Where could I go?

When Jason returns from patrol, it’s not to the image he expected. 

The soft light of the Star Wars films illuminates Peter's body curled up on the couch, his brows pinched. Slowly approaching the living room, Jason first removes his mask and shrugs off his jacket. He goes to turn off the TV when a whimper stops him in his tracks. 

Turning to face Peter again, Jason surveils the man further. He’s sweating and his breathing is ragged, small words and whimpers escape from his lips as he tosses and turns. 

Approaching slowly, Jason reaches a hand out to shake Peter awake as he kneels on the ground next to the couch. Last time he approached Peter when he was on a couch he was swiftly taken down and straddled.

He really should ask about that, but not right now.

“N-no, please…” Peter begs, his voice muffled by the sleep.

Jason’s body shivers at the words, at the tone. His mind travels back to the first time he encountered Peter, the fear in his eyes at the disc he was holding in front of him. How Peter told Jason that he never wanted to do any of it. 

It clicks for Jason just as another round of words hits his ears.

“I…I promise I’ll be good, just- please,” Peter's voice is shaking now, his form becoming more scrunched up on the couch.

Underneath Jason’s worry over Peter, a white-hot shame starts to bubble in his stomach. It spreads through his chest, he could’ve been better.

He could’ve done more.

Jason shakes himself out of his thoughts, his hand still outstretched towards Peter’s shuddering form. Peter needs help right now, that's all that matters.

As soon as Jason's hand brushes Peter's shoulder, the man is awake and sitting bolt upright. A garbled scream is quickly cut off by heaving as he tosses the blanket off of himself and plants his feet on the ground. Jason stays still as he watches Peter get a hold of his surroundings, the fear leaving his eyes. Peter’s eyes lock on Jason in his kneeling form. Even in the dark, the man can see the blush creeping up on the other person's face.

“Fuck- I’m sorry I-,” Peter's hands tangle towards his hair as the last heaving breaths seem to leave him exhausted.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Jason keeps his voice calm and steady as he stands up, offering a hand to Peter.

Peter takes it, and the two head towards Peter's bedroom. Jason can see Peter getting increasingly tired as they walk to the room. His steps start to get more sloppy, Jason places an arm around his shoulder to keep him upright, pointedly ignoring the feeling it places in his chest.

Not right now.

When the pair arrives at the bed, Peter flops onto it unceremoniously earning him a chuckle from Jason. In the dim moonlight streaming through the window, he can see Peter's eyes are still wide open with emotion. That pang of shame settles in his chest again as he sees the aftermath of the nightmare, he’ll probably be wallowing in that tonight.

Jason pulls a blanket over Peter and turns around to leave when a trembling hand wraps itself around his wrist with a surprising amount of strength.

“Stay…please?”

The request is quiet, but it feels like the only thing Jason has heard all day. 

Thank god the room is dark or else Peter would see the red hot blush creeping up his face.

“Yeah…let me change and I’ll be right back,” He keeps his tone steady.

Jason swiftly leaves the room and heads to his own bedroom. Once inside he takes a minute to sit on his bed, emotions stirring just under the surface that Jason has yet to grasp. Is he happy? Sad? Shameful? Giddy? What the fuck is he feeling right now?!

Standing up, Jason fishes some soft pajama pants and an old shirt out of a drawer and changes into them. Jason’s….happy, he thinks. It was only an hour ago that Dick talked some sense into him on that rooftop over pizza. It’s normal that he’s still figuring out shit…right?

Jason shoves his face into his clothes with an annoyed grunt. Is it usually this hard to figure out what you’re feeling? 

Whatever, he’ll deal with that tomorrow.

Right now, there's a cute boy waiting to share a bed with him. The phrase makes Jason blush even harder as he unceremoniously flops onto his bed again. Is he seriously having a crisis over this? He’s the goddamn red hood! He doesn’t take shit from anybody! He’s going to comfort his friend and it’s going to be great!

