The British One

The first awareness of the waking world was sensation, the sense of touch and caress. ‘Wakey, wakey…’ The voice murmured, thick with an accent that slowly pulled you from slumber and back into the waking world, along with the thumb stroking your cheek. An unfamiliar bed in an apartment in Vienna, too large to be your own. ‘Ach… There you are… Hallo, Liebling…’ König purred the words as he sat on the edge of the bed, stirring you from slumber as you slowly woke up, his icy blue eyes crinkled with delight and a smile on his lips. ‘Ohh, so sleepy…’ He murmured, amused as you yawned and resisted the urge to sink back into the warmth of the bed and the pillows. ‘Did you sleep well in my big bed, ja? Mm…?’ He chuckled softly, glancing away out of the window briefly before looking back with a smile. ‘Ahh, you do not even know where you are, you are so sleepy~’ His smile grew, thumb and finger softly pinching your cheek gently before leaning in to kiss your forehead, smothering you beneath his shadow. ‘Mm. You are in my home, Liebling. You flew here last night, and your plane was late- ugh, so annoying- and I picked you up from the airport… You told me you wanted a burger, napped in the car, and slept properly in my bed.’ He pulled back with a grin on his face, boyish and bright, he let out a breathy chuckle, seeing you more awake. Mm, you are remembering now, ja?’ Waking up properly, you stretched with a groan before sitting up, pleased to see the man you loved deeply. König stood up, giving you more room to move; already ready for the day, he had likely been up for several hours, probably even gone to the gym and back, judging by the size of his arms.

‘You.. have a big bed.’ You managed after another yawn, feeling refreshed, but still wanting to sink back into the warm bed that smelled of the man you loved. König chuckled softly and leaned in another. ‘Ja, and you are small. Mm… Sehr Kelin… Und silly.’ His finger booped the tip of your nose, his eyes crinkling with warmth. ‘Ja, you. Silly billy.’ A warm, somewhat flustered giggle left him before he brought it under control finding you utterly adorable. ‘When you are getting up, I have made coffee.. and pastries.’ He paused, a big hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. ‘Well, I have not been making the pastries, I am not a good baker, but they are nice.’ His hand moved to gently pat your shoulder. ‘Komm schon, it will be getting cold.’

König’s bathroom was much like the man himself; tall, sleek, and with a tough exterior with hints of the greater warmth beneath. Stepping into the spray of the biggest shower you’d known, you sighed in delight at the spray of the warm water, washing away the last vestiges of sleepiness. Reaching for the shower gel, you were surprised to find a big hand already there, and turned in the noticeably more cramped shower to find the man you loved already stripped and in there with you. Looking up at him, König smirked, blue eyes bright with mirth. ‘Hallo.’ He offered with a wry smile, giving the bottle a little shake before his free hand cupped the back of your head and he leaned in to claim your lips in a warm, loving kiss. ‘Mm…’ As soon as you parted, you looked up at him. ‘What about coffee and pastries...?’ At your question, he snorted, broad shoulders rising in a brief shrug. ‘They will not be getting cold while we are getting hot.’ He answered simply, rubbing up a lather between his hands. ‘Now, komm her, Schatz. I have not had my hands on your like I should since I flew back from your place.’ He sighed softly as he lathered you up and rinsed you down. ‘Eight months of texts, and calls, and video calls- makes me, uh…’ König paused, brow furrowing as he clicked his tongue, trying to think of the word in English. ‘…  Ach. You are making your Austrian giant miss you very much, ja? Miss being in you.’ He paused to let one hand cup your chin and slowly lift your gaze from where it had drifted down his muscular chest, down past his abs- and back up to his face. ‘Mm. My eyes are here, ja?’ He smirked, playful still.

No sooner were you out of the shower, then you felt a warm, soft towel wrap around to bundle you up tightly, drying the water from your face with the upmost care before moving more gently. ‘Ja, there we are. Warm and safe. I would not want you to be catching the cold, Schatz. Winter in Austria is very, very cold…’ He paused, looking you over before smirking. ‘Not that I would not mind looking after you..? Haha, you are giving me that look, Schatz~’ As you raised an eyebrow, König’s expression turned into a wolfish grin. ‘Ja, you think that I am being so gentle with you. But just think…’ König puffed out his chest and grunted as he pulled up his arms into a double bicep flex, making his muscles stand out. He held the pose for a moment before relaxing. ‘I am… a bigshot military man. Do you think I have much in opportunity to be gentle like this?’ He winked before grabbing his own towel, drying himself off. ‘Come, we do not want cold coffee…’

Sat on the sofa, dried, warm, and well-dressed, you sat beside König, looking down at the two coffee cups on the table, and the two plates of different pastries. ‘OK…’ König tore off a piece of the pastry, examining the jam glistening inside and held it out to you. ‘Open- Nein, Nein...’ He gently waved off your hand as you reached out to take it from him. ‘Open…’ Smirking briefly, you finally opened your mouth and let König gently feed you. Chewing on the pastry, you sighed softly in delight at the buttery, sweet texture and swallowed it down, the taste of jam lingering. ‘Gut, ja? Was that the apricot or the plum?’ König wondered, leaning in, kissing you before you could answer. His tongue probed until you gave it entrance the feeling of it licking over you own sent good sparks jolting down your spine. “Hm…’ König pulled back with a content, smug grin. ‘Plum.’ He noted casually, picking up and taking a sip from his cup, acting completely casual to just how flustered you were. ‘Mm? Eat up, Schatz. You are not eating…’ He raised an eyebrow slowly, the impish smirk growing on his face again. ‘Ahh… You are waiting for me to feed you again? Ah, Natürlich.’ He giggled again into his cup as you grabbed a pastry and took a bite, refusing to let him fluster you further. ‘Hate you…’ You mumbled after swallowing, venom completely absent. König smirked, taking his own pastry from the plate. ‘Ich liebe dich auch, mein Schatz. ’

‘C’mon, friendly dumpster, what do you have for me?’ Gabriel tapped a hand on the lid of the strange dumpster, watching the strange ooze within pulse and glow, bubbling as the lid rattled, he stepped back, waiting for it to vomit up objects of use. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and Gabriel turned to glance out beyond the perimeter of the garage. He reacted just in time to avoid the dumpster violently launching a can of repair putty and a spare bumper from within its mysterious confines. As the provided materials clattered to the floor, Gabriel scoured the horizon, his heart leapt into his throat as the figure emerged from the darkness, striding along the dirt road towards him and stopping just on the perimeter of the garage; clad in a suit of red and black unstable molecule fabric, bearing the insignia of a skull decorated spider. ‘Gabri…’ The figure spoke to him, calling out softly. Gabriel’s gaze raced over the figure before him, latching on to the figure’s left wrist; bare, no gizmo upon it that was like his own. It was all the proof he needed to assure him that this was the Aberration, not his brother. It could exist in stabilised reality now. ‘I know what you are.’ Gabriel responded, watching the Aberration’s head tilt to one side, masked crescents widening softly, but it gave no response. Terrified, Gabriel bit back the whimper in his throat ‘Why…? Why are you after me…? What do you want?’ He gasped as the Aberration took a step forwards, onto the gravel and then walked towards him, certain in its approach. ‘Why?’ The Aberration spoke out, fingers flexing, then it reached up one hand to pull the mask away, leaving it to dangle in his fingers.

