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The darkness has eyes.
This was a universal truth but one that seemed born from Gotham and her perpetual shroud, as if even the sun struggled to reach through the murk and conflict and shadows.
It was also a truth Peter knew more than most people for a multitude of reasons.
Tonight the darkness had two eyes, vivid-bright blue like a summer sky trapped behind gossamer glass.
They were wolf's eyes.
Hunter's eyes.
Peter had the eyes of a doe; dark, sweet, trusting.
Prey's eyes.
Those hunter’s eyes were following him, observing from a distance his aimless exploration of the city. Gotham’s dank was so different to the glossy veneer of New York, as if the very shadow of his homeplace.
Even so Gotham had her thrills, attractions Peer was determined to make the most of during his limited stay. He’d dressed for a day of unorthodox tourism, too. Vans, knee-high socks, baby blue varsity jacket. Admittedly he stuck out in Gotham’s general gloom, but all the better to catch the eye, right?
And caught the wolf’s eye he had.
He turned a corner and stopped as he realized his directionless roaming had led him straight into a dead-end alley somewhere in the middle-ground of Gotham. Far out enough from most people, but close enough that a few blocks over he could still hear the traffic.
“Oops,” he muttered, heart ticking up as adrenaline dumped into his veins, breathing shallowing.
Cornered.
He took a step back, then another, and hit a brick wall.
A brick wall that breathed, low thunder rumble vibrating through a thick, solid chest as two arms wrapped around him, tight as a boa.
“What’s a place like you doin’ in a twink like this, Princess?”
Peter took a moment to lean back against the stony muscle behind him, feeling the dig of body armor and what could be a gun, erection or both digging into the small of his back. How many weapons did he have today? Ten? Twenty?
“Must’ve gotten lost,” he murmured with a grin, unable to stop one corner of his mouth fighting upward. He tipped his head back a little, blinking up through his lashes. Then he rose to his tip-toes as if for a kiss, adjusting his grip on the thick biceps around his chest.
And then he threw his weight forward, down, flipped the body twice his size over his shoulder and spun, dropping into a crouch with one knee on a broad, barrel chest. He grinned, wide and sweet.
“Always getting told not to wander. Aunt May says bad men in dark alleys will want to do unspeakable things to me,” he teased.
Jason cocked his head, smirking up at him. “Aunt May was right,” he purred, setting his hands on Peter’s hips. He looked gorgeous sprawled out like this, lock of snow-frost hair in his eyes, six-four body open and inviting.
Fucking in an alley was probably a bad idea.
Right?
He rocked his hips a little, smirking. “Ruh-oh. Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?”
Jason’s answering smile was wicked. Both, it promised.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the protector in the darkness?” Peter asked curiously, shifting a little and sinking so he was straddling Jason’s trim hips, hands planted right over his chest armor and the insignia crafted into it. Even with Jason laying down he felt tiny by comparison, legs spread wide to accommodate.
Jason’s smirk angled. “Think you might’ve misheard, honey. I’m the predator in the darkness.” He reached up, butter-soft leather-gloved hand closing around Peter’s throat, the other hand pulling away from his thigh to brace himself as he pushed upward.
Peter found himself lifted, held, easy as if he weighed no more than a feather. He gripped at Jason’s thick forearm with a breathless giggle as he was hoisted up, resettled on Jason’s hip as the man unfolded himself to his full height. It was like wrapping your legs around a wild stallion, Peter thought distantly.
It took Jason two steps to press him up against the rough brick of the wall, quite literally between a rock and a hard place as the older, larger man stepped in close and blinked down at him, syrup slow and assessing.
Peter tipped his head back against the wall and smiled sweetly, squeezing his fingers tighter around Jason’s arm. Physically, Peter was the stronger one, but it was only the spider bite that afforded him that. Jason was all muscle, broad shoulders, tucked in waist, thighs like concrete pillars.
The armor bulked him out even more, metal plates and kevlar, thick leather jacket, holsters on his hips and thighs. A gun dug into the underside of Peter’s thigh and the handle of a knife dug against his hip. If Mr. Stark or Aunt May ever found out Peter was fucking someone like this, let alone fucking at all, he’d never be allowed out of the house again.
