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“You like this?” Peter leans back and braces himself on the man’s thighs for leverage as he whines his hips up and down.
The man groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna blow if you keep doing that”.
He reaches for Peter’s waist but Peter smacks it away. “Mm mm, no touching,” he teases the man who sighs and rewards him by snapping his hips up at a brutal pace.
Peter’s eyes slam shut at the surprise as the air is fucked out of his lungs.
This asshole.
Peter would protest with faux-anger if he couldn’t taste the electricity coursing through his body as it builds in his abdomen. The texture of the man’s cock is brushing against all the right places over and over.
“I’m gonna-,” lava is pooling in Peter’s stomach and he feels himself clench onto all of it. Peter tries to meet the man’s hips but his legs won’t cooperate anymore.
“C’mon, baby boy. You can do it,” the man coos, seemingly aware of Peter’s closeness. “At least let me see those pretty eyes,” he uses the opportunity to grip and use Peter’s hips for leverage to push him over the edge.
“Fuck, yes, oh my god, Wa-,”
Peter’s eyes snap open. His heart is beating out of his chest and his breaths are ragged and untimed. He looks around his bedroom and is greeted with nothing but sunlight and an uncomfortable dampness in his boxers.
He groans and looks at the time on the old-school alarm clock he has on his dresser. 3:27 AM in bright red font. He grumbles and forces himself back to sleep so he can at least pretend to be awake when he works his shift at the cafe in a few hours.
Peter has been having wet dreams for the last two weeks, every. single. night. It has gotten to the point where it's ruining his life. He’s getting even less sleep than usual, and it’s making it hard for him to focus on the things he actually has to focus on.
Last Tuesday, he slept through his morning class and missed the final review for his Chemical Engineering midterm. Three days ago, he yawned in the middle of shooting a web mid-swing and crashed into the side of a building. And now, he’s fighting to get enough sleep before he has to clock in at 6 today.
But the worst part of this terrible joke being played on him is that it’s Wade keeping him up all night. Of all the people in the world, Wade is The Man of His Dreams™.
Wade is the most stubborn pain in Peter’s ass. For one, he’s insane. Between the crazed look in his eyes when he severely injures—not kills, he, very proudly does not do that anymore—some bad guy and the moments he talks about “the audience” and “plot devices” in everyday conversation makes Peter wonder how he let himself get to the point where he has to admit that Wade is the closest person to him.
Being a broke, over-worked, trans grad school student can be a bit lonely and Wade is one of the few people who allow Peter to fully be himself without judging or leaving him for any of it.
Peter’s admiration and respect grew for the mercenary because of this and he suspects that’s why Wade’s been running through his mind the last two weeks.
He remembers the first night like it was yesterday.
They were in Wade’s kitchen about to start a Rachael Ray recipe for Jalapeño Popper Corn Dog Waffles when he begged Peter to wear matching pajamas and aprons.
“Why do we have to match? It’s gonna take, like what, an hour?” Peter looks up from the recipe on his phone to see Wade give his best puppy dog pout with little whines to match.
“Pretty please, Petey-pie. It’ll be fun and you owe me for breaking my finger 3 days ago,” Wade reminds him of his mistake by wiggling his healed digits. Peter scoffs in disbelief at Wade’s guilt-tripping.
“That’s not my fault, I told you to stop tickling me!” Peter protests but he feels bad anyway. Sometimes his strength gets the better of him and he feels guilty when he hurts others because of it.
Peter sighs dramatically, “Ugh, fine”.
”Yayyyy!” Wade squeals so loud that Peter winces. “You can change in the bedroom. I have it laid out for you so don’t go into my drawers unless you wanna learn how many brands of water-based lube there are,” Wade winks before he dips down to open a secret drawer in the kitchen island and pulls out a pair of black Hello Kitty-themed pants and an apron to match.
“See youuuuu,” Wade sings before heading to the bathroom.