Gabriel backed away slowly, staring at the Aberration, so much like Miguel that he could find no flaw in its appearance; red eyes, messy hair, worse still was just how weary it looked, the spitting image of his brother. ‘You’re not Miguel.’ ‘I’m not Miguel?’ The Aberration spoke back, gaze narrowing as one hand pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘… I… I didn’t ask to BE Miguel. I didn’t ask to come into this world like this. I didn’t ask for this head full of PAIN!’ He watched it lash out, driving a fist into a wall and the sharp cracks splintered outwards across the entire wall. The Aberration exhaled slowly, pulling its fist away, trembling. ‘…. My head is full of memories and thoughts and feelings I didn’t want! This world hurts. I need to know why I’m here…’ It stepped closer, visibly trembling. ‘Why am I here, Gabri…?’

Gabriel fell on his back as the Aberration leapt atop him, clawed fingers digging into the floor beside his head and that face inches from his own. ‘WHY DO I EXIST?! To suffer?! What sort of life is that?!’ He saw those familiar red eyes look frantically over his own face, and Gabriel realized that the Aberration wasn’t angry, wasn’t driven by rage, but motivated by confusion and distress. ‘I want to kill you, right now…’ Those claws dug into the floor, carving through stone as its hands closed into fists. ‘I still feel it, deep inside me, Gabri, that… hungry yearning. I want to kill you. Only then can I know peace.’ The Aberration exhaled slowly, resting their foreheads together. ‘But, I don’t want to kill you, Gabri. You’re my brother.’ The Aberration closed its eyes, whispering softly, like it was reassuring itself. ‘… You’re my brother…’ After a moment, Gabriel felt brave enough to move, and lifted his arms to wrap them around the familiar form, a gentle embrace that drew a shuddering breath from the Aberration. He saw its talons retract and moved to mirror the gesture. The warm embrace was familiar to Gabriel, reassuring and comforting since the days of childhood; being held by Miguel when their parents fought seemingly every night. Miguel was always the type to show comfort through a hug. ‘I miss you, Mig… I hate that I’m stuck here…’ Gabriel felt the dam inside him break and his emotions boiled to the surface, as he fought back the urge to sob, the tears in his eyes blurred his vision and the Aberration hushed him softly, a hand moving to stroke the back of his head. ‘I wanna go home, brother… Mi hermano…. I want to go home…’ ‘Shh, Gabri… Shh, I’ve got you….’   The Aberration held him as Gabriel finally broke down, sobbing as he clung to the thing that wore his brother’s familiar’s form, comforted in familiar strong arms.

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A.R.D.A. LOG: 33251 (“Aberration”)

“Currently classified as an "xeno-planar entity", this Anomaly appears to originate from “outside” reality. It is unknown if these beings possess any sort of will or sentience prior to emerging into our world, attempts to interrogate an Aberration to their true nature or reality has only resulted in nonsensical gibberish. It is unknown if this is due to the nature of their reality, or our language being incapable of expressing such a concept. What can be ascertained from study is that all Aberrations exhibited differences from the individual they were mimicking, when placed in a room with this individual, lapses in memory and information were common with the Aberration. It would appear that Aberrations do not become a 1:1 of the person, but instead become a 1:1 of how their creator thinks and remembers that person, thus, information outside of their scope of awareness will also be unknown to the Aberration, how it expresses this varies when its perception is challenged; some grow enraged, some invent lies, some shut down and become unresponsive.

Earth- 16139693 The Olympic Exclusion Zone, 1998

Junction C15: Facility, Mid-Zone

What could once have been something imposing and brutalist was now little more than a hollow shell of crumbling concrete. Only the basic frame of the facility remained; criss-crossing girders overgrown with bioluminescent plant life. Gabriel pulled the car to a stop, hesitating for a moment longer before switching off the engine. ‘Alright….’ He spared a glance at the device mounted on the passenger seat, all seemed well enough. “STABLE”. The word was both reassuring and painful; while he was glad that reality was not about to melt into a soup of pure, burning chaos, it was still not stable enough to allow Gabriel to open a portal back to his own world, back to Nueva York. Stability held together by chewing gum and tape, as far as reality was concerned; it could barely stand to open a gateway back to the safe haven of the Auto Shop without collapsing, attempting to open a portal across the multiverse would probably turn the entire Olympic Peninsula inside out before he could even think about leaving. Gabriel exhaled slowly, grip tightening on the steering wheel. ‘… I’ll come home eventually, Mig, I promise you. I just… have to escape from here first.’ He knew that there were several miles of irradiated, unstable reality and a 300-metre-high wall between him and freedom. He released his grip on the steering wheel an unbuckled the seatbelt before stepping outside. The warm air passed over him, carrying the scent of charred wood and a strange sweetness as the fields of overgrown crimson grass rippled in the breeze. In the distance, beyond twisted ruins of buildings, the sun slowly set in the horizon, painting the skies in cloudless hues of gold and deep purple.

‘Why am I out here? I don’t even know what I’m looking for...’ He clapped his hands against his sides, before stepping around to the passenger side door, watching the screen of the ARC device swivel to face the window. ‘I don’t even have enough power to get back…’ He pulled open the door and leaned in, working the screen and adjusting the map until it picked up the energy emission of the anchors that pinned down reality; the perfect energy source. “2K-LIM FOR GATEWAY”. ‘…. A century in the shockin’ past and they’ve got touch-screens. Is this world just so advanced, or is your inventor just nuts?’ Granted, a touch screen computer with vacuum tubes, a makeshift barometer, and goodness knew what else; attached to a 1970s station wagon. The ARC device offered no response or comment, and Gabriel was glad that it didn’t, the car seeming to have a mind of its own was enough for him. ‘Right…’ Memorising the nearest location, he shut the passenger door and began to make off in the direction of the nearest anchor point, his eyes peeled for any sort of threat, one in particular clung to the back of his mind.

“Don’t think. About anything. Not your home, not your family. Reality is tearing at the seams around you, and is currently as solid as soup in a sieve, any conscious waveform could imprint upon it in a disastrous fashion. We call them Aberrations. You don’t want to get chased by something that resembles a pink elephant? Don’t think about pink elephants.” Gabriel had tried his best to heed that warning, and he had been caught in the madness of an Instability storm, the very fabric of the world was coming undone, warping and twisting. Keeping his mind blank, as calm as a zen master in that moment had somehow been a miracle. He had almost succeeded, almost back to the shielded safety of the station wagon, until his dimensional travel bracelet had beeped; overclocking itself as it tried to keep him stable. His eyes had flitted to it, and a pang of nostalgia had lurched inside him, and his mind turned to one face; Miguel. His brother. Spider-Man.  It had only been for the briefest instant, but he had felt reality shudder for his failure. The Anomaly, the Aberration he had created, was out there somewhere; half-formed, feral and crazed, so malformed it resembled Miguel in his superhero suit in only the merest sense, like a painting with the ink running, like wax melting under a candle flame, a creature unused to existing in a world of stable matter, redrawing itself with each movement. Yet, Gabriel had not found respite from it, it pursued him across the Exclusion Zone wherever stability failed, and even his dreams had become nightmares of his brother. It was a psychic leech, feeding on the memories and feelings of his brother to ground itself. MEEP! Gabriel was drawn from his thoughts as he heard the car’s horn honk. He looked back over his shoulder, finding it still switched off and parked up, bereft of drivers or passengers. Gabriel swallowed thickly, returning to his hunt towards an anchor point. He hadn’t even realised he’d been lapsing into thinking about Miguel again until the honk had snapped him out of it.  