Jason stands up from the bed, his internal pep talk working wonders. Marching over to the other bedroom, Jason takes a slow breath and opens the door.

Peter stays lying on the bed, his eyes drooping sleepily. He moves slowly, his arms and legs shaking and stretching like a cat’s. 

Jason feels like he’s intruding on something intimate, like he doesn’t belong in this space. 

But Peter asked him to be here, so he will be.

“You ok, Pete?” Jason probes. Even in the dark room, he can see the shake in Peter’s hands and the terror settled in his eyes.

“...are you going to leave?” Sadness envelops Jason as he sees the fear in his friend's eyes. Peter is looking straight ahead, his body lying perfectly still.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jason slides into the bed next to Peter. His heart flutters at the sight of the other smiling as his eyes fully close. 

Jason stays up for the next twenty minutes, listening to the breathing form next to him. When Peter’s breath has evened out, Jason considers heading back to his own bedroom. He’s probably ok to go, right? He doesn’t want to make Peter uncomfortable…

An arm snaking around his waist and pulling him close with a phenomenal amount of strength cuts his thoughts off sharply. In an instant, Jason is on his side and Peter is holding him sleepily from behind, his breathing still nice and even.

Guess I can’t go anywhere now…

Jason ignores the blush rising to his cheeks, the fluttering in his heart, and the intense feeling of safety that curls around him at being held like this.

Within minutes Jason is asleep, his breathing matching Peter’s.

—

Peter wakes up to soft daylight streaming in through his window. With a stretch, he swings his feet over the side of his bed. His head feels bleary as if he didn’t get enough sleep.

Wait…he’s supposed to be on the couch, right?

Peter’s eyes blow wide as the memories from last night resurface, most of them are a foggy mess but he remembers Jason laying in bed with him…at his request. 

A choked, embarrassing, groan rips its way through Peter's body. He buries his face in his hands. New note: sleeping Peter can never be trusted, neverever. Honestly, how dare he? Jason is kind enough to keep him under his roof, to feed him and support his engineering obsession and what does Peter give him in return? He probably put him in such an awkward situation. Another groan pierces the air as Peter lies down again.

As his head hits the soft mattress Peter realizes that this bed has a distinct lack of Jason in it. 

Oh god…

He probably left in the middle of the night, too embarrassed to tell Peter no.

Embarrassment shoots through Peter's body before comfortably nestling in his chest. Peter can barely hide the blush from himself, the absurdity of the entire situation makes him want to swing into the night and never come back. Maybe living off the grid would be nice, he would definitely have less of these moments.

With a final pitiful whine, Peter stands. His bones popping comfortably as he stretches into a stand. A decisive tone enters his mind as he swings the door open. Whatever awkward tension is outside of this room, Peter will face it with dignity.

The image that greets him makes Peter stop and rethink.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. An eviction notice? Jason sitting in the chair with a stern expression and a hefty talking to? Peter might be projecting some personal stuff onto this situation.

Standing in the kitchen is Jason, his gaze focused on the stove which has two skillets on it. One cooking hashbrowns and the other frying up bacon. The smell wafts towards Peter as soon as he sees it and his stomach lets out a hungry growl. Maybe the stern talking to is later?

Jason turns towards Peter's approaching form and a soft smile crosses his face.

“Hey Pete, sleep well?”

“...yep,” Peter’s voice is tinged with a hint of confusion. Were they just going to ignore it? If that's the plan then Peter is all too happy to oblige.

Breakfast is uneventful, the pair opt to watch the trashy reality show they’ve been binging in comfortable silence.

When Peter stands to collect the plates Jason stands as well.

“I have to go today so I’ll be back…later,” Jason's eyes dart nervously as he speaks to Peter, a nervous fidget in his tone.

“Ok, I’ll see you later?” Peter questioned.

With a quick ‘yep’ and the shuffle of keys and boots, Jason is out the door and Peter is left in the silence of the apartment holding the empty plates. 

