Work Text:
New York City
11:30pm
Isolated landscapes separated by air and precipitation were a home away from home for Peter Parker. It was a place where he could think, especially when college life launched wave after wave of identity crises. But tonight, he couldn't get much thinking done with the short ball of muscle and fuzz staring eyeing him down.
The breathable spandex of his spider-suit was stretched tautly over Peter’s lean body, and he knew his bulge was beginning to present itself. He had already finished his quippy parting message, and the stranger’s silence was frustratingly hot. He seemed to handle that Sabretooth weirdo just fine, so he should be good to walk himself home. And yet, his feet wouldn’t budge.
C’mon, thought Peter. Any day now, Spider-man.
The remnants of light rainfall padded gently on the rooftop floor, some of which collected in a long-forgotten wheelbarrow filled with spare construction supplies. The sexy stranger stood beside it, brooding in his shredded tank top. His thumbs were tucked into the flannel shirt wrapped around his waist , and Peter caught a glimpse of fuzz peeking above this his denim pants. The gashes splayed across his chest had already disappeared, and Peter realized he was in the presence of a full-fledged mutant.
The way people talk about mutants always disgusted Peter. A few days before, one of his classmates interrupted a symposium to advocate for their elimination. He kept his ears out for any more serious action from people like that on campus not only because it was wrong but, deep down, he wondered if he was a mutant.
"Hey," said Peter. "Do you think you'll be alright? I think I can use some web to make you an umbrella but, I gotta be honest, I don’t think that’s physically possible.
The stranger huffed, raising his eyes as a smirk appeared in the corner of his mouth.
"I'll be fine," said the stranger. He walked a few paces toward Peter, who's pulse quickened with each step. Spidey-senses were definitely not tingling, but horny college boy senses were firing off at all cylinders.
"You a... mutant?" said the stranger. As he got closer, the lights from the buildings overhead cast a faint red glow in his dark eyes. It reminded Peter of a study he read about dying stars, these cosmic pools that reformed into new works of nature. They were, at once, terrifying and beautiful.
"I-I don't know. Maybe” said Peter, stammering over his nerves. "I was bit," he continued, regaining some of his composure, "by a spider, in a lab. I wasn't born with the power to undo being turned into chopped beef like you."
The stranger chuckled that quickly settled into a low, barely perceptible growl.
Now Peter's dick had graduated from chub to boner. Fffuck, he thought, resisting the urge to rub his thighs together and relieve the tension building in his hips.
"Logan," said the stranger. Now, he was close enough to cast a faint hint of whiskey and cigars from his mouth.
"I'm... Spiderman," said Peter. He dared a glimpse down to see that Logan was scratching his balls through his pants, but the way his hand lingered, lazily gripping his crotch, was driving Peter wild.
"Well, Spiderman," said Logan, leaning forward to press his bare chest against Peter's. "whenever I get into it with some shithead, the adrenaline in my body won't stop pumpin' away. It leaves me feeling... hungry for more… Y’know what I mean?”
Peter gulped and shuddered when Logan gently squeezed his shoulder. His grip was firm and promised safety. There was something else about this guy, something about the way he smelled. It was a mixture of metal and musk that was noticeable even in the pouring rain.
Logan moved his hand from Peter's shoulder to the side of his face, tracing the jawline wrapped in graphene and carbon.
"This thing come off?" asked Logan.
"I'm kinda shy. Secret identities, and all,” said Peter. He knew the chances were slim to none about anybody recognizing him on a fucking rooftop, but this was too close to campus and anyone from campus could see him from any of the looming buildings overhead.
A sharp snap clinched his left nipple, and a gentle whimper escaped his lips. Buckling knees brought him closer to Logan, whose hands were exploring his costumed body. His touch was gentle despite the blades hiding in his fists.
Before he could even form the thought, Peter reached up with his hands and lifted his mask just so that his mouth would be available.
"You got a pretty fuckin' mouth, bub," whispered Logan as he dragged his thumb across Peter's lips, which maintained a breathy pout.
Suddenly, a coarse brush of facial hair rubbed into Peter's chin as Logan leaned in for a deep kiss. Their tongues firmly groped each other, and the loud smacking of their lips sent a cold stab of adrenaline through Peter's body.
When Logan pulled away, Peter desperately searched for the warm fleshy feeling in the air. He opened is eyes, seeing a string of saliva connecting their mouths.
"You jerk off in that thing?" asked Logan, gesturing to Peter's spider-suit.
"Sometimes," said Peter. "after a fight I get a little excited. Most of the time I can make it to my dorm and jerk off in the showers at night. But... y'know, sometimes this ballet costume makes my dick so damn sore and I find myself ducking to a rooftop like this one and I always forget to carry napkins or something with me and I just end up splooging in my tights... "
For six painful seconds, Peter dreamt of having the power to rewind time or suck the words back into his mouth. The way Logan kept focus on the massive mound growing between Peter's tights made him ramble.
"Strip," said Logan.
