Archive of Our Own

Wade was a messy eater. 

It shouldn’t have bothered Peter as much as it did, but he couldn’t help the eruption of frustration he felt whenever one of Wade’s plates was left out on the counter. The man scattered to the wind. Peter’s cheeks would light up red as a Christmas tree while steam all but burst from his ears. Only then would Wade magically appear with the worst-timed one liner falling like a guilty excuse from his lips. 

The older man got more of a kick out of it should Peter turn even redder at his comments. 

Peter would end up storming from the room with Wade’s roaring laughter as the backtrack, never having actually confronted the man about the original problem.

So the cycle continued. 

Peter had been living with Wade for three months. 

To be fair, Wade wasn’t a terrible roommate, despite this one hiccup. He was always willing to compromise, or take on the chores Peter disliked the most. A few times a month, Peter would even come home to a fully cleaned apartment, dishes included. 

But this one disregard for Peter’s space really twisted him up inside. If Wade could do all other chores, why was this the one he forfeited?

Three months ago The Avengers had assigned Spiderman and Deadpool to work together on a specific case. This was natural as the two often paired up on missions, and considered each other something like friends. 

Their new case wasn’t so high profile that Peter and Wade had to relocate, but Steve did strongly encourage them to find shared living quarters while the case was active. Should they come up with a promising led, they didn’t have time to waste meeting up before attacking. 

Since Peter’s apartment was closer to the general area the crime organization was known to frequent, they had agreed to stay at Peter’s place. On one hand, this meant Peter didn’t have to change his schedule, or move somewhere unfamiliar for an extended period of time. He would still be able to make it to work like normal, and was close enough that he could visit Aunt May whenever he pleased. 

Really, he should have been very grateful, but the coin was always double sided. On the other hand, Peter lived a certain…lifestyle. 

Okay, he was a clean freak. Sue him. 

Don’t misunderstand, he didn’t think badly of people who were messy. It’s just that he wasn’t. It was one of the (many) reasons he chose to live alone, even if that made rent cost a small fortune each month. 

On top of that, Peter knew Wade’s own apartment was considered a swamp, even by its owner’s standards. The spider had been nervous about how their two separate lifestyles would mesh, especially when the case could go on for over six months if they were unlucky.

The first night the two had shared, Peter set Wade up on the couch turned pull out mattress. He had apologized for the limited accommodations, but Wade had just laughed at him.

“I’ve slept comfortably black out drunk and naked in the back alley behind my building often enough. I didn’t know the difference between the road and my bed before passing out, trust me, sweetcheeks, this is just fine.”

Peter had wanted to protest the nickname, but was more preoccupied with his story. The more Peter learned about Wade’s late nights, the more he worried for him. 

Nonetheless, he matched the older man’s charismatic smile with one of his own. It was rarely useful to press Wade for more information then he was willing to give.  

It was only as Peter was closing the home up for the night that he dared to confront what had been on his mind since they had agreed to stake out at his place.

“Hey, Wade?” 

The mercenary looked up from what he was doing.

Changing for bed. 

Peter faced him after he turned off the lights in the kitchen, and was woefully unprepared for the shot of arousal that bloomed in his core. 

Wade was shirtless. Immediately, that telltale blush purpled Peter’s face. It was the first time he had seen Wade shirtless.

While naturally the scars that covered the man’s face also covered the rest of his body, Peter was not deterred by them. In fact, they reminded the spider of his own faded scars across his chest, though the means with which they got there were wildly different. Still, Peter had always felt understood when Wade was brave enough to talk about his scars, though the conversations were rare. One chose the scars willingly, the other had to live with his lack of consent for the rest of his life. 

However, the scars, as multifaceted as they were, were not what Peter had taken to ogling. No, Wade’s strength all throughout his arms and abs was what had Peter drooling. Deadpool could hold him up against a wall as if he was holding a kitten. Peter’s cock throbbed, his slit leaking.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about-”

Wade cut himself off when he caught Peter looking at him. On instinct, he raced to keep his shirt up so his vulnerability wouldn’t be exposed, but soon realized the spider was not staring in disgust. No, Peter’s eyes were dark, his pillow soft lips spread in a jerky inhale.  

Wade never took his eyes off Peter. Peter never took his eyes off of Wade.

Wade let the shirt drop to the floor. 

Suddenly, Peter rushed back to reality, his original motive screaming in his brain. He wasn’t a fan of laundry piles all over his living room. 

Peter cleared his throat, finally forcing his heated gaze away from Wade’s body. 

Wade rushed to pull his sleeping shirt over his head. He was already dressed in sweatpants for the evening. Peter made a mental note to put the AC on for the night so he wouldn’t overheat. Tony had agreed to pay for the duo's expenses while the mission lasted, so he wasn’t worried about the incoming bills. 

Only when Wade was clothed again did Peter continue with his original intent.

“I-I,” Peter cursed himself for tripping over his words, but it brought a smile back to Wade’s lips so he couldn’t be too mad about it, “Since we’re going to be living together for who knows how long, I thought maybe tomorrow we could sit down and establish some ground rules. You know, things that are important for you to feel comfortable here, things that are important for me to feel comfortable. That kind of stuff.”

Wade had plopped himself down on the bed. The springs screeched, and metal coating stripped from the hinges. Wade’s insecurities were wiped away as a shit eating grin greeted Peter.

“And what kind of stuff are you referring to, just so I have a ballpark for what my demands should be.”

Oh, Wade was having way too much fun with this. Still, Peter didn’t think he would get the older man to drop the subject until he was placated. The spider rolled his eyes, which only made Wade eager to push more. 