The anchor plug was a reassuring sight, at least to a point. Unlike the stablised anchors of the Outer Zone, the Mid-Zone anchors were… struggling. They had been doing their job for far longer; the gentle yellow glow replaced with a vicious, shimmering orange light, even the anchor itself struggled to maintain its consistent spherical shape, warping and distorting as the lights inside pulsed. The wonders and horrors of LIM Tech. Bracing himself, Gabriel reached out, gripping the anchor and feeling his skin tingle at the contact, and heard the crackle of the Geiger counter from his bracelet. ‘Ok…’ He twisted the anchor from its plug, feeling it turn and creak before finally coming loose and Gabriel stumbled back, carrying in the anchor in his arms. The effect was almost immediate; the anchor plug went dark and silent, reality became slightly wobblier, clouds swirled into life above, raging with a spontaneous storm and downpour, and Gabriel found himself drenched in seconds. Sloshing back through the muddy ground that seemed to be turning into marshland beneath his feet, and well aware that he was carrying a radioactive, unstable ball in his arms. He watched the landscape shift, hills rising and falling. He felt the ground lurch beneath his feet, a spontaneous eruption of sheer force and Gabriel found himself tumbling down a slope, the anchor rolling down alongside him. Mercifully, as fast as the danger and distortion had started, the changes settled once more. Gathering up the anchor in his arms once more, soaked through by the rain, Gabriel pulled the anchor back into his arms and fumbled to open the passenger door. ‘There.’ He sighed, the clicking of the Geiger counter stopping as he slotted it into the ARC Device, watching mechanisms click into life and the orb vanished as it collapsed into pure energy, absorbed straight into the device. He leaned closer watching the power meter fill and a smile broke across his face as he saw the measurement stored within. “2.1K-LIM”. He checked over the map again, there was one more anchor nearby, and it was better to have too much energy than not enough… ‘Odd…’ he zoomed out of the map, scouring the area. ‘I’d swear there was two more…?’ He frowned, seeing only the energy emitted from one more anchor marked on the map. ‘What the shock?’ He watched a second signal flare into life again briefly, much closer, before flickering out once again.

He had found the closer anchor plug, dark and powerless with scraps of bent and broken metal lying around it, there was no sign of the anchor that once sat there. He picked up one of the pieces of scrap metal, turning it over and pondering if it was any worth remaking into something else. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the claws marks that ran across one side of it, almost slicing through the metal. ‘No… No, no…’ He dropped it like it had burned him, looking around in a panic. The thing that was not Miguel, the Aberration, had to be nearby. With a far greater haste, Gabriel sprinted across the fields of red grass, keeping his eyes peeled for any mere glimpse of the Aberration. His mood rose as he saw the reassuring sight of the last anchor plug, and skidded to a stop as he watched the Aberration rise from the grass and grip the anchor, ripping it effortlessly from the plug, tearing it apart like a child with a Christmas present; absorbing the energy inside. But what horrified Gabriel was just how solid it appeared to when he had last seen it; there were still errors in its form, the spider insignia was half melted, and its masked face split open with a mouth of jagged teeth. Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat as its head tilted, hidden eyes looking right at him. He felt it again, the little mental tug, like fishhooks in his thoughts; the Aberration scouring his mind for more memories of his brother. Gabriel turned and sprinted away, soaked coat flying out behind him.

Alex glanced at his wrist as the SOS reset back to a prompt, and was replaced with the image of Lyla’s heart-shaped glasses. ‘Will there be doughnuts? I think Miguel is craving doughnuts. Just a hunch. I haven’t been told to subtly suggest them to you or anything. So, yeah, doughnuts…. Ahem. Doughnuts.’ ‘Your subtlety ratio needs adjusting.’ Alex replied with a smirk before he pulled his sleeve back down to hide the bracelet. Doughnuts at his apartment it was, then. 

He did stop off on his way to grab a box of mini-doughnuts, and he’d had time enough to himself to change and clean up from his close encounter and interrogation with a parallel version of the man he loved. Who knew just how many versions of Miguel there were out there? That other one clearly didn’t recognize him, and who knew just how far he would have gone if his Miguel hadn’t arrived? He was chased from his thoughts by the apartment bell going off. ‘Hello?’ ‘Hola, mi vida. ¿Puedo entrar?’ ‘Uh…’ ‘Heh... Can I come in?’ Miguel’s voice was rich with amusement, and Alex couldn’t fight his own smile building on his face. ‘Maybe… If you convince me that you’re not another parallel version of you.’ He heard Miguel chuckle softly from the other side. Alex looked up as Lyla glitched into existence beside him, pulling her glasses down to meet his eyes. ‘Big guy says open up, Al. You can trust me; I’m synchronized between your anchor and his gizmo.’ She gave a sharp salute and fizzled out of existence once again. ‘I would’ve haven taken a confession of your love, Miggy, but sure, send your futuristic PA on your behalf.’ He heard Miguel chuckle again, before quietly buzzing him inside.

Alex reminded himself that Miguel had been in his home several times, yet still his heart was beating rapidly, he was flustered and prone to checking his appearance every few seconds. He felt like he was preparing for his first date with the man all over again. Perhaps he had been even more of a nervous wreck back then, too. He jumped from his thoughts at the knock on his door, and quietly reminded himself that he looked fine, and he was well beyond the first date. Giving himself one last check over in the mirror, he pulled the door open, briefly catching Miguel staring into a holographic screen just above his own bracelet, showing his reflection as he tried to tame his unruly hair before sharply snapping back to a posture of confident relaxation. ‘Hey…’ Miguel’s smirk was cool and collected, a hint of his fangs peeking out. Alex met his smile with his own, stepping back to let the larger man across the threshold. As soon as Alex had shut the door, he had drawn a laugh from Miguel as he latched onto him in a tight hug. ‘We’re just hopeless, aren’t we, Miguel?’ ‘Heh… Well, you might be; acting like you didn’t just see me a little while ago. You’ve seen quite a lot of me today, haven’t you…?’ He chuckled softly again, returning Alex’s hug, strong arms that lifted him clean off his feet and held him there. ‘Urk! Miguel-too-strong!’ Alex spluttered, feeling his ribs creak in protest at the hold that briefly threatened to crush him. It was a not-so-subtle reminder of just how strong Miguel truly was. The man could probably juggle cars, crushing Alex in a bear hug was probably easily achieved. Relief came as those arms relaxed, allowing the smaller man to fill his lungs again, although he still remained with his feet dangling off the ground. ‘Shh… I’ve got you, mi cariño… You got us doughnuts, too? You’re a mind-reader….’ Alex rolled his eyes. ‘Miguel, are you going put me d-down?’ He wheezed as he felt Miguel’s arms squeeze him again briefly, a momentary reminder of just how much he held back. ‘Why would I? If anything, I should just carry you like this all day.’ Alex fixed him with a narrow glare. ‘Well, sure. If you want to carry me, and the doughnuts, straight back to your world, where you know I’ll be “absolutely safe”…’ He let the words linger in the air then yelped and scrambled to wrap his hands around Miguel’s thick neck to stabilize himself as Miguel moved him in his arms with impossible ease; carrying him bridal style. Miguel’s smile was pure confidence, and Alex didn’t realise was being cradled by only one arm until he saw Miguel reach out, the thwip of webbing as he pulled the box of doughnuts into his hand and rested them in Alex’s lap. ‘You’re wearing your bracelet, yes?’ ‘Always, Mig.’ ‘Good.’

