ofthespider

Title; In Which Peter Pretends To Deal
Fandom; Marvel (Spider-Man/Daredevil)
Characters/Pairings; Peter Parker/Matt Murdock
Theme; 24. I want you to hate me
Canon; About a week and a half after In Which There Is Unrest
Rating; R/NC-17
Warning(s); Men having sex with each other. Shock!
Summary; After a shared night as Daredevil and Spider-Man, Matt and Peter go home and deal with some domestic issues of their own. And by "deal with", I mean something else because if they dealt with it now what the hell would they do for the next seven chapters?
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



Despite living there, Peter tended to leave Hell's Kitchen to Matt, instead. When they ran into each other, it was near the end of the night as Peter swung back home. Like tonight, as he dropped down on a rooftop carrying a bag of take out food. Matt turned toward Peter, sniffing the air and grinning.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"The best pizza in New York shoved into a paper bag? You bet it is. Come here."

They set up shop on the side of the building, Peter holding himself to the wall with his feet and Matt half-curled up on the outstretched head of a gargoyle. They didn't usually have time to sit around a table and eat dinner, but this was practically the same thing. It was comfortable here, close but not too close. Ever since Matt had lost control and given Peter a good right hook, they'd been cautious. Matt didn't come too close and Peter didn't often invite him. The bruise had completely faded the other day, but there was still that tense feeling, despite Peter's constant assurances that everything would be fine.

"---and that Clinton school hasn't called me back yet," Peter was saying, swallowing a piece of pepperoni. "Not that I blame them, Kim had a pretty good reason for asking me not to come back."

"I'm telling you, Peter, you could sue him for that." Matt frowned.

"Matt, I'm not going to sue someone I agree with."

"What?" Matt's mouth dropped out, incredulous. "You think it's a good thing he fired you?"

"With all the dust I was kicking up? Yeah. I don't blame him, maybe I would've done that, too. It's all right, I'll find another job. And Lydia's going to call me tomorrow about tutoring Jordan we'll be... Matt?"

"Hush." Matt had his head raised, jerking to one side and turning. Listening to something too quiet for Peter to pick up on. Without a word to Peter, Matt set down his food and vaulted off the gargoyle.

"Hey!" Peter immediately jumped after him, following Matt as he landed hard on a fire escape and instantly began to pry up a window. "Matt, what the---"

As soon as the window opened, Peter could hear it: the sound of skin hitting skin, a kid crying, an adult shouting insults. After that, Peter crawled in right behind Matt. This was breaking and entering and really illegal, but so was beating a kid, so ... too bad. It was heartbreaking to listen to the boy crying for his father to stop.

On the upside, their shouting meant the father didn't hear Daredevil or Spider-Man coming. At all. He wasn't a big man, but he was stocky, gang tattoos threading up his arms, though Peter couldn't tell what they were when he was moving, repeatedly striking his son in the back until Matt shoved him. There was no discussion between them; Matt immediately went for the father, shoving him up against the wall, while Peter dropped down to the kid.

"Hey---hey, kiddo, shh, I won't hurt you." He couldn't have been more than eight or nine, and when he looked up, he gaped.

"Spider-Man!" he said, hushed, scared that raising his voice would draw the attention of his father. His face was wet with tears and he was shaking, letting Peter pull him closer. "What---" The kid twisted, gasping when he saw his father pinned to the wall by Daredevil, flinching back when Matt took a break in his enraged growling to punch him hard in the stomach.

"Don't look," Peter said, pulling him even closer and covering the side of his face with his hand, shielding his eyes. Matt didn't take well to people who hurt their kids, and he was more than proving it, the punch turning into a beating. Matt had given up on yelling, and for a minute, the only sounds in the room were the man's grunts of pain and the kid's whimpering, hearing every punch, every blow, scared instead of feeling protected. "Just don't look. Here, come on---"

Standing, he pulled the boy up with him, moving away and keeping his hand over the kid's face, breathing, "Does your dad hurt you a lot?"

The kid nodded reluctantly, clinging to Peter.

"Where's your mom?"

"Don't know."

"How about family? You have any other family?"

"No."

