In the sparse light that shone into their bedroom from the city outside, Peter looked up from his pillow. He’d just let himself fall on the matress after what was probably the most intense orgasm of his life.
In fact, he might’ve passed out for a few seconds from the sheer pleasure.
Now he was looking at Wade, who lay panting beneath him, his naked body still spread out on the bed, chest heaving. Some of the more prominent scars stood out in the light and Peter couldn’t help but stare.
He didn’t mean to be rude, but he was just so fascinated by all the patterns that were drawn on his lover’s chest. They’d been together for over three years now, even living together, and the Merc didn’t mind being seen so often as at the start of their relationship.
Secretly, Peter had never liked it when Wade hid from him like he was some kind of abomination that should never be seen. He would never take his shirt or hoodie off in front of him, never even leave the bathroom undressed after a shower, or leave the blankets bunched up at the foot of the bed like he did now.
The older man was stretched out on the bed, fully relaxed, head resting on his arms. There was a very satisfied smile on his lips and he chose just to let his eyes stay shut for a while. Peter understood the unspoken invitation and scooted closer, placing his head on the other man’s shoulder. Instantly a muscled arm moved behind him and he was pulled in a light, carressing embrace.
Peter’s eyes travelled down the naked form of his lover again, he watched how the scars and bumps moved with his skin. Sometimes he would see a scar on Wade’s neck dissappear and another show um somewhere else, and it was the most interesting thing he’s ever witnessed.
But he also knew very well how much the scars hurt his boyfriend sometimes, not only phisically, so he always made sure to show him how much he loved him, everything of him.
Wade twitched when Peter placed his hand gently on his naked chest. He was mindful not to scratch there, because just yesterday the Merc had compained about one of the bumps there being very sore. But today it didn’t look so irritated anymore, so the younger man stroked carefully over the sternum upwards, letting his fingertips roam over the slightly outstanding scars.
He could actually feel Wade’s heart speeding up a bit but wasn’t so sure wether it was with anxiety or arousal. So he decided to keep going until Wade said something.
When his carressing fingers had reached Wade’s throat he began to look at the criss-crossing patterns the scars provided in more detail. Then he saw one that just began under Wade’s ear and laid the tip of his index finger on it, making the older man jump.
Slowly he followed the reddened line with his finger down towards the collarbone, where he found a crossing scar that he traced along. It felt like he was mapping his lover’s strong body, wandering along all the roads that Wade’s life had taken, all the pain and sorrow, all the wrong decisions.
He wanted to redraw them, make them something associated with this moment, their lovemaking just moments ago, the muffled sounds and dim lights of the traffic outside, the warm, loving slide of skin against skin, two naked bodys close together.
Now his fingers were in the middle of Wade’s chest again, right over his heard where he followed a shockingly long line. It went in a little zigzag down to his ribs, where Peter carefully stroked his palm over some bumps created by the healing factor constantly fighting the cancer cells. Another scar went across his stomach and vanished into the belly button, and Peter smiled at the way Wade’s abs would tremble as he traced it.
From there he let his fingers stoke further to the side and then down over a wider scar that usually disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
Now that they were both still naked though, Peter let his hand travel further down and a smile tugged on his lips as he noticed him getting hard again.
Before he could do anything more, Wade caught his wrist and pulled his arm away so that Peter was dragged on top of Wade’s body.
“Another round?” he asked, voice raspy and deep that it made Peter shiver, but he also heard a bit of nerves tugging at his boyfriend.
Peter giggled softly, but honestly tried to move a little to check himself for signs of soreness. “You practically invite me here,” Wade mentioned cheekily and looked at him with an excited shimmer in his eyes and a challenging grin on his lips.
Peter met his gaze and eventually nodded.
“But I ... I want to see you,” he said and Wade instantly looked away. A crease appeared between where his eyebrows would be while he eyed the blanket. Before he could say anything Peter framed the marred face with his hands, running the pad of one thumb over Wade’s lips. “Please.”
With a heavy sigh, Wade let himself drop down onto Peter, who yelped, but slung arms and legs around him to trap him.