Peter exits 3 minutes after Wade—he was debating whether he should fold his own pants and leave them in the room or take them out with him—and can hear Wade starting the recipe. Peter didn’t see a top in the pile of clothes Wade assigned him so he kept on his Slushy Noobz “find x” t-shirt.
When Peter turned the corner, he realized that Wade didn’t have a matching shirt either. Actually, he didn’t have a shirt on.
Wade was faced away from Peter and mixing the batter while singing-humming “Exitin” by Cece Natalie so Peter had an uninterrupted view of his back as he moved.
This wasn’t the first time that Peter had seen him topless. It wasn’t like it was uncommon but it was usually due to very distinct circumstances. Like, if it got torn pretty badly during a fight or something.
But this was…different.
Peter was frozen in the hallway as he watched the muscles in Wade’s arms and back move to whisk the particularly thick batter. He doesn’t know how long he stood there watching the man like he was seeing water for the first time after being in the desert for weeks.
He broke the silence with a cough that sounded a little too fake for his liking, “You started without me”.
Wade whipped around, “Ugh, you are a wet dream, baby boy, sweet lord!” The apron presses against Wade’s chest but, god, do those biceps make up for it. “And I only added water to the batter!” Wade continues stirring, not faltering for a second.
Peter nods, absentmindedly, “Okay”.
The image of Wade saying, “What that is your feeling, I want you to do it to me,” while body rolling had been seared into Peter’s brain.
Later that night Peter’s dreams played out in that same event but then it got all warped and suddenly Peter was bent over the counter with Wade asking him to read the directions in between thrusts.
“S-stir…in, ah, jalapeños…”
That aside, Peter’s been able to be pretty normal around Wade in the real world.
Sure he’s been more aware of how surprisingly nice his voice is when he’s not trying to blow out Peter’s eardrums.
And the fact that he can see how nice Wade’s eyes and smile are when he takes his mask off.
And how literally all of Wade’s clothes hug all of his…yeah.
And how he towers over Peter so effortlessly.
“Sooo,” Wade interrupts Peter’s daydream. “Are you gonna come in or…?”
Wade answers the door with a black short-sleeve compression shirt that squeezes him oh so tight and some low-hanging gray sweats.
He’s the Devil sent by God himself to torture me.
Peter shakes himself—inconspicuously, of course—back to reality. ”Yeah, sorry, I-uh spaced out for a moment.” Peter steps past Wade’s broad figure and heads towards the couch. It’s new and very expensive-looking.
“No hay problema, mi amor,” Wade says in an attractively good accent and follows Peter. “Sorry, I kept you waiting. I couldn’t hear your little delivery boy knock over my playlist; you know how I get about Cece Natalie!”
Peter sits on the couch as he swats away the image of Dream-Wade biting his lower lip as he rhythmically rolls his hips into Peter, using those arms to hold him steady.
Real-Wade stands in front of him and starts singing, “I wanna test the limits of my, la, la, laaa!” Wade sways his hips ignorantly a few mere feet away from the younger man.
Peter is fighting to keep his jaw from hitting his lap and trying to get his eyes from catching onto Wade’s waist for too long when he realizes something that his mouth says faster than his brain can think,
“You’re not wearing any underwear?”
Peter mentally facepalms. I am the dumbest person ever in life.
Wade paused his performance to gasp at Peter’s question, “Petey! You know it’s rude to stare at a lady’s assets?!” He feigns offense and continues with a short laugh, “Well if you must know, no. But only at home, I’m not an animal!”
Peter can already feel his neurons firing up.
My brain seems to think otherwise. This is so stupid.
“What’s stupid?”
Wade responds because of course Peter said the last part out loud.
Peter tells himself to lock in—mentally this time!
“Um. Nothing, forget it. I’m gonna shower. Do you have some clothes and a toothbrush I could borrow?” Peter changes the subject to keep from embarrassing himself further and gets up to walk towards the bathroom. They’re having a sleepover, yes, a sleepover.
