a sigh, then mumbling “ call maso. ” and hearing the phone ring, waiting for it to go over. a promise is a promise, after all, and he said he'd call him back.

disappearing onto a rooftop where he lays down and stares at the sky as it's slowly turning dark. it's in that moment that he flicks his phone display inside the mask on and sees his last call still there : maso. crap. ( ↓ )

groan he enters the field. at the end it's not a new record, but with seventeen minutes and fifty seven seconds it's not bad. that being said, shoulder keeps nagging. he'll cool it at home. that'll be fine. spider-man jumps up, ( ↓ )

with a voice command he starts a timer, left hand moves to reach out — shooting another web to propell himself forward. he feels the scar tissue over his shoulder pull, then a tearing sensation. great. perfect. with a ( ↓ )

the line disconnects, there's not even a second for maso to say something back — peter is busy, after all. webs carry him to scene of it all ; flashing a peace sign as he zips past a helicopter recording for the news. ( ↓ )

FEAST. i'll call you back, okay ? ” he doesn't wait for an answer, ending the call and leaping off the building - busy as always !

half a second to add a “ unless you want to, i mean. i was just drunk. i was still me - doesn't matter. uh, - ” he's cut off by an explosion in the distance. god damn it. “ sorry, i gotta run. i'm helping out at ( ↓ )

conversation that wasn't about work. “ — i won't. ” comes the answer after a few moments of silence, head shaking ; not that he could see that. “ it's, uh. it's fine. you don't have to forget. ” he starts, pausing for only ( ↓ )

no more swinging and calling, alright. he listens, front teeth gently biting down on his lower lip as he finds comfort in the other's voice. truth be told, he can't remember the last time they had such a . . . almost normal ( ↓ )

right. yesterday. he's so focused on the other and his words that he almost smacks into a wall — dodging it at the last moment and letting go ; flying through the air and landing on a random rooftop. ( ↓ )

so why do i still feel so goddamn inferior?

what the other said. “ oh, yeah. yeah. you're welcome, least i could do really. 's fine. ”

arm reaches up, hand shooting out a web and propelling him back up into the sky ; but not without feet skidding over the asphalt, sparks filling up the street as automatic pilot takes over — only now processing ( ↓ )

“ maso ? ” he sounds surprised, as if hearing the other's voice suddenly caught him off guard. it does, matter of fact, it causes him to freeze. the ground is rapidly approaching and he snaps back into it after a second. ( ↓ )

but it makes it . . better. more bearable. he's swinging around, scanning the city as his phone rings. probably work, he figures, answering with a vocal command so it's inside of the mask as he dives down. “ — hello ? ”

it's his way of paying penance, every time spider-man bleeds it's skimming of some of peter's sins. it'll never be enough, though. every touch will remained poisoned, destined to spread pain to all who dare to get close. ( ↓ )

he's not sure if he likes being spider-man. sometimes he does, other times he wonders if it's just all he knows. he likes what spider-man does. the change he's able to make in the world, it makes him feel . . . better. ( ↓ )

unlocking it and thumb then hovering over the screen. he stares at it for a while, but then decides it's best not to. instead he walks off, grabbing his suit. patrol, then another nightmare filled sleep. no bothering maso.

he should ask someone if it's acting up for them too, or if they know an easy fix. he could ask a coworker, or . . . he could ask maso. no. he shouldn't. it would be an excuse. hand slowly goes to his phone, ( ↓ )

for the overlap in their points. it's a big annoying, however, how the program keeps shutting down and restarting itself. when it happens for a fifth time peter groans ; shutting the laptop with more force than necessary. ( ↓ )