Chapter Text
A lot of things have changed recently for Peter. The choices he’s had to make… There’s not a second to breathe. They just keep asking more and more from him, more things to choose between because—
“These are way too tight.”
Peter frowns, twisting to look at himself in the makeshift mirror Sue conjured. Piles of clothes lay around the living area of his floor in the Baxter Building. The couches are heaped with them, and sitting between it all, looking smug as can be…
“Johnny picked those out,” Sue states plainly, digging through a pile of sweaters.
Glaring, Peter turns to him. Johnny smiles innocently, eyes trailing up from where he was blatantly staring at Peter’s ass. He’s been reclined on the sofa, chowing down on trail mix as Peter tries on clothes.
“No,” Peter tells him, feeling like he’s scolding the household pet.
“You look good,” Johnny raises his eyebrows, shoving more crackers and nuts into his mouth.
“I can’t go out like this.”
“Not unless you’re on my arm, at least.”
Peter shoots a web at the jar of trail mix, ripping it from Johnny’s arms as it sticks to the back of the couch. Sighing, he steps behind the partition they brought out to give him some privacy to change. Actually, correction, that Sue brought to bring him privacy. Johnny seemed a little disappointed he didn’t get to watch Peter strip repeatedly.
Despite his annoyance, Peter puts the pants in the yes pile for the next time he feels he needs to be ogled. Not that Johnny has any qualms about doing that… Now that the team knows about them, it seems like Johnny can’t get his eyes or hands off Peter.
To be fair, he hasn’t done a very good job at complaining about it.
The elevator dings open as Peter steps back out of the partition in some respectable slacks and a sweater. Lynne has come to join them, someone Peter has become acquainted with since he’s decided to stay here on 828. She seems to be master of all things. If there’s something out of Sue’s reach, it’s within Lynne’s.
While Sue is over with her, Peter swallows a sigh and turns to Johnny for approval instead.
“Well?” Peter holds his arms out.
Johnny makes a face. “Too loose. Doesn’t show off your hot bod. Where’ve your muscles gone, Pete?”
Peter resists the urge to web his mouth closed this time. “That’s the point, Johnny. This is Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. I’m supposed to seem scrawny and unassuming.”
Johnny only makes a disgruntled noise, and goes back to trying to peel his trail mix off the couch.
“I think you look great, Peter,” Sue says as she returns to his side. “Very sweet and academic.”
At her side, Lynne holds out a manila folder, looking—like she usually does—very pleased with herself. “For you, Mr. Parker.”
Peter takes it, a little scared.
Sue eases his worries before he even opens it. “You are officially a resident of Earth-828. Congratulations!”
Peter can’t help a smile—and a sigh of relief. “That’s amazing. Thank you so much, both of you.”
“It was no problem,” Lynne waves him off. “Just called in a few favors. Most of the world’s dignitaries owe me a few, you know.”
“What’s my cover story again?” Peter asks.
The past three days since Johnny convinced Peter to stay on his Earth have been a whirlwind. A very good one, but his mind is a little scrambled. He’d just resigned himself to a sad life with no future apart from the mask, and now he’s got a whole new world of possibilities.
“You were born on the Artic circle,” Sue begins. “Your parents were researchers, scientists, just like they were in your world. When you were young you bounced around research bases with them, until they died in a plane crash. Then you did the same with your aunt and uncle, who took you in. Sometime between them dying in an accident and you moving here to New York City, your documents got lost so, ta-da. New birth certificate and no connections in America.”
Peter nods, repeating the lines in his head. “Okay… Okay. I can work with that. Lying about my identity is my greatest talent.”
“Are you going to apply to ESU?” Johnny asks, turning away from where he’s blowtorching his snack free to give Peter his full attention.
He’s like that when he wants to be. It’s all just a joke until it starts meaning something to Johnny, then the full force of his big burning heart comes out. Peter has this distinct feeling that Johnny’s gonna be trying to take care of him, and he feels the need to fight it like a toddler fights their bedtime.
