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The Invisible Handjob	By : Ksennin Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Spiderman Views: 52206 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I own neither Ultimate Spider-Man nor any of the franchise's characters. I make no money from publishing this.

Chapter List
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Thank mutant God, his apartment in the city still had some liquor left from the last time he’d had to crash there. Logan sat in his easy chair—the one chair in the spider-hole—and drank from the bottle. Kid’s body wasn’t used to it. Nearly coughed it up. Logan forced more down.
Wasn’t like he could rightly get up to anything in some punk kid’s body; best if he just enjoyed his newfound ability to get drunk without a fucking healing factor harshing his buzz. Chuck would get him back into his own body some time, hopefully before he had to deal with the hangover. After the kid had gotten some from Red in his body, least he could do was deal with some pink elephants.
Then his phone rang. Not his phone—the one in the backpack he’d been lugging around for the kid, with the Star Wars ringtone. Groaning, he dug around in it, finally upending the bag and picking up the phone from the detritus. Mary Jane Watson. The redhead from detention. Well, far be it for Logan to spoil the kid’s chances with a red slice.
“Whaddya want?”
“Peter, turn on the news!”
Logan paused to take a drink. “Why?” he asked after he finished.
“There’s a hostage situation! Some crazy Kraven the Hunter groupies have taken people hostage!”
“Sucks to be them, I guess.”
Her voice went shrill with disbelief. “That’s your reaction to people being taken hostage?”
“No, that’s my reaction to Kraven the Hunter having groupies.”
Sensing he’d be in for some whining if he didn’t, Logan fetched his remote and turned the TV on. The Playboy Channel came on full blast, stereo surround sound, before Logan got the local news on. Sorry, kid. Gotta leave you hanging the bag on that one.
Yeah, he saw it. Two women calling themselves the Kravinoffs had taken a fucking zoo hostage and were demanding their boy toy be released to them. Cops were being useless. Ultimates were out of town. Looked like a job for Superman or some shit.
“Eh, SWAT can handle it. What d’ya think they get paid for?”
“Peter, now is not the time for your Spider-Man No More BS! Liz is in there!”
“Who?”
“Liz Allan! Our friend! Are you drunk?”
“You’re only drunk if you can’t handle your liquor.”
“God, Peter, I cannot deal with this right now! I spent half the day in detention, I might not even be straight, and now my best friend is being held hostage. Put on your costume and do something!”
“Wait, what wuz that about you being a lesbian?”
She hung up on him. Logan looked down at the pile of Parker’s shit on the floor. Yup, there was a costume.
No fucking way he was wearing that.
***
Unfortunately, Jean’s powers were too limited to pull the schematics to the device from someone in the know, but she could project her consciousness into the collars themselves and translate their inner workings into the projection of Peter’s room. A reproduction of the inhibitor collar, ten times life-size, appeared in the air above Peter’s bed.
“Cool. Can we, uh?” He gestured at it.
“What?” Jean asked.
“You know, like in Minority Report? Open it up and see the little holographic bits.”
“Not a computer, Pete. You want me to do something, you’re going to have to tell me what it is. And say please.”
“Alright. Give me a cross-section. Please.”
The collar dutifully split in two.
“And… spin it a little?”
It started spinning.
“Beautiful. Looks like—I’m not saying it is—it looks like the tech Reed Richards uses to control rowdy nonterrestrials.”
“Wow! Gee-whiz! You’re so smart!” Alison cheered mockingly. “How do we switch it off, brainiac?”
Peter propped himself up on one elbow. “It’s designed not to be turned off, unless you’re damn sure the Person of Mass Destruction you’ve slapped it on is done being a jerk. But Reed’s is designed with a crybaby circuit. It gets damaged or impaired in any way, it sends out a distress signal so even if the deactivation is authorized, SHIELD or whoever is in the loop. This doesn’t have that. It has—“
“An explosive,” Kitty finished. She sat down on the bed next to him. “I think you’re smart,” she whispered, most sincere.
