Work Text:
With his camera in hand and a shot down the hatch, Peter was ready for a long night. He always had to mentally prepare himself to deal with the overstimulation of clubs, which was made even worse now by his enhanced senses. He couldn’t help but pick up on every little voice and smell from the hundreds of people bouncing around the room, but, somehow, he managed. All it took was the thought of Wade, giving him all the courage he needed to push his way through the throngs of dancers.
He watched them all through the camera's lens like a second set of eyes, focusing in every time he spotted his target. He managed to catch a few glimpses of him in each photo set, but somehow the man managed to disappear into the crowd with a sneakiness that didn't match his overbearing nature.
Eventually, Peter gave up and moved to the edges of the room with a frustrated huff. He played back the preview of each and every image he’d taken that night, eyes lighting up every time he spotted Wade in that oversized hoodie of his. His posture was crouched to diminish his size, as if that was all it took to keep him from being seen. Little did he know, Peter was an expert at picking him out of a crowd.
"You."
Peter froze at the familiar voice. He’d been so wrapped up with the Wade on screen that he’d someone completely missed the real one (so much for being able to spot him in a crowd), and the surprise appearance made all the anxiety come right back.
A blush darkened his cheeks as he looked up, brown eyes meeting blue from just inches away—closer than they had ever been before. Not only that, but Wade was leaning over him, boxing him in with arms on either side of his body. Trapping him. His knees threatened to buckle under his nerves as he studied the man’s face, taking in all the details he’d only ever been able to see through a camera. He even smelled good.
“You’ve been taking pictures of me,” Wade continued. “But I get it, you were probably paid off. No harm no foul, just as long as those photos never see the light of day. Ever. Okay?” He switched from menacing to friendly in the blink of an eye, and experiencing it firsthand made Peter’s heart practically beat out of his chest. For the first time since becoming Spider-Man, he couldn’t find a way to quip back against the threats. Instead, he wordlessly gripped his camera tight and pulled it against his chest.
Some of the pictures weren’t important, just the occasional for-fun photo shoot or pictures of Spider-Man for The Daily Bugle, but he couldn’t bear to let the others go. The rest of the gallery was full of Wade; from videos to pictures to the state of the man’s apartment. Precious pictures. So much so that he refused to risk them getting deleted, even with his model standing right in front of him.
Well, if something did go wrong, he had already saved most of them to his laptop. The only ones at risk were the ones from tonight, and even those were enough to make him fight Wade on this.
“I’ll keep them safe,” Peter said with a nod.
“Uh-huh, yeah, no, like I’m gonna believe that. Those have got to be deleted. Can’t have my face getting out and disturbing the peace.” Peter frowned at the dig at his own appearance. He was beautiful, goddamnit. Face and all.
“But I love your face,” Peter whispered before he had time to think. His head was too fuzzy with the sight and scent of his beloved to pay attention to anything else. Not even the words coming out of his own mouth.
“I have no idea what you just said. You’re gonna have to be louder there, buddy.” Wade leaned in close, making Peter shiver the moment his warm breath caressed his ear. The words were loud, yet he could barely hear over the sound of the blood rushing to his head (both of them). “Hope you weren’t talking back to me. Can’t have you running off with those pictures, now can I?”
Wade pulled away all too soon, a less-than-innocent smile on his face. That was his last straw. He could (barely) handle being cornered and threatened by his beloved, but also having him whisper into his ear? That was enough to break the self-control he'd been maintaining for months, years. He had to be interested after doing something like that, and if that was the case, then Peter would be damn sure to make his love known. By the end of the night, no matter what happened, he would have the man in his arms.
“How about we make a deal?” Peter asked, but his voice lacked the determination he felt. Wade’s whispers mixed with the arousal he felt from their closeness left him a breathless mess.
