Summary: An alternate timeline, post 2018 PS4 video game and pre-The City That Never Sleeps DLCs. Both reeling from loneliness, Spider-Man and Captain Yuri Watanabe begin an unexpected series of trysts, all the while struggling to solve a string of crimes. Yuri never thought she'd fall for anyone that would interfere with her work again, let alone Spider-Man, but here she was.
Yuri/Spider-Man ("Spider/Cop") shipping! Y'know MJ/Peter is the ultimate OTP of ANY fandom f'me, but I couldn't not write this after listening to a song, so I'm trying something new! There needs to be more Yuri/Peter content out there.
Story title is based off the song that inspired it! 3AM by Mads Langer! Give it a listen if you want to get the general mood of the fanfiction/my interpretation of the ship.
Rating: T (possibly subject to change), for explicit language, violence, and adult situations/references. This is a (slightly?) steamy fic!
Might leave this as a one-shot since it ends fairly nicely, so if you want this to continue just let me know in a review! You can also find it on AO3 under my pen-name "BrightBloo".
First, a list of Disclaimers: -Obviously I don't own any original Spider-Man properties~ -Gonna reiterate that MJ/Peter is my OTP but hey let's try something new just this once -I headcanon Yuri as bi. It's not that relevant to this particular fanfiction but it's something to note when reading. -I'm Canadian. That means some spellings that I use are British. Deal.
It'd been three months.
Three months since the city hall bombing, since the Sinister Six were scattered, since Norman Osborn stepped down, and three months since the dreaded disease "Devil's Breath" was eradicated. For the most part, New York City was safe. All of Spider-Man's enemies were well accounted for, not including a few loose ends still running around the city in a post-Ryker's-mass-breakout world. After things settled down he'd even managed to patch things up with Mary Jane. For a while, things had felt fine. May Parker may have been gone, leaving a gaping hole in the wake of her death, but at least Peter had MJ around to ease the transition from mourning to normality. The loss felt... less, with her to help. Until now.
"You're breaking up with me?" asked an aghast Peter.
They were in Osteria Fiorita, ironically the place of their first official date. Fiorita was beaten down, dusty, and not terribly upkept. It made up for this by being classy, having great lighting, a good atmosphere, and friendly staff. Best of all, the food was in Pete's price range. For Peter, the restaurant had always been associated with happy memories, maybe even more so than Mick's. MJ's smile, a shared pizza or plate of cheap pasta... Now it was tainted.
"Don't say it like that," sighed Mary Jane. She adjusted the straw in her glass, swirling sizzling bubbles in her strawberry soda. Peter got the idea that she was reluctant to look him in the eyes. "Saying it like that implies that there's something wrong with you, with us."
"Well, there clearly is if you're calling it quits."
"I don't want to quit on us, Peter, but maybe we need a break."
"I need you."
"No, no you don't. You're a god damn superhero, and me... Well, I like to help you out where I can, dig up information, find witness... But let's be honest with ourselves, you'd get along just fine without me."
"For a while, maybe, but what about-" Not knowing how to say the next bit without losing masculinity points, Peter struggled for words. In that uncanny way of hers, MJ seemed to know exactly what he was failing to get across. She always seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say, what he was thinking, better than himself sometimes.
"Emotional support? I'll always be a shoulder to cry on, or someone to call in California, Pete," said MJ softly, touching his hand across the table. "But you underestimate yourself. You're stronger than you think, really."
Heart crumbling to pieces, Peter sat back in his seat and removed his hand from MJ's grip. The world was wrong. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't imagine a lift without MJ in New York, working for the Daily Bugle, living only a subway ride or a few swings away. As a last resort, Peter pulled his puppy-dog eyes from his arsenal, perhaps unintentionally. Mary Jane could never seem to resist those eyes, so she made a point of avoiding them.
"Do you have to go?" Hard as he tried to the contrary, Peter's voice quavered.
