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Frank's hideout was closer.
This was not the first time he had dragged Spider-Man into his place after a fight, though usually Peter's head cleared quick enough that he could swing himself back to Queens to lick his wounds in peace. They had thought this would be a simple operation to take some Maggia goons off the streets, but it had turned into a clash with what looked like a goddamn cyborg. That was some Avengers bullshit.
Inside, Peter pulled his mask off quickly, drawing in a deep breath. He looked relieved even though the ship didn't exactly have great air conditioning and the kitchen smelled of burnt coffee and gun oil.
"You took a pretty heavy hit to the head there, kid. Sure you're not concussed?" Frank walked over to one of his cabinets to hang up his guns.
Peter shook his head lightly, then grimaced. "Mm, no. Gave me whiplash, nothing more. Just. Just need a minute for my neck to sort itself out." He grabbed the back of a chair.
"Come here." Spider powers or not, Frank was pretty sure the kid could get his brain sloshed around like anyone else. Peter did as told and took two slow steps to get close enough for the older man to inspect his eyes. Pupils wide enough to swallow the iris, yep. And shining with wetness - fuck, was the kid going to cry on him again?
"Yeah, you're sitting here for a few minutes or however long it takes till your head's straight. You'll fling yourself into the first wall."
"I don't feel weird," Peter muttered, blinking his eyes. "I just, just." He couldn't finish his sentence and didn't step back, instead placing his hand on Frank's scratched kevlar. And then -
- he kissed Frank.
If Frank had thought of anything complex right now, he would have thought about how this wasn't entirely, totally out of the blue. He hadn't thought anything would come of it. The kid would grow out of whatever he had developed in that pretty head of his and couldn't hide in his puppy dog eyes. Wasn't gonna happen, but it was there.
As it was, he kissed back. Chaste like a convent schoolgirl but something hot surging in his veins, urging him to pull the kid closer. He slid his cupped hands down Peter's upper arms, and then, the boy moaned into the kiss and sounded like himself and Frank's head cleared a fraction and he pushed the kid back instead. Peter stumbled, but Frank's hold kept him upright.
"Kid, whatever that was, you don't wanna go there," he said with a voice without edge, not a warning, just a fact being laid out. This was not a good idea. Peter had had his skull damn near crushed.
"Frank, I need this, please. I need you. It'll help -"
"Like hell I am what you need right now." He was still not stepping back, letting Peter stay close enough that he felt his body heat.
"How do you know that?" Parker's eyes were earnestly teary now, his eyelashes stuck together.
This was the moment Frank could have put an end to it. This isn't what I fucking want. You sit here quiet till you have 3D vision. See you at the office next Monday.
"I don't," he rumbled. Peter's split lip had opened because of the kiss and trickled blood. He itched to wipe it away from his chin.
"So that's a yes?" The boy's voice dropped an octave too. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.
"Fucking hell," Frank muttered, but pulled Peter closer, then kissed him with intent.
Peter melted against him. His soft, wet, hot mouth opened to welcome Frank's sweeping tongue, and his fingers tugged at the kevlar vest, while the older man wrapped one arm loosely around his slender waist. The material of his red-and-blue suit was always surprisingly rough to the touch. It clung to Peter's body like a fucking leotard.
Then, the kid's deft spider-fingers moved down his front, then they were on his belt buckle, and then he dropped down on his knees -
"What the fuck," Frank said and grabbed his shoulder - not hard - to push him back as he retreated half a step. "What do you think you're doing, kid?"
Peter's widened eyes were shining as he looked up and managed, "I'm sorry, I thought you meant, I mean, isn't this what -"
"If we're doing this, none of that cheap porno bullshit. And nothing before your head's cleared."
"But, okay, I just thought," the younger man stammered in that way that made him sound even younger. Which he was. Mask on, Frank sometimes forgot. "I thought you'd want, um, since you helped me out there," Parker finished and got up from the floor in a fluid motion.
"Oh, so it's favor for a favor?" He let the helping out part go. He was getting soft.
Peter had the gall to blush. "No, Frank, I didn't mean it that way, just - I'm just gonna go, okay, I'm feeling better. Sorry about that. See you when -"
Frank thought about letting the kid go and fling himself out of here for approximately half a second. He could see the boy's dilated pupils and his pulse beating on his neck.
