A/N: Okay, I would like one two-way ticket to hell, if you please since, heh, that's the appropriate outcome to this…That and hating myself significantly.

PART ONE:

-:-
There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.
-F. Scott Fitzgerald.

"You ever wonder what it would be like to have your best friend come onto you when he has no other choice? Although, coming on probably isn't quite the right phrase. More like begging for your help after getting sprayed with a drug not even the Avengers are up to date on, that can only be alleviated by having—I wish I was kidding—an orgasm.

This trope from the internet apparently has a foothold in reality for superheroes, and while the adult superheroes are aware of it (isn't that a kick in the head?) they are not going to assist in ridding a seventeen year old of the symptoms no matter how sorry they feel for him.

Which is where I come in…

Please don't read too much into that."

Walking in on his roommate in the middle of personal issues really wasn't that outside the norm for Ganke. To the contrary, Miles seemed to fill up his entire life with issues, personal or otherwise, that took up his time and brought Ganke into it sooner rather than later.

Such was the life of a superhero and his pretty-much-the-only-one-there assistant/best friend.

And, really, it was their own fault that the incidents kept piling up as both school roommates and people not-quite-squatting in an abandoned building (owned by Tony Stark, which made them suspicious when no building managers came to check on the place, but got pushed to the back of their minds as time went on) being used as a temporary operations space until they turned eighteen and got their own place that didn't have parents milling about that could hear what they were doing any time of the day that they weren't at work.

Finding Miles with his suit pooled on the dusty wooden floorboards and in the middle of attending to much more teenage needs, on the other hand was… new.

Especially since the only thing keeping the room warm was an electric space heater and the fireplace Ganke was just in the middle of building up to add some more degrees to the room with cardboard boxes left over from his TV dinners, newspaper snatched up from back alleys on the way there that night and the seven really heavy blocks of wood they sold at the gas station seven blocks down for the ridiculous price of ten dollars (really, why charge so much—they were going to be burned to ashes and were tied up with crappy bio-degradable rope; honestly). Ganke had watched his breath turn to mist the whole nine flights of stairs up and the same misty puffs were leaving Miles. That and what looked like steam radiating off of him, for the ten seconds it took Ganke to drop his cargo and cover his eyes with both hands.

Then he promptly hit his face with the door as he grabbed it to give his friend some privacy before reacting as any other teenager would.

"Dude, really?! If you needed to do that, at least put a sock on the door!"

"Sorry…Sorry…Sorry… I didn't think about it…"

The panting was not appreciated, even as it petered out and Miles regained enough sense to stop his ministrations and sound sheepish.

"Can I turn around or should I walk around the block?"

"N-no, I, uh, it won't go away. At least, not…Tony said…" Miles paused, and to Ganke's ears and knowledge of him going back almost a decade, sounded like he was shuffling in place and chewing on his lips like he usually did when he had no idea what to say.

"Ironman? You did this in front of Ironman, too? Dude, seriously—"

"No! Tony only saw it after he ran diagnostics on everyone involved in this stupid mission we were all on—And I am not the only one he saw like this! There was himself, and Captain America, and Thor and-and-and—Oh my god, I hate them all and I hate the sick freak that made this happen, and I hate myself, I wanna die…"

"Can you cover yourself so I can talk to you properly?"

Awkward silence.

Ganke flinched at the unmistakable sound of wet flesh being released and dropped against more wet skin as Miles bent over and picked up his suit.

"Right, sorry. Okay, you can turn around now."

Ganke first locked the door with the bolt he'd gotten from the hardware store (that was such a weird moment when his mom found it in his backpack looking for his latest grade report; he'd claimed it was to replace one at school which had gotten old and rusted in the boys bathroom that he'd broken, which he was still pretty certain she didn't believe, but had let go after he'd claimed he didn't want her to get stuck with a bill just because he had the worst luck with the cafeteria food) and then did just that, keeping Miles in his peripheral as he picked up the groceries and fire stuff he'd dropped.

"Okay, from the beginning, with details, while I start the fire and shut the window, because, dude, your lips are turning blue, it is freezing, you should be wearing the suit and a jacket, not be naked. It's only, like, twenty degrees outside."

"I know that," Miles ground out pathetically, teeth clenched and wrapped his arms around his legs so he looked even smaller in the wooden chair he'd been sitting in for however long he'd been there while Ganke was out. The window shut, but he remained curled up, looking miserable, "But I feel, like, a hundred degrees, which Tony said was also a side-effect that would persist until I get this…problem handled."

Ganke wandered over to the fireplace, lining the logs up like he assumed they were supposed to go based on what he'd heard from school friends that actually left the city in summer. Make them like a teepee, rip up the cardboard to place along the cracks and in the center, then tear up the newspaper to place it under and around the cardboard…

Deciding it looked about right, if a little bent and floppy, Ganke pulled out the wooden matches he'd been carrying around and hoped they'd light as he called over his shoulder.

"Okay, that doesn't sound like a conversation I'd want to have with any of the Avengers. So what happened?"

"There was this thing with Loki and Doom that I got roped into helping with because I can turn invisible, and it was actually going really well—considering I still have no idea what it was about-when I snuck into some medieval castle to get blueprints to something that looked suspiciously like a Viking Ironman. Then some alarm went off that Thor tripped over three levels below me, and there was this really creepy scientist that bought Doom some time to get away when he sprayed this weird, like, chemical thing into the air like a smoke bomb that smelled actually really good, and everyone was fighting and… Loki and Thor got into this spat, that cleared the air a little so we could at least see, and it looked like the scientist realized that he'd made a mistake and it was the wrong chemical and was apologizing to Loki even when the guy was knocked out and we were on the jet home…" he trailed off, frustrated and showing it as he tried to get more comfortable without moving his problem around under the suit.

