ofthespider

Title; In Which Now Is A Good Time
Fandom; Marvel (Spider-Man/Daredevil)
Characters/Pairings; Peter Parker/Matt Murdock
Theme; 16. I want to break you
Rating; R/NC-17
Canon; In the same vein as In Which Matt Is Awake And Peter Is Breathing. Actually, all the fics are in the same storyline at different times. But this is around then.
Warning(s); Sex. Gay sex. Manly buttsex. Masturbation. Slight bondage. And Matt being generally overbearing and dickish.
Summary; Matt's sick of Peter's superior attitude, so he gives Spidey a sexual what-for.


Spider-Man was practically unbreakable.

It should have been great, but it just pissed Matt off. How many times had they fought together, only to leave Daredevil with big gashes and bruises for weeks -- while Spider-Man got to go on for a couple days, at most, before clearing up. Peter just wasn't human, and it was hard to be in control or powerful or intimidating knowing that little Peter Parker could crush him with a hand. Peter didn't, of course; he was a Good Guy, he had restraint. He didn't kill people with his powers, didn't maim.

It was driving Matt insane. He was aware that he was unhinged, knew that he was more violent, more volatile, that Peter was a paragon of virtue next to him despite having a great deal more power. It was like a silent insult, a way of Peter saying he was so much better than Matt was. Fucking Spider-Man, too good for his own good, who had a way of being good and kind but showing everyone that he was really the one in control with little things. He took hits, but he came right back up. Cracked wise while he did just the right thing to take someone down. Talking back to Matt when they were alone, letting him take the lead but making sure Matt knew that it might have been Matt fucking him, but every time he mouthed off, it was like saying that Peter was really the one calling the shots. He manipulated Matt's sensitivity, seduced him with little effort, and regardless of who started it, Matt always ended up going along with what Peter wanted, succumbing to breathed suggestions and the tug of Peter's hands or devoting himself to making Peter feel good.

He'd been brutally reminded of that tonight; team ups with Spider-Man were much more common now, but they'd been against one of Peter's villains, big and covered in machines and taking a modicum of strength that Daredevil just didn't have. Matt had been made a fool of while Peter hopped around and did a good deal of the work, and while that meant Matt was relatively uninjured, it also meant his pride was bleeding a bit. It had been a bad end to a long night (that, comparitively, had been pretty good; it had been quiet, until what's-his-face had attacked, leaving them a good deal of time to flirt instead), and Matt didn't even wait until they'd changed out of their suits before he was pressing Peter up to the wall.

"---went down like a rock---what are you doing?"

Biting his neck through the spandex, Matt fumbled with one hand to tug up Peter's mask. "What does it feel like I'm doing, Peter?"

Peter didn't get a chance to reply; once the bottom half of his mask was pushed up, Matt leaned in for a hard, harsh kiss, pushing his tongue into Peter's mouth. It was invasive and pushy, moving much faster than usual, and it took Peter a shocked second or two to respond, obediently sucking and cradling the back of Matt's neck.

Even as he groaned into Peter's mouth, Matt was reaching up to pull the other man's hands off his neck, pressing them to the wall instead. Shifting on his feet, Matt bit Peter's neck right under his ear, breathing harshly, "All I could think about tonight was fucking you."

"That explain why I was doing all the work?" Peter snickered, not bothering to struggle. It had been a hard fight, but unlike Matt (who had come back horny), Peter was exhilarated, wonderfully aching and still energetic, like a runner still working off their adrenaline from a long stretch.

Cocky. Peter was cocky, and Matt growled, tightening his grip on Peter's wrists. "You were showing off." Tugging at the suit with his teeth, Matt let it snap back against Peter's skin, letting go of his wrists to slide his own hands, still in the leather gloves, down over his sides, keeping him firmly against the wall. Knowing that Peter was letting himself be held there only seemed to aggravate him -- or turn him on. It was hard to tell. "You do it every fucking time we're out there."

Peter raised an eyebrow behind the mask, nudging his leg between Matt's. "Do I intimidate you or something?" It was an honest question; Matt seemed too pissed off about it to be joking. It was a tone Matt took with him, but ... not usually when he was shoved against the wall. "Chill out." In an attempt to placate Matt, Peter cradled the back of his neck, pressing a sound kiss to his mouth.

Or he tried to, anyway. Matt bit him, inciting a surprised noise, half cut off when Matt brought up a hand to hold him against the wall by his throat.

"Shut up," Matt hissed. Getting anything through Peter's head was hard, let alone the concept of ... shut up, you're not running this. Not right now. Peter brought up a hand, gripping Matt's wrist as if he wanted to tear the hand away, but he let it happen. Matt couldn't honestly hurt him, after all. Sighing, Matt kissed Peter's cheek tenderly, breathing, "Now. I'm going to fuck you. You have a problem with that, get out now."

