ofthespider

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Title; In Which Peter Is Decidedly Indecisive
Fandom; Marvel (Spider-Man/Daredevil)
Characters/Pairings; Peter Parker/Matt Murdock
Theme; 19. This isn't about you at all
Rating; R
Canon; A couple hours after In Which Peter Makes It Easy To Imagine
Warning(s); Rated for language and brief sexual content
Summary; A few hours after Matt meets Aunt May, Peter wakes up. Matt thinks everything is okay; Peter decides it apparently isn't, except that he eventually decides it kind of is.
Notes; All this is turning into one storyline, so there's a little index here underneath the table if you'd rather read in order. :D

Peter slept better than normal, curled up against the back of the couch, propped up on a pillow. As a rule, he was restless, shifting all night in bed, but Matt's weight had kept him still and calm. He'd moved a bit when Matt had left, but that was about it.

So he slept in without meaning to, and when he finally did wake up, it was in Matt's lap, laying back against his stomach and cradled between his knees.

"Mrgh---mm. Hi." It wasn't how he remembered falling asleep; Matt must have gotten up earlier.

"Hi." Matt ruffled his hair affectionately, contributing to Peter's already rather disastrous bedhead.

Peter groaned, burying his face against Matt's chest. "What time is it?"

"About eight or so? That was the last time they said on the news." The television was on a low hum, barely audible to someone like Peter.

"Seriously? Woah. I haven't slept that late in a while." Peter pushed himself up, stretching with a grunt and a yawn. Matt's hands dropped, sliding over his back.

"I know."

"What do you mean, you know?"

"Your aunt told me."

Peter dropped his arms, twisting around to look at Matt. "Wait, when?"

"This morning." Matt tried to give Peter an apologetic look. Sorry for not waking him up, maybe. Peter just stared. "She came around to drop off your laundry."

Crap. Crap. ...Shit.. "And she saw you?"

Matt frowned. "Yes, she saw me."

"Shit." Peter climbed off the couch, tugging his shirt straight and pulling off his remaining sock. It was getting annoying.

"What? What shit?" Matt reached over, grabbing Peter by the hem of his pants and tugging him back. "So she saw me. And now she knows. Big deal."

"What do you mean, now she knows? I don't even know, what the hell are you talking about?" Peter pushed away, grimacing. "What's there to know about? It's not like we're sleeping together."

For just a moment, Matt looked crestfallen---before he smirked, anyway. "Actually, we did a lot of sleeping last night. Together."

"Oh, come on, you know what I meant." Smartass. "---Weren't you the one telling me not to be queer earlier, what the hell was that?" Peter took another step back, confused. Defensive. Things kept happening and Peter still wasn't sure exactly how he felt about them. If he felt comfortable knowing he liked kissing Matt or liked being touched.

"What?"

"You know. When we were ... together---"

"When I fucked you."

Peter flinched. "Exactly. You acted like you wanted me out and then, what, you changed your mind halfway through the day?" He said it more aggressively than he had to, really.

Matt winced, pushing himself up to stand, obviously not comfortable with Peter standing over him. "I did it without thinking," he admitted. "Fucking you. I fucked you without thinking and---"

"Can we please stop saying it?"

"Saying what, Spidey?"

"Fuck. It's unnecessary."

If Matt could stare, he would be staring. Annoyed. "I. Fucked. You. Get over it. I wasn't thinking. I felt guilty in the morning."

"Oh, well, that just gives me warm fuzzies." Peter scowled, moving away to pick up the laundry hamper.

"Look, I..." Matt paused, making a face. "I shouldn't have done that to you. In the morning. I just ... felt ..."

"Uncomfortable," Peter finished for him. "Because you slept with a man." Peter felt like it was personal at the time. Still did, maybe. A little.

"Exactly."

"You think it might have made me uncomfortable, too?"

Matt winced again. Bullseye.

"Yeah. Thought not."

"You were the one trying to kiss me," Matt said petulantly. "You weren't that uncomfortable."

"I wasn't thinking about it," Peter snapped. "It wasn't like I tried to fuck you. It's not the same thing." He huffed, sounding exactly like his aunt and heading into his bedroom, plopping the basket down on the bed and putting his clothes away, just for something to keep his hands busy.

"I came back later!" Matt protested, following. "I came back and kissed you to make up for it. You can't still be mad."

"You got me in trouble at work!" Peter half tossed a pair of underwear into the top drawer.

"You still kissed me. After that. If you're so goddamn uncomfortable, why did you do that?"

"I..." Peter hesitated, deciding to find his clean socks extremely interesting. "I don't know. I just came over to hang out. It just happened, all right? I don't know."

Matt looked offended that Peter was so confused. They were both playing the push and pull, "I felt like it but didn't like it" game, and it was starting to get old.

"What about last night?"

"I was half asleep." After a pause, Peter admitted, muttering, "It felt good. I felt like it."

"Then---"

"It doesn't mean we're together," Peter snapped. "I'm not gay. I----we---I'm not gay. I was married. I loved MJ, I was attracted to MJ. We had sex, and I liked it. I'm not gay."

Matt was silent, blinking, looking like he'd just figured something out. Realization spread over his face, and Peter could only scowl.

"What."