“I can work with that, let’s go settle things over a drink or two.” Wade shifted to Peter’s side and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to keep him there. Trapped. Wanting more. That big, strong arm wrapped around his shoulder, guiding him, squeezing him, wasn't enough. He needed more. He dropped the camera, allowing the strap around his neck to catch it, so he could lean into Wade's warmth. It felt so good, but there were still too many layers in the way. Too many people in the way, trying to ruin the moment by taking Wade's attention as he pushed them out of the way. They didn't deserve to be touched by him. Not important enough, not a single one of them.
And then the moment was ruined. Wade pulled away to sit at the bar and Peter's anger turned to disappointment. He felt the distance more acutely than he ever had before.
He still managed to sit himself down in the seat beside him, knowing that with obedience came trust. And if they trusted each other then Wade wouldn't have to feel nervous when Peter confessed. Just a little bit longer. That's all he'd have to wait.
Peter put his cheek on his hand as he watched Wade order their drinks. It was practically a date already. He couldn't help the small laugh that burst forth at the thought. Wade was his. The scarred, pretty man before him that spoke with his whole body, that wasn't afraid to be himself or stand up for his own beliefs, was all his. And by tomorrow, he'd come to understand that, too.
He was pulled out of his musings when Wade turned back to him, settling a different drink in front of each of them. “You seem like a fruity kinda guy, so I got you a strawberry daiquiri.” He already seemed to know Peter's tastes so well, what a perfect match.
“Thank you,” Peter chirped as he took a small sip. He wanted more, but as good as it tasted and as grateful as he was for the gift (from his beloved, too), he couldn't risk messing up by getting drunk. Wade didn't have to care about that with his healing factor, so he downed more than a bit of it in one go. Peter leaned in close, fascinated by the way his throat bobbed as he smiled. If only that hoodie wasn't in the way; if only he could see more. "What'd you get?" He asked, even though he already knew the man's favorite drink, and based on the color, he was sure that's what was in the glass.
“Sex on the beach! My least favorite kind of sex, but my most favorite kind of drink. This thing’ll getcha seven kinds of fucked up and you won’t even see it coming.” So could Peter, but he'd only dare to fuck up Wade in the best way there was.
“I’ve never tried it before. Is it good?” Of course it was—only the best for Wade—but if he could charm the man into letting him have a sip it would be like a dream come true. An indirect kiss before he finally got the real thing.
“The drink part or the sex part? Cause the sex is fucking awful. Imagine having sand in every orifice and crevice you can think of, and then add a whole lotta friction on top of that. Not a great combo. The drink is good, though.”
“I've never tried either, but I think I’ll just stick with the alcohol after that scathing review.” Unless Wade changed his mind. He'd do anything if it meant they could be that close.
“Want a sippy sip? I swear I’m not contagious despite looking like I belong in the infectious ward.”
All rational thoughts left Peter at that moment and all he could do was nod. It had worked and barely even had to say anything. His lips would touch the same surface as Wade's, he'd get to drink the same drink, swallow whatever traces of saliva were left on that straw. How was he meant to think of anything but that?
“Here.” Wade started to hand over the glass but pulled it away just before Peter had the chance to grab it. The disappointment lining his face was so evident, not even the bartender could ignore it. “So sorry, did I forget to mention there’s a clause? Because there is. I’ll trade you this for that camera. Not forever or anything, just for long enough that I can delete those photos you took. I’ll be nice and not even ask questions. Just know that whatever reason you have to keep these is probably preeetty flimsy in the face of a mercenary, if ya catch my drift."
Peter almost considered resisting, just so he could be punished. Threatened, roughed up, hurt, anything as long as it came from Wade.
But the drink was right there, being tauntingly waved in the air. Luring him in like a siren. A sweet, delicious siren that had been more than just touched by Wade.
Of course that trade would be a risk. All those photos from tonight would be deleted… They weren't the best by any means, but they were still special. Whether or not he was trying to hide himself in the crowd, there was still something there in the way he held himself that was so uniquely him. The way he moved around the crowd, lips occasionally parted as he talked to himself, little quirks and movements that he didn't realize he did. All captured in that gallery. He didn't want them gone, not in the slightest.
