Chapter Text
Johnny’s had an uneventful day.
Unfortunately (only for Johnny, really, because who else would look forward to it?), it's been pretty quiet on the hero side of things. No disasters, no sudden proclamations of world takeover by a crazed megalomaniac. It's been truly peaceful at the moment. As a superhero, you really couldn't ask for anything more.
As Johnny Storm, he needs something more. Needs something to scratch the itch he has buzzing under his skin. He's restless. The rest of the team are busy; out doing one thing or another or they don't have the patience for Johnny to poke and prod until he satisfies his boredom.
It seems the solution to his problem falls right into his lap, or his window, since it's the loud thud that snaps Johnny to attention.
Finally, something interesting? Is he getting attacked or kidnapped? Is the Baxter Building getting broken into? He's been dying to punch somebody recently. Johnny's got to burn this energy out, stat. Maybe he'll feel a bit better, too
He rises steadily from his slouched position in bed and heads for his window opposite of his room. It's late, and his lights are dimmed, so it's difficult to make out the shadowy figure on his tiny balcony. His brain is spinning with ideas on how this confrontation is going to play out, only just a bit hopeful that it's on the physical side. He closes in on the sliding doors of his balcony as the figure begins to pound on the window, impatient. Okay, well, if they want Johnny to bring the fight to them, he'll gladly oblige. He unconsciously flares his scent, an intimidation tactic.
When Johnny gets close enough to make out the figure on his balcony, he falters, confused. Spider-Man’s signature bright red mask catches his eye and he finds himself in an impromptu staring contest with the Webhead’s big, bug eyes.
Johnny blinks, and he thinks Spider-Man might blink back. With the mask and all, it's kinda hard to tell. Johnny doesn't really know what to do here. He expected something to hit. Someone to take his boredom and frustrations out on. A reason to turn off his brain and just fight. Spider-Man, while very frustrating on a good day, is not what Johnny was looking forward to. Spider-Man makes Johnny think a little too much. Johnny kind of doesn't want to think about him at all, right now. That ambiguous bastard. He's part of the reason Johnny’s got all this pent up emotion in the first place.
Spidey looks like his chest is heaving, and he slams against the balcony glass again. Johnny’s starting to worry he might crack the glass. He's surprised he hasn't already. Johnny knows how much he likes to hide his strength.
“Johnny! Let me in.”
Well, if Spider-Man were to jump off a cliff, would Johnny Storm follow?
With that being said, Johnny goes to unlock the sliding door without another thought. At least it's something that will occupy his mind for now. A really, really unfortunate something. Is it too late for Spidey to turn out to be a doombot?
It's not that Johnny has anything against him. Quite the opposite, really, and that's the problem. What do you do when you might be in love with your vigilante best friend who's favorite pastime is lying about what he had for breakfast out of paranoia that you might figure out his secret identity through which bodega he stopped at?
(The real answer for what he had for breakfast is probably nothing. Spider-Man loves skipping meals as much as he loves bullshitting. Johnny has had to practically tie the man down to get him to take care of himself before.)
Johnny breathes and takes in a whiff of his supposed-to-be intimidating scent he let off and tries to reign in back in as he slides the lock on the balcony door. Great, now he probably looks like some alpha asshole on top of everything else because he wanted to jump the gun. Spidey’s probably going to hold this over his head for days, all teasing.
Designations are something Spider-Man likes to avoid the topic most of all. Johnny's a proud alpha, raised right by his sister, another alpha. He has no shame in his status, and he doesn't judge others for theirs, either. He has perfect control of his instincts, too. A true, gentleman alpha, with the looks and charm to boot. Or so the media says. Spidey likes to refute those last two facts. Johnny just thinks he's jealous.
Regardless, the room smells like a raring to go alpha, and if Johnny’s right about his suspicions on Spidey being one, too, then this might be a bit of a problem. He's never had an issue like this with him before, but, y’know, a first time for everything, right?
Johnny backs away from the sliding glass as Spider-Man lunges at the unlocked door like he couldn't get to it fast enough. He fumbles the door open and throws himself into Johnny's room, practically slamming it back shut behind him. Johnny realizes a few things, all at once.