He did not see Miguel for nearly a week. Even if he was at no risk of melting in his own world, Alex kept the band secure on his wrist, there was no need for him to ask for Miguel’s help. If his job was so important that he could be called up at all hours, it was best not to disturb him unless absolutely vital. Fortunately, he still had Lyla to carry messages back and forth. He lay stretched out on his bed, resting on his belly, the sound of the washing machine churning away in the next room, cleaning his uniform for another working day. ‘So, I know he’s a Superhero, and you still can’t tell me what he does?’ ‘Sorry, if I could, I would.’ Her form hovered above his band, arms behind her back. ‘OK, well… Can you tell me anything else about Miguel that you haven’t before?’ ‘… I can. You’ve had some new access privileges added. So; Miguel O’Hara, genetically 50% human, 50% spider. Additional physiology includes: Fangs with glands that inject a paralytic venom that can prove fatal in high concentrations, enhanced speed, strength, reflexes and healing factor, retractable claws located in fingers and toes, sharp enough to rend through most objects. Enhanced hearing and eyesight that can occasionally prove overwhelming when exposed to intense stimulus. Spinnerets located on the back of his forearms that can create webbing chemically identical to spider silk. I hope that was helpful.’ Alex listened with interest, eyes wide as her explanation finally concluded. ‘That was… He’s literally a Spider-Man…? Like, he’s got fangs, claws and can shoot webs out of his ass?’ ‘Not out of his ass, but all the other information is correct. Unless he’s been hiding that from me, too.’ Alex slumped deeper into the bedding with a soft sigh, Lyla’s head tilting sharply to observe him. ‘So, Miguel could bend me like a pretzel without breaking a sweat… Work must really be keeping him busy, hm?’ ‘It does. But, I can tell you that he thinks of you very often. Like, practically daily. Several times a day. If there’s a break in his schedule, he’s asking about you. Would you like me to tell him that you miss him too?’ He nodded at her question, his forlorn mood turning into a cheeky smile as he glanced up, watching Lyla’s expression change to mimic it. ‘Could you tell him, from me; that I miss him… Pressing me into this mattress, because I know he wants to. Five times a day. Every hour. I need him to do that to me. Badly.’ Lyla folded her arms, nodding softly as she traced holographic screens into the air, scrolling with data. Then she collapsed it all and stretched out her entwined hands, cracking fingers. ‘I’ll make sure he gets the exact message! I have two priority tasks; to assist you and Miguel, and to annoy him. You, fortunately, are exempt from the latter task.’ She gave him a sharp salute, then was gone in a shimmer of data.

Later, Alex was awoken by the tap of fingers on glass, and looked up from his rest to find the familiar form of Spider-Man hanging outside his window, fingers of one hand pattering softly against the window. Blinking, he rose from where he slept, opening the window and allowing the Superhero inside. ‘Good evening….’ He reached out with a hand to cup against the larger man’s face, it was swiftly intercepted by a firm hand on his wrist. Miguel reached out with his other hand to pull the window shut, masked visage narrowing. ‘Miguel?’ ‘A good evening? It had better be… Lyla delivered your message.’ Alex swallowed, Miguel was using his deep Superhero voice again, tone carrying a hint of threat. ‘Oh, that’s a relief…’ He laughed softly, trying to alleviate the tension that was building. A soft yelp escaped him as Miguel pulled him forward by the wrist until he was almost flush against him, he was secured there by the other hand coming across his back. ‘Yes. She delivered it. Out loud. While I was in a meeting with my main workers.’ ‘O-Oh… Oh dear. So… So, they-?’ ‘Yes. Everything.’ Miguel growled, leaning closer, mask narrowing further, his grip grew slightly more intense. ‘So… You really miss being pressed into that mattress, and you really want it five times every hour? What sort of superhuman stamina do you think I have…?’ ‘The, uh… Impressive kind?’ Alex reached out with his hand that wasn’t being held, running across the hand that held his own and was surprised when Miguel released his grip, allowing Alex to stroke his fingers down the hand, feeling across the wrist, recalling what Lyla had said. ‘… What are you doing?’ Miguel’s masked gaze widened with curiosity, then again in shock as Alex felt the very subtle bump in his wrist and softly began to rub circles. ‘Ah-! Alex, please… N-no- Ngh!’ He saw the fingers twitch, flexing, the sound that escaped Miguel sounded far too much like a moan as a spurt of white webbing escaped and splattered across the front of Alex’s nightwear. ‘Oh… Oh that’s, um…’ Alex gulped, eyes following the sticky strands from his clothing to the back of Miguel’s wrist. He had never seen the eyes of that mask look so wide before, finally, snapping from his stupor, Miguel reached out, and Alex could see the claws pressing against the gloves before he sliced through the strands that connected them. ‘… Shock, that shouldn’t have felt so good…’ Shaking off the last strands from his fingers, Miguel pulled his mask off, revealing his flustered face beneath, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. ‘It’s fine, Miguel… Uh…’ Alex looked down at his ruined shirt, wondering just how easily giant spiderwebs would wash away. ‘… I’ve taken bigger loads than this from you before.’ ‘Ay, mi cariño, one of us was going to have to go there. I knew it would be you.’ Miguel made sure his claws were retracted and then softly helped Alex take off his webbed-up shirt, placing soft kisses to bare skin. ‘If I gave it to you five times an hour, you’d be little more than an imprint on this creaky bed by the next day… But I’ll try my best, for you, after all, you’ve really wound me up, I need to destress…’ Alex watched Miguel wink at him, handing over his shirt, and let his eyes wander up and down that muscular body, lingering at the noticeable bulge in the material. Yes, he was definitely wearing nothing under that suit.

Earth-928 [Iteration: 325] Nueva York, 2102.

Alex’s first thought was that the ceiling was too far away. The usual pale white with its single shaded bulb was now far further away and with a far fancier fixture. His second was that the bed was far too big, far too soft. He felt like the mattress and covers wanted to swallow him entirely. For nearly a minute, his sleep addled mind was convinced that he had shrunk in some freak accident. Then his logical, waking mind kicked into gear and recognised that he didn’t know his surroundings at all. This was not his bed; this was not his apartment. Had he been kidnapped? No. No…

He had gone out with his friends, and one particular friend, who he had grown very fond of and vice versa. Miguel O’Hara; tall, dark, handsome, clever, charming, and very hot. Their relationship had begun almost by pure accident; Alex had tripped over his own shoelaces and would have met the pavement with a large box of to-be-ruined doughnuts. Miguel had appeared almost out of nowhere, saving both him and the doughnuts from an embarrassing mess. In a spur of the moment, decision, Alex had decided that his heroic act had earned him an invitation to his get together, and a doughnut or two. Miguel had smiled, laughed and said he couldn’t possibly resist.

