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your love is my confessional

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"Baby boy, I wanna date the shit out of you, if you'd let me. I wanna take you out and wine and dine you and Netflix and chill with you."

It wasn't that Peter didn't believe Deadpool when he'd told Peter that he wanted to date him. It was just… after Peter'd accepted them as a… a thing? Boyfriends? He just hadn't really thought that they would. Date, that is. He more expected that they would continue as they had been, but more frequently and with less fighting it on Peter's part. But here they were a week after the Pancake Incident, as Peter had taken to calling it, sitting down in a theater with popcorn and drinks like a normal couple. It was… weird. He wasn't sure if he liked it, but when Deadpool dragged him out to see some action flick (Peter hadn't even been paying attention to what), he hadn't resisted.

"I've been wanting to see this movie forever I'm so excited," Deadpool said gleefully, voice quiet and muffled by the medical mask he wore to hide the lower half of his face. He'd actually tried to leave the apartment in full suit, which Peter had immediately nay-sayed, and a sweater, jeans, and med mask had been the compromise, keeping almost as much of Deadpool's skin covered as his costume. A thick arm, warm and heavy, settled across Peter's shoulders as Deadpool leaned closer, and Peter shifted in his seat. Even though he'd agreed to be a willing part of… 'them', it was something that would take him a while to get used to, Deadpool's casual affection even more so. "I'm really glad you came with me, baby boy," Deadpool whispered, pressing a masked kiss to his temple.

"Er, you're welcome," Peter said uncomfortably because what else could he say?

Thankfully, Deadpool took pity on him and smoothly moved into a steady stream of surprisingly quiet opinions regarding the previews as they came and went, dictating which ones did or didn't deserve his time and why. It wasn't any different than what they'd done in the past, except for the fact that they were in public instead of the privacy of Peter's apartment, and the openness meant Peter was practically crawling out of his skin with the unfamiliarity of the whole situation. Deadpool kept shoving handfuls of popcorn into his mouth as if their mere presence together in the theater wasn't a monumentally groundbreaking event, lowering and lifting his medical mask each time, but Peter couldn't help but be tense, to grip the hard metal arms so tightly that he had to concentrate on not imprinting his fingers into them.

The only thing providing him a sense of comfort, of safety, was the familiar weight of Deadpool's arm across his shoulders. For years, he'd known that as long as Deadpool was touching him, he'd be taken care of, and that was just as true as ever, if not more so, now that he was vocally amiable to… them. So when that arm drew back when the lights went down, he went rigid with tension.

"Sh, baby boy," Deadpool whispered right next to his ear, sending heat all the way down to his belly. Leather-gloved fingers pried his bare ones from the arm rest and put them on the side of the popcorn bucket, apparently in order to lift the arm between them. "I want you to hold on to the popcorn bucket for me, okay?"

Deadpool asked in that particular voice again, the one that meant he wanted something from Peter and that Peter would be rewarded for if he listened. At some point, he was going to have to ask about that voice because it was very effective and only seemed to be used sparingly. And only during sex. Which was, conveniently, the time that Peter was least capable of remembering that he needed to ask about it. Still, he grabbed the popcorn bucket with both hands and nodded his head, and he got a pleased hum vibrating the lobe of his ear in such a way that it sent a shiver through the whole of his body. But then Deadpool reached for the zipper of his jeans and Peter jerked, grabbing Deadpool's wrist with his free hand in a grip that was probably the wrong side of tight.

"What are you doing?" he hissed as the opening credits started rolling. Despite the white text, the background was black, keeping the theater in darkness, but movies never stayed that way for long and Peter had no intention of being arrested for public indecency.

"Making you feel good and relaxed, baby boy," Deadpool whispered back, the tips of his fingers stroking over Peter's soft dick and making him harden. As much as Peter was trying to grit his teeth to keep an erection from forming, by this point, Deadpool could probably just tell him to get hard and he would. He just didn't want to do it in a theater surrounded by a hundred other people. "No need to panic. I picked these seats for a reason."

They were in the top corner seats, which didn't mean much exactly when they were right at the top of a staircase, but Peter was closer to the stairs and Deadpool's larger body was between him and everyone else in the row. He was big enough to shield them from Peter's view, which likely meant the reverse too. And as long as he wasn't too obvious in what he was doing, then they shouldn't get caught. But one wrong move, one moan from Peter during a quiet scene, one person climbing the stairs, one person getting up from their seat, and the game would be over and they would be in so much trouble. Still, his fingers were already loosening from Deadpool's wrist and Deadpool was unzipping his jeans to pull out his dick.

Peter inhaled sharply when a firm, leather-encased hand wrapped solidly around his length, keeping it angled down towards the popcorn, and then just… stayed there. The opening credits were ending and the movie was starting and Deadpool was just… holding Peter's dick. He was as chill and still as if they were just holding hands, but Peter's cock was just out in the open air, shielded only by Deadpool's body and the bucket of popcorn. And there was the way the tight grip was making him too-conscious of his racing heart, of how it only got faster the longer they sat there and did nothing. Despite his trepidation, despite his fear, there was something about the situation that just made him so hard, so aroused, just like when they first got together and being with Deadpool felt so taboo. Deadpool wasn't even stroking him, and yet Peter was so turned on he could hardly breathe, much less pay attention to the movie.

Somehow, as Peter was sitting there frozen in that weird mix of aroused and petrified, Deadpool just kept eating that popcorn. It was the only thing giving Peter any measure of time, because he wasn't even sure his brain was absorbing any of the movie through either his eyes or ears. Just everything was a haze around him except that one point of contact between him and Deadpool, and his gaze fixed on the slowly disappearing popcorn. When a third of it was gone, Deadpool finally moved his hand, sliding his fist to the tip of Peter's cock and then back down. His glove had become slick with sweat from his humid grasp, and the stroke was a strange mix of wet and dry, but it still sent arousal zinging through Peter's system and his fingers almost ripped the bucket in his hands apart when he jerked.

"Sh sh sh," Deadpool hushed against his ear, and it took Peter a moment to realize it sounded like he was choking before he forced his vocal cords to shut down. Luckily, although more likely because Deadpool had planned it, the screen was covered with explosions that were blasting out the speakers and Peter could barely hear himself. He turned his head towards Deadpool's shoulder until a kiss was pressed against his hair and Deadpool shrugged him off. "Stay upright, baby boy. We gotta keep up the game."

He nodded shakily and locked down all of his muscles. It was a good thing he did because he almost flung the popcorn over the crowd when Deadpool stroked him a second time, but this time he didn't stop. All of Peter's concentration went into being still and silent and not destroying the popcorn bucket Deadpool was still eating from at the same time he painstakingly jerked Peter off. His concentration and his arousal, that sweet fire in his veins, slowly eroded his worry of being discovered as his orgasm coiled tighter and tighter in his center.

It could have been because he hadn't seen Deadpool since the Pancake Incident, so they hadn't had sex since then, but even if Deadpool had fucked him when he'd woken Peter that morning, even if Peter had been sitting there with only his plug keeping Deadpool's com from leaking onto the theater's seat, Peter was certain it still would have felt like this. Sex with Deadpool was never not amazing, no matter if it was the first time that day or the tenth. Every moment of it made Peter feel like he was soaring to new heights and crashing over new cliffs, even though it was all the same as every time before. Deadpool was just that good, even if it was something so simple as a handjob, it seemed.

Peter's breath huffed out his nose in faster and faster exhales as he approached orgasm, and he carefully locked his jaw and shoved his head back into his seat to keep from thrashing when he came. Only, right when the moment came, Deadpool let go, Peter's eyes snapping open as that rocketing pressure simmered at the tip before fading away. For a long time, he could only stare unblinkingly into nothingness, deaf and blind to the sights and sounds of the movie. Only when his orgasm had faded back to the depths, leaving a dull pounding in its place, did he turn to look at Deadpool. Deadpool who was grinning and holding a finger to his lips in the universal "shhh" motion. Peter could only stare at him.

When his head rolled back to face forward again, mind stuck on the fact that Deadpool had almost just stroked him to orgasm and then abandoned him, right in the middle of (or corner of) a crowded theater, that leather-gloved hand wrapped back around his throbbing cock again. He couldn't help the way he arched a little out from his seat, chest pressing into the air as Deadpool began to stroke him again. It was just as slow and tight as the first time, but this time around, Peter had already reached peak once, and just that mere touch was enough to light him on fire. It made his entire body tremble as he forced his spine back to the chair, kept his mouth shut to keep any sounds from escaping. Not crushing something had never been so difficult, and the popcorn bucket on his knees shook from the effort of it. Deadpool just kept snacking.

The second time his orgasm threatened to overpower him, the popcorn was half gone, and Peter could barely stay still. He didn't know if he wanted Deadpool to stop more, or if he wanted Deadpool to let him come more. Stopping meant blue balls and no mess, whilst continuing meant satisfaction and one hell of an unexplainable mess. Before he could really think it through, he let go of the bucket with one hand, intent on grabbing Deadpool's wrist to still him, but before he could even make contact, Deadpool not only stopped, but let go completely. Let go in order to slap the same hand that had just been on Peter's dick over his mouth. And not a moment too soon because a whimper crawled up Peter's throat as his orgasm receded again and his hand hovered, helpless and empty, above his thigh. He could grab his own erection, he could, but he knew that wasn't part of the game. A game he'd already broken the rules of, he realized as Deadpool leaned in.

"Did I say you could let go of the popcorn?" Deadpool whispered, breath hot against the side of Peter's face.

It wasn't safe for Peter to loosen his jaw, even if Deadpool didn't have a hand over his mouth, so he shook his head and put his shaking fingers back to the greasy cardboard.

"Did you want to use your safeword?" Deadpool asked, just as softly, no judgement in his voice.

Even though Deadpool loved toeing the line of true exhibitionism, he'd always taken care to adhere to Peter's needs. If he'd thought that he couldn't hide their activities before they were for sure discovered, he wouldn't have started it to begin with. Someone might get a glimpse, might question what they were seeing, but that would be it. Peter shook his head again.

"Good boy," Deadpool whispered, making Peter shiver, and then his palm slowly pulled away from Peter's mouth. It left Peter's lips and cheeks feeling cold and slightly damp, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound when Deadpool wrapped a hand around him again. "Stay still, stay quiet," he reiterated against the side of Peter's head, and then went back to stroking him.

The movie passed in blurs of light colour, and bursts of sound. The popcorn in the bucket slowly disappeared as Deadpool stuffed his mouth with his free hand. And Peter edged closer and closer to losing his mind as Deadpool edged him again and again. At some point he'd begun to shake, every inch of his body trembling in the small theater seat along with the bucket in his lap, making the popcorn inside shift in a constant, soft susurrus. Peter couldn't remember the last time he'd been denied for so long, been driven to the edge only to be gentled back again and again until it felt like he could be stroked on any part of his skin and he could come. He wasn't sure if the consistent, snail-like pace of Deadpool's fist made everything better or worse, only that it was pure agony.

There was a hazy moment where he broke, where he tried to plead, but he only got as far as a rasped "Dead-" before he was being kissed. Deadpool's mouth was warm and wet and so heavy, a gravitational force sucking Peter in. His dick was being pressed to his belly, no longer encompassed by the firm circle of his fist but rather pressed flat with the broad spread of palm and digits. Peter almost reached for him in that moment, but the tips of fingers were stuck to the popcorn bucket from his Spidey powers. And as badly as he needed to come, Peter found himself in a strange sort of stasis, where everything was perfect and he could have gone on that way forever, pressed back into his seat with Deadpool's palm pressing into his belly and Deadpool's mouth devouring his.

The only thing that could have gone wrong was Deadpool stopping, which Peter hadn't considered a possibility. Until Deadpool actually did it. He kept their mouths sealed to absorb Peter's confused whines as he tucked Peter's too-hard cock back into his jeans and forced the zipper closed. Before Peter could find any words to express his opinion on this turn of events, the empty bucket was ripped from his fingers and strong fingers were wrapping around his wrist, dragging him blindly down the stairs. He barely registered them leaving the theater, and the only reason he was aware of it was the door banged when it hit the wall as Deadpool pushed ahead and the bounce-back almost knocked Peter from the leading grip dragging him along.

He was so dizzy with arousal, with need, that he didn't resist or even consider any form of rebellion. So when he was dragged through another door that also almost hit him, he barely registered that one either. The only thing that really clicked was the moment his back was slammed into a tiled wall, a metal bar digging into his lower back, and Deadpool devouring his mouth again. Between the tight press of their bodies as Deadpool sucked the breath from him, Peter could feel his jeans being opened again and his still-hard cock being pulled out. The second he hissed at the scrape of denim over sensitive flesh, Deadpool was gone.

Peter blinked at the wall opposite him, hands hanging in the air, before he realized Deadpool had dropped to his knees, and Peter's chin dropped so he could blink down at Deadpool instead. Deadpool's medical mask was down under his chin and he gave Peter a wink and a grin before sucking Peter's cock into his mouth. It was so unexpected after hours of nothing but a sweaty leather handjob that Peter's head jerked back hard enough to crack the tiles behind him. The immediate dull throbbing at the back of his skull nearly made him grimace, but it was washed away just as quickly by the distracting flare of pleasure from Deadpool swallowing him down.

A vacuum-like inhale almost made him come immediately, but he resisted with every last bit of resistance he was even remotely capable of. Trying to look down at Deadpool was like trying to lift his head on a Gravitron, and he was just as dizzy. Deadpool was exactly like a carnival ride: devouring him in the dark only to spin him around at the speed of light before spitting him back out disoriented and stupid. It took a few tries, but Peter did eventually manage it, and when he did, he fought an invisible gravity to raise his hands, to slide his palms against Deadpool's naked temples to push his hood back, to just cradle the back of his head.

"Dead-" he started to say, before remembering the silent promise he'd made his boyfriend, a silent promise he'd made himself so that he could be a better boyfriend to and for Wade. Or rather, one of the promises, the one that was simultaneously the easiest and the second-hardest to follow through with. "Wade," he said instead, a plea. But it wasn't enough. Peter stroked the curve of Wade's skull around his ear and said it again: "Wade."

Wade hummed around him and slid those warm, large hands up the back of Peter's calves to his thighs, pushing, lifting, and spreading at the same time. He made Peter slide just a little up the wall as he simultaneously draped both of Peter's legs over his shoulders, and it made Peter both dizzy and groan out loud when the shift was accompanied by a heartfelt deep-throat. The new position made helping a bit more difficult, but that didn't stop him from rolling his spine, trying to get more of that wet heat around his aching cock. Wade just rewarded him with another hum and the start of a rhythmic press at the base of Peter's plug that just barely grazed his prostate but it was more than enough.

"Wade Wade Wade Wade," Peter panted, fingers spasming around Wade's ears. When Wade hummed again, Peter forced his eyes open and was almost blinded by the sheer adoration on Wade's face. It was in that moment that he realized how special this must have been for Wade, to finally go on a date with Peter who'd barely tolerated him except for booty calls for years. And here they were, willingly together, willingly engaging in a form of sexual intercourse, and Peter was calling him by his name.

Warm emotion swelled in Peter's chest, his heart swelling with it, crawling up his throat. "I- I- I-" he tried, trying to force the sentiment into audible words. "Wade, I-" On his knees at Peter's feet, Peter's cock down his throat, Wade just grinned around Peter's cock, eyes crinkling, and pressed firmly on Peter's plug as his cheeks hollowed. Peter's orgasm finally broke the dam, flooding every vein with heat and blanking out his vision. Pleasure flowed through him like a waterfall, powerful and unrelenting, until his legs trembled from it.

When he came down from the fleeting high of his release, his jeans were already closed and his feet were already back on the ground, and Wade was pinning him to the wall with the warmth of his body, humming some song against his temple. Peter blinked at the red sweater over Wade's shoulder and felt exhaustion wash over him, but in the same moment, a strange energy and an even stranger hunger buoyed him, made him desperate.

Without a word of warning, he spun them around, almost tipping over when he wavered from the speed of the movement, only their hands on each other keeping him upright. Wade was frowning at him, lips parted in surprise and reaching for his face, when Peter dropped to his knees so quickly that the shock rolled up his thighs. Even if it could have hurt him, he didn't have the patience to deal with it at the moment, so he ignored the sensation as he reached for the zipper on Wade's jeans and the thick erection underneath. Gloved fingers blanketed his, stilling them, and his heart lurched as he looked frantically upwards.

"Petey, you don't have to do this," Wade said softly, still frowning as his fingers curled around Peter's. "I know what you were trying to say and you still don't have to say it if you don't want to or can't. And you definitely don't ever have to pay me back for anything I do to you. You don't owe me reciprocation. I told you, I just want to make you feel good."

"I know, I just-" Peter started and then stalled, unable to describe the need driving him. "I just-" he tried again, and then broke off with a growl of frustration. "I just do!" he insisted, looking up at Wade. "Please, Wade. Please let me suck your cock."

Said cock, still bound in denim under Peter's palm, twitched, and Wade inhaled sharply, eyes wide. "You sure, baby boy? You sure this is something you actually want?" It was technically a fair question; Peter had never tried to start something with Wade before, not even in the last week since the Pancake Incident. But Peter wasn't in the mood for fair questions right now. All he was in the mood for was getting that cock in his mouth.

"I'm positive, Wade. I can't say it yet, and I'm sorry, but I can show it and I just want to do this for you, please, I promise," he stressed, pawing a little at Wade's zipper and the hard-on underneath. He could see the indecision on Wade's face, could feel it in the unwavering tension through the legs he was leaning into, the belly he was pressing kisses to through the thick hoodie hiding all of Deadpool's glorious muscles from view. "Wade," he whined, his desire only ratcheting higher with his goal so close. He couldn't have said why he needed so badly, only that he did.

All at once, all the tension left Wade's body and he smiled warmly as he nodded, his fingers stroking across one of Peter's cheekbones and into his hair. "Alright, baby boy, if you want it, you can have it."

There was something so… magnanimous about Wade's tone, like Peter was a child begging for a sweet before dinner and Wade was allowing it, that just made Peter shudder and his cock throb like it was already thinking about getting hard again. Peter ignored it and the way his fingers shook as he whispered his gratitude and undid Wade's jeans. He should have guessed Wade would be going commando because Peter's eyes immediately fell on Wade's dick, for the second time ever because he was still terrible about showing his affection even after a week, and his breath juddered in his chest as he pulled it out.

Now, Peter had sucked a little dick in his life, so it wasn't like he was a complete amateur, but he'd never sucked off someone as big as Wade, or someone who meant what Wade did to him. Just... it wasn't new but it felt momentous. When he wrapped a hand around the base, the tip of his middle finger and thumb didn't touch, and he had to steady his other hand against Wade's hip. But when he took the mushroomed head into his mouth… it was as holy of an experience as taking communion.

Dick tasted like dick. Unclean dicks tasted gross and clean dicks tasted musty and a bit... salty? There wasn't really a good descriptor for the taste of come or pre-come, but it wasn't like it tasted different from person to person. There wasn't some fanfiction-level super-powered tastebuds hyping it up like a street vendor, it was all the same. And yet… There was something about the the act of willingly taking Wade - Deadpool, his iffy sorta-not-boyfriend of three years - into his mouth, something about being the one to ask for it, that somehow elevated the entire act into something of a divine experience for Peter.

It was a monster of a cock, and even though Peter's ass was well adjusted to its size, craved it, even, his mouth had never tried to wrap around anything half its size. Still, he didn't let that deter him, just carefully let as much of Wade as he could take fill his mouth. The heavy, musky weight of it settling on his tongue made him moan with a soul-deep satisfaction, his eyes closing as he let his mouth mold to the shape of Wade's cock. The fingers cupping the side of head clenched in his hair, making the flesh sting and his eyes water, but it happened at the same time Wade let out a moan from above him, one deep enough that Peter felt it reverberate in his chest. It left him with a strange sensation of satisfaction, that he was doing well, though, and the sting was forgotten.

Normally, Peter couldn't deep-throat at all, had never really taken the time to learn how to, never had the inclination, and Wade was not the man to start trying to learn on, but he might be the man Peter might try to learn for. For now though, he carefully took Deadpool in till he hit the back of his throat, and then just paused there and closed his eyes, every part of him just… feeling the thick, heavy, musky weight of Deadpool's cock filling his mouth and pushing at the top of his throat. It gave him a strange sense of floating, like when he let Deadpool take full control of him, direct everything, and it left him feeling content, all the needful hunger that had driven him to his knees slowly fading away as he settled into himself and onto Wade.

Peter probably could have knelt there forever, just holding that cock in his mouth, but the stroke of fingers through his hair across his temple had his eyes fluttering open, blinking rapidly as soft dark turned to harsh fluorescence, but eventually, Wade's gentle smile and gentle eyes came into focus.

"Hey baby boy. How're you doing down there?" His voice was as soft as his expression, and Peter hummed, blinking slowly.

The amount of contact between them was nowhere near enough so Peter shuffled forward, seeking more, as much as he could. As he moved, Wade resettled his weight in order to slide his leg between Peter's, giving him what he needed, but in doing so, ended up pushing his ankle against where Peter was apparently hard again. Which came as enough of a surprise that he bucked at the touch, accidentally grinding his erection against Wade's shin. He whimpered as he settled back on his heels, letting more of himself take his weight than Deadpool and pulling back on the cock in his mouth to suck lightly on the head. The foot between his legs moved forward even further, pushing solid bone up against Peter's erection and it sent tingles through every limb as he inhaled sharply in surprise.

"Do you wanna get off again while you're down there?" Wade asked from above him, and Peter looked up at him as he took the head of his cock all the way back to his throat again. He was barely taking in a third of Wade that way, so he set to work stroking the unattended two-thirds of Wade's dick with his hand. Thank god Deadpool was either uncircumcised or had grown his foreskin back because it would have been hell giving him a handjob without lube, especially when Peter didn't want to let up long enough to lick his own hand to get it wet enough. The skin felt soft in his grip, sliding over hot steel, and Peter fell into a rhythm, stroking up when he pulled back and stroking down when he sucked Wade in.

"Baby boy?"

Peter startled, his rhythm disrupted, and he made a questioning sound in his throat as he tried to find his pace again.

Wade smiled and his fingers tightened a little in Peter's hair. Not in pleasure, Peter didn't think, but to keep him focused on the question. "I asked if you wanted to get off again while you were down there."

Surprisingly: no. Right now, Peter couldn't have cared less if he was completely flaccid. Right now wasn't about him, it was about Wade. True, it was about him wanting to get Wade off with his mouth and down his throat, but it was about Wade's pleasure, not Peter's. He made a noise in the negative and lightly shook his head as he pulled back, pulling off completely only for a moment to brush his lips against the red tip of Wade's dick.

"Alright then," Wade said, voice once again that sweet, magnanimous tone, fingers moving through Peter's hair. "But what if I wanted you to get off?" Something about the way he said it made Peter shudder and moan around the erection he was taking back in. "What if I wanted you to grind against my leg until you came in your jeans. Would you do that for me?" That didn't even take a moment's thought - Peter nodded his head and dug the fingers of the hand against Wade's hip into the front pocket of Wade's jeans. "Alright then. I'm going to fuck your mouth while you fuck yourself against my leg. Go on and wrap your arms around me, it'll help."

Peter hummed his ascent, though it probably wasn't really needed, not when Wade phrased things like that, and put all his focus into getting off. He wrapped his arms tightly around a thick thigh and rose up just a little onto his knees so he could rock forward and grind, the first motion immediately lighting up his nerves. A second hand joined the first against the side of his head, and he let Wade hold his head in place as the cock in his mouth slid out to the head and then pushed back in. It was a slow, careful movement, not pushing in more than he could handle, and Peter moaned at knowing that he was in good hands, that he was doing what Wade wanted him to do.

Every thrust through the 'o' of his lips was gentle, never pushing further than he could handle, but with Wade in control, it meant that Peter couldn't control his saliva. He tried to swallow his spit just once, but he couldn't find the pause in the rhythm of Wade's thrusts to do it, and he eventually gave up. Ultimately, it was taking up too much of his concentration when the only thing he was supposed to be concentrating on right now was getting off. So let he Wade fuck his mouth without worry, let his saliva gather in the corners of his mouth and drip down his chin as he gripped Wade's thigh tight and rode the hard ridge of his shin.

Even when Wade had asked it of him, Peter hadn't really thought that he would even be able to reach his peak again quite so fast, not with just a mere grind and paired with a blow-job. He usually could come multiple times, but that was usually with Wade stretching his ass open wide, practically beating his prostate into submission. But for some reason, that hazy, floating headspace seemed to put him in the perfect mood, and Wade may as well have been fucking him properly because Peter's cock was throbbing in time with each thrust. It was almost as if he was synchronized so perfectly with Wade that the other man's pleasure was his own, and as tight as he was driving the tension in his body, he needed Wade to come before him.

It wasn't until Peter tried to peel his eyes open that he realized they'd been leaking tears, and it was with a start that the wetness in his lashes and on his cheeks clicked. Wade was still watching him silently, hands still cupping the sides and back of Peter's head, hips still rolling off the bathroom's tiled wall in an unbreaking rhythm, filling Peter and pulling away like the tide. Peter looked up the expanse of Wade's body, up from the V of exposed skin from his parted jeans and the wide swath of red hoodie, up to Wade's face, and managed to make eye contact. Wade was still smiling that same soft smile, and he would have looked completely unaffected if Peter's enhanced vision couldn't pierce the vague shadows of Wade's hood to see the black of Wade's arousal in the dilation of his pupils. Peter looked up at that face and didn't think about how he was affecting the infamous mercenary Deadpool, but rather, how much he was pleasing his boyfriend, Wade Wilson. Peter looked up at that expression, and needed.

"Mmm!" he insisted in a wordless hum around the slide of Wade's cock through his lips.

"Would my good boy like to come?" Wade murmured, voice low and dark and husky. As much as Peter did, in fact, need to come, it wasn't what he craved just yet, so he did his best to vocalize a negative.

"Oh? What would you like then?" Wade asked, hands not releasing Peter's head and cock maintaining its steady in-and-out. Peter hummed insistently and tightened his grip around Wade's leg. He would have let go to better demonstrate, but he couldn't figure out how just yet.

"You want me to come?"

Peter sagged at the correct guess and moaned, the next roll of his own hips so aggressive that it almost hurt to grind against Wade's shin.

"Hmmm… I'm not sure you're ready…"

His eyes snapped open, wide and fearful, and Peter clawed at Wade's leg as he begged with his gaze, wanting, needing.

"Sh sh sh," Wade gentled, thumbs stroking over the top of Peter's head even as the tips of his fingers pulled Peter just a little closer, pushing the head of his dick just a little into Peter's loose throat. "How 'bout this: I'll come down your throat if you can fit my whole cock down your throat, 'kay?"

Now, that made Peter still, because hadn't he just been thinking about how he wanted to learn how to deep throat for Wade, but not with him? But he also wanted Wade to come down his throat. So he had to decide: which did he want more? But really the deciding factor of that was: did he think he could do it? Well, Wade wouldn't have suggested it if he didn't think Peter could do it, right?

Wade finally fell still, the head of his cock resting on Peter's tongue as Peter turned his eyes back upward, staring without a word or movement, trying to determine if he could really do it. It was almost too much power, the decision that had been handed down to him, for him to really contemplate in all seriousness in the moment. He was too used to Wade telling him what he could and couldn't do, what he could and couldn't handle, and this… this was a choice and he didn't know if it was one he was capable of making. So he did all he could do. He whined and dug his nails into the denim-covered meat of Wade's thigh, eyes wide and wet with unshed tears.

"Do you want to know what I think, Petey?" Wade asked, voice still low. One of the hands at the back of Peter's head slid down to his cheek, a thumb tracing back and forth over his top lip and then down to brush over his bottom lip and back, back and forth, back and forth, over where his lips were stretched around Wade. "I think you can do it, baby boy." His hand slid down and flipped so he could cup the front of Peter's neck and rest his thumb in the hollow of Peter's throat. "I think it'll take a few tries, but I think I'll be able to get myself all the way into you, and I'll come straight down your throat and as I do, you'll come in your jeans against my leg." Peter had started to shake and tears started to fall from his eyes again, racing down the dried trails on his cheeks. He couldn't help the way he'd started to rock again, humping Wade's leg. "That's what I think," Wade finished, stroking the space between Peter's collarbones. "Now, do you think you can do this for me?"

It came down to the power of decision again, but this time, it had been taken out of his hands. Now that power was firmly in Wade's broad palms again, and the only thing he wanted from Peter right now was, not a decision, but an opinion. And if Wade had voiced his opinion, then so had Peter. If Wade thought he could do it, then Peter could. He'd learned that much from their time together.

Peter met Wade's eyes again as he settled, into himself and into place. He eased the frantic pace of his hips to once more fall in line with the steady rhythm Wade had been using to fuck his face, and he loosened the death grip he'd had on Wade's thigh. He took one deep inhale through his nose, held it, and then let it out just as slowly. Then he hummed his affirmation.

Wade's smile was wolf-like - sharp and victorious, a prey cornered with no escape. The hand at the back of Peter's head shifted to cup the back of his skull completely. The hand at his throat didn't move.

"That's my good boy. Just keep your throat relaxed and breathe through your nose, and you'll be fine," he said soothingly, and pushed back in.

For some reason, Peter half-expected to immediately feel that cock pushing into the passage of his throat, but the head of it just pushed barely past what he could handle before pulling back again. In fact, Wade seemed to fall into the same rhythm Peter was humping his leg with, those same smooth rolls of his hips as he pushed just a little more into Peter's throat each time. All Peter had to do was focus on his breathing and on his gag reflex not triggering, and how much his pliancy must have been pleasing Wade, and just let it happen. The hand at the back of his head was a gentle guide, the hand at his throat a firm hold keeping him from taking more than he could handle, and he was caught between the forces of Wade. The only thing that could have made it all better would have been if his back was pressed against something like the wall or a bed, so that he felt trapped, contained, but in a safe way.

"Fuck, baby boy, I'm so proud of you."

Wade's raspy voice made Peter blink, and he felt like he was surfacing from a trance, his body and mind hazy. It didn't fully clear, but he was still able to recognize that his nose was pressed to bare, scarred skin, that there was a massive protrusion down his throat against which Wade's palm was pressing tight to. It took a moment to realize what that meant: he had deep-throated Wade. Immediately following that realization was a brief moment of panic: that there was something blocking his airway, that he was going to choke, that he was going to die. But again, Wade was right there, thumb stroking over the bulge in his throat, other hand stroking through his hair, leg pushing up against Peter's erection in a pulsing beat.

"Hey, hey, I've got you," Wade whispered, petting Peter's head until Peter fell still again, trying to regulate his own breathing through his nose. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Petey. You got all of me in your throat, your first time too. God, baby boy, you're so good for me."

It was those last words, the praise, that had Peter finally relaxing, that had the tension seep from his muscles until he was collapsed against Wade's leg again, chin probably digging a dent into Wade's pubis but the man didn't seem to care. He just seemed too pleased that Peter had accomplished what Wade had wanted for him.

"You ready for your treat now?" Wade asked, still running a hand through Peter's hair. Peter hummed and renewed the rocking of his hips, grinding against Wade's leg. "Good boy. Just remember to breathe."

Wade began to pull out but he didn't get far before he pushed back in. It took a few thrusts before Peter found his rhythm, humping forward and inhaling when Wade pushed in, and rocking back and exhaling when he pulled partially out. He never pulled all the way out, and Peter thought that that might have been easier, but it was hypnotic, their balance, and he fell into that haze again, that wonderful floating feeling that made him feel so peaceful. Even with his own orgasm brewing in his veins, sparking through his nerves, holding at the brink for the command. He didn't know how long it took before the hand in his hair and the hand at his throat tightened, but not enough to be painful, never enough.

"I'm going to come down your throat now, Petey. You ready to come?" Wade's voice felt disembodied, but with Wade's hand on him, cock in him, Peter felt grounded and safe and so very ready. He moaned around the cock in his throat and then ended up clawing Wade's thigh when Wade moaned back. "That's it, baby boy. Keep moaning and you'll make me come so fast. I want you to come now too, sweetheart."

As always, Wade's command was all it took for Peter's orgasm to break free, and he had no problem moaning his way through his release. Even in the darkness of his closed eyes, everything was light and heat, his cock pulsing as he came, and then Wade was moaning too. Well, more of a low groan, but a moan all the same. The hand at the back of Peter's head pushed him in tight, until his nose was pressed flush to a bit of skin that would have been covered in hair if it were anyone else, and the hand at his throat tightened until he could practically feel the scars on Wade's cock against his skin. Being forced into such stillness and such vulnerability might have triggered a slight panic if Peter hadn't been able to feel the way Wade was pulsing in his throat, and if it had been anyone else but Wade. Wade's cock throbbed with every pump of his release into Peter, and for some reason, something about that, something about Wade holding him in place so that he could fill Peter up, was so arousing that an orgasm-aftershock tingled through Peter's system again.

His entire universe was centered around the thick, hot girth in his throat, the beat of Wade's heart pounding against his own. For a moment, Wade was all that existed, and then reality began to return: his own harsh breathing through his nose, the low hum of a crowd outside the bathroom they were secluded in, the hard tile under his knees… the stickiness in his jeans. Peter frowned and started to pull back, but Wade was keeping him in place, and Peter's initial reaction was a flare of panic. He started to claw at Wade's thigh, pushing back on the hand holding him around Wade's cock, but Wade just hushed him, soft sounds, until Peter fell still again, heart beating wildly in his chest.

"Careful, baby boy. You need to be careful," he murmured, stroking a comforting hand over Peter's head. "Go veeery slowly, 'kay?"

Peter whimpered and would have nodded, but Wade's cock in his throat pulsed again and the hands against his scalp spasmed.

"Still sensitive, sweetie," Wade said with a soft huff of laughter. "Maybe don't make any sounds until I'm out or else I'm liable to start coming again."

Despite his panic, the thought had appeal: just being a- a- a sleeve for Wade's cock, to keep warm and hard and to be filled whenever the want struck Wade. Still, the bathroom at the theater was not the place to explore that. He'd have to wait until he got home.

Careful to remain silent, Peter squeezed Wade's thigh once in understanding and then slowly sat back on his heels, the cock in his throat pulling out so slowly that it seemed like it was emerging a millimeter at a time. When the head of Wade's cock finally pulled from his throat into his mouth, there was an intense feeling of relief, but also of emptiness, like how he felt after they fucked. Only he didn't have a plug to fill this hole. All he could do was blink up at Wade as the man tucked his monster of cock away and wait for Wade to give him the answer he hadn't asked for yet, like he always did. And then something happened that shattered the mood faster than anything else that had ever happened to Peter in the entirety of his life.

"Um, excuse me?" a shy-sounding girl's voice said, making Peter freeze in the process of trying to get off his knees. "This is the ladies' room?" It came out like a question, but Peter knew that it was, in fact, not a question.

Wade snorted so hard that it sounded like a gunshot in the echo of the tiled walls, and Peter slugged him in the thigh. Hard enough that Deadpool actually flinched. Peter would have literally run if his idiot boyfriend hadn't hauled him up with an arm around his waist, and marched him out on shaky legs passed a blushing dark-haired girl staring resolutely at the floor.

"The room's all yours, cutie," Wade said cheerfully and both Peter and the girl blushed ever harder, but Peter stayed silent all the way back to his apartment, too embarrassed to speak.

The burning in his cheeks didn't appease through the streets or the subway tunnels, and his mouth and throat felt overworked, like the time Wade had cornered him in an alley and choked him until he came. Even though he knew no one was actually looking at him, Peter felt the weight of New York's collective eyes on his him, on the way he was sure his mouth was just a little too red, the way his jeans were stiff from come, what he'd just done, in a public bathroom nonetheless, written all over his face.

When they walked into Peter's apartment, he might have crawled into bed and hid under his blankets until his mortification passed, but Wade cornered him on his way to his room. Or rather, intercepted his walk of shame by pushing him down onto his couch and laying on him, forcing a conversation.

"How did you like our first date?" he asked, grinning widely, medical mask discarded by the front door.

Peter glared and looked away.

"Aw, come on, baby boy, don't be like that," Deadpool whined, sliding his gloved hands up under Peter's shirt. "C'mon, tell me the truth and I'll make it up to you."

Peter glared harder at the ceiling. The truth was, he had liked it, even if it had just turned into more of their sexcapades somewhere terrifyingly public. He would… he would do it again. The sexcapades, sure, but preferably the dating part.

"Peeeteeey," Wade drawled, voice low and dark. The 'obey me' voice.

"I liked it," Peter ground out, boring holes into the stained ceiling he'd inherited from the hundreds of occupants before him. Deadpool shifted down his body, settling his weight between Peter's legs, forcing them apart, and Peter took over the freed space of his chest to cross his arms. "I just… kinda wish there was more 'date' in our date and less 'sex'. And I didn't like getting caught in the girl's room."

"Honestly, that part was a total accident," Deadpool said, voice accompanied by the sound of a zipper and a loosening in the front of Peter's jeans. He almost slapped Deadpool's hands away, but he was too busy with his classic pouting pose. "I just knew I needed you immediately and I didn't exactly pay close enough attention to where I was going, only that it was enclosed so we weren't interrupted."

The hot swipe of a soft tongue made Peter gasp and arch a little off the couch, and when he looked down, he found Wade cleaning the dried come from his cock, eyes closed and expression blissful. It was probably one of the worst things about Deadpool: how much joy he took in pleasing Peter. But when Peter thought about how he'd been, kneeling at Deadpool's feet not an hour ago, he realized he might finally understand it.

For a while, Peter lost himself in the wash of Wade's tongue, the softness and heat of it, even knowing that it was going on for too long. He had to have been clean, and he was definitely rock hard, and Wade was still going. Wade kept going until Peter shuddered and came on his waiting tongue with a ragged exhale. It was only afterwards that Wade peeled Peter's soiled jeans and boxers from his legs before laying back down over him, a heaving, pinning force, yet comforting all the same.

"If you want more dating, I can do that," Wade whispered, nuzzling at Peter's cheeks. It took Peter a moment to remember what they'd been talking about, his mind foggy with arousal and contentment.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, tentatively raising his arms to wrap them around Wade's neck. Affection was still new to him but he really was trying, and the pleased smile he got in return only made him feel better about his decision.

"'Course, baby boy," Wade said easily. "I really do love you, Petey. I'd do anything for you - you're so good for me."

Warmth swelled in Peter's chest, something strong enough to eclipse any lingering annoyance, and he opened his mouth to let it out. "I-" But then he stopped, the rest of the words trapped for reasons he couldn't explain.

Wade took that too-long pause and kissed it from him, drawing the warmth into himself through Peter's mouth, and Peter could feel Wade's patience in the gentle kiss. 'When you're ready,' it said, and Peter relaxed at the reaffirmation, relaxing under the firm heat of Wade's comforting weight.

He could do it. He just… he needed a little bit longer.

Peter mostly forgot about being caught by the girl in the theater bathroom until the next week when they went back. The girl behind the concession counter looked up at them for a moment before her eyes went wide and her mouth went slack, and then she turned a brilliant shade of red and stammered her way through the rest of the encounter. Peter would have walked right out and into traffic, his own face just as red, if Wade hadn't been grinning like a hyena, but more importantly, if he hadn't had a death grip on Peter's hand.


Chapter Text

"I liked it. I just… kinda wish there was more 'date' in our date and less 'sex'."

Getting woken up by noises from his living room was not how Peter had expected to wake up on a god-given free Saturday morning, especially not one he was using to catch up on some much needed sleep. And yet here he was, tiptoeing from his bedroom with bleary eyes and a bat he didn't know he owned to find a dark figure closing his window. For a minute, he completely forgot about his superpowers and his web-shooters and he started swinging as wildly as his heart was beating.

There was a surprised squawk from his intruder before his bat was snatched from his hands with a "Fucking hell, baby boy!"

"Jesus- Deadpool?!" Peter gasped out, rubbing at his sleep-fogged eyes until his vision cleared and his enhanced eyesight kicked in to show his idiot boyfriend in civies glaring at him and rubbing his arm with the hand not holding Peter's baseball bat.

"Were you expecting someone else to crawl in your window?" Deadpool asked as if he had the high ground.

"I wasn't expecting anyone to come crawling through my window!" Peter exclaimed back, his heart still a techno-beat in his chest. "Why didn't you just use the door, especially if you were dressed like that?" he asked, gesturing at Wade's hoodie and jeans.

Wade looked down at himself and then looked back up with a shrug that might have been a little sheepish. "I forgot?"

Peter stared at him for a second before his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor. "Fucking- You need… to stop… giving me heart attacks… from my windows," Peter had panted. He still had nightmares of that first time Deadpool had caught him, when arms dragged him into his apartment. Not about the sex, that was all fine and good, just the disembodied arms part. Considering the whacky villains he'd gone toe-to-toe with in the past, and his persistent fear of his identity being discovered, he didn't think anyone should be able to make fun of him for that, despite not having told anyone.

"Sorry, sweetie," Wade said still a bit too cheerfully. "Didn't mean to give you a heart attack," closing the distance between them to crouch next to Peter and wrap him up in a hug.

