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The sun had begun its descent behind the New York skyline. The crescent moon acted as a tower’s gleaming axehead as it rose from the depths of the heavens. Distant balls of fire feintly dappled the cosmic, azure abyss, Peter had returned from there only days ago.
“Weren’t you using a bow and arrow the last time I saw you?” Peter said, perched on a rooftop’s railing when he reached his latest fling’s scouting post.
Said fling was on his stomach, his legs spread wide in the prone position, as he looked out into the skyscraper-laden horizon, his rifle’s barrel sandwiched between two of the railing’s bars. No response.
Peter grunted and moved in front of him while on the railing, leaning over to block his sight in the scope. “You aren’t going for headshots, right? Because I swear if you went all ‘Instant-Kill’ after I was gone for barely more than a week…well, we’d have to have a pretty serious convo about that!”
Peter chuckled when he heard him groan at those words. Peter got off the railing and landed behind him. Peter’s eyes slid up his physique: from admiring the musculature of his calves and strong thighs, to the plumpness of his ass in those skin-tight black pants.
He remembered every night he spent squeezing the other’s waist, listening to the noises that came through soft lips as Peter pulled his hair. Peter’s hands would slide up his athletic stomach so easily, to his chest just to give his neck the most gentle squeeze as— jeez had it really been so long since he shared a bed with someone: Oh. A voice (his?) in his head said and Peter glared behind his mask in reply. What? They’re your thoughts, not mine, the voice said, chuckling. Is that me …? Peter took a knee next to his fling and stared down at him as the lenses of his mask eased their ire. “What are you looking at, Double-J?” he said softly.
“Next target,” he said, adjusting the rifle in his arms, keeping himself comfortable.
Peter bit his lip as he watched the man’s ass shift whenever he moved. “Who’s on the hit list today?” he said, trying to ease his own tension.
“There’s no list and there’re no hits. We’ve been over this. I'm not an assassin,” he said. “But, uh … I’m looking at Vensberg.”
“There better not be any hits”—Peter glared—“or else.” He said. “And again? … Vensy just doesn’t learn does he?” he stood, folding his arms as he leaned against the protective railing of the roof.
“You kidding, Pauchok? You think some corporate fucker like him will stop trying to—?” His words were caught in his throat as he finally turned on his side to see Peter’s new outfit. “—new suit?” He tilted his head.
Peter smirked, resting his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the railing, letting his biceps naturally flex with how tight his suit got. “You like it? I think black looks good on me.”
Joseph chuckled and turned back on his stomach, not yet acknowledging how Peter’s eyes seemingly followed his every move. “I think so … Then again any color that looks good on me generally looks good on you.”
“Am I distracting you with how good I look, JoJo?”
“Only a little,” he said. His nanotech helmet disassembled into his suit, letting the warm evening breeze flow through his dark hair. “Ugh, it always looks like a mess after I take this thing off.”
“Your hair looks better when it's messy,” Peter said. “So …”—he trailed off, looking to the side—“What are you doing after this whole...non-assassination-assassination-thing, Scaley-Boy?” Peter sat on the railing, leaning forward to peer down at the sharpshooter.
Joseph grinned and turned back to his scope, hiding his bright eyes from Peter, deep and rich as diamond mines. “Pete, I adore you, really I do, but I’m trying to concentrate here. I’m just gonna … bust one of his kneecaps. A warning that if he keeps trying to make murder bots, things will get worse for him … after that well—”
Peter interjected: “—You know the twins will eventually come after us, right.”
He grunted at the Spider. “And? One, the Patterson’s always come after us. And two, I’ve got nothing planned. Why? Did you wanna get food after this, or something else?”
When the other hero was distracted with lining up his shot Peter stared at his ass yet again. “Yeah, ‘food …’ Let’s go with that.” Peter looked out towards the building Joseph was aiming at. “How do you do that? Not the whole ‘making sure your shot doesn’t miss’ thing. That’s just simple math where you’re adjusting for distance, wind speed, temperature, weather, the—”
“You know, for someone who prefers non-lethal methods, you sure know a lot about sniping,” he said, adjusting the magnification of his scope.
