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Wade was bored. He was tired of being alone. Well, sort of alone. He threw another knife at the ceiling, just to see if it would stick. It did, just like the dozen or so already up there. Even that game was old. He let his head fall back, trying not to think about a certain superhero and his perfect bubble butt. Spidey could stick to ceilings. He sighed. He didn’t even need the boxes to tell him how pathetic that was. He was. Whatever.
An indefinite amount of time later, Wade honestly wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep or just spaced out, Wade heard his bedroom window slide open. Maybe this wasn’t going to be the most boring Christmas Eve ever. He lived on the eighth floor, and he would have heard someone coming up the fire escape, which really narrowed down the list of possible visitors.
Still, Wade wasn’t going to assume it was someone he welcomed just dropping by. He stood up and moved quietly towards the bedroom, pulling a knife out of the ceiling as he went. He wanted it to be Spidey, but he was going to yell if his baby boy had gone roaming through the city. Super strength wouldn’t keep him from catching a virus.
He pulled up short in the doorway when he saw a kid crawling through the window after a battered backpack he had clearly just dropped on the floor. Wade tilted his head, and watched his burglar glance around the room, seeming completely unfazed by the small arsenal scattered over the dresser and nightstand. He was slender, with messy brown hair that made him look like he had recently been thoroughly fucked. At least he was wearing a mask. Definitely wouldn’t want to catch covid-19 while out breaking into places.
While Wade was considering how to announce his presence to his oblivious intruder, the kid turned around to close the window, and holy jeebus, Wade knew that ass. He would recognize that ass anywhere. He had dreams about that ass. “Baby boy,” he shrieked, flinging out his harms, sending the entirely unnecessary knife flying away.
Spidey, because this adorable twink with the curls and oh jesus those eyes wtf he was an adorable rabbit companion away from being Bambi wait where was he? The author must be tired to spit out that trainwreck of a sentence. Anyway! Spidey watched as the knife sank to the hilt in the wall, sighed, then turned back to him. “Really, Wade? Were you really going to stab someone on Christmas?”
Wade drew himself up to his full height, sticking out his chest. “People who climb into the bedroom windows of strangers don’t not deserve to be stabbed just because it’s Christmas!” He was building up for a full tirade when Spidey pulled off his mask, where those beakers all over it? Wade looked back up and stopped short, gaping. He knew his mouth was hanging open in a really unattractive way, but he couldn’t seem to do anything but stare. His baby boy was beautiful, almost unfairly so, with his doe eyes and his sex hair and his mouth, and really his everything.
Spidey rolled his eyes, so, OK, he apparently said all that out loud. It was fine though, everything was fine. “I don’t know why you’re talking about me when you’re the one with those cheekbones and those eyes and that fucking jaw,” Spidey said faintly, kind of flapping his hand at Wade. Boy was he awkward out of the suit, all pink and flustered.
Wade was so caught up watching him that the words didn’t register immediately. He froze when he realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. He yanked his hood up, turning away. “What are you doing here, baby boy,” he asked, hoping to distract them both. “There’s a pandemic on. It’s not safe to be out.”
Spidey advanced determinedly. “Merry Christmas,” he said, slapping a piece of paper against Wade’s chest. “I brought tequila and tacos,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.
Wade looked at the paper. It was a negative covid test result for a Parker, Peter B. It took a minute for him to make the connection. He blamed the baby deer eyes. “Wait,” he yelled, exploding out of the room and into the living room. “Your name is Peter,” he asked, skidding to a halt.
“No, I just handed you some rando’s test results,” Peter said from the kitchen. Wade could hear the eye roll. There was the sass he was used to.
“You’re adorable,” he shrieked, darting around the corner for a hug, and, definitely, a handful of that booty. He was stopped before he got there when Peter planted his hand firmly in the center of Wade’s chest. “Aww,” he whined, “it’s Christmas!”
“Food first,” Peter said sternly.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you said first”, Wade called, obediently skipping towards the couch.
