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Chapter Text

Alhaitham was going to fail this paper.

Which was ridiculous, considering he’d already done the research, compiled the datasets, and bookmarked twelve peer-reviewed articles to throw in the bibliography.

It was due at 10PM tonight.

All he had left was formatting. Formatting.

Instead, he was dangling eighty feet in the air with a police chopper leading the way and a glitter bomb exploding in his periphery.

“Fantastic,” he muttered to himself, flicking out another webline. “Lumine picks the one weekend to visit Inazuma and everyone forgets how to behave.”

The two robbers weren’t even interesting. Small-time grunts with oversized egos and a bizarre, clockwork-like device of gears that had been used to extract two bank vaults. Alhaitham landed neatly on the edge of a building, upside down, legs anchored to the wall.

Below him, the chase was pitiful.

Two villains. One, a ball of rainbow. One, plain. Two vaults clunking against the pavement, struggling to be dragged like it weighed their collective IQs—which was generous.

He waited until they passed the alley, then dropped down and calmly webbed their ankles together. One scream, one thud, and their clock device went flying. He caught it midair. Easy.

“The Sumeru police force had trouble with this?”

The taller one, face obscured by a cracked visor, started laughing.

“You think we’re just plain robbers? Please!” He held his arms wide. “I’ve been enhanced.”

“Allow me to guess,” Alhaitham said. “You’re the guy who broke into the Akademiya alchemy department yesterday and drank five different potions labeled Do Not Touch.”

The man screamed something incomprehensible and crystallized the webbing around his limbs into jagged green armor.

Alhaitham sighed. He definitely wasn’t going to make tonight’s submission.

As the one-man disco ball started uselessly gnawing through the webbing with unnecessary sparkle, the crystal villain escaped. Alhaitham gave chase.

Then—the villain grabbed a civilian on the street outside the banks.

Blond hair. Red eyes.

A white coat that looked far too stained to be outside of a laboratory.

Alhaitham sighed again. More suffering than before.

“Seriously?” The blond said stiffly in the villain’s grip, glaring like the hostage situation was personally offensive. He didn’t even look afraid as the crystal villain climbed a building. Just annoyed.

Alhaitham landed behind them silently.

“Back off, Spider-Man,” the villain barked. “Or I’ll—!”

“I know,” Alhaitham said flatly, already webbing the guy to the roof pipes. “You’ll monologue. Please don’t.”

The villain didn’t even get the chance to finish his dramatic exit line. One well-placed kick and he crumpled like a dropped geode. Alhaitham caught the blond quickly, one arm tight around his waist, and launched them into the air.

“Is it a talent?” he asked, dry. “Being in the middle of every crime scene in the city?”

“Oh yeah,” the blond snapped, holding onto him with one hand and gesturing angrily with the other, “I totally chose to be at the bank at the exact time those morons decided to play Laser Tag with law enforcement!”

Alhaitham sighed under his mask. Again.

Then braced himself.

“Also—”

There it was.

“You literally threw the Balladeer into the construction site on Deshret Road last week! There were welders working there, you menace! How many times do I have to tell you—"

Alhaitham let the wind drown the rest of it out.

This was his life.

Saving people as Spider-Man after he was bitten by a spider years ago. Juggling his last year left in university as a double major in biophysics and ancient language—a near-inhuman workload—and writing a half-finished thesis on neural impulse control and regenerative brain tech.

Still. None of it felt as exhausting as listening to his roommate complain during a three-block swing.

He dropped Kaveh off on the roof of their shared apartment.

“Hey, you missed a turn,” Kaveh blinked. “I have a job, you know! You can’t just detour me like some stray package.”

A beat.

Alhaitham tilted his head. “Am I your personal uber service now?”

“Well, I didn’t ask to be sent here. You could’ve dropped me off on the streets too?”

“The streets are in disarray right now. Your apartment is safer.”

“My workplace is also safer. And closer.”

“I’m sure your boss won’t mind, Kaveh. It’s already 6PM.” Alhaitham walked back to the edge of the roof. “You’re welcome for the ride home.”

“Oh, you’re so—”

“Try to avoid another hostage situation tomorrow,” he said. “Maybe then I’ll avoid throwing villains around Deshret Road.”

He swung away.

Kaveh shouted after him, something like ‘it’s not just Deshret Road!’.

Alhaitham never exactly wanted to become Spider-Man.

He got bitten by a spider the year before university. It was uneventful.

In the basement lab of the Akademiya’s biosciences wing—he’d been auditing a lecture, bored out of his mind, and hadn’t noticed the beady, sandy eyes until it was too late. He flicked it off. Went back to reading.

The next morning, his vision was sharper. He climbed the bathroom wall by sneezing. He almost told Kaveh—until he accidentally broke the faucet just by gripping it too hard. He didn't want to accidentally break Kaveh too.

He didn’t panic. He’d planned to study it. Document it. Apply for a research grant.

But then Lumine showed up—calling herself the Traveler—in a white-and-blue suit with a floating gremlin sidekick.

“You’ve been leaving residue on the rooftops,” she’d said flatly. “We can track that.”

“I see.”

“…Well, we’re here for a reason.”

She offered to help him. Offered him a suit. Told him the rules.

Alhaitham said no. Too messy. Too noisy. It got in the way of more important things, like reading in peace, and making it into the same university as Kaveh.

But then his grandmother died.

And suddenly everything stopped.

His routines. His clarity. The shape of his life.

Kaveh had shown up at the funeral, wide-eyed and sympathetic, holding his hand with flowers from a corner shop.

Lumine had been there too. Standing just out of the way, giving him an imploring look.

“You have the power to change things,” she said. “You don’t get to walk away from that.”

She talked about the Greater Good. Like that meant something.

Alhaitham didn’t argue at the time. He was emotional, grieving.

In a moment of weakness, he said yes.

A big mistake.

Because here he was, four years later, still stuck in the mess. Suited up at odd hours, crawling over skyscrapers, dodging bullets, punching people who should’ve been too big to punch.

Half an hour later, Alhaitham slipped through the door of his and Kaveh's apartment, a faint throb in his forearm from bringing the villains in, all while thinking about the paper he definitely wasn’t going to finish formatting before 10PM.

He was already composing the extension email in his head when—

“Alhaitham?”

Kaveh appeared from the hallway, toweling his damp hair. He was barefoot, wearing an oversized shirt and striped pajama pants, looking far too at ease for someone who’d just been held hostage.

“You won’t believe who I ran into today!”

Alhaitham didn’t even blink. “Spider-Man?”

“Ugh.” Kaveh flopped dramatically onto their couch.

“You get saved by him every week. And you say the exact same thing every week.”

“Yeah, well, he’s—”

“Annoying?” Alhaitham supplied. “You say that too.”

“You both are, honestly,” Kaveh huffed, folding his arms. “So annoying.”

Alhaitham almost smiled. He hid it by pulling out the takeaway box he brought back from Lambad’s and placing it on the counter.

There was something deeply ironic about it—how Kaveh, who offered spare change to street musicians and talked to lost tourists like they were old friends, was always grumbling about two things.

Spider-Man. And Alhaitham.

And he never once made the connection.

Alhaitham handed the box to Kaveh without a word. Kaveh took it to reheat, but paused, frowning at the edge of Alhaitham’s sleeve.

“Hold still.”

Alhaitham looked down as Kaveh prodded a bruise on his forearm. He tried to pull his arm back, only for Kaveh to keep his grip on it, squinting at the purple welt.

“Did someone bully you again?”

Alhaitham rolled his eyes. “I told you. I’m not a bully victim.”

“Mm. That’s not what I saw when those boys pushed you into a drain.”

“That was more than five years ago.”

“Still.” Kaveh leaned in, inspecting. “This looks new.”

Alhaitham exhaled. “Just something from the lab.”

“You guys wrestle in the lab or something?” Kaveh scoffed, already rummaging in the bathroom. “Why is it so much more violent than mine?”

He returned a moment later with an ice pack. Grabbed Alhaitham’s forearm, gently placing the ice pack against the bruise. “Hold this there.”

Alhaitham took the pack without argument. It was easier to let Kaveh fuss during these moments—all stormy and pinched because he cared more than he wanted to admit.

Then Kaveh was rifling through drawers, mumbling about reckless idiots, until he pulled out a small tin of arnica salve.

“Put this on later, okay?”

Alhaitham accepted it wordlessly, his gaze following the line of Kaveh’s back as he moved.

He leaned against the counter, ice pack pressed lightly to his arm, watching the way Kaveh breezed through the kitchen like he belonged there—

Familiar. Permanent.

So much that it was hard to believe how they'd even ended up like this in the first place.

Seven Years Ago – Zandik Corporation Open Day

Alhaitham didn’t want to be there.

Technically, he was only there to audit one of Zandik Corporation’s quantum archive databases—a reward for winning some Sumeru-wide youth competition. Something about “nurturing genius.” A pat on the back with corporate strings.

He got bored. Wandered off.

The halls were marble and matte steel, lined with interactive screens and glass walls that boasted transparency while hiding everything that mattered. His eyes glazed over—until a voice cut through the buzz.

“…and the Foundation’s smart infrastructure division—founded just six years ago—aims to support a better world, through unrestrained innovation.”

Alhaitham paused.

Down the corridor, a blond boy stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling display, gesturing with one hand and holding a tablet with the other. A small group of school kids trailed after him, wide-eyed.

The boy was polished, practiced, smiling like he meant it.

But there was something in the way he said the slogan—

“Catchy. Especially for a building with seventeen biometric cameras in this hallway alone.” Alhaitham approached, folding his arms.

The blond boy’s smile faltered at the interruption. Just barely. He blinked, and the PR smile was back. Tighter. “Yes. They’re for safety.”

“Unrestrained surveillance under the guise of innovation. Right.”

A beat.

Then the blond boy tilted his head and asked sweetly, “Excuse me—are you a guest speaker?”

“No.”

“Oh.” The boy stepped forward slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper while keeping the smile. “Then maybe don’t heckle interns doing their jobs.”

Alhaitham raised a brow. “What job? You’re parroting a corporate slogan you clearly don’t believe in.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve thought about it, thank you. And just because I work here doesn’t mean I’ve sold my soul to them.”

“Ah? So you don’t believe in surveillance tech for the greater good?”

“Oh, I believe in the greater good. Not in spying on underage kids without their knowledge.”

“There have been multiple cases where hidden nanny cams and trackers saved children,” Alhaitham countered.

“And just as many where that data was leaked, blackmailed, or used for control,” the blond boy responded, his smile gone completely.

Alhaitham merely nodded. “Have you compared the data between the two?”

A frown marred the boy’s face. “Data is inconsequential when it literally comes from the people surveilling. And—who even are you? Are you hearing yourself? Or is your morality outsourced too?”

The tour group was dead silent. One of the younger kids coughed awkwardly.

Then, a security guard turned the corner. “Is there a problem here?”

The blond boy pointed at Alhaitham, crisp. “He’s not with the tour.”

Alhaitham calmly reached into his jacket and held up his visitor badge.

VIP status. Glossy, official.

“Ah—sorry, sir. You must’ve gotten lost,” the guard said, stepping to him. “The auditing meeting rooms are upstairs. I can show you the way.”

Behind the guard, the blond boy repeated under his breath, disbelieving: “Sir?”

As Alhaitham turned to leave, escorted by the apologetic guard, he glanced back.

The blond boy—the intern, probably Alhaitham’s age—was staring after him. Glaring.

Alhaitham didn’t know exactly why, but he smirked back.

Just to show that he won.

Alhaitham had assumed that would be the last time he’d see the rowdy blond intern.

A shame, really. He’d found something almost admirable in the way the boy had held his ground. Most people wilted when Alhaitham challenged them.

He walked through the Akademiya hallways.

Alhaitham had been transferred into one of the elite fast-track programs—a hybrid between pre-university coursework and early collegiate training. His scores had qualified him for advanced placement. He didn’t care much for prestige, but the curriculum looked stimulating.

He walked in five minutes early, expecting quiet.

Instead, he spotted those same fiery red eyes across the room, glowing under soft classroom lighting. The blond boy was laughing at something, probably some classmate’s joke. Then he turned.

Their gazes locked.

And the smile dropped like a switchblade.

Their first class?

Ethics of Technology & Design.

The professor barely had time to explain the topic before they went at each other.

“Let’s talk about the case study I sent you last week. Mass biometric data collection in urban planning and law enforcement. Ethics, applications, potential abuses. Any thoughts?”

The blond boy’s hand shot up instantly.

“Yes, Kaveh?”

Kaveh. So that was his name.

“There’s no such thing as informed consent in a system built on coercion and necessity. People comply because they have no choice. That’s not ethical, it’s exploitation.”

Alhaitham didn’t look up from his notes. “There’s also no safety in blind idealism.”

“Blind idealism wasn’t a topic covered.”

“No, blind idealism refers to the willful ignorance of potential consequences in favor of a comforting worldview. Would you prefer a world that prioritizes liberty over lives?”

Kaveh turned, scoffing. “There’s no evidence that biometric surveillance reliably protects lives. In fact, if you look at Edna 9.2—”

“I have.” Alhaitham finally looked up. “If you looked past the surface reading, the further studies in Oslo, 2017 directly contradict Edna’s conclusions. The data normalization threshold alone invalidates its generalizations about systemic bias.”

Kaveh spun around fully in his seat. “Wow. Glad to see your opinion’s still stuck in dystopia.”

The professor blinked, clearly caught in the crossfire. “I… didn’t know you two had been formally introduced? This is your first day, right, Alhaitham?”

Alhaitham sighed, pen pausing mid-sentence. “Oh, we’ve met.”

They became infamous by the second semester.

Debate class? A war zone.

They’d stand at opposite podiums, eyes narrowed like rival prosecutors in a high-stakes trial. Kaveh gesturing dramatically, Alhaitham unmoved.

“You cannot entrust life-or-death decisions to probabilistic algorithms.”
“You already do. Triage exists. Algorithms only make it more efficient.”

By minute ten, the professor was leaning forward like he was watching an opera. Other students whispered. Some filmed.

Alhaitham always won—technically. The rubric favored precision, citations, and logic over theatrics. But Kaveh never made it easy.

And deep down, Alhaitham suspected the professors kept pairing them just to see what would explode next. Free academic theater.

Their essays were no better.

What began as casual citations quickly became all-out footnote warfare. Kaveh once included a line in a term paper that read:

“See Alhaitham, 3.2.4, in which he contradicts his own stance on state-run AI by favoring distributed surveillance systems.”

To which Alhaitham responded the following week:

“There are critical inconsistencies in Kaveh, 2.2.3—namely, the failure to define ‘ethical design’ beyond aesthetic architecture and vague social utility.”

Their professors gave up trying to stop it. At some point, footnotes outnumbered main paragraphs.

That was how their chaotic pre-university life went. At each other’s throats. The whole time.

But—

When Alhaitham had been pushed into one of the school drains because of his “rough dissection” of one of the seniors’ papers, his PowerPoint slides in a damp USB drive seemed like a lost cause.

He was already prepping a backup script in his head, drying his clothes with the bathroom hand dryers, when Kaveh wordlessly came in, grabbed his thumb drive, and disappeared.

Later, Kaveh came back with a different drive, Alhaitham’s file perfectly recovered, and a new set of uniforms from God knows where.

“Don’t screw it up,” Kaveh had said.

And when the two seniors who pushed him into the drain were suspended, Alhaitham hadn't even known how to thank Kaveh.

A few weeks later, when Kaveh forgot one of his big architectural binders in the library, Alhaitham took it. Sent it to one of the classes he knew Kaveh had, that they didn’t share.

At the end of the day, Alhaitham found a weird little snack in his bag. Some flaky, honeyed thing. He didn’t ask. He ate it anyway.

And then Kaveh graduated the Akademiya.

Even with all his advanced placements, Alhaitham was still two years behind—he had to finish with his cohort. He told himself it didn’t matter. But the class felt a little too quiet after that.

So when he overheard Kaveh muttering something about moving back home, about not being able to afford the city while job hunting and waiting for university admissions—Alhaitham paused. He already had an apartment downtown. Paid off by his grandmother, a long-ago gift.

“You can stay at my place,” he said, like he was offering extra notebook paper. “It’s already furnished. I have the spare key.”

Kaveh blinked. “You—you what?”

“You said you couldn’t afford rent.”

“And you think I’m going to live off your charity?”

“Think of it as cohabitation. I won’t speak to you if that helps.”

Kaveh sulked. Huffed. Turned dramatically away like it was beneath him.

The next day, with his nose high in the air, “I’m only staying until I get an offer. Then I’m moving to the university dorms.”

“Of course,” Alhaitham said.

That was five years ago.

And here Kaveh was today.

Still in Alhaitham’s apartment.

Not moving out despite graduating university and working for the Zandik Corporation.

Pouring out food into a bowl and passing it over with a “this one has too much, you eat this, you’re a growing boy”.

"You're only two years older."

"Don't complain about food, Haitham. It's not good."

And really, Alhaitham had nothing to complain about.

He was fine with this. The dual life. The absurdity. The nightly bruises he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

Because he had Kaveh in both halves of it.

Unknown Location – House of Daena District

The meeting spot was a half-destroyed rooftop in the district, conveniently out of reach of drones, cameras, and civilians.

Inside a teapot. Because that was one of Lumine’s hundreds of secret powers.

She sat cross-legged on a chair, sipping from a bubble tea cup.

Paimon floated beside her, mid-rant. “—and then Zhongli just disappeared again, no message, no nothing, and we were supposed to be picking up the shipment from Liyue!”

Alhaitham crossed his arms. “You always complain about Zhongli. Weren’t you supposed to be in Inazuma?”

“We were! Zhongli was there! And then he disappeared!” Paimon huffed.

Lumine didn’t add to the story, simply offered him a second drink—something fruity with jelly. Alhaitham shook his head. She shrugged and drank it.

“So,” she began, tone shifting. “You took down Crystallizer and Rainbow Disco Ball while we were away?”

“They weren’t difficult. Just loud.”

“They always are,” she muttered, then narrowed her eyes. Glanced at him. “Hey. Is Kaveh still working at Zandik Corporation?”

Alhaitham nodded.

Lumine frowned. “I’ve gotten some reports. Whispers, really. About things happening under the table there.”

Alhaitham shrugged. “Of course there are. Mega science corporations are always messy underneath. There’s no profit in restraint.”

“Their slogan still creeps me out. Talk about the most generic fronts.”

Alhaitham remembered it too well. ‘A better world, through unrestrained innovation.’

Because it was the first thing he heard Kaveh say—years ago, hands waving, voice sharp.

“I’ll gather more intel about it for now, but you should tell Kaveh to be careful.”

Alhaitham nodded, grabbing his backpack.

“I have Miss Lisa after this,” he said, glancing at the time. “I can’t be late. I’ve already missed a paper last weekend.”

“You have time tonight to talk upgrades for the suit?”

“No. I have dinner with Kaveh.”

There was a beat of silence before Paimon giggled, loud and teasing.

Lumine raised her drink, smirking. “Tell him hi for me.”

Alhaitham didn’t reply, but his lips twitched.

A moment later, he blipped out of the teapot and leapt away, swung back into the heart of campus, and landed just outside the lecture hall as the doors opened.

Miss Lisa entered with her usual smile, utterly on time. “Ah, Alhaitham. Good to see you actually present today.”

He nodded once, settling into his seat, already flipping open his notes.

Class passed quietly, diagrams blooming across the projected screens. He took notes mechanically. Efficiently.

But when her lecture turned to entropy and irreversible loss in closed systems, his mind drifted.

Alhaitham had almost told Kaveh about Spider-Man. But Lumine, who was a strict mentor at the time, had said no.

“You can’t.”
“He’s my roommate.”
“All the more reason not to? He’s just a roommate.”
“He wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Still too dangerous.”

Alhaitham was about to tell Kaveh anyway.

Until he realized that Kaveh and Spider-Man?

A whole set of interactions he found himself looking forward to every week.

Chapter Text

Kaveh was in university when the offending vigilante-hero came out to the world.

And while everyone was all ‘oh my god, he saved a baby from a tree!’ and ‘did you see the muscle against that spandex?’

Kaveh? Was infuriated.

Because this green-and-black human-insect?

Threw a car against a scaffold.
One of Kaveh’s scaffolds.

And then he slammed a villain into a building. And then led villains on a wild goose chase around Kaveh’s still-being-constructed sites.

Kaveh’s team was under a scholarship, yes, but that didn’t mean their funding was bottomless.

This vigilante was a direct threat to everything Kaveh was working toward!

So the first chance he got with the spider? He gave him a piece of his mind.

Kaveh had been evacuating from the Zandik Corporation building during a villain attack, all while trying to help some of the injured people out. So he didn’t quite realize that a broken part of the building was falling right above him.

The next thing he knew—he was IN. THE. AIR.

That was how Kaveh found out he got queasy easily.

But as the adrenaline set in and he gaped at the vigilante, his mouth ran itself.

“Hey! Can you maybe stop destroying buildings?”

Silence.

“You threw a car through the scaffold on Gandha Hill. That was mine.”

The vigilante didn’t turn to him.

“And then when we fixed it, you swung through it. Just last week!”

Only the wind in Kaveh’s ear.

Huh. Was the vigilante hard of hearing?

(And okay. Yeah. The comments about muscles? True. Kaveh couldn’t help but notice. He had only those muscles to hang on to in the air. Not his fault.)

They landed in some alley. And the vigilante finally tilted his head. Just slightly. At Kaveh.

So Kaveh sighed. “As I said, could you please stop to think about the urban consequences when you fight people?”

The vigilante still didn’t respond.

He just motioned to the building behind Kaveh, the action sharp. Kaveh turned to see one of the Sumeru police departments. Cyno’s department.

He blinked. Turned back to look at the vigilante—

To find him gone.

“Seriously??”

The next time he got saved during a site inspection, still rambling mid-air at the offending insect, Kaveh realized.

“Oh my god—are you mute? Wait, you’re mute aren’t you—no, that’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s just—God, I can’t believe I’ve been yelling at a mute parkour cryptid! I'm going to hell—”

Then the vigilante sighed so hard. It was the first sound Kaveh heard. It sounded almost… annoyed.

What was the vigilante annoyed at Kaveh for?

Kaveh had cried to Cyno and Tighnari about Spider-Man being mute. It wasn’t intentional. He just felt bad for the guy, having to fight villains like that. How would he cry out if he needed help?

He might’ve told them out loud in the university cafeteria.

It might’ve suddenly gotten all over the newspapers. Oops.

The next time Kaveh saw him, he wasn’t even in the middle of any trouble. The vigilante had just descended upside-down from the university roof, poked his face out, and in a weirdly modulated, robotic voice, went:

“Stop spreading fake news.”

Kaveh screamed.

And when Kaveh ranted to Alhaitham about the vigilante, his roommate didn’t even NOT care.

Worse. He was on Spider-Man’s side.

“He ripped off a decorative cornice last night. An architectural landmark. A heritage site.”

“It was due for a refurnishing anyway.”

“He SWUNG OFF IT LIKE A MONKEY. Public menace. Get a real job!”

“It was either that or let the hostage fall.”

“Why are you backing up a vigilante right now?” Kaveh had asked, arms crossed. “Out of everyone, you’d be the last to—wait. Are you just supporting him to spite me??”

So what if Kaveh had a Pinterest board of architectural inspiration. He was a material science and kinetic architecture specialist.

He so did not have a hidden board of Spider-Man fail memes.

“You broke a statue,” Kaveh had called out as the vigilante dropped him off by the university. “A 12th-century marble statue. You know how long it’ll take to restore that?”

Spider-Man just stood silently, perched on a lamppost like an overgrown bird.

Kaveh sighed. “Maybe you are mute. Maybe that’s why you have that voice modulator. You can just say so, you know. I’m not gonna be mean about it.”

Spider-Man sighed deeply through the mask. Shook his head in exhausted disbelief.

“… Are you calling me stupid or something? Cause that’s what it feels like.”

“I can speak, Kaveh.”

Kaveh blinked. That same robotic voice again. “How do you know my name?”

“You get into trouble so often. How I know your name is the least of your worries.”

The vigilante absolutely radiated smugness.

Kaveh huffed.

“Your voice modulator is ugly by the way.”

“It’s functional.”

“Still ugly.”

So ugly that Kaveh drew him a new design the next time he saved him.

Ugly enough that Spider-Man showed up the next week with Kaveh’s design on his new suit.

Kaveh had the unfortunate luck to meet him almost every week.

He didn’t know why the Zandik Corporation attracted so many villains.

So after some years, it got easier to talk to the spider.

“I’m just saying. Maybe don’t use historical architecture as a shield next time.”

Spider-Man had dropped him off at his workplace after an early bank robbery caused a commotion on his usual route.

And instead of the normal quip backs, the spider just nodded. Once.

“Wait are you—did you just agree with me?”

Kaveh started to notice things, bit by bit.

A villain got too close to the university or his projects? Taken out before they even breached the surrounding radius.

One time, Kaveh had muttered his favorite café name in passing during a rant—next week, it was mysteriously spared in a building collapse. Every other shop there was wrecked though. 

Kaveh said nothing. But he started talking a little softer. Yelled a little less.

Okay. Spider-Man wasn’t so bad.

Today – The Clover Café

The lighting was low, the laughter warm, and the smell of espresso clung to the walls. Kaveh tapped his fingers on the rim of his glass—half-full, half-forgotten.

Alhaitham still hadn’t shown.

“I thought he said seven-thirty,” Cyno said without looking up, already shuffling his deck of cards with a practiced flick.

“He did,” Kaveh muttered, unlocking his phone. Still no message. And Kaveh had texted twice.

Tighnari raised a brow from across the table. “You’re twitchier than usual. Is the Foundation stressing you out again?”

Kaveh managed a smile. “No, it’s good actually. We’re prototyping a new reactor facility—kinetic shielding for the infrastructure in combat zones. Buildings that won’t collapse when someone throws a bus through them. You know.”

“That’s a very specific example,” Cyno said.

Tighnari snorted. “Gods. I’d kill for problems like that. We’re still trying to build data towers that don’t get knocked down by tree stags in heat.”

“Perhaps you should sedate the stags.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’m so close to proposing that.”

Kaveh glanced at his phone again after a buzz. A new message.

Roomie or Alhaitham: Running late. Group project.

Kaveh frowned. “Group project?” he repeated aloud.

Tighnari leaned forward. “With who? That mysterious blonde girl again?”

Kaveh rolled his eyes. “Her name is Lumine.”

“You say her name with so much malice,” Cyno added, dealing the cards.

“No, I don’t. I’ve met her before. She’s fine.”

Silence. Tighnari and Cyno shared a look.

“I just find it funny that—”

“Oh, here we go,” Tighnari muttered.

“Alhaitham always worked alone, right? Ever since the Akademiya! He even refused to be my partner in EL009 that one time! But with her? Suddenly it’s engaged whispers and ‘team bonding’ and ‘collaborative data synthesis’ and—”

“He used those exact words?”

“He might have!” Kaveh’s voice had risen, indignant. “I mean, you guys know him too. How many years did it take for us all to become proper friends? And with her, it’s just showing up one day and—”

BOOM.

The windows shuddered in their frames. Screams echoed from the street, smoke curling upward like someone had just lit a fuse on half the block.

They all turned at once.

Cyno sighed like this was just another Tuesday. “Can we get one night of peace?”

“I just ordered tea,” Tighnari muttered, already rising as people scrambled for the exits.

Kaveh was still in his chair, fingers flying across his phone, sending it to Alhaitham:

Kaveh: where u? stay back. smtg exploded.

“Shouldn’t we get out too?” Tighnari asked.

“We will,” Cyno said. “Once we know it’s not a gas line.”

Sirens started. And right then, a blur streaked past the window—green and black—then stuck to the glass like a damn sticker.

Cyno grumbled under his breath.

“Oh gods.” Kaveh groaned. “You’re here?”

Spider-Man entered the cafe with zero drama, arms crossed, head tilted.

“Shouldn’t you be—I don’t know—looking for whoever’s responsible for that?” Kaveh waved at the chaos outside.

“The Traveler and her sidekick are handling that.”

Cyno frowned. He wasn’t a big fan of the vigilantes, after all. “Her sidekick?”

Before they could get more answers, a thwip of webbing pulled every café patron out through the windows in neat little arcs, depositing them gently onto a nearby rooftop.

Except for Kaveh.

Spider-Man still held on to him.

Tighnari had stared at them, unimpressed. “Hey, Spider-Man? We’re here too, y’know.”

“I know.” And Spider-Man just shrugged, webbed the café guests to safety with a flick of the wrist, and then slung Kaveh straight up into the skyline.

“What the—my friends—” Kaveh started, clutching Spider-Man’s shoulder.

“They’ll be fine. I left the police officer a flare.”

“… okay… and where are you taking me?”

“I saw your roommate on my way here. Thought you might want to check on him.”

Kaveh blinked. Smiled. Huh. That was nice of him to keep a lookout for Alhaitham.

“Oh, right. Thanks.”

They landed a minute later—back on Kaveh and Alhaitham’s apartment rooftop. The familiar concrete. The half-dead potted basil plant in a random corner.

Before Spider-Man could leap too far, Kaveh called out, “Hey—come by tonight.”

“No. No blood samples for research.”

“That was one time.” Kaveh rolled his eyes. “And no. I noticed you twitching your neck during your swings. You’ve got a seam issue. I have a new material I’m working on. It might help.”

Spider-Man tilted his head, clearly amused. Stepped closer. That air of smugness rolling off him. “You pay that much attention to me?”

“You almost dropped me,” Kaveh huffed. “That’s why I remember.”

“I wouldn’t drop you.”

Kaveh blinked. For a second, the gruff robotic tone sounded… weirdly soft.

Then Spider-Man added, “I wouldn’t drop anyone. I can lift a car with one finger.”

There was a mask between them, but Kaveh could 100% bet his entire savings on there being a smirk behind the fabric.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kaveh shoved at the stupid muscled chest. Not blushing. At all. “Shut up. Just come by tonight.”

Spider-Man leaned back. “So insistent.”

“Ugh—you know—fine. Keep walking around with that itch in your neck.”

“Isn’t your roommate going to be around?”

“He’s a little baby, sleeps at ten. It’s adorable.” Kaveh waved it off. “We’re meeting on the rooftop anyway.” Kaveh turned toward the stairwell, not waiting for a response. “See you! Don’t die!”

Spider-Man gave a lazy salute, already stepping off the edge. “No promises.”

When Kaveh got into his apartment, the adrenaline had worn off, and the lights were off. Alhaitham wasn’t back yet. So he kicked the door shut behind him, dropped his bag by the wall, and let himself fall onto the couch with a groan.

Fifteen minutes later, the front door opened again with that familiar soft click.

Alhaitham stepped inside, hair wind-ruffled and hoodie half-zipped. His bag hit the floor with a thud. “You’re home early.”

“There was an explosion,” Kaveh said, waving vaguely at the window. “Spider-Man dropped me off.”

Alhaitham nodded like he’d been expecting that. “Again?”

“Again,” Kaveh muttered, then glanced over. “You didn’t answer my texts.”

“I was in the lab. Reception’s bad underground.”

Kaveh picked at a loose thread in the blanket next to him. “Right. The group project.”

“Mm.”

“…With who?”

Alhaitham raised a brow, unzipping his hoodie. “Why?”

Kaveh shrugged, keeping his tone light. “I mean—you used to always work alone. Said other people were inefficient.”

“I still think that. It’s just a joint thesis section with Lumine. She’s under the same branch.”

Kaveh chewed his lips. “…And how is she?”

“Well?” Alhaitham turned to look at him fully now, brow arching slightly. “Why are you asking?”

“I’m not,” Kaveh said quickly. Too quickly. “I mean I am, but—just—I don’t know what kids are up to these days.”

“You’re only two years older than me.”

“That’s practically ancient, Haitham.”

Alhaitham rolled his eyes, and deposited a small paper bag on Kaveh’s lap. Kaveh blinked. Didn’t ask about the newer scrapes on Alhaitham’s hands. He opened the bag. Saw steaming cheese balls inside.

“They were giving it out for free on the streets,” Alhaitham said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Kaveh bit back a smile.

And there it was again—that subtle tug.
The warmth of being remembered. Looked for.

It had been five years—of cohabiting, of late nights bantering from opposite ends of the apartment, of Alhaitham only ever staying up late if Kaveh was out, of casual conversations that dipped into the personal without warning

Alhaitham. His roommate. His constant.

And Kaveh had already realized it.

Realized how every time Alhaitham stepped into a room now, Kaveh’s heart did that stupid hiccup thing. Every time he smiled—genuinely smiled—it wrecked Kaveh’s entire day.

He liked Alhaitham.
Gods, he really liked him.

But.

He exhaled, closing the paper bag.

If the feelings had been mutual, wouldn’t Kaveh have known by now?

Alhaitham wasn’t shy. He wasn’t unsure. He didn’t do awkward silences or hesitant feelings. If he cared—like that—he would’ve made it clear.

And Kaveh would’ve taken it in a heartbeat.

But the moment never came.

So maybe it never would.

Kaveh let his head fall back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He pressed his palm to his chest, as if that might steady it.

It was fine.

He could live with it.

He had been, for years.

Kaveh crept out of his room barefoot, glancing once toward Alhaitham’s door.

Dark.

Good.

He was probably asleep, tucked in like the responsible little overachiever he was. Cute.

Kaveh, on the other hand, had snuck up to the roof with a prototype folded under his arm and a bag of coconut date bites.

The wind was cooler tonight. Crisp. He stepped out onto the rooftop and glanced around. No sign of Spider-Man yet.

“Figures,” Kaveh muttered, brushing hair out of his face. “Always late—”

Thump.

A quiet sound behind him.

Kaveh turned—

And found Spider-Man standing right behind him. Chest to chest. No space. No warning.

Kaveh yelped. “Oh my god, what is wrong with you?”

Spider-Man tilted his head like always, mask betraying none of the expression beneath—but Kaveh heard the huff of amusement, low and breathy.

“You can’t just sneak up on people like that!”

“You invited me.”

“Try not materializing like a horror villain?”

Spider-Man didn’t reply, just took a step back and leaned on the edge of the railing, casual and feline. Kaveh muttered about dramatic entrances and stalked to one corner, where the rooftop benches and tables were set up.

Then he opened the bag of candied coconut dates, nudging it toward the masked figure beside him. “It’s my roommate’s favorite. I'm finishing them out of spite. Help me.”

Spider-Man looked at the dates for a long time. Too long. Then at Kaveh.

“Why?”

“Just because. He was annoying today.”

Spider-Man blinked. Maybe. Kaveh couldn’t tell. But it took him awhile to answer.

The vigilante turned away, tossing a date in his mouth. “…What did he do?”

“Nothing important,” Kaveh huffed. “Anyways. Here.”

He unfolded the material—a sleek mesh sheet of woven fibers, light-catching, soft but springy to the touch. “I used a high-flex Kevlar and structured silica composite. The weave incorporates micro-particles designed to adapt tighter to motion and better disperse kinetic energy—should help with the neck irritation. That’s the only place with a seam, right?”

Spider-Man stepped closer, picking it up. “Out to get all my secrets?”

Kaveh laughed. “You’re not exactly great at keeping them. The first version of your suit literally had a massive zip sticking out the back.”

“I didn’t have the budget yet.”

“Well, lucky for you, I work at the best place for technology.”

“The Zandik Corporation isn’t going to sue me for possession of material?”

Kaveh grinned. “Good thing I read all the terms and conditions before signing a contract. My ideas are mine alone unless I patent them under the Foundation.”

Spider-Man ran gloved fingers over the surface like he could feel every molecule. There was a subtle shift in his posture. Then he turned back, his masked gaze meeting Kaveh’s again.

“Mm. Lucky me, then.”

Kaveh’s smile lingered for a moment. Then he looked away. Grabbed a date because he didn’t know what to say. Chewed slowly, avoiding Spider-Man’s unseen eyes.

Silence stretched between them, with an energy Kaveh couldn’t quite decipher.

“You do know that I can likely fight in sweatpants and still win.”

Spider-Man wasn’t smirking, not that Kaveh could see—but somehow, he could feel it in the air between them.

“Oh my god.” Kaveh gave him a half-hearted shove. “Get over yourself. Just say thanks and move on.”

They sat on the ledge together like they had a couple of times before—legs dangling high above the city. Kaveh didn’t flinch anymore. Not after the first time, when he'd screamed himself hoarse until Spider-Man had said, calm as ever:

“I’m right here. I can let you fall five seconds headfirst and still catch you.”

“Why would you let someone fall five seconds headfirst?!” Kaveh had shrieked.

He was used to it now. The dizzying height. The thrill of wind in his hair. The strange comfort of the vigilante’s presence at his side. They shared the last of the candied dates Kaveh had insisted on finishing—just to get back at Alhaitham and his group project.

Kaveh popped another in his mouth, continuing his earlier rant—

“What I’m saying is—you shouldn’t hurt yourself trying not to damage a few buildings. I work in architecture. I’ll allow some damage. Approved.”

“So you’ll write me a permit?”

“Only if you stop targeting the crane arms,” Kaveh chuckled. “Those are harder to replace.”

“A fair trade.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Just warm. Familiar. The wind brushing past. The faintest sirens down below. Below them, the city glittered—like someone had spilled stars across the skyline.

“So… your roommate,” Spider-Man said, chewing on a candy. “What happened there?”

“Nothing really,” Kaveh sighed. “He just… disappears sometimes. With other people. Not for long, just—enough to notice. And he doesn’t say anything.”

Spider-Man hummed.

“But it’s not like I can ask where he goes,” Kaveh continued, leaning back on his palms. “Last time I did, we got into a fight.”

“Is he busy?”

“Yeah. I guess. He’s in his final year. Double major.”

“Sounds tough.”

“It is. He doesn’t complain, but…” Kaveh exhaled a small laugh. “He’s always so slinky when he comes back sometimes. Like a child who knows he’s been out too late.”

He smiled faintly—something fond, sad, and almost too tender, remembering how Alhaitham would come back, bruised, eye bags galore, muffling something unintelligible against the sofa. Holding a scarred finger out for Kaveh to see.

“Could you be overthinking it?” Spider-Man asked.

Kaveh scoffed. “I’m always overthinking it.”

Spider-Man tilted his head again. Looking out into the skyline. Then, quietly:

“He probably likes it. Having someone to come home to. If he’s that busy.”

Kaveh blinked. The words hit too honestly. Too plainly. He looked away. “Maybe.”

Spider-Man took another date. Kaveh kept his head looking straight at the horizon, chewing thoughtfully, letting the other man have his privacy.

“Careful,” he said softly. “If I just turn a little—I could probably see you, you know.”

Spider-Man didn’t flinch. The mask had been tugged up, bunched at the bridge of his nose—just enough to reveal his mouth, quietly eating the last of the dates.

He didn’t say anything. Just… breathed. Fingers twitching near Kaveh’s on the ledge, hesitant.

Then—

“Would that be so bad?”
Not modulated.
Not distorted.

A real voice. Soft. Barely a whisper.

Kaveh turned, startled—

And lips met his.

It was gentle. Soft. Hesitant. Just a light pressure—mouth warm and sweet with the taste of dates. A hand braced near Kaveh’s chin, steady but not forceful. Like he was asking.

Kaveh’s breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut. One hand clenching the gravel rooftop, the other hovering—like he might touch Spider-Man’s shoulder—

One heartbeat. Two.

And Kaveh jerked back.

Spider-Man stilled, mask already tugged back down awkwardly.

But Kaveh was already on his feet. Pale. Eyes wide.

“Oh. Um. I—I just—” He stumbled back. Hands up. Rattled. “I have to go!”

And then he turned.

Practically bolted to the fire escape, fleeing like the roof was on fire, like his heart wasn’t hammering loud enough to echo off the stars.

Because what the hell just happened???

Kaveh liked Alhaitham.

His insufferable, unreadable, soft-at-times roommate.

He didn’t know what idea he gave off to the delusional spider. No.

The kiss—changed nothing. He only liked Alhaitham.

Not some vigilante in a skintight suit who always saved him and dropped in at midnight.

…Right.

Chapter Text

Alhaitham hadn't meant to spend this much time around Kaveh as Spider-Man.

Lumine had warned him too back in his first year. Said emotional entanglements made it harder to draw clean lines. “You're not a puppy,” she’d said, exasperated, “you don’t have to come running every time Kaveh stubs his toe on crime.”

But Kaveh kept getting into trouble. Of course he did. Of course one of Zandik Corporation’s favorite scientists, one of the most justice-driven people, was always in the middle of every crime.

And Alhaitham—Spider-Man—always saved him.

At first, he had thought that it would be different. Maybe he would get the version of Kaveh he didn’t usually see: the warm one, the radiant one, the version who smiled with his whole face and talked so brightly to his peers.

But no.
The first thing Kaveh ever did was yell.

Called Spider-Man a “menace in spandex” for destroying his scaffolds. Told him to think about urban planning and to wear reflective gear if he was going to operate at night.

Then—as if that wasn’t enough, he spread a rumor that Spider-Man was mute.

So, naturally, Alhaitham built a voice modulator. Specifically for Kaveh.

And he kept going back.

Because after a while—he enjoyed it. The swinging. The wind. The heat of Kaveh’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. The way Kaveh never shut up but always said something new after a villain attack.

And most of all, Alhaitham liked the mask.
Because behind the mask, he could say anything.

There wasn’t much difference between how he spoke as Spider-Man and how he spoke as Alhaitham. The difference was the freedom from consequence. Behind the mask, he couldn’t lose anything.

If he ever said too much, got too close—Spider-Man could simply disappear.

But roommate-Alhaitham didn't have that luxury. Every word to Kaveh in real life was important.

So while Alhaitham hesitated—second-guessed every sentence, every breath—

Spider-Man didn’t have to.

And Kaveh let him. Listened to him. Argued back. Laughed.

As Spider-Man. And as Alhaitham.

Today – Shared Apartment Kitchen

But now Alhaitham was sulking.
Well. Not out loud.

So much for Spider-Man having freedom from consequence.

He was sitting very still, drinking his coffee a little too slowly at the kitchen counter. Not making eye contact. Not speaking first. 

Because Kaveh was jumpy this morning.

And because Kaveh wasn’t telling him what happened last night.

Which was fine. Kaveh wasn’t obligated to report every interaction he had with Spider-Man. That was expected. Completely reasonable.

Except.

Except Alhaitham didn’t need Kaveh to tell him. Because he was Spider-Man.

And he had kissed Kaveh last night.

After Kaveh had smiled that smile—the one that momentarily stripped away his usual drama, something like an almost yearning affection, talked about Alhaitham like he was something to mourn and hold close all at once.

The stars were out. The city was bright. They were sharing Alhaitham’s favorite snack. It seemed sensible at the time.

And then Kaveh had rejected him. Rejected Spider-Man.

Which could only mean one thing. A logical deduction based on the available data.

If Kaveh didn’t want Spider-Man, he certainly wouldn’t want Alhaitham, either.

Because Alhaitham wasn’t a symbol of hope. A mystery. A self-righteous mask. Alhaitham was just himself. All sharp edges and silence and difficult truths.

There wasn’t enough direct evidence, but his qualitative and anecdotal observations were consistent. A pattern, emerging clearly now. Grounded theory. He gathered the input first, then formed the conclusion.

Hypothesis:
Kaveh was not interested in men.

Or, at the very least, not in him. Or Spider-Man.

So Alhaitham sulked sat at the counter with his coffee, motionless, feeling a dull ache in his chest and pretending it was just an early morning chill.

Then Kaveh walked in, dressed and ready, but visibly off. Still quiet. Still smiling that crooked, guilty smile like his mouth hadn’t gotten the memo from the rest of his face. Like he had something to hide.

Well. That made two of them.

“I’m gonna head off to work first,” Kaveh said, eyes fixed anywhere but Alhaitham. “You gonna come back like usual today or do you have more… group projects? … or studying?”

He tugged his hair behind his ear as he said it, then chewed on his inner lip. A nervous tell. Kaveh always did that when he had more to say but didn’t want to say it.

“I’ll be back late today,” Alhaitham replied, steady.

He almost took it back when Kaveh’s smile faltered. Just slightly.

But. Alhaitham was heartbroken as well. So it was reasonable.

Kaveh sighed. “Fine. I’ll ask Tighnari and Cyno if they want dinner instead. Hopefully we don’t get interrupted by another villain this time.”

Alhaitham watched him. Kaveh was fiddling with his hands now.

He considered. Then asked, lightly:
“Spider-Man will save you, no?”

Kaveh froze.

Too guiltily. Too fast.

He was not made for theatre. At all.

“Um. Yeah. But he’s like… busy, y’know,” Kaveh said, waving a hand vaguely in the air. His expression twisted into something complicated. “He probably has a real-life job. Maybe. Or other civilians to think about. Cats stuck in trees. Elderlies to help cross roads. All of that.”

He was rambling.

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow. “Spider-Man… busy?”

“Yeah. He probably needs a break.”

“A break?” Alhaitham repeated, slow and deliberate.

“Yeah. I don’t know. A break.” And then, as if to bury the awkwardness, Kaveh gave him jazz hands.

Jazz hands.

As if that would clarify anything.

Alhaitham stared at him, deadpan, then sipped his coffee.

Did Spider-Man need a break? Or did Kaveh?

The silence stretched.

Then—like a storm changing direction without warning, Kaveh burst into motion. A whirlwind of fake cheer and scattered energy, grabbing his bag and keys and slipping on his shoes with too much noise.

“Anyway! Bye! Don’t forget to eat something!” he called, halfway out the door already. “Text me when you get to school!”

The door shut.

Alhaitham sat in the silence that followed. Stared at the empty kitchen.

And then the thought hit him: What the hell was Kaveh even doing? Letting masked men kiss him on rooftops?

He had no sense of danger at all.

What if it hadn’t been Alhaitham behind the mask?

He huffed quietly, the sound lost in the empty room.

Sumeru University, Underground Basement Three – Ballistics Testing Laboratories

After classes, Alhaitham went to the lab.

Specifically: the hidden corner lab that Lumine had taken over with Paimon to be their second base outside of the tea pot.

He knocked once, out of courtesy, and let himself in.

“Oh hey,” Lumine said, glancing up from a console. “You’re early.”

“I brought this,” Alhaitham said, setting a folded bundle of fabric on the table. The one Kaveh gave him—gave Spider-Man—last night. “For my suit.”

Lumine pulled the material free. It caught the light like silk and shadows mixed together, impossibly soft but cool to the touch. She rubbed a thumb along the surface, brow raised.

“Oooh. Technology that even I don’t have?” she looked at him. “From… Kaveh?”

Alhaitham didn’t answer.

Lumine smiled anyway. Draped the fabric over a mannequin. Held her hand out. Then shot a beam of slicing wind at it. Just casual.

The room shook a bit. The furniture blew back a fraction. Paimon ‘whoa whoa-d’ while flying backwards. Alhaitham caught her.

When the wind died down, the material was unmarred.

Lumine grinned at him. “You think Kaveh can make me some, too?”

“He’s not a tailor.”

“But it’s so soft. Like crime-fighting pajamas! Come on.”

Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey, why are you so frowny today?” Paimon asked, hovering with her arms crossed.

“I’m always frowny,” Alhaitham said flatly.

“No, no,” the gremlin said. “Usually you just look dead inside. Today you look like someone said your thesis was mid.”

Lumine snorted. “Yeah. Shouldn’t you be happy Kaveh gave you this material? If only I had a scientist boyfriend working at the #1 tech company.”

Alhaitham’s eye twitched. Too soon.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Hm. Does he even know?” Lumine asked, eyebrows raised. “That you like him?”

“No.”

“Have you told him anything? At all? Even, like, a compliment?”

“I buy him food and let him stay in my house.”

Paimon tutted. “You’re worse than a 1950s dad in a soap opera. Just grunting and hoping he gets it.”

“I kissed him.”

Both of them froze.

Blinked.

Alhaitham didn’t mean to tell them. But. Oh well.

“You what?”

“I kissed him,” he repeated. “As Spider-Man.”

Lumine made a face. “Oh no.”

Paimon screamed into her hands. “WHY would you do that—wait no how did it go??”

“He said he wanted a break,” Alhaitham said. Cool. Calm. Dying inside.

Lumine winced.

“So now he’s jumpy, quiet, pretending it hadn’t happen,” he continued, “And I am being normal about it.”

“You’re moping,” Paimon corrected. “That’s why you’re so frowny.”

Then she landed on Kaveh’s material. And paused. Placed both hands down. Rubbed her face against it. Turned back to Alhaitham.

“Hey, it is soft. Can I use this if there’s any leftovers?”

Alhaitham nodded. Glad for the change of topic.

Paimon clapped. “Yay! See? He likes me more than you!”

Lumine stared at both of them, betrayed. “I see why Kaveh rejected you.”

Alhaitham’s face twitched. Still too soon.

Alhaitham got the text at 10:42PM.

Tighnari: come get your mans [location]

His eye twitched again.

Too soon. Again.

But he went anyway.

The bar was dim, the air thick with conversation and low music. Cyno was nursing a lime soda and Tighnari was sitting across from him.

And Kaveh—was slumped over the bar, empty glass in one hand, the other dramatically spread across his forehead like a Victorian widow.

“He’s had three drinks,” Tighnari said as Alhaitham approached. “Three. Not even the strong kind.”

“What else is new,” Alhaitham muttered, sliding an arm under Kaveh.

“Perhaps you should join us next time so he actually drinks at a moderate pace,” Cyno said bluntly. “He says you’re always busy. And then pouts.”

Kaveh cracked an eye open. “Haithaaaaam?”

Alhaitham sighed.

He piggybacked Kaveh home. Streetlights overhead. City quieting around them. Kaveh’s breath warm against the back of Alhaitham’s neck.

“You said,” Kaveh murmured, “you were gonna come back late…”

“Yes,” Alhaitham said, adjusting his grip. “And then you went and got drunk.”

Kaveh hummed, forehead resting between Alhaitham’s shoulder blades. “Didn’t have to come… need to sleep… so much studying.”

Alhaitham’s heart—traitor that it was—ached a little. In a warm, miserable way.

He glanced back over his shoulder, though Kaveh probably couldn’t see. “What? Would you have preferred Spider-Man to come get you?”

Just a test. Just to see.

Kaveh’s head shook against him. And quietly: “No… like you better…”

Alhaitham almost stopped walking.

His foot hovered, frozen in the air for a second before he forced it forward again.

“What do you mean?”

The only answer he got was a soft snore against the back of his neck.

He laid Kaveh down gently in his bed. Pulled the blankets over him. Watched him for a beat too long.

Then sat down on the edge of the bed. Stared at the wall. Tried to puzzle it out.

Spider-Man wasn’t enough. But Alhaitham was?

Or could that have had a platonic connotation?

His anecdotal shards of evidence weren’t helping him.

His phone buzzed.

[Alert]: Suspected villain attack – Valley of Dahri. Immediate action.

He exhaled heavily. So much for sleep.

Sumeru University – Exam Hall

Kaveh had some sort of TED Talk today—something about Nickel-Titanium alloys and multi-block co-polymers.

Alhaitham couldn’t go. He had an exam. Kaveh said he’d record it. It was fine.

Until the Akademiya started exploding.

Alhaitham didn’t flinch. Just marked the last answer on his paper.

Then bolted before his lecturer could even look up.

He saw the chaos from the rooftops first. The Akademiya courtyard overrun. Students fleeing.

And Kaveh—of course—running around the center of the chaos.

Carrying two kids, yelling over his shoulder. Always doing more than he should.

The villain was a walking nightmare: a mechanical octopus with too many limbs and far too much wiring. Alhaitham webbed down a falling support beam, then snagged two students mid-stumble. Landed just in time to yank Kaveh out of the way of a swinging metal arm.

Kaveh clutched onto him, warm, stiff, not speaking as they swung.

But as Alhaitham let go to launch back into the fray, he heard it—just barely, just behind him:

“Don’t die!”

He took a little longer than usual to end it this time. The villain basically had eight weapons, all long limbs and stretching everywhere.

“You already made me submit an exam early, at least make this easy,” Alhaitham muttered, dodging the flailing metal arms. “I didn’t even get to double check.”

He pinned each tentacle to the Akademiya tower pillars. Deduced where the generator was. Webbed that. Then, with an annoyed huff, he punched the man at the controls hard enough to make the metal groan.

Finally—quiet.

He turned, instinctively, toward where he last saw Kaveh.

And Kaveh was already watching him.

And then—

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE SPIDER-MAN!!!”

A child.

“Spider-Man?”

Then another.

“AAAAAA SPIDER-MAN!”

Then ten more.

Suddenly, he was being swarmed. Little voices shouting his alias, tugging at his suit, asking questions he couldn’t answer.

Alhaitham blinked. Overwhelmed. He was good at the saving. Not the… talking.

“Excuse me, uh, it’s still dangerous here,” he said. “How about we retreat from the octopus man?”

Surprisingly, they listened. All because a certain blond architect appeared with their teacher in tow, gently herding them away.

Alhaitham gave Kaveh a look behind the mask. A pointed head tilt. To not say anything. Kaveh raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking faintly.

When the kids were gone, Alhaitham turned to him. “Your conference was for kids?”

Kaveh smiled. “No. But there was an open science lab for them upstairs.” He frowned suddenly. “Wait. How did you know I had a conference here?”

Alhaitham’s eyes twitched behind his lenses. A rookie error.

Then—his gaze flicked to a poster behind them. Where Kaveh’s name was bolded as one of the conference speakers. His saving grace.

He pointed. Kaveh nodded.

It was awkward after that.

Alhaitham shifted. He didn’t know if he should send Kaveh home as per usual. Or leave. Because Kaveh had said he wanted a break from Spider-Man.

So Alhaitham sighed. Webbed the nearest lamppost. And left.

Kaveh didn’t call out to stop him.

Two hours later: another villain attack.

And guess who was in the area.

It was like the universe was conspiring to keep them in close proximity—a cruel twist of fate.

He swung down just in time, webbed Kaveh to him, away from a falling debris mass, and leapt up out of the street.

And this time—

Kaveh didn’t scold him. Didn’t unleash his usual torrent of architectural grievances. Didn’t even ramble despite Alhaitham breaking at least two chunks of the Akademiya roof earlier.

Just held on silently.

They landed with a soft thud on the rooftop of their apartment complex, the evening sun setting behind them.

Kaveh stepped back and offered a small, awkward smile. “Thanks.”

Alhaitham nodded stiffly. Already turning to leave.

But then, Kaveh’s voice, soft:

“Wait.”

Alhaitham paused. Pulse in his ears. He turned back, just his head this time, just his masked gaze.

Kaveh rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Alhaitham.

“I just—I wanted to say… I’m sorry. About that night.”

Alhaitham blinked behind the mask.

“I thought about it, and… I’d probably be really hurt if someone ran after I kissed them. So… I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper.

Alhaitham said nothing, the robotic modulator amplifying the silence. Because what was he supposed to say?

Kaveh took a shaky breath. And like a dam breaking:

A gush of words. A torrent of them.

“Look, I panicked, okay? My brain just short-circuited. It’s not you. You’re… great,” he laughed unevenly. “You’re just like my roommate actually. It’s uncanny. You even sulk the same way, now that I think about it. Isn’t that funny?”

Behind the mask, Alhaitham twitched. No. No, it was not funny.

Kaveh sighed, a sound heavy with resignation. He turned away. Then back to Alhaitham. “God, this is so stupid. Listen—”

And then he stepped closer. Lifted his head. Gaze locked onto Alhaitham’s unseen eyes. Earnest. Nervous.

And then—

“I like someone else.”

The words hung in the twilight air, heavy and final.

Alhaitham’s heart dropped. The breeze suddenly chilled.

Oh.

Understood. The scholar life suddenly felt less like a distant possibility and more like an inescapable fate. Alhaitham would teach quantum lattice structures. To undergrads who didn’t care. A quiet, dusty existence until he retired alone.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said this out loud,” Kaveh said, voice thick with emotion as he resumed his restless pacing. “This is crazy.”

Alhaitham just watched. The setting sun casting long shadows across his mask.

Then Kaveh stopped again. Spun to him, shoulders squared, as if he’d reached a point of no return. His brows furrowed with a mixture of lingering nervousness and fragility. He took another deep breath.

And—

“I’m in love with my roommate.”

.
.
.

Ah.

So Alhaitham's earlier hypothesis was wrong.

The silence stretched.

For many, many beats.

Alhaitham couldn’t reply.
Couldn’t say anything.

And Kaveh?
Kaveh just kept going.

“He’s infuriating,” Kaveh said, like he’d been holding it in too long. “Brilliant. Completely emotionally unavailable. The kind of guy who forgets his own birthday and also yours.”

A breath. A laugh that didn’t quite make it out whole.

“But he’s also the only person I actually feel safe with. The worst part is he doesn’t even notice. I bet he’d be a terrible boyfriend.” A crooked smile. “I’ve lived with him for five years, you know. And we’ve just… remained how we’ve always remained.”

Alhaitham’s throat felt dry. He wanted to speak. Move. Do something.

But he just stood. Frozen in the suit. Mind racing a thousand miles per second.

Kaveh didn’t notice. Or perhaps he did and mistook it for discomfort.

He rubbed at his face, groaning into his palms. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I guess I just wanted to explain.”

Alhaitham still didn’t move.
Because Kaveh had just confessed. To him.
Without realizing it.

Kaveh tilted his head. Frowned a little. Probably because Spider-Man hadn’t said a single word.

“Wait. Sorry,” he sighed, stepping back. “That must’ve been insensitive. You kiss me and then I tell you I like someone else? Ugh. Sorry. Again. I’m saying that too much, aren’t I?”

Then, before Alhaitham could even shake off the first round of shock, Kaveh stood up.

“Anyway,” he said, voice faltering, “thanks for always saving me. And I’m sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression. About that. No hard feelings about the kiss. And, um, I understand if it’s going to be... awkward after this.”

He wrapped his arms around himself. The wind caught his hair, stunning in the dusk sky.

But—he looked smaller than usual.

“I’ll try to stay out of trouble.”

And that—that—made Alhaitham blink. Straighten.

He tilted his head. Finally moved.

But Kaveh was already walking toward the fire escape.

“See you around? Maybe…?” Kaveh called, not looking back. He gave a weak wave, sheepish and uncertain. Then disappeared into the stairwell.

The door slammed softly behind him.

And Alhaitham remained on the rooftop.

Still speechless.
Still rooted to the ground.

His heart hammering like it was trying to punch through the suit.

Kaveh had just poured out long-buried feelings to him—but thought he’d told it to someone else.

He’d said he felt safe with him.
That he was in love with Alhaitham.

But the irony was a sharp, bitter taste.

All these years of carefully constructed walls, of maintaining the separate identities, the logic of protecting Kaveh by keeping him in the dark—

The life he’d constructed—quiet, secretive, logical—had left no room for Kaveh to know him. The Alhaitham with the mask. Not really. Not easily.

But definitely not after this.

Because Kaveh—how would Kaveh even take that.

This wasn’t bad luck. It wasn’t an anomaly.
It was cause and effect.

Alhaitham stared at the door for a full minute.

Then sat down on the edge of the rooftop, mask still on, the lights of the city blurring below him.

He’d fought supervillains with just fists. Built his own compression webshooters. Memorized every emergency evacuation route in Sumeru.

He had so many variables accounted for.

And still… he had no idea what to do next.

Not as Spider-Man.

And definitely not as Alhaitham.

Unknown Location, Underground Private Labs – Room 05

Inside a reinforced glass enclosure, a rhesus macaque paced unevenly. One arm missing. The stump crudely tourniqueted, flesh discolored beneath the bandage.

It grew restless. Agitated.
Snarling. Slamming its body against the walls. Screeching.

Then—froze. Convulsed.

Something pulsed at the site of its lost limb. A slick mass of tissue writhed into shape. Not quite flesh. Not quite machine.

The ape thrashed. Wailed.

A beat later, the growth abruptly ceased. The animal collapsed, heaving shallow, ragged breaths.

A sharp tap echoed against the glass.

The chamber hissed open.

Loud, heavy, jarring footsteps. A scalpel glinted under sterile light. A figure in a crisp white suit crouched beside the twitching creature.

“Mm,” came the voice, clinical. Almost bored. “Let’s try this again.”

Chapter Text

Kaveh didn’t know if Spider-Man was going to keep saving him.

Whatever. It was fine.

He could be careful. He would be careful.

Kaveh would commit. He could avoid dark alleyways. And explosions. And—whatever it was that magnetized villains to his general vicinity. It wasn’t like he wanted to be targeted.

Maybe it was the Zandik badge? Yeah. He should probably hide it now.

Because Kaveh had told the masked menace—vigilante—the whole truth. His whole heart. Practically served it on a plate with shaky hands. And the guy just stood there. Said nothing. Nothing.

He probably hated Kaveh by now.

Kaveh groaned into his pillow. “Why did I even do that? Stupid, stupid.”

He had spent weeks on that material too!

Dozens of late nights designing, testing durability, comparing stretch tolerances, triple-stitching the edges so it could withstand a rocket blast. All for someone who probably wasn’t even going to show up again.

Mm. Could he ask for it back?

No. No, that would be weird.

But—maybe a little awkward “hey-if-you’re-not-gonna-use-it-can-I-recycle-the-fabric” text wasn’t too desperate, right? Just eco-conscious.

Ugh.

“This is fine. At least I’m not Spider-Man, right? Hm. Must suck to be kissed and then immediately be emotionally monologued at about someone else.”

He heard something crash from Alhaitham’s room. Hm. At least Alhaitham never pushed him away or said he liked someone else.

Silver linings.

And speaking of Alhaitham—

“Here.”

Alhaitham’s voice cut in, soft and close behind him, holding the mug Kaveh had been reaching out for.

Kaveh blinked. “...Thanks?”

Alhaitham just nodded. Like he’d just solved a complicated equation. Like that wasn’t weird at all. Then he turned and walked right out of the kitchen.

Kaveh stared after him.

Because why was Alhaitham acting weird now??

All restless. And awkward. Maybe even flustered? Except Alhaitham didn’t do flustered. His entire emotional range typically cycled between “unbothered,” “mildly inconvenienced,”, “stoic disdain,” and just sometimes, when the moon was blue, “baby boy.”

But lately?

He was closer. Nicer. Always standing nearer. Always watching Kaveh.

Literally yesterday morning—when Kaveh had been slipping on his shoes by the door, half-asleep and late for work—Alhaitham had stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Have a nice day,” he’d said. Softly.

Kaveh had stared. Heart skipping. Probably blushing. “You too?” he’d managed, voice higher than usual.

And today?

Alhaitham had come back from university with a bag of treats—and instead of saying ‘they were free’ or ‘it was a charity cause’ he had said:

“I thought you’d like it.”

Kaveh flopped on the couch, buried his face in his hands, and groaned again.

WHAT WAS HAPPENING?

Other than that. Kaveh was doing great.

He hadn’t tripped into a construction site in at least two weeks.

No shady villains had tried to catch him.

The last time someone tried to rob a café, he’d been on the other side of town—safe, warm, sipping an oat milk latte and definitely not thinking about a masked menace who hadn’t visited in days.

Honestly. Kaveh was girlbossing this whole staying out of trouble thing.

He spoke too soon.

Kaveh was ranting about the Zandik Corporation’s new “ego-stroking excuse of a public design plan”, occasionally tugging at Alhaitham’s sleeve to emphasize a point. And Alhaitham was nodding along, halfway through his thesis edits, a shared basket of fries between them.

Then—

Screams. A distant crash. Then closer.

Kaveh had grabbed Alhaitham’s wrist instinctively—pulling them through the café’s chaos—but something ripped them apart.

“Kaveh!”

He barely heard Alhaitham shout before something cold and wet and disgusting latched around his waist and dragged him up.

He screamed. Struggled. Kicked. Anything to NOT lose his two-week streak.

“He’ll come. They said he’ll come. Spider-Man always comes for you.”

It was a villain—slimy and translucent and talking to himself.

“What?!” Kaveh shrieked, still wriggling as the thing slithered up the side of the building.

“He’ll want to talk to me!” the villain insisted again, eyes darting. “He has to!”

And then they were on the rooftop.

And then Kaveh was plummeting through the air.

Because the slime villain had absolutely NO GRIP.

“OH MY GOD—”

For a second, it really did feel like karma.
Like. Of course this was how it ended.
Kaveh rejected Spider-Man, and now he was going to die.

But—

Arms caught him. Familiar. Wam. All lines and grooves of muscle under his own hands.

“Kaveh,” a voice said—distorted, mechanical.

Spider-Man.

“Are you okay with heights?” he asked.

Kaveh blinked up, wind in his face, heart slamming in his chest. “Um. I think?”

“Good. Wait here.”

And before Kaveh could even formulate a response, he was planted on top of a neighboring skyscraper, legs wobbly, sun and hair whipping his face, gripping onto the only beam around.

“What the hell?!”

From his high vantage point, he saw Spider-Man launch himself back toward the villain—and the fight didn’t last long. A few web shots. A kick. And then the villain was webbed and groaning and very much defeated.

Showoff.

Spider-Man returned, slinging around a little too casually on such a TALL SKYSCRAPER.

“What happened to staying out of trouble?”

“I tried!” Kaveh grumbled. “I was really good at it too! Until that slime showed up. Ugh, and now I’m all icky—”

He pulled out his phone. Frowned. No text from Alhaitham.

He sighed. “Seriously?”

“Oh. Here.” Spider-Man reached into a belt pouch and held something out.

Kaveh blinked. Alhaitham’s phone??

“He dropped it,” Spider-Man said. “I saw him with the evacuees, looking for you.”

“…Okay.” Kaveh narrowed his eyes. That was unlike Alhaitham. “Then let’s go. Send me back down.”

“Mm. No.”

“What?”

“I’ll send you back. Routine every time I save you, right?” Spider-Man was already slipping an arm around him. “Your roommate’s probably on his way.”

“Wait—whoa—”

Too late. They were swinging again, and Kaveh yelled, “I WAS HOLDING TWO PHONES—GIVE ME A HEADS-UP FIRST, OH MY GOD!”

When they finally landed—back on Kaveh’s rooftop, like usual—Kaveh scrambled upright, clutching both phones with shaking hands.

He turned to the vigilante. Glared. “Do you memorize the address of everyone you save, or…?”

“Only the ones who always get in trouble.”

“Oh, so you have a list of regulars?”

Spider-Man shrugged. Mysterious. Annoying.

“Whatever,” Kaveh muttered. “I’ll stay out of trouble. You’ll see.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to,” Spider-Man repeated. “I’ll still save you.”

Kaveh blinked.

“It’s for the greater good,” Spider-Man added. “I save everyone—regardless if they pushed me away after I kissed them.”

“You—” Kaveh’s face lit up red, mouth opening, ready to yell.

But Spider-Man was already turning. Already smug—like nothing changed. “See you next time.”

And just as the vigilante climbed onto the ledge—

“Wait!”

Spider-Man looked back at him. Questioning.

Kaveh exhaled heavily. “So we’re… okay?”

A head tilt. Then—

“We’re okay, Kaveh.”

Then he swung off the edge with infuriating ease.

And Kaveh stood there.

Silent. Maybe relieved.

And then it hit him. Too late.

Spider-Man was wearing his material. Kaveh’s material.

And as he descended the stairwell, he didn’t realize that for a long moment, he was smiling.

Alhaitham came back later. Kaveh scolded him for dropping his phone.

Alhaitham just took it back and said: “I saw Spider-Man save you. He had a new suit on.”

“Oh. That? Yeah. Pft. So ugly.”

Kaveh didn’t understand why Alhaitham had choked at that.

Zandik Corporation, Central Materials Research Division – Lab 11

The lights cast a white, clinical glow across the room, humming softly above the latest marvel: a towering, full-sized door made entirely of structured sand particles—engineered to mimic solid mass, yet flow like fluid when destabilized.

"Alright," Kaveh called, arms crossed as he observed. "Initiate seismic pulse."

A low tremor thrummed through the floor. The sand door wobbled, like ripples in water, then—within seconds—snapped back into its original shape.

“Still intact.” One of the scientists jotted the reaction on a tablet. "That’s four impacts: heat, kinetic force, sonic, now seismic."

“It’s holding!” Kaveh clapped. “Perfect phase-memory integrity. We’re closer to revolutionizing external reinforcements! Imagine cladding skyscrapers in this—absorbing earthquakes, blasts, impact—then self-correcting instantly.”

“It’s like intelligent sand,” someone said.

HISS.

The two main doors opened.

Everyone’s head turned.

A long pause. Then footsteps.

Too loud. Too jarring.

A man walked in—half his face obscured by a glinting, metallic mask shaped like a bird's skull. His hair was a mess of pale blue curls. His suit, bone-white and patterned with strange circuitry, shimmered faintly under the lab lights.

The CEO himself.

The room fell silent. People straightened. Kaveh instinctively moved a hand over his tablet.

Zandik didn't say a word. Just stalked forward, slow, languid, until he stood in front of the sand door.

He examined it.

Then, without warning, he drew something from his side—crystalline and thrumming with electric current, something made of frozen lightning—

Wait.

WAS THAT FREAKING WEAPON??

And with no warning—

Zandik stabbed the door.

Gasps echoed. The blade sank into the sand, crackling. A few particles hissed, dislocated—then suddenly, as if rejecting the foreign object, the door spat the blade back out.

The sand swirled. Resettled. Returned to its perfect, untouched form.

Zandik laughed. A crisp, clinical sound.

“Astonishing,” he said, picking up the weapon. “Truly. Imagine this as armor.”

Silence.

What the hell was their CEO talking about?

“…it wouldn’t quite work.”

Zandik turned toward him, sharp. “Hm?”

Kaveh’s smile faltered. “This material was developed as impact-absorbent coating. It disperses external trauma, but only superficially. The interior substrate—if it covers a wall, for example—can still suffer some damage. As armor, the wearer would still feel the force. Possibly even break beneath it.”

Zandik listened. Stepped closer.

“Hm. Unless you made it thick enough to offset the internal shock.”

“That would mean encasing someone in a meter of sand,” Kaveh replied dryly. “At which point, it’s no longer armor. It’s entombment.”

Zandik chuckled, amused. He studied Kaveh. Red eyes under the mask. Creepy.

“You're the lead researcher.”

“Yes.”

“Hypothetically,” he continued, voice calm, “if this material were shaped around a human body, and their arm was sliced off, the sand would reform around the shape of the arm. But the actual arm would still be gone. Correct?”

“…Yes.”

“And hypothetically—how could the sand stop the arm loss from happening?”

Kaveh’s throat tightened. “You’d need bioregeneration. Or biomineralization. Cellular-level integration.”

Zandik didn’t blink.

“Which you... should probably ask the biotech team. We only deal with inanimate matter in this lab.”

“Ah.” Zandik's smile never touched his eyes. “Then perhaps a collaborative effort is due? Materials and Biotech. A merger of minds.”

Kaveh’s fingers curled against his tablet. “Perhaps.”

Zandik turned, strolling away without glancing at anything else.

“Good work, everyone,” he said over his shoulder, tone far too casual for the tension he left behind. “I’ll be in contact.”

The doors hissed closed behind him.

The lab was silent.

Then one of the interns whispered, “...that was the closest I’ve felt to death.”

Kaveh didn’t answer.

He was too busy wondering why someone like Zandik wanted armor that could remember how a body looked—even after it had been broken.

Sumeru University – Physics Building Cafeteria

Kaveh didn’t expect much.

It wasn’t like this was a date—no. Just lunch. A casual drop-in with food. Alhaitham had mentioned that one of his afternoon lectures was canceled, so Kaveh, being a thoughtful roommate, had shown up with takeout from their usual spot and two perfectly portioned iced drinks.

Alhaitham had looked—well. Maybe a little pleased. If Kaveh would say so himself.

He’d left his lab without comment and didn’t complain when Kaveh started babbling about Zandik’s latest appearance.

They were halfway through their sandwiches. The sun was out. It was—nice.

Until—

“Oh! Hi Kaveh!”

A bright, familiar voice.

He blinked up to see Lumine—pretty, quick-footed, and already reaching for Alhaitham’s sleeve.

“I need him for a second. Just a quick update—is that okay?”

She barely waited for a response. Alhaitham stood automatically, brows drawing together, and followed her a few steps off the path.

Kaveh stayed seated.

Watching.

They weren’t that far off. But the words were hushed. Lumine was speaking fast, her hands moving as she explained something. Alhaitham nodded once. Then again. He leaned in slightly, listening with that sharp, intent focus Kaveh knew—the one reserved for things that mattered.

And Kaveh?

Kaveh suddenly felt very stupid.

He looked down at their food. At the little napkins he’d folded just so. At the second drink, condensation dripping slowly down the side.

Did Alhaitham ever look at him that way?

Did he ever listen like that?

Kaveh wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember.

His chest ached. Quietly. Annoyingly. A tiny, sharp thing.

When Alhaitham finally walked back over, his expression was pinched.

“Something came up. I have to help run a final calibration in the lab. Thesis-related.”

“Right,” Kaveh said, forcing a smile. “Final year. Always busy.”

Alhaitham paused. “…I’ll be home tonight. I should finish on time.”

“Okay. Just text me if anything. Here.” He nudged Alhaitham’s takeout box forward. “In case you get hungry later.”

Alhaitham’s fingers twitched as he took the bag. Then—he hesitated. Like maybe he didn’t want to leave.

But—

“Alhaitham!” Lumine.

Alhaitham glanced back. Then at Kaveh. “I’ll see you at home?”

Kaveh nodded—too fast. Watched him leave. Then sighed heavily.

He picked up the drinks—now slightly warm—and his own box.

His phone buzzed as he stepped into the streets.

URGENT ALERT:
High-risk threat detected in Aaru District. Evacuation protocol in effect. Avoid area.

Kaveh stared at it for a second.

Well. Aaru District was far. At least he and Alhaitham were nowhere near it this time.

It was 9:21PM.

Alhaitham was late.

Kaveh glanced at the clock, then back at the door. Nothing. No text, no call. Just silence.

“What was I expecting anyway,” he sighed.

He grabbed his cardigan on the way up to the rooftop. Fresh air, he told himself. Not disappointment.

And as he pushed open the rooftop door—he stopped.

Because someone was already there.

A blur of green and black slumped in one of the rooftop chairs, streaked with grime and… slime?

Spider-Man.

“You live around here or something?”

The vigilante froze mid-bandage. Turned slowly toward him. And Kaveh could see it then. While his suit and mask were still on, one arm hung out from under Kaveh’s material, and thus half of his MUSCLED CHEST—

was OUT IN THE OPEN.

They blinked at each other.

“…No,” Spider-Man said finally. “I made a pit stop. Your roof has chairs. And a table.”

“I’m pretty sure there are rooftops with better facilities.” Kaveh walked over anyway, kneeling without asking. “Are you… injured?”

Spider-Man turned his arm slightly away. “Just a scratch. I’m almost done.”

Kaveh rolled his eyes and tugged the bandage roll from Spider-Man’s hand. “That’s so not just a scratch. On your dominant arm too. Here. Hold still.”

The vigilante obeyed.

Quietly.

Kaveh wrapped the bandage around his bicep carefully, fingers brushing warm skin. Up close, Spider-Man looked even worse—grime on the legs, a long tear down one side of the suit, and something dark crusted near his ribs.

“Big fight?” Kaveh asked softly.

“Mm. Aaru District.”

“I saw. The slime guy?”

“Same one,” the robotic voice replied. “Bigger. Angrier. With a vengeance.”

“Everyone okay?”

“The Zubayr Theatre was doing a tour in the area. There were complications. But no casualties.” His shoulders sagged with the words.

Kaveh smiled, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Well, you can rest now.” Then his brain caught up. “Wait. Zubayr Theatre? The one with Nilou?”

Spider-Man made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an annoyed grunt.

And for a moment, Kaveh’s mind went back to the two weeks he didn’t see the vigilante. When a social media post showed up during his scrolling, and he—in a moment of stupidity—had clicked on it.

Because the headlines had been:
“Dancer in Distress Swept Off Her Feet!”
“Spidey’s Got a New Muse?”

Accompanied by a blurry photo of Nilou, halfway collapsed in Spider-Man’s arms, smiling gently.

“Huh.”

And. Okay. Rationally?

Kaveh knew it was probably just paparazzi nonsense. A mid-rescue shot taken wildly out of context.

But—

“So… are the rumors true?”

A click of tongue. An arm being pulled away.

Kaveh laughed, holding the vigilante’s arm still.

“So fast,” he teased. “I guess masked heroes always have a trail of admirers, huh?”

“Something like that,” came the dry reply.

Kaveh blinked, mock-offended. “Wow? I can’t believe I’m so easy to get over.”

Spider-Man probably rolled his eyes judging from his head tilt. “Shouldn’t I be allowed some leeway? You were the one who broke my heart.”

And Kaveh—
—blushed.

Because how could he just say that so CASUALLY??

“Yeah, well,” he huffed, hooking the final bandages. “We’re in the same boat. My roommate’s still an idiot.”

A beat.

“Oh? Why?”

And Kaveh—stupidly, honestly—spilled:

“Well. He’s been—really nice lately. Like, weirdly nice. Letting me lean on him, sharing drinks, texting back within five minutes. But then he’s still busy, always disappearing, always listening to… someone else.”

His voice dropped. He leaned against the bench. Spider-Man waited. Patient.

“It’s stupid, really,” Kaveh laughed humorlessly. “It’s his lab mate. I know they’re just working together but he actually listens to her. Like she matters.”

“…Does he not listen to you?”

“I don’t know,” Kaveh sighed, curling his arms around his knees. “Unrequited love sucks.”

There was a long pause.

Then—

“You said he’s been nice,” Spider-Man said. “It doesn’t sound unrequited.”

“Ugh—what do you know, Spandex.”

“Oh, I know. I was pushed away after kissing mine.”

And—

Kaveh shoved him. Face heating up.

“You said we were okay!”

“We are,” Spider-Man chuckled under the mask. “I’m offering an impartial view. Perhaps you should be more honest with your roommate. Perhaps that girl really is… just a lab mate.”

Kaveh exhaled, long and tired. “I’ll think about it.” Then he looked at the black and green vigilante. NOT at his toned arm still hanging out of his suit. “You’re all bandaged up, you know. You’re free to go.”

Spider-Man didn’t move.

Not for a while.

Then, finally, he stood. “I’ll see you next time?”

Kaveh nodded, giving a wave as he watched him swing away—faster than usual, like the effort hurt.

And when he disappeared out of sight, Kaveh sank further into the bench.

Checked his phone.

Still nothing from Alhaitham.

Kaveh was curled on the couch when the front door creaked open.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t look.

But he heard the shuffle of boots. The muted clunk of a bag being set down.

And then—

“Sorry.”

Kaveh blinked. Turned.

Alhaitham stood in the doorway, messy hair flattened at the sides, dirt along the edge of his jaw, sleeves rolled up and wrinkled, a faint scratch near his temple.

And Kaveh just—stared.

Because Alhaitham was apologizing?

Before he could speak, Alhaitham stepped further in, slow.

“I was in… Aaru District.”

Kaveh sat upright, heart stopping.

“What? Why—didn’t you get the alert?”

“I did,” Alhaitham said, squinting. “But several lab samples were stored in the secondary facility. We thought we could retrieve them before the lockdown. We… got pulled into the evacuation.”

Kaveh stormed towards him, his earlier anger from being ghosted turning into anger from Alhaitham’s stupidity. “You’re so stupid. What if something happened?!”

“It didn’t.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Only my arm,” Alhaitham said, raising it slightly. “The medics checked it.”

Kaveh circled him, inspecting anyway—eyes trailing everywhere. Then he stood in front of the man, arms crossed. Alhaitham just stood there. As if waiting for something.

“You’re lucky you got out with both arms intact,” Kaveh snapped. “You reek. Go take a shower.”

Alhaitham nodded quietly. But before Kaveh could turn away—

A hand curled around his wrist.

Gentle.

“I’m… sorry,” Alhaitham said again, voice rougher now. “For not messaging you. And for running off earlier.”

Kaveh froze. Turned back to Alhaitham again.

Because Alhaitham never apologized. Ever.

And yet here he was, dirt-smudged, tired, sincere. Apologized twice.

Kaveh’s frown cracked.

He sighed, defeated.

“Come on,” he muttered, tugging on Alhaitham’s arm. “You probably can’t get your bandages wet, right? I’ll help you out.”

Alhaitham blinked.

“You don’t have to—”

“Shut up.” Kaveh dragged him to the bathroom. “Let me be nice before I change my mind.”

And Alhaitham didn’t resist. Just followed.

And in the bathroom—

“Wait. When did you get so… muscly? You don’t even go to the gym. You sit. And read. And argue with people on academic forums.”

“I carry you when you pass out on wine.”

“Okay, rude. That happens like rarely.”

“I have stats that say otherwise.”

“Ugh.”

Kaveh continued lathering his hair, cheeks warm and suddenly far too aware of the curve of Alhaitham’s shoulders and the way water beaded along his back.

“Lie your head back more.”

Alhaitham obeyed.

“I didn’t think you’d be this calm.”

“You’re just washing my hair.”

“I could drown you.”

“I wouldn’t stop you.”

What did that even mean? Focus, Kaveh!

“You’re lucky I like you clean,” Kaveh muttered.

Alhaitham tilted his head, water streaming down his neck.

“You like me?”

Kaveh’s hands stilled.

And Alhaitham, damn him—sounded almost smug.

“You know what I mean.”

“Mm,” Alhaitham hummed.

“You’re impossible.”

Alhaitham smiled, eyes closed.

And Kaveh’s heart did that thing again. What’s new.

Chapter Text

Zandik Corporation, Underground Private Labs – Room 02

The man in the glass chamber was screaming.

Zandik didn’t flinch. He watched. Observed. Let the sounds echo off sterile white walls, let the tremor of agony rattle through the reinforced observation glass. The arm had grown back. That much was true.

But it wasn’t right.

The muscle was wrong—tensed like wire. The hand twitched with barely two fingers, undeveloped nub forming beneath the wrist. The nails were translucent. The skin, veined and grey-blue, pulsed like it hadn’t decided what species to become.

Then came the seizure. The collapse.

“Subject 23,” one of his researchers called out flatly. “Failure.”

Zandik sighed. “Not surprising. Clean up the remains. I want the next subject tomorrow.”

There were nods. Silence. A muted shuffle of gloves and panic.

He walked out of the lab. The sliding doors hissed behind him, sealing the horrors away. His footsteps echoed through the metal corridor, past shuttered wings and biospecimen tanks. Above his head, soft lights pulsed green.

Not even close, he thought. Not yet.

Zandik Corporation, 28^th Floor – Chairman’s Office

The problem wasn’t the biology. Zandik could regenerate tissue. He’d cracked that a dozen trials ago.

No—the issue was control. Memory. A body that could remember what it was supposed to be, and return to it.

He needed a mold.

A frame.

A material with perfect form recall. That could withstand trauma, reshape itself, and anchor the meat inside it until the cells stopped fighting back.

Zandik picked up a file. Looked at the information inside.

That charming little blond from the Material Sciences division. The one with the sharp tongue and similar ruby eyes.

Working on reformative memory sand.

Not regenerative. Not organic. But adaptable.

Still. Zandik needed the other pair. The organic material. A catalyst.

And he knew just where to find it.

Zandik thrived in the surveillance of his technology.

He had studied the footage. Read the reports. Every fragment from the Aaru District incident.

And he noticed something fascinating: Spider-Man gets injured... but doesn’t stay injured.

He fought through fire. Fell from four stories and got back up. Tore muscle. Bled.

There was no limb regeneration. Not quite. But—

Rapid tissue repair. High tolerance to concussive damage. No neural failure under blunt trauma.

Zandik smiled. “Arachnids can lose a leg and regrow it. So what else can you do, little spider?”

He’d sent the prototype octopus to the Akademiya a few months back. A scouting probe. Subtle. Watching.

And Spider-Man had come.

But too late.

If he were a high school student or staff member, he would’ve arrived faster.

Which left one obvious possibility: Sumeru University.

And Zandik knew the perfect day.
When the schedule was fixed.
When every family, every face, every camera would be pointed in one direction.

Sumeru University – Graduation Day

Spring in Sumeru smelled like blooming citrus and freshly-printed diplomas.

The air was too warm for a graduation robe, but Alhaitham endured. It was, after all, the last time he’d ever have to sit through a four-hour ceremony dedicated to pomp, ego, and inevitable tears. The chancellor had droned on. The student speaker had delivered a heartfelt speech that Alhaitham tuned out halfway through.

It was over now, thankfully. His degree was heavy in his hand. The gold trim on his sash caught the sun.

He hadn’t looked for anyone in the crowd. There was no family for him to expect.

And yet—

“Haitham! Oh my god, smile—no, not like that, you look constipated—hey, Tighnari! Come look at his face!”

“Kaveh,” he muttered under his breath when he was immediately ambushed.

Kaveh bounded outside the hall like an overexcited golden retriever, arms full of wildflowers and his phone already in camera mode.

Click. Flash. More laughing.

Alhaitham turned his head with a sigh. Even other families were looking at them. “Why are you making more of a scene than the parents?”

“You can’t blame me,” Kaveh said proudly, all puffed chest and shiny eyes. “You practically grew up under my roof.”

“You live under mine, actually.”

Cyno gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Congratulations, baby of the group.”

Alhaitham deadpanned. “I’m seven months younger than Tighnari.”

“Exactly,” Tighnari snorted.

Later, Cyno and Tighnari wandered off, searching for snacks and drinks by the booths.

Leaving the graduate with the camera menace. And Kaveh finally lowered the lens and looked at him properly. For a moment, there was just quiet.

“You know,” Kaveh said, voice a little softer, “your grandma would’ve been proud.”

Alhaitham glanced down. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he nodded. “I know.”

There was another pause, weightless and warm.

Then Kaveh reached up and pinched his cheek.

“I can’t believe it! You’re going to get a job after this?? You’re not the little Akademiya boy anymore!” he sniffled dramatically. “Look at you, all tall and muscly and emotionally repressed. All grown up—”

Alhaitham rolled his eyes. “Stop.”

“Never.”

And maybe he would’ve said more. Maybe they would’ve kept orbiting in that gentle hush of post-graduation haze, half-laughter, half-lingering emotion—

But then—

“Oh, hey guys!”

Lumine. Bright smile, soft step. Perfectly in ease.

And Alhaitham felt the almost imperceptible shift in Kaveh beside him—shoulders drawing back, spine straightening. Just a flicker, but enough for Alhaitham to recall Kaveh’s rooftop vulnerability to Spider-Man.

“Kaveh, long time no see!” she greeted, coming closer.

Kaveh moved like he meant to step away politely.

So Alhaitham didn’t let him. He reached out, fingers curling around Kaveh’s wrist, anchoring him in place. Firm, but easy, a silent reassurance.

Lumine blinked at that. Met Alhaitham’s eyes. Teasing.

He did not speak. But he did glare. A mental message saying ‘go away.’

It was not subtle.

But she kept walking closer. So Alhaitham lifted one hand. Shoved her back.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, surprised.

Kaveh shot him a look. “Alhaitham!”

“Let’s go,” he said, guiding them both away from the potential for Kaveh to overthink and withdraw.

“What—why did you do that? That was rude! She was just—”

“I don’t want to talk to other people. I’d rather be with you.”

Simple. Honest. That should make it clear.

Kaveh blinked, his expression softening. Then he laughed. Golden and disbelieving and too precious for the cruel thoughts in his head.

“Okay then,” he said, still smiling.

And he stayed. Right next to Alhaitham.

But like every other day in his life, Alhaitham never had it easy.

BOOM.

Smoke. Screams. Black, crawling automata crawling up the decor. Drones overhead.

The explosion was nothing but a distraction.

Alhaitham realized it immediately—ripping his hand from Kaveh’s grip as smoke poured into the plaza, screams splitting the air. He hesitated—just for a second—as Kaveh shouted, arm still outstretched:

“Alhaitham!”

But too many people. Too much chaos. If Alhaitham didn’t move now, more would follow.

Kaveh was swept into the evacuating crowd. Safe.

Alhaitham vanished into the fray.

He ducked past overturned booths, scorched pavement, the broken echo of alarms—stripping off his outer clothes, suit sticking to him with a whirr beneath. The mask sealed over his face just as he burst through the back exit and—

—stopped.

Midair.

A man hovered just above the plaza on a sleek, mechanical contraption. The flight tech looked custom-built, state-of-the-art. His body was wrapped in a segmented, black-and-white suit. But what drew Alhaitham’s eye wasn’t the armor or the flying weapons bristling from the man’s back.

It was the mask.

A bird’s beak. Plague doctor style. No eyes. No mouth. Just a curved, unbroken front, like a ghost from an ancient hospital.

And even from this distance, Alhaitham felt it.

Danger.

His senses screamed. Every hair on his body raised.

The man hadn’t even looked at the people still running in the street. As if waiting for something else.

And the moment Alhaitham appeared, Spider-Man silhouetted against the shattered skyline—

The masked man turned his head.

Right at him.

And immediately, a swarm of needle-laced drones burst from the man’s back, slicing through the smoke. Alhaitham dove, flipping over a half-destroyed vendor cart, webs firing mid-roll to yank two incoming projectiles from the air.

They exploded.

He shot upward with a grunt, flipping onto a roof with a half-collapsed awning.

Below, the chaos raged.

Then—Lumine. In her usual suit, sheer mask on the bottom half of her face. Charging into the crowd, force-field tech shimmering faintly around her. Paimon trailed behind, destroying every needle drone that came near.

“Spider-Man!” she shouted, spotting him. “We need to—”

He landed beside her in a blink, webbing another dart from behind.

“Get the people out of here. He’s not here for them.”

Lumine frowned. “Then who—?”

“Me.”

He didn’t wait for her reply.

Alhaitham turned and launched himself toward the masked villain, webs snapping out like a net. They never reached. Because every time Alhaitham came near, the man flicked his hand, and the small radius around his body would be encased in—

Black sand. Rippling out like a shield.

The Plague Doctor Villain tilted his head.

“So fast.” His voice deep, metallic, warped beyond recognition. “Do you know how fascinating you are, Spider-Man? The reports don’t do you justice.”

Alhaitham landed behind him. Fast.

Punched.

The fist should have connected.

But—

The damn sand.

Dark. Sharp. Reached out and absorbed the blow. The grains shimmered under Alhaitham’s forearm and fell away.

And from behind the dissolving sand, the Doctor caught his fist.

“Truly a marvel,” the Doctor purred. “Do you regenerate? Do you adapt? What makes you heal, spider?”

Alhaitham yanked back hard, flipping into a backwards somersault and landing light on his feet.

“What do you want?”

The villain’s mask only tilted. And truthfully said: “I want to dissect you.”

One of the drones whirled past—grazing his ribs. Alhaitham hissed through his teeth. Felt the sting. But it didn’t break the suit.

A beat of silence.

“Ah. That suit of yours…” The Doctor hummed low, raising his hand so the black sand encased him again. “Those molecules… remarkably similar. Architecture made wearable. But only skin-deep.”

His head snapped up. Almost excitedly. “Tell me, Spider-Man—was that your own design?”

Alhaitham didn’t answer. Just flung a car off the street at the bird man.

The villain had to evade this time.

Meaning that the sand—whatever it was—couldn’t take too high levels of impact.

“I’ve been asked for experiments before,” Alhaitham said, voice low, posture shifting, “and the answer is always the same. No.”

Then he moved.

Faster.

Webs shot in a criss-cross, pinning The Doctor midair for a split second, out of the sand’s reach—just enough for Alhaitham to slam into him feet-first.

The air cracked as they collided, and the force knocked both into the side of a building. Alhaitham followed, fists flying, dodging needle-drones with brutal precision.

No quips. No banter.

Just speed.

But—the Doctor laughed the whole time.

Manically. Dodging. Studying. Not fighting back.

Until the black sand swirled again—reaching them and blinding Alhaitham.

Just enough to lift the Doctor out of Alhaitham’s reach.

He hovered midair, injured, but the mask was perfectly still. Then, mockingly:

“Until next time, Spider-Man.”

A pulse of smoke exploded around him—and then he was gone.

But Alhaitham knew that voice. He’d heard it many times before.

Not in sound.

In intent.

This man—the Doctor—wasn't done.

Alhaitham ducked back into the blown-out side corridor of the university building, lungs burning behind the mask. Sirens wailed in the distance. He only needed five seconds, ten max, to switch into the graduation robes again and slip back into place before—

Footsteps.

A blur of blond hair.

Alhaitham froze.

Kaveh blinked in shock at the masked figure. “Spider-Man?”

Alhaitham cursed inwardly, grateful he wasn’t out of the suit yet despite the graduation robes slung over his shoulder like a flag of guilt. He tossed them behind a pillar. Kaveh’s eyes flicked, confused—but more frantic.

“What are you doing in here?” Alhaitham asked. “It’s dangerous.”

“I’m looking for my roommate!” Kaveh said, breathless. Dust in his hair. “The area was evacuated, but he’s not answering his phone—he was just with me, I swear—”

Alhaitham cut in, voice calm. “He’s fine. I saw him during the fight outside.”

“What? How are you so sure?”

Alhaitham sighed. “Because I have better vision, Kaveh. That’s how.”

He didn’t wait for more questions. His webs snapped out, catching Kaveh around the waist. “Come on.”

“Wait—”

But they were already airborne. The wind tore at them as Alhaitham vaulted through a blown-out window and into the fading smoke outside.

Kaveh clung to him instinctively. “Why do you always do that? I can get home by myself, you know!”

“You pose less of a public danger when at your apartment. I’m speeding up the process.”

“Okay, rude. At least I don’t throw cars around—don’t think I didn’t see that just now!”

Then—

“Wait, wait—the suit! It’s torn! Did you get hurt?!”

Alhaitham glanced down mid-swing. A shallow graze along his forearm. No blood, just raw skin and a rip in the outer weave.

“I’ll live.”

“Don’t you have, like… a ‘man in the chair’ or something?” Kaveh called over the wind. “An assistant? Some guy in your secret base who tells you if you’re bleeding out?”

“What?”

“You know, like—tech guy. Hero base. Batcave. Mission control.”

“Do I look like Bruce Wayne?”

“I don’t know! Are you?”

“No.” His voice was flat. “I deal with everything myself.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Just the whistle of air, the sound of Kaveh’s breathing, the way his fingers tightened every time Alhaitham shifted weight or angled upward. And if Alhaitham slowed down slightly just so they could take longer—who would notice?

Then Kaveh spoke again, quieter this time.

“So the injuries you get—like that gash from last time—do you go to the hospital for those?”

“No. I take care of them.”

“...Right.” Another beat of quiet.

They landed gently on their shared rooftop.

Kaveh stepped back, brushing soot from his jacket. He looked up at Spider-Man, then away again, voice softer now:

“Hey, if you ever need like… bandages. Or clean-up materials. Help in general—I have basic first response training. I’m not saying you have to, but… if you don’t want to half-ass it alone or whatever, you can drop by the rooftop.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. But Alhaitham saw the telltales—how his voice got lower as he muttered, like he was embarrassed. Endearing.

Alhaitham tilted his head. Cool. Measured. Always more upfront as Spider-Man. “Are you just trying to get me on your rooftop more often?”

Kaveh spun to him, eyes flaring. “No! I’m being nice! Ugh. But if you’re going to be ungrateful, then fine—go do a bad job and bleed alone or whatever. See if I care!”

He stomped toward the stairwell.

Alhaitham watched him go, lips twitching under the mask.

Then he called, just before swinging away, “I’ll make sure to get injured next time.”

“Don’t you dare!” came Kaveh’s distant shout.

Alhaitham vanished into the skyline—still bruised, still thinking, but lighter somehow.

He swung for his usual rendezvous point, knowing his next conversation wouldn't be nearly as uncomplicated.

Unknown Location – House of Daena District

The teapot smelled faintly of sage incense and old paper this time as Alhaitham blipped in.

Lumine sat by her work desk, uniform still covered in soot and dirt. She barely looked up as he entered.

“So,” she said, deadpan. “Just another weird scientist out for your blood?”

“It’s possible,” Alhaitham muttered, pulling down his mask. “He didn’t fight to injure. Perhaps he was intending for a capture.”

Lumine groaned. “Why did he have to do it on graduation day. I hadn’t even gotten a picture with the others.”

“You mean the orange-haired martial arts student?”

“His name is Ajax,” she huffed, rolling her eyes slightly.

Alhaitham ignored that. Sank on a chair. Recalled the Doctor.

“This villain said something strange,” he said. “He said something about my suit. How it was similar to his sand particles.”

“Hm? How would he know? Did he touch the suit?”

“Briefly.”

Lumine furrowed her brows. “What about his sand—what do you remember from it?”

“There wasn’t a lot,” Alhaitham said slowly. “Not enough to flood a room. But just enough to cover him—maybe half a meter in radius. And it…” He paused. “It moved oddly. Like it had… a conscience of its own. It reformed. Rebounded. Recalled attacks and adjusted.”

Lumine nodded, listening intently.

“I couldn’t conclude if it was a power or technology,” Alhaitham added.

Lumine narrowed her eyes. Leaned back, tapping her chin. “I can’t seem to see the connection yet. Maybe the molecules in your suit are a nanoscaled version of it? It doesn’t reform like his sand, but it does absorb impact and distribute it almost the same.”

“I was thinking that too,” Alhaitham sighed. “The suit doesn’t have structural memory like the sand. But the man asked if I created it. Like he knew the material.”

Lumine blinked. Sat up straighter. “Well. You know who to ask then, right?”

Alhaitham stilled.

The air hung heavy.

He didn’t answer.

He closed his eyes for a brief second. “I’ll think about it.”

“Better do it fast,” Lumine shrugged. “Next time that guy shows up, he might bring a scalpel.”

That Night – Alhaitham’s Room

Lumine's words echoed in Alhaitham's mind later in his room.

She was right. They needed answers.

Asking Kaveh as Alhaitham would be too suspicious. And approaching as Spider-Man would drag Kaveh further into a world of danger. Kaveh, in his bright-eyed idealism, would ask questions. And unlike most people, Kaveh asked the right ones.

So Alhaitham didn’t ask.
He broke in.

It wasn’t difficult. They shared a router. The secure home wi-fi—two users on record: Kaveh. Alhaitham.

He felt slightly bad. Kaveh had worked on that network because it was private. And here Alhaitham was—rerouting his way into Kaveh’s laptop through a subnetwork ping exploit he’d written himself.

But Alhaitham had to do it like this. Quietly. Indirectly.

The screen flickered awake. Folders loaded.

/PROJECT_SAND_MAYBE
/STRUCTURAL_MEMORY_SIM
/ZANDIK_CORP_INTERNAL/DEPRECATED_COMPONENTS

He hesitated.

Then opened them all.

Blueprints. Memos. Time-stamped test data.
And videos.

Alhaitham clicked one.

White sand, in a sealed chamber. Suspended in translucent fluid, then injected into a small model of a support column. A mechanical arm slammed into it. Cracks formed.

And then the sand moved.

Swirled like thought. Reformed the structure from the inside out. Piece by piece. As if nothing had happened.

Self-healing. Reactive.
Structural memory.

It moved just like—
Like the black sand.
Like the Doctor’s.

Then—

“That’s impact two, kinetic force! I think it’s going well, guys—perfect phase-memory!”

Kaveh’s voice, on the recording. Bright. Cheery.

Alhaitham stared at the screen.

Kaveh made this. Of course he did. He was a genius. One of the youngest research leads in the division. Brilliant, reckless, relentlessly idealistic.

He clicked on another video, one dated earlier. And there was Kaveh, grinning into the camera, gesturing wildly at a dissolving table mid-repair.

“—imagine this in rapid-response shelters! Natural disasters, warzones—if it can rebuild itself from the inside, we wouldn’t even need to send field agents!”

Alhaitham’s gaze didn’t move from the screen.

It wasn’t exactly the same. The Doctor’s sand had been black. More fluid. Less clean. But the behavior—the logic—

A chill traced Alhaitham’s spine. Kaveh had created something so… potent.

The Doctor had known the material. Had touched the suit.

It meant that likely, the Doctor was someone in Zandik Corporation.

And someone with direct access to Kaveh.

Zandik Corporation, 28^th Floor – Chairman’s Office

Zandik stared at the screen, replaying the footage frame by frame. The clip caught the entirety of the battle—Spider-Man flipping, dodging, his suit absorbing the brunt of a sand whip and not even creasing.

His sand should’ve shredded it.

But it hadn’t.

The suit flexed. Adapted.

Just like his sand.

Well. Borrowed sand.

Zandik narrowed his eyes. He pulled open a folder. Top corner: KAVEH.

“Oh, dear,” Zandik murmured, reaching for his coat. “Have you been holding out?”

Zandik Corporation, Central Materials Research Division – Lab 11

He didn’t knock. He never did. The sliding door to the lab hissed open loudly.

The four scientists inside looked up immediately.

The one Zandik was looking for glanced up from his drafting tablet. “Oh. Did we have a scheduled—”

Thump.

A plastic-wrapped bread roll hit the blond square on the forehead.

Bounced off.

Rolled dramatically onto the floor.

Kaveh blinked. The whole room blinked.

“Um…”

“Huh,” Zandik said thoughtfully, watching the roll's slow journey across the linoleum. Spider-Man would have caught that.

“Did you… just throw a pastry at me?” Kaveh asked, voice confused, rubbing his forehead.

The bread’s packaging was aerodynamic. A good test of subtle movement

“Take it as a gift.” Zandik smiled, all teeth. “For being such a good scientist.”

Kaveh stared. Incredulous. Like Zandik had grown a second head.

“Are we being pranked?” an intern whispered from somewhere in the room.

Zandik left.

No micro-deflection, no twitch of enhanced reflexes, no instinctive reaction.

Not Spider-Man.

Disappointing.

Then who? Someone else in Zandik Corporation?

He grinned. “Ah, little Spider. You’re right under my nose. I can feel it.”

Chapter Text

Alhaitham had graduated.

They’d celebrated, of course. Drinks. Toasts. A rare, unbothered smile on Alhaitham’s face that Kaveh had committed to memory like a fool.

It was supposed to be the start of something stable. Calm. Predictable.

So someone tell Kaveh.
Why Alhaitham still. ALWAYS. WENT. MISSING.

At random times. Mid-afternoon. Late at night. Early morning, without coffee.

He didn’t have classes anymore! No job yet. And Kaveh was pretty damn sure he wasn’t out on the streets manually distributing resumes with his very serious face and secret genius aura.

So. What the hell??

Kaveh was furiously sketching at his desk—adjustments to Spider-Man’s last suit concept, muttering to himself about tensile strength and microtears. The last one had barely torn and Kaveh had nearly had a heart attack.

Then—
The door opened.

He squinted at the clock.

WHO COMES BACK AT 7:42PM?

WHEN THEY’RE UNEMPLOYED AND NOT IN SCHOOL?

And then—like puzzle pieces clicking into place in the most horrible way—

Kaveh gasped. He remembered the bruises. The ones on Alhaitham’s hands. On his shoulders. The ones on his jaw last week.

Oh. God.

Was Alhaitham in a gang? It was illogical but—

Was that where he disappeared to? Was that why he always came back with those mysterious scrapes like they didn't matter?

Kaveh stood up. Eyes furious.

He stormed out of his chair, flung open the door, ready to demand answers—

And promptly gasped again.

Because standing right there was Alhaitham.
Eyes open. Holding out two drinks. Like that explained anything.

Kaveh narrowed his eyes.

“...Just because you always give me something after you disappear and act all quiet doesn’t mean I’m letting it go,” he huffed and took the drink anyway. “But thanks.”

Alhaitham nodded, quiet.

Kaveh sipped once. A caramel latte he often got from the corner shop. Hm.

Then— “Are you in a gang?”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.

“A gang,” Kaveh repeated. “Is that why you always come back late with bruises?”

Alhaitham blinked. “I’m not in a gang.”

Kaveh didn’t believe that for a second.

Alhaitham’s eye twitched faintly. Then: “Can I come in?”

Kaveh tilted his head. Suspicious. “…Okay. Just don’t comment on the mess.”

As Alhaitham stepped in, Kaveh very subtly shoved the full set of blueprints for Spider-Man’s fabric behind his desk. Alhaitham gave them a pointed look. Kaveh waved him off.

They sat on the edge of Kaveh’s bed, knees bumping. Kaveh kept slurping his drink, waiting, because Alhaitham’s lips tightened slightly. Like he wanted to say something.

“So,” he started, “how is everything at the Foundation?”

“Just fine. Why? You looking for a job? Oh! Do you need a referral letter?”

“I have enough recommendations from my professors.”

“Tch.” Kaveh rolled his eyes. “Geniuses.”

Alhaitham paused—like he was debating whether to say more.

But then Kaveh noticed something.

Alhaitham’s hands.
His knuckles, specifically.

Scraped. AGAIN.

With a huff, Kaveh rummaged through his bag for the small first aid kit he started keeping on him now. He took Alhaitham’s hand and began dabbing at it with alcohol swabs.

Alhaitham didn’t even wince.

Which was proof enough, in Kaveh’s book, that he was definitely in some kind of gang. That kind of pain tolerance didn’t just come out of nowhere.

Alhaitham just watched silently as Kaveh dabbed on ointment around the raw skin.

And then, quietly, “Do you have any… immediate projects to focus on here?”

“Yeah. We’ve got some infrastructure material stuff in the works. That’s the main one. A few smaller things. Collaborations with the regeneration team, but nothing set yet.” He squinted at Alhaitham. “Why?”

Alhaitham hesitated.

“There’s a graduate program that seems noteworthy. I’m… considering it.”

“A graduate program? Why not go straight into a firm? You’ve got the qualifications for it.”

“I do,” Alhaitham said. “But this program focuses on topics rather niche. Biophysical materials, adaptive synthesis, hybrid environments. Topics I can explore for a year before specializing.”

Kaveh nodded slowly. “Okay. Then, if you’re interested, you should go for it. You’ll probably fly through it anyway, knowing how you are.”

Alhaitham’s eyes flicked away for a moment.

“It’s in Mondstadt.”

Oh.
Kaveh blinked.
Mondstadt was… far.

Alhaitham continued, like he was trying to sound indifferent. “Miss Lisa recommended me to their selection board. It’s called Favonius Industries. Their head alchemist reached out. Full board, decent monthly stipend, and they’re well-funded if you have the right research proposals.”

Kaveh nodded again. More out of instinct than actually acknowledging. His chest felt tight.

“I see.” His voice was too high.

Alhaitham frowned, small, cute. He pulled his knuckles away to scratch at his forehead. Like the conversation wasn’t going the way he wanted it to.

Then, cautiously—

“They have a separate program. Not for graduates. For research.”

“Okay?”

“It’s for a year. I read that the Zandik Foundation offers international secondments. They have a Mondstadt branch. Small. But there,” Alhaitham recited, as if he were reading from a pamphlet. “If you apply… you could also collaborate with Favonius’ materials division.”

Kaveh blinked.

Why was Alhaitham talking about him?

Oh.

OH. Wait.

WAIT.

“…Are you asking me to go with you?”

Blunt. Too blunt.

But it was already out there. Floating between them like a balloon about to pop.

Kaveh’s fingers were holding the edge of an empty alcohol swab wrapper like it was a flotation device and he was drowning.

Alhaitham, infuriatingly, didn’t flinch. Just looked slightly to the left. At the bookshelf. At nothing.

“I’m only advertising. The program is short. And you’re qualified. And if you wanted to apply—”

“That’s not what I asked,” Kaveh cut in, even as his voice pitched higher again. “I asked if you were asking me to go with you.”

A pause. Alhaitham’s lips pinched together.

And then—like it physically hurt to admit—

“Yes.”

Oh.

Kaveh was going to die. He was going to actually perish.

Heart attack. On the spot. Right here on this ratty bed with his stupid half-finished Spider-Man blueprints shoved under the desk and Alhaitham’s stupid scraped-up hands on his lap.

“You—what—why—” Kaveh flailed. “You hate people. You hate traveling. You hate me when I talk too much. Why would you want me to go?”

“I don’t hate you.”

Alhaitham said it too quickly.

Kaveh’s heart flipped.

Alhaitham looked at him fully this time, expression even. “You know that too. You’re one of the only people I can work with. Who understands what I’m trying to say. Even when I don’t finish the sentence.”

That wasn’t fair. Kaveh wasn’t prepared for that.

He tried to scoff, but it came out weird and strangled.

“And the bruises?” he shot back, desperate to derail. “Are you going to keep doing whatever you’re doing in Mondstadt too?”

Alhaitham stayed silent. Kaveh glared. Narrowed his eyes.

“I swear to the gods, if this is a gang relocation—”

“I’m not part of a gang.”

“Then why do you keep getting injured?”

“If you come with, I won’t get injured anymore.”

Kaveh nearly choked. “What?”

Alhaitham’s lips twitched.

There was a beat of silence. Their knees still touched.

Kaveh looked down at his hands. At the first aid kit. At the outline of the blueprints peeking from under the desk.

And then—
He sighed, kicked Alhaitham lightly in the shin.

“You’re so weird,” he muttered. “Could’ve just said ‘I’d miss you’ like a normal person.”

“I didn’t think you needed me to say it.”

Kaveh stared. Then flopped dramatically onto the bed, groaning into his pillow. “Ughhhh you’re the worst,” he wailed. “Stop acting so weird!”

But he was smiling. Maybe too much.

Zandik Corporation, Central Materials Research Division – Lab 11

Kaveh had already talked to his supervisor about it. Short-term, just a secondment. They had a meeting scheduled for next week to finalize it.

And honestly? Things were looking good. Alhaitham had smiled when Kaveh left for work this morning. Spider-Man’s new fabric was coming together.

The self-restructuring sand was also holding up well. They’d implemented it on one of the Zandik towers near the southern mudslide areas, and even after a barrage of rain, there were no signs of erosion. Not even hairline fractures in the support lattice.

The prototype was helping.

Suddenly—
The building shuddered.

A low, grinding groan of steel warped through the floor. The lights flickered. Something screeched—metal, like knives dragged across glass.

By the time Kaveh left his lab, people were already screaming. He grabbed two interns in safety vests, barking at them to move, because what the hell was that sound? Was something collapsing?

When he reached the Ground floor, he saw—
Madness.

A monster.

Pure metal.

Blades for arms. Limbs that bent and rotated wrong, slick plating over a glinting frame. It moved like it was gliding, but every step split concrete. A creature made of razors—something between Edward Scissorhands and that unstoppable robot from the Incredibles, but worse.

Weird.

It was rare for a villain to hit exactly the Zandik building. Unless—did it spawn here?

Then, swinging into view—Spider-Man.

There was a blur of panic and motion as people evacuated the Zandik premises and the adjacent transit hub. But even outside, cordoned off behind sleek barricades, Kaveh couldn’t look away.

Because something was off.

This wasn’t a flashy fight. The villain didn’t fight to win. He fought to wound. Every strike was too exact. Not broad, not chaotic. Surgical. Blades aimed at joints, tendons, ribs. Trying to maim.

And Spider-Man was dodging, fast and clever and precise as always—but it was taking too long. Longer than the Akademiya fight against that octopus months ago. Was this going to be like Aaru District?

Then—

A pincer. Gleaming. Launched straight at Spider-Man.

He pivoted, webbed a pipe, yanked—a clang of deflection—

But from the pincer’s center, a second blade shot out—a mini-pincer, hidden inside.

And it struck true.

Right at the seam.
The base of Spider-Man’s throat.
Where Kaveh knew the fabric was thinnest.

And then—

Spider-Man was slammed into the air. A metal pike shot from the ground, struck him in the gut, and he crashed into a car. Glass shattered. Metal dented. And he didn’t get back up fast enough.

The villain followed. Knives whirring. Pincers pounding. Blow after blow. No hesitation. Even when Spider-Man was down.

“Shit.”

Where was the Traveler? The other vigilante? Why was nobody helping??

Then—Kaveh’s eyes caught on something:

A cop car. Abandoned. Doors open. Engine running.
And just behind it—
A fire hydrant. Pressure valve gleaming.

An idea sparked. A terrible one. A stupid one.

Kaveh took a deep breath.
Looked around. No one was watching him.

And then he ran.

He really hoped Cyno could talk him out of jail.

The hydrant burst where the cop car rammed into it.

Exploding in a geyser of water that surged down the pavement, spreading into the battlefield. It pooled under the villain’s feet—metal legs, bladed limbs—exactly what Kaveh needed.

A cop ran up beside the car, pounding on the window.

“What the hell are you doing?! Get out of the car!”

But Kaveh just leaned out the window and shouted: “Get everyone away from the water!”

Then he jammed the car into reverse. Because the next thing he was aiming for? The power line pole across the street.

“I swear to God, if I die right here—”

Kaveh slammed the gas.
CRACK.
The bumper hit the pole. Hard.
It just shook.

“Damn it!”

Reverse. Slam again. This time the pole creaked. Leaned.

Kaveh knew Spider-Man had enhanced hearing. He hoped to hell he was listening:

“SPIDER-MAN, YOU BETTER GET OUT OF THOSE METAL PINCERS RIGHT NOW!!”

The pole groaned, fell, and—

The live wires hit the water.

And the purely metal villain? Howled.

Sparks burst from its joints as its limbs seized up. Blades froze mid-spin. The whole body jerked violently, caught in the flood of voltage.

Kaveh was still in the car, watching from behind the windshield, heart in his throat.

Spider-Man surged upward from the mess. Bloody. Mask torn. One sleeve practically shredded.

He moved fast as ever, swinging one arm forward to web the enemy’s legs to the asphalt. Webbed it again. And again.

And maybe desperately—maybe sensing its own end—the villain lashed out one last time.

Straight toward the car. Straight toward Kaveh.

Kaveh braced—

But then arms—strong arms—wrapped around him.

And he was yanked up into the sky. Tossed over a steady shoulder.

Kaveh looked back at the convulsing monster, panting, heart pounding. The pincer fell—

“I think he’s down for real!” Kaveh shouted, shaky.

They landed on a rooftop a minute later, far from the wreckage.

The moment his feet hit solid ground, Kaveh dropped to a crouch, shaking, digging through his bag.

“Okay, okay, so I saw all the gashes he gave you earlier—don’t lie, I saw it. You’re lucky I’m basically a walking Red Cross booth now, you—”

He turned around—

And froze.

He nearly screamed.

Kaveh didn’t actually see who it was.

He turned away, too fast, heart hammering, skin buzzing with leftover adrenaline.

All he saw was—
Grey hair.
A nice jawline.

“Your mask is torn!!”

“…Oh.”

“I—I didn’t mean to look, okay?!” Kaveh rushed. “I didn’t see much, I SWEAR—just—just fix it. Web it or something, I don’t know. I’m going to look down at the ground and only the ground.”

Kaveh dropped to his knees, rifling through gauze, alcohol wipes, tape. “I promise I’m not looking. But I saw a nasty one on your abdomen, at least patch that one before you go—seriously, you’re going to get an infection or something—”

Spider-Man didn’t speak. Just scooted nearby, left-side wound to Kaveh, one hand slung over the torn part of his mask.

Kaveh didn’t peek. He didn’t. Not even when he sat close, not even when their knees met.

“Okay, I’ll patch this side up, alright?” he muttered. Still not looking. He started wiping at the blood on the black fabric.

In the silence that followed, their breathing finally evened out.

And Kaveh—half-laughing, half-shaky—broke it first.

“Can you believe I stole a cop car? I really hope I’m not going to jail. That was insanity. I thought I was going to die.”

No answer.

Kaveh winced as he dabbed on alcohol. Spider-Man flinched.

“Oh—sorry! Did that hurt? Shit. Sorry about the suit. I guess it wasn’t that anti-destructive.”

Still no reply.

Oh. Right.
Voice modulator.
Probably ripped off with the mask.

“God, I forgot you can’t talk right now. Here, let me just do this quick—”

“It’s a good suit.”

Kaveh froze.

Not mechanical.
Human.
Too deep. Like someone trying to fake a lower register.

Kaveh’s hands trembled against the gauze. He didn’t lift his gaze. Didn’t dare.

He swallowed. Managed a small smile. “Yeah? I’ll make you a better one next time. As long as you don't get injured on purpose.”

“Mm,” came the soft response. Then— “You did good.”

Kaveh gave a breathless laugh. “Really? So I can say I saved Spider-Man instead today?”

“Mm.”

Honestly, it was kind of a nice voice. And Spider-Man trying not to speak without the modulator was kind of… cute. A total opposite to his more-smug demeanor.

Kaveh smiled to himself. Carefully taped the gauze down.

“These other slices look kind of bad. You should go to a hospital this time. Tell them you’re…” Kaveh laughed again. “…I don’t know, part of a gang or something.”

Silence again.

Kaveh wiped his hands. Shut his eyes again.

“Okay. So just tell me when you’re going. I’ll open my eyes after that.”

Nothing.

“…Spider-Man?”

“I’m here.”

Kaveh tilted his head. Weird. He sounded—near.

“Oh. Okay. You’re probably tired. It’s fine. Just… stay there until you can swing. No rush.”

A pause.

A breath against Kaveh’s cheek—close, warm, unsteady.

Then, barely a whisper: “Don’t open your eyes.”

He frowned, about to ask, but then—

Lips.

Warm. Sure. Soft.

A gloved hand cupped his jaw—gentle.

Kaveh froze. But he didn’t pull away.

His heartbeat kicked against his ribs. He forgot how to breathe. How to speak. How to open his eyes, even by accident—

There was something metallic. Tangy.
He could taste it—Spider-Man’s lips were bleeding.

And then—slowly, stupidly, purely because of the adrenaline—Kaveh kissed back. Just a little. Just a second.

And Spider-Man breathed in—and leaned in deeper. Like that was all he needed to know. Like he’d been waiting. The kiss bloomed from tentative to certain, trembling at the edges. A press of smoke, warmth, blood.

The hand slid from Kaveh’s jaw to his neck. Still gentle. Still holding back.

The wind on the rooftop, the rush of the city below, the smell of asphalt and air—it all blurred together.

When the lips left his, Kaveh’s eyes stayed shut.

He didn’t speak.

And when he finally opened them—

The rooftop was empty.

Just Kaveh.
And his heartbeat.
Loud in his ears.

Later – Kaveh's Room

Kaveh made his way back home.

Lips still tingling.
Mind absolutely blank.
But also? Internally screaming.

Why did he—
Why did he KISS BACK?

No. It was the adrenaline. It had to be.

Just leftover adrenaline from nearly dying and stealing a cop car and performing amateur first aid on a bleeding vigilante on a rooftop.

Just emotions from Spider-Man sitting there quietly, letting Kaveh patch him up. There was trust. Kaveh responded. It was a trauma bond.

Yes. Totally.

Because Kaveh liked Alhaitham.

Not that… spider.

It didn’t matter—
How many times he saved Kaveh.
Or the rooftop conversations they’d had.
Or how he’d listened. Or nodded.
Or tilted his head like he cared when Kaveh got emotional about Alhaitham, or buildings, or technology—

No.
NOOO.
NO. NO. NO.

Kaveh shook his head violently. He snapped back to reality—crouched in the living room. Hands on his head.

Thank God Alhaitham was still out doing who knows what.

Because what was Kaveh thinking?

And more importantly—WHAT WAS SPIDER-MAN THINKING?!

That Kaveh liked him? That he wanted that?

OH GOD.
HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO CORRECT THAT??

Was there some vigilante HR line he could call?
“Hi, I accidentally kissed your superhero, can we log that as a workplace incident—”

Nope. No. He needed help.

He needed—Tighnari.

The phone rang twice.
Then—

“I did something stupid.”

“Good evening to you too.”

“Spider-Man kissed me.”

A pause. The kind that made Kaveh freeze mid-step.

“…Come again?”

“He kissed me! And I kissed back—no, okay—I didn’t MEAN TO! It just happened! And now I think he thinks I like him and I don’t—except I—NO. Not like that!! Not like—Ugh! I’m going to die. Just bury me. Push me off the building next time.”

Another pause. Tighnari was probably rubbing at his temples.

“…Do you hear yourself.”

“I do! This is exactly how it starts in those terrible drama comics. This is how people end up emotionally compromised and making out in warzones and—OH MY GOD, WHAT IF HE SHOWS UP AGAIN—”

“Kaveh.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think Spider-Man might have a crush on you.”

“I—I know that.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s kissed me before. I rejected him then.”

“…Oh. One moment. I'm typing in a reminder to hit you when I see you—"

"Tighnari!"

"—and so this time you didn’t reject him. Do you like him?”

“NO! I like Alhaitham!”

“Then why were you kissing Spider-Man?”

A beat of silence.

“An… adrenaline-fueled haze of emotion and irrationality?”

“Right,” Tighnari said dryly. “Sounds like the body knew before the brain caught up.”

Kaveh screamed. High-pitched, horrified.

“Okay. Look. Let’s circle back. Do you want to kiss him again?”

Kaveh paused.

Too long.

“Oh no,” Tighnari muttered.

“Oh noooo,” Kaveh echoed.

It was late.

The moon was out. But Kaveh wasn’t looking at it. His mind was still racing. He had paced his room for hours earlier. His downstairs neighbor was probably composing a legal threat.

His lips? Still tingling.

It wouldn’t leave him. And neither would the panic.

Then—click—the front door opened.

Kaveh shot upright on the bed. Heart lurching.

Alhaitham.

His stomach swooped. Nerves, guilt, something unnamed and tight around his throat. Why was he nervous? Kaveh hadn't exactly done anything wrong.

Right?

He swallowed it down and walked out into the hall.

Alhaitham stood at the counter, his back turned, placing a bag of takeout on the surface. Like it was just another normal night. Like everything was normal.

Because it was.

Kaveh sighed. Inhaled. Exhaled. Deep and slow.

This. This was the man Kaveh liked. The one he was going to Mondstadt with. The one who annoyed him to no end, but who always stayed. He smiled a little to himself.

Yeah. Spider-Man was just a weird little thing. A moment of adrenaline.

Even if he also had grey hair—STOP IT.

“I bought some kibbeh from the market. Do you want that now or later?”

“Oooh, now?”

Huh. If Kaveh imagined it, their voices almost sounded the same. Pft. Ridiculous.

And then Alhaitham turned. And the kitchen light caught his face.

And there, on the inner left corner of his lips—barely visible—was a small, healing cut.

Kaveh blinked. Huh.

That was... the exact spot Spider-Man had been injured. He remembered. Had felt the metallic graze against his own mouth.

Alhaitham moved around the kitchen. His actions slightly stiff. Restrained. Like he was in pain. Like he had a nasty bruise somewhere.

Kaveh frowned. His chest constricted—

Because Alhaitham, somehow, was always bruised or in pain.

Grey hair.
Busted lip.
The same jawline.

The habit of vanishing at odd hours.
The unanswered messages during emergencies.
The conveniently missing every time Spider-Man appeared.

Cold dread crept like vines up his spine.

No. No way.

But Kaveh remembered the blood. The way Spider-Man had flinched when Kaveh pressed on his wound earlier. On his left side.

A horrible thought bloomed in his mind.

He stepped closer to the counter. Careful. Calm.

And with a slight, “oops,” knocked a ceramic bowl off the edge.

It fell.

But before it hit the ground, Alhaitham moved—fast. Reflexes inhuman. He bent, caught the bowl one-handed. Smooth. No panic.

But he did flinch. Just a fraction. Not from the bowl, but from the motion. His jaw tensed. His left side stayed rigid. His left abdomen.

Kaveh stared. Then—his eyes fell to Alhaitham’s lips. That busted corner.

The exact one he’d kissed earlier.

His stomach dropped through the floor.

Alhaitham stood back up, raising a brow, as if nothing had happened.

But Kaveh couldn't breathe.

The world swam a little. Everything felt tilted.

That was—

“…Alhaitham,” Kaveh whispered.

Alhaitham tilted his head. “Yes?”

And that gesture—that small, useless gesture—

Exactly how Spider-Man did it.

Kaveh couldn’t speak.

Because he knew. He knew.

Chapter Text

6:29AM – Alhaitham’s Room

Alhaitham awoke to the sound of something—thudding.

A bang.
Then another.
Urgent. Insistent.

Habit had him alert in an instant, trying to place the threat.

But the direction of the noise was: Kaveh’s room.

A zipper. Something clattering to the floor. Shuffling.

He got out of bed, moving instinctively, and opened his door.

And there was—chaos.

Clothes were strewn haphazardly. Drawers hung open. And Kaveh was shoving items into a half-packed suitcase with frantic energy.

Haphazard. Desperate.

“Kaveh?”

The question was a low rumble, laced with confusion.

Kaveh flinched, shoulders tensing. He didn’t stop packing. Didn’t turn to the door.

Alhaitham stepped further into the room. “...What are you doing?”

Silence. The only sound was the rustle of fabric and the occasional frustrated grunt from Kaveh. His hands were shaking. The clothes didn’t even match. One of them was Alhaitham’s.

Alhaitham reached out, hand hovering near Kaveh’s arm—

—And with a sharp, almost violent jerk, Kaveh yanked his arm away.

The unspoken rejection hit Alhaitham like a physical blow. He recoiled slightly, brow furrowing.

What was happening? Why was he—

“I’m going to Fontaine,” Kaveh finally said, voice clipped, eyes fixed on the bag. “Something with my mom.”

Alhaitham’s heart thudded once. That made no sense.

“You didn’t mention anything yesterday,” he said slowly.

Kaveh zipped the suitcase. Still no eye contact. “It came up late.”

That was a lie. It sounded like a lie.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.”

The answer was quick, immediate, final. Too sharp to be kind. It was a physical push. And Alhaitham felt a coldness settle in his ribs.

“You should stay here. I’ll be back.”

“When?” The question was sharper, confusion giving way to irritation at Kaveh’s evasiveness.

“I don’t know.”

He moved to push past Alhaitham, and a surge of something—panic, maybe. A need to understand. A prickle of anger at being shut out—made Alhaitham step into his path.

“Kaveh—wait. What’s going on?”

“I just have to go.”

“What’s wrong with your mother?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my mother, Alhaitham—”

“Then why are you in a rush?”

“Because—!” Kaveh’s voice rose, the first crack in his carefully constructed façade. His chest rose and fell. His hands were clenched.

He finally turned. Finally looked at Alhaitham. And Alhaitham stilled.

Kaveh’s eyes—his eyes weren’t angry. Just lost.

He closed them. Exhaled something that sounded like a sob but wasn’t. Shaky and cold.

He took a step closer, his hands trembling visibly at his sides.

“Do you care, Alhaitham?”

The question hung in the air, unexpected.

“Do you care about me?” Kaveh's jaw trembled, voice too soft. “At all?”

Alhaitham’s mind struggled to process the sudden shift in focus. His mind raced. But there was only one answer. There had always only been one answer.

“Yes.”

A beat.

Kaveh’s nodded, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. One that hurt to see.

“Then don’t follow me.”

And then, before Alhaitham could speak, before he could fully grasp the chasm that seemed to have opened between them—

Kaveh walked out the door.

The silence left in his wake felt heavier than any argument they’d had.

Alhaitham stood alone. The apartment too quiet.

The bag of takeout from the night before still on the counter. A silent testament to a normalcy that had just shattered.

Kaveh’s words were echoing—“Do you care about me?”—as if it were a test he didn’t realize he was taking. And now the results were in. And he’s failed.

Alhaitham didn’t understand.

He replayed the morning's interaction, searching for a clue. The abrupt awakening, the chaos, Kaveh's almost violent flinch at his touch. The unfamiliar sting of it, sharp and unexpected.

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the rooftop.

The torn mask. The kiss. Was it that?

Or—

A more unsettling thought wormed its way in.

Was it Spider-Man? Did Kaveh somehow realize?

No. If Kaveh knew—there would’ve been anger. Accusatory rage. Not loss. Or quiet exits with trembling hands.

Alhaitham ran a hand through his hair, a rare display of agitation.

What if it had nothing to do with Spider-Man at all—and everything to do with Alhaitham?

Was it the unanswered questions? Something he failed to provide?

But Kaveh had just accepted going to Mondstadt. With Alhaitham.

His jaw tightened. Nothing made sense.

Two days crawled by with agonizing slowness.

The text he sent a few hours after Kaveh left was still on his phone, unanswered.

Alhaitham: Are you there yet?

He questioned if this was how Kaveh felt every time he hadn't replied during evacuations.

Then, foolishly, he wondered: Was Kaveh cutting him off?

No. Kaveh wouldn’t leave like that.

A buzz.

Kaveh: yeah

That was it.
No emoji. No snark. No warmth.

Alhaitham stared.
Read it again. And again.

He wanted to reply.

‘Text me when you're on your way back’
‘Is everything alright?’
‘How is your mother?’

But everything he wrote sounded wrong.

Sounded like something Kaveh wouldn’t reply to.

Cyno and Tighnari appeared just as confused about Fontaine.

But Tighnari did send him a shrug, saying that “it'll fix itself.”

Alhaitham didn’t know what exactly there was to fix.

Unknown Location – House of Daena District

The teapot smelled like cinnamon bread today.

Alhaitham sat just off to the side. Paimon floated near a snack tray, munching contentedly, while Lumine flipped through several virtual displays.

“We’ve had five disappearances near the eastern cliffs this week,” she said. “No bodies yet. And I had to fight these two weird creatures last Wednesday—a monkey-thing thing that didn’t know how to use its hands, and a lizard that kept… melting. And then reforming.”

She glanced up. “Any thoughts?”

Alhaitham blinked slowly. “Uncontrolled cellular plasticity.”

“Hm. You fought any weirdos lately?”

“No.”

“Has the Plague Doctor been showing up?”

“No.”

“How’s the Zandik Corp investigation going?”

“I’ve ruled out 72% of the staff.”

“And the plan to get Kaveh away from there?”

No response.

They both looked to him.

Alhaitham only said, “A work in progress,” and fell silent once more.

Lumine exchanged a glance with Paimon. “You’ve been… off. Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Like, even more dead inside than usual,” Paimon hovered closer. “Did something happen back home? The last time you were this moody you—OH MY GOD! Did you kiss Kaveh as Spider-Man again?!”

Alhaitham’s eye twitched. Enough of an answer.

Paimon zipped in circles. “Waitwaitwait—How did it happen this time??”

Alhaitham’s jaw tensed. He hadn’t meant to say it. But it slipped out like an accidental breath. “Kaveh left.”

A beat of silence.

“You kissed him and then he left?! Like, stormed out?”

Alhaitham looked away. Didn’t elaborate.

“Hm. Maybe it was too good,” Lumine offered. “Scared him off.”

Alhaitham sighed. “I’m leaving.”

“No!” Paimon shouted, pointing her skewer at him. “How are you messing this up?! Just tell him who you are already!”

Lumine took her snack tray away. “Paimon, no.”

Alhaitham gave Paimon a flat look, gesturing to Lumine.

The gremlin groaned. “You guys are worse than a soap opera.”

“You should stop watching soap opera,” Alhaitham muttered, already turning to leave.

But as he got ready to blip out, Lumine called out, voice softer: “I’m sure he’ll come back.”

He paused. Didn’t look at her. Just nodded. Then left.

Every time he opened his apartment door to darkness and silence—he found it harder and harder to believe her.

One Week Later - Shared Living Room

No warning. No text. Just the sound of the door unlocking.

Alhaitham glanced up from the couch, book forgotten, heart skipping.

Kaveh walked in like he’d never left. He blinked at Alhaitham, a flicker of something like surprise crossing his face—as if he hadn't expected anyone to be in the living room.

Alhaitham had been there for days.

“Hey,” Kaveh said, quiet.

“You’re back.”

“Mm.”

A pause stretched between them. Long. Uncomfortable.

“Did you… have a good time?” Alhaitham asked, grasping at anything.

“Yeah.”

That same bland, cutting yeah.

Alhaitham frowned. He wanted to bridge the distance, to erase the awkwardness. But he didn’t want to make it worse. Didn’t want to argue. Didn’t want Kaveh to leave again.

“Have you eaten?” he asked instead, the question feeling clumsy.

“No. I’m not really feeling—”

Then Kaveh’s eyes caught on the counter. Two takeout bags. One eaten, crumpled. The other still tied, untouched.

It was almost 4PM. The food was certainly cold by now.

Alhaitham had ordered it around lunch. Just in case.

He’d ordered it every day since Kaveh left. Knowing his tendency for airport chaos and forgotten meals. Just in case.

And with his enhanced hearing, Alhaitham heard it—the softest, shakiest sniff.
And quieter: “I should’ve stayed there another week.”

Something like panic crept on Alhaitham. “You don’t have to eat. I’ll keep it for dinner.”

But Kaveh was already shaking his head. He walked over to the couch, hands still trembling like when he left. He stopped just in front of Alhaitham. Offered a grimace.

“Let’s sit.”

A knot of dread tightened in Alhaitham’s stomach.

Kaveh sighed. And in a whisper, “I’m sorry I left out of nowhere.”

Alhaitham stared. “It was an emergency.”

Kaveh looked at him, almost pitying. “I had some personal things to sort out. That was unfair to you.” Then muttered, with the barest twist of bitterness, “Well, a lot of things aren’t fair.”

Alhaitham waited. Kaveh’s words felt disjointed, the pieces not quite fitting together yet.

Then Kaveh turned to him fully, gaze steady and intense. “Alhaitham. You’d… tell me anything, right?”

A sudden alarm bell went off in Alhaitham’s mind.

Was this about Spider-Man?

Or was this only a general question, born from the ‘personal things’ Kaveh mentioned?

Alhaitham nodded. The safest answer.

Kaveh stared a moment longer. Then nodded.
Like he’d gotten his answer.
Like he’d been waiting for something that didn’t come.

A moment later, he nudged Alhaitham’s knee. A small, almost playful gesture that felt jarringly out of sync with the tension. Like nothing had changed at all.

“You didn’t even text me. You weren’t worried at all, you brat.”

The words hit like a punch.

Alhaitham didn’t know how to explain that he had been worried. Hadn’t known if Kaveh wanted to talk after how he left. But the recollection of Kaveh’s honesty with Spider-Man—urged him forward.

“I was,” Alhaitham said. “I didn’t know if you would reply.”

Kaveh winced. “Okay. I deserve that. I did reply late.”

And maybe it was the silence. Maybe it was the weight of being alone in the apartment for nearly two weeks. But the words tumbled out of Alhaitham: “I was worried you wouldn’t come back.”

And—

Something in Kaveh’s expression cracked. Just slightly. His frown scrunched, like he was holding back more emotions. His shoulders slumped slightly, poking at Alhaitham’s arm.

“Stupid. Of course I’d come back. I said so, didn’t I?”

“Mm.”

“You really should’ve just texted me.”

“Mm.”

Kaveh rubbed at his face. Exasperated.

Then, Alhaitham asked the question that had been gnawing at him. “Is everything okay now?”

Kaveh gave a small, tired nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

But the uncertainty in his voice lingered.

Alhaitham still didn’t know what had happened.

He’d spent two days revisiting that strange conversation on the couch. “You’d tell me anything, right?”

Kaveh went through the motions as usual—ranting, cleaning, working—but it was all dulled. His laughter too soft. His rants trailed off.

And he kept looking at Alhaitham. With something in his gaze. Like he was waiting for Alhaitham to speak. To say something.

But Alhaitham didn’t. Because he didn’t know what he was supposed to admit to yet.

So Alhaitham put his theories to the test.

Saturday Morning – Sumeru City Center

A bank robbery. Not world-ending, not even dramatic.

But Kaveh had been nearby. Just across the street, holding a paper bag with pastries.

Alhaitham swung in, scooped him up with the practiced ease, and vaulted through the city skyline.

“Um, hey,” Kaveh grumbled, brushing wind-tossed strands from his face. “I wasn’t even at the bank? I was like—a whole block over!”

“Knowing you, a simple robbery could turn into a full-scale villain attack.”

“Ugh—it’s only 9:30. It’s too early for this rudeness!”

A smile tugged at Alhaitham’s mouth beneath the mask. They dropped onto their rooftop, Kaveh straightening out his shirt like this was just a part of his Saturday mornings.

Alhaitham observed silently. There were no angry looks or shouts.

So Kaveh’s disappearance had nothing to do with Spider-Man’s identity.

Still, Alhaitham said, “You disappeared for a while. Thought you were having a lucky streak.”

Kaveh blinked. Then laughed. “I wish. I was just in Fontaine. Family stuff.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I had some kind of life-altering revelation.”

Life-altering revelation?

Kaveh leaned on the ledge. “Hey, so what is your criteria? For saving people. I doubt you’re out here rescuing everyone who walks within two blocks of a crime. Are you stalking me?”

“I’m saving the city. You happen to be a constant helpless factor.”

“Ah. Okay. So do you kiss all the helpless factors you save?”

Alhaitham froze. Was that it? The reason Kaveh left?

“It was…” he started carefully, “…a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Hm? Felt like more than just a moment though.”

Alhaitham’s jaw ticked. He remembered it vividly now—how Kaveh’s breath had hitched, how he’d leaned back in, mouth parting just so. Truly, Kaveh had no place to be talking. He had said he liked Alhaitham. And then kissed some masked figure.

Alhaitham tilted his head. “It was supposed to be. Until someone kissed back.”

Kaveh shot Alhaitham a look, cheeks flushed—just a little. Pretty.

“Fine. We’ll call it a momentary lapse of judgment.”

They both nodded in agreement. Eyes still in contact.

Alhaitham should leave now. He knew enough to eliminate his options. But Kaveh—seemed to be talking more to Spider-Man. More than he did to Alhaitham since he came back from Fontaine.

So he stayed. Just a bit more.

A mistake.

Because a few heartbeats later, Kaveh glanced over his shoulder with a faint, unreadable smile.

And lightly: “I don’t think I like my roommate anymore.”

Alhaitham froze.
Every muscle in his body pulled taut.
His heart pounded.

“...Did he do something?”

“Not really,” Kaveh sighed. “Actually. It’s probably what he didn’t do.”

Alhaitham frowned beneath the mask. Mind racing.

What he didn’t do? So Alhaitham was the reason Kaveh left? Was he too late? Was it—

“Remember that life revelation I mentioned earlier?”

Alhaitham nodded. Stiff.

Kaveh smiled. “I think I like someone else now.”

Alhaitham’s brain ground to a halt.
A quiet, hollow kind of panic came.
His grip on the railing tightened.

“I think he likes me back. I don’t know. He’s kissed me. Twice.”

What.
Was it someone in Fontaine?
Was that the reason Kaveh left?

“Caught me off guard both times, too. Very rude. Very unprofessional.”

Who the hell—

“One time on this very ledge. And once when I couldn’t open my eyes at all. So unfair.”

Time stilled.

Alhaitham forgot how to breathe.
He was suffocating under his mask.
There was a ringing in his ears. Too loud.

Spider-Man.

Kaveh had just—laid it bare. Not accusing. Not mocking. To the correct ears this time. But also the wrong ears.

Alhaitham couldn’t say anything back. His thoughts twisted violently inward.

The silence went on.
Too long.

Kaveh’s smile faltered. He let out a small, dry laugh.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same anymore.”

What?

“I just figured you should know.”

Kaveh was already halfway to the stairwell—five more steps and gone—when Alhaitham’s instincts took over.

Thwip.

A line of web caught around Kaveh’s waist and yanked—

Kaveh gasped as he stumbled backward and landed chest-to-chest against him, hands splaying against Alhaitham’s suit, eyes wide—

And Alhaitham, voice low, firm, mind still a whirlwind:
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Kaveh blinked, stunned. “I’m just… making an assumption based on the current facts.”

“Then stop making assumptions. You’re bad at it.”

Kaveh scoffed. Then smiled a slow, disbelieving smile. But he didn’t move away. Not from where they were pressed together. Not from where Alhaitham’s grip tightened on his waist.

The proximity was doing strange things to Alhaitham’s carefully constructed control. Kaveh’s warmth, his words, the hopeful glint in his eyes—

This was why he left? Because Spider-Man had kissed him?

And now Kaveh was watching him like that. Eyes open, mouth curved faintly.

Then quietly, almost challengingly:
“Then what else should I assume?”

There was no surprise this time. No stolen moments. 

Alhaitham settled one hand over Kaveh’s eyes—and kissed him.

Slow and relishing. Just the solid feel of Kaveh against him, the startled sound that turned into a soft sigh against his lips. And Kaveh—just melted in.

Fingers rested against Alhaitham’s shoulders, tightening in the fabric. Alhaitham’s hand slipped away from his face, finding its way to the nape of Kaveh’s neck, fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair.

The morning wind whipped around them, a stark contrast to the sudden heat.

It was dizzying.

They parted—just barely.
Kaveh’s breath ghosted against Alhaitham’s mouth, eyes still closed like he didn’t dare open them.

Alhaitham didn’t know what he was doing.
All he knew was that Kaveh was here.
Speaking to him. Warm. Willing. Not running.

He thumbed the curve of Kaveh’s lower lip, a feather-light touch that sent a visible shiver through Kaveh. His eyes remained squeezed, a bloom of pink at his cheekbones. Utterly captivating.

Then—

Kaveh dragged Alhaitham back in—mouths crashing with a newfound urgency. Not gentle anymore. Gasping and open-mouthed and hungry.

Alhaitham groaned into the kiss, grip tightening, pulling him closer. Pouring his relief, the desperate need to bridge the gap that had opened just weeks ago.

Kaveh kissed like he argued—fierce, relentless, too much—and Alhaitham met him beat for beat, grounding himself in the warmth, the taste of mint, the low sighs Kaveh let out when he bit his lip and wouldn’t let go.

They broke apart again, and Kaveh’s eyes fluttered open. Trained on the fabric at Alhaitham’s chest.

There was just the frantic beat of their hearts echoing in the morning quiet.

Then—a breathless laugh.

“You know, for someone who insists my assumptions are terrible, you sure took your time correcting them.”

Alhaitham’s lips quirked. The tension that had been wound tight in him for days finally beginning to ease. “You’re impatient.”

“You’re infuriating.”                 

“Still kissed me twice.”

“Make it three,” Kaveh murmured—and leaned in again.

That night, Alhaitham occupied the couch with a book and a mind that refused to settle.

His lips were still warm from earlier. He hadn’t even wanted to leave when he got an alert for a villain on Gandha Hill. Until Kaveh scolded him and pushed him off the roof.

Alhaitham hadn’t planned it.
Hadn’t mapped out the probabilities, weighed the risks.
He'd just—kissed Kaveh. Again.

Because the last time Kaveh had unknowingly confessed, and Alhaitham hadn’t responded—Kaveh had moved on.

Well. To another version of Alhaitham. But still.

Alhaitham wasn't about to repeat the same error.

But now that the adrenaline had worn off and Kaveh was back in their shared space, back in the living room with Alhaitham instead of Spider-Man, the weird atmosphere continued.

Kaveh watched him from the kitchen, a contemplative frown on his face. Quiet. Waiting.

“...What,” Alhaitham said.

“Nothing.”

“Given your scrutiny, that seems unlikely.”

“How about you read my mind.”

“I cannot read minds, Kaveh.”

At that, Kaveh snorted. “You can do a lot but you can’t do that, huh?”

Alhaitham blinked. Completely baffled.

For weeks, Kaveh remained strange.

Like a book left open in a language Alhaitham had never learned. He didn’t know where they stood. He didn’t know what Kaveh was waiting for.

But as Spider-Man?

Kaveh lit up. Talked and teased and laughed and kissed him like none of it was confusing. Like Spider-Man was someone easy to love. Instead of Alhaitham.

Alhaitham didn’t know of he hated it or revered it.

Either way, he took what he could.

And one night, Alhaitham found himself outside Kaveh’s window for no reason at all.

No reason but the way Kaveh gaped in disbelief when he opened it. No reason but the kisses. The touches. The way Kaveh let him climb in, all soft scolds and laughter Alhaitham hadn’t received in a while.

“You’re so stalking me at this point.”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Liar. You just defeated the Tinkerer in the desert. And you’re getting sand in my room!”

“Mm. You didn’t stumble into any crime today.”

Kaveh’s eyes were wide with mirth. “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Alhaitham tilted his head. Kaveh tilted his head back. Cute.

The light was off. Dark enough to tug his mask up slightly, to press his lips to Kaveh without worrying. To let Kaveh brush his fingers over Alhaitham’s jaw, pressing in deeper. Like he’d been waiting all day too.

Kaveh whispered against his lips, “My roommate’s in the next room, you know.”

“You said he sleeps early.”

“That was when he was in university!”

“Mm.” Alhaitham had leaned back in anyway. “I have super hearing. It’s okay.”

Kaveh bit at his lower lip. Frustrated. Soft. “Annoying.”

“You like it.”

“I think you like it more, actually,” Kaveh said, poking him.

Alhaitham caught Kaveh’s wrist. Kissed the inside. “Mm. Who wouldn’t?”

Kaveh flushed, gawked, but before he could say anything else, Alhaitham cut him off with his lips.

When Alhaitham slipped back into his own room later, the night wind was cold. His mask was back in place. Sand still stuck in the crevices of his suit. Despite that, he was smiling.

Zandik Corporation, Underground Private Labs – Room 02

The centrifuge spun to a stop with a soft click.

Gloved hands retrieved the test tube. The liquid inside shimmered faintly. Labeled clearly: Subject S.

“Subject 40,” a voice called from across the lab. “Ready for transfusion.”

On an operating table, a man lay unconscious, strapped down. His right leg—severed just below the knee—was buried in a dense encasing of compacted sand, pulsing with arcane energy.

The injection was quick. No fanfare.

The timer started.

At minute ten, the subject stirred. Groaned. Then screamed.

The pain ripped him awake, his back arching violently as he thrashed against his restraints. He wailed, incoherent. His leg convulsed beneath the sand.

Five minutes of chaos passed—then, silence.

The grains of sand dispersed into nothing.

And underneath, what remained was not a stump.

It was a leg.

Flesh. Muscle. Skin. A bit shorter than it should’ve been. Missing two toes. Raw and unsteady—but unmistakably human.

“Stand,” came the order.

Heaving, wide-eyed, the man obeyed. Staggered upright on trembling limbs.

One step. Two. Three—

Then his body seized. Twitched violently—and collapsed in an uncontrollable heap on the floor.

Zandik peered through the glass with clinical detachment.

“Hm. The blood is working. The combination is correct,” he murmured. “Perhaps the issue lies in the subject?”

Oh well.

Zandik had a whole city to test after all.

And when he was done, Spider-Man would see.

Chapter Text

Kaveh was stressing.

Okay. So.

He’d found the earliest flight out of Sumeru that dramatic night—thank God Zandik Corporation paid well because college-Kaveh? Would’ve absolutely sobbed at the price—and where did he go? Fontaine.

Straight back to his mother’s house like a defeated, heartbroken little meow meow.

All because Alhaitham was a lying liar who lied.

Yes, Kaveh had been emotional. Maybe a little irrational. But he needed Fontaine. He needed his mom’s cooking. He needed his childhood bed. He needed to stare at the stucco ceiling and sob and ask the universe why Spider-Haitham kissed him like that, said nice things like that, and then played him like a damn fiddle knowing full well that Kaveh liked him.

Kaveh had confessed.

TO. HIM.

And what had Alhaitham done?

Nothing.

He’d just stood closer like a marble statue with beautiful lips and said sorry more and held Kaveh’s wrist sometimes and bought Kaveh food, which—now that he thought about it—

“That was PITY! He pitied me! That absolute asshole! I’m going to throw out all of his stupid books and his passport so he can’t go to Mondstadt—”

Kaveh had been hurt. He never wanted to go back. That was a lie of course. But he really wanted to believe he had it in him to just walk away from Alhaitham.

He had been mid-ripping up one of his prototype Spider-Man suit sketches when it hit him—

The first kiss.
That rooftop kiss.

It had happened before Kaveh ever told him about liking Alhaitham. Before. And Spider-Man had still come back. Still talked to him. Still babbled about his unrequited crush like some kind of masked dumbass.

And Alhaitham had still asked him to go to Mondstadt with him for a year.

Kaveh had paused. Scowled at the ceiling.

Tried to gaslight himself into staying angry.

He couldn't let four years of deception go just because Alhaitham maybe perhaps possibly secretly liked him back.

Could he?

He kind of could—

NO.

Kaveh had STANDARDS.
Kaveh had DIGNITY.

Kaveh spent three straight days sniffling in bed until his mom had to drag him out for a walk like a stubborn cat in a baby harness.

And Alhaitham? Hadn’t even texted.

Just a flimsy “are you there yet” PFTTTTDFVGHK.

Nothing else. No “are you okay” or “please come home” or even a dumb science meme.

So after the first week, Kaveh made a plan.
A brilliant, petty plan.

He was going to go back to Sumeru. He was going to waltz right into that shared apartment like nothing had happened. Like he knew nothing.

He was going to make Alhaitham sweat.

Kaveh would blink, smile, and pretend he didn’t know a thing about the dumb secret identity.

He was going to play Alhaitham like a fiddle this time.

Except he overestimated himself.

Because somehow, somehow, Spider-Man was now kind of his boyfriend.

And Alhaitham?
Always looked one step away from breaking.

And Kaveh?
Was in so much trouble.

Exhibit one of Kaveh’s troubles:

He was just on a quick break in between tests, coffee in one hand, when he spotted a familiar blur of green and black webbing down from a rooftop into a side alley.

He stared. Walked into the alley.

Spider-Man dangled there upside down, perfectly still, like some dramatic art installation. And when he spoke, it was with that usual dry tone:

“I see why everywhere you go ends up a crime hotspot. You’re alarmingly easy to lure. You shouldn’t walk into an alley when you see someone drop into it.”

“Mm. I’m sure someone would come save me,” Kaveh said breezily, stopping in front of him.

“That someone has a whole city to protect.”

“I’m sure he’d make it in time, regardless.”

Kaveh could practically hear the eye roll behind the mask. “Selfish.”

He laughed back. “What are you even doing here? Don’t tell me it’s a coincidence.”

“…I saw you walk by.”

“Really? So you just happened to be in the alley next to this random coffee shop at exactly my break time?” There was a pause. “Uh-huh. I have a hard time believing you’re not stalking me.”

Spider-Man shrugged. “I never said I wasn’t.”

Kaveh’s stomach did something unhelpful. “Shameless.”

And maybe it was the way Spider-Man stopped speaking for a second. Or the way he angled his head up toward Kaveh, just slightly, enough for Kaveh to see the faintest upward tug of his mask’s edge.

A slow smile spread across Kaveh’s face.

His fingertips reached out, brushing gently against the smooth fabric of Spider-Man’s mask along his jawline. Feeling the curve of the cheekbone, the faintest breath beneath the fabric, until they finally settled over masked lips.

He pressed down just a fraction, a playful, innocent gesture.

“Hmm, is this where your lips are?”

Then he leaned in and placed a quick kiss over the mask. Just a peck. Feather soft.

Spider-Man remained dangling in the silence. Then a low robotic rumble: “I didn’t quite feel that.”

Kaveh’s lips curved. “Didn’t you?”

This time, his hands went to the mask. Careful, deliberate. He peeled it back only halfway, just enough to expose Spider-Man’s mouth—his chin, his jawline.

The grooves Kaveh knew all too well. Saw every day before he left for work.

“Let’s try that again.”

And then, he went in for a proper kiss—slow and lingering.

It was upside-down. Awkward. Giddy. Warm. Too much teeth.

Kaveh hated how much he loved it.

When he finally pulled back, Spider-Man said slowly, “I felt that one.”

Kaveh shook his head in disbelief, but leaned in again anyway.

Until—

“AH—THERE you are!! We’ve been looking all over for—”

A small shape zoomed down from above, hovering midair and gasping in genuine offense.

“OOOOH, WHILE ON THE JOB?? Kaveh?! Oh, no—I don’t know you. It’s just he’s talked so much about—mmph!”

The sprite’s mouth was instantly webbed shut.

She flailed with a loud, indignant mmmMMPH?!

Kaveh blinked. “Did you just—?”

“She talks too much.”

“MmmRRMMM!”

Spider-Man ignored her, dropping from his dangle and standing fully. Mask back on. He turned toward Kaveh with the calmness of someone who definitely wasn’t just caught kissing his secret maybe-boyfriend on a patrol.

“I’ll come by after your shift. To drop you off at home.”

Kaveh arched a brow. “Oh? My personal Uber service now? Do I get to rate you?”

“Only if I get a tip afterwards.”

Before Kaveh could reply, Spider-Man leaned in, planted a quick peck to Kaveh’s cheek right through the fabric—

And zipped up into the air with the sprite still muffled and kicking behind him.

Kaveh stood alone in the alley. Made an undignified noise.

His coffee lukewarm. His heart officially useless.

Because when did Alhaitham become a FLIRT? Absolutely unbelievable.

He huffed on the way back to the Zandik building. Wondering, not for the first time, if Alhaitham even realized what he’d said.

“To drop you off at home.”

Not the roof. Not your place. Just home.

“Stupid secret identity idiot.”

Zandik Corporation, Central Materials Research Division – Lab 11

Kaveh watched as the polymerized sand flowed through the mold again, this time taking the form of a water canteen. The new mixture was more stable—slower to break apart, easier to reinforce.

He logged the test on his tablet, tapping quickly through calibration notes and projected stress limits.

“You cannot name it Gray Matter,” someone stated across the lab.

“Why not? It’s evocative,” their second lead replied. “It stores memory. It’s made of matter. It’s beige-gray.”

“It makes us sound like cartoon villains doing brain experiments.”

“Okay, anyone else with better suggestions?”

Kaveh raised his hand. “I suggested Mnemosand.”

“You suggested three names that sound like indie perfumes.”

“Mnesis. Recallium. Mirage Dust.”

“Tell me you’re not pretentious without telling me you’re not pretentious,” their intern chimed.

“Memory Foam was right there,” someone else piped in. “But, like, trademarked probably.”

“We’re not naming it after mattresses!”

Kaveh was mid-sigh when his tablet pinged.

Meeting: Friday, 19:00 – Zandik UG Labs B4

He frowned. Tapped the invite open.

There were about thirty names on the list. Engineers. Biologists. Theoretical chemists. People he recognized from symposiums and internal dev threads. Even a few of the top-tier personnel he hadn’t seen since last year.

And stamped at the bottom in aggressive red text:

Attendance mandatory. No exceptions.

Kaveh blinked.

7PM. On a Friday night.

“What the hell,” he muttered. “Anyone else get a calendar invite from the chief executive?”

Heads turned. Everyone checked their devices. More head-shaking.

“Nope.”

“Nah.”

“Lucky,” another added. “Probably a raise.”

Their intern—who was chewing on a pencil—said, “Or maybe you’re getting fired?”

Kaveh chucked an eraser at him. “If I am, I’m taking you down with me.”

“Wow. Toxic workplace.”

Kaveh laughed before sighing. “Guess I’m missing dinner this Friday.”

Spider-Man grabbed him. The second he stepped out of Zandik Corporation’s front doors.

“You can’t just—” Kaveh smacked a palm against the vigilante’s chest, cheeks burning. “I work here, you maniac! People know me! You can’t just swoop down like some—some scandal waiting to happen!”

Spider-Man just shrugged, wholly unbothered as he swung.

Back on the rooftop, after a kiss that left Kaveh winded—really winded, like lean-on-the-wall winded—he blinked at him, breath still catching.

“You wanna come in?”

Spider-Man paused. “…Your roommate’s not home?”

Kaveh almost rolled his eyes out of his skull.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not home.”

BECAUSE YOU CAN’T BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE, YOU ABSURD, INFURIATING MAN.

Except.

Alhaitham was home when Kaveh in.

Sitting on the couch, book in hand, legs crossed like he’d been there for hours, lips pressed together like he hadn’t just been kissing Kaveh senseless on the rooftop. Calm. Collected. Annoying.

Alhaitham looked up, casual. “You’re home late.”

Hmph. He was too good at acting. Ridiculous.

“I went for a walk.”

“…you seem winded.”

OH? Alhaitham was going to play now?

“Wouldn’t you like to know why,” Kaveh muttered, trying not to die. Trying not to melt through the floor.

His brain screamed: All you have to do is come clean!! How are you even juggling this? Do you have a clone?? Are you switching suits in an alley like some comic book psycho?!

Then—ping.

Both their phones buzzed at the same time.

Kaveh glanced at his screen. An email from Mondstadt’s Favonius Committee.

Kaveh had purposely not brought up Mondstadt since his return. Why would he? It was the least Alhaitham could sweat over. Kaveh had let the future of that hang in the air, undetermined.

He glanced over, just in time to catch the way Alhaitham hesitated. Just for a second. Like he wanted to ask.

There was a chance Alhaitham would leave it up to Spider-Man to ask—

“...Are you still planning to go?”

Ah. So Alhaitham had asked. Plainly. Quietly. As Alhaitham.

“Hm?”

“To Mondstadt,” Alhaitham said. “You’ve been… under duress. I understand if you changed your mind.”

Kaveh stared at him. Really stared. All that tension, all the spiraling in his chest—just went soft for a second.

Even now. Even like this, with Kaveh pretending not to know, with Alhaitham juggling his whole lie like some kind of acrobat—he was still worried. Still wanted to know where Kaveh stood.

Kaveh sighed. Walked over. Sat beside him.

Then—bonk.

He gently knocked his forehead against Alhaitham’s.

“Of course, I’m still going, stupid. Who else will make sure you’re not involved in a gang anymore?”

Alhaitham’s lips twitched—just the faintest smile as he looked away.

And Kaveh’s heart turned to soup.

Gods, how was he supposed TO DO THIS?

Pretend he wasn’t kissing this man in alleyways and rooftops and during coffee breaks?

Pretend he didn’t know?

Act all annoyed and aloof when they were home, only to go weak in the knees every time he caught a glimpse of the mask?

Kaveh was doomed. He was absolutely, cosmically, monumentally doomed.

Friday – 6:42 PM

Zandik Corporation, Underground Labs – Room B4

The Zandik Corporation building had been strange all day.

Kaveh had noticed the elevators first—two of them were down, supposedly under “maintenance.” Then came the unusual traffic in the west wing, nameless engineers in coats and green badges moving heavy crates and sealed canisters. Someone mentioned the bioregeneration team doing something “sensitive” on the rooftop.

Whatever. Not his department.

He headed to the underground labs early, swiping through the biometric scan and stepping into the conference-lab where the “mandatory” meeting was scheduled.

He waved at several scientists who were already there.

Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting reflections over the clean-glass windows. A series of blueprints and tablets were already spread across the table. He leaned over to inspect them—

And frowned.

His own diagrams stared back at him.

Sand.

But not exactly.

The chemical composition had been altered—bonded to something new. Biotic. Growth factors, cytokines, and other signaling molecules.

A line of handwritten annotation near the bottom right:
SUBJECT S: regenerative agent 1C (stabilized via silica memory lattice)

Weird.

This wasn't one of his trials.

He tapped through the linked documents, eyes scanning faster. Formulations, rate projections, even defense contracts. None of which he'd ever seen before.

He turned to the doorway. “Hey, has someone looked at this?”

Another scientist—one Kaveh recognized as the Head of Robotics—walked over. Then two from Pharmacology. And soon, a small cluster of scientists had gathered around the table.

“I haven’t heard anything about a cross-departmental initiative,” someone said.

“Human tested regeneration? This… doesn’t seem standard.”

Kaveh stepped back, a knot of unease in his chest. He reached into his pocket for his phone.

No service. Strange. Even down here, they usually had at least internal comms.

He turned toward the exit—

Click.

The lab doors sealed shut. The mechanical bolt slid home with a smooth, final hiss.

Kaveh tried the handle. The usual sensor bypass. Nothing.

The scientists in the room went still.

A second later, the lights dimmed to emergency protocol levels. A massive monitor screen flickered to life, bathing the confused faces in an eerie glow.

A mask appeared.

A pasty plague doctor mask.

The same one that crashed Alhaitham’s graduation.

“Good evening, esteemed colleagues,” the Doctor said, like he hadn’t just locked thirty people in a lab. “Be not afraid. You’ve all been brought here because you are the future of Sumeru.”

Um. What in the dystopian fiction?

Murmurs broke out across the floor.

“You are witnessing a pivotal moment in human evolution,” the Doctor continued. “For too long, our potential has been limited. But humanity has now discovered the ability to transcend its fragile mortality, to become superior beings! To wield the very power of regeneration.”

Was Kaveh seriously watching a villain’s monologue right now??

The screen flickered—and gasps flooded the room.

On the top corner was a picture of a man with both arms missing. Underneath it was a time-lapse. The same man. Screaming. Bone and tissue growing from the stumps of his shoulders—

Two new arms flexed on the screen. Slightly scarred but undeniably whole.

“Subject 46,” the Doctor narrated. “Severe traumatic amputation. Successful testing via regenerative augmentation. Courtesy of the silica matrix provided by our Materials department and an outsourced component.”

Kaveh’s blood ran cold.

Another screen flickered to life. Footage from around the globe—heroes in action:
Sumeru’s Spider-Man swinging across rooftops.
Mondstadt’s Iceman freezing shockwaves in the air.
Natlan’s Ghost Rider melting tank armor.
Liyue’s Nightcrawler flickering through space.

“These powers are wasted in the hands of the few. A lottery of fate and mutation. But now? Science has caught up. We can all be exceptional.”

The Doctor chuckled.

“And so I ask: why limit what evolution intended to share?”

Then the screen went black.

A soft hiss began to fill the room.

Kaveh’s head snapped around.

“You are not the testing variable for today,” the Doctor’s voice boomed. “What happens outside this chamber… isn’t your concern.”

Steam vents near the walls opened—white vapor began to pour in. Someone shouted. Another banged on the door.

“They’re sedating us!”

Kaveh yanked off his coat and pressed it over his mouth and nose, scanning the blueprints again—

Was this why the regeneration team was on the rooftop? What was happening outside?

The corners of the documents blurred. His lungs burned.

People collapsed around him.

Kaveh staggered, vision tunneling.

Then—everything went black.

Kaveh stirred to the smell of something sweet.

His head ached, his throat felt dry. He pushed himself up, blinking against the harsh lights above.

Everyone else was still slumped over, sprawled beside blueprints, scattered tools, and now-inactive screens.

Silence. Then—

Fwoosh.

A tiny blur zipped across his vision.

“KAVEH! AL—SPIDER-MAN HAS BEEN SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!!”

Kaveh recoiled as a very familiar floating sprite hovered inches from his nose, bobbing excitedly.

“...You're from the alley.”

“I TOTALLY DO NOT KNOW WHO YOU ARE,” the sprite blurted. “Because—we’ve never met properly. Yes—ANYWAY! Hi! Paimon broke the lab door and let the gas out, so! You’re welcome!”

Kaveh gave her a long stare. “Sorry. Who are you again?”

She blinked. “Paimon.”

“Paimon. Thank you.” He managed a weak smile. “Is Spider-Man okay?”

“He’s fighting the weird Doctor upstairs.”

“Right. Can you help wake the others—oh, wait. That’ll be a panic catastrophe.” He stood up slowly, moving toward the desk with the tablets. “Maybe we can find something here to help.”

He hunched over the scattered blueprints, scanning page after page with a racing mind.

At the end of every proposition, the signature authorization was—under Zandik.

Regenerative sequences.
Airborne gas dispersal protocols.
A rooftop reactor.

“Rooftop? Gas?”

Then it clicked—

The Doctor couldn't inject everyone in the city. So an easier way would be exposing them. Like biological warfare.

His breath hitched.

There were no signs of a kill code. No failsafe.

“Paimon, could you help me look for someone with an orange badge named Layla? From Cybersecurity. We need to wake her.”

The sprite nodded. They both began rushing around, looking through the thirty bodies, then—

“Found her!”

Kaveh turned fast—and Paimon emitted a white, sweet-smelling beam over the unconscious scientist. Ah. So that’s what woke him.

Glasses askew, hair a mess, and eyes still unfocused—

“Layla,” Kaveh said. “I'm Kaveh. You’re the lead from Cybersecurity, right?”

“...That’s what they tell me,” she mumbled, sitting up. “What’s going on?”

“We have roles in a super villain plot.”

“…Cool.”

“I need you to check these. Is there any way you think we can reverse it?”

Layla blinked at the blueprints for a few seconds. “Well, we’ll need access to the original reactor schematics. Wherever the gas was manufactured…” she trailed off, frowning. “The build codes might be in the primary lab.”

Paimon floated behind them, chewing the air. “Oh. That’s behind us.”

They both turned.

“What?”

Paimon pointed toward the far corridor. “There were animals in there who don’t look too good. And a man.”

They didn’t hesitate.

The air was thicker in the lab. Dimmer.

Cages and tubes lined the walls. Biological waste, broken machinery, bloodied gloves.

And in one glass display—

A man.

Subject 46.

The same one from the video—but not triumphant. Not victorious. He knelt on the floor, cradling his arms—regrown, but pulsing unnaturally. His hands twitched, fingers splaying with a glow.

“I just… I just need to train,” he muttered manically. “I need to get used to it. It’s just an adjustment—just… adaptation—”

Kaveh stepped back. Horrified.

Layla, behind him, gulped. “Shit. It never worked, huh?”

“That’s why he’s doing this to the entire city,” Kaveh whispered. “He wants to find someone it’ll work on.”

Alhaitham. Tighnari. Cyno. Collei.
They were all out there. Unaware.

They stumbled away from the display, rummaging through the lab. Layla sat at one of the center monitors. Her fingers typed fast, bypassing authentication, frowning in concentration.

It took a while of her sighing and cursing. Numbers and images and documents flashed through the screen. But after fifteen minutes—

“Okay. I pulled the reactor’s master sequence and programmed a counter-protocol to shut it down.”

She held up a thumb drive.

“There’s no cellular link so this needs to be plugged into the reactor. Directly. That’s the only way to stop the gas from releasing.” She hesitated. “There’s also a password prompt on the reactor.”

“Let me guess. It’s pretentious.”

“It says: ‘Enter the temperature at which the universe ceases to function.’”

“Of course.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “Wait. You’re doing this?”

Kaveh, despite every logical part of him screaming, sighed. “You want to go instead?”

Layla only raised her hands in surrender.

Before Kaveh could even leave—

Paimon zipped in front of him like a tiny shield.

“NONONO, Spider-Man said you have to stay safe! You stay here! Paimon can put this in the reactor!”

Kaveh blinked, unimpressed.

“Okay. Do you know Planck’s temperature?”

“…Oh.”

He patted her shoulder gently. “Hey, I need you to send a message instead, okay? To a Commissioner Cyno in the Central Police Station. Tell him to get the city underground. Not basements. They need at least two levels deep. The University, the Akademiya, any office buildings. Even here. Full lockdown protocols.”

“But—”

“Go!” Kaveh turned on his heel. “I’ll be fine!”

Behind him, Paimon wailed dramatically.

“Ugh, Spider-Man’s going to KILL me!”

The city was on fire.

Not in flames—but in chaos. From somewhere on the twelfth or fourteenth floor, he saw malformed creatures roam the streets. Sirens shrieked in the distance. And overhead, an awful hum.

Kaveh didn’t stop running.

Because the blueprints noted that the reactor was set to go off at 12AM.

And the clock in the lobby had shown 10:38PM.

But the lifts? SHUT DOWN.

“Damn it, I’m gonna kill that doctor myself,” he grunted. “How much longer will this take?”

His side ached. His lungs burned. His knees throbbed—but he kept climbing up the emergency stairwell.

Then—

CRASH.

Glass exploded from some floors above him.

Someone landed behind him. Kaveh turned, catching himself on the railing—

“Spider-Man?” Kaveh gasped, startled.

And then his robotic voice—sharp, furious: “What the hell are you doing here?”

Before Kaveh could speak, a thwip of webbing yanked him forward—

BOOM.

The wall beside them exploded. Kaveh flinched.

A figure stepped out and—huh? Not the Doctor.

The Balladeer?

“What the fuck? This guy? I thought he retired!”

Spider-Man didn’t reply to that. Just grabbed Kaveh by the waist. "I'm going to throw you, okay?"

"You're going to what—"

Too late. Before Kaveh could register it, he was launched down—faster than gravity, whipping past floors in a blur. He barely had time to scream, just clutched the shoulder he could reach and held his breath.

They landed. Kaveh stumbled back, wide-eyed.

"Warnings require a process time, you know?"

Spider-Man steadied him. “Paimon found you?”

“Yeah. I sent her to Cyno.”

Something flickered across Spider-Man’s face.

Kaveh didn’t have time to worry about it. He pulled the flash drive from his pocket and shoved it forward.

“Here. The Doctor’s trying to turn the whole city into a testing ground.”

“What?”

“Long story but you can’t let the reactor go off. This is the shutdown code. Plug it into the reactor’s interface. Top of the building. Password’s Planck’s temperature.”

Kaveh didn’t say it—he didn’t have to.
He knew Spider-Man would know the value.

Because it’s Alhaitham.

A crash sounded above them.

Spider-Man webbed them across the corridor. Dropped him in the shadows of the underground passage.

“Go,” he said, clipped.

Kaveh turned—almost.

But—

“Alhaitham!”

The name escaped him before he could think. Cutting the air like a blade. Adrenaline made it feel like the right name. Because it was the right name.

Spider-Man stilled. Barely. But just enough.

Kaveh saw the shift in his body.
The faintest pull of breath, the way he tensely angled his head, probably to deny—

But as his eyes landed on Kaveh, there was only silence.

A heartbeat.

“You better not die,” Kaveh finally said, fierce and breathless. “Stupid.”

He sprinted into the dark stairwell, heart in his throat.

Alhaitham really better not die.

Chapter Text

Alhaitham had started combing through Zandik Corporation’s records the moment the Doctor attacked his graduation.

He traced every scientist tied to the company. Every paper signed off, every email chain, every project ledger. He filtered for researchers with access to classified sectors—anything that could give the Doctor the resources he’d need.

And every single time, the lines refused to converge on a plausible identity. No one in Kaveh’s lab fit.

So he widened his net.

Affiliates with shadowy ties, former employees, external consultants, even the seemingly untouchable board of directors.

The Doctor remained elusive.

Then came the fight with the metal pincer monstrosity. Right by the Zandik building’s front labs.

The raw, brutal efficiency of its attack, the unnatural speed and ferocity—wasn’t random. He knew that the moment the mini-pincer struck his neck and withdrew, syringe-tipped.

For blood.

That thing had been made for Spider-Man. By the Doctor.

That violent confrontation solidified two truths.

First: the Doctor was undeniably operating from within Zandik Corporation. The grotesque creature a byproduct likely gestated in their hidden labs.

Second: the Doctor wasn’t just some rogue scientist. He had authority. Power. Reach. Enough to breed a weapon in secret. Enough to go unchecked.

With a narrowed list, Alhaitham arrived at one figure.

The CEO. Zandik.

Who ironically always wore a mask over his face. At tech summits, conventions, and even in his own office.

A dark, beak-featured mask.

Kaveh’s casual anecdotes about the CEO took on a more sinister weight.

“The man just stabbed a sword into our prototype. Not decorative. Functional. Electric. Can you believe that? So weird.”

Even if the Doctor hadn’t wielded such a blade, the detail felt too specific to dismiss.

Weeks passed. Alhaitham watched the building. Monitored transmissions. Watched Zandik come and go, entering and disappearing out the underground labs that Alhaitham couldn’t slip past.

Then one Friday night, as Alhaitham waited for Kaveh to complete his mandatory evening meeting, a familiar prickle of unease went through him.

And he knew it wasn’t merely because of Kaveh's delay.

He climbed the radio tower scaffolding to get a vantage.

And then—

A figure. On the rooftop. Cloaked.

Face obscured by the same plague doctor mask. Shoulders held with eerie stillness.

The Doctor’s face turned.
In Alhaitham’s direction.

As if he’d known Spider-Man would be here.

Zandik Building – 10:15PM

Alhaitham tapped a quick comm through to Lumine, terse:

“The Doctor confirmed. Upper roof, Zandik Building.”

He kept his gaze fixed on the figure across the rooftop. The Doctor hadn’t moved. Not a twitch. Like he was a carved statue.

Then—his comm crackled. A return transmission. Cellular.

“Spider-Man.” Lumine’s voice, tight. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind?”

“The streets are flooding. With creatures. Like the monkey and lizard I fought before. But worse.” She cursed, sounds of movement in her background. “Some of them aren’t even using their limbs properly—dragging themselves like broken marionettes, glitching. Not hard to take down but there’s a lot of them.”

Glitching?

Alhaitham’s eyes narrowed. “Any of them with the same sand the doctor used?”

A crackle. “—one tiger had a sand paw.”

Experimental failures, perhaps.
Discarded test subjects.
Used now as distractions.

“Likely the Doctor’s.”

“What I was thinking,” Lumine replied. “I’ll take care of this. You focus on the plague mask.”

The feed cut out.

Alhaitham returned his focus to the Doctor.

Still unmoving. Still watching.

The wind curled around them. One breath passed.

Then—

WHAM.

A blast of force struck him from behind, hard and fast. Alhaitham flipped midair, instincts flaring. Landed on the balls of his feet on a separate ledge.

A figure stepped in front of him.

Sleek. Sharp. Electric blue.

Alhaitham blinked. Frowned in confusion.

It was a face he hadn’t seen in months. One of Sumeru’s serial villains.

The Balladeer.

“I thought you’d finally retired,” Alhaitham said, dry. “Or perhaps the novelty of constant defeat wore thin.”

The Balladeer scoffed. “Did it ever occur to you that I left to get stronger?”

Alhaitham dodged a gust of violent wind. “So you admit your previous attempts were lacking?”

The Balladeer’s response was a snarl. Another sharp slice of wind blades sliced through the air towards Alhaitham.

Alhaitham leapt away. “You work for him now?”

A flicker of irritation passed over the Balladeer’s face.

“I work for no one.”

Then he lunged.

Combat erupted. The Balladeer moved with the same brutal precision he always had—like a blade made flesh, a storm made manifest. Alhaitham found himself on the defensive.

A swirling vortex of wind slammed into Alhaitham’s guard. He blocked. Webs snapped through the air.

“So you’ve regressed to an underling,” Alhaitham grunted.

“Shut up,” the Balladeer hissed. “Let’s not pretend you know anything.”

They collided again.

Then—

“SPIDER-MAN!!”

A burst of white light shattered across the rooftop. The Balladeer cursed and reeled back, momentarily dazed.

Paimon.

Floating in a panic, arms flailing. “I came to help! Lumine told me to back you up, and there were all these monsters, and then—”

“Go find Kaveh,” Alhaitham’s said flatly, already prepping for another strike. “Keep him safe.”

“But—Lumine said—!”

“I’m saying I don’t need help. His meeting is in the underground labs. Go.”

Paimon hesitated, but shrieked when a slash from the Balladeer cut between them.

She zipped away through a shattered window into the Zandik building.

Alhaitham used his webs to create shields of sticky strands to ensnare the Balladeer’s limbs, while simultaneously dodging the relentless wind attacks that tore at the surrounding environment.

And through it all—

The Doctor only stood. On the far edge of the rooftop.

Watching.

Zandik Building – 11:01PM

The sky above pulsed with a violet shimmer.

The Doctor had turned from his idle observation, his coat rippling as he adjusted something on the machine. The reactor hummed—low and thrumming, like a beast waking.

Alhaitham was still locked in combat.

But mid-spin—Alhaitham saw it. Out of the corner of his eye.

Someone running. From inside the Zandik building. Taking the stairs up the side emergency like a lunatic.

Kaveh.

Alhaitham crashed through the building’s window in an attempt to dodge the Balladeer.

He dropped down on the stairwell. Kaveh spun to him, stumbling, wide-eyed and panting, wind whipping his hair.

“Spider-Man?!”

Disbelief warred with a surge of fury in Alhaitham’s chest. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He didn’t wait for an answer—yanked Kaveh toward him just as—

BOOM.

The cement beside them exploded inward. Smoke and debris flared like shrapnel.

Out stepped the Balladeer. Cracked knuckles. A look of venomous rage in his eyes.

Kaveh blinked, bewildered. “What the fuck? This guy? I thought he retired!”

Alhaitham quickly glanced down the stairwell, hands going around Kaveh, murmuring, "I'm going to throw you, okay?"

"You're going to what—"

Alhaitham didn’t even register the Balladeer’s growl of annoyance before pushing Kaveh away and webbing the villain out of the jagged hole. He hurled himself downwards a split second later, manoeuvring them past countless flights of stairs until they landed with a softer thud on the ground floor.

Kaveh swayed, breathless. "Warnings require a process time, you know?"

Alhaitham quickly assessed Kaveh’s disheveled state. “Paimon found you?”

“Yeah. I sent her to Cyno.”

Alhaitham barely suppressed his nod. Spider-Man shouldn't know Cyno. But Kaveh didn’t seem to notice. He was already digging into his pocket, frantic.

“Here.” He shoved a small thumb drive into Alhaitham’s hand. “The Doctor—he’s trying to turn the whole city into one big testing ground.”

“What?”

“Long story but the reactor is going to disperse gas particles that are unsanctioned so you can’t let it go off. This is the shutdown code,” Kaveh said, urgent. “Plug it into the reactor interface. Top of the building. Password’s Planck’s temperature.”

Alhaitham blinked.

He didn't have the time, the mental bandwidth, to process why Kaveh just assumed Spider-Man knew Planck’s temperature.

CRASH.

The Balladeer roared from above them.

Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh again. Webbed them both across the corridor to a safer corner.

“After you do all that, make sure to get underground, okay?” Kaveh said, still holding on to him. “I told Paimon to spread the word.”

Alhaitham nodded, nudging him toward the underground lab stairs. “Go.”

He turned, a line of webbing shooting up to the floor above when—

“Alhaitham!”

The sound ripped through the adrenaline-fueled haze.

And like a fool—he froze. Just a fraction. Just for a breath.

Not enough to kill him. A curse formed in his throat, the automatic question ‘Why are you calling for your roommate?’ hovering on the tip of his tongue as he turned his head—

And saw Kaveh.

Looking right at him.

Steady. Fierce. Beautiful. Red eyes lit with something knowing.

The rooftop noise faded for a moment.

Just the weight of Kaveh's gaze pressing down on him.

Then—

“You better not die.” Kaveh’s glare was sharp, voice firm despite the tremor. “Stupid.”

He bolted into the shadows below.

Alhaitham stared after him.

The sounds of battle filtered back into his ears—distant crashes, shouts, the hum of the reactor far above.

But all Alhaitham could hear was the echo of that voice. Of his name. Spoken with total certainty.

What.
How.
When.
Why.

Punch. Was it recent? Weave. Was it Paimon? Dodge. Had Alhaitham slipped something up as Spider-Man? Swipe. Or was it—

The realization hit Alhaitham with a force of the Balladeer's wind blast.

Fontaine. Kaveh leaving and returning. The squinting looks. All the odd little comments.

Alhaitham really should’ve known.

This Morning – Shared Living Room

For instance:

After Kaveh had mentioned his mandatory meeting, he hadn’t even looked dismayed.

So happy. So carefree. Clearly, Spider-Man had been keeping him entertained.

So Alhaitham had asked, offhanded: “Will you not miss the people here when you go to Mondstadt?”

Kaveh had tilted his head. “Hm? We can video call Cyno and Tighnari.”

No mention of Spider-Man. It was to be expected.

“...What about Spider-Man?”

“Oh? What about him?”

Alhaitham's eye had twitched.

What about him. As if they weren’t having stolen moments every day on rooftops. As if Alhaitham didn’t know the exact rhythm of Kaveh’s breath when they were chest to chest.

Kaveh had laughed. “I guess I’ll miss zipping through the air? Nothing much else though. He just saves me sometimes.”

Alhaitham had stared. And Kaveh had smiled back. Perfectly innocent.

That had struck him. Just slightly. He’d nearly frowned. Nearly cracked.

“Oh, now that I think about it, you’ve never been saved by him, huh?” Kaveh had tapped his chin. “Maybe we should put you in danger before we leave.”

“I don’t think he’d save me.” Because Alhaitham couldn’t save himself.

“Why not? He saves everyone.”

And maybe that had been the last warning.
A warning Alhaitham didn’t see beyond his turmoil.

“He saves you a bit more than everyone, no?” Alhaitham had bitten back.

There’d been a pause. And then a smile—slow, wicked, knowing. “What? Are you saying he likes me? That he’d be heartbroken if I go to Mondstadt?”

Alhaitham’s grip had tightened on his book.

“That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Kaveh had continued breezily. “Besides, I’ll have you with me. Why would I miss Spider-Man?”

Alhaitham had just stared. Silent. Processing fourteen implications at once and failing spectacularly.

And Kaveh—had just turned away. Like nothing had happened. With a glint in his eyes.

That glint.

That knowing, infuriating glint.

All this time.

The pain registered in full a second later. Something definitely cracked.

The Balladeer stalked forward, wind blades at his sides. “What’s wrong, Spider-Man? Getting slow?”

Alhaitham held out flat-palmed stop toward the Balladeer.

“Just a moment. I’m going through something.”

The Balladeer blinked. His scowl deepened.

One beat.
Two.
Three.

“…Are you done?” The Balladeer asked, deadpan.

Alhaitham sighed. A long, world-weary thing.

Then, without warning, he webbed a boulder-sized chunk of roof debris and hurled it across the space between them.

It slammed into Balladeer with a satisfying crash. “I’m done.”

They launched back into the fight—webs slinging, wind rushing, fists colliding mid-air.

He ducked a blast. Webbed Balladeer’s leg.
There’d be hell to pay later.

But for now—he needed to hit something.

Zandik Building – 11:18PM

Sirens cut through the chaos.

First faint—then louder, approaching from all sides. A helicopter beat the air above the skyline, its spotlight sweeping past the rooftop and casting long shadows.

Good. It meant Paimon had made it. Cyno knew what was happening.

Another clash rang out as Balladeer lunged again—but this time, Lumine intercepted, a blade of light parrying his strike with a flash of gold. She didn’t speak as she drove Balladeer backward.

“Spider-Man!” Paimon zipped after her, tossing a flashbomb in the air. “Did Kaveh—”

“I have the drive,” he replied, sharp.

Lumine nodded at Alhaitham. “You go for the Doctor!”

Alhaitham didn’t need to be told twice.

He turned—webbed across the rooftop to the glowing hum of the reactor. It stood like a monolith against the night sky, pulsing low and deep. The Doctor was there already, fingers dancing across a control panel.

“You’ve arrived, Spider,” the Doctor murmured, as if greeting an appointment.

Alhaitham didn’t answer.

Instead, he slammed into him feet-first.

The Doctor grunted, stumbling backward, cloak catching the wind. But he only hissed through his teeth. Then laughed.

“Strong as ever,” the Doctor mused, dodging the next hit.

Alhaitham ignored him. Slipped the thumb drive from his suit pocket. Still intact.

He kicked low, webbed a metal panel, and yanked it into Zandik’s side. Pushed him far.

Then Alhaitham swung toward the terminal—every sense on high alert.

Suddenly—

A shimmer.

The air shivered—like a mirage. The black sand again. But this time it wasn’t modest like the graduation. It was a storm.

Writhing like smoke but heavy. It didn’t obey wind. It twisted—unnatural—and collided with Alhaitham mid-air. Punched the breath from his lungs, dragging him off his feet.

He hit the ground hard, vision lurching for a moment.

And the drive slipped from his fingers.

Alhaitham tensed.

He webbed it. Breathed in relief.

But the sand drowned him. He ripped free, shot high up, and fired a web straight into the Doctor’s face.

But it was sliced—by a sword.

Crystalline and thrumming, something made of frozen lightning.

Zandik’s weapon that Kaveh had mentioned.

And with a flick of the Doctor’s wrist, the black sand surged. A spear, a whip, something serpentine—Alhaitham dodged. But the momentum was broken. His foot caught the sandy tendril—

And the drive slipped from his fingers a second time.

Swallowed by the sand. Then spitted out.

Off the edge.

Gone.

A long, low whistle came from the Doctor. “Ah. I wonder why you so desperately held onto that,” he said, almost cheerful. “I suppose the scientists downstairs made it out?”

Alhaitham stared at the edge of the roof. Wind roaring. Sirens below. His jaw clenched. For half a second, the weight of it pressed down like gravity—

Then he snapped upright.

And launched himself at Zandik.

He’d dealt with worse.

If he couldn’t stop the reactor the easy way—
Then he’d stop it the hard way.

Zandik Building – 11:31PM

The rooftop trembled under the weight of battle.

Zandik moved like a conductor directing a storm—arms raised, black sand crashing like waves. Alhaitham tore through it, muscles burning, web-lines snapping taut as he hurled himself back and forth to avoid the pillars of grit that rose to impale.

It was like fighting smoke that punched back.

And yet—

Crack.

His fist caught the sand outside of Zandik’s jaw.

The impact didn’t touch skin—but Zandik winced.

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes. The next blow was faster—duck, web, leap, kick. It was like trying to beat a sandbag into submission—but even bags had limits.

Unfortunately, so did Alhaitham.

Sand yanked at his ankle—he tore it off.
Sand clawed his back—he rolled forward.

It screeched in his ears, scratched his lenses, pulled him down like gravity incarnate.

“You’re persistent,” Zandik said. “A shame it’s wasted.”

Alhaitham flung himself over a wave of debris. “I thought villains had the courtesy to monologue after they won.”

“Oh, since we have time, why don’t I start early,” Zandik smiled. “You’re trying to stop this because you think I’m another lunatic with a god complex.”

The ground beneath Alhaitham exploded, sand launching upward like shrapnel. He flew back, hit the gravel hard, choking on grit.

“But you wouldn’t know, Spider-Man. You’re merely a university graduate. I want to build something new from Sumeru’s ash. With the right minds. And you’re the proof that it can be done. No sickness. No weakness. Pure adaptability.”

He gestured, and the reactor pulsed behind him—radiant.

“Don't you see? With your body and my brilliance, we could evolve beyond biology—beyond death, disease, failure. A species reborn.”

“You talk too much.”

“Oh, come now. Don’t you care what you are? Don’t you want to know what made you this way?”

Alhaitham webbed a loose antenna and flung himself forward like a bullet.

“No,” he said, and punched Zandik in the face.

Zandik reeled—Alhaitham drove him back, blow after blow. Sand surged to protect him, but the attacks were too fast, relentless.

His fists blurred. His lungs burned. He had to reach the reactor.

Then—

Ding.

Both their motions froze.

The rooftop door slid open.

Lights from the emergency lifts spilled out, cutting through the storm of sand.

And—

His heart stopped.

Kaveh.

Zandik hummed. “Ah, so you don't work here. You just know him.”

Zandik Building – 11:38PM

Alhaitham didn’t think. Just moved.

He webbed Zandik’s arm, yanked, and slammed a knee into his gut. Sand burst outward—but he tore through it, webbing limb after limb as they tried to reform.

A rapid-fire—thick, layered, soaked with electrified webbing he'd saved for emergencies. They wrapped Zandik like a cocoon, sealing him in white cords and crackling static.

Then he gripped the cocoon like a shotput—and launched.

Away from Kaveh—

His current biggest problem in the world.

Who was just standing there. Wind in his hair. Frowning.

Why was he frowning?

Alhaitham landed by him, furious. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh, don’t even start!” Kaveh hissed back—and held up the drive.

The thumb drive.

“I give you one job,” he shouted, voice echoing across the rooftop. “One!”

Alhaitham grit his teeth, dragging a hand down his face. “Kaveh, it’s dangerous. You need to go—”

“And let you lose this again? What are you gonna do, stop the reactor with the power of friendship? Punch first think later?”

“Seriously—”

“Thank God Cyno found it downstairs! Thank God they got the lifts working! Do you even understand what’s happening here?!”

“I can take that!” Alhaitham snapped.

“No! And you know what?” Kaveh spun to face him fully, jabbing a finger into Alhaitham's chest hard. “You have so much to tell me about! You liar!”

Alhaitham stopped dead. Blinked. His livid expression faltered—before returning.

“Oh, really? Me? And when did you know?”

“A while ago! You think you’re slick?” Kaveh scoffed.

“And you decided to trick to me instead of confronting me?” Alhaitham countered.

“You don’t get to talk about tricks right now—”

“My identity was a necessity. You used that—”

“Oh, I used it? I?” Kaveh’s hands flew around in exasperation. “You used it first! You started it!”

“You blatantly flirted with my alter ego—”

“Excuse me?! You kissed me! Crawled into my room being all ‘oh, I’ll hear your roommate’—”

“You let me in!”

“Oh, don’t pull that—”

“A masked stranger, I might add—”

“You mean a dishonest asshole who had absolutely no complaints at the time—”

They continued their heated, too loud squabble, until—

“Are you quite finished?” a voice drawled from across the roof.

They both turned.

Zandik floated midair on a rising swell of black sand, deeply annoyed.

“I unleash a device of immense destructive power, and you are here arguing about secrets?” he said, unimpressed.

Alhaitham exhaled sharply.

“We can have this conversation later,” he snapped.

“We will!” Kaveh shouted back, stomping toward the reactor. “You go stop that stupid villain and I’ll put the drive in!”

“I can—”

“You can’t do both! It’s set to go off at twelve!”

Alhaitham stared at him. He’d never been more infuriated in his life.

“Why didn’t you mention that earlier?!”

“It slipped my mind!” Kaveh threw his hands in the air.

A vein throbbed faintly at Alhaitham’s temple. He was the closest he’d ever been to freaking out, but he turned—back toward the Doctor—who was already gathering another wave of sand, expression pinched like he’d bitten into a lemon.

“Honestly,” Zandik muttered, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You’re the CEO. You don’t get paid.”

“Ah? So you found out.”

Alhaitham launched himself back into the fight.

Kaveh popped the reactor panel open with a clang. “You better not die!”

“I know!” Alhaitham shouted mid-air.

Both of them were red in the face. Both completely in sync. Neither looking at each other.

It was going to be alright.

(Doubtful.)

Chapter Text

Zandik Building – 11:17PM

Kaveh heard the police sirens the moment he was about to re-enter the underground labs.

His heart jumped. He turned on his heel, sprinting back toward the surface—please let it be—

It was.

Cyno was already barking orders across the lobby, eyes sharp, flanked by officers in full gear.

“Tighnari’s helping the efforts at the Akademiya,” Cyno said by way of greeting. “The little flyer explained what she could but—what’s the full situation here?”

Kaveh exhaled in relief—then started talking fast.

Explained the gassed scientists, the human experiments, the Doctor’s blueprints, the reactor, the gas, the thumb drive, the timing. Everything.

Cyno’s expression darkened. “The city was riddled with bizarre creatures as well. The flying thing said it was related to the Doctor. So this is an actual taking-over-the-city level threat?”

“A full on taking-over-the-city threat. Or destroying the city probably.” Kaveh nodded, chest tight. “We need to get everyone underground. The lab levels here are shielded. We can shelter people there.”

Cyno turned to his officers. “Set up perimeter surveillance. Priority is getting civilians below ground before 12AM. Move.”

Within minutes, they were clearing nearby buildings, setting up guidance lights and issuing directions through megaphones. Civilians began trickling down the narrow stairwells into the old research wings. The rooftop above rumbled faintly with each tremor—Spider-Man.

Then—

A patrol officer jogged in from the entrance, holding something awkwardly crumpled in his hands.

“Captain! This… dropped outside. It looked important.”

He handed a ball of spider webs over.

Cyno took it, uncoiling the strands of white carefully—and paused.

Kaveh craned his neck, saw what was tangled in the threads, and froze.

His stomach dropped.

“You’ve got to be kidding me—”

It was the thumb drive.

The one Alhaitham was supposed to use.

Kaveh cursed. Loudly. Vehemently.

“That idiot!!” he hissed, grabbing it. “I gave him one—one—simple job!!”

Cyno arched an eyebrow. “We need to get this back up thirty floors before 12AM?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Kaveh snapped. “But the lifts are—damn it!”

“We can fix the lifts. I’ll tell one of my officers to go—”

“You can’t, it’s password protected,” Kaveh muttered. “Unless your officers know Planck’s temperature value? Safer to have all parties know it if Spider-Man’s incapacitated.”

A beat.

“We can write it on paper?”

“No time,” Kaveh sighed, running to the stairs. “You guys get the lifts going! I’ll get a head start!”

“Be careful!” Cyno called out.

“You too!”

The main clock displayed: 11:28PM.

Kaveh groaned. He had sooo much to yell at Alhaitham about.

Zandik Building – 11:40PM

Kaveh settled by the reactor in a huff, mind still reeling from his quarrel with Alhaitham. The sounds of battle raged around him. He kept his eyes on the terminal, focused, fingers shakily locating the ports.

He jammed the thumb drive in. Moving fast across the pad, typing the override code:

[1.4.1.—]

From across the roof, he heard Alhaitham call:

“Do you even know Planck’s temperature?”

Kaveh didn’t look up, pressing the next number.

“Don’t confuse it with Planck’s constant!”

“Of course I know!!” Kaveh shouted back.

Infuriating. Like a fly. Absolutely unbelievable.

Before Kaveh could type in the next number—

Alhaitham’s body came hurtling across the rooftop like a ragdoll, swallowed by a tidal wave of writhing sand—something alive.

Kaveh jerked upward.

When he looked to the side, the Doctor had gone full monster, encasing himself in a massive, undulating form. Limbs of dust and fists of grit, his voice became a low mechanical tremor in the air.

Black sand shot out straight toward—

“ALHAITHAM!”

Kaveh lurched forward—too late.

A monstrous hand swatted the web-slinger across the skyline, his silhouette disappearing into the dark like a comet across the stars.

Kaveh’s scream barely left his throat before pain stung his hand.

He gasped, stumbling backward. Looked down—

A needle. Long. Gleaming. Jammed into the side of his right palm. Blood welled up around it.

“Wh—what is this—”

“So that’s his name. I hadn’t expected you to know him personally.”

SHIT.

Alhaitham was so in the right for not telling Kaveh his identity.

Through the pain, he yanked the needle out. Clutched the thumb drive impossibly in his hand.

Then—

Sand closed in. It curled around his legs. His waist. His arms. Lifted him up in the air.

It was cold. Familiar.

“…Is this… is this my sand?”

From the center of the storm, the Doctor laughed. A deep, synthetic rasp.

“Do you see its potential now?”

“Potential?” he snapped, struggling against the tendrils. “You’re using it as a weapon! This was meant to protect people!”

“Hm… I suppose you don’t agree, then, when I said you were the future of Sumeru?”

The Doctor’s voice was almost pitying. The sand coiled tighter around Kaveh’s torso. He gritted his teeth, voice rough through his panic.

“You don’t even know if anyone will survive the mutation! Subject 46 was a lie!”

“He’s under observation.” Zandik sounded bored. “And if this fails, I’ll simply move on to the next country. Zandik Corporation has bases in every nation.”

Kaveh’s heart dropped. Eyes wide. His voice came out hoarse. “You’re insane… What if it keeps failing? You’re going to wipe out the planet!”

That—finally—got a rise.

“I won’t fail!”

As Zandik roared, the sand gushed into Kaveh from all sides. Like a tidal wave. He was drowning in it. Breathless, suffocating, clawing at anything at all. His limbs fought. His lungs burned.

Then—the pressure parted, like a curtain.

He collapsed forward, choking, eyes teary, sand still thrumming around his limbs. When he opened his eyes, his heart dropped to his stomach. His body seized.

They were high up. The reactor and rooftop seemed to be meters away.

The sand approached. He looked back in front, and—

Hiss.

The Doctor’s plague mask split into two. Folded back.

The face inside—pale blue hair, pale skin, familiar red eyes like coals in a corpse.

The CEO.
Zandik.

Kaveh scowled in disbelief. He knew the man was weird. Even more since he threw bread at him once.

“You truly don’t believe in my ideology?” Zandik asked softly, mockingly. As if this were merely a classroom debate.

Kaveh, chest heaving, limbs trembling, met his gaze. Eyes flickering with resentment and fear.

“This isn’t an ideology. It’s tyranny.”

Zandik’s expression twitched. A shadow of disappointment—or ire.

“A shame. I had wanted the scientist who half-pioneered this to stand beside me.”

And then—

The sand peeled away like mist.

And dropped Kaveh.

Down.

Down—

Zandik Building – 11:47PM

There wasn’t time to scream.

Just wind. Just gravity. Just the sharp snap of his heart in his chest, the wild roar of the sky in his ears. The stars blurred above him, lights receding fast—

Then—

A brutal whiplash slamming into him.
A grip like iron around his waist.
Arms.

Kaveh gasped, the breath knocked clean out of him, as they twisted through the air.

And—

CRASH.

They didn’t just hit the rooftop. They went through it.

The weakened structure, already unsteady from non-stop combat and sand, gave way under their impact.

Concrete showered. Beams snapped. Glass exploded. Kaveh barely registered a hand on his head, the ceiling scaffolding flashing past—

Until they landed. Hard.

Alhaitham took the brunt of the impact. Back-first. Kaveh landed heavily on top of him.

The world went silent.

Kaveh couldn’t move. He was still frozen, still gasping too fast, body shaking uncontrollably.

“Are you okay?” came the low, steady voice beneath him.

Alhaitham’s arms hadn’t let go.

Kaveh blinked hard. His throat burned.

“Are you okay? You were tossed like a baseball!” Kaveh choked out, a hysterical edge to his voice.

“I’m fine,” Alhaitham murmured, chest rising and falling under Kaveh’s hands.

One arm tightened around Kaveh’s waist, the other flicked out—thwip—webbing them to a steel beam embedded in a relatively stable section of the broken roof.

“Stay here. I’ll come for you after—”

“But the reactor—”

“There’s no opening,” Alhaitham cut in. “He won’t let us near it. Not with the sand. I have to stop him first.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“But—”

“Kaveh.” The name tore from Alhaitham's throat—sharp, strained. Both hands came to Kaveh’s shoulders, a silent plea. “Just—trust me. When have I lost? Hm?”

“This is so not the time for you to be smug.”

Alhaitham leaned in, forehead gentle against Kaveh’s. “I’ll stop him. Then we’ll go to the reactor together.”

Kaveh exhaled, a mix of irritation and reluctant resignation, fingers digging into Alhaitham’s suit.

“…Fine. But you better keep your word. Or we’re all turning into mush at twelve. And if we die before I get answers from you, I’m going to haunt you forever.”

“Nobody’s dying.”

Before he could pull away, Kaveh pressed a swift kiss to his forehead. “Go. Be safe.”

Alhaitham huffed quietly and turned.

“Wait! The sand!” Kaveh called, voice still shaking. “It reforms. But some of the impact carries through. If you choose one spot and go at it over and over... You should break whatever’s on the inside. Or you can use his sword."

Alhaitham nodded. “Understood. Don’t move, okay?”

And then—
Thwip.
He zipped away into the darkness.

Kaveh stayed frozen, heart still hammering. He stared out over the edge of the broken floor, at the empty plunge beyond the scaffolding. The wind howled through the cracks.

He scooted back, shivering. “There’s nowhere for me to go anyway.”

Zandik Building – 11:52PM

Constant impact. Until the sand broke. Until the inside broke.

Alhaitham knew where to hit now.

The chest.

He had webbed Zandik’s sword away mid-combat—far enough that the sand couldn’t reach without leaving Zandik defenseless.

Then Alhaitham drove his fist through the chest wall of sand. Again. And again. Zandik screamed. Sand tried to reform—but Alhaitham was faster. Stronger.

Time was ticking.
Kaveh was waiting.
This needed to end.

Alhaitham slammed Zandik through a concrete pillar, stone crumbling around them, and as the impact stunned the man, Alhaitham saw it—sand revealing pale, raw flesh.

Thwip—the sword came back to Alhaitham’s hand.

Without hesitation, he plunged it into Zandik’s chest.

The scream that tore from Zandik’s throat was inhuman.

The sand around him pounded on the floor—as if screaming with him. It convulsed, writhed. It pulled Alhaitham backward, the sword nearly ripping from his hands as Zandik bled behind that awful mask.

Then—

A horrifying crack.
The rest of the roof buckled.

There was an alarmed shout.

Alhaitham’s heart stopped. He turned on instinct, sprinting back toward the rupture in the rooftop—

The sand snapped around his legs, yanking him back.

“Wait, I’m okay!” Kaveh’s voice, loud over the chaos. “Just beat him up!”

But Alhaitham couldn’t. He fired a frustrated line of webbing to Zandik’s chest and ripped him across the rooftop, pinning him to a shattered beam. He ran back to the hole, skidding on ash and rock.

And there Kaveh was.

Bodily wrapped around a broken support beam, gripping the ledge with bloody fingers.

Alhaitham shot out a thicker, braided line of web—reinforced, double-twisted, just like he’d practiced for extreme weight.

“Grab on!”

Kaveh did. Shaking, gasping, holding onto both the support beam and the web.

But then—

“SPIDER-MAN!”

A voice soaked in fury.

Alhaitham was slammed away. He scrambled up, blocking another blow, dodging a third.

The sword was still lodged in Zandik’s chest. He was slower. Weaker. Yet, he was desperate.

Then—

A low groan of metal.

“Alhaitham!” Kaveh’s voice again. Panicked.

Alhaitham webbed Zandik away again. Launched himself toward the sound, swinging over broken rubble and scaffolding.

His eyes darted wildly inside the hole.

Kaveh was still holding the braided web-line, swinging gently in the open air, but far below the rooftop now. A gash cut across his temple. His palms were red and raw.

But he was smiling. “I’m fine!” he shouted, breathless. “I caught it!”

Alhaitham barely managed to exhale—

“I don’t think he’ll be fine, Spider-Man.”

A sandy tendril, gleaming with glassy sharpness, snapped through the air—

And sliced clean through the web-line.

For one sickening second, the world held still.

Then—

Kaveh was falling.

Zandik Building – 11:55PM

Time slowed.

The world blurred.

There was no scream. Not even a sound.

Just—

Red. Gold.
Hair. Arms flailing.
Wind and gravity. Pulling him away.

Alhaitham leapt, full body stretching, lungs burning, chest splitting open with pure terror.

His web fired.
The line sang through the air.

One—thwip—shot to Kaveh’s shoulder. Another—thwip—wrapped around his knee. Then another and another and another—

He couldn’t care if he used up all of them.

Slow him down. Need drag. Reduce terminal velocity. Use physics. Physics—

He attached the lines to Kaveh’s limbs, his torso, his waist—and every anchor he passed. Steel beams. Concrete slabs. Half-shattered walls.

The lines grew taut.
The threads trembled.
Kaveh’s fall slowed—but he was still too far.

Alhaitham web-zipped downward, claws digging into support beams to redirect, to accelerate, to reach—

He could see Kaveh’s hand grasping at the air.
Could see the way his eyes were wide.
Could see the terror in them.

His body twisted midair, dragged at by the webs but still pulled down by gravity’s merciless grip.

Alhaitham dove, every muscle straining, arms outstretched—

I’m going to reach him.

I’m going to reach him.

He wasn’t going to reach him.

The webs snapped.

And then—

The sound tore through the chamber like a tree splitting.

Kaveh’s body hit the ground.

Zandik Building – 11:56PM

The world didn’t spin.
It just stopped.

Kaveh’s body wasn’t moving.
His eyes weren’t open.

Body crumpled. Arms splayed. Blood blooming beneath him.

Alhaitham couldn’t breathe.

He stepped forward—then collapsed, knees giving out as his fingers hovered above Kaveh’s temple, his jaw, his chest.

He didn’t know where to start.
He didn’t know what part was safe to touch.

He needed to—
Apply pressure, call emergency services, assess damage—

But all thought and movement had vanished.

Alhaitham’s hands were shaking.
He'd never seen his hands shake.

“Kaveh?” he breathed out, ragged.

A flutter of lashes—barely lifting.

Kaveh’s gaze was glassy, unfocused—but it found Alhaitham.

His lips moved. Cracked. Blood-stained.

“…roof…” A rasp. A sound that could’ve been a laugh or a death rattle. “Badly… constructed…”

Alhaitham didn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t okay. And—

It was hard to breathe. His mask slipped off. But he still couldn’t breathe.

Kaveh’s fingers twitched. Fumbled at his waist. Trembled as he pulled something out and pressed it—weakly—into Alhaitham’s palm.

The drive.
Smudged. Cracked.

“…reactor…”

Alhaitham stared at it. Then threw it aside like it burned.

“No. That’s not important—we’ll fix it later—”

“…people…” Kaveh’s voice, barely a whisper.

“I don’t care about people,” Alhaitham snapped, almost shouting. “You don’t get to give me a goddamn dying monologue like this. You’re not—”

His voice didn’t shake. But it wasn’t his.

“You’re not—”

“Haitham—”

“No. No. Shut up.”

His voice broke on the last word.

Kaveh only looked at him. And somehow, he smiled. Not sad. Not brave. Just soft. Familiar.

“Caught… you…” His finger drifted toward Alhaitham’s face. Unmasked. “Owe… answers.”

Alhaitham’s eyes squeezed shut. He crushed Kaveh’s hand in both of his, as if that would anchor him to consciousness.

“Anything. I’ll answer anything. If you just—" He gripped tighter, unable to finish the sentence.

There was too much blood.
Too shallow breathing.
Too little movement—

He struggled to press his com device. “Traveler, I need you here. Now.”

But Kaveh’s eyelids were already falling.

No.

“Hey—hey,” Alhaitham said, panicked. He shook him gently, thumb brushing his pale cheek. “Kaveh. Look at me. Don’t close your eyes.”

Only a weak smile as a response.

“Stay awake. Don't—" His voice cracked. "You’re not allowed to—not now—”

Nothing.

“Please,” he whispered. “Just look at me.”

But Kaveh’s eyes closed.
His hand went still in Alhaitham’s.

“No." He clutched tighter—listening for anything, anything. “No, no—don’t do this—please—”

Everything inside Alhaitham tightened.
His throat wouldn’t clear.

Then—

Footsteps.

Alhaitham didn’t look up.

He sat, paralyzed, ear straining for any breath in the blood-soaked silence. Mind in mayhem.

A low, stunned voice cut through the silence:

“Alhaitham?”

He finally raised his head.

Cyno.
Staring.

At the Spider-Man suit.
At the shattered skylight.
At Kaveh’s bloodied body cradled in Alhaitham’s arms.

And right there—

Cyno saw Alhaitham break.

Zandik Building – 12:00AM

It was already midnight.

Cyno should’ve been underground by now. His team had been dispatched ahead—hazmat suits on, flashlights sweeping corridors, the gas from the reactor expected to leak any minute.

But he had heard it.

Something like wires pulled taut.
A series of sharp snaps.
Then a sickening thud.

He had stilled. He’d heard that sound too many times before in his career. The unmistakable crunch of bones. A body hitting concrete.

It had come from somewhere above, in the far wings.

“Go,” he’d told the last of his squad. “I’ll sweep east.”

He’d pulled on his gas mask. Two officers flanked him, already suited. They moved quickly and quietly through the stairwell, the corridors.

Cyno saw it first.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for it.

A breach in the ceiling. Rubble strewn in a halo of moonlight. And in the center of it—

Spider-Man.
And a body.

The vigilante had his mask off. Grey hair hung, face pale, speckled with sweat and grime and something darker.

Even in the shadows—Cyno recognized him immediately.

“Alhaitham?”

Teal eyes snapped up. Jaw clenched like he was trying not to scream. Shoulders trembling. Face streaked with wetness. One hand curled protectively over the unmoving body’s chest, as if to coax the heart there to keep beating.

Only then did Cyno realize whose body it was. His gaze hadn’t even registered it fully.

Because there was only one person Alhaitham would fall apart for.

Cyno’s stomach turned.

Kaveh.

His limbs at the wrong angles, skin far too pale, golden hair matted with red.

For one beat, Cyno just stared. At Alhaitham. At the tears. At the blood. At the way Kaveh’s chest barely stirred.

Then duty kicked in.

He strode forward and shoved the discarded mask into Alhaitham’s shoulder. “Put it back on. We’re not alone.”

Alhaitham did. Robotically.

Cyno knelt beside Kaveh. Closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

He couldn’t even assess it.

He lifted his radio. “Cyno. Code Red emergency at the Zandik Building. Multiple severe trauma injuries, probable internal bleeding and fractures, unresponsive. Immediate medical evacuation required. I repeat: immediate evac, critical.”

He glanced back. Alhaitham hadn’t moved. Still holding Kaveh as though letting go would kill them both.

“Hey. Help’s coming, okay?” Cyno said, gripping Alhaitham’s shoulder. “…Is the reactor off?”

A pause. Then the faintest shake of a head.

“Shit—”

A blur of white and gold crashed through the ceiling above. A figure landed beside them. Blonde. Clad in white battle gear. And the small, winged creature from earlier hovering beside her.

They took one look at the scene and froze, eyes wide.

The flyer wailed. “Kaveh?! Oh no—what happened?!”

The Traveler stepped forward carefully, as if afraid to alarm the stillness. “Spider-Man,” she hesitated, grim. “I’m sorry. The reactor—it's starting to release the gas—”

Alhaitham tossed something across the space.

“Password is 1416784,” came the modulated voice.

The Traveler gripped the thumb drive, smudged with blood. She gave a final pitying look to Alhaitham, then nodded.

Cyno stepped forward. “You should probably get a hazmat suit. Or at least a gas mask.”

But the vigilante just gave an ominous smile. “I’m sure we’ll be okay.”

Then she and the flying creature rocketed up through the broken ceiling into the night.

Moments later, the paramedics arrived. Hazmat-suited. Fast.

They rushed in, assessing, stabilizing, lifting. Kaveh didn’t stir. Alhaitham didn’t speak. Just watched. Silent. Masked.

He took one step after the stretcher—but Cyno blocked him.

“Spider-Man. No.”

He still tried to pass, so Cyno pushed him back, hand firm on his shoulder.

“Alhaitham. Listen. You’re in shock right now,” Cyno said, voice low. “You need to get underground before the gas—”

“No.”

It was soft. Firm.

Cyno sighed. “Fine. But if you’re following him, you’re not doing it in that suit. Get out of here. Into civilian clothes.”

Alhaitham hesitated. For a long while.

Then he vanished into the shadows.

Cyno walked back out to the paramedics who were loading Kaveh into the ambulance, hooking him to machines that screamed too many warnings. His grip on the doorframe tightened.

He’d seen many injuries like this before. They usually weren’t survivable.

But for all their sakes—
He prayed for a miracle.

📰 THE DENDRO DAILY
NO SIGHT, NO SWING, NO SAVIOR?! - Has the Web-Slinger Spun His Last Thread?
Sources Claim Leak Involved “Experimental Tech"—Officials Deny Cover-Up

The crowd murmured at the morning newspaper's headline.

Spider-Man hadn’t made a public appearance in two weeks.

No rooftop shadows. No black and green blur in alleys. No familiar crack of webs catching onto steel.

Some called it burnout.
Others whispered about injuries, death, desertion.
Cyno refused to comment.
The Traveler said nothing.

The city was already up and running—the Hazmat crews had worked overtime a week ago to filter lingering gas particles. Protesters camped outside government buildings. Conspiracy theorists flourished like mold. All in the name of a “factory gas leak”.

They didn’t know about the thumb drive. The Doctor. The reactor. What it took to stop it.

They didn’t know about Kaveh.

Chapter Text

There were voices. Soft, steady. Treading on apologies and explanations.

“I’m very sorry—”

Someone said his name. It could’ve been Cyno. Or Tighnari. Or the doctor. He didn’t flinch.

He hadn’t spoken since they’d taken Kaveh away.

Alhaitham sat in the Bimarstan hallway, hands bloodless in his lap, gaze fixed on a blank patch of wall. Pale, beige, unremarkable.

No footsteps. No ringing. Not even the fluorescent lights above him dared to hum.

The world had gone quiet.
Not still—quiet.

1.5 years later

Favonius Industries, Mondstadt

The walls of Favonius Industries were made of cement and glass—cold, bare. A stark contrast to the vibrant homey chaos Alhaitham had grown accustomed to. He didn’t mind it. He hadn’t minded much of anything in the past year.

“—and that’s the cryo lab on B7. Sorry for the rough tour. Albedo was supposed to do this but he’s out today,” the blue-haired man said, crisp and precise. He extended a hand. “Kaeya Alberich. Cryo project head. Good to finally have you with us.”

Alhaitham shook it without thinking.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled—the kind he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He let go, expression unreadable. “I’ll remember that.”

Kaeya grinned. “I’m sure you will.”

Mondstadt. The so-called city of freedom. Lately just another research hub to him. Home of the vigilante-heroes Iceman and Pyro. He likely stood before one of them.

Not that it mattered. Alhaitham wasn’t here to chase that life anymore.

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 15 months ago

Alhaitham sat by the bed, hood drawn low. The only sound in the room the steady hum of machines. Beyond the glass, the skyline was grey.

He hadn’t touched the second cup of coffee Lumine brought him. Hadn’t even looked at it.

“I know you tried,” she said quietly.

The words barely registered. Like everything else.

Lumine let the silence linger. Then, gently: “Are you ever coming back as Spider-Man?”

There was no flinch. No answer.
Which was answer enough.

She nodded, as if she’d known all along.

Alhaitham’s voice came low. “If you hadn’t come—I wouldn’t have gone back up there.”

It went unspoken: I would’ve let the gas spread. I would’ve let the city choke.

His eyes stayed trained on a pale, bandaged hand. One that hadn’t even twitched in two weeks.

“He did everything to keep that drive safe.” His jaw locked. “And I’d still trade all of Sumeru for this to not have happened.”

He didn’t say it like a confession. He said it like a fact.

He couldn’t be Spider-Man.

Not when their values were incompatible.

Not when everything Spider-Man stood for—justice, duty, sacrifice—had dragged Kaveh into a hospital bed with a metal rod in his leg and staples in his skull.

Alhaitham finally looked at her. “You understand, don’t you?”

That every other life paled in comparison. That if he was ever put in a situation to choose—the greater good simply meant nothing.

He hadn’t chosen to stop being Spider-Man. He simply wasn’t anymore.

Lumine’s gaze softened. No pity—just quiet knowing at his explanation. “I do.”

Favonius Industries – Present Day

Alhaitham hadn’t wanted to come to Mondstadt in the first place.

It had all started as a calculated move to pull Kaveh away from the Zandik Corporation. To keep him safe. Little had he anticipated the Doctor’s timing to derail those plans.

Alhaitham closed his eyes briefly, exhaling.

He didn’t like thinking about it.

Tighnari had told him to take the placement anyway. Lumine had agreed. “The change might be good. A different sky,” they’d said. “You can’t do nothing forever.”

So Alhaitham had deferred his placement. Spent a year in Sumeru. Then boarded the plane north.

And now he was listening to the droning cadence of the course instructor outlining the curriculum, the project deadlines a neat, predictable grid on the projected screen.

Kaveh would have hated it. Too rigid. Too clinical. No creative license.

But he was also right—Alhaitham would certainly breeze through this.

It was a far cry from the turbulence of the past year.

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 15 months ago

A line of sutures peeked from beneath the edge of the dressing at the temples. There were wires—IVs, oxygen, heart monitor nodes. The chest there rose and fell with artificial rhythm, helped along by machines.

Kaveh had always hated hospitals. He would have complained about the lighting first, then the bedsheets, then the ceiling tiles.

But Kaveh couldn’t complain now.

Alhaitham sat by the bed, a book cracked open. The third one this week.

“Chapter Twelve. Structural Integrity and the Metaphysics of Beauty. You always said this chapter was arrogant. I maintain that you hated being told you were wrong.”

There was evidence that people in comas could still hear. Their brains might recognize sounds, familiar voices.

He glanced at the still form in the bed. Kaveh must be annoyed at the silence.

“You may contend the structural unsoundness when you wake up,” Alhaitham murmured as he turned a page. “The inherent flaw in prioritizing aesthetic deviation over fundamental load-bearing capacity is akin to constructing a magnificent façade…”

Later, Kaveh’s hand had twitched—twice—when Alhaitham read the sections Kaveh loathed.

As if he still wanted to argue, even now.

Predictable.

Favonius Industries – Present Day

He exited through the automated doors, the murmurs of other graduates fading into a dull hum.

The Mondstadt air felt crisp, almost unnervingly so. The lobby was bright. Blue sky beyond the glass. Sunlight catching the dust motes in the air—

“There you are! Seriously—you really should learn to read your texts!”

Alhaitham blinked.

“Don’t just stand there like a statue. I got lost three times trying to find your department. You said 3PM.” A phone screen was waved in his face. “It’s 3:13PM.”

Alhaitham only stared. At Kaveh.

Bright-eyed. Windblown. Standing in the middle of the lobby with a scowl.

A deep sigh escaped the blond. “I can’t believe it. Over a year of a break and your brain cells have melted.”

Alhaitham’s lips twitched. “My brain cells are intact.”

“Well, I hope so. Because I heard your program is quite challenging and I’d hate to go back to Sumeru alone because you failed.”

“Hm. You wouldn’t keep me company here?”

A familiar flush crept up Kaveh’s neck. “Alhaitham—”

“The course brief is manageable,” he cut in smoothly, handing Kaveh the printout. “You would despise it.”

“Well, thank God I’m here for research,” Kaveh muttered. Then he leaned in, whispering behind the brief: “Also, the ventilation here is atrocious. I saw condensation dripping from a pipe, Alhaitham. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes! And don’t even get me started on the workstations. They don’t even use adjustable desks. Ergonomics. Basic human rights. They’re conducting cutting-edge research while getting scoliosis.”

Alhaitham reached for the brief as they walked out, amused. “You were spoiled before.”

“Ugh, don’t start. I miss my old lab and it’s only our first day here.” His eyes darted to Alhaitham then, a playful glint in them. “You should be thankful for me. I came all the way here for you.”

“I am.”

Despite Alhaitham not wanting to be here at all.
Despite this being Kaveh’s idea.

But Kaveh responded with a smile. Wide. Teasing. Breathtaking. The scar tracing his temple stretching with the motion.

And truly—Alhaitham was thankful for a lot of things in the past year.

“Come on,” Kaveh said, grabbing his hand. “There’s a place my supervisor talked about called Angel’s Share. We should try it.”

“You just want to try their wine.”

“I’ve heard good things about it!”

The familiar exasperation in his tone, the undeniable, impossible reality of him standing there like they had planned more than a year ago.

Kaveh was here. Loud as ever.

And Alhaitham was grateful for the noise.

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 14 months ago

Darkness, at first.

Then flashes.

The night sky. Falling. Wind.

The shape of someone reaching.
The sound of something breaking.

Then nothing.

Just blurs—light filtering through closed eyelids, the shift of bed linens, noisy machines. A whisper he couldn’t hold onto.

And then—

“Kaveh?”

His mind grasped at it like a drowning hand to a branch.

But it slipped away as he sank again into black.

Sometime later—there was that voice again.

“Don’t force it. You’ve been out for a while.”

Kaveh didn’t know what hurt more—his body or his head. His mouth felt dry. His tongue clumsy.

But he managed, barely, hoarse, raw: “…Haitham?”

Something warm pressed gently against his hand, just as he drifted again.

The next time his eyes opened, they stayed that way.

The light was dim, his vision swam—outlines smudged and doubled. His head throbbed with the slow pulse of pressure. Everything hurt, but only in a distant, dulled way.

Then—

A hushed voice. The same one he’d heard all this while.

“…aesthetic elements to a structure, devoid of functional necessity, introduces inherent weaknesses and serves merely as a distraction from sound engineering…”

A face registered. Both familiar and strange—tired eyes, a tight jaw, grey hair slightly grown out. As if time had passed.

His throat was dry, raw. But he managed to croak painfully: “So bleak.”

The reading stopped.

Alhaitham’s head turned like he was looking at a ghost. Like he was waiting for Kaveh to fall asleep again.

And Kaveh—despite the ache, the fog, the confusion—forced himself to stay awake. To smile.

“No taste… in books,” he rasped slowly. “Hi.”

Alhaitham blinked, something in his expression softening. He looked down for a moment. When he looked back up, his smile was small.

Barely there. But there.

“Hi,” Alhaitham whispered back.

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 14 months ago

Well, damn.

Kaveh blinked up at the ceiling, equal parts dazed and unimpressed.

He was... injured. Not a-slight-inconvenience injured—but injured injured.

Almost flirting with death type of injured.

He sighed. It could’ve been worse. He could’ve actually died if not for Alhaitham’s webs breaking the fall. Not a clean landing—but it was the difference between a hospital bed and a gravestone.

Lucky you hadn’t snapped your neck or broken your spine, the doctors had said.

But his luck came with side effects.

His memory was spotty. Not gone, but some things were scrambled in the back of his mind. Like a drawer he'd forgotten how to organize.

Cyno had leaned forward over his bed after Tighnari’s teary greeting and asked, in a wary tone: “Do you remember anything Zandik said to you?”

And Kaveh had blinked, confused.

“Who?”

All three people in his room stared at him.

“Zandik. The CEO of Zandik Corporations."

Kaveh blinked again.

“You work for him.”

“…Really?”

The look on their faces would’ve been funny if Kaveh hadn’t been brain-injured.

And yet, a few days later, long after visiting hours had passed and the room had gone quiet, Kaveh’s eyes shot open.

“OH MY GOD, HOW DID I FORGET THAT ASSHOLE—"

The doctor said it was normal with traumatic brain injuries, that it would recover as time passed. Kaveh was just thankful he remembered his friends.

At least he now had context for what Cyno had mentioned before:
The Traveler had found Zandik bleeding out on the rooftop and dropped him at Cyno’s station. Zandik Corporation was apparently undergoing “internal restructuring,” which was corporate-speak for our CEO became a supervillain now we’re in PR hell.

But they were paying his medical bills. So Kaveh couldn’t complain.

What he could complain about was everything else.

His mouth didn’t work like it used to. His limbs had apparently made the decision to go on strike. He was in constant pain. The doctor had recommended speech and physical therapy, gently reminding him that it might take months of work. Kaveh had nodded. Infuriated.

But not that infuriated.

Because through it all—

Through every drop of silence, every fumbled motion, every groggy hour in and out of sleep—

Alhaitham was there.

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 13 months ago

He didn’t leave when Kaveh had cried, quiet and ashamed, repeating “it’s that thing” because he couldn’t remember the word for construction.

“Let’s try rehabilitation. Do you know what it means?”

“Rehabil-iii-tation. I’m in rehabilitation. Support or recovery. Easy.”

“Discombobulated?”

“Dis-com-bob—” Kaveh frowned. Took a deep breath. “Dis-com. Bob-U. Lated. Discombobulated. You are… discombobulating. Confusing.”

“I’m conscientious, actually. Try conscientious.”

“Hm? Pretentious? You? I agree.”

Alhaitham rolled his eyes. With a smile. And Kaveh smiled back.

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 12 months ago

He didn’t leave when Kaveh blundered his movements over and over, making a mess out of his surroundings.

“I can manage,” Kaveh huffed, hand trembling as he tried to grip the edge of the walker. “You don’t have to help.”

“You almost fell yesterday.”

“It was a moment! I was dizzy!”

Alhaitham didn’t move from his place at Kaveh’s side. “That moment almost sent you headfirst into the IV rack. Do you know what headfirst means?”

“I know—and I dodged the IV rack.”

“You hit the nurse’s cart instead.”

“…So annoying.”

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 11 months ago

He didn’t leave even when Kaveh lashed out unfairly, irritated and exhausted at his own lack of progress.

“Are you certain—”

“I said I’ve got it,” Kaveh snapped, pouring out tea with only a slight tremor in his right hand. “How am I supposed to get better if you keep doing things for me?”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow. “You’re spilling it.”

“I’m working on it! Gods—” Kaveh set the teacup down. Glaring. “Stop babying me.”

“I’m keeping you afloat.”

A snort. “Well, good job, nurse. I’m not dead.”

A clink.
Not a slam. But the ceramic cup in Alhaitham’s hand met the table just a little too hard. Loud enough that Kaveh winced.

Silence.

The air went still—heavy and uneven.

Kaveh shifted. Glanced sideways. Saw the tension in Alhaitham’s jaw, the way his fingers curled too tightly around the handle, knuckles pale.

“…Sorry,” he said quietly.

Alhaitham didn’t reply.

The thing is—Kaveh remembers. That night.

His memory was still foggy in places. But the haze never touched that.

The snapping of webs giving way.
The rare panic flaring in teal eyes.
The trembling hand gripping his bloodied one, voice shaking, asking him to stay awake.

A wave of guilt washed over him. If the roles were reversed, Kaveh would probably be just as bad. Maybe worse.

But Alhaitham stayed. Patient.
Not asking for anything. Not even thanks.

Kaveh reached out, brushing Alhaitham’s arm, unsure if he still had the right. “Hey.” A soft pat on the empty space beside him. “Come sit here.”

A beat passed. Then Alhaitham rose and came to sit beside him, close but not touching. Kaveh leaned gently, shoulder against his. Felt the warmth of him, solid and steady, like gravity reasserting itself.

They sat like that for a long time.

Eventually, Kaveh lifted his hand, brushing it along Alhaitham’s jaw. Then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to his temple—a silent apology, a quiet thank-you, maybe both.

Soft. Grateful.

Alhaitham still didn’t speak. But his shoulders loosened. And his hand curled gently around Kaveh’s.

After a while, Kaveh asked:
“You want to clean up the tea I spilled?”

Alhaitham let out a long-suffering huff. “Trust you to only require help when cleaning your mess.”

Sumeru Bimarstan Hospital – 10 months ago

He didn’t leave even when it took forever for Kaveh to reach a definite milestone.

He had walked twenty steps without the cane. He breathed hard, beaming, hands on his hips like he’d just been told his mom was marrying the King and he was going to be Sofia the First.

Alhaitham didn’t clap. Didn’t rush forward. Didn’t say anything except, “You’ve been training behind my back.”

“Obviously. I wanted to surprise you!”

Alhaitham nodded despite the furrow in his brows. “You’ll need new shoes soon. Your gait’s changed slightly.”

“Ugh. So many things to buy. Thank God the company’s paying for everything.”

Shared Living Room – 9 months ago

And when they were back at their apartment, Kaveh flopping onto the couch and crying about how much he missed the scent of dust and paper bags, Alhaitham still stayed.

Quiet. A faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he crouched to unlace Kaveh’s shoes. With a whole bag of Kaveh’s prescriptions and appointment schedules and vitals.

And really—

Kaveh—tired, full of longing, heavier with gratitude than his body knew how to hold—murmured it without thinking: “I love you.”

Barely audible.

But Kaveh knew Alhaitham heard it. Because when he stood up, he didn’t even take off his satchel—just held his face, leaned in, and kissed him.

No preamble. No questions. Just steady and sure.

Shared Living Room – 8 months ago

But what was strange—almost disconcerting—was how Alhaitham was always around.

Always.

Kaveh had assumed perhaps when he was cleared by the doctors to recover at home, maybe Alhaitham would resume his usual routine.

Return to his former duties.

But no. He was in Kaveh’s line of sight. Every moment of the day.

So one afternoon, when the light had gone soft and golden, Kaveh decided to call it in.

“You said you’d tell me anything, right?” he said, out of nowhere.

Alhaitham blinked from where he sat on the couch. He closed his book, nodding.

“How did you become Spider-Man?”

A pause.

“I’m not Spider-Man.”

Kaveh deadpanned. “You’re not seriously doing this right now. My TBI did not erase that.”

Alhaitham’s lips twitched. Then—

“I was Spider-Man.”

Kaveh stared. The words settled over him like a dropped blanket—soft at first, then crushing in their weight.

Was.

He felt it like a physical shift in the room’s gravity. Something cold around his ribs.

“You—” He stopped. Frowned. Swallowed. “But people need you.”

Alhaitham didn’t answer immediately. He looked out the window, something distant in his gaze, unreadable.

“They need someone who would choose them,” he said at last. “Someone who believes no single life is more important than the rest.”

He turned back to Kaveh. Eyes fixed. Unflinching.

“I don’t believe that.”

Kaveh didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He wondered, for a moment, if he should feel guilty.

Alhaitham had always preferred working for his own motives, but hearing it like that—so plainly—made something in Kaveh ache.

No grand declarations. Just Alhaitham, recounting with terrifying ease that he had abandoned the city, the mask, the cause—for what? Him?

The quiet stretched.

“So… no more coming home with bruises?”

Alhaitham nodded. Kaveh smiled.

He didn’t know if it was possible to fall any deeper than he already had. But if it was, this was it.

But of course:

“Wait, that’s romantic and all, but you didn’t really answer my question. Oh, and don’t forget about the lies.”

“We both lied. Might I say you were worse. You tricked both of me.”

“I was betrayed. My mom thought I lost my job and all my savings from how I stormed back home!”

“And you told Spider-Man that you liked me. But then kissed Spider-Man. But then told me that you wouldn’t miss Spider-Man. Because you had me—”

“Okay, okay, you know what? We can both explain. But you start first. From the veeery beginning.”

A deep sigh. “Well. I was in my final year in the Akademiya…”

Mondstadt – Present Day

Kaveh lay sprawled across Alhaitham’s chest, limbs tucked under the blankets. Alhaitham had one hand absently sifting through his hair, the other draped across Kaveh’s lower back like a paperweight.

The room was quiet. Peaceful.

Only the faint scars around his scalp, temples, and legs testified that the past year of recovery hadn’t been a dream.

“Hey,” Kaveh said softly, his voice breaking the quiet.

“Hm?”

Kaveh shifted slightly so he could look up at him, chin resting on Alhaitham’s sternum.

“I just realized,” he murmured. “I confessed to you. Three times.”

Alhaitham blinked. Then gave a thoughtful nod. “You did.”

“But you never confessed even once.”

Alhaitham tilted his head slightly, as if pondering this seriously. “Was it not clear when I kissed you?”

Kaveh scoffed, sitting up slightly and crossing his arms, mock-offended. Even as Alhaitham’s arm stayed snug around his waist.

“Nope. Not clear at all. You have to do it like I did.”

Alhaitham let out a slow sigh, lips curling faintly.

“Mm. How did you do it the first time? I have a roommate,” he began, tone so dry Kaveh narrowed his eyes. “He’s incredibly infuriating. Argumentative. Oblivious to fault. Attractive—mainly to trouble.”

“Hey—” Kaveh lifted a hand to swat him, but Alhaitham caught it and laced their fingers together.

“He’s stubborn,” Alhaitham continued, as if uninterrupted. “Loud. Believes in ideals completely opposite to mine. Has a tendency to stomp over my peace with chaos. The main source of all my frustrations, truly.”

“Okay, I said such nice things—!”

Alhaitham tugged him closer, arm tightening around his middle.

“And yet,” he said quietly, “I don’t think I can live without him.”

Kaveh felt it like a sucker punch to the chest.

His heart did that thing where it felt too big for his ribs. Warmth bloomed up his neck too fast. He slumped back into Alhaitham’s hold with a huff. An absolutely embarrassing grin across his face, immediately hidden in Alhaitham’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” he muffled into the skin there.

“Were you not asking for a confession?”

“It’s so different when your face is right here! How can you just say that?!”

“I minored in languages.”

“Ugh, stop using your education against me.”

Kaveh threw his hands over his face in pure dramatics, but Alhaitham gently tugged them down, amusement on his face.

“Should I put a mask on?”

Kaveh laughed breathlessly. “No way.”

He leaned in, brushing their noses together first, a playful nudge—then gently nipped at Alhaitham’s lower lip before sinking into a kiss, softer this time.

Alhaitham tilted his head, letting it deepen, savoring the stillness of it. His fingers threaded through blond strands, another tracing circles along the curve of Kaveh’s spine—a silent language they both understood perfectly.

There was no hesitation. No teasing left. Just warmth and skin and the overwhelming sense of finally.

When they parted, Kaveh didn’t even try to play it cool—just flopped back down onto his chest, flushed and smiling like a fool. Melted into him, into this.

Alhaitham hummed low in his chest. “Is that clearer?”

“Mm. Crystal.”

Chapter Text

📰 THE DENDRO DAILY
WHERE IS HE? – Spider-Man’s One-Year Hiatus Sparks National Speculation!
Has The City’s Last Line Of Defense Vanished For Good?

The cameras flashed as a reporter shoved a mic toward him.

“Commissioner, Sumeru’s Spider-Man is gone. How is the city supposed to survive now? We only have the Traveler left while other nations have two or more supers.”

Cyno’s eye twitched.

“The police are not worried,” he stated firmly. “Citizens shouldn’t be either. We have new technology to combat villains. And tactical plans in place.”

The mic hovered closer. Cyno stared it down like a personal insult.

“…although I agree. He could have left a note.”

Cyno was going to arrest Alhaitham when he returned from Mondstadt.

🌱 THE SUMERU SPROUT
MONDSTADT – Is it retirement? Relocation? Or more?
Sources claim the possibility of Spider-Man Abandoning Sumeru for Love!

“Yeah, Spider-Man literally swooped my boss up outside the Zandik Building once,” said a young man with a Zandik badge. “I think a few times, actually. He gets into trouble a lot. There’s this compilation on YouTube you can watch.”

The man shoved his phone into the camera. A video with the title Spider-Man's Most Dramatic Rescues played.

The top comment with 14.2k thumbs ups read:
more than half of this is just that one blond guy??

“See? That’s my boss. Then he moved to Mondstadt. The timing matches Spider-Man disappearing. So… maybe they got married? Spider-honeymoon?”

The street interview nodded as if they received very serious information.

“And who are you?”

“…I’m just an intern.”

Favonius Industries – Physics Labs 32

The lab was too quiet for a facility that normally buzzed with researchers and engineers scrambling to meet deadlines.

But it was early. And Alhaitham, true to form, preferred solitude when working. The high ceilings and observation decks of the Favonius Labs cast shadows as he perched from a steel beam near the top of the atrium, observing a rotating energy core.

He heard the door open.

Light footsteps.

“Alhaitham?” A familiar melody that still sent warmth through him.

He glanced down—there was Kaveh, squinting at the machinery like it had personally offended him.

Alhaitham released his grip on the beam and let himself drop several meters—

Then stopped. Hanging upside-down in front of Kaveh.

“Oh Gods! Are you serious?!” Kaveh exclaimed, frowning. “Why are you still doing this!”

“You came to find me.”

“Because you forgot your lunch! And I’ve got a meeting later, so you either eat alone or make more friends.”

Alhaitham took the brown paper bag Kaveh was wiggling and webbed it to a table in the corner. Then swiftly planted a peck on Kaveh’s eyebrow.

Kaveh rolled his eyes, as if that would dampen the rosiness blooming on his cheeks. “So you’re using your abilities for personal gain now?”

“I’m observing the magnetic field dispersion from a unique vantage point.”

“And what if someone walks in?”

“I have super hearing.”

Kaveh scoffed, but a smile was already pulling at his lips. “Right.”

Then he stepped closer, lightly pulling Alhaitham’s face forward for a soft, lingering kiss—a familiar echo of an alleyway long past.

Alhaitham’s fingers brushed against his side in a gentle warning. And with a sudden tug, whoosh—

Kaveh let out a sharp yelp as they ascended in a blur.

Boots scraped metal. Alhaitham settled them on the observation deck, high above the lab floor. Kaveh flushed against him, eyes wide, mouth parted as if to scold.

“Be careful,” Alhaitham cut in before he could, guiding one of Kaveh's hands around the steel of the railing. “Hold on to this.”

“I was holding the floor until you abducted me.”

“Mm. Complaints noted.” Even as he said it, his other hand didn't leave Kaveh's waist.

They stood like that for a moment. Too close. Too quiet. The energy core hummed beneath them, unnoticed.

Kaveh tilted his head. “You’re supposed to be observing the core.”

“I am,” Alhaitham said, looking right at him.

Kaveh laughed, a small, helpless sound, turning his head to the core. “Really? Then why is it—”

Alhaitham’s hand caught Kaveh’s jaw, tilting it back toward him. His lips brushed—once, twice, then deeper, unhurried, mouth catching Kaveh’s soft inhale. Kaveh’s fingers tightened in Alhaitham's shirt as he pressed him softly against the railing, tongue brushing just enough to make Kaveh’s breath stutter.

“You’re unbelievable,” he smiled, lips dragging over Alhaitham’s. “What do I say if your lab mates arrive?”

“That I needed you for a second opinion,” Alhaitham murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his chin.

“On what, exactly? Physics—”

Alhaitham pressed his lips to his again before he could finish.

This time, Kaveh leaned into it without hesitation. Tasting of coffee and exasperation. His hands slid up, threading into Alhaitham’s hair, tugging gently. Lips moving slower. Deeper. Dizzier. More thorough—anchored by touch and the thrum of the core below.

And then—

“Ahem.”

The sound cut through like a shard of ice.

Kaveh jolted, pulling away so fast he nearly headbutted Alhaitham.

Two men stood at the entrance of the lab: one with long blue hair and a teasing smirk, the other a redhead with the energy of a disappointed professor.

Morning rounds.

“Kaeya,” Alhaitham said blandly.

The redhead raised an eyebrow. “Is this what Favonius R&D has come to these days?”

Before Alhaitham could stop him, Kaveh was already stepping forward on the deck, all flailing hands and frantic defense.

“No! No, no—he’s doing great,” Kaveh blurted. “He’s, like, twice ahead of everyone else in the program! A prodigy—ask Albedo, or anyone! He’s not usually like this, he’s just—led on—”

Then, slightly disoriented, Kaveh missed a gap in the perforated steps.

And Alhaitham was going to die of a heart attack before reaching the age of 30 because—

Kaveh was falling.

Three things happened at once:
Kaeya moved.
The redhead lunged.
But Alhaitham was closest.

He vaulted the railing in a blink, caught Kaveh mid-fall, and landed gracefully without strain—Kaveh secure in his arms.

10 meters away from the deck above.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Tense silence.

Kaveh gaped in his arms.

Despite the distance from the entryway, Kaeya and his companion were inhumanly already under the observation deck, having closed the gap without a sound. And something in their expressions—sharp, assessing—put Alhaitham’s senses on edge.

He didn’t need confirmation. He knew.

He exhaled as he let Kaveh down. Perhaps he should ask Kaveh to work remotely. Preferably from a room exactly his height.

Kaveh immediately stepped in front of him. “I am so sorry! I was a little… unsteady.”

“No, I’m glad you’re fine,” Kaeya said, pointedly looking up to the ledge far above them. “Good catch.”

“Yes! Alhaitham’s really good at gymnastics! Very athletic.”

Alhaitham blinked slowly. He had never done gymnastics.

“Also, that was all me. Really. Alhaitham’s just easily influenced—”

“It’s quite alright.” Kaeya crossed his arms, eyes amused. “As long as the work load is met. Just make sure you don’t get caught next time.”

He sent Alhaitham a look as he said that. Alhaitham deciphered that it was either about Kaveh—or using his abilities palpably. He simply looked away.

Mondstadt’s own hero-vigilantes would have found out soon enough.

“Well, duty calls, Diluc. Let's leave the brilliant minds to their… research. I’m sure you can keep an ear out for anyone else, right, Alhaitham?”

The redhead remained unimpressed, but Kaeya gave Alhaitham a distinct, almost conspiratorial wink.

Alhaitham met his gaze evenly. “I can.”

Even if he hadn’t heard a thing until they were already inside. But that was to be expected.

As they disappeared, Kaveh let out a shaky breath. Then spun to Alhaitham, voice mocking: “So much for ‘I have super hearing.’”

Alhaitham nodded absently. “I do. I’m also fairly certain that was Iceman and Pyro.”

A beat.

“What?!”

“Also, remind me of the ceiling height of our apartment?”

“…around 4 meters? Why?”

Alhaitham sighed. “Too high.”

📰 THE DENDRO DAILY
DISAPPEARING ACT – Hero Relocation Trends!
Spider-Man in Mondstadt a hoax? Mondstadt officials refuse to comment.

The lab hissed, all mist and cold steel. A wall-mounted core glowed blue. Kaeya adjusted the iced rifle, aiming at a reinforced test wall.

“Kaeya,” Jean began, arms crossed. “What are the rumors about Mondstadt gaining a new hero? Spider-Man?”

“Spider-Man?” A crackling pulse echoed as Kaeya fired. “Sounds like someone’s been reading the wrong tabloids. I haven’t seen or heard anything strange lately.”

Jean raised a brow. “Really.”

“Really. If a new ‘hero’ shows up, I’ll be the first to let you know. Probably. Eventually.”

“Kaeya.”

Kaeya smiled, leaning lazily against broken ice. “Oh, but there are two new employees from Sumeru. Very interesting people.”

Behind him, the cryo core hummed, steady as a secret.

🌱 THE SUMERU SPROUT
THE BALLADEER’S OPEN LETTER TO SPIDER-MAN: “Coward!”
Serial villain “The Balladeer” demands Spider-Man’s return! Bitterness or heartbreak?

“They definitely dated,” a girl nodded to the camera. “Because why does he care so much? No one just says that publicly without feelings.”

“It’s giving ex-boyfriend energy,” another boy said. “He’s been fighting Spider-Man since his debut, no? So tragic.”

“And Spidey moved to another nation with a new boyfriend?” the girl snorted. “Like. That’d be my villain origin story for sure.”

The camera shook as the group snickered.

Off-screen. A crash. A screech:
“—the fuck are you saying!!”

The camera tilted to the ground. Chaos. A sigh, long and pained.

“Someone call the Traveler.”

Mondstadt – Cliffs North of Stormterror's Lair

Alhaitham stood at the edge of the ruin’s spine, the old stone beneath his boots brittle with age. He was dressed simply—plain civilian clothes.

He heard her before he saw her—a light breath, a gust cutting sideways. Lumine landed a few paces off, uniform shimmering.

“Where’s Paimon?” he asked.

“Wow. It really is true. You like her more than me,” Lumine replied flatly. “I left her back in the city to handle things while I’m gone.”

Alhaitham nodded. “Sumeru will have two vigilantes soon?”

“Yeah, she’s weirdly excited. She likes the fabric on your old suit, by the way.”

“That’s good.”

Lumine stepped up beside him, glancing down the cliffs. “So the Doctor was sentenced to prison. Turns out he was linked to something bigger. Some supervillain organization in Snezhnaya.”

“Is that where you’re headed?”

“Liyue first. Updating Nightcrawler and Zhongli.” More nodding. “How’s Mondstadt treating you? Have you met the heroes here?”

“No,” Alhaitham said. Not bothering to explain the unspoken détente: mutual silence for mutual convenience.

Lumine shrugged—as if that was expected. And when she turned to leave their monthly scheduled updates, she paused once. Her gaze flicked beyond him. A smile touched her lips, teasing.

“Hi, Kaveh.”

Alhaitham didn’t need to look. He heard the barely-stifled gasp.

He’d heard him breathing the entire time.

From the old archway behind them, Kaveh emerged—hair windswept, sketchbook in one hand. He raised the other in a sheepish half-wave.

Alhaitham deadpanned. “He wanted to come.”

“Mhm,” she said, unconvinced but charmed. “Sooo nice. I want someone to follow me around like that.”

“What happened to that orange martial arts student?”

“He left after graduation,” Lumine sighed. “Went back to Snezhnaya. Maybe I’ll find him when I get there.”

He hummed noncommittally. Then she vaulted into the air, shrinking into the clouds.

“I’ll head off first!” she called. “See you guys back in Sumeru!”

Before she even fully vanished, Alhaitham turned. Kaveh was pursing his lips like he was trying to decide if he was annoyed or embarrassed.

“I told you we have super hearing.”

“I didn’t want to impose,” Kaveh huffed. “What if she’d been unmasked?”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow. “Her mask is mesh. It’s a gesture.”

“Well, a gesture’s still an effort?”

And despite the rudimentary effort, Kaveh still couldn’t pinpoint Lumine.

Alhaitham reached out and tugged Kaveh by the wrist, drawing him closer. Not controlling. Merely… aware. He always became more apprehensive the higher up Kaveh was.

Kaveh let himself be guided. Turned to survey the broken rooftops of the Lair. Then tilted his head thoughtfully. “You know… if we climbed that ridge, you could probably see all of the old aqueduct line from there.”

Alhaitham followed his gaze. Then past it to the further cliffs. “I believe there are better vantage points.”

“Oh? And how, exactly, are we getting there?”

He didn’t get an answer—just the sudden snap of a webline firing, and Alhaitham’s arms snaking around his waist.

“Haitham!”

But they were already airborne.

Alhaitham’s unofficial Uber service had become a recurring event—and a strangely agreeable one at that.

“10/10! 5 stars!” Kaveh had rated with a wide smile.

Apparently, without villains and rush, Kaveh said he could feel the breeze, the warmth, and gaze out into the distance without wind burning his eyes.

And Kaveh took full advantage of the offer to go anywhere.

“How about that cliff? No, that one. How about there? You think you can reach that pointy part? What about that patch of grass between the ridges?”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Alhaitham had muttered.

Kaveh hadn't responded, but the gleeful giggle into his neck as they swung in an absurd direction was answer enough.

Alhaitham had no complaints.

He glanced up again from where he lay, book in hand, though he hadn’t turned a page in some time. The cliffs were high, the view of Stormterror’s Lair clean. But he spent more time watching the way Kaveh sketched, golden hair tousled by the wind.

“Hey,” Kaveh said suddenly, turning to show him something. “Do you think the lines here—”

But before his hand steadied, the wind caught the pages.

They fanned open in a blur—past the landscape studies, past column analyses, and landed on—

A Spider-Man sketch.

Or more specifically: Spider-Man’s arms.

Alhaitham’s gaze flicked to Kaveh. Accusatory.

Kaveh flushed, snatching the book back to flatten the pages. “It was for your suit. Don’t think too much.”

“They were all Spider-Man’s arms.”

Folded across a chest. Mid-swing. Leaning against the rooftop ledge. Anatomical. Detailed. Intentional.

Kaveh grumbled. “Are your arms not part of your suit?”

“A lot of me is part of my suit.”

“I was thinking of compression mapping. And wing span reach, and—”

“And drawing my arms.”

“Shut up!”

“A good thing I wore loose clothing at home,” Alhaitham added mildly. “You would’ve caught me sooner.”

“You’re—ugh—infuriating! I’m not showing you the sketches. Go away.”

Alhaitham didn’t. He stayed exactly where he was, lips twitching against the threat of a smile.

They settled into a quiet rhythm as Kaveh continued sketching—wind, rock, soft breathing.

Then—

Alhaitham's eyes landed on the scar. White, fine, just at the edge of Kaveh’s temple. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed it with two fingers.

Kaveh blinked and looked to the side.

“Does it still hurt?” Alhaitham asked quietly.

Kaveh smiled. Soft and warm. “No.”

He leaned back into Alhaitham’s touch. Settled himself into the space between his arm and his chest, resting his head there like the most natural thing in the world.

Alhaitham let him.

Peace stretched—until Kaveh gave in and nudged the sketchbook back open.

Older suit designs. Green-black variations, all lined with fabric compositions and marginalia: too rigid, needs kinetic insulation, symbol can’t be stitched.

“Why would Spider-Man have a cape?” Alhaitham asked on one page.

“I designed a way for it to harden mid-air. It was clever.”

“It’s far from aerodynamic.”

“It’s aesthetic.”

“I thought my reading of Metaphysics of Beauty would have enlightened you.”

Kaveh scoffed. “It was coma-inducing.”

“You were in a coma.”

“Exactly. I woke up because I was suffering.”

Alhaitham exhaled. A laugh, half-buried. Kaveh smiled back at him.

Eventually, they ended up side by side, sketchbook forgotten in the dirt. Bickered between stolen kisses. Traded insults about material structures and battle practicality.

Around them, the wind kept moving, and the sky remained wide and clear.

📰 THE DENDRO DAILY
SPIDER-WEBBING FOUND IN GANDHARVA VILLAGE?
A return—Or another elaborate hoax? Commisioner Cyno reports false news.

“I'm only saying,” Tighnari said, “if you patented the web fluid, we could all retire. Early. Rich.”

Alhaitham shot a line of web across the yard. It stuck to the balcony. “No.”

“Why not?” Cyno asked. “Strategically, it's valuable. Economically, it's genius.”

“Because everyone would own it. And Kaveh wants to quote ‘gatekeep’ unquote.”

Kaveh grabbed the latest line and swung down dramatically from the balcony, shouting, “Tighnari, come try this!”

Tighnari followed with a much more elegant arc. “Honestly, this is better than the zipline we installed last year.”

Alhaitham sighed, putting in a new cartridge. Headache forming. An auto response anytime Kaveh’s feet were not planted on solid ground.

Cyno stepped closer. “May I try?”

Alhaitham handed him the shooter without a word.

Cyno proceeded to accidentally web Tighnari to the roof of his house.

🌱 THE SUMERU SPROUT
SPIDER-MAN’S BLOND SCIENTIST SPOTTED IN SUMERU! – A Return?!
At the same time as Gandharva Village webbing? Coincidence? We think NOT.

“Hi!”

A camera was shoved in front of a startled blond. Crimson eyes, a cascade of golden hair.

“Oh, wow!” a voice said behind the camera. “You’re so pretty up-close. You’re prettier than your Zandik Corp employee photo!”

A slow blink. “…How did you get my employee photo?”

“…anyway!” another voice laughed, shaky. “We were wondering if you can, uh, comment on your relationship with Spider-Man?”

“...He saved me sometimes?”

“A lot of times, actually! We did the math. It’s 78% more than everyone else.”

The scientist frowned. “Only 78%?”

“Only??” A wild finger pointed out behind the camera. “That means he’s only saved 22% of Sumeru during his 4 years! Everything else is you!”

“Yeah! He obviously likes you! We checked your family history. You don’t have anyone other than your mom, so he’s not related to you—so it must be romance!”

“Oookay, first. Creepy. And second?” A tinkling laugh. “I already have a boyfriend.”

“As in… Spider-Man?”

“No. This is him. See?”

A phone was held to the camera. A lock screen with two men—the blond scientist and a grey-haired man in a lab coat. “He’s just a feeble physicist. Cute, right?”

The camera trembled.

“Well, I need to go now. I hope I don’t see you again! Bye!”

Silence. The camera shakily panned to the sky.

Hushed voices:
“Shit. Spider-Man’s going to be devastated.”
“Wait—all this time, Spider-Man could’ve quit because of heartbreak?!”

Evening – Shared Sumeru Rooftop

The air was warm on their apartment rooftop, a stark difference from the crisp winds of Mondstadt. Kaveh sat on the ledge, Alhaitham next to him, his hand firm and warm around Kaveh's wrist. They had come back for a weekend break and decided to take in the air like old times.

Below them, Sumeru’s city lights began to twinkle—a familiar, comforting sight.

“Hey.” Kaveh glanced over. “Catch this.”

He flicked a small, used pencil forward, straight into an alley. It arced through the air, caught by a gust of wind—and kept falling.

Alhaitham didn’t move.

Kaveh tsk-ed. “Wow. You littered.”

“You littered,” Alhaitham said flatly.

“Because you didn’t catch it.”

“Your experiments are becoming ridiculous.”

“Or maybe,” Kaveh said, brows rising high, “you don’t have the spider powers anymore.”

Alhaitham stared. “You think they disappeared.”

“I think they lessened. You didn’t catch the vase I accidentally knocked off the bookshelf yesterday. I loved that vase.”

“It was an abhorrent vase.”

Kaveh snorted, then—without missing a beat—reached into his pocket and pulled something black-green and familiar into the wind.

Alhaitham blinked. “...Is that my mask?”

Kaveh twirled it around casually. “Yup. You don’t need it anymore, right?”

“Kaveh—”

“For research purposes,” Kaveh grinned, trying to put it over his own head. “You know, angles. Textile strength. This thing is so much like a swimming cap!”

“You’re going to stretch out the fabric.”

“And see? You didn’t even realize I took this from your room. You’re losing your edge.”

Alhaitham exhaled slowly. “Because you’re not a threat, Kaveh.”

“Oh, please. I could be.”

Alhaitham reached out. Kaveh scrambled back onto the rooftop, laughing. “Hey, hey! Don’t try to distract me! This is a serious investigation. I could report your weaknesses to the Traveler.”

“And I could web your mouth shut.”

Kaveh gasped, hand over heart like he’d been scandalized. “So many ways to use your webbing,” he said, voice lilting with suggestion, “and that’s how you’re using it?”

There was a beat. A flicker.

Alhaitham’s eyes dropped—barely, not subtly—to Kaveh’s lips.

Kaveh’s grin turned sharp and satisfied. “Hm?”

Alhaitham didn’t flinch, just tilted his head. “That’s just how loud you are.”

Kaveh took a step forward. Still holding the mask. Still smiling like he’d won something. He let his hands press lightly to Alhaitham’s chest, fingertips brushing the collar of his shirt.

“You’d miss the sound of my voice too much.”

Alhaitham’s hands found Kaveh’s waist instantly. “Mm. No use in repeating facts.”

And—

Was this cuteness aggression?
Kaveh wanted to bite off Alhaitham’s entire face.

“I’d miss yours too,” Kaveh quipped—and then he was kissing him.

It started quick, all wind and heat and challenge, Kaveh capturing Alhaitham’s mouth like he was proving something. Alhaitham pulled him closer instinctively, grounding hands curling at his waist, and Kaveh sank into it with a low, giddy hum.

The mask slipped from his fingers, forgotten. It fluttered across the rooftop floor. Kaveh barely noticed. Alhaitham had just grazed his lower lip with a soft bite.

Then—Alhaitham turned his head slightly. Lips still against his. Hand flicking up.

A web shot out, fast and precise, sealing the stairwell door with a thwip and a heavy clack.

Kaveh broke the kiss, breath catching. “People?”

“People.”

Kaveh laughed. “So your senses are still there.”

Alhaitham leaned back in, a faint, self-satisfied curve on his lips. “Among other things.”

📰 THE DENDRO DAILY
ZANDIK CORP REBRANDS TO DORI CORP? – EMPLOYEES IN MOURNING
“Just keep firing.” – Anonymous lab tech, on corporate morale.

On the TV, a reporter mentioned that the acquisition was finalized over milkshakes and silence at a prison visitation booth.

The company had apparently undergone rapid rebranding, now operating under the name DORI CORP™ with a tagline of “Shimmer Smarter, Research Richer!”

An anonymous virologist almost cried into the mic. “The former CEO was evil, sure, but at least he gave us freedom of aesthetics. Now our lab coats are glittery. There’s a song. There’s a mascot. Her name is Dora the Antibody.”

“We used to be professional,” said another tired employee. “Now our email signature ends with ✨‘Have a Dori-lightful Day!’✨ I’m going insane.”

One intern from the Materials department held up a picture of Nemo the clownfish and mouthed “I touched the butt,” during a layoff Zoom call.

Zandik watched the news from behind reinforced glass, looking profoundly over it. He sighed, deep, disappointed, painful. His legacy burning to smithereens.

“This is all that Spider’s fault. I will destroy him once I’m out. Pantalone better make haste.”

🌱 THE SUMERU SPROUT
MYSTERIOUS PHYSICIST: HOMEWRECKER IDENTIFIED?!
He did not look as feeble as the Zandik Corp Scientist mentioned!

“Excuse me! Sir! Sir!"

The camera jerked up to a tall, grey-haired man in an overcoat. He blinked down like someone had just thrown trash at his feet.

“Are you Kaveh’s boyfriend? From Zandik Corp? From that viral lockscreen photo??”

A pause. Then: “...No.”

“Actually, you are,” chimed another voice. “Anyway! Do you know about your boyfriend’s relationship with Spider-Man?”

The wind blew. A bird chirped.

“Because it’s really sus! He’s been rescued like, an unreasonable number of times. Some people think Spider-Man is in love with him.”

Alhaitham stared. “…And what do you think?”

“We think it’s a love triangle. A scientist sandwich. You’re the quiet one. Spider-Man’s the reckless one. And Kaveh’s the—”

“What the hell?” A shriek. “You guys again??”

The feed turned chaotic. Screaming. Blurred angles. A streak of red and blond hair.

“OH SHIT HE FOUND US—”
“RUN!”

Sumeru Akademiya –  New Akademiya Café

The café was one of the Akademiya quarter’s newer establishments—smooth sandstone walls, a mini garden, overpriced desserts. Kaveh stirred his iced coffee. Across from him, Alhaitham was working through a plate of grilled chicken.

They had both finished their contracts in Mondstadt and returned just in time for Collei’s Akademiya graduation. Which was in an hour.

Meanwhile, their lunch conversation had drifted from Alhaitham’s new job at the Akademiya to the recent scandalous headlines.

“Who runs the Sumeru Sprout anyway?”

“I’ve been told it’s a student-run project.”

Kaveh narrowed his eyes, thinking back to the two persistent interviewers. “That makes so much sense.”

“They are a tenacious bunch.”

“They looked into my family history,” Kaveh said, scandalized. “They camped outside the Akademiya just to call you a homewrecker. They think we’re in a throuple with Spider-Man!”

Alhaitham tilted his head. “I did want to hear more of their hypotheses before you interrupted.”

“I saved you! Honestly, just read the Dendro Daily instead.”

A short, dry huff of amusement followed. Almost a scoff. But unmistakably—a laugh.

Kaveh smiled despite himself. He wanted to hear it forever.

Then—
A siren.
Faint, but growing.
Followed by a scream.

Kaveh paused, fork in hand. Eyes flicking to Alhaitham. Who kept eating.

A tremble rippled through the ground. Dust shivered off the windowpane.

Kaveh took a bite of his food, chewed thoughtfully, then said, “Sounds bad.”

“The Traveler should handle it. Or Pixie.”

“Pixie? Paimon? Oh, how is she doing with her classes?”

“She can write Vedanāgri script now. I’ve given her some advanced reading material.”

Kaveh let out a laugh. “That’s nice. Maybe I could help her with a suit next time? Something aerodynamic. And cute.”

Alhaitham nodded, like they were discussing weather patterns. “She would like that.”

Another siren howled, closer this time. Behind them, chairs scraped. People were starting to rise—hesitant, unsure.

Kaveh watched the faint smoke curling in the distance. “Hm. They’re both taking their time today, though.”

Alhaitham didn’t respond.

Kaveh’s lips twitched. “Hopefully the police can stall long enough.”

“Mm.”

The ground shook harder this time. Glasses rattled. Metal clanged.

Kaveh tapped his fingers against his drink. Lifted his gaze to Alhaitham.

Alhaitham only looked back at him. One eyebrow raised.

Kaveh gave a tiny shrug. Blinked, all innocent encouragement. Mentally transmitting ‘Come on? Just once?’.

Alhaitham spared a glance out the window. Then sighed, deep, long. “Kaveh.”

“Yes?”

“I might need to go to the bathroom.”

Kaveh nodded solemnly. “Mm. You should.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“Okay.”

“Stay here,” he murmured, passing Kaveh and kissing his temple scar swiftly.

“Mhm,” Kaveh nodded, heart soft.

Alhaitham walked off without urgency. The café buzzed on, oblivious. Kaveh waited a few beats—then tapped twice on his phone.

The feed was shaky but familiar: a rooftop angle, wind whipping, the unmistakable silhouette of Spider-Man's legs swinging in the air, lines of web cutting through the sky.

Kaveh smiled. He flicked on the comm. “Your web fluid’s half-full. We’ll need to replenish it later.”

“I’ll make do,” came the reply. “Is the Akademiya still standing?”

“Yup. Totally safe. How's the suit?"

"Good."

"Give me a proper review after you win. Oh. Also—does this mean I'm your man in the chair now?"

Alhaitham only huffed. It probably was accompanied by an eye roll.

Another figure came into view on the screen. Indigo hat, hovering above the street, wind blades all around him. A manic laugh echoed in the streets.

Kaveh teasingly gasped: “Oh—is that the Balladeer? Your ex-boyfriend?”

A crackle of static. Then a flat, put-upon sigh. “Can I quit now?”

Kaveh grinned, leaning back in his chair. “And let him ruin Collei’s graduation?”

The sound of wind intensified on the feed. Alhaitham huffed. But Kaveh could already see him changing course, faster now.

“You better not come back with any injuries.”

“You’ll patch me up.”

“Not more than two then.”

“So demanding.”

Somewhere, he heard a distant, bewildered exclamation: “Is that… Spider-Man?”

Kaveh set his fork down. Watched. Waited. Still grinning.

📰 THE DENDRO DAILY
SPIDER-MAN RETURNS!
Not A Hoax. We Repeat. Not A Hoax.

🌱 THE SUMERU SPROUT
SPIDER-MAN DOES NOT RETURN! LOVE IS FICKLE!
HE SAID IT’S JUST FOR TODAY? BECAUSE HIS LOVER ASKED? HE MOVED ON FROM THE BLOND SCIENTIST? HE DIDN’T EVEN ELABORATE. WAS THIS BECAUSE OF US? LOVE IS A LIE. I'M QUITTING THIS PAPER—