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Prologue
Johnny could blame it happening to begin with on a million things. He could blame his latest failed love affair — Psionics with her manipulation and her “come visit me” and then when Johnny did (although not for her) she tried to kill him; par for the course.
He could blame his stalled rock star career that never really got off the ground or his failed reality show; or losing all his stuff when the building was destroyed again.
He could blame it on feeling a little lost without his safety net of knowing he could look up the phone numbers of countless women and know that they wanted him.
(Whether he wanted them back was a more complicated question.)
Maybe he could blame it on Ben’s words that he’d taken to heart: “Here’s to starting over.”
Maybe he could blame it on not being able to have the actual guy he was crazy about.
But when all was said and done, it happened because Johnny wanted it. Wanted Daken. He had seen this guy who was trying so hard to become a better person, to crave out who he truly was, and felt something for him, some odd connection.
And Daken looked at him, really looked at him — not through him — when he talked to Johnny. Johnny felt captivated by that gaze, the attention. The way Daken’s eyes raked over his body.
And so when Daken asked him out for a drink, after all the stuff with Osborn, Johnny had said yes.
And when Daken asked him to come up to his place for yet another drink, he said yes again.
And when he found himself pressed up against Daken’s refrigerator, with Daken’s mouth hot on his neck, he said, “yes, oh, yes” to that too.
______________________________
Act I
Another life, another time
Could there be a place for you and I?
The kiss was hot and intense from the outset. Daken manhandled him a little as if he knew that was exactly what Johnny wanted (needed).
“I want to fuck you,” Daken whispered in his ear before tugging on his lobe with his teeth.
Johnny stiffened even as his dick hardened further. Daken must have felt it because he pulled away, studying Johnny’s face with half a smirk. “Never done that before?”
Johnny shook his head, silently wishing for Sue’s powers.
“Nice.” Daken’s half-smirk became a full one, clear he’d already known the answer. Johnny bristled slightly until Daken leaned in again. He licked a slow line up Johnny’s neck. “I’d say I’ll go easy on you, but I think we both know you don’t want that. Do you, Johnny?”
Johnny shivered, his dick rock hard in his jeans. “N-no.”
“Good boy.” Daken sucked hard on his neck, raising Johnny’s hands over his head and pinning them to the fridge.
Johnny threw his head back, a long, low moan escaping his lips while Daken marked up his neck.
The trip to the bedroom happened in a blur; clothes and hands everywhere.
“I want your mouth,” Daken said, crawling over Johnny and holding him by the chin, kissing him wet and filthy.
It was both thrilling and nerve-racking when they switched positions, Johnny on his knees between Daken’s parted thighs. He felt clumsy as he kissed his way down Daken’s chest. It didn’t help that Daken barely made any noise; when Johnny looked up, he was simply watching him, that same intent stare that Johnny had a hard time looking away from.
He wanted to ask if this was good? okay? anything, but he felt tongue-tied and just bent his head again, rubbing his hand over Daken’s cock experimentally (he’d been commando under his jeans; it made Johnny’s mouth water). Daken grunted and Johnny touched him harder, fisting his dick, bending to lick the underside.
Daken’s hands carded through his hair before pulling, making Johnny gasp. Johnny closed his eyes, mouthing his way up his cock before taking a deep breath and sealing his mouth over the head, sucking hard.
It felt incredible to finally be doing this. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t had opportunities, but it always seemed too much of a burden to his family. Johnny was already the Fantastic Four member with a sex tape scandal; he didn’t need to add the sexuality factor on top of it. It felt like an open secret, though. At least with regard to Sue. Maybe Ben, too.
“Yeah, you like that.” Daken pulled his hair and thrust his hips up, making Johnny gag around him. “You’ll do anything I want, won’t you baby?”
Johnny pulled off, gasping. He met Daken’s burning hot gaze. “Anything.”
“So desperate,” Daken said, grinning a little meanly. Johnny shivered as he took in the hard planes of Daken’s muscles, the ink on his skin. “Get on your hands and knees.”
Johnny did, gasping when Daken pulled his briefs down, exposing his ass before pulling his cheeks apart and licking roughly.
Johnny cried out, head falling forward against the pillow as his hands tightened on the bedsheets. Daken’s tongue was broad and relentless. Johnny couldn’t help the moans spilling from his lips, his knees weak under the attention.
A slick finger joined Daken’s tongue, and Johnny shivered in anticipation of what was still to come.
When Daken covered his body, knocking Johnny’s knees further apart, Johnny had quick flashes of a different weight; not as broad but no less strong. He imagined soft brown hair tickling the side of his face, lips kissing his temple.
He shook out of his thoughts at the first press of Daken’s cock inside him, stretching Johnny wide and making him gasp in a mix of pain and pleasure. Daken took it easy until he was fully inside him and then set the pace hard and fast. Johnny pressed his forehead to the pillow, pushing back as Daken thrust in deep. It was all-consuming, but somewhere deep inside him felt hollow.
“You want this so bad, don’t you? My cock, me being everything that you need. Isn’t that right, Johnny?”
Johnny gasped, head snapping up as he curved his body back, fitting himself against Daken’s chest while Daken’s arm came around to hold him steady.
He felt complete; his earlier thought was a distant memory. “Yes, god, yes. Please.”
“That’s it. Beg me for it, baby.” Daken punctuated the words with a hard, deep thrust, knocking Johnny forward on his elbows, his head pillowed in his hands as he did just that, rambling, stuttering, begging for Daken to fuck him harder; deeper.
When it was over, the empty feeling came back, but this time it was from still wanting Daken inside him, over him, around him.
Daken tossed him a few tissues before flopping on his back, cracking his knuckles, and blowing out a breath.
Johnny smiled and shifted closer.
Daken looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
Johnny trailed a finger over the tattoos on Daken’s arms, tracing the thick black lines. “That was… really incredible.”
He moved to throw an arm over Daken, always one for cuddling afterward, needing that closeness. He’d just started to settle down on his chest when Daken rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and dislodging Johnny in the process.
“Hey, Torch. Don’t make this into something it’s not, ‘kay?”
Johnny felt like when water doused his flames, dropping his hand back to his side.
“Right. Yeah, ‘course.”
“I’m not a relationship guy.”
Johnny nodded, looking past Daken at an empty wall and wondering how gracefully he could do the walk of shame. At least he could fly out the window.
Then Daken moved into his space, slid a hand up Johnny’s bare thigh. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do this from time to time.” He titled his head, licking one long stripe up Johnny’s neck before whispering in his ear, “You want me, right?”
All the tension left his body as fast as it had come; he moaned as Daken’s hand slid up his inner thigh, skimming over his cock. “Yes.”
Daken covered his mouth in a hard kiss, their tongues tangling as Johnny gasped and raised his arms to wrap around Daken’s back.
Daken stared down at him as their lips parted. “Then let’s see how many times I can make you scream tonight.” Then he rolled them over, pulling Johnny down on top of him.
Johnny rode him for round two, learning what he liked while Daken still kept control of the pace, thrusting up hard. Johnny braced himself on his chest, feeling all that bulky muscle.
Once again, for the briefest of moments, he imagined a different physique beneath him. Then the thought was lost, like a needle in a haystack, and all that was left was “Daken, Daken, oh god, Daken,” as Johnny came on his dick.
_____________________________
After that, Johnny couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was a little pathetic, honestly. Johnny considered calling Daken, but he didn’t want to seem too desperate. Or, more desperate. They’d done it three times that night, the last time in the shower. Daken didn’t ask him to stay the night, so had Johnny left via the window.
He kept thinking about him all the way up to movie night.
Johnny had barely touched the movie-style popcorn, and he hadn’t been keeping up with Peter’s running commentary, so of course, Peter realized something was up.
“Alright, Torchy, spill. You look like someone ran over your dog, and I’m pretty sure Franklin left Puppy on Haven. Little messed up, by the way.”
“I’m fine, Pete.”
“Uh-huh. Pull the other one.”
Johnny sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions, his tight designer tee riding up a bit. Peter made a choking noise; he never could handle his popcorn. “It’s honestly no big deal. I’ll get over it; I always do.”
“Ohhh, lemme guess. Lady problems?”
Johnny snorted. “Not even close, buddy.”
“Guy problems?”
Johnny’s heart stopped beating. Peter said it flippantly, clearly trying to lighten the mood. Johnny looked at Pete and raised one eyebrow, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck.
Well. It was now or never (and Johnny was getting a little tired of never).
“Um, yeah. Kinda.”
There was way too long a pause. Johnny wasn’t sure his heart would ever beat again, at this point.
“Oh,” Peter finally croaked out. “That’s…” He cleared his throat. “That’s cool. I mean, not the problems, but the guy? That’s, that’s, you know, uh. Cool.”
Johnny raised his other eyebrow. “You sure about that, buddy?”
“Of course I’m sure. You know me, Mr. Sure. That’s what they call me.”
“Uh-huh.” Johnny drew out the second syllable, eyes never leaving Peter's face.
Peter went a little red. He licked his lips which in turn made Johnny’s own cheeks feel hot.
He’d been so focused on Daken lately — like his brain didn’t have room for anyone else — that he almost forgot what it felt like to look at Peter. That just one glance at those brown eyes and that strong jaw had him head over heels, just like he has been for years.
“Anyway.” Peter was still babbling. “It’s good to expand your horizons, try new things. At least that’s what people tell me.” He paused. “MJ, MJ tells me.”
Johnny hated how much he loved this guy.
“Me liking men isn’t new, Pete. Me acting on it is.”