"Calm down, kid." He put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "I said, if we're gonna do this, I don't want none of that. I ain't about to get a blowjob from a bleeding superhero on his knees on a dirty floor."
Peter both relaxed and tensed at that.
Frank continued, "And I want you out of that suit."
"Oh - um." Peter followed him deeper into the ship. Frank opened the bathroom door.
"Let's get you cleaned up."
This was what Frank had planned to do, anyway. He wanted to see how badly the kid had got himself beat up this time and get him patched up. Peter was rarely careful, and Frank had come to realize it was not out of recklessness. His sped up metabolism healed minor injuries quickly and he always claimed it didn't matter if he cracked a rib fighting crime, offhanded.
And after what had happened - no, after what he had done, goddamn accountability was the least he could offer - Frank had to admit he hated seeing Peter covered in his own blood.
The bathroom was small and cramped with the two of them there, but it had the best light. They both undressed outside it. Frank took off his kevlar and jacket, then decided boots and heavy trousers would go too. The suit peeled off Peter's body with ease, leaving him standing in tight boxers.
Frank had him stand up next to the shower and got out a medkit. He didn't have the fancy auto-stitch patches, so the old-fashioned way would have to do.
Whenever they met and his mask wasn't on, Peter was usually a little worse for wear, the corner of his eye bruised, lip split, little welts and cuts here and there. The combat this time had seen him take in more hits than usual. One bruise bloomed over his cheekbone. Frank cleaned them efficiently, noting how some were already closing. Handy mutation, no doubt about that.
"Okay, kid, turn. Let's get the big one fixed." Peter's suit had had a gash on his side, so something sharp and special had gone through it. If it punctured the suit, it was enough to cut super skin.
"Oh it's okay, it'll heal like the rest, just takes a little longer." Peter still turned, a feat in the cramped space, and lifted his arm. "Just a cleanup."
"Come on, that's a cut the size of Manhattan. I don't want you bleeding all over my sheets. I just changed them."
The words seemed to have an effect on Peter. He didn't protest more, kept his arm lifted and stayed still as Frank disinfected the needle, spread anesthetic cream on his skin and after a minute started stitching him back together. Peter hissed as the needle sunk in.
"Not numb enough?" Frank stopped.
"Yeah, um, the normal stuff isn't really enough for my skin. I'd need like, whatever you give to elephants. Or some aliens. It's okay, just keep going."
Frank went back to work, a few quick sutures just enough to pull the edges of the cut together in a couple places, a silver patch on top.
"All done, kid."
Before Peter turned his back to him again, Frank had time to give him a once-over. As if to mirror the new injury, there was a nasty looking yellow and purple bruise on his other side, over his kidney, the size of Frank's palm. A punch there would have put a regular man in line for an organ transplant. When Peter turned, he saw that his chest had bruises too.
"You've been working overtime this week, huh, kid?"
"Oh, DeWolff's out of town for the holidays, and whoever's doing her job is really terrible at everything so I've had to fill in much more."
Frank placed his left hand on Peter's waist, below the injury, right one on his cheek. He brushed a thumb over the kid's lower lip, hand cradling his jaw. Peter was standing steady on his feet now, though he was breathing harder than a minute ago.
"You sure you still want this?" Maybe now that his adrenaline was down, the kid was ready to run away.
Peter held his gaze and nodded. His eyelashes were so goddamn pretty too. It was not the first time Frank had thought that. "Mm-hm."
Frank nudged him to tip his head, and Peter moved eagerly, mouth opening to welcome his lips.
Peter kissed back with gusto, not feverish like before but still hungry. His hands came to Frank's chest, gripped his undershirt like trying to pull him closer, which was physically impossible. Frank slid his other hand up and down the boy's bare back, careful, marveling at the softness of his skin where it wasn't freshly cut up.
Frank felt his spine, touch light. The kid must've had him feeling like he could break him. His fingertips stopped on his lower back. Peter didn't scar but if he did, this would have been the spot.
Before Peter caught on to what his sentimental old ass was doing touching him like that, Frank's hand finished its journey. Down, down he went till he cupped a tight ass cheek. Even with Peter's boxers in between, he felt the delicious shape. Fuck, maybe the kid had the right idea.
