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Choose Your Own Adventure: Miles Morales - Part 5

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Okay, time to diffuse this conversation.

"Tell me what? That his own father works for a fascist and oppressive organization intent on undermining a government of the people? Right, screw this. Sorry Miles, but I think I'm done 'ere."

He needed to do something and fast. By now, Miles definitely should have learned not to act upon the first idea that his mind supplies him with but apparently the universe thought that it was too out of character for him, so.

"You know, that's big talk coming from someone who looks like they'd tear apart the government themselves."

He could grab Hobie and kiss him. That... was certainly an idea. An idea that Miles would not be opposed to he thought, looking approvingly at Hobie's lips.

Ah, shit.

It was happening again.

What if he started choking? The absurdity of the notion slaps Miles across the face. Choosing to ignore how the fuck that idea spawned into his brain, Miles quickly decides that it would probably be the less stupid of the two ideas, given the circumstance.

(Not that it was the one that he preferred, of course.)

"Mate, you are literally proving my point by profiling me. That's exactly what officers like you are doing!"

Miles let out a singular, pathetic wheeze. It was the least convincing choking noise he had never heard, and definitely not enough to tear attention away from the conversation. Louder, Morales.

"'Officers like me?' Son, I don't think that I'm the one doing the profiling here-" the cop was cut off by a harsh cough to his left. Several pairs of eyes snapped in Miles direction.

Not that loud!

Seeing as he already had everyone's attention, he figured that may as well commit to the bit and continues hacking.

"Miles?"

"What's wrong with him?" Jeff asks, genuinely confused. Rio looks at him, incredulous.

"We call it 'coughing'," Hobie deadpans. Jefferson glares right back.

"Oh really? I had no idea."

"Hush. I think he might be choking on something." Rio observes. Miles begins another round of intense coughing. That's it, he thinks. Oh no, I'm dying! Be worried, pay attention to me and forget your quarrels!

Miraculously, it seems works as the arguing ceases and everyone grows concerned.

"Baby hold on- Does anyone know CPR?"

"Don't look at me." Jefferson tells her.

"'Punch to the gut 'll prob'ly help up," Hobie suggests.

What.

"What? No! In what way will winding him will help?" Yes, Thank you sane and reasonable person.

"Dunno, innit supposed to 'elp stun 'is diagram or somethin'?"

"What do you mean- that's exactly-"

"How on God's green Earth did you manage to pass Biology? Did you even pass Biology?"

"Guys, really not the time." Miles rasps. The three watched as Miles continues to figuratively cough up his soul, no doubt tainted by weeks of endless deceit.

The thing is that it wasn't even good deception. If Miles wasn't already cursed for lying then bad acting was definitely a runner-up.

"We should punch him." Please don't.

"Try it and see what happens."

"Miles, hold on-"

“You know what, I think I'm actually starting to feel a little better now, so y-” Oh no.

That's when Miles actually begins to choke.

It's kind of hilarious. What moron thinks he can fool his family by pretending to choke, and then in the process actually starts choking? Miles wants to scoff at the comical misfortune, but can't because at the moment is busy coughing up his own lungs.

Miles feels a hand begin rub circles his around back. Tearing his gaze from the table to find the owner of the arm, his eyes find Hobie. At this Miles dies a little on the inside, dumbstruck by Hobie's touch. He tries not to overthink it. Tries.

Fortunately, his coughing begins to tapper off shortly after downing two glasses of water (his own and Hobie's). Never doing that again, he promises himself, clearing his throat.

"You police and all ya shady tactics." Hobie scoffs. 'Wanna help people.' What a load of bull."

Miles was about to pound his boyfriend's head in for cursing but decided to let it slide as his voice was a bit sore.

"I'm shady?" Jefferson reeled, incredulous. "Alright then, I'd like to know what you were doing with Miles all that time he was at your house." Oh shit. They did not prepare for this.

"Well we- uh, ahem. That's nunya effin' business. As if I would sell Miles out to a copper."

"Well as a 'copper' and his father I'm the best person he could trust." Yikes. This was not a road Miles wanted to go down tonight.

"And I’m asking you to for once get your head out of your arse- er, assets, and try see it from his perspective!”

