My best friend is a Marvel Nerd - Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Author’s note: All my characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the characters.

Chapter 1

I wasn’t supposed to see it.

Gary’s door was supposed to be locked. It always was when he was doing something private —talking to girls, jerking off, reading comics, arguing with strangers in a Discord about what super hero win in a fight, or standing in front of the full-length mirror taking pictures in that stupid pose he thought made his arms look bigger.

We’d been living together since junior year. Same age. Twenty-four. Best friends since the first week of college, when he sat next to me in a film class, talked for forty minutes about the Raimi trilogy, and then asked if I wanted to split a two-bedroom because the dorms were killing him. Four years later we still had the same apartment. Same posters. Same argument about whether the MCU had jumped the shark.

Gary was the nerdiest guy I’d ever known. Glasses. Curly dark hair he kept pushing out of his face. A body he’d actually started taking seriously the last year, hitting the gym after work like it was a side quest. Marvel posters on every wall. Dozens of Funko Pops lined up like a shrine. The guy talks about Marvel all day long. Sometimes it’s exhausting…

And he had just bought a full Spider-Man suit.

Not the cheap Halloween kind. The expensive one. Super realistic with the coolest mask. The kind of fabric that clung to the chest and the thick muscle he’d built since he decided being a skinny comic guy wasn’t the look anymore. 

His girlfriend, Jenna, was in Europe for three weeks with her group of girl friends. He told me he was taking “fit pics” to farm aura on Discord and send some to her. Keep the spark alive while she’s away. Whatever.

I walked past his room to get a charger and the door wasn’t fully shut.

Gary was in the Spider-Man suit. And it blew my mind.

Mask off. Glasses still on. The top peeled down to his waist, the red-and-blue fabric bunched around his hips, and his cock was out. Hard. He was holding his phone in one hand, angling it, biting his lip the way he did when he was concentrating on something. The flash went off. Then again.

I should have walked away.

I didn’t. I was fascinated.

I stood there in the hallway like an idiot and watched my best friend take nudes in a Spider-Man costume for a girl who was currently eating gelato in Rome and probably being fucked by some random Italian dudes.

I have to admit I’m jealous of Jenna. Gary used to be just mine. I became a fan of Marvel just to have more time with him.

That was the night I made the fake account.

@marvelgurl2002. Blonde selfie I generated with AI. Bio that said Europe is boring, miss American dudes. I followed him. He followed back in four minutes.

The first message was easy.

hey. saw your spidey pics. you’re actually hot in the suit. Brand new day is a masterpiece.

Gary typed for a long time.

wait who is this

a marvel girl fan. don’t be mad. i just found you hot. ur aura is off the charts.

Do girls say aura? I have no idea.

He was quiet for eleven minutes.

Then a photo came through.

Gary. Full suit. Mask on this time. The bulge in the red fabric was obvious. He’d taken it in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, one hand on the doorframe like he was posing for a variant cover.

don’t share this.

I sat on my bed with the phone shaking in my hand and typed back like I was some girl who’d never seen a dick in her life.

holy shit. take the mask off?

can’t. that’s the rule. if i’m in the suit, the mask stays. i’m just your friendly neighborhood spider-man. lol 

Of course it was.

We went back and forth for days.

He sent more. Suit on. Cock out through the fly he’d clearly cut himself. The way the fabric framed it made it look worse — thicker, heavier, the kind of thing a guy like Gary pretended he didn’t think about. He had no idea of his power on me. 

He talked like a nerd even when he was horny. Called it his web-shooter. Called the suit the armor. Asked if I wanted to see the “symbiote version” next, which was just a black suit he wanted to buy next.

show me how hard it gets in the suit

you’re gonna get me in trouble, I have a girlfriend

you’re already in trouble. send it.

Another photo. Closer. The red fabric pulled aside. His hand around himself, glasses off, mask on, the bathroom light making everything look filthy and expensive at the same time.

i shouldn’t be doing this

then stop

He didn’t stop.

