Friday nights, according to Ned, are the best time of the week. Friday nights are to ones he has reserved for doing absolutely nothing beside hanging out in his room and playing Overwatch from the comfort of his beanbag chair. That is, when he’s not playing Peter’s guy in the chair, or building Lego, or doing any other million fun things.
He’s lucky in that he gets to stay up as late as he wants. Technically he still has a bedtime of eleven, but his mother takes a sleeping pill every night and his dad sleeps like a literal rock after they go to bed at eight. Which means he pretty much has free reign.
Sometimes Peter might call him when he’s bored on patrol, but he is completely, honestly, not expecting it when Peter pulls up the window of the townhouse he and his parents live in at three in the morning and slides his way in.
Ned quits his match immediately. Peter is in the full-on spider-man costume when he enters, but as soon as the window is closed he rips off the mask and throws it on Ned’s floor. He’s panting like he just ran a marathon.
“Holy shit, are you ok?” Ned says as he nearly leaps up and rushes over to his best friend. He feels Peter’s pulse and it is raced to what must be an unhealthy degree. Plus, his eyes are dilated, and if there’s one thing that fiction has taught his it’s that dilated eyes are not a good thing and probably mean a concussion.
“Shit, Peter, it’s ok, I’ll call Happy, he can get you to a hospital or something.”
He moves to turn away, except Peter surges up against Ned’s searching hands and kisses him, wildly, desperately. For a second, Ned can’t think. His mind is a never-ending rotation of what what what and his hands are still cradling Peter’s head. Peter presses the rest of his body up against Ned, nearly into him, and wow, that costume really does not hide anything.
Ned breaks the kiss out of a sheer need to breathe. He looks at his friend, and shit, dilated pupils are also a sign of arousal, aren’t they? And then his mind is once again occupied, because Peter is kissing him again, except this time he’s turning his head to get a better angle and his leg is between Ned’s thighs, pressing up against his increasingly interested dick, oh god.
The kiss is better this time, and Ned has to wonder if the one before was Peter’s first kiss. Ned knows it was his. It’s getting better by the second and Ned only snaps back to reality when he feels Peter’s hand cupping his thigh and inching its way upward.
“No!”, he nearly shouts, only managing to cut it off when he remembers his parents that are still sleeping on the other side of the house. He holds his best friend away from him at arm’s length, and Peter squirms, nearly writhes in his arms.
Ned knows that there is something left of Peter in there, because he could so, so easily overpower Ned and go back to . . . he doesn’t even know. Molesting him?
“Peter,” Ned says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, given the circumstances, “Did something happen tonight? Get knocked in the head? Eat anything strange?”
Peter seriously does not look good. He is pale and shaking in Ned’s grip and his arms come up to wrap around Ned’s, like they’re trying to anchor Peter in place.
“Fought an alien guy,” Peter says, like he’s trying to catch his breath, “Sprayed some gas, I don’t know. Ned please, I need you, it hurts!”
“What hurts, Pete?” Ned says.
“Everything!” Peter says, wild, “Everything itches, need to touch you, please. Need you in me now, please, I’m gonna die Ned, please!”
Ned can only stare.
“Holy shit, you’ve been sex pollen’d.”
That is, apparently, enough talking for Peter, who shoves Ned’s hands off his shoulders and attaches his mouth to Ned’s neck. Ned moans uncontrollably, because goddamn, who knew there was a practical reason for hickeys, in that they felt awesome.
Peter detaches himself and licks the already forming bruise, swirling his tongue around the already forming bruise before moving on to exploring the rest of Ned’s neck and collarbone, all the while murmuring things like ‘please, please, please, need you, need you so bad, please’.
Holy fucking shit.
There should be a manual for this crap. The Superhero’s Normal Friend manual, and in it would be useful information, like chapters giving advice on things such as what to do if your superhero friend is given alien roofies.
Because this is one of those ethical dilemmas for the fucking philosophy books. Ned’s been on the internet for long enough to know that having sex with someone while they are clearly not in their proper mental state and not able to make an informed decision is definitely rape.