Wade asked Peter after he saw him dozing off in the middle of patrol last night. He asked Peter what was wrong, to which he made up some lie about his neighbors playing music too loudly. Wade offered to speak to them and Peter quickly denied, knowing that it would result in some random neighbor being intimidated over a lie. One thing led to another and Peter convinced Wade not to terrorize his neighbors as long as he stayed the night the next day since he had work in the morning.
Wade’s apartment is closer to the cafe so Peter decided to just head straight there when he clocked out. He was already at Wade’s door when he realized he had forgotten to bring his spend-the-night bag with him.
“Of course, sweetcakes! Lemme grab ‘em,” Wade leaves and then reappears with a pile of clothes. Peter sees what looks like some socks, a black sweatshirt, and those same black Hello Kitty bottoms from two weeks ago.
“C’mon, baby boy. You can do it,” rings through Peter’s head like church bells at noon. He gestures his arms out for the clothes as Wade continues.
Wade walks closer, “Your towel is already hanging on the rack and you can use whatever soaps you like. The sweatshirt is too small for me so you can keep it and since you took yours home with you, you can wear these. My ass is too fat so I know they’re gonna be huge but they have a drawstring so just tie it up”.
Wade gently places them in his hands and their fingers brush against each other. Peter jumps at the feeling and immediately examines the taller—so much taller—man for his reaction. He’s met with a curiously amused but…knowing (?) look and Peter swallows thickly.
“Damn, you really do need some sleep, if I’m getting you all worked up like this,” Wade smirks as the flushed man under him. Peter chokes on his saliva and gives a very real cough, “Huh-, I-, Illbebackinasecond”. Peter says in a half-breath and scurries to the shower.
“The toothbrush is on the counter!” Wade calls out before Peter slams the door and makes the water scalding hot.
—
The shower calmed him down a lot and he was almost ready to face Wade again. He spent the time it took for him to brush his teeth to reason with himself.
Finding your friends attractive is normal. He hasn’t had a real relationship in years and Wade is the closest one to him, it’s only expected that something like this would happen eventually. A little friend-crush is normal.
As he spits the toothpaste down the drain, his mind wanders again.
But do I like him? I mean, he’s annoying and missing a screw or two but he’s also one of the best people I know.
Peter recalls all the times Wade had been there for Peter when he would be having a particularly bad day or even bad weeks. He always helped him and asked for nothing in return. Even now, Peter is staying at his house because Wade was worried about him. He looks down at the oversized Regina, Saskatchewan sweatshirt and the infamous Hello Kitty pajamas.
Peter’s heart speeds up again when he realizes he might have a capital-C Crush on his best friend. Peter sighs. I really am the dumbest person ever in life.
He reasons that it doesn’t matter. It’s not like Wade likes him seriously anyway. He knows Wade finds him attractive—he’s at least smart enough to know that—and he jokes about it all the time but there’s no way he would actually make a move.
Real-Wade is not Dream-Wade. He’s not just gonna sweep Peter off his feet and randomly confess his love for him.
Peter rinses his mouth with Listerine as he thinks about the man sitting in the living room and how he’s supposed to handle this.
Should I just leave? No, that’s too mean. I don’t even think he’d let me. Do I just ignore it?
Peter thinks about how good he’s been at trying to ignore it and images of Peter’s face being pressed against the shower tile, the wall, the pillow, the counter as Wade bites at his neck and whispers the dirtiest things Peter’s mind can muster in his ear flood his mind at rapid speed. He almost chokes on the mouthwash and lets it fall into the sink as he coughs and wipes his mouth.
“Petey?” Wade shouts from the living room.
Peter leaves to walk in the living room when he sees Wade has himself propped up against the armrest with his leg up on the cushion. Peter’s catching print like crazy right now and confirms that everything about Wade is big.
Wade uses his forearms to sit himself up and turns to Peter,“¿Todo bien, cariño?” Wade questions with a worried look and that sexy accent that makes Peter swear this is just the start of one of his dreams.
Peter is enthralled.
He nods his head and continues standing there.
“So, are you gonna come watch the movie?” Wade says with an amused expression.
“Oh- Yeah!” Peter sounds just as flustered as he feels and Wade notices.