"It's a great job opportunity. Not a bad salary, and a lot less super criminals terrorizing the city. Usually that sort of thing is just my forte for writing, but lately..." she stammered a little, and Peter came to realize that this was just as hard for her as it was for him. It hurt to know that she didn't believe in his ability to protect her, consciously or not, though perhaps it was warranted, realistic. There were certainly times that he'd wanted her out of the city, when things got especially bad. Shaking her head, MJ finished with an air of finality. "I need to stretch my wings, try new frontiers."
"Look, Peter, you're a great guy, and I love you. I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, to be honest, but this... thing we have happening, it's just not healthy. I need time to myself, to actually focus on my career, and you need to cut the umbilical cord and learn to get by without relying on me 24/7. It's tiring for me, living your life vicariously through your venting. Maybe one day... we can try to make things work again, if you or I haven't moved on. But for now..."
"Yeah." Peter swallowed, and in doing so did his best to swallow down his sadness. His closing word on the subject was a simple, "Ok."
TheDailyBugle: Today we say goodbye to one of our star reporters, MJWatsonJackpot, who is leaving for an exciting new employment opportunity at LosAngelesTimes. We'll miss you Ms. Watson!
Reply from MirandaB: Awww. You always told the truth girl! Keep at it.
In the end, Yuri Watanabe had really just traded her tobacco addiction for nicotine when she quit smoking. Now she was in the process of weaning herself off of the nicotine, but it was proving just as difficult as the giving up smoking. Still, a new taste for a drug-laced gum was in no ways worse than lung cancer. Out of the two evils, the sick, peppery taste of a stick of gum was infinitely preferable. Besides, Spider-Man approved.
Spider-Man. Yuri had always had mixed feelings about the vigilante. For one thing he was her exact opposite in almost every way, but that never seemed to stop them from fighting on the same side. He was mischievous, a wannabe comedian and prankster, eager to please but somehow hardly ever able to do so. Yuri was no-nonsense, strict with herself and her underlings, and an unyielding perfectionist. And yet, she not only tolerated the vigilante but found him endearing at times, too. All in all, their personalities clashed, but their goals never did.
Right now Yuri was in the middle of trying to get a hold of said superhero, phone to her ear, right hand to her steering wheel, and nicotine gum in her mouth. Her jaw worked the gum into a pulp even as she sped along. Outside her police cruiser windows the world went whipping by. Pedestrians strained to see her on the curb, and cabbies parted for her like the red sea. When Spider-Man finally picked up, it was hard to hear him over the screech of Yuri's sirens.
"Yuri. 'Sup?" He certainly sounded taciturn today. Gone was his cheerful, chatty talkativeness, replaced by strained single-syllables. Yuri ignored it. For now his mood was irrelevant.
"I need you in East Harlem, stat. How far away are you?"
"I could be there in fifteen. Why? What's happening?" His voice had picked up some interest from those vague demands that served as an unintentional incentive.
Yuri gritted her teeth, swerving around a corner to avoid some punk j-walker. She honked more than once at him as she streaked away. For his part the j-walker stood paralyzed, eyes wide and traumatized at the near-death collision. The whole time Spider-Man waited patiently for an answer on his end, wind whisking past his speaker as he swung, already on the move.
"It's the enforcers," Yuri got out.
"What?! Those sideshow knuckleheads have resurfaced?"
"Did you just call them knuckleheads?" Shortly after saying this Yuri shook her head to the side. Focus, Yuri, focus. "Yes, it's them, all three of them. After Fisk went down we were never quite able to find them."
"Are they still working for Fisk?"
"Could be. He definitely doesn't have a problem with paying his other employees from prison. Does it matter?"
"Yeah, you're right, we'll figure it out later."
"They're robbing a small casino-bar and generally causing a ruckus. Dodgy place. Called the "The Serenade Lounge". We think it was extortion gone sideways. Get there before it gets taken to the streets and people get hurt."
"On it." With that, Spider-Man promptly hung up on his side of the phone. He'd gone into what Yuri liked to call "action-mode", something she herself experienced on almost a daily basis. It didn't matter if it was a crime or a confrontation with her mother, "action mode" was a way of life.