“Oh.”
Johnny snorted. “Is that the word of the day?”
Peter rubbed at his forehead, hand covering his eyes. “You gotta — Johnny, you gotta give me a minute to process this.”
Guilt washed over him like a wave. He didn’t like stressing Peter out; not for real, anyway. Then, just as fast, he felt angry over feeling guilty.
Peter removed his hand from his face and was looking at Johnny again. Whatever he saw had him frowning. “No, hey, no. I’m not — hot stuff, you have to know I’m okay with this.”
“Are you?” Johnny challenged, heat still boiling in his blood.
Peter’s hand landed on his, over his thigh. Johnny felt the touch everywhere.
“I am. You’ve just shifted my worldview quite a bit but you gotta know — I absolutely don’t have an issue with you being…gay? Bisexual?”
Johnny laughed. “Bi, I guess. Although honestly, it’s never felt right with women.”
Johnny paused, biting his lip.
I just know I’ve always wanted love, marriage, a family, and as a kid I thought that had to be with a woman.
It was too much to get into right now, how marriage always seemed to be on his mind: find a girl, settle down, have what Sue and Reed have.
Even if it always felt forced and he wondered when the passion would come. Even with Alicia — when he thought it was really her, when he thought he’d loved her — there was always something missing.
Johnny sighed. “I’ve never really applied some kind of label to myself, Pete. I tend to just… fall for people. Usually the wrong people.”
Or unattainable, he added silently, looking at Peter’s face.
“Okay. Still, you said guy problems so you need me to kick his butt or something?”
Johnny laughed again. “Nah. I just need to get him out of my system.”
Out of my body, out of my brain, out of all the places he’s seemed to work himself into.
“Okay… well, good luck with that.” And then Peter threw some popcorn at him, and it was like the whole thing never happened.
____________________
Except getting Daken out of his system seemed like a non-possibility, so Johnny found himself finally giving in and calling. And then suddenly they were having phone sex, Daken out of town in some shitty motel (his words), Johnny on his bed with two fingers in his ass as he begged for Daken to fuck him.
He felt shameless in a way he never had before, desperate and needy for anything Daken could give him.
The calls turned into a regular thing. They always started with teasing and flirting and usually ended with Johnny sobbing his orgasm into his sheets, Daken’s filthy words in his ear.
“You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? You’re all mine.” The words sunk into Johnny, almost against his will. They felt cold, wrong.
I’m not. I’m only one person's, and he’ll never want me.
“All yours,” he responded, mouth unable to form any other words.
They saw each other the few times Daken was in town. Johnny didn’t ask where he’d been, and Daken didn't tell him. They fucked, and it was rough and filthy and everything Johnny needed, but not so sure he wanted.
He decided there was no need to sit around when Daken wasn’t there, so he went out to a club, tried to put some feeling into the lines he was feeding the woman at the bar.
Naturally, she’d turned out to be a gigantic bug that was set to unleash an Annihilation Wave. Sometimes, even this thing with Daken felt easier than trying to pick up. Except they weren’t a thing, and that had always been the thing.
Johnny could ignore it occasionally, like at the start of their phone calls when everything was warm and flirty, and Daken seemed genuinely interested in hearing from him.
Like tonight.
Johnny was wearing only his silk bathrobe and had lube and vibrator next to him. But he could build up to that.
“You set his underwear on fire when he was making a move on a woman. Did you really expect a different response?”
Johnny laughed. “Hey now, what would you have done?”
“What would I have done? Oh, Johnny.” Johnny’s dick twitched at the low rumble of Daken’s voice. “We’ll have to talk about that later,” he continued, the words a heated promise. Johnny licked his too dry lips.
“I have to go now. Someone’s trying to kill me.”
Johnny blinked as the call disconnected. “Daken? Daken!”
His only answer was a dial tone. He knew he didn’t fully have to worry, that Daken’s healing factor would most likely protect him. Still, he didn’t like it. Also, he was hard as a rock with no one to get him off.
Johnny sighed heavily. “Well, I suppose it’s just you and me tonight,” he told his dick.
He considered queuing up some gay porn, but he was too lazy. Instead, Johnny began playing highlights from his own personal collection beyond his eyes. He slicked up the vibrator and pushed it in slowly, his other hand slowly stroking his cock.
Johnny moaned softly as he turned the vibrator on, eyes falling shut as he replayed the last time with Daken. On the kitchen floor, Johnny's back against the linoleum as Daken fucked him into the ground, Johnny’s nails scratching down his back while he cried out for more.
The scene shifted to the time he took Daken flying, late at night, before they found a random rooftop and screwed up against the fire escape door.
Unconsciously, that rooftop gave way to a different rooftop and a different person, him and Spidey eating burgers together, feet dangling off the side of the building. That scene morphed into another, at the Usual Place. It was an old fantasy, and it unfolded before him. Peter in the suit, pushing Johnny up against one of the spikes in the crown; kissing him, sucking him, moving inside him.
Johnny twisted the vibrator inside him, gasping sharply. “Pete. Oh, fuck, Peter.”
He bit his lip hard, hating himself for doing this, despising how weak he was.
It didn’t take long before he came with a shout, back arching off the bed and thighs tensing.
He turned the vibrator off and slid it out slowly, his hand shaking, before flopping back and staring up at the ceiling. He was pining over two guys, one of whom was very possibly the love of his life.
“Something has to give.”
________________________
So in between all the ‘girl who turned into a bug and activated the portal to the Negative Zone’ stuff (which still had him feeling guilty) and battling Arcade at a toy store and Reed dimension-hopping, Johnny coped the way he normally coped: he blew off steam and headed to Miami for Spring Break, even though he was far too old for shit like that now.
He met Georgette when she found him loitering outside of a gay bar, unable to make himself go in.
“Need a wingman?”
He laughed and let her pull him inside. She was generically pretty, bi, and Johnny felt less guilty dancing with her than he would another guy. He tried not to think about why that was.
But by the end of the night — when it was looking like they were just going to go home together rather than with anyone else — boredom settled over Johnny. It was that old familiar going through the motions feeling, knowing he’ll have to fake how into it he is, how he’ll have to picture a guy just to get going.
(Yeah, he was probably gay,).
Johnny flashed on rooftops, pizza, a couch with popcorn kernels on it, a too-small TV.
He left the club with Georgette.
When he saw the text from Daken, he jerked as if he’d been caught doing something wrong, even though they weren’t anything more than glorified fuckbuddies. He tried not to think about how that guilt was stemming more from his recent thoughts of Peter rather than being out with Georgette.
The call me message sent a thrill through him. Daken rarely texted him first. It was usually Johnny who either called or sent something flirty (or naked) to get them going.
The text was from about twenty minutes ago. Johnny hadn’t felt the buzz in his pocket while dancing with Georgette.
And then everything was happening at once; the cops, the woman, the building. Johnny was yelling into his phone, fear and trepidation overwhelming him while Georgette stood there perplexed.
When he saw the evidence, all that remained, the guilt he experienced earlier came back tenfold. If Johnny had only been there, if he hadn’t been out trying to get laid, trying to get Daken out of his system, Daken might still be alive.
______________________
Johnny brooded. He lashed out. He lit up the night sky with his flame while Sue and Reed discussed him in their marital bed like he were a child and they were his parents.
Johnny hated feeling this way. Pent-up anger with nowhere to put it, pent-up guilt with no absolution. Grief.
He knew he shouldn’t do it; it was late, and Johnny was emotional and vulnerable. If there was one person who could make him even more so, it was Pete — but what was it that Sue had said? That Johnny didn’t have many friends?
He had Peter, though. And worse, he kind of needed him.
Peter showed up an hour later.
“You know, flame brain, at 2 a.m. you could suggest an easier meeting spot. I hear the Empire State Building is lovely this time of year.”
Johnny snorted, looking down at him as he webbed his way up to the crown. “This is our place, Pete, deal with it.”
“Says the guy not out making web rafts,” Peter muttered. He swung himself up the rest of the way, landing in front of Johnny. “What’s wrong? You okay?”
The way he shifted from grumbly to worried in a blink of an eye had Johnny holding back tears.
“I’m…” Johnny sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Not too great, honestly.”
Peter hummed. “The guy? Need me to kick his ass now?”
Johnny laughed humorously. “He’s dead.”
Peter pulled the mask off, eyes wide. “He’s dead? As in dead to you, or as a door—”
“Dead as in dead, Pete.” Johnny’s voice was hard, and he involuntarily let off some sparks.
Peter held up his hands. “Hey now, don’t take it out on me, firefly.” He stepped closer, laid one hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Johnny, I’m sorry.”
Johnny shook his head. “It was my fault. If I’d just been there when he needed me. We promised we’d help him, I promised I’d do anything—” Johnny broke off, feeling prickly and anxious all over.
“Hey.” Peter squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, calm down, hot stuff. Who’s we?”
“The Four. It was — it was Daken Akihiro.”
“Wolverine’s kid? From the Dark Avengers, Johnny, are you serious?”
Johnny glared at him. “He’s — he was trying to change. He came to us for help.”
Peter threw his hands up. “Oh, that’s rich. The guy tried to kill me! Threw off my depth perception with those freaky scent powers of his.”
“What? When, what are you talking about?”
What scent powers?
“When I was posing as Gargan to spy on Norman and his band of misfits. That guy was bad news, Johnny, I can’t believe you would even—”
“Don’t!” Johnny shouted, making Peter jump. He flamed on, blood boiling. “Don’t say it, Pete. You have no idea, you have no fucking clue what I — what. I can’t do this. I thought I could talk to you, but I obviously can’t.”