Ganke flicked two matches into the fireplace that cracked and then finally got the third to light, pressing the flame to the paper and blowing it into fruition, "So then what?"

"The most embarrassing thing so far in this gig. We were all talking and then the plane landed and everyone stood up and we all had…well… And Tony made this quip I still don't get, and threatened the scientist. Long story short, the jerk sprayed us with a hybrid pheromone concoction that is only done after it's completed its…purpose."

Ganke didn't have to be a space station employee to understand the insinuation there, but there really was no way to be sure without asking verbally.

He poked at the logs a little to get some of the bigger ones set up better and tried to sound a kind of casual that was not even remotely close to hitting the mark, "And the purpose would be…?"

"Sex and an orgasm. He was making a very specific date rape drug for some human traffic ring, which Black Widow was not happy about. She punched him in his special place, like, ten times."

The stirring stick in Ganke's hand cracked against the biggest log that finally caught fire and tried to pretend his voice didn't catch when he turned around, "And by sex, you mean…?"

"Everyone was calling their boyfriend or girlfriend or—in Tony's case—both and told me they were sorry when I said I had none of the above, but they weren't going to break any underage laws to help me out. And to top it off, Tony gave me this before booting me out."

Ganke doesn't know how he could have missed them, but he definitely noticed in that moment as Miles awkwardly tapped his finger on the box of multi-packed condoms sitting on the table next to his half-finished Lego Menorah.

Ganke tried not to feel like there was a giant elephant in the room and just stared at his best friend as he processed the words and the options and the scene he'd walked in on. The latter didn't seem to compute with the need for condoms.

Miles wrapped his arms much more tightly around his legs and appeared to be giving off even more heat despite the room getting the well-deserved attention it needed from the fire and the heater buzzing in the far corner of the room. Vapor trails were emanating off of his shoulders like he'd just come out of the shower, which meant, if Ganke recalled his biology classes properly, his body temperature was working in tandem with the production of sweat.

"I'm sorry, but I feel like I'm hitting a wall here. You were in the middle of self-love when I got here, does that mean this can be undone without any outside assistance?"

"I've been here thirty minutes thinking about all the Sports Illustrated women, hoping—I repeat—hoping that I wouldn't have to ask for help. So, I guess that's out since I think I sprained something and Tony was pretty insistent about the condoms."

The elephant in the room seemed to convert into a strained feeling in Ganke's gut that reminded him of really spicy Indian food and caused him to almost stutter out a fruitless hope for his best friend.

"W-wait, wait, wait, you don't have a girlfriend."

"Gee, Ganke, how could I forget that?"

"So, what, you can't just leave it alone and hope it goes away with time?"

"According to Tony, no."

"Why not?"

"The drug requires some sort of release of endorphins that only comes from all of your muscles in a state of arrest for a moment or something that Tony tried explaining more thoroughly before basically giving up and simplifying, mostly for Thor, that if we don't…release… then the blood will pool, cease its circulation and cause the afflicted appendage to fall off."

"…I take it that this drug wasn't beyond the testing phase?"

"Nope."

"And you absolutely need another person, because…?"

"That was the drug's entire point."

Now the pressure in Ganke's gut had basis and he looked at Miles like one would look at a dog they knew was on a trip to the vet that was not going to end well.

Also, the reason why Miles had come to the hideout instead of home or school was more apparent than ever, ever, ever and Ganke sighed, asking the obvious and feeling sorry for the both of them. Seventeen year olds needed girlfriends for a reason and that had never had more bearing than it did before just then.

"Me? Really? Me?"

"For the record, despite this being one of the worst possible ways to lose my virginity any way you look at it—and OMG, I looked around the internet and now have a new sympathy towards the FBI and amateur porn actors—it really wasn't that bad.

Seriously, if I ever get a girlfriend I will be lucky if we ever have a time like this thing that will probably never be brought up again."

After thirty minutes of bargaining and embarrassment and outright begging, making sure the room stayed at a good sixty degrees above chill, fishing some faded but clean blankets and sheets they kept stored in a box in one of the lower level closets in case they only got a few hours' sleep after patrol and crime fighting (the suit was not enough, and despite exuding so much heat, Ganke didn't like Miles to be cold and dragged him off of the chair to nest by the fire), and realizing that oral sex was still labeled under sexual acts that all pre-teens and young adults indulged in at some point in their lives… Ganke gave in.

Because, for one thing, Miles was starting to feel pain, and for another, Ganke really did not want his best friend to lose his junk just because neither of them were smart enough to think of a better solution.

He didn't quite expect to be so taken aback when he had Miles lay flat on the blankets, close his eyes and uncover himself.

Damn.

It was kinda scary up close and personal and not in, say, the gym locker rooms with a towel or thirty other students separating them from looking down and taking a good long look.

Miles was large and uncut.

"…How do you not have a girlfriend again?" Slipped out of Ganke's mouth even as he got on his stomach—still dressed, still dressed, this was for Miles and Ganke wasn't looking for any form of reciprocation at all, thanks very much—and tried to get comfortable with dark legs on either side of him.

Miles lifted his head and then slammed it back onto the floor. One, two, three. Ow.

"Just saying…"