“Aw, thanks. Math’s a killing.” Peter said, chuckling. He lied on his back next to Joseph and stared at him. “I was referring to the whole ‘lying here for hours on end waiting for the perfect shot’ thing. How do you do it? I get antsy just waiting for pizza delivery.”
“Is that why you keep fidgeting; or did you just miss me that much?” Joseph said, spreading his thighs further as he peered through his scope once more.
Peter bit his lip, watching his trigger finger. When the firing mechanism was pulled, the rifle gave the faintest kickback on its bipod—Peter was able to ignore what little sound that had been made. “Tease,” he said, grumbling. He gave Joseph a smack on the ass, and he chuckled at Joseph’s yelp. “So, now that Venny has a bullet wound that will no doubt cost thousands of dollars—”
“—He has great insurance he won’t notice it at all—”
“—and will be in bed for a while … wanna go get lunch or something? There’s this new place that opened up down the street. I hear they’ve got good fries, pastries, and donuts too. We could grab a bite … then do other types of biting.”
Joseph stood, folding the stock of his weapon and slinging it over his shoulder. He yawned, looking at the man in front of him. “I don’t know, Bug—”
“—I’m an arachnid, Scales—”
Joseph, refusing to be interrupted, spoke over Peter: “—If I wanted pastries I would just make them myself at home. Why exactly should we go out for pastries?”
“That’s half the fun isn’t it? You’re not just getting pastries. You’re getting pastries with the friendly neighborhood Extraordinary Spider-Man.” Peter stepped closer and grabbed Joseph’s hand. “C’mon, I know you can’t resist a good cream donut. We haven’t hung out for over a week and I, well, um—” Peter lost his own words.
“You don’t have to say it.” Joseph reached for the fabric of the man’s black mask. His fingers flinched back, watching the mask make a seam from the nose down. “Well that’s new.”
When Peter was about to speak, explain just how incredible the suit was, how it reacted to his thoughts, he melted into the warmth he had been missing. His eyes slid closed as he wrapped his arms around Joseph’s waist, letting him press against his chest. His lips parted out of instinct and he felt the thick length of the man’s tongue press into his mouth. He would probably never get used to that—sure, his tongue was useful for other things. But, getting it shoved down his throat was not necessarily on Peter’s list of top ten things he enjoyed in life. Top fifteen, maybe.
Peter’s hands traveled down, squeezing Joseph’s ass and he smirked when he heard him yelp in surprise once more, but nonetheless pressed his plush ass into Peter’s hands. He leaned back against the railing to stabilize himself and he kissed back, swallowing the taste of desire. There was an unshakable heat between them, one which made itself known with each of Joseph’s desperate breaths and Peter’s own quiet, deep groans. Peter pulled back, staring at the pair of wetted lips. “Someone missed me, eh?” Peter grunted, squeezing his ass yet again.
Joseph squirmed as he was groped. “Unlike you, I can admit it,” Joseph said. His teeth caught a corner of Peter’s mouth, carefully biting warm flesh.
Peter chuckled and moved Joseph from him, letting his mask cover his face once more. “C’mon, let’s go get some food … then we can take this back to my place.”
“Why your place?” Joseph said, folding his arms with a playful grin.
“Because I’m not swinging all the way over to Greenpoint just to swing back to my place in East Village. I can’t put too much mileage on the webs.”
Joseph stared at Peter, his face both blank and distressed all at once. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay, will you be giving me cab fare tonight?”
“No,” Peter said, blunt as ever. He put his hands up in surrender when Joseph’s face began to blaze crimson “wait, wait, wait, let me finish! I was gonna say … maybe you should, um, well …”
“Yeah, um, I’m fine with that,” Joseph said. Peter smiled, there had always been a reassuring telepathy between them. He leaned in, his mask parting once more for another kiss—“But if I stay at your place tonight, I at least wanna be taken to the Brooklyn Bridge tomorrow. Deal?”
“Deal, Lizard-Boy. Now hang on.”
“Hang on—?” his eyes went wide when he felt Peter's hands secure around his waist and lift him over his shoulder. “Oh no! Pete, wait, wait!” Joseph screamed as Peter’s feet left the ground, his helmet covering his face. “Parker, I’m gonna kill you.” He held onto him tighter and went quiet, his eyes shutting as wind whipped around his helmet.