Peter pressed closer, downright grinding his front against his, one hand on Frank's chest and other sneaking up to the back of his neck. Frank abandoned his mouth to kiss his jaw, then higher under his ear, then his neck. Hell, the kid was so smooth and smelled like something fresh, not just sweat and remnants of blood and disinfectant. Like some fucking flowers. Peter let him explore, and then turned his head to kiss him again when he returned, hooking his leg up, the sole of his foot against the wall, so he could really buck his hips against Frank.
"C'mon, kid," he said against the boy's lips, dropping his voice to a rough whisper. Felt appropriate this close. "We need some more space for that."
The bedroom in his lodgings was bare-bones and the bunk bed he used wasn't too wide, but Peter didn't seem to mind. He had in fact slept in it before when he needed a place to crash.
Frank got out of his undershirt but left his boxers on for now. Peter's eyes tracked his movements, intense like he was trying to pull the older man towards the bed with his mind. He wouldn't have needed to. Frank crawled into bed with him, covering him. He felt the kid's superhuman strength as he clung to Frank, muscles in his arms flexing. It was a simple fact that if they were to go hand to hand (again), the kid would have him tapping out in seconds. He didn't like being humbled but it was what it was. Some in this business were in it because they were special. Others because they had no choice. He'd stopped being a bitter s.o.b. about it. Mostly.
Now, Peter didn't fight back. He melted into the embrace, legs falling open to welcome Frank closer. They kissed again like goddamn horny teens - how old was the kid again, he wondered - and Peter wrapped one leg around his waist, his hands roaming around Frank's back wherever he could reach. For his part, Frank was scarred and then some, a complete opposite to the sweet soft spider-boy under him. Peter didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He got greedier with his kisses, licked wetly across Frank's mouth, rubbing at this stubble with the flat of his tongue. The older man let him do as he wished, and the kid pressed his nose against his neck, breathing in deep.
"You smell so good," Peter muttered into his ear. "Feel so good." He emphasized his words with another thrust of his hips up, erection digging into Frank's belly.
Frank knew exactly what he wanted to do with that throbbing hard dick. He dislodged himself from Peter and looked at him. Splayed out on his back, lips kissed red, his brown hair curling, Peter was a goddamn angelic sight. There was no way around it, bruises and all. The kid clearly knew what he got, too, the way he arced his back and held Frank's gaze. Frank let himself drink him in. Had been very few pretty things he had looked at lately. Then he moved.
"Hey -"
Peter reached for him as he got off the bed.
"Sit up, kid."
He dropped to his knees by the bedside. The bunk bed was not spacious enough and he sure as hell wasn't nimble enough to do this in any other configuration.
"What are you - Frank," Peter said, almost surprised, but did as told, moving so he was sitting on the edge of the bed in front of Frank.
"Getting comfortable. 'cause I really wanna suck that pretty dick of yours. Any objections?" He touched Peter's ankle and rubbed there slowly with his thumb.
"Can't think of any," Peter said softly, then lifted his ass so Frank could drag his precum-drenched boxers down his legs, revealing his cock. It was full, straining, twitching as the cool air hit him.
"You said the floor was dirty," Peter said, but spread his legs and scooted forward to give Frank more space.
"My house, my rules." With that, Frank kissed the side on his knee, then licked a slow stripe up the silky skin of Peter's inner thigh.
Peter gasped at the contact, his exhale jittery.
Frank hadn't lied. His cock was hell of a pretty thing, slightly darkened with blood, still lighter than his own would be. The crown was shiny with his precum, so much of it already that thick clear strands were slowly sliding down the shaft like glazing. Peter had only a little thatch of pubic hair to match his nearly hairless chest and armpits. His inner thighs were covered in the lightest peach fuzz. Jesus, it was absurd a soft thing like him could take a bullet.
Frank's mouth watered at the sight, but he wasn't about to rush this. Palms on the kid's thighs, he leaned closer again to kiss his groin and draw in his scent. Sweet here too, but more potent, surely full of hormones that could drive a man crazy.
He pressed Peter's dick out of the way, trapping it between his palm and a flat belly. Before Peter could protest, he kissed the very root of his shaft, then lower, sucking at his scrotum. The action earned him another sound from Peter's mouth and the kid's hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, Christ, Frank," he breathed out as the older man sucked one of his balls into his mouth. He kept worrying it between his lips, feeling the testicle which by its weight was truly in need of draining.
He focused his attention on Peter's balls fully, licking, sucking, turning his head to kiss his inner thighs too. When he felt the kid beginning to buck hips forward, clearly seeking more pressure on his trapped cock, he let the sac slip from between his lips and freed Peter's dick. It had only grown harder.