But at the same time, Peter really does need help. He’s sweaty in a way that’s not natural for him. He’s panting, and now that Ned is up close and personal, he can hear that Peter’s having trouble breathing. It sounds like bronchitis, but Ned hasn’t known Peter to be sick a day since they’ve met.
Peter apparently got tired for Ned’s neck and collarbone, and was now lifting up Ned’s sleep shirt. He managed feel up one large soft side and give it a firm squeeze before Ned pushed him back again.
“Peter, we’ve got to, to call someone. I’ll call Happy, Mr. Stark, they’ll figure this out-“
“No no nonononono, you can’t call, you can’t Ned,” Peter said, sounding just a bit more lucid now that he didn’t have any direct contact with his best friend. “They’ll just bring me to a lab and I won’t last long enough to find a cure, please. The space man, he said I need to fuck someone or I’ll die. And they’ll just, just say I’m a minor and I can’t have sex and then . . .”
He looked Ned right in the eye.
“You’re the only person who can help me. Please.”
Ned shucks off his shirt and accepts that he’s going straight to hell. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.
Peter immediately attaches himself to one of Ned’s nipples and both of them let out a groan. Ned would have figured that would only be good for a woman, but god was he wrong.
Peter’s hands roam everywhere, pinching and squeezing all of the little bits of Ned that he’s never shown anyone. It feels way better than he thinks groping should, especially when Peter runs his fingers up Ned’s spine and it feels like firecrackers have gone off inside him. He is starting to wonder if maybe the sex dust is contagious or if feeling each other up is just actually this good.
Ned fiddles around for a few seconds and finds the quick release on the costume. Peter takes the hint and let’s go long enough for it to fall to the ground before instantly returning wholeheartedly to the task of making Ned lose his goddamn mind.
Eventually Ned manages to lead them over to the bed, making out and kissing and groping the whole time.
God, Peter had a nice butt. How did he never notice Peter’s butt before now?
Ned knows that he’s never been completely on one edge of the Kinsey scale. Through the very accurate and scientific method of looking at a whole lot of porn, he’d been able to place himself as Bi but probably more interested in girls at the end of the day.
But Peter. Peter is sitting on top of him, straddling his hips, stark naked and grinding against the thin barrier that Ned’s underwear provides between them. He looks like a fucking wet dream.
Peter’s skin is glistening in the soft glow of Ned’s only lamp and his hair is slicked back against his head, only showing the slightest hint of curls at the very tips. Peter’s muscles are all perfectly defined, but not in a chunky sort of way. He is svelte and lean, but the sharp V of his torso leaves no doubt that this is a man. His penis is hard as a rock, jutting out at an obscenely perfect 45° angle.
And best of all, he looks like he wants Ned more than anything else in the world.
Ned already knows that he will masturbate to this memory later, and already hates himself for it.
Luckily, Peter seems to know exactly what he wants. He was insistently tugging at Ned’s one remaining piece of clothing, and Ned lifted up to oblige him. The briefs are off in seconds. Immediately afterward Peter lifts up, grabs hold of Ned’s dick and starts trying to shove it in his ass. This attempt makes very little progress, and Ned can only faintly hear the animalistic whine that forced itself from Peter’s throat.
Now aside from the aforementioned porn, Ned has never experienced any sort of sex, gay or otherwise. But even he knows that this really isn’t going to work.
“Shh, Peter, just a second, wait just a second man. . .” Ned murmurs comfortingly at his distressed friend, even as he reaches over to his bedside drawer. It had been embarrassing at the time, but Ned is so, so grateful that he had worked up the courage to buy lube a few months ago.
He squirts some out into his hand, trying to mainly coat his fingers. He starts with one. Just one finger, slowly pressing against Peter’s entrance, until there is a slight give and the tip pushes through.
“Yeeesssssss,” Peter moans as he pushes back onto the digit. Ned watches as his finger is consumed with a strange fascination. The inside of Peter feels warm, and tight, and bumpy in a way that he knows would feel fucking amazing on his dick.