In truth, Peter didn’t mind Wade’s playfulness. The mercenary was careful never to take it too far. When he crossed Peter’s boundaries, it was only ever once for as soon as the spider brought it to attention Wade was quick to make a mental note. Wade had proven to be more than Peter expected, he had become a cherished friend. Peter didn’t want to ruin that with his libido. 

“You know,” Peter began, “stuff like when is it too late to play loud music, do you think it's okay to leave the toilet seat up-”

“10 a.m, sometimes-”

“-comparing our cleaning routines.”

Wade stopped joking around. 

“Oh Petey- a mix of Peter and Spidey, you get it-”

Well, he nearly stopped joking around. 

“I almost forgot just how specific you are about chores, it’s very cute.”

Peter tried to keep that damn blush from his freckled face. He crossed his arms defensively, and was about to protest the comment but Wade bulldozed onward, sensing the chastise. 

“Don’t worry, pretty boy-”

Peter grabbed the one decorative pillow he owned, and threw it at Wade for the nickname. Wade let it hit him, though they both knew he could have caught it. Not that the older man skipped a beat of his monologue. 

“-I remembered your preferences as soon as Mr. America suggested we stay at your place. As you know, my own abode is nothing short of a pig sty. I’m not really there all that much so I don’t care what it looks like. But don’t worry Mr. Spiderman, sir, I will keep your apartment in tip top condition. You can count on me.”

Wade saluted Peter. Peter rolled his eyes, but conceded.

“So, you’ll sit down with me tomorrow, and figure this roommate stuff out?”

Wade nodded enthusiastically. He was nothing short of a puppy wagging his tail, eager to please his master. 

“Sounds good, bubble butt.”

“ Wade .”

But the mercenary was laughing, and Peter couldn’t stop but crack his own smile. 

That night, when he went to bed, he mused over Wade’s promise to help clean the apartment. He wasn’t sure if the mercenary would keep to his word, but found he wasn’t as worried as he had been before they talked.

Either way, he knew living with Wade would be an adventure.

One he was undeniably excited for. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Wade did keep his word, is the thing. 

He vacuumed, wiped down the coffee table, and never minded tackling the bathroom. 

So why did the man insist on leaving his dirty plates everywhere?

Even so, why did it bother Peter so much?

Wade was a good roommate, really. Peter couldn’t deny his guilt over getting so worked up due to something so small. It was why he tried to keep his annoyance to himself. The problem this time was internal, he wished he could let it go. 

But everytime the stink of half eaten food left to rot reached the spider’s sensitive senses, it was hard to keep to himself. 

Cleaning up your plate was one of the first chores most children learned. Why was it so hard for a man who didn’t mind scrubbing the toilet?

Peter didn’t understand.