He smiled at her. “So we don’t disable the collar. We disable the explosive. Then we just cut it off.”
“With what?” Piotr asked plaintively, then saw Peter holding up his hands. “Oh. Da. Your borrowed body’s adamantium claws. Yes. Forget I said anything.”
“Jean, think you have enough mojo to move this bit—“ Peter pointed into the halved collar. “Out of alignment?”
“It’ll look bad if I don’t try,” she shot back.
“Good. We do everyone’s before we start taking them off. I’ll go last.” He grinned a little fatalistically. “Not my body, after all.”
Kitty swooned a little.
***
In the holding cell, there was absolute quiet. The X-men did not even think loudly out of fear Jean would be distracted and set off a collar’s explosive charge. Fortunately, the X-Men had been drilled on going thoughtless. Unfortunately, Spider-Man had not.
“The theme to Tiny Toons?” Jean cried. “Really?”
“Sorry, I can’t stop thinking. I go to public school, it would make things a lot easier, but I just can’t!”
Allison pulled up her shirt. She was not wearing a bra.
Peter did not look away.
“Thank you,” Jean said, relieved.
The newfound silence was quickly shattered. From outside came a sound of hissing, fizzling, gnashing. Everyone’s ears pricked up, but only Peter spoke.
“What’s that?”
“SAM sites,” Piotr answered. “I smuggled them during my time with the Russian Mafia.”
Jean stood, giving her stiff neck a crack. She’d deactivated everyone’s collar but Peter’s, but this made her think they didn’t have much time. And if it went off, he did have a healing factor, after all… “Someone’s taking the fight to Genosha, which gives us our shot. Peter, cut us loose, fast.”
***
Like giving myself a haircut, Peter thought as he tried to get a claw into his tight-fitting inhibitor without snikting himself. It was a lot harder trying to do it to himself. When the wall turned into an unappetizing close-up of Mojo’s face, he gave himself a shaving nick.
“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” Mojo roared.
Peter frantically tried to wiggle a claw under his collar again. “Well, none of us list Jabba the Hutt as our thinspiration.” Jean gave him a quick psychic tweet: Stay in character. “…bub.”
“I see you still haven’t removed yours. Idiot! The others’ collars were just to keep them in line. If worst came to worst, I was only ever going to activate yours!”
“That’s stupid,” Allison observed. “He’s Wolverine. He can heal from anything. See?”
Using the amplified sound of Mojo’s breathing on the audio pick-up, she blew off Peter’s earlobe.
It grew back.
“I can still feel pain! Bub!”
“Idiots!” Mojo said again. “His collar doesn’t kill him! It doses him with an excess of dopamine. Oh yes, Logan, I’m well-aware of your berserker rages—the anger that comes with a lifetime of pain and regret! It’s already injected you! And with our custom serum flowing through your veins, you’ll kill everyone around you, friend or foe. We’ve already evacuated your sector and locked it down, so there’s no one else to face the beast except your team. Not that you’ll remember any of this in an hour’s time, but make sure to pre-order the Blu-Ray on our website in case you want to know which of your friends you cannibalized.”
Storm blasted the screen with a quick bolt of lightning. The cameras on the same circuit exploded in firecracker-pops.
Then Peter noticed everyone was looking at him.
“Look, guys, I really don’t have a berserker rage, so I don’t think this is going to do anything too extreme to me. Maybe I’ll just get real mad about the Phantom Menace again. Or maybe—“
Piotr pointed down.
Peter looked. His erection was pushing out the crotch of his pants so hard, he might as well have shoved a can of Pringles down there.
***
Colossus charged the cell door once more, bending the Carbonadium bars a little more. It was slow-going; the stuff was nearly as strong as Adamantium. Jean ignored the clang of Piotr’s organic steel body against their captivity. Reestablishing a psychic link-up with the X-Men was just as important.