He thinks that one probably won’t be enough, even if it did go in so easily. Ned may not be packing a monster, but he would say that his dick is at least proportional, and he’s a big guy. So, after Peter takes the one finger to the base, Ned pulls out and attempts again with two this time.
There is the slightest bit more of resistance, but Peter is determined, and soon two of Ned’s fingers are fully incased in his best friend. A thought strikes Ned out of nowhere that this is really, really strange, but at the same time it’s also so hot he can hardly fucking stand it.
Ned opens and closes his fingers a bit in a scissoring motion, and then swirls them in a circle for a bit, trying to prepare Peter as best he can. He doesn’t think that Peter will be particularly inclined to stop for more stretching once the main event starts.
Ned hits something deep inside and Peter nearly collapses. Ah, so that must be the mysterious prostate.
He only barely manages to catch himself, and Ned finds himself staring straight up at his best friend, two of his fingers buried in the guy’s ass. Peter kisses him. Ned kisses back.
As they make out, Ned somehow manages the coordination to add another finger. There are three now, pumping easily in and out of Peter’s ass. Peter is nearly nonverbal. He’s only making soft sounds and moans and whines. Sometimes Ned hears what he thinks might be a please, but he can’t be sure.
Ned thinks about trying for a fourth finger, but Peter is growing more desperate by the second. What was once pants are slowly turning into desperate gasps for air. Ned makes sure to hit that little bundle of nerves he found once more and takes his fingers out.
Peter only takes a second to catch on to the next phase. He sits back up and this time, when he tries to put Ned’s dick in him, it slides in like it was meant to go there.
Ned has never felt this good in his life. Peter is a hot, tight heat surrounding him, engulfing him. Ned distantly thinks that he might never want to be anywhere else for the rest of his life. It’s as close to perfect as a sensation can get, safe and electrifying and warm.
Then Peter moves. In ten seconds, he’s riding up and down, those perfect thighs working under Ned’s hands. Ned almost wants to close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sincere sensation, but he can’t take his eyes off Peter.
Only a few seconds in and Ned can feel his orgasm creeping up on him. No, not creeping, rushing towards him like a tidal wave, and he can’t stop it, he doesn’t have the control, doesn’t know how anyone could. He tries to warn Peter, but Ned chokes on his words as the blissful, white hot heat washes over him and he’s coming and coming.
It’s a burst of fireworks, a flare going off behind his eyes. The sensation is overwhelming, and he can feel the sheer pleasure firing off from his cock straight to his brain by way of the rest of him. Everything is magnetic. Nothing he’s achieved on his own even remotely compares to this, and for the few seconds of his orgasm it’s like nothing in the entire world could be wrong.
It takes a second before he snaps back to reality. Peter is desperately rubbing his cock, still trying to ride Ned’s softening dick, begging him not to stop.
All of a sudden, the sensation is all too much. The rubbing is painful when it had once been pleasurable, and Ned nearly shoves Peter off him. Ned thinks he can hear Peter sob.
“Noooo, Ned, please, Ned, need you so bad, I need it!” Peter whines. His hand is still on his cock and his hips are still moving, rutting against himself wildly. Ned’s dick gives a twitch of excitement at the sight despite itself.
Ned looks at the desperate, fucked out mess laying on the end of his bed. God, Peter even has a small trickle of cum leaking out of his ass. Ned has always thought he would do this with a girl, but his brain isn’t especially involved as he leans down and licks into Peter. He keens and Ned slaps a quick hand over his mouth, trying to quiet him. It barely works.
It’s freaking hot.
Cum didn’t taste very good, but Ned perseveres, and soon there was only the pure taste of Peter left. He tasted like he smelled, warm and slightly chocolaty, with the salty tang of sweat complementing. There was a slight metallic note in the background as well. Ned wondered if that was natural or if it was some sort of residue left by the alien gas.