Peter was sorely tempted to shove him right back out his window... if he had the strength to stand up. Instead, he let Wade pull him into his lap and pet his hair and stroke a hand down his spine, let him calm Peter. He nearly fell asleep again in that comforting embrace as his heartbeat slowly returned to normal, though he was prepared at any time for Wade's hands to stray into his boxers, to get fucked right then and there, and honestly, Peter wouldn't be opposed to a little sleepy morning sex to make up for the heart attack he'd had to suffer.

What actually happened was, as soon as Peter let out a deep sigh and relaxed completely into Wade's hold, Wade stood up with such suddenness that it almost sent Peter into another heart attack. Everything after that was a little bit of a blur, but Peter was fairly certain he was manhandled into outside clothes like he had no more bodily autonomy than a doll and then dragged from his apartment all the way to a restaurant. Actually, maybe he was still sleeping because he could have sworn he was just beating an intruder with a baseball bat not a minute ago, and then it was like he blinked and he was suddenly sitting in a colourfully-decorated restaurant with a hostess leaving menus and cups of water on the table between him and Deadpool.

"What the fuck?" Peter whispered under his breath. His eyes felt wide and his hair felt like an absolute mess and just as wild and crazed as he felt. And fucking Deadpool was just sitting across from him, in that hoodie and medical mask, grinning so wide that Peter could almost see it breaking out the sides of his mask.

"Can't order something if you don't look at your menu, baby boy," Deadpool chided, and suddenly, somehow, Peter was holding a menu and it was open. In his hands.

"What the fuck," he whispered again. None of the words on the laminated page were making any sense and his eyes had that weird feeling like he'd just woken up and was still in the process of waking up. His entire body was still in that mode. "Am I still dreaming?" he finally asked, squinting up at Deadpool.

The manic glee in Deadpool's eyes faded a little, into something just a little calmer, more comforting. "I hope not. I'm hoping you're actually on a date with me right now."

"A date," Peter echoed hollowly.

It had been probably a month since their last date, which had also been their first (and only) date, and Peter really hadn't seen his… boyfriend? since? Like, there had been little moments here and there where Peter had swung by Deadpool in a fight, or Deadpool had showed up while Peter was in a fight. And actually, now that Peter thought about it, they hadn't had actual sex in a little over a month. Not since the Pancake Incident. There had been the handjob/blowjobs on their theater date, but Wade hadn't actually fucked him in a month. How had Peter not realized that before? And what did that mean for them? Peter couldn't actually remember a time where they'd spent time together outside of their costumes and Peter hadn't ended up on Wade's cock, with the exception of that time he'd been injured. So why didn't Wade want him now?

"Are you breaking up with me?" The words had a numbing effect on his mouth, which quickly spread down to his chest, making his heart feel frozen. He'd tried to get rid of Deadpool numerous times in the past, but now that he wanted to keep him? And why did the mere thought of Deadpool breaking up with him make him feel like he was dying?

Instantly, all cheer evaporated from Wade's face and his smile fell. "What?! No!" he exclaimed, leaning across the table and almost knocking their water cups down with his broad chest. A large palm came to rest against the back of his neck, the heat and the weight thawing that sick feeling creeping into Peter's stomach. "Baby boy, why the fuck would you think that?"

Before Peter could speak, Wade was getting up and scooting onto Peter's bench, squeezing into the small space and almost crushing Peter against the wall, but the pressure was comforting. A hand returned to his neck, gripping him tightly, holding him against Wade's chest. "I know talking isn't your favourite but I need you to tell me why you asked that."

Peter swallowed, hard, and took a moment to close his eyes and rest his forehead against Wade's hoodie-cushioned clavicle. "This is only the second time I've really seen you in a month and you haven't fucked me since… since that time I came by your place." Peter almost called it 'the Pancake Incident' but he wasn't sure if Wade would recognize what he meant. "I mean, you've fucked me every time you've seen me since that first time. Until now. And I just…" He trailed off, unsure of exactly what he 'just'.

"Shit baby boy, I'm so sorry," Wade whispered fiercely, pressing a masked kiss to to the top of Peter's head. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I've been a little busy with missions, yeah, but I also wanted to try to date you right and shit. Court you all proper and whatnot. More 'date' and less 'sex'."

"I just… kinda wish there was more 'date' in our date and less 'sex'."

"If you want more dating, I can do that."

And just like that, the sudden onset of cold in Peter evaporated and his face went up in flames at the echo of the request he'd made after their theater date. "Y-you don't need to do that," he stuttered, embarrassed at his momentary panic and staring intently at his fingers. "Just- You can be like you were before, I just meant that I- that I wanted to do other stuff too. You don't have to stop f-fucking me."

Wade was quiet for a moment and then he laughed, a little too clearly and a little too loudly, which only made Peter startle and jerk back. Only to find that they were being stared at by several other patrons nearby and he ducked his head again, wishing he was wearing a hoodie so he could hide his flaming face. The hand at the back of his neck slid into his hair, gripping tight and pulling his head back and then Wade was kissing him, Peter's eyes wide in his face and Wade's crinkled in mirth. It took a moment for the kiss to register, and another moment for it to register that they were kissing, in public, and Peter's gut reaction was to jerk backwards. Wade let him with an unexpectant smile and Peter stared back, flustered and out of sorts and even more embarrassed.

True, they'd been properly together for a month, and it was also true that they'd technically already engaged in public sex, but Peter had only accepted them a month ago and the theater had had an illusion of privacy, with no threat of wandering gazes. Right now right here though, there was no such illusion and Peter knew that people could see them because he could see them seeing them. Going on dates were fine, he wanted them, but PDA was still a little too public, especially when he still hadn't even been able to muster up the courage to say the three magic words that Wade managed to say every time they were together now. Hell, he hadn't even been able to get past the "I" in any of his attempts. So he stared at Wade with wide eyes, unsure what to do with his hands, or really, any of his limbs. But Wade, who was freakishly aware and understanding of all of Peter's flaws, just pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

"Sorry again, baby boy," Deadpool said, the hand in Peter's hair travelling to the top of his head where it ruffled the already-chaotic strands. "You feelin' better now? Or you need some more lovin'? Which I am more than happy to give, by the way. All the reassurance you need, right here, hard and waiting."

Peter scowled and knocked Deadpool's hand off his head. "Get back on your side of the table," he said with a hard enough push to send Wade tipping off the end of the bench seat. Wade just laughed as he got back up and sat down on his side of the table. It left Peter's side cold, but at least the cold was gone from his chest, and Wade making creepy innuendos was a regular enough thing that it felt like they were back to their normal dynamic.

"Anything you want, Petey," Wade said, eyes too warm and voice too kind, even through his laughter. It only made the heat on Peter's face worse and he had to look away.

He was saved from a further response by their waitress finally showing up, pen and pad at the ready, and then Peter almost had an anxiety attack when he realized he didn't know what he wanted until two booted feet came to rest on either side of his knees, trapping him in place but also reminding him that Wade was there to handle whatever he couldn't. As for the waitress, it turned out they were in a Mexican restaurant, which honestly hadn't registered to Peter until he was listening to Wade rattle off what sounded like everything on the menu, and all Peter had to do was tell the waitress to double Wade's order. She gave him a raised eyebrow at that, skeptical eyes scanning Peter's skinny frame and undoubtedly disbelieving of the possibility that Peter could eat even a fraction of what he ordered. Little did she know but would soon discover: Peter could put away more than Wade could when the resources were available.

When she finally walked off, Peter returned his stare to the table. Until he realized Wade was being way too quiet. For way too long. It only took a quick glance to recognize the leer on Wade's face, even through the medical mask. "What?" he snapped, starting to shift in place before the cage of Wade's feet tightened, keeping him still.

"Just like seeing you eat, Petey," Wade said.

Peter frowned at him before remembering how invested Wade had been about feeding him when he'd been injured two years ago. Since that time, Peter had constantly found his fridge and cupboards fully stocked on multiple occasions, sometimes even without seeing Wade himself, which had always made him feel weird; not that Wade had been in his apartment without him knowing, but that Wade had dropped by without so much as a "Hey, baby boy". And despite his odd desire to feed Peter up, this was somehow only the fourth time that they'd eaten together, post-fight snacks quickly gobbled down notwithstanding.

A small breeze ruffled the hairs on his arm as the waitress woosh-ed by, chips and salsa appearing on the table like magic in the way only a long-term server could seem to be capable of. Without a word, Wade pushed them closer to Peter. Peter glared as he took one and dipped it in the salsa. "Still weird," he muttered before cramming it in his mouth. Wade just grinned.

An awkward silence descended between them, at least for Peter, as for the first time, he found that he didn't know what to say to Wade. He knew how to interact with Deadpool as Spider-Man, and he knew how to respond when Wade dropped in for a booty call, but when it came to Peter Parker dating Wade Wilson? Peter had no idea what to do. Also possibly because he'd only been on a handful of dates with other people and, with the exception of of Mark, only first dates at that. Mark had been easy to date, possibly because Peter had still felt a little dead inside from Wade's unexplained disappearance, and Mark had done all the pursuing, but Peter had known Wade for a lot longer, and they'd been a… 'thing' for so long that it felt like he should know the man better and now that they were here, he didn't know how to get to where they should be. Dating Wade should have been the easiest thing in the world, but Peter's throat was so dry and every time he opened his mouth, instead of words coming out, his hand just shoved a chip in like some strange… singular-limb, possession-based compulsion. When Wade laughed out of the blue, Peter could only stare at him with wide eyes, arm arrested with a salsa-laden chip halfway to his mouth.

"Alright, alright, I'll take pity on you," Wade said, still laughing and confusing the hell out of Peter.

"What?" he asked intelligently.

"I was being a little mean," Wade didn't-explain, pinching his thumb and forefinger close together in the air. When he sat forward, Peter realized the man had just been slouching and staring at him the entire time he'd been eating. "I was gonna wait to see how long it would take you to start talking, but you're cramming chips in your mouth like you're the most adorable nervous wreck of a chipmunk and I know you and there's no way you're going to start." Peter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to remember why he didn't kill people, especially immortal ones who could revive themselves. "Tell me what you're going to school for."

That caught Peter by surprise, and he ended up choking on the chip he'd just remembered he was holding and had just stuck in his mouth. "How do you know I'm in school?"

Wade levelled a flat look at him. One of those 'no shit' looks. Which Peter was often on the receiving end of, just not from Wade. "I'll let that fly since I know how out of your zone you are right now, baby boy, but I'd like to remind you that I have eyes and am also a trained mercenary. Noticing things is just kinda one of those things I do."

"Sorry," Peter muttered, ducking his head. It wasn't that he thought Wade was unobservant, or even stupid. In fact, even when he'd still 'hated' Deadpool, and the other Avengers would rag on him, Peter had never thought Deadpool was stupid. Act stupid, sure, but every time an Avengers would complain about it, Peter would wonder how they hadn't seen how intelligent Deadpool could be. "I didn't mean to- You're one of the smartest people I know."

Wade's eyes narrowed further, and Peter had never gotten that look from him either. It didn't activate his Spidey Sense, nothing Wade ever said or did had ever activated it and probably never would. Still, that dangerous look made him shiver, and for reasons Peter didn't understand, it made him a little hard. "I don't like being mocked, Petey."

"I'm not mocking you," Peter said, confused and surprised. "Sometimes I think you like playing the idiot but I know you're really not. I think…" He paused, feeling like he was about to reveal a secret. And maybe it was, in a way. It would mean admitting that he thought about Deadpool even when they weren't together, both in the sense of before they were dating and also now that they were dating but when they weren't physically together. But he'd resolved to be more honest with the man he'd agreed to date, and so he was going to push through his nervousness and anxiety and actually speak. "I think sometimes the others forget that your only-" he glanced around quickly for potential eavesdroppers before continuing, if only at a slightly lower volume "-power is regeneration. I think they forget you weren't, like, supernaturally gifted with superior aim and strength and tactical prowess. That's… that's all you, Wade. The others might forget, but I don't. I haven't."

It wasn't the three-word confession that Peter had been trying to work up the courage for for the last month, but he knew the equivalent sentiment behind his words would be recognized. Now, if only he had the courage to lift his eyes from the tabletop to Wade's face, but his own face was burning something fierce and that would have been too much right now. He only barely kept his fingers from ripping holes in his jacket by gripping the cheap laminate cushion of the bench seat on either side of Wade's feet. He may have also been gripping the seat to keep from reaching out to touch Wade's legs. He kinda wanted to set his hands on Wade's ankles, but not in a binding way like Wade had done to him on occasion in the past.

"As much as I appreciate your honesty, baby boy..." Wade said, and Peter couldn't help but get instantly hard in response to the familiar low, dark tone. He'd never heard it outside of sex before, and his body had a trained reaction to it. Just like he couldn't seem to come without being called a 'good boy' while saying Wade's name. "As much as I really appreciate it, if you say any more, I'll bend you over this fucking table and fuck you right here in front of everyone. Got it?"

It was a threat, but not one meant to cause pain or humiliation - Peter could hear the hunger in Wade's voice and he had to shove the joint of his thumb in his mouth to keep from moaning. Wade hadn't fucked him in so long in them-years that he couldn't help but want to provoke Wade into following through his threat. But also, he suspected he would still want that, even if Wade had actually fucked him on his living floor before dragging out to the restaurant he still didn't know the name of. The boot from the side he'd pulled his hand away from pulled back and then unexpectedly shoved between his knees until the sole of it was pressing against his hard cock through his jeans, and Peter almost bit through his own hand.

"I asked you a question, baby boy," Wade said, still in that dark voice that never failed to make Peter want to obey. But he still didn't trust his ability not to let out a porno-worthy noise if he removed his hand so he nodded frantically and moved his other hand to Wade's ankle, tightly gripping fabric of his jeans. God, he hoped that not every date they went on ended in him clinging to Wade's leg for one reason or another. The boot pressed to his dick increased pressure and Peter bucked against it, almost knocking their table over.

"Everything alright over here?" the waitress asked, appearing for the World's Worst Timing award show. Fuck, now Peter was going to have to speak, and Wade's foot was slowly releasing and increasing pressure like a metronome against his erection.

"Yeah, just- had a coughing fit," Peter choked out, trying to reign in his arousal. Which he'd never had to do before, not really, and he had no idea how. "Can I get some more water?" She gave his still-full glass an unimpressed look. Peter picked it up and drained it in two seconds. "Please?"

The waitress "humph"-ed and walked away, and Peter stayed frozen in place, as if he was within range of a T-rex and any motion would attract its attention and invite attack. The hand he'd been using to muffle himself was pressed to the table, fingertips white from the pressure he was exerting to keep it against to the tabletop and the mark from the press of his teeth was a bright red crescent around the joint of his thumb. The fingers gripping the denim over Wade's ankle were still there, white-knuckling it without even attempting to put a stop to the steady rocking of the boot pressing into him. His eyes darted frantically around, paranoid to the extreme that what Wade was doing could be seen by anyone and everyone, that anyone and everyone was watching the flex of Wade's calf pushing his foot between Peter's legs below the table. Judging by the way the way the waitress glared at him when she returned and all through pouring a new glass of water, he suspected that she suspected something, even if she wasn't sure of anything.

"No fucking in my restaurant," she said as she turned away, and all the colour drained from Peter's face.

"Yes, ma'am," he tried to say, but either it never left his mouth or she was too far to hear because she gave no acknowledgement.

When he turned back to face Wade, the movement so slow and creaky that he felt like a broken toy, he found Wade with his head propped on his hand and face split with a wide grin. His foot was still rocking back and forth, against and away from Peter's dick.

"I won't fuck you, not here, but if you're a good boy for me, I'll give you a treat when we get home," Wade said before taking a nonchalant sip of his water. "You think you're up to the challenge?"

The boot pressed hard against him for a moment and Peter curled inward just a little, the muscles in his stomach clenching as he fought to keep his head upright. The fingers twisted in the hem of Wade's jeans probably would have spasmed if they hadn't been curled as they were, and there was a conscious effort not to break the table with the hand laid carefully flat on its surface. "It's- it's never a challenge," he managed to choke out, throat dry and mouth somehow too wet. "To be good for you," he elaborated after a moment. It had been difficult as hell to get out, but the pleased gleam to Wade's expression made it worth it.

"That's because you're my good boy, aren't you, Petey?" Wade asked in a low rumble, voice that perfect kind of dark that made Peter wish he could wrap a hand around himself to further eliminate any possibility of coming just because he was hearing Wade talk that way.

"Yes, Wade," Peter said, and Wade's grin widened. Peter almost imagined that, if the man hadn't been wearing a medical mask, he would have been bearing fangs like a wolf.

"Now!" Wade exclaimed with all the finality of someone who had decided to change the topic. Still, it wasn't until his boot lifted the pressure from Peter's erection, but still resting against it, that Peter was able to relax a little. "Tell me about your schooling."

The question took him by surprise the second time too, but this time, when Peter's mouth opened, he actually managed to start talking about his schooling, per request. It was slow going, at first, awkward and stilted, mostly facts about the high school he went to and how he was good at sciences like chemistry with an interest in biology, and how he was good at engineering with an interest in robotics, which is why he was going to college for them, trying to get several simultaneous degrees because he knew he could handle the load and he wanted to get done with college so he could quit the Daily Bugle and get a job that actually interested and challenged him. But in talking about all that, he began to pick up steam, especially when Wade showed a minor understanding and an attentive interest in what Peter was saying, even asking questions, and by the time the food came to the table (brought on three big trays by their waitress and another waiter), Peter was in full-on, nerdy, kid-at-Christmas rant mode.

It wasn't every day that he had someone that he could share his interests with that he actually liked, after all. Yeah, he technically had his classmates, but even if they did share his enthusiasm for experimentations and discoveries, Peter was no more popular in college than he was in high school. He didn't really know how to talk to people and his attempts beyond "Hey, what page?" or "What did you get for three?" always failed spectacularly. To the point that he sometimes felt like he was that one sitcom character that always had a laugh track after everything they said just because they were that pathetic. But Wade didn't laugh at his excitement when he got pulled into an explanation on how he created his webs and his web shooters. He didn't look confused or annoyed when Peter ended up on a thread about aerodynamics of his suit versus the problem of storage. In fact, the more excited Peter got, the happier Wade seemed about it, and in turn, the happier Peter got. It felt like a balloon was expanding in his chest, filling him up until he floated away.

Peter barely tasted his food as he ate, and he barely even noticed that he was eating at all. Bites were taken automatically in the middle of rants, and sometimes he forgot to eat for so long that Wade ended up holding something up to his mouth and Peter just ate it as soon as it was presented. He didn't stop until he went to take a bite of something, eyes glued to Wade's face, and he encountered an empty plate. Peter stuttered to a stop mid-rant and looked down to find the table full of nothing but empty plates, every one cleaned of food. He'd been talking so long, and so distractedly, that apparently, they'd cleared the table between the two of them. And then that's when Peter realized how long he had to have been talking.

"Oh my god," he groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "I can't believe you let me ramble the entire date." His cheeks felt hot against his palms and he pushed his fingers into his closed eyes.

"'Course I did, Petey," Wade said cheerfully and apparently not at all annoyed. "One, I never get to hear you talk this much and two, you are the cutest thing when you get worked up about something. I'm talking I-want-to-hug-you-to-death adorable."

Peter's cheeks only got warmer but he spread his fingers over his face, peeking through them to glance at Wade, who was staring at him with an earnest joy. "Really?" he asked tentatively.

"'Course," Wade said with a shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. And maybe it was to him. He'd been after first Spider-Man and then Peter Parker for years, and Peter supposed that level of dedication (obsession?) made his view on things a little different than anyone else's. Also, his mental instability might have had something to do with it. Whatever the cause, Wade had a way of looking at the world in a way that no one else did, and it could be annoying at times, off-putting too, but Peter… kinda liked it. "Petey, I don't think there's anything about you I don't love. I like… love-love you, how could I not love you in your adorable little rant mode?"

Peter snorted. "Yeah, well, Mar-ay- May" he started and then stopped and then coughed his way through almost saying 'Mark' and then quickly changed it to 'May' when he remembered how long it had taken him to talk Deadpool down from hunting Mark down and ending him. Still, Wade's eyes narrowed suspiciously at him as Peter hacked his way gracelessly into a continuation. "May, Aunt May, you know, my aunt-" subtle, Peter "-loves me too and she can only keep up with my biology rants because she's a nurse. Uncle Ben could only keep up with half my engineering rants because he grew up and made a living off basic engineering things. They both love me but even they zone out now and then."

Mark had been an attentive listener, but he had been absolutely clueless about almost everything Peter had ever talked about. Even his prompting questions had showed a clear lack of understanding of even the basics of what Peter had been talking about. Wade, though… Wade's questions showed that not only had he been listening, but that he'd actually been paying attention, and that he understood the framework of almost every topic Peter had landed on. Like Peter had said earlier, he knew Wade was smart, but even he hadn't guessed how wide that range of intelligence actually was.

"Eh, you can't blame old folks who didn't grow up with tech for not understanding it," Wade said with another shrug as he started stacking plates and pushing them to the edge of the table. "I, on the other hand, learned many a grand things during my time travelling to exotic places and killing exotic people."

Peter wrinkled his nose at the reminder of what Deadpool did for work as he started to help clear a space in the middle of the table. And then he remembered that year Wade had gone missing, the year Peter had found Mark. The loneliest year of Peter's life. "That year you were away," started slowly, hands stilling with a plate in the air as he frowned at the table. "When you came back, you said you were off-world?"

"Yep!" Wade said with a pop to the 'p' and a firm nod.

"Could you… could you tell me about it?" Peter asked, raising his eyes to meet Wade's.

"You really wanna hear me talk?" Wade asked, brow furrowing.

The question gave Peter pause. Did he want to hear Wade talk or was he asking because of his own curiosity? ...Both, he decided after a moment. He wanted to know about these other worlds, but he also wanted to know more about Wade, and he wanted to hear more of Wade's deep voice. Wade talked a lot, sure, but he didn't actually say a lot. Also, there was a marked difference between how he spoke when he was excited, like when they were both in a fight and trading quips, and when he was calm, like when he was doting on Peter. And because of Peter's own decisions, because he'd done everything he could to minimize their out-of-suit interactions, he hadn't really heard as much of Wade's calm voice as current-him would have liked. Right now though, he wanted to try to mend that mistake, and he wanted to let Wade's voice wash over him.

"Yes," he finally said slowly. "Please."

Wade stared at him for a long moment, and then smiled. "Good boy," he praised. And then the boot resting against Peter's half hard cock, the boot that Peter had honest-to-God forgotten about in his enthusiasm to share his interests with Wade, pushed down slowly and gently against him, renewing the rocking motion from before their food arrived and making Peter gasp and twitch in his seat. He almost shattered a plate and he definitely twisted a fork beyond recognition, and when he shot a glance at Wade to make sure he wouldn't get in trouble for destroying restaurant property, he only found a wolfish smile waiting for him.

When the waitress came by to take away their plates, Peter shivered silently through Wade ordering dessert for both of them. It was only after she left that Wade began to talk, and from the moment he opened his mouth, Peter was spellbound by the pictures he painted, boot-to-cock completely forgotten (again). Fantastic worlds of volcanoes and diamonds and rock spires taller than the Empire State Building. Worlds covered in scrap metal and mish-mashed pods for living compared to others of gleaming glass and metal and holograms. Inhabitants like cavemen on some planets and others so foreign that their design was almost incomprehensible. Societies that believed in a faith so strongly that they were like movie-level cults, and others that believed you were only allowed to wear what you hunted and cured and so there were a great many inhabitants running around unclothed.

Peter barely noticed their dessert arriving, couldn't have said what it even was, because when the plates were put on the table, Wade segued into alternate realities, and Peter's mouth fell wide open in awe. He was just barely cognizant of Wade feeding things to him, and his jaw closing and opening in automatic repeat to clear his mouth of the food, but he didn't taste any of it. He was too involved in hearing about the differences in the people they knew in these different timelines. Like how Peter and Wade were girls in different timelines, and in others Wade was a floating zombie head, or Peter was an actual spider-monster, how sometimes Aunt May died instead of Uncle Ben, and sometimes they both died, and sometimes his parents lived.

As they were leaving the restaurant, which Peter only kind-of noticed because of the temperature differences between inside and out, Wade moved back to their world but into future alternative timelines. Apparently there were timelines with zombies and vampires and all the creatures children dread to see in their nightmares. There were timelines with second genders and robots and actual soulmates. There were alterations and abominations and aberrations that Peter had never even considered or thought possible or dreamed up. By the time they were enclosed in his apartment again, Peter was stuck on one thing and one thing only:

"Can you get me another one of your teleporter belts?"

Right now, Peter wanted nothing more than to experience those worlds himself, but he also needed to understand the technology required to travel like that, which meant that he'd need to backwards-engineer an existing belt since it wasn't technology from the earth he knew. Peter was good at what he did, but he didn't want to risk finding something outside his scope of understanding and accidentally break what was ultimately a handy tool in Wade's arsenal. He was already composing experiments in his mind when Wade shocked him into the present.

"Sit on my face and I'll tell you," Wade said cheerfully.

"What?" Peter blurted out, surprised and confused. And then he realized Wade was naked, clothes on a pile on the floor. Then he realized that he was naked. "Why am I naked? When did I get naked?" he asked, patting his chest and belly with his fingers, testing to see if he was just hallucinating, but there really was only bare skin against his palms. He looked back up to see a dark, hungry smile on Wade's face, and then the man reached forward and wrapped a hand around Peter's half-hard cock, making him groan and curl over Wade's arm.

"Fuck," Peter groaned out, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping Wade's forearm tightly as the fingers wrapped around him squeezed rhythmically, like a heartbeat.

"C'mon, baby boy," Wade murmured, walking away from Peter without letting go of his dick, forcing Peter to follow Wade through Peter's own apartment into his bedroom. Not that it was much of a hardship, but the pulsating grip did make it hard. "You sang me a pretty song at dinner and I promised you a treat if you could keep being a good boy for me. Well, you were such a good boy for me, my good, smart boy, and you get a treat. And after your treat, I'll give you your answer."

Wade flopped backwards onto the bed and Peter was forced to clamber up after him when the grip around his most sensitive organ refused to ease. There was a moment of confusion though when, instead of pushing Peter onto his back, Wade fell onto his own, propping his head on Peter's pillow and shoving his free hand under his head. It was so out of the norm that all Peter could do was stare down at his boyfriend in complete, frown-y confusion.

"I thought…." he started and then trailed off when he realized Wade hadn't said what his treat was going to be. After their discussion at dinner, when he'd laid himself bare to Wade, he'd just assumed that the treat was going to be Wade finally fucking him again, but when had Wade ever done what he'd expected?

"You were all caught up in that pretty head of yours, but I know you heard me," Wade said, voice expecting, secure in the belief that Peter would remember and comply.

"I don't-" was Peter's immediate reaction, until the last few minutes caught up to him.

"Sit on my face and I'll tell you."

"Oh," Peter said faintly, feeling his face get hot. Wade grinned and gave the fully erect cock in his hand a tug, making Peter waver.

Normally, it wasn't that difficult to let himself fall in to the rushing waters of Wade's will, to drown in the deep rivers of Wade's intent, but normally, Peter was just a puppet, a doll for Wade to shift and maneuver to his delight. What Wade wanted of him now required that Peter not react, but act, that Peter be complicit in this thing between them, that he take part. It was a fair thing to ask of him, he just… It almost felt like Peter didn't have the right to have any form of control like this, even though he wasn't going to be doing anything other than sitting.

"I don't-" he started and then stopped. Then, a little helplessly: "Wade?" He hated feeling out of sorts, and for some strange reason that he couldn't begin to work out, he never felt more out of his depth than when Wade left a decision in Peter's hands that Peter was expecting Wade to make for him.

"Don't I always take care of you, baby boy?" Wade asked lowly, scanning Peter's bared skin from his suddenly sinful recline.

"Yes, Wade," Peter whispered.

"Then c'mere and let me take care of you," Wade said, tugging gently on Peter's cock.

Peter licked his lips and nodded, and then got to oddly shaky feet and knelt gingerly over Wade's face. Wade let go off his cock as he hovered over Wade's face and shuffled his feet under Wade's broad shoulders. There was a scrape of teeth between his cheeks, above the edge of the base of his plug, and he jumped, but then they moved and his plug was being pulled from him, tugged a little free at a time, making him shake and startle with each pull. When it finally came free, it left him empty and needy. Before he could beg for something, anything, two large hands palmed his ass, pulling him down until a tongue poked against his asshole, making him jump.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, surprised by the touch. He knew it was coming, and yet, it was a newish sensation that he was not really accustomed to. He definitely hadn't let Mark do it, or anyone else. It was too vulnerable of a position for him to allow to just anyone. But Deadpool wasn't just anyone. He never had been.

Wade was just… licking him, small little kitten licks against his hole, but Peter was already trembling from it, his cock already hard and flushed against his belly. Fingers crept inward squeezing and pulling his asscheeks aparts and he groaned, falling forward to fold his arms against the wall so he could rest his forehead against them.

"Fuck, Wade," he groaned, and then pulled an arm free to drop a palm against Wade's bald head. Wade hummed against him and Peter shuddered, somehow buckling on his spine. Wade hummed again and pushed his tongue into Peter. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice reverberating against the wall.

"Yeah, baby boy, that's it," Wade murmured.

"Please don't stop!" Peter begged, fingers tightening on Wade's head, sweaty fingers slipping on Wade's bare skin.

"One sec, sweetheart."


"Yes," Wade growled, squeezing Peter's ass hard enough that it gave him pause. He shook against the wall, trembling and trying to get himself back under control for Wade. "Turn around, baby. C'mon."

It took longer than it should have for someone of Peter's skill set and powers to do as he was instructed, but finally his 180 was successful and he found himself on Wade's chest. Far from Wade's mouth. He whimpered and got hushed in response, a palm sliding up his spin and pushing down.

"Bend over, Petey, that's it."

Wade was hard too and Peter didn't give it a second thought before he sucked the tip of Wade's erection into his mouth. The body under him shifted, raising him higher until Peter was almost sliding down, but two strong hands on his hips kept him in place, trapping his cock between his belly and the bone of Wade's sternum.

"That's my good boy," Wade said right against his hole before diving right back in.

Peter tried to give as good as he was getting, tried to suck Wade as enthusiastically as Wade was tongue-fucking him. But Wade was too enthusiastic, and soon, all Peter could do was moan sloppily around Wade's dick. He didn't even try to deepthroat him like their theater date, he wouldn't be able to concentrate like he had to then. He couldn't concentrate, not on anything that wasn't the way Wade's tongue was pushing into him, interspersed only with small nips to his sensitive rim that never failed to make him shake.

His arousal was a low simmering thing in his belly, his orgasm a low throb in his cock, but it wasn't enough. "Wade. Wade," he groaned. "It's not enough. Please, I need- I need-" He didn't know what he needed, he just needed.

"I know, baby boy, I got what you need," Wade said, and then something small and cold was being pushed into him, making him gasp and jerk and arch into Wade's unyielding body. Then it began vibrating against his prostate and he went rigid as his orgasm rushed to the surface, suddenly there at the edge and needing to be released. He clawed ate Wade's legs, Wade's cock forgotten against his belly as Peter was ambushed with the sensations of the vibrator and Wade's tongue in him and Wade's teeth against him.

"Please please please please please," he begged, rocking back into Wade's mouth and forward to grind his cock into Wade's chest, rolling his forehead against the muscles of Wade's stomach.

"Are you my good boy?" Wade asked softly, fingers curling rhythmically against Peter's sides.

"Yes. Yes," Peter hissed, pressing kisses to the skin in reach, biting each time he felt teeth against his rim.

"Do you wanna come then, my good boy?" Wade chuckled, surprising him with a suck against his hole that made Peter's stomach muscles clench.


Wade laughed right against him, making him vibrate from the outside of where he was most sensitive. "Alright, then, go ahead, sweetheart. Come on my tongue."

The vibrator in him shot up in intensity, turning Peter's vision white as Wade licked into him, tongue long and instistant and wet and all Peter needed. He wanted to try to get Wade off too, but then the hands at his hips tightened, pulling him closer to that tongue. Then Wade started eating him out so messily, so sloppily, that the sounds of it sent Peter over the edge, forcing a high-pitched noise from his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut and came, heart and cock pulsing in time with the vibrator that was slowly easing in its intensity until it turned off entirely. The tongue though, the tongue didn't stop, just kept licking at him like he was the world's best lollipop, and he was so sensitive that each lick made him shake.

"Wa-A-ade!" he whined, voice wobbling as he tried to shift away, tried to get away from the forced over-sensitization.

He only got as far as resting his temple in the crease between a thick leg and a hairless pubis before Wade slid one of the hands at Peter's hips around his waist. It pulled him in nice and tight, immobilizing him and forcing his spine in and his ass out, right into the path of Wade's hungry tongue. The other hand at his hip let go and then reappeared in front of Peter's face a moment, wrapping around Wade's cock. Even with the way his mind had gone fuzzy from the prolonged pleasure, he realized he'd never seen Wade get himself off before, not like this. He'd only ever used Peter's body, never his own. It was… It was hot. It got hotter a second later when Wade started to moan into Peter's ass as he stroked himself.

Peter's breath caught in his chest as the fist around Wade's cock began to stroke it so quickly that it almost blurred. Peter was hard pressed to say whether the sloppy sounds of getting eaten out were more arousing than the slick sound of Wade fucking his fist, but either way, he was already hard again and dizzy from it. How could he not be, when Wade was moaning like that, like he was treating himself to the most decadent dessert on the planet. Only, that dessert was Peter's ass. And the faster he ate it, the faster he stroked himself; or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, he was diving in, licking and sucking and biting like he couldn't get enough, and the muscles in his stomach, the ones right next to Peter's face, were beginning to clench rhythmically, and suddenly all Peter needed right now as to see Wade come. He was still hard himself, or rather, hard again, but he was focusing so strongly on Wade's erection that he barely remembered his own.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, come."

"You wanna come again?" Wade asked right back, offsetting the disappearance of his tongue by turning the vibrator back on.

Peter was still too sensitive, and he froze again, the buzzing too much, but he still couldn't come yet. Wade hadn't said he could, but more than that, he needed Wade to come first.

"M-m," Peter barely managed to grunt. "You. First."

"You wanna see me come, baby boy?" Wade sounded pleased and it made Peter's chest warm, made him warm in a way that had nothing to do with the burning heat of arousal in his veins. A pleased Wade meant that Peter had done good, that he'd done what Wade wanted.

"Please," Peter whispered again, grinding his forehead into Wade's hip bone, trying to regain some functionality of his mind back from the haze of pleasure like tv-snow blanketing his senses.

"I'll come if you promise to come again right after. How's that? You think you can come again for me, sweetie?" Wade's question was interspersed with kisses against his hole, nips at his perineum, fingernails digging into his asscheeks to leave the imprint of little crescent moons. Wade's question also didn't provoke any of the normal indecision in Peter, because he could have come the second Wade turned the vibrator back on. He'd only held back so that he could see.

"I promise, Wade," Peter murmured, eyes fixed on Wade's cock even as he started rocking again, back into Wade's mouth and forward into his chest. "Please…"

"Alright, alright, baby boy," Wade agreed with a breathy laugh against Peter's hole that made him shudder. "Since you've been so good for me, I'll let you have it."

Peter opened his mouth to reply, to say 'thank you', or something, but the moment he did was the moment Wade fixed his mouth back to Peter's hole and kissed it like his life depended on it. But the fist around his cock sped up up and he started to moan directly into Peter's ass at the same time, and Peter barely managed to hold it together. The only way he was able to was because he was breathless, from both arousal and anticipation.

"Wade, Wade, Wade, Wade, Wade," he chanted near silently from his lack of oxygen, curling his fingers into Wade's leg and ribs, to keep himself from trying to help.

"'Bout to come for you, Petey," Wade murmured between Peter's cheeks. "Gonna come so hard, baby boy."

Peter tried to reply, tried to encourage Wade on, but in the next moment, Wade was moaning long and low and deep into Peter and white was flying from the tip of his cock, flung high onto his chest and onto Peter from the force that he was stroking himself. When the first drop of come hit Peter's cheek, he couldn't hold himself back any longer, not with the vibrator and the moan and the tongue and seeing Wade just because Peter had asked to see it. He pressed his open mouth to Wade's hipbone, eyes squeezed tight shut as a second orgasm forced its way out of his cock.

He was still so sensitive from the first one happening such a short time ago that this one almost hurt, or it was too good, he wasn't quite sure. He was just hot and warm everywhere, the familiar sensation of an orgasm spread to the tip of every limb, as spots of wet dotted along the curve of his waist and ribs from being curved down Wade's front like an 'S'. He could barely hear the continued sounds of Wade stroking himself over the buzz of the vibrator and moan pressed against him, dragging his orgasm on until it was too much, making the pressure of his belly and Wade's sternum too much.

Peter convulsed reflexively as a sob shook him from the overstimulation, and outside the hum over his hearing, he could make out the sound of Wade's hand slowing before it stopped entirely. A moment later, the buzzing in him did the same thing, incrementally decreasing in speed until it too stopped, and then was pulled out. When the arm around his waist, the one thing keeping his hips pinned to Wade's chest and the one thing keeping him from sliding sideways off Wade's body, loosened, Peter, predictably, slid. He didn't have far to go, though, and he stopped after only a few inches with his shoulder pressed to the bed, arms wrapped around the thigh his nose was mashed against, one knee jammed into the back of Wade's shoulder joint, and the other one still flung across the front of Wade's shoulders, his heel caught on Wade's neck. He felt like a weird sloth, clinging to his favourite tree, feeling fucked out and eerily exposed, his asshole feeling open and leaving him with an unshakeable feeling of vulnerability. A feeling that only increased when Wade's arm, loose around his waist, curled around an ass cheek and a calloused thumb began to play with his sensitive rim, making him shiver. All he could do as the massage continued was to close his eyes, press his forehead to Wade's thick thigh, and try to calm his body down.

"Wade?" he mumbled, hoping his voice was audible when his mouth was almost set to Wade's leg.

"Yeah, Petey?" Wade whispered right back, pressing a kiss to the back of Peter's thigh.

The words were in the back of Peter's throat, but he was having trouble figuring out how to get them out. He'd never said them before and it was harder than it should have been. He was distracted by the shift of Wade's shoulder under his outstretched foot, and then the tips of two fingers barely pushed into him before pulling away, making him grunt. 'What-?" he managed to ask, too confused and dazed to string a proper sentence together.

"Ignore me, baby boy," Wade said absently. "I'm just getting some of my come back into you; it's been too long."

"You're-" Peter started and then those two wet fingertips pushed into him again. He managed to open an eye and lift his head just enough to see Wade swipe the tips of his pointer and middle finger through the puddle of come on his stomach. A moment later, those fingers were pushing just a little into him, and what Wade said clicked. "Oh my god," Peter moaned, closing his eye again and letting his head rest against the mattress.

Wade wasn't wrong - it had been too long since Peter had had Wade's come in him, and that blowjob in the theater barely counted. Even though it made him feel open and exposed and all-too-vulnerable, Peter tried to shift his bottom half back up onto Wade's chest, but only succeeded in grinding his soft, sensitive cock into the hard curve of Wade's shoulder.

"Sh, sh, sh," Wade murmured with kisses to the back of Peter's thigh. "Don't worry, I'll get it all in you. I'm gonna put all of yours in you too. Your come and my come all mixed together in your pretty ass, baby boy."




For some reason, the thought that Peter was about to be filled with a combination of their come, that he was about to have his own come shoved into him and prevented from leaking out with his own plug, was just… just… filthy. He moaned against Wade's leg and his hips quivered with the effort it took to remain still when he just wanted to grind against Wade again. If only he wasn't too sensitive right now, he may have let go.

"Go on, Petey," Wade said, and Peter could hear the smirk in his voice as he pushed another glob of come into Peter. "What did you wanna say?"

What did Peter want to say? Did he really need to say anything when Wade was taking such good care of him? Did he really need to- Oh!

"I-I wanted to tell you," he stuttered, trying to find his rhythm, even as Wade kept disrupting it, and trying to find his words. It was important and he wanted Wade to know. Wade deserved to know. "I wanted to tell you that I like- I like-" Peter interrupted himself with a cough, feeling his orgasm-induced drowsiness fading as his embarrassment rose to the surface. "I like how you- how you take care of me."

To his surprise, Wade paused unexpectedly, the tips of his fingers barely inside of Peter and mostly just tugging at his rim. Then, just as unexpectedly, Wade jammed both fingers knuckles-deep into Peter's ass and sunk his teeth into the back of Peter's thigh. A scream of surprise, and of surprised arousal, caught in Peter's throat, coming out as a more of a strangled squeak, as he bucked forward, grinding his soft cock reflexively into Wade's shoulder. His hips jerked with every pulse of suction from Wade's mouth, and with every brush of stretching, searching fingers over his prostate.

Peter batted weakly at Wade's leg, but Wade didn't let up, on either Peter's leg or his prostate even when it began to hurt. He kept going until Peter got harder against the back of his shoulder, and he didn't stop until Peter cried and shook his way through a dry, third orgasm. By the time Wade's furious sucking and the harsh pressure of his teeth eased - though he didn't lift his mouth from Peter's skin, nor pull his fingers from Peter's ass - Peter was crying and shaking wildly against Wade's side.

"Wade," Peter whimpered, fingers and fingernails weak against Wade's thigh. "Wade," his voice wobbled.