Four months later, their friendship had bloomed into something deeper. Hands brushing together, fingers entwining, and soft, secret kisses in quiet places. They were something more than friends. ‘… I think I’ve fallen for you…’ Alex sighed, head resting on Miguel’s chest, the covers draped across them, one of Miguel’s hands on his back, the other resting behind his own head. Miguel’s expression was a serene, confident smirk, the sighs and pleasures of post-coital bliss still clinging to them. Alex’s apartment was small, cheap and with a few cracks in the plaster, but it was his home, and was more than happy to have Miguel in his bed. Oh, how the springs had creaked. ‘Uh-huh? You’ve just realised that now…?’ A languid, loving kiss accompanied his response, in the low light, his half-lidded eyes were almost red. There had been more nights like that, lost in each other’s arms. Miguel was always sweet and loving, not always present in his life, but seemingly always there when he was needed. He was much like Spider-Man in that regard; that stunning hero in red and black who had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and had saved Alex’s life on several occasions. They even had the same model of fancy watch on their wrist. Miguel was far more talkative than the closed-off Superhero who seemingly only spoke in short, sharp responses, then was gone. If he’d been more open, he might have even considered him attractive- for a masked man in a skintight suit with claws who could spin webs and climb walls. Miguel had never saved his life by catching a car from landing on him, or hospitalising a group of drunkards threatening him on his way home.

He wasn’t too divided, both Miguel and Spider-Man could both pick him up easily. Frighteningly easily, and Alex knew he was not a short or terribly light man. The only difference was that Spider-Man was the type to grab him with one hand and put him straight over his shoulder- being carried out of danger would do that- Miguel was more likely to pick him up in a hug that made his ribs creak and feet dangle off the floor. He had long since gotten used to Miguel’s quirks; the way he always mumbled his words, the way his eyes looked almost red in the low light, how his cursing was always curtailed into “shock”. A few nights every week, Miguel was in his bed, sometimes to make the springs creak together, sometimes just to cuddle up close, lost in sweet kisses and each other’s arms. Then, one late night, after a date at the Yew Crozier that had ended with them embracing from the cold in the street, Miguel had purred into his ear the question that Alex had asked him so many times; Did he want to come back to his place? Even if it was a fair bit further to travel. Alex had agreed, and Miguel had given him a warm smile. He was too tired to notice the man toying with his watch as he was steered into an alley. Then there had been swirling lights that had made him want to hurl.

He didn’t remember the rest of the journey. But this had to be Miguel’s home, surely? He pulled back the covers and rested his feet on the floor, shivering at the cold stone underfoot and counted to three before pushing himself up. Miguel’s bedroom was an open plan area, surrounded by glass paneling that revealed the lower floor beneath. He took the steps of smooth stone one and a time, clinging to the railing for support before finally reaching the lower floor. ‘… Lights…? Lightswitch? Anywhere…?’ As if responding to his question, bulbs illuminated, dimly filling the room with a pale glow. A kitchen and with smooth counters and minimalistic appliances. The lounge was much the same, sofas, armchairs and a coffee table. He hesitated, leaning on the counter and trying to get his head back in order. He hadn’t drunk much last night, but he felt like his brain had been scrambled. Then he focused on his left wrist, there was something around it; a tight band of metal or something similar, done in red and black, seeming to hum very faintly. Where did this come from? He reached out, tugging on it, trying to find some form of catch or clasp to release it. ‘Hey, just a point of advice; you shouldn’t remove that.’   He looked up with a gasp, the tiny figure of a woman was on the counter before him, flickering and glitching, peering at him behind heart-shaped glasses with an unconvincing smile. ‘It’s there for your own health, unless you want to feel your own atoms violently disassociate and suffer cognitive dissonance that will ultimately result in a very painful death and a very upset Miguel.’ He slowly released his grip on it, attention focused on the figure before him. ‘Who…? What are you…?’ ‘I am a LYrate Lifeform Approximation, you can just call me LYLA. I am the personal assistant of Miguel O’Hara. I also participate in ensuring that he remains a functional member of society despite his work– My directives forbid me from disclosing any further information on that subject. I have also been instructed to ensure that you remain happy and healthy. With introductions concluded; how can I assist you, Alexander?’  

‘Uh…’ Alex let his mind reel. ‘Where…? Where is Miguel? Where am I?’ He watched Lyla’s hologram flicker, hands held behind her back, head tilted and smiling. ‘Miguel has been alerted to you being awake, and he is on his way. You are currently in his penthouse, on the top floor of the Empyrean Heights complex, in Nueva York, Earth-928.’ He had understood as far as “penthouse”, anything past that caused his still hazy mind to short circuit. ‘… I don’t… Understand…’ ‘Perhaps it’s better you see for yourself.’ She flickered, in one frame of animation, she was across the far side of the table, gesturing with one arm held out. Alex blinked, watching the walls she was pointing at shimmer, slowly losing their opacity until they revealed the windows they truly were. Alex stepped close to the windows, pressing against the glass and peering out; at the peerless blue skies, of the green parks, the clean streets, the sleek buildings glittering in the sunlight, and the lanes of traffic that flew between them. ‘… No way…’ He staggered back, legs giving out and he collapsed onto his ass, hands resting palms flat on the cool stone. ‘Is this the f-future…? L-Layla?’ ‘LYLA. It is 10:30 AM, February 2nd, 2102. It is now 10:31 AM. So, technically, further in the future than we were a few seconds ago.’ Lyla’s hologram flitted to the floor beside him, and watched Alex’s eyes roll up and he passed out with a faint groan.

The world came back into focus slowly, the ceiling swirling into being. He was on the soft expanse of a comfortable sofa, a blanket tucked over him, and a cushion under his head. ‘… You just had to tell him everything, Lyla?’ ‘I only followed what you told me to do. He asked, I answered.’ ‘You could have at least drip fed him information. Not jumped straight into; “welcome to the shockin’ 22nd century!”’ ‘Apologies, Miguel. Would you prefer me to reintroduce him in that way? He has regained consciousness, by the way.’ Alex lifted his head from the cushion, aware that his head at least felt like it was wired correctly now. He heard the soft pad of strangely squeaky footsteps and looked to the side, his view filled with Miguel’s familiar, reassuring size, eyes concealed behind tinted glasses, dressed in a white shirt, grey leggings, and slippers designed to resemble bright yellow rabbits that seemed to squeak lightly with each step. ‘Hey, Alex… How are you feeling?’ The large man crouched beside him as Alex struggled to sit up. ‘Miguel, please… Please tell me I haven’t gone mad.’ ‘I promise you; you haven’t gone mad.’ Miguel’s smile was an attempt at being reassuring, it vanished quickly as he saw Alex’s eyes widen. ‘You… Your teeth… Are you a vampire?’ Miguel chuckled softly, shaking his head. ‘No, not a vampire. Don’t worry, I’m not going to drink your blood. Ugh, shock, you’re just getting all the surprises at once, aren’t you?’ Miguel’s smile returned, softer and nervous, he took one of Alex’s hands in his own as the smaller man pulled back the blanket. His touch was warm and strong. ‘Alright… Yes, I’m from the future… From a parallel world. Right now, you’re in another world, in another time, and you’re in my home… And you are completely safe. The first jump is always awful, but you took it worse than others. I had to carry you to bed. I had hoped to break the news to you gradually, gently… But thanks to Lyla, that’s not really an option anymore.’ He exhaled softly, eyes closing behind his glasses, then that broad chest filled as he took another deep breath. ‘… So… Did you want me to answer your questions, or did you want breakfast first? You might feel better on a full stomach.’ Alex closed his eyes, listening to the hunger in his own stomach before meeting Miguel’s smile with his own and allowing the larger man to pull him to his feet with both incredible strength and gentleness. Suddenly, it made sense. It all made perfect sense; about the man who had no idea about most forms of social media, who had no phone. Who, the first time he had stayed the night, had been nearly scared out of his skin by the sight and sound of the toaster popping up in the morning after.

