You could do an ASTV tickling fic of Hobie meeting Miles's Parents (where Hobie, Miles and Gwen are boyfriends) and Jefferson and Rio decide to question him about his intentions for his son... and if you could you could also do a in which Hobie meets Gwen's father. George Stacy, please
~I love writing for Jeff and Rio; they’re the parents ever 💖 Rio would be so mean to Hobie if she thought he was hiding something. I wasn’t able to fit George in this, but he might make an appearance in a future fic. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Hobie
Lers: Jeff and Rio Morales
Summary: Hobie finally meets Jeff and Rio, though a mission from the previous week leaves the parents with a few unanswered questions. Thanks to Miles’s terrible lying skills, Hobie’s in for the interrogation of his life.
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
“You’re gonna be fine, Hobs. My mom’s gonna love you.”
Hobie sighed, biting one of his ringed fingers. He remembered how Gwen’s second meeting with them went: Jeff was still super suspicious, and Rio was drilling her with seven thousand questions. She’d bitten her nails to the quick before they reached a peaceful place with each other.
Unfortunately, it was his turn. He was terrified.
“Your dad’s a cop, Miles. I’ve got blue laces. Even if he jus’ thinks it’s the anti-racism message, it’s not a good look,” Hobie appealed, his colors flashing a spotty grey. “Plus, he’s a cop. You know how I feel abou’ that.”
“I know, but…he’s not like your cops. He’s not a massive asshole, he’s not racist or homophobic, and he actually cares about the city and the people in it.” Miles could easily see where his boyfriend was coming from, but he wanted to try and ease his nerves and anxiety. “The system is flawed, but he’s not someone who contributes to it being that way.”
Hobie bit his lip, running his tongue over the metal ring lip hanging on it. He wished Gwen could be there. She had plans with her dad, however, and she couldn’t waste the special time they had. Hobie completely understood; they deserved some casual fun after everything that happened.
“Mmph…al’igh, fine. I got this.” Hobie shook out his shoulders, trying to amp himself up. It was only a dinner, maybe some couch talk afterwards—nothing horrible or life-threatening. He was Spider-Punk, for crying out loud.
With a smile and a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek, Miles took Hobie’s hand. “Yeah you do. C’mon, we can catch the four o’clock if we leave soon.”
- - -
“So, Hobie… Is that your birth name? A preferred one? Nickname?” Rio was rattling off question after question as the food around them dwindled. Dinner was heavenly, but Hobie was starting to think it was a gentle send-off into the new hell.
“It’s…kinda a preferred one? Not for my gender or anythin’, just like it better.” Hobie rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug off the weight of Rio’s gaze; it was not working. Miles held his hand through all the questions as they sat on the couch, getting into the finer details of their relationship with his parents.
“And what about your laces, huh? Blue?” Jeff’s tone was hard and questioning, brows pressed in a firm line. It was a question Hobie knew was coming, but it still caught him off guard.
“Tha’s…bit personal, yeah? I don’ got any problems with you specifically.” The punk knew he had to answer carefully. He wasn’t about to lie, but he knew he wanted to make a good first impression. “Yer a good dad from what I’ve heard, and ya seem like a good man.”
Jeff hummed, nodding slightly. He wasn’t exactly pleased with the small deflection, but he could tell the boy was being honest. That would have to do, for his son’s happiness, if nothing else.
They’d gotten through most of the general questions at that point, but Rio wanted a few more answers—answers she knew she wouldn’t get with Miles around.
“Hey, papa, can you go out and grab some coquito from the bodega?” Hobie could hear the smile in Rio’s voice, but he felt that something was off. “Gwen loved it when she was here. I want your boyfriend to try some, but we ran out this morning.”
“Now? It’s almost closing—” Miles quickly shut his mouth as he received “the look” from his mom; yeah, there was no arguing. With an apologetic peck to his boyfriend’s forehead, Miles went to grab his shoes. “Back in twenty, mami.”
As soon as the door closed, Rio’s smile fell into a firm frown. Hobie could feel the appraisal in her gaze; it unsettled him just enough to make him sit up straighter. He was no fan of authority figures, but Rio… Her, he needed to please. For Miles’s sake.
“What are your intentions with my son?” Her crossed arms were somehow more intimidating than a mutated supervillain charging him head-on.
“I… I wanna make ‘im happy, treat ‘im right. Miles and Gwenny both.” Hobie ran his tongue over the inside of his lip piercing, trying not to let his nerves show in his body language. “They’re the best parts of my life right now.”
“Hmm. And where were you three last week? Miles always gets hives when he has strep, and I didn’t see any on him when he video called us.”
Bollocks.
Hobie knew exactly where they were that day. The trio was set to meet Jeff and Rio all together, but a villain had started causing havoc in Gwen’s universe. They had to dip, and Miles came up with the strep throat alibi. They should’ve known better than to let him fabricate his own excuse, given his track record.
“He, uh…made a quick recovery, yeah? Real strong immune system and all that.” Hobie knew he sounded ridiculous; Miles’s horrid lying skills must have been rubbing off on him.
“Hobie, sweetie, I’m a mother. You can’t lie to me about my baby and expect me to buy it.” She didn’t even sound mad—just done with the fibbing. “The truth, please.”
Well, Hobie was screwed. He couldn’t think of anything plausible and convincing under that pressure, and the truth definitely wouldn’t fly.
“I…can’t do that, Mrs. Morales. I can jus’ promise it wasn’t bad, and we weren’t doin’ anything illegal. I’d never do somethin’ to put ‘im or Gwen in harm’s way, I swear.”
