SpideyDevil

Less Than Professional Maybe

Peter’s dark brows quirked upwards with surprise intrigue at the mention of Matt’s sixth sense. It was indeed strange he’d been able to pick up on his silent inquiry, but Peter figured it had been subtly laced somewhere in his tone of voice or inflection and he simply hadn’t realized it before.
He didn’t linger on it for too long as Matt moved forward with the serious subject that was the purpose of their meeting.
Bringing a fist to his mouth, Peter pressed his lips against his skin as he thought about their potential culprits. Although Spiderman had fought his fair share of gang members and monsters and mutants, he’d never gone head-to-head with the Yakuza specifically, and to be perfectly honest they seemed to be in a league entirely their own. However, Peter was never one to back down from any enemy or challenge, no matter how supposedly daunting they made themselves appear.
Unconsciously, he lightly pressed his teeth down on his pinky finger (a bad habit of his when he was deeply absorbed in his thoughts) as he considered how exactly he’d go about infiltrating a Russian or Japanese gang later tonight. And the answer he came up with was: not an easy walk in the park.
“Hmm, if you get any information from your cop friend, I’d like to know please,” came the reporter's soft reply.
He blinked out of his pensive stare just in time to catch Matt wincing from touching his bruise.
And just like that, Peter forgot about all else.
Unable to keep it in, he finally asked the question that had been dancing around in his head since he’d first caught sight of the dark coloration on the lawyer’s skin. “Hey, are you okay? What happened to you, Matt?” Peter asked with nothing but genuine concern for his well-being. “Cause yeah, you were right. I did have a question for you,” Without thinking, he reached a hand out on the table between them. “about your bruise. Er, that is - if you don’t mind me asking. I don’t want to be rude and intrude, but I’ve gotten knocked around a couple of times and it looks rough.”
-
Matt didn't seem bothered by Peter's far away pensive state. He tilted his head slightly, an ear towards the other man; but despite all his insights to people's feelings, excitement, fear, anger all having very distinct flavors, he couldn't read minds, and he had no clue what was going through the energetic young reporters head before he asked Matt to pass on any information he might find.
Matt of course agreed before Peter's next question burst from him.
Any remaining levity seemed to fall from his face and he pursed his lips as his own fingers tapped gently at his cup of coffee, seemingly unaware of Peter's encroaching hand.
That was exactly the question he most wanted to avoid but he figured his bad lie to Foggy wouldn't carry over well to the inquisitive and caring young man across from him, it had hardly sold his best friend who trusted his word like gospel.
So he picked a lie a little closer to the truth.
Clearing his throat he gave that more polite smile again, tight lipped and shallow.
"I… had a run it. With one of Hell's Kitchens finest muggers.
Trust me, no need to worry about it. He got a couple of good hits in but people underestimate the power of a cane in their ribs so I'd say he was looking worse than me by the end of it."
It wouldn't have been an entirely fictitious story, Matt almost got mugged quite often, an easy target walking home late at night, but he rarely had an issue defusing those sorts of situations long before they got out of hand.
His hand rose as if to rub his face again but it hesitated halfway to its destination and ended up falling back to his cup, thinking better of it.
"I didn't realize it was that noticeable… "
He opened his mouth like he was going to say more but from the pocket of his coat came the monotonous repeating of "Foggy. Foggy. Foggy."
Matt made a face, an ah shit kind of face before slipping it from his pocket and mumbling a soft, "excuse me" to Peter, he turned in his chair but didnt actually leave the table as he answered.
"Hey, yeah um, No I remember of course I do, I just sort of...ran into a situation and… you know what tell them I am calling out today. "
He was speaking softly but he clearly had no intention of hiding the brief conversation from Peter.
"I just have a migraine and I think it might be best if I sleep off last night."
…
"Yeah I still get migraines, it is sound sensitivity too" a flicker of a smirk "….okay yeah I will, thanks Foggy."
He took in a long breath through his nose as he hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
"Sorry… he is my friend, we intern together, I should have met him to go in already. 
I just think I have some better snooping to be doing tonight if I am being honest. And he wouldn't understand. For all intents and purposes there is not a lot of legal recourse to be done here, not much of a case to be made… but I want to help that woman any way I can so…"
He sort of dropped his head as if he were looking at his shoes when realistically he was listening to a passing police siren, and the radio dispatch, a kid smash and grabbing cars...probably not worth his time.
"Um… anyway maybe I should go ahead and try an double back to the precinct.
If I find anything I will surely send it to you."