Though her confusion and anxiety at the sudden reappearance of the Enforcers was still strong, Yuri had complete trust in Spider-Man to handle the situation. Eventually. The biggest question was how long it would take and what the extent of the property damage would climb to. If he stuck to solely trashing that slimy "Serenade Lounge", an establishment she'd been wanting to bust for months now, then she would forgive him. One thing was for certain: she or one of her coworkers would be stuck with an awful lot of paperwork later tonight.
Eyes0Pen: Spotted the Spoods booking it across Upper East. Check these action pics. -embedded image-
Reply from AWSMSCE: The NYCWallCrawler in his natural habitat, everybody.
Reply from SpiderNerdArmy: That ass though.
Reply from Eyes0Pen: SpiderNerdArmy ...
Reply from SpiderNerdArmy: What?
Something like this was just what Spider-Man needed. A kick in the ass to get him back on track. Sure, he wasn't happy that the Enforcers were shooting up some place, robbing, and spreading havoc, but that didn't mean that some small part of him was displeased at the chance to take out his frustrations on some C-level criminals. ...B-list, at best. For a moment, just a moment, he was able to forget MJ in the midst of his swings towards the scene.
Wooping, Spider-Man detached at the top of a tall arc and let himself plummet. At the last second, he snagged a nearby skyscraper with a line and swung out of the free-fall. Pedestrians ducked out of instinct as he came close, yells varying from excitement to disgust. The key to moves like that was keeping his body loose and tense at the right times, something he'd mastered over eight years of occasional face plants.
When he got closer to the location Yuri had sent him, Spider-Man slowed down and became silent. It wasn't hard to find The Serenade-whatever, even without a sign. The street was abandoned, cordoned off by first responders. Gunshots rattled in Spider-Man's skull, piercing through walls, his mask, and his sensitive eardrums. Go time.
To Spider-Man's delight, he found a vent just his size outside The Serenade Lounge. The spider-themed wallcrawler wasted no time in crawling inside, eye-lenses opening wider like pupils to allow more access to light in the dim ducts. The air was choked with dust, visible only when it drifted into the light cast by openings. From what glimpses that Spider-Man got of the place below, he was not impressed. In short, The Serenade was a seedy sack of shit. Through the grills Spider-Man could spy a pair of police engaged in a firefight with the presumably unseen Enforcers. As he pressed forward Spider-Man soon spotted the men of honour themselves.
The Enforcers were a trio whose appearance evoked nostalgia for a bygone era of classy gangsters in suits. That image was ruined by their more unconventional and even quirky talents and names. Jackson W. Brice or "Montana" wore a suit, tie, and Stetson hat; Spider-Man often affectionately referred to him in his head as "Fancy cowboy". The man was so skilled with a lariat that it was uncanny, and Spider-Man knew from experience that his proficiency with lasso was not to be underestimated. The diminutive Daniel "Fancy Dan" Brito was the picturesque mafioso with his fedora, and a whiz at judo. More than once Fancy Dan had even managed to get the drop on Spidey, bypassing his spider-sense before he could react properly. Out of the three, Raymond Bloch "Ox" was the most physically intimidating. Hell, he could give Wilson Fisk a run for his money, if he had more martial arts training. The three ex-circus criminals were a nasty, contentious bunch, and although Montana tended to act as their leader in the absence of a Boss, the spot was highly contested.
Luckily, Spider-Man had dealt with them long enough to know how they operated. First, he had to take Dan out with stealth, then take out Ox before the strongman could do any more damage. There was no splitting these guys up, so he had to be quick. Holding his breath, Spider-Man removed the grate below him and sent out a web. He snagged Fancy Dan directly on the ankle and yanked him up, releasing the breath he'd sucked in before. Dan yelled and swore but was quickly silenced when Spider-Man slammed him into the roof of the air-shaft and stuck him there with a splat of a web. The martial arts master looked unconscious, but for good measure Spider-Man plastered his mug with muzzling webs, leaving space for his nostrils to take in oxygen.