"Fuck, baby boy," Wade growled, forehead pressing to the back of Peter's thigh just above the throbbing circle leftover from Wade's mouth. "When you say shit like that I just wanna plant you on my cock and never let you off. I love you so fucking much, I just wanna fucking eat you up, Petey."

A shaky breath rattled out of Peter's nose instead of his throat, since both his throat and his jaw were locked up from the emotions choking him. His eyes felt dry from the tears he'd already shed, but none of them had been in fear or anger or sadness. Instead, he felt happiness and pride like a balloon in his chest, happiness that Wade loved him so much and that he understood the emotions and the intent behind Peter's words when he couldn't say what he meant. Pride in himself for being exactly what Wade wanted him to be, for being so good for Wade, without needing to change any part of himself, just by being the best version of himself.

"I think I would let you," Peter whispered into Wade's leg, unsure if he wanted Wade to have heard him or not.

The brief moment of screaming silence told him Wade had, but instead of another extreme reaction, he just got his plug, cold and wet, pushing back into his hole. Then, a hand unhooked his knee from behind Wade's shoulder and dragged it across his chest to join the other before Wade did some fancy maneuvering and got Peter upright along his body, smearing drying come and sweat between their bodies. It would suck so, so fucking bad when they got up, but for the moment, Peter just rested his ear against Wade's chest, letting the solid beat of Wade's heart lull him into a blissfully calm state that left him feeling like he was astral projecting. Though it had been morning when they'd left, the sun was already sinking and Peter watched dust motes dance in the fading beams of light through his window.

"I think I would let you," Peter whispered again, shifting until Wade's arms wrapped around his waist, holding him to Wade's chest.

"I know, Petey," Wade whispered back with a surprisingly soft kiss to Peter's hair. "But that's why I have to be careful with you. I gave myself that job and I'll guard it with my life." He paused and then laughed a breathy laugh against Peter's head. "So to speak."

"Your job?" Peter echoed, confused.

"Mm," Wade hummed. "I'll tell you about it another time. When you can remember to ask that's not during or right after sex, I'll tell you. Until then, I'll care for you how and when you can't. Never doubt that you'll always come first, Petey. Never doubt that I'll take care of you."

Peter let his eyes close even as he rolled his head to leave a lingering kiss against Wade's chest, right over his heart. "I never doubted that. I never doubted you."

"I know, baby boy," Wade said again. "And by the way, no guarantees on the secondary teleporter belt but I'll give it maximum effort."

Wade may as well have been speaking Cantonese for all that Peter understood him for the first few moments. And then he remembered asking for his own teleportation device and being promised an answer if he sat on Wade's face. He couldn't help but snort in a burst of surprised laughter, and then Wade was chuckling and Peter started laughing in earnest, feeling oddly buoyed by the unexpected gaiety. There was no such thing as a perfect man, but that didn't mean that Wade couldn't be perfect for Peter, and just because Peter was slow to accept it didn't make it any less true.

"Thank you," Peter managed between chuckles, and as far as he could tell, it could have been gratitude for the device, but it could have just as easily been gratitude for Wade himself, for being everything that Peter needed and wanted without sacrificing any of himself.

"Anytime, Petey," Wade replied through his own laughter, a hand settling on Peter's head. There was no way to know for sure if he understood everything Peter was saying 'thank you' for, but with how well Wade had been able to read him in years past, Peter wouldn't put it past Wade to understand what Peter was saying better than Peter did.


Since Peter couldn't actually remember what his food at the Mexican restaurant (of which he still didn't know the name) tasted like, he had Wade take him back the next day. He only realized his error when he walked in and the waitress from the day before greeted them at the podium, and he had a flashback of seeing that theater girl who'd caught them in the wrong bathroom. There was no death-grip on his hand this time, and he walked out, blushing, to the sound of Wade's laughter and a request for a to-go order.


Chapter Text

♪ B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark♪ // ♪ Can't be sure when they've hit their mark ♪

Good things did not just happen to Wade Winston Wilson. There was no such thing as unconditional happiness for him. Every single goddamn thing he had ever wanted, he had fought blade and bullet for. From the time he was still in diapers until now, there was nothing that could stand in> his way. Whatever Wade Fucking Wilson wanted, Wade Fucking Wilson got… Until it got taken from him. Because no matter how hard he fought for what he wanted, there was always some bigger asshole than him out there, deciding that Wade couldn't keep what he'd earned. And honestly, that was the most terrifying part of being with his baby boy - now that he had Petey, how long until he didn't?

Besides that constant, lingering paranoia, dating Peter Parker was probably literally the best thing that had ever happened to Wade Wilson. Better than strangling the fat sack of shit he'd called father, better than placing first in every single class and test the Canadian military could think to throw at him, better than meeting Vanessa at St. Margaret's, better than becoming Deadpool, better than literally every fucking thing in his goddamned life. The last six months properly dating his baby boy - actual dates and sleepovers and soft kisses and hard fucks instead of the drive-by fucks of the last few years - had been like a dream. He still wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't just having some weird, long-ass hallucination, but the fact that Petey was still the same Petey he'd been for the last few years was grounding. His baby boy was still reticent in offering affection, even as Wade could see the effort he was putting into being more free with it; he still had trouble asking for what he wanted from Wade, preferring a steady dialogue of body language; and he still shied away from PDA, though the Christmas spirit had Scrooged Wade's sweetie the last few weeks, making him more open to the PG goodies like holding hands in the crowded New York streets.

It was days like today, though, that made Wade think that they might actually make it, that Petey-and-Wade would go the distance until the end of time. Not only were they on a date, or what Wade was calling a date even if Petey was just calling it a shopping trip, but they were out picking out a Christmas tree. Together. Petey had invited him over with the express purpose of picking something, for a family-based holiday, together, and Petey had even let Wade hold his hand all the way from the door of his baby boy's apartment, through the subway, and to the store. It could have been because it was cold as fuck outside and he didn't have gloves, but Petey didn't make a move to let go even when they got into the store. They hadn't separated until Wade had spotted the candy aisle, whispered a quick "B-R-B", kissed the back of Petey's hand, and skipped off. Which he probably shouldn't have done because now he was not only getting less time with his sweetheart, but he was getting more time with his thoughts. Neither of which were desirable.

"Wade?" Petey's disembodied voice called, floating up from somewhere to Wade's left. "I want to know what you think about this tree!"

Wade grinned as he flung a pack of boring white Christmas lights back onto the shelf and took off at a jog, his heart doing the same thing at hearing Petey call out his name. It had taken most of the last six months for him to get comfortable with saying it, though he reverted back to 'Deadpool' half the time in private, and he still hadn't managed to say "I love you", but the point was was that his baby boy was getting more comfortable with saying Wade's name, like a barometer of how comfortable he was getting with Wade. Unfortunately, that had the undesired effect of lessening its effectiveness as an orgasm-trigger, but Wade had come to the conclusion that he would much rather hear Petey say his name whenever he was trying to get Wade's attention than when he was trying to get Wade's permission. Besides, there was still his ever-effective 'good boy' trigger, and his Dom voice.

A brightly-coloured endcap nearly bit it when Wade skid too excitedly around the end of the aisle in his rush to get to the source of Petey's voice. He found his sweetie only three rows away, and Wade was momentarily arrested for a moment at the sight of him, standing there so innocuously, frowning at a tree box. His heart pulled a Grinch, swelling three times its size, at the knowledge that they were there together and that Petey was happy with him, with them. He sprinted down the aisle, and he was only a few feet away when Petey turned his frown towards Wade, which immediately disappeared into wide eyes and a slack mouth when he saw Wade charging at him.

"Wha-" was all Petey got out before Wade crashed into him, wrapping him in his arms and lifting him in a twirl like they were doing an airport reunion scene in a romcom. "Wade!" his baby boy choked out from where his face was buried in Wade's chest, sounding startled and alarmed and offended. Wade couldn't help but laugh out loud and nuzzle the soft hair that was always a wild mess before letting Petey down.

"What was that for?" Petey tried to snap as he simultaneously fixed his clothes and glanced around for witnesses, his face bright red.

"What? A guy can't miss his baby boy and be super excited to be reunited again?" Wade asked, propping his hands on his hips and staring down at Petey, who only flushed darker at his words.

"We were only apart for half an hour tops, how can you miss me already?" Petey grumbled, stuffing his hands in his hoodie's pocket and staring resolutely at the ground. Wade lowered the medical mask he wore when he was out and about in his civies and bent down to bring their faces close together. Petey's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in a suspicious frown, but he didn't move away.

"Even a second away from your side lasts an eon when I love you this much," Wade whispered, and the surprise returned to those soft brown eyes.

Wade grinned and ducked down the little further it took to press a quick kiss to Petey's mouth. When he moved to stand, Petey's small, strong hands were fisted in the front of Wade's hoodie, and Petey's face was flushed a deep, deep red, his baby boy at the height of embarrassment. But the fingers curled against Wade's ribs tugged as Petey's chin lifted and Wade obligingly dipped back down for a little longer of a kiss. This time when he pulled away, he got to see a rare, quietly blissful Petey for a brief moment - eyes closed and face slack - before those eyes opened again, meeting Wade's for a thrilling second before, predictably, dropping below Wade's neck. Sometimes, Wade caught Petey staring at him when he was unmasked at home, but the second Wade met his gaze, his shy baby boy always blushed and looked away, just like he did now.

"I missed you too," came an unexpected, whispered confession, and Wade's heart Grinched again. Rather than kissing his sweetheart again, because nothing got him going like Petey admitting to his feelings and he'd probably end up fucking Petey right against the shelves, Wade wrapped his arms around slim shoulders and hugged his baby boy hard. The hands pressed to his chest wormed their way out, and he figured it was a 50/50 chance if they were going to push him away or reciprocate. He ended up with a little of both.

For a delicious moment, Petey returned Wade's hug, arms wicked tight around Wade's waist and body warm against Wade's. But then, well before Wade was ready to let go, Petey began to pull away and Wade, reluctantly, let him.

"So, what tree?" he asked, giving Petey an out to their PDA, a lead into a conversation that he could hide behind. His shy baby boy sagged with relief and turned back towards the shelf, and Wade played with letting him for a second before he gave into his own wants and draped himself over Petey's shoulders. They tensed under him as he wrapped Petey up tight, and a hand raised to his arm, hovering like it was about to push it away. Eventually, it touched down, and fingers curled over his forearm, the body in his embrace relaxing against him.

"I was thinking about this one," Petey said, voice subdued, the fingers of his free hand trailing the edges of a box containing a two-foot pre-lit tree.

"Mmm, it's definitely adorable, just like my favourite baby boy," Wade assessed, nuzzling the still-bare lower half of his face into Petey's unprotected neck, smiling at how Petey let him. "But if we're getting a tree-" he slid the noose of his arms down from Petey's shoulders to his elbows, trapping them at his side, and then suddenly picked his baby boy up and whirled in place, grinning at Petey's alarmed shriek "-we gotta get one'a these!"

The other side of the aisle, which Petey had been, apparently, woefully ignoring, housed the massive boxes containing the properly monstrous Christmas trees. The beauties of six feet and taller, in classic green or in that gross newer white sparkly shit, branches plain or adorned with lights of either the white or the (clearly elite) rainbow variety. "How 'bout that one?" Wade asked excitedly, pointing out a modest seven-footer as he let Petey back down to his feet again. 'That one' in question was a traditional green with rainbow lights, encompassing the style that they both preferred, but there was an added bonus in the form of decent clearance between the floor and the first branches that suited Wade's plans, both gift-based and otherwise.

"First of all," Petey said, sounding breathless, but the getting-over-a-surprise kind, not the fun pushing-past-arousal kind, "never do that again. Second of all, no. Third, definitely not. And fourth, I don't have the money or the room for that."

"Don't be silly, Petey," Wade replied, ignoring three-fourths of Petey's dismissal. "You totally have room in the corner of the living room and I'll totally pay for it. Problem solved!"

"Wade," Petey sighed; it was his 'I think I have a valid concern keeping me from saying "yes", even though you've already negated all my argument points with clear logic and now I'm only stalling in saying "yes"' sigh. "Even if I move the TV, it's still going to block my window."

"C'mon, baby boy," Wade wheedled, keeping one of his arms right around Petey's middle while he slid his other hand down the flat length of Petey's belly. "You've got plenty other windows to crawl in and out of," he continued, keeping the glide of his hand slow in anticipation of rejection, but he didn't receive one even when the tips of his gloved fingers dipped into Petey's jeans, brushing the fringe of his pubic hair in little sweeps.

The small body caged in his arms breathed in a deep, ragged inhale, and Petey raised the hand not already clinging to Wade's forearm and placed it over the one Wade had pressed to his ribcage, mimicking Wade's embrace, returning it. Wade's mouth was still uncovered and Petey's ear was right next to it, looking soft and unguarded and so tempting, so Wade gently closed his teeth over the lobe. The hubbub of the Christmas shoppers faded to be replaced with baby boy's shaky inhale as he nibbled the flesh gently.

True to the American Christmas spirit, the store around them was hustling and bustling with all the shoppers taking advantage of the advertised sales, trying to get their last minute shopping done. It was loud and it was crowded, but not in their aisle. All the tree and decoration aisles were like ghost towns compared to the rest of the store since most people got all that done the day after Thanksgiving. Still, for all that Wade just wanted to focus all of his attention on every shaky inhale and exhale from his baby boy with each butterfly kiss of his gloved fingertips across that little hidden strip of skin, he had to leave at least half of it on their surroundings, prepared for an intruder to intrude upon them at any time.

He wanted to tell the world - show the world - that Spider-Man, that Peter Parker, had picked him, that his favourite person in the world hearted him back, but as always, their relationship was on Petey's terms. He had never minded being baby boy's dirty little secret before they'd actually started dating, and he minded even less now, now that he knew to his bones that one day, he would be standing in front of the people Petey loved most and being introduced as his boyfriend. Wade wasn't known for his patience, but he had endless reserves for Petey. ...That didn't mean he wasn't an exhibitionist and, even if Petey wouldn't admit it, he was too. Well, Petey might have a bit of a subconscious exhibitionist streak, but only the threat-of-being-caught kind, not the actual I-want-to-get-caught-and-see-someone-see-this-happening-to-me kind, and Wade would respect that even as he teased more and more of it from his sweet baby boy.

"Deadpool…" Petey said softly, almost warningly, but the warning was ruined by the tremble in his voice.

"Yeah, baby boy?" Wade asked back, kissing down his baby boy's tempting neck, bereft of any marks from Wade's mouth or hands. He'd have to change that soon.

"What are you doing?" There was a growing tension to Petey's body, like he was getting ready to bolt any second, but the fingers on both hands, the one curled around Wade's forearm and the one pressed over Wade's hand, were flexing in time to their breathing. And it was 'their breathing', because Petey was matching the steady metronome of the in-and-out of Wade's chest against his back, though Petey's breaths were unstable, every one shaking out of his baby boy's throat. As usual, his sweetie's brain and mouth were protesting, but his heart and his body were returning Wade's embrace, the affection wanted but tentatively so, especially out where anyone could see.

Wade dared to dip the whole of his hand into Petey's jeans, pushing on his pelvis and cradling the base of his dick in the curve between thumb and forefinger. His baby boy's breath stuttered at the touch and the spine pressed to Wade's chest pressed harder into him even as the hips under his hand pushed forward. "What I'm doing," Wade drawled, pulling a little of his Dom voice into play as he kissed his way back up Petey's neck to his ear, "is imagining how pretty all those little lights will look on your skin when I hold you down and fuck you next to our tree." There was a soft, barely audible moan from Petey, but any sound, especially when they weren't enclosed in the safety of the apartment, was a victory. "Can't hardly do that with that little tree you like, now can I?"

"N-no," Petey stuttered out. His fingers were still flexing in time with their breathing and Wade matched the rhythm with the hand pressed against his baby boy's pelvis, pushing a little with every inhale to pull his Petey's ass backwards into his groin and the growing hardness trapped in his jeans. Baby boy was already hard in the curve of Wade's hand, and he contemplated trying to jerk him off here and now, in this strangle little bubble of abandoned aisle.

"Good boy," Wade murmured lowly, letting his approval colour his voice as he shifted his hand and wrapped his fingers fully around Petey's peter.

Petey's breath hitched and he curled forward over their overlapped arms, the hand over Wade's curling, nails digging into the back of Wade's glove. As Wade started to tighten and loosen his grip in a steady beat, Petey managed to straighten, just for a moment, before he sagged backwards, letting Wade take his weight and tipping his head back to rest against Wade's shoulder, exposing the tempting line of his neck. His pale cheeks were flushed, his pretty brown eyes darkened by arousal, and his pretty pink mouth reddened from the way he'd been biting his lips; fucking Temptation made flesh. Wade felt like he was stuck in that Greek myth about the dude who had to stand in a pond under a fruit-laden tree, both water and branches receding when he reached for either. Except in this case, Petey was both the tree and the pond and Wade's tragic punishment was only in effect in public. Sometimes, it made him wanna kill everyone in sight just so Petey couldn't complain that someone would catch them.

"Wa- Wade," his Tantalus gasped, eyes wide and dazed before Wade ducked his head to suck at his baby boy's pulse point.

"Mmm?" he hummed without pulling back from Petey's neck.

"You should- uh… You should get your ornament," Petey managed, voice wrecked. "So we ca-ah!-n get ho-me."

Wade froze and then slowly lifted his head, directing narrowed eyes towards Petey's temple. "Did you already pick yours?" he asked suspiciously.

"While you were in the candy aisle," Petey said slowly, sounding confused as the daze in his eyes started to fade. Wade stood up straight, pulling his hand from Petey's jeans in the same move, and his baby boy let out a little cry, wobbling unsteadily in place.

"We were supposed to pick them out together!" Wade exclaimed, outraged, and Petey turned slowly towards him with his own narrowed eyes.

"Maybe if you hadn't spent over half an hour having a seizure in the candy aisle, then we could have," Petey said with no small amount of acid. Which Wade supposed was fair. He did have a bad habit of taking too long to get back to his baby boy and he was pretty sure his sweetie was still holding a grudge from that time he was accidentally off-world for a year. His stubborn baby boy would never admit it, but Wade was pretty sure that Petey was also scared of it happening again. Petey might say he trusted Wade, but it would take a long time before Wade got that particular strain of trust again, and he'd have to work to earn it.

He stepped forward and Petey's eyes widened from their glare as Wade slowly backed him into the shelves, careful not to lean his full weight into his baby boy with such unstable platform holding him up. Petey jumped when Wade's hand landed on his belly, and his eyes flicked from side to side, checking for anyone who might catch them in their Not-Okay-to-PDA position, though Wade knew no one was coming; he hadn't released half of his attention from their surroundings since he'd started getting frisky. "I'm going to go get my ornament," he murmured as he slid his hand up to Petey's throat, "and then we're going to go home and setup our tree so we can follow through with my little imagining."

Wade curved his fingers around to the side of Petey's neck so he could push up on his chin with his thumb, tilting his baby boy's head up so he could lean in for a long, slow kiss that left Petey clinging to his hoodie with a wonderfully dazed expression. "I pinky promise I'll be right back," he said quietly against Petey's mouth between soft presses of his lips. "Stay right here."

This time, when he pulled away, Petey's eyes were closed and he was completely relaxed, happily having given himself over to Wade's hands. Even better, when Wade slowly pulled away and Petey's eyes opened to half-mast, he didn't immediately snap to attention or colour with embarrassment. Wade was so proud of him and all the progress he'd made.

"Yes, Wade," Petey whispered, fingers falling slowly from Wade's hoodie. It was such a beautiful submissive response that Wade contemplated the pros and cons for a moment of getting Petey to address him by the more conventionally-accepted fetlife title of 'sir'. And then discarded the thought almost immediately when he reminded himself that a sub's address was a sign of respect that differed from sub to sub. For Petey, his respect was in the use of Wade's given name, and Wade wouldn't change that for anything.

"Good boy," Wade whispered back, and pressed one last soft kiss to Petey's addicting mouth before he forced himself to pull his mask back up and walk away. The sooner he picked his ornament, the sooner he could get his baby boy naked and under him and stuffed full.

Just like the rest of the decorations, the ornament selection was nearly picked clean, but Wade gave every shelf a glance just in case. As much as he wanted to just grab one and go, this was a special Christmas - their first Petey-and-Wade Christmas, and not just Petey-tolerating-Wade Christmas. This was their first Them Christmas, and the ornament that Wade picked had to reflect that. But at the same time, Wade had no desire to spend his normal amount of Ornament Picking time when he had a baby boy waiting for Wade to fill him up.

Three steps into the aisle, shoved at the very back of the bottom shelf, half hidden by a misplaced length of tinseled boa, Wade found It. "Oh man, Petey's gonna get a kick out of you," he told the box art as he stood from his crouch. Which wasn't strictly true. Petey was more likely to roll his eyes and give a little shove to Wade's shoulders, but Wade was fairly certain that, deep down, his baby boy would appreciate the symbolism.

Wade didn't skip back towards his baby boy and their Christmas tree, but it was a near thing. Even if he had all of his memories, he didn't think he'd be able to pinpoint any time in his life where he'd ever felt near this happy. He'd been in love with Spidey for years, and had further fallen for Petey, but for all that he'd done everything he could to endear himself to his baby boy, he'd never dared to hope that Petey would one day love him back. Now, every day that went by where Petey called him 'Wade' more than he did 'Deadpool' (happening now with increasing frequency), every day that Petey let Wade crawl into his bed in the middle of the night (just about every night now), every day that Petey replied to a text (no matter how inane), every day that Petey allowed Wade to bestow upon his glorious form a little PDA (less common since dates were still rare)…

Every day that Petey grew more comfortable with Wade's love and his own feelings in return was a day that Wade wanted to crack open Petey's rib cage and crawl into his chest, filling every inch of him with Wade. He would be just as happy cracking open his own rib cage and stuffing Petey inside where he would be safe and protected and Wade's at all time. Whatever it took to keep Petey his until the end of time, because Wade was a possessive fuck when it came to his baby boy and he would guard their relationship from time and Death herself. He'd already been protecting it from Petey before it actually was a relationship, and if he could keep it and cultivate it while Petey was trying to burn it down, then he could keep it safe from anyone, especially with Petey guarding it by his side.

"Baaaby~ boooy~" he sang lowly as he turned into the aisle where he'd left his sweetie. The tree box had migrated off the shelf and Petey was leaning against it, expression distant, but at Wade's call, he blinked and started to turn towards Wade, a soft smile lighting up his face and inflaming Wade's desire to just fuck him here and now.


Petey jerked at the other voice and whipped around, and Wade's eyes snapped up to the man walking tentatively towards his baby boy from the other end of the aisle. For a second, Wade couldn't place the broad form or the bald head, and then-

"Mark?" Petey said, sounding surprised and confused.

Mark. Petey's ex. The jamoke. The fucking jamoke that hit his baby boy.

"You," Wade growled and picked up his pace, his gait intent. On murder.

The jamoke's attention flew to Wade and Wade could see how it took a moment for the recognition to kick in before his eyes widened, his face bleaching with fear as he stumbled into the shelves. "You!" he gasped, his body moving like he was either flinging himself backwards or he'd suddenly lost all ability to coordinate his limbs. Possibly both.

"Me," Wade agreed and pulled free the dagger he'd strapped to his lower back (just in case - regla número uno: never leave home without at least one weapon). "Oh, I am glad to see you again 'cuz ever since you left that bruise on Petey's cheek, I've just been dreaming of tearing you apart."

The jamoke definitely flung himself backwards at that and Petey stepped in front of Wade, eyes wide and hands out, like he was prepared to shove Wade away. Wade was, regretfully, forced to stop short just before he'd get the chance to find out whether or not those small strong hands would push him away. Normally, he wouldn't have minded - after all, Spider-Man and Deadpool had fought all the time before they became a portmanteau, but he was fairly certain he'd be sent flying to, at the very least, the end of the aisle, which would take him too far from his baby boy. His baby boy who hadn't defended himself the last time his ex had raised a hand to him and Wade couldn't be sure that he wouldn't allow it again.

"Wade! Don't!" Petey hissed, eyes darting around for a moment - checking for witnesses - before fixing on Wade.

"I told you I was going to kill him, and I follow through on my promises, don't I, baby boy?" Wade said, his voice low and angry, practically a growl. "You said I couldn't hunt him and I didn't. He's here on his own, and now I'm going to kill him for hitting you."

"Wade!" Petey hissed again, eyes still wide, but the firmness was fading from his hands, fingers stretching out and just barely brushing Wade's hoodie. "Please, stop," he said quieter, less a hiss and more cajoling. It was cheating, plain and simple, using 'please' when Petey knew how weak Wade was for it. "It's okay, Wade," he continued, curling his fingers into the fabric over Wade's heart, taking a tentative step into Wade's body.

"No it's not 'okay'," Wade snapped. His target was a meager ten feet away, and subtly trying to widen the distance by sidling along the shelves. "You stay right fucking there," he barked with a jab of his knife in the jamoke's direction. "Or this blade will end up in your skull before you reach the end of the aisle." The jamoke immediately stopped, but Wade's attention was drawn downwards at the gentle tugs on his hoodie, down to Petey's wide pleading eyes, his body now leaning solidly into Wade's.

"Okay, okay, it's not okay," Petey conceded, giving small little tugs on Wade's clothes every time his eyes flicked up to make sure the jamoke was still in place. Fuck if Wade didn't wish he had the twins on him so he could get to slicing and dicing. "But it is forgiven."

Behind his med-mask, Wade's lips curled away from his teeth in a snarl, more frustration than anger. He hated that Petey put his ex on the endangered species list, hated that he'd been forbidden from hunting that shitstick down, otherwise Deadpool would have camped out on a rooftop across from the jamoke's apartment after he'd left that night. He'd considered doing it anyway, but even with all of Wade's skills, he couldn't be sure that Petey wouldn't know what he'd done anyway. If anything happened to his ex, he'd suspect Wade, and Wade had worked too hard for Petey's trust to break it like that, no matter how tempting it had been. No matter how tempting it still was.

"Fine," he snapped, and jammed the knife back into its sheath with such vigour that he might've stabbed himself if he hadn't been Deadpool. Hell, if he were still a rookie, he probably would have been shaking from the tension, the need to kill, but his muscles and tendons were steel wrapped around bone, an organic Terminator just waiting for the opportunity, the command, to cut loose and wreak havoc and destruction.

"Thank you," Petey whispered, his expression fading from that wide-eyed look of alarm and pleading to one of soft, warm thanks. His fingers lingered against Wade's chest before they fell away as he turned to face the jamoke, giving Wade his back. It made Wade equally furious and proud - furious that Petey would give his ex his full attention, and proud that Petey trusted Wade to guard his back.

"What do you want from Petey," he asked without asking as he folded his arms over his chest, locking his hands over his biceps and locking his joints into place to keep from going into destructo-mode. Maybe a little part of it was to keep from getting handsy with a Petey who was sure to safeword if Wade tried to lay claim to him in front of the jamoke for a second time. The first time, Wade had cucked him proper and then offered to shoot him. This time, Wade was just going to have to be a watchful guard dog, a murder-happy gargoyle keeping watch, a deterrent against further harm. Or contact of any kind.

The jamoke was slowly returning to an upright position from how it looked like he'd been trying to climb backwards into the shelves, clearly trying to decide if dealing with Wade would be worth it to talk to Petey again. His face still pale and there was a slight tremble to his fingers, but he took a step closer anyway, decision apparently made that dealing with Wade's laser eyes was indeed worth a few lines of dialogue with Wade's sweetheart. "I was just surprised to see Peter in this neighborhood," he said slowly, inching forward with slow, measured steps.

His eyes kept darting back and forth between Wade and Petey, and Wade felt the his possessiveness rear its ugly head. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to bend his baby boy over their tree box and give it to him good, but Petey would "pancakes" before Wade even got a finger into his jeans. More chill, more socially acceptable, and taking second place on today's episode of Current Temptations, he would have settled for wrapping his his baby boy in his arms again, but he wasn't sure Petey wouldn't reject even that PG-13 touch. With his already non-existent restraint at its limits, if Petey rejected him in any way, Wade was going to lose his fucking shit. Then the shit-stick's words, and their fantastic implication that Petey didn't belong in a place this nice, registered, and Wade thought he might lose his shit anyway; he wished he had the girls on him so he could slice-n-dice and get this fucker out of Petey's life permanently.

"Meaning what?" he asked darkly. Judging by the little Wade knew of the leaking sack of garbage - mainly that he worked out of the country and he had a decent apartment that was actually somewhere near where they were, it was safe to say he made at least okay money. More than what Petey made, in any case, and if that fucker had planned on marrying Wade's baby boy, then he'd know that too. "That Petey doesn't deserve good things if he can't afford them?"

Petey shifted, turning himself just a little closer to Wade, tempting Wade's need to touch, just a little, just to put his hands on that small waist and pull that small body against his own. He wanted, and it was hard to keep from doing when he wasn't used to waiting to get what he wanted, especially when it came to Petey.

"N-no! I didn't mean- That's not-" the jamoke stopped and started eyes wide and hands held out just a little in front of him. "I just- I was just surprised to see him," he said again, running a hand over his bare head. "I was just surprised to see you," he said a third time, but this time, he'd dared to direct it at Petey. "It's been a while," he said in a soft, sad way that Wade decidedly did not appreciate. He also didn't appreciate being ignored by someone who should be on their toes around him at all times.

"It's been a while," Petey echoed in agreement, his voice distant and sad in a way Wade super did not appreciate and put him further on edge.

It reminded him uncomfortably of the time he'd played dildo for Petey's phone sex with his cuck and he hadn't realized his baby boy was falling into 'drop until it was too late to do anything but damage control. Only, there was no way his baby boy was slipping into 'drop when Wade hadn't even put him in 'space today. And there still was no guarantee that even a G-rated touch wouldn't be rejected right now - if Petey could flip himself from 'space to 'drop within a couple of minutes, he could sure as hell let himself fall even when Wade was ready to catch him - so Wade didn't dare to even put a comforting hand on the back of his neck. He'd been doing so much better since they officially got together, but a blast from the past, back when he'd still been a stubborn little spider, could mean a resurgence of bad habits.

"So… How are you?" the jamoke asked, stuffing his hands awkwardly in his pockets and rocking back onto his heels. "You two are… still together?"

"Yes," Petey said simply. There was an awkward beat of silence, a pause where the jamoke clearly expected Petey to expand on his answer, but when there was nothing further forthcoming, he cleared his throat uncomfortably and pushed on. Despite his better judgement likely advising him otherwise. That, or he didn't have any.

"Is there…" twins-bait started and then paused, looking unsure if he was going to complete his question. Which was a safe bet that he probably shouldn't. "Is there someone else? Is that how you two... " he pulled his hand out to gesture between Petey and Wade and then wiped his palm on his leg before hastily shoving back in his pocket.

Wade went tense, and as much as he couldn't help but understand the origin of the question (and boy did he not want to), it wasn't good for Petey's potential headspace. Silence reigned for a few moments before Petey spoke, but what he said wasn't what Wade was expecting, nor what he wanted to hear.

"Wade, could you take our things to check out?" He didn't even look at Wade when he asked, and man Wade wanted nothing more than to turn him around and get a look at his face. He was usually amazing at reading his baby boy but right now, Petey was a brick wall and it was… worrying.

"Don't make me leave you alone with him again, baby boy," Wade said lowly. If he left Petey alone with twins-bait a second time and his baby boy came back to him with another bruise on his cheek, then Wade was going to kill the jamoke, endangered species list be fucked.


Fuckin' cheatin'-ass kryptonite-using sexy ass.

"Fine," Wade huffed and dropped his arms, moving to step around Petey when a new character entered stage left.

"Babe! There you are!" Wade's attention snapped to the end of the aisle behind the jamoke and fuck Wade if there wasn't a baby boy-wannabe striding towards the three of them like he was on a catwalk, dressed to the nines in a fur coat, tight jeans, and black heels striding towards them. "I've been texting you for five minutes!"

As he got closer, he was even more of a fake-Petey than he had been at a distance. His hair was brown but a shade too light and the cut too short. His eyes were dark but more hazel than brown, and lined with eyeliner, demanding attention. The shape of his face was similar but all the angles were a few degrees off. The only thing that was probably the same was their heights, but it was thrown off by the heels. He looked like a bad counterfeit.

"Got yourself a replacement baby boy, jamoke?" Wade sneered.

Jamoke, for his part, looked down like he was abashed, but Wade's supremely petty and possessive side was inflamed to volcano levels thinking about how this fuck was still trying to get a piece of Wade's sweetheart a year after losing him.

Petey though, just turned back to the jamoke. "I still have your ring if you want it back," he said, voice that same, worrisome monotone.

Ring? What ring? ...The fucking wedding ring. Wade fucking forgot about that piece of shit after Petey tossed it away during their argument, but now that he remembered it, he was fucking livid about it all over again, the volcano of his anger bubbling closer to explosion. Fucking jamoke trying to take away his fucking baby boy. He couldn't even be sure that Petey wouldn't have said 'no', even if they hadn't gotten caught during their little game. He couldn't be sure that Petey wouldn't have permanently safeworded and kicked Wade out of his life to keep up the charade with his side-piece-turned-main-piece

"Ring?" baby boy-wannabe echoed as he pulled up, throwing an arm around the jamoke's waist like he was laying a claim to him. As if either he or Petey wanted that piece of shit. Petey better not want that piece of shit. Wade dealt with it once and he wasn't going to do it again, not when his baby boy was finally his and his alone. The imposter though turned towards Petey and Wade with a look that was so rudely dismissive that Wade almost pulled his knife back out. "And who are your friends?"

His voice, his whole demeanor, was like a stereotype of the most flamboyant gay caricature, which might have been funny at any other time, but his mere existence was an affront to Petey's, and Wade wanted to dice every last inch of him into bloody cubes until he no longer resembled Wade's baby boy in any way.

"Uh…" the jamoke started, then looked unsurely at Petey whose fluffy head nodded minutely.

If Wade could have trusted himself not to pull a weapon after Petey's explicit instructions not too, and if Wade could trust that Petey wouldn't reject his touch, then he would have reached out to wrap himself back around his baby boy, pull him back against the firm safety of Wade's chest, a gesture of possessiveness and protection. And as much as he didn't trust himself, what was really holding him back was the thought of his sweetie rejecting his touch. He already sorta lost his shit once, he couldn't let himself do it again.

"Peter, this is Patrick. Patty, this is Peter." Unoriginal asshole got a baby boy-lookalike with a baby boy-namealike.

Wade snorted and the jamoke had the grace to look abashed and uncomfortable, standing there with his boy's arm around his waist, closing him in, which he more than deserved. But a part of Wade was fixated on their casual contact, wishing that Petey would be as free with his affection. One day, he would, but that didn't mean that getting there wasn't still a little painful sometimes. Still, other times, Petey's awkward attempts at affection, offered despite his reticence, were just too fucking cute that Wade could barely handle it.

"And who are you supposed to be?" the counterfeit Petey said in the most looking-down-my-nose-at-you way possible. Then, immediately after asking, the brat snapped up a hand like it was the 90s and said "Nevermind, I don't care." Followed a beat later with, "Wait, Peter? The Peter?"

Petey's shoulders hunched sharply and he half-turned to Wade, whose attention was now, mostly, sharply focused on the way 'Patrick' was turning a disbelieving look on the jamoke.

"Wade, will you please take the tree-" Petey started quietly, again, and this time Wade immediately shut him down, no chance of parole.

"No," he said shortly, with just a trace of Dom to make sure Petey didn't keep trying to push him into leaving. He wanted it to be clear how much he was not okay with leaving his baby boy alone with his ex and his ex's catty twink. He'd been reluctantly willing when it was just the jamoke, but not now that there was two of them. Still, Petey opened his mouth again, the only part of his face Wade could really see well from this angle, but before baby boy could speak, before he could try to ask Wade again, that fucking twink was already going at it again.

"This is that whore that cheated on you, Peter?"

Petey flinched and Wade might have drawn on the both of them right then and there if the jamoke didn't look so suddenly alarmed and horrified. "Pat, no! Peter, I never-"

Petey's shoulders had drawn up to his ears, his head bowed down, curling in on himself. Nah, maybe Wade was gonna draw anyway. Ugh no wait, he didn't have the teleporter on him. Man, they're lucky he didn't otherwise he would have grabbed them and poofed out so he could decimate the both of them slowly and out of Petey's POV. To his surprise, wanna-be Petey turned to him, sneer twisting his face as he vomited out some garbage.

"I hope you know that Mark and…" he trailed off to wrinkle his nose and wave imperious fingers towards Petey, and Wade had to dig his fingers into his biceps to keep from cutting off the little shit's hand "-Peter broke up because your boyfriend is a cheating whore. He was letting some gross psychopath fuck him when he had someone like Mark. I bet he's still doing the dirty with that-" he sneered again and made a vague gesture through the air "-other guy, or even someone else. You should probably get out before you walk in on him getting fucked by his dog too."

The jamoke was looking like he wanted to run as far away as fast as possible, but apparently he liked his current boytoy enough to stick close and keep him guarded. If the way he threw his arm around the new twins-bait's shoulder and tried to pull his skinnier boyfriend behind him was any indication. Who, of course, refused to go. But what was most important was the way Petey was hunched over as much as he could without actually curling up into a ball on the floor and hell fucking no, Wade wasn't gonna let this slide. No one got away with insulting Wade's baby boy.

"Technically," Wade said lowly, softly, as he unfurled and prowled around his statue-still baby boy, "Petey cheated on me when he got with your boy," he educated the ignorant fuck as he closed the distance between them. This time, his baby boy didn't so much as reach out a finger to stop him. "Really, I was just getting him back."

The fake Petey stared at him with a raised eyebrow, daring him, like he thought either his boyfriend or their public setting would keep him safe, Deadpool's identity apparently still not clicking, but the jamoke was smarter. He knew Deadpool's reputation, and that the twink's imagined safeguards didn't really exist, and his eyes got wider and his face paler the closer Wade got. Wade didn't stop until he was standing just in front of them, and he ducked down close to get into the twink's face, pulling his med-mask down as he did. It was only when the twink's eyes took note of the condition of Wade's face that the brow began to lower in exchange for confusion and slow-to-dawn recognition.

"Hi," he breathed, grinning widely, sharply, murderously. "I'm Petey's gross, psychopathic dog. And if you ever talk shit again about my baby boy again, your mama's gonna find your corpse on her porch."

"Oh my god!" the twink gasped, recoiling as understanding, and horror, washed over his face, the realization of exactly who he'd provoked finally registering. Wade didn't doubt that the jamoke had told him exactly who Petey had left him for, but his new boy had just been too dumb to put one and one together. He got it now though. Wade's hand was straying towards his knife, just aching to make the math lesson stick, but small fingers brushed his, staying his hand.

"Wade…" Peter said softly, a call to heel. As much as his mouth was foaming for a chance to sink his teeth into his target, Wade was ever the obedient pet to his master. Still, he stayed bent low and kept his gaze fixed with those ugly hazel eyes for a long moment, long enough for the twink to start trembling, before he imparted one last warning:

"You better watch your fucking mouth or else I'm gonna sniff you out and track you down." It was a promise and the twink knew it, if the way he gasped again and stepped back so quickly that he almost tripped over Petey's discarded boytoy was any indication. Surprisingly, the jamoke got between his boy and Wade, jaw set, even though Wade would bet the girls that the jamoke's heart was trying to beat out of his chest.

There was a tug on the back of his sweater, a reminder, and Wade straightened slowly, pulling his med-mask back into place even slower. It was only when it was covering his mouth that he finally walked backwards, stepping around Petey's outstretched arm which fell away as he moved. At last, he resumed his gargoyle position at Petey's back, arms crossing back over his chest to make sure his hands didn't stray. He didn't like not being point in this little confrontation, but he was reluctantly willing to follow his sweetie's lead. At the very least, he could be satisfied with the way his promise had put both the jamoke and his fake baby boy on edge, judging by the way they were watching Wade with wide, fearful, wary eyes, every inhale just a little too deep. Petey was the only one who didn't seem on alert: chin down, shoulders up, and concerningly silent.

Like a cinematic tumbleweed, a shopper with a cart started to turn down their aisle, saw their little Mexican standoff, and wisely backed out and kept going, leaving them in their tense little bubble and making it feel like the world around them had disappeared.

"I'm sorry," Petey said suddenly, softly, head still bowed, drawing both the jamoke's and the twink's eyes. "I wasn't in a good headspace when you asked me out and I shouldn't have said 'yes'. I should have broken up with you when Wade came back to me." Holy fuck if it didn't make Wade burn with a possessive arousal to hear Petey claim him like that, so casually, to his ex. "I shouldn't have done a lot of things, and there were a lot of things I should have done. Including apologize sooner. So, Mark, I'm sorry."

Wade didn't necessarily agree with Petey's urge to apologize, and neither, apparently, did the twink who opened his mouth. But before he could try to offer his unwanted opinion on the topic at hand, he caught sight of Wade's jet-fuel-can-melt-steel-beams glare and snapped his jaw closed again with an audible click. The jamoke, though, just sighed and dropped his face into his hand to rub at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Petey shifted his weight to his other foot, fidget setting into his limbs, and Wade was about ready to cut off his own arms to rid himself of the steadily increasing need to touch, to comfort, to maim.

