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It wasn't until Miles' third visit to Hobie's universe that the Spider-punk took him to his real home.
Well, not so much a home as, well, a boat. Literally, a boat.
Hobie lives on a boat.
The first second Miles sees Hobie's boat, he exclaims:
"Wait--you live on a boat? But I thought that apartment was..."
Miles had been to Hobie's apartment on a previous date, or during a meeting. Minimalist style two-bedroom apartment, even the furniture is very little - but this, in front of this boat is different. Imagine someone actually doing what every boy dreams of as a child, living on a boat.
"Can you be any way cooler?"
When Hobie took him on a tour of the interior of the ship, Miles could not help but to send such an sign with emotion.
"It's late."
Miles glanced at his phone and found that Hobie was right, it was close to one in the morning. Just as Miles was thinking about how to say goodbye to Hobie, the other man turned to him and offered extremely naturally, "You wanna stay over?"
Myers' eyes widened: "Like on this boat? Hell yeah! It's awesome!"
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Staying the night on Hobie's boat was like fulfilling Miles' Christmas wish this year. The boat was rocking slightly in the night wind and waves, and he could hear the sound of the water lapping against the hull, and the wind and waterfowl calling - the only thing he could hear.
If I had to be picky, the only downside would be that Hobie's boat only had a single bed that could accommodate a person. So they had to sleep on their sides together. This caused them to be so close together that Miles could feel the warmth of Hobie's body and his warm breath on the skin of the back of his neck--
"Stop moving."That would be Hobie.
"I'm not--"Miles tried to retort, but Hobie interrupted him before he could finish:"You're moving now."
"Okay--it's this bed--it's too small and...well I'm not complaining but, I'm just saying if we're going to be this close all night--I can't control it if imma about to sleep or falling asleep, so--"
"So you're sleep deprived." Hobie exhaled a stream of hot air into the back of Miles' neck again, and Miles wasn't even sure if the other man was doing it on purpose; just as he was about to retort to Hobie, a pair of hands suddenly wrapped around his waist, palms stroking slowly against the skin of his stomach: "Since we are both not going to sleep for a moment, you wanna do something, just to kill the time?"
Miles didn't quite understand what Hobie meant. Or rather, he knew exactly what was going to happen, only his subconscious prevented him from thinking it that way.
"Sure." Miles took a while until Hobie started to help him take off his hoodie and he realized that it was his own voice just now.
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Hobie was touching him. His long, strong fingers were moving and swirling back and forth against the small of Miles' back and forth, gently pressing on the sensitive muscle from time to time. Miles never knew his belly was so sensitive. He had never been so turned on so quickly.
Every piece of his skin that Hobie touched felt like it was on fire, and to get rid of this strange feeling, Miles forced himself to suppress the urge to gasp and speak: "Please? Like whatever you gonna do just...please? Do it."
Hobie laughed at his words, a low voice vibrating from his chest: "Easy Peter Pan. I don't wanna hurt you....Well, I'll try not to. But I cannot promise, not to hurt you."
"Understood."
After Miles gave his response, Hobie's entire body was pressed against him.
His fluffy hair fell, with each shake kept brushing Miles' collarbone and chin; from this angle Miles could finally see Hobie's look, no longer cool, cold with a sense of distance or cynical, Hobie's face showed a ... hunger, greed and tenderness mixed with the look.
The only thing he could feel was Hobie's hands around his waist, bringing him the illusion of his entire body; the overly sensitive skin around his waist allowed him to feel the calluses left on Hobie's index fingers and thumbs from playing guitar, and the roughness of the touch brought a rush of heat across Miles' skin every time, making him nearly frantic. All of this was particularly difficult for Spider-Man, because Miles had to fight his instincts to the death: his spider-sense told him that Hobie's behavior was now dangerous for him, while his heart wanted the other guy to continue.
"Does it hurt?" Hobie suddenly stopped his move, caught Miles' chin and turned his head to look directly at Hobie's gently with one hand.
"....no?"
Miles' reaction was half a beat slower, and Hobie's sudden stopping touch created an illusion of abandonment for him.
And once again, Hobie was amused by his answer: "Is that a question for me, or it's an answer?"
"Both. I guess."
In response, Hobie soothed him with more kisses. The kisses slowly relaxed Miles; through their skin pressed together Miles could hear Hobie's heartbeat.