One, is that despite wearing his mask, Spidey’s not dressed for combat in the slightest. He's got on what looks like an old sleep shirt and a baggy pair of sweats. Now, Johnny’s not strict on uniform. He wouldn’t care what Spidey showed up dressed, planned hangout or otherwise. But Webs was the type of guy to refuse to even eat in front of Johnny for weeks. He wouldn’t come anything less than 100%. Talk about modesty.
The other thing that becomes so startling apparent is that Spider-Man is definitely not an alpha.
Well, at least Johnny doesn't have to worry about triggering some sort of alpha fight. No, he has to worry about something much, much worse.
What do you do when that paranoid vigilante best friend of yours shows up announced to your home while he is in heat? And you had no idea that he was an omega until this very moment?
Johnny’s quick to stumble away. He brings the collar of his shirt up over his nose like it might help.
“Spidey! What the fuck, dude?” He hisses through his shirt. Johnny eyes the balcony behind him. Spidey may have shut the glass door, but that wasn't the problem. The real problem would be the amount of trouble he'd cause for going flame on in his room and crashing through the glass to get away.
Spidey’s still heaving, and that distinctly omega-in-heat scent is filling his room at record breaking speed. He takes a step towards Johnny. Johnny’s careful to try and keep his distance. He's taken to breathing through his mouth instead of his nose. It doesn't really help. Spidey’s scent was piling up inside his lungs.
“You said–” Spider-Man gasps, “you said you'd take care of me, remember? If I ever needed you, Johnny. And I need you.”
Okay, pause the movie. Rewind. Cut the cameras. Spidey, needing Johnny? Johnny, taking care of Spidey? Of course Johnny would take care of him. In a heartbeat, he would. But, Johnny's confused, you see. Spider-Man’s not really the ‘I need help’ type.
And, Johnny thinks he would remember if he ever promised Spider-Man that he would help him through his heat. His omega heat. Because Spider-Man is an omega. Wow.
“Webs–Spidey–I don't–”
Johnny’s completely tongue-tied by it all, but that doesn't stop Spidey. He has a bag slung across his shoulders that he drops without a second thought. He's shaking, clearly overwhelmed.
“You said you would, Johnny. You told me. Look, I can show you–” and that's Spider-Man reaching up to tug off his mask. Double wow, okay, Johnny needs to do something. Stop him, for starters. Never in a million years would he do this in front of Johnny like that. And Johnny was okay with the mask as a barrier. He's always just wanted Spider-Man, and whatever came with it. If that was a mask for the rest of their lives, so be it.
Johnny drops his shirt from his nose without a second thought. He flounders, not wanting to get too close to the scent, but needing to stop Spidey from this mistake in the making. He's too indecisive, however, or maybe Spider-Man is just too fast.
The mask is off, and Johnny’s rendered still.
Peter Parker stares at him, hair plastered to his forehead from the mask. He's still breathing too deep, chest going up-down-up-down like he might pass out. Spider-Man is Peter Parker, and Peter Parker is Spider-Man. Triple wow.
Johnny may not remember promising to ever take care of Spider-Man, but he definitely remembers that conversation with Peter Parker.
And, that's been another one of Johnny's problems. But, it seems like they all tie back into the same guy. Johnny feels like laughing and crying and slamming his head into his wall until it cracks.
So, Johnny is maybe in love with his vigilante best friend. Old news, he knows. But he also harbors feelings for his civilian friend–good ol’ Peter Parker, annoyance extraordinaire. They've been on a few dates, and Johnny really likes him. He also couldn't help but compare the guy to Spider-Man in his head all the damn time. It was weird, at first, the similarities Johnny's brain couldn't help but point out. He figured he had a type. That's all.
Clearly, he was right. His type is just a bit more specific. It's the same damn person.
