Chapter Text
The metal door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud crack. Peter ignored it, far too busy with the way the man held him against the wall. Their mouths pressed together in a desperate and lustful kiss. Jason’s hands cupped his face, holding him still as he explored every inch of Peter’s lips. Peter gasped at the feeling, giving Jason access to his mouth and quickly deepening the kiss. His tongue pressed up against Peter's, exploring the new space. Running his hands up Jason’s hips and under his shirt, Peter rubbed at every bit of skin he was slowly exposing. Fingers brushed over scarred hips, muscled ribs and… a strap?
Slightly distracted now, Peter felt along the material till he found a buckle and undid it. The loud thud of leather and metal hitting the floor stopped Jason in his tracks. Both men stared at the offending article of clothing. A black leather shoulder holster with slots for at least 12 knives, only 8 knives remain. Peter raised an eyebrow and Jason shrugged, blushing slightly.
“It’s Gotham, gotta be able to defend myself.” His shoulders raised slightly in a mock shrug as he glanced down at the belt one final time before kicking it behind him somewhere. Peter smiled, he understood, almost everyone in this city carried some sort of weapon. So he pushed the nagging question as to where those missing knives were and chose to grab Jason’s shirt and pulled him closer to continue trying to consume his soul through his mouth.
The kiss started hesitant, but when Jason felt no resistance from Peter he went back to holding him tight. They continued a bit longer until Peter felt confident enough to let his hands roam again. This time he decided to stick with something a bit safer and less likely to pull something strange out. Running his hands along Jason’s chest he pushed up until he caught the neck of his leather jacket. Jason pulled his hands back just long enough to slip his arms out before reaching out and attaching himself to Peter again. The jacket hit the floor and Peter stopped again as he heard the tell-tale sound of metal hitting wood. More specifically, the sound of guns slipping out of half zipped pockets.
Peter raised both eyebrows this time, looking at Jason who was now doing everything in his power to not meet his gaze. Staring at the weapons as if they'd just told him the sky was actually green. Basically he looked heavily offended and like he might just throw them across the room.
“Ok so the knives I could understand, but guns as well? Little over the top don’t you think?” Jason chuckled, turning to rest his face in the crook of Peter’s shoulder. One of his hands curled up in the hair just above his neck and a shiver ran through him. Maybe this guy was a lot more dangerous than he’d first thought. Oh Thor he better not have picked up one of Batman’s lesser known rogues.
Jason didn’t respond, mouthing at his neck until Peter was once again putty in his hands. Stepping away Jason walked them backwards till they were both sat on the couch. Peter perched on his thighs and yeah maybe he didn’t mind after all. Just for one night he wanted to know what this man felt like. Then they’d never see each other again.
They went back to making out, breaths slowly becoming hotter and heavier as they both slipped back into their previous mindset. Jason’s hand still held his hair firm, twisting this way and that to give him the angles that made Peter’s limbs feel like jelly. His tongue moved from his mouth back to his neck. Laving long stripes against Peter’s neck that sent pleasurable shivers through his body. Peter moaned, reaching up and gripping Jason’s shoulders to stop himself from falling backwards and- OH MY FUCKING ASGARD ARE THOSE MORE KNIFES?!?!
With a growl Peter gripped a bit tighter and pushed Jason into the backrest. The man clearly wasn’t expecting it by the sudden shocked gasp. Peter probably put a bit too much strength behind it but honestly he was a little mad now. He glared down at Jason, who seemed to only just realise he was pinned, eyes darting from Peter to the half closed front door and then the window.
“Take them off.”
Jason blinked, turquoise eyes staring in confusion for a few seconds before he nodded dumbly. Peter leant back slightly, moving his hands from Jason's shoulders to his knees and watched him like a hawk. Calloused hands grabbed the bottom of his shirt and quickly pulled it over his head to reveal the large expanse of muscled and scarred skin that made up his torso. Peter swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth and tried not to stare at how gorgeous he looked. Jason started to reach for his trousers when Peter swatted his hand away. He looked up at Peter, clearly confused now, but he simply gestured to Jason’s shoulders.