"You don't want to be gay. That's your issue. You're attracted to me and you don't want to be gay."

"I am not----" But Matt was right, and Peter's heartbeat was probably giving it away. "That's because I'm not gay," he finished lamely.

"But you want me," Matt said stubbornly. "You like me. You like touching me."

"I'm not gay."

"But you like it last night."

"I'm not gay."

"I could hear your heartbeat. You liked it, Peter Parker."

The use of his real name from Matt made Peter flinch, moving stiffly to hang up his jeans. "Doesn't make me gay," Peter muttered. "Shouldn't you be all guilty over this? Aren't you Catholic? You're not gay, you had Karen and Elektra and God knows who else, you're not gay, either."

Matt frowned. "I'm not a very good Catholic. And just because I liked sleeping with Karen doesn't mean I don't want to sleep with you." Peter flinched; Matt must have known somehow, because he added, "Yes, Peter. I want you. I want you. And I want you to stop pretending nothing happened, god damn it, you're being such a pussy about it."

"Shut up!" Peter snapped, turning on him. "I'm not---damn it, Matt. I'm not gay. I just---I had a moment, I'm lonely, maybe it's not you at all. Maybe I'm just lonely."

"Plenty of people are lonely without getting fucked up the ass, Peter!" Matt grabbed his arm with an accuracy that no blind man should be allowed to have, dragging him closer before Peter jerked his arm out of Matt's grip. "Tell me you don't want me. Go ahead. I'll know if you mean it."

Peter opened his mouth, started to say it ... and couldn't. Matt would know. Matt would know everything.

"...I thought so. Would you just ... stop being such a pain in the ass and let me want you?" He reached out again, sliding his hands up Peter's arms and shoulders, resting on his neck.

It wasn't fair. Up close, Peter couldn't help but notice the light scars on Matt's collar, one on his jaw. The slight marks his sunglasses left on his nose. That his hands were rough but warm---or that, staring at Matt's mouth, he really wanted to kiss him. He pressed his lips together, silent and staring despite himself, glad Matt couldn't see. He didn't want this. He didn't want to want Matt. He wasn't gay, but... but. Well. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with being gay, it just wasn't Peter. He liked women. He liked Felicia and MJ and Betty, had liked Gwen. He wasn't gay.

But god damn was Matt attractive, and just thinking about Matt's hands and mouth made him second guess it all.

The silence must have lasted too long, because Matt broke it again. "Liking women and wanting me are two different things, Peter. They don't have to replace each other."

"For someone who goes to church every Sunday, you're awfully open to this," Peter commented. Maybe a bit unfairly.

Matt frowned. "Would you leave that out of this? I've made my peace with that. And if God sends me to Hell, it won't be over this. You let me worry about that."

Another shield gone. Another excuse, and Peter shifted. Still staring, watching Matt's lips move and swallowing hard. He still didn't have anything important to say and just leaned up. He'd been staring at Matt's mouth too long, kissing it without realizing what he was doing. When he did realize it, he tried to pull back, only to have Matt take his face in his hands and hold him there.

He didn't pull away.

Peter didn't let himself think. He just kissed, hard, tugging on Matt's borrowed shirt and opening his mouth when Matt pushed with his tongue. Sucking briefly, almost like a reflex, Peter slides his hands up to cradle Matt's neck, tangling in his hair and tugging his head back before dropping down to kiss his throat, resting his mouth where Matt's neck met his shoulder.

Matt took his hand, squeezing briefly before pulling it down, pressing it between his legs. Peter nearly pulled back, ultimately letting his hand rest there, curling his fingers gently; Matt was getting hard under his hand, and Peter ... had to grin. There was a sort of sick thrill in being able to turn another man on like that.

Matt kissed his neck, trailing up to kiss his ear. He swallowed, hesitating for a moment before:

"All I could think about last night was your mouth ... here," Matt breathed, holding Peter's hand just a little bit higher and squeezing----pulling in a breath like a gasp that almost existed.

Peter hesitated before pulling his hand away, suddenly uncomfortable with the implication. Matt's face fell, and he reached back out for Peter's hand, missing.

"Peter---"

"I should call my aunt." He didn't wait for a response before leaving the room to pick up the phone, dialing and leaning against the kitchen counter while the phone rang.

Suddenly, Matt was next to him, sliding a hand in his hair, the other around his waist from the back while Matt whispered, mouth close to his ear, "One of these days you'll get comfortable admitting you want me."

And then he was gone (into the bathroom, if the sound of the bathroom door closing was any indication), leaving Peter speechless and a little light-headed, holding the phone up and staring out the window.

"Hello? ...Peter? Peter, is that you?"

Peter shook his head, running a hand over his face. "Yeah. Yeah, Aunt May, it's me. How's it going?"

"It's just fine, Peter. How are you?"

"I'm okay. I, ah. I heard you ran into Matt this morning."

"I did." She sounded wry. I-know-your-secret-Peter. "You'll have to invite him over for dinner sometime."

Peter hesitated, about to tell her no, that wasn't going to happen---until he just smiled. "That would be great. I think he'd like that. ...I'd like that."




<- 8. In Which Peter Makes It Easy To Imagine . 10. In Which Peter Gets Caught With His Pants Down ->