Blood by My Hand

A/N: Alex: Hey, I really like that last little sentiment. I’ve never thought about it quite that way before.
Superbang: I am. And when are you going to update next, hmmmm? ;} Don’t forget this and Concubine are co-written, so NdP is assisting in making you cringe.
Moyima: Thank you very much, and yes they are *grin*

My only problem with the Ultimate Series is that I don’t think Peter’s motive for the letting the robber go was very solid, but we did the best we could with it.


Otto groomed himself in the bathroom before dressing and returning to the lab. It wasn't to work on the webbing project, though he did move a couple of things related to that project into better storage areas. No, in fact, it was related to another upgrade project, more or less. He wanted to take a look at his mutation. He hadn't really gotten a chance to do that, and he couldn't help but wonder. All he really did was look at a blood sample, run some basic tests. It was really just an activity to fill up a couple hours. Watching the clock with one camera, he finally wrapped it up and went downstairs to clean up the kitchen and make dinner. More frozen food brought back to life via the microwave. When it was done, he made the trek down the stairs and opened the door.

Peter looked a little surprised to see him, once again sitting on the cot with his chemistry book. "Where's Osborn?" he asked.

Otto didn't even attempt small talk, brief and to the point. "Upstairs. Dinner?"

Somewhat nervously, because this was a change in the barely-established routine, Peter shut his book and set it aside, giving Otto a wide berth and heading up the steps. Wordlessly, Otto followed him and took his usual seat at the table, watching the boy with a tentacle in case he tried something. He didn't, merely going to his place. Where was Norman? He looked around for the madman, hardly being subtle.

Noting his actions, Otto answered the unvoiced question without lifting his human eyes from his plate. "I told you. He's upstairs."

"Why?"

"Nothing sinister, just didn't feel like coming down." There was a shrug in Otto's voice.

Peter clearly found that strange. He ate hungrily, though, clearing his plate this time, keeping his mouth full to avoid conversation. The only sounds, in fact, were the silver serpents occasionally sliding across the floor. Otto ate at his own pace, apparently glad the boy didn't feel like talking, but at least one artificial eye remained on him at all times. Peter eyed them. "Those are new."

"They are." Otto refilled his glass of water at the sink as he took his last bite of food and leaned back in the chair, actually looking at the boy this time, as if trying to read him.

"You didn't have them when you captured me at the school."

A shrug. "I was bored." His eyes switched to Peter's empty plate and, though the answer seemed obvious, he said, "You done?"

"Yeah." He got up and headed for the stairs.

Otto didn't move from the table, the tentacles putting the plates by the sink as another opened a cupboard. He'd told Norman he'd try to be nice... "Do you like Oreos?"

Peter looked back at him. "Well, yeah...."

The claws produced and opened a package of double-stuffed Oreos. "Kingpin likes his junk food." Otto took a cookie from the packet and took a bite, a tentacle holding the rest out to Peter.

He took them gingerly, watching for the trick. "This is Kingpin's place?"

"Just what Norman told me."

"Huh." He ate a cookie, leaving the stairs to walk around the room.

The tentacles were at attention, eyes mostly on the boy as they looped aimlessly through the air. Since something in the usual pattern had changed, Otto decided to try nudging the threshold of the situation. At first he couldn't decide what to say, but eventually settled on, "How did you balance it?"

"How did I balance what?"

"School and Spider-Man. New York has a rather high crime rate. You couldn't have been out there all the time." It was something Otto had wondered since he'd made the connection between this boy and Spider-Man.

"Oh." He picked apart a second Oreo. "I just stopped sleeping."

A nod. "A trifle that must unfortunately be dealt with, sleep..." Otto ate another cookie. Speaking of which... He glanced at the clock, wondering if he should check on Norman or wait until morning. The man could take care of himself, and yet Otto was somehow... concerned, perhaps?

"He's not upstairs, is he?" Peter asked, paranoid. "He's out doing something."

Otto smiled and shook his head. "He's upstairs, I assure you. Honestly, you're as paranoid as I am..."

"Well, yeah." Peter almost smiled. "If I weren't paranoid, I'd be dead."

"Such is life." Otto stood up. "Ready to go back downstairs?" He wanted to watch the news, see if there was anything about Parker's kidnapping, but he didn't want the boy to see it, lest it rile him up again.

"Could I stay up here for a while? It's kinda cold downstairs."

The idea was to make Peter comfortable, but it made Otto a little uncomfortable. They'd made progress, though, and sending him down against his will would be counter productive. "I suppose we'll have to fix that, then." He turned for the kitchen door, a tentacle gesturing that the boy should follow him.