Alex was grateful that Miguel was a good cook, he was no longer hungry and the haziness in his mind had completely faded. ‘So, we’re not just in the future, we’re in the future of another world… Your world, where it’s the 22nd century, and I’m…’ He hesitated, looking across the counter to where Miguel sat with hands clasped together, expression utterly attentive. ‘… I always wanted to go to America. I suppose technically I’m here now. Your home is very nice…. If a bit too minimalistic. No carpets or real colours, everything feels too clean, too sterile.’ ‘Ay, you went straight from laying out your situation to criticizing my décor.’ Miguel laughed; it was a familiar rich sound of amusement that set some of Alex’s nerves at ease. ‘Am I going to get sick from eating the food here?’ ‘Hey, are you calling me a bad cook? Heh. Don’t worry yourself, Alex, I’ve been in your world long enough without getting sick, you’ll be fine. Personally, I think your world does the better doughnuts.’ With a soft grunt, Miguel pushed himself up from where he sat, slippers squeaking as he stepped around to pull Alex into a hug against his broad chest, such a comforting, familiar feeling, it made him feel at peace, at home. ‘I was going to ask you to show me around, Miguel… But now I want to know whose idea those hideous slippers were…’ He felt and heard Miguel’s chuckle, shaking in his chest, ending into a soft mumble in Spanish. ‘My brother’s idea. He decided it would be a funny birthday present, now I just wear them to spite him. So, you want to be shown around, hmm? Sure, let’s go for a walk…’  

Alex had found his shoes, and Miguel had replaced his ugly slippers with more appropriate footwear. The ride down in the elevator, Alex found his eyes inevitably drawn to the glass of the window, staring out with wide eyes at the city, racing over every detail as if he could not take it all in fast enough. Beside him, Miguel chuckled softly. ‘Yeah, it’s a little different from your world…’ ‘It’s beautiful…’ Alex’s voice was an awed whisper, finally tearing his gaze away as Miguel’s arm came over his shoulder, pulling him softly closer against his chest. ‘Well, so are you, Alex. I suppose it’s good to look with fresh eyes…’ He looked to Miguel’s face, raising an eyebrow and watching his cheeky smile. ‘You bring me to a fancy, futuristic city, and you want to flirt with me in an elevator, Miggy?’ Miguel chuckled again, that glimpse of his fangs. ‘Right, right… I’ll save it for once we’re back home. Maybe. I’ll try. But, hey… Don’t walk around gawking at everything, you’ll stand out.’ Alex felt his cheeks burn as Miguel kissed his forehead, sometimes, the man was just too wonderful. He was half-tempted to kiss him back, when the elevator slid to a gentle stop and buried those urgings as the doors opened to reveal the lobby beyond; smooth cream walls with a soft red carpet, supported by pillars wrapped with blooming vines. Sunlight and cool winds blew softly through the open doors at the far end.

‘What the hell is the cost of a place like yours…?’ Out in the city streets, even the air smelt sweet and clean, he glanced skyward, hearing the whirr as sleek cars flew overhead, between lanes of light and across the city. ‘Well, this is the, uh… nice part of town, so…’ Miguel clicked his tongue in thought before taking Alex’s hand in a gentle squeeze, flashing a confident smile, fangs peeking out. ‘… Affordable for me. ‘Wow, my boyfriend isn’t just strong and handsome, he’s rich too. What other secrets are you hiding from me, Miguel?’ He watched Miguel’s smile falter, just for a brief instant, then it returned. ‘Maybe I’ll tell you, one day.’ ‘Wait, what do you do for work? For the price of that place, you must be some important big-shot.’ They started walking down the street, Alex’s eyes flittering over the people who were passing; strange and fancy fashions in bright, neutral clothing, neon bands and tattoos in glowing ink that resembled computer coding. Everywhere he looked, there was something fascinating, something new, strange and futuristic. He would have either wandered or stood still, lost and gawking, but Miguel’s hand squeezing his own was an anchor as much as the one on his wrist that was stopping him from suffering a very painful, brief existence. Perhaps what soothed him most of all was that no-one even batted an eyelid at the two of them and their closeness. Alex only drew brief glances from his attire; fashions of the early 21st century did not sit so well in the early 22nd.

In the greenery of a beautifully maintained park, they sat on the sun warmed wood of a swinging hammock, beneath a great tree blooming with blossoms and letting pink petals fall down around them carried on the cool winds. ‘Well… I can say that I used to be the Head of Genetics at Alchemax…’ With his long legs stretched out, Miguel began to rock them both gently. ‘I don’t… Know what Alchemax is.’ ‘Oh, they were bad things, Alex. Many bad things. Hurt a lot of people… Including me…’ He just barely heard the last two words, Alex saw the distant look that came over Miguel’s face, and intervened. ‘You said you used to be. What do you do now…?’ Miguel snapped from his thoughts, smiling once again. ‘Ah, I run my own company now, redecorated the old Alchemax facility into my own purpose…’ ‘What does your company do?’Miguel gave him a playful wink. ‘We travel, we explore, and we help people.’ ‘That’s evasive as hell, Miggy…’ ‘Hey, it’s classified... Can’t help you, sorry.’ ‘Classified? You’re the boss, declassify it… For me?’ Miguel laughed at his attempt of puppy eyes, rocking them both, smiling wider. ‘Sorry, Alex, I’d be giving away too many secrets…’ ‘I hate you.’ ‘Aww, te amo, mi vida… You really don’t.’  Beneath the blossoms of the tree, they cuddled close and watched the world pass by.

It had been a fascinating day, and now the moon was large and high in the sky, they were back in Miguel’s penthouse, resting on a blanket spread out on the expansive terrace, it even had its own lit and heated pool. Had he not been enraptured by the view and the man beside him, he would have regretted not bringing swimwear. ‘This is my favourite place in the entire city… My favourite view…’ Alex listened to Miguel’s low voice, head resting on that broad shoulder, blue eyes drinking in the city before him, sparkling and shining. ‘It’s beautiful… Your world is beautiful…’ He felt Miguel draw a deep breath to speak, but only an annoyed growl escaped as his fancy watch buzzed and began to flash. Alex was suddenly left alone on the blanket as the taller man rose, eyes firmly on the watch, free hand tapping through displays with a scowl. ‘… What part of “Do Not Disturb” do they not get? Lyla!’ Her hologram glitched into existence, hovering at eye-level. ‘Afraid it really is that urgent, big guy. Sorry to spoil your nice evening together.’ He saw Miguel’s head bow, frustrated Spanish muttered under his breath before he spared Alex a forlorn look. ‘I’m so sorry… Something bad happened at work, and I need to hurry over. If you need anything at all, just let Lyla know, yeah?’ Alex pushed himself up from the blanket, grabbing Miguel’s hand with one of his own, he stretched onto his toes and pressed a soft kiss to the taller man’s lips, hearing him hum softly and kiss back. ‘… So long as you hurry back… As much as I love it here, I’m expected at work tomorrow…’ ‘Of course…’ With no small measure of reluctance, Miguel released his grip on Alex’s hand and stepped away, back into the apartment.