Johnny wants to be mad about this. He wants to stick up for himself and tell Peter off for surprising him like this and playing him–was Peter playing him? If Johnny thought that he had something with two different guys, but it turns out that those two different guys were actually the same guy, wouldn’t it be his fault for tricking Johnny by adding unneeded stress? By making Johnny unsure? And feel bad? Peter’s wrecked Johnny emotionally, but.
Peter just smells so good.
Peter’s scent was suffocatingly sweet, spreading to every inch of Johnny’s room and smothering him in it. It felt like Peter was soaking into his skin; Johnny’s head was spinning at the taste of it on the tip of his tongue–Peter’s scent was so thick that it boarded on cloying, but to Johnny–it was addictive. Peter Parker in heat was like a drug, and Johnny never wanted to come down from this high.
Peter stumbles forward, unsteady as his heat takes over him, Johnny doesn’t think, he reacts; catching Peter as the omega falls towards Johnny, his scent spiking in distress. Johnny wants nothing more than to wipe his fear away, his alpha demanding to find Peter’s source of fear and destroy it until there’s nothing left. Johnny keeps his cool instead, an attempt to not freak out the omega in his hold with his intense, inner turmoil. He hugs Peter tight, and starts to rub up and down Peter’s back; an attempt at comfort for the omega.
Peter was wound up tight in Johnny’s arms, a tangled mess of heat-induced stress and vulnerability that Johnny wishes he could melt away with the snap of his fingers. It’s not right for him to seem so exposed. Peter Parker–Spider-Man–-is someone who is not easily shaken. An independent, guarded man with walls so high Johnny could only dream of reaching.
“It hurts,” Peter rasps, shaking as Johnny continues to rub his hands up and down Peter’s back. He keeps the heat to a minimum, nothing more than a gentle warmth to coax the omega’s muscles into relaxing. Peter feels feverish, and Johnny doesn’t think he’s ever felt the other man run this hot. If he didn’t know any better, Johnny would assume that Peter was the one with the ability to light himself on fire.
Johnny gently shushes him, “It’s okay, Pete. I’ve got you. I got you.”
Peter responds with a whine. He clings back to Johnny, squeezing Johnny’s middle with that proportional-strength-of-a-spider that he likes to flaunt with cheek. Johnny winces, hopes that it's not his bones he hears creak, and continues his soothing motions. Peter dips his face into Johnny’s neck, dangerously close to his scent gland, and swipes his nose back and forth, inhaling sharply. The sound of a quiet rumble begins to fill the room, and Johnny can feel his own temperature rise as he realizes two things at once. The first, is that Peter is honest-to-god purring in Johnny’s arms, the sweet scent of his heat expanding even further as he emits a mix of contentment and satisfaction, along with a burning need of more.
The second thing Johnny realizes, maybe just a little bit too late, is that Peter is scenting him. One of Peter’s hands found its way up from Johnny’s middle to the other side of his neck, and the inside of his wrist presses down firmly right onto the scent gland opposite of the one he noses at as it rubs across his skin in time with his nose. The smell of dark chocolate and sugar is invasive.
Peter Parker is scenting Johnny Storm, and Johnny thinks he must’ve died and gone to heaven.
Johnny’s own hands travel up Peter’s back to cup the omega’s face and pull his face away from his neck. Peter doesn’t go easily, and it reminds Johnny again just how strong his partner is. A
shiver wracks down his spine at the thought of the many different ways Peter could use that strength to his advantage right now.
Peter’s face is flushed in Johnny’s warm hands. His eyes are glazed over, pupils blown wide. He sees Johnny, and yet he doesn’t; too far gone in his own instincts to really know what he’s doing anymore. If Johnny was high off of Peter’s scent, the other man was drunk off of Johnny. It makes the alpha in Johnny absolutely preen. Johnny is making the omega feel like that. Peter sought out Johnny in his heat. Nobody else. He didn’t even retreat into himself like he has before, or like Johnny expects him to. No, Peter wanted Johnny. It was so simple. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Peter Parker trusts Johnny Storm to take care of him during his heat. He wants Johnny. He wants Johnny and his bitter scent, wants Johnny and everything that comes with the alpha.