Peter's chest tightened and sharp wisps of air quickly passed through his clenched teeth. He glanced at the empty windows that sparsely peppered the buildings around them.
"Don't worry," said Logan. "We'll be quick. You can even leave the mask on."
Peter eagerly nodded and peeled the spider-suit from his body, which was something he looked forward to on a daily basis. The release from the compression was the ultimate relief. When he finally got to his underwear, a dark spot of pre-cum appeared at the tip of his dick.
A gust of frigid wind reminded him of the danger. He briefly imagined the headline Spider-man Busted for Public Indecency splashed across the front page of the Daily Bugle. But the excitement was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It couldn’t even top swinging between skyscrapers at 60 miles per hour. His nipples were erect, screaming for another pinch. He could hear the sound of Logan’s blood pumping into his thickening cock, and Peter craved more.
Logan nodded firmly and Peter dipped his hands in the waistband of his underwear. They obediently slid down, and he kicked them away with his foot.
An impressed whistle flew from Logan's lips as he took in an eye-full of Peter's thick eight inches. A clear droplet of pre-cum dripped to the ground, leaving a thin trail in its path. Peter couldn't recall when Logan unzipped his pants, but he was pulling at his hefty dick wrapped in foreskin. Peter's mouth felt empty and wanting. He needed to know how this man tasted.
Logan made a few long strides to stand in front of Peter's mostly-naked body. He felt his breath quicken, and the mask began to feel like plastic wrap. He usually didn't have problems breathing in this thing, but fuck this guy was hot.
"You suck dick," whispered Logan.
Peter couldn't tell if it was a question or a command, but either way the answer was yes. He licked his lips and knelt down on the ground to take Logan into his mouth.
First, he peeled the skin back to expose the shiny head, slick with pre-cum. A waft of musk filled his nostrils and spit pooled in the front of his mouth. A small bush of curly black hair trailed from Logan’s stomach to the base his dick, promising much *much* more. He opened his mouth to taste the tip. It had a clean, almost salty taste and Peter couldn't help but take the whole thing down his throat in one motion.
Peter didn't realize it until this very moment but, in the back of his mind, he fantasized about sucking cock. He yearned to know how it felt to be filled up by another man. He also just realized that his superpowers gave him the ability to control the muscles in his throat. Desperate to please, he squeezed them around Logan's dick.
"Wait," Logan said, his hips recoiling from the sudden rush of pleasure. He gently placed his hands on Peter's shoulders. "I don't wanna cum yet."
A huff of air passed through Peter's nose, giggling to know that he was being a perfect slut for this stranger. He relaxed his throat and let Logan slide out.
Logan moved his hands to Peter's head.
"I'll control it," said Logan. He shifted his hips to angle his dick back into Peter's mouth and slowly thrusted in and out. Peter felt his hands go limp at his sides and let Logan take control. His nose rubbed against Logan’s thick, wiry bush with each thrust.
The pace increased, and Peter felt his eyes tear up. His face became hot, and he wished that Logan could keep fucking his skull until the end of time.
Peter glanced up and saw Logan's hairy chest covered in the ambient glow of the city. His tight pecs rippled as he massaged Peter's head, eyes closed and lost in pleasure.
Again, Logan pulled himself out of Peter's mouth while unfastening his pants. They slid off and caused a tinge of excitement fluttered through Peter's stomach when he realized Logan wasn't wearing underwear. His low-hanging balls swung a bit as he kicked his pants to the side.
Logan leaned over Peter, teasing his dick away from Peter's mouth, and Peter felt rough hands lightly grazing down his back and approach the crack of his ass. He instinctively thought to give pause, but the curiosity that burned between his thighs stopped him from telling Logan to stop.
"Probably should've asked before," said Logan. The excitement pulled his voice from a whisper to a low roar. "How far do you wanna go?"
Peter shifted his lower back to help Logan's finger find the spot.
"To be honest," said Peter, his voice trembling and wet with lust. "I don't want to get fucked, per say. But I trust you, even though I just met you- which is weird. Fingers are good, but make sure you have those claws on lockdown. Cool?”
Logan smirked. His finger slid into Peter's mouth, coating it with spit. Peter thought of how much his index finger resembled the length and girth of his cock. He slid his tongue around Logan's finger, and a garbled moan slipped between his lips.
Burly fingers trailed down Peter's trembling torso, teasing his dick and balls. Logan knelt down to face Peter, reaching between his thighs and massaging the small, sensitive patch of skin between his legs. The pressure on his prostate caused another gush of pre-cum to leak from his dick.
Jeeze he thought. What a man.
Logan kept eye-contact as he found Peter's opening and rubbed firmly with an occasional press, checking his readiness. Peter caught another whiff of whiskey from Logan's beard, and fell into his face, their lips locking once more.
In the thrall, Peter swirled his hips to match Logan's rhythm. It felt so good, he pressed his ass down to welcome Logan inside.
