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“Haven’t you guys been like dating for 4 years,”
Johnny is startled as he pulls away from his book, frowning at his sister. She blinks at him, just as confused as he is.
“… Susie, I’m not gay?”
There’s a silence from around the room. Even Frankie, who babbles a million miles a minute, is silent and staring at Johnny. Almost like he knows.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Ben says, fixing his newspaper and clearing his throat. Reed thrums his fingers over the table, humming as he looks at Sue.
“I told you he hadn’t figured it out,”
That makes Johnny even more confused. Reed looks at Sue, who looks at Ben, then back at Reed. It seems like they’re having an intricate conversation that Johnny is not a part of.
Or they already had this conversation, by what Johnny can infer.
“Me and Peter are friends. Really good friends. That comes with being a little homoerotic at times,”
“I ain’t no homo nothing with stretch over here, and we’ve been friends forever—“
“Uh, ok maybe a little—“
Reed actually flushes as him and Ben look at Sue who snorts as she looks at Johnny.
“But, Johnny. They make jokes. You hold hands with Peter—“
“—he was anxious—“
“—sleep naked—“
“—I run hot, ok—“
“—and you call him your soulmate most of the time. The googley eyes you give him are… intense. And that’s coming from someone who was pining for a good amount of time,”
Johnny pouts. He feels his cheeks are flushed red, and he can feel his ears start to burn as well. Sue crosses her arms, and smiles.
“Look. I’m not saying you are, or you aren’t. But I am your sister, and I know you. I’ve seen you in love, and out of it.
“Never once have I seen you make the same eyes at any girl you dated the same way you look at Peter when he hasn’t come over in a week,”
Johnny looks down at his phone, pouting the only way a freshly 22 year old can. He sucks his teeth and puts his head in his head.
“Man… whatever,”
But it’s not angry, or bitter but it is strong enough to make sue raise her eyebrows at her husband and friend, who shrug.
It’s been bothering him for a couple days.
Itd not that his family is wrong. Both him and Peter have a very close relationship, one started by mutual hatred of each other, sure, but a close relationship.
He can feel Peter’s hands against his back, gentle tugs as he stitches a wound he got.
The scars still pretty gnarly.
He frowns at the skyline, smiling and moving his eyes to Peter as he backflips and lands on his feet beside him.
Had he had more money, Peter would’ve been a wonderful danseur. The elegance of his legs, his back. The way he can en pointe without any training, holding his body tight and—
Oh shit, ok so yeah he might be pretty gay for Peter.
“Hey pretty boy. How ya doin?”
“Peter, have you ever thought about fucking men,”
Peters foot slips on the edge of the building, and he scrambles to catch purchase with his sticky hands. Johnny snorts slightly, grabbing Peter and lifting him.
Peter starts to laugh loudly, sitting beside Johnny and pulling out a chocolate bar. He splits it in half, and Johnny winces as the chocolate falls over his fingers, half melted.
“Nice one. Anyway, how was your day?”
Peter puts the half melted chocolate in his mouth as Johnny declines, scarfing it down and licking his lips. The pink of them glistens with saliva and Johnny swallows.
Ok cool. So that’s a thing.
“I… mm. Sue. Sue was talking to me, and asked me when we were going to get married. Since we’ve apparently been dating for a while.
“I asked her what the fuck she was talking about and apparently she thought we were together? And pretty seriously too,”
Peter stares at Johnny. Long and hard and with a lot of confusion.
“I don’t understand,”
“I think we can be pretty homoerotic at times, but she genuinely thought we were together,”
Peter blinks.
“W-well. I mean. There was that time she walked in on us cuddling, asleep. She had freaked out cause—“
“—cause I was naked. Yeah. I can see what she sees,”
They both stared at the skyline, quiet settling between them. A blanket, warm. Inviting. Settling on Peter’s soldiers like a confession.
“Ok,... so. There’s this guy in my school. Flash—“
“—ugh, that joke of a dude—?”
“Hush. He one day showed up with his hair slicked back and a suit for some pictures. Everyone thought he looked stupid, and they laughed but—“
The apples of Peter’s cheeks flush into a rosy color. His eyes twinkle and he smirks a little as he looks at Johnny.