Peter held the man under his thighs with one arm as he swung through the blitz of New York’s screaming evening traffic. The steel ocean’s horns cried out.
“Ooph! ” Peter held onto a building, making sure Joseph did not fall. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Some of these pigeons have sky-rage tonight. We’re almost there though. You’re gonna love this place, I swear.”
They landed on a rooftop and Peter set Joseph on his feet. “That wasn’t so bad was it? I don’t think it was”
“Warn me next time!” Joseph said, squeezing Peter’s wrist. “Jesus … almost made me sick.”
“I think he’d make me sick too. But you should change. We’re here.” Peter’s suit dissolved into his collar, leaving his neck exposed with a black v-neck. The black pants of his suit became a pair of blue jeans with a black canvas belt. His feet were cradled by black slip-on sneakers and at last a red coat. His hair fixed itself on its own. “Ready.” He grinned.
Joseph grunted. He ruffled his hair to give it the familiar messy look rather than appearing flat from his helmet. As his nanotech suit disassembled into a pair of black boots, his civies exposed themselves. He was clad in a white turtleneck which made his skin light bronze in comparison; over this was a green cargo vest along with leather-belted khaki cargo pants. “And now I’m ready.”
Peter headed over to one of the ladders after looking at Joseph’s outfit. The way his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink under the simplest gaze always amused Peter. He grinned before speaking: “How do you hide all those pockets under a skin tight suit?”
“Family secret,” Joseph said, coming down the ladder with him.
Peter, reaching the alleyway before his date. He folded his arms and watched the man’s muscled rear press against his cargo pants. “Well, isn’t that a pretty view?”
“Shut it!” Joseph said, hoping off the ladder at the last few rungs.
Peter chuckled and headed out of the alleyway, a million buildings lighting the streets. He stared at the unassuming restaurant. Modern and grayish with LEDs lighting up the outside dining area, blocked off from the rest of the street; the atmosphere within breathed with brown tiled floors and yellow stucco walls. He stopped when he felt someone slide their hand under his arm, holding it. Peter glanced to his side and chuckled when he spotted the taller man with their arms laced together. “What? Are we a middle school couple now?” he said, chuckling until he spotted the faintest frown on Joseph’s face. He leaned up, kissing the man on his cheek. “Never gonna get over you being taller than me. I hate it.”
“You make up for it in other ways,” Joseph said. His brilliant eyes met Peter’s, a flicker of mischief behind them. He leaned down, whispering in Peter’s ear. “I can think of several of those ways, actually.”
Peter chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re bold tonight, Joe.” He opened the door with his other hand and propped it open with his foot so they could shuffle inside without unlinking their arms.
“This place is nice, how’d you find it?” Joseph said.
“Well. I was swinging over to you when I remembered this place was supposed to open, like, a week ago,” Peter said.
“So, why did you say I would like this place? Looks like your typical trendy pastry restaurant.”
“Joey!” a woman said from their side.
Joseph and Peter craned their heads and Peter grinned when he spotted Joseph’s wide smile. “Franie!” Joseph said, letting go of Peter to approach his friend. “How are you? Oh my god it’s been months!”
“That’s why,” Peter said, but his partner seemed to not hear him with how excited he was.
“Good! What’s been going on?” She looked over Peter. “I like this one more than the last one,” she whispered
Joseph rolled his eyes. “Yeah, me too … I’ve just been working on my dissertation. same old, same old. You?”
“Well,” she said, holding out her hand to let him see the ring on her finger. “You’re looking at the soon to be Mrs. Dillon.”
“Oh my god, no way—Max proposed?” Joseph’s mouth hung open, his huge hand holding hers. When she nodded his grin only widened. “That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, her eyes shifting to the floor soon before looking at both men. “But, you guys came for food, not to hear me talk. What can I get you?”
“You already know what I’d kill for,” Joseph said.
“I can’t make them the way your mom does, but we do have cream donuts. How’s that?” When Joseph gave her a nod of approval, she looked at Peter. “What would you like?”
“You got wheatcakes?” Peter said.
“I’ve got a stack of four wheatcakes with butter and syrup with a side of sausages straight from Canada with your name on it.”