Peter bit the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing. That made it a whole lot worse; there was nowhere to bring him, other than to the police. "I'll make sure you're safe, all right?" Peter promised. "We'll get you out of here."

The boy didn't respond, except to shake some more. In the other room, the sound of the beating stopped, accompanied by the sounds of Matt's footsteps coming closer. When Daredevil stepped into the room, the kid turned away and buried his face against Peter's chest. "No."

"No what, kiddo?"

"Him."

"Him...?" Peter looked up at Matt---and then it hit him. Oh. Matt was pretty scary, when he thought about it, decked out in red leather and horns with blood on his hands. From the way he'd reacted, the kid trusted Spider-Man, enough to use him as protection against the devil that had wandered into his home.

Matt took a careful step forward, saying softly, "I'm not the bad guy, kid. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"No."

Peter shifted the kid's weight while Matt frowned. "I'll handle this, Hornhead. You head home."

"But---"

"Please."

Matt reluctantly nodded, going ahead of Peter and out the window. Peter didn't look to see what had become of the kid's dad---for the boy, of course. For the kid. That was what he told himself.


* * *


By the time Peter got home, it was later than usual, and he was surprised to find that Matt had waited up for him. Matt tended to crash right after being Daredevil, but he'd changed out of his suit and was on the couch when Peter got back, standing when he crawled through the window.

"Hey..." Peter tugged off his mask, frowning. "You okay? It's late."

"I'm fine." Matt didn't move in to touch him, and Peter didn't invite it. It left an uncomfortable space between them, and when Matt didn't saying anything else, Peter turned to head to the bathroom.

"Need a shower," he muttered, stripping out of his suit on the way and leaving it on the floor. He'd pick it up later. Peter felt grungy, but ultimately satisfied; he'd taken the kid to a hospital to be patched up and looked after, though it had taken a while to pry him off of Spider-Man. He wondered what would happen, but ... there was only so much Spider-Man could do. New York had to be trusted to take care of its own, now.

Ten minutes into his shower, Matt gently opened the door, slipping in quietly. "Hey, Pete?"

Peter ran his hands through his hair, sifting out traces of shampoo. "Hm? You okay? You need something?"

"You mind company?"

Peter hesitated, bit his lip, but said, "Nah. Come on in."

Matt was nearly silent undressing, stepping into the shower cautiously, as if Peter would change his mind any second. Peter reached back, gently touching Matt's hip. Taking that as an invitation, Matt stepped in, sliding his arms around Peter's waist, pausing just before settling to make sure Peter wasn't going to push him away. When he didn't, Matt let his grip tighten a little, holding Peter to his chest and resting his head on Peter's shoulder.

"How's the kid?" Matt murmured.

"He's okay. Dazed and tired, and he'll start wondering about his dad in the morning, but ... okay. I think. I like to think." Peter gently kissed the side of Matt's head, closing his eyes against the water. "...His father's alive, right?"

Matt frowned. "Of course he is."

"By how much?"

"He'll be fine."

"Just checking." You know. Because he'd feel bad not asking. "You can get pretty brutal, you know."

Matt pulled back a bit, tilting his head to the side before abruptly asking, "Are you afraid of me?"

Peter opened his eyes to stare for a second---and then he laughed. "Of course not." Much. "If I were afraid, I wouldn't be here. I can take care of myself; I'm a big girl, I tie my own sandles and everything."

"You have got to stop quoting Disney."

"I can't believe you saw that movie."

"Technically speaking----"

"Blah blah, blind man joke, I know."

"But, Peter. Seriously." Matt nudged the side of Peter's head with his nose. "Are you?"

Peter frowned, turning his head up to face Matt before forgetting that eye contact was pretty useless. "It happened once, Matt. Let it go," he pleaded. "We're past it."

"So past it you still don't like being touched?" Matt raised an eyebrow. They'd been together for months and Peter still hadn't gotten over that 'are you kidding me?' face Matt made. Matt's expressions were always so honest---mostly because he didn't know how to be any other way, really.

Peter snorted lightly, kissed Matt's cheek. "You're touching me right now," he reminded Matt, nuzzling gently. Just let it go, Matt. Please.