"Thank you," jamoke finally said, voice quiet. "I don't… I don't know if I can ever forgive you for what you did, but I can accept your apology, and I can appreciate you offering one."

Petey nodded. "I understand," he said, and then he went quiet again, still staring at his feet. His copycat was still staring fearfully at Wade, though Wade could see him recollecting his courage, probably to tell Deadpool off, judging by the little tics in his facial muscles. But Petey's ex... he was watching Wade's sweetie with an expression that kept flipping between sadness, consternation, and fondness, and it was time to get the fuck up on outta here before the jamoke offered any kind of "let's be friends" or before Wade offered to dismember either one or both of them.

"Would you look at the time!" Wade chirped with a resounding clap of his hands that echoed like thunder in the tense silence. Petey, the shitstick, and the stereotype all jumped and turned to stare at him, his tone such a drastic shift to the atmosphere that it burst the bubble around them, bringing back the faded sounds of the other shoppers. "So much time, so little to do," he said, walking around his baby boy to pick up the tree box and delighting in the way Petey's ex and his boy scuttled backwards to keep away from him. He paused with a hand on the box, squinting theatrically. "Strike that, reverse it," he finished, circling his index fingers around one another for a moment.

Neither the jamoke nor his counterfeit seemed to understand the quote, but Petey, well used to his references and general antics, just sighed softly at his side. The two numbnuts though were still trying to edge closer to the shelves, away from Wade… but it also brought them closer to Petey, where Wade didn't want either of them. Wade hoisted the tree up onto his shoulder and turned as he stepped away, keeping his body angled towards his baby boy who could protect himself but often wouldn't as long as he was in his civies; it was, unfortunately, unlikely that his ex would try to hit him again, but Wade wouldn't put it past the twink to be stupid enough to try to slap Petey at least once.

When Petey didn't move to follow for too long a moment, Wade let a little Dom into his voice when he gave a low, prompting "Petey…". Petey startled, head jerking up towards Wade and cheeks colouring as he shifted his weight and jammed his hands in his hoodie's pocket. He still responded beautifully to Wade's Dom voice, still got hot and bothered in all the best ways, even after six months of proper dating, even after three (two? Did Wade's year off planet subtract one from their overall relationship score?) years of being together, his innocent little sweetie was still so susceptible. One of these days, he was going to introduce Petey to the wonderful world of BDSM and he'd get to find out if knowing what Wade was doing got him even hotter.

"Um, yeah, okay," Petey said quietly, taking a step towards Wade, in a way that almost felt like he was angling for Wade to throw his free arm around his shoulders, to pull him in, but that gorgeous, expressive face was still closed off and that mouth-watering body was still closed down, stiff and halting. It was even worse than it was in the beginning, but that might have been because their relationship wasn't one-sided any longer. Not without a great deal of deliberation, Wade kept his hands to himself, though his resolution to do so was being tempted with each passing second and wasn't likely to survive passed the door of Petey's apartment. "Mark, if you want your ring back, just let me know," Petey offered, even though Wade knew he could, and should, hock it and get a little cash out of it to treat himself for once.

"That's uh- that's okay. You can keep it," the jamoke said, he and his twink slowly straightening from their defensive postures now that Wade was positioned to move away from them.

"You sure?" his too-giving love asked, shoulders still up by his ears. "I'm probably just gonna pawn it?"

Jamoke's eyes flicked to Wade, and Wade understood - it wasn't that Petey's ex didn't care about the ring, he just didn't want to do anything to attract Wade's ire. Smart move.

"Yeah, it's fine," jamoke said, beginning to straighten, shoulders going back, chin rising - not because he was looking to provoke Wade, but because he was falling back into the comfort of his own skin. Wade could admit, grudgingly, only to himself, that if Wade had never gotten involved with Petey, then his ex would have been good for him. Except for that time he took a swing at Wade's sweetheart, he seemed to have taken care of Petey during their time together.

Wade would gut him without a second thought.

"It's not an heirloom," jamoke was saying. "And I bought it for you so it wouldn't be right to propose to someone else with it." He'd apparently found enough courage to even finish his words with a bit of a laugh to his voice.

"Alright," Petey said slowly, ever resistant to what he perceived as charity and clearly trying to decide if that's what the jamoke was doing. "I guess I'll see you around," he said with a small wave before he finally started walking towards Wade and the checkout. Wade gave both the jamoke and his baby boy-wannabe a look that he meant to convey that no, they wouldn't be seeing Petey again if Wade had anything to say about it. They both swallowed and averted their eyes, and Wade nodded before turning to follow Petey out.

Petey didn't stop or look back once as he made his way to the cashiers, and Wade trailed silently after him, hating the tense line of Petey's shoulders, the way it read like Petey was uncomfortable having Wade at his back. His baby boy didn't even say anything when they reached the register, just pulled the ornament he'd chosen out of his hoodie pocket, placed it on the conveyor belt, and kept walking, right out the door. Leaving behind a still-angry Wade. An anxious Wade.

It was a good thing that the cashier worker was untalkative and efficient because Wade's temper was volatile at the best of times, but at the moment, the volcano of his fury was ready to blow at the slightest provocation. He wasn't angry at Petey. He kinda wanted to be, but he couldn't, and he kinda hated that he couldn't hate Petey. He'd tried before, every single time he'd been turned away, but he couldn't help but to love that baby boy of his with all his black little heart. He'd kill for him - not like that was a trial or anything; and he'd die for him - if he could. Instead, all Wade could do was live for him - as terrifying as that was; be there for him - when Petey allowed it.

He paid for the tree and Petey's ornament, his own ornament and the candy he'd raided stuffed in his hoodie pocket, pilfered and unpaid for without guilt, and snatched the bag from the cashier's hand. She gave him a venomous glare for his discourtesy and, any other time, Wade might have waited for her after her shift to punish her for her slight. But he had a baby boy to chase so appeased himself with the pull of a trigger from a finger gun and left without a word, tree box over his shoulder and parting the crowd towards the door in ways his appearance couldn't always accomplish in a place like NYC.

To his surprise, Petey was waiting for him right outside the store's door, but he didn't give Wade a chance to speak, just took the bag from Wade's hand without a word and set off down the street. That Petey did so without even looking Wade in the face or letting the bare skin of his fingers brush Wade's gloves was like being stabbed in the heart. Both physically and emotionally and unfortunately, Wade had plenty experience with both. And just like every other time Wade had been stabbed in the chest, he had no other choice than to just let it happen. And, since he didn't want to leave his baby boy alone in this state, he had no other choice but to follow him, feeling both disappointed that Petey was pulling away from him again, but pleased that he wasn't pulling away entirely. Otherwise, he wouldn't have waited for Wade at all.

Petey surprised him yet again when he bypassed the entrance for the subway - his baby boy tended to retreat to the depths of his apartment when faced with uncomfortable situations, and Wade had figured he'd be trying to get home ASAP. Instead, it was the start of a slow, meandering walk through the blocks and blocks of darkening, crowded, wet sidewalks. It might have been easier to handle if Wade had at least been able to walk side-by-side with his sweetie, keep him company hand-in-hand like their trip to the store, but Petey taking the shopping bag and walking away had set the tone for the entire return trip. As much as it grated Wade to do so, as much as he wanted to make sure that Petey was doing alright, that he was warm and comfortable and, most importantly, that he was still Wade's, he kept a good fifteen feet between him and Petey. His eyes remained glued to the way his baby boy weaved seamlessly through the crowd and ignoring the way the Christmas tree box over his shoulder was forging a path for him. Well, mostly ignored. A few punks tried to get lippy as they walked by, and if they were tall enough, Wade just had to turn to knock them in the head with the tail end of the box, but for the shorter punks, he had to wildly swing the box from one arm to the other, which usually nearly knocked them over.

All in all, that little bit of vindictive amusement was the only thing keeping Wade from sliding headfirst into the black pit of his burning depression and insecurity. The situation bore too many similarities to the time Wade came home after a year and found Petey with someone else, and yet, it was so wildly different that it left him feeling unmoored. At least back then, even though Petey had still 'hated' him, he'd still known that his baby boy was still his, that he would still let Wade make him feel good before kicking him out. It should be the same, minus the kicking out; Wade should still be able to push Petey down and have his way with him, take him out of his mind and make him feel good for a short while, but with a comforting cuddle afterwards. Instead, he couldn't get a read on his sweetie's mood, couldn't figure out if Petey was regretting ever saying yes to Wade in the first place, if he was regretting telling Wade that he was his. It got to the point that Wade couldn't be sure if he was more anxious about consoling his own worries or making sure that his baby boy was alright. Well, not quite true: Petey always took precedence over everyone, even- especially himself.

Wade tried not to dwell on the possibility that he might not be feeling so insecure and anxious had Petey managed to use his words to confess his feelings at any point in the past. It needed to come naturally, and Wade would weather the fucking apocalypse if he needed to in order to wait for its honest evocation.

Over half a day after they'd left Petey's apartment for the store, they finally arrived back home. Wade was still slowly ascending the several floors of stairs when the sound of Petey unlocking and opening his door floated down to him. By the time he reached his baby boy's floor, he found the front door open which was hopefully a good sign that Petey wasn't trying to shut him out. Unfortunately, it was just as likely to have been left open as a result of Petey's forgetfulness. His little danger magnet barely locked his door half the time, which Wade couldn't exactly begrudge him because he never locked his own door, but at least everyone in any of his apartment complexes weren't dumb enough to rob someone like him, someone who was frequently coming and going and always with more than one visible weapon on his person. Petey, on the other hand, looked like a teddy bear could beat him in a fight, and just because he could kick anyone's ass, including Wade's, that didn't mean he had to leave himself in a position where that was necessary.

When Wade finally walked in and closed (and locked) the door behind him, Petey's TV stand had been moved further along the wall, closer to his bedroom door, leaving the far corner empty. Empty for everything except Petey himself who was just staring blankly at the plain white wall, shoulders barely moving with each breath.

He kinda wished that he could be angry at his baby boy, but the few times he had been in the past, it was more 'annoyed' than actual 'anger'. And unfortunately, his anger at the jamoke and his garbage-spewing baby-boy-wannabe had faded to a low simmer during their hours-long walk from store to home. Instead, he just felt… tired, in a way he hadn't felt in the last six months of such pure, unadulterated happiness. He'd hoped he'd never have to feel it again, that exhausting depression that always ended with him in his la-z-boy with his D-Eagle in his mouth, but in the back of his mind, he'd been waiting for its inevitable return. Because no matter how hard he fought for what he wanted, there was always some bigger asshole than him out there, deciding that Wade couldn't keep what he'd earned, and he'd been waiting for the day that asshole to come take his baby boy away from him. And it looked like that day would be today and it looked like that asshole was gonna be his sweetie's ex, even if Petey couldn't, or just didn't, go back to him.

Wade watched him for a long moment, waiting for a sign that his presence was even still welcome, trying to figure out if his old approach to Petey-in-a-bad-mood would even work. If he could just get all handsy until Petey folded beneath him, but he had the feeling that his baby boy wouldn't fight him like he used to, if he allowed it. He'd probably either safeword for the first time in months, or he'd just lay there, quiet and pliable and just… unresisting, taking what Wade gave him without a noise, that dead look on his face that made Wade want to destroy the world. Wade wouldn't be able to take that. Not after having to deal with the jamoke again, and especially not after having to watch his baby boy interact with his ex-side ho.

It was a long time before Wade managed to move his feet, before he managed to step up next to Petey and put the tree box silently down in front of them. Petey just stared at the wall, eyes unseeing, and Wade just stared at Petey, looking for a sign that he should stay. Or one that he should go. Really, any sign about anything at all, but Petey just stood there, expression vacant, and Wade sighed. He should just go. Head to the dark, cold, empty apartment he hadn't thought of as 'home' since 'home' became a small apartment filled with the life of his sweetheart. He'd wait and hope for a text from his sweetie, but in the meantime, he had an appointment with his D-Eagle to help him forget about how his happiness was slipping through his fingers and burning down around him.

"Catch ya 'round, baby boy," Wade murmured, daring to reach over and ruffle Petey's hair and tempting fate by leaning down to press a med-masked kiss to his temple; he hadn't bothered to take it off or pull down his hood when he got in, unsure if he was going to be able to stay.

Petey jerked as Wade pulled away, turning towards him with wide eyes and the first signs of life since the jamoke showed up. "What?" he asked, sounding startled, no trace of the earlier hollowness present. "Did a job come up?" he asked, brow pinching.

"No…" Wade said slowly, turning to face him more fully, frowning at the way Petey's frown deepened at his answer.

"You're… not staying?" Petey asked, sounding confused, and confusedly hurt.

Wade raised an eyebrow. "Did you want me to?"

That adorable little frown deepened. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Idunno," Wade shrugged, hesitantly reaching up to push his hood back and his mask down, since Petey for some reason preferred to see his face. "Maybe 'cuz you've been the walking dead and kinda ignoring me since we saw your ex-side piece?" There was a bit of venom in Wade's voice that he didn't bother trying to hide. It had never been a secret how much he hated Petey being with someone else, he'd just dealt with it by leaning even harder into his baby boy's denial. "Just tryna' figure out if I'm gonna have to drag you back from him again or not."

This time, Petey straight up recoiled, horror sweeping across his face. "What?! Wade, no! No!" He surged suddenly forward and Wade nearly flinched but Petey was already curling his fingers into Wade's hoodie, chin tilted up to stare directly into Wade's eyes. His expression was… Wade was hesitant to call it 'desperate' or 'panicked', not when Petey was always slow to show his emotions towards Wade, if he showed them at all. Had Wade already gone back to his apartment and done a little metallic barrel frenching? Was he just hallucinating the wetness in his baby boy's eyes, a bit of pre-resurrection heaven?

"Please, please don't leave," Petey begged, tugging on the front of Wade's hoodie. Deja vu warped Wade's vision for a moment, overlapping the image of a frantic Petey with a quietly blissful one, lips red from Wade's kisses. "I'm sorry," Petey said, fracturing the overlap. "I'm- please, don't leave. I'm sorry," he said again, voice soft as he tugged on the front of Wade's hoodie, body pressed up close to Wade's like he was trying to crawl right up into Wade.

Just like that, the clamouring of Wade's insecurities faded, leaving only a whisper of confusion: why did you pull away from me?

"Hey hey, sh, it's okay," Wade murmured, lifting his arms and wrapping them around Petey's shoulders. There was a moment when his baby boy didn't move, wide brown eyes fixed on his face, and then Petey let out a long breath. He practically deflated against Wade, his eyes falling closed before his face disappeared against Wade's chest, his breaths just a little too slow and steady and hot through the thick fabric of Wade's hoodie. Wade pulled him in tighter and raised one hand to thread his regretfully-still-gloved fingers through the soft strands of his baby boy's hair as he bent down and pressed his lips to the top of Petey's fluffy head and left them there. "It's okay, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere."

Suddenly, there was a strange rumbling sound between them, and after a startled pause, Petey went rigid in his arms.



"...Yeah?" Petey's response was muffled, his arms tightening around Wade's waist, as if he was preemptively preventing Wade from looking at his face. Which Wade would bet was bright red in embarrassment right now.

"When was the last time you ate?" Normally, Wade was really good at making sure his baby boy got fed up, whether it was with takeout or his own cooking, but when he'd showed up this morning, Petey had dragged him right back out the door. And there hadn't been so much as a snack since they'd left hours ago.

"Um… It might have been last night?" Petey said, voice tentative, as if he was already anticipating Wade's disappointment - by now, he knew well how invested Wade was in his health, especially when it came to getting enough to eat.

Wade sighed and lifted an arm from Petey's shoulders. Petey's arms tightened further, almost painfully, but Wade fisted his fingers in his baby boy's hair and pulled his face out of hiding against Wade's chest. Sure enough, Petey's face was red, and his eyes were too clearly avoiding Wade's.

"Baby boy…" Wade said with enough Dom-disappointment to make Petey's shoulders lift up to his ears. "You know how I feel about that."

"I'm sorry," Petey whispered, shame thick in his voice. Wade sighed again and released Petey's hair but Petey, like a good boy, didn't try to hide again. The arms around Wade's waist even loosened, hands retreating as far as the pocket on Wade's hoodie, but they stayed there, as if Petey was afraid to let him go. Though Wade derived no joy from expressing his disappointment, he couldn't help but feel proud that Petey was paying attention to his cues, but more than that, that he wasn't pulling away from him again.

"How about this," Wade started as he shifted the hand that had been in Petey's hair to under his chin, tilting his face up. Petey's eyes stayed averted for a few beats before they finally met Wade's, and this time, Wade believed the wetness he saw on his baby boy's lashes. "I'm gonna make a food run, and when I get back, we're going to assemble that tree and we're going to talk, okay? Because I really need you to talk to me about why you pulled away and I want to make sure it doesn't happen again because it really worries me, okay?"

Petey stared at him a moment longer before he nodded hesitantly. "You... " he started and then trailed off. Wade waited patiently for him to find his courage. "You're not mad at me?"

"Fuck, baby boy, I could never be mad at you," Wade said with a soft laugh. "I'm just worried, yeah? Whatever headspace you were in, I don't think it was good for you."

"Okay," Petey said softly, gaze falling away, but his fingers stayed tight in the hem of Wade's hoodie pocket. "Promise you're coming back?"

Wade held up his pinky right in front of Petey's face, and after a moment, Petey curled his own pinkie around it. "Super serious pinky promise," Wade promised solemnly.

His baby boy's responding laugh was a little wet, but it was a laugh all the same. Wade smiled as he kissed Petey's forehead and then he reluctantly pulled away, resisting the urge to kiss Petey's mouth instead. Petey's arms were slow to fall away too, and Wade ended up walking backwards to the door with those strong little fingers holding tight to his clothes. When he got to the door, he had to open it without looking because wide, worried brown eyes were fixed on his and weren't falling away either. "Super serious pinky promise: I'll be right back with as much food as I can carry."

"Okay," Petey whispered, but his hands still hadn't fallen away. Then, he surged forward again, rising up on the tips of his toes to press a fast, chaste kiss to Wade's slack-with-surprise mouth. "Right back." he echoed, and he finally let go.

"Right back," Wade confirmed, and then stepped out of the apartment, pulling the door closed on Petey's sad face.

Wade stood there for just a beat too long, repressing the need to get back in there right now, and then he turned and raced down the stairs. He'd made a few food runs for Petey in the past, but he'd never tried making one so fast. The look on Petey's face as he closed the door followed him like a ghost to the nearest food place - pizza - and he had to suppress the desire to pull out his knife and threaten the employees to go faster because he knew logically that a pie could only cook so fast.

Standing there in that pizza joint, waiting for their food to cook was the longest twenty minutes of Wade's life. The second he had the stack of boxes in his hands, he was out the door again, but the crowds were no more willing to move out of the way of a large man carrying ten pizza boxes than they were a costumed man wearing no less than six visible weapons, and it took even longer to get back to the apartment than it had to get get to the pizza place.

The door of Petey's apartment bounced off the wall when Wade barged in, and then he had to pause on the threshold, confused at the dark apartment, lit only by the rainbow lights on the tree in the corner. Wade didn't know how to interpret the fact that it was already set up.

"Baby boy?" he called out as he slowly closed and locked the door behind him, eyes searching for the familiar form of his sweety in the gloom.

"Here," came the reply, for some reason low to the floor near the tree.

Wade stepped cautiously forward, and when he got close enough to see over the back of the couch, he nearly dropped the stack of pizza boxes. Because Petey was naked almost-under the tree, reclining on his duvet and all the pillows from his bed laid out on the floor. The rainbow lights across his bare skin were even better than Wade had been imagining.

"What's this, sweetie?" Wade breathed as he stepped around the couch and deposited the pizzas safely on the coffee table.

As he got closer, the bright blush on Petey's face was gloriously apparent, but it was the ribbon tied in a bow around the base of his baby boy's hard cock that nearly made Wade trip.

"I didn't mean to make you worry," Petey said quietly, very much not meeting Wade's eyes, which was good because they were probably a little wide in surprise that Petey was actually managing to initiate this conversation instead of Wade having to drag it from him. "I didn't mean to make you think that… that I was going to leave you, or that I was regretting choosing you, or anything like that. I was thinking about Mark-" the mere sound of the jamoke's name on his baby boy's lips made Wade's temper flare again, but Wade carefully held it at bay to hear what Petey had to say, "-but I was thinking about how… how horrible I was to him, but how horrible I was to you too. Mostly I was thinking about how I never apologized to you for how I treated you, for how I stayed with-" Petey's eyes darted up at the same time Wade's mouth tightened, which Petey apparently saw because he suddenly coughed and waved his hand vaguely through the air "-with you-know-who, even when you came back. You were always more patient with me than I deserved and you were always more loyal to me than I was to you and I just… I never said I was sorry."

"Oh baby boy," Wade murmured as he finally got his feet to move closer so he could drop to his knees at Petey's hip. "I know you are." He didn't bother to restrain his need to touch, but he did pull his gloves off before he laid his palm on Petey's bare belly. The muscles under his hand trembled deliciously at his touch, but Wade didn't let it distract him. Yet. "I always forgave you for it. I wouldn't have kept coming back if I hadn't. Like I keep telling you, I just want to make you feel good, I just want you to be happy."

Petey's smile was wobbly but not watery. "I am happy," he whispered, so shyly that Wade wanted to wrap his arms around him and stuff him with his cock and never let go or pull out. "I'm happy with you." He stopped, but Wade could tell by his too-steady breathing and the way he averted his eyes that he wasn't done yet. Was he about to say what Wade so desperately wanted to hear? "I- I-" His eyes darted up to Wade's and the hand on Petey's belly told him that they both inhaled and held their breaths in sync. "I'm still yours."

Holy fucking shit it wasn't the three super magical words but they were magical all-the-same and Wade would sure as hell take them.

"Yeah?" he breathed out.

His baby boy nodded and then suddenly twisted in place, dislodging Wade's hand. Before he had time to even be confused, Petey resettled onto his belly, arms crossed under his head and red cheeks still facing Wade. Something on his skin drew Wade's attention and his gaze fell on four damning letters tramp-stamped on the base of Petey's spine in permanent marker.


A sharp inhale forced air into his lungs and his brain might have blue-screened for a moment.

"I'm still yours," Petey whispered again. "I'm still yours."

"You know what I'm thinking right now, baby boy?" Wade managed to ask as he stood and began to pull off his clothes. Before his very hungry eyes, Petey's eyes went dark in the dim glow of the tree's rainbow lights, and his body trembled with each article of clothing Wade dropped to the ground with a soft thwump.

"Tell me, Wade," Petey whispered, but it wasn't a demand. Wade hummed as he knelt naked astride Petey's thighs, closing the hard muscles of his own thighs around the soft, slim limbs. His own cock was hard and he palmed the two perfect globes of Petey's ass, squeezing the muscle and then spreading, giving room for his cock to slide teasingly between them.

"I'm thinking about what I told you I wanted to do to you when we got home," Wade said, slowly sliding the wide span of both his palms, and the spread of his fingers, up Petey's back on either side of his spine with firm pressure. Petey whimpered and haltingly pulled his arms out from under his head to fist the duvet on either side of his shoulders just as Wade reached the ridge of his shoulder blades, and they only curled tighter when Wade dragged his hands back down. "Do you remember?" he asked as he began to tug on the base of his baby boy's plug.

Petey's soft mouth parted on a ragged inhale and a tremble setup in the body pinned under Wade's as Wade teased a little more of the plug from Petey's hole with each gentle pull. "Yes, Wade."

"Good boy," Wade murmured, and finally pulled the silicone free. Petey let out weak moan, though Wade couldn't have said if the cause was his praise or from suddenly being so empty. Either way, Wade consoled him by hooking his thumb in the slow-to-close hole, pulling gently at the rim as he fished the bottle of lube he always carried around with him out of his jeans pocket.

"You ready?" Wade asked a bit redundantly as he slicked up his cock. He already knew what the answer would be but it made his chest tight and warm even now to hear how much Petey wanted him when he let himself.

"Please, Wade," Petey moaned, not quite an answer. Any other day, or even if their day hadn't been interrupted by by his sweetie's ex, Wade might have really made him really beg for it, tease him for at least half an hour now that he could without fear of being kicked out before either of them could get off. But today, today Petey deserved an award for opening up to him, for not closing down on him, for initiating the conversation they both needed to have.

"Anything for you, baby boy," Wade whispered as he pushed in.

He kept it slow, making his sweetie feel every inch of his cock as it sank inside, and Petey moaned so very responsively, only wobbling into silence when Wade paused with his hips flush to his baby boy's ass. He didn't exactly mean to stay there, but as soon as he was inside Petey, he didn't have the strength to leave for a moment, delighting in the fact that being here, being able to be inside the tight, warm heat of his sweetie meant that Petey was still his, was still willingly his and wanted to be his. Like a magnet, his fingers found the letters marking his claim on his baby boy's skin.

"I wonder how well your skin would hold a tattoo," he mused softly. "A permanent mark for everyone to see that you belong to me." Petey trembled under him, the fingers fisting the duvet next to his shoulders turning white from the strength of his grip. "Or I could carve it into your skin, so that no one else would touch what was mine. I'd have to be careful," he said slowly, imaging taking one one of his knives to Petey's skin to carve out his name. Maybe a new blade, so that none of the taint of past kills would reach his sweetie. He didn't like hurting Petey, but the thought of leaving his mark, of Petey letting him leave his mark, only made his cock throb with arousal. "Deep enough to scar but not too deep, not deep enough to damage."

Petey groaned but the music of the sound was lost when he turned his face into his pillow to muffle it.

"None of that now, sweetie," Wade said, not unkindly as he fisted Petey's hair and put his head back. To make sure he stayed there, Wade palmed the side of his head and pushed down, pinning his head in place. "You know how much I love to hear how much you love what I do to you."

"S-sorry," Petey gasped, and Wade hummed as he finally pushed his other palm against his name on the base of Petey's spine. He leaned forward, carefully balancing his weight between the hand forcing the side of Petey's head into the pillow and the hand forcing Petey's belly to the floor. All of the strength in his body at its full power wouldn't be enough to keep his sweetie in place… unless his sweetie allowed it. The frequency with which he did never ceased to make Wade glow.

"How about I just hold you here so you're not tempted to move?" Wade said as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, and Petey whimpered as he clenched tight around Wade on the in-stroke.

"Ye-es," his sweetie stuttered, his hips shifting like he was trying to fuck himself on Wade's cock but couldn't with Wade holding him down like he was. "Please, please," he begged softly.

"It's alright, sweetheart, I've got you," Wade soothed. And then he slightly completely ruined it a moment later when he began to fuck in hard, slamming into Petey as fast as he could and making their skin slap together.

"AH!" Petey cried out, the sound of his pleasure echoing through the otherwise-silence of the apartment. His body bucked, his greater strength nearly dislodging Wade and Wade shoved down hard, pushing him back into place.

"None of that either, baby boy," Wade chided, leaning more of his weight onto both Petey's head and spine. "You'll take what I give you and you'll stay still for it."

"Oh my god," Petey moaned, the thighs pressed tight between Wade's knees starting to shake.

"Am I your god, Petey?" Wade asked, bearing down hard and fucking into him even harder.

"Always, Wade, always mine," Petey managed between jolting thrusts, but Wade fell still at his words.

"Am I yours, Petey?" he asked, leaning close, putting even more of his weight onto Petey to get his mouth right by his baby boy's ear, knowing Petey could handle it. "Do I belong to you like you belong to me?"

"Always," Petey gasped again. "Please!"

"As my master commands," Wade said. "As my Petey commands."

This time when he started, he didn't bother starting slow, just immediately gave in to his need to fuck hard and to fuck fast. Every thrust brought a tight clench of the walls around him and a ragged gasp dragged from Petey's mouth, and a grunt from Wade's. It had been a long time since he'd been able to raw his baby boy good and hard, and as much as he loved to take his time with such things, to make love to his love who deserved all the best things in the word, Wade couldn't deny that he also loved to wreck this sweet ass, pound it until Petey couldn't stand, until he was weak from Wade's love.

"You know what I just realized?" Wade panted out suddenly, the words falling from his tongue the second they crossed his mind. Petey was looking too fucked out to reply properly, red mouth parted and eyes wide glazed, but he shifted his back under Wade's hand all the same and let out a semblance of a whimper. "I realized that I've never tried making you come without my hand around your pretty cock before. And since you can't help yourself and I have to help you stay still, I can't reach that lovely dick of yours. I think now's the perfect time to see how well you can come on my cock, don't you?"

The sound that Petey let out was completely broken, a wreck of an agreement, but it was an agreement all the same. It made the wet sound of Wade's cock fucking into him that much louder, somehow; it was a sound Wade had frequently contemplated recording, so he could hear it even when Petey wouldn't let him stay around, but now, he could make that sound whenever he wanted. It made the orgasm coiled in his belly all the tighter, and he knew he could could come at any time, but coming never felt so good than when Petey was coming around him, his walls convulsing and grabbing at Wade's cock, keeping him tight inside.

"You close, baby boy?" he asked, still bent low towards Petey's ear. The only downfall of this position, of holding his baby boy down, was that he couldn't reach his sweet mouth, couldn't kiss the air from his lungs. He knew that even if he could, even if it meant Petey would be gasping for breath, he'd still chase after Wade's mouth, after his kisses.

"Wade," Petey moaned, as good a sign as any, especially when his body was so pliant under Wade's pinning hands, when his eyes were still so unfocused.

"Are you my good boy?" Wade whispered in the dark tone of his Dom voice. Like every other time he'd asked that, Petey clenched tight around him, his body voicing how much he enjoyed Wade's praise when his vocal cords couldn't.

"Always," Petey gasped like a broken record, but the kind of broken record Wade would happily listen to for days on end.

"Then I want you to come for me," Wade said, still in his Dom voice. "I want you to come on my cock and show me how much of a good boy you could be for me."

The only response he received was a long, low moan, and a slow rippling of the walls wrapped around his cock that abruptly changed to a tight clenching convulsion. It was only then that Wade let his own orgasm wash over him, only then that he let the coil in his belly loosen, but he didn't stop the pistoning of his hips until his body started to tremble from overstimulation and Petey's blank eyes were leaking tears, his body shaking wildly under Wade.

Slowly, Wade fell still, his hips pressed as tightly to Petey's ass as was physically possible, feeling that clawing need to crawl right into his sweetie and take up residence in his chest rising in his own chest. Instead, Wade slid the hand on Petey's spine around his waist and wormed it underneath his lax form, not stopping until he was cupping his baby boy's soft wet cock in his hand. Petey jerked but didn't try to dislodge him, and Wade shifted his weight until he was laying flat on his sweetie's back.

"You're so good for me, baby boy," he whispered as he pressed kisses to Petey's slack mouth until Petey began to return them. He left his hand tangled in the soft brown strands of his baby boy's messy hair and used it to guide Petey to his whim. "Always so perfect, sweetie."

Petey whimpered into his mouth but didn't try to stop his kisses, didn't so much as shift in discomfort even as Wade started to grow hard inside his come-slick heat again. Those gorgeous brown eyes stayed half-lidded through each press of lips, even when Wade swept his tongue across the limp one in Petey's mouth, even when Petey's tongue clumsily chased his in return.

For some reason, being so close to see those pretty eyes he loved so much reminded him of the hazel eyes of the counterfeit-Petey he'd been faced with hours ago, and he was struck with the terrifying thought: Where would he be right now if he'd never offered Spidey that blowjob years ago? The answer was just as quick to come to him, and nearly crushed him with its lonely potential: he'd be alone in his apartment or trying to bribe a prostitute to let him fuck them. Out there, there was some version of him that never made that offer to that Spidey, who was probably sticking his D-Eagle in his mouth at this very moment as that Petey was getting busy with that jamoke.

"I'm so fucking in love with you, Petey," Wade murmured, overcome with a frightening excess of both love and gratitude, so much so that he had to break from Petey's mouth to press his forehead to his baby boy's and close his eyes. "You don't know how lucky I am that you're mine."

"I- I do," Petey croaked, surprising Wade into blinking open his eyes and pulling back. The same brown eyes that had been glazed over a minute ago were clearer now, though the lashes were wet from the tears Petey had shed when Wade had pushed him past what he could handle. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm lucky that I'm yours. I don't know where I'd be without you, Wade."

Wade snorted. "You'd probably be under your jamoke inst-EAD!" he yelped in surprise when the tight heat wrapped around his cock suddenly clenched tight, interrupting him and forcing him into an unexpected silence as his hips ground against Petey's ass for a brief second before the muscles in his back untensed and Wade settled down again.

"No, Wade," Petey said softly, shaking his head gently enough to not dislodge the fingers in his hair. "I don't think I would be. I'd be alone here in my cold, dark apartment, either doing my homework or putting on my suit. I was lonely before we got together, but I was lonelier after you disappeared for a year. Everything was too quiet without you and even if I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, I missed you more than anything. I didn't want to accept it, originally, but you are the best thing to happen to me. That's why I stayed with you. Because I was yours the very first time you touched me."

Wade stared at him for a long moment in sheer disbelief, then joy ballooned in his chest until he could barely breath. Without warning, he pulled his hips back and fucked his hard cock right back into his baby boy, hard enough to make Petey yelp. And then he did it again and didn't stop.

"You know what saying things like that does to me, sweetheart," Wade growled, fisting Petey's hair tight enough to make him gasp. And then Petey's mouth curled into a mischievous smile that Wade had never been graced with before.

"I know," Petey said slyly. "Do you know what it does to me when you call me 'sweetheart'?"

The grin that split Wade's face might have been terrifying to anyone else. He suddenly levered himself onto his knees and shifted backwards until just the head of his cock was inside that sweet, pink little hole. Petey looked over his shoulder at him and Wade grabbed his hips bruisingly with both hands and hauled him up onto his knees and backwards on Wade's cock. Petey groaned at being filled again so suddenly, his head falling down between his shoulders. Wade let go of one of Petey's hips to thread his fingers back through his hair and pull his head back.

"Why don't you show me what it does to you?" Wade said in the dark, demanding tone of his Dom voice. "Sweetheart."

It was only later that night, after Petey had fallen asleep against his chest in of their little nest under the Christmas tree, that Wade carefully extracted the (thankfully) stain-free curl of long, red ribbon that had been wrapped around his baby boy's pretty cock and stashed it in his jeans' pocket as a keepsake. The ornament he picked out, the Beauty and the Beast ornament, extracted from his hoodie pocket, went on the coffee table next to the cold stack of forgotten pizzas and the ornament Petey had picked out: Beauty and the Beast.


Chapter Text

"I'll tell you about it another time. When you can remember to ask that's not during or right after sex, I'll tell you."

Petey was bent low over his desk when Wade got home, and Wade made sure that his boots made sound as he crossed the bedroom to get to his baby boy.

"Hey, Petey," he greeted warmly. He'd been reprimanded once before about interrupting Petey when he was in homework mode, so he contented himself with running a hand through that wild mess of hair he loved so much and a kiss to his baby boy's temple.

"Welcome home," Petey mumbled absently, and even though he didn't make a move to return Wade's affection, Wade was secure enough in their them that he didn't take it as an offense, especially since Petey was secure enough in their them too to welcome him home. Not to mention, his genius little spider was always super cute when he got really into his learning. So Wade let him be, just stripped off his weapons, mask, and gloves, and tossed himself onto the bed to watch his baby boy do his thing.

To his surprise, Peter straightened only a few minutes later and turned towards him. "Hey Wade?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" Before his very interested eyes, a lovely flush bloomed on Petey's cheeks, and it brought Wade back to how Petey had shown him only a few months ago under their Christmas tree exactly what Wade calling him that did to him. But then Petey cleared his throat and Wade forcibly cleared his mind because if Petey was refusing to come join him in bed, that meant that he wanted to Talk and didn't want to get distracted. Which was always a good thing, in Wade's book, at least, with his baby boy it was.

"Um…" he started and then trailed off, his blush getting darker, and Wade's brow went up in interest. "That thing that you do when we- we have um… when we f-fuck," he stuttered, his face a bright red.

"I do a lot of things, baby boy," Wade said slowly as he turned onto his back and crossed his arms under his head. He dropped his tone into his Dom voice as he said, "Why don't you come over here and show me?"

Petey's face hit max redness and he gestured at Wade. "That's the thing I was talking about," he said, even though his voice was a bit higher in pitch than normal. God, it was so cute when he was embarrassed. "That voice that you do."

Oh. Oooh. It was finally time for that talk.

Wade watched him for a moment and contemplated. "This might be a long one so you should make sure your homework is done first. You probably won't be getting back to it tonight."

Petey frowned at him for a moment, then turned around, closed his books, and got up to walk over to Wade. Wade rolled back onto his side and patted the bed next to him, and Petey came, if a bit gingerly, crawling up onto the bed and laying down facing Wade, propping his own head in his hand.

"So, what do you know about BDSM?" Wade asked, jumping right into it. He wasn't good with subtlety at the best of times which is good because at least with him, Petey definitely required bluntness.

"BDSM?" Petey echoed, sounding confused as his brow pinched.

"Yeah, you know: Bondage/Discipline, Dominance/submission, Sadism/Masochism?" he said with a vague wave of his hand.

"You mean…" Petey started slowly, still looking adorably confused. "The thing with like whips and chains? Like the Rihanna song?"

"Well, that's not a bad example, yeah," Wade hummed, the words started running through his head. Man that was a good song. "But there's lot more to it then that. Like…" Wade paused and tried to think of one of Petey's times in subspace that he might remember. "Do you remember when…" he started slowly, "you remember when you were all injured cuz of the dinosaurs and I came over and you let me take care of you with food then you let me take care of you with my cock?"

Peter blushed bright red at Wade's words, still unable to fully overcome his years of embarrassment. "Yeah," he whispered softly, more a breath of air than a word.

"Can you tell me how you felt when I did that?" Wade asked carefully. He knew how Petey felt, but he wanted Petey to say it, so that he could realize it himself. Because what Wade didnt' know was how much of their past Petey had really come to term with, even after his lovely apology about how he'd treated Wade. Which Wade had never needed, but it had been nice to know that Petey had come to terms with at least that part of their past relationship.

"Um… It was really nice?" Petey said slowly, still sounding confused. Wade was certain he would sound that way the entire conversation.

"That's good," Wade said encouragingly, nodding. "But how did it make you feel?"

Petey frowned, eyes falling down to the bed, but thankfully not like he was avoiding Wade's eyes, but like he was contemplating his answer. "Nice," he said again, but slower. "Kinda… floaty? Like I wasn't exactly in my body. But I knew that I was safe. With you," he tacked on, raising his eyes to Wade's again. "I knew that you'd take care of me and I didn't have to do anything but what you wanted me to do." He frowned again. "I've felt like that other times too, though? Like sometimes I just feel… not tired? Just… I don't know, out of it? But in a good way?"

If question marks could be an emotion, or a word, Petey would be emoting or saying it in spades. It was so cute.

"That, my sweet baby boy, is what's called 'subspace'. It's both an emotional and chemical state of mind, which you never fail to achieve perfectly because you, Petey, are a natural submissive."

His baby boy frowned. "But I don't like being hurt for fun though," he immediately shot back. "And you've never hurt me." He paused, and then spoke again before Wade could. "Except that time you kinda choked me which I guess was nice but you've never hurt me hurt me."

"A common misconception, Petey," Wade said with a wave of his hand like he could wave said misconception away. "A submissive is just someone who lets someone else, their Dom, or Dominant, if you will, control them. Now-" he said, holding up a hand against the rejections he could see coming, because Petey was an independent woman who needed no man to tell him how to live his life, "-that control comes in a lot of different forms. Sure, there's 24/7 Master/slaves where absolutely everything the slave does is dictated by their Master, under a predetermined set of guidelines. But what we have is something more chill that just means that you do what I ask you or tell you to when we fuck because you know it'll make me happy and because you know that in doing so, I'll make sure you're completely taken care of. That's all it is: an exchange of power, willingly given."

"Sooo…" Petey said slowly, and Wade was delighted by the gears he could see turning in that sweet head. "When your voice gets all low like that, and it makes me want to listen, that's because… that's your Dom voice? And because I'm a-" he held up one hand to make adorable air quotes "-'natural submissive', that's what makes me want to listen?"

"God, you're so fucking smart," Wade praised, finally touching Petey but only to ruffle his hair. Petey was already blushing when Wade pulled his hand back. "Hole in one, Petey."

Petey ducked his head under the force of Wade's praise, and it made Wade beam.

"Is that… normal? I mean, for BDSM?" Petey asked slowly, cautiously.

"What, being a natural?" Petey nodded, a short, jerky motion. "Sure. It's not why everyone gets into it, but yeah, it's common enough. Plenty of people probably are subs or Doms even without knowing about fetlife. It's just like discovering you like any other thing you like in bed, but it doesn't have to stay in bed. It doesn't have to mean anything bad, baby boy. There's nothing wrong with wanting to make me happy in bed. People want that for their partners all the time, you just happen to go the extra step of letting me give you some instructions to get there."

"That… makes sense." Petey was frowning, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm in the short space between them. "Did you always know?" Petey eventually asked, or rather, mumbled, his face still downturned, and still red. Honestly, he was taking this better than Wade had anticipated, and he was starting to regret, just a little, not bringing up this topic himself earlier. Still, it was worth it that Petey had been the one to start this conversation, that he was finally comfortable enough to bring it up. It might have taken nine months since their heart-to-heart in Wade's apartment, but Wade could, and would be eternally patient when it came to waiting for Petey.

