Ultimate Comics: Invisible Handjob

A/N: This fic takes place after issue 86 of Ultimate Spider-Man and was betaed by Nomani.

It'd finally happened. Peter was finally going crazy. Because he was totally alone in the steam room and he was sure someone was talking to him.

Voice in his head. He wondered if there was room for it next to his spider-sense and the general guilt.

He couldn't even blame it on someone hitting him with mental rays or drugs or even Grateful Dead music. The night before, he'd fought the Shocker, taken the brunt of a... vibro-hit or whatever... but had popped nothing stronger than Aspirin for his bruised ribs. Then he'd muddled through his school day... got out of gym class though he was pretty sure the coach thought he had menstrual cramps... and slunk into the locker room.

Peter supposed he was letting down the stereotypical nerd, but the locker room was the best thing about Midtown High (at least, now that he'd broken up with Mary Jane). Not for the reason Flash might have oh-so-sensitively suggested so many times, but because it contained the steam room.

He wasn't sure why; maybe it was completely psychosomatic. But putting in a half hour or so in a steam room seemed to wipe him clean of all his bruises and cuts. Something about how his radioactive blood processed injuries, and then how sweating detoxified him. Probably.

He didn't like thinking about it. Thinking about it usually led to him being convinced he was going to turn into a giant spider someday. And nobody likes giant spiders. People didn't even like movies about giant spiders. Wild Wild West...

This would be when he heard a voice in his head.

"So, this is going to sound weird, but... hi."

It was a woman's voice. That was a good sign, right? Or maybe it meant he had mommy issues. Hard to tell. "Let me guess. You want me to burn something?"

The woman—or his own subconscious, or whatever—laughed. "Uh, no, think it's hot enough in here. Oh, you're thinking I'm like a leprechaun or something? No, no, here. I usually try to avoid this, but..."

Peter watched, about as confused as usual, as a pitcher of water picked itself up and poured a little of itself onto the sauna rocks in the middle of the room. The blast of steam outlined—a woman. Nice woman. Neat breasts. Bubble butt...

Peter slapped himself mentally. Good thing it wasn't a voice in his head, overhearing that. Geez, could you tell he was a bachelor now? "Sue? Sue Storm?"

And, realizing that it wasn't a voice in his head, Peter also realized that he was alone in a cramped steam room, with a girl, wearing nothing more than a towel. "Hey now!" he cried, quickly checking the knot at his waist.

"Ssh! Shh! It's okay! I'm just—I'm sitting down next to you now." Peter watched the moisture—do something—on the bench next to him. "Okay, alright, this is a little embarrassing. But I'm gonna tell you and you're gonna laugh."

"Oh, so it's funny-ha-ha and not funny-there's-an-invisible-woman-next-to-me?"

"Don't freak out!"

"You can't un-freak me out by just saying 'don't freak out'! If I step off a cliff, are you gonna tell me 'don't fall'?"

"Shut up and listen."

Peter took a deep breath. The cleansing aroma of the steam room—along with some of Sue's perfume. Oy vey and vey oy. "You're right, you're right. You've got some secret mission for me? Superhero team-up we need to get on? Tell me, I'm all ears."

"I had a fight with Reed."

Peter blinked. "Like... he turned evil and is building a death-ray and we need to punch him?"

"Oh, I wish. More like—moaned my mom's name in his sleep. While I was grinding on him."

"Grinding?" Peter repeated.

"You know, when you're sleeping together and you—well, not you, but the lady—rubs her booty into your groin."

"I wouldn't... precisely... know."

A brief pause. "Love 'em and leave 'em, huh? Good policy. But yeah, girls do that. On purpose."

"Why? That's... that's where we keep our penises."

"Yeah, and you get hard-ons and... it's reassuring, somehow. I don't know, maybe I'm just weird. I read it in Cosmo, God knows they'll publish anything up to and including how to summon Cthulu, but it's kinda my jam now. Anyway, I'm giving Reed the time of day, he's getting a boner—and when you're Mr. Fantastic, you can get a lot of a boner..."

"We sure I'm not going crazy? This feels like going crazy."

"—he starts in 'oh, Mrs. Storm!'"

"Maybe he was talking about you?"

"I'm Dr. Storm."

"Ah." Peter looked around. Sue was still invisible. "Can we bring this around to why I'm naked?"

