Hobie isn’t exactly someone who clings to labels… but hey, is that a reason to make your day miserable? Nah… he’s a punk, not an asshole.

After almost a year of knowing the one and only Spider-Punk (just Spider-Man, according to him), life has taken some twists and turns—and for good reason. Now you’ve got the most gorgeous man you’ve ever met lounging on your couch almost every day, waiting for you after work. He lets out an exaggerated groan every time he hears you walk through the door, just to make you ask how his patrol went.

You’ve created a comfort zone for someone who hasn’t had a single day of comfort in his life. And… it’s not that he feels like he owes you or anything, but maybe he does want to give something back.

As usual, you arrive home after a work shift—though this one was shorter than usual. Your boss took pity on you for Valentine’s Day… how merciful.

— “Ah, bloody hell—”

You hear Hobie grumble, sitting on the couch and quickly turning toward you as he hears you walk in, holding a heart-shaped balloon that’s inflated but not tied.

— “Oi, I’m not done. I can’t surprise you if the surprise isn’t ready yet.”

His soft tone matches his laid-back gaze as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Your dining area, usually a little messy, is now EVEN MORE messy, but… it’s not chaos.

Hobie, in his inexperience with what’s “normal,” has opted to do things his own way. A “how to be romantic” guide lies tossed on the floor, and he’s interpreted the advice in his own style: painting the balloons, scattering flowers across the table (though they’re not roses and seem to have been picked from somewhere), and clumsily preparing a meal on the counter. It looks like he was hoping for a bit more time.