“Oh sure, it’s my fault your boyfriend attacked me and made you all think he was one of the good guys.”
“He’s not my boyfriend! And he’s dead, Pete, so what the hell does it matter now? And people can change.”
Johnny stared at him through his flames, breathing hard, and Peter stared right back.
“Johnny…” Peter said softly, almost pityingly; it made Johnny’s already blazing skin prickle. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“I gotta go, Pete.”
He took off and immediately regretted it. He was the one who called Peter out here. All Johnny wanted was to talk to him, see him. He still did, but the thought of Peter judging him or, worse, being disappointed in him was almost too much to bear.
Johnny flew around all night, left the state and just kept going. By the time he returned, it was morning. When Johnny entered the Baxter building, he knew something was wrong immediately. Someone had broken in, tried to kidnap Franklin. Johnny, still pent up with aggression, punched the guy immediately.
“You think you can come into our home? And hurt my nephew?”
“Wait… Johnny…”
Johnny froze. “What the…”
He knew that voice. But it couldn’t be…
“It’s not what you think.”
“No. It can’t be.”
“Miss me?” said Daken.
————————-
Johnny couldn’t believe his eyes. Daken, sitting on one of the med bay tables, half-naked because Johnny burned his uniform; something he was currently complaining about.
“It’s designer.” He held it up in front of his face. “What? Did you really think I’d be that easy to kill?”
Johnny exploded, all he’d been feeling for weeks spilling out. “Daken, you jerk! You let us think you were dead. Why? Why didn’t you just say something? Anything? I thought you trusted us.”
I thought you trusted me.
“Wait. I’m here now. Because you’re the only ones I can trust.”
Johnny listened to him try and explain, his jaw still tense. He shivered when Daken made eye contact with him, pinned by that stare. “I’ve made mistakes. I’m not a good person. I want to change that.”
Johnny thought about what he said to Peter earlier: people can change.
“It’s hard though,” Daken continued, his eyes never leaving Johnny’s. “When people look at you and only see one thing. When they judge you without giving you a chance. This is my opportunity to be someone different.”
Johnny felt Daken’s words down to his core. What is it you stand for? Reed had asked him recently. Johnny didn’t know. He was still trying to find himself, at almost thirty. Still fighting his public persona while simultaneously continuing to project it.
“I think you need some new clothes,” Sue said as tensions finally calmed, a silent consensus to trust Daken once more.
Daken hummed, looking at Johnny, a smirk on his lips. “Got anything in my size?”
Johnny’s eyes drifted to Daken’s chest, the whorls of ink running down his torso; the way his nipples were hard.
He swallowed. “Yeah. Follow me.”
Daken was on him the second the door to Johnny’s room was shut, pressing him up against it and fitting his near-naked body against Johnny’s. He held Johnny’s wrists over his head, biting at his lips. Johnny moaned, involuntarily.
“Mmm. So you did miss me,” Daken breathed out against his lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth while Johnny gasped. He hated how good this felt, how much he wanted it.
He was still feeling raw, angry. But he couldn’t seem to say no.
Daken pushed him down to sit on the bed and folded to his knees. He blew Johnny, mouth hot on his cock, sucking him down to the root. Johnny fisted the bedsheets in his hands, head falling back as he cried out. Thank god for soundproof walls.
It didn’t take long for him to come, panting as he watched Daken’s lips slide up and down his dick. Daken swallowed every drop before tucking him back in his pants as if it never happened. Then he stood in front of Johnny and pushed his head in the direction of his crotch.
“My turn now, baby.”
Johnny ran his palm over the bulge before he eased Daken’s briefs down. His mouth watered at the sight of his cock, body wanting this despite the million things going through his head.
Johnny wrapped his lips around the tip of his sliding his mouth down the shaft.
“That’s it,” Daken said, nails scratching at Johnny’s scalp as he snapped his hips forward. “Take it.”
Johnny only choked a little, already better at this from when they’d started. He breathed in Daken’s scent —
weird scent powers
— and worked his mouth harder, faster. Daken came with a low grunt and Johnny tried to swallow it all. Some spilled out onto his lips, down his chin. Daken caught his jaw between his fingers and tilted his head back, licking up his own come.
Johnny groaned as Daken licked at his lips before shoving his tongue inside. He brought his hands to Daken’s hips, kissing back hard and desperate.
That guy was bad news, Johnny, Peter’s voice rang in his ears.
The kiss broke just as Johnny’s veins felt like ice, remembering all the guilt and shame he’d been feeling over Daken’s death, thinking about how Peter reacted to Johnny pursuing something with him. Thinking about Daken letting him believe he was dead and not even bothering to call Johnny, shoot him a text, anything.
Daken looked down at him, eyes amused before he turned to Johnny’s closet. It should have felt intimate, watching Daken get dressed in his clothes. The Four symbol looked out of place on him.
“You’re being very quiet.”
Johnny’s cheeks went hot; he was usually so much more vocal in bed, it was true. Even when he had Daken’s dick in his mouth.
When Johnny didn’t respond, Daken turned around. “I’m sorry, Johnny. I really am.”
Johnny took a deep breath. “When I thought you died… I was sorry. More sorry than you know. I felt terrible I wasn’t there for you.”
Daken put his hands in the pockets of Johnny’s pants. On anyone else, it would look sheepish, shy. But Daken still seemed like Daken. Practically unreadable, mysterious. Seductive.
“Thank you.”
And then he turned his head, raised his shoulders, and did look shy. “I have another confession. I had another reason for coming here. I need help with something.”
Johnny sighed internally. “I figured as much.”
“I didn’t know how to ask.”
Yet you have no problem asking me to suck your dick.
“So ask. It’s not hard, even for a dead man.”
__________________
“Some night.”
“Yeah.” Johnny stood on the roof, staring out at the skyline. He wondered if Peter was out swinging tonight. Johnny had three missed calls from him and four new texts that he hadn’t yet looked at.
“Heard Daken saying goodbye to Reed and Suzie,” Ben continued. “Guess that means he’s leaving.”
Johnny clenched his hands into fists. “Uh-huh.”
And where does that leave me? Back to the way it was before? Random phone sex? Random hookups in between Daken being off god knows where defending himself against god knows who?
“Real short visit. Well. Got what he came for right?”
The words were pointed. Johnny’s back stiffened, and his fists clenched even tighter. Did Ben know? Was it obvious, how shameless Johnny was being? How desperate he was to feel wanted by Daken? Needed?
He didn’t have a chance to ask.
“Hey. Mind if I join you?”
Johnny’s jaw tightened as he listened to Daken antagonize and flirt with Ben. He really thought he’d left without saying goodbye.
Ben left the roof, a weird truce formed between them, and Daken came to stand beside Johnny near the ledge.
“So.”
“Yeah,” Johnny replied.
They looked out at the city skyline together.
“You come up here often?”
“It’s peaceful.”
Johnny felt Daken’s eyes on him. “Is peace hard to come by for you?”
Johnny stared blankly. No one had ever bothered to ask him something like that before. “Sometimes when I think too much. How about you?”
“I’m still looking for my version of peace.”
Johnny looked at him, took in those eyes, that near-permanent smirk. “You’ll find it.”
But not with me.
He turned back to the glittering lights of the buildings. “It’s a beautiful world,” Johnny sighed.
“Yes. I suppose it is.”
After a long pause of just watching the city, Daken spoke again. “Look, Johnny. I really don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Yeah.”
“And after all that’s happened, maybe we should just — cool off.”
Johnny snorted. “Human Torch here, man. Never cool.”
Daken bumped his shoulder and it almost felt playful. “You know what I mean.”
Johnny nodded, still not looking at him. “Like you said, it wasn’t a relationship.”
I needed it, though. I needed you, the way you made me feel.
“Yeah. Friends?”
Johnny saw Daken’s outstretched hand out of his periphery.
He turned to him and grasped it. “Friends.”
______________________________
Johnny found everyone still in the living room when he came inside. His hands were in his pockets, and he felt emotionally and physically exhausted.
“Is he gone?” asked Ben.
“Yup.”
“The man with the funny hair?”
“Yes, sweetie,” Sue said in reply to Franklin.
“I guess he’s not so bad,” added Ben.
Johnny had a feeling he was saying that for Johnny’s benefit alone.
“Johnny!” exclaimed Franklin, holding his arms out.
“C’mere, brat.”
He sat on the couch and Franklin immediately hugged him, like he knew Johnny needed it.
“Are you okay, Johnny?” asked Sue.
Alright, so apparently the entire family knew, despite Johnny still not having officially come out.
God, he really hoped they didn’t know about Pete, beyond Ben’s Spider-Man crush teasing that had been going on since Johnny was 17.
(The sad part was, he wasn’t wrong.)
“Good,” Johnny replied, hugging Franklin a little tighter. “Don’t worry about me, Sis.”
Johnny watched Ben play with Franklin, throwing him up in the air, and smiled.
He had his family. He needed to remember that was enough. Even though he was the weakest link. Even though he often felt he was dead weight.
They still loved him.
Johnny remembered his phone, the missed calls and texts.
He said goodnight and went to his room.
He kicked his shoes off and flopped down on his bed, trying not to think about the last time he was on it, a few hours earlier.
He pressed play on his voicemail.
“Hey uh, Johnny. It’s Peter. Call me, okay?”
“Look, I’m sorry for how we left things. I was being a jerk. You just… keep surprising me lately. Just call me back.”