...Well, if there was anything that shut Peter up ... that was it. Swallowing hard, Peter ultimately stayed right where he was. His heart skipped a beat; he really had no idea what he was getting into, but he could handle it.

That was all the permission Matt needed, and then he was shoving Peter down to his knees. Sure he knew where this was going, Peter brought his hands up to Matt's belt, only to have them smacked away.

"You don't touch me unless I tell you to," he spat. Matt wouldn't let Peter have the chance to gain control. Using his teeth to tug off one of his gloves, Matt grimaced at the taste of the dirty leather before he was reaching down, running his fingers over Peter's face, tracing where the mask and Peter's exposed skin met but deciding to leave it on. Over his cheek, his jaw, Matt found Peter's mouth, tracing his lips. "Come here."

Matt's other hand pushed Peter forward, the hand on his mouth guiding him to the outline of Matt's cock against the leather. "Feel that? ...---Answer me, Peter. Tell me what you feel."

"I feel dirty leather."

Peter didn't even have time to make a face.

Matt smacked him, just hard enough to jolt him, before gripping Peter jaw and pulling him back none too gently. "You know what I fucking mean, Parker. Don't make me smack you again."

That Peter didn't jerk back and call it off was a testament to his consent -- if not approval. Maybe he was stupid, maybe he was brave, and maybe he was actually into this kind of thing, because he whimpered almost obediently, following Matt's lead and kissing the leather. "I feel your cock. Why, you want me to blow you before you fuck me?"

Matt shuddered -- and then caught himself, giving Peter another little smack. "You want to suck my cock, Peter?" Rough fingers brushed over his mouth again before slipping two in, moving over Peter's tongue. "You want my cock in your mouth? Suck on my fingers, show me you want it."

Matt was serious, and Peter? Peter still thought this was some sort of game. Trusted that Matt wasn't going to really do anything to him. Because ... hell, Matt could be trusted, couldn't he? Obediently sucking on Matt's fingers, pushing his tongue between them as Matt moved them in and out. Curling them up like he was fingering a woman, groaning.

"Hard yet, Peter?" Another groan in response, and Matt grinned. "Maybe if you're lucky, I'll let you come. Push down your suit and touch yourself for me."

He was a little surprised when Peter actually did it, shoving down the spandex and pushing a hand between his own legs. Still wearing the gloves, Peter's mouth falling open with a moan, his breath hot against Matt's fingers. Peter was letting him have control, but it was hard for Matt to be too upset about it when Peter was tracing circles over Matt's fingers with his tongue. People didn't think of Peter as an intensely sexual person, but Matt knew different. Very, very differently.

It wasn't the first time Matt had wished he could see Peter, kneeling at his feet and making that beautiful sound of his glove against his cock. Pulling his hand away from Peter's mouth, gently tugging him forward by his teeth, Matt touched Peter's cheek with damp fingers before pulling it away entirely. In a moment, his fingers were replaced with the billy club, sliding down Peter's cheek and underneath his chin, tipping his head to look up.

The sudden speed in Peter's heartbeat made Matt pause, just for a moment, listening to Peter swallow hard and his hand still. He knew that sound, knew that particular fluctuation. Peter was scared, scared enough to stop. Scared enough not to make some cocky billy club joke.

"You afraid of me, Peter?" Matt whispered, listening carefully to Peter's breathing, the subtle shift in the air when he turned his head away from the club.

"'Course not." A lie, but an easy one. His heartbeat gave him away instantly. Matt tapped the club against Peter's jaw, felt him flinch. Some of the cockiness was gone. He should have felt bad for scaring Peter---but instead, he grinned to himself, using the club to turn Peter's face back up. He didn't even consider what he must look like to Peter right now, towering over him, still in the suit, still with his mask on.

"Then you still want me to fuck you." It wasn't a question. Not really.

"Of course," Peter breathed, steadying himself. Either trying to prove he wasn't scared---or turned on despite that. With his heart like that it was hard to tell exactly what Peter felt.

Raising the hand that held the billy club, Matt tangled his fingers in Peter's hair, the club resting between the top of Peter's head and Matt's hand. He briefly considered telling Peter to suck him---but it would mean giving Peter some control. Instead, he held Peter a few inches away from his hips, tugging back. Keeping him looking up.

"Make yourself come," he ordered roughly. "I'm not dealing with your hard on."

Peter was quiet, moaning impulsively. He never tried to be completely silent around Matt, knowing that his groans were a turn on. Matt swallowed hard, resolve shaking, just a bit, before he ground his teeth, breathing, "I want you against the window. You have a problem with that?"

"No," Peter groaned, straining against Matt's hand.

"What was that?"

"No, I don't have a problem with it."