Johnny feels his heart squeeze in a way that annoys him. A way that’s making his throat burn like acid, the way that Peter looks like he liked Flash more than he let on.
“--He said he was doing it for some show, or another. And he looked so nice. He’s a redhead, and he’s got cute freckles. He’s still a dick, but I mean. I wouldn’t mind–”
“--Kiss me,”
Peter’s eyes widened. He blinked, shaking his head at Johnny, then looked confused at the blond. Johnny grows really close, looking intensely into brown eyes, seeing the little flecks of gold and dark brown. Peter’s eyes trace all of Johnny’s face, jumping from his aquiline nose, to the dimples on his cheeks as he smiles softly.
“What?”
“I mean, how would we know if we dont kiss? If we don’t feel anything, it’s nothing, right?”
Peter frowned, standing up and walking away from Johnny. For a second, Johnny is scared that he might try to leave, but instead, he puts his head in his chin, humming.
“I mean. I’ve never really kissed a guy. Or really slept around. I slept with two women–
“--Two? Sunshine, that’s kinda sad, you're not ugly,”
Peter turns, his face blazing red up to his ears. He stutteres through an explanation, but Johnny feels more jealousy heat in his stomach, almost annoyingly so.
He doesn't want to think of Mary Jane Watson’s pomegranate red lipstick on Peter’s cheeks and lips and wherever else she put her lips on. He doesn’t want to think of Gwen’s electric blue smile as she kisses Peter places he hasn’t even thought of until a week ago when his sister told him that.
Okay, so maybe he was a little in love with Peter already. Or maybe he was always nurturing these feelings, and never really looked at how much he really wanted this dork who tripped over his own knobbly knees. Maybe he didn’t want to think about why Peter was one of his first thoughts in the morning, and last at night.
Maybe.
“Alright, alright. Come on, let’s just. Think about this. We can go back to being friends, right?”
“I mean, if you don’t like it,”
“How are you so sure that I’m going to like it?”
“Sunshine, look at me,”
Johnny flexes, kissing his muscled arms and making a front double bicep pose, grinning as Peter stiffened and widened his eyes at the way his muscles tensed under his clothes.
Peter was more lanky, long and lean. The build of a dancer, of someone who sailed through the air like an arrow. He wasn’t as strong as Johnny (well looking he’s seen him bench a tank), and Johnny was vain enough to recognize that he took care of his body. He’ll especially do it now if Peter is going to look at him like he's dangling meat in front of a rabid animal.
“I-I-I mean. Johnny, I don’t even know if im–”
“One kiss, sweetheart. Come on. I’ll even put on cherry chapstick for you,”
He makes smooching noises, and Peter smacks his arm, laughing softly. There’s a sweet little flush of red over his freckled cheeks, even if his skin is tan. Johnny feels his heart ache.
“Just one?”
“One is all I ask. If you want more, you can ask. Love it when they beg a little,” He smirks, getting closer to Peter, who groans in annoyanec and rolls his eyes. His hands wrap around Peter’s waist, almost groaning at the way they slide over his hips. Though smaller in form, he can feel the power beneath his muscles, and body.
Tight, ready to spring like a loaded weapon. The way his bambi eyes look at him, all sweet and gentle make Johnny feel gooey inside. That Peter is strong, and capable, but still willing to be vulnerable and open.
Peter has gifted him this, he can’t fuck it up.
His hand runs up Peter’s back, then to his shoulder, his collarbone. His pointer traces his chin, then his cheek. Peter’s eyes flutter slightly, his long lashes pressing against his upper eyelids, closing his eyes in enjoyment as Johnny touches him. Johnny is entranced by the care and adoration in the man’s eyes, and he feels like he hasn’t seen that in… a long time.
Sweet. Gentle.
Dare he say loving.
“Johnny, come on just kis–”
“Ok! Ok, Don't rush me,” He giggles softly, tracing the soft brown skin, the scars running up his chin. He leans forward, and then presses a peck on Peter. A soft brush of his lips on dry lips, a sharp little inhale, a soft grunt. Peter’s eyelids dance slightly, Johnny looking at his face as he pulls back.
Peter giggles softly as Johnny breathes a laugh. His face is so close to Peter’s, to someone who cares about him. His friend.