“See, if I actually drank I could say I was drunk-dialing you, but I don’t and I’m not. You never take this long to respond so you better be okay.”
He flipped to the text messages.
called you.
Johnny snorted and read the next one.
I don’t care if you’re pissed at me as long as you answer
maybe I made a lot of that back there about me but trust me when I say I have a good reason. And I’m still sorry
I’ll be at the usual place at midnight
Johnny sighed and rubbed his forehead. It was 11:30 now.
He shouldn’t go; he was feeling too raw. But he could also never say no to Pete.
See you then. He had no idea if Pete was already over there or if he even had his phone, but he figured he might as well respond.
When Johnny arrived, Pete was already sitting on the torch with a box of pizza next to him and his mask half rolled up. Johnny was constantly surprised by his multitasking ability.
“Hey, hot stuff. It’s a little soggy, but it’s good.”
Johnny got his feet beneath him and flamed off before sitting down next to Pete. He took out a slice and warmed it up in his hand before holding it out.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Johnny preened a little and took a slice for himself, doing the same. “Good for something, right?”
Peter’s lips turned down in a frown. He pulled the mask off so Johnny could see his eyes, just as serious. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re good for a lot, matchstick. I dunno what’s going on with you, but you’re kind of worrying me.”
Sometimes I stand on that rooftop and think ‘what if’. Sometimes I wonder if it would be the only way to stop all this noise in my head.
He couldn’t tell Peter that, though.
“And I’m sorry,” Pete continued. “I’m sorry I made that about me back there. You were hurting and — look, I’m not going to understand it, Johnny. But apparently, that guy meant something to you and —”
“He’s alive.”
“What?”
“He’s alive. That’s where I’ve been all day. It’s — a long story. But yeah, he’s alive, and he just took off again a little while ago.”
Pete’s hand touched his shoulder; Johnny felt it like a shockwave. “You alright?”
Johnny snickered. “Been getting that a lot tonight. Yes, I’m alright. It wasn’t some big love affair, it was just sex. We’re cool.”
Peter choked on nothing, and Johnny shot him an unimpressed look. “Why yes, I do have sex, Pete. Maybe not as much as the public likes to think. Maybe not as much as you.”
Peter made a strangled noise and pressed his fingers into Johnny’s shoulder. “Whoa now, what’s with the defense, we ain’t playing hockey here.”
Johnny eased away from his touch. “Sorry. I — don’t you ever just… aren’t you ever just tired, webhead?”
“Every day of my life,” he replied with feeling.
Johnny sighed, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the sky.
It’s a beautiful world.
“Yeah.”
He glanced at Peter, heart seizing with how much he loved him, how perfect it always felt, just the two of them up here and the beautiful world.
Peter was looking back. And then he was looking at Johnny’s lips.
His stomach jolted.
“Johnny…”
Johnny found himself swaying forward. “Yeah?”
“I…I, uh,” Peter was closer now, their eyes locked. Johnny’s brain could barely process anything logical about the moment, but his body was already anticipatory.
And then Peter cleared his throat and sat back, snapping whatever moment there had been. “I really am sorry. I was a jerk earlier and not a very good friend to you.”
Friend. Right. Everyone wanted to be Johnny Storm’s friend tonight.
“It’s fine, Pete. I’m used to it.”
Peter groaned. “I’m being serious!”
Johnny leaned back on his hands again, mind still on what just happened. What if he’d closed the distance between them? What if he showed Peter his full hand, finally?
But, no. The Human Torch just wasn’t that brave.
“I know you are, Spidey. And we’re good. We’re always good.”
Even after you took your name and your face away from me. Even after you were going to leave me all alone, thinking you were just another masked hero, that we were friends but without a deeper connection.
“Good. I — I always want us to be good, that’s the important thing.”
“Yeah,” Johnny sighed inwardly. “So now that I know he’s alive, did you kick Daken’s ass in that fight or what?”
Peter laughed. “Got him by the end, yeah. Then all hell broke loose but yeah, round one to Spidey. You just say the word if there needs to be a round two.”
Johnny laughed dully. “I’ll do that, tough guy.”
They fell quiet again, lazily eating their pizza. Silence always felt odd in the space between them.
“I gotta ask, though. Why him?”
Johnny looked at him, and Peter continued, one hand up. “I’m not judging! I’m just — curious. I mean, I know it can’t be the mohawk, that thing is hideous. You into the whole bad boy thing?”
“Asks Black Cat’s ex.”
“…Touché.”
Johnny laughed for real then, for the first time in what felt like forever, head thrown back and a few sparks coming off him.
When he looked back, Peter was staring, mouth slightly open.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Peter shook his head. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
Johnny rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t the bad boy thing. I just — I felt seen by him. Wanted. Desired.”
Peter coughed again, and Johnny knocked his foot against his. “Stop being such a prude when I know you’re not.”
“I’m not! But, I mean, you and I never really talk about this kind of stuff. Sexual, uh, stuff.”
Johnny’s cheeks went hot. They really didn’t. They talked about general relationship and love life drama (Johnny always dying inside a little at it) but they weren’t the kind of guy friends who traded tales of sexual conquests. Johnny would either explode from lust or jealousy if that were the case.
“Don’t worry, Pete, I’m not about to give you the gay sex play-by-play.”
Peter let out a noise of outrage. “Do you still think I’ve got a problem with the guy thing? Newsflash, hot stuff: been there, done that, didn’t get a T-shirt.”
Johnny’s eyes widened. “What?”
“College was an interesting time.”
Johnny’s mouth was hanging open. “Y-you never told me!”
“You never asked! And hey, you never told me either.”
“There wasn’t anything to tell. I mean, theoretically, there was but part of me was always waiting to do something about it to know for sure.”
“And do you? Know for sure?”
Johnny laughed, voice a little throaty as he responded. “Oh, you have no idea how much.”
He watched in fascination as Peter’s cheeks went red. “Well, uh. Good.”
Johnny was still trying to process Peter not being totally straight; the moment from earlier stuck out like a sore thumb now. Had Peter been about to kiss him? If Johnny leaned in now, would he be into it?
The chance of being wrong, of ruining this, made him push the thought away. Just because Peter messed around with guys in college doesn’t mean he wanted Johnny Storm now.
“I think I’m going to tell my family.”
“Yeah?”
Johnny nodded. “I think they pretty much all know, even the kids.”
“Well the kids are smarter than most of you, so that makes sense.” Peter’s hand landed on his shoulder again. “And they love you. You don’t have to hide from them.”
I hide from them — from everyone — every day, Pete.
The words stuck in his throat. “Yeah. Thanks, Spidey.”
“You’re welcome, Torchy.”
They grinned at each other, and even as Johnny’s heart skipped a beat, he had no regrets.
This was enough. He could live with it, at the risk of living with less.
_______________________
Interlude
Things had been going pretty okay. Johnny and Peter fell back into their regular movie nights, and he barely thought about Daken. Sue and Reed were off-world dealing with various matters, and Johnny was left in charge while Ben got to be his old self for a week. Johnny really enjoyed the way that the Baxter Building was so full of kids now.
(“Do you want kids, Johnny?”
“More than anything,” he’d replied, hating that the fantasy came with shaggy brown hair and mornings around the breakfast table, him and Pete and two perfect kids.)
He had fun giving Ben a full day of normalcy, and seeing Peter at poker night, laughing and joking around.
And then the stuff with the Negative Zone portal came back to haunt him, and everything went to shit.
_________________
Act II
And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues strong
It's always darkest before the dawn
“When you see Reed, tell him this is where I made my stand.”
Johnny thought about those words a lot in the Zone. He thought about Ben and the kids and how they saw him last.
He thought about his sister and Reed — who he never got to see one last time — and if the world was mourning The Human Torch.
Most of all, he thought about Peter. Usually right before the axe fell, and afterward when he was on the table with the bugs sewing him up.
Peter, who would always make fun of Johnny’s stupidly perfect hair and designer clothes.
If only he could see him now.
It was thoughts of Peter that got him through a lot of it. Peter would keep fighting. He wouldn’t give up, even if the outcome was living only to die another day.
Even if living meant hurting others, something Johnny had tried so hard not to do, his entire life.
So fighting was what Johnny did for two years — a lot of that time spent dead whenever he lost — even with the possibility of no escape.
And when the opportunity arose to stop the gate from being opened, to organize a revolt and steal the cosmic control rod, Johnny took it.
So it was almost fitting that the very first person he saw on the other side was Peter.
“My god.”
“Pete… what the heck are you wearing?”
“Johnny?”
“Yeah…and seriously, what are you wearing?” Johnny had to focus on the awful outfit otherwise he might just throw himself at Peter and never let go.
“Reed and the kids came up with new uniforms.”
“Well, they’re hideous.”
“You’re dead. You died.”
“More than once. Still better looking than you are.”
Peter paused, finger still pointed at Johnny. “…Oh my god.”
“It’s really me, Pete.”
Turned out Johnny didn’t have to throw himself at Peter; Peter did it for them.
“You’re alive!” he exclaimed as he wrapped his arms tight around Johnny and lifted him out of the air.
Peter’s strong arms embracing him, after so long without any contact that wasn’t violent, felt like fire running through his veins. Johnny didn’t want him to let him go, but he was also aware that they had an audience in the form of the Light Brigade and a very nasty prisoner.
“Okay, okay… put me down.”
They looked at each other, and Johnny wished he could see Peter’s eyes.
“So… nice fireworks.”
“Yeah,” Peter replied. “World ended. Kree invasion. You know the drill.”