Peter walks over to the couch and sits on the farthest corner—4 feet away—and faces the TV. Wade’s eyes move with him, entertained by Peter’s antics. He drinks in Peter’s nervousness.
Peter’s sitting with his legs pressed together and his hands in his lap like a guy who talked a big game over text and didn’t expect to get this far.
Wade plays the game with him, “Why you so far?” Peter glances, refusing to move anything but his head. The way Wade’s arms are straining against the cuffs of his shirt has him looking for a second too long.
“That shower must’ve done a number on you, huh?” Wade laughs and so many memories of Dream-Wade play in Peter’s head that he swears he can feel Wade touching him again.
Wait, he is.
Peter inhales sharply at the sudden contact. Wade sat up fully to grab Peter’s leg to put it on the couch and it pulled them closer in the process. Peter is facing Wade, positioned similarly to him but now his foot is worryingly close to Wade’s dick with mere inches of air and millimeters of fabric being the only things separating them.
“Wade, what are-”
“I won’t bite,” Wade interrupts. “Pinky promise. I mean,” he adds, “unless you want me to”. He smiles at the flush that’s probably coloring Peter’s face and neck.
Peter lets out the air he’s been holding, “Yeah, right,” he says in disbelief.
Wade lies back against the couch with a satisfied look.
Am I really that obvious?
—
After about half an hour, Peter gives up on trying to pay attention to the movie. Sometime between earlier and now, Wade got hard. Peter doesn’t know how many times he’s snuck a peek by this point but each glance got progressively longer until he had been staring for maybe, what, 5 seconds at a time.
He had been in the middle of one of his “peeks” when Wade began to speak, still facing the TV.
”If you wanna fuck, just let me know.”
Peter fully snaps his head over to the man, “Huh?!”
His heart beat picks up again as Wade turns to him calmly, “Baby boy, you’ve been eyeing me up and down all night”.
Peter begins to open his mouth, “I-, I don’t know-” All he can muster are beginnings to half sentences when Wade starts to sit up again.
“Actually, you’ve been doing it for the past two weeks. Believe me, I don’t mind it at all, I’m just surprised. I have no clue what you’re seeing. All I know is that you like it.” He observes the younger man in a way that lets him know there’s no lie Peter can tell to change Wade’s mind.
No better time than now.
Peter sighs, “Yeah”.
“Yeah?” Wade questions, encouraging Peter to say more—everything.
“Yes…I…” Peter considers just shutting his stupid mouth up now. Save himself from all the bad that will follow him from this moment forward. But, Wade looks at him with this vulnerability in his eyes and Peter can’t.
Peter readjusts himself so he can sit up properly and Wade does the same and moves closer.
Stupid Hello Kitty pants.
“I think I have a crush on you,” he blurts. “I think it started after we were cooking that day in the kitchen or maybe I always had it and that was the final straw. I don’t know.” Peter breathes a quick huff.
“You’re so nice to me for whatever reason and you let me eat your food and sleep over all because I lied to you about why I couldn’t sleep.” Wade is about to ask him what he means when Peter beats him to it.
“You were shirtless in that stupid apron and singing and mixing and rolling and it made me feel all weird and I was trying to just ignore it but then the dreams started and it’s been stuck in my head ever since.” Peter gets lost in his prattling.
“And it’s been ruining my life. And to top it all off, today, you started fucking acting like dream-you and I know this probably sounds so fucking stupid-”
Wade cuts Peter off with a kiss that clears any thought he could have had concerning Wade joking about wanting him and cages Peter’s nape with his hands.
Peter takes a second to process what’s happening, when he does, he responds by holding onto Wade’s arms and pulling him in deeper.
It’s rough and passionate and coaxes a moan from Peter that he couldn’t hold in.
Wade breaks the kiss, keeping their faces close, “I think you and your nerd brain can’t sound stupid”. Wade reassures him, “And I like you too, if that wasn’t obvious”. Wade moves one of Peter’s hands to the hard-on he’s been sporting, “You looked so fucking sexy staring at me like that in my clothes with that Virgin-Mary blush on your face”.