”The things I do for you, webhead,” he whined, but he started grinding against Peter.
“Like grabbing the lube?” the younger man proposed and smiled when Wade laughed. With a heavy groan he put all his weight on top of Peter and rolled over him several times before he grabbed the bottle – that was actually an easy reach.
They joked around a little, poking and tickling each other until Wade grabbed Peter’s legs and gave them a rough shove to bend the knees. Then his eyes took on a very serious look, allthough his smile just faltered a little.
The young hero reached up and placed his hands on Wade’s bare chest again, right on the worst bundles of scars. The Merc gasped and looked down, then looked away again as if he couldn’t take the sight of Peter’s hands on his body. To distract him from his thoughts – which were probably going in all the wrong directions – Peter wiggled his hips and let Wade’s cock slide between his cheeks.
That seemed to break him out of his thought because he zeroed in on Peter like there was nothing else in the world. The younger man grinned up and Wade laughed darkly before lubing himself up with quick, jerky movements.
Peter looked between them and bit his lip in anticipation when the Merc lined up. A scar on Wade’s abdomen moved with his muscles as he pushed in and Peter shuddered with oversensitivity.
It was so good and way too much at the same time and his eyes drifted shut.
”Need a minute?” Wade whispered and made him shiver again when rough, strong hands held on to his legs. But he shook his head quickly, he would most likely pass out if Wade stayed still any longer. The first pull and push of Wade inside him set off fireworks in his brain and the next had him gripping the sheets.
He knew there was no way he was going to last long, so he just held on for dead life as Wade started to pound into him, finding a pace of languid thrusts that made Peter’s head spin and toes curl with every nudge to his prostate.
With desperate determination he kept his eyes open, watching as the other man moved into him, observing how the light playes on the scarred skin, setting different accents with every shift of muscle.
God, he loved this. He would never tire to watch Wade like this.
The bed started to creak under them and thudded against the wall, but Peter couldn’t have cared less. He was sure he wouldn’t even notice if their whole block was on fire. It wasn’t only the overload his nerves had to suffer, but the absolutely, perfectly imperfect figure of Wade in the dim light almost shut down his bain.
He wasn’t even surprised by how quickly he reached his breaking point, feeling every muscle tighten up.
Peter’s body started to buck and jolt uncontrolled and he hissed, suddenly every sensation raging even stronger through him. It took one more thrust for him to arch off the matress and scream while desperately gripping onto Wade’s thighs.
His body couldn’t even give anything anymore, but he still shuddered violently as he came dry.
Panting heavily and with a sheen of sweat on his forehead, Wade stilled over him, but Peter pulled at his hips, urging him forward even through the last of the aftershocks.
“No, move, move!” he demanded, voice raspy. Wade groaned and his thrusts got deeper and faster.
Tears welled up in Peter’s eyes because every nerve in his body seemed raw and was still assaulted by Wade. He whimpered, his nails dug into Wade’s arms and shoulders until the Merc bent down and pulled him in a tight embrace.
He thrust harder still and huffed fast little breaths against Peters throat that felt like they were burning him. The younger man roamed his hands over the scarred body, feeling the texture of every bump with his palms, just relishing in the rough skin in comparison to the impossibly loving, gentle kisses the Merc was peppering his neck with.
“Oh God ... W-Wade ...,” he whispered and turned his head a little so that his lips were at the Merc’s ear. “I love you.”
Wade groaned like he’d been punched in the stomach, and slapped a hand on the headboard of the bed to steady his last few, almost brutally strong thrusts. Peter cried out again, too overwhelmed to even think anything, when Wade stuttered out a moan and pulsed hotly inside him.
Wade panted and moaned like a marathon runner, but actually was mindfull enough to immediately pull out and let himself fall on the matress without squishing Peter underneath him.
“I ... I don’t think I’ll ever walk again ...,” Peter slurred and laughed as Wade rolled over instead and put his arm over Peter’s stomach. Usually it was the younger man who cuddled up like this.
“Well, y’know I’d carry you everywhere.”