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The Spirit of Giving

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“Man, what a day,” Peter said hanging his winter coat up on the hook next to the door. “I am so full. My aunt really outdid herself with dinner and presents.”

Wade stomped into the apartment after him, kicking snow off his boots and dumping his coat haphazardly on the floor under the hook. “She sure did.” He looked down at the bag of gifts they'd brought home. “What are we even going to do with a French press? I'm way too lazy for that shit.”

Peter laughed. “It means she wants us to invite her over more.”

“But that means clothes!” Wade whined.

“Hey, take your boots off before you take another step into the apartment. I just cleaned the floor a week ago.” He loved Wade, but Wade was a worse mess than he was.

“Yes, mother!” Wade said, but he pulled his boots off anyway.

Peter rolled his eyes and grinned. He was still feeling warm and happy from spending the day with his aunt and Wade, with a surprise visit from MJ. It had been so nice. It was great to have his aunt back in town. The Bahamas had been good for her old bones, but he understood the love and draw of New York.

As well as her other reasons for coming back, but he wasn't going to think about that right then.

The grown up eggnog he'd drunk was also still sitting all nice and happy in his stomach, and this was his and Wade's first holiday together as a couple. Nobody could blame him for feeling all fuzzy.

“Hey Petey, what do you want me to do with Miles’ gift?” Wade asked.

“Oh, just shove it in the hall closet. I'll give it to him when he comes over on New Year’s.” Peter was shuffling into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate, pouring milk into a glass measuring cup to shove in the microwave. Enough for both of them, of course.

Wade muttered a little to himself, but Peter didn't quite catch what he was saying. It was in that tone of voice that he had decided was best not to bother Wade about because he was probably being irritated about something, so he didn't mention it.

“You wanna watch A Christmas Story?” Wade asked, sliding up behind Peter where he was stood in front of the microwave and wrapping strong, warm arms around his waist.

“Hell no,” Peter said, shuddering in Wade’s grip. “That movie creeps me the hell out.”

Wade twisted around to look at his face. “What, seriously? Why? It’s a classic!”

“Oh, so many reasons.” Peter, in his mind’s eye, saw all the imagery from that movie that made him twitchy. The Santa foot in the face, that creepy disembodied leg lamp, the awful color scheme of the entire movie. Now that he thought about it, though, it was definitely the type of thing that Wade would like. Maybe he'd indulge him later.

For now, he said, “What about Muppet Christmas Carol?”

“The one where Kermit and Miss Piggy are married and have a bunch of children and all the girls are pigs and the boys are frogs because they're too heterosexual to make it random and too cowardly to design a pig-frog hybrid Muppet?”

“Um. Yes.”

“I love that movie!”

After they each had their mug of hot chocolate, and Peter had dug through an embarrassingly old box of DVDs to find the movie, the two of them settled onto the couch together. The movie was filled with just as many ridiculous puns and dumb humor as they remembered, which suited the pair’s generally awful sense of humor.

There were a couple moments where Wade grew rather quiet, which was more common lately than Peter knew what to do with. Asking about it would just result in some frustrating deflection, so he let it go and decided to snuggle up against Wade instead. He was rewarded with the warm weight of Wade’s arm draped over his shoulder.

When his hot chocolate was gone, Peter set his mug down on the coffee table and flopped down across Wade’s lap for the last portion of the movie. They made nonsense commentary on the special effects, the logistics of interspecies muppet marriage, and how much better this movie was than Jim Carrey’s CGI mocap nightmare. Comparing that movie in turn to The Polar Express, and what a blessing it was that nobody had made any more movies like that in years.

All the while, Wade’s rough fingers stroked through Peter’s hair, giving him the most pleasant feeling of contentment. They were together, that’s what was the most important. Also important was how nice the warmth of Wade’s fuzzy pajama pants were against Peter’s cheek.

That wasn’t the only thing on his mind, though. While tuning out the campy song at the end of the movie, Peter rubbed his hand over Wade’s thigh and down his knee. “Speaking of the season of giving.”

“Hmm?” Wade hummed, fingers massaging Peter’s scalp pleasantly.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Wade laughed. “Baby boy, you’re always thinking. And it always gets you into trouble.”

“Oh, I’ve been thinking of giving you something.”

“Isn’t that normal during the holidays?”

Peter smirked. “Mm, I suppose…”

Wade’s eye rolling was almost audible. “All right, mister mystery, spit it out.”

“Well, I was going to swallow.”

Wade’s entire body stiffened as he realized what Peter was getting at. His entire body, which Peter could tell because there was suddenly something hot and thick pressing against the back of his head. “Uh.”

“How verbose,” Peter said, smirking. Shuffling on the couch, he sat up and put both hands on Wade’s startled face to kiss him deeply. “Just to be clear,” he murmured against Wade’s lips, feeling Wade’s breath puffing out against his skin. “I want to give you a blow job.”

