At HQ, some things are just… known.

The alarms. The portals. The fact that if Hobie Brown is leaning against a railing somewhere, then Jasmine is either beside him or about five seconds away.

Right now, you’re beside him.

Boots hooked into the metal bar, shoulder pressed into his arm, both of you watching the chaos below like it’s background noise. Hobie’s guitar is slung across his back, idle fingers tapping against the neck in an unconscious rhythm. Your knee knocks into his thigh every time you shift.

Neither of you moves away.

Across the platform, Miles, Gwen , and Pavitr are pretending not to watch.

They are failing.

“So,” Pavitr murmurs, eyes flicking between the two of you. “Do you think they know?”

Gwen snorts. “They have to know.”

Miles squints. “Know what?”

Gwen tilts her head. “That they act like an old married couple with unresolved tension?”

Miles watches as Hobie leans down, says something low in your ear. You smile. Hobie smiles back before he can stop himself.

“Oh,” Miles says. “Ohhh.”

Down below, someone trips over their own webline. You and Hobie react in sync—both groaning, both rolling your eyes.

“Called it,” you mutter.

“Told you,” Hobie replies, smug.

His arm drapes behind you along the railing. Not touching. Almost touching. Close enough to feel warm.

Miles clears his throat loudly.

Neither of you look over.

Pavitr cups his hands around his mouth. “Hobie! Question!”

Hobie sighs without turning. “If this is about rules or authority, I’m not interested.”

“It’s not,” Pavitr says cheerfully. “It’s about you two.”

That gets your attention. You glance over. Hobie does too, brows already knitting.

Gwen crosses her arms, smirking. “We were just wondering-”

Miles jumps in, grinning, unable to help himself. “—when are you two gonna make ou—”

Hobie moves instantly.

An arm shoots out, hand clamping over Miles’ mouth with zero hesitation.

Miles muffles a protest. Gwen laughs outright. Pavitr looks thrilled.