The Sight of You
Peter Parker/Male Reader, Peter Parker/First Person Reader
You and Peter see each other across the bar. Suppressed feelings from years ago come out as you sloppily make out. He confesses his feelings for you, saying he messed up by pushing you away. You struggle for moment, remembering the good and bad.
CW: Explicit, Semi Drunk Sex, Blowjobs, Frotting, Gentle and Rough Kissing, Anal Sex, Porn with Feelings
Word Count ~ 4k
Ao3
My hand was yanked and I felt my body get dragged off the rickety bar stool. Of course, he still had that superhuman strength. I was led through the crowd, my body almost numb from the alcohol but still present enough to feel the vast array of clothing textures brush against my skin. Soft cottons, smooth polyesters, a fluffy shawl despite the warm weather outside and body heat induced warmth inside, all made the briefest pass on my exposed arms. The dim lights combined with my unfocused vision and made it difficult to discern anything about anyone I was pulled to shove past.
Finally, we made it through a doorway. I hoped to feel the cool evening breeze against my skin, but instead I inhaled the stale smell of piss and rust. Hazy yellow lights gave the bathroom slightly more visibility than the main bar area. The man who confidently dragged me across the bar finally released my wrist. It felt cold. I wanted his touch back. I wanted his touch everywhere.
As soon as he turned to face me, I gazed deep into his eyes for a moment. There was so much lust and want in his face. The look in his eyes was one I imagined a hungry lion would show a gazelle right before it struck. I missed those eyes, that look.
But instead of immediately pouncing on me, a soft hand grazed my cheek as he whispered, “beautiful.”
His gentle voice was so intoxicating, but my hurt was stronger. I stepped back, away from the touch. With my back flush with the hard wooden door, I muttered, “Why now?”
I could see his teeth begin to nibble his bottom lip, still the same nervous tick as years ago. Was the answer so hard to say or did it just not exist?
“I-I don't-”
“Still?” The shout burst out of me as my anger at his lack of explanation and pathetic stuttering boiled over. “Do you know what it's like? To see everyone uphold someone who always saves the day but can't give one damn explanation.”
My eyes were drawn to his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he gulped, the only motion aside from his shoulders going up and down with each deep breath. A small patch of stubble stuck out to my eye, where the busy Peter Parker clearly missed while hastily shaving. The fun loving hero that was always equipped with a one liner was stunned into a statue-esq silence.
After a minute, or was it five, he broke the silence. “I'm sorry.” It was barely audible, my ears straining to hear.
That was it. That was all he had? Two damn years and all he came up with was I'm sorry. I spent two years thinking of ways to curse him out for using either of his busy life’s as an excuse, but I never imagined this is all he would give me.
It was so stupid. This whole situation, seeing each other after all this time like this was so stupid. I relaxed my body against the door, an exasperated chuckle leaving my lips. It released all of my tension. We were both too drunk to actually have this conversation. Peter looked at me confused at my reaction, almost on edge as if I would yell or strike him. I wanted to find it in me to do either action, but I stopped thinking with my brain.
“Kiss me.” It was a demand that came from the raging boner I had straining my tight pants. I would regret it in the morning, I knew it, but I, it, needed relief.
There was a pause of hesitation, but he couldn't resist me either. It was the entire reason I got dragged into this dingy bathroom once we locked eyes across the bar. The two years had changed our clothing and haircuts, but neither of us could forget the other's face.
A warm hand returned to my cheek, as he carefully grabbed my face as if I was made of glass or an illusion that would shatter. But his lips smashed against mine in a way that was anything but gentle. I returned the passion, slipping my tongue in and desperately fishing around to taste him again. I almost forgot how sweet he was. Almost.
My tongue felt its way through his mouth, remapping it into my memory. The way each tooth was arranged, the roof of his mouth, and of course, the way his tongue wrestled with mine. In the past, it was done slowly, sensually, with intent. Now, with both of us aware how quickly everything could fall apart, it was a manic fight in his mouth.
It didn’t take long for our need to be as close as possible to spread throughout our bodies. Seeking pressure, I pressed my groin against him. A groan slipped between our mouths, and I felt his equally hard bulge putting pressure on mine. Utilizing his strong hips, I felt my back hit the door again, with a lot more force. Just the knowledge that he could've slammed me through it made my horny brain light up even more. He used the tent in my pants as the perfect surface to grind his massive, concealed cock.
Fuck.
I needed more.
I needed it now.