Oh boy.
Would he say he’s his everything?
There’s a pause. The kiss should’ve felt earth shattering. Life changing. Sexuality changing. But it doesn’t. To Johnny, it feels like a rush of warmth. Like setting himself into a warm bath, like opening his door to his home after a long day.
It feels familiar in a way that he can curl up into. He wishes he could dig Peter into him, warm like the blood that pulses through his veins.
Peter is warm like sunlight on a porch, like the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
As Peter’s eyes search Johnny’s, he knows he feels the same.
Johnny licks his lips, and Peter tiptoes again to press his mouth hard against Johnny’s again. This time more drastic. This time a fire.
Johnny groans, pushing into the younger man, kissing as hard and as deep as he can. He’s never wanted something so hard, never wanted someone so, so much.
There had been something empty inside him. He hadn’t noticed it before, maybe comfortable to grow and live around the ache, but Peter blasted that door wide open, and now he’s struggling to close it.
Well. He’s not exactly struggling.
HIs hands are on Peter’s hips, tracing the bones that stick out slightly. Tracing tan, soft skin that shudders under his touch. Peter is enthusiastic, kissing back as hard as Johnny is.
He has more experience than Peter. Much more, way too much. But if every single bad interaction had to be reset, if every single bad thing Johnny has gone through in his entire short life led right back to Peter, his lovely little Peter, Johnny would happily throw himself headfirst into the fire.
“John, oh ,”
Oh indeed.
Johnny’s tongue presses against Peter’s sucking softly and then licking the corner of his lip. Peter tastes like chocolate, like violence. Like every single instance in his life didn’t matter as much as him loving the man in his arms.
Pressing tight against him, his hands dip to his backside, lifting Peter and making the young man grunt, pulling back. His eyes are so dilated he can’t see the lovely shade of brown his eyes have.
The little line of spit between them pops, and Johnny groans and digs back into kiss him. His cock hurts, rubbing against Peter’s, chasing a little more friction, a little more–”
“AH!”
Peter’s entire body shudders, and he throws his head back. His long neck beautiful and elegant, and Johnny takes the invitation to mark him up.
Mine, mine, mine –
“W-What, hold up,” Peter pulls away, stepping a couple feet from Johnny, wiping his mouth and leaving Johnny cold and empty. They stare at each other for a second, and Johnny huffs.
”Ok, so maybe I am gay,”
“Johnny!” Peter’s voice cracks a little and Johnny begins to laugh softly behind his hand, looking at the vigilante, who shifts his pants. His dance belt can only hide so much, to be honest.
“Bed?”
“Mine or yours?”
Johnny doesn’t even care that the bed is a fourth of the size of his. He doesn’t care that the sheets are rough on his pampered skin, he doesn’t care that the floor creaks when he walks.
All he cares about is the moonlight streaming into Peter’s room, showing him the lean man undressing. Fighting with the dance belt that he grew out of two years ago, hands shaking in excitement.
“J-johnny, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never had sex with a man,”
“For one. I’m making love to you. How dare you,”
Peter giggles softly, but his shoulders soften in a way, almost like a weight was lifted.
He was expecting Johnny just to want him for sex.
Hm.
Johnny’s hand runs up knee, tracing a scar there. The freckles, the cellulite. The stretch marks, everything. Every little piece of Peter that he loved, he adored.
“And two. I’ve never either. I have fucked a girl in the ass before–”
“ Johnny –”
“--so it’s not much of a difference right?” He whispers softly, looking at Peter, who balks at Johnny’s intense gaze. Blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight, disarming.
“I… Ok,”
“You’ll tell me. Ok? Do not let me hurt you,” He whispers softly, taking Peter’s hand and knitting their fingers together. Peter looks at their joined hands, then up at Johnny. The blond smiles softly, and grins.
He undresses as Peter pulls out lubricant and a condom. The brunet shivers a little, tears springing in his eyes. Nervous, probably.
Johnny leans forward, peppering kisses at the edge of Peter’s eyes, his cheeks. His hands run up his tight body, making him melt and try to get closer to the man’s warmth. He had mentioned that he loses his body heat quickly, and it seems that it’s that and the urge to be touched.
How sweet.