Which he did, grabbing a few final Oreos and leaving the package on the table. He did want to see the rest of this house. The entry hall came out on a formal sitting room. On one side was the door to the kitchen, and the stairs went up the wall on the other side. There was a second door, though, and this was the one Otto went through. It opened into another sitting area, this one with an impressive entertainment system on one wall.

The bomb shelter very likely had its own climate control system, and Otto would look into later. He'd been out of it for a long time and he wanted see what was going on in the world, what he'd missed. He sat on the couch and picked up the remote with a tentacle, finding a news channel.

Peter took a seat as far away from Otto as he could, looking around the room for anything he could use to escape. He had no interest in the television until a familiar voice caught his attention.

There was an old woman on the screen. She didn't look too well, as though she hadn't slept in a while. "It's quiet here without him..." the old woman, May Parker, was saying, "I just... I don't understand why it had to be him..." Her voice broke off for a moment.

"What would you say to his kidnappers if they're watching this?"

May looked at the camera. "Peter's such a good boy, he's the only family I have left. I've already lost my husband... I'll give anything to get Peter back safely... Anything..."
And then they switched to a map of New York, showing where they'd last seen the helicopter and the direction it had been heading. Though Otto's human eyes were on the screen for all of this, the moment the story had come on his main focus had switched to Peter, watching him subtly through an artificial eye.

Peter was staring at the screen, his face colorless, hands clenched into tight fists. He didn't even move when his Aunt went off the screen. "Aw, Aunt May..." he breathed. "I'm so sorry...."

The TV moved on to a commercial break, promising a story about overweight house pets when the show came back. Otto wasn't interested in it anymore, though, turning his eyes to Peter. "When did your uncle pass?"

He swallowed, blinking rapidly. "None of your business."

Otto raised an eyebrow, but didn't push the issue, turning off the TV and standing up. Considering he hadn't slept last night, it was getting late. "You should go to bed. I'll fix the temperature problem in the morning."

"Can I call her?" he asked, suddenly looking as young as he was.

The doctor just shook his head. They'd have a tracer on her phone, any how.

"Come on. Just a short one, to tell her I'm all right?"

"No," Otto stated firmly. "Not yet." He wasn't the only one making the decisions around here, of course, and maybe Norman might let the boy call some day, but Otto had no intention of changing his stance at the moment.

"But soon? Come on, she's an old lady, and I'm all she's got."

And she probably had caller ID as well... "It's time for you to go back to your room," was Otto's only response.

He slumped, shoving his hands in his pockets and turned to go back towards the basement. At least it was heartening to know that they were looking. And there'd been no sign that they knew who he was, which was also good.

Otto snagged the blanket from the back of the couch and followed the boy down to lock him in, leaving the blanket. Then he went up to bed himself, being as quiet as he could as he passed Norman's door. Apparently he'd have quite a bit to tell him in the morning.

Norman was still asleep. He did nothing by halves, apparently. He didn't wake until late the next morning, coming slowly out of his sleep like a cat. Stretching, he went looking for Otto.

He was in the lab with bits of electronic equipment laid out in front of him. The wireless receivers for the dismembered security cameras were among them. Though his comment about recording what the tentacles saw had been half in jest, he wanted to see if he really could do it. They were useful tools, but they were also becoming something of a hobby.

Norman got two cups of coffee and brought one to the scientist. "Did you sleep?"

"Yes. Went to bed relatively early." He passed the task one hand was involved with off to a tentacle and took the cup. "We actually made a little progress last night, I think."

"You and Peter?" He sat down, leaning on the table.

"I didn't try to talk to him much, really. He finished his dinner, made a comment or two about the upgrades..." A shrug. "When he started to go back to the basement, I offered him cookies and he actually stayed up there on his own for a quite a while. I had to tell him to go back down when I got tired."

"No more escape attempts?" He smiled, pleasantly surprised.

"Well, he does want to call his aunt. There was a story about his kidnapping on the news, and he wants her to know he's all right." A pause. "Apparently his uncle died. It might be a sensitive point, but he wouldn't talk about it."

"Mmm." Norman sipped his coffee, thoughtful. "That's recent. I spoke to the man immediately after the incident with the spider."

"Huh." The tentacles switched tools. "Perhaps you're on to something there."

"I'll ask him about it. Perhaps.... Guilt is a powerful tool, after all."

He glanced at the clock. "Do you think he's awake? I told him I'd adjust the climate control in the shelter today."

"How late did he go down?"

"Around ten, but he could have fallen asleep later than that."

Norman nodded. "I'll make breakfast and then fetch him." He drained his mug and got to his feet.

"I'll be down if a few more minutes, when I reach a stopping point. By the way," here he looked up at Norman, "how did you sleep last night?"