Peter whined at my exit from his mouth, but I had to use it on other places. His cotton shirt was soft on my fingers as I lightly shoved him back. The muscular body that I knew was wrapped under the white band t-shirt stood firm against my weak push, but he knew what I meant and stepped back. Ignoring the permeating smell that signaled the cleanliness, or lack thereof, of the room, I dropped to my knees the moment I had the space. The ground collided with them, hard, but I was too drunk, too horny, to even pay it any mind.
While maintaining eye contact, I used my hands to feel up and undo his pants. As I worked up, I felt his cock pushing hard to get free from its restraints. I let my touch linger for a moment, watching up at the wide eyes staring me down.
“Pl-please.” The whimper came from Peter. The wall shook behind me as he slammed his hands against it and rolled his hips, almost as if it was involuntary, into my hands.
I kept my hands moving up. I fumbled with the aged leather belt holding his pants in place before I finally got the buckle undone. In one motion, I yanked his pants and underwear down simultaneously. Once it was free, Peter's hung cock perked up to attention and slapped me in the face. Flecks of precum flew off and spattered onto my face.
I grabbed it by the base, using both hands since one wasn't enough to fully wrap around. I started with my tongue, lapping up the salty sweet pre from the head of the cock.
I missed this taste. It coated my tongue, and I wanted more. The real thing. That's what I was chasing. My lips wrapped around the thick cock and I forced my jaw to go slack. I bobbed my head, working my way lower and lower with each motion. But it wasn't fast enough for Peter. A strong hand found its place on the back of my head, thin finger interlacing with my hair.
My head got pushed forward, forcing the cock deep into my mouth. It slammed against the entrance of my throat, and yet my mouth still hadn't connected with my hands at the base of the cock yet. My vision blurred and I fought back my gag reflex. I had tried to find other partners in the two years since, but none had girth comparable to Peter. My throat was unprepared. I used my nose to take a breath, that was more shallow than I wished it would've been.
My hair got pulled, taking my head back with it. I used the chance to attempt to relax my throat before it got forced back down. This time, I was more ready, and the thick cock filled me. I could feel my lips finally reach my hands, as the entire length rested in my mouth and throat. It twitched slightly. I knew what that meant, but I wanted to do more before he came.
Soft relaxed muscle filled my hands as I grabbed his ass. It tensed a bit under my grasp and I heard Peter above me shiver. The pressure on my head loosened, but his fingers still remained twirled in my hair. He still knew exactly what I was going to do. I tightened my grip on him, and used it as a way to pull out just up his tip on the edge of my mouth, before slamming my head back down.
A groan echoed off the walls and filled the cramped room. “So g-ood.”
His praise encouraged me to pick up speed. Through the tears in my eyes, I watched as his pale skin got closer and further, closer and further. The block in my throat removed for mere moments just to reappear. My body urged itself to cough, to get it out, but I kept going. The dick in my throat kept throbbing and twitching while the unholy sounds from my mouth combined with the whispered moans from Peter.
At last, the hands on my head reapplied its pressure and forced his dick all the way down my throat. His groan crescendo'd to a volume that if I was in the right state of mind, I would've worried about the workers hearing. Thick warm liquid shot down my throat. One spurt. Two spurts. Three. After four, he seemed to be empty at last, and removed his increasingly flaccid dick. On the way out, I slurped it clean of all its salty goodness, the sticky warmth coating my tongue.
“Fuck, I-” The gentle voice cracked. It seemed to be caught on emotion rather than horniness.
I glanced up to check his face. It seemed he noticed me looking, since he removed the hand from my hair and placed it to cover his face from my view. But he wasn't quick enough. I saw the glossy look in his eyes. The complete pivot from moaning during climax to choking up on tears confused me. Was it an instant post nut clarity? Was he crying because I did a bad job?
I picked myself up off the ground, my knees yelling at me in pain but I ignored it. My hands found the soft cotton of his shirt again and wrapped around his waist. A force of weight fell onto me and he collapsed into my arms. His arms loosely found my upper back and his tear soaked face buried into my shoulder.
“Y-you're so,” His voice was muffled in my shirt, and I felt him hiccup from either the alcohol or the tears spasming his diaphragm, or both. “so fucking nice.”
Another wave of confusion rolled through me. I still didn't understand why he was crying. “Hey, you're amazing too.”
But instead of comforting him, my words just made him sob harder. Unsure of what to do, I just rubbed his back until he could find his voice again. We stood in the dingy bathroom wordlessly, just two exes comforting each other.
After a while, the crying slowed, and he stood from my grasp. My arms had almost gone numb from holding the deceivingly heavy man up. The red tear stained eyes met mine, as he cleared his throat. “I'm sorry.” Despite his attempt to clear it, his voice was a bit scratchy. “For being scared back then. I was so worried about someone finding out about us that I forgot how much I needed you.”