–
Upon hearing Matt’s tale, relief untangled the worry that had constricted around the young hero’s chest. Had Matt told him he’d been jumped and his mugger had gotten away with it scotch free, Peter would’ve definitely gotten the red guy involved. Because if there was one thing the boy hated most in the world it was bullies who thought themselves better or stronger and used it as a justification to run over innocent people just because they could. He had made it a point to stand up to bullies in high school and he certainly strove to continue that streak out in the real world too. But as Matt described how he fended off his attacker, Peter felt something else swell in his chest that he couldn’t quite name.
Admiration? Fondness? He wasn’t exactly sure.
Peter nodded his head, trusting Matt’s word for it as he never gave him any reason to doubt him before and he gave him an amused half smile. “Are you telling me I should see the other guy?” He softly chuckled and grinned a little wider. “Good on you, pal. I’m sure you gave him a lesson he won’t soon forget.”
At that moment he seemed to realize how far his hand had reached out towards Matt and he retracted it from the table and into the security of his jacket’s pocket and retreated his other hand to the warmth of his coffee mug.
Peter quirked a curious brow as the other man’s phone alerted him of the incoming call.
Foggy, huh?
Peter cocked his head as he listened to Matt’s side of the conversation, unable to help himself, but he felt something almost like kinship as he overhead the future lawyer try to cover up for his absence. Cause boy, did Peter know the feeling. Before he lived alone, there were many nights where he’d have to make up some sort of excuse for where he’d been, where he was going, why he had scars all over his face... But now, with no one expecting him at home and no set schedule at work for him to follow, he was pretty much free from those awkward conversations.
As Matt hung up and turned his attention back towards him, and mentioned he had to go, Peter felt an odd sense of disappointment sink into the pit of his stomach.
“Oh… Right. Totally. I get it. This case is going to need a push to get it off the ground, and it certainly won’t be by the police. For now, it’s up to us to help Miss Coppell.”
Raising a hand, Peter motioned to the barista for their bills and she quickly rang them up and brought over their slips.
“Thank you for stopping by, gentlemen,” she said in her bubbly customer-service voice. “That’ll be $6 for both of you. Have a nice day!” She graced them a toothy grin before going back behind the counter to play on her phone.
Peter cleared his throat, and dug into this pocket to recover his wallet, retrieving enough for his bill in addition to a very generous tip.
He collected his items and picked up his backpack from where it hung from the back of his chair, slipping it over his shoulders. He waited for Matt and together, they walked out of the coffee shop.
As they exited, they were both hit by the breezy New York air.  However, it wasn’t the cool air that froze Peter in place. Biting his lip, Peter paused and tried to think of what to say next. For some reason, he didn’t quite want to part so soon. So, with a crooked smile on his face, he turned to Matt and said in a playful tone, “I mean-… yeah, it’s not exactly a very subtle bruise. But if it’s any consultation, you’re still pretty good-looking. In fact, it kinda gives you a sort of.. cool, rugged vibe. It definitely fits the whole Neo persona you’ve got going on.”
-
Matt, despite his best acting to the contrary, indeed noticed the retreat of Peter's hand and found himself a little disappointed by it.
That disappointment came as a bitter surprise.
His mouth went dry when that thought dawned on him, the twang and frown which followed the retreat was due to some desire for the opposite, for some progression of a physical act.
It struck him like a ton of bricks, and he'd been under a crumbling wall or two he knew the crushing weight, was he… attracted to the man across from him?
Matt felt his stomach drop and just as suddenly felt his mouth was dry, he wasn't sure what to make of those feelings, wasn't sure where to start.
But the phone conversation was enough interruption for him to regain some sense of composure and push that idea far far from conscious thought.
Though he still seemed a little out of it after he hung up the phone, his words a little distant;
and as the barista spoke to them, he offered only that tight lipped smile as he fished out his own wallet in which the bills were carefully marked with specific folds to denote their value.
He left a ten and stood, putting his bag over his shoulder and unfolding the cane so all the pieces clicked into place before he followed Peter out of the small cafe and into the bright spring air.
He too hesitated on the sidewalk, wringing the top of his cane as the silver tongued law student found himself at a loss for words.
He was saved by Peter's quirky quipp, and another of those laughs escaped him, a little surprised and charmed and he turned back towards Peter, hesitating a moment before shaking his head, trying to hide the rising blush to his cheeks.
"I...no. I mean I guess I will have to take your word for it. And hope to god that you are right."
He took a step backward, only to rock back in Peter's direction.
"So… of course I will let you know if I come across anything important but… um…"
He hesitated again, draggin his teeth over his bottom lip.
What was he doing? What was he even saying? He didn't know, but whatever cap he had started to force down onto his thoughts of attraction were blown sky high as his heart hammered in his chest.
"-would you like to… do this again? Maybe tomorrow? We could talk about anything we dig up?"
Excuse. Matt would solve this tonight and then tomorrow they would be free to talk about anything else that wasn't as depressing as this case.