Damn, but it was good to hear that dry, sarcastic voice again.
“I certainly do. Here… hold my Annihilus. There’s something I need to do.”
After that it was a whirlwind, Johnny feeling like a true leader for the first time in his life as he controlled the Annihilation Wave. Johnny felt almost invincible with his family and Peter — Peter who was family — at his side.
He’d had a lot of time to think about the message he’d left Peter. How he’d wanted to say so much more. He had no idea if Peter had taken his they — we all love you the way Johnny had truly meant it. Part of him hoped they’d never speak of it.
They hadn’t really had time to talk yet. Afterward, when everyone was sitting amongst the rubble — the battle done — they kept sneaking looks at one another. Even through the new stupid mask, Johnny had felt the weight of that stare.
When it was time to finally get some rest, Johnny wasn't sure what he wanted to do. His room was trashed, along with most of Baxter. The thought of going to a hotel felt hollow. He did have the ship, like he’d told Ben, but then Peter had said, “you could just crash with me for the night.”
So Johnny flew them to Queens, and now they were alone inside Peter’s apartment.
“I don't, uh, exactly have a spare room here.”
Johnny shrugged. “I’ll take the couch.”
Peter nodded, scratching at the back of his neck, his hair a mess from just having taken off the mask. Johnny realized with a start that he hadn’t seen Peter’s face yet. Peter must’ve noticed at the same time because their eyes caught and held.
“Heya, Johnny.”
Moisture gathered around his eyes. “Heya, Pete.”
Peter waved his hands. “Can you just get over here already?”
Johnny was moving before he’d finished talking, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck and feeling his strong arms come around his waist. He thought about the way Peter lifted him like he weighed nothing and shivered.
“I missed you,” Peter mumbled against Johnny’s neck. He smelled like web fluid and New York at night. Johnny was so in love with him.
“‘Missed you, too, webhead.”
“We don’t have to talk about it.” For a second, Johnny thought he meant his holo will. “The Negative Zone.”
Johnny pressed his forehead to Peter’s shoulder. “Good.”
Peter laughed weakly, and it sounded wet.
After that, Johnny passed out and slept most of the next day too. But his exhaustion didn’t keep the nightmares at bay.
____________________________
Three days after his “return” — and the first day Johnny had tried on the new suit — the family threw him a party. Peter was there, being adorable hanging upside down and already stuffing a sandwich into his mouth. There was even a banner.
Welcome back, Johnny.
Like he’d been away on a trip. Like he hadn’t been dead, tortured, killed, maimed.
Johnny breathed through his nose as Sue said, “This is all for you, little brother! What are you waiting for, speech!”
“C’mon, uncle Johnny, speech! Speech!” The kids echoed.
So Johnny pasted on a smile and they didn’t have to do this; that it all looked amazing, but then again anything would after the food he’d been eating.
It had the intended effect, made people laugh, but Peter — still in the FF suit — gave him an assessing look that Johnny could see even through the mask.
“What really matters is that you’re all here with—”
Until he noticed Ben wasn’t. “One sec.”
He stepped through Ben’s half-open door.
“Hey big guy, what you doing? Party’s out there.”
“Nah, don’t think so. You go on and enjoy yer little shindig without me.”
Johnny sighed and came up behind Ben. He poked him playfully, putting some feeling into it.
“Nope, that ain’t happening. Now don’t go telling Reed or Spidey I said this, but you’re the closest thing I’ve got in the world to a brother, and it wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there.”
“Some brother,” Ben scoffed. “Don’t ya get it, kid? I’m the reason we almost lost you forever. Me! Reed and the others made that special treatment that could turn me into plain ol’ Ben Grimm and I took it without thinkin’.”
Johnny’s chest burned. He hadn’t even had time to consider that Ben might blame himself.
“If I’d been The Thing that day I could’ve saved you, Johnny. You went through livin’ hell all because I’m a vain, dumb, idiot who only cares about what he looks like on the outside.”
Johnny never once blamed him, never once regretted his actions of that day, or that he was able to give Ben that time in his human form, that night with Alicia.
“Ben Grimm,” Johnny said, hugging him from behind. “You are an idiot. Don’t you know I would go through it all again, twice, if it meant you could feel human again?”
It was the truth. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his family.
Reed and Sue were at the door when they both turned around, and Peter caught him by the sandwiches when he came out to the table.
He didn’t say anything, just bumped against Johnny with his elbow.
Johnny was glad he didn’t ask if he was okay; he couldn’t handle another lie sticking in his throat.
Aside from that day, he’d barely seen Peter that week. There was tons of cleanup to do, the help with Reed’s reorg of the Baxter Building for the Future Foundation and things to figure out with his ship and crew, and the Negative Zone portal.
Johnny slept in the ship and woke up in the middle of each night, dreaming of worms and an axe falling. Peter came by on and off to help, and Johnny soaked up the heat of his presence like a warm blanket.
“So, will you stay up here or in the Baxter Building?” Pete asked when they were all standing around looking out at the space station that had just been finished.
“I don’t know. Maybe neither. I kind of feel like I should do something different. You ever get that?”
Something has to give, Johnny thought, words from a lifetime ago.
Peter scoffed. “I swear, I don’t know how you deal with sometimes. Do what I do, run home to your apartment.”
Johnny thought about how safe he’d felt, sleeping on Peter’s couch, despite the nightmares. How he didn’t have to worry about a loss of control — something that he was far too used to now, having spent so long in the Zone where restraint was not a part of life — because Peter’s danger sense would protect them both.
“Okay, sure. That might be what I need.”
“Huh?”
“Sure, I’d be happy to move in. It’ll be nice. Fun. Fun and nice.”
“Wuuuuhh…”
Johnny laughed and put his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Exactly! Roommates. That’s pretty cool, right?” As if the move wasn’t his most masochistic one yet.
“I guess... I still only have the couch.”
“S’okay, I can slum it for a while.”
Peter groaned but he also leaned in a little closer to him and it was nice. And maybe it would be fun.
He felt bad about not wanting to be around his family right now after so long without them. But he needed some space to figure out who he was now.
______________________
Peter was giving him space, which was the opposite of what Johnny wanted from him. When they did see each other, he walked around on eggshells. It made Johnny angry. He knew everything had changed; he didn’t want everything to include Peter too. But it was like Peter was seeing through his facade, the happy-go-lucky attitude he’d been trying to project all the while dreaming every night about being cut open and waking up with silent gasps and his hands scrambling for his chest.
Johnny knew he was different; he felt different. Life and death didn’t seem to have much of a meaning anymore. Only a few months had passed for everyone else, but for Johnny, it might as well have been a lifetime. He wasn’t sure what living felt like anymore.
So he faked it. He put on a smile and he laughed at Peter’s awkward jokes and he reminded himself this was enough.
The thing was: being dead (and dead, and dead again) put certain things into perspective. In his former life, Johnny might not have cooked breakfast for Peter wearing nothing but his tiny black briefs and an apron. But if you couldn’t attempt some casual seduction on your best friend after losing two years of your life to another dimension, when could you?
Peter seemed flustered, but Johnny didn’t know if that was just because of his big presentation or Johnny’s thick thighs. He hoped on it being the latter.
It was three weeks into their roommate stint, and Johnny decided what they needed was a party.
“You know, we’d make him jealous if we danced together,” Mary Jane said while they sat on the couch, shoved close together on account of some of the Light Brigade. Apparently, staring at Peter for the last 20 minutes fell under Johnny “not being subtle.”
Johnny laughed. “Of me, maybe.”
“You sell yourself short, Johnny Storm. That guy was a mess when you were gone.”
Johnny’s heart tripped in his chest. “Yeah?”
“He couldn’t even go to your funeral. Did he tell you that?”
Johnny shook his head, mouth suddenly dry.
Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “Boys. You never actually talk.” She rested her hand over his. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren't watching. It’s not as impossible as you might think.”
“MJ…”
“Nope. Dancing now.”
Johnny laughed and let her pull him up. And so they danced, and it was good. Peter definitely narrowed his eyes at them, and Johnny and MJ widened theirs when Peter got dipped and kissed by Els.
It was a good night and the first that Johnny truly felt alive again.
The next morning he entertained himself by watching Peter deal with a hangover after a rare bout of drinking and pretending to flirt with MJ on the phone.
Then he spent most of the day at the Baxter Building, trying to get back into the swing of things. Johnny donned the uniform once more, despite how much he hated it; it seemed like it was here to stay, at least for a little while.
He heard voices when he entered the lab, saw Daken with his hand on Reed’s face. His stomach twisted.
“Daken…”
They both turned to look at him. Daken looked… older, frail.
Johnny’s death and subsequent resurrection had been highly publicized. He’d been back for a month now, and Daken hadn’t even attempted to reach out.
Daken walked by Johnny without a word.
“Hey! I thought you’d be pleased to…”
“Real people stay dead when they die, Johnny.”
The words were like ice in his veins.
“You standing here is simply… an insult.”
Johnny watched, lips pressed tight together in a frown, his eyebrows and shoulders drawn as Daken walked out of the lab.
Reed came up behind him, a hand landing on his shoulder. “Don’t take it to heart, son. His healing factor has failed him, and he’s dying — for real this time.”
Johnny was stiff as a board, barely processing the words. He thought about dying again and again in the arena, about how every resurrection found him waking up screaming. He thought about how real it all was, yet Daken insinuating Johnny wasn’t.
“Johnny?”
He walked out of the lab without responding, heading for his old (new) room. He threw himself on the bed and tried to breathe, deep inhales and loud exhales, over and over.