A sad grin found its way on my face. After all this time, I finally got what I wanted; The reason why he left me after things were going so well. But the answer stirred confusing emotions in me. There was relief that it wasn't my fault, but also hurt that I wasn't enough to deter his care about public perception. I felt the same way, that I needed him, but also it was hard to look into his eyes and not think of our last conversation.
“Can we try again?”
His question shocked me. Try again? I thought of the hurt he caused me. The breakup over text, no final goodbye in person. The abandoned dates as Spiderman was called to duty and the six month anniversary spent in a hospital room. The rational part of my brain told me to say no. It was just a freshman fling and to leave it in the past.
But the good parts fought their way to the front of my thoughts. The gentle way he held me and how he knew just the right spots to place his hands. Cheap handmade gifts that had so much labor put into them that the worth was more than the ingredients used. How he seemed to read my mind, and knew what I needed and when I was upset.
I stopped gazing off and pulled my attention back into his eyes. Those eyes that read my soul and held such a pitiful expression as he stood and waited for my reply. He would understand if I rejected him. It was clear he wasn't ready to be with a man.
“Yes.” My mouth betrayed my brain. But watching his face light up, feeling his hands return on my back and get pulled into a tight embrace, I knew I made the right choice.
We pulled away from the hug, but still kept close. His warm hands still resting on my upper back and mine on his muscular lower back. We were close enough that I could see the small specks of green in his ocean eyes. They disappeared as he shut them, leaning back in to kiss me. I met his lips with mine. This time, he was gentle, not trying to devour me like earlier but reassure me with his mouth. It was okay. He cared.
Bang. The door behind me shook violently and we jumped apart at the noise.
“Get out! I havta shit!” A gruff voice demanded.
I glanced at Peter, worried, but he just giggled at the situation as he pulled his pants back up. “Let's go to my apartment.”
I was confused. “But, people are going to see-”
“Who cares.” That threw me off guard. Two years ago, he would never say something like that. Seeing my reaction, Peter continued, “I have bigger secrets than my sexuality to hide.”
The second the door to his apartment clicked shut, I carefully watched Peter, who had that hungry look in his eyes again. Our lips were like magnets that couldn't stay apart any longer. I felt him devour me. My back slammed against the smooth wall with enough force to knock a nearby painting loose from the nail that hung it. But I didn't care. My body didn't care. Peter didn't care. There was only one section of our brains active, the same one causing the pressure in my pants. The same one causing his huge bulge to press against mine.
Our tongues still interlocked, I fumbled with the belt and pants that were keeping Peter's cock away. Cold air smacked my ass, then the rest of my lower body as Peter beat me in the task of removing the other's pants. I was close behind and yanked his pants and underwear down and allowed them to drop to his ankles.
With both our hard cocks exposed to the air, Peter thrust me against the wall again, frotting our cocks together. I stopped making out with him as a sharp moan escaped my mouth, something he didn't seem to mind as he did the same. His deep moan harmonized with mine. I wrapped my hands around our thick cocks, and while mine wasn’t quite the level of the superhero's, I was still proud of how close we were in size. Warm strong hands assisted me as we both worked on jerking the two cocks together.
The precum from both of our tips made our hands glide. The pressure of four hands combined with the motions of Peter solid cock rubbing up and down against the front of mine was already making my cock twitch. I felt the familiar pull, the urge to cum. But it was too soon. I wanted, needed, him in me first.
“Ngh, w-wait,” My request was breathy, as I fought back the intense pleasure for just long enough to speak.
Instantly, the rough hands stopped working and one of his hands gently caressed my cheek. A look of concern was on Peter's face as he looked into my eyes. “Is everything okay?”
“So good. I want more. Inside me.” My mumbling was incoherent, I was basically drunk off of the feeling of being back here with him. Of him still knowing exactly how to work me.
Those words were all he needed to hear. The concern transformed into a sultry smile. The gentle hold left my cheek and roughly grabbed my hips. I felt my body get flipped around with little effort, facing the crappy wall of his cheap apartment. My body got pushed forward, forcing me to catch myself on the wall, as he easily pushed two fingers in.
“Already so loose,” the vibrations of his low whisper tickled my ear. “What a naughty boy prepping before the bar.”
Before I could even argue back, a wave of intense pleasure ran through my body as his finger grazed my prostate. The only sound that left my lips was my pathetic groan. My ass felt empty for a moment as his fingers left, but that was quickly replaced by his hard cock pushing against my asshole. I felt the tip ram in, my tight ass squeezing around it. It stretched me so good. With a grunt, I felt his huge cock slam into me as he used his strong hips to thrust into me. I could barely stop myself from slamming against the wall. My average musculature was hardly comparable to the strength of Peter.