"Very deeply," he said with a small smile. There had been a great deal of odd dreaming, but he was used to that.

"Good," Otto smiled back. "I'll see you in a few." And his attention turned back to his project. Norman touched his back briefly, and then headed down the stairs. Ten minutes later, Otto managed to tear himself away and went down to the kitchen. Fixing Parker's problem shouldn't take long at all, and after that he'd have the rest of the day to work on his own toys.

Norman was making pancakes. This odd strain of domesticity that rose when he didn't have people jumping at his beck and call had always amused him. Peter was sitting at the table, looking through a history text book now.

Otto shot Norman a sideways look and a half smile as he crossed the kitchen and descended the basement stairs. Peter watched them warily from the corner of one eye. History wasn't his favorite, but he didn't want to ask them for anything either, so he went with what he had. Maybe this would be over before he had to resort to his math book. He didn't mind math, but it didn't make for particularly interesting reading.

Norman put a plate of pancakes in the middle of the table and looked at Peter. "Eat. After breakfast, we can find you more books."

Peter obeyed. He really was hungry, and finding him more books, if he cooperated, implied that he might get to see the rest of the house. He was also thinking about his aunt, though. Otto had said no, but Norman might be a little more open to bargaining. The only question was how to broach the subject... "Um... Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" Norman took the seat opposite him with a cup of coffee. "Ask away."

"I was just wondering... I saw my aunt on the news last night and I was wondering if I could call her? You know, just so she knows I'm not dead or anything..."

"A few more days," he said, watching Peter over the rim of his cup. "We can arrange something." Unspoken was the coda: If you cooperate.

"But she's all alone... and..." and this part sounded selfish in the grand scheme of things, but the boy couldn't help worrying, "...what if while they're poking around looking for me they find out I'm Spider-Man?"

"It hardly matters," Norman said mildly. "You've outgrown the Spider-Man identity. Leave it behind."

"But it's not that simple..."

"Why not?" He wanted to see the boy put thought into this.

"It's kind of personal... But, still, people with a grudge against Spider-Man might also go after the people I know, anyway..."

"And you want to tell your aunt before the authorities do?"

"I don't want her or the authorities to find out at all," he answered quietly.

"There's nothing you can do about that."

"There would be if you let me go," he suggested. "Please, she's all alone..."

"Oh, I'm sure she's not." He seemed so calm about all of this this morning. "Fury's men are surely there, watching her with all the care they assigned to you. Tapping her phone, logging her visitors...."

That was very likely true. Fury already knew who he was, and Peter knew he wouldn't make it easy for the identity of Spider-Man to get out. "You said I could go home if I cooperate?"

"Eventually, yes. Once we're done here."

"But I can't stop being Spider-Man..."

"Of course you can. That's a child's game, Peter."

"I told you. It's more complicated than that."

"Only because you don't understand yet. Once you do, you can leave."

Near as Peter could tell, all Norman wanted was for him to drop the hero gig, but he still didn't know why. "No offense, but I think you're the one who doesn't understand."

Norman got up to refill his mug, and offered some to Peter with a gesture. "Tell me, then. What is it I'm not understanding?"

"Is there anymore orange juice?" It was half to try to avoid Norman's question.

"I'm afraid not."

"Just water then, please?"

He nodded and brought him a glass. "So. Tell me."

"I told you I didn't want this. Things kind of snowballed and... Now there's just too much tied up in it to quit."

"Tell me about the snowballing." He added sugar to his own coffee, stirring as he watched the boy.

"It's personal," Peter said quietly, focusing on his food instead.

"This is a personal discussion."

"The only person I ever told was MJ. Why would I tell you?"

"Tell me why you do what you do, and I will tell why I am what I am."

Peter took a bite of pancake and contemplated the man across from him. If he cooperated, he could go home. Home to May, and MJ. "Did you know Flash Thompson? He was on the basketball team with Harry..."

"I believe I've heard the name."

"He picked a fight with me, and I didn't want to, but he wouldn't stop. All I did was put my hand up to block a punch, but it was after the spider thing, so I accidentally broke his hand..."

Norman smirked, rubbing a place where Peter had hit him in the past. "I can believe that."

"It wasn't my fault, but his family was going to sue mine if we didn't pay the hospital bill, and since we don't have any money..." A shrug. "Spider-Man was a wrestling persona I used to get money."

Norman nodded. "I've seen the clippings. Seemed you made a fair living that way."

The boy shrugged and drank some water. He was getting too close to the more personal aspects of his story, and he was still a reluctant to share. "Some money disappeared and they accused me of stealing it. They wanted to know who I really was, so I had to quit."