“Where’d you keep goin’ in there, kitten?” Jason asked, one gloved finger tapping at Peter’s temple.
“Thinking about you,” Peter answered sweetly, draping his arms over Jason’s shoulders. There was a new thin, healing scar over one brow, trailing down to his eye. A day or two old, if Peter’s guesses about Jason’s healing factors were accurate.
Jason cocked a brow, leaning in closer, ducking down to brush their noses together. “Oh? Anything about me in particular?”
“Maybe,” Peter teased, tugging on Jason’s jacket lightly.
“Gonna kiss and tell?” Jason asked with a purr, pressing in closer, squeezing him tighter against the brick. It made Peter feel miniscule; pressed in, smothered.
It made him feel fucking fantastic.
“I’ll do you one better,” he vowed with a giggle. “I’ll kiss and show.”
He tipped his head up, one hand fisting in the silky locks at the back of Jason’s head to pull him down. The first kiss was mostly chaste, a sort of welcome home without words. Jason’s lips were plush, soft, the faint hint of mint gum still lingering.
Jason had started wearing the same fruity chapstick as Peter. So I can always taste you even when we’re apart.
The next kiss was less chaste.
Gentle was a rare quality in Jason, but it always seemed inherently present around Peter, like the way you were with a flower or glass. Always aware at any moment it could break. It was a fragility that, when he’d first met Jason, Peter hadn’t been sure he had the capability for.
It existed alongside this ravenous, careless beast, a creature driven to consume. It awoke in the way Jason nipped at his lower lip, a sharp spike of pain blurred by the pleasure of Jason pressed against him, hard angles and firm muscle, the heat moving sluggish through Peter’s veins.
Every single time he was with Jason it felt like the first time he’d jumped off a building after getting the bite. The swoop of the freefall, the blissful suspended moment of ultimate power. The pinpoint between life and potential death.
Jason kissed like he was on that precipice, like he was suspended in that freefall. Soft sucks on Peter’s tongue, teeth on his lower lip. Large hands digging into the soft flesh at his thigh, his tummy, his shoulder. Jason hiked him up higher, shunting him up the wall, groaning into Peter’s mouth as it ground them together and Peter gripped at him, hiccupping a soft sound.
“Missed you,” Jason purred into his mouth, grip tightening on Peter’s thigh as he ground up against him, the firm bulk of his length sliding against Peter’s ass. He did it again, firm movement forcing a gasp from Peter’s throat.
“Missed this more,” the older man teased him, body rocking a little when Peter tugged his hair.
“Maybe I missed yours more too,” Peter burred, tightening his legs to feel the bulk of Jason’s holster and gun dig in.
“Oh? Missed my what, Kitten?” Jason asked, head tilting, dropping to nip at the hinge of Peter’s jaw.
“This,” Peter clarified, reaching down between them, dragging his fingertips over the ridge of Jason’s cock. The kevlar pants were rough under his touch, scratched at the insides of his thighs and not for the first time he wished he didn’t heal so fast.
“You want that, Princess?” Jason asked, tipping his head up so their gazes met, grinding into him again to watch Peter shiver and whimper. “Alright, honey. I’ll let you have it.”
He let Peter down slowly so he rode the length of his bulge the whole way down, setting him on his feet before gripping him and spinning him. Jason was kind enough to move his hand so Peter’s cheek hit his glove and not the scratchy brick, and then one muscular arm slid between his thighs and hitched his right leg into the crook of Jason’s elbow, hauling him up until he was on his tiptoes, spine arched and ass pushed back.
“Safeword still homecoming, sweetheart?” Jason asked, nosing along his air and into his hair.
“Uh-huh,” Peter breathed, doing his best to grind back. “Yours still juicebox?”
“Such a good boy, rememberin’,” Jason purred, and then he carefully pulled his hand from under Peter’s cheek to yank down on the waistband of his shorts, revealing the blue cotton panties beneath.