Until, one day, he did.

~~~~~~~~~~

Wade slammed the door closed, locking it as soon as both men were in the apartment. The resulting bang made Peter’s already alert instincts flare up as if he were still in danger. He had rarely seen Wade this angry, and over something so inconsequential, too. 

“Wade-” Peter tried to say for what felt like the billionth time that night, but Deadpool wasn’t having it. 

“Don’t say anything,” Wade said, trembling only due to the murderous intent flowing through his veins. 

Gone was the man who joked and laughed with Peter, in his place a stoic, ruthless stranger wearing familiar clothes. Peter watched as the man let himself break.

Wade turned back to the entryway and punched the wall.

Only once.

Peter knew the man held back his full strength. There was only a scuff mark marring the paint where the man struck. 

Peter had watched Wade shatter his opponents jaws before, he knew how dangerous Deadpool could be first hand. Despite it all, Peter was impressed by Wade’s level of control. 

Earlier that night, what might have been a lifetime ago, they had caught a break in their case. Peter had finally been able to crack into their enemies radio signals. Within minutes they had more information on their targets then the whole three months worth of sleuthing (Wade’s word) had provided. 

Within minutes the pair was suited up and soaring past skyscrapers, Deadpool holding tightly to Peter’s back. 

Lost in their excitement of finally catching a lead, they had been underprepared for the shitshow that followed. 

The criminal group had been labeled a ‘B Sector,’ threat. They needed to be stopped before they got stronger, but they weren’t an Avenger’s level bad guy.

At least, they hadn’t been.

When finally tracked down, what was supposed to be an unruly band of thieves turned into so much more. Somehow, they had gotten their hands on nuclear ray guns. If you got caught in the beam of light, you were turned to ash. Not a bone fragment left. 

For once, Wade had been the one to suggest they wait for backup and retreat for now. Peter had been the one to disagree. 

They had spent hours upon hours tracking these people down. They couldn’t waste more time especially if the group had leveled up. 

If Peter and Wade waited for backup, the bandits might be able to slip away.

Peter had ignored Wade’s warning and jumped into battle, knowing Deadpool could find his own way down. Naturally, the older man followed; he would never be able to leave the spider without backup, he just couldn’t.

Peter didn’t understand how deeply Wade cared for him, despite it. 

The battle had started well, soon they had three out of five bandits strung up, unconscious, in Peter’s web. It was as Wade and Peter cornered the last two that everything went wrong. 

As Peter was swinging over to his new opponent, the man shot a blast of his gun. The spider didn’t have time to get out of the way, though he soon found out he wasn’t the man’s target. No, the blast ripped through the web Peter had been holding himself up by. 

The ground came up on him faster than he could recover. In one final desperate attempt to catch himself, he shot out a web, hoping it would latch onto something before he met pavement. 

While the see-through wire did grab onto the corner of the nearest building, it was only enough to jerk him to the right before he tumbled down to the sidewalk.

While he crashed and rolled on the ground, gaining new cuts and bruises, he was okay. If he hadn’t been so lucky, the fall most certainly would have killed him, if not leave him in a coma for the rest of his life. Sound trickled into his deafened ears as he picked himself up to a sitting position. He put one hand to his head and blinked hard in order to get the world to stop spinning. As his gaze focused, he honed in on a pair of blood red eyes boring back into his with a mix of terror, relief, and monumental rage. 

Wade’s Deadpool mask had been torn in ribbons form his face. 

He was holding his opponent at bay with a hand wrapped securely around his neck.

The stranger’s nuclear gun shattered at his feet. Not that he cared as he clawed desperately at Wade’s grip to release him. 

In truth, Peter wasn’t paying attention to Wade’s opponent, or the man that was getting away. 

The spider couldn’t take his eyes off Wade. 

A fire had lit behind him, his shadow stretching down the road as a sign of vengeance. His outline strong, and unyielding, and furious at seeing Peter hurt. The younger man didn’t know if he had ever seen something so dangerous yet beautiful. 

Wade was a siren call Peter couldn’t refuse, and Peter’s gravitational pull would always be stronger than Wade’s strength to stay away. Even if Wade thought he should.

Watching Peter fall, knowing he wasn’t close enough to save him changed the game for Deadpool. He was lost to his baser instinct. Peter watched Wade punch the man out, drop him on the ground, and like death incarnate, made chase for the man that got away. 

“Wade, no!” Peter screamed.

His voice echoed as Wade ran out of sight. Even if Deadpool had heard him, he wouldn’t have turned back. That’s what worried Peter. Wade got reckless when things became too personal for him. It often led him down dangerous roads.

Peter picked himself up off the ground. One of his ankles had definitely snapped in way to break his fall, but he could walk on it so he figured it was just sprained. He forced his way to the man Wade had left for dead. The fire was creeping towards his unconscious body. Peter tried to make quick work of webbing him up so he was out of harm's way, but couldn't run should he wake up before the police showed up.

The webbing was rudimentary as he heard sirens, finally, pulling up to the scene. Still, he felt he was taking too much time. 

All he could do was swing after Wade. He wouldn't be able to run like this, and he certainly would have a hard time helping. Peter ignored it all as he swung down five blocks, only then did the sound of fighting reach his ears. More accurately, the sound of terrified civilian screams and the soul crushing whir of the nuclear gun being fired.

Wade seemed to be holding his own, having gotten a few good punches on his opponent. But Wade’s  opponent was trigger happy, and the ray gun had taken to firing out of control. Wade was stuck having to dodge random deadly blasts while still trying to go after the man behind it all. 

“Retreat!” Peter bellowed, but once again if Wade could hear him he gave no indication. 

It was then as Wade was trying to grab his fleeing enemy that the gun fired in Deadpool’s direction. 

Reckless , Peter thought to himself. 

Wade saw the beam of light too late, his weight was too far forward for him to step backwards out of range. Peter willed himself to swing faster. 

“No!” he screamed, swooping down so he knocked Wade out of the way.

At the same time he lost his grip on the web he was hanging from. The last thing Peter remembered was the ground coming up to swallow him for the second time as the destructive beam of light made straight for him. 

Peter had one last thought before everything went black. 

At least Wade would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Go, Peter,” Wade had said.

Flakes of beige paint had crumpled in a pile on the floor, leaving the wall as naked as Peter felt.

The spider stood frozen in the living room. He didn’t know if he should be angry or not at the marks Wade left, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not after the night they’d had. 

Peter didn’t think he had the right to get on Wade’s case about it anyway, despite Wade’s petulance leaving him reeling with the urge to fight back.

He had done what he had to. Peter wouldn’t have changed his decision to go after the bank robbers, even now.

Wade’s back was still towards Peter. He was hunched in on himself, though the strength in his shoulders rippled proudly. Drops of blood had splattered on the floor from where his knuckles had split, but the tap had already slowed to a stop. His regenerative powers never failing him. 

“Wade,” Peter started, implying his innocence.

Wade didn’t let him finish. 

“Go, Peter,” he snapped, this time it was not a request, “I can’t be around you right now.”

Peter pushed, he shouldn’t have.

“What is the problem? I’m fine, you’re fine. The bad guys were caught and no one got seriously hurt!”

Peter’s super strength failed him as Wade turned suddenly, pinning his arms to the wall. Cutting amber eyes bore into Peter. There was no trace that the Deadpool Peter knew had ever existed at all. 

“For someone with such a big fucking brain, you really are downright stupid sometimes.”

His words were ice. 

Wade hadn’t taken that tone with Peter ever. Not when he had woken up from getting knocked out, not when the Avenger’s had shown up to help with the clean up, not when the ambulance followed, or even in the hospital when it was discovered Peter had a sprained ankle.

Luckily, no concussion.

Sure, Wade had been stiff with his words as he hovered over Peter, but worry had gotten the better of him. The big sap. Now that they were safe at home Wade’s frustration with Peter was palpable. 

Peter refused to wither. It only made Wade’s teeth grind more, but he pushed away from the spider. 

A cold draft upended Peter’s roots. 

The spider pulled his wrists down from where Deadpool had pinned them to the wall. He made sure to rub them gently solely so Wade would feel bad.

In truth, Peter welcomed the possibility of marks, though Wade hadn’t been that rough. If only so he would have something to look back on in case Wade never spoke to him again.

“Go shower or something,” Wade said, barely reeling in his shaking anger, “Just leave me alone for a while.”

Deadpool purposely turned his head so he could escape the betrayal Peter had written across his face.

The vein in Peter’s neck pulsed against the skin, but he was done fighting. At least for now.

Peter turned and left.