"That sounds like a personal matter. But yeah, I needed someone to talk to. Ben is Reed's best friend, Johnny is my brother—but he's talked about you a lot, so I figured I could find you and bend your ear. I saw you web-swinging during lunch period, tried to say something, but... yeah, I'm awkward. Now I know why superheroes always fight each other when they first meet in the comics. A lot simpler than saying 'hey, superfriend, you don't know me, but wanna hear about my douche boyfriend?'"

"So you followed me to my school, watched me change clothes, then followed me into the boys' locker room and watched me disrobe again—"

"I covered my eyes with my hand."

"Oh."

"Of course, my hand was also invisible..."

"Goy!"

"You make a lot of noises. Anyone ever tell you that? More than a few..."

"You know my secret identity!"

"Sorry. But, hey, Johnny knows, and he's an idiot. You don't think I can keep a secret better than my idiot brother?"

And all of a sudden, Peter broke off with a cackle that echoed off the walls. "You know something? I used to have nightmares about some idiot with a cell phone taking a picture of me without a mask on and, like—Chow Yun-Fat showing up at my house with a gun in each hand to kill my aunt. You know? Now, Nick Fury knows, probably got some database with my superhero name right next to my shoe size—Black Cat saw my face. Don't know how good a look she got before she vomited. Yeah. Invisible Woman. Knows who I am. Why not?"

"That was, ah, a very healthy outlook for a statement preceded by a maniacal laugh."

Peter put his hands behind his back and leaned against the wall. "Yup. So, what'd you want to talk about?"

"Oh, let's not talk about me. Big sister syndrome. Just... what's up with you?"

"I'm naked and a strange woman wants to talk with me about being single."

"Oh, like you haven't written fanfic about that." After a moment, Peter heard a zipper working. "Tell you what. Since you're hung up on the nudity thing, I'll lose a few layers. Least I can do."

Peter watched as a jacket appeared in mid-air, like a magician's trick—was folded and hung up on the wall. Then, with a click of metal, a belt popped open and a pair of pants came down long, invisible legs.

Under the towel, Peter felt his webshooter give a twitch.

Regardless, he said "It loses some of the effect when you're invisible."

"Having a hard time turning it off," she confessed. "When I get really upset, it kinda... sticks. And, God... my mother... I'm wearing panties, by the way. Don't think I'm not."

"I wasn't—"

"Boy-cut panties. Case you were wondering."

"I was—not particularly?"

Little footprints appeared and dissipated on the moist floor. "So, what's this about a black cat seeing your face and throwing up? Did you have a zit or something?"

"Uh, the Black Cat. This thief-y vigilante person. Woman."

"Oh. It's like that."

"It was. It almost was. She was pretty into me up until she realized I couldn't buy beer."

"What? You'd think a criminal would have more appreciation for jailbait. Anyway, you pretty much talk in emoticons; what was she expecting, Cary Grant?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I'm out two girlfriends. Mary Jane—ex number one—she can't protect herself and I can't protect her and if I keep pulling her in... well, I don't have to tell you. How long would a normal person last if you put him up at the Baxter Building so you could have a cuddle buddy?"

"Yeah. Unless I get very open-minded, my little black book is Reed and Namor. They could have a dickhead-measuring contest."

"Well, look on the bright side. More of us every day. I bet the next version of the Ultimates will have an eligible bachelor."

"If I break up with Reed." Peter could see some of her face now. Somehow, her tears smeared on it. "Oh, shit, what am I gonna do?"

Peter reached out carefully. She didn't shy away, not even when his hand found her arm. He slid it over her bare skin, from one slim shoulder to the one, wrapping her up and drawing her close. Her warm weight settled against his side and he heard her sniffle.

"You know what I think?" he asked the empty air. "I think our lives suck. Everyone's life sucks, at least a little, somehow. And when your life sucks in a certain way, you figure out how to deal with that kind of sucking. And someone else whose life sucks in a different way, they have their own way of dealing with their sucking. And so, if their life sucks in some new way that's something like the way your life sucks, you can tell them how to deal. And they can tell you how to deal when your life sucks like theirs. And maybe if we all just stopped thinking how our lives are sucking and thought about how other people's lives suck—maybe we could all figure out what we're supposed to do with this huge, sucky world."

She shook against his body. Her skin was hot and damp and soft and smooth. All the more special because he couldn't see or much remember it.

One of her tears slipped to his skin. It was cold. A little icicle growing down to touch his body. "I can see why the Cat was so surprised. You have a very old soul, Peter. You seem like you have everything figured out."