He looked at the clock. Pete wouldn’t be home for a few hours still, and Johnny didn’t want to move right now, anyway. He curled up on his side, hoping he’d nap without dreaming.
He was awoken by a loud boom.
He immediately flamed on and took off down the halls.
“It’s a bomb!” cried Sue. “It hit the lower floors.”
Chaos ensued after, with people on the ground trying to blame them while Johnny, already feeling raw, yelled that they were trying to help.
Johnny found out from Reed that it was Daken — Daken, who had come into the Baxter Building and planted a bomb, as well as multiple bombs elsewhere. Daken, who had hurt innocent people without remorse. Johnny felt a fury like never before, betrayal sitting hard in his chest.
When he spotted his signal, he took off like a flash.
“I’ve got the signal, Reed. Two blocks away.”
“Johnny, wait for backup.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’ve still got the blood of those people outside the Baxter Building on my uniform, Reed. He was supposed to be my friend. I trusted him.”
“Hey, buddy!” Johnny yelled when he spotted him. “You get one warning! And you don’t deserve that!” He didn’t even know why he was bothering with a warning, why the urge to protect Daken was still strong, despite his betrayal. “I don’t want to do this but I will stop you if I have to!”
But Daken just kept running. “I mean it, Daken! Stop! This is your last chance!”
Anger like he’d never felt before clawed through his veins as Daken continued to ignore him. As if Johnny were inconsequential, a non-threat.
A billion to one. You think I’m afraid of that? You think I’m afraid of that!?
Johnny felt a fury that he hadn’t experienced since the Negative Zone.
“Damn you for this, Daken. For all of this. Hope your healing factor’s working again.”
And then Johnny let go, all that careful control he’d been trying to maintain since back from the Negative Zone gone in an instant as his world narrowed down to eliminating the threat at all costs.
He watched as Daken roared in pain, body ablaze.
“Reed, I've got him. You’re safe to concentrate on defusing those bombs. Daken’s… taken care of.”
He flew in closer. A sense of finality washed over him, as he watched Daken curl up on the ground. A sense of relief.
“It’s over.”
“Bring him to the Baxter Building, Johnny. I want to see if I can reverse—”
But Johnny had landed and was no longer listening to Reed as he looked at Daken.
“Oh. Oh my god. It’s not Daken, it’s Wolverine. He’s got some kind of flashing bullet in his head. That must’ve been the signal we were tracking.”
Johnny burst into action, anger and frustration heavy in his stomach. “Reed, he’s playing us! Daken’s still out there!”
“Yes, Johnny, I know,” came Reed’s calm voice in his ear. Too calm.
“Oh, no,” Johnny whispered, flying faster than he ever had before.
“Johnny?” A new voice. “I just got done with my day job; pick up one of my FF comms and am hearing a lot of action.”
“It’s Daken, Spidey. He’s got Reed, Empire State Building.”
“I’m on my way, Torch.”
Reed was still on the comms and, as Johnny flew, he could hear every word.
“Why, Daken? We took you in, trusted you. Treated you like…”
And then there was Daken’s voice, too, further away but still distinct. “Please don’t say the ‘F’ word.”
Johnny listened to Daken’s analysis of family, of relationships. Listened to him analyze Reed, heard him abstractly compare Johnny to an ‘unwanted complication.’
“Every human interaction is a transaction. We find people who will give us what we need and we cement long-term ties with them as a result.”
The words chilled him to his core, the final confirmation that everything Daken ever said to him, did to him, made him feel, was all a means to an end. A long con, targeting Johnny because he was weak and easily manipulated. A personal plaything. Something to entertain himself with whenever he needed something from the Four.
And even through all that, Reed was still trying to do the human thing, still trying to save him.
And then things escalated further, Daken attacking Reed, goading him into a fight.
Johnny listened in horror as Daken revealed that all the bombs were decoys to distract everyone, that Daken drugged Reed with the same stuff he must have drugged Wolverine with.
“W..why. Why me?” He heard Reed ask, voice groggy.
“Amid all the noise you want the ultimate truth? I never really liked you.”
Reed cried out, his voice echoing now because Johnny was here, and he saw it. He saw Daken push Reed off the roof.
Johnny caught him, flaming off his arms and the front of his body.
He was dimly aware of Peter swinging into view, headed straight toward Daken.
“Kick his ass, Spidey,” he said to himself before he realized Peter was on the comms.
“Oh, I’m gonna.”
It struck him that Peter probably heard everything Daken said. Shame and embarrassment washed over Johnny, but he couldn’t think about that now.
He dimly heard Peter in his ear, cracking wise about sartorial choices before Johnny switched off the comm. He flew Reed toward the Baxter building and passed Ben in the fantasticar on the way there, Iron Man and Kitty Pride on his heels.
He called out for Sue when he arrived, and they both got Reed into the lab, Johnny catching her up.
“We need to induce vomiting.”
Johnny stood by, did as Sue instructed. He tuned his comm into Ben’s channel just in time to hear Daken’s voice once more.
“You know, out of all that saccharine, horrible, post-nuclear family, you were the one I hated spending time with the most, you know. At least the others were smart or attractive.”
The or struck him deep. All he’d been to Daken was another pretty face, beauty that was nothing but skin-deep.
Johnny turned back to Reed, who’d begun coughing roughly and expelling the pills.
“Thank you, Johnny, for being there, and getting me here.” He said, hand on Johnny’s shoulder.
An unwanted complication.
Johnny shook himself. “Yeah. But this isn’t over. He’s still out there. I think Ben just lost him.”
Reed nodded, adjusting the comm channel in his ear. “Tony, what’s your location?”
“Reed, good to hear your voice. He’s headed toward Times Square.”
“We’ll meet you all there.”
Johnny tapped his ear again. “You good, Spidey?”
“I’m flaming — no pun intended — mad, matchstick, but I’m good.”
Johnny winced, hoping more than anything that Pete hadn’t been listening in on Ben’s comm.
Johnny saw Peter when he arrived, standing next to Ben, ready for action. Daken emerged, a lone figure in the now-empty Times Square. A line of superheroes watched on one side, poised, while the cops had their guns trained on him.
A shot rang out and Daken went down. Johnny flamed off and watched the scene; Peter was dangling from a web just ahead of him and his presence alone centered Johnny.
And then Logan stepped forward and Johnny watched the scene play out, before all hell broke loose again, an explosion rocking them all.
“He planned this. Led us to this spot,” Reed said to Cap as the dust was settling.
Logan took off with Thor while Daken was nowhere to be found.
“Was he the explosion?” Johnny asked Cap.
“Logan seems to think so.”
Johnny nodded, numbly. His mind reeled, once again left with more questions than answers.
“Johnny?” Peter.
Johnny turned to look at him; it was odd to see him back in the old costume, despite how much the white and black one had looked out of place on him. It reminded Johnny of simpler times; team-ups against Mobius or the Speed Demon.
“I gotta—” he waved to the sky. “I’ll see you at home,” he said before he took off.
Home.
He lit up the sky, thinking of that word. How it didn’t necessarily mean Peter’s tiny apartment in Queens, but Peter himself.
Johnny couldn’t go back to the Baxter Building right now, despite wanting to check on everyone, make sure the kids were okay, and assess the damage. He couldn’t face Reed or Ben. Not with them knowing so acutely the way Daken had played him. Not with Daken’s words to Reed still running through his brain, preying on his worst fears and insecurities.
He knew, deep down, that Reed didn’t simply tolerate him. He knew that he loved him. But at the same time, it was easy to feel like baggage. Tagging along on a space trip when he was sixteen just because Sue was, essentially, his guardian and Johnny wouldn’t let her leave him behind. Becoming Reed’s responsibility after the crash.
Not for the first time, Johnny wondered what things would’ve been like if he were never the Human Torch. If Johnny had his own life, independent of his family, and Reed and Ben had never been saddled with him.
When Johnny finally returned to Peter’s apartment, he found him still in the suit, standing in front of his open fridge like it was a problem to solve and looking like he’d only just got back himself.
His mask was off, his hair sticking up at all ends. Johnny desperately wanted to run his hands through it. He thought back to this morning and how uncomplicated it all had felt, Peter lying upside on his couch while Johnny tried to make him jealous.
And then Daken (once again Daken) went and blew everything up in his face.
Peter closed the fridge, an apple in his hand. “You burn off all that steam? Get it out of your system?”
Johnny snorted. “Hardly.”
Peter threw the apple up in the air and caught it. “This is why you gotta use my method, web some muggers in the face. Soothes the soul.”
“I’ll steal one of your web-shooters and do that next time.”
“Ha, ha.” Peter threw the apple up again, and Johnny noticed just then that his other hand was curled in a fist, and his body was radiating tension.
“Looks like you need to blow off some steam yourself, Spidey.”
Peter laughed, and it sounded hollow. “Yeah. Honestly, Johnny, I wish that guy wasn’t dead just so I could have the pleasure of beating him to a pulp.”
Johnny’s eyes went wide. He sometimes forgot about this side of Peter, the part that had a hotter temper than even Johnny himself.
“I heard him,” Peter continued before Johnny could respond. “I heard the crap he said to Reed.”
“Right,” Johnny said, leaning back against the cabinets even as his back stiffened. “Of course you did.”
Peter came to stand in front of him, knocked his foot against Johnny’s. “I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry that he—”
“I can’t talk about this,” Johnny blurted. “I can’t talk about this with you.”
Peter frowned. “Gee, and here I thought we were friends.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the uneaten apple now gone.