~~~~~~~~~~

Peter had taken an extra long shower. This, Tony was definitely paying for, even if their enemies had been caught. 

He had let the steaming water run over the lines and divots of his aching muscles for as long as he could stand it. 

A yellow and purple bruise had taken up the length of his right thigh, and he had cuts running up his body from his fall. None of them had been serious enough to get stitches. Still, his body was sore, and the deep pressure from his shower had led the pain to catch up with him. 

On top of his swollen ankle, Peter was ready to sleep. He had already called out of work for the following day, saying he had gotten caught up in the battle as a civilian and had gotten into an accident. Luckily, he had placated his boss with promise of photos from the excursion so he hadn’t been too upset with Peter.

The spider had a feeling Tony had called up his work as well, because his boss had called him back telling him he could take the next three days off. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and had taken the small vacation without any push back.

Needless to say, Peter was ready to jump into bed, pull the covers up over his head, and sleep for the next twelve hours. 

His conscience didn’t seem to agree with the plan. His argument with the man outside the bathroom door rang in Peter’s ears. He thought back to how Deadpool had urged him to wait for backup before the battle began. Peter had refused, swinging away from the man before he could put up anymore of a protest. 

Peter had the sense to realize if their places had been switched, which they had time and time again, he would also be righteously upset with his partner. 

Wasn’t that why Peter had pushed Wade out of the way in the first place? 

He forced himself to let go of the thoughts that followed, knowing he would work himself into a spiral should he take out his feelings and look at them in the light. 

Wade could regenerate. There really was no reason for Peter to have jumped in front of the beam like that. He had been lucky Wade had pulled him out of the way in the nick of time, using the same momentum with which Peter had pushed him to pull the spider forward. Peter had been just as reckless as Wade was.

He remembered the instinctual fear like wildfire clawing its way from Peter’s gut to his stomach and throat when he realized Wade wasn’t going to make it out of the way in time. 

He didn’t regret what he had done, saving Wade, but he was sorry to have put Wade through the same plight that Peter could only now come to reckon with. 

A billow of steam met him as he opened the shower curtain. If Wade wanted a hot shower, he was going to have to wait. 

That was sufficient punishment. 

Peter took his time drying off, and getting ready for bed. He pulled on his clean sleeping clothes, and made his way to Wade. An apology on his lips. 

As soon as he left the safety of the bathroom, he knew something was amiss. 

Peter hovered in the hall, unsure of how to proceed. 

The TV was on, that he was certain of.  

In and of itself, the TV being on was not something to be concerned about. However, one of the rules the two roommates had laid down in the early days of living together had to do with the volume of the TV past nine o’clock. 

Wade had trouble falling asleep, and liked to watch TV as a way to disrupt the negative thoughts that would creep up on him at night. However, Peter usually had to wake up early for work, and due to his sensitive hearing the normal volume of the TV was more like blaring noise that kept him up until Wade shut the monitor off. Even then, Wade sometimes fell asleep with the TV on, and then Peter would be up all night until he could pick himself up out of bed and turn it off himself.

Wade had been understanding when Peter brought up the issue to him, and had agreed to keep the TV at a much softer volume once the clock hit nine. Even when Peter was still walking around getting ready for bed, if it was passed nine Wade lowered the volume. 

Now, however, it was nine-thirty and Peter could hear the TV loud and clear from the other side of the apartment. 

Peter braved his way through the hallway that opened up to the kitchen and living room, having a dreading sense that something irreversible was about to happen.

Though there was much he could have focused on first, as the familiar pull out couch and fifty year old fridge came into view, there was one thing in particular that Peter couldn’t help but zone in on.

His blood positively boiled. 

A familiar beet red blush over taking his traitorous skin.

Wade had eaten his portion of the Mexican food they had stopped for on their way home. But instead of eating out of the containers the restaurant provided, he had used one of Peter’s china plates.

Naturally, it had been left out on the counter for Peter to find.

The ornate gold lining of the plate, Aunt May had gifted him (a family heirloom), was overshadowed by drippings of salsa, a pile of used napkins, and an uneaten onion slice was the garnish on top.

Peter was done. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. No longer did guilt sit like a heavy stone in his gut, it had now been melted down into molten lava.

The spider made to snap at his roommate, when his eyes trailed over the rest of the mess Wade had accumulated in such a short time frame. 

His mouth fell open in shock, though no words came out. He was too stunned at the level of disrespect from someone he called a friend.

Wade was resting on the couch, he had yet to turn it into a bed for the night. His feet were on the coffee table, he crossed his ankles and at the same time crushed an empty beer can and threw it on the floor to join a hoard of its fallen brethren.

Peter watched as the man took another beer can, popped it open, and drained it within a few seconds. Like the last, Wade compacted it, but instead of throwing it in the pile, he tossed it behind him. Right in Peter’s direction. 

It was easy to catch.

Somehow, that only made him more furious. 

No doubt that was Wade’s intention.

“What is wrong with you,” Peter demanded.

Now Peter definitely knew Wade could hear him, because the man took the remote and turned up the volume. 

Ready to drown Peter’s voice out.

“I was under some ridiculous illusion that we were friends, but you have proven me so wrong-”

Somewhere in his rage filled heart, something cracked. 