A sharp breath escaped from Peter's mouth when he felt the entrance, but the initial discomfort faded into a gooey pleasure. He felt Logan's second knuckle pass through and his head fell back to submit to the euphoria.
"Good boy," said Logan. He leaned his head over Peter's right nipple and licked the fleshy peak, nibbling every so often.
The words sent Peter's mind into a mist of warm colors. He hadn't known this kind of pleasure was possible. Slowly, he bobbed his ass to see what it was like to get fucked. It felt incredible.
"Good boy," said Logan. "Bounce on it for me."
Suddenly, coarse facial hair rubbed against his chin and a wet tongue darted into his mouth and massaged his own. A hot rush blazed from the sweet spot in Peter’s ass to his heaving chest. Logan’s lips were gentle, like he was merely resting them on Peter’s own. He expected the kiss to hurt a little- teeth bumping, saliva slobbering over their nude chests. But this rough-looking stranger kissed with the tenderness of sea foam.
The sound of drunk twenty somethings echoed between the buildings. They must’ve stumbled out of one of the bars below and, despite their distance, Peter felt another rush of adrenaline at the idea of someone catching him getting fingered in public. Almost by intuition, Logan curled his finger to hit Peter’s sweet spot with a firmer rub.
“Fuck,” whispered Peter. “I’m gonna-”
He gasped when he felt a sudden emptiness in his hole.
“Not yet, bub” said Logan. He shifted his body to lay flat on his back, his hairy thighs spread wide open. His thick cock flapped against his hairy stomach while his balls hung to barely cover his puckering hole. “Get to work.”
Peter leaned in and inhaled Logan’s scent, opening his mouth just enough to taste his balls. His eyes landed on the brown opening and the urge to taste it compelled him to give a long, savoring lick. Logan’s thighs shuddered around Peter’s head.
“That’s it,” purred Logan.
Desperate to please, Peter lapped away and savored the tangy flavor of Logan’s hole. His hands explored the writhing body in front of him, feeling the furry stomach that hosted an ocean of taut, pulsating muscles. When he got to the nipples, Peter’s hanging dick twitched and another stream of pre-cum leaked from the tip.
He adjusted his mask, which was starting to block his breathing due to how wet it became. While his tongue plunged into Logan’s velvety insides, he wondered how many times he’d have to put this mask through the washing machine.
Without looking, he wrapped his hand around Logan’s throbbing cock and massaged the head with his thumb and index finger, spreading slick fluids over the bulbous head. Logan’s thighs trembled every time his fingers changed direction.
“I’m ready,” said Logan. “Fuck me.”
Those four words triggered a deep memory in Peter’s mind. He’d just gotten back to his dorm from a friendly hang with MJ and he saw a man with the same height and build as Logan jogging through the park outside his window. The way that man’s ass bounced up and down with a little tuft of hair above the crack made him go feral. That night, he jerked off for two hours fascinating about fucking a tight furry ass.
“Y’know,” said Logan. “We only do this if you want to.”
Peter gave a self-assured nod and rubbed the tip of his cock on Logan’s pulsating opening. The texture of smooth skin and thick hair was almost too much for him and he had to cloud his thoughts with images of unsexy things like laundry to keep from cumming.
Logan’s warm hand, already slick with spit, grabbed Peter’s cock and gently guided it into himself. Peter shuddered at the smoothness. He plunged deeper, further enveloping himself in Logan’s warmth and conjured a deep purr from the burly stranger beneath him.
“That’s it,” whispered Logan. “Good fuckin’ boy…”
A bubbly sensation flooded Peter’s stomach when Logan uttered his affirmations. He pressed his hips deeper inside, causing Logan’s hands to grip his back. He wanted Peter to fill him to an impossible degree.
Sweat dripped from Peter’s face onto Logan’s forehead as he pumped away at his guts, fucking him into oblivion. He leaned to kiss, and the taste of Logan’s mouth caused his pace to quicken. The sound of Peter’s balls slapping against Logan’s rock-hard ass bounced between the concrete walls of the city.
“Fu-Ithinki-,” stuttered Peter.
“Cum inside me,” grumbled Logan. “I’m gonna shoot, too.”
Peter’s balls tightened as he unloaded two days’ worth of cum. A mess of warmth coated his stomach while he gave the last few thrusts.
The two embraced each other, feeling the world slowly reshape itself to its original form. Peter let his mind wander to what this man liked for breakfast. What was his favorite movie? Does he even watch movies?
“Gotta get back to…where I stay,” said Logan, gently tapping Peter’s bare back.
“Oh, uh… right,” said Peter. He slowly pulled his softening dick out of Logan and rose to grab his spider-suit.
After Logan used his t-shirt to wipe up the cum, he dressed himself again and gave Peter a sly smirk.
“Thousand bucks says you have the cutest fuckin’ eyes,” he said, giving Peter a wink before descending the rusted fire escape along the building.
You sure know how to pick ‘em, Parker, thought Peter as he swung through the Manhattan streets, wondering if he’d ever get a chance with someone like that again.