Peter shifts, a little nervous. “Uhm, yeah. I think so. I made it in once before so…”
That doesn’t really mean much, considering how much more advanced this world is in so many ways. No, he’s never really been the smartest person in the room, but he worries here he’ll be lagging painfully behind. Or worse, all his knowledge is horribly out of date—in the wrong direction. The last thing he wants to do is accidentally have a scientific breakthrough on a basic test.
“Good,” Johnny takes some of that overwhelming caring off of Peter. “I think it’d be good for you. And I can patrol while you’re in class.”
That one little offer sets a lump in Peter’s throat that he knows can only be cured by kissing Johnny senseless. It’ll have to wait. And well, they have time now. A later. That’s more than Peter thought to ask for merely a week ago.
“Thanks,” Peter can’t get it out in more than a whisper.
Johnny distractedly gives him a thumbs up—like he doesn’t even know how much that means to him. He’s just back to trying to burn the webbing off his trail mix jar. Peter resists the sudden urge to web his ass to the couch too.
Soft hearted idiot.
“Well, you’ll need your general education degree first,” Sue reminds. “But we really are happy to just make one—”
“No, I’ll take the test,” Peter insists. “I want to. I… I really appreciate your generosity so much, Sue, and all your hard work, Lynne. But I can’t just coast off your good name and favors. I want to do what I can by myself, y’know…”
He really worries for a second that he’s going to get a scowl from Sue. She’s trying so hard to help him out, and here he is telling her he doesn’t want it. Well, not that he doesn’t want it. It’s just… he wants Peter Parker to be a person again, not a puppet.
Sue just smiles, somewhat fondly. “And I admire that. We’ll get you the address so you can go down to the testing center yourself. If you want full immersion into being a civilian, I can have Johnny drive you.”
“Do I get a say in this?” Johnny grumbles—just for show.
And also just for show, Peter webs his mouth shut. He flops back dramatically on the couch from the blow, like Peter just slung a baseball directly into his teeth. It was much more the force of a wad of tissues, but whatever. There’s a lot of muffled yelling, and Peter rolls his eyes.
“I can take the subway, thanks,” He says dryly, glaring at Johnny.
Luckily, Sue doesn’t seem at all bothered by Johnny and Peter’s… rapport. He’s not entirely sure when Sue found out about… Yeah, that. The thing neither of them have really talked about or defined in any meaningful way. Which is totally fine.
It’s just that Peter gave up his whole reality, at least partially for Johnny, and he’s pretty sure they’re not even boyfriends.
But then again, when has anything with Johnny been easy? If it’s a struggle he wants, it’s a struggle he will get. Also it’s hard to throw accusations when Peter has also not initiated that conversation…
“Peter, try these together,” Lynne holds out a couple hangers from the pile.
It’s a sharp button up with a floral vest. It’s got a matching tie. Peter tries very hard to convince himself he’s not dressing like a grandpa, this is just how people dress in this time. Well, one must do what one must do to fit in.
Peter’s been given a chance to get a life back—he won’t squander it again.
✦
They’ve been out again, just Peter and Johnny. Since they got back to 828 it’s been a whirlwind, but this? Just the two of them flying through the city? This is everything Peter stayed for.
There hasn’t been much trouble today, and all the racing famishes them, so Johnny treats Peter to a street hotdog. He’s a romantic like that. They sit on the edge of an apartment building's roof, just bickering back and forth like normal.
And how nice it is to have a normal again.
Peter’s got his mask off, figuring no one can see up here anyways, and if they could, there’s no way to recognize him. He’ll enjoy the last dredges of not having the second half of his identity to worry about for now. Time is running out for that, but it’s exciting. He can be a person again.
Of course, Johnny’s got his eyes all over Peter like he always does when he’s barefaced. It makes him oddly shy. They’ve done so much, gone quite a few bases, but Johnny looking at him is still enough to make him blush. Silly.