"That would hardly inspire anyone to fight crime."

Peter shook his head. "It was a stupid, childish thing... I..." He bit his lip and drew lines in the syrup on his plate, watching it slowly close back behind the fork.

"Tell me the whole reason, Peter." Norman's voice was quiet in the still house.

"There was this guy, robbing a store. I could have stopped him, but I was just mad about everything that had been happening lately, and I wanted to take it out on someone... I dunno... It just makes letting him go that much more stupid, you know? Because I can't even think of an excuse for it..."

"So you saw a robbery happen." Norman was clearly waiting for more. "And you let him go because you... felt sympathy for him, as an accused criminal yourself?"

Again with the headshake. "It doesn't matter. Stopping him would have been the right thing to do, and I didn't. Even if I had just been at home instead of sulking around feeling sorry for myself, I might have..." He tightened his jaw to keep it from trembling.

"That's not the whole story," Osborn said sternly.

When Peter looked up, his eyes were wet with restrained tears. "He shot my uncle, okay? Is that what you want to hear? And I could have stopped it, and I didn't, and I don't even have a good excuse for not stopping it!"

Norman didn't say anything at first. He stirred his coffee thoughtfully, and gave the boy a moment to calm himself. "You blame yourself for this."

"The last thing he told me was that great power comes with great responsibility, and I yelled at him and ran away. That's why I have to be Spider-Man, because I owe it to my uncle."

"Did he know, about the strength and the wrestling?"

Peter sighed and wiped at his eyes. "They knew something was bothering me, but I don't think either of them knew what. So..." He sniffed once and swallowed before looking up. "I explained myself. You said you'd explain yourself."

"You're not done. What do you owe to your uncle?"

"Using my power to help people."

"You think he'd want you to be doing something so incautious that you have to conceal it from your own aunt?"

"Better than using it to hurt people."

"But you are hurting people."

"At least I try to be good. When was the last time you ever did anything honest?"

"I'd say I'm honest ninety percent of the time, actually." He didn't appear offended. "It's just rather spectacular when I'm not."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Just a moment ago. I doubt any loving guardian would choose to allow a young man like you waste undeniable brilliance on a career that a sledge hammer could pursue, and endanger not only his life, but the lives of his loved ones while doing so." He sounded deadly sincere.

"I know it's dangerous, but I'm stuck now. Even if I do quit, people who know who I am will still come after me. I'm stuck now. You see? I can't stop."

"Of course you can. Not alone, perhaps, but you can stop."

"Well I know this can't go on forever, anyway. I'm an illegal mutant. Apparently when I turn eighteen, I'll belong to the government." Or at least that's what he'd gathered from Fury's words.

A scowl crossed Norman's face. "To Fury."

"Or something like that." A weak smile. "Honestly, I'm not too thrilled with the idea..."

For part of this conversation, Otto had been listening from the stairs, trying to decide when it would be safe to go out. Norman was making progress, certainly. Finally, here, he decided it was safe to interrupt, and he walked into the kitchen, even though he didn't speak just then.

Norman glanced over at him. "There are more pancakes, Otto." And back to Peter. "They don't have the right to do that, you know." Otto watched them with a tentacle as he got some food.

Peter shrugged. "I guess they do, or will. It's better than being arrested for something I didn't have any control over, though."

"But it amounts to the same thing," Norman pointed out. "Do you honestly think you'll get to have another moment of say in your own life?"

"I don't have much say in my own life now."

"Not at this moment, no. But you deserve more than what they'll give you."

"See, and if that spider thing had never happened, my biggest worry at this moment would be the English test on Monday. Do you understand my position now?"

"If that spider thing had never happened, Peter, I would be still in my lab, running half-successful tests on seagulls and rhesus monkeys."

"Instead of hiding out in a crime lord's house after breaking out of prison? If I had to chose, I'd take option A."

"But I'd be only human. So I'm rather grateful to that spider, and to you."

"Being human was less complicated, I think."

"But fewer options. We have the world open to us, Peter."

"Hm. Doesn't always seem like that." Peter got up to take his dishes to the sink, stepping over one of the metal snakes as it slithered across the floor. Otto hadn't said a word since he'd come down, sitting at the table and eating in silence.

"Think about what we've discussed, Peter." Norman got to his feet, leaving his coffee cup. "Did you want to get some books?"

"Yeah." Peter turned to follow Osborn.

Norman led him through the room he'd seen before into a study. "Take your pick."

Peter began scanning the shelves. He could feel Norman watching him, and it was a little awkward in the silence, so he said, "Is Ock always that quiet?"

"He's a rather focused man." Norman browsed the shelves himself.