Peter came around into the living room area. “Are those safe up there,” Peter asked, eyeing the ceiling knives.
“Oh sure, they’re embedded pretty deep,” Wade said cheerfully, making grabby hands at the plates in Peter’s hands. Peter put one of them on the coffee table and handed him the other. Wade grabbed a taco and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed quickly. “Where are these from, they’re amazing,” he paused to yell before shoving the other half in his mouth.
“Jesus christ, Wade, I’m right here,” Peter said, walking back from the kitchen. He was grinning though, so he wasn’t mad. He handed Wade a drink, sitting down and picking up his own plate. “I made them,” he said, then bit into one apparently unaware that he had just upended Wade’s entire worldview.
“You made me tacos,” Wade said, sending bits of lettuce and crumbs flying.
“Gross,” Peter commented, nudging a cup towards Wade. “Margaritas too. It seemed appropriate.”
Wade stared. He carefully put his plate down. Standing quickly, he yanked a knife out of the ceiling and stabbed himself. “Fucking hell,” he said, starting at Peter, who had jumped back. Wade couldn’t really tell what he was saying through the static in his brain. “You’re real. This is real,” he said. He had been certain he was hallucinating.
“You absolute fucker, of course I’m real!” Sound returned in time for Wade to hear as well as see Peter yelling. He seemed upset.
Wade yanked out the knife, carelessly grabbing a t-shirt off the floor to wipe it down. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had to make sure. I’ll heal. Basically there already.” He stared at Spidey who was apparently actually feeding him homemade food on Christmas.
Spidey sighed. “You know I don’t like it when you get hurt,” he said. He motioned towards the food. “It’s Christmas. Stop stabbing yourself and eat.” He flashed a cheeky grin. “You’ll need the energy to at least try to beat me at Mario Kart.”
“Oh, it’s on, baby boy,” Wade cried, throwing himself back on the couch. He picked up his drink, throwing half of it back in one go. He jerked back upright, staring first at the cup, then longingly at the ceiling knives, then at Peter. “This has real juice,” he said, shocked.
Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to bring a shitty margarita mix on Christmas, what kind of person do you think I am?”
“I don’t know,” Wade said softly, still staring.
Peter rolled his eyes, knocking his knee against Wade’s, and when had he gotten so close? “Eat your tacos,” he said, shoving one in his own mouth.
Wade ate his tacos, but he kept glancing over at the other man, all through the tacos, and several games of Mario Kart. He kept losing because his mind was trying to come to terms that Spidey, who was super pretty as well as hot, was voluntarily spending Christmas Eve with him. Not only that, he had made him tacos. He had juiced fruit!
He jumped when Peter tossed his controller on the coffee table and turned towards him. “Hey, Wade,” he said, looking serious. Well, as serious as the human embodiment of a woodland creature could anyway. “It’s past midnight. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Wade said, vaguely aware that he was stumbling over the words, but he still couldn’t believe any of this was happening.
He watched as Peter drew closer, telegraphing his movements, but utterly confident. “I’d like to kiss you,” Peter said. “May I kiss you?”
Wade felt his jaw drop. He didn’t even care that the author had pulled out that cliche, he couldn’t think of anything better for that moment either. “I, but, I mean...why?” He really was stammering now.
Peter ducked his head, looking uncertain for the first time all night. “I just really want to, OK?”
Wade nodded dumbly. “OK. You want to kiss me. Spidey wants to kiss me. You look like a debauched Disney prince and you want to kiss me,” he babbled, cutting off with a sharp breath when Peter wrapped his hand around the back of Wade’s neck, angling his head down. Wade appreciated that he didn’t try to pull down the hoodie, then even that thought was gone when Peter leaned up and brought their lips together.
At first he was gentle, just sliding their lips together, as if he knew how nervous Wade was and wanted to reassure him. When Wade moaned a little in the back of his throat, not truly meaning to, that all changed. The grip on his neck shifted to something much more demanding, and Peter took advantage of his gasp, licking straight into his mouth, but not over his teeth why did some authors write that it was weird. Peter bit his lip, and Wade’s attention snapped back to what really mattered, which was that Spidey was kissing him.