Montana and Ox weren't idiots, although they sure could fool Spider-Man on that account. They knew that Spider-Man was here. In the ensuing confusion, Ox effortlessly threw a table at the police, and Montana started shooting wildly into the ceiling. Relying on his spider-sense, Spider-Man contorted his body to evade the bullets that got too close. Not about to misuse a moment, Spider-Man propelled himself from his perch like a catapult, twisting mid-air, feet aimed directly at the nape of Ox's neck. The soles of his feet struck true, planting firmly against the space between Ox's neck and shoulders. It was enough to knock him forward and out, but controlled enough so that his spine remained intact.
"Die you sonuva-" Montana started, gun raised, lariat seamlessly and simultaneously spinning over his hat.
Spider-Man dodged the first bullet, but he wasn't so lucky when Montana cast his rope. It tightened like a vice around Spidey's torso, constricting like a snake. The braided fibres it was made up of were tougher than they appeared, and thus Spider-Man always needed some time to slip out of Montana's snares. For all Montana's skill, though, the guy was only a glorified cowboy, no super strength like Ox. The moment Spider-Man was caught he leapt like a jackrabbit into the rafters, taking Montana with him. The gangster lost his grip immediately afterwards and landed on his ass. It was enough to get a laugh out of Spider-Man.
"Oh man, oh boy, did anyone record that?" Spider-Man wheezed from his new perch, wiping at imaginary tears. "Pr-Priceless. AFV material-YIKES."
Whatever dumb joke Spider-Man was going to follow the taunt up with was interrupted when Montana resumed firing his gun. The cops just outside area of immediate conflict seemed reluctant to join in now that Spider-Man was involved. Their worry was that he would get caught in the line of fire. Spider-Man ended their deliberations by calling out to them, "Go! Get out of here! I'll handle this!"
One of the officers bristled resentfully. "Forget it! This is our job-"
"Just do as he says!" snarled a third, feminine voice. Yuri Watanabe had arrived, and was not about to be trifled with. It was common knowledge in the entire department that Watanabe had a thing for Spider-Man, though the nature of that "thing" fell anywhere on the continuum from a rumoured romantic tryst to a professional tolerance. There was no fighting her when it came to the webhead.
With the other officers vacated, Spider-Man could really let loose. He was a whirlwind of motion, limbs blurring into non-distinct shapes of red and blue as he dodged and punched and kicked. All the while that by-now-iconic, signature white spider on his front remained steady. The logo was unconsciously frightening on some subconscious level, the part of the human psyche that irrationally feared the stings of scorpions under a thousandth their size, or the bite of a small spider easily crushed under a shoe. In this case, that fear was justified. This spider was human-sized, and although he wasn't much for biting, his strikes more than made up for it.
"Come on Montana. Gimme a yeehaw? Just this once? I'm begging you. That accent is too adorable."
Montana might've been outclassed, but he was undaunted. He was determined not to go down without a fight. All he wanted was one nick, one nick of a bullet if he couldn't kill the acrobatic bastard. Spider-Man was practically playing with him, dancing around his lasso and gunfire. Eventually the superhero just jammed Montana's barrel with webbing, rendering it useless. Disgusted, he tossed the web-packed gun aside bitterly. Fine. He preferred the rope anyway.
At this point Spider-Man was starting to feel quite proud of himself. Cocky, even. He could feel the fight coming to an end. It was practically over, and it'd been a relatively speedy, efficient, and clean affair. Easy, almost too easy.
All of the sudden his spider-sense screamed at him. Spider-Man heeded its signal and sprang straight up in the air, but not before a recovered and enraged Ox wrapped his massive arms around Spider-Man's waist. Yelping, Spider-Man was dragged down and slammed into a table. He tried to wriggle away at contact with the floor, but Ox wasn't about to let him go. Grunting, the giant of a man straightened and started to squeeze. Screaming, Spider-Man squirmed as his ribs began to contract and crack. The spider bite had made him more durable than most men, but even he had limits. In a self-satisfied sort of way, Montana strode over to his partner and prisoner.