Jeff didn’t like that answer. He could tell the boy wasn’t lying, but that didn’t make the deflection go down any better.
Rio, on the other hand, was formulating a plan. Her baby wasn’t getting into anything illegal or wrong, yes, but she didn’t like secrets. Luckily, she knew how to wring secrets out of antsy teenagers.
“Hm. Jeff, grab him.”
“Wha’— Oi!” Hobie yelped as a pair of strong arms hooked under his own, pulling him back against a sturdy chest. His immediate instinct was to fight back, but he knew that wasn’t smart; a lanky teen overpowering a strong, full-grown cop would raise more questions he couldn’t answer.
“I’m gonna give you one last chance, kid. Tell us where you were.” Rio cracked her knuckles, smirking at the loud pops; she wasn’t a hundred percent sure that was going to work.
“You ain’t ‘bout ‘a hurt me.” Hobie said it as a statement; he knew Miles’s parents would never do that to him. However, the look in Rio’s eyes unsettled him, and rightfully so. He still wasn’t talking, of course; just a little intimidated.
“True. I’d never hurt you.” With a small tisk, she moved closer, sitting right next to the restricted teen. “I just want the truth.”
Before Hobie could claim innocence again, ten fingers descended on his sides. They dug in, drilling and vibrating into the bit of give his taunt skin offered.
The punk clamped his mouth shut, ducking his head as best as he could. It took all his willpower not to kick out or use his strength to get away.
“C’mon, Hobie. You can’t stay quiet forever.” Rio huffed fondly, shaking her head. Miles would’ve instantly started giggling; it was rare for her to have a challenge. Luckily, she was a very determined woman.
Hobie growled as her hands moved upwards, approaching his underarms. Any noise was better than giggling, he figured. The invasive buzzing feeling shot through his nervous system, making him twitch and squirm.
“Kid’s resilient, I’ll give him that.” Jeff chuckled, keeping a firm hold of Hobie. He could tell the boy really didn’t mind it; otherwise, he would be more tense, yelling at them to stop. Right then, he was just…trying to hold out. It was almost cute, though Jeff wasn’t about to let his walls down that easily.
“He can’t macho his way out of this,” she teased, her nails slowly inching closer and closer to his pits. By the way he thrashed, she could tell it was a bad spot. “Last chance, kid. It’s better to tell us now rather than later.”
Hobie kept his mouth defiantly shut, trying not to look as embarrassed as he felt. Being ticklish wasn’t something he was ashamed of, but those were his boyfriend’s parents; he needed to impress them, not make them think he’s adorable or easy to take down.
“Fine. Your funeral.” With a mock sympathetic sigh, Rio shot her fingers up to the poor teen’s pits. Her nails scribbled with just enough force to really tickle while taking extra care not to hurt him.
“SsssSSHIHIHIHIT!” Hobie nearly screamed at the sudden change, almost bucking Jeff off him with the force of his jolt. It was nearly impossible to contain himself with those evil nails scribbling into his hollows.
“Damn!” Jeff chucked as he tightened his grip, planting his feet on the floor. Hobie was a lot stronger than he looked. At least he could protect Miles and Gwen if need be, though both of them would most likely be more than fine. “What’re they feeding you, kid?”
“Not much. I can feel his ribs,” Rio clicked her tongue disapprovingly, already thinking of a lecture for Miles on forcing his boyfriend to eat more. “He’s a lot more ticklish than he looks.”
“STOHOHOHOP SAHAHAYIN’ THAHAT STUHUHUHUFF!” The punk could feel his ears burning as he tried and failed to stay stoic. The dam had burst; he was done for. Them talking like he wasn’t there was somehow making it all worse.
“I love how he thinks he has a choice in this.” Ignoring Hobie’s protest, Rio tweaked his side; the little squeal the action received made her chuckle. “Just tell us, Hobie.”
“I’m startin’ to feel a little bad for him.” Jeff’s smile was both sympathetic and amused as he watched Hobie’s descent into madness. He’d been married to Rio for a good handful of years; he knew her tickle-monster tendencies all too well.
“Remember that he’s hiding where he was with our son.” Rio scolded him, but her words had no real animosity. She trusted Hobie when he said they weren’t doing anything wrong. She just needed to know what was so serious that her baby would lie to her.
“C’MOHOHOHON! snort IHI CAHAHAHAN’T!”
Before Rio could explain the simple way to end his misery, the door lock clicked open. Hobie was immediately released as Miles’s parents casually settled back down on the couch.
“They didn’t have the size we normally buy, so I got—…” Miles stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. Hobie looked like he’d just finished the most intense workout of his life, his mom’s smile was an attempt at innocence, and his dad was smiling. When he left, the man wouldn’t quit glaring at Hobie. “What happened to my boyfriend?”
“We were just talking about last week,” Rio shrugged, pretending the teen beside her wasn’t struggling for each breath. “When you had strep, remember?”
“Oh…” Understanding and sympathy bloomed on Miles’s face as he met Hobie’s eyes. The punk gave a small nod, letting him know he was okay—just exhausted. His parents had apparently made their point: lying to them was a bad idea.
“Didn’t I send you out for coquito?” Rio broke the silence, the edge in her smile fading in an offer of peace. She’d let them get away with their secrets that one time. “Hobie’s a nice boy, and he could use a drink.”
“Uh— Yeah, I’ll, uh, get some cups.” Miles quickly pulled the bottle from his bag, taking the olive branch gratefully.
As the non-alcoholic version of the drink was poured, Hobie realized a few things. One: he was going to teach Miles how to lie before their next mission. And two: he would never, ever make the mistake of underestimating the Moraleses again.
