Now Lower Down (Where the Sins Lie)

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/15159350.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media
Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man
(Movies - Webb)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Everyone, Peter Parker/Everyone, Peter Parker/Steve
Rogers, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker,
Clint Barton/Peter Parker, Bruce Banner/Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Thor
Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint
Barton, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel)
Additional Tags: nat is mentioned twice but i don't write het sooo lmao, peter parker is a
hoe in this, But everyone loves it, Bottom Peter Parker, Anal Sex, Plot
What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Anal Fingering, Smut, Fluff and Smut,
Shameless Smut, Bondage, Kinda, Everyone loves Peter, Blow Jobs,
Oral Sex, Begging, Power Play, a little lol, Rough Sex, Size Kink,
Strength Kink, Rutting, Dry Humping, Riding, Hand Jobs, Angst,
literally the lightest bit, Team as Family, Aged-Up Peter Parker
Language: English
Collections: Avengers, Im so hot
Stats: Published: 2018-07-04 Words: 5,323 Chapters: 1/1
 Now Lower Down (Where the Sins Lie)
by Kkaepsongiya

Summary

Peter reflects on the nature of his relationship with his fellow Avengers

Notes

This took me forever to write and edit because...idk why actually, it just did LOL for some
reason it was REEEEEALLY hard to write Bruce's part, so hard that I almost just said fuck it
and didn't include him lmao just enjoy this bad smutty mess, I had a formatting problem
hence the subtitles being aligned to the right cause idk what else to do lmaooo Title from
Spring Awakening's "Touch Me"
 Prologue

Moving into the tower, Peter hadn’t planned on becoming so close with the other supers. He
was nerdy and lanky and he talked too much and he was willing to accept that he wouldn’t
exactly fit in there.

He never really expected to develop a close relationship with any of the others beyond
professional kindness but he had hoped for the best and—like most of the things in his life—
it had worked out in a way he hadn’t expected.

Now, Peter would never really label himself as a sex fiend or anything like that, but he could
admit that he enjoyed having sex. He was no longer the geeky kid who was overly shy about
his sex life and his want for sex and—luckily—those in the tower were more than happy to
indulge him.

Steve

Sleeping with Steve was just about exactly how Peter had always thought it would be.
Outside of the strong force he was in costume, Steve was like a giant touch-starved teddy
bear, always wrestling his team into hugs and cuddles. Mother henning over them after
missions, making sure their wounds were treated and they were fed. During movie nights,
one of them always ended up in his lap, his arms wrapped around their middle to keep them
as close as possible.

That’s why it didn’t surprise Peter that Steve was a face-to-face missionary kind of guy. The
first time they had slept together had been a blushing mess for the both of them, staring into
each other’s eyes, their bodies pressed completely together.

Even now after they’d done this what seemed like a million times, there was still that same
magical feeling, like they were teenage lovers sharing their first time together. Steve kissed
Peter long and soft as he stripped the both of them, pressing Peter down into the sheets and
slotting his body into all of Peter’s crevices. He pulled Peter’s legs up to wrap around him
and pressed his hips forward, swallowing Peter’s moan. Steve trailed his hands all over
Peter’s body, fingers stopping briefly to rub at the boy’s nipples, moving down farther,
pressing one hand’s fingers into the dips of Peter’s hips while his other hand, now slicked up
with lube continued farther to press into the younger’s heat.

The first digit had Peter sighing softly, brown eyes peering up wide into Steve’s own blue
ones, a hand coming up to curve into the man’s blond hair and play with the strands. Steve
added a second finger soon after, pulling a keening sound from Peter, the younger’s eyes
fluttering shut, his hips shifting closer.

“Please, more,” Peter’s voice was barely more than a whisper, the boy dragging Steve back
down into a kiss, their lips catching his moan as Steve added another finger and soon another
before pulling away, smiling softly down at Peter as he slicked himself up and lined the head
of his dick up with Peter’s hole. Under him, Peter’s cheeks were flushed prettily giving him a
youthful look, his lips parted to let out small pants of breath, his hair mussed up against the
pillows. The look of pleasure on Peter’s face when Steve pushed in fully coupled with the
heat of Peter swallowing him in made Steve’s eyes flutter, a gasping moan leaving him.

