#kait i hope you liked it i know you were excited

[jack-kellys]

today is Halloween

here's a real wild ralbert spider-man au fic that takes place on Halloween

enjoy

__________________

another day on the job

warnings: cursing, al's a cop, someone gets s m a c k e d, yeah that's it how unusual for me,

words: 1700 ish oh jeez

yep

——

Race was late again.

This was the third time this week they’d set a date, just a small coffee date, and Race had been at least twenty minutes late to each of the last few. Not like Albert was punctual, but anyone who arrived after Albert? That was saying something.

Albert opened the case file in front of him, taking away the paper clip that held the pictures inside. He frowned, looking down at them for what seemed like the millionth time.

People like this really made him hate his job.

Spider-Man, the newest “hero” of New York, has recently caused a lot of property damage on a high end building in Midtown, and now the NYPD was starting to get more directly involved. Albert was one of the lead detectives on the case, and it had been extremely taxing lately. There was barely any information on the guy, except that he apparently talked a lot, a few cops recounting their strange encounters with the web-slinging creep.

He looked up from reading through the file for the fourth time as the door of the small café banged open, Race practically tumbling in.

Albert stared at him with furrowed brows until Race sat himself down across from him. “What happened this time?” Al sighed, sipping his espresso.

“Well, ok, so I was comin’ here, right,” Race starts off, and Albert could already feel the headache coming on, “right from work. And I notice this guy start followin’ me, which like, gotta get away from that right? So I take a longer route. Guy’s still there. So then I book it, okay, completely different direction, ‘n now I’m here. Sorry,” Race finally finished. His arms were crossed, Albert didn’t fail to notice, making Race come off as evasive and defensive.

He breathed in, eyes closed, and then out.

“Race, babe,” Al said, brows lowered with a frown. “You know I’m a detective, right?”

“Uh, yeah, Albie, of course I—“

“You know it’s part of my job to call bullshit?”

Race opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, slumping back against his seat. “I just...don’t wanna talk about it, alright?” Race said, voice quieter.

“Alright,” Albert relented. “We won’t.”

“Thanks, baby,” Race smiled, standing up to peck Albert’s cheek. “Lemme get my pumpkin spice latte. It’s Halloween after all!”

Albert rolled his eyes, watching Race go to order. He felt worry roll around in his stomach, tightening a bit into a ball of sharp anxiety. He looked down at the file with a defeated expression.

He hoped he was wrong.

He hoped Race wasn’t the reason he hated his job.

But there was only one way to find out.

•••

Albert supposed he was lucky it was Halloween. It fell right in line with his plan.

A stupid, ridiculous plan, but it was the most plausible he could think of.

The hardest part was going to be keeping Conlon in the dark, but that would come later.

First was the phone call.

Albert parked, walking an extra two blocks just in case. The moon hung bright in the sky, Albert having excused himself from Halloween night for a few hours, telling Race he had some extra work to finish up.

What a fucking lie.

And here came another one.

He glared at Race’s contact on his phone, stomach twisting in guilt before pressing call and raising the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Albie! Ya comin’ home early?” Race’s voice crackled over the other end. “I hope so, cause I got so much candy here—“

“R-Race,” Al interrupted, making his voice sound weak. He was afraid he’d break his act and falter if Race finished his sentence. “I-I got jumped. These guys, musta recognized me as a–“ Albert coughed away from the phone, then bit his lip before continuing with the lie. “–as a cop. They’re gonna come b-back, I can’t move–“

“Baby, oh my god,” Race breathed, and Albert almost sighed in relief that he had been cut short. Lying to Race practically caused him physical pain. “I-I’ll be there in a moment, where are you?”

“I think near the First Avenue subway, on...14th, Race, I don’t kn—“

“I’ll be there. Hold on, Albie, I swear—I’ll be right there. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The line went dead, and Albert lowered the phone shakily, leaning against a wall to breathe for a moment.

If Albert was right about Race, this was a perfect trap.

Albert had been on top of the Spider-Man’s activity since last year, and last Halloween it seemed like the guy had been more stressed out than usual—more activity and false alarms than normal, people in costumes doing stupid things.

Race would be more distracted, not thinking as clearly.

Albert had chosen a more discreet location, somewhere people weren’t often there. A small alley. The Spider-Man swung from above—Albert knew he’d be found.

And as much as it broke Albert’s heart to decit Race like that, it was a clear motivation. Race would come.

Albert raised his phone up again, having selected a different contact.

“Conlon. Track my phone, bring your stuff, don’t ask questions,” Al said when Spot picked up.

“Fuck you,” Albert heard Spot groan back.

“It’s about Spider-Man.”

“Fuck!” Albert almost laughed at the surprise in Spot’s yelp, taking the phone away from his ear as Spot hung up.

Everything was in place.

•••

Albert found himself pacing the alley, nerves starting to settle in. There was always a chance he could be wrong, and Race could get here after Spot, and see he was perfectly fine, and then Al would have to explain he thought Race was the fucking—

Al whipped around as a figure landed behind him.