Every time he walked past me in the kitchen in a faded Avengers shirt, glasses slipping down his nose, I knew what was on his phone. I knew what he’d sent the fake girl. I knew my roommate, my best friend, the guy who still quoted Avengers End Game at breakfast, was jerking off in a Spider-Man costume and sending it to someone he thought was a stranger but was in fact his best friend.

Wednesday night he came out for leftover pasta with the suit still on under a hoodie, like he couldn’t be bothered to take it all the way off. The mask was in his hand. His curly hair was flattened from it. He sat across from me and talked about a new variant cover like nothing was happening.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah. Why.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m always weird.”

He snorted, pushed his glasses up, and went back to eating. Under the table I was hard enough to hurt. Across from me, my best friend had no idea he’d been sending me his dick for five days.

I waited until Jenna posted a story from a club in Barcelona.

Then I went for it.

i’m passing through your city next saturday. one night. motel off the highway. you come in the suit. mask on. i want to see if the pictures are real. wanna suck that web-shooter until it covers my whole face.

Gary went silent for almost an hour.

this is insane, I can’t

you’ve been sending me your dick for a week. i’m hungry for it

i have a girlfriend

she will not know. I bet you’re hard right now. i can’t wait to taste your web-shooter

Another twenty minutes.

room 214. the interstate inn. 11pm. if you’re not in the suit i’m leaving.

Saturday I got there at ten-thirty. Shaking like crazy from anxiety.

Cheap motel. Thin walls. A bedspread that had seen better decades. I put on a blonde wig. The lingerie I’d bought that afternoon — black, cheap, the kind of thing Jenna wore in the photos he kept on his lock screen. I left the lamp on low and sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

At 11:04 the door opened.

Gary stepped in dressed with the Spider Man suit like he was breaking into the a set of a movie. The lights were low and reddish.

Full suit. Mask on. The way it clung to his chest and the thick muscle of his thighs and chest made my mouth go dry. His version of Spider-Man was sexier in person than in the photos. The glasses were gone. The curly hair was trapped under the mask. Only his mouth showed through the fabric when he spoke, and even that was muffled.

“This is so stupid,” he said. “I shouldn’t even be here. I can’t cheat on her.”

I stayed in character. Voice a little higher. The wig already itching.

“Shut up and lock the door, Spider-Man. I need to be saved tonight.”

He locked it.

He stood there for a second, breathing hard behind the mask, looking at the blonde hair and the lingerie and the fact that the person on the bed was not, in any universe, his girlfriend. Not even in a multiverse.

Then I took the wig off.

Gary froze.

“David. What the fuck.”

My real voice came back.

“Yeah, surprise.”

He took a step back like I’d hit him.

“What the fuck. What the fuck is this. That’s — that’s my — is this a prank?”

“I know who I am. I made the account. I’ve been the girl the whole time. And it’s not a prank. I just find you the hottest guy alive and I’m tired of hiding it.”

He didn’t take the mask off. He just stood there in the red and blue, the bulge already obvious, his hands opening and closing at his sides like he didn’t know whether to punch the wall or leave.

“You’ve been sexting with me!” he said, voice wrecked. “I’ve been sending my best friend…”

“I know. Dick pics. And I’m so grateful for that. Your cock is perfect, dude. I watched you take the first ones. Door was open. You looked sexy as fuck. You’re hotter than Tom Holland in that suit. You should be the next Spidey.” I sad with a smile.

Gary made a sound that wasn’t a word.

“Take the mask off,” I said.

“No.”

“Then leave it on. I don’t care. I asked you to come in the suit. You’re in the suit. Jenna’s in Spain. You’ve been jerking off in that thing for two weeks.”

He shook his head. The white lenses of the mask stared at me.

“This is so fucked up.”

“I know.”

I got off the bed and went to my knees on the cheap carpet. The lingerie looked stupid now. I didn’t care, I took off the ridiculous bra and left only the panties that didn’t hold my huge erection. I reached for the fly he’d cut himself, the same one from the photos, and Gary’s hand caught my wrist.