After a moment, Peter let out a high-pitched noise, shifting his hips to bring Steve closer,
moving his hands from where they had been clenching Steve’s biceps to lay above his head
on the bed, his eyes slitting open to meet Steve’s. Steve shifted them slightly, a hand reaching
down to pull Peter’s leg up higher, the other trailing up to wrap around Peter’s wrists,
pressing them down into the bed as he pulled his hips back and pressed them forward again.
Peter whined again, his core flexing at the feeling, the sound pushing Steve forward, pressing
more of his weight onto the brunette’s body and pinned wrists and moving his hips faster.

Now, Peter let out a full moan, his head tilting backwards as Steve began to actually fuck
him, his hips hitting against Peter’s with every thrust. A well-placed thrust to Peter’s prostate
had him arching up off the bed, his heels digging into the small of Steve’s back. Spurred by
this, Steve angled his hips, fingers tightening over his wrists and every thrust hitting Peter’s
spot until Peter arched up against him again and came, his cum spilling between their
stomachs. Steve continued thrusting into him chasing his own orgasm, loving the small
whimpers and sounds Peter let out as his over-sensitive hole was pushed into. Finally, Peter
clenched tight over Steve, pulling the blond over the edge, his body folding over Peter’s, his
head pressing into the crook of the boy’s neck as they caught their breath.

Peter played with the short strands of hair at the base of Steve’s neck for a minute before the
blond pushed himself up and pulled himself out of Peter, both of them whining a bit at the
feeling. Peter laid there while Steve went to get a towel to wipe them both off with before the
older settled back into the bed, pulling Peter’s pliant body into his arms.

The last thing Peter felt before he fell asleep was Steve’s lips pressed against his forehead.

Tony

Working in Tony Stark’s lab was something that Peter had dreamed about when he was
younger and now here he was, not only working with Stark Industries but working with Tony
Stark himself. While they worked together on the battlefield all the time, there was something
different about working together in the lab, not as Ironman and Spiderman but as Tony and
Peter. Down in this lab, there were no lives to save, no aliens or bad guys to fight—only
science and each other.

So that’s where Peter found himself on a slow Sunday morning, shoulder to shoulder with
Tony as they worked on their individual projects. The air around them was light as they joked
lightly with each other. After about an hour of working in mostly silence, Peter grew bored.
With his brain working a mile a minute and his hands moving only half that speed he knew
he needed a break to collect himself before he messed something up. Instead, he took some
time to watch Tony work.
The man’s hands moved precisely and with purpose and Peter could almost see him
crunching numbers in his head, always thinking five steps ahead of himself.

Peter’s not ashamed to say that watching Tony made him hard. He’s always had a thing for
smart people.

He feels himself getting worked up as he watches Tony work, shifting slightly in his seat to
lessen the friction of his pants against his dick. Tony is no idiot though and even though Peter
thinks he’s being subtly Tony sees right through him.

“Getting a lot done over there?” Tony asks cheekily, throwing a coy glance over at Peter,
dragging his eyes south to look at the hardening in the boy’s pants before turning back to his
own work. Peter only just keeps himself from reacting like a child, whining and kicking his
feet to get what he wants. Instead, he huffs and nudges at Tony’s leg with his foot. “What is
it, Pete?” The smug bastard doesn’t even look up from his work.

“I’m bored ,” Peter can’t help but drag out the word, draping his upper body onto the work
table, facing Tony. The older man doesn’t try to stifle his laugh, his fingers still moving fast
and sure.

“Is that all you are?” Peter would probably be more annoyed if he couldn’t see Tony’s
peaking arousal, hear the tilt of interest in his voice. He knows exactly what Peter wants, he’s
just playing with him—he wants to hear Peter say it . If Peter were feeling more patient, he’d
try to drag this out, this little foreplay thing they’re doing. If. Instead, he goes for it.

“I really wanna put my mouth on you.” Tony’s very good at schooling his emotions and
reactions but Peter can see him tense slightly, his fingers flexing around the tool he’s holding.
He sets it down and trains his eyes on Peter’s own.

“Well,” Tony starts, dragging the word out a bit, “maybe if you ask nicely you’ll get what you
want.” His eyes darken as he says these words, licking his lips quickly.

If you had told Peter years ago that he would be on his knees in front of the Tony Stark, he
would’ve laughed but here he was, pushing himself out of his seat and settling on his knees,
shuffling forward until he was bracketed in between the older man’s thighs, running his hands
along the clothed muscles. He bit his lip and looked up at Tony, his eyes wide and clouded
with lust. He almost smirks at the quick huff of breath Tony lets out at the look. Peter licks
his lips slowly.

“Can I please suck your cock?” At this, Tony lets out a breathy laugh, running his hand
messily through his hair.