"Seems like it would get boring being stuck in a house with someone like that." Peter took a book down to scan the back of it.

"He's brilliant. It makes up for a lot of shortcomings." Norman's smile was complicated.

"Hm." Peter fell silent. It was uncomfortable, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You might like this." Norman held out a thick book to Peter. Les Miserables.

"What's it about?" Peter asked, taking it slowly, still half expecting a trick to pop up somewhere.

"A man who makes a few mistakes."

It looked a little long, but he imagined he'd have a lot of time to himself over the next few days. "I'll take a look at it." He tucked it under one arm, but made a couple more selections off the shelf anyway, just in case. Norman ushered him back to the stairs once he was done. Peter went along without resistance. The temperature was more comfortable when he descended the stairs, but he was beginning to find the actual house more preferable, even if he did have to share it with a couple of lunatics.

Another day, perhaps, and Norman would be comfortable letting him stay upstairs. Once the door was closed, Peter settled onto his bed and picked up the book Norman had given to him, contemplating it. He couldn't help but think Osborn was trying to pull something, no matter how innocent this seemed. All well. He opened to the first page. Osborn went back upstairs, quiet, as he always was after time with Peter. But smiling.

Otto had finished eating at about the time the other two had gone off to get the books. After cleaning up his place, he'd gone back upstairs again. He was so close to being finished with the receiver, and he could hardly wait to see if it worked.

Norman reclaimed his cold coffee and took the mug upstairs to find Otto. First place he looked, of course, was the lab. And, of course, the doctor was in there, his back to the door, hunched over the organized tangle of electronic components. A tentacle spied Norman and made an odd waving gesture but Otto didn't turn around. Norman didn't stop, just strode straight up behind him and wrapped his arms around the other man. "You're not busy."

"Well, I'm almost finished..." Otto smiled. Two tentacles were doing most of the work.

"No, you're taking a break." His hands slipped under his shirt. "Now."

The two tentacles didn't stop, but Otto looked at him through one of the free cameras. "I would have thought you'd rather I finish this first," he teased.

"See if you can finish before I distract you too much." Norman's mouth found his neck, nibbling and biting.

"We are the master of multitasking," he grinned, tilting his head slightly. "I highly doubt it would be too much of a challenge..."

"Mmm." Norman smirked against his skin and slipped open the fly of his pants, a hand sliding inside.

Watching the project with the tentacles, Otto closed his eyes and tilted his head back against Norman's shoulder. Now this was mixing work and play.

One hand wrapped around him while the other pushed down his pants, caressing his thigh. "I should tell you to take these off."

His hips twitched but his artificial counterpart continued unaffected. "And why do you say that?" Otto looked over his shoulder at the other man.

"Unfair advantage." One that he rather enjoyed, but still. Norman kissed him deeply, stroking infinitesimally slowly.

Though he didn't mention it to Norman, Otto knew he'd get more done by separating from them, so he did. He shifted a little, not breaking the kiss, and the back of the harness opened. Otto moved back a couple steps, pushing Norman back as well when he did so.

Norman turned him around, kissing him harder. "That's better, now...."

"Hm..." Otto kissed Norman on the neck, a hand running up his back, but he didn't get too aggressive. Norman started this, so Norman would have to take charge of it. Otto had taken charge last time, anyway.

Norman backed against the wall, pulling Otto with him. "On your knees..." he murmured against his neck.

An eyebrow rose, even though Norman couldn't see it. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything."

Otto smirked devilishly. "What if I refuse?"

Norman bit his neck and then pushed him down. Otto only looked up at him, teasing him with that coy raised eyebrow expression. Norman bared his teeth in a smile, looking down. "Now, this is a view I quite enjoy."

The scientist gave him a half smile and ran a hand up Norman's thigh. He so enjoyed teasing the other man, and yet he was rather tempted to show off a bit too... The urge to show off won out, so he leaned forward to tongue open the button on Norman's pants.

Norman grinned, sliding his hands into Otto's hair. "Good man." Otto pulled down the zipper with his teeth and his finger tips caressed Norman lightly through the fabric of his underwear. He smiled, running his fingers through his hair. "Yess...." He continued to touch Norman with his hand, not taking it any further, watching his face. "Take it further, Otto. You know what to do."

"I do, but what do I stand to gain from it, hm?"

"Oh, bargaining now?" Otto smirked and shrugged with one shoulder. Norman leaned down to murmur, his lips brushing Otto's ear. "I'll let you fuck me into the floor again, holding me down with those clever arms."

"Oh, no, you know what I want..." Otto whispered back.

"And before that," Norman continued. "I'll suck you dry."