Peter takes the invitation to look at the length under his hand and feels like he’s gonna faint.
Peter can feel himself throbbing when he cautiously asks, “Did you mean what you said earlier?” Peter slowly lifts his gaze.
Wade’s eyes meet him there, “Does it feel like I meant it,” his cock twitches under Peter’s fingers.
Peter nods his head.
Wade wets and takes his bottom lip between his teeth, “You wanna do something about it?”
Peter exhales, “Yes.” It comes out broken but Peter couldn’t care less as Wade takes the opportunity to kiss him again.
Wade uses the hand he has resting on Peter’s neck, snakes it through his hair, and pulls.
Peter gasps and Wade deepens the kiss again. Peter swears he never needs to breathe again if he can stay in this moment forever.
Wade then moves his hands to Peter’s waist and thigh and lifts Peter up and onto him with an ease that sends a shiver down the spider’s spine.
The kiss is broken for another moment when Peter bites back a moan from feeling the merc’s cock against him.
Wade grunts for him, “Fuck, are you not wearing any underwear?” The two open their eyes and Wade uses the leverage he has on Peter to move him back and forth on his lap.
Peter says meekly, “You—ah—didn’t g-give me any,” as he tries his best to hold eye contact and not miss a single second.
Wade’s eyes darken, “You have so much nerve.” Wade stops his movements to tug on Peter’s—his—pants, “Take these off for me?”
Peter does just that and is about to get back on top of Wade when he notices that the other hadn’t taken his own off.
Wade must catch his hesitation because he pulls Peter to him again and Peter’s knees place themselves on either side of his thighs. “Don’t worry about me, let me take care of you,” Wade licks a small stripe up Peter’s neck before he nibbles and kisses it.
Peter arches and rocks his hips to feel that friction again. He can feel Wade hum in approval against the skin and start rolling with him. Peter knows he’s leaving a wet patch on Wade’s pants, but the way Wade is touching him keeps him from harping on it.
Wade dips under the fabric of Peter’s—also his—sweatshirt and relents on his assault on Peter’s neck to pull it off. He kisses and nips at Peter’s chest with an unbreakable focus as Peter makes a strangled noise at the feeling.
Wade kisses the fourth hickey into his skin before Peter whines with closed eyes, “Please—mmmm, Wa-ade, I need more”.
Wade stops to look up at the hero perched on him. “Ah, amorcito, you’re so impatient.” Wade lifts Peter a bit and slides a hand off Peter’s side across his abdomen and down between his thighs.
“Does dream-me have something against foreplay?” Peter doesn’t respond to the question, and Wade uses his middle digits to feel the amount of arousal Peter has pooling out of him. He can feel Wade’s eyes on him.
“Hmm?” He presses one then two shallowly inside, then again only back out.
Peter tries to sink onto them, but Wade pulls out before he can and continues. Peter will explode if he doesn’t get some relief so he gives the man what he wants.
“I don’t know, Wade—hmph, please. It usually starts in the middle of it.”
Peter is rewarded with the girth of Wade’s fingers finally pressing into him fully, “Yeah?”
Peter desperately shakes his head yes, “And it feels so good, but I always wake up before I get there”.
“Is that right?” Wade makes a “come hither” motion and presses right against the bundle of nerves inside Peter.
Peter's eyes flutter open to Wade’s, and he dissolves into a broken record of “ah, ah, ah, ah” as he feels the heat build in his stomach.
Wade assures him, “I’ll get you there tonight, okay,” with so much sincerity that his fingers pull every doubt out of Peter from inside. He meets Peter for another chaste kiss, and he watches him unravel.
Peter held onto Wade’s amazingly large shoulders and started bucking against Wade’s wrist at some point. All Peter can think about is how unreal and so fucking good all of this feels. He can feel himself clenching around Wade's fingers and getting closer when Wade prompts him,
“C’mon, baby boy. You can do it”.