“Jesus, kid, how could I say no to you?” Tony shuffled slightly, yanking his pants down
before settling back in the chair. Peter sighed in pleasure at just the sight of Tony’s dick
standing proud against his stomach. He wasted little time admiring it, reaching out with a
hand to grab Tony by the base, guiding the tip towards his mouth. Before taking it in, Peter
ran the tip over his lips, moaning and looking up at Tony before taking it into his mouth.
From there it all went quickly. Peter sucked Tony’s cock into his mouth, taking more and
more until his nose was nestled down at the base, his throat squeezing around the length.
Above him, Tony moaned loudly, one of his hands gripping at Peter’s hair and holding him
down, only letting him up when the boy’s throat spasmed around him. Tears built in the
corner of Peter’s eyes as he continued to deep throat the older man, his head bobbing up and
down quickly, his tongue pressed flat against the vein running along the base. Tony pulled his
hair harder.

“If you keep at it like that, I’ll be finished in no time, kid.” Tony’s voice sounded strained, his
hips shifting as he tried to chase Peter’s mouth. The boy just looked up at him innocently
(well, as innocently as you can look while sucking cock) tonguing Tony’s slit before sucking
lightly on the head of his dick. His expression then turned devilish and he sucked Tony down
one more time, humming around him. Tony came with a loud moan, his eyes closing and his
head falling back. Peter moaned too, swallowing everything Tony gave him happily and
licking his lips when the older man was spent.

Tony tilted his head forward at the sound of a moan from Peter. The boy stayed kneeled
between his legs, his head resting on Tony’s thigh, one hand palming himself through his
sweatpants. At Tony’s movement Peter glanced up at him, eyes hazy with want. Tony ran his
thumb over the corner of Peter’s lips before patting his own lap.

“Come up, lemme take care of that for you.”

Peter was up in no time.

Bucky

Peter’s first meeting with Bucky had been...a disaster—for lack of a better word. After
months of Steve and everyone else running to the corners of the earth to find him, Bucky had
decided that he was ready: ready to be found, ready to just stop running. However, he decided
that at 2am on a Thursday morning.

Most everyone in the tower was asleep, even Tony had conked out for the night, except for
Peter. The boy was a bit wired from that night’s patrol so he sat in the common floor’s
kitchen, simultaneously eating cereal, pancakes, drinking apple juice, and playing a game on
his phone. The room was quiet besides his own chewing but he felt that familiar prickling
sensation in the back of his neck and, next he knew, he was hanging from the ceiling and one
James Buchanan Barnes was stuck to the wall covered in webs.

From that moment their relationship had been touch and go. After spending decades
brainwashed and not in control of his own body, Bucky was simultaneously afraid of touch
yet so touch starved that his body craved it. There were times where he’s curl up on the couch
next to Steve, leaning his weight onto the blond and settling against him. Other times he
would stand in the corner of the room, eyes sharp, body taught like he was waiting for an
attack—if anyone got too close to him, he’d snap at them (Clint learned that the hard way and
spent a week nursing a black eye). Understandably, Peter was wary of the older man, never
knowing how to act.
That all changed though. The longer Bucky stayed at the tower, the more he opened up, the
more comfortable he became with everyone and letting his guard down. The more he relaxed,
the more Peter found himself hanging around and soon they had built a solid friendship. They
kept each other company in the wee hours of the morning when they couldn’t sleep, they
watched tv together on slow lazy days, and even did mundane things like go grocery
shopping together. Sitting on opposite sides of the couch graduated to sitting shoulder to
shoulder on the couch to locking ankles under the table to Bucky’s head in Peter’s lap after a
long day. Peter welcomed the contact and Bucky seemed to be doing better from it too—the
bad days grew fewer and farther in between.

The day they first had sex was a bad day.

It was basically a mission gone wrong. They had all walked straight into a trap and it had
ended with Clint and Steve in medical overnight and Tony in bed with a concussion. Like
usual, Peter was keyed up after the fight, almost manic, as the adrenaline continued to course
through his body. On the other hand, Bucky was channeling his adrenaline into anger, a hard
look on his face as he paced around the room. He had slipped during the battle, falling back
into his Winter Soldier mannerisms for a moment when they had realized that it had all been
a setup and that they were surrounded, and his mind was still reeling from it. Peter watched
him pace for what felt like forever before he decided to do something about it.