He didn’t pull me away.

He just held it there, breathing hard, the suit creaking a little when his chest moved.

“David. Don’t. I’m horny as fuck for weeks. I will not be able to say no. You’re my buddy.”

“You’ve been sending it to me for a week,” I said. “You already did the worst part. Just let me finish it.”

His grip loosened.

I got the fabric open.

His cock was already hard. It was super perfect and beautiful. Big, white, veiny, cut, pink thick head, flushed, the same one from the bathroom photos, the one he’d been calling his web-shooter in the DMs like it was a joke. I wrapped my hand around it and he made a broken sound behind the mask.

“Fuck. Fuck. We can’t—”

I put my mouth on him.

Gary’s head went back. The mask stayed on.

“Fuuuuuck, dude!”

Both of his hands ended up in my hair like he didn’t know they were going there. I took him as deep as I could on the first try and he swore, low and wrecked, the nerd voice completely gone.

“That’s… that’s not… David… you’re my… fuck. Keep going.”

I didn’t stop.

He lasted about thirty seconds of trying to be the good friend. Then his hips started moving. Then his hands got tighter. Then he was fucking my mouth the way he’d wanted to fuck the fake girl in the DMs, the way he’d been thinking about since Jenna got on that plane.

“Don’t look at me,” he muttered. “Don’t — just — keep it down. Suck my Spidey cock.”

I couldn’t have answered if I wanted to.

He used my throat. The suit stayed on. The mask stayed on. Only his cock was out, wet, disappearing into my mouth while the red-and-blue fabric stretched across his hips. Every time he pushed deep I gagged and he groaned like it was killing him and he still didn’t pull back.

“This is so wrong,” he said, and kept going. “You’re my best friend and I’m — fuck — it’s the best blowjob ever. Don’t stop, dude, please.”

He sped up. The wet sounds filled the motel room. My eyes were streaming. The blonde wig and the black bra were on the floor next to us. Gary’s grip in my hair was the same grip he used when he was losing a game on his PS5 and getting pissed about it.

“God, your mouth — don’t stop — I always wanted to ask you for a blowjob since you tell me you’re gay… but I never got the courage…”

That almost made me pull off.

He didn’t let me.

He held my head and kept thrusting, the mask tilting down so he could watch, the raised webbing on the suit brushing my forehead every time he went deep. I could hear him breathing through the fabric. I could hear how close he was in the way his voice went thin.

“I’m a piece of shit for cheating” he whispered. “I’m a piece of shit but I don’t want you to stop, don’t you dare to stop, dude.”

I didn’t. I was in heaven sucking my crush since day one of college.

I took him deeper. Let him use me. Let the guy who’d explained the multiverse to me at two in the morning fuck my throat in a Spider-Man costume in a motel off the interstate.

“I’m gonna nut, dude. I can’t hold it anymore, David. Dude, here come the sticky spider webs. Just take it.”

He didn’t pull out right away.

He came with a sound that didn’t belong to any version of Spider-Man I’d ever watched, hips locked, pulsing across my tongue and then over my lips and my cheeks when he finally dragged himself out. Thick. Messy. Dripping down my chin. He stood there over me in the full suit, mask still on, cock still out, looking down at the mess on my face like he’d just committed a crime in every universe.

“Powerful spider webs, dude,” I said, stupid, because I couldn’t help it.

Gary made a noise that was almost a laugh and almost a sob.

Then he shoved his cock back into the suit, didn’t say another word, and went for the door.

“Gary.”

He didn’t turn around.

The door slammed. I heard his car start. I heard him pull out of the lot too fast.

I stayed on my knees on the motel carpet with his cum cooling on my face, the panties still on, the mask he never took off already halfway back to the apartment we still shared.

He was going to pretend this never happened.

I already knew I wasn’t going to let him… what can I say? I love Spider-Man and it’s going to be a brand new day for me and Gary.