Peter pouts at Johnny, and Johnny can feel his resolve weaken at the sight. He falters, and Peter tries to take advantage to dive back into Johnny’s neck. His years as a hero have sharpened his instincts, however, and Johnny was able to catch Peter by tightening his hands around his face. His intention wasn’t to hurt the omega, but Johnny wanted–needed–to take control back of the situation at hand. He inhaled and exhaled through his mouth, careful not to intake more of that sweet scent than is strictly necessary. Peter’s purr turned into more of an annoyed growl, and his scent soured with discontent. Johnny, who is usually so in control of himself, who would never allow his instincts to drive him, finds himself growling back. Another attempt to wrangle control back, but all it does it make Peter curl his lip, showing off elongated fangs–and where the fuck did he get those?
Of course, Peter wouldn’t be one to submit. Not that Johnny wants him to submit, per-say, but he just wants to slow down. And isn’t that something? Johnny Storm, The Human Torch, wanting to slow down. And Peter–distrustful, paranoid Peter, is more than eager to speed things up.
Their–in Johnny’s opinion, stupid–little growl off ends with Peter being the one to draw back first. The omega has another trick up his sleeve, it seems, as he begins to pout again. Peter’s eyes do this–this thing, and Johnny feels like he’s being sucked into another universe.
“Please, Johnny?” He asks, and it’s so soft, so sweet, as sweet as the scent permeating Johnny’s room.
“Aren’t you always wanting to take care of me?” Peter mimics Johnny’s position and brings both of his hands up to cup Johnny’s face. They’re holding onto each other, now, and Peter pulls Johnny forward to knock his forehead against Johnny’s. Johnny is mesmerized. All he can see, can smell, can feel, is Peter. Peter is taking up every thought, every sense, every aspect of Johnny, at this moment. If Johnny were to die this very moment, he’d have no regrets.
Well, he’d have one, and it would be denying Peter of any request he would make tonight.
Peter closes his eyes, and he sags against Johnny. Johnny is still as Peter falls forward into his body. Johnny goes from holding Peter’s face to curling one hand into the back of his hair as the other arm wraps across the back of Peter’s shoulders. Peter’s face hovers back over Johnny’s scent gland, and the discontent turns into safe-warm-loved, and Johnny knows he’s lost this fight. He melts as Peter begins to nose his scent gland again, and Johnny rubs his own wrist into the scent gland on Peter’s neck. Their scents mix, a combination of smoky and sweet. It’s like the smell of burning sugar, the bitterness of Johnny intertwining with the sweetness of Peter’s until they become one.
“What do you need, Peter?” Johnny’s voice is hoarse, raw with the need to take care of Peter’s every need without hesitation. Peter responds by sinking his fangs into the meat of Johnny’s shoulder, away from his scent gland, and yet the implications make Johnny’s mind run wild. Johnny hisses, a mix of pain and a bit of pleasure, and Peter smirks into Johnny’s shoulder, the brat. He pulls his teeth out of Johnny’s shoulder and plants a kiss on the bite mark. Johnny shivers again.
“Just hold me, please,” Peter sighs. He tucks his face back into Johnny’s neck. No more nosing, no more teasing or biting, Just Peter, finding safety in Johnny’s arms. He seems lucid enough, unlike before, or maybe he’s always been lucid. Maybe Johnny’s been played for a fool. He finds that he doesn’t care, if he’s honest. Peter could ask him to set the world on fire, and Johnny wouldn’t even hesitate.
“I can do that,” Johnny responds, clutching Peter tighter.
“But, maybe we should move this to the bed. A tired spider is an unhappy spider, no? You need your rest, webs.”
Peter pulls away from Johnny to glare at him. It’s not really that intimidating, what with the flushed cheeks and smell of chocolate. Dare he say, Johnny thinks Peter looks pretty cute.
Johnny unwraps from Peter to pinch one of his cheeks like an old granny. Peter smacks Johnny’s hand away, and resorts to nipping at his fingers with his fangs when Johnny tries again. He giggles, only a bit delirious.