He stood and quickly crossed to Bucky. He’d seen the man react poorly to being touched
when in a mood like this but he could feel Bucky’s brain buzzing from across the room. He
had to do something. He reached out and put a hand on Bucky’s arm, yelping when he was
suddenly swung around and slammed against the wall, Bucky pinning his body with his own.
The older man’s eyes cleared a little as he realized that it was Peter against him but when his
eyes flickered quickly down to Peter’s lips then back up—a motion so quick Peter almost
missed it—the haze was replaced by a need . Peter took the step, pressing his lips to Bucky’s.
The reaction was immediate.

Bucky growled against his lips and pressed back hungrily, his hands moving down to grab
onto Peter’s hips, making the younger sigh against his lips. Peter’s still running on the high of
the battle and maybe he’s not thinking straight but he finds himself hopping up, wrapping his
legs tight around Bucky’s waist and pushing harder into the kiss. He’s really fucking hard and
the way the older man is biting into his lip isn’t helping.

It’s all really a blur. They’re both so pent up that “taking it slow” isn’t an option and soon
Peter’s on his bed (when did they even make it to his room? God, he can’t even think
straight) his ass hiked up and his face shoved into a pillow as Bucky rams into him quickly.
He can feel himself drooling, his mind mush as he babbles incoherently into the cushion.
Behind him, Bucky has a bruising grip on his hips, the slap of their hips together jerking
Peter up the bed. The older man is grunting through gritted teeth, his head tipped back as he
pushes on and on. Peter’s pretty sure the wetness of the pillow isn’t just drool but actual tears
leaking down his face as his prostate is hit over and over and over, his abs tightening as he
feels his orgasm building up until, finally, he’s pushed over the edge.

He whites out for a moment, coming to as Bucky reaches his own climax and spills inside of
him. It feels so hot inside of him and he lets out a small whimper when Bucky pulls out and
collapses next to him, the older man immediately reaching out to pull Peter to lay half on top
of him. They’re quiet for a second before Bucky shifts and makes a sound like he’s
processing his own words before saying them.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough, if I...hurt you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He sounds so upset
with himself—disgusted almost—and Peter’s heart hurts. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the best idea
to have sex when both of them were clearly running high on emotions and not thinking
straight but he didn’t regret sleeping with Bucky and, if anything, that was probably one of
the best orgasms of his life. When he tells Bucky this much, the man lets out a huff of
laughter, running his flesh fingers through Peter’s hair until the boy falls asleep.

After a moment, Bucky’s asleep too.

Clint

Peter seriously blames his age for his raging hormones. Yeah he’s not a kid anymore but he’s
just not a kid. He can’t help that his body reacts to things his mind thinks is hot (which, living
in the tower with a group of superheroes, was very often) but it was just simple biology! That
doesn’t stop him from getting embarrassed when casual situations leads to a hard-on that he
has to take care of in the bathroom or the safety of his room. This time he’s not so lucky—it’s
not really possible for him to sneak his way out of this one.

Especially since he’s currently pinned under Clint’s body.

Clint is something of a dark horse. He doesn’t have any powers or super suits but he could
probably drop Steve in half a minute. He’s smart, he’s got a sharp eye, and his body is no
joke. Said body was currently keeping Peter on the ground—not that Peter or his dick were
complaining much about it. And those sharp eyes of Clint were suddenly gleaming and Peter
swallowed heavy, waiting for Clint to just make a joke about him being pinned so easily and
get off of him so that he could hop in the shower and hope the sound of the water drowned
out the sound of his cum hitting the tile.

What Clint, that asshole, decides to do instead, is grind his hips down.

Peter curses and his head falls back, eyes closed, his hand coming up to grab at Clint’s bicep.
He slits his eyes open and Clint has the widest grin on his face. The minute they lock eyes,
Clint moves his hips again. They’re both wearing sweatpants and the fabric does little to hide
Peter’s hardness or Clint’s growing one. The friction also isn’t doing much for Peter—if Clint
wants to play, they’ll play—so he flips them around, now pinning Clint to the mat, straddling
the older man’s hips, the swell of his ass resting right on top of Clint’s dick. A too-sweet
smile pulls across Peter’s face and Clint knows he’s fucked, knows that whatever the boy’s
planning now will be good, so good.

Peter wastes no time, grinding his hips down against Clint’s making the blond moan, his
hands coming up to hold onto Peter’s hips, his thumbs trailing under Peter’s shirt to press into
the dips of his hips. The boy is so thin but he’s strong, evident in the way he has Clint pressed
flat. That strength, that power over him, makes Clint groan, his hips bucking up for more
friction.

Peter Parker is a little shit.