-
At the sight of a flustered Matt Murdock, a laugh, some would say almost borderline giggle, escaped from Peter’s lips. His eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth, more than a little shocked that came out of him. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he had actually laughed like that. Certainly not since Gwen, but he didn't dare dwell on that thought nor its implications. At least for now.
Although slightly mortifying, he didn’t really mind. It was a well warranted response. The reaction he’d gotten out of the normally calm and collected lawyer-to-be was pretty adorable and deep down, in a secret part of the young mutate, he wanted to see it again.
So as Matt rocked forward, Peter  gravitated towards him and took a step closer. 
“Oh? Yeah?” he cleared his throat in an attempt to regain the reigns on his boyishly excitable composure and nodded. “I would like that a lot actually…Er, cause you know, the case. Is important. And we gotta get to the bottom of this…stuff…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “But yeah, I’m just a quick text or phone call away.”
Peter tried to think of something else to say. Anything else. But unfortunately, he came up empty handed. So he sighed and said with an air of finality, “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then, Matt Murdock.” He reached forward, and actually following through with it this time, he patted the taller man on the shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before finally taking a few steps backwards. However, he only got so far before he added, “Take care. And don’t go beating up too many muggers now.”
He twisted forwards and continued on his way, resisting the strong urge to look back.
As soon as he had made it a block away, Peter ducked into the closest alleyway and pressed himself against a brick wall. Rolling up his sleeves, he revealed the two web-shooter cuffs and slid them down the length of his arms to rest comfortably at his wrists. Then, throwing his arm up in front of him, he lightly pressed a finger to the touchpads on his palm and shot a web onto the building’s parapet. Minding himself and the secret identity he still had to protect, he glanced over his shoulder, making sure he wasn’t the subject of any prying eyes. Satisfied no one was watching, he catapulted himself up to the top of the roof and landed gracefully on both feet. With adrenaline now kicking through his veins, he exhaled an elated sigh. God, he never got tired of that.
Wind rustled through his soft, brown fringe as he crouched down on one knee and surveyed the surrounding streets that seemed to breath with life and sound and movement from every inch and every corner and beyond what his sharp spider eyes could see. From the taxi-cabs that honked their horns, and the beat boxers with their loud stereos, and the hundreds of people on the street making their daily commutes. All of this could be overwhelming for your regular tourist, but Peter knew this city and adored it. It was the only home he ever had and it was time he got to working on protecting his community.
He rolled out the tight spandex from the depths of his bag. Shedding off his jacket, he started plucking away at the buttons of his shirt, gradually exposing his skin to the cool New York weather as he changed into his tight, formfitting suit.
It was time for him to do a bit of investigating of his own now, find some useful tips, maybe help a kid with their math homework along the way- the usual Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman business- and somehow mentally prepare himself to see Matt again tomorrow.
-
The silvery ring of Peter's laugh made every hair on Matt's neck stand on end, a bolt of cold electricity shot up his spine and for a moment he felt tipsy, as if he hadn't had a coffee and bagel but instead a few shots.
When he did come back to his senses he was nearly bowled back over by his next revelation.
Dopamine. Serotonin.
It wasn't something he had learned to identify until he was much older, something he had run up against when he came into himself more and others took notice of him. When he started having fun with people again rather than hiding from the world.
And it meant that whatever Matt was feeling wasn't entirely unrequited or unreasonable. 
Peter was genuinely happy, that silvery light laugh was no fake to make him feel good.
Matt's own blush only deepened, creeping up from his neck as Peter accepted his offer to meet again the next day, but he was a little bit smoother about containing himself now and offered a light smile as he nodded his head, but it all almost fell back apart when he said Matt's name. He felt something turn in his stomach in a way it hadn't in a very very long time. The last time he had felt that tug was- ah no, best not to think about her.
He regained his composure enough to offer a softer,
"You sure will see me tomorrow, Peter Parker."
Before he too stepped backwards, pausing only to catch the parting joke, which admittedly got another little laugh from him before he shrugged, cane in hand,
"Hey somebody's got to give em hell." He called back before finally making himself turn and sweep the cane as he started down the sidewalk.
He was lucky enough to be able to hear him without having to look back, the shuffle to his step and the skip of his heart.
He strained himself to listen as long as he could, nearly walking right off the sidewalk at the other end of the block before a car horn brought him to his better senses.
"What has gotten into you?" He mumbled under his breath and shook his head slightly as he picked up his pace, making less of a show of actually using the cane as he moved back towards his apartment only a few blocks away.
Normally he would wait for nightfall to hit the rooftops, but this wasn't a normal run, this was a rescue mission, and he had to find the kid tonight, he didn't have time to drag his feet and flirt with cheeky reporters.