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Sleeping with Flash Thompson was something that, if you asked him as a teenager, would have never crossed Peter Parker’s mind; if you had asked him ten years ago, five… or maybe even six months ago, it still would have never crossed his mind. Flash had been the bully, the big man on campus, the jerk who always picked on him; by some stroke of fate, the two of them had ended up becoming friends in later years. Good friends at that. And by another twist of fate, they were here for the third time in a month since Flash had come clean about being Venom of all people.
Peter had his arm draped loosely about the blond’s neck, his lips parted and his eyes shut tight. Flash had his face close to Peter’s neck, breath hot against his skin, quickening his pulse. While so much of Peter stubbornly loathed the idea that one of his best friends was wearing the symbiote, he had to admit they would have a much harder time about doing this without it, and Peter didn’t know if he could give this up.
A small groan left his lips as a small wave of pleasure rolled through him – he was close. They’d been at this for a while now. Flash knew it and he grinned slightly, and Peter could feel that grin right against his neck, just as he could feel those hips starting to slow down their thrusts. He shuddered, knowing that Flash was doing it on purpose… teasing him. Peter’s fingers dug down into Flash’s back, making the blond tense, but it didn’t get him to stop. It seemed that some things didn’t change with time.
And what if things had been like this back in high school? What if this had been the kind of teasing Flash gave him? It was kind of nauseating and thrilling at the same time; the rush of Peter’s blood took on this sickly, prickling sensation. He felt like he was floating on a choppy sea, to think that back in high school “Puny Parker” and Flash “The Man” (or whatever they called him) Thompson could have been in doing this in some strange parallel universe. And what would that have been like?
Peter imagined that it would have been nothing like this. This would have gone a lot more quickly, a lot rougher back in high school, and that thought thrilled Peter just a bit. For the longest time, Flash had been the alpha male and looking back on it, Peter felt a sense of shame that he might have enjoyed that larger body holding him down in one of the locker rooms. Even in the middle of making love with Flash now, in the present day (and yes, Peter had admitted to himself that this was making love… at least for him), Peter hated himself just a little for thinking he might have, just a tiny little bit, enjoyed this back then.
And he thought that Flash was good at this. Several girlfriends, an ex-wife, and his relationship with Betty… they’d all probably done a good job of making Flash adaptive. Their first time had been awkward, but their second time was astronomical, and this time… this time Peter thought he might have gone to heaven, if not for that pit of guilt in his belly. Betty. One of his best friends, and Peter was here sleeping with her (ex?)-boyfriend. It was never his intention, but when was this ever someone’s intention? This was an accident; this was going to explode; this was going to be like the Civil War and the Skrull Invasion all over again. This… This…
Flash had picked up the pace again, maybe picking up on how Peter’s thoughts were drifting, or maybe it was that he had caught out of the corner of his eye those very small tears that Peter rarely ever let himself shed, and that he didn’t even know he was shedding now. That heat in his face was just arousal. Totally. This was the moment where Flash showed off how much of a romantic he could be. This was the moment Peter had come to love in only a month. This was Flash practically rocking with Peter on the bed, rocking into him and holding him down. This was something Peter knew they could have never have had in high school; this was something Peter was grateful for now; this was something that he knew he would have to give up one day, but not this time.
This was Flash drawing away from his neck to look into his eyes.
This was Peter wondering why Flash looked a little sad when he did, still unaware of his own tears.
This was Peter’s moans coming closer and closer together.
This was him pulling Flash down again, for one kiss to top everything off, feeling a few stray drops of sweat drip from those longish strands of blond hair, feeling the heat of that body on top of him, inside of him.
This was Peter shuddering and losing himself in that final moment, his back arching, his cock throbbing between them as he spent and spilled himself against Flash’s abdomen.
Peter sighed – but his sigh was cut short by the next thrust, and the next, and the next until Flash had come too.
Being considerate enough to not collapse on that smaller body under him, Flash slowly pulled himself out of the brunet, softly apologizing when he made a wrong move and drew out a yelp. He waited five seconds before moving again. Once he was out, he reached under the comforter to slip off the condom, and he just casually tossed it to the side, which drew a grimace from Peter once he settled down to next to the brunet.
Every time.
“What?” Flash gave a look like he didn’t know what he just did, though the opposite was true. Peter rolled his eyes and very slowly rolled over just enough to slip an arm over the blond’s chest, murmuring that he was going to miss this.