Peter tries and fails to suppress a smile. “You’re ruining the moment,” he complains, dramatically.
“What moment? The moment where you wrap me in a little web and eat me for dinner? That bite hurt, ya know.”
Peter’s scent turned smug. “The way you smelled said otherwise.”
Johnny scoffed, flustered. “Yeah right, like you can tell up from down right now, heat-for-brains.”
“Says the walking, talking matchstick,” Peter shoots back.
Johnny goes for another cheek pinch, and Peter tackles him in retaliation. They stumble back until Johnny hits his bed, and Peter falls on top of him. They’re both smiling, cheesy, and Johnny doesn’t think he’s felt more light in his life.
“Hi,” Johnny breathes out.
“Hey,” Peter grins back.
Johnny can think of nothing but dark chocolate and sugar. He thinks he must’ve developed a sweet tooth for Peter’s scent. He inhales deeply, letting Peter invade his senses. Peter watches the rise and fall of Johnny’s chest like a hawk. He eyes Johnny as Johnny lets Peter in, lets Peter overwhelm him with his scent.
“You should rest.” Johnny reminds Peter. Peter must be exhausted, Johnny thinks. He doesn’t know what it feels like to go into heat, but he’s had plenty of ruts to know that instincts are a stubborn thing. Johnny spreads his scent out in an attempt to comfort Peter, a mix of you’re-safe-I’ll-protect-you that has Peter melting. Peter begins to purr again, and his body flops down to rest on top of Johnny’s. Johnny rolls them over until they’re laying on their sides. He wraps his arms around Peter’s waist and curls around the omega. Peter smells like a dream, and he’s so beautiful. Johnny pressed a chaste kiss on Peter’s neck, right over his scent gland, and now it’s Peter’s turn to shiver. The omega smells of love and comfort, and Johnny could spend the rest of his life in bed with Peter without wanting anything else.
With Peter in his arms, time blurs. The omega was knocked out cold; dead to the world now that he feels safe. Johnny’s exhausted himself, but he can't find it in him to completely unwind. He's calm, but on alert, aware of every creak of the building and twitch of Peter’s body. His alpha is in full protective mode.
Hours pass with Peter asleep, the quiet rumbling purr of his chest filling the quiet room. Johnny tries to let himself relax, tries to sink into Peter’s scent and rest his eyes. There's no danger, he reassures himself. The Baxter Building is one of the safest buildings in all of New York. And, honestly, Johnny would be more scared of Peter in a heat-induced rage than a D-list wannabe villain right now.
However, just because there's no impending risk of supervillain doom, doesn't mean everything is smooth sailing. There's one obstacle Johnny forgot about.
His family.
The quiet breaks as the sound of the rest of the Four drifts in. Idle chatter reaches his ears, too faint for him to make out the topic, yet it’s loud enough for Johnny to hear. Which means, Peter’s extra sensitive senses pick up on it, too. He grumbles in Johnny's arms, rolling over to face Johnny and tucks his face into Johnny’s chest. The purr picks up as Peter seemingly tries to drown out any other noise. Johnny’s just glad he's not overreacting. He knows omegas can be territorial. Reed can get especially weird about people entering his lab when it's around heat time for him. Johnny's not exactly sure what Peter would consider his ‘territory’, but he doesn't want to find out by someone crossing it.
Peter burrows further into Johnny as the noise gets louder. Johnny feels a sort of panic zip up his spine as his sister's scent gets closer. Peter begins to tense up more the closer the smell gets. It stops right outside his door, hovering. There's a knock.
“Johnny!” Sue calls through the door.
“Johnny, what's that smell? What's going on?”
Peter’s purr transforms into another growl, more dangerous than the previous one hours ago. Johnny is the definition of panic right now. He's got a feral omega in heat in his bed, scent so strong it’s leaking through the door, where his alpha big sister waits, impatient.
Johnny curses, and cranes his neck to the door. “Just–give me a sec, will ya?”