Though denying Clint friction means, in turn, denying himself friction, Peter loves seeing the
blond squirm under him, his hips jerking, searching for any kind of contact. He kinda gets
what’s coming to him, though, because Clint gets sick of that game quick and his hands push
farther up Peter’s shirt to twist at his nipples. The brunette whines, his back arching, and he
drops his ass down to press into Clint again. The blond smirks up at him before rolling them
again, draping his body completely over Peter’s. Peter is strong enough to reverse this
position, to throw Clint off and hold him down but he decides against it.

He kinda likes being held down.

Fingers curl into his hair and tug while Clint begins to move, rutting their hips together like
they’re horny teenagers, too excited to even take off their clothes. With the way Clint moves
his hips, Peter can barely be mad at the barrier between their dicks; instead, he hooks his legs
up around Clint’s hips and pulls him even closer.

They move like animals, their hips slotting together roughly, Clint tugging on Peter’s hair,
their lips colliding messily, mostly tongue and teeth. Peter cums almost embarrassingly fast,
his chest arching up and his whine swallowed up by Clint who doesn’t end up lasting much
longer. They lay in silence for a second before Clint’s body starts shaking on top of his—
Peter realizes after a second that the man is laughing and he can’t help but join in.

They lay there just laughing at each other before Natasha finds them and literally kicks them
out for “soiling the gym”.

Thor

Growing up, Peter Parker was the scrawniest kid he knew. He was shorter than everyone else,
skinnier than everyone else, and just generally weaker than anybody else. He was an easy
target for bullies because he couldn’t defend himself.

After getting the bite and his powers, he...didn’t really change that much. With growing older
he definitely hit a growth spurt but he was still just below that national average and even with
his new training regimen (which included, you know, stopping bad guys ) he hadn’t bulked
up. Instead of muscles like Steve’s, Peter lost all the fat on his body, leaving him muscled but
lanky and sinewy. If he pulled his hands up high above his head, you could see his ribs
shifting, pressing against his pale skin like they were aching to burst out.

He had, as demonstrated on numerous occasions, the strength to catch and fling buses yet you
would never tell by looking at him. It gave him the upper hand—if a baddie thinks you’re
frail and weak, they won’t prepare themselves for the possibility of being knocked out with
one hit. Also, it didn’t hurt that being so small meant everyone was bigger than him...maybe
he had a tiny bit of a size kink: it was one of the reasons he loved having sex with Thor.
Logically, Peter knew he was strong enough to go head to head with Thor in a battle and even
come out victorious, but when the blond had him boxed in against a wall, all of that went out
the door. Thor, it seemed, had a bit of a size kink as well and had no problem using his size
over Peter, easily shifting the boy around, manhandling him into the positions he wanted. It
was so exhilarating, letting someone else take control, letting Thor pin both his hands down
with one of his one, the man tearing his clothes right off his body. Everything about him was
huge, two of his fingers stretching Peter wide in preparation for his cock which always had
the boy’s mouth watering. The first time he blew Thor, he came without touching himself
after getting just half of the man in his mouth, the thickness of the man stretching his jaw
wide open.

Now, as Thor flipped Peter onto his hands and knees, Peter bucked his hips back in
anticipation, whining for Thor to just hurry up and fuck him already. For someone so
naturally loud, Thor was quiet during sex, mostly letting out grunts and muffled moans. The
blunt head of his cock pressed up against Peter’s hole and, already impatient, the boy shoved
back, quickly forcing three inches inside of him. The sound of Thor’s cursing was drowned
out by the loud moan Peter released, his hands clenching at the bedsheets so hard they seams
strained under the pressure. He breathes heavily but whined as Thor shifted inside a bit more.

“Are you ready, young Spider?” It was all the warning he got before Thor thrust the rest of
the way in. Peter’s back arched and he dropped his face into the blankets, the fabric muffling
his scream. Thor was so thick and long that even just half of him made Peter feel full; to have
it all inside him made his legs tremble and his arms shake. His brain turned to mush and the
sheets tore under his grip.

While Thor had definitely matured in mannerisms since they first met, he fucked like a
vigorous youth, wasting no time in pounding into Peter. Every thrust had the head of Thor’s
cock bludgeoning Peter’s sweet spot, the brunette unable to contain wails of pleasure, tears
leaking down his face at the sensation. It was all just so much, all the sensation washing over
him like a wave until finally he came, releasing all over the sheets.

