Spider-Man and Johnny Storm are sitting on top of a building, dangling their feet over the edge and looking out over the city. They're drinking a six-pack Johnny got at the 7-11 while the Vault guys were mopping up. Down in the street a car is still burning.
Spidey's mask is pulled up above his nose and Johnny can see the line of stubble along his jaw, the brown hair at the back of his neck. They're talking about the Mets, sort of. Spidey won't shut up while he's fighting, but otherwise he's a hard man to have a conversation with. Johnny figures he doesn't want to slip, to give himself away.
Johnny wants him to slip. Johnny's been hanging out in this part of town lately, hoping to run into him. And it's been working. Third fight this week and this time the beer.
Spidey takes a drink and a drop of beer runs down the corner of his mouth. He puts out his tongue and licks it away. Johnny can't look away. Johnny's almost leaning over now, almost flicking out his own tongue to touch Spidey's. Johnny's almost kissing him, sliding his arms around him and opening his mouth. Hand on the back of Spidey's head and it would only take one smooth stroke to burn away the mask without marking the man.
But really Johnny's just drinking his beer and laughing at Spidey's jokes and feeling the heat in the pit of his stomach. They smile at each other and have another beer and Johnny keeps Spidey talking while the sun goes down.
It's a start.