It seemed Peter realized it too, as he grabbed a tighter hold on my hips and kept in place as he rammed back into me. This time, his cock made its way fully in. I felt so full. His balls slapped against mine and the sensation was enough to almost make me cum.
“So good,” Peter groaned behind me.
That was it. I couldn't hold on any longer. The orgasm I'd been biting back since the bar bathroom finally shot through me. I lost sight as my eyes rolled back. My body tightened and relaxed in all the right places. I laid back against the muscular Peter to prevent falling face first into the wall, his grip on my hips the only reason I was still standing. Then I felt the rush of warmth as Peter came right after, moaning loudly alongside me.
Soft kisses planted onto the side of my neck. “I missed this so much.”
I couldn't articulate how damn much I agreed, so I just hummed in agreement.
He pulled his cock out, leaving my ass empty aside from the bits of cum spilling out. I felt my body get spun around again before he kept working his mouth on my neck. The way he sucked at my sensitive neck, nipping it slightly, I knew it would leave a mark. But based on the noises I was making, he knew I didn't care in the moment.
The cold air hit the wet spot on my neck, contrasting his warm mouth, once he pulled away. I finally opened my eyes, meeting his soft gaze. It was somehow so tender, despite the obvious glint of lust.
“How about we properly strip and get to the bedroom?” Peter asked, his eyes obviously glancing at the pants around our ankles, our shoes still on as we never made it past the doorway.
A chuckle escaped my mouth. God we were worse than bunnies when we were together. After we removed our shoes and clothes from our lower bodies, all that remained were our shirts. Before he could even grab the bottom hem, I reached forward and beat him. I pulled up, and he understood, raising his arms and allowing me to pull his shirt off.
His body was even hotter than it was a few years ago. The shallow six pack had deep ridges and a beautiful v line that pointed right at his, currently soft, dick. His waist looked almost pinched in, although that effect was created by his flared lats, giving his upper body a dorito shape. His raised arms showed off his huge triceps and hinted at his massive biceps. While he still, somewhat, maintained his lean look, it was evident that he'd been doing a lot of exercising outside of saving the city.
Like a copycat, once I managed to get his shirt off, he took advantage of my distractedness from ogling at his defined physique and pulled my shirt up. I allowed it to happen, if only so he could see the shape I got into since he left me. Now it was his turn to stare.
But I wanted to do more than stare. I grabbed his hand and dragged him to his bedroom. In the years, somehow nothing in the dingy apartment changed. The bedroom looked exactly how it did the last time I was in it, except a lot messier. The unmade bed and litterings of physics paper I couldn't begin to comprehend and photographs for the Daily Bugle were scattered everywhere. It was clear he wasn't expecting company tonight.
I playfully pushed him onto the bed, and he fell back with more force than I exerted. I jumped on top of him. My lips collided with his for a moment before I made my way down. His neck, his pecs, his nipples which drew out a sharp gasp, his abs. Each fell victim to my mouth. Knowing his line of work, I spared his neck from marks. But under his collar… well that would get covered by his shirt. Especially once I made it to his sensitive thighs. I purposely got close to his dick, allowing my hair to tickle his already hardening cock, but not my mouth.
The anticipation was clearly killing him, at least it was making him groan like crazy. Finally, he muttered, “Pl-Please.”
I rewarded him for asking. His cock was almost fully hard again, despite just cumming. My tongue ran up, starting at his balls and ending on his tip, where I planted a soft kiss. That made him fully hard and ready for my next plan.
Even though I was still too sensitive to go again, I fought through it and stood over him. I locked eyes with him as I lowered my asshole over his cock. It was still loose enough to take it fully with one motion. My soft cock slapped against his belly as I slammed my body down. The shocked look of pleasure on Peter's face was so hot. I leaned down to kiss him, our mouth feverishly smacking together, too horny to apply any skill. I used my hips to slowly ride his cock, up and down.
Those strong hands found their way around my hips again and assisted me in moving faster. Fuck. His huge cock was rubbing in just the right way against my prostate, I couldn't think. I was so overstimulated. A spurt of warmth flooded my ass.
A soft scent of vanilla hit my nose. I felt the strong arms I was enveloped in, one hand absentmindedly playing with my hair. I snuggled deeper into the warm embrace.
“Someone's finally awake,” the gentle coo of Peter's voice flooded the memories back into my head. I had blacked out for the first time from an orgasm.
I was never going to let him get away again.