“You’re starving me here. I’ll have those, please,” he said, chuckling. Peter watched the bronze skinned woman make her way into the back area of the restaurant. Her curvaceous frame had stuck itself in Peter’s mind. He would have sworn his Spidey-Sense was tingling when he saw Joseph from the corner of his eye. “W-what?” Peter said, looking over.
“Nothing?” Joseph said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m gonna grab us a table.”
“Okay,” Peter said, his chest still tight as he looked at the taller man.
“Are you … mad at me or something?” Peter said, not meeting Joseph’s gaze.
“No, why would I be mad?” He put away his phone, staring at Peter’s slouched figure.
“I don’t know I just—” Peter leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. “I got a feeling, y’know. Is this because I was looking at Francine?”
“N-no,” Joseph said, his cheeks pink and his face smeared with a frown. “It’s fine I get it, she’s attractive.”
“Are you sure …?”
“Pete, we’ve been over this before. It’s fine.”
Peter sighed, his eyes falling closed. “Alright. But if you just wanna leave, I under—” Peter fell silent as a pair of lips connected with his, his eyes fluttered open only for a second, his face flushed from surprise, his eyes closed again, melting into the gentle embrace.
Just as soon as Peter settled into it, the taste of cherry lip balm was pulled from him. “I’m not going anywhere, Peter.”
‘Peter’ wow, that’s how you know he’s serious, he thought. Peter placed his hand over Joseph’s and his eyebrows raised, only to furrow together and lower as Francine placed their food in front of them.
“Here we are, got four cream donuts for Joe, and a wheatcake meal for his … boyfriend?” she raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t sure what he was to you when he came through earlier.”
“It’s complicated. Let’s leave it at that,” Joseph said. “The donuts look good though. When did you start running a restaurant?”
“Max’s dad was retiring so I figured ‘why not just buy him out and start my own thing?’ and here we are.”
Joseph’s raised eyebrows knitted together and he nodded. “Alright then. Glad I can support my local businesses. Especially when it’s someone I know,” he said. Joseph took a hold of a donut, his teeth sinking into the warm, doughy-goodness, smearing his pink lips with white sweetness. “ Wow. that’s incredible … Wait, you said he came to you earlier?”
“Yeah, he wanted you to see me again so he dropped through.”
“All of this was a surprise?” Joseph asked, when Francine nodded, he looked at Peter, flushed, his lips smeared with cream.
Peter bit his lip and sat back, cutting his wheatcakes as his face warmed. F—why is this happening to me of all people? He slid the first piece of wheatcake in his mouth, occasionally glancing over at Joseph. His fist was white-knuckled, squeezing the life out of his fork and shifting his gaze to and from Joseph, who was licking his painted lips clean. This is gonna be a long meal … worth it though.
Warmth. Sweet boy. To Need and to Hunger. Take … him—had his conscience abandoned him? Why had he resorted to such base instincts and feelings—not attraction itself, but this unrefined, primal ache for—? As they entered his dark apartment Peter closed and locked the door behind him. The walls are thin as cotton sheets. So? Peter made his way over, his hands snaking around Joseph’s waist. Only now, as their lips bonded, heat against heat, did Peter truly pick up on Joseph’s scent—smoldering circuitry and green apples. God, I’d kill for this man. Who said that — ?
His own thoughts struck him briefly, stunted by the warm pair of lips he had claimed as his own so many times before. Peter’s mouth was ripped from Joseph’s without warning. “JoJo?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“Pete, what the hell is that?” Joseph said, gesturing at the shadow of a viscous black tendril that was protruding from Peter’s jeans. It hung itself limp as if punished for misbehaving.
“Um … well, that's new; but the suit reads my thoughts, so it had to be following them.” A suit could not have a mind of its own, after all. Surely. “Just kiss me,” Peter said, meeting him halfway.
Joseph removed his cargo vest. “Fine, be careful with those things though … perv.” Joseph smirked, snaking his arms around Peter’s neck again.
