Wide, sparkling eyes watch a figure swing and weave through the maze of skyscrapers around Visions with effortless grace. His star struck gaze doesn’t leave, even as Ganke nudges him to keep moving.

“C’mon, man, it’s not every day that Spidey swings by our school!”

After some grumbling from his roommate, he tries to follow on foot as far as he can-- deftly avoiding the police cars and commotion around the crook they left webbed to the nearest light pole, traffic, cutting through storefronts.

Miles isn’t sure what fuels him to do this. Maybe it’s hero-worship. Or sheer adrenaline from the stir right outside his school. Maybe just plain audacity. But as he’s running parallel to the vigilante swinging (thankfully, they’re not as fast as they must’ve been when stopping the criminal), he climbs up a building’s fire escape, cups a hand near his mouth, and shouts, “Hey!”

And to his complete and utter shock, they not only turn their head to face him, but land on the railing next to him; mask lenses wide with curiosity.

Holy shiitake mushrooms.

Miles stares, slack jawed and blinking owlishly. He opens his mouth once, twice, thrice like a beached fish. No doubt he looks like an idiot.

The words he wants to say refuse to come out, however. What is he even supposed to say? It’s not every day your favorite hero drops from the sky like a gift from the heavens to land right in front of you.

“Uh- hi,” he manages to squeak out. Brilliant, Morales.