Frank pulled back, inhaling deep. Peter had a dazed look on his face, and he kept his eyes on the boy as he took a proper hold of his dick now, and without teasing sucked the head between his lips.
Fuck, the kid tasted like candy. He slurped at the head, then sucked a little more into his slick mouth. He was fucking drooling all over the boy's family jewels. He watched Peter squeeze his eyes shut as he kept sucking and licking. The kid was clearly fighting an instinct, so Frank reached to grab his wrist and brought his hand to the back of his head. Peter's fingers slid into his short black hair, tugging at his scalp but not forcing him closer. He seemed happy - more than happy - to let Frank set the pace and devour him as he pleased. If only he was so amenable in combat.
He let the slippery, pulsing cock slide a few inches out of his mouth. Jerking at the base, he rubbed the underside of the shaft with the flat of his tongue, the head sliding against the roof of his mouth. Slick precum coated the back of his mouth and he swallowed, making Peter groan with the curl of his tongue.
"Frank, I'm gonna, fuck, stop," Peter panted.
Abandoning the tasty treat, Frank pulled back and let the shiny dick out of his mouth with a wet sound. He kept his fingers around the base, though loosened his hold.
"Don't wanna cum yet, kid?"
"No, yeah, I mean - if I do, are you gonna -?"
He could see Peter struggling to get his point across.
"Hey, kid. No matter how many times you shoot your web here, I still want to fuck you. Okay? You want to cum now and keep going?"
Peter looked relieved, and exhaled a grateful yes.
Frank dove back in, kept his fist tight around the base and worked with his tongue. His mouth felt already half-filled with jizz. That kinda production had to be spider-made. He tightened his hold and upped the pressure of his lips, and then the kid was downright whining and squirming and shooting full force into his mouth.
He kept Peter in for most of it, swallowing his warm cum, a huge load that slid down his throat easy until the sensation got too close to choking. He let the kid's dick slip out of his mouth, and the rest of the fluids burst on his jaw.
Peter stared at him fairly stunned. "Holy shit," he said weakly. "That was hot. Wow." Frank patted his knee as he got up, his own joints complaining.
He grabbed a tissue from the drawer to wipe his face of the spider-juice. It only occurred to him to ask now, "There's no side effects to swallowing your body fluids, right? No paralyzing toxin or some shit?"
Peter snorted weakly. "No. At least that I know of." He had laid back on the bed again, head on his bent arm, spread out like a tasteful centerfold.
Frank moved to grab a bottle of lube and a condom from the drawer. As he fished one out, Peter shook his head against the pillow, looking a little embarrassed.
"Oh, you don't have to, that's, I'm on - I mean, can't catch or spread anything, the spider bite did that too."
"I'll take your word for it, Parker." The kid was way too honest to lie about something like this and he tossed the condom back, taking only the lube. "Don't come crying back to me if I get you knocked up," he added as he moved back to the bed, making Peter roll his eyes and smile.
He hadn't ever had a reason to wonder what Spider-Man's stance on protection was, but now that he knew it, Frank had to admit it was exciting to think about feeling his heat without a barrier. Been a long since he had had someone raw. Probably not long enough though.
"Let's get your tight little ass all nice and ready, hm?" Frank sat on the bed. "Wanna get on your front? Easier that way, unless you don't like it."
"No, it's, mm, it's really good," Peter said. Frank waited till Peter was on his hands and knees before sitting behind him on the bed.
"Good," he rumbled. "'cause I get to look at this fine ass of yours a bit longer."
He could hear the blushing in the kid's voice. "Don't need to sweettalk me, Frank." He widened his stance and pushed his lovely rear back.
Frank poured lube down Peter's crack, then coated a couple fingers of his right hand. When he touched Peter right below the tailbone, the sound that he made was more a sigh of relief than anything else. He slid two fingertips lower, over his hole, which twitched under his touch. Rubbing over it slowly, he touched Peter with his free hand, the curve of his ass cheek, down his strong thigh, then up again.
He started with one fingertip. Even with the copious amount of lube, Peter was tight. His body clenched around Frank's thick forefinger, fluttered, like unsure whether to push him out or pull him in. He worked the finger in slowly, back and forth, enjoying the squeeze and the sight. With every pull out, a little bit of dark purple skin followed, like Peter's hole wanted to hold onto him.