Matt tugged Peter's hair, inciting an uncomfortable grunt. "Don't have a problem with what?"

"I don't have a problem with you fucking me against the window." Peter shifted, the words slipping out with a loud moan.

His grip loosened, just a bit, almost affectionately brushing his thumb over Peter's hair. "Good boy. ---Come for me, Peter, I'm not waiting for you all night."

It took a few minutes, and Peter was none too gentle with himself. He was much harder to get off than Matt at any given time, his skin less sensitive, but when he finally came, it was with a desperate moan, coming at Matt's feet before being dragged up rather gracelessly by his hair. Shaking from his orgasm, he reflexively jerked back when Matt's fingers moved to push into his mouth again, pressing his lips together.

"I won't hurt you," Matt breathed, pressing Peter into the wall again, mouth resting near Peter's ear. Rather than force anything, Matt let go of Peter's hair, dragging his hands down Peter's arms and grabbing his wrists, drawing them over his head. "You trust me, don't you?"

Peter hesitated. "...I do," he replied, almost reluctantly. Like he wasn't sure, all of a sudden.

Matt responded with a tender kiss to his cheek. "You can trust me." As he said it, he snapped the club in two to wrap the cord around Peter's wrists.

And Peter let him, sucking in a breath when Matt pulled a little too tight and pulling once it was secure. Enough to challenge the knot but not enough to break it. It was a more convincing display of trust than that pathetic 'I do' back there.

Brushing the fingers of his bare hand over Peter's mouth again, Matt bit Peter's ear, tugging. "Open your mouth. You want my fingers to be wet, don't you?"

Peter's mouth twisted under Matt's fingers before obediently opening, sucking cooperatively before leaning back again. Dropping his hand between them, Matt slid it between Peter's legs, pushing one finger against the tight ring of muscle.

"Relax. ---You can talk to me now."

"Well, now that I have his majesty's permission." Peter was clearly more comfortable talking, and it seemed to do the trick, letting Matt push his finger in.

"I didn't say you could be a snot," Matt said with a grimace, pushing in another finger without warning and inciting a surprised gasp. "Don't be so dramatic. If two fingers is too much, how do you expect my cock to go up there?"

"Faith, trust, and pixie dust?"

"That's flying, you idiot."

"And here I thought Peter Pan was for the young and young at heart."

Matt groaned, resting his forehead against Peter's shoulder. That is why Matt wanted him to shut up. Shoving in a third finger and feeling Peter squirm with a bit of a satisfied smile, Matt wasn't terribly gentle. But Peter was tough, and he'd relaxed enough that it was slightly uncomfortable but not bad.

When he considered Peter ready, he pulled his hand back, tugging down Peter's by the billy club, bringing Peter's tied hands to his belt. "Get my cock out and put your mouth on it."

"Say please."

"I'm not the one tied up here, Parker. Mouth. Cock. Now."

Matt heard Peter sigh and mutter something suspiciously like, "Push-y." But he also heard Peter drop to his knees, felt the leather peel away from his hips---and then Peter's mouth, warm and wet and soft around his erection, using his tongue more than really sucking. He knew why he was down there, after all.

"---Stop it. Stop." Matt dragged him back to his feet, shoving him front first against the wall and pushing the suit further down Peter's hips, just enough so he could comfortably push in. No real preamble, no slow entrance, making Peter shift uneasily and make a little noise of protest, bound hands pressing hard against the wall.

Shoving all the way in, Matt rested against Peter's back, breathing hard and biting his neck. "Tell me to fuck you."

"Fuck me," Peter replied obediently, shifting again, squeezing around Matt's cock impatiently.

"What was that?"

"Fuck me."

"I didn't hear you."

"Fuck me, Matt!" Peter snapped.

"Good boy." With that, Matt clamped a hand firmly over Peter's mouth and proceeded to fuck him. Hard. Fast. Merciless, and it was a wonder Peter didn't bite him. Aside from the muffled noises Peter made under his hand, Matt was the one making noise, loud groans pressed against Peter's neck. "Fuck. ---Fuck, you're tight---"

It was quick, over way too fast, Matt coming inside Peter with a grunt, still leaning against him, panting. It took a minute or so before Matt pulled his hand back; Peter immediately switched to panting through his mouth instead, tugging at the cord of the billy club.

Reaching up, Matt fumbled with the cord, loosening it enough to let Peter pull his hands out before simply dropping it to the floor.

"Now I really need a shower," Peter grunted.

"Mm." Only really half there, Matt nuzzled Peter's neck, clinging to his waist.

Rather than moving, Peter rested there against the wall, supporting Matt until he pulled himself back together. Orgasms threw Matt off, sent his senses out of whack---and when he was finally ready, he pulled back, stumbling just slightly.

"Right. Shower."