It’s still quite literally straight out of Ned’s fantasies. Eating out had always featured prominently in his favorite porn, but he had thought the he wouldn’t get to participate for another two years at least. Probably more, seeing as being a fat dork doesn’t exactly go over very well with girls.
This is everything he could have imagined, gender of the participant notwithstanding. Listening to Peter’s moans and gripping that beautiful, perfect ass is straight out of Ned’s fantasies. It occurs to him, distantly, behind layers of lust, and affection, and vague guilt still lingering, that Peter is probably the hottest person he will ever get the chance to sleep with.
Ned licks at the abused hole one last time and begins to work his way up, nuzzling to soft skin of Peter’s balls and finally swallowing down his dick.
This is a mistake.
He has, obviously, never given a blowjob before. And Peter is surprisingly large when he’s hard.
The tip hits the back of Ned’s throat and he gags immediately. He pulls up faster than a bullet train and is, frankly, impressed that he doesn’t throw up all over both his bed and his best friend.
“You ok Ned?”
Peter sounds remarkably lucid, but Ned can hear the raspiness creeping back into his voice. His dick is painfully hard now, such a deep red that it’s edging into purple.
“I’m fine,” Ned says, couching slightly, “let’s just worry about you.”
He falls onto the bed beside Peter and kisses him, hard. He takes the hand that is still covered in lube and begins to jerk Peter off with it. Peter moans into his mouth and begins thrusting up into his friend’s hand. This is at least a little familiar. If nothing else, Ned is very skilled at jerking off. It doesn’t seem like very long at all before Peter’s thrusting stutters and he’s coming all over Ned’s hand.
He doesn’t soften, though his dick does look a bit less raw. Only a few seconds after his orgasm is over he’s back to kissing Ned, cuddling even closer and wrapping his arms around him. Peter seems content to just make out for a while, which is good for Ned, because it gives him time to recover.
Ned’s back up to full mast in about one minute.
Sue him, he’s a teenage boy.
“Ned,” Peter whispers soft and low. He places his leg up between Ned’s thighs and grinds. “Ned, I need you again.”
Ned kisses him tenderly and reaches back behind to see in Peter is still prepared. He likes it more now that Peter is like this, halfway to coherent. It feels like just two friends having fun. Maybe if this alien sex pollen thing had never happened, Peter and he could still have hooked up. He likes to think that. He likes to think that Peter and him can still be friends after all of this stuff is out of Peter’s system.
The lube is mostly gone. Ned slips one finger in to keep Peter satisfied while he reaches for the discarded bottle of lube.
It’s easier to stretch Peter out the second time. Two and then three fingers slip in easily, though Ned still makes sure to thoroughly coat inside. He searches out and finds Peters prostrate, marks it on his mental map and tells himself to his it later. Even though its quicker this time, it’s still not fast enough for Peter, who thrusts back onto Ned’s fingers the entire time and keeps babbling about how he’s “ready, so ready, just give it to me already!”
Finally, Ned gets on his knees, peter’s legs to either side, and rests his dick at Peter’s entrance. They both look each outer straight in the eyes and for a second, it’s not about this all-consuming lust. There’s something softer there. Intimacy. Maybe even something approaching love.
“Ned. . .” Peter starts, but he’s cut off as Ned’s gently pushed forward and in.
Peter let’s out a strangled groan, which turns into a soft, pleasured whimper. Ned can hear the bed squeaking under the movement of his heavy body as he starts to move, slowly thrusting in an out of Peter. Everything slows down. The world seems to move at their pace, instead of them moving with the world.
He aims and hits Peter’s prostate, causing his best friend to give out a scream. He doesn’t even car is his parents wake up at this rate, not when everything feels so good. Ned begins to move faster and Peter starts thrusting up to meet him. They work together perfectly, ratcheting up the pleasure with each thrust.
Ned falls onto his elbows and kisses Peter. His best friend kisses back, lips locked in sync with their thrusting. He can feel Peter’s dick rubbing up against his belly, searching for friction. Every time their lips part, he can hear Peter’s voice, softly chanting his name.