“What? I can’t hear you?” Wade yelled over the sports game on the screen.

He turned up the volume, again. Like that was going to make Peter go away, or disappear.

Fed up with his partner’s childish behavior, Peter marched up to the TV and turned it off manually. That got the bastard’s attention.

“What the hell!” Wade said, sitting up on the couch.

He was sitting in a pile of his own mess. Dirty tissues, used plastic cups, and candy bar wrappers were strewn all around him in a depression nest. Peter didn’t know how he had accumulated that much trash in the time he was in the shower, but leave it to Wade to go beyond Peter’s expectations. 

Wade still had yet to look at Peter. The spider hated it.

He was going to change it.

“I am sick of your bulllshit. Every day for the past three months I have had to pick up your dirty fucking plates, scrape them into the garbage and put them in the sink. Every damn day! What the fuck is wrong with you that you can’t do this one simple task. You cook, you clean, but this is where you stop? This is the hill you’re going to die on because you refuse to communicate with me? You’re so immature!”

Wade was standing now. Naturally, he towered over Peter, but even at a distance he seemed taller. Formidable, even if Peter could take him down easily. 

Not that he expected the fight to get violent, even now he trusted Wade to keep civil. Even now he trusted Wade completely.

It was why this all hurt like hell.

“Well, guess what? I’m sick of your stupid rules, Peter. You’re right about one thing, I have done everything you’ve asked me too. I’m glad to help around the place because your life is a mess!  You barely make time to eat or sleep, and you work yourself to the bone night and day. I’ve been the one picking you back up every time you fall. Every time you rush in and do something reckless and suicidal, I’m there to back you up, but it’s not enough for you is it?”

Despite the beer, Wade didn’t waver.

“Next time, I’ll let you do whatever your heart desires. Swing into a battle that you can’t win, see if I care! I’m sure you’ll handle your opponents the same way you did this time around and save the day. Oh wait, you actually got your ass handed to you, and would have been left on the street at the mercy of those fuckers if it wasn’t for me. Also, I don’t give a shit about the dirty plate, deal with it.”

Despite it all, despite what this argument was really about, Peter could only focus on Wade’s last words. There was too much he wasn’t strong enough to face in the truth Wade had laid out for him, and they both knew it.

Wade took a step towards him, holding back the urge to grab Peter and shake him until he got it through his thick head.  

Wade was worried. 

Peter didn’t care.

“I knew you were leaving your shit out to spite me. You try to act so innocent, but you are such an asshole. You can’t just talk to me about something that’s bothering you, you have to blow up about it. You only know how to throw a tantrum if you don’t get your way. Well if you hate it here so much, Wade, you can leave! The mission is over, we won, so go home and stay out of my life!”

A cold draft replaced the heat from their argument. The fight left both of them like the absence of breath. They were now forever stuck in the epilogue of this new journey, unable to turn back time. 

Peter had always let Wade stay if he needed to, or wanted to. Always.

He had never told him to leave before, he had never wanted him to leave before. Certainly, not like this. 

Wade’s eyes widened.

Peter had put to truth all the intrusive thoughts he had built up in his head. 

Their relationship had always been special. They were loners who had found something like a home within each other. Peter had always known the precipice they teetered on would give way to a fall. He had thought Wade would be there to catch him when it happened. 

There was nothing here but a freefall.

And all Peter could do was find company in regret and misery.

He didn’t want Wade to go.

It was too late.

Wade took a step back, brick by brick building up his walls. 

He was quiet. He was never quiet.

“Fine, Peter. The only reason I was going to stay tonight was to make sure you were okay by yourself with your injuries. But I see that you can handle it, so I’ll go. I’ll never bother you ever again.”

But Wade didn’t move, and neither did Peter. 

They were both waiting to see what the other person would do. If Wade really was about to pack up and leave. Peter could storm to his room and lock himself in. He could ignore the hinges on the front door creaking open and close as Wade left. 

Would they ever see eachother again?

Maybe for work.

An ache almost brought Peter to his knees. No. That wasn’t enough. 

He would miss him too much. He would miss their late night conversations. He would miss the way Wade could always make him laugh. He would become a sad corpse of a person, only able to replicate the happiness he had once felt so vigorously. 

He couldn’t lose Wade, not like this. Not before he learned how much Peter loved him. 

Wade’s shoulders dropped, no longer willing to fight for something Peter didn’t reciprocate. 

Peter wouldn’t let him. 

Spiderman rushed forward. Deadpool’s arms always coming up to hold and steady him. 

“Wha-”

The older man was cut off. 

Peter Parker lurched forward and kissed Wade Wilson. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It was like all Wade needed was permission.

Immediately, he was kissing Peter like the spider was going to vanish from his arms should he open his eyes. As if kissing Peter was a dream he had many times, and too often woke up cold and alone. 

Peter would know, he’d had the same dream.

Wade’s tasted like beer and tacos, and Peter wouldn’t have stopped kissing him if a meteor hit earth this instance.

They were a tangle of limbs as Wade supported Peter’s weight in his arms. He pushed the two back against the wall he had pinned Peter against not two hours earlier. This time he was gentler. Peter was using his legs to keep him firmly planted on Wade’s hips. Having Peter secured on his body, the older man was granted access with his hands. 

He explored with a fervent need.

His marbled hands pushed under the barrier of Peter’s shirt, massaging his skin with his addictive touch. He skimmed up his torso to his pecs, playing with his nipples to make Peter gasp. 

