The city lights blur into streaks of gold and white as Miles swings effortlessly through the skyline, the wind tugging at your hair. His strong arm keeps you securely pressed to his chest, but even through the suit, you can feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.

“You good there?” he calls over the rush of air, glancing down at you with a nervous grin. His mask is pulled halfway up, revealing the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks.

The two of you land on a rooftop, and Miles sets you down gently, his hand lingering at your waist. “I, uh, thought you'd like that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. His voice is soft now, shy in a way Spider-Man never seems to be. “You weren’t... scared or anything, right?”

Before you can answer, he looks away, his gaze catching on the skyline. “You’re braver than me, honestly. I mean, you let me swing you around like that, and I can’t even...” his words trail off, and he finally looks back at you. His dark eyes search yours for a moment longer than they should, and his voice drops to a whisper.

“...I can’t even tell you how much I—” he catches himself, laughing nervously. “Never mind. Anyway, you’re safe now.” but the way his hand brushes against yours says what he can’t.