When he’s focusing on finding Peter’s good spot, he can ignore the orgasm creeping up on him again. He wants, no, needs Peter to cum first this time. Want to know how it feels to have that hot body convulsing around him, knowing that he did that.
“Faster,” Peter whispers, and Ned goes faster, pushing his aching muscles to the limit. Everything clicks, every hit landing perfectly, sheets being rucked up around them as Ned put all of himself into the task of making Peter cum.
What seems like only a few seconds later and Peter is coming. Ned can feel the hot fluid against his belly and Peter clenches tight around his dick. He tries to fuck Peter through his climax, but them Peter ripples around him and that’s it, Ned’s gone.
When the white-hot beauty of his orgasm fades, Ned comes back to himself to find Peter completely passed out, but breathing deeply and cleanly for the first time that night.
Ned’s heart does something funny at the sight of his best friend laid out asleep in his bed. It’s hot, and adorable, and makes Ned want to wrap him up in a blanket and hold him for the rest of forever. Peter Parker deserves to be protected and loved and cherished.
Too bad he’s probably never going to want to see Ned again after tonight.
Ned wipes peter down with a washcloth as best he can, and manages to get Peter between two spare blankets, so at least he won’t wake up uncovered for laying in dried cum.
Then Ned puts his pajamas back on and collapses in his beanbag chair. It isn’t hard for him to fall asleep. Apparently, sex is exhausting. Who knew?
Ned wakes up the next morning to sounds of traffic outside and the birds that nest right above his window. He blinks the sleep from his eyes before he remembers last night and a shot of adrenaline wakes him up fully.
Peter is still there. He’s borrowed a pair of Ned’s sweatpants, and is lounging on the bed, texting someone. Probably his aunt, Ned thinks, kicking himself for not texting her that peter as staying at his house before he went to sleep.
Ned moves to get up, and Peter’s attention is immediately on him. Ned almost winces, waiting for his best friend of five years to yell at him, but instead there is only an awkward silence. Which honestly isn’t much better. Peter is making that weird face which falls somewhere between confused, afraid, and embarrassed. Ned can’t imagine he’s any clearer.
“So,” Peter begins, and stops. Ned can’t bear to look at his best friend straight, and decides to just get it over with.
They both speak simultaneously. Peter continues, babbling like he does when he’s scared.
“I’m sorry, why are you…? Look I’m sorry, I came here and put this on you, I’m so sorry I took advantage of you like that, it was so stupid- “
You what? Ned interrupts,” I took advantage of you. You were practically roofied and I knew it and I still had sex with you- “
“I molested you!” Peter says, “I came in and I didn’t even ask if you wanted to do anything, I just did whatever I wanted, I was so selfish, I didn’t even think- “
“You were high, you weren’t in control and I was, and I still went along with it- “
“Ned, it isn’t your fault, it’s mine, I was careless when I was fighting that guy, please- “
“I raped you.”
There was a dead silence in Ned’s room. The two boys look at each other, both in guilt. Peter speak first.
“No. Ned, I liked it. I liked it a lot, and not just because it saved me from a near fatal case of blue balls.”
Ned’s mouth quirks up in a smile despite himself.
“I don’t ever want you to feel that way. You’re my best friend. I love you. Even if it’s just ya’know, platonic most of the time. I just want that to stay the same. If, if you want to stop being friends, then- “
“No!” Ned interrupts. Peter smiles.
“Thank god, Ned. I need you. For more than just your body, I swear.”
Peter get up from the bed and holds out a hand. “Forget this ever happened until it’s far enough away we can make fun if it?”
Ned grabs Peter’s hand and pulls him into a hug. Peter hugs him back, and they stay like that for nearly a minute. Ned guesses that Peter’s just as relived that they can stay friends as he is.
“Ok,” Ned says, pulling away and clapping Peter on the shoulder, “I think, right now, that you need me to make some chocolate chip pancakes and watch Empire Strikes Back with you.”
Then Peter laughs and suddenly, everything is once again right with the world. Ned laughs too and once again they are best friends and nothing less.