He grinned. "There you go." And by then, he should be ready to test his new toy, too.

Norman stood up again, pulling Otto's face close to his hips. "I indulge you."

"I'll see if I can make it worth your while." Otto pulled down Norman's pants. He still started out just running his hand up and down the shaft, but after a bit he leaned forward and ran the tip of his tongue up the underside. A trial lick.

Norman shivered happily, his hands tightening. "M'sure you can."

Using his lips, Otto nibbled down the side, stopping at the base to suck a little while his thumb massaged the head. He wanted to take it a bit slowly, kind of build it up. That, and he hadn't quite decided how he felt about this himself.

Norman's hands were fisted in his hair now, but he was still letting him choose the pace. "Yes... right there."

He opened his mouth a little more and used his teeth just lightly, grazing them over Norman's flesh. The soft, barely there nips continued up to the tip of Norman's cock.

Osborn pushed forward, just a little. "Good...."

Octavius still took his time, teasing the head with just his tongue for a bit before taking it into his mouth. Sucking, he took in a little more and then drew most of the way off, repeating this action a couple times. Norman shivered, running his hand through Otto's hair to cup the back of his skull. He wouldn't last long this time. The doctor continued to fuck and stimulate Norman with his mouth, occasionally using his hands and fingers as well. It may not have been something he'd done before, but he still knew the right places to touch.

Leaning back against the wall, Norman came, thrusting into Otto's mouth as he moaned. Otto swallowed it neatly, not spilling a drop. When he was done, he grabbed Norman's shirt and tugged. Unspoken was 'get down here.' A moment of token resistance, and Norman collapsed gracefully beside him, grinning unrepentantly.

Leaning close, Otto purred in Norman's ear, "I believe we had a deal..."

Norman turned to kiss him. "I may have to be reminded."

The tentacles moved away from the table and twisted around Osborn as Octavius stood up. His hand took a firm grip on Norman's jaw and lifted his chin. "Suck me off." All six eyes were on the other man, watching him from every angle.

Norman's grin was perfectly evil, the picture of a bound demon. "Since you asked so nicely." Otto let go of his chin and ran his fingers through Norman's hair and behind his ear. The mad man's eyes never left Otto's as he leaned close and, using his tongue to great advantage, took him into his mouth.

The ghost of a smile pulled at one corner of Otto's mouth as his hand moved around to the back of Norman's head, pushing lightly. The tentacles writhed slightly on Norman's torso, the metal almost unnaturally cool.

Norman steeled himself, not letting Otto push him as he licked, sucking lightly. He had one hand free, and it slid up Otto's leg, lying warm on the inside of his thigh.

He sighed contentedly, almost purring as his eyes slipped closed. It was odd, how the four different images of his partner came together in his head. As Otto's fingers dug into the back of Norman's neck, he distantly wondered how the image would translate to video.

He used his fingers to complement his mouth, fondling and stroking, always with the edge of teeth and nails to heighten the sensation.

"Mm... yes..." Otto just let himself enjoy the warm tingle of the pyrokinetic's touch for a while, his hips twitching slightly. He was getting close, but before he finished off the tentacles moved again, pushing Norman into a different position. He'd decided it was time for the second half of their deal. Osborn let himself be manipulated, rocking back towards Octavius in the arms' grip. Otto knelt behind him, not entering right away. "Impatient?" He grinned, fingers ghosting down Norman's spine.

"It's my nature," he panted, the scars there twisted under Otto's hands.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I can't tease you about it." His hands settled on the other man's hips as he positioned, entering very slowly.

Norman's back arched, breathing shallowly through his mouth as he pushed back against him. Control. He was still in control of himself.

Otto closed his eyes and watched Osborn's face as he ground his hips against him. Amused at the correlation with the third person perspective and enthralled with the feeling of the other man's skin, his human hands touched and explored. His eyes closed to a slit, Norman ground back, increasingly warm under Otto. Smiling at his expression, Otto dipped his head to graze his teeth across the back of Norman's neck. There was the taste of salt, the faint smell of fire. He fucked him harder, rougher.

He provoked a growl, and Norman bucked under him. "Hn, yesss...."

Otto breathed harder, his breath warm on the back of Norman's neck. One of the tentacles moved to watch what he was doing between Norman's legs. With a groan, he let himself go, thrusting slow and deep a couple times as he filled Norman's orifice.

Osborn would have given a great deal to see through Otto's eyes, reaching back to hold Otto as deeply within himself as he could.

When he finished, Otto lay along Norman's back for a moment, arms around the other man's waist, catching his breath. Finally he murmured, "So... would you like look at the video now or save it for later?" Honestly, this was a trial run. Though he was almost arrogantly confident in his own abilities, he still expected to have to tweak things here and there. Especially since his attention had been divided during the project's completion.