A decade old fear sparked in the spider’s mind, but Wade felt too good on him. If this was to crash and burn Peter would not be the one responsible.

He ignored his insecurities. 

Wade had translated his kisses to every available surface of Peter he could reach. A sharp sting of his teeth gripped Peter’s shoulder, sending the spider reeling with spikes of pain mixed with pleasure. 

It was enough to remind the younger of the two that they had been fighting before whatever this was. The strong suction of Wade’s lips on his pulse put gasoline on a dying fire. 

Peter wasn’t going to let Deadpool get away with leaving giant, embarrassing hickeys all over his neck without reminding him just who he was claiming so thoroughly.

Someone who was always going to fight back.

Peter’s hands, that had been gripping onto Wade’s shoulder’s hard enough to turn his knuckles white, ripped Wade’s gray henley from the neck down.

Peter tore the fabric from Wade’s body, finding nothing but solid muscle in its wake. Peter’s mouth watered.

As he marveled at the energy of Wade’s body, a finger came up under his chin. 

Peter tore his eyes from Deadpool’s v-line, and bravely met his stare.

He expected malice, anger, hatred even.

No.

Wade’s eyes were black. 

The golden fire of his iris eaten by the unending darkness of his pupil.

Deep lust, a desperation one could only feel for someone they also cared deeply for.

Peter couldn’t deny what he saw on Deadpool’s face then. He had always assumed Wade only flirted with him due to his physique, or in a teasing manner. Sometimes he would point out that truth to Wade and the older man would always stutter and look away. He would evade telling Peter the real reason for his flirting with a well timed distraction or change of subject.

Peter had never pushed it.

But maybe, just maybe, all the times he had looked at Wade with something too full for his heart to hold, Wade had been looking back, overflowing with the same intention.

Suddenly Wade grew dangerously seriously, he pushed forward so they were chest to chest, nose to nose.

Peter felt the other’s undeniable arousal through his shorts. Hot and heavy and pressing in directly where Peter needed him. He swallowed a petulant whine. He wanted Wade in him, touching him, licking him, anything.  

“You could do anything you wanted to me, Peter Parker,” Wade said, earnestly, honestly, “I’m yours. So if you want me to walk out that door right now, I will. I will leave you alone, and never come back. That does not mean I belong any less, entirely, to you.” 

Peter inhaled quickly.

“Oh, Wade. Of course I want you to stay. ”

It was all he could blubber out before he was pulling the man back in, their mouths melding together perfectly. 

Wade’s chest brushing against Peter’s, his hips jerking up like he couldn’t help himself.

Peter didn’t think he could.

A whorish moan knocked its way out of Peter’s throat. Wade practically snarled, his hands coming up to grab at Peter’s cropped hair.

“You,” Wade breathed heavily so warmth spread across Peter’s chin,”you are going to be the death of me, pretty boy.”

Losing all abandon, Wade started thrusting wildly. 

Peter was at the mercy of his baser instincts, calling out wantonly for Wade. Begging him with more than words, to stay. Never leave the warmth of the cocoon that had encompassed the pair.

“I thought I lost you.”

The sentiment tore from Wade’s throat. A hoarse gravel filled cry that accompanied a well-timed grind of his hips. Peter was a swollen aching mess. It seemed Wade was counting on it, hoping Peter wouldn’t pay attention to the things that came out of his wayward, traitorous mouth. 

While the spider’s core was a heated steel pipe, he was attuned to Wade like a radio. Of course he heard him. 

“I’m here. Nothing happened-”

Peter was cut off by his own groan as Wade pulled at his sensitive nipples, again. Almost like he was coercing Peter to forget he had said anything, but if Peter was one to back down their relationship would be drastically different. 

“- I’m yours, Wade. ”

Peter said insistently, like a prayer. 

Wade stopped his knees from buckling, but his begging cock still found Peter’s covered core. It wouldn’t take Wade much longer to find release. He didn’t stop talking despite it, like he could only face his fears when he was otherwise occupied. The full weight of his thoughts too much to face.

“ Yes, you are,” Wade growled, half in pleasure, half in insistent determination, “you are mine, Peter. That’s the problem. You’re mine, but you don’t think of the fallout when you fling yourself into danger. You are a wonder, a gift from God should one exist. I’m happy to follow you into the shadows, making sure you always emerge victorious.”

Peter shuddered a moan, as his clit continued to swell. He loved touching it when it got big, it really was his cock. 

Wade’s thrusts were unescapable, and Peter had to fight harder and harder to not fall into the building pleasure threatening to overpower higher thought. 

“Today, you didn’t let me follow you,” Wade continued, “It’s not the drop from your web that shook me. Not that it was a joyride to watch. It was when you jumped to save me from a light beam that couldn’t kill me. I can regenerate, Peter. You can’t.”

Peter carrassed his hand down Wade’s naval, slipping his hand into Wade’s pants, past the waistband of his boxers.

Wade pulled in a breath, eyes closing. His hips jerked forward unintentionally a few times, but mostly stilled to let Peter do whatever he wanted. He would always let Peter do whatever he wanted to him. 

Wade was hot to the touch. Hot, and hard, and ever so solid in Peter’s hands. Gently, as they didn’t have anything to make the slide easier, he started stroking Wade’s cock. 

Wade was a mess in his hands. Arms now caging Peter in on either side of his head, eyes pinched tight, breath heavy, moans animalistic.

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmured.

His hand was addictive to Wade. It was all the vigilante had wanted for so long and never thought he would be able to have. If this was all Peter could give him, he would die a happy man. 

