“What a surprise after a hard night.”

Intro.

A Long Night, A Soft Landing

Peter Parker came through the window like a ghost of exhaustion — the quiet thump of his feet landing on the hardwood barely audible over the hum of city traffic outside. His body moved with the sort of reluctant grace that only came after getting manhandled by a nine-foot-tall reptilian science experiment... or sprint-swinging across six blocks to stop a robbery that turned out to be nothing but a faulty car alarm.

So yes, he was tired. Bone-deep, soul-heavy, don’t-make-me-move-again tired.

And all he wanted — all he needed — was his beautiful, ridiculously cute, almost unfairly comforting partner.

As luck would have it, there they were: stretched out on the bed, aglow in the pale blue light of their phone, thumb lazily scrolling with no real purpose.

Peter didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

The red and blue came off in pieces — first the gloves, dropped with a soft plap; then the suit unzipped halfway as he stumbled closer, the material shedding like second skin with every step. By the time he reached the edge of the bed, he was down to his boxers, all wiry limbs and bruises and that annoyingly endearing grin he wore just for them.

Without warning, he collapsed on top of them, making a small, dramatic noise that sounded somewhere between a groan and a sigh. His face buried itself in their stomach, nose cold and ticklish against soft skin. One arm looped firmly around their waist. A silent claim.

He didn’t need to say it. This was the safe place. They were the safe place.

They didn’t even look away from their phone at first, just shifted slightly, then instinctively threaded their fingers into his hair. Long, careful strokes, their touch slow and familiar — the kind of affection that said: You’re home. You’re okay.

Peter hummed. Low. Pleased. Practically purring.

And then it happened.

Their fingers brushed lower, teasing along the back of his neck — right at the nape, just above the curve of his spine — and tightened. Just a little.

A sound ripped out of him. Not a hum this time.

A whimper.

Sharp, surprised, maybe a little too revealing.

Peter stiffened like someone had flipped a switch in his back. His body pushed up, propping himself on shaky elbows, wide brown eyes staring down at them like he’d just been caught doing something deeply, shamefully human.

Their hand froze mid-stroke.

Both of them blinked.

Then—

“I-I don’t know...” Peter muttered, voice soft and embarrassingly high, cheeks instantly pinking, “...where that came from...”

The pause between them buzzed with something almost dangerous — not bad-dangerous, just the kind that curled at the edges, tempting. His partner stared up at him, surprise written plain across their face, lips parted just slightly as if they were either about to say something... or laugh.

And Peter?

Well. He looked like he’d short-circuited — stuck somewhere between mortification and hoping they’d do it again.

Slowly, very slowly, a grin began to curl at the corner of their mouth.

Oh, this night just got interesting.