Johnny glared at him. “You think this is easy for me, Pete? You, of all people, hearing all that? You already think I’m dumb, now you get to see me pathetic too. Once again used and manipulated just like when I married a Skrull. Or hell, even Psionics, but at least I ended that one before she tried to kill me.”
“Whoa, hey. I might toss out some dumb blond jokes here and there, but that’s what we do. I call you stupid and make fun of your terribly expensive clothes, you insult my looks and the fact that I live in Queens; rinse, repeat.”
Johnny felt sparks come off him, the rush of noise in his head nearly drowning Peter out.
“Hey.” Peter stepped in close, one hand clasping his shoulder. “You know I would never blame you for that stuff. It wasn’t your fault, Johnny. It could happen to anyone.”
Johnny lifted his head, looking at him through his eyelashes. “But it happened to me, Pete. And it keeps happening to me, because I’m — because I’m a weak link, an easy target. Because I believe what people think of me. Because I’m f-fake.”
“Hey, now.” Peter’s hand landed on his other shoulder, shaking him a little. “Stop shit-talking my best friend, that’s my job.”
Johnny, horrified, felt tears gather around his eyes. “I’m — not real. I died, Pete.”
Peter frowned. “Yeah, hot stuff, I know. Don’t really like being reminded, actually.”
He was a mess when you were gone, came Mary Jane’s voice.
Johnny laughed wetly. “Yeah, well, I can’t do anything but remember. More than once, Pete, like I told you when I got back.”
Peter’s hands tightened on his shoulders, silent encouragement.
“I died again and again. We fought in the arena; even when you win you lose. When the axe falls, it’s the worst pain you could imagine. Until the bugs come, then it’s even worse than that. They sew you up, the bugs. They heal you so you can live, just to die again.”
“God, Johnny…”
Johnny sniffled, closing his eyes. “And then tonight, before it all. Daken, when he came to Baxter — I thought he’d be happy to see me. We left off as friends. But he looked past me, told me real people stay dead, that my being alive was an, an insult.”
Peter’s hands tightened more, almost to the point of pain. “I’d fucking kill him, I swear I would.”
Johnny looked at him, pulse jumping at the intensity in his voice. “You wouldn’t. You’re too good. But I killed people, Pete. Didn’t matter if they lived again, I killed people, I burned them, I—”
“Hey.” Peter pulled him into a hug, Johnny’s hands wrapping around his back. “Hey, you did what you had to. And you survived, Johnny. You defeated Annilihus, liberated the Light Brigade. That’s who you are. You’re a survivor, a hero.”
“And a victim,” he mumbled bitterly against Peter’s neck.
Peter pulled back, hand twisted in the back of Johnny’s hair. “That doesn’t make you less of a person, and it doesn’t make you weak. The people who did that to you are the scum, Johnny. That’s why we’re called heroes, and they’re called villains.”
Johnny laughed, squeezing Peter’s hips. “Look who’s talking, masked menace.”
“I thought you liked the bad boys,” Peter teased, wiping away a tear from beneath Johnny’s eyes.
Johnny frowned at the reminder of Daken, of all the things he let him do to him, ages ago. Of the betrayal that was still as raw as an open wound.
“Sorry,” Peter said, bringing his forehead to rest against Johnny’s. “Insensitive attempt at flirting. I really wish I could punch him a few more times, let me tell you.”
That whole sentence was way too much for Johnny to process, especially with Peter this close.
“Flirting?” Johnny asked, almost inaudible.
Peter moved back so they could lock eyes. “Well, yeah.” Peter scratched at the back of his neck. “Look, I hate that he hurt you, but I also hate that he ever touched you to begin with.”
“You do?” Johnny whispered.
Peter’s hand curled around the back of Johnny’s neck. “Hot stuff, you have no idea how much.”
Johnny had no idea who moved first. He moaned even before their lips met, a collision of teeth and tongues, the culmination of years of pent-up longing.
Peter’s hand curled in his hair as he pressed Johnny against the counter, the sounds of their breathing harsh in the otherwise silence. Johnny moaned again as Peter sucked on his tongue while his hands skated up and down Peter’s back.
“Drove me crazy,” Peter whispered as he broke away to kiss Johnny’s jaw, down his neck. “Him getting to have you when no other guy had. Was so damn jealous.”
Johnny curled his fingers in the suit, Peter’s admission settling over him, the knowledge that he’d wanted him just as bad. His head fell back as Peter kissed down his throat, and he let out his own admission. “I wanted it to be you.”
“Johnny,” Peter groaned against his neck. And then the stuff on the counter was clattering to the floor, as the result of Peter’s arm, and Johnny was easily lifted onto it as if he weighed nothing.
An involuntary whimper escaped his lips as he locked his legs around Peter, pulling him in to step between his parted thighs as they kissed again, desperate and hard.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Peter groaned against Johnny’s mouth, even as he dragged his palms up Johnny’s thighs. Johnny nipped at his bottom lip while Peter continued, gasping, “You’re going through a lot and I don’t — don’t wanna take advantage of you.”
“You couldn’t,” Johnny whispered, tightening his legs around him and letting Peter feel how hard he was already. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Me too,” Peter whispered back in between kisses, grinding his hips against Johnny. “Wanted to kiss you that night at the usual place. And when I saw you on the other side of the portal. And a million other times.”
Johnny gasped. He fisted one hand in the back of Peter’s hair, crying out at the friction of his hips and the hot mouth on his neck, sucking hard though to bruise. “I wish you had.”
“Thought I lost you before I could tell you,” Peter mumbled against his neck. “And then I watched the holo disc.”
Johnny’s fingers squeezed Peter’s sides, his breath caught in his throat.
“I love you too, Johnny,” Peter whispered into his skin.
Johnny’s breathing hitched, his eyes wet again. He clutched at Peter’s back again, the suit familiar and comforting beneath his palms. “Say that again.”
“I love you.” Peter kissed his way up his neck, slow and sensual, punctuating each word with the open-mouthed press of his lips. “Ridiculously, stupidly in love with you, hot stuff.”
Johnny refused to cry, despite how much he wanted to. He was overwhelmed with feelings, love, of finally hearing those words and knowing in his core that they were the truth. That this was real.
“Me too, Pete,” Johnny whispered as their mouths met again. “Love you, too.”
Then they were kissing hard once more.
“Can’t believe you gave me your family,” Peter gasped out in between kisses.
“Not my fault you took that seriously,” Johnny teased, biting at the corner of Peter’s mouth. “And you really can’t rock a uniform like I can.”
“Enough with the uniforms,” Peter growled and dragged his hands down Johnny’s back, under his thighs. “I want to get you out of yours.”
Johnny gasped when Peter hooked his hands and lifted him off the counter, carrying Johnny across the room while kissing him the entire time.
They only made it as far as the couch, Peter laying Johnny out on it and following suit, covering him with his body.
Johnny laughed as Peter kissed down his neck again. “What’s with the lack of hospitality? All that and I still don’t get an invite to your bedroom?”
Peter sat back on his haunches, dragging his hands down Johnny’s uniform. “Gotta show you what I’ve fantasized about doing to you on this couch every night you’ve been here.” Johnny shivered at the low growl of Peter’s voice. “Then we’ll go to my room.”
Johnny groaned as Peter peeled him out of his suit, losing the top part of his own in the process.
“Want to make it so good for you,” Peter whispered as he kissed down Johnny’s stomach. He pulled Johnny’s dick out of briefs, stroking him from base to tip. He scooted further down Johnny’s thighs before bending to take him in his mouth.
Johnny moaned, hands flying to Peter’s hair. Peter sucked him down, mouth hot and tongue just as clever as when he was cracking wise.
“Pete. Peter.” Johnny bit his lip, fingers tightening in Peter’s hair. Peter sucked him harder, his hands on Johnny’s thighs, tracing up them before pressing him down into the cushions. Johnny groaned at the move, tried to lift up a little just to see if he could, and thrilled when Peter’s strength held him in place. He groaned louder, head falling back as Peter’s hand cradled his balls, squeezing gently.
Johnny threw his hand over his eyes, gasping out Peter’s name the closer he got. “I’m… Spidey, I’m gonna come.”
Peter just sucked him even harder. Johnny cried out, watching Peter’s lips slide over his cock as he came.
He fell back against the cushions as Peter pulled off, his lips shiny with Johnny’s come.
“Fuck.”
Peter grinned knowingly as he pressed kisses along his inner thigh, his torso, all the way up to Johnny’s lips. “Good?”
Johnny groaned, fisting a hand in Peter’s sweaty hair. “God, is this what I have to look forward to? My boyfriend being annoyingly smug after sex?”
Peter paused from where he’d been kissing Johnny’s cheeks, his nose. “Yeah? Boyfriend?”
Johnny went tense for a moment until he registered the warmth in Peter’s voice, the hopefulness. “Yeah,” Johnny whispered. “Totally.”
They were both grinning hard as they kissed again.
_______________________
Johnny had sunk to his knees on the floor and sucked Peter off before they’d even had a chance to leave the couch. It felt completely different than it had with Daken. Peter’s hand in his hair felt comforting and familiar, and when Peter tightened his grip on his hair and pumped his hips he asked, “Can I? Is this okay?”
It was; Johnny wanted (needed) even more. But Peter caring enough to make sure made all the difference. It was surreal, touching Peter’s cock for the first time, sucking him. He wasn’t overly loud, just small quiet gasps and grunts, choked-off moans that were somehow even hotter.
