#spiderswebs

YOU FORGOT THE HYPHEN IN SPIDER-MAN

Quizzical noise, but he offers no protest as the other pulls him off the the side. Brows raised as he glances up to meet Peter’s eyes, lips parting in question– but then Peter’s lips are on his skin, and the words die in his throat as a soft gasp pushes past his lips instead. He tilts his head to give him easier access, hands falling to grip his forearms ( just tight enough to give him balance while his mind is swimming with the sudden rush on sensation ), tightening when Peter bites down, pressing closer into him. 

And just as soon as it started, it’s over ; Peter’s pulling away and Jeremy’s whining at the loss of contact. Lashes flutter over half lidded eyes, small frown crossing over features as he glances up at Peter. It takes a moment longer for his words to actually process and Jeremy starts to feel less and less like he’s floating. And then he’s scowling, rocking his weight just enough so he’s not so closely pressed against his boyfriend but not letting go of his arms quite yet. 

「 ✟ 」   ⋮   ＤＡＲＬＩＮＧ .   ⋮  ━━   There's   a   man;   a   STRANGE   man   in   what   appears   to   be   a   ...   red   and   blue   jumpsuit   ?   With   a   spider   motif,   no   less.   The   other   was   calling   himself   '   SPIDER-MAN   '   ...   but   ...

          ˗ˏˋ   ❛   ...   So   ...   where   in   the   world   are   the   REST   of   your   legs   ?   Don't   spiders   have   EIGHT   ?    ❜  ˎˊ˗

New York was certainly full of surprises. 

Never imagined he’d have any sort of encounter with the famous vigilante ( considered himself lucky if he ever saw him swinging overhead ), much less ( accidentally, somehow ) end up dating him. Yelp at the unexpected contact, stumbling back into familiar arms as he glances over his shoulder to see red and blue. The sight is enough to make his heart race for an entirely different reason, small smile slipping onto features ; he’s about to reply, but Peter’s gone before he can manage anything. Takes a moment for his brain to catch up, halfheartedly stumbling in the direction he’s swinging, dopey grin overtaking expression. 

He’s sat rather unceremoniously on the ground, jarring red and blue draped over his shoulders with an ever familiar mask ( everyone who lived in new york city knew that mask ; hell, probably everyone in the world ) in his hands. Eyes are wide, rise and fall of his chest heavy as his adrenaline wears down-- focusses just past the mask, can’t bring himself to look to intently at the damning piece of evidence that fell from his boyfriend’s ceiling ( he knew peter was a mess, but really, superhero suit on the ceiling? how haphazardly had it been thrown up there? ). Gaze only shifts when he hears Peter enter the room ( he had shrieked, hadn’t known what was happening. of course peter would come running ), halfheartedly waving the mask in his hand as some form of greeting.