Peter shifted, swinging one leg gracefully over Wade, coming to rest on his lap. Holy shit, Spidey was in his lap. He groaned when the smaller man pushed his shoulders against the back of the couch. Wade knew he hadn’t used even a fraction of his strength, but he moved him more easily than anyone had been able to in years. It was hot as hell.
Peter swiveled his hops down, grinding their pelvises together, holding Wade’s head exactly where he wanted him. It took a second for Wade to realize the opportunity that was, quite literally, in his lap. Not entirely believing it, he brought his hands up to Peter’s waist, slid them down over his hips, and finally, finally got his hands on that glorious ass. It was even better than he dreamed, and oh how he’d dreamed. When he kneaded it and Peter gasped, pushing back into Wade’s hands, he was pretty sure he hadn’t stabbed himself hard enough, because there was no way this was happening.
Peter’s teeth resting on his lower lip snapped him back to the present, just as Peter bit him hard. “Pay attention,” Peter said against his mouth in just the hottest, most demanding voice unlike anything Wade had ever heard him use. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, biting Wade’s lip again, then swiping his tongue over it to take away the sting.
He leaned back, which had the extremely pleasant side effect of pressing his ass more firmly into Wade’s hands. When Wade tried to lean forward and chase his mouth, Peter stopped him with a hand on his chest. “I want to fuck you,” he said, or at least that’s what it sounded like he said, but that couldn’t possibly be right.
Wade stared at his best friend. His best friend who turned out to be beautiful and was currently sitting in his lap. His beautiful best friend who just said he wanted to fuck him. The boxes were screaming so loudly in his head it was just white noise.
He realized he hadn’t moved other than to tighten his hands on Spidey’s ass when the other man leaned in, kissing along his jaw to his ear. “C’mon, Wade. Let me fuck you. I bet you’re so tight. You talk about my ass, but you have to know what yours looks like in those suits.” Peter punctuated his words with kisses to Wade’s neck and the sensitive skin behind his ear.
“This is going to hurt so much when we wake up,” Wade said, voice not sounding half as wrecked as he felt.
He jumped when Peter bit his neck seriously fucking hard, hand flying up to cover it. Peter caught his hand and brought it to rest over his heart. He brought his other hand to Wade’s jaw, angling his head so they were making eye contact. Those Bambi eyes looked so serious and a little sad. “You are awake, Wade Winston Wilson. I’m right here, and this is happening. I am in your lap, and I want to fuck you. I’m so hard just thinking about getting to put my cock in your ass and the sounds you’ll make. I’m here because I want you and I have for years. You’re my best friend, and I want you. There are probably some other things I need to say, but for right now? I just want you. So, please Wade, if you want me, please don’t stop because of your fears. Please let us have this.”
Peter’s voice and words held a lot of things Wade wasn’t up for unpacking, at least not right now. Mostly though, they held honesty and sincerity. Wade wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky that someone like Spidey would call him his best friend, let alone want him, but he was going to go with it. He leaned his head a little more firmly into the hand Peter had on his jaw, and nodded. “Yes.”
Peter moved his hands to Wade’s shoulders, and leaned in to kiss Wade again, with all of the uncertainty and most of the sweetness of their earlier kisses replaced with pure, filthy desire and promise. Wade went from merely turned the fuck on to oh god I’m dying desperately hard, leaking precome everywhere. When Peter pushed his hand into the waistband of his sweats and wrapped it around his cock, Wade yelled and bucked upwards, hands clenching in a way he was sure left finger-shaped bruises on Peter’s slender hips. The smaller man didn’t seem to care, gripping Wade’s cock and stroking it, using the wetness to ease the friction. In practically no time, Wade felt his orgasm barreling down on him, which was of course exactly when Peter turned his hand away. Wade started to say something devastating and witty to get him to just touch him again, he wasn’t above begging either. To his horror, all that came out was a very loud, completely unintelligible whine.