"Not at first," Wade said, reaching out a second time to run his hand over the curve of his baby boy's hip. "You just kept responding so well when I talked to you like that, and every time I called you a 'good boy', you responded very well. Every time I'm in you, and I call you that, you always clench super tight around me. Your praise kink is so fucking hot, Petey."

Dark brown eyes, pupils dilated with arousal, darted up to meet his eyes for just a moment, and the grin that broke out over Wade's face was just as dark. Petey swallowed visibly and then licked his lips, the hand not propping up his head surprisingly reaching out to curl around Wade's utility belt. Despite the fact that Wade distinctly told his dick to not get hard, said dick perked up at the touch, excited that his baby boy was reaching out to him first.

"What about," Petey started, thankfully distracting Wade's arousal. "What about the other feeling?"

"Other feeling?" Wade echoed. He had a feeling he knew what 'other feeling', but just like with subspace, it would do Petey good to describe the feeling out loud first, to put words to the emotion.

"Yeah it's like… When you called me 'bad boy'..." he trailed off, frowning, as if he was putting puzzle pieces together in his mind. "Or like the way I felt the few days after you came back from your off-world mission?"

Wade curled his arm around Petey's waist and pulled him tight to his body, not for anything as sexual as he'd like any other time, but to ground his baby boy and give him the comfort of contact. "Describe it to me," he murmured, the air around the quiet and him unwilling to break it. For once.

"It feels like… like I'm sick," he said slowly. "I feel nauseous and… and ashamed. LIke I disappointed you and it's the end of the world."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Wade apologized with a kiss to Petey's forehead, "but it'll happen from time to time. It's called 'subdrop'. If we equate these feelings to drugs, then subspace is the high, and subdrop is the come down. Or withdrawal. Both pretty much can apply." Petey was nodding slowly, those cute little gears in his head whirring frantically to align his past experiences with his knew knowledge.

"After that time when I had um- when we did the phone sex thing," Petey spat out quickly, like he was trying to get the words about before Wade could interrupt him, "you wanted to stay with me to make sure I didn't feel the way I did when you came back. Is that why I didn't have uh… or go into… subdrop?"

"Right again, Petey!" Wade didn't-chirp, trying to contain his cheer. He was just so happy that Petey was getting it and that he, so far, didn't seem inclined to ask Wade to stop Domming him. "Me staying with you and getting you all fed and watered up was called 'aftercare'. Since subspace is basically both a chemical and emotional thing, getting cuddles afterwords chills both your chemical and emotional high, makes that subconscious part of you that thinks you're doing something super fucked up realize that what you did was actually super okay."

Petey was quiet again for a long while, eyes focused on the bedspread again, and Wade made sure he stayed grounded by running his hand back and forth from his baby boy's strong thigh to his tiny ribs. "Should I…" Petey said after a while, finally looking back up at Wade. "Should I look up like… porn? for it, or something? So I can learn how to be a… a better sub?"

Wade couldn't help but laugh. "Oh fuck no, Petey. First of all, you're perfect as you are already. You're already an amazing sub for me, my perfect good boy." As expected, his sweetheart flushed at his words and ducked his head. "Second, if you think regular porn is unrealistic, you have no idea how weird BDSM porn can get. Those cats are usually the sadism/masochism types and completely unrealistic. Especially for the kind of sub you are. Some people get off on that, and that's cool, but you're more the quiet kind that gets off on just being good for me, no pain required."


There was a long moment of silence during which Petey didn't look at him and Wade watched him carefully. "So… knowing all this, you okay with it? You okay with me being your Dom and you being my sub and all that kinky jazz?"

Satisfyingly, Petey let out a little light laugh. "It'd be kinda hypocritical of me to get weird with it now, just because I know it's a thing and now that I know the words for it. You've never tried to control me outside the bedroom. so to speak," Petey laughed and Wade laughed with him since by now they'd probably had just as much sex in public as they'd actually had in a bed, "and now that I know, you're not going to change how we work, right?"

"Fuck no," Wade scoffed. "I love you as you are and I love us as we are. Changing any part of that would be dumb because either you wouldn't be you anymore or we wouldn't be us. I wouldn't exactly say no to trying more kinky shit in the bedroom, but I'd rather keep it in the bedroom." Wade tipped Petey's head up and leveled a smirk at him. "So to speak."

His baby boy laughed again, and Wade suddenly found himself relaxing without really realizing he'd even been tense in the first place. Really, with what he knew of his sweetheart, this conversation could have gone a million different ways, 99.9% of them bad ones. This was honestly the best case scenario that Wade had been hoping for without even daring to hope. If they were any earlier in their them, it probably would have gone one of those other 99.9% ways instead, but Petey hadn't asked until he was certain of them, and that probably went a long way towards making sure this conversation went its best possible route.

"If you wanna learn more, we could go to a club," Wade offered. "Lots of newbies go to clubs to watch how things are done and get a taste of how experienced Doms and subs do it. I mean, be prepared to see some weird shit though. I mean, it's not weird to them but it'll be weird to you for a while probably."

"Can we go tonight?" Petey asked to Wade's delighted surprise.

"I would love to say yes, but if we go, I wanna look for a certain kind of event first." At Petey's confused look, Wade elaborated. "A lot of fetish clubs like to hold special events like costume parties or meets for newbies or exhibitions on one kink or another. And if I take you, I might be tempted to try something, so I wanna get some shit ready first in case you'll let me do a scene with you."

"Wade, I don't know…" his baby boy started, and Wade pressed a finger to his lips, a sign to hush for just a moment.

"Don't forget sweetie," Wade said gently, and Petey did a long, slow blink, "I have no intention of us changing. I don't think you'll object to what I have in mind, just that you might object to trying it for the first time in front of people. I just wanna put it on the table, and I'll let you decide, okay?"

There was a long moment before Petey nodded. "Okay," he agreed quietly. "Do I get to know what it is?"

"Not yet," Wade said, unable to keep from smiling at the disappointed frown turning down his baby boy's lips. "I can almost guarantee there will someone doing to their sub what I want to do to you, and I want you to see it in a legit environment before you decide if you'll let me try it or not. I could try to find some porn of it, but most of it's going to be of people trying to make a show of it, but in a dramatic sense, not in a real life sense. Make sense?"

"Yeah," Petey agreed, years of exposure to Wade's speech patterns letting him keep up when anyone else would have turned in circles. But he was still frowning.

"Something else on your mind, baby boy?" Wade asked, smoothing a hand up Petey's spine and back down.

"If it was that simple, why didn't you just tell me what you were doing forever ago?" Petey asked, once again surprising Wade. He kept doing that, and Wade loved that he kept doing that. He hoped his baby boy never stopped doing it.

"Mostly, I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to ask about it," Wade explained.

"'Mostly'?" his attentive little spider repeated.

"There may have been a little absent-mindedness involved," he admitted with a shrug. Petey stared at him for a long moment and then slapped him in the arm.

"You're an asshole," Petey said said sternly. It didn't stop Wade from leaning in to brush the tip of his nose against Petey's.

"I'm yours alright," Wade agreed.

Petey groaned and shoved at Wade's shoulders, using the push to roll away from him and off the bed.

"Where're you going?" Wade pouted, sitting up and scooting to the edge to plant his feet on the floor.

"Well, you," baby boy said, pointing at Wade, "have preparations to make, and events to look into, so I'm," he planted all ten of his fingertips on his chest, "going back to my homework. Which means that you," a finger turning towards Wade again, "won't be coming back until at least tomorrow morning."

"Oh I won't?" Wade challenged with a raised eyebrow as he snagged Petey's hand and pulled him back in close between his legs. It was easy from there to grip the back of his baby boy's knees and pull them up around Wade's waist, balancing Petey on his lap. And right against where Wade was hard and his Petey was too.

Petey ground down against him without a pause as he wrapped his arms around Wade's shoulders, his mouth hovering right over Wade's. "Tomorrow morning, at minimum," he repeated, breathing into Wade's mouth even as he worked his hips over Wade's, slowly bringing them both off.

"But I hate sleeping without you, Petey," Wade countered, wrapping his own arms tight around his baby boy's waist. He stole kisses when he could, but Petey was set on teasing him by pulling away every time Wade tilted his head up. But he had another thing coming if he thought that he was gonna pull away before they got off. "At least lemme come to your sleepover."

"I suppose so…" Petey drawled. Well, half-drawled, half-panted. Sweat was starting to gather at his hairline and the grinding of his hips was starting to get frantic, and it was only the fact that Petey kinda-sorta initiated this that was keeping Wade from flipping them over and sticking his dick into his sweetie instead of getting off with this highschool shit. "But you can't come over until at least three. AM."

"Whaaat," Wade whined. "That's like, twelve hours away."

"Guess you better get busy then, yeah?" The smirk on Petey's mouth was too damn tempting. Shame Petey wasn't letting him have it.

"I'm busy now," Wade replied, pulling his baby boy down as he ground up.

Suddenly, Petey wasn't in his lap any more and Wade was staring at the space he'd just been with no small amount of disbelief. When he finally managed to move his eyes to where Petey was standing, panting, next to his desk, a distinct angle to the front of his jeans, only then did Wade let his arms drop to his thighs. His baby boy's face was red and he was still clearly aroused, and yet he'd pulled away before either of them had gotten off. For literally the first time ever. Wade stood slowly.

"Baby boy," he growled, prowling slowly forward.

"Yeah?" Petey breathed, trying to back up but unable to go far when he was practically already sitting on his desk.

"What are you doing?"

Petey licked his lips and held out his hand as if he could keep Wade away. "Giving you incentive." His eyes were so dark, his pupils fully dilated, that Wade was still nearly in denial over the fact that he'd stopped himself. "Incentive to get your preparation done fast."

Wade stopped with Petey's hand pressed to his sternum, but he didn't try to push any further forward. "You're playing with fire, Petey."

This time, Petey swallowed. Hard. "I know," he whispered.

His blatant admittance gave Wade enough pause that it let him round up his arousal and his emotions and pack 'em down tight so he could unleash them when he returned. "You think you know," Wade said, stepping backwards towards the door, pausing only long enough to pick up the weapons, mask, and gloves he'd discarded. "But you're gonna find out when I get back. You're going to find out what happens when you play with my fire." It was both a threat and a promise, and Petey's eyelashes fluttered tantalizingly.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Wade got stuck in the bedroom doorway for a long minute, staring at the way Petey's shoulders moved with every sharp breath. Then, without a further word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the apartment. He had preparations to make, research to do, and a baby boy to get back at. Today was already looking a lot more exciting than he'd planned.

Petey was curled in a ball on the couch when Wade walked in, but before the door had even closed, he was up on his feet, pacing towards Wade. That is to say, he would walk a little towards Wade, groan, do an about-face, and would pace halfway back towards the couch before doing another groan-and-about-face and pacing back towards Wade again. He did this over and over as Wade watched, amused, from his spot next to the front door, waiting for his baby boy to finally reach him.

"You know we don't have to do this now," Wade laughed when Petey was almost to him. "Or at all. We can keep this all at home, you know."

"But I want to," Petey stressed, even as he was stressing out, his hands embedded in his messy hair, eyes wide before he turned away from Wade to complete his backwards circuit. He turned back to Wade sooner than Wade had expected, and this time, walked right to him. "Did you bring it?"

"'Course I did, baby boy," Wade said as he pulled an extra one of his hoodies from the small duffle he'd brought with him. Petey practically snatched it from his hands, and then for some reason, held it up to his nose. "I promise it's clean?"

Petey let out a frustrated groan and then stepped right up to Wade to bury his nose in Wade's chest where he took a deep inhale. "Off," he demanded shortly, tugging at the hoodie Wade was wearing.

Wade obliged, dropping his bag to the ground so he could pull off his sweater, and Petey took that from him the second it was free from his arms, shoving the clean hoodie into his confused, empty hands. He watched in confusion as his baby boy pulled on his way-less-clean hoodie, pulled the neckline up over his nose, took a deep, deep breath, and then suddenly relaxed, like the air had gone out of him. Then Wade remembered the confession Petey had made while sprawled in his lap in his apartment, all those months ago: how Petey had taken to wearing the hoodie Wade had accidentally left him as a source of comfort, to simulate Wade's presence when he wasn't actually there.

Cautiously, Wade reached out to wrap his hands around his baby boy's waist to pull him into a loose embrace. "Better?" he asked softly, and Petey nodded.

"Better," Petey agreed.

"You absolutely positively sure you wanna do this tonight? I mean, you only found out about the whole BDSM scene like two weeks ago," Wade offered one more time. This time, Petey gave the question a little pause before he answered.

"We can leave at any time, right?" he asked as he pulled the hood up over his head. Wade took it as a sign that he was just trying to hide himself in Wade and not from Wade.

"You say the word and we're gone," Wade agreed and he meant it wholeheartedly. Baby boy's happiness always came first, and honestly, there were worse things that Petey could ban from their lives. "If you decide you can't do before we get there, we'll turn back. If you decide when we're waiting in line, we'll bail. If you walk in and get the heebie jeebies, we'll bounce. If you decide you wanna try something with me that I wanna try with you and halfway through, you can't handle it anymore, we'll pack up and go. Pinky promise." He held up one hand with his pinky extended, and after a moment, Petey hooked his own pinky in it, smiling a smile that was cautious and weak, but a smile nonetheless.

"Okay, then let's go."

Normally Wade was more than okay with just taking the subway, but tonight he wanted to minimize any interactions his baby boy might have to have, at least before the event, so he hailed a cab when they got down to street level. It was a quiet drive, Petey uncharacteristically silent, so Wade occupied the time playing with Petey's hands, keeping him focused on the here and now, on Wade, rather than any possible future. When they were a block away, he had the cabbie pull over to let them out early so Petey had time to walk out the jitters, and also so they could join the end of the line from the back, without drawing any unnecessary eyes.

"So, first things first, when we go in, they're gonna check us like they would at a club, but they're also going to have us sign a waiver." Petey turned alarmed eyes at him and Wade reached out to sneak his hand through Petey's hood to cup the back of his neck. "No need to be alarmed. It's just something saying that we understand what kind of place we're walking into and that we're responsible for our own safety. It's part of the whole Risk-Aware Consensual Kink thing."

"Rack?" Petey said after a second, the panic in his eyes abating, if only slightly.

"Did my smart little spider end up doing some research after all?" Wade asked, smiling and pulling Petey in close to his side. The fact that it was a fairly cold night and the other people in line were already bundled up gave him the cover of keeping his baby boy warm when their powers kept them warm enough and it was more about comfort and grounding.

"Yeah," Petey admitted with a blush. "You said not to look up porn so I didn't, but I did look into like… blog posts from people um… in the lifestyle?" It came out as a question, like he wasn't sure he was using the lingo right, and Wade smiled and nodded to confirm he was doing good. "I understood - understand? - how I feel about you and how I feel about how we are, but I wanted to see if I could learn more from someone who was more experienced. From my side of things, I guess."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Wade asked, nearly full to bursting with pride for Petey trying to learn more about what they were already sort of into and what they were looking to see if they could get more into.

"I think so," Petey said slowly. "I'll let you know after tonight."

"You do that," Wade said with a little bit of Dom to his voice, and his baby boy blushed prettily and ducked his head. Which apparently brought his attention to the bag Wade was still holding in his opposite hand.

"What's that?" Petey asked, reaching down towards the bag before Wade carefully swerved it out of his reach.

"It's the secret stuff I wanted to prepare in case you let me do a scene with you," Wade said matter-of-factly. Then he leaned in close and looked around as if searching for eavesdroppers. "It's a secret, but I'm really hoping I'll get to use it tonight."

Petey raised an eyebrow at him, which could have meant any number of things, but thankfully, the line had been moving quickly and they were in the door with waivers signed in no time, questions about his bag wonderfully deflected.

"I looked into clubs and event galleries and stuff, but this is a lot tamer than I was expecting, I think," Petey whispered to Wade.

Wade almost laughed but he kept it in to keep Petey from getting embarrassed. "This is like the living room," Wade whispered back. "It's the chill spot for conversation and aftercare and all that good stuff. All the not-tame stuff is going to be through there," he explained, gesturing to the door on the far side of the living room. "Also, we're at the beginning of the event so the more people arrive, the weirder the outfits are going to get. That's basically a changing room so all the people into the dominatrix vibe are going to get naked or get all strapped up in their leather and latex."

Even as he pointed out the room in question, a woman walked out dressed to the nines in all the leather and latex he'd just been talking about, and a moment later, another woman came out in nothing but a collar and a dog-tail plug. As soon as she stepped out of the changing rooms, she knelt at her Domme's side and the Domme clipped a leash to her collar and together they walked away into the play area.

"Did you want me to do that?" Petey asked, sounding a bit pale before Wade even got a look at his panicked face.

"Only if you want to, baby boy," Wade replied easily. When those pretty wide eyes turned his way, Wade decided to take it easy on him. "No, I don't want you to crawl around after me like that. Maybe in a few months, if you like what we do tonight, then we can try it, but I don't want you to kneel for me like that and I don't think you want to either."

The relieved look on his baby boy's face might have been insulting if it had been from anyone else, but Petey was brand new to this and a lot of basic BDSM things were gonna seem really new and really weird to him. If tonight went well, then maybe they could keep coming back and they could keep trying more new things, but for now, Wade was going to keep it as basic as he possibly could.

"Wait, what do you mean you don't want me to kneel for you 'like that'?" Petey said suddenly, and Wade had to quickly review his word choice. Even as he did so, he realized they were basically still standing near the door to the atrium and were maybe just a little in the way of people coming in after him, so he wrapped an arm around Petey's waist and guided him towards one of the empty couches near the corner so Petey could keep a wary eye on their surroundings.

"What I mean," Wade said softly as they sat and Wade tucked Petey under his arm and against his side, "is that I wouldn't be opposed to trying something like… like that." Despite what some might say about him, Wade did, in fact, know how to be discreet when he felt a situation called for it, not when someone else thought a situation called for it. In this case, discreetness was required or else they risked getting kicked out and that thought didn't jive well with what Wade was hoping to do. So, discreetly, Wade pointed out a couple sitting across the room from them. Well, the man was sitting on the couch across the room from him, but the woman he was with was kneeling between his legs, her head resting on his knee and her eyes closed as he ran his fingers through her unbound hair.

Petey watched them for a minute, and when he spoke, it was while his gaze was still fixed on the other couple. "Isn't that… degrading?" he asked cautiously, curiously.

"Does it look degrading?" Wade asked back.

"No…" Petey decided slowly after a long moment of contemplation. "It looks… it looks peaceful."

Wade couldn't help but smile in satisfaction and pride; his baby boy wasn't immediately treating the 'life like an outsider usually would, and even though his questions were the kind an outsider would normally pose, he came at the situation with an open mind and kept coming out the other side with the right answer. "Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine yourself in her spot. Do you feel degraded?"

"No," came the immediate answer.

"Now imagine being in his spot. Do you think he's looking to degrade his sub?"

"No," again.

"Now, it's true that for some, degradation and humiliation is the name of the game," Wade conceded and Petey, still deep inside his hood - deep inside Wade's hood - snorted, “but just because something outside this club, outside this lifestyle, might be degrading out there, doesn't mean it holds the same meaning in here. Just like how sometimes in the bedroom there are people that like to call their partner daddy doesn't mean they actually wanna fuck their dad, right?" This time, Peter's shoulders convulsed under Wade's arm and his hand flew up to clap over his mouth, but Wade still caught some of the muffled laughter his baby boy was trying to hide.

"Right," Petey agreed when he finally got himself under control, and he finally turned to face Wade, a wide grin splitting his face just as one was splitting Wade's.

"So, feel free to ask me any questions about anything you see, but before you do, I want you to think about why both the Dom and the sub might be doing what they're doing, 'k, sweetie?" Petey's face flushed and his grin relaxed into more of a smile, but he nodded. "That's my good boy," Wade praised with a kiss to Petey's forehead. "You ready to go take a look at the playroom?"

"Do I need to like… strip first?" Petey asked with a glance towards the changing rooms.

"Not if you don't want to," Wade replied. "This is probably one of the chillest places you could ever hang, and as long as you're following the rules, anything goes."

"I'll- I'll wait then," Petey decided, his hands disappearing into the hoodie's pocket as he stood alongside Wade.

"Whatever you want, Petey," he reminded his sweetie as he tightened the arm around his baby boy's shoulders and guided them into the playroom.

The club's setup had mostly muffled the sounds of slaps and moans, but when they came out the other end of the hallway, the sound effects hit them full force, and Petey went rigid in his arm when faced with the sight of no less than four scenes in different stages of completion from different walks of the fetlife. There was a medical play corner where a sub on an examination table already had a thick sound up their dick and as their Dom stuck needles in their tits. There was a man strapped down on a spanking horse getting flogged so hard by his enthusiastic Dom that he was crying. The dominatrix-geared Domme him and Petey saw in the living room had tied her naked sub to a Saint Andrew's cross, ropes covering nearly all of her skin from sight except where the bases of her boobs were wrapped so tight that it was turning the flesh purple. And across from them was a more tame pair of rope bunnies, a man carefully tying his sub up in intricate knots, including a knot pressed right up against her clit, the rope disappearing through the folds of her vag in a classic chastity belt tie.

"Wade?" Petey whispered, one of his hands coming out of his hoodie pocket to curl into the fabric against Wade's ribs.

"Yeah, baby boy?" Wade whispered back, ducking his head down to get his mouth closer to Petey's ear.

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for all of this," came the whispered confession, the words sounding harsh like Petey had to force himself to admit it.

"Good boy," Wade said softly, and Petey's head jerked up, his baby boy still unprepared for praise when praise was due. "I'm proud of you for letting me know. Now, there's three things we can do from here, and I want you to tell me which one you want to do, not what you think I want you to want, k?" Petey nodded and Wade held up the index finger on his free hand. "Option one: we can bail right here and now; I promised you we could leave anytime you wanted, no matter how far in we were, so if you're at that point right now, then we can bail, no shame." Up went his middle finger. "On the other end of the scale: if the room is just a little too intense and you just need a moment to collect but don't wanna bail just yet, then we can go back into the living room and we can chill there 'till you're ready to try again." He popped up his ring finger and waved all three digits enticingly. "Or there's door number three: where you're okay with staying in here, but there's certain exhibits you're not yet comfortable exhibiting yet."

Petey gave Wade's hand the cutest staredown, as if he could glare Wade's fingers into making the decision for him. Wade knew which one he'd prefer to do, both for him and for Petey, but this wasn't about him so this was one choice he couldn't make for his baby boy. Eventually, Petey raised both of his hands, covered by the ends of his borrowed, too-large hoodie, and he curled one hand around Wade's ring finger as his other hand pushed Wade's index and middle fingers down. "I want to stay and look around a little," he admitted quietly.

Wade smiled warmly at him and uncurled his fingers so he could cup Petey's cheek and turn his mouth towards Wade's for a kiss. "You got it," he whispered back. "Which one, baby boy?"

His baby boy's cheek was warm against his palm, and bright red, and he didn't managed to make eye contact, but he did reply, "The one with the ropes. Not the one with the uh… the X."

"Alright," Wade agreed easily. Really, the setup couldn't have been more opportune than if he'd planned it himself. "Lead the way." It might have been a bit mean, to have Petey go first, without even the comforting weight of Wade's Dom voice behind the instruction, but Wade really did want Petey to get more comfortable with the scene because he definitely wanted to bring his baby boy back. He compromised a bit by keeping the loop of the arm around Petey's shoulders nice and heavy and tight, but he didn't take a step before Petey did, made sure Petey was the one to decide every move they made.

What should have been a straightforward path to the other side of the room turned into an adorably hilarious meandering snake of a path, wobbling and curving this way and that, including several little loops Petey made like he'd changed his mind and was about to bolt towards the door before swinging around in an awkward 180 with Wade hanging off his shoulders back towards his original goal. What should have only taken a few seconds ended up taking nearly 10 minutes, but Wade didn't mind. He was just happy that Petey was pushing his way through his nervousness like a champ, but more than that, that they were spending this time together.

Whether Petey picked up on the invisible bubble around the rope bunnies doing their scene or his natural anxiety kept him back, Wade couldn't be sure. Either way, Petey stopped an appropriate viewing distance away, and Wade slowly shifted to his back to drape both arms over Petey's shoulders, giving him a sense of shielding. With the weight of Wade's bag resting against Peter's stomach, and Wade large and solid at his back, it would not only give Petey something to lean against, but also provide him a sense of protection. The Dom spared them a brief nod, and a cataloging glance, before returning to his ropework; the sub looked like she was deep into 'space, her eyes glazed and her body loose in her Dom's hands.

"This one seems the tamest," Petey whispered, wrapping his fingers around Wade's forearms, "but I don't… I don't think I understand the appeal? I mean, I've been captured and tied up before and this looks like it would feel like that. Claustrophobic and… and… distressing."

"Well…" Wade whispered back, sliding his arms down and wrapping them tighter around Petey to pin his baby boy's arms to his side. He slid one hand up Petey's chest and wrapped it around the front of his sweetie's throat, gripping firmly with the tips of his fingers without exerting force over Petey's windpipe. "Bet you've been choked by some big baddie before too. Bet they've held you down by your neck until you thought you were going to die, until you had to fight your way out."

Petey shuddered and inhaled sharply and whimpered in his arms, and Wade had no doubts that the reason for all those little reactions was in no way related to anything sexy. His baby boy was one of the strongest people Wade had ever met, but even he couldn't architect the framework of his own dreams, and he'd woken up from a nightmare more than once, had curled into Wade's chest, shaking and sweating and breathing hard, more than once.

"Do you feel that way when I touch your neck?" Wade continued, increasing the pressure of his hand slowly. "Do you feel like panicking when I start to squeeze your throat, cut off your air?"

"N-no," Petey gasped out, his fingers spasming around Wade's forearms but not pulling, not trying to break Wade's grip on his throat.

"You trust that, even though I'm doing something to you that you've had a bad experience with with someone else in the past, that I'll take care of you, that I'll keep you safe and happy, don't you?" The first time Wade had choked his baby boy was way back when they first got together, maybe about six months in? He'd gone probably a little overboard and indulged in a little breathplay with his baby boy in an alley, left a pretty ring of bruises around his throat, but even then, even that early into their previous non-relationship, Petey had trusted him when Wade had asked for it. He'd shed his initial panic under the persuasion of Wade's Dom voice, and had ultimately left himself in Wade's capable hands.

"You know i do," Petey said, response strengthening only a little as Wade loosened his fingers again.

"Then try to imagine that I'm the one that caught you in my web. Imagine it's me tying you up, that it's my hands wrapping your pretty skin in my rope, that I'm the one binding you up tight and safe and mine." Wade kept his voice low and deep and soft, not quite his Dom voice, but not far from it.

This time, when Petey shuddered in his arms, Wade knew it wasn't from fear or anxiety, especially not when his baby boy let a weak little moan slip past his guard, not when the fingers around his forearms spasmed and then gripped tight, tugging as if he could get Wade to wrap even further around him. Then, a moment later, one hand forced itself to uncurl and there was a tapping against the small duffle in Wade's hand.

"Is that what you brought with you? Is that what you wanted to try with me tonight?" Petey asked softly. "What he's doing to her?"

"That's why you're my genius itsy bitsy spider, baby boy," Wade praised, nuzzling against Petey's cheek. It was only then that Wade realized he'd completely forgotten about the Dom and sub they'd come over to watch in the first place, and he only realized that because the Dom was in the middle of untying his sub. Perfect timing. Well, only if Petey actually said yes. "Yes, I brought ropes with me, and I do want to tie you up in them. Not quite like them, though. What I want to do to you is wrap you so tight you can't breathe without feeling me, and string you up with that grid on the ceiling so I could raise you to just the right height to fuck you."

"He-ere?" Petey rasped, beginning to squirm in Wade's arms. He would bet his inalienable right to eat tacos that, if he put a hand to the zip on Petey's jeans, his sweetie would not only be hard, but would arch into his palm and whine for it. "You want to fuck me here? Can- Is that even allowed?"

Wade chuckled. "Baby boy, it's a fetish club. As long as we clean up after ourselves, no one gives a fuck. In the metaphorical sense. In the physical sense, a lot of people coming through are giving fucks. And coming." There was a beat of silence, and then Petey snorted, a good sign if Wade had ever heard one. "So, whaddya say? Wanna give it a go? Wanna see what it's like to be caught by me?"

"Technically," his baby boy said as he turned slowly in Wade's arms, "I already know what it's like to be caught by you." His eyes were downcast, his lip looked red and raw, like he'd been biting on it, and his cheeks were red, but Petey was holding tight to Wade's hoodie and wasn't trying to bail, despite the lead-in on his reply. Wade waited for his actual answer with baited breath. "But um… yeah. Yeah, I think I want to try this. With you."

Wade inhaled sharply through his nose. "Yeah?" he breathed, the first whispers of arousal starting to work through his body.

"Yeah," Petey replied, the red on his cheeks darkening. "Do I uh- do I need to be naked?" he choked out.

"Have no fear, I brought you something to wear, just in case!" Wade declared as he stepped back and let his arms fall so he could get to his duffle bag. From its depths, he pulled out an even smaller bag and deposited in Petey's confused hands. "Go back to those changing rooms, take what's in this bag out, take off everything you're wearing and put it in the bag, then put on only what I brought you."

Petey stared at the bag for a long moment before he managed to raise his eyes to meet Wade's. "I can't tell if you were hopeful or just well prepared."

"Both is good," Wade replied, moving behind Petey to give him a pat on the ass. "Now, hayaku. The sooner you get changed, the sooner you can come back and we can play."

A burning glare was shot at Wade from over his baby boy's shoulder, and then Petey headed off, his shoulders high and tense, his gait a little awkward in his anxiety. He wouldn't be uncomfortable or anxious for long though, because Wade had no doubt that he was going to successfully pull his sweetie out of his mind in no time.

It was almost impossible to contain the happiness in his chest, like someone had created a mini sun, right under his breastplate. The only thing that kept him from exploding was the thought that he needed to stay calm for Petey, that he needed to stay calm to get setup for his baby boy. Wade took a few deep breaths, gave himself a few moments to ground himself in Petey's needs, and then got to work.

There was a video camera on a tripod angled just right to capture the space, and a little note attached to flag down a Dungeon Master for a blank tape. After he got his mitts on the ancient technology (and asked the DM to keep an eye out and nay-say any other wishful recorders and/or picture takers), Wade started pulling his supplies from his bag. He didn't really need a lot of things for Petey's first scene, just a pair of safety shears, a new toy for what Wade had in mind, and his carefully dyed bundles of rope, but there was a lot of rope. He didn't want to run out, after all.

The grid on the ceiling was too far out of reach for even Wade, but there was a mechanism on the back wall that let him lower it until it was just low enough for Wade to wrap his his hands around the bars without rising to his toes. He'd just meandered back to the little side table, unable to keep himself with poking and prodding his arrangement of tools, when his phone vibrated in his pocket.


In a smooth move, he flipped it open as he turned and tucked it in the safety of his hood. "Thank you for calling the Red Hot Loveline, my name is Dr. Wilson, how can I help you today?"

"I don't know about this, Wade," Petey said quickly, the words rushing at Wade without even a chuckle at Wade's greeting, which meant he hadn't heard it or, more likely, he was dealing with a minor panic attack.

"Talk me through it, baby boy," Wade said softly, immediately switching gears and keeping his voice calm and even. "Tell me what's going on." He gave a little Dom to the instruction, though he wasn't sure how well it would translate over the phone.

There was a wobbling inhale from the other end of the line, and then a long slow exhale. "I'm just- I'm really nervous about people looking at me on my way back. Even when I walked in here I could feel them staring at me and- What if they just know that I'm new to this? That I have no clue what I'm doing? And i'm just going to walk out there in- in- these?!" His voice had reached a hysteric high and Wade softly shushed him, restraining his desire to walk right into that changing room and help his baby boy through his crisis - he'd be stronger with Wade helping him from a distance.

"I know it's a scary thought, but yeah, there will be people staring at you when you come back to me because you're hot as fuck and I bet your ass, and your legs, are going to look fucking fantastic." There was a soft sound that could have been anything from Petey sighing to snorting, and anything else in between. "Anyone here would be lucky to have you, but you're mine, and some of those eyes on you are going to be envious."

"...Why envious?" Petey asked softly, the panic fading from his voice.

Wade shrugged, even though his baby boy couldn't see it. "Idunno, probably because they're either wishing they had you or that they were you. The point is that yeah, people are probably gonna look, but people look at you everywhere you go, from the second you step out your front door 'til the second you walk back in it. Only difference is these people aren't gonna judge you."

"Okay," Petey whispered, and then a moment later, a little stronger, "okay. I can do this."

"I know you can," Wade said warmly, and he could easily image his baby boy's returned smile. "If it'll make you feel better, you can put my hoodie on until you get back to me and I'll get to strip you out of it."

"Thank you, Wade," his baby boy breathed out on a sigh.

"Anytime, sweetheart," Wade replied. "And don't forget what I said about power dynamics: I give the orders but which one of us has all the power?"

"I do," Petey answered quietly.

"That's my good boy. Now," Wade said with a note of finality, "I want you to come back to me, and while you do, I want you to think about that, and walk like you own it, yeah?"

Petey breathed out another deep exhale. "Yeah."

"Good, then I'll be waiting." Wade started to pull the phone from his ear and then there was a hurried "Wait!" from the other end of the line and he brought it back. "I'm here."

"What did you want me to do with this ribbon?"

"Ribbon?" Wade echoed, frowning, even as he reached for his little duffle and made a quick check of all the pockets.

"Yeah, it's a long red ribbon? It was in the bag you gave me. Um… I think it's the one from uh- uh- under the Christmas tree. The one that I tied in a bow around my-" he coughed and Wade could imagine the blush over his cheeks as he did so "-my you-know. Did you want me to do that again?"

"I do know," Wade purred. "I know very well." He could almost hear Petey's blush getting darker. "And no, don't put that on. That was supposed to stay with me so I could put it on you, so keep it out of the bag with your other clothes."

"Okay. I guess I'll see you in a minute." Petey's voice was still a bit wobbly, but it was stronger than at the beginning of the call and Wade knew he'd probably pace in the changing room for a minute before walking out.

"Missing you already," Wade said and then ended the call to prevent further dallying with a snap of the clamshell. He quickly tucked it away before turning around, but the dungeon master who he'd roped into helping keep the paparazzi away was giving him a knowing look edging into a glare. Wade gave him a bright grin and shoved his hands in his pockets as he turned to watch for his baby boy's return.

It took about three minutes - time which Wade was sure Petey was using to dawdle - before Wade saw Petey's fluffy hair working its way towards him through the busy center space. For about fifteen seconds, Wade only caught glimpses of the pale flash of bare legs or the black of his borrowed hoodie or the brown of those gorgeous eyes, and then Petey slipped around someone and Wade could see his glory in full.

He'd donned the sweater per Wade's allowance, but he'd left the hood down, to Wade's throbbing pride and arousal, which meant that everyone from the changing rooms to here had been able to glance at Petey's face and the dark blush staining his cheeks. Even better, he was practically naked from the waist down, clad only in what Wade had put in the bag: a lacy little pair of men's lingerie boy shorts which looked honestly perfect against his firm thighs. Wade's fingers itched to touch, more-so the closer his baby boy got. For some reason, even though he'd seen all of Petey, had studied all of Petey, a hundred thousand times, the site of those small bare feet against the matte black of the club's floor made lust pound a rabbit beat through Wade's suddenly-hard cock.

"Hey baby boy," Wade murmured softly, darkly, as his baby boy approached. He very carefully did not move, just waited for Petey to come to a stop in front of him, before reaching out and pulling that smaller body against his. His sweetie gasped in surprise, eyes going wide, as he arched into Wade's jean-bound erection. "I could just eat you up."

Wade ducked down for a kiss that oscillated between quick & hungry and forced & slow, a distraction as he found the hem of the hoodie his baby boy was wearing and started pulling it up. When he broke the kiss to pull the fabric up over Petey's head, there was a brief moment where he got to see his sweetie looking dazed from both his kisses and from surprise before Petey blushed and then moved to cover his chest, bringing a flash of red on the back of Petey's hand to his attention. Before Petey could fully cross his arms in place, Wade snagged his wrists and held both of Petey's hand up to face level. Around one hand was wrapped the red ribbon.

"Ah, there it is," Wade said happily, releasing the other wrist to uncurl the strip from Petey's fist. The arm he released went around Petey's stomach, and Wade tsked disapprovingly. "None of that Petey. I want to see all of you. Don't hide from me."

"It's not you I'm hiding from," Petey whispered, dropping both arms to clenching and unclenching fists at his sides. "It's-"

"It is me," Wade corrected firmly as he tilted Petey's chin up to get access to his neck. "Tonight, there's no one else here," he said quietly as he wrapped the ribbon around Petey's neck and started to tie a fancy little bow. “Just you and me, borrowing a public space because it has the equipment we need. It's got the ceiling grid so I can suspend you, and it's got the video camera so I can record you now and show you later what you look like to me when I play with you like this."

"Video camera?" Petey repeated worriedly, jerking back a little from Wade in surprise and nearly ruining the bow.

"Eh-eh! No moving," Wade reprimanded in his Dom voice and Petey swayed back to him, looking shame-faced. Wade hummed in satisfaction and returned his attention to his work.

"Yes, a video camera. Usually they're forbidden in these kinds of clubs, for obvious reasons, but this club is running a special event, which is what I was waiting for just so I could do this, that's allowing people to tape their scenes and let voyeurs do pictures and videos and all that shit too. And before you panic-" Wade hurried to say as fear flashed over Petey's face "-we're only going to let us record ourselves. There's a DM standing by to let people know they can watch but they can't do anything else."

Petey let out a relieved sigh but didn't move, even when Wade finished and dropped his hands, leaning back to examine his handwork.

"Alrighty, you can move now," Wade said with a short nod. And then something came to mind. "Actually, I want you to move over here for a sec'," he said, grabbing Petey firmly by the shoulders so he could turn them in a circle and put Petey's back to the backdrop. He whipped his phone back out, hating the shitty camera for the first time ever, and held it up. "Smile, sweetie."

His baby boy's smile was nearly painful, but it was painfully cute too, his cheeks all red, his body bare except for Wade's temporary collar and the lacy little lingerie shorts. Wade snapped a picture, hating the quality but loving the content, and tucked his phone away again - he could make it his background photo later.

"So, is this a... collar?" Petey asked, his fingers fluttering up near the bow without touching.

"Of sorts," Wade replied, stepping forward and raising his hand to rub his thumb over the red line around his baby boy's neck. He'd have to get more ribbon if Petey let them play again, test out which colour looked best around Petey's throat. "It's to mark that you're mine, and willingly, while we're here at the club. If you like what we do today, and you want to try more, make this a regular thing, then we can talk about getting you an actual collar."

For a moment, Petey was silent, his eyes narrowed in thought as his slim fingers picked at the edges of the pocket on Wade's hoodie. "A collar is important, right?" he asked slowly, carefully. "Like… kind of like a BDSM wedding ring?"

Wade hadn't really thought about it yet, not when everything between them was so slow to come together, but the sudden thought of putting not just a collar, but an actual wedding ring on his sweetheart made his heart hammer against his ribs and made his jeans painfully tight. He barely kept from groaning out loud, but he swallowed the sound back down - he could think about it more after Petey said the three magic words whenever he could say them.

"You could say that," Wade agreed, setting his hands on Petey's waist. "But only sometimes. Most people start out with play collars that are pretty basic, something that subs can use across multiple Doms, or that a Dom can use across multiple subs. It's mostly there for aesthetic and scene-related purposes, just like people wear rings without it meaning anything. But there is Being Collared, which is more special and yeah, could be equated to a BDSM wedding ring. So, if you like what we do, we can look into getting a play collar, and if you really like what we do," Wade drawled, pulling his baby boy in tight against his body, "then we'll look at getting you a permanent collar."

Peter reached up to brush the tips of his fingers against the same part of the ribbon Wade had run his thumb across, expression contemplative, and then his hands sorta spasmed on the way back down, apparently unsure of where to land before ultimately settling on Wade's biceps. They could almost be dancing and actually that was a novel idea Wade should most definitely take Petey out dancing some time. "I guess we should get started then? If we want see how I like it?" Petey suggested shyly.

"Whenever you're ready," Wade replied, walking Petey backwards until he was centered under the metal grid attached to the ceiling and facing the rest of the room. Still, once he had his baby boy positioned, he didn't move to get started until Petey took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'm ready," he said.

"Good boy," Wade praised as he slowly stepped away, backing up to the video camera to pop in the tape, make sure his baby boy was center frame, and hit record. "Just so you know," he said, picking up the first bundle of rope and picking apart the knot that held it together, "normally I wouldn't tolerate anyone else seeing that look on your face, that pretty dazed look you get when you fall into subspace, but I have to share today if I want the camera to see it all too. But next time we do this, I'm not going to let anyone see that face of yours, sweetheart."

"Oh," Petey breathed. His mouth was already slack, his breathing deep and steady, and his pupils blown wide; Wade hadn't even touched him yet and he was already sinking into his role. That was a good sign. A really good sign.