"Want more, kid?"
"Mm. Yeah." Peter had dropped his head down and pressed his cheek into the pillow and his voice was muffled.
Frank went up to two fingers. That earned him a lower sound from Peter. He slid his broad palm slowly up the boy's back, mindful of the new injuries, up till he could cradle the back of his neck without pressure. He rubbed at the base of Peter's skull with his thumb.
"Taking me well, kid." He moved his fingers, searching for the sweet spot inside Peter's passage, satisfied with the sound that was punched out of his mouth.
Peter pushed back against his bundled fingertips, moving his hips to chase a better angle. Frank let him do that, it was easier to let him perfect the position rather than him indulging in guesswork.
He added another on the next push, waiting for the kid's yes please before breaching his hole, stretching him wider. The tightness was beginning to give way to slick welcoming warmth, and when Frank pulled his thick fingers out now, Peter's hole gaped, nothing obscene, just worked loose.
Peter had taken the three thick fingers beautifully and didn't show signs of getting tired of this yet, so Frank pushed the fingers back in up to the first joint and pressed the tip of his little finger on the stretched rim.
"One more, Peter?"
The kid left out a muted whine at that.
"What's that? You want to feel four fingers in your tight little spidey-hole?" He pushed the fourth fingertip in just a little, wiggled it to rub at the rim.
Peter turned his head enough to make himself heard. "Y- yeah, Frank, please, more."
"You got it," he murmured. He slipped his fingers free and ignored Peter's impatient whine.
He reached for the uncorked lube and quickly dribbled it on his fingers, then cupped Peter's left asscheek with his free hand, spreading him a little more.
Then he slid his fingers in again, little finger moving with the rest.
Peter rubbed his nose into the pillow again, a sound almost like being hurt escaping him. But Frank had heard him moan in pain many times before and this was not it.
Jesus, this was a sight. Almost made him want to pull back and stroke his own aching cock till he rained hundred-percent human cum all over the kid's spread open asshole, the backs of his thighs. Not yet though. Unlike the kid, there was no way he would get it up again.
He thrust his fingers in an inch, not going deeper now, stretching sideways. Peter didn't seem to mind, and he'd lost all inhibition about making sound, raising his upper body so he could rest his forehead on his crossed arms. The pillow must have been wet with his drool. The movement made his shoulder blades move, his spine bow. Every little part of him moving, all graceful.
"Frank, I really wanna - can we, can you - please, can-you-fuck-me-please?"
The straight up question hit Frank somewhere in his core that rarely got a workout. The sweet desperation but also the goddamn Peter-ness even when he had the Punisher's four thick fingers filling his ass.
"Be glad to, kid," he said, voice coming out all soft.
He slowly freed his fingers from the clench of Peter's hole. They came out with a squelch and a gush of lube that dripped down the kid's crack and down his balls. Peter's dripping cock had made a mess of the sheet.
"On your back," Frank instructed. Peter did as told immediately. "Wanna see your pretty face."
He got off his bed to finally rid himself of his underwear. His boxers were drenched in his own precum, a slick dark spot that was shiny even on black fabric.
Peter's eyes tracked his movements, his attention clearly between Frank's legs, his eyes widened a little as he slid his soaked boxers off and his throbbing, heavy erection sprung free.
He returned to Peter, whose legs parted to welcome him again. Frank lowered himself, and felt the kid's newly rock-hard, precum-coated dick press against him. He grunted at the contact, finally getting some direct pressure on his cock that had been neglected for all this affair.
He wasn't about to get off rubbing on the boy's washboard abs like a goddamn teenager, and that was getting dangerously likely. Peter seemed to have the same idea. His hands were on Frank's hips, tugging, fingers sinking into his flesh, getting a mite too rough with his superstrength.
Frank sucked at the join of shoulder and neck, then mouthed his way up. "What do you want, Peter?" he spoke low into the kid's ear.
"Mm, you." Peter's hand moved lower, grabbing his ass. Frank dragged his lips down the side of his neck, his stubble surely leaving marks on the baby soft skin.
"I wanna hear you say it," Frank let his voice drop to a low rumble, and he kissed the hollow of Peter's throat.
"I want, I want your cock. Just, please, Frank, please fuck me, I can't take it anymore -"
"You've got it," he murmured into the soft skin of Peter's neck, then pulled back to get better leverage. The kid tried to reflexively hold him back by his hips before catching himself.