"This is who you’re dating? Really, Miles? This guy.” Jefferson asks Miles. "I’m just gonna say it. I don’t like him."

"Funny, because I don't remember asking you to." Miles replies, irritated. He isn't sure why, but this tips him the wrong way.

"Miles," Rio warns.

"I’m sorry but no, actually. You asked to meet him and here he is. Why do you have to like him? I do, and really, that should be enough. All I've asked you to do is sit at the same table with him for ten minutes and not kill each other, which for some reason is proving to be a difficult task."

Honestly so what if his parents didn’t like everything about Hobie. Did it really matter if they didn’t approve of his clothes, attitude or opinions so long as Miles was cool with it? In the end he was the one dating the teen, not his parents.

“He is an anarchist-”

"He's also my boyfriend, who clearly happens to care about me. Didn't you tell me to watch out for people who have my back? Guess what; Hobie has my back. Even when you can't." He knows it’s cruel, but it doesn’t stop him.

Underneath the table Hobie intertwines his fingers with Miles’ and gives the hold an encouraging squeeze. Miles continues.

"I'm not asking you to love him. I mean, I would appreciate it, but just getting along would more than enough."

Surprisingly, this seems to silence any remaining disputes. Reluctantly, both Hobie and his Dad turn their attention back to the once abandoned meals.

The stillness is stiff and uncomfortable, which Miles knows he’s likely responsible for.

Miles hates how much of this he has to fight tooth and nail for. And how in the end it wasn't going to matter as he and Hobie weren't even seeing each other in the first place.

If a little part of Miles was somewhat hoping that the whole experience could bring two together, it had proved to be a dumb idea. He wasn't exactly sure why he thought it would work, as fake dating was always recipe doomed to fail spectacularly. Which was fair, as deception hadn't done much for him anyways.

Oh well. Guess you can't lie your way into happy parents and a free boyfriend. It was really too bad.

"I know that it's probably impossible for just one cop to change a system. In fact, sometimes I think I might be contributing to it, doing more harm than good." Jefferson eventually says. "But damn if I won't try anyways."

Miles is left stunned. His eyes follow Hobie who seems to be having a similar reaction to the words. What shocks him even more is the admiration he finds twinkling in the teen's eyes.

"I... actually respect that. A lot."

"You're a little odd, but I think I understand where you're coming from. Miles seems to like you, so you must be alright." Rio adds.

"Yeah. Even if you still look like vandalism and bad ideas." the officer chuckles. Hobie grins mischievously.

"Guilty."

"And you're grades are alright?"

"Dad."

"My grades are brilliant." Funny enough, this was actually true.

"I had to ask."

"You really didn't."

"They had better be for all that silver crap you wear." Jefferson then says to Hobie, much to Miles' mortification. Thankfully, Hobie's response to this is to laugh.

"S'what Abe said too."

"He sounds like a smart guy."

"He wishes." Hobie snorts.

"That your brother?"

"Unfortunately."

"I had a brother." the elder takes a sip from his glass.

"I heard. Sorry 'bout that one." Jefferson smiles, bittersweet.

"All good. Just gotta keep pushin' you know?"

"Yeah."

The four continued to converse throughout the evening, managing to steer clear of any more hiccups. Rio and Hobie engage in a light debate over whether Elvis Presley was really an icon or a fraud, and later, Hobie shares his love of 'expressive art' with Miles' parents.

("I even did this piece on the B's bridge last week," Jefferson chokes on his water.

"Wait, that was you?")

Eventually the dishes were scrubbed clean after Rio's insistence that everyone take a fifth serving (Hobie somehow able to eat more meanwhile Miles was on the verge of combustion) when Miles decided to take the opportunity and excuse the two from the table.

"If you don’t mind, Hobie and I are gonna tap out now." He says, arising from the station. Miles looks to the other and smiles tellingly.

"My room?" Hobie chirps a 'sure' and gets up, following Miles down the corridor.

"Remember to leave the door open!" he hears Rio call from behind him.

"Right." He was not doing that.

Sliding down the corridor with help from his socks, Hobie purposefully slams into Miles. The two stumble forward, awkwardly catching each other all whilst failing to stifle their laughter.