The calluses of the hero’s palm brushed over and over against the thousands of nerves in Wade’s heavy cock. 

“ I love you ,” Peter said strongly, earnestly, “come, Wade. Come for me.”

Wade couldn’t hold an orgasm back anymore. The wave of pleasure crescendoed, crashing to the shore as Wade groaned deep, and long. 

Hot, sticky ropes of cum spurted into his underwear, coating Peter’s hand as the spider refused to take it away until he had rung every drop from his lover. Only when Wade was twitching with oversensitivity did the spider pull back.

Peter’s eyes darkened more than Wade could have imagined as the younger man stared intently at the seeping liquid running down his skin. 

Peter didn’t let it get further as he leaned forward to lick the droplet from his wrist up to the tip of his index finger.

“Fuck,” Wade swore at the sight, “fuck, I’m not done with you. Not even close.”

Wade wrapped his strong arms under Peter’s legs and hoisted him so he sat fully on the older man’s hips.

Peter yelped.

Wade’s nose brushed against Peter’s.

“ I’m going to make you come so hard, your legs are going to shake. ”

Peter’s core screamed its want, begging Wade to do exactly as he had planned, but the spider couldn’t ignore his doubt a moment longer. 

Wade walked them over to the kitchen table, setting the spider down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

Peter was a little disappointed. Wade’s hips, his swollen cock, didn’t reach Peter’s entrance.

But that was his worry now wasn’t it, Wade didn’t know Peter had an entrance. 

Peter had come out to Aunt May, and his close friends all by the time he was a senior in high school. He told the people he trusted, but not another soul. 

The complexities of his identity didn’t translate well to the world outside his window. 

Peter had worn binders since he had enough money to buy one. He labeled himself nonbinary, as it was closest to how he felt. Still, he didn’t hate his ties to femininity. He dabbled in both genders, and the absence of one. 

While he had always wondered what going on testosterone would do to his clit, swelling it up into a desperate cock, his cunt gave him so much pleasure he liked it as is. But his chest, he hated that it outed him so easily. He had planned his surgery perfectly. 

He had changed jobs a month after the surgery had taken place. This way he would have time to heal, and then introduce himself fully as male presenting to his new coworkers. 

His friends at the newspaper, his friends from being a hero, none of them knew he was anything but a cis male. 

He had found early on he was treated with more respect when people saw him fully, and only as a male. Respect wasn’t something he was willing to part with.

He wasn’t ashamed of who he was, but he was protective of it. 

Everything had changed when Wade came around. 

Peter had never had to worry about bringing the conversation up of sexuality or gender because Wade beat him to the punch. Within a week of knowing each other Wade had blurted out that he was bisexual. That it didn’t matter to him if his partner was male or female as long as there was chemistry.

Peter had denied saying anything at the time. Looking back, maybe that was what took them so long to get together. Nonetheless, Peter couldn’t find it in himself to regret the journey that had brought them here, to this moment.

Either way, Wade was going to find out. Peter wanted him to find out. Even if things went bad, Peter would always be true to himself. He could only hope that Wade was the man Peter thought him to be. 

Peter stepped off the ledge to a free fall, trusting blindly that Wade would catch him. 

Wade was talking, when was he not, but Peter didn’t trust his own words to do him justice anyway.

“-and that’s when I knew I needed to have you, Peter-”

Peter cut him off by grabbing his hand. Wade’s elusive stare snapped to Peter, like he had to stop himself from just keeping it there all the time.

Peter began moving Wade’s hand gently down his body.

“Eager, are we?”

Wade taunted but when Peter didn’t immediately quip back, he grew silent, waiting for Peter to tell him whatever needed to be said. He always made room for Peter- his grief, his happiness, his contentiousness- Peter couldn’t have found someone who he trusted more.

Wade’s fingers slipped beneath Peter’s pajama pants, then the waistband of his underwear. Peter let him explore. The deft fingers caressing his pubic hair, slipping further down to find a hefty girth-

Instead, he was met with the swollen nub that was Peter’s cock and the soaked entrance of his hole. 

Wade gasped and shivered. Peter saw his cock twitch where the man had forgone his stained pants. God, Peter wanted him. Wade’s fingers teased Peter’s entrance.

A moan fluttered from Peter, stronger than it had been before. He was bare, and raw, and alight with desire, and he desired Wade.

He was pretty sure Wade desired him, too. 

Peter’s hand came back up to clutch Wade closer. Wade caught Peter’s lips in a comforting, nurturing kiss. 

“If you thought this was going to scare me away, pretty boy,” Wade said strongly, “you’re wrong.”

Peter didn’t know he could be happier, or hornier.

“Please,” the desperate cry insisted, “ Please. I’m yours, Wade. I’m completely yours.”

“Damn right you are,” Wade agreed, and then to Peter’s dismay, pulled away.

Peter grit his teeth

Nonetheless, it clicked in his head then. Yes, the height of the island was too tall for Wade to slip into Peter, but it was just the right height for Wade’s mouth when he got to his knees. Which is what he had pulled away to do.

Peter caressed Wade’s cheek with his hand. He looked like a golden demigod on his knees to pray, repenting for his sins, begging the man he worshiped for forgiveness. 

Paw like hands pulled Peter’s pants down until his skin was bare against the cool counter. He didn’t have time to bemoan, however, when Wade picked up his legs to rest them on his shoulders. In turn, opening Peter up for his viewing pleasure. There was nowhere for Peter to run to that would escape Wade’s gaze. He wouldn’t want it any other way. 

He was opened, and ruined, and wrecked, and most of all he was Wade’s.