"You taped this?" He turned his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at Otto.

"I told you we are the master of multitasking," Otto smirked, extricating himself from Norman. "But I either need to plug it into a computer or the television to view it, and I must warn you I'm not certain how the images will translate yet. I tried to set it up to divide them into four separate images."

"Mmm." Norman brushed the arms off of himself, getting to his feet. "We'll see."

Two tentacles dragged Otto's pants back over while two others reached for a laptop he'd found during his earlier rummagings. He stood, dressing, and returned to the table where his new toy waited. The tentacles were already connecting the two devices with a fire wire.

Norman found his clothes and cleaned himself off before getting dressed, following Otto to see him set the devices up.

Turning on the computer, Otto found the input for the recorder and transferred the video to the laptop, playing it from there. The images were divided up properly, even though they weren't always clear. He'd have to work on that.

Norman wrapped his arms around his waist, his chin on Otto's shoulders as he watched. "Mm. Very good."

"Better than I expected the trial run to be." He put one hand on Norman's, leaning back against him. "I haven't really devised any practical purposes for it, but I suppose things don't always have to be practical..." He frowned a little at that, though. He liked everything to have a logical purpose, if he could assign one to it, and he'd undoubtedly keep working on one for this.

"I'm sure there are many," Norman assured him. "There are any number of applications for an extra set of eyes."

"Yes, but recording what they see... I can already see what they see... don't know why other people would need to see it..." A shrug followed by a small smile. "All well."

"Training purposes, recording experiments. Quite a few."

"Hm." Otto turned his head and gave Norman a light kiss on the cheek before his eyes strayed back to the screen again. He smirked a little watching Norman suck and lick him. "You know, you're surprisingly good at that." It wasn't like he had anyone else to compare to, but all the same...

"S'not as if it's difficult," he purred, biting gently at Otto's neck. "You're easy to please."

He chuckled. "Or maybe you're just lucky I don't have anything else to compare it to."

"Mm." He held him tightly, and then let go, straightening. "I suppose you have to get back to work?"

He debated between the recorder and the webbing solution for a minute. The former was a toy. The latter had a more practical application. An acidic solution could do it, of course, but he wanted it to be something he could keep in a squirter on a tentacle. Perhaps something that would activate on contact with the webbing. Of course he'd probably have to replace one of the other four weapons, and... He decided to let the tentacles work on the recorder by themselves. If they, er, he could do it while he was having sex with Norman, than he could do it while he was working on the other project. "Yes, I suppose I will," he finally said out loud. "Though I could probably use another set of hands..."

"Oh? Then by all means. The webbing project?"

He nodded, leaving the tentacles to their business as he went about getting what he needed, relaying a version of his earlier thoughts regarding the webbing to Norman, but added, "Speaking of which, how much longer were you planning on keeping the boy locked up?"

"In a hurry?" Norman snagged a notepad and took down a few notes. "It's only been three days."

"The opposite, actually," he admitted. It wasn't that he had such little faith in Norman's manipulation abilities, but if he had it his way, Spider-Man would never see the light of day again. He was still a little mad at Hammer and Spider-Man for the position he was in today, even if he'd mostly come to terms with it. "But, I am curious about the time frame, for preparation purposes."

"Hopefully, by the end of the week."

Otto nodded and leaned over a microscope. "I see. Should be time, then." The days continued on like that, them allowing Parker a little more time above ground, supervised of course. The boy was reserved but cooperative. Also, Otto was finding--in such close quarters and without so many deadlines to distract him--there really was something he couldn't help liking about Norman, and he began consciously making an effort to find time for him. Norman encouraged it, drawing Otto repeatedly away from his work for other activities. He had no projects of his own, after all, save Peter's slow conversion.

The boy only cooperated in hopes that Osborn would let him call home, or at least let him have his pictures back. He wasn't exactly scared anymore, though. If they really, really wanted to hurt him or his loved ones, they would have done it by now. His only worry was for May, still alone and in the dark about everything. After a week, Norman came down into the basement and told Peter to gather his things. Peter just stared for a minute before moving to comply. It didn't take long. He didn't have too very much down there. "Are we going somewhere?"

"You get to move upstairs with us," Norman said, smiling. "I'm sure you've had enough of this pit."

It was a good sign, and Peter smiled a little in return. "Pretty much, yeah."

"There's a room upstairs you can have." Norman led the way.

Peter eyed the house as he followed Norman through it. He still hadn't seen the uppermost floor yet, even though he was pretty familiar with the ground floor layout. On the way down the hall he asked, "Which room's yours?" Norman nodded towards a closed door, directly across from the top of the stairs. Peter’s was directly next to it.