“Gonna kill me, kitten,” he groaned, thumbing over the lace hem before he let Peter’s leg drop carefully, stroking over slim thighs and hips before he eased his shorts and panties down over the curve of his ass.
“Gonna eat you out later,” he vowed, pinching Peter’s ass lightly to watch the area flush pink. “Wish I brought a plug. Just gonna have to fill you up again after so I got some garnish on my meal.”
Peter mewled and tucked his head down, squeezing his eyes shut as Jason used his thumbs to pull his cheeks apart. There was a beat of silence, then—
“Well, well, well. What’ve we got here, hm? Naughty little kitten, greedy little cunt’s already so wet for me,” Jason sighed in mock-admonishment, running the supple leather over Peter’s pink little hole where he was already shiny with lube, the used flesh caving easily for him.
“Was hoping you’d be around,” Peter admitted shyly. He reached back, pawing at Jason, wiggling his hips so his ass bounced a little. “C’mon, Wolf. Don't make me wait? Please?”
“Damn. Y’know I can’t resist a pretty boy beggin’,” Jason burred, pressing his thumb in just a little before wiping it on Peter’s hip
He hitched his leg up again then used his other hand to pull at his zipper and the buckle of his pants, hissing in relief when the tight pressure eased. Peter whined and writhed impatiently beneath him, turning his head to try and catch a glimpse as Jason freed himself.
Jason was proportional all over, thick, long, solid. The first time Peter’d ever seen his length he’d cried a little, certain it would never fit and Jason would abandon him for someone with more experience, but over time he’d grown to crave it. Not even the toys he’d bought for the days they were apart could compare.
Jason pressed up against him again, hot length settling in the groove between his asscheeks, heavy and promising. Peter arched back into it, felt the velvet skin slide against his own. A shift smeared a thin trail of pearlescent slick along the small of his back and Jason reached forwards, rubbing it into his skin.
“Gonna do something or do I gotta take control?” Peter teased, wiggling his hips to try and entice Jason into moving.
“I’d like to see you try, kitten,” Jason grinned at him, ducking down to kiss his temple before he gripped himself and shifted, letting his cock trace down Peter’s ass, pressing deeper with each inch until the velvet tip was lined against his tight, pink rim.
“C’mon. Do it,” Peter sighed, shifting again, gripping at Jason’s huge bicep.
“Ask nice for it, kitten, and I might let you have it,” he grinned, rocking his hips a little to teasingly press harder, to give and take, gentle pressure and retreat. The temptation to simply sink in was almost overwhelming but the desire to hear Peter beg for it was stronger.
“Gonna be mean to me, Jase?” Peter pouted, trying to press back. Jason moved his hips away, left him wanting still. “I’ve been so good waiting. Haven’t touched myself, just like you said. Don’t I deserve my reward?”
“Oh, don’t pull my heartstrings like that,” Jason sighed, pouting as he pressed in closer, using his hand on Peter’s hip to pull him back against him. He draped over Peter, tucking his nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as he finally gave in to what they were both desperate for.
Sinking into Peter was the closest Jason knew he’d ever come to heaven. It was a unique sensation all its own, to press in slowly, to feel the tight suction, blazing heat, sweet silk envelop him, submersion in divinity.
He let out a low growl, setting his teeth on Peter’s shoulder in a gentle hold as he eased his hips forwards. There weren’t enough words in the world to describe the feeling of it. It always felt like he was going to split Peter right in half, or keep sinking in until he was at the backs of his teeth.
“S’good, kitten,” he managed, grip tightening on his hip and his arm. “Feels so good. Always do.”
“Hurry up,” Peter whimpered, planting his hands against the wall to push back, impaling himself on the last two inches. It punched a moan from him, hiccupped and soft as he leaned back against Jason, trusting him to hold him safe.
“So greedy,” Jason chided teasingly, trailing soft kisses along his neck. “Love that about you, sweetheart. Little whore for it, jus’ for me.”
“Who’re you calling a whore?” Peter gasped as Jason rocked his hips, but there was no venom behind it as he arched and shivered, deeply approving of the way Jason’s thick length shifted within him, fulfilling and searing.