Peter just laughed brightly, and hopped off his lap. He walked towards the bedroom, and there was no way he wasn’t doing that thing with his hips on purpose. Damn, that goddamn ass. He must have made some kind of noise, because Peter looked back and asked, “do you want to keep staring at my ass, or do you want me to fuck yours?” He laughed at whatever he saw on Wade’s face. “First, Wade. What do you want to do first? I know what my healing factor does to my refractory period, and can guess at yours, but right now I really, really want to see you on my cock.” With that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving Wade to scramble after him at a speed he usually reserved for times involving far more weapons and mortal danger than this.
Peter caught him at the doorway. He fisted his hand in Wade’s hoodie. “I want to see all of you, but,” his voice getting louder when Wade flinched back, crowding him against the wall. “It’s more important to me that you feel good and aren’t stressed. I haven’t seen anything that bothers me, except for how unfair your cheekbones are, fucking hell, but how many clothes you have on is entirely up to you.” He slid a hand around and pinched Wade’s ass hard enough to make him jump. “Just as long as I get to have you.”
Without further discussion, he kissed Wade hard until his head was spinning. When he pulled back, Wade was basically only upright because he was trapped between Peter and the wall. He started to sag a little when Peter stepped backwards. Wade just watched in awe as he started taking his clothes off. His movements were casual, like he was just getting ready for bed, but his face was pink and his eyes...his eyes were burning.
With a wink, he pulled his boxers down, kicking them to the side. He stood, arms akimbo, while Wade looked his fill of all that pale skin and all those lean muscles and long, strong lines. Wade finally let his eyes come to rest on Spidey’s absolutely glorious dick. It was long and thick, and Wade couldn’t wait to have it inside him. “Proportionate what of a spider,” he said inanely.
Peter laughed, then rolled his eyes as he walked towards Wade. “That doesn’t make any sense, no, do not try to explain it. Just...come here. I want to kiss you. Wade nodded, then stripped his hoodie off before he lost his nerve. It left his torso in only a t-shirt. He braced himself for Peter’s reaction. He wasn’t expecting Peter to grab a handful of his shirt and pull him forward, grab his ass with his other hand, and pull until their bodies were pressed together from top to bottom with only a thin layer of fabric between them. “You are so unbelievably hot,” he said, stretching up to reach Wade’s lips, then took his mouth in a searing kiss that left them both gasping.
By the time he pulled back, Wade was harder than he had ever been, and too far gone to care how he sounded when he whined. “Shh,” Peter said, nipping at his mouth. “I’ve got you. Lube and condoms?”
“Nightstand,” Wade said, surprised by how gravelly his voice was just from kissing.
Peter pulled them out and put them on the bed, then looked back to where Wade was frozen in place, struggling to believe this was really happening. “What position will be best for you,” Peter asked.
“Oh, you know, whatever you want, I’m flexible, although not as flexible as you, I mean…”
Wade cut off abruptly when Peter leered at him. Somehow the Disney prince face made it even more effective. “Oh, Wade, I want you in every way and every position either of us can think of and more,” and wow, that was a lot, Wade was pretty sure some drool was escaping the corner of his mouth. Peter kept talking, gentler now. “I know you’re worried about your skin. Is there something that will help you feel more comfortable?”
Wade thought about it. He wanted to see Spidey’s face, but he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he saw disappointment or, worse, disgust and rejection. “Hands and knees,” he said.
Peter sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m really not going to last long,” he laughed, although he sounded flatteringly breathless.
“Good thing we have healing factors then,” Wade joked, trying to distract himself from how good this felt already so he didn’t utterly disgrace himself.
He settled on the bed on his knees, face resting on his forearms.