It’s not unexpected when Johnny leans in, trying to catch his lips. But Peter will always be faster, leaning out of his reach. All the terrifying parts of… this have come into focus for Peter. They’re too exposed.
“Not here…” Peter tries weakly.
Johnny frowns, still in his space. “What do you mean?”
“I mean someone might see us from here.”
Something sad and bitter lays in the set of Johnny’s jaw as he sits back. An instinct nearly as strong as his spider-sense is telling Peter to fall all over him, apologizing, kissing that look off his face. But Peter has to be better than that. It’s up to him to keep Johnny safe.
“Oh,” Johnny mutters. “Okay. If you don’t want to be seen with me—”
Peter nearly panics. “No! That’s not it. Really. It’s just… Johnny, what are they gonna say if they see you kissing a guy?”
Johnny just stares at him for a second, computing. “That I really am a stud that can pull even from other universes?”
“I’m being serious. I already probably outed you to your family, I don’t need to do it to the whole world too. What happens when New York’s favorite superhero turns out to be gay?”
“Bisexual, actually.”
“Well, yes, I know that—but I didn’t know you were using those kinds of words yet, that’s cool. But you know what I mean. I’m not willing to put you through that, Johnny.”
“Put me through what?”
“Will you stop being so careless about this? I’m not going to let you commit social suicide, or put yourself in danger for this.”
“Wait, are you—” Johnny holds a hand up, pressing his eyes closed as the two tiny cogs in his brain try to move in the same direction. “You’re worried about people knowing I like guys?”
“Yes! It’d be bad enough anyways, but it’s the sixties!”
“Exactly? It’s the sixties, not the seventeen hundreds. No one cares, Pete.”
And Peter stops short at that. “What?”
“Is that seriously a problem on 616?” Johnny scowls. “Like, they’re still hung up on that?”
Peter is suddenly defensive. “It’s gotten better. Especially in the city. But it’s not—It’s different for public figures like us. People have been having a conniption for the last eighty years because Captain America might’ve had the hots for his best friend.”
“Well…” Johnny reaches over to take his hand. “You don’t need to worry here. We got over that a long time ago. Besides, most everyone knows about me. Anyone who doesn’t probably won’t be surprised.”
Peter deflates a little. “So, it’s safe? You’re safe?”
“Hey, I’m sitting next to the one and only Bug-Boy, how could I be in any danger?”
Peter scoffs, shoving Johnny with his shoulder. Johnny swings back into him, giggling as he brings a hand over to cup Peter’s cheek. He presses a sweet little kiss to his jaw that makes Peter’s heart stutter.
“Thank you for worrying about me,” Johnny smiles. “You’re cute when you get all wound up like that.”
Peter bumps their shoulders together again, and Johnny moves back to analyze their joined hands.
“Hey, did you…” Johnny is frowning again. “Did you seriously come back to stay with me even though… us might not be safe?”
Peter just blinks at him. “Well, yeah.”
Johnny smiles, shining like a star. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Peter can’t help but smile too.
✦
It’s after Sunday family dinner, which Peter is still expected to attend. He’s not sure where that lands him on the family scale, and he’s too scared to ask. What matters is that they let him hang around. Really, he can’t ask for more.
While Reed washes up, and they move to the living room, Johnny puts on a vinyl. It’s sort of his natural reaction to any mildly quiet situation. Man, he’d love the age of music streaming and wireless headphones. Talk about ‘born in the wrong decade’.
But as it is, he makes do.
It’s something a little more rock and roll than usual. Apparently, it’s some kind of unspoken code, because Ben immediately hops up and grabs Franklin. He holds the toddler close to his chest, and swings along to the beat, twisting and twirling Franklin as the boy giggles.
Peter’s view of the little show is blocked as Johnny comes up with a sly smile. Before Peter knows it, he’s being pulled up and into Johnny’s arms. Usually they just sway to the beat, but Johnny’s doing all kinds of footwork and trying to twirl Peter.