—

By the time Jason returns to the apartment, Peter is laying on the couch paging through one of the steamy romance novels he had seen when he first moved in.

“Of all the books in this apartment, why would you pick that one?”

“...I just really wanted to see how they would portray the…emotions,”

“Sure, alright. Come with me…and leave the book behind,”

Peter heads toward the door and out of the apartment. Waiting outside is a sleek motorcycle that's a deep red color, adorning the ridges of the body are smooth black lines that accentuate the sharp ridges of the bike. It looks intimidating even sitting out on the street. 

It was definitely Jason’s bike.

A helmet is placed in Peter's hands and he puts it on gingerly, it fits snugly on his face and blocks out some of the usual noises that berate him daily.

The ride is quick. At first, Peter elected to keep his hands behind him, hoping to avoid any awkward contact between the two.

That was until Peter realized Jason drove like an absolute maniac.

At the first careening turn, Peter screeched and wrapped his arms around the man's waist. Was he hugging him slightly tighter than he needed to? Yes. Was he also fearing for his life because Gotham drivers were ten times worse than New York drivers? Also yes.

By the time they arrived at their destination, Peter had kept his eyes closed for at least half of the ride. His spider-sense would surely warn him if there was trouble, right?

After a light struggle to get his helmet off Jason undoing the fastener on his chin. Peter took in his surroundings. 

An unassuming garage door was in front of both of them, it was slightly rusted around the corners and the building housing the garage was weathered as well. It looked like a mechanic shop that might’ve seen better days. However, a lot of buildings in Gotham have that classic run-down weathered look so he couldn’t judge.

“Are you going to…murder me?” Peter asked. If there was any place to murder anyone, it would be in creepy buildings with no one around.

“You think so little of me? Just close your eyes,”

“Ok now I know you’re going to murder me,” Peter places his hands over his eyes. He hears the creak of a garage door opening and he’s ushered in by Jason. He hears the garage door close behind him and a light switch flick.

“Ok…open them,”

Peter takes his hands off his eyes, in front of him is a car workshop. It’s surprisingly spacious for the small building it's housed in. To the left is a motorcycle with its engine contents neatly laid on the floor. The interior of the room is nice and well lit, tools line the wall and there's a small corner kitchenette with a mini fridge and a pantry. The right side of the room is obviously newer, with a corner desk with a large lamp and magnifying lenses mounted to an arm in the wall. Different tech equipment is neatly lined up on the table and a shelf houses multiple different containers with different labels, all corresponding to common engineering parts.

“I thought you might want a better place to do your tinkering,”

Peter’s eyes blow wide as he registers those words. This was all for him? He slowly swivels towards Jason who is fidgeting with his hands, his eyes darting from the lab to Peter's face.

Peter knows that he probably looks like a fool right now. His mouth is hanging open and his eyes are blown wide at the gesture. He quickly looks between Jason and the lab, his expression changing from shock to excitement. 

“Jason I-...Holy shit I love it,” Peter's hands move wildly as his emotions take over and joy fills his being. 

“You do?”

“Yes! Yes! This is- I mean this is just absolutely amazing I can’t believe you- no one has ever done something like this for me and oh my god you got that tool brand I was talking about!” Peter rushes over to the desk and turns on the lamp. There are already some junk tech parts in a bin under the desk that Peter can’t help but look through. Ideas race through his head at breakneck speed, a neatly placed notebook gets swiped up as Peter jots down a couple of thoughts before he rummages through the bin some more.

He stops suddenly, realizing that he hasn’t been a proper gift recipient.

Peter walks back to Jason, who now has a small smile tugging at his lips, and wraps his arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you,”

Jason's breath seems to catch as Peter holds him, he can hear the man's heartbeat speed up considerably. Just as Peter starts to assume he might’ve gone too far, a pair of arms wrap around him in a soft embrace.

“It’s no problem, you gotta get that energy out somehow,”

Peter smiles to himself, pulling away from the hug. 