And here he'd thought her brother was the funny one. "What gave me away? The blue and red underroos?"

Her voice dropped even softer and he felt her hand settle on his knee. "Don't be hard on yourself. You took out Kraven the Hunter in one punch."

He shook his head. "I have more than one friend who's become a supervillain."

"You're a good guy, Mr. Parker." An invisible hand caressed his cheek. It felt nice. Like a cool breeze. "You should have parades and clothing lines and girls throwing themselves at you."

Peter snorted. "I do have the girl-throwing. Catching them is the problem."

"Wanna hear something funny? When I went looking for you, it was to get revenge on Reed. I was gonna fuck your brains out. Isn't that funny?"

"Hysterical."

Then she was kissing him. Invisible lips pressed to his, invisible hands caressed his body. He closed his eyes to stop seeing his tongue in her transparent mouth. Made him feel like Miley Cyrus.

She stopped. He imagined her looking at him, thinking I kissed that guy? But then she was kissing his neck and, well, damn—how was he not supposed to get an erection then? Seemed so rude...

"Just so you know, I am way too wired to be neurotic right now." Three hours of sleep, getting his ass kicked by the Shocker, and an AP History pop quiz. "If you want neurotic, you're going to have to be neurotic for both of us."

A few strands of hair whipped into his face and he realized she was shaking her head emphatically. "I'm twenty-five years old and I have a degree in molecular biology. I'm doing a dissertation for my second PhD right now. I don't want quantum theory right now. I want..." He felt her legs settle over his lap, her body straddling his. Got her point across. "God. When Johnny kept calling you Spider, I thought you'd be some scarred-up badass. I had no idea you were so cute without the mask on."

"Sue..." Her name tasted weird on his tongue. Not Mary Jane. "We're in a school. Anyone could walk in..."

"I'm invisible, babe. If anyone does come in—well, high schools are prisons for teenage boys. You can't be the first guy who's jerked off in here."

He felt her pulling his towel away. Like the Coppertone baby. When his cock rose into open air, he expected to feel a wave of recrimination, some feeling of betrayal toward MJ. Nope. Just that whistling descent into fun he felt when he jumped off a building.

When she pulled away, he let out an offended "Hey!" before feeling abashed. Yeah. Second thoughts. Why not? He reached for the towel.

"Keep that thing out in the open," Sue hissed. "I want to see how you like the show."

"Show?"

The pitcher emptied itself onto the sauna rocks, filling the room with billowing steam. The cramped space became an infinite expanse of smoke, populated only by himself and the silhouette in the swirling mist. Although the steam made her barely visible, it also outlined her—every nook and cranny. He could see her crop top as she pulled it off and made it into a real object instead of an imprint. Without it, her breasts stood high and firm. Even her nipples were visible, already jutting out from nothing more than the effect of a few kisses.

Then, as the steam settled, she bent to pull down her panties.

"Goddamn, you're pretty," he said. Could only think to say. "You're really, really pretty."

"Thanks." She stood there, disappearing again as the steam faded. "Peter... Peter, I'm naked."

"Yeah." He felt foolish.

"I've never been naked with anyone but Reed. But I've been naked with him a lot, so... who gives a fuck?"

She moved on him so fast that the remaining steam swirled with her passage, slapping into him, pressing him against the wall as she kissed him hungrily. He felt his hands still a moment, but then felt her cool fingers on the back of his neck; squeezing his ass. He returned the favor, feeling out her taut body by touch alone. Hell of a physique for a molecular biologist.

He and Mary Jane had had plenty of make-out sessions, but something about their intimacy had always made him reluctant to go further, take the next step. She always seemed receptive, but he never wanted to tempt rejection. So he always ended up pulling away, reminding her how late it'd gotten, and she went away and he jerked off in the shower. With Sue he didn't feel any such compunction. He touched her all over, her welcoming warmth seeming to hover in mid-air.

She followed suit, her touch running shockingly, daringly across his body. She delighted in his slender musculature—lanky arms full of biceps, slim chest packed with muscle—the small but steel-hard quads of his legs were squeezed hard, but her fingers barely sunk into his firm flesh. She made a little sighing noise of approval. Peter guessed it was a change of pace from Reed. Emboldened by her lascivious response, Peter clapped his hands onto her ass with a minimum of force.

"Hey, if you're going to slap it, slap it."

"Sorry." He wasn't going to slap it. Instead, he ran his palms up her sides to her breasts. He felt her lean back to accommodate him, though she took his hands in hers and kissed each in turn before pressing them to her chest.