"Well well," he drawled smugly with that thick southern accent of his. "Looks like we caught us a bug."
Hardly audible, Spider-Man gasped, "Please, no hu-ugs."
"Should we squish 'im?" Ox asked with an effort that came from trying to restrain the frantically writhing spider.
"Just hold him still for a sec'," replied Montana.
Not long afterwards Spider-Man felt a noose slide around his neck. Montana tossed the end of the rope over the rafters and passed its end to Ox.
"Would you do the honours, Ox?"
A grin that Spider-Man never saw twisted onto Ox's flat-faced features. "Pleasure's all mine," he purred, before pulling the rope down and hoisting Spider-Man up off his feet.
Choking. Dying. Peter Parker's starved lungs screamed for air. His trachea felt bruised, but that was the least of his problems. Air. Air! Every part, every cell of him was desperate for it. Behind his mask Peter gasped and gulped, mouth wide. He almost ripped the mask off instinctively, for all the good that would do. The part of his brain that was still in working order instructed Peter's fingers to claw at the necklace of rope that was slowly killing him. Tough as it was, the tie was starting to come undone from Spider-Man's sheer strength alone. He might've torn it to pieces, eventually, but a part of Peter was already starting to accept that there might not be anymore time.
I can't believe it's going to end like this. Strangled by the fucking Enforcers. Gimme a break... Peter thought morbidly. I can't BELIEVE my last joke was "please, no hugs". Sorry Uncle Ben. I let you down.
Just when things began to go black, he was saved. A shot rang out and lodged right in Ox's shoulder. "Gaarh!" the guy hollered, keeling forward. Blood droplets splattered on Spider-Man's feet just before they touched solid ground once more. Oxygen, blessed oxygen trickled down Spider-Man's throat and filled his expanding lungs. God damn it did it feel good to be alive. After half a second of recovery, Peter slammed a fist into the surprised face of Montana and knocked him out cold. As for the injured Ox, a swift strike to the back of the head put him into a state of unconsciousness once more.
From behind him, a familiar voice sighed. "What would you do without me?"
Although Yuri couldn't see it, what with the mask, Peter spared a sheepish smile at her. "Hey, I got them didn't I?"
TheDailyBugle: The Enforcers behind bars once more! Daniel Brito escapes to rob and kill another day! Read all about it in today's edition!
Reply from LaughingMonkey22: NOBODY. READS. NEWSPAPERS.
Reply from DirkMaldonado: LaughingMonkey22 Get. A. Life.
Once more Yuri found herself at the top of her precinct building, but rather than smoking as she used to, she was yet again chewing another piece of gum. It calmed her down, smoothed her fried nerves. After all that office work, calls to the Chief, and writing up the official report, she was tuckered out.
More than that, she felt... alone. A part of that came from literally being alone, up on the roof as she was, leaning against the railing. The other part of it was all emotional. It was the anniversary of her last relationship, one that had ended messily a year before she became a lieutenant, before she met Spider-Man, before her purpose as a police-officer had been reinvigorated. That was... what, her fifth relationship? DeWolff... She really thought it would've worked out between the two of them. They'd remained friends but it just wasn't the same. After that Yuri lost all interest in anything but her job and the city.
Sighing, Yuri drove those unwanted thoughts away and glanced at the time on her phone. Three o'clock in the morning. Huh. How time flies... She pocketed the phone once more and chewed resolutely.
It was a peaceful night, which was saying something for New York. Sure, the distant honks of cab drivers and the roars of engines were a constant reality, no matter what the time of day, but Yuri had become desensitized to them, habituated to a point that she didn't really hear them anymore. Yuri appreciated the serene silence, the solitary nature of being up here that was somehow soothing. Hell, she could even pick out a few stars out through the fog. Or were those helicopters? She figured she better not overanalyze it and ruin the moment.