He turns back to Peter, who’s growling louder now, glazed over eyes fixed on the door to Johnny’s room. It’s like he's just waiting for Sue to enter, to give him an excuse to lash out. Under literally any other circumstances, Johnny probably would've found the whole thing super hot.
Well, at least he knows what Peter considers his ‘territory’ now. Johnny feels flattered. It is weird that he feels flattered?
“Listen, Pete, I'll be right back, okay?” Johnny tries to pry himself out of Peter’s grip. It doesn't work. The Webhead clutches onto him like his life depends on it, and in his heat-addled brain, it probably does.
Peter’s eyes snap from Johnny to the door and back. It's like he's trying to decide what the bigger threat here was; Johnny leaving, or Sue entering?
In the end, Peter’s eyes find Johnny’s own. Johnny can see the desperation in them. The fear. He doesn't want Johnny to let go. He doesn't want to be left alone, even for a second, and something within Johnny stirs protectively. He knows it's his instincts again. Johnny knows he should reign them in, knows that nothing good’ll come from him being as lost in his own head as Peter, but he can't help himself from releasing his own calming scent to cover Peter’s distressed one. He brings his wrist up to Peter’s face and Peter nuzzles into it, sighing as the tension left him in wake of his alpha’s reassurance.
Sue can probably smell Johnny now, too. She knocks again.
“Johnny!”
Johnny winces. He honestly doesn't know what's worse: Peter's wrath, or his sister’s?
“I said give me a sec! I'll be out there!”
Johnny brings his attention back to Peter. “Listen, okay, Pete? I need to see Sue real quick. I'll be back. I won't leave you, okay? I won't. I swear on my life.”
Because that's what it is, isn't it? Peter’s scared Johnny’ll leave. Johnny knows Peter’s lost a lot; his friends, his aunt–his entire life. Peter’s the strongest man Johnny knows. He couldn't even comprehend going through what Peter has and making it through to the other side. And now he's here, and his walls are down, and he's finally letting Johnny take care of him like Johnny has always wanted. And, he must be scared that he's making a mistake. That if Johnny leaves, it means he's just another person through the revolving doors of Peter Parker’s life. Johnny’s not going to be another one lost. He refused to let Peter push him away, and he'll be damned if he makes a mistake.
Peter looks conflicted, distrustful. Like he can't understand what Johnny is saying. Or he doesn't believe it. Johnny moves his wrist from Peter’s–and by god does that whining noise Peter makes break his heart. He cups the back of Peter’s head and pulls him forward, leaning up to drop a kiss against his temple. He drops his own head against Peter’s, knocking their foreheads together again like Peter did earlier. He looks deep into Peter’s eyes, and Peter looks back. He lets the omega search him, lets him peel away Johnny’s layers until there's nothing left of him but his truth.
“You can trust me, Webs. Peter. You can trust me. I promise, I'll come back. I'll always come back to you. I'll be right outside.” Johnny murmured.
Peter doesn't look away. He’s still for a beat, and then two, and then Peter slumps. The omega sighs something worthy of a soap opera, all drawn out and long suffering. Johnny chuckles at his dramatics, and feels his own tension relieved at the trust in Peter’s scent. Peter trusts him, and Johnny won't ever break that. He'll destroy himself before that happens.
Johnny untangles himself from Peter. He gets up out of bed, stretches, and groans. Just how long have they been in bed?
He goes to make his way outside, but is stopped by Peter’s hand snapping out to grab at the bottom of Johnny’s shirt.
“Come back.” Peter demands, a pout on his lips. His face is still flushed, and his curls are stuck to his face from his sweat. Damn, he's probably gonna need a bath soon, right? It can't be good to sit like that all week, heat or not. Speaking of, Johnny should probably get supplies. Water, for sure. Definitely snacks. Food to tie Peter over while he waits his heat out. Johnny’s barely getting away with sneaking out to placade Sue. He doubts he'll be able to raid the fridge while he's at it. Maybe Sue would help him out, if he doesn't piss her off. Which, with the time he's taking to get outside, he's not so sure about.
Johnny pries Peter’s fingers from his shift. He leans down and presses a kiss to Peter’s knuckles. Winking, he says “I promised, didn't I?”