There, she was full and in motion, tits heaving under his touch. He squeezed them carefully, but with growing force after the first time she moaned decadently. Her ghostly fingers ran up and down his outstretched arms, once more enjoying the feel of his trim muscles. One more cooing endorsement and he couldn't take it anymore.

Peter jerked his legs up, tilting her toward him, used his hands to play her breasts together, and buried his face in the tender warmth of her cleavage. There, he licked and kissed until he'd caught a little stone of a nipple in his mouth. When he sucked on it, the air rang out with Sue's loudest enjoyment yet.

Still, even he was taken by surprise when he felt a cool fingernail running along his cock, followed by the delicate grip of her hand. It felt like there was electricity under the surface of his cock. Peter could've fainted. He thought it must be a mistake. She'd grabbed him accidentally. Then she pumped once, slowly, describing his penis to the very tip before sinking back down to fit snugly at the base, so his dick seemed to be straining to burst free of her hold on him.

His lips had gone slack on her nipple. He was manipulated, her other hand gripping his chin and raising his face for her to kiss him. It took him a moment to respond to the kiss, not having been able to see her approaching. Peter felt like he was moving in slow-motion. As they kissed, Peter felt something warm—not warm, but heated—heated and wet—press against his manhood.

"Johnny said it was big, buh-buh-but I had no idea..." Sue stammered.

Peter realized two things in rapid succession, like a burst from his spider-sense. First, Sue was rubbing him against the lips of her pussy. Preparing to take him inside. Second...

"Johnny Storm's seen my dick?"

"You're the one who wears skintight spandex while he fights Electra. Shut up. Let me feel that thing a little..."

For once in his life, he shut up, trying to focus on kissing her—not an unpleasant task. It wasn't quite as special as kissing MJ was—missing that little spike of longing that went into him when he did and made him feel like his heart would burst. But the very anonymity of it had its own appeal.

He just couldn't concentrate when she was working over his cock like she was... push-pulling his shaft, loosening her grip so she barely skimmed him for a little while, then almost throttling him with heavy drags down his stalk. And sometimes she would just press him against her cunt, let him feel that wonderful moistness, and those were the times he wasn't sure he could breathe.

He stopped kissing her, just groaning and grunting as she actually bit his cheek, grinding her teeth on his skin as she fondled him. His cock was so hard it hurt, straining at the wetness she rubbed against it like it could will itself inside her. He felt half-animal; his body had her scent and it was seething for her. A spurt of precum slipped down his cockhead, coating her pistoning hand with a filmy layer of ejaculate.

Her teeth left his face, a void in the air in front of him as she backed up to display her now slightly visible hand. Her thumb smeared his seed into her palm, then, bit by bit, it disappeared. Peter wondered if her invisibility was growing over it, then a thick swath disappeared right from the middle of her hand. He realized she was licking it away, and he actually moaned aloud.

"We're gonna have to wrap this up," she said breathily

"Already?" Peter cried, suddenly feeling like punching a hole in a wall. Several walls.

"Your dick, smart guy."

He felt her weight shift as she reached over and fiddled with her pants, opening up the pocket and drawing out what looked like a condom wrapper, though it wasn't foil-wrapped. More like a wafer. Her weight left him entirely and the wafer rose as she stood with it in her hands, then she cracked it in half. The wrapper instantly expanded from being opened, one half slipping off and leaving a rather normal-looking condom sticking out of the other half. Sue pulled it free as easy as drawing a latex glove out of a box, feeling it out with her fingers a moment to open it up.

"Ever put one of these on before?"

Peter tried to think of a way to say no that wouldn't reveal his inexperience

or

make him seem like the kind of guy who didn't wear condoms. He just shook his head.

"Some guys are touchy about it. I'll put it on for you. I'm not trying to embarrass you."

"Cool," he responded. "Very cool."

"What're friends for?"

The condom hovered down to his cock, the expanse of latex meeting his tip, and Peter gasped, his pelvis instinctively thrusting forward as Sue's lips captured his penis in one unflinching gulp.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore. "I thought you were using your hands!"

Her only response was slurp her way up to the head of his cock and then gulp her way back down. This time he actually felt her chin touch his tightening balls. Peter reached between his legs and felt her golden hair bobbing in time with the waves of pleasure running up his body. He ran his hands through her soft, silky mane as she bathed him with her mouth.