Frank got up on his knees between Peter's raised legs. The boy stared at his throbbing darkened cock with a look Frank could only describe as starving. He coaxed Peter to raise his legs a bit, then grabbed him by his strong thighs. Hands holding him apart, he pressed the head of his rigid hard cock against the opened hole.
"Fra-ank -" Peter's voice was high, "- fuck me."
Peter was so slick and open that Frank's first thrust took him all the way in. They both moaned at that.
"Fucking hell, kid, you're -" Frank's mind stuttered, and he couldn't finish what he was saying. To hell with that. Grabbing his thighs, he hoisted Peter up a little so his hips lifted off the bed. The new angle gave easier access to his slickened hole. And then he fucked him, plain and simple.
Now that Peter wasn't face down, Frank got the visual instead of audio only. His cheeks were reddened. Tousled hair stuck to his skin in sweaty curls. He had clear stubble burn on his neck and jaw. He kept his eyes on Frank, blinking, swallowing in air when a thrust hit him just right.
Frank kept up the rhythm, slow rolls of his hips, glancing down to see his bare cock thrusting in and out of Peter's ass, but mostly watching the kid's face. He kept making sound openly now, something animal, something sweet. He held the position easy, back muscles working, making Frank's job easier so he could free his other arm.
He touched Peter's chest. Goddamn he was muscled. He rubbed at the hard bud of the dark pink nipple with his thumb, causing the kid to squirm and half-laugh. He wondered if it was the spider stuff made Peter so reactive or was it just his age. Or just being himself.
Peter looked lost in the pleasure, and Frank wasn't that much far behind. When the kid tightened his muscles around him, he muttered a fuck and couldn't help but thrust quicker. Judging from the noises Peter made, it wasn't bad, and he let his instincts take over, pummeled the kid's greedy ass like no tomorrow. He felt his own need to cum spread inside him, so sweet and intense, better than ever, fuck, he really needed to -
"Please, Frank, I wanna cum, I need to, please let me -"
Don't need my permission, kid, he wanted to say, but for once let it go.
"Touch your pretty cock. Come on, baby, cum for me."
With only one desperate jerk the kid was already spending himself, shooting thin cum all over his chest, hard enough that it splashed on his own neck and chin, pooled above his collarbones. The sight made Frank's blood roar hot and made him want to bend down to lick it all off. The best spunk he'd ever tasted by a mile.
It was the thought that pushed Frank over the edge. He pulled back at the last second, grabbing his throbbing dick and aiming his load on the kid's twitching hole. With a groan, he came, waves of thick white cum hitting Peter's balls, cock, thighs, dripping down between his crack, soaking into the sheet under his ass joining the lube and spider-cum spot.
It took a while to catch his breath.
Frank dragged himself across the bed, squeezing past Peter, to sit down and lean his back against the wall.
"Wow," Peter said again, and like nothing, he got up and moved up the bed and pressed himself against Frank's side. He was breathing hard, front covered in cum that was slowly rolling down his skin.
"What are you doing?" Frank asked out of reflex.
"What do you mean?" Peter moved an inch so he could look at Frank.
"Look, Spidey, I don't do this," he gestured in the air. "You know, afterwards. Talk and shit."
It wasn't like he hit it and quit it. But he did it with guys who didn't do this either. You did it, and then it was done, and no one's feelings got hurt.
"Oh, okay, well I - I could leave, I guess we're do-" The kid was getting flustered again and sprung up from the bed. Fuck if that wasn't enough to break your heart.
"Nah, forget about it." Frank patted the spot next to him, and Peter scooted closer, relieved, a smile spreading on his face again. He had to squeeze real close. He didn't exactly cuddle Frank, which would have definitely got him kicked out of the bed, but pressed against his side, his skin still hot. He did half-wrap himself around Frank, hand on his chest. Not a cuddle.
"You know," Peter said after a moment, fingers playing with Frank's chest hair. "You were wrong."
"How's that?"
Peter turned his head so he could glance at his face. "This was just what I needed. I think you needed it too."
They were quiet for a little while, until Peter spoke again.
"Also."
Frank let out an inquisitive hm.
"You called me 'baby.'"
"I fucking did not," he said without force, turning his head to hide his smile.
"It's okay, Frank," Peter said and dropped his head on his shoulder. "I kinda liked it. You can do it again sometime."