But, but if there was a way he could make sure they'd end up leaving together, spending the night together, talking, revealing feelings, touching each other, ravishing each other, then so what if a few photos were gone in exchange for the real thing? It would be an acceptable price to pay. He'd just need to do his part to make sure that happened.
"Okay," Peter finally breathed out. He removed the camera from around his neck and handed it over, knowing that he didn't have to say a word to explain how important it was to him. Wade knew, and he'd take good care of it. He took it over with a precious victorious smile on his face, then slid the drink in front of him in return.
“Good deal." He barely even gave Peter a look before he got right into studying the camera, and as Peter studied him, it was clear he wasn't quite sure how to use it. How cute. He didn't say a word to help him, and instead just watched as he took a sip of the alcohol.
He hummed in delight at the taste. It was like he could almost taste Wade on the straw. He wanted to drink the whole thing, swallow every little bit of backwash that was possibly left behind, but he had a better plan.
He had always been a lover of science, so of course he'd end up learning about man-made poisons alongside the medicines. And when he was left to his own devices, no one would ever suspect sweet little unassuming Peter was using the lab to create deadly concoctions of his own. It was mostly out of curiosity, but he had entertained this thought more than once in the past. Enough that he'd kept the vial on him at all times, never knowing when he'd need it. So, while Wade was sufficiently distracted, he poured it into the drink. Hopefully it was concentrated enough to get through his super-healing. Peter had confidence that it was.
Once Wade was (hopefully) unconscious, then Peter could take him home and show him how much he loved him. How much they love each other. And there would be no waiting or people to get in the way, because it would just be the two of them. No complications.
“Jesus, how many pictures did you take tonight? I’m as impressed at your determination as I am concerned. You, uh, you don’t do this a lot, do you?” Wade only glanced up for a second to give him an incriminating look.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t ask any questions,” Peter snarked as he pushed the glass back towards the other man. “It was good, by the way.”
“Well I am a man of impeccable taste… At least when it comes to food. Others would argue that I’m a bit ‘tacky.’” Peter loved the way he spoke what was on his mind without a second thought, and his adoration only spiked when Wade took a careless sip of his drink. His focus was still on the gallery, completely oblivious to Peter’s heated look.
Wade absently continued to drink, Peter watching with excitement, until he started to notice the subtle sinking of his head and slowed blinking. “Fuck, why am I…?” Wade slurred out as he squeezed his eyes shut, a slight yet unmistakable sway present in the way he moved. A smile overtook Peter’s face as he watched. He absently grabbed the camera from the man’s weakened grip and slung it over his neck, all without looking away. “I barely even drank…”
His words died out as his head lolled to the side, but Peter caught him before he could fall. He slung an arm around the man’s shoulder and let his body fall onto him. He was heavy, sure, but Peter was strong enough that it was a comforting sensation rather than a burden. “Let’s go home, big guy,” Peter chirped as he took a step forward, only to realize he was practically dragging the man. “Wow, you’re out cold, huh? That worked better than I thought it would.”
Peter hummed in joy and he scooped Wade into his arms, carrying him like a newlywed couple about to cross the threshold. He got looks from the patrons as he carried someone two times his size with ease, but predictably, no one said a thing. He didn’t pay them any mind, anyway. Whether unconscious or awake, Wade effortlessly stole his attention. He looked so peaceful in his arms, not the slightest bit worried about the constant barrage of thoughts that normally clouded his mind. Maybe if Peter decreased the dosage he’d get to see that blank expression while Wade was conscious enough to be content.
He picked up the pace as he hurried through the streets, anxious for when his man would awake. He realized as he entered his apartment and delicately set Wade on the bed that he was more than just sleeping. Seems he had gone a bit too overboard and accidentally killed his beloved.
“Oops.” Luckily it wouldn't last for long.