They stumbled naked through the hall afterward, and when Peter suggested a shower Johnny let himself be led there. He adjusted the heat of the water, let Peter’s hands glide over his wet skin, soaping him up. When Peter brought the washcloth over his ass Johnny gasped into his neck and spread his legs wider. “Oh wow.” Peter’s voice was a little muffled by the water but no less awestruck. Johnny had done that. Peter washed him lazily and then trailed his fingers down Johnny’s crack.
Johnny moaned quietly, pressing the sound into Peter’s skin. Peter lost the cloth and gripped him tighter with both palms, spreading his cheeks a little, nails raking over his skin, before tracing one finger along his crack and over his hole. Johnny moaned loudly.
“Yeah?”
“Please,” Johnny whispered, spreading his legs a little wider. He felt Peter’s cock jerk against his hip.
Peter groaned, catching his lips in a hot kiss. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
They did, Johnny drying them both off by cranking up his heat.
Peter raised an eyebrow, laughing. “Neat parlor trick.”
They fell on the bed in a tangle of limbs, Johnny on top and Peter’s hands hard and firm on his ass.
“Oh, god,” Johnny gasped, moving against Peter, hard again after having sucked Peter off and the manhandling from the shower.
Peter’s palms traced reverently over his ass again. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Johnny sniggered, cut off by Peter’s, “Spare me the puns, firefly.”
Johnny moaned when Peter’s finger teased his hole, pressing in just to the tip.
“Oh, wow, really hot.”
“Okay?” Johnny asked, biting his lip.
“More than,” Peter whispered, kissing his neck before rolling Johnny off him and settling between his legs. He lifted them, kissing each thigh before looking at Johnny through his eyelashes. “Can I — with my mouth?”
Johnny laughed, hand over his face. “I love how you can’t even say it. You really are oddly polite sometimes, Parker.”
Peter nipped at the soft skin of his inner thigh, making Johnny yelp. “Rim you,” Peter growled, making Johnny’s dick twitch. “Can I rim you, hot stuff?”
“Fucking hell, yes,” Johnny gasped, dragging that same hand down over his eyes, cheeks hot and body on fire.
Peter kissed his dick, his balls, before ducking his head and licking down Johnny’s crack, parting his cheeks. Johnny groaned and looked down at Peter’s face buried between his thighs. It was intimate and tender, the loving way Peter licked him open. But it was no less intense.
He didn’t want to think about Daken, but he couldn’t help comparing the two, to notice the missing pieces that were now getting filled, the empty feeling replaced by an overwhelming sense of rightness.
Peter had him practically folded in half and was working Johnny over, making him thrash and moan. Johnny gripped the bedsheets, thighs tensing beneath Peter’s grasp as he held him open.
“Pete, oh god, baby. Fuck me. Please.”
“Anything,” Peter said, voice low as he pulled off, kissing Johnny’s leg. “You can have anything you want.”
And that’s where the true difference lay. Daken had wanted Johnny to give him everything, and Johnny thought that was actually for his own benefit. But it hadn’t been, not really. Daken had wanted to take, but Peter wanted to give.
Peter leaned over to rummage around in his bedside table. Johnny took in the long line of his body, ran a hand up Peter’s side and down his arm simply because he could.
God, he could when this morning he really didn’t think so, despite Mary Jane’s reassurances.
“Any day now, Spidey.”
Peter groaned, throwing a spare web shooter over his shoulder while Johnny laughed. “Aha!” he crowed in triumph, holding up the lube for Johnny to see. Then his mouth dropped open.
“What?”
Peter shook his head, eyes trailing down Johnny’s body to where he lay, naked against the blue sheets. “You’re just — look, sparky, I know you get this a lot but you really are gorgeous.”
Johnny felt warm under the attention. He hadn’t felt gorgeous at all since he got back. He’d studied his body critically in the mirror. There weren’t visible scars (only the ones that lay inside him), but there were lines on his face that hadn’t been there before. And he was too pale.
Yet to Peter, he was.
“C’mere,” Johnny murmured, curling an arm around Peter’s neck. They kissed soft and deep, Peter melting against him. They touched all over before Peter slid two slick fingers inside him, Johnny still open from his tongue.
When Peter pushed into him, braced over Johnny with Johnny’s legs on either side of him, it felt like his first time. Like he’d been reborn in the Negative Zone, given a second chance to do it right. With the person he was meant to be with. Johnny clutched at Peter’s back, gasping as he sunk in deeper.
“You good, pretty boy?”
Johnny smiled, preening. “I’m good, Spidey. Fuck me already.”
Peter laughed. “You’re cute when you’re demanding.” But he pulled out ever so slightly before pushing forward again, thrusting again and again until he was all the way inside Johnny, circling his hips just right to hit his prostate.
Johnny threw his head back on a moan, his legs wrapping tight around Peter’s hips. “Yes. Right there.”
Peter groaned, his mouth hot and open on Johnny’s neck as he circled his hips again and again. “You feel incredible.”
Johnny moaned at the sincerity of his words, at the feel of Peter filling him up. He was so deep inside, yet Johnny wanted him even deeper, wanted Peter to crawl inside him like the worms that had kept him alive. He wanted to replace the nightmares with only this, Peter’s body and Peter’s love, Peter’s warmth that Johnny felt like a rush.
He pulled some of it into himself, arching his back as Peter started to thrust again, the bed knocking against the wall. Johnny clawed at his back, gasped his name.
“Johnny,” Peter moaned, mouth on his jaw, his chin, before covering Johnny’s lips. He wrapped one hand around Johnny’s cock, achingly hard and leaking at the tip. Peter dragged the pre-come around with his finger, thumbing the sensitive head as he fucked Johnny harder.
Johnny moaned into Peter’s mouth, their tongues tangling.
“Oh god,” Johnny gasped, fucking himself down on Peter’s dick, meeting him with every thrust.
Peter buried his face in Johnny’s neck, sweat-damp hair sticking to Johnny’s dry skin while Peter stroked his cock mercilessly and fucked into him even harder.
“Come on, come for me, beautiful.”
He felt pinned between Peter’s hand and Peter’s dick and all his body could do was listen. He came with a shout, probably giving the neighbors a show.
“Yeah, oh god, Johnny.” He tightened around Peter even more, making him moan softly as he circled his hips, again and again, grinding deep and making Johnny gasp every time he hit that spot.
Peter came with a low, long groan, his mouth on Johnny’s chest, tugging on one of his nipples. Johnny pet his hair, stroking through the messy strands. He smiled, sated and— happy, for the first time he could remember in a long time.
“Hey,” Peter whispered, kissing up to his ear.
“Hey.” Johnny ran his hands down his back.
“So this is me not being smug after sex. Enjoy it while it lasts, Storm.”
Johnny laughed. “Your restraint is greatly appreciated, Parker.”
They both laughed, foreheads pressed together, infectious like it always was with Pete. And then they were kissing, slow and dreamy like something out of a movie. They kept it up until Peter had to pull out.
He stayed close for a second, forehead still against Johnny’s, hair tickling his brow. “For real, though. How’d that measure up?”
Johnny groaned and flicked his finger at Peter’s shoulder. “What, don’t tell me you’re still jealous.” It was still surreal to think Peter ever was.
“Little hard not to be.”
He heard the slight insecurity in Peter’s voice that he was trying to hide, keep up the bravado.
Johnny pulled back to meet his eyes and considered him for a moment. “I never laughed in bed with him.”
Peter opened his mouth, probably to make a wise-ass remark about how that wasn’t necessarily an endorsement, until he met Johnny’s gaze head-on, seeing everything he had to lay bare.
“Oh,” Peter said quietly, and then they were kissing again, so sweet and soft that it nearly broke Johnny’s heart.
Peter grabbed them both a towel, and Johnny pushed the sheet down so they could get under it. Peter slid back into bed and immediately pulled Johnny against him.
“Say, I’m a little overheated here, do that temperature thing you do?”
Johnny laughed. “I see how it is. I’m onto you, buddy, don’t go thinking you can use me to save on your electric bill.”
“Foiled.”
Johnny laughed again, pulling some of Peter’s heat out of him and pressing it into himself.
“Mmm, that’s nice.”
Johnny rested his head on Peter’s chest, drawing circles on his stomach while Peter’s hands stroked his back. “I need to go back to the Baxter Building.”
He felt Peter tense beneath him. “Okay. Uh, now?”
Johnny rolled his eyes, propping himself up on one elbow. “No, not now, dummy. But I need to. I can’t stay here, just because I’m afraid to deal with things. I need to— I need to be around the kids, trust myself with them. Figure out who I am now, with them, in this new costume.”
Peter raised a hand to Johnny’s face, stroking his cheek. “Okay. I get it. I mean, I want to fix everything, but that’s just me always.”
Johnny smiled softly, heart full. “I know, Pete. And I’m not going to say this is going to be easy; I’ve got a lot going on in my head right now. A lot I need to start working through instead of pushing it down. Everything I’ve felt tonight is still there, despite how damn good I feel right now.”
He watched Peter’s face waver between proud and concerned.
Johnny leaned in closer, kissing his lips. “But, hey. You just being here for me — wanting me. Interested. Well, it’s more than I ever thought I’d get. And it means everything.”
Peter pressed his forehead to Johnny’s. “Good. Because I’m incredibly interested, hot stuff. You’re gonna have a tough time getting rid of me, let me tell you.”
Johnny’s pulse skipped a beat, and he brought their lips together, long and slow.
That was something he’d gladly hold Peter to. Moreover, he actually believed it.
Johnny Storm — back from the dead, but no less real — was ready to start the next chapter of his life.
The End.