All in all, it goes about as well as Peter’s two left feet will allow.
“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Peter ends up giggling as Johnny brings him back against his chest.
“Oh, come on,” Johnny is smiling too. “They don’t teach you to dance in the twenty-first century?”
“I watched the girls at school follow along to TikTok dances sometimes.”
Johnny thinks on it for a second. “You know, I don’t think I wanna know.”
“You don’t.”
“Well, I’ll just have to teach you myself.” Johnny grins, brushing their noses. “Gotta get you ready for the dance hall.”
“Oh, please,” Peter scoffs.
“Hey, I’m serious. Cute guy like you, how could I not wanna bring you in on my arm? Show you off to the whole Upper East Side.”
Peter tries desperately to swallow his blush. “You’re fighting an uphill battle, Torchie. I could barely manage school dances, you know. I can catch a car with my bare hands, but I can’t remember which foot goes where.”
“Good thing I got time, darlin’.” Johnny grins, and god, he’s charming. “Nothing I’d rather do than be right here with you.”
Peter’s mouth is very dry, and his lips suddenly very cold—but as much as he might like to smother Johnny with kisses, they’ve got an audience. He settles for letting Johnny spin him around again. The way Johnny so easily grabs his waist only makes him dizzier.
Beside them, Ben is spinning Franklin up over his back as the little boy giggles.
“I’m not letting you do that to me,” Peter says seriously, suddenly remembering the videos of old timey dances where people start flipping around.
“Eh, we’ll see,” Johnny winks.
✦
There’s a nervousness that Peter can’t shake as they gather behind the doors of the Baxter Builder’s lobby. He doesn’t even need super hearing to be able to pick up the chatter of the press on the other side. As he stands there in full mask and suit, he fiddles with one of his web canisters.
It feels a lot more nerve wracking to announce that Peter is staying than it did that he was here. What if they’ve just been waiting for him to leave this whole time? Just putting up with him because their heroes told them to, and they were in danger without him? What if they hate him?
“Hey.”
And then Johnny’s there, pressing up against his side. His hand comes to Peter’s jaw, turning his head so their eyes meet. Even if he can’t see Peter’s face, Johnny still smiles at the sight of him. He presses a kiss to Peter’s cheek.
“It’ll be fine,” Johnny reassures—and Peter wonders when Johnny started reading him well enough to notice his nerves. “They love you here. Everyone will be ecstatic you’re staying, just like us.”
“You don’t know that…” Peter mutters, half voicing his fears and half trying to be contrarian.
“No? Let’s make a bet then. Loser has to buy the other lunch next patrol.”
“You know I have no money, right? I always have to borrow from Sue.”
“Even better.” Johnny smacks Peter’s butt. “I get to get one up on you and my sister.”
Peter moves to cuff Johnny on the back of the head, but he ducks out of the way in time, chuckling. Great, now Peter’s got this stupid blush. At least it’s something to think about that isn’t the gnawing pit in his stomach.
As one Storm moves away, another comes to replace it. Sue is at his side then, a gentle hand on his arm. Her touch is always so light, like she’s cautious entering his space, but still so grounding.
“You ready?” She asks softly.
Peter nods tightly. It’s only his reputation and future career as a superhero on the line, after all. What could go wrong?
✦
The next morning, Peter wakes up earlier than his alarm, but he’s pretty much buzzing, so he decides to screw it and just get up. When he throws the curtains open, it’s a nice day. Welcoming for his foray into the city.
It takes a mildly embarrassing amount of time to get dressed. Honestly, he can’t remember the last time he planned an outfit. For most of his life, and his time in 828, he’s just thrown on t-shirts and jeans.
But things are different here—and Peter wants to be too.
He decides on a red sweater over a white button up, with some tan slacks. It feels a little like a kid playing dress up—which is ironic, since he has no qualms about getting into his spandex. Really, he’s not hungry, but he knows he’ll get cranky if he doesn’t eat, so he makes a piece of toast. Patting his pockets probably eight times to make sure he has his—currently empty except for a fiver—wallet, he heads down the elevator.