The two stand across from each other for a moment and Peter takes a moment to look at Jason. He has no mask on at all, he faintly remembers it being discarded this morning but he hadn’t had much time to look at the man's face.

Altogether he was definitely attractive, his hair had a white streak Peter had never asked about because people are allowed to keep their secrets, andhe knows he’s kept plenty so far.The way Jason reacted when Peter first touched his scar was enough to teach him that. 

His eyes were a pale bright green that had small flecks of brown in them. 

He should probably stop staring into his friend's eyes.

“I’m…going to start working on stuff,” Peter juts a thumb towards the desk.

“Yep yep, I’ll be working on my bike,” 

The pair move over to their respective areas and get to work.

—

When Peter focuses, he sticks his tongue out slightly.

Jason's hands are fidgeting with the front brake disc even though his hands should be nowhere near that area. The motorcycle's shocks had gone out during a particularly rough chase, leaving the criminal to get away and a particularly nasty lash on the back of his calves. He should be working on one of his favorite bikes, the one he’s been neglecting since Peter came into his life. Since he's brought the man into his home.

He’s just taking care of his informant, right?

Jason shifts his body towards the rear shocks, assessing the damage to the bearings near the seat. Luckily he’ll only have to replace the shocks and reassess the weight distribution of the bike as a whole. His eyes drift towards Peter again. 

The man is leaning back on his chair, stretching his arms up and arching his back with a sigh. His shirt rides up slightly at the motion and Jason has to force his head back towards the bike as a vicious blush creeps up onto his face.

Who is he kidding? Peter is definitely more than an informant. To him, at least. If the feelings that constantly stir in his stomach when he even looks at the guy are anything to go off of.

Jason decides he might as well change the oil while he’s here.

Scooting towards the back of the bike, Jason fishes a small pan out of the clutter of tools and supplies on his side of the room. He wonders how quickly Peter will come up with his own organizational system.

How quickly he’ll settle in.

The thought of Peter staying, of Peter wanting to stay makes Jason's stomach explode into a weird mishmash of emotions. Of course, he would love that. But would Peter?

Jason realized a lot of things when he talked with Dick on that rooftop, but that doesn’t mean Peter's emotions towards him changed. Jason’s first impression of Peter was a rude idiot who had a gun to the poor guy's face. How the hell could Peter get over that?

He lays on his back, prepping the pan and grasping the oil cap.

Jason is brash. He’s inexplicably rude towards new people. He pushes and shoves to get what he wants.

Jason is the polar opposite of Peter. 

He pursues his lips as slowly twists the cap, flicking it away at the last second to minimize the amount of oil spilling outside of the pan. 

It’s foolish of him to think anything would come of this. 

The oil drains andthe patterning of the last droplets into the pan fill the silence of the room. Jason stands slowly and allows himself to stretch. His muscles pull uncomfortably beneath his skin as he does so. 

Growing up too fast made it harder to function sometimes.

Nope. Not going down that rabbit hole.

—

By the time the pair are finished with their respective work for the day, the sun has set deep below the horizon. The streets are eerily quiet on the ride back, but all Jason can focus on are the surprisingly strong arms gripping his waist as he swerves through traffic.

By the time they get home, it’s much too late to cook anything.

Peter suggests takeout and a trashy reality show.

Over Thai food and Bachelor in Paradise Season 6 the two sit on the couch watching the program half-heartedly.

Jason is wide awake, his Pad See Ew sitting forgotten on the coffee table. Peter, on the other hand, is barely keeping his eyes open. He sleepily comments on various show aspects, the words come out slightly mumbled.

He can feel himself relaxing on the couch as the credits roll for that episode. He knew this stuff probably wasn’t very ethical to watch but god damn was it entertaining.

Peter is sitting up on the couch and swaying slightly, his own food next to Jason's.

The apartment is quiet save for the sound of the opening theme and the usual Gotham nightlife. Jason has already confirmed he won’t be going on patrol until much later tonight. Probably until after Peter is asleep.

