupid. But, eh. Manageable. He made some empanadas, arepas con queso, and burrito, filled with most of the nutritions. Cause, hell be damned if he gave Miguel unbalance meal when it's already unbalanced (the empanadas and burrito filled with his beloved favorites filling of course). He packed it all up and making sure to leave some for his mother and dad. He's not a heathen. After using the resources, the least he can do is leave some for them.

Walking through the HQ, it is noticeably sparse. Not empty, just not crowded as it usually is. Miles wouldn't know, but given that the entirety of what they've known about the multiverse had been proved false, and their big boss had been the one to slide that theory out, of course they'll be avoiding the Spider Society. It was also almost like this when he had finally braced himself to step foot into this place. It's eerie. Air filled with tension. Hostile. Grieving. He sighed. Knowing this tension would only make su querido corazón drown in his self-loathing and guilt more. But well, at least in this early stages, his friends and Peter won't be here yet. He'll have a head start of just spending his time with Miguel, before he'll have to deal with him.

He reached Miguel's lab, entering it. There wasn't anyone there. The orange monitors on the elevated platform turned off. No Margo either. He sigh again. Guess he'll try another way.

Putting down the packed up food on a nearby table, Miles lifted his hand, swiping through his watch and summoning Lyla. She appeared with a burst of pixels, bathed in that warm orangey color. Pink heart shaped tinted glasses changed into a yellow start shaped tinted glasses as she narrowed her eyes at him "Weird. Newbie, yet you didn't need anyone to instruct you, do they?" She glitches, before settling on her leaning against some invisible wall nonchalantly, gaze indifferent as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Miles shrugged, watching the AI before picking up the food. "Delivery. I'm guessing the big guy is holed up somewhere, isn't he?" The teen dangled the bag in front of Lyla, grinning easily.

Lyla, expectedly, raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I don't know who you're talking about." The hologram glitches, now standing, instead of leaning. It could have fooled anyone. But Miles knows Miguel better than anyone else.

"C'mon now. I've brought food. A peace offering. And well, for bonding. Haven't had the time to dropped by the past few weeks, now I have time. And I wanted to get to know Mr. O'Hara, the man who built this society, better." The teen huffed out amusedly, rolling his shoulders in show of appearing laid back, calm. Even if all he wanted to do is just barge in to where he knows Miguel's secret hideout is. He didn't want to scare the older man. Yet.

Lyla still didn't seem to budged. But she didn't need to, because the next moment, Miguel landed on the elevated platform. Soundless, undetected. He stares down at the younger man with an unreadable expression.

"Morales." He spoke, voice heavy and rough. Gaze intense. As it always is. So beautiful, those pair of rubies. But Miles aren't focused on those though. "What are you doing here?" Miguel gruffly questioned, waiting for the teen to answer.

He stares at those eyebags, the exhaustion, the thin frame (even if the man is still tall, still broader than anyone else), the strain in his voice as if he never spoke nor hydrated himself much lately. If he had to guess, since that day.

Miles offered the bag of food towards Miguel. Expression inscrutable as his grin never fades. "For you, Mr. O'Hara." The teen replied sweetly. "Would you like to have a picnic date with me?"

"What the shock are you talking about, cabrón—?!" "Hey! That's mean! I'm being serious here!"