Hobie was giving off a steady stream of heat, which is kinda weird. every kiss from Spider-punk was gentle enough, except when the kiss landed on Miles' lips. That's when Hobie would recklessly snatch the air from his mouth, like a man about to drown. Maybe that's how Hobie kisses, or maybe he's kissed other people that way; Miles can't be sure, because the only person he's ever kissed is Hobie, so he can't tell how the other person's kisses are, whether they're good or bad.
All he knew was that when Hobie kissed him, his whole body felt like it had been poured into ten bottles of hard liquor; he hadn't tried to get drunk yet either, but Miles couldn't find a way to describe it all.
This feeling is better than when he left stickers in the street graffiti or crime fighting, better than when he saved the world after countless people said thanks Spider-Man to him, better than - everything.
He is like a balloon that has been blown full, waiting until the last moment to explode. But he will not hurt anyone, only pure pleasure.
Miles couldn't help but let out a moan as Hobie kissed the side of his neck again; he pressed himself against Hobie's body, their vision enhanced in the darkness, their outlines clearly visible to each other, but Miles chose to close his eyes for the moment and began to picture Hobie in his mind's eye.
In the fourteenth page of his sketchbook, twenty-seventh, thirty, thirty-one, forty-nine ...... and more pages than he could count later, he had sketched Hobie's appearance from memory. He had wanted to be like Hobie, trying to imitate Hobie's behavior because Hobie was more mature and uninhibited than he was, but Miles could only do it all in his imagination.
And when he kissed Hobie, he could only think of the meaning of the act of kissing itself, and everything else seemed to be nonexistent.
Miles lifted his head to try to meet Hobie's movements, and when the tip of his nose was against Hobie's, when they could feel each other's breath spraying on their skin, everything was drowning in desire.
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Miles was too small for him - physically, he was a full size smaller than Hobie, which gave Hobie the feeling of wanting to rub the other man into him - and he pretty much did. He couldn't get any closer to Miles while trying to drown him out with kisses.
"You're pretty." Hobie said in between kisses, looking up at Miles.
And Miles seemed to start getting tight and nervous again after hearing him say that: "Thanks... I guess? I-I mean, you're...also very cool. like way cooler than I am... I kinda want to be like you."
"No Spidey. when I said you're pretty, I mean on the inside."
Miles laughed nervously, but he soon realized from the serious look on Hobie's face that he wasn't joking or flirting with him.
" There's something about you that makes you special.You don't bend over to fate or to power . You have this unconstraint soul Peter Pan."
"I just want you to know that, the reason I took you here was not to take off your clothes--doesn't mean I don't wanna have sex with you. It's more than that. I know it's a lot and my world's a mess.... . and I'm trying, really hard not to hurt you."
"Well," Miles thought seriously for a moment before speaking: "Then..don't hurt me."
He took the initiative and kissed Hobie, originally aiming right for his lips, but perhaps because he was too nervous, Miles ended up kissing the ring of Hobie's lips. The cold metal calmed him down strangely quickly. At the same time, it also made him realize something.
The kiss was not out of his envy and yearning for Hobie, but out of pure lust.
Hobie felt Miles's tension through his trembling lips. His thumb gently stroked the lateral carotid artery of the boy he had pinned down: "Trust me, alright Spider-boy?Now be a good boy for me and tell me, does it hurt?"
"....."
"Huh?"
"I said. I just...don't care if you hurt me or not.... .just..... Actually I'd rather you hurt me a bit. . you know what," Miles suddenly became irritable, as if the hot stream rising from his lower abdomen turned into lava, if he did not quickly vent out, he fears that his whole body will burn up.
Miles suddenly pushed hard on Hobie's shoulders and rolled the other man onto his back; now they were in perfect alignment, with Miles' legs spread on either side of Hobie's body, his buttocks sitting on the other man's belly and squeezing Hobie's crotch continuously downward.
"If you gonna be this dawdling I might as well just...help myself."Miles tried to make himself sound calm. But he didn't realize his voice was trembling.
Hobie was amused by Miles' choice of words. He laid back on the floor and casually said:"Sure. Help yourself Peter Pan."
It was a lot more complicated than Miles had imagined. He unzipped Hobie's pants, reached for his erection and stroked Hobie from root to crown for starting, then he froze.
Miles was already nearly naked, except for his socks and the gloves on his left hand, which he had forgotten to take off in the process; he could feel the precum dripping from Hobie's half-hard genital, and he could feel the hot part of Hobie's lower body rubbing against his buttocks.