“Not the clothes, the weapons. I swear to god if you end up pulling another damn knife out of some hidden pocket I’m throwing myself out the window.” Peter hissed, jabbing a finger into the straps that wound around Jason’s bicep. As he’d expected, more knives. Jason furrowed his brow for a second before realisation dawned on his face. Not even a Gothamite had this many weapons unless they were a goon or something.
“Oh... Right hold on there’s uhh. No good way to say this but there’s a lot more.” Peter groaned, sliding off of Jason’s lap and taking a step back. He eyed the window just off to his right. It really seemed like a good escape at this point. But Peter was just a man and Jason was sex on legs. So he leant against the coffee table and watched with growing horror as the man before him pulled weapon after weapon from under his clothes.
First Jason removes the arm bands, arm sheathes? Whatever he takes the knife holder off his biceps. As he placed them on the floor he then leant over and reached into his boots. With practiced ease he pulled knives, two from his left and three from his right. That can not be comfortable in daily life. Jason then reached into his cargo's hip pockets, removing magazines filled with bullets and yet another gun. He then reached for the pockets halfway down his thighs and started to pull even more munition from them. This process repeated for the pockets on his calves. Weapon after weapon until there was a small pile on the floor and Peter’s head was spinning. And wow yep ok, that's an actual grenade what the fuck. Peter looked from the pile of weapons to Jason, who was stood there and staring at the pile shamefully. Ears tinted red as he glanced up at Peter before quickly averting his gaze.
“Is that everything?” the second the words left Peter’s mouth he knew he would regret it. Jason opened his mouth and paused for a second before closing it again. Another quick glance at Peter. A short silence later he wet his lips and opened them again.
“There’s more under your Cargos, isn't there?” Jason's mouth snapped shut with an audible click and he nodded. Peter let out a sigh Aunt May would be proud of. He waved his hand at Jason’s lower body and sat on the table now. Legs crossed and leaning his elbows on his knees. Head perched on his folded hands. “Go on then, might as well make a show of it.”
Jason was as red as Peter’s spider suit now. Staring at Peter like he was some sort of enigma, which, rude. Sure he had an ungodly amount of firepower, but he looked like Hercules himself and he was already half undressed at this point. Jason stared at him a second longer, trying to find any hesitance. But all he saw were Peter’s warm brown eyes staring straight through him and the warm thrill it sent up his spine made him feel alive. Something he’d sorely missed.
So he did. Slowly Jason unbuckled his belt, pulling the leather free of the loops and pulling out another hidden blade. Throwing the cold steel to the growing pile on the floor and the leather somewhere on the couch behind him. The armoured cloth fell quickly, weighed down by the kevlar plates that lined it. Peter’s breath hitched slightly at what he saw. Because wrapped sound Jason’s thighs were garters. Sure they were dangerous, weapon filled, murder garters. But on those thighs it was practically sin.
Peter watched as 7 more knives joined the mountain of death on the floor, the clatter of steel on steel making his spider sense twinge but he ignored it. Enraptured by what was happening before him. Because Jason’s fingers were hooked on the waistband of his underwear and oh fuck really? More knives?
Never mind, it's a gun. An absolutely small one but a gun nonetheless, working too from the smell of gunpowder that wafted off it. He watched as Jason gently placed this one on the ground and finally met Peter’s eye. "You seduce all your one night stands like this?” His tone was light, amused, but he couldn't help the slight twinge of sadness as he implied others.
“Haven't done this in a while actually, forgot I was carrying a small armies worth on me.” Peter couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, cursing his Parker luck that the guy he chose was some sort of supervillain. Hot and dangerous, he really had a type. Harry, Mj and now Jason. He stood up, closing the gap in one quick stride and wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. He leant up, warm breath on Jason’s neck and whispered.
“If I find another knife on you”
“Yeah yeah I know, the window, Less talking more doing.”
Peter smirked, taking a step back and pulling Jason onto the couch. He laid back on the worn cloth, eyes lidded and staring up at Jason.
“Then get to doing.”