"You boys better be behaving yourselves!" A voice sounds from the kitchen.

Miles stills and gives Hobie a pointed look, grabbing the other by his hand. Hobie fastens the grip and doesn't let go. Instead, he pulls Miles in closer and playfully presses a kiss to his forehead.

"For performance points," Bastard. Heart pounding in his ears, Miles half-hardheartedly rolls his eyes before pushing open the door to his bedroom. Hobie wastes no time in collapsing onto Miles' bed as the door swings closed behind them. Draping himself over his desk chair, Miles sighs a breath of relief.

"We actually pulled that off. Huh."

"I can hardly believe it myself."

"I guess fake dating really does work."

"Careful, you don’t want to jinx it." Miles jokes.

He watches Hobie's gaze thoughtfully trail around his room from his posters, to figurines and art supplies. In a way, having Hobie in his room felt like opening him up an intimate part of Miles' life. Encompassed around his own personal space, filled to the brim with personality and expression. The last non-relative person to visit his room had been Gwen, who, at the time Miles had also low key had a thing for-

-and why exactly was he drawing parallels between people he liked visiting his room-

-honestly it was almost like he enjoyed setting himself up for disaster but-

"Did your mom actually play trombone in high school?" Hobie asks suddenly, fishing Miles from out of his spiral.

"Yup. She’s really proud of it."

"I liked her. Concise." Hobie chuckles.

"Well she hasn’t expressly forbid me from seeing you yet so I’d say that’s a good sign." He says, thoughtful.

"And Jefferson?" Miles winces.

"He doesn't hate you. Dislike certainty, but I think he respects you."

"'e’s not too terrible himself." Hobie shrugs.

"Glad you think so." Miles says dryly.

"But we aren't dating," Hobie points out.

So it doesn't matter anyways.

Miles frowns.

"Guess not." Hobie cocks his head to the right.

"You sound bummed."

"I mean, a little." Miles stiffens.

Did he really just say that?

Out loud?

Goddammit Morales.

"Could have been fun." he hastily adds.

"The food was good," Fortunately Hobie doesn't seem to catch on to the slip up.

"Aye. Shame I can’t eat like that every night." Hobie pokes fun.

Well.

Technically,

"You’re always welcome back, you know. I’m sure my mom would be ecstatic to have you." Miles pokes fun.

"As your…?"

"Which ever. Friend. Boyfriend." Hopefully both. "Just show up as yourself, whoever that is."

"Cool. I uh, should probably head out now."

"Right. Want me to show you out?"

"Out your window?" He asks, confused. Right. Because leaving through the front door is apparently a foreign concept.

"Never mind. So, see you in a bit?" Miles watches as Hobie slides open the unlocked window.

"Sure thing babe." Hobie says whilst climbing out of the room.

What if.

The idea grabs and shakes him by the shoulders, but once it pops up it's definitely there.

Technically, nothing was stopping Miles from asking Hobie out right now. Except for the fact that, well, it was crazy.

It wasn't even a question of whether he liked him or not. Frankly, It was so painfully obvious that it was a good thing his parents thought that they were already dating.

Plus, was it really okay to ask the universe for more? Because, really, it had already been a miracle that tonight had turned out okay. The chance that he could monumentally fuck things up between them were so high on the scale that it should have scared him into going back to chasing Gwen.

But they didn't.

Wait, Miles was getting ahead of himself here. Did Hobie even like him back? Even reading into it was difficult. Additionally, Miles knew that Hobie was a flirt. While it was nice to think that the gestures were sweet, in reality they were probably meaningless. Ouch.

Then again, what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like Miles was expecting him to say yes anyways. At least this way he'll always know that he tried, and that for sure that nothing was ever there.

"Hobie wait," He blurts out before he's finished weighing the pros and cons.

"Yeah?" Hobie waits, one foot out the window. Miles inhales sharply.

Was this it?

Now or never.

massive shout out to my beta beloved @ihrtwillow for helping with me out with that ending. yeesh.

#across the spiderverse #punkflower #choose your own adventure #polls #updates daily!#goddammit sorry this took so long #not even going to get into how hard it is to type on mobile #<- please ignore me complaining #anyways enjoy!! :')

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