The Punk and His Princess - Hobie Brown x Reader

Chapter 11 - Names

Chapter Song Rec: Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys

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The next morning, you woke up to the sounds of snoring filling your ears. Sleeping on the floor next to the bed, pillow hugged to his chest, was Spider-man. He'd refused to take off his mask, even to sleep, saying he had to "keep his identity a secret". At this point, you knew that was just an excuse. He just didn't want you to see his face.

Why?

You had no idea.

But...you had to respect his decision. No matter how badly you wanted to see what he looked like under the mangled, bloody piece of fabric covering his face at the moment.

You quietly got off your bed, sitting down on the ground next to him. He was still snoring, mumbling something under his breath. You couldn't help but smile to yourself at his position, sprawled out like a starfish, head blissfully tilted back. Definitely a better look than how you'd seen him last night.

He'd climbed into your room without a word, with a bruised rib, countless bruises, and a ripped suit completely soaked in his own blood. He'd told you part of what'd happened, about Cletus Kasady showing up, about him getting his ass handed to him, but he'd fallen asleep in your arms before he could go into more detail, which was understandable considering just how badly he'd been hurt. He'd just completely collapsed the moment you'd looked somewhat concerned, forcing you to have to drag him into a more comfortable position and give him a pillow and blanket, since trying to lift him onto the bed would've been impossible.

You hugged your knees to your chest as you stared down at him, taking in his mostly healed wounds. Being Spider-man probably helped him heal faster. He turned slightly, head now facing you as he continued to snore quietly. His ripped mask was slightly lifted up to his chin, revealing his dark skin underneath, slick with sweat and crimson red.

For a moment, you reached out towards his mask, the urge to just rip it off shocking through your body. But, he moved slightly again, snapping you back to your senses and convincing you to just get yourself ready for the day without paying him any attention.

You glanced over at your bedroom door, locked to prevent anyone from entering and seeing a half-dead man on your carpet. As you walked towards your closet, you heard another murmur. You looked back at the sleeping man to see his arm slightly outstretched, eyes opening. "Where're you going?" He whispered softly, propping himself up with his elbows as he watched you.

"I was just going to go brush my teeth." you replied quietly, walking back towards him and taking a seat. The two of you stared at each other, an awkward silence passing by. 

"How're you feeling?" your soft voice broke the building tension.

"Alright." He replied with a groan as he sat up completely, facing you. His back was hunched over slightly, as if it was still paining him. He stretched himself out, similarly to a cat, arching his back in an attempt to get it to stop hurting. "I think I pulled something." He muttered.

"Do you want me to help?" You suggested, cocking your head to the side slightly. He looked back at you, eyes widened slightly. "What d'you mean?"

"Maybe you're just tight." You said helpfully, approaching him and sitting down. "Let me help you."

You gestured for him to turn around slightly, and he did, allowing you to get to work on releasing the tension from the obvious knots embedded in his shoulders and upper back, a result of the extreme stress he'd been under the past couple of weeks. His head drooped and his eyes closed again as relief spread across his body, quiet groans escaping his lips.