She opened her eyes. “Alright, the other X-Men are okay. The Reavers have been called off them to deal with some kind of incursion. I’m getting a lot of secondary thoughts about the Brotherhood—“
Allison snorted. “Good to know your boyfriend finally showed.”
“He’s not my—“ “Not her boyfriend,” Jean and Storm said, almost at once.
“Whatever.”
“Nightcrawler’s on his way here now,” Jean continued. “Once he’s in, he can teleport us right outside. But first, I want to find the Professor. They’ve got him stashed somewhere in this building, so as soon as Colossus has the door down, we’re going to spread out and find him—“
A hinge came off the door, flying through the air to smack the ceiling. Jean took an involuntary step back and found herself pressed against Peter.
The last time she’d noticed him, he’d tucked himself into a corner with his hands over his crotch, apologizing even as Kitty tried to assure him it was okay. But obviously he’d taken a few steps away from the wall, because Jean could feel his cock right on her ass. God, it was so hard…
He wrapped his arms around her midsection, his stubble burning between her shoulder blades as he rubbed his face there. She could feel him right through her costume. The imitation material of the replica was far too cheap and far too thin.
“Peter…” she said gently, hoping the others hadn’t noticed.
“You’re so damn sexy,” he muttered, his voice seeming to vibrate into her where his chest pressed into her back.
His hand dipped down into her pants, fingers touching her revealing to them both how wet she was. She could feel his thought burning into her: knew you didn’t get enough.
Jean felt his other hand pulling down the seat of her pants. She could feel that thought too. It was on fire. He was going to fuck her from behind, like a dog. Like she was a bitch in heat.
“So… you guys need a minute?” Storm asked.
It was hard to tell who pulled away from who fastest. Peter backed in the corner again, covering his groin with his hands like he’d taken a punch there, while Jean practically hopped getting her pants back up around her waist.
“Sorry, sorry—“ Peter was saying.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Alison said.
“Animal-beast-thing,” Jean likewise explained.
“I’m so sure.”
Peter took a deep breath, for the first time noticing that Colossus had gotten the door open. “Listen, you guys go on, defend a world that hates and fears you without me. I’d just… distract you. I think I’ll stay here and think about baseball.”
“You could always… drochit,” Piotr said considerately.
“Uh, no offense, but on the long list of things I’d like to touch, Wolverine’s wang is way below ‘a dolphin’.”
“We can’t just leave him here,” Storm argued. “What if someone stumbles across him in this state and gets hurt? The boy has no experience controlling Logan’s urges.”
“Well, teenage boy, high school relationship—I’ve got some practice controlling urges.”
“I will stay,” Piotr said. “He cannot harm me.”
“Piotr, you’re our heavy hitter,” Jean said. “We’re going to need you on deck for this one.”
“I’ll stay,” Alison volunteered. “Everyone else has phenomenal fucking cosmic power, or is completely useless like Kitty.”
“Hey!”
“I can zap ‘im in the nads if he gets out of line.”
Peter made a face, but said nothing, agreeing with the necessity of it. Jean looked over her team, turning the idea over in her head. For once, Alison had a point, and no one else was volunteering. She signaled the other X-men to file out. “Just watch him. Try to talk him down. Keep his mind occupied. And keep your distance.”
“Not the first time I’ve needed to deal with a horny Canadian with the mind of a teenage boy,” Alison said. “Go. Do your lame Superfriends thing.”
Jean left hurriedly with the others. She didn’t want to linger on this. She’d gotten Peter into this situation, and if he came out of this having traumatized himself or anyone else, she’d never forgive herself.
As soon as they were gone, Alison walked across the cell to where Peter was crouched. She sat down on her haunches and looked him in the eye.
“Thank you for doing this, Alison,” he said distantly.
She smiled at him, running her hands through her spiked hair. “Call me Ali.”
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The Invisible Handjob