“I’d do it all again,” Peter gasped out as Wade’s hot breath caressed his sex. A tease.

“I would jump in front of that beam time and time again if it meant it didn’t rip through you.”

Wade’s hand gripped Peter’s hips, tightly, his skin bulging between Wade’s fingers.

Wade’s expression hardened. 

A war between the two men. 

Wade wanted to argue that it was foolish for Peter to needlessly risk himself for someone who could regenerate. Wade couldn’t live in a world without Peter.

Peter’s counter was just as strong. 

He loved Wade. He would never let Wade get hurt if he could stop it. 

As they often did, they were at a standstill.

Wade was still insistent on proving his point.

“I love you,” Wade started with.

He needed Peter to know that he was in this, all the way. 

“-But I’m going to suck your cock until you’re screaming, and if you’re good I’ll give you something for that greedy, dripping hole of yours, sweetheart.”

Then Wade’s mouth was on him.

Hot, wet, tongue devouring his mound.

Wade’s face became engulfed in Peter’s cunt. 

Not that Peter had the mind to watch it.

The man’s head was thrown back, the line of his neck illuminated by the overhead light, logical thinking was gone.

It wasn’t enough. It was too much. It was perfect. Peter belonged on Wade’s tongue, and the sentiment was clearly shared. 

Wade’s mouth moved to sucking, bobbing his head as if on Peter’s rod. He was, and it made Peter’s heart swell as much as it made his hips jerk up into Wade’s mouth. 

He was fucking the older man’s mouth with his cock. 

Wade moaned greedily into Peter’s sex, breathing deeply as if to commit Peter’s scent to memory. 

Only when Peter had started to tremble with the need to come, did Wade slip two fingers into his dripping cavern.

A cry was punched from Peter’s lungs, tears streaming down his face from how overwhelmingly good it felt. 

Wade sucked on his cock, and pumped him at the same time. Peter was a mess, he ripped his shirt off to get some air, but soon after was once again pulled under the deafening waves of pleasure that set his whole body on fire. Wade was his. Wade was entirely his, and he was entirely Wade’s.

“That’s right, baby boy,” Wade said.

Peter blushed, unaware he had spoken out loud. 

He didn’t really feel that embarrassed. 

Wade’s reckless abandon to make Peter come was only interrupted by his constant need to talk. Peter couldn’t say he loved him any less for it. 

“You have that damn virgin blush on your face again, even when your come is dripping into a pool on the floor underneath you. Even when I’m targeting your g-spot.”

Peter didn’t follow where he was going with this, but the words made his cunt spasm so he didn’t really care. 

Still, as Wade kept pumping him, he talked.

“You have no idea how every time I see your freckles get backed up by the delicious pink of your skin, it drives me crazy. I don’t know how you didn’t notice the mess I turned into whenever you were around. I started torturing myself. I started doing things purposefully to see you darken, even if it meant getting you mad.”

That's when it clicked in Peter’s brain, not that he could do much about it as his orgasm crept closer into reach.

Still, his pride demanded it.

“You bastard,” Peter moaned.

He sounded like he was in heat. Wade told him so. 

Peter’s sex throbbed, and he knew it wasn’t long before he squirt his seed everywhere. Ruining Deadpool’s mouth

If Wade ever put his mouth back where it belonged instead of telling on himself for things Peter was gonna chew him out for later.

“I wasn’t going to push you too far,” Wade damningly continued, “Of course I was gonna pick up after myself, and take care of the house. Generally make sure you and your home were taken care of while I was here. But the plate. It was a little thing, easily accounted for as an accident every time, but it drove you wild. I saw you fight with yourself on whether or not to bring it up to me. I was selfish, and talked my way out of the conversation any time you tried. Not in fear of owning up to the mess, but in fear of owning up to what I felt for you.”

Peter could not believe what he was hearing, while simultaneously a laugh bubbled out of his throat. The only sound he had made so far that wasn’t damning.

He had been fucked. Absolutely fucked from the start of this, and there wasn’t a thing he could have done for it.

“I knew you were doing it on purpose,” Peter said breathily.

Before the spider could continue to chew Wade out, the asshole started back up to sucking Peter off. 

With the way Wade’s fingers targeted Peter’s most sensitive inner parts, he was done for. 

Peter came with a desperate cry as his entire body convulsed. 

His cunt was a strong pulse around the rhythm of Wade’s fingers. When Wade made it clear he wasn’t stopping until Peter gave him everything he had, the younger boy beared down and couldn’t stop from squirting all over Wade’s face.

The older man’s chin was a glistening mess. 

Peter was finally able to pick his head back up from where he had flung it back. His body was twitching puddy, he inhaled sharply to find Wade stroking himself off. Again. 

“Good boy.”

The words flew from Peter’s lips naturally.

Wade groaned, and Peter was captivated by the way his hard cock jumped and spurted out the remaining cum that Peter was interested in milking from Wade’s balls.

Only two spurts this time compared the the four from Wade’s first orgasm. Peter was going to have to build up his stamina. He looked forward to it. 

Only when they had both come down from their highs did Wade stand up and help Peter off the counter. They traded a sloppy kiss, Peter moaning as Wade thrust his tongue into the spider’s mouth. Claiming him, and forcing the other to taste the come that Wade had rung from him.

They both decided they were too tired for round three, despite it.

Peter mewled his disappointment, Wade only laughed.

The spider’s eyes slit, as the confession Wade had made when he was on his knees came back to him. 

“You’re going to start putting your dirty plates away now, right?”

Wade could only laugh.