Speaking of Peter, the man is clearly sleepy but seems unwilling to admit it. He’s slowly laying out on the couch, still trying to comment on the show but the words are more and more indecipherable. It seems Peter’s tired demeanor is slowly leeching onto Jason as well. His eyes are starting to droop and he can feel himself settling in for a good ole couch nap. 

He flits in and out of consciousness for a bit, barely registering the pressure building on his chest.

Wait.

Jason is immediately conscious, though he doesn’t let himself jolt or move in any way.

Opening his eyes, Jason sees the source of the pressure. Peter is almost fully asleep on his chest. 

He’s breathing softly, Jason tries to tamp down the blush covering his face and the stirring feeling in his stomach. 

Jason just feels so…content.

It’s as if a crack appears in Jason's head as that word comes to mind. It’s generous. Jason hasn’t felt content for a very long time. 

Is he even ready to let himself feel that again?

Jason shifts, his former content feelings dissipating immediately. He shouldn’t have this, any of this. Whenever he tries to connect with someone, tragedy soon follows. 

He won’t let that happen to Peter.

Jason stands, half-heartedly mumbling an apology and rushing out of the room.

—

If Peter was sleepy at any point in the last few minutes, it’s all but disappeared now. Jason left the room quickly, a small apology on his lips and a shut door severing the connection between the two.

Peter was being too risky, letting himself get too comfortable around Jason. 

Now he’s left the room and Peter can’t help but feel like he’s always the reason their interactions fail.

He flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, letting his body go limp, his hands frustratedly pulling at his hair. Quickly abandoning his prior mission of sleeping, Peter sets to cleaning up the living room and going to his own bedroom to sulk. 

How did he always mess up these interactions? 

The apartment is quiet, the little bits of moonlight that broke through Gotham smog paint Peter’s room in a light silvery glow. In the darkness of night, it seems much emptier than it usually does. Flopping onto his bed, Peter groans into his pillow and allows himself to sink into the plush mattress.

The constant buzz of the city puts Peter on edge, his senses constantly picking up the sounds most Gothamites will never hear. The outlet by the doorway’s constant buzzing. The air travels through the vents even when the AC is off, a rapid heartbeat the next room over.

Peter jolts up, his sorrow long forgotten. His senses hone in on the heartbeat across the hallway. He scrambles towards his bedroom door until he’s all but pressing his ear up against it, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He softly presses his forehead up against the cool wood and takes slow, calming, breaths. The rapid heartbeat is coming from Jason's room. He strains his ears and the sound of rushed breathing couples with the heartbeat. 

Peter's hand closes around the doorknob, inching it open to investigate. Jason must be in trouble, he could be having a panic attack or worse. The door is barely cracked open as Peter moves to step into the hallway.

Before he can move any further, a light moan freezes him in place. 

Peter stands, his foot barely out the door as another moan makes its way to his ears. The blush creeping up Peter's face could rival the helmet Jason dons nightly.

Jason whimpers and Peter has to stop himself from letting his knees buckle. He definitely shouldn’t be listening to this, he’s his roommate for god’s sake! Nothing more, nothing less!

But Peter’s feet are glued to the floor, he can barely move as he soaks in every noise coming from Jason's room. He feels like a pervert, this wasn’t for him at all. But underneath that initial shame, Peter can’t help the warmth spreading through his chest that quickly moves… downwards.

“Mmph…P-peter,” Jason breathes, his heart rate speeding up.

Peter moves away from the door as if he was burned, his eyes blown wide. He stumbles back, landing on the bed. It’s barely a few seconds before Peter’s ears pick up another round of moans, his name following closely behind. 

His hands involuntarily slam over his ears, blocking out the noises. Peter barely registers how quickly he’s breathing, the silence providing him time to take stock of himself. 

He lays on his bed, splayed out on his back. His hands cover his ears tightly, andJason’s heartbeat has quieted down to a dull thrum. Peter can feel the heat of his blush all over his body. He…didn’t think Jason thought of him that way. 