Peter’s hands smoothed down Joseph’s strong, stable back, squeezing his ass soon. He let out a faint growl in the kiss, pressing Joseph into the bed with his hardness against his crotch. He did not seem to notice the pair of tendrils that had tugged Joseph’s pants down to his knees as Peter stood between his legs, his hands against the bedspread as he stood over Joseph. Peter pulled back from the kiss and his teeth attacked Joseph’s neck, his tongue sliding against warm flesh between eager sucks at his nape. “You like that?” Peter breathed out shakily, squeezing his ass again. As Joseph’s bare ass filled his hands beneath the silky fabric of his boxer-briefs, he felt his fingers rub against a slippery substance that helped him press a finger inside of him. Peter listened to Joseph’s soft gasps as his fingers pressed inside, thrusting slowly. “See? The suit’s useful!”
“Shh.” Joseph grunted, pressing his lips to the side of Peter’s as he felt those fingers slide deeper inside of him, spreading him apart.
The tendrils pulled Joseph’s pants off completely, tossing them to the side, and Peter pressed his fingers further into the squeezing hole. Peter’s fingers withdrew soon, wrenching a drawn out groan from Joseph. His firm hands slid up Joseph’s thighs and his head dipped between them, staring up under the faint glow of moonlight. His teeth attacked the thin, soft cotton of Joseph’s boxer-briefs, pulling them down by the waist band till they came to the floor unceremoniously. Sinking to his knees, Peter secured his hands around Joseph’s hips, his nails digging into skin as he hoisted the strong pair of legs onto his shoulders. He groaned as he felt a set of fingers thread themselves into his hair, pulling gently. “Something wrong, JoJo?” he said.
“Nope … I just like pulling your hair,” Joseph said, chuckling. He gave another gentle pull, watching as Peter’s wetted lips took him in slowly, sucking intently at the head. Joseph let out a groan. “Ah-fuck-Pete.” His back arched and he grabbed Peter’s neck with his free hand. “Easy down there!”
Peter, pulling back, stared at him, a subtle smirk on his face. His lips peppered gentle kisses against pastel pink skin. “Flustered, baby?” he said. He captured the man’s pride yet again, causing Joseph to groan as he was enveloped in the wet heat. Peter stared up at Joseph’s half-mast eyes as he took him further in, his tongue sliding against the underside as he hollowed his cheeks to suck harder.
“Fucking—” Joseph leaned forward, his hand yanking Peter forward. “Fuck sake, Pete.” While Peter’s head was buried between his thighs, Joseph leaned back again, resting on an elbow as he pulled Peter’s hair. “Shit, You’re amazing.”
Peter’s eyes slid closed and he slowly withdrew Joseph from his mouth, his tongue rubbing against the head as he pulled away. “Spectacular is the adjective I’d use.” Peter’s lips were darkened, wet with saliva. His slick lips parted and he took him half way in again, sucking sloppily. He groaned out as the hand in his hair pulled him against Joseph’s crotch. He looked up at him. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he sucked harder again.
He felt his fingers slipping as Joseph’s thrusts began, rutting against his face. Just as he wanted a more secure grip, he watched black goo curl around his fingers and secure itself, making it easier to handle Joseph’s eager thrusts. Peter’s tongue slid against the meat carefully as Joseph rutted against him. He grunted as his hair was pulled harsher and he bobbed his head in time with Joseph’s thrusts soon, his tongue salivating against the girth in his mouth. Peter did not gag as Joseph hit the back of his throat, he pressed his forehead against the man’s lower abdomen. His tongue slid around the shaft, he attempted to move one of his hands but his shirt, and Joseph’s mindless thrusts prevented him. Peter felt cold air kiss his bare chest and thighs … the suit had dissolved into a simple pair of white briefs.
The black goo, while remarkably smooth, stuck to Joseph’s skin firmly. He arched his back with a groan, keeping Peter buried between his thighs as he listened to the faint noise of Peter swallowing and drool flying from his mouth, hitting his crotch. He squeezed Peter tighter between his thighs with each subsequent wet noise. “You look good down there, Webs,” he murmured, biting his lip between moans to avoid being too loud. Joseph gasped as he felt that same viscous goo press inside of his already stretched hole. His thrusts came to a slow stop, his free hand was placed over Peter’s while his partner’s hands still dug into his hips. “I’m close,” he warned, his legs spreading somewhat. The fire in him was beyond ready to break the dam.