Johnny’d offered to send him off, but Peter felt oddly compelled to do this on his own.
Despite it getting to be late summer, the air is pleasant when Peter steps outside the Baxter Building. He’s found it to be less oppressively hot here. It’s probably all that lack of global warming. God, it’s so perfect here Peter has to pinch himself sometimes.
Due to his early rising, he decides to skip the subway and just hoof it further into the city. For seemingly the first time in his life, Peter’s got time to spare. He has to pinch himself about that too.
Even if he wanted to web back to the Baxter Building for his suit, there’s no reason. It’s a perfectly crime free morning. He braces himself for sandmen and vultures every time he turns a block, but nothing.
What he does find is his face plastered all over newspapers and TVs. Or well, his mask. There’s a small uproar about the fact that Spider-Man is staying on Earth-828. Strangely, everyone is really excited about it.
Savior Is Staying, the papers read. Newscasters play clips of him helping the Four fight the six villains. One pizza place has started making spiders out of pepperoni and sausage. Kids in the street are playing superheroes and fighting about who gets to be Spider-Man.
All that makes Peter feel like he must’ve died and somehow squeaked his way into heaven.
He tries to put it out of mind as he approaches the testing center. Today, he’s not an extra-multiversal superhero—he’s a twenty-one year old who needs to prove he can do math. That’s all.
He’s too early for his appointment time but loitering around the city sounds like a recipe for disaster. Surprisingly, the ladies at the desk are super chill that he’s early. They give him some coffee and load him up into one of the testing rooms. Peter almost makes a fool of himself trying to hand over his phone, before realizing he doesn’t have one of those anymore, but saves it at the last minute.
Then, he’s just left to prove he has a high school education. No problem. Except his schooling was done some sixty years in the future. In a world that has a severely lacking school system compared to this one. But he flipped through a couple study guides and it looked mostly similar to the test he took on 616.
So, really, it all should be fine, right?
✦
Hours and a mild calculus headache later, Peter ducks into the garage.
There’s music going, because when is there not? Accompanying it is the sweet sounds of off-tune singing and metal grinding against metal. Despite himself, Peter smiles.
He slinks around the Fantasticar, perching on a nearby stool until Johnny notices him. It takes less time than Peter figured it would. Johnny does a double take, then startles nearly out of his skin. Smoke leaks from his ears.
“Jesus,” Johnny breathes. “You’re fucking quiet when you want to be.”
“No, you’re just generally loud,” Peter holds out a paper cup. “For you.”
Johnny sidles over to him hesitantly—as if this has all just been some huge ploy to poison him via coffee.
“For me?” He questions, taking the cup gingerly.
“That’s what I just said, yeah,” Peter aims for snarky but it just comes out fond, goddammit.
“For what?”
Peter frowns. “Because I was out? And I got myself some? And I know your order because of that one time we were out until 5am. But if you don’t—”
“I do!” Johnny shields the cup protectively, like Peter might take it. “That’s just… sweet. Of you. To do that.”
“Well, uh…” Peter is blushing now god-fucking-dammit. “Whatever, I guess. It wasn’t—I just—Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Johnny clears his throat, also blushing. “Uhm, how was the test?”
“Passed,” Peter shrugs. “Wasn’t that different from the one I took on my world a few years back.”
“Hey, congrats!” Johnny’s smile is wide enough to take Peter off guard. “Knew my little genius could do it.”
He reaches out to ruffle Peter’s hair, but he dodges. Except Johnny is Johnny and he’s persistent, so after about thirty seconds of that Peter finds it easier to just relent and be pet. It takes a bit of effort to scowl, considering how good it feels to have Johnny’s hands in his hair.
Time to swiftly change the subject.
Peter looks past him to the open car hood. “Is something wrong with the car, or are you making something wrong with the car?”
