"I really hope Asher doesn't care that much about actually having food in his kitchen," Lev says, halfway through his second stick of butter. 

"He's a billionaire, he can just buy more food." 

"I think I have a secondary mutation in my stomach," Lev says, "that lets me process food more quickly when I haven't had enough."

"You're adorable." Sasha kisses his forehead. "…I'm really glad it's not just an eating disorder, I was really worried about how thin you were." 

"I think I have an eating disorder a little bit? When I use my power a lot and don't eat, I feel... high and floaty and energetic and like nothing in the world can bother me. And I do that a lot when I'm stressed. --I don't think having to fake a more consistent eating disorder in front of my parents helped though."

"…I bet there's a safer way to get that feeling," Sasha says, and hugs him. 

"Maybe if I eat enough the rest of the time it will balance out?"

"Maybe." More hugs. 

Lev swallows his mouthful of ice cream and kisses Sasha. He tastes like mint chocolate chip.

[Click here to skip the sex scene.]

This is a good thing for Lev to taste like. Sasha kisses him back. 

"…do you want to see the web shooters?" 

"Yes, please, dear god," his face says. 

"If you want to, it could be interesting," his mouth says.

Sasha pulls up his sleeve. 

It's pretty subtle; if you weren't looking for it, you might not notice the small opening just under his wrist. 

Lev is staring. 

He reaches out slowly and touches it. 

"You're beautiful."

"A lot of people seem to think I have fur, or eight eyes, or an exoskeleton, or something, but — it's just this and some scars I didn't want to explain. 

You're beautiful too." 

"Fur or eight eyes would have been okay too."

His eyes are locked on the opening on Sasha's wrist. He's tracing circles around it.

"…my other wrist has one too." Not that he doesn't think Lev could guess that. 

Lev pulls back Sasha's other sleeve, sees the other little opening, and quickly, before he can lose his nerve, kisses it.

"I'm sorry, I--"

Sasha gasps. 

"— don't be." 

He kisses it again and, slowly, cautiously, licks it.

"Oh," very soft. "Oh, that's — nice — I didn't know it —" 

His eyes are closed. He looks reverent. 

He licks Sasha's web shooter more firmly and with more confidence. 

He moans, very softly. His eyes are closed and his face is relaxed. 

He kisses Sasha's web shooters again and then says into his wrist, "you know, I have a private bedroom now."

"So you do," he agrees, a little bit shaky. "We should. Go there." 

"I don't know where it is."