Peter smirked, unaware that as his head eagerly bobbed, drooling around the cock down his throat, a thick tentacle had riggled its way into Joseph of its own accord, ensuring that he was opened properly. Peter freed a hand from Joseph’s hip, the black goo disappearing once more. His hand cupped Joseph’s balls, feeling his cock throb, hot and eager after Peter’s mouth-play. He rubbed Joseph’s balls gently and felt them contract and Joseph’s legs secured around his shoulders, heels digging into his back. Peter swallowed each explosion of his essence, watching Joseph’s body shake under the shockwaves of his orgasm.
Once the flood stopped, Peter pulled back, licking his lips clean before wiping his mouth. When he was about to speak, Joseph dragged Peter into the tough comforter of his bed. Even in the dingy tightness of Peter’s apartment, the room was illuminated by the flood of night lights in East Village. Eyes which were once brown and flecked with gold, had become a reptilian shape that glimmered crimson. “Babe … You’re doing that creepy thing where your eyes glow and get all … snaky.”
“Look, man”—Joseph clambered on top of Peter as he lied on his back, his ass against the bulge in Peter’s briefs—“I didn’t choose the lizard life, it chose me. I can’t help that sometimes the gecko powers are more prominent than the chameleon ones or the snake ones.” He leaned down and his lengthy tongue dragged from Peter’s chin to the corner of his mouth, licking away the white dribble he had missed, earning a quiet moan from Peter. “Yeah that’s one thing you seem to like,” Joseph murmured, leaning in as Peter’s hands grasped his hips—only to yelp as pairs of tendrils wrapped around him. “You and this damn suit.” he chuckled.
“Hey, ‘that’s one thing you seem to like,’ for all your pouty faces,” Peter said. Joseph huffed at him. His jaw hung open as a spark ran through him, a sweet moan escaping through his lips. The thunderous noise of Peter’s hand clapping against his ass left Joseph’s entire body blushing pastel pink. He hid his face in Peter’s shoulder. “Jackass …,” he said.
He squeezed Joseph’s ass. “Oh please, you love this. I know y—” Peter removed the turtleneck which had been tossed on his face “—really?” Peter said, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips pursed. He stared up at Joseph’s naked form, his hands trailing over the smooth skin of his hips.
“Lose the tighty-whities and get your ass in gear,” Joseph said, kissing Peter’s forehead.
“Someone’s bossy tonight.” Peter reached down, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of his briefs. As he touched them they disintegrated into his body with the rest of his suit, leaving him naked. “Uh …”
“Another new trick?” Joseph said, raising his hips slightly as he pressed Peter into the bed.
Peter grunted and watched the shadows of several tentacles grab Joseph by the hips, pulling him down slowly. Peter let out a deep moan, holding Joseph’s waist tighter as he felt his hole clench tight around him. “There we go. How’s that feel?” Peter’s hand touched Joseph’s cheek, watching his face for any signs of discomfort. “So good it left you speechless, eh?” Peter said.
“Webs!" Joseph said.
Sitting up, Peter’s hand moved to the man’s back and pressed their chests together. His mouth trailed down to Joseph’s neck, biting and sucking against the skin. Joseph’s arms snaked around his neck and Peter’s hands moved down to his waist once more, lifting him slowly and guiding him back down. Peter, remarkably, kept himself button-lipped as he thrusted in time with the lifts and drops of Joseph’s hips.
The sweet noises of Joseph’s moans, the frantic squeal of skin hitting skin, and Peter’s heavy breathing were all that filled the room, resonating through the thin walls of his apartment. His bed frame squeaked with every harsh slam against his lap. Peter’s hands found Joseph’s hair and pulled his head back as he thrusted up into him harder. “JoJo,” he groaned, “turn over. I need—”
Joseph’s lips crashed against his, his wet tongue sliding into Peter’s mouth. Peter moaned into the wet warmth, sucking at Joseph’s tongue. Soon, Joseph pulled back, his hands sliding from Peter’s shoulders up the nape of his neck. “Pull my hair harder …” he said. His wish granted, he let out a wheezy moan as a sharp ache of pleasure tingled through his spine with every pull at his hair.
Peter’s hand traveled down and he pushed Joseph onto his back, hovering over Joseph as he clambered on top of him. His cock ached with need, rubbing between Joseph’s thighs as he pressed down for another quick kiss on the cheek.