"Peter---"

"Shut up."

Either Matt listened or he was too shocked by Peter telling someone else to 'shut up', but whatever it was, it made him quiet down long enough for Peter to kiss him firmly on the mouth. It swallowed whatever protests Matt had and he melted into it with a little moan instead, bringing a hand up to tangle in Peter's wet hair. It had been a little over a week since Peter had kissed Matt like this, but it felt more like a year, sitting on the edges of Peter's personal space and hoping to be invited back in.

Peter turned, facing Matt so he wouldn't have to crane his neck, heart heavy and pounding in his ears (or was that the water against the side of the tub?). It was late, they were tired, but Matt was there and naked and wet and---

---And pulling back, resting his hand over Peter's heart. "Pete. We have to talk about this."

"Stop worrying about it," Peter breathed, voice wavering just for an instant. "It's water over the bridge, or under the dam, or wherever the hell you want it. You don't scare me." He leaned in for another kiss, only to be stopped by Matt's hands cradling his face. Peter frowned, shifting to rest his thigh between Matt's legs.

"You're avoiding the problem," Matt said bluntly, sucking in a breath when Peter pressed in, already hardening against Peter's leg.

"I'm not mad." Peter reached up, taking Matt by the wrists and pulling his hands down. "It's too late at night for this conversation, anyway."

"Now's as good a time as---" Matt faltered when Peter reached between them to wrap his hand around his cock, sucking in another breath when he squeezed. "You're distracting me."

"I'm coming onto you." Peter kissed the side of Matt's mouth, gently stroking. "There's nothing to distract you from."

"You're doing that thing," Matt informed him, swallowing a groan. "Where you, ah..."

"Where I what?" Peter murmured, gently easing down onto his knees, kissing Matt's naval, lowering his head to brush his mouth over the base of Matt's hard on.

"Where you ignore everything I say and----ohhh, God. Never... never mind."

Peter's response is a light moan.


* * *


"You've reached Matt Murdock, please leave a message after the beep."

Peter groaned, grabbing a pillow and plopping it on top of his face just as the answering machine beeped.

"Peter? It's Aunt May. Pick up your phone, sweetie. Peter...?"

Peter reluctantly pushed the pillow away, rolling onto his side and groping for the phone, forcing his eyes to open. The ringing he could ignore. The message he could ignore. Aunt May? Not so much. As he grabbed for the receiver, he squinted at the clock, groaning again. Late. It was late. He'd slept in and it was late---which would have been a concern if he had a job, but he didn't go into the Bugle until the afternoon. But. Still.

"'Morning Aunt May."

"Peter! There you are. Oh, honey, did I wake you up? You're usually up by now."

"Yeah," he muttered. "I'm fine. Slept in, that's all." Peter rubbed at his eyes, rolling onto his back to be greeted by a light kiss to his cheek before Matt shifted to accomodate, resting on his shoulder. Matt threw his leg over Peter's thighs, clearly not ready to be getting up and moving around. "What's up?"

"I wanted to remind you to bring your laundry when you come over today."

Peter faltered, frowning and nudging Matt, breathing, "We're supposed to go over there today?"

Matt grunted. "Who's we?"

Peter shrugged, going back to the phone. "Sure. You want me to bring anything else...?" Is it dinner? Are they supposed to go over for dinner or what?

"Oh, no, dear. I already made dessert. You two just come on over and enjoy dinner. You both work so hard."

At that, Peter nudged Matt. "We are we, apparently. ----We'll remember that, Aunt May. Thanks. I'll see you there. ---I love you, too." He hung up, turning back to kiss Matt's forehead and groan. "And I was asleep, too."

"Ohh, I know." Matt ran a hand down Peter's chest, resting on his stomach. He shifted again when Peter turned toward him, his hand on the small of Peter's back, instead. "Poor baby."

"Speaking of which---why is it every time we do something, my ass has to hurt? Can't you ever be gentle?" He said it with an obvious affection, more jest than actual annoyance.

Matt snickered, reaching down to give Peter's rear an affectionate smack. "Because I can't get enough of your ass. Besides, you started it, don't complain."