With a slow and unsteady hand, Peter removed the hoodie that had been hiding Wade's face from sight for the whole night. He really was beautiful like this, laying in his bed with his whole face on display. Seeing it now I'm the proper lighting of his bedroom, nothing getting in the way, was much better than what he'd seen in the club. He couldn't help but stare at the sculpted face, covered in a myriad of scars that made him look like an art piece on display in a gallery. Every time he looked, he swore they were just a little different. Every single day there was something new to note.
Peter's eyes drifted down to get a look at the rest of his body, admiring his chest that was only covered by a t-shirt that clung to his skin and showed off his muscular body. His suit never hid much, but this was much more revealing. Much more intimate. He wanted to cradle that large body with his own, to feel nothing but Wade's skin against his own.
His eyes drifted down and down to those loose sweatpants that kept everything hidden away. They must've been uncomfortable, it would only be polite to remove them. His breathing picked up as he slowly pulled them down, exposing the bulge in his underwear and, inch by inch, more of his skin. He couldn't help but linger on the outline of Wade's dick, but he wouldn't be so impolite as to do anything without the man's permission.
For now he'd just make himself comfortable. Without a second to waste, Peter hopped off the bed and replaced his clothes with Wade's oversized hoodie. It didn't stop until his knees and the large hole for his head showed off a lot more skin than hoodies were meant to. It was much better than wearing something of his own. This was warm, from Wade, and smelled like him too. The only thing that would be better is if he was wrapped up in the man himself.
He had to reassure himself that he didn't have long to wait, even though the patience was so hard to find. Every step he took had the soft fabric rubbing against his dick and on the verge of moaning in pleasure, but he kept it in with a bite of his lip.
He smiled at his beloved, still unused to seeing Wade lie in his very own bed. He'd fantasized about it more times than he could count, even made himself one of those little Deadpool shaped plushies to cuddle with at night, but this was better than anything his imagination had ever conjured up. Even with him dead, it was a sight to behold.
Impatient as he was, he couldn't help but to crawl on top of Wade and straddle his waist. If he thought the hoodie was making him hard, the direct warmth of Wade was so much better. If only the shirt wasn't in the way, but it'd be too much effort to get up and remove it now.
Instead, he dragged a hand down one of Wade's arms, squeezing the hard, yet completely relaxed, muscles as he went. He'd never felt a sensation like those scars on his hands before. It was better than he ever could've hoped. Another sensation unique to only Wade. Something that no one else could ever give him. Not that he'd ever need anyone else. They had each other.
Once Peter reached Wade's wrist, he delicately moved the arm above the man's head until it was touching the headboard. After doing the same to the other, he webbed them to the wood. Waking up from death, all confused and disoriented, must be a terrifying, stressful experience. Peter couldn't have him accidentally hurting himself, so the restraints would have to do. Hopefully he wouldn't struggle so much that they'd tighten and start cutting off his circulation, but it wasn't the end of the world if they did. Perks of having a super-healing soon-to-be boyfriend.
Unfortunately, there wasn't anything left to do but wait, and there was no telling when Wade would wake up. So, Peter busied himself by leaning in close to continue admiring that gorgeous face. He could see every little detail of every little scar, take in those subtle asymmetricalities of his still-perfect face shape, and admire his plump lips and prominent cheekbones. The perfect specimen.
Peter’s hand moved of its own accord, following Wade's sharp jawline until it landed on his lips. Still warm. They were the same texture as the scars littering his body, some smooth and others rough, but always pleasant against his fingertips.
He didn’t face a bit of resistance as he slipped a finger into the still-wet mouth and traced the textured surface of Wade's teeth. He hummed in amusement as he felt the soft, yet grainy, texture of plaque, a clear sign that it had been a while since he’d brushed his teeth. Another habit to add to Peter's list, and though some others would offend him by having such bad hygiene, that could never be the case for Wade. Instead, it was just a cute little quirk. It's not like he has to take good care of them when they'd grow right back.
Peter reached further into Wade's mouth until he got to the molars and slowly felt up each curve where one tooth ended and the other began. He smiled when he realized they weren’t properly aligned, all twisted and turned into whatever direction they wanted to face. It was quite fitting for Wade. Perfectly imperfect. His good traits mixed with the bad (but oh-so-charming) to combine into something uniquely him.