Peter rolls his eyes and snatches his hand back. Huffing, the omega rolls away from Johnny and further back on the bed.
“Hurry up.” He dismisses Johnny.
Johnny scoffs, amusement bubbling up. “If you say so, Your Highness.”
He tries to pat down his hair into something resembling normal as he makes his way to the door. He doesn't think it worked. Regardless, Johnny twists the knob of his door and prepares himself for the inevitable reprimand he's about to receive from his sister. She's standing on the other side, arms crossed, with a concerned frown on her face. Johnny darts out, daring to sneak one last glance at Peter in his bed, before closing the door shut behind him. With a resolve, he looks her in the eye.
Sue’s nose is wrinkled up as what must be Peter’s heat hits her nose. With the door opening, it leaked out in waves, and most of it was already stuck to Johnny like a second skin, anyways. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to wash the scent of chocolate from his skin again. He finds that he doesn't mind that.
“You smell like heat.”
Ah, ever so straight to the point, that Susan Storm. She's quick to control the instinctive reaction on her face to Peter's scent. Reed, who’s also an omega, smells nothing like Peter. Honestly, Johnny doesn't think he's ever met an omega that smells anything like Peter. He doesn't think anyone could ever compare, either, now that he knows what Peter smells like in heat.
“I know,” Johnny responded.
“Listen, Sue–”
His sister cuts him off. “Johnny. You have an omega in your room. With you. Alone. Do you realize how this looks?”
Her eyes sweep over him, probably looking for bruises or scratches or anything that could allude to what usually happens when an omega and an alpha spend a heat together alone. Johnny’s still in his sleeping clothes from the night before. He didn't really plan his week with taking care of his best friend in heat, in his defense.
Sue’s eyes stop on the spot between Johnny’s neck and shoulder. Her frown deepens, and Johnny can feel her scent sour. He reaches up to cover where she's looking, and his hand presses down on the bite mark Peter left on him. It burned, the memory of Peter’s fangs sinking into his skin and drawing blood.
Fuck, she's totally going to freak out, isn't she?
“Sue, it's not what it looks like. I swear.”
“Oh, so that's not an omega bite on your shoulder then, Johnny?”
Yeah, totally pissed off. Johnny might end up having to run away with Peter to a foreign country, where they'll change their names and take on odd jobs for food and housing for the rest of their lives. Johnny wouldn't mind the vacation away from Reed, but he'll miss little Franklin.
“It is, but Sue–just listen! It's not–not a mating bite or anything. It's just. A bite.”
Great save, Storm. God, the idea of being mated to Peter… Johnny doesn't think he can handle it.
Sue doesn't say anything. She looks at him, and it's the you're-in-trouble, little brother look she sported so many times when they were younger. She reaches up and moves Johnny’s hand away from the bite mark. She examines it, like she's his Physician and he's seeing her for his yearly check up. Johnny doesn't know what she sees, but she drops his hand and steps back after a second.
“Listen, Johnny…” she starts. “You. You need to be careful, okay? Heats aren't something you can just play around with. Omegas are vulnerable during this time, and–”
“It's not like that!” Johnny shrieks, face red.
Sue blinks, caught off guard at her little brother's outburst. She takes another look at him, at his embarrassed face and messy hair. He doesn't look like he's exactly been a heatmate, more like he rolled straight out of bed after a really deep nap. Regardless, that bite on his shoulder and that scent wrapped around him… it reeks of omega. So much so that she has a hard time stomaching it. It makes her feel bad that she finds this mysterious omega to be so unpleasant. But, she can't help the way the alpha in her recoils at the sugary smell.
“Then what's it like?” She asks, gentling her tone. She knows Johnny isn't the type to be careless, not like this. She raised him better than that.
“Do you… remember Peter?” He asks her.
“That civilian friend of yours?”
“Right!” Johnny exclaims. “Right, so–he’s, he's an omega, yeah, and well…”
Johnny sighs, deep. He scrubs one of his hands through his hair.