"Oh yes," Wade whispered back with a gentle smile. He leaned down to take one last kiss and got stuck there for a minute, magnetized by the softness of Petey's lips and the sluggish tongue against his own. When he finally dragged himself back, his baby boy swayed after him and Wade pressed the tips of his fingers to Petey's neck and the pad of his thumb to Petey's lips, both to cease him and to guide him back into place. "Time to stay still now, sweetheart.."

"Okay," Petey said quietly as he settled into play.

"Good boy."

The rope caught on Wade's scars as it slid through his hand, but he barely noticed as he set it to Petey's skin. His heart was unreasonably quick in his chest, for all that he was the one doing the tying up. But at the same time, he'd been dreaming about this moment for weeks, and he almost couldn't believe it was here. And yet, the rope in his hands was one of the many specially-dyed ones he'd ordered just for this, a rotating gradient of red and black; and the skin under his hands, and under his rope, was warm and solid and unquestionably his baby boy's.

He paused for a minute at Petey's back, holding the slightly unstable pattern to Petey's chest with both palms flat and stuck his nose in that wild hair he loved so much. It was his turn to need grounding for a moment, and he tried to make it quick. Still, it was a little hard to calm down quickly when your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Under him, Petey hummed, a sound half comforting, half questioning.

When his heart was calm again, when Wade was no longer overwhelmed by his happiness, by his pride, by his possessiveness, he stepped back again, letting his hands linger along the lines he'd already laid. And then he had to fix them because he'd messed them up by giving the lead too much slack, and sure, kinbaku didn't have to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. For Petey.

Since he refused to make his baby boy move, Wade was the one who ended up moving in circles around Petey as he worked his rope, and when he went around front, he found his baby boy frowning. It took a moment for his eyes to fixate on Wade, but when they did, still a little glazed, he made the same questioning sound he'd made minute ago when Wade had been draped across his back.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Wade murmured, brushing his thumb over that frown so it disappeared with the movement. "You just make me really really happy is all. You're still doing perfect." Petey gave a short hum and blinked slowly as a small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "That's my good boy," Wade praised with a gentle pat to Petey's cheek before he dove back into his work.

Luckily, the spider web was mostly front-facing work. Or at least the one Wade was tying was. It meant that he could stand directly in front of Petey and block him from the viewers drifting by. It also meant that Wade could watch him sink deeper into subspace, that he could watch the way his baby boy trembled and let out a soft gasp every time Wade intentionally dragged his fingers along his baby boy's bare skin. And since the web was a lot of almost-tedious looping over and over again, it meant that Wade got to see it a lot. And every time he saw it, his cock, nearly forgotten about in his singular focus, pulsed a heavy beat, reminding him that he was excruciatingly hard and waiting to sink into his sweetie's tight, soft heat.

Eventually, all good things had to come to an end, and Wade quickly reached the end of the rope. He decided against elongating it and enlarging the web further, and instead tucked the ends away before stepping back. Petey wavered just a little as Wade put distance between them, but Wade hushed him quietly and Petey straightened fully again. From his new vantage point, Wade took a long look at his tied up sweetie, eyes tracing the familiar pattern in unfamiliar colours on an unfamiliar background. After all, how often was Wade going to get to see his Spidey in Deadpool's colours?

Despite the video camera still rolling somewhere behind him to his right, Wade pulled out his phone again to snap another picture before he stepped forward again.

"How do you feel, baby boy?" Wade asked softly, placing both hands on Petey's hips.

Petey blinked slowly and then made a soft sound in the back of his throat. Wade smiled.

"I know you may not want to use your words right now, but I need you to when we play like this," Wade reprimanded gently, just enough Dom in his voice to make Petey blink again, a bit faster this time. His eyes tried to focus too, though it took a long time for them to shift in fits and starts from Wade's chest to his face. Once they made it to his eyes, Wade tried again. "How do you feel, baby boy?"

"Good." It came out practically slurred, and Wade's grin widened. "Calm. Safe."

"That's good, sweetheart," Wade praised, stroking his thumbs across the skin left exposed between lines of his rope. "That's real good. Do you think you can take more?"

"...More?" Petey echoed, more awareness coming into his gaze as his forehead crinkled. As much as Wade would like to keep him in subspace until they were done, realistically it was better that Petey was a little more aware for this question.

"Mhm," Wade hummed. He let his hands fall away so he could circle Petey to stand at his back and grip his arms above his elbows, firmly, pulling them closer together. Petey's head and ass pushed back towards Wade even as his spine arched away with a barely audible gasp, and Wade pulled his baby boy a little closer to him so he could reach his ear. "I want to tie your arms behind your back just like this so you can't move them on accident, and then I'm going to tie you to that grid above us and bind your legs to themselves so I can fuck you. You wanna give it a go?"

Petey inhaled sharply through his nose and then breathed out a "Please, Wade."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," Wade promised; honestly it was practically a mantra at this point. "And if it gets too much, for any reason, you remember what to say to get me to hit the pause button, right baby boy?"

There was a long moment of silence, of frowny silence, before Petey answered. "Pancakes."

Wade beamed. "That's my perfect baby boy." The smile Wade got in return was small and slow, but it was undoubtedly pleased.

Wade left his baby boy standing there for a quick second, only as long as it took to dart over to the little side table for the next bundle of rope before he was at Petey's back again, smoothing his palms down the bare lines of Petey's arms. Not that they would be for long. Wade took the opportunity to hug his sweetie for a moment, sliding one hand over the center of his web at Petey's sternum, using it to pull his baby boy's back tight to his chest, and the other Wade slid across the black lace tenting away from Petey's pelvis from his half-chub to pull his ass into Wade's full-chub.

He was in no way offended that his baby boy wasn't fully hard - he'd already seen the effects of Petey falling into subspace because of Wade's directions during their date in the movie theater. Petey had been half-hard then too, sucking on Wade's cock, and hadn't gotten fully hard until Wade had told him he wanted his baby boy to get off too. Wade had expected the same from Petey now, and he didn't anticipate Petey getting fully hard until Wade was inside him. Whiiich would never happen if Wade didn't get him in the air.

The spider web had been a little tedious, all that repetitive looping, and yeah, most kinbaku kinda ended up that way, but there were definitely erotic ties as well as bland ones. The dragonfly tie, well, with how Wade was gonna do it, it was going to be more on the erotic side, if only because of how Petey would react to it.

When Wade slipped the first pair of loops around Petey's hands and pushed them up his arms, he circled Petey's wrists with his hands and pushed the rope up slowly. Up, up up Petey's arms trembling in his grasp and over the front of his shoulders. When he tightened the first knot, pulling Petey's shoulders back and putting an arc to his spine, there was a full-body shudder under his hands and a breathy moan. Unable to resist the curve of that sinuous spine, Wade bent to press a kiss to the base of Petey's neck, and then bent a little lower to press a kiss to the skin blow the knot, and Petey shuddered again.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Wade's attention when he straightened, and he found that people had started to gather at the edges of their invisible little bubble. There were a few smirks, a few stone-faces, but there were a few staring with open adoration, even envy. The smirking punks were probably the kind of Doms that Wade would kill to keep away from his baby boy, the stone-faces were probably other ropers, but the ones staring with adoration and envy? Those were the Doms and subs that wished they could either have a sub like Petey, or wished they could experience a scene as beautifully and completely as Petey was right now. Respectively. Fuck, Wade was so fucking lucky.

With the second loop, Wade only pushed it up to right above Petey's biceps with the tips of his fingers, making it slow and dragging until Petey was shivering. The tightening of the second knot brought a slight increase to the curve of Petey's back and another kiss from Wade under the knot against Petey's spine. Then came the third loop, under Petey's biceps, brought up alongside the steady scrape of Wade's fingernails, ended with another kiss. Fourth, just above the elbows, a kiss. Fifth, upper forearms and sixth, lower forearms, kiss kiss. With each loop Wade put in place to bind his baby boy's arms together, it felt like he was binding his Petey to him, tighter and tighter, until they were so close that there was no one without the other.

The wrists were the last, and they should have been the quickest, but Wade finally gave into his desire to touch, to feel, and sank to his knees behind his baby boy. He kept his thighs spread wide to keep Petey's feet between his legs, and wrapped his fingers slowly around Petey's ankles, manacles around the thin bones. It was a strange place to love, perhaps, but besides loving all of Petey, Wade especially loved every part of Petey that he could wrap around entirely. Above him, Petey made a broken sound and wavered, just a little, but ultimately remained upright, and only when Wade was sure that he would stay that way did he start to slide his hands up.

It was tempting, to slide his fingers to the inside of Petey's legs, but Wade kept his paws to the outside, gliding from ankle to calf to knee to thigh. And when he got to the square edge of the pretty black lace boy shorts, he ignored the temptation to dip his fingers in there too. He had to lighten the press of his palms over the lace to keep the delicate material from snagging on his rough skin, but he resumed pressure at Petey's waist and continued his slide up his ribs, which made his baby boy shudder, and up to his shoulders where Wade could feel the first pair of loops that started the tie. Without letting up, he smoothed his palms around the curve of his baby boy's shoulders and slid his hands back down his arms, squeezing along the line of rope from each loop.

When at last Wade reached Petey's still-bare wrists, he paused, and then slowly began to tighten his grip. Wade wasn't super-powered but he could still break his Spidey's bones, although it would take a lot more more pressure and a better angle. And a will, which Wade lacked completely. The only way he wanted to hurt his sweetheart was in the BDSM way, the one that led to mutual orgasms. Still, he knew how much Petey loved when Wade held him down so he maintained the increasing pressure on Petey's wrists until Petey shuddered and moaned, his knees buckling as he started to bend in half, only stopped by Wade's tug on his wrists to pull him back in place.

He let go after that with a grin, pleased by Petey's pliancy, and finished up the last loop, pulling it snug around Petey's wrists and tying his knot before tucking away the ends of the rope. This time, however, instead of a kiss, he buried his nose in Petey's lace-covered crack and found the edge of his plug with his teeth. He tugged slowly at it, careful not to pull too hard, careful not to rip the lace, and Petey let out a groan, a whining plea that only increased in pitch when Wade let go and stood.

"Sh sh sh," Wade whispered into Petey's ear as he rubbed Petey's arms over the rope. He carefully tested each strand with two of his fingers, making sure the bind wasn't tight enough to injure, but still secure enough to leave his baby boy with marks when they were done. To leave him with Wade marks, impermanent evidence of what they did, of what Petey let Wade do to him. "Still feeling calm and safe?" he asked gently.

"Nnngh," Petey replied intelligently and Wade smiled. He kept stroking Petey's arms as he waited for his baby boy's brain to catch up, to remember Wade's previous instructions. His genius little spider was always fantastic at following Wade's rules and directions, but when he was so gorgeously out of it like this that it took a minute. "Yes, Wade," he finally managed, his words still slurred.

"Good," Wade replied before stepping back to snap another shot with his shitty phone of Petey's arms bound all tight and pretty. He was going to end up with so many pictures by the time the night was done.

With two bundles of rope in hand this time, Wade knelt in front of Petey for the next tie, putting his back to the still-growing crowd behind them, their silence forming a wall that filtered out the sounds from the rest of the club. It made the non-existent hair on the back of Wade's neck stand on end, to position himself like that, since he was the first, last, and only line of defense for his currently-defenseless-sweetie, but a BDSM club was, perhaps ironically, one of the safest kinds of clubs on the planet and realistically, he didn't have anything to worry about when it came to his sub-sweetie's safety.

Petey, always so sensitive to the rough texture of Wade's skin, shivered every time Wade's thumb or the heel of his hand brushed the line of skin right above his panties as Wade looped the first rope thrice around Petey's waist. It wasn't until Wade brought the line down the outside of his baby boy's left leg and started looping the strands halfway between knee and hip, until he started breathing hotly on the slowly-hardening, lace-covered cock and tracing the tips of his fingers up the inside of a milky thigh, that Petey started to shiver in earnest. Every shudder sent a bolt of heat down Wade's spine and into his cock to see how his baby boy was so responsive for him.

When Wade kept circling the rope down Petey's leg for some built-in laddering, Petey's shivering subsided and his breaths calmed the further Wade got from his thighs, and the further Wade had to slouch, taking the heat of his mouth from Petey's cock. But when Wade tied the rope off at his baby boy's ankle and brought out his second bundle to begin a mirrored version of his rope work down Petey's right hip and leg, Petey's breath hitched at the first brush of Wade's hand against his belly. By the time Wade had finished and tied off the band around his right ankle, Petey was shaking like he'd been stuck in a freezer for an hour, and the head of his pretty little cock was peeking out from the behind its lacy cover.

Wade licked his lips and considered throwing all his plans out in favour of sucking that gorgeous prick down his throat, but he couldn't change things up now, not when he'd come so far in his rope-y design and especially not when he'd laid out the plan for his sweetie and it would be cruel to change it now. ...Not that he exactly laid out every particular of the plan. He'd get his mouth on that cock soon enough. For now, he just leaned forward as he moved to stand and pressed a swift, soft kiss to the damp head on his way to his feet.

His sweet baby boy whined quietly, leaning forward into Wade's space, and Wade straightened him again with a gentle pat to both shoulders. "We're almost to the dessert, baby boy" he whispered. "So be a good boy for me and stay still while I string you up."

Out came the phone again and Wade was in the middle of taking another few shitty shots (from multiple angeles) with his shitty phone when he heard the quiet, "Yes, Wade," that made him grin as his phone went back in his pocket. God, he loved Petey so much. He was so good and so fucking perfect and so fucking Wade's.

Armed with three ropes stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie and a fourth in hand, Wade got to stringing Petey up to the grid. The first rope got threaded through the anchor point Wade had built into the back of the spider web, up and over the bars of the grid in a wide V to keep the ropes out of Petey's face, and then down through the anchor at the center of the web against his baby boy's chest, and then he did it all again in reverse. He left the tail end of the rope hanging loose and Petey standing on his own two feet as he strung a second rope through the gunslinger at Petey's hips. Only when he had all four loose ends in his hands did Wade pull, and his baby boy slowly rose off the ground until his ass was hip-high, just high enough to fuck and just short of too high too suck, and Wade tied the lines off.

As much as Wade wanted to step back and survey, they were so close to the finish line that he couldn't find it in himself to stop now. His body was thrumming with anticipation, the distraction of his hard-on renewed now that he was so close to what he'd been waiting for for weeks. Finishing off the ties would be like finishing himself off but without all that bodily satisfaction. Baby boy already looked finished off himself, his eyes half lidded and his mouth slack, and Wade, with all his Petey experience would have said that his sweetie was fucked out… if it weren't for that hard cock barely being held back by black lace.

The last two bundles in Wade's pocket went to a leg each, and so close to the finish line, and with Petey looking so delicious, Wade didn't bother putting any seduction into the ties. With deft fingers, he bound Petey's calves to his thighs with a bundle each, and then the ends went up and over the grid at wide angles, angled away from Petey, so that his baby boy's legs were held wide open. So that there was no way for Petey to keep any of their gathered watchers from being able to stare right between his legs, so there was no way to clamp his legs down on any touches between his legs, not without trying super hard.

At last, the prep work was done.

Wade took a deep breath and then took his time circling his baby boy, kneeling for him in the air. He took pictures from every angle, both documenting and examining his handiwork, and tested the tension of each bind and suspension. Wade ended up doing two rounds before he grinned in satisfaction and came to a stop between Petey's spread thighs. He didn't seem to realize Wade was there, not until Wade ran his hands through that bird's nest hair before cupping both cheeks. Only then did his eyes start focusing, blinking, moving to meet Wade's gaze.

"How's my perfect boy doing?" Wade murmured, keeping his voice low. The others could watch, but that didn't mean they could listen. "Still feeling calm, still feeling safe? No flashbacks or anything nasty?"

Bleary brown eyes met his and Wade smiled encouragingly.

"Mmm'good," Petey murmured back, his lips barely moving. "Sstillgood. Stillyours," he slurred. God he was fucking adorable.

"That's what I like to hear," Wade said, voice still soft. "You ready for your treat for being so good?"

"Yesss, Wade," Petey managed, though it was more air and vowels than consonants. Wade really hoped that Petey would still feel good with the scene when they're done and that he'll let Wade tie him up again.

"Good boy." Wade pressed a swift kiss to his baby boy's soft mouth, so swift that Petey's lips were still trying to purse to kiss him back when Wade was already pulling back. Petey whined a little, an annoyed breath huffing out his nose, but the corners of his lips were upturned even as Wade stepped out from between his legs.

There was a quick detour to the table so that Wade could put the toy in his hoodie pocket for use in what was probably going to be a very soon 'soon', and then he was standing behind his baby boy again. Slowly, Wade pushed the waistband of Petey's panties down his ass until he could see the base of the familiar plug and he tucked the top of the lace gently under the ropes around Petey's thighs to discourage the fabric from moving back into place. Carefully, mindful of the way his baby boy was tilted forward, Wade peeked over Petey's shoulder as he began to pull on his baby boy's plug.

From his vantage point, he could see the pretty head of Petey's dick twitch against its lace with every gentle tug. And with each pull, Petey whimpered, soft little sounds that made Wade want to stuff a ball gag in his mouth to see what he'd sound like when he thought all his little noises were being contained. The sound he made when Wade didn't release the silicone back into his baby boy's body, when he pulled and didn't stop pulling, was a whimper extended into a whine, long and low and quiet. It didn't fade away until Wade pulled back to watch the rounded tip slide free, and even then, he just started whimpering again, shifting in his binds, his hands reaching backwards as if he could reach Wade's sweater and pull him in, pull him inside.

"Patience, sweetheart," Wade murmured. "I'll fill you up as soon as I lube up, promise." Petey settled with a soft, quiet whine, his fingers curling into his palms and the tension in his bound limbs easing.

Wade pulled the lube out of his pocket and, hidden behind the distracting form of his gorgeous baby boy, pulled his cock out of jeans to slick it with lube. He could have taken his time, could have made Petey wait, but Petey had already been waiting so long and had been so patient, even with all of Wade's teasing. Besides, Wade had teased himself long enough too - had dangled the temptation of his sweetheart in front of himself all evening, from the time he'd gotten to Petey's apartment and hadn't indulged in foreplay, all the way to right here and now. No, he'd stalled for long enough. He wrapped a hand around the handles of rope running down Petey's thigh, and the head of his cock blindly found its home.

As always, Petey's body welcomed Wade into its burning embrace easily, his walls beckoning Wade inside faster, even as Wade forced a slow entrance. There was a long low noise to accompany it, a soundtrack straight from his baby boy's lips. It was a victory toll, a minor achievement, but one of Wade's this time, not Petey's, because if Petey had been fully conscious of himself and their surroundings, he would have fought himself to keep that sound from slipping free. It was a mark of how far he'd fallen into 'space, of how much he trusted Wade to care for him when he was vulnerable and in public. With his own deep groan, Wade bottomed out and fell still, his fingers wrapped in the rope along his baby boy's thighs helping him keep Petey's ass flushed to his pelvis. Petey's moan wobbled into silence.

Wade leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of his sweetheart's neck, and even as Petey's walls rippled distractingly around his cock, even as his skin prickled with goosebumps of pleasure under his hoodie and jeans, Wade's eyes flicked over the silent crowd watching them with rapt attention. Most were staring with wide eyes and parted mouths, attention fixated not on Wade behind Petey, or the wide V of Petey's spread thighs, but Petey's face itself. It made Wade's skin burn and his blood boil covetously, the fire of his possessiveness raging through him at these strangers, these not-hims, getting to see Wade's sweetheart at his most open and his most vulnerable. And yet, the fire of his pride blended seamlessly with his rage, roaring in smug delight at being able to show off such a treasure that no one else would be ever be allowed to touch. As much as he didn't want to share his Petey when he was this way, Wade was well and indeed an exhibitionist, even if it was only because it meant he got to show off the gorgeous person that had picked Wade as his own.

If Wade had been a beast, he would have purred in satisfaction, but since he wasn't, at least not biologically, he hummed as he kissed around the back of Petey's neck to the side of it. Even as out of it as he was, or perhaps because of it, Petey tilted his head, encouraging the press of Wade's lips, inviting his teeth. He let himself nip the tempting curve of flesh and muscle only once before he pulled away and pushed Petey's body away from him at the same time, pushing his baby boy off the length of his cock until only the head was inside. Wade held him there for a moment, long enough for Petey to whine for it, before pulling Petey back onto it, the tight heat welcoming him even faster than before.

Again and again, Wade used the ropes to push and pull Petey off and on his cock without so much as moving a step himself, a pause between each motion that Petey never failed to fill with a pleading whine. The stretch and low burn in his arms was a counterpoint to the tension building in his balls, the incidental workout the only thing keeping him from coming immediately after what felt like hours of teasing. It felt like he'd been hard since well before he'd left his own apartment with his small duffle in hand, hiding the ropes his fingers were wrapped in right now, the ropes that his sweetheart was wrapped in right now. After all that, Wade could have come the second he pushed into his Petey, and it was only the lure of an extended stay in his baby boy's ass that kept him from being a minute man.

Still, he didn't want to make his stay too extended. The desire to come inside his sweetie was a driving force, a driving need in the forefront of his mind, a hunger ripping through his chest. Besides, he wanted his baby boy to come too, and Petey wasn't going to be allowed to come until after Wade filled him up. For once.

Wade pulled Petey back onto him slowly and when he didn't push him back out, when he paused again with Petey held tight to his pelvis and stuffed full of his cock, Petey whined, a soft sound that ceased when Wade leaned forward to kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear. "You ready for me to come, sweetheart?" he asked softly, and Petey clenched tight around him.

"Yes, Wade," Petey rasped, his voice wrecked like he'd been screaming.

"I don't want you to come, alright?"

This time Petey whimpered, a frantic, desperate sound, and there was a tug at the front of Wade's hoodie. "No, please, I've been so good-" Petey pleaded, his eyes squeezed shut. Still, Wade could just barely glimpse the wetness gathering at his lashes.

"Sh sh sh," Wade gentled, releasing one of the ropes at Petey's thigh to carefully slide his palm around to press against Petey's pelvis, just above his cock, just above where Petey probably wanted his touch the most. "You've been perfect for me, baby boy," he praised, stroking the skin of Petey's lower belly with the tips of his fingers. "Don't worry, Petey, you'll still get to come, just not yet." There was another sharp tug at the front of his hoodie, and another whimper, that made Wade smile. "Trust me, baby boy. You'll get to come. Promise."

"Okay," Petey gasped, sounding desperate in his agreement, like a sinking man ready to use anything as a life raft as long as it kept him from drowning. "Okay. I trust you, Wade."

"That's my perfect baby boy," Wade murmured, slowly dragging the hand over Petey's pelvis back to the rope at his thigh. "Now, hold on tight."

His hoodie tightened around him and he looked down to find slim fingers fisting right above his pocket. It only made Wade grin when he pushed Petey quickly forward and Petey's fingers slipped away. When Wade yanked him back onto his cock, he didn't give him enough time to grab onto him again, not for lack of Petey trying, just pushed immediately forward again, settling into a quick push and pull, a quick fuck to get him off, now. It wouldn't take long, not when he was this hyped up, his cock throbbing and his balls high and tight, not when Petey was making a wounded sound every time Wade bottomed out.

The only downside of this whole thing, of stringing up his Petey, was being unable to touch and being unable to kiss and bite. His mouth nearly watered from the desire but he held it back since he'd be able to get something in his mouth soon enough. Sooner, judging by the coiling tension at the base of his spine. Actually, any second now. In fact-

A low hum rumbled through Wade's chest as his orgasm began to wash over him, and he dragged Petey back in tight. He pushed a second later, but barely, before pulling him back in again, and then back out, little jerks to work Petey's body on his cock, using his baby boy like he was nothing more than a sleeve for Wade's cock, for Wade to get off with it. Despite being far from accurate, and from being far from what Wade wanted out of his sweetheart, the thought still made Wade groan and his orgasm pulse a second wave through his system. This time, he just pulled Petey in tight and kept him there, resting his chin on Petey's shoulder to press their cheeks together as Petey's walls quivered around Wade, pulling the last of his come from him.

"Were you a good boy for me?" Wade murmured and Petey shivered, clenching tight around his softening cock. If he kept that up, then Wade was gonna get hard again in no time and he'd be tempted to fuck his sweetie again, but even with Petey's superior healing, it wasn't safe for him to stay in the ropes for an extended period of time.

"Ye-yes, Wade," Petey panted, out of breath like it had been his own orgasm he'd just weathered. "I was good. I was good for you, please-"

"Mm, that's my baby boy," Wade whispered, cutting Petey off with a kiss to his cheek. "You were so good for me. Now, be good for just a little longer."

Petey whimpered, but when Wade actually pulled out, he gave an aborted sob, cut off before its completion when Wade pushed the toy he'd pulled out of his pocket into Petey's empty hole before he could start leaking, before he could start truly missing the filling absence of Wade's thick cock. The toy curved into his baby boy, one end resting against his prostate, but the base curved too, nestled against the back of Petey's balls to stimulate him from the outside.

His sweetie made a confused sound as Wade pulled the lace of his panties back up, over his ass and over the toy to keep it in place. Wade mostly ignored it as he slowly let Petey go to hang freely and tucked his own cock back in his jeans and out of sight before walking around to stand between Petey's spread legs. The feeling of the silent crowd at his back still was not a comfortable one, but Wade ignored them in favour of sweetheart. His cock, already hard again, pressed tight to his zipper, throbbed with need at the sight of those pretty brown eyes tinged red and lashes wet, faint tear tracks down Petey's cheeks, past his pink mouth bitten raw and swollen.

"Kiss me," Wade whispered, leaning in close. Petey whimpered even as he titled his chin up and stretched forward to meet Wade, his eyes falling closed even as Wade's stayed open.

The kiss was clumsy at best, Petey seemingly unable to master the use of his tongue as it slid weakly against Wade's. Wade pulled away too soon for his own liking, but he had other plans to follow through with still. Petey followed his departing mouth like he was hypnotized by it, letting out a soft sound when Wade didn't bring his lips back. So Wade obliged his baby boy. In a way.

The ground was hard under his knees since Wade had apparently planned and remembered every last detail except a fucking pillow, but it was an easily ignorable irritation when faced with the lace-covered cock at the perfect height in front of his face. Staring up at his baby boy's face to watch his reaction, Wade quickly pulled the lace down and sucked that pretty cock right down his throat. He was pleased to watch Petey's head drop down and his eyes snap wide open as he sucked in a ragged inhale. Wade just grinned up at Petey with his lips wrapped around the base of Petey's cock, and Petey just stared blankly down at him. Until Wade put his hand in his jean pocket and pressed the ON button on the vibrator's remote.

Petey went rigid in his ropes, everywhere except for his cock, wrapped in Wade's throat and throbbing insistently. Those gorgeous, glistening brown eyes glazed over and that tempting pink mouth went slack again. Wade swallowed and Petey convulsed, his body swinging gently with the motion, his legs twitching as if he were trying to find a way to fuck into Wade's mouth from within his bindings. But since Wade had taken that ability from him, he took it upon himself to pull back with his lips wrapped tight around Petey's shaft until he got to the head, and then sucked Petey back in, making his sweetie convulse again.

As he worked Petey's cock, Wade didn't take his eyes off his baby boy's face, enraptured by the sight of Petey finally breaking down to his foundations. Tears dripped from his baby boy's face onto Wade's, and though those soft pink lips were still moving, there was no sound. It wasn't until that point that Petey stopped struggling too; it wasn't until then that he finally fell still and let Wade touch him at Wade's discretion. Only then did Wade slowly pull off Petey's red, throbbing cock and turn down the vibrator, but didn't turn it off.

"What do you say, baby boy?" Wade murmured, voice deepened by the assault on his throat. Petey blinked long and slow before his lips took on a more intentional shape, but even Wade couldn't hear him. "You gotta speak up, sweetheart," he said, turning his head first one way and then the other to press a kiss to the space of bare skin on the inside of each of Petey's exposed thighs.

"Please, Wade," Petey managed to whisper, so quiet that Wade almost missed this entreaty too, so slurred that he almost couldn't make out the words. "Please let me come."

"'Course, Petey," Wade said with with a smile and a kiss to the skin under Petey's belly button. "Whenever you want."

Petey's eyes finally fell closed and the last bit of tension in his limbs dissolved as Wade gently took him in his mouth again. He didn't bother with the teasing hard sucks this time, just swallowed around his baby boy until a moan trembled out between Petey's lips and the cock in his throat pulsed with release. Wade waited for the thighs on either side of his head to begin trembling before he eased the dial on the vibrator down to zero and pulled off Petey's cock even slower.

Before he stood, Wade pulled the lace back up over Petey's softening cock and reached behind him to swap the double-ended prostate massager for his sweetie's normal plug, stuffing the new toy in his hoodie pocket - he'd have to remember to wash both the toy and his hoodie later.

When Wade finally got to his feet again, it was even easier to see how lax Petey was in his ropes, which would make getting him out of them slightly more difficult than it had been to get him in them. "You still with me, baby boy?" Wade whispered, cupping Petey's face in both hands.

Petey hummed and smiled and leaned into Wade's touch, his face devoid of all the tension he'd worn into the fetish club.

"Words, Petey," Wade reminded him lightly, careful not to be too harsh, careful not to drag his baby boy from a well-deserved retreat into subspace.

Petey's throat worked furiously for a long moment before his lips parted and he managed to give Wade what he was looking for. "Yes, Wade."

"Good boy," Wade praised. "You were fucking perfect for me, Petey. I'm so proud." The soft smile on Petey's face brightened in an adorably sleepy way, the kind that made his heart beat faster and made his chest glow with the warmth of his affection. "I'mma get you out of my ropes and then we can go relax for a bit, alright?"

"Yes, Wade," Petey said, his voice marginally stronger. He was emerging from subspace but he'd been so deep that it was slow going, which was fantastic. Even if it made unstringing him a bit harder.


Petey had been up for so long, or his orgasm had just been that strong, that his knees buckled when Wade let his legs down. To keep him upright without collapsing, to let him get used to having his feet on the ground again, Wade re-tied the rope looped through the spider web, just enough to let Petey stand upright and to keep him from collapsing. After that, the unwrapping of both leg ladders and gunslinger harness went quickly as Wade unwound the ropes from Petey's pliant legs, unable and unwilling to stop himself from fingering the coiled marks at the middle of his baby boy's muscled thighs. He did the same to Petey's arms when he undid the dragonfly bind, his fingers moving up wrists, forearms, and biceps to his sweetie's shoulders, massaging the joints as he brought Petey's arms back around to the front again.

"You think you can stand now, baby boy?" Wade asked softly as he untied the last suspension rope but kept it taut.

"Can I lean on you?" Petey sounded more conscious now, but tired, and Wade rubbed his thumbs along the smooth curve of his shoulders.

"'Course you can, sweetheart."

There was a sigh of relief from Petey as Wade stepped in closer and carefully loosened the suspension rope held tightly in his hand. The more it loosened, the heavier Petey's weight became until the rope was curled around Wade's fist and Wade's sweetheart was nearly curled up against his chest. It made getting the spider web off of Petey a lot harder, but with a lot of hand wriggling between his chest and Petey's back, Wade got the last rope off his sweetheart.

The ribbon collar stayed.

"Alright, time to stand up for a minute so I can pack up and then we can go sit down," Wade said with a sweep of his hands down Petey's arms.

"Ugh," Petey grunted, but he eventually stood up on his own steam, wrapping his arms around himself as Wade stepped away.

The ropes went into Wade's small duffle in a haphazard and twisted mess to be recoiled later and the toy got wrapped up in Petey's boxers and stuffed in after the ropes. The hoodie Petey had worn to the club went over Petey's head, trapping his arms in the body of it, and his baby boy must have been really worn out because he just made another soft "Ugh" and didn't bother trying to thread his arms through the sleeves as Wade patted the top of his fluffy head and circled around him to the tape recorder. The counter was already well over an hour when Wade hit STOP and EJECT and threw the tape in the bag with everything else.

"Ready to go sit?" Wade asked when he finally stopped in front of Petey again.

"Ugh," Petey said for a third time and Wade grinned. The chance of Petey leaving the club conscious was looking less likely by the minute; Wade was probably going to have to carry him home again which was, honestly, the complete opposite of a problem for him. "Can't you just carry me?"

"As my master commands," Wade said with a short bow. Petey snorted but he was smiling too, the exhaustion on his face easing. "Hold this." He had to hold the duffle bag against Petey's chest for a minute before his sweetie gave an adorable put-upon sigh and finally pushed his hands through both sleeves and cradled the duffle in both arms as Wade swung his baby boy up into his own. He looked fucking adorable, a pint-sized spidery-bear, ripe for cuddling, but the line of his bare legs stretching out from under Wade's hoodie made Wade want to cuddlefuck him, but he'd have to wait until they got home for that.

Most of the crowd that had watched their scene was still lingering nearby, and as Wade passed through them, they murmured quiet appreciations and praise for their scene. He acknowledged them with nods and grins, and Petey didn't acknowledge them at all, though the blush across his cheeks made it clear that he'd heard them.

To distract his sweetie as Wade crossed the playroom, its walls lined with other scenes in various stages, he asked, "So? Have the judges reached a verdict?"

Though he was still clearly and adorably embarrassed, or maybe just shy, or both - probably both - Petey managed to glance up and look Wade in the eye for a moment before he dropped his gaze to the bag resting in his lap, his fingers emerging from their long sleeves to play with the zippers. "I think… I think I liked it. It didn't feel- It didn't feel like I was worried it was going to. It felt like being with you always does, just… more intense. I was helpless but… safe."

"Happy to hear it, Petey," Wade said, crossing into the living room, aimed straight for the couch in the empty far corner. "You think it's something you wanna try again?" Even as he settled down, arranging Petey to his satisfaction in his lap, Wade held his breath, feeling like his heart was waiting to beat again. One good experience did not further experiences make, but Wade really really hoped so in this case. It had been more calming than regular sex with Petey, to manipulate his body to Wade's will, to do what he wanted with him, knowing that his baby boy trusted him enough to let him.

Petey picked at the edges of the bag for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. "I think so, yeah," he said quietly, and Wade nearly burst with delight. "Just- ack!" he cut off suddenly when Wade bear-hugged him. He opened his mouth but Wade was already there, kissing him until he was breathless. When Wade finally pulled back, Petey's lips were red from his mouth and his pupils were dilated, but he pushed on. "Can we do it at home next time?"

"We can do it wherever you fucking want, baby boy," Wade promised. "Brooklyn Bridge? You got it. Empire State Building? Bring your webs and no prob. "The MoMA-"

Petey slapped a hand over Wade's mouth but he was smiling, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Just home is fine."

Wade saluted him and Petey's grin widened as his hand fell away and he settled against Wade again. His fingers sought one of Wade's hands and held it between both of his own, and just like Wade had predicted, he passed out before Wade's heartbeat had even returned to resting rate again. And just like he'd predicted, his baby boy was so worn out that he didn't wake when Wade laid him out on the couch and got him back into his jeans and shoes under the amused looks of the other Dom/mes and subs relaxing around the room. He didn't wake up when Wade hailed a cab or when they got home, barely reacted when Wade stripped him and put him to bed, but when Wade slid in next to him, he curled up at Wade's side. And as creepy as it probably was, Wade couldn't help but stare at his baby boy's face in unquantifiable awe and devotion until he passed out.

The first 4.5 seconds of post-sleep general sleepy happiness vanished under the stretch of Wade's hand across the cold other side of the bed, and his disappointment at waking up alone after what had seemed like a really successful night drove him to following the faint sounds coming from the living room. Where his disappointment took its turn in vanishing when he realized that: 1) the TV was playing the tape of their scene, 2) Petey was kneeling hard and naked in front of said TV wearing nothing but his ribbon collar with his hands balled into fists against his thighs, and 3) he was rocking in place against the toy Wade had used in him the night before buzzing away inside him. As adorable as Petey's wide-eyed, embarrassed look was when it turned on Wade, it didn't save him from Wade bending him over right then and there and fucking him with the toy still inside him until his sweetie was sobbing and Wade was ready to go again.


Chapter Text

He had never minded being baby boy's dirty little secret before they'd actually started dating, and he minded even less now, now that he knew to his bones that one day, he would be standing in front of the people Petey loved most and being introduced as his boyfriend.

Peter's heart hadn't been beating right all afternoon. Which maybe might have something to do with the rope corset hidden under his shirt, or the remote controlled vibrating bullet that Wade had been activating sporadically and randomly since he'd pushed it into Peter with a devious grin, but the nervousness that had Peter's fingers drumming against his thighs and his palms sweating had nothing to do with being worried about being caught and everything to do with the fact that he was standing with Wade on Aunt May's porch. For the first time.

"It's gonna be fine, baby boy," Wade said, for some reason reassuring Peter when it probably should have been the other way around. "She's gonna love me." Despite the confident words, the hand that slid to the back of Peter's neck was almost the wrong side of too-tight, and there was a tightness to his smile that said it was forced.

"I know she's going to love you," Peter argued back, feeling unreasonably snappish on top of his anxiety. It was the same argument he'd planned on using on Wade when he'd first decided that it was past time to introduce the man that loved him to the woman that raised him. To his immense surprise, Wade had been so ecstatic that, after he'd shown Peter exactly how pleased he was, Peter hadn't had the energy to get out of bed for three hours. "I know she is," he said again. "I don't know why I'm so nervous."

They hadn't even knocked on the door yet. If Aunt May knew they were there, and she probably did with that sixth sense all parents seemed to have, then she was giving them their space. He started to bounce in place, trying to shake the jitters from his limbs, and he nearly dislodged Wade's hand from the back of his neck. Instead, Wade's fingers clamped down hard, hard enough to make Peter go still and drain the tension from his muscles.

Ever since their experiment at the fetish club almost three months ago, Wade had slowly introduced more and more things about that lifestyle to Peter, and despite Peter's lingering hesitance, he'd fallen into it fast and hard. He hadn't realized how stressed he still was, even with Wade at his side, until Wade started putting him down into subspace more frequently. It took a few tries to let go of the notion that letting Wade have his way with him meant that Peter was powerless or weak, but Wade had just patiently reminded him that even before they started scenening, Peter had always been the one in power, and all he had to do was say his safeword and Wade would stop. After that, it became easier to give himself over to Wade's hands, and for Wade to build little triggers in Peter that Wade could activate in public, something to remind Peter that he wasn't alone and that Wade was there to help him when he needed it.

Peter turned his head to press his forehead against Wade's chest and took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of Wade's hoodie. He was wearing another hoodie of Wade's, but the scent had faded. Even if it hadn't, it wasn't as comforting as the real thing. Slowly, under the press of his body, Wade seemed to relax too, like he needed Peter to fall to him as much as Peter needed it. Only when Peter's heart rate felt normal did Peter straighten and the hand at his neck loosened from a vice to a relaxed touch.

"Okay, I think I'm ready," he said, glancing up at Wade's face, slightly shrouded by the shadows from his hood but otherwise uncovered. "You ready?"

Wade studied Peter's face for a moment before he leaned in close, but stopped just short of kissing him. Without warning, the bullet activated again and Peter jumped in surprise. His gasp was swallowed by Wade's mouth and then Wade kept taking until Peter's knees felt weak. He felt disoriented when Wade pulled back and stared at Peter's face for another long moment before he grinned.

"Now I'm ready," he practically purred, and raised his hand to rap his knuckles against the door. Peter caught sight of his reflection, his messed hair and dark eyes and red face, and affected a scowl just as the door was flung open wide.

"Peter!" Aunt May exclaimed happily, bustling out onto the porch to wrap him in a tight hug which he returned with the kind of relief that he only felt when he was coming home. "I was starting to think you'd stand there all night," she said with a wink when she pulled back, smiling. He blushed and tried to stammer out an excuse but Aunt May was already turning towards Wade. "And who's this strapping young man?"

"Wade Wilson, ma'am," Wade said, voice cheerful but strained as he stuck out a gloved hand - he'd left the sunglasses and medical mask at home, but he apparently hadn't been able to keep himself from needing the gloves. Honestly Peter was just proud that Wade was able to leave the glasses and mask at home, that he was comfortable enough with Peter and with Peter's only remaining family to not feel the need to wear them.

Aunt May clasped Wade's hand in both of hers and smiled warmly up at him. "It is lovely you to meet you, Wade. I'm May Parker, but any friend of Peter's can call me Aunt May."

"Boyfriend!" Peter blurted out, and then felt his face heat up when his aunt turned a knowing smile towards him. "Wade is- Wade is my boyfriend, Aunt May."

"Well we can't let him stand out here in the cold then, can we?" Aunt May whispered conspiratorially, despite the fact that Wade could hear her and also despite the fact that they were already well into spring. "Come in, come in!"

Peter looked up at Wade to give him an encouraging smile and Wade smiled back, giving the back of Peter's neck a squeeze before his hand fell away as they followed Aunt May inside, leaving Peter feeling cold in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. Until he nearly tripped over the threshold when the vibrator suddenly went to max intensity for a moment before turning off entirely. He shot a dirty look over his shoulder but Wade just smiled at him and shooed him inside.

When they walked into the living room, Aunt May was coming in from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and Peter rushed to help. He passed a cup to Wade as his aunt settled, and then one to her before taking the last and sitting down, where he made eye contact with his drink and couldn't seem to raise his gaze if his life depended on it.

"So, Wade, I haven't heard a thing about you!" Aunt May said cheerfully, breaking the silence. "It seems Peter was keeping you all to himself!"