“You just can’t get enough,” Joseph said, smirking.
Peter rolled his eyes before turning Joseph on his stomach. “Just lift your butt for me, Scales,” Peter said, watching as Joseph’s ass rose like twin cobras awakened from a basket. The pair of supple cheeks could've hypnotized him if they tried harder. “Yeah, like that,” Peter said, his voice warm with lust. One of his hands grasped Joseph’s waist and the other took his hair. Peter leaned over, feeling the warmth from Joseph’s hole against him. “I missed this”—his breath hitches—“… missed you.” Peter slid inside of him slowly, enjoying the soft mewls Joseph let out as his ass squeezed tight around his cock.
Joseph squeezed the sheets, squirming as Peter bottomed out inside him. He pressed his hips back in a slow, wanting rut. His hands laced together with a set of gooey fingers. When he was about to speak, he let out a sharp groan within an exhale of delight as his hair was tugged at. He slumped on the bed, his hole clenching as he rode back against Peter’s rough thrusts.
Peter could feel the coil in his abdomen winding up as he buried himself deep in Joseph’s guts with every powerful thrusts. His eyes fixed on pearled mounds of flesh, watching them bounce with each of his strikes, reddening from the impact of skin on skin. Peter gave Joseph’s hair another firm pull, and the hand on his hip rose, smacking his ass. “Baby … Baby, oh my god. You squeeze me so tight,” he said. Peter hissed, holding Joseph’s waist with both hands as he felt that hole squeeze him again. His hips snapped forward harder and he leaned down, biting the shell of Joseph’s ear, earning a soft groan from him. “I’m not pulling out…”
When Joseph gave him a nod, he slammed himself in as hard as he reasonably could. The fire had pooled in him, swelling up to a bursting point, feeling the sweat between them as he ceaselessly rolled his hips into the wet heat that enveloped him. For a moment, he wondered if something were to happen, his Spidey-Sense had tingled and the world felt as if it had slowed down—then, the world shattered around him with every vehement jerk inside of Joseph. While his cock pulsed, hot as a poison, Peter spilled inside of Joseph; his body dissolved into the warm pleasure as he slumped on top of Joseph, his body jolting from the aftershocks of his climax. “Did you …?” Peter said, only to groan when he spotted Joseph’s hard-on. He lied both of them on their sides, his hand traveling south. He wrapped his hand around the sensitive organ, Joseph jolted forward into his hand.
Joseph’s hand ran down as well and he placed his palm on top of Peter. He captured Peter’s lips in a kiss as he rutted into his hand, his own free hand holding Peter’s hip tight. He moaned into the kiss, his fingernails digging into Peter’s skin, eliciting a groan.
Once Joseph had finished, his own orgasm a micro-explosion on the sheets, Peter brought his hand up to Joseph’s mouth. “Really, Parker?”
“Yup,” Peter said, smirking.
Joseph rolled his eyes before he wrapped his lips around Peter’s fingers, his lengthy tongue salivating around the digits as he cleaned them of his own seed. He pulled back soon with a content sigh, leaning into Peter’s warmth as he hugged him around the waist. “That was … nice,” he said. Joseph shut his eyes.
Before sleep could dare to envelop either of them, a slick, squelching noise was heard at the foot of the bed and in front of Joseph. They two sat up, and before the, a small, snake-like creature made of black goo with white eyes had curled itself at the foot of the bed, its slime attached to Peter’s and Joseph’s legs.
“It cleaned the sheets? Cute … but kinda creepy,” Joseph said.
Peter watched Joseph lean forward to give the sleeping creature a long stroke from its head down its back. “Why are you petting it? it’s not alive or anything.”
Joseph gave Peter a skeptical stare.
“…”
“…” Joseph turned his attention to the creature again, giving it another long pet.
“So I’ll talk to Richards tomorrow?”
“Sounds like the best course of action for our little friend here.”
Peter grimaced at that word. “You coming with?”
“Of course I am … we’re gonna need a real long shower after tonight though.”
“Yeah. We’re gonna stink in the morning,” Peter chuckled before he lied back down, looking up at the ceiling. One thought crossed his mind as he closed his eyes. What the hell have I been wearing? He fell into the abyss of sleep thereafter.