His fingers softly trace Peter’s entrance, making him flinch and spread his legs wider. His brown eyes meet Johnny’s, keeping his gaze steady as Johnny slides his fingers inside him.
Peter stiffens, his eyes wide. Then confused, and then more confused.
“Huh,”
Johnny presses softly, trying to remember how he did this with one of his exes, as she had been more than ecstatic and loud as he pushed into her.
Instead, Peter is wiggling and kicking, uncomfortable as he stretches and pushes his fingers deeper.
“Peter, stop laughing,”
“It feels fu–”
Peter’s eyes widen, his body contorting into an arch. His toes curls and he yells, cum spurting out of him as Johnny rubs against a small bump. The blond raises an eyebrow as Peter sobs out, confused.
“Oh! OH, fuck–”
Johnny doesn’t relent though, ignoring the gentle whimpers as he pushes his fingers deeper, making sure to push and stretch as much as he can.
“Fuck off, fuck you. Inside me, come on–”
“Sunshine, I don’t think you're ready–”
Peter kicks his backside with his ankle, and Johnny rolls his eyes as he leans forward and pulls Peter’s softening cock in his mouth. The man yelps, curling forward and gripping soft blond locks.
“Not fair!”
Johnny hums, making Peter gasp and moan. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing, Johnny only barely realized he’s somewhat gay, but he can get the jist of it.
Whatever he is doing is making Peter whimper and moan softly, so he’s not doing as bad as he was expecting.
The brunet is curled over him, his hands in fists as he sobs into blond hair. He’s whimpering Johnny’s name, telling him how good it feels.
He pulls back, finally happy that he’s got Peter back at full hardness. Peter only shakes and stutters as he takes Johnny’s hands into his, looking up at the man with his big gentle eyes.
Johnny grabs one of Peter’s shirts, wiping his hands from the lube, and take time to put on his condom. The brunet mumbles when he finishes, and wraps around him like a spider, giggling and kissing Johnny’s face.
“I think I love you?” Peter whispers, his eyes glassy and gentle. Scared, almost. Soft.
Johnny bites his lip, staring into eyes that have seen everything. His hate, his sadness. His anger, all consuming and brutal and hot. Still, Peter saw him as Johnny.
Not the Human Torch. Not the playboy in the media, not anything over dramatic and loud like Johnny wanted everyone to know.
“I think I love you too, sunshine,”
Peter’s eyes glitter, almost like he was close to crying, and Johnny rejecting him would hurt him. Like he realized he wanted this, he wanted Johnny, he wanted everything that comes with this.
Johnny wants it to.
The blond slides his arm under Peter’s leg, bringing him in close and pressing close to the brunet. He kisses his knee, making Peter smile and stare at him as Johnny holds his cock, then presses it into Peter.
The brunet shudders, relaxing and letting Johnny slide into him with very little resistance. He hopes it doesn’t hurt as much as he’s read about it before.
“That’s… a lot,”
“You’re just trying to feed my ego, aren’t you,”
Peter rolls his eyes, and goes to say something, when Johnny presses his hand on his stomach, and slides home. Peter is stiff underneath him, breathing hard and digging his nails into Johnny’s arms. Johnny winces as he feels drops of blood drip down his shoulders, but he smirks as he looks down at his lover.
Peter looks disheveled, in such a gorgeous way. It’s making Johnny almost cum immediately, and he can’t have that. He grips the base of his cock, almost painfully, to get himself to not finish like he’s a virgin again.
Well… technically…?
“Fuck, fuck… pretty boy, I can’t–” Peter is shaking, curled towards Johnny, the sun to his orbit. His hands won't stay still, shaking against Johnny’s shoulder and hip where he holds the blond close.
“Me? Pretty boy? You're the one who looks beautiful taking my cock,” He whispers, pulling out slowly and making Peter gasp. Brown eyes look down at where Johnny is, watching him as he thrusts.
In and out, slow and steady. He wants this to last, he wants to make Peter feel like he matters. LIke he’s not a quick fuck like all those other bosomed girls with pretty faces.
Though enjoyable, do those girls know about Johnny? Do they know about the scar bisecting his chest, about the way that he screams and cries at night? The way that he knows what it feels like to have his organs outside his body?