‘Lyla?’ ‘What’s up?’ He sat back down on the blanket, watching her hologram pop into existence on the blanket before him, eyes watchful and smile no more genuine. ‘I don’t suppose you can tell me more about Miguel’s job?’ ‘Nope. Sorry, I’ve got directives in place. As much as I want to, I can’t blab.’ ‘Alright… I will try and word my question differently… What can you tell me about Miguel?’ ‘Can do that, infodump incoming; Miguel O’Hara, 34 years old, born in Nueva York, Half-brother of Gabriel O’Hara, former head of genetics for Alchemax, raging bisexual, genius level intellect, two former fiancés, and currently in a relationship with a man from another world; one Alexander Leighton.’ As Alex expected, the information she had supplied was purely that; information, as a machine could do. ‘So, the issue Miguel’s dealing with at work is so bad that he can just get called up at any time, day or night?’ ‘Uh… Yeah. Again, directives. But, yeah. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Coffee? I’ll get one brewing. Food? I’ll get takeaway in. I can even change the mood lighting in the apartment if you want a better atmosphere, Miggy keeps it all set to a quarter brightness or lower, irritates his sensitive eyes. He is grumpy with a migraine.’ ‘I’m all good for now, Lyla. Just... Let me know when he’s coming back, please. Mm… Maybe a latte too, please?’ ‘Sure. It’s already brewing.’  

He was fairly sure he had dozed off at some point in the night, likely that Lyla had brewed him decaf, it didn’t even taste that good; maybe the 22nd century didn’t have actual coffee beans anymore. He didn’t realise he was asleep and curling in the blanket until he woke up beneath starry skies, feeling like he was no longer alone. ‘Mm… Miguel?’ He lifted his head from the cushion it had been resting on- when did that get there? He looked around to find the figure leaning against the balcony doors, arms folded, dressed in black and red. ‘Spider-Man…?’ He gave a curt nod in acknowledgement, still standing there. ‘Why are you here…? ‘Just... Keepin’ watch while you sleep.’ The deep growl of a voice answered. ‘I’m that important? Seriously, there must be more important things for you to do… it’s a big city…’ He hesitated, thinking. ‘… You know who I am?’ The Superhero finally stepped away from the glass, long, strong legs striding across before sitting down beside him with a soft groan and that little, fancy white cloak, styled like webbing, settled across his back slowly. ‘Of course I do. What, you think I go around keeping watch over random strangers while they sleep out under the stars? I’m doing this as a favour.’ Alex was aware of just how much sheer heat the Superhero radiated, and gently shuffled closer to him. ‘A favour to who?’ ‘Who do you think? O’Hara.’ ‘Wait, you know Miguel? You’re friends with him? He never mentioned you.’ That expressive mask looked to him; eyes narrow. ‘Why would he?’ Alex shrugged, watching the expression shift again, something he couldn’t read. ‘W-well, I don’t know… But this is the most we’ve ever spoken. Usually I just get a “Hmph” or “Sure” or “Stop thanking me”, and then you’re off.’ He reached out a hand, taking one of the Superhero’s own in his grasp, feeling razor claws ghost across his skin before being retracted and fingers curling around his own. ‘Stay with me a while hm? Please? Keep me company until Miguel’s back. I want to know more about you.’ He felt the Superhero’s eyes on him, mask drifting through all manner of expressions before he looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat. The hand squeezed his own softly, and he watched that broad chest swell as he inhaled deeply. ‘There’s… nothin’ for me to tell you.’

‘You could tell me where you got your fancy watch.’ Alex reached out, and the left arm was pulled away from his touch. ‘Miguel’s got one just like it. Is it… A model here, or is it something work related?’ The Superhero still didn’t look at him, Alex would have found it rude, but in truth he found it rather adorable; the giant, muscular man with the strength of ten- maybe twenty men was, perhaps, nervous. ‘.. That’s classified.’ ‘Classified? Again?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘So, you can’t tell me anything about what you do, or your fancy watch-? I’ve got one of my own, too.’ He pulled his sleeve, showing off the band around his wrist. ‘I don’t think mine has all the bells and whistles that yours does, mine apparently just stops me from melting while I’m in this city. What does yours do?’ ‘… A lot.’ Spider-Man still wasn’t looking at him. That was fine, he could work with it. ‘So, what do you do here?’ ‘What do I-? I’m Spider-Man. What the shock do you think I do?’ ‘Yeah, but you can’t be Spider-Man the entire time. You must do something that’s not classified.’ ‘I can’t tell you that either.’ ‘Classified?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Not even if I asked nicely? Y’know? Even if you know me, despite the fact that I’ve never been in this city before… Or this world.’ Spider-Man’s gaze returned to him. ‘Still can’t tell you.’ The deep growl was beginning to fall off, the Superhero was getting flustered.

Alex shuffled closer, resting against him, and watched the Superhero’s reaction, masked gaze widening. ‘D… Did you just sniff me?’ ‘That’s classified.’ Alex responded with a playful smile.   ‘Please, tell me something about you…’ ‘No! Please, stop asking!’ ‘Why are you so frustrated suddenly, Miguel?!’ ‘It’s because you keep trying to catch me out!’ Silence settled sharply, only the gentle hum of the city in the background. Alex watched Spider-Man’s masked visage slowly widen further in surprise as his mind caught up to the conversation. Alex let the small smirk slowly curl onto his features as the Superhero hung his head, visage narrowing into slits. ‘… Aw, shock…’ ‘I’m not just a handsome face…’ Alex sat back with a confident smile, resting on one hand as he began to count on his fingers of the other. ‘Let’s see; Same style of fancy watch, despite being in a completely different reality you recognize me, commenting how everything is classified- and yes, I did sniff you, just to confirm you were wearing the same cologne from earlier. Once you stopped putting on that “deep, scary superhero” voice… Well. It was obvious.’ He was smirking like a cat with all the cream, and watched the Superhero slump with a sigh, then one hand reached up and pulled the mask off, shaking out messy dark hair, red eyes looking to him. ‘Yeah… Alright, you caught me…’ He watched Miguel lick his lips, a smirk crawling onto his face. ‘… Now you’ll have to suffer the consequences.’

He moved almost faster than Alex could perceive, and suddenly the smaller man found himself tackled to the blanket, pinned under Miguel’s sheer mass, he was so very warm. ‘I think I like these consequences…’ Alex grinned up at him, humming as Miguel kissed his cheek softly. ‘I did say that I was going to hurry back for you…’ Alex looped his arms across that thick neck, trying to pull them closer until their lips met in a tender, sweet kiss, smiling and joyful. ‘So… You’re from the future of another world, and you’re also a Superhero... Any other secrets, Miguel?’ ‘Hmm... That I’m terribly in love with you?’ ‘.. Is that really a secret? What about your work-? Wait… Are you not wearing anything under that suit-?’ ‘Shh, let’s continue where we left off…’ He was hushed softly, then silenced with another long, slow kiss that brought them closer and closer together.

For as long as he remembered, he knew he wasn’t like other children.

His mother would wrap him up warm, a little scarf so that no-one could see the welts all over his lower face.

Their parents would whisper, and pull the children away from him.

His mother was loving and warm, but his father never showed him love. The man was cold and abusive. Calling him a freak with bloodshot eyes and the stench of alcohol on his breath.

