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The kid had been living with him for six months now and it was more than obvious to him that their relationship wasn't exactly healthy. The spider was clingy and hung onto Frank like a monkey whenever he was within a few feet of his presence.
Others had noticed of course. It wasn't every day someone like him had a depressed vigilante playing housewife. The comments were brief but noticeable enough that he caught Peter blushing a few times.
He came to the killer, asking if his behaviour was weird to which Frank would always roll his eyes and shoo him. He was too old to give a damn about his reputation in the cluster fuck that was the so-called superhero community.
Plenty of these so-called heroes had done worse than him and gotten pats on the back for it. All he was doing was allowing the kid to be free in a safe environment where he was loved and pampered like the amazing wife he was born to be. Because damn it, he loved Peter and all his strange quirks.
It was impossible not to when the spider was such a brat. He sassed the older man back and behaved like he was the boss when it came to running their household. Shoes had to be off at the door. Food only eaten at the kitchen table and god help him if Peter caught him leaving dirty boxers on the floor. The kid was obsessive and a weirdo who'd stolen his heart along with his house key.
The young man had invaded his house to run it like the military and it was beyond attractive. He was submissive and confident in all the right places. A perfect balance of both in a way that the majority of people would never witness.
"Frank, I made zucchini casserole." The super clean freak in question marched into their living room with a steaming pan in his hands that smelled unpleasant.
The mention of the type of dish that Peter spent hours perfecting made him laugh. "Zucchini casserole?" It was an absurd meal for a man born after the 1960s to even think of making.
Peter glared and set the pan down a little too hard. His strength showed as a crack splintered down the hot marble as he walked off. "Eat your food before I take away your pussy privileges."
The threat of being deprived of Peter's ridiculously tight cunt made his chest hurt. When the man had told him he had one, Frank laughed. There was no way in hell that was possible when he had seen the bulge the man carried in old photos.
Peter quickly proved that said bulge no longer existed as he grabbed the old bastard's hand and put it down his shorts. To reveal that, in fact, there was a vagina down there and not a dick. A consequence of his secondary mutation, along with the black eyes and the organic webs, was his dick turning into that.
While the transformation was initially alarming and Frank suggested the young man seek a professional's opinion on the matter, they grew to enjoy it. Sex with a man who could contort his body like a pretzel and eat you when he got too feral was exhilarating.
Frank was a lucky man, and Peter made sure he knew it with the constant praise he fished with his adorable pouting. The man was doing that right then, standing in the hallway with his arms crossed and puppy eyes glossy. Frank sighed, knowing he lost his battle.
He cut a piece of the casserole and dug in with his fork, sighing dramatically. "Yes, dear."
"Does it taste good?" The top layer was completely burnt, and Peter forgot to cut some pieces of zucchini.
Frank took a bite and did a double take at the crunch.
The spider noticed his distaste and pouted even more, his voice wobbling as he sniffled. "I tried my best for you. I ironed your uniform and cleaned your guns just like you taught me how."
Charred pasta be damned, Frank had a wife to simp for. "It was wonderful, dear."
"Great!" The spider jumped for joy before grinning deviously. "What do you want for dessert?"