Softly, someone alighted beside her on the railing. On a regular day Yuri might've jumped, but today more than most days she'd expected him to make an eventual appearance. He always came here to apologize, grovel, and pout to her when something went wrong. Rarely did he surprise her these days. Unbidden, a smile twitched on the left corner of Yuri's lips.
"I can't believe that punk got away. He must've had something in his pockets to cut off those webs," Spider-Man bemoaned. His shoulders sagged, and Yuri would've almost felt bad for him, if he wasn't acting like such a big baby.
"Forget about it. We'll get him."
"'Forget about it'?" Spider-Man repeated, reeling backwards in a playful manner. "This from you?"
"Hey, I can be chill if I want to. I'm not always uptight," Yuri defended herself brusquely.
Like a student in class, Spider-Man raised a hand straight in the air. "I have a question."
"Yes?" Yuri groaned, already almost regretting her consent. Her acceptance to the question was rewarded, though. It was surprisingly mature.
"Why that place? Why not rob... I dunno, a bank or something. They're popular among cheap thugs. Or a bigger casino? That place looked poor, and hardly legal."
"That's exactly the point. It is hardly legal, and appearances can be deceiving. There's a lot more money flowing through there than you would think. We've suspected that its a front for the Maggia for a while now. Might've started out legit, and we have no evidence to the contrary, but my gut tells me it's Maggia, and my gut is never wrong."
"Maggia? They're still around?" Spider-Man sounded legitimately surprised, eye-lenses widening. She'd always found it sort of adorable when they did that. Alternatively, when those bug-like lenses were narrowed, they gave off a frightening appearance that was prone to giving her shivers, despite her prolonged exposure and partnership to the man.
"Huh. I thought people like Hammerhead were the last of them, old relics..."
"Well, you were wrong."
They both lapsed off into silence, not speaking. It was awkward, but somehow easy to be with him. Pensive, Yuri stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't wrong earlier when she deemed him upset over the phone. The guy hid it well, but there was a defeated limpness to his posture, a sort of gloomy cloud hanging over his head that didn't suit him at all. Spider-Man was the first to break their unstated pact of no-speaking.
"I brought something for you. Brb," he chirped with forced happiness, and abruptly jumped off the side of the building. Yuri started only slightly as he left, reassured when he let out a webline and disappeared out of sight. A chuckle escaped her without her consent.
"Brb?" she repeated aloud.
"Hey don't laugh," he huffed again, already returned. She turned around to see him sitting in that cute crouch of his, holding a paper drink tray. Inside were two cups, branded with that Starbucks-lady-logo that was already enough to get her mouth salivating.
"I felt bad about letting Fancy Dan get away," he explained, hopping down gently and with that characteristic, sinuous grace that could only be replicated by a spider spinning silk. Somehow Yuri knew that there was no chance of him splashing any of that coffee over himself or onto the ground. "So... Starbucks. Didn't know what you liked, so I got you an iced caramel macchiato."
"For me? You shouldn't have." Yuri spat out her bitter gum into a tissue, then made a grabby-hand gesture for a cup. Chuckling, Spider-Man passed one to her and protectively cradled the remaining coffee to his chest. Daintily, he reclaimed his perch on the stretch of railing beside her, sticking and balancing there perfectly.
"Yay! I finally found your weakness. I'll wear you down, eventually. One day you'll like me."
"Keep bringing me iced caramel macchiatos and you won't find me complaining," Yuri moaned around her straw. Jesus this was good, and just what she needed. Sure, it was a little late to be drinking caffeine, but she could care less. Who the hell needed sleep anyways? "How did you even get this? It's 3am."
"That one open-twenty-four-hours place on Broadway? I dropped by and they gave me a superhero discount. Just the sort of thing to give a guy the warm fuzzies, y'know?"
Shrugging, Yuri responded in-between swallows, "I'm not that surprised. Not all of New York hates you, y'know."
"Yeah I know..." There it was again. That dejected tone that Yuri desperately wanted to rectify, if just to stop her from feeling despondently shitty by proxy. She decided against asking him the standard "what's up?" in favour of a more tactful change in conversation to distract him.