Peter moved behind him, running a hand from the nape of his neck, all the way down his spine, and over his ass. “You feel so good, Wade.” He reached out and tucked his fingers under the waistband of Wade’s sweats, then stayed still. It took a second for it to register that he was checking in, waiting for Wade to say he was OK, this was OK. “Please, baby boy,” he said. Peter pulled his sweats down to his thighs, making sure his dick didn’t get caught in the fabric. When he wrapped his hand around it, they both moaned. “Holy shit, Wade, you are like, unfairly hot,” Peter sighed. Wade snorted, but ended up moaning instead of giving the answer that deserved when Peter bit his ass. Hard. Peter kissed the injured skin lightly. “Just thought I would take this rare chance to stop you from saying something stupid,” he snarked, but underneath it, he sounded...fond?
Wade heard the snap of the lube being opened, then Peter’s slick finger gliding over his hole, not really applying pressure yet. Just testing things out. Wade let himself relax into it as Peter carefully pushed in his finger. “You won’t break me,” he muttered under his breath, forgetting about Peter’s enhanced hearing until he laughed. “There’s more than one way to break a person,” he said, sliding in a second finger and crooking them both just right to make Wade swear loudly. “I bet I could make you come from just my fingers. Someday I will, but right now I need you to relax so I can get my dick in you like we both want,” he said, working his fingers in Wade’s ass.
After seven lifetimes and so much lube, Peter finally reached for the condom. Wade had been ready for ages, kickass healing fact, right? Mr “I’m not going to hurt you, Wade, shut the fuck up or I’ll slow down” Spider-Man back there insisted on moving at a snail’s pace. Wade could appreciate being edged, but he wanted Peter to fuck him into the mattress. “You’d better not keep trying to treat me like a delic-- FUCK! ” Wade wheezed into the pillow his face was smashed in. The one he’d collapsed into when Peter pushed in and bottomed out in a single stroke.
“You were saying,” Peter said smugly from the vicinity of Wade’s shoulder, his hands on Wade’s hips being the only thing keeping Wade from being flat on the bed. Wade somehow managed to move enough to flip him off. Peter laughed. “Hang on,” he said cheerfully, then proceeded to disprove any misguided notions that he didn’t know exactly how much Wade could take, because that man’s cock in his ass was a goddamn Christmas miracle. “Oh my god, Wade, you’re such an idiot,” Peter said, but he was laughing and his hand was tight on Wade’s cock, so Wade just let the pleasure take him over until he was coming so hard his whole world narrowed down to the feeling of Spidey in him, on him, around him.
Wade barely registered it when Peter carefully pulled out and cleaned them up. He just snuggled back when Peter slipped back into bed and wrapped himself around Wade, letting him be the little spoon. For once, sleep found him easily.
Wade woke up to the sound of someone texting him. He was suspiciously well rested, but he didn’t remember why until he moved and felt wonderfully sore in a way that brought back all kinds of memories. He heard movement in the kitchen, so it seemed like they weren’t hallucinations. They didn’t feel like it, but he had been wrong before.
He looked at his phone.
Weas: Merry christmas, loser. Not sorry not to be there.
DP: That is your loss! I have better company!
Weas : You have company?
DP: Spidey made me tacos.
Weas: You fucked him, didn’t you?
DP: I am shocked! How dare you think that our friendship means so little.
Weas: You fucked him.
DP: I didn’t fuck him.
Weas: >.>
DP: He fucked me.
Weas: Goddamnit, Wade.
DP: He showed up at my house on Christmas Eve with tacos, margaritas made with real juice, and a negative covid test. Of course we fucked. I’m just a simple girl that likes tacos, not Margaret Thatcher!
DP: Merry christmas!
Wade put his phone aside as Peter came into the room. He looked uncertain, but determined. “I, uh...I tried to make pancakes.” He looked down. “I think I should stick to tacos.”
Wade crossed the room and pulled him into his arms. “I’ll take care of all of the pancake needs in this relationship, baby boy.” He didn’t realize what he had said until Peter sucked in a breath. “I mean, this doesn’t have to be, shit, I didn’t mean.”
Peter reached up and covered his mouth. “That was a happy gasp. I want to be with you.”
Wade grinned broadly. “Merry Christmas, baby!” And it was.