Somewhere inside, Peter couldn’t help being disappointed by this information, but he kept it to himself. He started to ask about Octavius, but found himself looking around the room instead. There weren’t any windows that he could see, but that was expected enough. The bed was bigger than his own at home, and looked twice as comfortable. There was also a small bathroom on one side. Under more normal circumstances, he imagined he could really enjoy it, but it still had the air of a fancy cell.

“How do you like it?” he asked magnanimously.

Peter walked in and tested the mattress with one hand. “Ritzy.” He gave Osborn the awkward half smile again.

It seemed to please the madman. “You have free run of the upper floor, and the ground floor when we’re present.”

The youth’s response was interrupted by the tentacles in the hall. No Otto. Just the tentacles. One of them snaked around behind Norman, putting light pressure on his back, while another made a ‘follow me’ gesture.

Norman leaned back into the touch a moment. “Hmm? Oh. Excuse me, Peter. I’ll be back.” And he followed them down the hall.

The teenager watched Norman and the tentacles leave. The scene was exceedingly odd, and yet it didn’t faze the youth too much at all. He was used to odd. Of course, the vibe he’d been noticing between the pair when they were in a room together was… All well, it was probably nothing. After a bit of deliberation, he decided to take advantage of his freedom on the top floor.

The tentacles led and occasionally nudged at Norman until they reached the lab. Otto was in there going over the notes on the webbing project. “I’ve got it,” he grinned, looking up as the door closed behind Norman.

Norman kept a hand on the tentacles, knowing Otto felt that. “Are you done, then?”

“Well… I was thinking that I could reprogram a few of the nanites to produce the solvent themselves. It’s certainly more efficient than trading out one of the more versatile weapons. However, I’d need the computer interface I used to design them in the first place…” He watched Norman as though her were waiting for an answer to a question.

“And you don’t have access to that here, of course,” he finished. “The lab is gone, but there’s still that bunker we designed…”

Otto nodded. “And I wanted to know your stance on my taking a trip over there to take care of a couple of things. Barring the acquisition of an alternate mode of transportation, it could take a few days.” It would be rather risky, as well, but he wasn’t too concerned about that.

Noman nodded. “It’s a risk. Any way for you to hack the interface from here?”

The tentacles shifted a bit to show Norman the inside of the harness. “I only recently added them, and I never had time to get past the physical aspect of the connection. It’s not worth the risk, I suppose. Perhaps we can see how the boy adjusts and then the three of us can attempt a complete move.” He smiled, but there was an edge of disappointment in it. The tentacles were becoming like pets to him.

Norman nodded. “It’s a safer place. Damn, I should have taken us there to begin with.”

“Hindsight,” Otto shrugged as the tentacles pulled and pushed Norman closer to their owner. “This has worked out well enough.”

Peter pushed open a heavy wooden door and glanced around the room inside. It looked like a study, with a high backed, expensive leather chair behind a neatly polished desk. The contents of the desk was curious, though, a small pile of mangled plastic and wires. Upon investigation, he discovered it was the remains of a phone. A video phone based on some of the components strewn around it. He paused for a bit, poking idly through the remains, before he reached a decision, and bent to the task of putting the phone back together. He worked quickly, not knowing how long the other two would take to do whatever they were doing. He finally managed to make a dial tone hum to life on the other end. It would be a quick call, he thought as he dialed, less than a minute, just long enough to say, ‘hello, I’m fine.’ He rehearsed it over and over in his head as he listened to the phone ring.

***

Downstairs, Norman disentangled himself from Otto. “I should check on the boy.”

“All the phones have been removed, haven’t they?” Otto asked, releasing Norman all the same.

“Or dismantled.” He began to redress himself.

***

In the study, Peter felt like an eternity had passed before he finally heard someone pick up the other line. He’d also begun debating telling her his secret. If she knew, she could try to keep it covered, if he hadn’t been found out all ready…

May answered on the third ring. “Parker residence,” she said out of habit. She sounded exhausted and stressed.

“Aunt May? It’s me, I just wanted to tell you I’m okay, and…” He hesitated, trying to make a far too difficult decision far too quickly.

“Peter?!” She practically shouted. “Peter, where are you, are you okay? Tell me where you are!”

“I… I’m fine. They’ve been pretty nice to me, actually. I just… There’s something… something you should know…” His hand was sweaty on the receiver. “About why they took me…”

And that’s when the line went dead. Norman, standing just inside the door, held the cable that he had pulled from the wall. “My boy,” he said, deep disappointment in his voice.