"How's that girlfriend of yours?" (1)
"We, uh," Spider-Man coughed delicately. "Broke up. Yesterday, actually. 'Wound's still fresh."
Well that explained it. She may have accidentally stumbled upon the cause, but it made perfect sense. The revelation was two-folded for her. On the one hand, her heart ached for him. Poor guy. She knew better than most how it felt, to try hard day after day to make it work and yet to still be disappointed despite your best efforts. On the other hand, the revelation opened up new intriguing opportunities that she wasn't consciously aware of. Somehow, though, his presence felt different now, filled with possibilities. Hopefully she hadn't come across as fishing.
"What about you? I don't think I've ever asked if you got a beau."
"Not at the moment," answered Yuri shortly. She too wasn't in the mood to get too deep into it.
He processed that for a bit. Yuri had always seemed so absorbed in her work, aloof; it was hard for people to imagine her involved with anyone romantically. Once upon a time though she'd been a raging romantic, contrary to popular belief. That level of dedication was probably what scared off her first boyfriend in high school. Spider-Man seemed to be scrambling for a topic switch, and he found one fairly quickly.
"Remember when we first met?"
Yuri's response was dry. "I pointed a gun at you."
"Yeah, heh. Memories."
Yuri gave Spider-Man an odd look at his fond sigh. The superhero tended to bemuse her at best, and annoy her at worst, but there was something there... something in stark contrast to his childish witticisms. Underneath all of that aloofness, Yuri could tell that he took things seriously, and took them hard too, harder than most. Hell, he acted like it was his job to be concerned for the city, and she was the police officer. Deep down Spider-Man was really an adorable worry-wart, and she cherished this intimate knowledge of him. In spite of that neurotic core that Yuri could always sense, she knew him to be one of the most warm and welcoming persons in the world, or at least that she'd met, mask or no.
Carelessly and casually, Spider-Man tugged his mask up to his nose and started to sip on his iced macchiato at last. It wasn't the first time Yuri had seen him half-maskless, but this time it felt... different. More significant. For the first time since she met him she was actually invested in his secret identity, no, just his face, moreso than she had ever experienced before. In the beginning it'd been a passing interest, one that never interfered with her desire to clean up the city first and worry about useless civilian identities later. She knew him to be a normal person outside the suit, more normal than most according to his own admission.
From what the bottom half of his face gave away, he wasn't bad looking. Course, she couldn't judge the rest, but the mystery of his face was overlaid by the rest of his body. The suit didn't hide much. It snugly hugged every contour, every muscle. She could count his abs up close like this, something that had been done to death on the internet. Like most super types, he was a muscular specimen, but not as big or buff as say, Thor or Captain America. Instead Spider-Man was a skinny thing in comparison, athletic and sleek, like a swimmer's physique.
Heat rose in Yuri's cheeks when she realized what she was doing. Shit. Quickly covering up the line of sight contained indicated in her stares, she looked away and sipped some more of her drink. Fortunately he hadn't noticed, absolutely absorbed in his own beverage. What was she doing? Acting like a school girl with a crush? Was it because he'd admitted to being single again? Was she that desperate of a person? Snap out of it, Watanabe, she scolded herself.
Shifting on his feet, Spider-Man gazed up at the sky. She watched his mouth as the words came out. "Y'know, Yuri," he started, tripping over his words. "I'm glad you did point that gun at me. 'Was the start of something beautiful in the end, wasn't it? We got Fisk, together, even if you acted all tough and bossy and sent me to steal boring evidence most of the time. Us. We did that. We're the real reason Fisk is finally behind bars. You gave me the information needed to cripple his construction operations, to save those people in the Sable camps. You saved me from Sable that first time even when you didn't have to, shot Ox, saved my bacon... You risk your job every day just by associating yourself with someone controversial like me. You've just... always got my back when I need you. Thanks for... for being my friend." A lopsided, bittersweet smile quirked up the side of his lips. "God knows I need all the ones I can get, right?"