"Yeah yeah yeah." Peter responded by pushing Matt onto his back and straddling his waist, leaning down for a kiss (to Matt's neck, of course, because ew, morning breath).

"And now you're starting it again." The edges of Matt's mouth turned up in a wry grin.

"Mmhm. I actually slept last night. But---mm." He kissed Matt's collar, working his way down his chest. "Maybe next time----next time, we shouldn't start something at four in the morning, hm?"

"We? Who's we?" Matt snickered, affectionately ruffling Peter's hair. A moment later, he was relaxing back with a sigh, hand resting in Peter's hair when his tongue found its way down to Matt's cock, his mouth close behind. "Mm. And you like to complain..."

It was all very relaxing, really. Peter had found a while ago that he liked going down on Matt---and to be honest, there wasn't much effort attached to it, the way Matt's senses were. Peter was content to rest between Matt's legs, gently moving up and down the length of Matt's cock, Matt's hand in his hair like an encouraging guide to go along with his happy moans---

Until someone knocked on the door. Hard. Peter nearly pulled away, but Matt tightened his hand in Peter's hair, keeping him down for the second it took to listen to the heartbeat. "Don't stop," he said, breath shaky. "I'm close, don't stop---"

Peter shrugged, ignoring the insistant knocking on their front door and going ... right back to what he was doing. It didn't take long for Matt to come, arching up and tugging on Peter's hair almost painfully, Peter swallowing more out of necessity than anything else, giving Matt the time he needed to relax his grip. Pulling himself up, Peter wiped at his mouth, asking, "Who's at the door?"

Matt made a face, half-heartedly swatting at Peter and mumbling, "Shut up, don't talk so loud..."

Again, more knocking, and Peter frowned. "Matt."

"S'Foggy, go get the door, god damn it." Matt practically shoved Peter off, grabbing a pillow and rolling onto his side before jamming it over his head.

Peter snorted, pushing himself out of bed and grimacing at the sore, sticky feeling between his legs. He'd ... have to shower later. Instead, he grabbed a pair of jeans and an undershirt, pulling them on before going to the door, yelling, "I'm coming! I'm coming, Jesus Christ!"

When he opened the door, he was met with a grumpy, "It's about damn time---" stopped short when Foggy looked up and saw ... not Matt. "Oh. Peter."

"Hi." Peter shifted his weight, self-consciously running his fingers over his mouth again, wiping them on his jeans.

"Hi." Foggy grimaced. "Where's Matt?"

"Naked," Peter said honestly, taking sick pleasure in the disgusted look on Foggy's face before chiding himself. Come on, Peter, that's mean. "I mean, naked as in sleeping and getting up and not yet dressed. Give him a few minutes."

"He'd better make them a fast couple minutes. We're supposed to be in court in an hour and a half, Matt." Foggy didn't raise his voice, knowing Matt should be listening. Peter shrugged, moving aside to let Foggy in, though Foggy didn't go in further than the first few feet, stubbornly keeping his shoes and coat on and making a point of tapping his foot on the ground impatiently.

"He was up late," Peter warned. "As Daredevil. Up late as Daredevil."

Foggy raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. That's nice. We're still due in court."

"Just saying."

"Right."

It took fifteen minutes for Matt to rescue Peter and Foggy from awkward chit chat, smoothing his suit. "Okay. All right, I'm good, let's---"

"Come here," Peter interrupted, pulling Matt over and fixing his tie, completely tucking in his shirt. Foggy watched the whole exchange twitching impatiently, rolling his eyes, making a point of checking his watch. "Okay. Now you don't look like you just rolled out of bed."

"Thank you," Matt said, so sickeningly sweet and grateful Peter made a face when he leaned in to kiss his cheek. ---And then he reached down, affectionately smacking Peter on the ass before pulling away.

"Hey---!"

Foggy reached over, taking Matt by the arm and half dragging him to the door. "Come on, Matt, stop messing around, your boyfriend will be here when you get home."

Peter watched Foggy drag Matt away, rubbing his rear and rolling his eyes before calling, "Be back in time for dinner!"