“Hey, now—”
Peter grins as he takes a sip of his coffee.
✦
Having Johnny up to his apartment that evening makes him oddly nervous.
They’d agreed to it in advance, having dinner together to celebrate him passing his test. Peter had been unsure about making plans that hinged on him doing well, but Johnny didn’t seem to have any doubt he’d ace it. If it didn’t go well, he reasoned, then they could get pizza and mope together. Win-win.
But now Peter did the thing, and he’d committed to making dinner, so he needs The Thing. Ben is gracious enough to help Peter steal everything he needs to make one of May’s pasta dishes, and helps carry it up to his apartment. He’s the one Peter should be buying coffee. But alas, he’s stuck on smoke for brains instead.
Johnny is chivalrous enough to change out of his grease stained clothes. He doesn’t bring a snack to ruin his appetite either, something Ben impressed was a rarity. Really a catch, that one.
The food’s nearly done by the time Johnny gets there. Sad news for Johnny, as he doesn’t get a lot of time to mess things up. Great news for Peter, who hasn’t cooked anything but SpaghettiOs for himself in the past year.
But this is special—Johnny is special.
He serves Johnny right at the table, and surprisingly, there are no jokes about him making a good housewife. There’s this awfully soft smile on Johnny’s face when he looks up at Peter. He thanks Peter sweetly. Peter has to look away, or risk turning as red as the tomato sauce.
It gets mostly normal then, as they eat and Peter quizzes Johnny on the GED test. Honestly, ole flamebrain doesn’t do too bad. Yeah, his math needs work—a lot of work. All his sciences do. But predictably, he’s an English whiz. Not to mention his Spanish far outpaces Peter’s. Stupid smart genius idiot.
Once they’re done, Johnny stands to collect the dishes.
“Hey, no, I’ll take care of it,” Peter protests, hopping to his feet.
Johnny frowns. “That’s not fair. You cooked, you shouldn’t also have to do the dishes. We don’t do things that way around this house.”
“Well on my floor we play by different rules.”
Johnny laughs. “Yeah, sure. Give it up, Parker, lemme take it—”
Peter stops his grabby hand, thumb rubbing against the heat of Johnny’s palm. “Just let me take care of you for once.”
There’s a lot loaded behind those words. Because Johnny saved Peter’s entire life, gave him an actual fresh start, and Peter hasn’t even really said thank you. But he’s trying. He’s trying.
And Johnny gets it—Somehow, he gets it. With a quiet smile, he relinquishes his plate to Peter and steps back. Of all the soft, disgusting ways Johnny has looked at him lately, this has to be the worst. Ears burning, Peter shuffles to the sink.
Blessedly, he’s left alone until he’s rinsing the last of the pots. Then, Johnny reappears, sidling up behind him. Pressing hot kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, and his arms wind around Peter’s waist. Humming, Peter can’t help but lean back into his warmth.
They haven’t really had a moment alone in the proper way since Peter decided to stay. Obviously, Johnny is feeling it. One of his hands reaches over to shut the water off, the other trails down.
There’s a giddy anticipation as Johnny cups him through his pants. It takes a lot to swallow his groan. Then Johnny is mouthing against the back of his neck and Peter has to moan at the feeling of that hot tongue against his skin.
Maybe it should be embarrassing how quickly he gets hard at Johnny’s mere fondling. But it’s them, and Peter has realized it’s a safe space here. That night they spent together made it plenty clear that they sort of drive each other crazy.
He doesn’t question it when Johnny turns him by the hips. As always, Peter is anxious to rut himself against Johnny. But those calloused hands, growing hotter by the second, pin him to the cabinetry. Johnny mouths at his neck as he inches toward his zipper.
And because Johnny always finds a way to take care of him, he sinks to his knees.
The cold against Peter’s dick causes him to shiver, and then gasp as Johnny runs his lips against him. Those lips trail lightly against his shaft, just enough pressure to make Peter throb. That pretty pink tongue makes its appearance to lick around his tip and Peter’s hands are suddenly digging in Johnny’s hair.