Peter shudders as his orgasm rushes through him, “F-fuck”. He collapses onto Wade as he continues to work Peter through it.
“There you go, there you go,” he whispers gently into Peter’s ear as he slows down and removes himself, soothing Peter’s sides.
Peter sits there, damp and fucked out, when he feels Wade remove his hands and shift a bit under him.
“Baby, can you lift yourself again for me,” he asks Peter through the ringing in his ears.
Peter obeys without comment.
“Thank you, you’re so good for me.” Wade shifts again and uses a hand to hold onto Peter’s waist as he guides him down. “I really tried to wait a little longer, but the sounds and faces you make are pure sin, Petey baby.”
Peter feels himself sinking onto Wade’s cock, and it takes him out of the fog, “Ahh, wait, fuck, oh my god”.
Wade thrusts into Peter’s heat halfway and purrs, “I know. I’m so sorry,” in a way that makes Peter almost believe his words. “I’ll try to go slow, fuck, you feel so good. You’re so fucking wet for me, ah,” Wade continues to press Peter’s hips down, down, down until he’s almost fully mounted atop Wade’s lap, whimpering.
“Shit.” Wade circles his hips, “Are you okay?” Peter can hear how strained Wade sounds. Peter starts to adjust to the feeling and lifts his head to observe him.
“Yes,” he says on his way up and he scans Wade's face. Wade’s eyes are closed, and his breaths are shallow, and Peter can tell that he’s really trying not to move, but Peter just had to open his mouth, “You’re a bit bigger than I thought you were gonna be—FUCK,” Wade snaps his hips the rest of the way and starts fucking up into Peter.
“Hah, I’m so so sorry, baby. Shit, mm, you can’t—ah, say things like that when I’m, fuck, inside you, lovely,” Wade thrusts his apology into Peter over and over again.
Peter is seeing the wonders of the universe as Wade fucks him. He can tell Wade is still trying to hold back. “Peter?” Wade addresses him by his name, a rare occasion, and Peter tries to focus on Wade's eyes again as his heart almost bursts from his ribcage.
His pupils are blown out as he asks, “Can I go faster, please? I promise it’ll feel good, just please, I-, fuck”. Wade’s movements speed up for just a moment.
Wade’s eyes flutter close, “Fuckkkk, I’m sorry, Peter, please, please, please, please.” Wade rolls each and every please into him, and Peter tries his best to get out something that sounds as close to “yes” as he could muster.
Wade relaxes and smiles a bit as Peter watches him open his eyes and look at him as if he were sent down from the clouds just for Wade.
He also watches Wade slowly catch and drag his bottom lip from under his teeth as that wanting expression returns, and Wade uses Peter’s waist to meet his own hips hungrily. Peter can hear himself panting out those ah’s again.
Wade's tone steadies despite the brutal pace, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this to you”. He stares right into Peter’s perverted soul.
Peter tried to look away, overwhelmed by the act. Wade doesn’t allow it and follows his gaze, “Don’t act shy now, baby boy. This is what you’ve been thinking about for the past two weeks, right?”
Peter returns to Wade again as he continues, “I’ve been dreaming about you for so much longer—fuck. Hmm, you liked that”. Wade could feel Peter tense around him at the thought.
Wade gets that up-to-no-good glint in his eyes, “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, baby. You’ve been the star of every thought for years”. Peter can feel the knot building faster than before.
“When I noticed how you were looking at me that day in the kitchen, I wanted to bend you over then and there.” Peter’s hips are moving on their own again, and he feels Wade's rhythm break.
“And, ah, now you look so beautiful riding me like you can’t help it—mmph,” Peter crashes his lips into Wade as the knot snaps.
Wade keeps pounding into him as he goes over the edge too; their tongues danced wet and rushed, but so satisfyingly.
Wade finally comes to a stop, and Peter feels like static as they continue to kiss until the fuzziness in Peter’s head dissipates.
Peter speaks first, “You’re even better than I dreamed”.
Wade laughs, bewildered, “Igualmente, mi corazón!”