Could you suffocate from anal? Peter might.
“If you don’t move I’ll tell Tony we’re fucking,” he threatened, breathy and high. Jason’s laugh pressed their bodies together and he keened, trying to grind back.
“Should’ve threatened to tell Batsy. Only thing that scares me is the fact he’s got Big Blue on a leash,” Jason burred, readjusted his stance and grip before he nosed behind Peter’s ear. “Ready for a ride, pretty face?”
Peter could only manage a sound, assenting sound, and there was a moment of pause where Jason simply stopped to breathe him in, to appreciate the sensation of their join, before the larger man snapped his hips with a single-minded focus.
Peter felt like he was being carved out, displaced, hollowed to be filled with the velvet heat and weight of Jason inside him. It banked a simmering heat inside him that seeped through his veins like liquid fire, intoxicating, burning. It stole the breath straight from his lungs and left him limp in Jason’s hold, incapable of doing anything except taking.
The brick was scraping at his forearms and his chin and jaw but the sharp edge of pain only heightened and sharpened the pleasure, fuel on the fire, little sparks and shockwaves that rippled through his body and threatened to set him alight.
“H-harder,” he hitched, pressing back to meet each of Jason’s punishing thrusts. It wasn’t even half as hard as he knew the older man could go, it was a teasing taste of the true power under that armor, but even so it threatened to split him down the middle and leave him useless for anything.
“As you wish, Princess,” Jason obliged with a grunt, nails biting pink crescents into his skin as he ground forwards then pumped his hips harder, the sharp slap of skin on skin echoing through the alley.
Anyone could walk past. Any number of powered persons could look down on them from above. Gotham was exactly the sort of place where sordid sounds from a dark alley would draw people in rather than chase them away.
And shit if Peter wouldn’t even care about being seen like this.
Pants down, stuffed full of cock, fucked up against the wall in a filthy alley by the Red Hood.
Tony would take the suit away again for sure.
“Where’d you want it, kitten?” Jason murmured lowly, bringing him out of his untethered fantasizing and back to the gouging heat within him, the velvet drag of skin, the way Jason’s cock throbbed as he slowed to an almost lazy, rubbing grind.
“Inside,” Peter managed, voice wobbly as he pawed at Jason’s arm. “Deep enough I can taste it.”
“Mm, I think I can manage that,” Jason’s grin was lecherous, wolfish as he stepped in closer until Peter was right up on his toes, squeezed tight between Jason and the wall. It seemed to drive Jason impossibly deeper, so much so Peter was tempted to look down, wondering if he was swollen and distended with the fullness.
(Wasn’t that a thought?)
Jason settled his grip on Peter and more or less began to lift him up and down on his cock, like he was little more than a toy for his own pleasure. Lift, drop. Repeat. Short-sharp movements that left Peter scrabbling for purchase, writhing and sobbing as it felt like Jason was rearranging his insides.
His own cock throbbed neglected and needy against his tummy, trapped by Jason’s arm and dripping fluid wet as any girl. He ached to be touched, knew it would feel so good if Jason let him get a hand on himself, but Jason was rarely so generous.
As if reading his mind, Jason ran his thumb over the ridge of Peter’s hipbone.
“Gonna cum like this or m’gonna leave you wanting,” he panted, voice edged with the snarl of a predator as he thrust into Peter, mechanical, driven, determined.
“Not gonna be a problem!” Peter gasped, doing his best to bounce on each thrust. All of his senses felt like they’d been cranked to the max and he couldn’t focus on anything beyond the tingle of pleasure, the scrape of the wall, the dig of Jason’s armor.
“Look at you,” the older man marvelled, shoving into him like a wild stallion, a brutal thrust that drove Peter painfully against the brick. “All dolled up and pretty. You dress up for me, cupcake, or did I interrupt a date?”
He thrust again, the same gut-shifting force, and Peter had no words to answer.
“You let someone else touch you, kitten?” Jason continued, razored voice, dragging his nails down Peter’s taut little tummy.