It’s a special kind of feeling when Johnny gets his mouth around Peter properly. A very strangled noise squeezes out of his tight chest. Peter is very careful not to rock himself forward like he wants to, not willing to rattle the boat when Johnny has taken him in so perfectly.
There’s a look of pure concentration on Johnny’s face as he begins his ministrations. Just like when they fucked, he takes his sweet time, tongue flicking and head bopping languidly. But Peter can’t find it in himself to be mouthy about it, too entranced watching his dick disappear into those prettily parted lips.
As Peter groans, Johnny reaches back to ghost his fingertips over his balls in a way that makes him shiver. It’s frankly painfully obvious that Johnny has done this before. An ugly sort of thing grows in Peter’s chest at the thought. Whatever. He’s got Johnny now, he reasons as his hands tighten in Johnny’s hair.
Even as slowly and reverently as Johnny works, Peter still gets pushed close all too soon. It’s that tongue. Hot and wet as it drags along Peter’s slit, in a way that has him gasping. Sinful, really.
“Hey,” Peter breathes, shaky. “I’m gonna—”
He tries to pull Johnny back by the hair, but he remains steadfast. If anything, he gets more excitable. His hands are on Peter’s hips, encouraging him to rut forward into his mouth once, twice, and then that tension in Peter’s gut bursts.
It’s a blissful white out, a temporary wiping of all his senses. And he lets himself hold onto it, because he’s safe here. There’s no shame in the pleasure. They do it to savor it.
The first thing that makes it through the haze is the feeling of Johnny still licking at his dick. It’s gone limp by now, but apparently he doesn’t care. When Peter pulls him back by the hair, this time Johnny goes with the motion. Grinning, cocky, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue—bragging that he swallowed it all.
Grabbing Johnny under the arms, Peter pulls him upright fast enough to make him squeak. He twists them, slamming Johnny’s ass into the sink cabinet. It’s hard to say who moves first—but regardless, they end up with their mouths connected. This time, it’s something vicious, all tongues and hot breaths.
Peter thinks he can taste himself on Johnny’s tongue, and that drives him a little bit mad.
Johnny’s tenting his pants, been hard since Peter was, and it’s time to stop pretending otherwise. There’s no protest as Peter disconnects their lips to go for Johnny’s zipper. In fact, the other man groans, leaning back to make himself more accessible. When Peter gets a hand around him, he’s already dripping with precum.
“Got this riled up just by sucking me off?” Peter pants.
“You should hear the sounds you make,” Johnny groans, dropping his head to Peter’s shoulder as he thrusts sloppily into his hand.
“Gotta put on a show for you, don’t I? You work so hard for me.”
“Oh, come on.”
Peter slows in his movements, suddenly eager to draw this out just like Johnny likes to.
“It’s true,” he whispers just by Johnny’s ear. “You do so much for me, baby. You make me feel so good. You’re so good, so good.”
Johnny moans, curling harder into Peter.
“I love that you’re gentle,” Peter lets his lips drag against Johnny’s earlobe. “And you take your time with me. Makes me feel like you want me.”
“I do want you.”
“And I know that,” Peter tightens his grip around Johnny. “I want you too, you know? I want you so bad, sometimes it’s hard to keep to myself. But I do because I know when we get there you’re gonna treat me just right. You’re so good.”
With that and a groan, Johnny shudders and spills in Peter’s palm. It’s hot and sticky—and not nearly as gross as the times Peter has come in his own hand. He’s staring at it as Johnny pulls back, winded.
Looking Johnny dead in the eye, he licks a strip through the mess on his hand. Johnny’s face goes so slack, Peter thinks he would come again if he could. He tries not to be cocky about it. He fails.
“I cleaned up dinner, you clean up dessert,” Peter steps back, redoing his zipper with one hand as he goes to find the washroom.
As he steps away, Johnny breathes out shakily.
“Yes sir.”