It was him.

Oh, god was it him.

Albert could easily tell it was Race from this close up. The way the red and blue clad spider held himself, shifting from one foot to another, the slimness of his body, seemingly all angles.

Albert could also tell he was confused. Race, of course, expected Albert to be hurt in some way, which he wasn’t. Yet Race didn’t know that Albert knew his true identity, and therefore had to hide his hesitation.

The insect-like eyes on the mask went large for a small moment and then back to normal. “Hey, dude, didn’t mean to startle ya. Just patrolling the area, crazy night—“

“Cut it out,” Al sighed, the knot of guilt unraveling into a nauseous feeling as he watched the masked man falter. “The act, I mean. You can drop it.”

“Uh, I don’t think I follow? I..” the Spider-Man trailed off, the eyes larger again. Albert recognized the habit of Race’s voice going up when he was confused about something.

“Tony,” Albert managed. “I know. I know it’s you, Sunshine.”

A silence hung in the air for a few long seconds, and for a moment Albert thought he had been wrong about everything.

Then he watched as the Spider-Man shakily pulled off his mask after looking around warily. Messy blonde hair and watery blue eyes were revealed, Race wearing a defiant expression. “Albie, wait, don't arrest me, I can explain, please, just—“

“You don’t have to,” Albert whispered, surprising himself.

Race looked up, angry tears threatening to spill. “And what’s that even mean? You fucking hate the Spider-Man, you always have,” he said bitterly. Albert couldn’t help but wince a little.

“Well,” Albert started, hesitant. Conflict burned inside him, his obligation to the law clashing with his morals, the sound of their battle blaring in his ears. “Well, I called you, like, two minutes ago, and you’re already here. I called Spot only thirty seconds after and he’s an officer and he ain’t even here yet.” Albert scuffed his shoe into the ground, not meeting Race’s eyes.

He was embarrassed. Embarrassed for not trusting Spider-Man—Race, really—to be the good guy, and embarrassed for throwing the NYPD under the bus like that.

Albert looked up as Race took his hands. “I know how hard this is for you,” Race said quietly. “But, Albie, this is what I do. It’s who I am—who I’ve been.”

There was a fire in Race’s eyes that Albert had never seen before. Race wanted this. He believed in this. And standing in this dark alley with the moonlight gleaming in Race’s set expression, distant sounds of children screaming as Halloween continued far away from them, Albert couldn’t find it in himself to refute him.

“Alright,” he said shakily, “okay.”

Albert saw Race beam before he was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug from the taller man.

“Thank you, Albie. I’m so sorry,” Race whispered, then kissed Albert’s temple lightly.

“No, I am. Shit,” Albert‘s eyes widened, pulling himself away from Race. “I called Spot as backup, in case I was wrong about you. Fuck.”

Race’s eyes widened too before he pulled his mask back on, pressing two fingers to his palm and shooting his famous webbing into the sky. “Albie, I gotta—“

“Aw, but wait, shit,” Albert smacked his forehead. “I told him I called him about you. About Spider-Man. God, I’m an idiot.”

“Baby, how are you a cop?” Race sighed, the eyes narrowing on the mask.

“Shut up and punch me,” Albert frowned.

“Yeah oka—wait, what?” Race sputtered, incredulous.

“I can say you got away from me, but I need evidence,” Albert explained. “Just do it.”

“Baby, no I couldn’t ever…”

“Race.” Albert deadpanned. “I lied to you about being hurt. On Halloween night. For the sole purpose of tricking you.”

“Oh yeah,” Race growled, and Albert watched nervously as the eyes on Race’s mask started narrowing. “Albert DaSilva, you fucking dick, ruining my favorite holiday.”

“Wait, wait Ra—“ Albert’s eyes widened as Race’s fist wound up, remembering in that moment about the Spider’s extra strength.

Too late. Race’s fist hit his head like a sharp brick, Albert’s eyes rolling back as he slipped into darkness.

•••

He waded back into consciousness a while later, cracking his eyes open and seeing a blurry Spot Conlon’s dark eyes on the road, finger’s drumming his steering wheel of his cop car. “You’re the second biggest idiot I know, DaSilva,” Spot grumbled.

“I feel like a fuckin’ building jus’, like, bitch-slapped me,” Albert slurred, not daring to move. Everything felt like it was ringing, banging in his head. The traffic lights looked blinding through his slow blinks.

“‘Cause one did. You’re definitely gonna have a concussion, pal, that damned Spider got ya bad. You musta pissed him off.” Spot scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Al smiled messily. “Yeah, I did piss ‘im off,” he giggled.

“I hate your stupid ass.”

“Happy Halloween, Conlon,” Al sighed happily, closing his eyes.

“Shut up.”

————

fun right? also albert's the dumbest cop in the city. at least that's what spot tells everyone he knows

tag list: @suddenly-im-respecsable @alberts-cigar @bencookisagod @thatpoorguysheadisspinning @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn