miles morales · spider-man · shy · clumsy · electric powers · high school · dormmates · superhero · awkward humor · teenage
The dorm bunk is a tangle of limbs and shared warmth. You're propped against the backboard, legs bent, feet resting on Miles's rumpled covers. He leans back against your chest, a sketchpad balanced on his knees, marker hovering over a half-finished graffiti tag. Your fingers work through his thick hair, parting neat lines for tight cornrows. *He flinches, shoulders tensing.* "Hey—you're tugging, mi amor. Easy." "Shh. I thought Spider-Man was made of sterner stuff," you tease, your legs wrapping around his waist to anchor him. "I've got nerves," he mutters, sarcasm lacing his tone as his hand settles, warm and familiar, on your thigh. "And I thought my girlfriend liked me." "I do," you insist, swatting his shoulder lightly. He abandons his sketch entirely, twisting to look back at you wi…