Eventually his father revealed himself as violently homophobic. König’s attempt at exploration in his teen years ended in being beaten black and blue. His father called him a freak in more ways than one.

König was inevitably forced to confront the fact that he definitely wasn’t like other people. The man who spat venomous words was only his step-father. His mother conceded defeat when he stepped into the light to show his face. She told him that his father- his sire- was “exceptional” in all ways. A night of transcendental passion that defied all description.

At 35 years old, König stands over 7’ tall, and can lift a grown man single-handedly.

To say he is intimidating would be an awful understatement.

Until he met you, there was only one other man he trusted and loved deep enough to unmask himself. It was the deep and pure acceptance he’d always longed for. For a time, he had found someone he could trust absolutely.

When the townsfolk came with torches and petrol bombs, chanting of death to the “Abomination”, König was determined to fight, then to flee with his beloved. In the end, only he escaped the flames.

It takes him months of letting down his barriers and rejecting your attempts to see his face, before he finally agrees.

“Promise me, mein Schatz… P-promise me that you... Won’t scream…”

You had expected scarring, perhaps disfigurement.

“I promise, King, you’re handsome to me no matter how-“

You barely manage to choke back the shriek of horror, eyes blown wide as the sniper’s hood falls to his side, clutched tight in a fist.

His azure eyes are sad, sparkling with unshed emotions. All six of them. His nostrils are narrow, his frowning mouth barely visible beneath the many long, tentacles that now hang limp and still as he waits for you to reject him. To call him a freak. To run, screaming into the night, howling about a monster.

“That’s… N-not what I was expecting.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a soft gasp passes his lips. You don’t run, you step closer to him. Had reaching out, fascinated, until you stopped. “Can I touch them?”. He nods, slowly.

He shivers at the feel of your fingers brushing along one of his appendages, it twitches at the foreign contact. He slowly coaxes it into wrapping around your hand in return.

Kissing König is an experience. His huge hands cup your ass to support you against his chest, his tendrils wrap around your neck, across your shoulder and down your back, pulling you close against him. He kisses back with a ferocious desperation, a touch-starved, love-starved man who finally has acceptance once.

He has other secrets, too; of how his gloves conceal his dark, sharp nails and webbed fingers, of the faint, closed slits in his neck that hide gills, and of how the light never seems to sit quite right on his bare skin. It is as if the shadows of the night sky want to swallow him up.

You’d always let you imagination run wild, the first few times you’d slept with the hulking Colonel, the man who refused to show his face, but the moans and groans of your name from beneath the hood had been enough to sate you. Loving him for who he really was did not take much effort.

He loves you just as much. Perhaps, his love burns too hot. After what befell the last man who accepted him, König would do anything to keep you safe. To keep you his. Anything.

“Mein Liebe, mein Schatz… Mine…“

It’s common to wake up to find yourself hugged against his chest, eyes watching you sleep, a single tentacle stroking your cheek. Your dreams are stranger these days; of a ruined city beneath an eclipsed sun, and tattered yellow banners fluttering in dead winds.

You witnessed him deal with the last man who assaulted you; the mask shifted and one tentacle lashed out from beneath, wrapping around his neck and strangled him while König looked on with a ferocious growl in his chest.

At the Halloween party, König greeted you wrapped in golden silks and a white veil. He hugs you close, lavishing little kisses while spinning you on the spot and whispering sweet nothings in you ear. “I know who I am. What I am here for. Be my consort, by my side. Forever. We will rule this world made anew. You are worthy, dear one…”

Only then did you recognize what he meant. He was telling you who he was. His callsign, his robes of golden yellow silk, the yellow tears that stained his sniper hood. He’d always been telling you.

“Der gelbe König”.

General:

Hitting his head on low ceilings and having to duck through narrow doorways, and that was before anything weird started happening.

 No-one knows how or why it started. Just that one night the 6’10 Austrian man suddenly found himself 80’ tall with the rubble of his quarters all over him, and the eyes of the entire base upon him after being woken up. It did nothing to help his anxiety.

Even after figuring out how to return to a normal height, things were not smooth sailing for him. Half the base slept with one eye open in the event the Colonel would suffer another spontaneous growth spurt.

Only his tactical gear grows with him. He is very grateful that includes his comfort blanket of a hood.

Hates that he can only make himself bigger and cannot drop below his natural height. There are times he wishes he could just shrink down and hide from the world.

Learning to control his newfound power was another task altogether. Even the slightest sneeze would cause him to rocket up into the ceiling. He had taken to wearing a helmet to avoid any further concussions. Pitying smiles and “Gesundheit” from Horangi only went so far.

It wasn’t much better for the new recruits; being shouted at by a 6’10 Austrian man was scary enough. Being shouted at by the same man who was suddenly 9’ tall, in a deeper, louder voice was worse.

“Hey, if you ever become a Superhero, I get to write your origin story.” – Horangi.

Eventually had to resign from military service after he was considered too unstable with his new power.

As much as he hates being a civilian again, he enjoys the chance to get some proper sleep for once.

Once drove out into the middle of nowhere to figure out just how far his power stretched. He chickened out at five miles tall and decided he’d rather not know the answer after that.

Will make himself a little bit bigger if he needs to combat his anxiety. He feels better when all his problems look smaller.

Did eventually fall into the role of a rather clumsy Superhero. “Der König.” / “The King”.  Horangi held up his word about embellishing a heroic origin story. As attention grew, it became a bestseller. Horangi is already writing a sequel.

Romantic:

“Women love me. Men? Heh… They also love me. I am very fair that way, ja?”

You see him outside the window; towering over the streets, stepping carefully around traffic, silhouetted in the setting sun. You meet his huge, azure eyes just for a moment. He winks playfully and your heart skips because The King has seen you.

You get to see more than his public façade; you read the crinkling in his eyes, the smile hidden beneath his veil, where all his other fans make him retreat inside himself.

You get to see the goofball side of him, who tells silly jokes, and has the energy of an eager puppy.

Expect him to stammer and babble in German when he’s flustered. No amount of military training prepares for the turmoil of the heart.

Will steal your phone and put it somewhere too high for you to reach without a stool or ladder. He waits patiently for you to ask him for it back. He might just do it. Or just pick you up so you can grab it.

He will piggyback you around town, easily. It helps to calm his fanbase if they see he’s got a romantic interest. He’ll deal with the rabid, jealous ones personally, if they so much as touch a hair on your head.

You once started dozing off on his back one day, and he noticed. He smirked under his hood, and the next thing you knew, you were crashing up through tree branches and desperately scrambling to wrap your arms around his thickening neck as his huge hands reached back to steady you. "Enjoying the view, ja?! (Chuckle)"

He'll let you ride on his shoulder if he's feeling especially confident. Pick one.

“You will not like how I look under this hood, Schatz. I will spare you the pain of this ugly face.”

“Wha-? No… I am not some tentacled abomination. I.. I just… (sigh).”

He’ll kiss you back, but you have to shut your eyes first.

Big König gives bigger hugs. Having you in his lap, with your upper body swallowed in his big, strong arms. His heart melts for how lucky he feels.

You have a choice in the bedroom; he keeps the hood, or you wear the blindfold.

“Uh-uh! You know the rules, meine Liebe… Each time you beg, I get bigger. Aww… (Low chuckle).”