Touched, she couldn't stop herself from springing forward and stealing his lips with hers. Almost losing his balance, he staggered backwards and clenched his coffee cup until the plastic cracked. She paid his reaction only a passing heed, stepping forward before she knew what she was doing. The part of her brain that was responsible for higher thought had shut off, and in its place that primal part that didn't think but acted took over the reins. If her brain had been functioning properly, she wouldn't have believed what she was doing, but here she was, kissing Spider-Man.
To her not-so-subtle delight, he didn't pull away. He seemed shocked, sure. His body felt stiff, and the Starbucks cup was leaking its contents through punctured plastic. For a second she spared a peek and saw the "eyes" of his mask, wider than she had ever seen them before. It was almost comical. Slowly, though, they started to close. Before she could regain enough sense to pull away, he leaned into her. Forgotten, the Starbucks cup dropped out of his hand, spiraling to the China Town streets below.
It started innocent enough. A little kiss, shared equally between them with relatively little movement on either of their parts. Almost simultaneously, though, they began to mutually move. First it was just their lips, working against each other, pulling away for quick breaths as the "innocent" kiss moved into make-out territory. Then, there were tongues involved. Neither one of them wanted to stop, so they moved on from frenching to fondling. Yuri could hardly comprehend how they had gotten from point A to B. It'd all happened so fast, and still it was escalating.
Her hands traced shapes over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness that she'd only suspected firsthand. He was higher than her, still half-crouched on the railing, so she had to crane her head upwards to kiss him comfortably. Eager, he lowered his torso to deepen the kiss, a gloved hand tentatively running through her short hair, then weaving its fingers through. His thighs were spread on either side of her, and the hand that Yuri had placed on his body soon trailed down to them...
Spider-Man shivered and took that as an invitation to do the same to her, something that she oh-too-willingly submitted to. Gently, hesitantly, he moved the hand away from her black locks and slipped it under her shirt. It crept upwards for a while, and didn't stop until it reached her bra. There was some timid tugging that soon became bold. The back was unclipped and his hand reached under the cups. Yuri was frustrated by the gloves, and she was sure that the feeling was likewise for him.
He was good with his hands. While they worked she broke their current kiss and planted a new one on his exposed neck. A nip or two along his skin made them shiver collectively. It was only then that Yuri Watanabe finally came to her senses.
"Shit!" she growled, pulling back and straightening her disheveled hair and shirt. "Stop!"
Taken aback, Spider-Man flinched like a whipped dog at the unprecipitated change of pace. Uncertainly, he tried to calm her down, and Yuri got the impression that he too felt embarrassed by how far they'd done. "Uh, sorry? Hey, you kissed me!"
"I shouldn't have done that. Shit. Get out of here!" she snapped in a shaky voice pointing off in some vague direction towards the city to send him off.
Quickly but clumsily, Spider-Man complied, casting himself off the precinct building and swinging away with less of his usual elegance. He probably hadn't recovered yet. Lord knew Yuri hadn't. She was still breathing heavily, hot in the face, flustered beyond expression. Shit, shit, shit. Why did she do that? This was the worst idea she'd had in her career, and there was no way it would work out. Her one little slip up could've cost her a useful, platonic and professional partnership with a superhero, something that many police officers could only dream of. One slip up, and she could've compromised everything. Maybe she already had.
And yet, no matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise, she didn't regret one moment.
AN: (1) Yes, Yuri knows that Spider-Man has a girlfriend. It's covered in the game's prequel novel "Hostile Takeover" by David Liss. The reference to Yuri and Spidey's first meeting is also from that book.
An aside/personal critique: The break up scene is purposefully vague because it's not that important WHY they broke up, but it's also vague because honestly MJ/Peter temporary break ups in comics always seem so strained to me, mostly because they just work so well most of the time -cough-ONEMOREDAY-cough-POSTPLANECRASH-cough-. The odd motivations in their splits can't be avoided sometimes. They still love each other, but they need to move on and meet new people.
Once more, if you'd like this fic to continue just lemme know in a comment!