“Oh,” Wade said, staring at Peter with dark eyes, pupils dilated with all kinds of dirty thoughts and feelings, Peter was sure. “Oh hell yeah. How could I possibly say no?”

Peter ran a thumb over Wade’s lower lip, and with his other hand he pressed firmly against the bulge in the front of Wade’s trousers. While he had been thinking about it a lot, it wasn’t something he had done before, but he was going to make sure that Wade enjoyed it anyway. “You’ll have to bear with me, this is my first time.”

“Hnngh,” Wade’s face contorted and his brows drew together while Peter knelt down in front of him, pressing his thighs apart with his torso. Peter shoved up Wade’s shirt and started laying kisses across his mottled skin. “Pete, you don’t--” he swallowed, “--I don’t want you to feel like, uh, obligated.”

Peter pressed his tongue flat against Wade’s abs and looked up at him as he licked a stripe up towards his chest.

“Fuck.”

“Who’s obligated?” Peter snorted softly. “I want to do this.” He went back to kissing and nibbling on Wade’s skin, curling fingers under the elastic of his waistband and just sliding them along his waist in teasing soft touches. Bending his head, he put his lips against Wade’s bulge through the fuzzy fabric of his pajamas and hummed, rubbing his face back and forth.

Fuck,” Wade repeated, slipping his fingers into Peter’s hair and then letting go again. “Leave room for Jesus down there. It’s his birthday after all.”

“Shut up, Wade.”

“No, seriously, I feel like you should really take into considerati--oohhhh god.” Wade’s comment cut off when Peter suddenly yanked Wade’s waistband down and put his lips right around the head of Wade’s cock.

Peter was prepared for the usual things people talked about with regards to giving head, unpleasant ones included. He immediately noticed the salty taste and the texture of Wade’s skin. Thankfully, giving Wade attention like this did well to shut him up, aside from the gasping noises of pleasure, so Peter went right into exploring and experimenting.

It helped a lot that all the sounds coming from Wade’s mouth were really hot. It was absolutely worth it for that alone, as well as the view he got when he rolled his eyes up. Gazing up the expanse of Wade’s chiseled abs and seeing that look on his face as Peter rolled his tongue and started bobbing his head. Wade’s indecision on where to put his hands was also kind of cute, and Peter decided to help him out by firmly grabbing Wade’s wrist to put his hand in Peter’s hair.

When Peter teased his tongue along the slit in Wade’s cock, Wade gasped and tugged his hair, and immediately apologized. “You okay?” Wade gasped.

“Mm,” Peter replied, not wanting to pull his mouth off Wade’s dick. He just circled his fingers around the base and started stroking while he hollowed his cheeks and went harder. Wade’s squirming and jerking his hips, and his efforts to calm himself down, were just so damn hot, Peter’s own erection was oozing precum into his boxers.

Not having any practice at this, but knowing what he himself liked--and he figured that Wade tended to also give head the way he liked--Peter took his time, taking breaks to breathe as needed. He always ignored Wade’s assertions that he didn’t have to keep going if he didn’t want to, because he damn well did want to.

After a while, Peter couldn’t handle it anymore and he had to palm himself when he increased his pace on Wade’s dick, determined to finish him off properly. He could tell when Wade was getting close by the change in his breathing, the little hitching noises when he inhaled, his soft moans, and the way he’d forgotten to resist curling his fingers hard in Peter’s hair.

Peter’s hand was down his pants and stroking his own cock by the time Wade gasped that he was about to cum. Peter moaned against Wade’s sensitive skin, jerking himself harder as he shoved his face down harder on Wade’s cock and held his breath. Hot liquid shot against the back of his throat and he squeezed with tongue and fingers, swallowing around the flesh in his mouth. He spilled his own load and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as some of Wade’s cum dribbled out the corner of his mouth.

The fingers tugging Peter’s hair let go immediately, and Peter pulled off.

“How was that?” he croaked. Maybe he’d overdone it a little.

Wade was still panting a little as he caught his breath after orgasm, and he reached out a hand to swipe his thumb over the trickle of jizz on Peter’s face. Before he could wipe it off on something else, Peter grabbed his wrist and sucked Wade’s thumb into his mouth to clean it off himself.

“God damn, baby boy,” Wade said.

Peter chuckled and coughed softly. “A positive assessment?”

“Come here,” Wade demanded, tugging on Peter’s shirt to pull him up so that he could kiss him. He held him tight, and by unspoken agreement they lay down together on the couch and made out for a few minutes, sighing against each other. Wade didn’t seem to mind the not-great taste still filling Peter’s mouth, so Peter didn’t mention it.

“Mistletoe kiss this morning and a blowjob this evening. I feel so pampered!” Wade said, smoothing his hands over Peter’s ass and massaging in the way he’d found Peter liked the best.

For his part, Peter felt like a mess, with a change of shorts in order, but he was too happy and satisfied to care. “Good. Mission accomplished.”

Probably one of the best Christmas evenings either of them had had in a while.