Do they know about how even without knowing how much he loved Peter, he wouldn’t hesitate to take a bullet for him?
Do they know who Johnny is? Not the Human Torch, the persona he curated to hide the crippling depression and dysphoria and anger and resentment, no do they know Johnny?
“Pretty boy, my pretty boy. Where are you?”
Johnny has tears rolling down his face, looking down at Peter, who cups his face and smiles up at him.
His hands are shaking as Peter leans forward, kissing him deep and lovingly. Like he belonged in Johnny’s arms, in his bed. Johnny melts into Peter, wrapping his arms around him as he thrusts into him, wanting to have Peter. Wanting Peter to have him.
He’ll give him anything. Everything. Down to the unstable molecules, and to the strawberry blond locks on his head.
“I’m here. I’m here,” Peter whispers as Johnny groans, and digs his face into his shoulder. He’s pressing hickeys into his tan skin, wanting proof that he did this, that Peter trusted him and loved him.
It’s gentle, different from all those other times. The women he’d been with want all the rumors, and Johnny delivered. But here, in Peter’s arms, he can tell he doesn’t want the rumors.
Peter hums, meeting his thrusts and kissing him where it aches. It leaves him hot, leaves him wanting more.
It doesn’t last long, really. What was Johnny expecting? He’s never really made love to anyone, no matter how much he wants to say that he has, wants to pretend he’s loved more than he’s lusted.
Peter whimpers underneath him, sobbing as Johnny’s hands squeeze and pull at Peter’s cock, milking him for his ending. Johnny follows with a gasp, tears blinked out of his vision.
They’re breathing in each other’s face, not getting enough. Peter whispering words of affirmation, telling him about his love, about his heart. His hand doesn’t move away from his chest, feeling the gentle thp-thp-thp of his heart, feeling Johnny break in his hands, and following right along.
There’s silence.
Sticky and sweaty, and loving, Johnny kisses Peter’s cheek. He giggles gently, and pats his shoulder.
“Gimme ten minutes and ill be ready to go,”
“Oh, fuck yeah,”
Peter is groaning as Johnny lifts his hips, slamming into him as Peter grips his pillow. He’s biting it so hard, he thinks he might rip a chunk out of it. His brown eyes are lost behind his head, and Johnny has never seen a more beautiful sight as Peter rips his bedsheets.
“Oh, FUCK,”
“I’ll buy… you new ones just…. Don’t stop–” Johnny wants to say more, but it seems that Peter understands as he adjusts, leaning back towards Johnny, who reaches out and grips his locks and thrusts so hard the bed squeeks.
“Johnny, Johnny, oh–!” Peter is meeting his movements with his own, tears rolling down his face in over stimulation, but does not tell Johnny to stop. Instead, he bites his lip and smiles as he looks back at Johnny.
“You’re killing me, sunshine–”
Peter only squeezes him, making Johnny groan.
There’s sweat pouring down his face and Johnny is having a hard time breathing. There had been a time when he had had asthma, and apparently the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is fucking him back into it.
Peter is not doing any better, face in the pillow, breathing just as hard. There are marks on his cute ass, and hickeys covering every part of his shoulders.
The silence is full of cars beeping, of birds chirping. The sun is almost up and both him and Peter are lying beside each other, hands only clasped together. The sun is slowly rising through Peter’s cracked window, signifying that they’ve been at this for more than a couple hours.
“... Again?”
A deep, lingering sigh from Peter as he lifts his face. Tear tracks are dried on his face, and there's some snot on his face from getting too excited to learn to suck dick. He sniffs gently, looking at Johnny’s big blue eyes, and he grunts.
“... Ten minutes,”
Johnny jumps onto him, making Peter yell.
“Oh boy,”
Peter is curled up next to Johnny, who is smiling and looking like the cat who got the cream. Peter is softly snoring in his sleep, in a jacket a little too big for him.
Sue is staring at the brunet, then the blond, who won’t stop smiling and looking like the sun is directly beaming out of his ass. Ben is looking at both of them over his cartoonishly small glasses, and sighing as he looks over at Reed, who sighs deeply.
Quietly, he pulls out a 20 dollar bill and hands it to Sue, and Ben follows with 40.