"Can't hardly blame him," Wade replied, just as cheerfully, no hint of offense in his tone. But then again, Peter had already confessed to Wade that he hadn't told his aunt about him, and had paid the price for it too. "I usually have to beat my suitors back."

Aunt May laughed as Peter rolled his eyes, but when a hand curled around his, large and warm and comforting, he found it in himself to lift his gaze again.

"So, how long have you two lovebirds been secretly together?" May Parker had always worn her emotions on her face, and now was no different, but it had been a long time since Peter had seen her smile this much. It did a good job of chasing away most of his anxiety, having Aunt May sitting with him as happy as she'd been before she'd lost Uncle Ben, having Wade sitting at his side in his childhood home.

"Um… off and on for about four years?" Peter answered diplomatically. It wasn't until he caught Aunt May's eye that he realized his error - May had known about Mark, even if she hadn't met him, and she knew that they'd broken up, but not about the proposal or why. Mostly because Peter had been a coward and hadn't been able to tell her, but he knew he was going to be cornered before the night was over and made to talk.

"Four years and not a word?" was all Aunt May said instead, tsk-ing and shaking her head disapprovingly. "And how did you two meet then?"

Peter opened his mouth to reply and found he wasn't quite sure what to say, not without revealing his most closely guarded secret. He turned a helpless look to Wade who squeezed his hand and came to the rescue.

"Well, I kept seeing this cutie all over town and, naturally, I started crushing on him because our Petey is a paradigm of human goodness." Peter laughed weakly as Aunt May nodded understandingly and lifted his hand to press a kiss to the back of it, making Peter blush harder. "Apparently our jobs kept taking us to nearly the same places and I thought it was destiny but Petey here was a little harder to convince and it took a looong time to persuade him to try dating me and I musta done something right because here we are!"

"What a lovely story," Aunt May sighed, smiling at the both of them. "So what do you do for work then, Wade?"

"Pest control," Wade said with a grin and Peter, who'd just tried to take a drink, promptly nearly inhaled said drink instead of swallowing it.

"Sorry, wrong pipe," he excused through watery eyes. Aunt May immediately handed him the box of tissues, but Wade just smiled that shit-eating grin at him that told Peter that he knew exactly what had happened. Peter almost died a moment later when he blew out his nose and the vibrator in him turned on again, though thankfully at a low level, not enough to make him go rigid unexpectedly. Still, any level of ON was enough to stimulate his prostate and make him hard, his erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans in a way that was distinctly uncomfortable, both physically and mentally, considering he was sitting a few feet from his aunt and was having a conversation with her.

"Speaking of, whereabouts might I locate your water closet, my lady?" Wade asked in an dramatically polite accent, bordering on English. Or maybe Southern. Peter's brain wasn't working at full power at the moment, not with that incessant buzzing.

Aunt May chuckled and gestured down the hallway. "First doorway under the stairs, good sir," she replied, affecting Wade's accent. Wade's laugh was loud and delighted, and he dipped a deep bow and held it as he backed out of the room. Leaving Peter alone with his observant, inquisitive aunt while he was sitting on her couch in a hidden rope corset with both a plug and a bullet in his ass that was still vibrating. He suddenly couldn't look May in the eye.

"So…" she said slowly, and he knew she was waiting for him to explain. He did not. "Four years?" He hummed in confirmation. "I believe I recall hearing about a young man by the name of Mark that you were dating more recently than that."

"Something like that," Peter said vaguely, very clearly not looking his aunt in the face now.

"Peter," she said in her Warning voice, and he sighed.

"I was dating Mark and Wade at the same time," he confessed in a rush, staring his drink down, unable to bring himself to see the disappointment on May's face. "Wade… was gone suddenly gone without a word and I thought he left me. I started dating Mark because I missed Wade, and when Wade showed up again and told me he'd gotten stuck out of the country, I took him back but I didn't know how to let go of Mark." Peter's chest felt heavy with the admission even though it left his shoulders feeling lighter. "Wade knew about Mark but Mark didn't know about Wade until he walked in on us. Together."

"Oh Peter," Aunt May said sadly and Peter's ears hunched up by his shoulders, but the next thing he knew, May was sitting by his side and wrapping him up in her arms. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone. I hope you know that you can always come to me for anything, Peter."

Peter closed his eyes, feeling the old, familiar shame sweep over him as he sank into her embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of the perfume she'd worn all his life. "I know. I just… I was ashamed. I didn't want to let go of Wade and I didn't know how to let go of Mark and I... I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. You raised me better than that."

She pulled back and he reluctantly let her, but she just cupped his face in her hands, wrinkled and rough like Wade's, but from an old life well-lived and well-baked rather than scars and calluses. "We all make mistakes, Peter. It's part of life. And sometimes they're painful mistakes, sometimes they're ones you need to take care of yourself because you made them, but that doesn't mean you have to do it alone. You'll always have my support, no matter what. I'll always be here for you."

He could feel the soreness of impending tears and his eyes and he closed them to try to keep the wetness at bay. He didn't deserve the people that loved him, which hurt, but so did the thought that Aunt May wouldn't always be there for him, that she'd pass one day and Peter would be left alone. But then there was a hand in his hair, large and warm, and he opened his eyes and looked up into Wade's concerned face.

"I can't believe you're having a cryfest without me," he pouted, even as his palm slid down the back of Peter's head to his neck and squeezed, a comforting grounding touch that belied his concern.

No, Peter wouldn't be alone when May passed. He'd have Wade. He'd always have Wade.

Peter sniffed and scrubbed his eyes for a second to clear them and then reached forward to pull Aunt May into a hug this time, Wade's hand falling away. "Thank you," he whispered as he pulled away, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Everything's sorted then? Apologies given and all that?" May asked pointedly, thankfully not specifying their topic of conversation with Wade sitting down in his aunt's vacated chair.

"Everything's sorted and apologies doled out," Peter confirmed with a nod.

May smiled and patted his cheek. "See? I did raise you right after all."

Peter chuckled and a timer went off in the kitchen.

"Oh! The lasagna!" May cried and rushed from the room.

When Peter moved to follow her, Wade snagged his wrist and pulled him down into his lap, and it was only then that Peter realized the vibrater had been turned off again.

"Everything all right, baby boy?" Wade murmured quietly, searching his face and hand heavy at the back of Peter's neck again.

"Yeah, just, doing a little bit of catchup is all," Peter replied. "Promise. I'm still yours."

The hand at his nape tightened for a moment, a delicious grip, and Wade blinked painfully slowly, making Peter's breath catch and he felt his own pulse speed up in response. He'd been saying it for months, his alternative to the tongue twisting other three magic relationship words, and Wade's reaction was still the same. If they weren't at his aunt's house right now, in her living room with her moving around the room over, Peter was certain that he would have found himself on Wade's cock before he could breathe.

The thought made him squirm on Wade's lap, his plug shifting inside him and shifting the still-OFF bullet in him, rubbing it against his prostate, which only made him squirm more. "Wade," he breathed.

Wade's eyes opened to half mast, fixed on Peter's face, and then the hand on the back of his neck pulled him down to Wade's mouth. Peter had to fist his hands in Wade's sweater to keep them from wandering, and he could feel the weight of Wade's free hand sliding around the ropes around his ribcage, touching but not pulling closer. He leaned in closer anyway, pressing himself as close to Wade as he could and the hand at his ribs moved around his back, fingertips sliding into the waistband of his-

"Peter Benjamin Parker!"

Peter jumped and scrambled off Wade's lap, relieved to find May not standing in the doorway, but she was still shouting from the kitchen.

"No hanky panky in my house, young man! Now come set the table!"

"No, Aunt May. Yes, Aunt May," he shouted back. To Wade, who he couldn't quite look at, he muttered, "I uh- I gotta go set to the table," and fast-tracked it to the kitchen.

Despite the aversion of his gaze, Peter still managed to get a glimpse of Wade's half-lidded gaze and lazy, satisfied smile, and had to force himself not to climb right back into his boyfriend's lap.

May was smiling when Peter walked into the kitchen, but she thankfully did not comment on either his mussed hair or his flaming red face. Together, in silence, they set the table in a well-choreographed dance: his aunt the food and Peter the dishes. The heavy fall of Wade's boots moving across the hardwood of the living room came as Peter was pulling the plates from the cupboard, and Peter couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat or the way his cock throbbed, trapped in denim. Especially not when the vibrator turned on again as Wade showed up in the doorway, hands in his pockets. Peter almost dropped the plates and only barely managed to finish setting the table without breaking anything.

"Wonderful job, Peter," May said with a smile as she sat in her normal chair and Peter gingerly followed suit, trying not to make the act of sitting look weird and paranoid about the buzz of the vibrator translating through the silicone of his plug and becoming audible against the wood of the chairs. "Wade, come sit down," May beckoned cheerfully, apparently unaware of the sharpness of Wade's gaze, though Peter could feel it like a blade at his throat.

Thankfully, the vibrations slowed as Wade moved to sit down at the spot Peter had set for him, opposite of Uncle Ben's old spot. For a moment, Peter forgot his arousal as he and May looked as one to Ben's seat, and then Peter leaned over and lit the candle that always sat at the place setting. When he looked back at May, he was surprised to see her looking at him, her eyes glistening alarmingly.

"Ben would have been proud of you, Peter," she said, and Peter felt his own eyes get wet too. "He was proud of you. He would been so happy to see you here, to meet Wade."

Peter cleared his throat and reached across the table to take her hand. "I know," he said softly. She held his gaze and his hand for a long moment, her thumb sweeping back and forth across the back of his hand, and then she sat up right and cleared her throat.

"I think we've had enough crying for one night," she declared, her voice strong, but not a faux strength from hiding emotions. She'd probably never get over losing her husband, but she'd learned how to deal with the pain over the years, as had Peter, and it was getting easier to bear. "Any more and the salt will over-season the food," she laughed. "Now, dish up!"

Peter couldn't help but laugh with her, and though it started a bit forced, the pressure at the back of his throat eased when Wade took his other hand for a moment to give it a squeeze. Peter squeezed back and shot Wade a thankful smile, and then extracted his hand to get to the garlic bread before Wade stole it all.

The only downside the entirety of their dinner was when Wade had excused himself to take a call and then came back to the table talking about a month-long job that started the next day. One that would take him out of the country through and past Peter's graduation, which May volunteered to record for him if he wanted to watch it later. Peter was disappointed until May went to the bathroom while he and Wade were washing dishes and Wade had moved behind him, pressing him against the cupboards, promising that he'd make his absence up to Peter both before and after he'd left, all the while rocking a faint erection against Peter's ass and exacerbating Peter's own erection, which hadn't really faded all evening.

It made hugging Aunt May at the front door not long after a little awkward, with Peter trying to bear hug his aunt while keeping his hips back, but he managed. Barely.

"Thanks for dinner, Aunt May," Peter said as he pulled away, feeling a little guilty about being relieved.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to take the leftovers home?" she asked worriedly, and Peter understood her concern - for years, he'd scarfed down whatever he was given and always took home whatever remained from their weekend dinners. But for the first time since he'd gained his powers, he wasn't starving all the time.

"I'm sure," Peter said with a smile. "Wade's making sure I eat enough."

"I keep the fridge full of green things all the time," Wade confirmed and Aunt May smiled at him.

"Take care of him," she said, looking between the both of them.

"I will," Peter surprised himself by saying the same time as Wade, and Wade turned wide eyes towards him as May gifted him with a smile.

"Peter, don't forget, you're always welcome to come home to visit, and you can always talk to me about anything," May said pointedly and Peter smiled.

"I know," he said softly, and pointedly laced his fingers with Wade's.

"And Wade, it was lovely to meet you and you're always welcome to come visit too." May reached out to grasp Wade's free hand in both of her own, and even though this wasn't the first time she'd touched him tonight, Wade still went tense. He was getting better about Peter accepting his skin, but he was still uncomfortable with anyone else touching it or drawing attention to it in any way. "I'm happy you found each other."

"Me too, Aunt May," Wade said softly, and it made Peter's heart melt a little. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing how much Wade felt for him, how strongly. Especially since Peter was coming to terms with feeling the same.

"Good," she said firmly. "Safe travels, boys. See you soon."

They echoed her farewell back at her as they finally made it back down the porch steps they'd climbed up only hours ago. They were the same steps Peter's had run up and down his whole life, the same walkway, the same city block towards the subway, but he couldn't remember the last time he felt so light, so fulfilled, so happy. He had Wade at his side and his aunt was happy and healthy and liked Wade too, and finally, besides Spider-Man, Peter was free from secrets from his loved ones for the first time in his life.

WIthout warning, Wade suddenly swept him up in a bear hug that lifted his feet off the ground and Peter let out a squawk of surprise. Kisses rained down on his face, and when they finally stopped and he could open his eyes again, he found Wade grinning at him from ear to ear.

"What was that for?" Peter asked breathlessly, his legs dangling and his feet bumping into Wade's shins as Wade kept walking. He wormed his arms out from under Wade's and wrapped them around Wade's neck.

"For introducing me to Aunt May," Wade replied cheerfully.

"Isn't that backwards?" Peter laughed. "Shouldn't I be thanking you for coming to meet my family? That's how it usually goes, I think."

"Usual smusual," Wade scoffed and shrugged. "I wasn't sure you'd ever want me to meet your family, not with my public record."

"Of course I did," Peter replied, a little confused. "Why wouldn't I want my two favourite people to meet?"

Wade stopped walking and Peter realized what he said, remembered the reaction that confessions usually got from Wade, and bit his lip. Unexpectedly, all Wade did was slowly lower him back down on his feet. Peter looked up at him, confused. "Wh-"

The bullet in him turned on again without warning, at full intensity, and Peter's knees buckled. The only thing that kept him upright was the hand gripping the back of his neck, like he was an errant cat. Wade pulled him up and started walking, and Peter had no choice but to follow, even though he felt like he was going to collapse any second. The vibrations were making his legs weak and his spine feel like it had turned into molten metal.

"Wade!" he gasped, fingers clawing at Wade's ribs, curling in the side of his hoodie.

"If you can make it to the subway without stopping, I'll turn it off for the ride." Wade's tone had dropped into his familiar Dom voice, and Peter nodded, almost desperately.

"Yes, Wade," he panted, the order, or rather, the potential reward, sharpening his focus, forcing him to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, on not collapsing, or coming without permission.

It got a little easier to walk as he slowly got used to his arousal and the buzz of the bullet, but he was walking like he was drunk and he could barely see. As usual, it was only Wade keeping him going, only Wade's hand at his neck and his heat along Peter's side. He must have made it though, because they were descending stairs and the vibrations were fading as well, and when he blinked, his eyelids heavy and near-unresponsive, he realized they were standing in the subway station, waiting for the next train.

The hand at his nape squeezed once, but slow and hard enough to send fresh shivers down his spine, and then slid down to wrap around his shoulder instead. Wade leaned in close to press a kiss to the side of his head and apparently used the opportunity to whisper in Peter's ear too.

"You did so good for me, baby boy," he murmured, voice low and dark and everything Peter and his throbbing erection couldn't really handle right now, as keyed up as he was. "And when we get home, I'm gonna give you a treat for being so perfect."

Peter groaned and leaned his forehead against Wade's shoulder. "You're evil," he muttered as the train came screeching into the station.

Wade laughed into his hair and gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Yeah, but you love it," he teased.

And just like that, the words that had been sticking in the back of Peter's throat for the last year came unstuck, and his mouth was moving before he'd even realized it.

"I love you."

Peter froze in shock.

Wade went stock-still.

The train came to a stop.

Holy shit. He'd said it. He'd actually said it. Those words had actually come out of Peter's very own mouth. He'd been trying to get them out for months, and then they just happened? In public?? For a moment, Peter disassociated from his body, floated outside of it, and then slammed back in as the doors opened and Wade was suddenly dragging him inside with a hand around his forearm, holding just the wrong side of too-tight. Wade, who hadn't said anything. Wade who was being eerily silent.

Peter's heart leaped into his throat, and not in a good way.


Without so much as a twinge to his Spidey sense, Wade's other hand was at his throat, gripping tight enough to cut Peter off before he'd even finished a syllable. Both hands on him were almost painful in their grip as they lifted and slammed him against the wall on the inside of the train, hard enough to make him gasp in surprise as Wade's body pinned his to the graffitied metal.

Despite the common New Yorker habit of ignoring everything going on around you if it wasn't your business, Wade's actions were far from discreet, and most of the people around them were edging away. A few were getting closer, guys that looked like they could handle themselves and were getting ready to handle Wade. Peter raised his hands on either side of Wade's body and gestured 'stay back' until the tough guys stopped inching forward, then gave them thumbs up.

This wasn't going how Peter had pictured, like at all, even if he hadn't really been able to picture this moment before without his mind skipping over the actual confession. Still, Wade had never once reacted with violence towards Peter, especially not when Peter had managed to voice any kind of emotional declaration. He usually reacted- Oh.

"Wade?" Peter whispered.

The hands on him, around his throat and his bicep, squeezed, dissuading him from speaking again. Wade's head bowed, bringing his lips right near Peter's ear, making him shiver between Wade's body and the wall, which only made Wade lean harder into him.

"One more fucking word out of your perfect fucking mouth, sweetheart, and I will fuck you in front of every fucking person, animal, and fucking security camera on this fucking train." Wade's low voice was practically a growl, and Peter couldn't tell if it was the threatening promise or the tone, or the teeth Wade set to the tendons of his neck under the grip of his thumb, that had him biting his lip to keep from moaning, that had his cock throbbing against Wade's stomach.

What he did know was that Wade was hard and hot, pressing against his thigh like a brand, that the fingers wrapped around his arm and his throat were going to leave bruises, that he wouldn't be surprised if someone called the cops on Wade anyway, and if Wade said the word, Peter would come immediately.

He didn't know what it said about him that he was so unbearably aroused and attracted by how much Wade loved him, and he didn't really care. Peter was starving for Wade's attention, for his love, for his touch. Even when didn't want any of it, or rather, when he told himself he didn't want any of it, he still needed it like he needed air. He couldn't tell if it was worse or better, now that he'd accepted all of Wade with open arms and returned all that Wade had given him before. All he knew was that he would never get enough, and Wade was going to give him everything he could want as soon as they got back home.

The familiar hour-long trip had never taken so long before, which Peter attributed to the hard-on in his jeans that refused to go away. He never had a chance to soften, between the teeth and hot breath at his neck and the way his cock kept rubbing up against the hard muscles of Wade's stomach. For all he knew, it could have just been because Wade never went soft either, the line of him against Peter's leg hot and unyielding. It left Peter staring out the window across from him and studiously avoiding eye contact with everyone in the carriage.

He probably looked like a domestic abuse victim, which was so much more preferable to any one of the strangers around them to knowing that Peter was so hard he could faint and one wrong move from coming in his jeans. Both those who had been on the train when Wade had first pinned him and those getting on at new stations were studious in avoiding looking directly at the two of them as well, which was the New Yorker way that Peter had never been so grateful for in the past. Still, he could feel eyes on them, could see passengers sliding wary, suspicious frowns their way, and aiming camera phones at them, on more than one occasion. Thankfully, Wade was hooded and Peter was mostly hidden by the press of Wade's body so they shouldn't be too easy to identify, but it also meant that the sound of their stop approaching had suddenly become the most beautiful thing Peter had ever heard.

The lines of Wade's shoulders looked unbearably tense, and Peter was sure he'd heard the announcement too, but he was still and immovable as a statue as the train pulled to a stop and the doors behind him slid open. As much as Peter wanted to get home and now, he didn't know what would happen if he spoke, or even if he just raised his hands, dangling at his sides, and brushed them somewhere innocuous against Wade. It wasn't until the ding of the final warning echoed through the weirdly silent carriage that Wade moved, pulling away from the wall and taking Peter with him, letting him back down to his feet and dragging him out the doors right as they started to close.

It left him in the unfortunate position of getting an eyeful of the way everyone in the carriage was staring at them, and it put him in the viewfinder of more than one cell phone. Peter mostly cringed his way out the doors onto the platform, but he didn't have a moment to stop and process. Wade's hand was on the back of his neck again and he was propelling Peter up the stairs. The places his hands had been during the ride, around Peter's throat and around his bicep, were already feeling sore, and he'd bet his thirty-year-old television that bruises were blooming across his skin as they made their way towards his apartment.

Walking without talking felt beyond strange, but every time Peter felt the temptation, he bit his tongue to keep the words at bay; now was not the moment he wanted to test Wade's restraint, or his devotion to his promise-threat, because Peter probably wouldn't be able to find it in himself to safeword out of the situation. Which had always been his problem when it came to Wade Wilson, but why stop now? Although, despite the fact that they weren't speaking, the air around them was still crackling with noise - the heavy thump of Wade's boots on the sidewalk, the near-panting heavy exhales of Peter's breath, the pounding of his heart, beating harder and faster the closer they got to his apartment building until it was racing by the time they stepped into the lobby.

Wade didn't pause though, didn't give Peter time to collect himself now that they were finally somewhere mostly private. He just marched Peter right over to and up the stairs. Peter's legs barely survived, despite his super strength, already weak from the earlier onslaught from the bullet, which Wade had thankfully, hopefully, been too distracted to turn back on. He didn't realize how bad it was until he tried to unlock his front door and his hands shook so much that he dropped his keys.

Instead of letting Peter go to pick them up, Wade's steady, heavy breathing deepened and he pushed on the back of Peter's neck until he had to crouch so he could pick them up. When Wade let him straighten again, he moved behind Peter and slid his free hand down Peter's trembling arm to steady his hand and guide the key into the lock. His closeness, his touch, his breath against what little of Peter's neck was still exposed, almost made Peter drop his keys a second time; only Wade's firm grip on his hand prevented that further delay.

The world held its breath as Wade turned Peter's hand and the key in the lock, like they had fallen into the eye of the storm, and the click of the lock was almost deafening in the silent hallway. For some reason, Peter's breath froze in his chest, and he felt for a moment like he was standing on the edge of a knife, watching like a prisoner in his own body as Wade's hand made him pull out the key and turn the knob. The door swung open, and just like that, they were in the hurricane again.

Peter almost stumbled under the force with which Wade pushed him into the apartment, but two steps in, Wade was grabbing him again, pulling him back towards the door. It slammed shut a millisecond before Peter was slammed face-first into the back of it, and it was only years of street fighting that kept him from squashing his nose against the wood. He turned his cheek to the cool surface and tried to look over his shoulder. He didn't get more than a glimpse of the almost-manic gleam of Wade's eyes under his hood before the flash of something metal distracted him. A second later, there was a breeze against his back, and then a knife buried itself in the door in front of Peter's face.

"Wade!" Peter gasped, startled at the ferocity of Wade's actions. Even though he'd always reacted with extreme fervor to any declaration of affection from Peter, there had always been some form of restraint keeping Wade together. Right now, he seemed out of control and desperate - cutting open Peter's clothes just to get to his skin? - and Peter felt like he should be scared, but all he had room for in his mind was a burning lust.

"Get naked right now or I'll do it for you," Wade growled, and Peter unfroze like his subconscious was built to follow Wade's demands at will.

He scrambled for the button of his jeans, but Wade's hands went to Peter's back where he started to rip and yank at Peter's hoodie and shirt, and the ropes binding his ribs. Every tug made Peter's hands slip off the button, and then the zipper, and he didn't manage to get them both undone until the remains of his hoodie and shirt, and of Wade's pretty ropes, littered the ground around their feet. Just as he reached to push his jeans down, Wade's hands were already there, jarring Peter with the force he used to push them down, but he didn't bother pushing them past Peter's knees.

Peter half expected this to be the moment that Wade calmed again, at the sight of Peter standing naked under him, but Peter's plug and bullet were pulled out with an uncharacteristic quickness that had him trying to bite back a cry. They'd already put on a show for half of New York on the subway, no reason to do the same for his neighbors.

In contrast, Wade was eerily silent behind him, though if Peter concentrated, he could hear the forced steadiness of his breathing, the zipper on his jeans coming down, the wet sound of him lubing his cock up. Peter waited for the other shoe to drop with bated breath, his heart rate getting faster and faster with each moment that Wade wasn't touching him, and suddenly, he understood Wade's fervor because those few seconds without his boyfriend's hands on him had made him achingly ravenous.

"I love you, Wade." He didn't understand why it had been so hard for him to say it for the last year when all of a sudden it was beyond easy. Out of nowhere, the idea of affirming his feelings for Wade was easier than breathing. And it was all that was needed to break whatever strange spell had befallen his love.

Wade groaned, low and deep and wrecked like Peter had never heard before, and then the tip of his cock was against Peter's hole, pushing inside without giving Peter time to breathe or prepare for the intrusion. He bucked, but he was caught between the equally hard barriers of Wade's body and the door and had nowhere to go except backwards onto Wade's cock. Which didn't give him time to adjust before it was pulling out and fucking back into him in a rabid pace, like Wade couldn't bear pulling out and was trying to get back into Peter's body before it missed him.

"Oh my god oh my fucking god," Peter gasped, one hand reaching up to dig his nails into the wood of the door and the other reaching up to grasp the hilt of Wade's knife for lack of anything else to hold onto as he was filled filled filled. There was an arm around his waist, binding him tighter to Wade than any rope, and a hand on his cheek, pushing his face the other way for his mouth to be devoured too.

"Please, baby boy," Wade gasped between kisses, hips mercilessly driving Peter into the door, "please I need to hear you say it again, fuck-"

Peter's vocal chords responded to Wade's need with a strange familiarity, as if they'd done this before. "I love you, Wade," Peter managed, unable to break away from Wade's mouth for too long before he was pulling Peter back in, like he couldn't get enough to breathe and needed to steal Peter's breath. "I love you, I love you, I love-"

"Fuck, sweetheart, I can't- I love you so fucking much you're so good you're so perfect, fuck baby boy, more I need more-"

"I love you- I love you, Wade I love you you're the best thing that ever happened to me I'm sorry I'm-"

"Oh my god, Petey, you're-"

"God, Wade-"


Peter's orgasm hit him suddenly and unexpectedly, blinding his vision and making him seize on Wade's pistoning cock. But because Wade wasn't stopping, was still fucking into him, his orgasm went on and on until he started to shake from it. There was a strange rip-cracking sound next to his head, and then Wade was stilling, pressing hard into him like he was trying to indent an impression of his hip bones against Peter's ass. It took a minute for his vision to clear, for the shakes to stop, and it wasn't until then that he realized the strange sound he'd heard was Wade's knife, which Peter had apparently, and accidentally, ripped out of his door, along with a chunk of door itself. He'd worry about the deposit if he hadn't basically lost it the day he'd moved in.

Wade's forehead was pressed to Peter's temple and he was panting into Peter's ear, heaving breaths that sounded unnatural from a man who excelled in bodily control. Peter carefully dropped the knife point down into the wood floor - yeah, that deposit was super gone - and raised his hand to reach behind him to cup the back of Wade's head.

"...t enough," Wade mumbled, words mostly unintelligible despite the relative lack of distance between his mouth and Peter's ear, like he was talking through gritted teeth.

"Hm?" Peter hummed and shifted backwards a little, trying to relieve the pressure against his own hip bones. His softening cock shifted and he grimaced at the feel of it sliding through something wet, realizing that he probably came all over his door.

"Not enough, baby boy," Wade rasped, his low voice sending shivers down Peter's spine and making his cock twitch in interest. Sometimes having a super-powered refractory period sucked, especially when he was younger, but with Wade, it was mostly a blessing. "I need you again, Petey. I need to fill you up until there's no more room for me. I need to fuck you until you can't stand it any longer. I need you to say it again and never stop."

"Wade," Peter croaked out, his throat sore like he'd been screaming. He really hoped he hadn't been screaming. He still had months left on his lease and he still had to look his neighbors in the eye. "Bed first."

"No, Petey, please, just once more, just one more time and then I'll stop if you want me to I promise-" Wade sounded wrecked and desperate, still hard inside Peter, arms holding Peter to him tighter. Peter was already on board, but if he hadn't been, that would have done the trick.

"Hey, hey," he interrupted softly, twisting his head to try to press kisses to what he could reach of Wade's face. It would have been more effective if Wade's body wasn't still pinning him in place. "You can have me as much as you want, just this door kinda hurts. If you wanna sexathon, a bed would be way more comfy."

Wade was silent for a moment before his forehead landed heavily on Peter's shoulder with a snort. "Sorry, baby boy. Didn't mean to hurt you like that." His arms shifted, withdrawing a little from around Peter's waist and neck, only so Wade could worm his hands between Peter's hipbones and the door right after, protecting his hips from the solid surface. It had the potentially-unintentional result of pulling Peter back a little tighter on Wade's hard cock and Peter had to let out a long, slow exhale.

"We should- we should move now. Before I forget that there's even a bed available," Peter barely managed to say, swallowing thickly against the need to start fucking himself back onto Wade's cock again.

"Do I have to pull out?" Wade murmured, lifting his head, if only to nuzzle into Peter's neck. He could feel the muscles in his ass waver around Wade's cock, and Wade inhaled slow and deep, his fingers at Peter's hips tightening so hard that Peter knew he'd have bruises there too.

"Well," Peter panted, "since i want us to be naked, yeah, yeah you kinda have to, sorry." The door creaked under the force of Peter's fingers and he forced himself to curl them into his palms.

"Do I have to be naked?" Wade asked, dragging his lips up the line of Peter's neck to bite softly at his earlobe.

"Only if you want me to tell you how much I love when you're naked." Talking was getting harder and harder, not unlike his cock, and it only got more difficult when Wade groaned and dropped his head down, teeth sinking into the curve of Peter's neck.

"Don't-" Wade started, leaving behind the sting of his bite. "Don't say anything else. Just- Fuck- Hurry, sweetheart. I fucking need you so bad."

Peter's heart stumbled in his chest and his mouth opened, 'Yes, Wade' on his tongue, before he caught himself and nodded instead. Wade pulled out and stepped back like he was ripping himself from Peter, and his reluctance to pull out had never been so hot. Faster than he ever had before, Peter yanked off his shoes and socks and shucked his jeans and boxers, and his only pause on the way to his bedroom was to scoop his plug off the floor because there was no chance he wasn't going to need it by the time Wade was satisfied. Or until Peter begged a break because he had a hard time imagining Wade was going to be satisfied anytime soon.

As if to counter Peter's frantic movements, Wade wasn't moving at all, was standing only a few feet back from Peter, fully dressed except where his hard cock was sticking out from the V of his jeans. His head was bowed, his face in shadow, and Peter raised a hand to touch him, to make sure he was okay before it occurred to him that Wade was most likely trying to get himself under control again and that touching him would just end up with Peter getting fucked on his living room floor. He hurried past and into his bedroom, flinging himself onto his bed, his heart beating a rapid staccato against his rib cage. There were butterflies in his stomach, like he was 8 again and seeing the pretty redhead girl move in next door.

Suddenly, Peter couldn't contain all the joy in his chest and he slapped his hands over his face, nearly poking himself in the eye with the plug he was still holding, and curled into a ball, his mouth split in an uncontrollable grin. There wasn't anything about the last year that hadn't been beyond amazing with Wade, nothing that made him love the man any less, only everything that made him love Wade more. Wade made him feel more loved than anyone in Peter's life had made him feel, more cared for and protected and safe. More than that, or maybe just as important as that, was that Wade made him feel like he was the best Peter Benjamin Parker that he could be. Their relationship had started with him feeling like the worse version of himself, denying whatever feelings he might have had, and as soon as he'd stopped being stubborn, as soon as he let himself try and communicate, his life had taken a complete 180. Though his Parker Luck meant that there was probably a fall somewhere in his near future, he was more sure than ever that he'd have someone there next to him to help him weather it, to help him stay upright and moving forward.

"Baby boy? You okay?" Wade sounded tentative and worried, unsure, and Peter's heart jumped in realization at what kind of picture his pose was probably painting for his surprisingly insecure boyfriend. He uncurled and rolled over, and Wade visibly relaxed at seeing his smile.

"Never better," Peter assured, reaching over to plunk his plug down on his bedside table. "Almost never better," he amended. "As soon as you get over here I'll be 'never better', though the view right now is absolutely fantastic."

Wade might have been covered in scars, but he still looked so fucking perfect. A pinnacle of human perfection. There was clear definition to every one of his muscles, and his monster of a cock looked too tempting between two thick thighs. It was a sight he never got tired of and a sight that he didn't get to see often enough, not when Wade was still reluctant to get undressed in front of him most days. Peter couldn't help but lick his lips just looking at him.

"Careful, baby boy," Wade said, voice low and dark as he stalked forward, bare feet silent on the wood. "Look at a man like that and he's bound to start getting ideas."

Peter rolled over onto his back and let his legs fall open, inviting Wade between them with a crook of his finger. "What kind of ideas?" he asked breathlessly as Wade crawled up onto the bed, between his thighs, and over his body.

"Would you like me to tell you?" Wade asked, ducking down to steal a too-short kiss. "Or show you?"

"Show me," Peter breathed. He reached up to cup Wade's face in his hands and brought him back down. "Please."

Something felt different almost immediately. Not just different from their frantic fuck against the door, but different from every time they'd fucked before. Wade kissed him again when Peter tugged him closer, and then he kept kissing him. Unlike the times he'd done it to exhaust Peter's lungs, this time he felt slow, indulgent. Like he was taking his time not just for Peter, but for himself. Peter moaned into his mouth, his dick twitching, trapped between their bellies, and he could feel Wade's smile, but Wade didn't do anything other than settle his weight more completely between Peter's legs and keep. kissing. him.

They kissed until Peter was dizzy from lack of breath, though this time it wasn't because Wade was forcing the kisses but because Peter was. Every time Wade pulled away to let Peter breathe, Peter whimpered and pulled him back in, unable to get enough of Wade's mouth, of the slow, slick glide of their tongues, of Wade's breath filling him. They kissed until Peter was dizzy from arousal, his vision swimming and his heartbeat too loud in his ears and too heavy in his cock. They kissed until his hands slid down from the back of Wade's head to his shoulders and down his back, pulling at Wade with the tips of his fingers.

"Please," Peter whispered, begged in the space between Wade's lips. "Please, I love you, Wade, please-"

"Shhh," Wade hushed, settling both elbows right above Peter's shoulders to bury both hands in Peter's hair. "Don't tempt me like that right now, sweetheart. I want to take my time and you're going to let me, or else I'm going to have to gag you."

Peter contemplated the pros and cons of that for a moment, but just when he decided to open his mouth, one of Wade's hands fisted his hair tight, angling his head back to expose the front of his throat.

"A gag means no kisses, no saying you love me," Wade said casually as he dipped down to suck and bite a mark over Peter's adam's apple. "Would you prefer going back to not saying it?"

"N-no, W-Wade," Peter stuttered, arching up into the harsh, stinging suction of Wade's mouth as it moved across the front of his throat. Like he was making a collar of hickies. There was a split second where Peter wondered where his ribbon collar was before he decided he wanted the one Wade was making on his skin more than the slip of red fabric. At least, right now he did.

"Alright then," Wade said magnanimously. Peter's neck was aching, sore from Wade's affections, and it wasn't nearly enough. "Then be a good boy for me and let me worship you."

"Oh," Peter gasped as Wade slid down and pressed a kiss to each nipple before he settled over one and began to alternate pulling gently at it with his teeth and circling it with his tongue. "Oh-okay."

It was beyond difficult to stay still under Wade's mouth, but since Wade hadn't told him that he had to, and since most of Wade's weight was keeping him pinned down, he didn't really try. The touch was… new. Somehow all of this felt new even though they'd been together for four years, and Peter's hands didn't know what to do. He tried fisting the comforter as he arched up into Wade's mouth when Wade was using his tongue, and he tried wrapping his hands back around Wade's head to pull him in when Wade pulled back to breathe cool air over his sensitive nipple, and he tried pushing Wade's head away in a confused arousal when Wade used his teeth.

When Wade slowly pulled away from Peter's very sore, very stiff nipple, Peter was whimpering and clawing at the bed, his head tossing back and forth as he wrestled with processing the stimuli. Before he could reach for Wade, Wade was already reaching for him, grabbing his wrists, wrapping them in leather cuffs. There was the quiet, musical tinkling of a chain, and then his hands were stuck above his head, the chain of the cuffs looped around a spoke of the headboard, forcing his arms up and out of the way, leaving his sides exposed.

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you out of those later to touch me when I fuck you." Wade was already sounding in control of himself again, the immovable Dom that had dominated Peter's sex life the last several years. He didn't even bother waiting to get a response from Peter, which worked out because Peter wasn't sure his vocal cords were capable of making human sounds anymore, especially since Wade had lowered himself again, this time to fix his mouth over Peter's other nipple.

He'd half-expected to already be acclimated to the feel of Wade's tongue and teeth, but the touch of them on his other nipple was just as achingly unbearable as the first. The chains made a quiet clink with every writhing twist of Peter's spine, his mind in full understanding that he couldn't get out without using his powers and breaking his bed, but his body unable to stop from reacting to the touch. And yet, his abandoned nipple throbbed as if calling out for Wade's mouth again, and Peter whimpered and whined, arching as far off the bed as Wade's weight would let him.

Wade chuckled, the vibrations against Peter's sensitive nipple making him jerk, and then Wade's hands were pressing against his sides, smoothing up his ribs, thumbs slowly bumping over each bone like Wade was counting how many he'd have to break to crawl inside. Eventually, they curled under Peter's shoulders, palming his shoulder blades, his hands big enough for the tips of his fingers to curl over the tops of Peter's shoulders, almost-but-not-quite holding him in place. "How do you feel, Petey?"

It took more than a few tries to get his mouth to work, and by the time he did, Wade had pulled away from his nipples, leaving them cold and hard and bare. His mouth kissed down Peter's sternum and then across his bottom ribs to his side where his teeth sunk into Peter's skin and Peter jumped and yelped, "Ticklish!"

"You sure?" Wade murmured, sounding amused, and then did it again.

This time Peter curled sideways, like he could wrap himself over the top of Wade's head, but the cuffs around his wrists kept him from doing more than a curvy S. "N-no," Peter stuttered and gasped as Wade started to suck. "I don't- I can't- I don't know," he panted.

Wade pulled away from Peter's side, leaving behind the imprint of his teeth, and grinned at Peter as he moved to the other side. He kissed down and stopped halfway between Peter's ribs and hip, and then bit down. Hard. Peter bucked and cried out in surprise, and tried to wriggle away from the strange sensation, but Wade seemed to suddenly become more dense, his fingers clamping down hard on Peter's shoulders.

"Please!" Peter begged, tugging helplessly on his restraints as Wade pulled away . "Please- I- I- I- I can't! I need-" He cut off, words failing him entirely when Wade chose that moment to bite down with more force than before on the curve of Peter's hip. He nearly levitated off the bed in shock at the strange, stinginging, not-pain, inhaling so sharply that he forgot to let it back out again.

A hand pressed down had on his belly and increased pressure as it glided up his sternum, forcing him back down to the bed. "Breathe, sweetheart. I need you to remember to breathe."

Peter exhaled harshly and then tried to test Wade's hand at his chest, but Wade was like a mountain when he wanted to be, and mountains cannot be persuaded, but they can be worn down. "I need- i need you," Peter begged. "I need you in me. I need-" Wade slid suddenly down, his shoulders getting under Peter's legs, and Peter choked at the sensation of Wade's hot breath across his inner thigh, at the sight of Wade grinning at him from so near his cock. "Yes! Please!"

"Since you want it so bad…" Wade looked and sounded… smug, and Peter didn't figure out why until a moment later when Wade started sucking on the sensitive skin there. Peter's legs clamped tight in surprise around Wade's head, but Wade just chuckled and sucked harder, despite the heels digging into his back.

"Not- not that," Peter managed to protest, though he couldn't be entirely certain that the words coming out of his mouth were intelligible. Or actually coming out of his mouth. "In me. Fuck me. Fuck- please, Wade!"

Wade didn't respond this time, just smiled softly at Peter as he kissed up Peter's leg from the red mark he'd left, up to Peter's hipbone then across to the other one, and then down where he started to suck at the crease of Peter's thigh with a softness that was somehow worse then the harsh ones of before. He went at the spot like he was making out with it: eyes closed, expression gentle, slow swipes of his tongue. Peter found himself entranced by the sight of Wade, looking like he was enjoying himself so so much, and he started undulating up into Wade's mouth, like he was face-fucking him but without any actual contact on his dick.

He was so invested in Wade's enjoyment that he almost didn't notice the fingers at his hole. He might not have, if he hadn't been so unbearably empty since he'd walked out of the living room. So when three wet digits worked into him, they didn't bring a sense of penetration so much as a sense of coming home. Or rather, of Wade coming home. Peter collapsed to the mattress with a sigh, nearly relieved beyond measure to be filled again, even if it wasn't by what he was craving most.

"Wade," he sighed happily. He rolled his hips at the fullness of it, of Wade's fingers unmoving in him. It was good, not the best, but now that he had a part of Wade in him, it was like Peter's patience timer had been reset to zero and he was more content to wait a little longer for Wade's cock.

"You calmed down fast," Wade said, amused, and Peter blinked down at him. The spot Wade had been attending to at the crease of his thigh was wet and red, sore in soft way, rather than the sharper lingering sensation from the places Wade had bit him. Peter wasn't sure which one he liked, or disliked, more. He'd figure that out after he figured out how he felt about the feelings in the first place.