“N-no,” Peter managed, head dropping down, resting his temple against the wall. He could feel his body locking up bit by bit, inching towards that sheer drop into blinding passion.
“Good.”
Jason’s voice was nothing short of a snarl, pure animal as he switched his thrusts to nothing short of the brutalizing force he’d used twice before, vicious and single focused. If Peter wasn’t so aware of his own resilience he might think he’d fall apart.
There was a rumble, a flash of dewy brightness in the air, and then a glob of rainwater landed on Peter’s neck, sliding down under his jacket collar and he jolted in surprise, tightening up in a way that had Jason letting out another feral sound.
“Shit. Like that, baby. Like that.”
Peter tried to hold the tension, leg shaking as the rain began to mist down on them, a pleasant and soothing coolness to the inferno within him. Jason seemed to pay the rain no heed, arm tightening around Peter’s midsection until he thrust once, twice, and Peter cried out as he felt him throb inside, the pulse of his cock as he bred Peter full with thick, creamy heat.
“J-Jason!” he pleaded, and there was a soothing rumble behind him, a low burr as Jason moved his arm and closed his fist around Peter’s slender, pretty cock. He pumped him three times in quick succession and that was all it took.
Jason cursed again behind him as Peter’s own orgasm milked his, dragging out the fizzing aftershocks. Peter’s own spend dripped down the wall, the sleeve of Jason’s jacket, the back of Jason’s hand as Peter slumped against him, solely held up by the larger vigilante’s strength.
“Shit, kitten,” Jason sighed shakily, holding him up, shaking out his hand before he gently carded it through Peter’s hair, kissing at his neck, behind his ear, the point of his jaw. “Gonna be the death of me, one day.”
Peter giggled as Jason slowly set him down, tucked his flushed, spent length back into his shorts. There was the sound of Jason’s zipper, his buckle, and then Peter was gently turned, crowded back against the wall as Jason blinked down at him.
He looked impossible good; fluffy hair slowly soaking through, white streak turning silver in the wet gloom. In contrast to Jason’s nature he looked beautiful and soft in the rainfall, eyes like cut gemstones, cheeks lightly flushed.
“You’re staring,” Jason murmured, ducking over him to shield him from the rain as he ran his gloved thumb over the corner of Peter’s mouth, impossibly gentle.
“Artwork is meant to be admired,” Peter grinned back, tip-toeing to kiss him. Jason tasted like copper, mint and dew. Peter licked the droplets from that plush lower lip, ran his tongue over the healing split dead center where Jason’s latest latest escapade had left its mark.
“Little shit,” Jason sighed into his mouth before he eased back a little, fond smirk curling into something fonder. “Crap. Look at you; Stark’s gonna have an aneurysm.”
Peter’s face had been scraped pink and raw in places, tender to the touch when Jason brushed his knuckles against the angry marks. He was fast getting soaked through, cheeks stained scarlet, and there was no guessing what he’d been doing to wind up looking like this.
“I’ll think of an excuse,” Peter grinned, kissing him again.
“C’mon, little spider. I’ll walk you back. Gotta make sure no awful, bad man takes your virtue,” Jason burred after a moment stepping back and pulling Peter with him. “I hear there’s all sorts of perverts around these parts.”
“My hero,” Peter fawned, fluttering his lashes, and Jason stopped them at the mouth of the alley, shrugging off the large, thick leather jacket he wore as standard. It was impossibly warm and heavy and comfortable when he draped it over Peter’s shoulders, pulling it tight around him to block out most of the rain.
“Looks good on you,” Jason observed, tucking him under his arm as he began to lead the way through Gotham’s dank streets.
“It would look even better on my bedroom floor,” Peter answered sweetly. He huddled down in the thick fabric, breathing in Jason’ scent as he was steered out into the main streets. He should definitely get Jason to fuck him while he wore this, he decided. Make it so the man could never wear it again without thinking of all the filthy things they’d done.
“Insatiable,” Jason tutted, clicking his tongue. They were right in view of everyone but Jason still spun him, pressed him gently back against the window of a closed storefront.
“Just the way I like you.”