It felt good to at least know one of his feelings was reciprocated. Peter would be lying if he had never traced his eyes over Jason as he cooked. Those tight compression tops Jason seemed to live in weren’t exactly unappreciated by Peter. 

The warmth spreads over Peter's body and moves towards his core, sinking lower and lower. The newfound silence allowed Peter to realize that the tent slowly forming in his sweatpants was likely due to the noises coming from the other bedroom.

An involuntary whimper makes its way through his lips as he takes in the whole situation. If Peter felt like a creep earlier, that was nothing compared to how he felt now. Peter was listening to his roommate moan and whimper, and he was getting hard from it.

He flips over and buries his face into his pillow, bringing the sides up to cover his ears. His erection presses up against the sheets in a desperate attempt to keep it down. 

Embarrassment floods Peter's mind, he has the gall to live with this guy and then be a total creep? There was something seriously wrong with him.

Then again…Peter wasn’t the one moaning his friend's name in the middle of the night.

The thought snaps Peter's head up. The moans filled his ears again and traveled straight down to his hard-on. 

It wouldn’t hurt if he just…gave in a little bit? 

The haze of horniness was definitely taking over his mind now, making it harder and harder to resist the temptation to give in to his desires. 

Peter’s hands curl underneath the pillow pulling it close to his chest and letting his ears soak up the sounds. Jason’s heartbeat has gotten faster, his breathing becoming more and more erratic. He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“F-fuck Peter,” Jason's moans have gotten more erratic, Peter ruts his hips into the bed at the words. His cock is so hard he can barely think, the sheets cushion him as he moves his hips into the mattress. A sense of relief floods him as he moves against the bed, his pent-up emotion being released- albeit slowly. Peter allows himself to moan into his pillow, his movements picking up speed.

He can hear Jason speeding up in the other room, his breathing ragged. Peter flips over quickly and moves a free hand to his cock, he needs more than just moving against his sheets. As Peter grasps his cock, a warm shiver spreads up his spine settling at the base of his neck.

He moves his hand slowly at first, the sensation eliciting a whimper. It’s been a long time since Peter’s given himself such relief. It always seemed like he never had time for himself, for things like…this.

Peter pumps faster, his back arching up. His arm moves over his eyes as he continues. Groans and whimpers fill the silent room. 

“Please…Peter…,” He pumps faster as the words hit his ears. He’s getting close, he can feel it. The ragged breathing of his friend is fading away along with his heartbeat, blood rushes to his ears as he continues moving. The image of Jason laying on his own bed, his hips bucking while he strokes himself, is conjured and Peter can barely suppress the moan it elicits. 

Is he really about to cum to the thought of his friend, his roommate? If the words and moans he’s been hearing are anything to go off of, Jason might be doing the same thing. 

“J-Jason…mmph fuck,” The words slip from his mouth involuntarily. More images fill his mind.

His soft smile when they’re in the same room together. The way he was laid out on the floor changing his motorcycle's oil today, his shirt riding up slightly to show a rough, scarred, abdomen. 

The way his chest felt pressed against his cheek.

Peter can feel himself crescendoing, wanton moans, and stuttering words filling the room he’s in. 

His hand tangles into his hair as he releases into his pants, Jason's name on his lips.

He’s panting on his back, and a light sheen of sweat covers his forehead. God damn it that felt…good. It’s been too long since he’s been able to feel like that, the pit that usually nestles comfortably in his stomach seems lighter. He feels surprisingly-

The click of a light switch and the running of a sink sends a shock through Peter. He sits up quickly, forcing his senses to sprawl out and investigate. The sound is coming from the bathroom.

The only bathroom in the apartment.

The bathroom that is coincidentally right next to his bedroom.

Ice-cold terror fills Peter's veins as he finally comes to his full senses. Did he…

Peter’s eyes lock onto the slightly ajar door taunting him from across the room.