As he laid limp, Thor continued to use him, hammering into him until he came. They didn’t
disconnect yet and Peter knew that they weren’t done yet. He could feel the warmth of Thor’s
cum inside of him and he could feel his own dick slowly hardening again. By the time he was
fully hard, Thor was ready for another round, lifting Peter up as if he were a ragdoll and
spearing the boy down on his cock.

Peter screamed his throat raw.

Bruce

Most of the time Peter would say that he’s glad he got the bite. He’s not as clumsy, he’s more
agile, has better endurance, is strong, the list goes on and on. Yeah, there was a period where
he accidentally stuck to everything he touched and he couldn’t control his own strength but
that was a long time ago and those cons were far outweighed by the pros. High up on that list
of cons, though, was sensory overload.
Sensory overload was such a bitch to deal with.

There were days where the sound of Steve washing dishes made him want to rip his ears off,
days where he could smell every lit cigarette in a five-mile radius, where every light felt like
they were getting brighter and brighter, where the feeling of clothes brushing against his skin
made it crawl, made him want to peel everything off his body until he was just bone. Days
like those were absolute hell and while they didn’t happen too often, they happened often
enough. Before moving into the tower, and for a short time afterwards, he dealt with these
days alone, cramped under his bed (the darkest place in his room with all the lights off and
the shades drawn), hands over his ears and shaking. After experiencing a bout of this
hypersensitivity, Tony had built him a deprivation chamber of sorts, a soundproof room,
darker than his super sight could adjust to, the whole interior made of a fabric that didn’t
make him cringe.

It was nice but so lonely.

He hated having to be isolated, hated feeling like a prisoner in solitary confinement. There
were days where he could power through this overload—days where it wasn’t too bad or he
couldn’t just stay in for the entire day. Those days, after he was finally able to get as
comfortable as possible, he would make his way to Bruce’s room.

He and Bruce had built a stable relationship with each other. Bruce needed quiet and calm to
remain himself and while Peter liked to talk, he rather enjoyed sitting in silence with the
older man or simply making small talk over lab work. While there had been no cure for
Peter’s sensitivity, Bruce had been very helpful with its management, keeping Peter
distracted while not exacerbating his problem; so while he made his way to the deprivation
chamber when it got really bad, when he could, he went to Bruce.

After a long day alone in the lab, Peter could feel his ears ringing along with a slight
headache from the clinking of test tubes together and the strain of his eyes. He needed to
make some progress on his work but he could finally stop for the night and, rubbing his eyes
on the way to the elevator, he knew exactly where to go. Without even prompting Jarvis, he
was brought up to Bruce’s floor. Peter’s feet moved on autopilot to Bruce’s room, shedding
his clothes once inside and climbing onto the bed. After a moment, Bruce shifted behind him
and rested a hand slow on Peter’s stomach, thumb stroking his hip bone.

Bruce shifted closer, lining his body up against Peter’s, pressing himself against the
younger’s back, his hand shifting down. Peter sighed softly, eyes closed as Bruce wrapped a
hand around his dick. The man stroked slowly, pressing a kiss to Peter’s shoulder but not
saying anything. They continued like this, silence save for small moans and breaths from
Peter as he got closer and closer to his climax. Bruce kept pressing kisses to his shoulder and
when Peter finally came, he leaned up to kiss the back of Peter’s neck, wiping Peter off with
a tissue from the nightstand then wrapping his arm over the younger’s waist.

His hand rested back on Peter’s stomach and, before he finally fell asleep, Peter brought a
hand up to hold onto it.
 Epilogue

Moving into the tower, Peter hadn’t planned on becoming so close with the other supers. He
was nerdy and lanky and he talked too much and he was willing to accept that he wouldn’t
exactly fit in there.

Being there for so long now, he was so glad that he had been proven wrong.

Thursday nights were movie nights and tonight they were watching, by popular demand, The
Breakfast Club...again. Tony and Clint were causing a mess by throwing popcorn and
attempting to catch them in their mouths. Thor responded joyously, joining in and throwing a
handful of popcorn at Clint causing Natasha to snort from her seat, picking a piece out of
Clint’s hair and eating it. Bruce sat at the foot of the couch with a Starkpad in hand, working
absently on it while peering at the scene playing out on the screen. Steve and Bucky were
also invested in the movie, Bucky hunched over in his seat like he couldn’t get close enough
to the screen to take in the storyline and Steve had Peter in his lap, the boy wrapped in a bear
hug as Steve stared at the screen with wide eyes.

From his perch on the most comfortable lap in the world, Peter took in everything, took in the
light atmosphere, the warmth, the comfort, the scene of everyone together with him at the
center of it.

It all felt like home.

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