“He got–hit, with a sudden heat, or something, and we were closer than his place. That's it, really. He sought me out. He–”
He trusts Johnny, it's unsaid. Peter trusts Johnny. He trusts him to take care of him during his heat, not to take advantage of hurt or hurt him while he's so vulnerable.
Sue softens. Her little brother's heart is too big for his chest. She loves him for it.
“And you've got this under control?” This question is important for her. She knows Johnny wouldn't do anything over the line, and yet, if he's in over his head…
“I do.” Johnny is firm in his resolve.
“Like I said, it's not like that. I'm gonna take care of him, but, but not like that. It wouldn't be right.”
Sue’s heart beams with pride. She smiles at him. “Well, then I'll leave you to it,” and she clears her throat, nods, and starts to turn to leave. If Johnny says he's got it under control, she'll trust him. Wow, her little brother has grown so much… Sue remembers when he was just a teen, and even younger, and she feels emotional thinking about Franklin getting that old. Her first baby, all grown up, and her second one growing with every day…
“Sue, wait!”
She's stopped by Johnny tugging at her shoulder. He stops and so does he, looking like he nearly forgot something.
“Uh, listen. So Pete’s been asleep, like all night, or day, or whatever. And he needs water and something to eat, and I don't want to leave him alone for too long. He's–I just don't think it would be. Safe.”
Johnny rambles, trying to make sure she understood what he meant.
Sue feels her mood lift. “I got you, Johnny. I'll leave some stuff outside the door. Just, be careful, okay?”
Johnny beams, his confidence returning at his sister's understanding.
“You know me, sis, always careful.”
Sue snorts, “yeah, I don't know about that.” She nods to his bite.
Johnny gets indignant. “I'll have you know, I let him do that–”
“I don't need details!” Sue proclaims over his voice, trying to drown him out. She shooed him away “Just, don't go getting yourself hurt, doing this.”
It was solid advice, something Johnny knows he should do. He also knows he's not going to listen. Peter's got Johnny wrapped around his finger like he was Mr. Fantastic. Johnny wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
Sue departs, and Johnny is left alone outside his room. Peter's scent instantly drowns out the scent of his sister's, overwhelming the area outside of his room. He should go back inside.
Back to Peter. His omega.
‘His’? Was he really?
Johnny needs to find out.
He turns back to the door and opens it. Entering the room, Johnny instantly feels 10x warmer, no powers needed. He finds the air of the room thickens so much it takes more effort to breathe. He closes the door behind him and makes sure to click the lock.
He's never been more grateful to have an ensuite bathroom.
Peter decided to make himself at home. He's pulled out all sorts of clothes and miscellaneous items Johnny owns, along with Peter’s own Spider-Man suit to add some charm. He's built his own homemade Human Torch themed nest.
Johnny’s heart swells with pure love.
Peter’s head snapped towards him the second he stepped inside. He glares at Johnny, impatient for him to get back on the bed and into his nest. Johnny did promise to hurry up, didn't he?
Johnny chuckles, only a little bit delirious, and makes his way to the nest. He stops at the edge, and asks like a true gentleman; “May I?”
Peter reaches out, snatches Johnny by the chest of his shirt, and tugs.
Johnny tumbles into Peter’s arms. Peter goes straight for the scent gland on his neck, dragging his nose through his scent gland and back down to his bite mark. Peter's bite mark.
The Human Torch shivers.
Peter stops over the bite mark. He breathes over it, ghosting his fangs over the punctures.
Right, Sue hovered over him. Good Ol’ Possessive Peter Parker at work…
Johnny can't blame him. His mouth waters as cocoa invades his senses. His teeth ache from the sugar.
Peter pulls him to lay down, and wraps himself over Johnny, curling him in his web and rubbing his face into Johnny’s chest. He purrs. Johnny holds him by the shoulders. Wraps his arms around the back of him. The ends of his curls rub against his knuckles, damp with sweat.
Right. A bath. Peter will need a bath soon.
Johnny needs to do that. Eventually.
They have all week, after all. Peter coos to him, satisfied.