What should he do next?
Hobie reminded him very appropriately at this point:"You need to open up a little bit more, querido."
That's what Miles' mom would call him. And Miles shivered for this nickname.
Hobie lent a hand in time. He teased Miles' entrance with his fingers, and his precum was drooling, wetting Miles' buttcheeks. When Hobie pressed his erection against Miles' loosened hole, Miles bit his lips to prevent his moans from leaking, but Hobie squeezed his chin with a bit of warning.
Miles felt he was suffocating. On the one hand, he felt a sense of satiation throughout the process, as if Hobie was not only entering his body, but also psychologically invading it - as if the cynical and carefree attitude of the other man was slowly infesting him; on the other hand, apart from a little discomfort of being stretched open, Miles developed A strange sense of ... greed. He's longing for more, but didn't know how to describe this longing.
"Don't hold back, Sunflower...can you let me hear you?"
Then Miles started to gasp, moan, even sobbing for overwhelmed pleasures brought by Hobie entering his body.
Miles can hear the obscene wet sounds as Hobie pulling his erection in and out.
And as soon as Miles started to gasp, Hobie began fucking him fiercely. He was kissing, more like biting Miles' nipple and neck, leaving deep wounds and bruises. A tingly feeling, like electricity current going through Miles' body and the pleasure just soaring through his whole body from his spine. And during the whole process, Hobie never stopped kissing him. Or biting.
It was as painful as enjoyable.
Then there was only obscene sound of body colliding.
Hobie made him come. Twice. And the last time when Spider-punk finally cum inside him, it took Miles quite a while to come back to his sense.
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By the time they were done doing everything it was almost dawn. Miles could feel the sheets beneath him becoming sticky and uncomfortably clinging to them; but he really didn't have the strength to move, so Miles carefully got on top of Hobie, using him as a cushion and praying that Hobie wouldn't find his true intentions.
Hobie may have thought Miles was just trying to cuddle, or maybe he found out Miles' true intentions and he just didn't care.
At this point their sleepiness is gone, so they begin to casually share topics of conversation; such as the two or three robberies in Miles' universe this week, or Hobie being wanted by the police for leading another illegal rally protest.
Then the conversation took a sudden turn.
"Did you tell your parents about your, little secret?" says Hobie, holding both of Miles' wrists in one hand and playing with them.
"No... I think I'll wait till they're ready..or I am ready to tell."Miles constantly squirmed on top of Hobie, searching for a comfortable position.
"Who told you that?"
Miles looked up with a little confusion at Hobie's question: "What? No no, that's just my plan--" "No. I mean who told you that you could live to the day you're ready.
"I mean who told you that you could live to the day you're ready." Hobie's voice sounded ever so calm, now even to the point of coldness.
"......"
Miles was silent. He had always known that death was not far away, he had watched another soul flame go out before his eyes, but he had never considered what it would be like for this to happen to him.Not until Hobie mentioned that.
"This is our life, Miles...and I just live it to the fullest.No one ever knows what will happen to us "
"Say your love today for the chance may come late. That my philosophy."Hobie sniffed the extremely light smell of shampoo on top of Miles' head and a little sweat, and now he smelled like himself. Like leather mixed with smoke :"It's also a lyric from one of my songs."
"... I think I will tell them. Like first thing tomorrow when I get back home."
"And when do you planning on telling them about us? Not that I care, I don't believe in consistency, I just feel that they need to know. It's their right."
"I already did. " Miles cracked a smile.
"Why would you live on a boat anyway? I mean it is cool but..why?"
"Coz when I was a little boy, all I ever wanted was a boat. If I want I can just jump on my boat and sailed away. A Boat represents freedom, security."
"Relax Peter Pan. It's not like the world's ending. C'mon gimme a smile."
"And why would you keep calling me Peter Pan?"
"What, you hate 'em?"
"No...I'm just, curious."Miles twisted and turned, and when he finally found a comfortable position, he chose to let Hobie hold him from behind, with both arms wrapped around his waist.
"Because to me you're like Peter Pan."
"Coz I'm curious all the time?--Or because I'm still a little boy to you, like immature?"Miles couldn't say he was satisfied with the answer, but he didn't bother to turn around and refute it all the same.
"No."
Hobie pressed Miles closer to him. He wants Miles to stay in his embrace:"Coz you're like my Fatasy Island."