"You're in me," Peter murmured, smiling down at the man between his legs.

Wade's expression went curiously blank for a moment, and then he was crawling back up Peter's body, regrettably taking his fingers with him. Still, the length of his body settling over Peter's, pinning him to the bed they shared more nights than not, was deeply satisfying, as was the soft press of his lips against Peter's. The length of his cock pressed against Peter's ass, but unfortunately not at any kind of angle that would let Peter try to work at getting it to slip and slip into him.

"You really love when I'm in you, don't you, baby boy?" Wade asked softly. The expression on his face was soft and gentle, happy in a way that Peter rarely saw. It made him feel like his chest was glowing to see it.

"Yes, Wade," Peter replied, just as softly. He tilted his chin up to try to take a kiss and Wade let him, kissing him back down to the bed before pulling away again.

"Tell me why." Wade's eyes nearly glowed from their intensity, but it was the familiar low, dark tone that had Peter's eyelashes fluttering and his cock pulsing, that had him undulating into the body over his.

"Because I love you," Peter whispered, the words easier and easier to say with each utterance. He could feel the sincerity and the power of them down to his bones, that knowledge that someone loved him more than anyone in the universe and he loved that person that much right back. "I love you more than I ever loved anyone and I need you in my life and in me."

Wade groaned even as he dipped in to take Peter's mouth again in another soul-devouring kiss that had Peter pulling fruitlessly at his binds. "You'll always have me baby boy, in your life and in you." And he reached down between them to guide himself at last into Peter's body.

Peter nearly cried in relief at finally having Wade's cock pushing into him, at his girth splitting Peter wide open, like cracking a rock in half to see the crystal inside. If someone were to break Peter in half right now, they could see right into his chest, see the heart that beat for the man above and around and inside of him. It had been hard, in the very beginning, to love Deadpool, to love Wade, because Peter had refused to let himself. In reality, it was so easy to love him that he didn't know how to comprehend stopping.

"Fuck, sweetheart, it drives me wild when you say shit like that," Wade nearly growled as he came to a stop, fully sheathed in Peter's body. He was balancing on his elbows, forearms braced on either side of Peter's ribs, caging him in.

"Hm?" Peter asked, clenching tight around Wade's cock just to feel him.

There was a low chuckle from above him and Peter realized he'd let his eyes fall closed in his self-decadence. He forced them back open, the possibility of seeing Wade's emotions on his face more tempting than letting himself drown in the pleasure soon to come.

"Whatever you were thinking in that pretty head of yours you were saying out loud. Even prettier things that make we want to ravage you until the end of time." Wade's words almost didn't register then because that was the moment he pulled out, a slow unsheathing with a pause when just the tip of his dick was still safely held inside Peter, and then he pushed in just as slowly, forcing Peter's body to adjust to the re-intrusion a millimeter at a time.

"Sorry," Peter rasped. He wanted to touch, but his arms were kept extended by those damned cuffs.

"Only apologize if you didn't mean it," Wade said, his voice too even for what they were doing, what they were becoming. Meanwhile, Peter was breathless and he wasn't even the one doing the fucking. The muscles in Wade's arms were enticingly pronounced from how he was keeping himself just a little aloft, and it looked nice, but Peter wanted Wade's full weight on top of him, making him feel enclosed.

"I mean it," Peter finally remember to reply. "I mean it when I say that I need to touch you now, too. Please, please let me touch. I'm sorry if I wasn't good, I'll make it up to you later, I promise, please, just let me-"

Wade cut off his breathless, rambling, begging with a kiss, but it did nothing to distract Peter from the hand sliding up his arm, feeling out the cuffs, and releasing his wrists. He immediately wrapped his arms over Wade's shoulders, running his hands down his boyfriend's scarred back, aroused by the hard line of muscles shifting with every pull out and push in of Wade's hips.

"Lay on me," Peter breathed, tugging lightly at Wade's back.

"I am," Wade said, sounding amused. The corners of his lips were turned up and he looked so fucking good like this, so self-assured and all Peter's.

Peter shook his head and tugged again. "More."

"Mmm," Wade hummed. His hips paused as his hands pressed to Peter's ribs again, the pressure just short of painful and so so good as Wade pushed his hands up into Peter's armpits, forcing his arms back over his head again. But this time, his hands kept going, past Peter's elbows and wrists until they were palm-to-palm and Wade interlaced their fingers. Wade had to easily weigh at least twice as much as Peter, if not more, his large body all dense muscle, and all that glorious weight finally settled over Peter, pushing down on his chest until he had to concentrate to breathe right. It felt good and right and where Wade belonged. "Like this?"

"Yes, Wade," Peter whispered, testing the restraints against him only to find that Wade easily shifted his weight to compensate and keep Peter down, that no matter how hard Peter tried to lift his arms, to undo the link of their fingers, Wade kept his arms down and their hands together. Yeah, sure, Peter could break the hold and get Wade off of him with no more effort than it took to blink, but that wasn't really the point of it, was it? "Perfect."

"Not as perfect as you, Petey," Wade praised before taking another kiss. A short kiss, that still never seemed to be truly over when Wade leaned their foreheads together and started the smooth rolls of his hips again. Without breaking eye contact.

It wasn't like they hadn't looked each other in the eyes during sex before, but something about how Wade was looking at him right now, how slow and even he was fucking into Peter, made Peter unable to blink. It made his breath stick in his throat no matter how many times he tried to breathe in or out. Just something about it felt like more, like they were ascending their individual selves and merging into one greater being. It was terrifying and electric and not enough and Peter felt tears well up in his eyes from the overload of new and unsure.

"Don't worry, baby boy," Wade whispered, tilting his chin up to kiss the corner of one eye then the other. "You can let go. I won't let you fall."

"I know," Peter whispered back around the lump in his throat. "I know you won't. You never do." He'd always known it, even before, but something about the verbal admission was like letting a weight off his chest. He'd never thought that confessing to Wade would make him feel so much lighter, and he wondered how much longer he would have carried the burden of his emotions before he broke. But because Wade was Wade, because he was always so calm and patient and accommodating for Peter, always giving him the reigns when Peter needed them, taking them into his hands when Peter needed him too, Peter would never find out. If Wade didn't love him so unfailingly, unflinchingly, unconditionally, Peter never would have had the courage to reciprocate. "I know."

Wade stared at him for a moment longer and then kissed Peter, bringing their mouths together without breaking the contact between their foreheads. One hand pulled Peter's arm down with it, bending at the elbow to wrap over the top of his head, the other doing the same right after, until Wade was nearly hugging over Peter's head. It blocked off the light around them, closing Peter in darkness made humid from their breaths.

"Tell me again, Petey," Wade growled into Peter's mouth. That always-familiar, always-welcome tone sent shivers down Peter's spine and made his cock throb with need, trapped between their bellies and massaged by the muscles of Wade's stomach grinding against it. Peter wrapped his legs around Wade's waist, hooking his ankles together at the base of Wade's spine, and Wade's next thrust grazed his prostate, sending a zing up his spine, making Peter shiver, even as he endeavoured to push back into Wade's thrusts. His orgasm had built nearly unnoticed under the flood of emotions that had swamped Peter, but he could feel it now, the heat in his skin and the lava of it in his lower belly, not insistent but ready nonetheless. "Tell me."

"I love you," Peter confessed between harsh kisses, the pace of Wade's hips slowly increasing, making it harder for Peter to keep up his reciprocative efforts. "I love you, Wade Winston Wilson. I love you more than anyone. I love how much you love me and how well you take care of me. I love that I'm yours."

Wade's hum was almost a growl, and Peter half expected a biting kiss, the kind of harsh display of affection that Wade defaulted to when Peter said those kinds of things. Instead, Wade's lips just brushed lightly against his own, and then continued up Peter's face. Butterfly kisses against both eyes and across both cheekbones, and then a continuous one across his hairline and up into his hair before moving down to his ear, where Wade's reciprocation would be most effective.

"I love you," Wade breathed into Peter's ear, and the rush of it made Peter throb through his body, his muscles spasming around the repetitive intrusions of Wade's cock. "I love you, Peter Benjamin Parker." Peter's breath caught in his throat - he'd once thought that he wouldn't be able to handle Wade using his full given name after years of nothing but endearments, but the sound of it here and now, rumbling through his chest, forced Peter into concentrating on not orgasming immediately at the sound of it. "I love you more than anyone. I love how much you love me and how well you take care of me. I love that I'm yours."

"Oh," Peter breathed, surprised by Wade echoing his own words back at him. But more than that, surprised by the way their declarations felt like… like wedding vows. Getting married was never something that Peter dwelled on in the past, and it was much too early to dwell on it now. He'd only just learned how to tell Wade how he felt, and the thought of marriage made his stomach feel weird in a way that had nothing to do with the orgasm coiled low in his belly.

Wade lifted his head again and leaned his forehead against Peter's, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth parted with soft, deep, even breaths across Peter's face. "You're everything to me, Petey," Wade murmured. "You're my Spidey, my sub, my baby boy, my sweetheart. I'd do anything for you."

"Please, please come," Peter rasped, gripping the fingers laced in his tighter. "Please come for me, in me."

A smile curved across Wade's mouth, a gentle thing that had Peter tilting his chin up to taste it. "Yeah? You want me to come in you? Fill you up until you're leaking, until you have to wear that plug of yours to keep me inside?"

Peter's eyelashes fluttered at it, at the thought of carrying Wade's release around, hidden secretly inside him. At the memories of the times he'd done it in the past. "Yes. Please."

"Then I want you to come too," Wade said, his voice taking on a hint of his Dom's command. "I want to feel you coming around me, pulling me tighter inside you, like you can't ever bear to let me go."

"Okay," Peter said nodding. "Okay, please." Wade's hand started pulling away and Peter knew why, knew that it was about to wrap around his cock, but he suddenly couldn't bear the thought of any distance between them, of Wade letting go of his hand, and he tightened his grip. "Stay. Don't let go."

Instead of reprimanding him, or asking him why, Wade continued to be perfect, continued to understand what Peter needed without him having to say it. His pace slowed a little but his thrusts got harder, jarring Peter with every one and making him squeeze his eyes shut against the shocks zipping up his spine. "You wanna come on my cock like a good boy?" Wade growled, his fingers in Peter's tightening, the press of his body over Peter's becoming even denser. "You wanna show me what I do to you, sweetheart?"

"Yes!" Peter gasped, gripping Wade's hands back, just as tight, tightening the wrap of his legs around Wade's waist so much that a part of him, in the back of his mind, worried that he'd break something. "Yes, please Wade! Please-!"

"That's my perfect boy. Show me, sweetheart. Show me how much you love me," Wade practically purred, and the heat of his voice flooded Peter's veins.

He felt like a dimmer switch being turned on, Wade's voice and his own orgasm settling inside of his bones and getting brighter and brighter until he was burning with it, until he was nothing but pleasure and- and- and what Wade wanted him to be. His release was both an explosion and an implosion of his universe, of their relationship, a phoenix going up in flames and being reborn, fresh and new and different but still the same, better.

The gentle rocking motion of his body slowly beckoned him back from his fall, his eyesight clearing from the wash of white slowly, the dark shadows of the room coming into focus. Wade was still above him, still hard inside him, still fucking him, but he'd slowed down into something more leisurely, and he'd shifted just enough that Peter's prostate wasn't being grazed with every thrust of his cock. Still, just feeling him using Peter's body, and the calm, peaceful look on his face as he watched Peter, was intensely arousing, and made Peter shiver under the heat of Wade's body. He looked gorgeous like that, in control and in love, and it only made Peter's chest glow like his heart had been replaced with a mini arc reactor.

He shifted his hands, still laced with Wade's and folded over his head, and Wade immediately let go, though his fingers lingered on Peter's skin as Wade pulled his arms down to brace his elbows on either side of Peter head. Peter let his ankles uncross and his feet fall to the bed even as he wrapped his arms around Wade's ribs, hands attracted to the bunching and relaxing of muscles in his back.

"I love you," Peter whispered, throat feeling raw and his body feeling sore. He really hoped he hadn't been screaming, but he also didn't particularly care right now. He felt relaxed and full, guarded and safe and happy.

Wade's eyes closed for a long moment, the smooth rolls of his hips stuttering and stopping for a moment, before he opened them again and leaned in for a kiss. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that, baby boy," he whispered back.

"I'll never get tired of saying it," Peter returned, running his hands up and down Wade's back. "I'm sorry I took so long to tell you."

Wade shook his head and took another kiss, a longer, slower one. "I didn't mind waiting. I never mind waiting for you, Petey. I knew you were mine from the beginning, I just had to be patient enough for you to see it too. You always come first for me, baby boy."

Peter stared at him for a long minute and then tilted his chin up to kiss him again, addicted to the feel of Wade's mouth. When Wade's hips stuttered, Peter started rolling his, and kept doing it even when Wade broke from the kiss with a low groan. He wouldn't be hard again for a little bit, not with such a mind-blowing orgasm, not with his heart and his soul so satisfied, but Wade could go again and again and again, a fucking Energizer bunny, pun very much intended. And Peter knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't be satisfied with filling Peter up just once or twice.

"I'm tired," he said sleepily, not realizing it until the words were already out of his mouth.

"You want me to stop?" Wade asked, expression clear of anything but concern for Peter. He might have wanted to fuck Peter for hours, but if Peter said 'no', he'd pull out immediately. All Peter had to do was say the word and Wade would heel to his command. Sometimes it felt like Peter was the Dom, with how much power he seemed to hold over Wade, and yet, he remembered what Wade had told him when he first got introduced to BDSM - there was power in giving yourself over to someone else's hands. And Peter had given himself over entirely. Always had.

"No," Peter declined, shaking his head. "Maybe for a sec? So I can roll over?"

"'Course." Wade came to a slow stop and gave Peter's lips a quick peck before he rocked back onto his knees and pulled out.

Peter lay there limply for a moment, his body feeling wonderfully ravished and yet not ravished enough, and then groaned as he slowly rolled onto his side, leaving room at his back for Wade to curl up behind him. The bed shifted, and a moment later, a line of heat was at his back, a line of more intense heat pressing against his ass for a brief second before Wade was pushing inside of him again. Peter's soft moan at being filled was echoed against his neck, and a thick arm wrapped around his waist, pulling his body tightly to Wade's.

"Lift your head, sweetheart," Wade instructed into Peter's hair, and Peter obeyed, giving Wade's other room to drape across the pillow so Peter could rest his head against Wade's shoulder. They rarely ended up fucking like this, mostly because they were too high on adrenaline and lust for slow fucks, but it was honestly one of Peter's favourite positions, feeling Wade wrapped around him.

"Wake me before you have to go?" he asked, laying his hand over the one pressed tight to his belly. It was incredibly poor timing on Peter's part, confessing right before Wade had to leave for a month, a realization that brought his mood down once he remembered, but it hadn't been on purpose either. If it had, he would have waited till Wade came back.

"Don't have to leave 'till evening," Wade replied, tilting Peter just a little forward so he could start pushing his cock into Peter again.

"Good," Peter murmured, his brain already shutting down. "Love you."

"Go to sleep, Petey. I'll be here when you wake up."

Peter fell asleep to the soft rocking and softer pleasure of his boyfriend fucking into him.

Waking up in the warmth of Wade's embrace, connected by the thick length of Wade still in him, was the height of hedonism. Unfortunately, that wasn't why Peter woke up, but he wished it was. Instead, there was a knocking on his front door, and he had to carefully extract himself from Wade's arms. His body was relaxed and didn't want to cooperate, complete opposition to the soreness of his ass, but just like the first time they'd fucked all night a year ago, he didn't mind it one bit. He liked feeling the aftermath of Wade's touch, liked knowing that he'd feel it for days to come, which would be a relief when Wade wasn't nearby anymore.

The knock came again and Peter grumbled his way through the tornado of his bedroom and living room, pausing here and there to pick up his plug, wincing when he pushed it in mostly dry, pulling on his boxers, and covering himself in the comfort of Wade's hoodie. He opened his door feeling drowsy as all hell and wishing nothing more than to go back to bed, and it took his eyes a moment to register who was standing in the hallway. His suddenly wide awake brain immediately tried to slam the door closed, but Peter's common sense halted him before the door had even closed a foot and pulled it back open. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to wrack his mind for why there were cops at his door. Were they here for him? Wade? Did they need directions? Was something wrong with Aunt May?

"Uh, hello?" Peter said intelligently, his fingers white knuckling the door knob out of sight. The other he shoved in the hoodie pocket, where he realized his bare legs were in plain sight and he tried to push the hem of Wade's hoodie down, but it couldn't stretch past where it naturally fell to his thighs.

"Peter Parker?" the larger of the two cops asked in a Boston accent, eyes running down and back up Peter's body. Thankfully, there was no sexual tension to the glance but it still made him uncomfortable.

"Yeah?" he said, shifting and wishing he'd at least grabbed his jeans too.

"Officers O'Neal and de la Cruz, NYPD," the Boston-accented cop said, flashing his badge as his partner did the same. Peter could only nod blankly, waiting for them to get to the point so he could get back into his bed and Wade's arms. "We're following up on a noise complaint from one of your neighbors, and on a few calls into the tipline received yesterday."

"Uh…" Peter had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what kind of tips had been left on their tipline.

"Do you recognize this?" the other officer, de la Cruz, asked, pulling out a photo that looked like a security cam print out. Specifically, of a security camera in one of the subways, because featuring in the photo was Wade's back, and over his shoulder, Peter's face and the edge of Wade's fingers at his neck almost hidden.

"Um, ish?" he said weakly with an equally weak shrug.

"You're not in any trouble, Mr. Parker," de la Cruz continued, tucking the photo away again taking a small step forward, his posture open and non-threatening, like he was approaching a stray dog. His partner, O'Neal, stayed back, his posture more closed up and alert. "There were quite a few people concerned about your safety in regards to your companion."

"Oh! No, that's not-" Peter started, and then cut off and jumped in surprise when two hands curved around his sides to palm his belly and a chin came to rest on his shoulder, lips brushing the sensitive skin under his neck.

"Woke up and you weren't in bed, baby boy," Wade rumbled, voice low and sleep-rough and making Peter shiver as the tone travelled down Peter's spine. "Come back before I gotta leave," he said softly in the low tone of his Dom voice, but without the insistence of an Order.

"'kay," Peter said breathlessly, trying desperately not to get aroused while wearing nothing but his boxers and Wade's sweater in front of two strangers. "Just give me a minute and I'll be back."

"Mmmm," Wade said, voice either sleepy or contemplative, and despite Peter knowing that Wade was never actually sleepy - the man went from 'sleep' to 'awake' quicker than Peter had ever seen - he still had trouble telling which one it was. "What do these tools want?"

Peter's face went up in flames as both cops' eyebrows went up, and Peter reached behind him to shove Wade away. He immediately stepped closer to the door jamb and pulled the door tight against his side, blocking the cops' view into the rest of his apartment.

"Everything's fine, I'm not in any danger, he wouldn't actually hurt me, and I'll- we'll," he corrected, heated face getting even hotter, "be more quiet in the future."

"According to the witnesses, it sounds like your boyfriend there doesn't have any problem hurting you," O'Neal said dryly, eyes fixed on the space above Peter's head like he was expecting Wade to come back and start beating Peter right here and now.

Peter shook his head. "No, he would never hurt me," he insisted. And then the memory of provoking Wade to get the tight wrap of his fingers against his skin came back to him, and Peter ducked his head. "Not in any way that I don't want anyway," he muttered under his breath, his face on fire and his dick threatening to become a fourth member in their weird little conversation. Wade hadn't come back, so Peter touched the tips of his fingers to the sore spots on his throat leftover from Wade's fingers, mouth, or both. "Sorry to make you check this out but I promise I'm safe and all that jazz."

Both cops stared at him for a long moment, then de la Cruz leaned over to whisper in O'Neal's ear, neither of them breaking eye contact which was extremely uncomfortable and made Peter shift in place. He fisted the neck of Wade's hoodie, resting points of his knuckles against his throat. Finally, de la Cruz straightened again and nodded at Peter.

"If anything ever changes," O'Neal said, pulling a card out of his pocket and holding it out to Peter, "you can give me a call anytime." His eyes were strangely intense, and Peter had a feeling, almost at the same level as his Spidey sense, that he wasn't the first suspected domestic violence victim that O'Neal had tried to save. He resolved to look him up for any relative cases as Spider-Man later.

"Thanks," Peter said a bit lamely and then gave a half-assed salute with the business card.

"Have a good day," both cops said in unison, their eyes straying towards the sliver of space over Peter's head before returning to Peter and leaving with a short nod. Peter waited until they hit the end of the hallway before he finally closed the door and sagged against it with a sigh. Well, that was his last morning with Wade for a month ruined.

Hands on his hips flipped him around and he found a naked Wade standing in front of him, and Peter blushed at the realization that Wade had probably come up to the door like that too. Before he could say anything, Wade push-slid him up the door and he yelped in surprise at the sudden change in altitude, and he wrapped his arms and legs around Wade, clinging tightly to him, luxuriating in the feel and heat of his body.

"Good morning, Wade," Peter greeted softly, staring slightly downwards into Wade's face.

"Morning, baby boy," Wade greeted back, just as softly, but with a sharp tilt to his lips that put Peter on edge. "You gonna leave me now and join a battered men's shelter?"

Peter's heart lurched at the thought of leaving Wade, but he forced a week chuckle. "You're stuck with me."

"Mm, I think you're stuck with me, Petey," Wade countered, his grin widening in a way that made Peter even more suspicious. "And," he said as a hand smoothed around the curve of Peter's ass cheek and tugged his boxers down to his thighs, "I think you're about to be stuck by me."

The groan Peter let out was half caused by his plug being pulled out and dropped to the floor, but the other half was definitely because Wade was the cheesiest person he knew. "You're the worst," Peter grumbled, breath catching when two of Wade's fingers prodded at his hole, tugging at his rim.

"Yeah," Wade agreed with a shrug. His fingers left but the head of his cock rested against Peter a moment later, and Peter held his breath, waiting. "But you love it."

"Yeah," Peter whispered as he sunk back down onto Wade's cock. "Yeah I do. I love you more though."

"I know you do, sweetheart," Wade murmured, holding Peter tight down on the full length of his cock "But let's clue your neighbors in and maybe they won't the call the cops on you again."

Peter nodded breathlessly, and fervently hoped the cops weren't lingering nearby, because that look on Wade's face meant that he was planning on making Peter scream. And Peter didn't plan on letting him down.


Chapter Text

The only downside the entirety of their dinner was when Wade had excused himself to take a call and then came back to the table talking about a month-long job that started the next day.

Day 01

"Please don't tell me you're calling from the hallway."

"I miss you already, baby boy."

"You literally left two seconds ago!" [soft laughter]

"How long until I can start missing you then?"

"You have to at least make it to the street first."

[steady breathing, soft thumps] "I miss you already."

"Did you run down the stairs so you can miss me faster?"


"Well, the faster you get to your job, the faster you can come home to me."

"...Send me a picture."

"Why didn't you take one before you left?" [quiet shuffling]

"If I had to look at you looking all fucked out and leaking my come for any longer, I wasn't ever going to make it out the door."

"That explains why you left in a rush." Image sent. "There."

"Fuck, baby boy. You look so good in my hoodie."


"Tell me again?"

"You're going to do this every day, aren't you?"

"Fuck yeah. I'd record it as my ringtone if it didn't make me want to kill anyone who heard it."

"... I love you."


"Hurry home, Wade."

"Your wish is my command, Petey."

Day 02

"I didn't realize how much you've been spending the night with me until I had to sleep alone last night. My heat's on and my bed is still cold."

"Sorry, baby boy. You know I'd be there if I could."

"Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?"

"Yeah. You want me to talk?"

"If you can. I miss your voice."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. Can you tell me first?"

"I love you."

"... Once upon a time, a little spider prince attracted the attention of the kingdom's most dangerous mercenary..."

Day 03

"Jerking off just isn't the same without you."

"Is that what you're doing right now?"

"Well, trying to. Your hand feels better."

"I don't want you to touch yourself while I'm gone."

"At all?!"

"I want to watch you every time you touch your pretty little cock."

"You should get a new phone then."

"No need to pout, baby boy. Trust me."

[sigh] "I always trust you, Wade."


[huff of laughter] "And I always love you, Wade."

"Love you too, baby boy."

Day 04

Accept video call from Wade?

"Oh my god I missed your face. Did you get a new phone or are you borrowing one?"

"Either way, I don't have a lot of time. Show me how you want me to touch you when I get home."

"O-okay." [click-snap] [soft squelching] "Like- li-ike this."

"I could watch you do this forever, Petey. But I don't have the time so show me how pretty you can come for me."

"Wade. Wade. Wade Wade Wade WadeWadeWade-" [low, deep moan]

"Fucking gorgeous sweetheart. Now, tell me what I wanna hear."

"I love you."

"Good boy."

Day 05

"I'm really sorry I love you but I can't talk long I'm at the library finals start Monday and I have to cram all weekend and-"

"Sh sh sh. How much coffee have you had today, sweetheart?"

"Uh… I kinda lost count."

"Tsk tsk. Baby boy. You know better than that."


"No buts. It's late. You still have the whole weekend left to study, there's no need to do it all tonight. Go home, go to sleep, and start again tomorrow."

"...When did you become the voice of reason?"

"When I got a cute baby boy all to myself to take care of."

[sigh] "Fine." [papers shuffling] "I'm at the library and I'm packing up now."

"Don't worry about it, Petey. Don't forget - you're my genius little spider. You've got this."

"Thanks, Wade."

"Anytime, Petey."

Day 06

"Your bed is comfy."

"... I thought you were going home from the library last night?"

"I was going to but I missed you and if I have to be miserable studying without you then I can at least do it from the inside of your comforter."

Accept video call from Wade?

"You just want to see me in your bed, don't you?"

[laughter] "'Course."

"Knew it. Which is why…" [fabric shuffling] "I slept in my birthday suit last night."

"You always sleep naked in other mens' beds?"

"Only the bed of the men I love. Only your bed."

"You know just how to make a man's night, Petey."

Day 07

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: HOLLA ATCHA BOI! Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"I guess you're busy doing whatever it is you're not with me to do. Haven't heard from you all day and I just… I guess I just miss your voice. Love you."

Day 08

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: Peter Parker. Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"Damnit, baby boy, now we're just playing phone tag. I really wanted to hear you after yesterday's… mishap. If you hear about any international explosions on the news, I did not actually start those." [sigh] "I hope you're busy studying and not passed out on your books or swinging around goody-two-shoes-ing. You're going to kick ass tomorrow. "

Day 09

"Hey Petey. First round of finals done and gone?"

"Yes, thank fuck. I think I did good on this one but I'm still paranoid about the last question because my professor is an asshole who thinks he's hot shit and he phrases things weird all the time and ugh."

"You wanna treat?"

"...I'm still at the school."

"Do they have one of those family-slash-all genders bathrooms there?"


"Then go lock yourself in one."

[shoes against tile] [faint conversation] [sound fading] [lock clicking] "Hacker voice: I'm in."

[laughter] "Good." Accept video call from Wade? "Now prop your phone on the sink and pull down your pants. I want to see your face."

"You don't want to watch me…?"

"I am. Now fuck your fist until you come."

"Just like that?"

"Did you want a punishment instead?"

"No! No, um, it's just- okay."

[slick sounds] [soft panting]

"Wade." [panting deepening] "Wade."

"That's it, Petey. Show me what you look like when you come. I haven't seen it in forever."

"You- you saw it-t thisss weekend."

"Mm. Way too long. C'mon baby, come for me."

"Oh my goood…"

"That's my good boy. You feel better?"

"Yes. Thank you, Wade."

"Anytime. Now, hurry on home to study before you undo all that pretty relaxation."

"Yes Wade. I love you."

"I love you, Petey."

Day 10

Image received.

I'm in a final right now you asshole. I think everyone around me just saw your dick.

Then they're probably sitting right next to you seething with envy because this dick is yours and not theirs. They don't get to fuck it and they don't get to suck it.

I love you but I'm not getting a boner during my final. I'll call you later.

lol Okay baby boy.

Day 11

"Oh my fucking god I love you."

"I know you do but this is about the pizzas isn't it."

[muffled garbled speak}

"Have you not been eating again? Petey..."

[gulp] "I have! I have! It's just… I haven't really had time to actually cook anything so I've mostly just been snacking on raw stuff and using that money you left for me - which you didn't have to do, by the way, I do still get paid by the Daily Bugle you know - for like coffee and snacks from the canteen."


"I know, I'm sorry. I promise I'll start eating actual food again when finals are over. Just two more days, Wade."

"Baby boy..."

"I'm sorry…"

"You should have told me sooner. I'll take care of it."

"You don't have to-"

"I'll. Take. Care. Of. It."

"Yes, Wade."

"Now what do you say?"

"I love you."

Day 12

"Jesus fucking fucking pogo stick christ god fucking damn it!"

"Aw shit, did your final go bad?"

"No, I just stubbed my toe walking in the door. I dropped my chemistry textbook here yesterday and I forgot to move it so I wouldn't do this exact thing. Probably scared the shit of of the Thai food guy though."

"Hope that little punk didn't drop your food."

"Oh my god, Wade, you're not threatening these people, are you?"

"Just that one. Tu is a little shit and he deserves to live in fear."

[sigh] "Waaade…"

"I'll have you know I cut down on a lot of the killing since we got together. I know you don't like it and I've been trying to live by the Spidey code."

"You… have?"

"Oh yeah. I've been adapting the Dobby mode of fighting-"


"-and only been killing when there's been no other choice. Or if they killed me first. Pinky promise."

"It means a lot to me, that you've been doing that. Even without telling me. Actually, I think it means more that you've been doing it just because it's the right thing to do. Thank you, Wade."

"No problem, baby boy. I love you. I keep telling you I'd do just about anything for you. It's been a bit of an adjustment, won't lie, there's been some slipups when my temper gets the better of me, but over all, huge improvement."

"I wanna suck you off so bad right now."

[choke] "Fuck, baby boy. You make me wanna bail on this job so bad."

"No, no, don't do that. I'm sorry, I'll be good. And I gotta go study for tomorrow's final too. Last one, thank the gods of academia. Love you."

"Love you too, you teasing little shit."


Day 13

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: HOLLA ATCHA BOI! Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"We're having quite the party and wishing you were here with us, Mr. Wilson!"

"Oh my god, Aunt May, how much have you had to drink?" [crash] "Oh my god Aunt May!" [click]

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: HOLLA ATCHA BOI! Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"Hopefully you haven't listened to the first message yet. Everyone's fine, Aunt May just had too much sherry and fell off her chair."

[muffled in the background] "COME HAVE SOME SHERRY WITH US, MR. WILSON!"

[laughter] "I have never seen her plastered. I'll take videos for you. Hope you're safe. Love you."

Day 14

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: HOLLA ATCHA BOI! Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"I know you're immortal and all that jazz, but we watched that episode of Torchwood, and it's only been a day but you almost never go this long without letting me know what's up. Please don't let this be another accidental off-world thing. I just got used to- Please be safe. I love you."

Day 15

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: HOLLA ATCHA BOI! Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"This is officially me worried, Wade. Please at least send me a text to let me know you're alright. I love you."

Day 16

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: HOLLA ATCHA BOI! Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"I swear to god I will have Tony track you down if you don't-

Accept video call from Wade?

"What. the. fuck. Wade."

"God baby boy it's so good to see your face. I've been staring at nothing but jungle and the ugly mugs I've been rolling with for daaays. I would have called sooner but I had no signal and SOMEONE who shall not be named - ALEJANDRO - fucking broke the satellite phone. I'm sorry I made you worried, I'm fine, I promise. Whole and hearty and healthy."

[relieved sigh] "That's- that's good. I'm still a little mad at you."

"I know, I'm sorry, sweetheart. You don't look well, you okay?"

"I've been feeling a little off the last few days. Kinda like uh… drop? Subdrop?"

"Yeah? Where you at now? My place?"


"You wearing one of my hoodies?"

"Yes, Wade."

"Good boy. Now, grab my comforter and a pillow, and drag em out to the living room. K, and I want you to kneel by either the chair or the couch, wrap my comforter around you, lean your head on the arm, and put that pillow on top of your head. … Don't give me that look, just do it, you'll see."


"You comfy?"

"Yeah, actually."

"Good. Now I want you to close your eyes and pretend that that pillow on your head is my hand. You might have to super-activate your imagination station, but I want you to try to imagine you're kneeling at my feet and my hand's in your hair."

"Yes, Wade."



"How's that?"

"Not as good as if you were here but it's helping. Thank you."

"As soon as I get back, I'm going to take you down."

"Mmm 'kay. That sounds good."

"You wanna take a nap?"

"Can you stay on?"

"Sorry, sweetheart, I can't guarantee I'll be on when you wake up."

"It's fine. Just… if you can stay on as long as possible. I just really miss you."

"I know, Petey. I miss you so fucking much. I've almost bailed on this at least twice a day since I walked out your door."

[tired laughter] "Love you."

"Love you too, Petey. Get some sleep. Gotta be rested for your graduation tomorrow."

Day 17


"Alright Mr. Wilson, we're almost to our Peter. His uncle would have been so proud, and I know how proud you are too. Peter and I are sorry you couldn't be here for this. Peter's told me how much you've helped him the last few years, and I can see you're a wonderful influence on him. He's never been so happy or so relaxed since his uncle passed when he was in high school. You two really love each other and it's so wonderful to see. Oh! Oh! He's next!"


[polite clapping] [feet stomping] "Oh, I would clap right now but I can't let you miss him! Look how big he's smiling! Aw, my handsome little boy is all grown up. He's going to do amazing things for the world, I just know it."

Day 18



"What were you wearing under your graduation robe?"

"What do you mean?"

"Baby boy, if you don't think I can't notice when you're walking different, even over a recorded video, then you underestimate how much I've been watching you over the years. What. Were. You. Wearing?"

"Jeans and a t-shirt."

"Mhm. And what else?"


"What else, baby boy?"


"Hm? What was that?"

"You know exactly what that was."

"Maybe. But tell me again, just in case."

"I was wearing your ropes."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"


"Not as hard as you're about to be, anyway."


"Yeah. You got my club bag near you?"

"Uh, yeah, here."

"I want you to pull out the curved vibrator and and I want you to sit on it. And I do mean sit. Or kneel. Right there on the floor. And I want you to rock on it until you come."

Video calling Wade… "Like this?"

"Mmm fuck yeah, baby boy. Just like that."

[soft moan] "I love the way you watch me."

"Good, because I love watching you, Petey."

Day 19

"You're calling super early. Or late, depending on how you look at it. Surprised you're still up, Petey."

"Well, college is done and I'm job hunting for something that will let me use my degrees so might as well go back to full-time crime-fighting in the interim. I've been slacking on my Spidey duties the last few weeks cuz of finals."

"I don't think you know how to slack off. Jack off, sure, under my supervision, but slack of? Mm-mm, don't believe it."

"Well, believe it or not, I have. Some jackass in a mechanized rhino suit has been running around and turning bank walls and vault doors into rubble so he can rob them. I had to ignore him during finals but I have time now so I'm gonna put a stop to that."

"Alternatively, you could just wait a week and let me kill him."

"No killing, Wade."

[dramatic sigh] "Fiiine. Go get your bad guy the good guy way. Be safe, have fun, make good choices."

[fond laughter] "Same goes for you, Wade. I love you."

Day 20

"Okay so I broke that jackass' rhino armor and gave him over to the police, but he also broke my leg. I'm stuck in bed all day to let it heal."

"Are you absolutely sure you won't let me kill him?"

"No, Wade. Besides, he's in prison."

"I'm a little insulted that you think I can't eliminate an imprisoned target."

"My deepest apologies, my universally-renowned assassin. I shan't underestimate your abilities again."

"Good. Now, in light of recent injuries and bed-ridden-ness, how would you like to do a little cyber mutual masturbation?"

"You mean I can watch you get off too?"

"If you want to."

"Yes please. By all means, my love, show me what to do."

"You know what that does to me, Petey."

"I know."

Accept video call from Wade?

Day 21

"So, I was super bored and I was looking for some new sexual positions and I think we should try this next."

Image received.

"I love you but no. I know I'm flexible but I'm not Reed Richards."

Day 22

"When you get back, can we do this again?"

Image sent.

"You wanna 69 again? Yeah, we can do that. I'll never say no to having your ass in my face."

"Oh my god."

"But after that, we're going to work our way through the Kama Sutra one page at a time. I'm pretty sure we can complete it."

"I don't think it was intended to be used like that."

"So you don't wanna try it?"

"...I wanna try it."

"That's my baby boy." [distant gunshots] "Woops, gotta go. Love you."

"Love you."

Day 23

"Ugh. Can't you make time speed up?

[laughter] "I could probably find a way. Why?"

"Could you really?"

"Baby boy, I've got a teleporter belt that can take me to alternate universes, and you doubt my ability to affect time?"

"Okay, fair."

"But why do you want me to speed up time?"

"The beginning of the month went by so fast and now it's taking forever for you to come back home."

"I could just come back home now."

"But then you'd be breaking your contract or whatever."

"I know you don't wanna know anything about what I do, but I am one of the best at it, and people will pay for my talents. I get bad reviews all the time and I'm still getting more jobs than I could take, even if I cared about all of them."

"Really? How come you're not always taking calls then?"

"They go through an agency first. It's a long thing. It only gets to me if my manager thinks I'll want it."

"... The mercenary business is more professional than I thought it would be."

"Petey, I am straight up A-class. Everyone wants a piece of this fancy pie, but the only one that gets a piece free of charge is you, Petey-pie. Now how 'bout we fuck to pass the time."

"You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

Day 24

[feminine robot voice] "You have reached the voicemail box of: HOLLA ATCHA BOI! Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEP"

"I'm going to hang out with Aunt May today. Maybe she'll be able to distract me from the slowest week on the planet. I miss you. I love you. Can't wait until you come home."

Day 25

Video calling Wade…

"Whatcha got there, baby boy?"

"Saw this in a store window on my way back from Aunt May's. I liked the way it looked and I hoped you might wanna see me fuck myself with it."

"Have you taken it yet?"

"Not yet. I wanted you to watch. Can I?'

[shuffling] "Yeah, yeah you can. Let me see you take it, Petey."

[hiss] "It's cold."

"Glass will do that when you put it in a freezer. Did you put in a freezer?"

"I wanted to see what it would feel like."

"And how does it feel?"

"Thick, heavy, cold. It feels good. Not as good as you, but it'll do in a jam. The octopus ring bumps make it feel more like your cock then the plain, silicone dildos."

"Is that why you bought it? Because it reminded you of me?"

"Y-yeah. It uh- uh- unnngh…. I feels like i haven't been fucked in forever. Every part of me misses you."

"I can see that. Your ass around that dildo looks just like when you're trying to keep me inside."

"Feels like it too. Makes me wanna come."

"Yeah? Show me how good you can fuck yourself and then you can come."

[squelch] "Like." [squelch] "This? [squelch]

"Just like that sweetheart. Fuck you look so good."

"Feels like you're fucking me and it's driving me crazy."

"You know what'll drive you even crazier?"


"I want you to fuck yourself with that dildo, and only that dildo, in order to come. No hands."

"Hnnngh. That's mean Wade. That's so-O mean."

"Is it? I bet I can make you come just like you are now."

"HOw- how's that?"

"By telling you how much of a perfect baby boy you are for me. By telling you how much I've missed my sweetheart and how I've fucked my fist every day, thinking about you. By dreaming about you when I go to sleep and hallucinating coming back home when I've been up for three days straight."

"Oh- oh- oh- oh-"

"By telling you that as soon as I get home, I'm going to tie you to your bed and fuck you for two days straight until you've come so much that your spine feels like it's not going to work."


"Fuck, I love your face when you come. It's the kind of face people learn how to paint for."

"My face isn't that-"

"Petey, your face when you come is what I think heaven would look like if it existed."

"Oh. Thank you."

"No, Petey. Thank you."

[laugh] "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"More than anything."

Day 26

"What's up, Petey?"

"Just got an all-hands-on-deck call from the Avengers. Apparently a bunch of trees in Central Park have started walking around."

"Ooh, Ents!"

[laughter] "Exactly. They've been giving the regular Avengers trouble though so I don't know how long I'll be. Maybe it'll make the next few days pass by faster."

"I'm so fucking beyond ready to come home, baby boy."

"I know. Same. I miss you more every day. I gotta go now though. I love you."

"Go kick some Ent ass, baby. Love you."

Day 27

"How'd the Entmoot go?"


Day 28

"Still warring with Ents?"

"Thank fuck, no. It took two days but we got them all and we're burning them for good measure. Central Park is going to need a grass doctor or a druid or something after this."

"What's the plan now?"

"Well, usually after I fight with the Avengers, we do a movie night at the Tower afterwards."

"At Avenger Tower? The Tower Formerly Known As Stark Tower?"


"What if I said you should try to get here at least half an hour before anyone else?"

"... Wade."

"Yeah, baby boy?"

"Are you back?"

"Yeah, baby boy."


"Mhm. So you better hurry."

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod you're finally back!"

[laughter] "I'm finally back, Petey."

"Okay. Okay, um- let me let someone know I'm leaving and I'll be right there."



"What do you say?"

"...I love you, Wade."


"Yes, Wade."