He slipped his finger out of Wade’s mouth and into his own, quietly moaning as their saliva combined. He eagerly swallowed it down and, before he had time to think, crushed his lips against Wade’s. He was unresponsive, of course, so Peter kept it gentle. Rather than having to worry about how it felt for his lover, he could just revel in the feel of having Wade’s lips pressed against his own.
It was hard to say how long they stayed like that, but he immediately registered the twitch of Wade’s lips when it came. Peter pulled away and looked down at him with a smile, blushing red and panting while Wade slowly came to. His eyelids fluttered and body twitched until he was finally awake enough to process his surroundings.
Wade’s brows furrowed in confusion when they landed on Peter’s face, the expression deepening when he realized he was also being straddled. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, considering what to say, until he finally spoke, “Were you just kissing me?”
“Sorry,” Peter’s unapologetic smile never waivered. “I didn’t mean to. You just looked so pretty laying there. It was supposed to be more romantic and not just you waking up to me kissing you, but… I like you. Well, love you. Everything about you is just perfect for me. The way you talk, the way you move, the way you look. I just love it all.”
“Uhhh,” Wade dragged out as he looked around the room. Eventually he turned back to Peter with an awkward grimace. “Yeah, that’s great and all, but I don't know you?”
“You don’t recognize me?” Peter’s expression fell into a pout as his heart dropped into his chest. “I mean, you’ve never seen me, but my voice is the same. I'm the same." He liked their hangouts as Spider-Man and Deadpool, so why couldn't he do something so simple as to recognize him out of the mask?
Wade squinted in thought, intently studying him as if trying to read the answer off his soul. His eyes widened when he realized it, and so did Peter’s smile. His heart rate picked up in anticipation. “No,” Wade said as he tried to sit up, only to fail due to the restraints. Good call on Peter's part, he looked panicked and just about ready to hurt himself. Wade looked up at his bound wrists and spotted the unmistakable webs. “Spidey?”
“That’s me,” Peter spoke through an excited grin. “So, yeah, this is my face. My name’s Peter, by the way! It’s really nice to see you like this. Just us, no masks.”
“I am not as excited about this situation as I imagined I would be. What’s with the whole ‘you taking pictures of me, then kidnapping me, partially undressing me, and tying me up in your bed?’ Cause I gotta say, not the kinda behavior I expect from the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.”
“I… got a little impatient. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But I’m really, really glad I have you here with me now. I love you. I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you.”
“Thank you?”
“Do you… not like me back?” Peter’s hands tightened into fists, gripping the fabric of Wade’s shirt below him. That couldn't be true. He was just surprised. Still getting used to being awake.
“I think I’m still processing this situation. I only had one drink. Did you… drug me?”
“Little bit.” Lotta bit. “Did you like the pictures? I have a lot more.” He leaned his face in close, just inches away from the sexy man he’d just been kissing. Kissing. He could hardly believe it.
“Sssuure…?” He didn’t sound very sure, but that was okay. He was just overwhelmed, it would take a moment for him to get his head back on his shoulders. Then he could finally accept Peter’s feelings.
“I’ll show you some of the better ones later.” Peter began to caress Wade’s cheek, but the man turned his head away. “Look at me,” he commanded as gripped Wade's jaw tight and forced him to stare straight at him. “God, your eyes are so pretty. I couldn’t see them before. Do you mind if I…” He trailed off, finishing his sentence with a kiss. Rather than the soft and pliable lips of before, they were pursed into a tight line to resist.
Peter pulled away with a glare. “Does my confession mean nothing to you? Come on, Wade, I love you.” His expression and grip softened as he ran his thumb across those still-pursed lips. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are? Cause you are. I know you’re self-conscious about the scars, but I think they’re beautiful. I love the feel of your skin against mine.” He ground his hips against Wade’s muscular stomach with a quiet moan. “All of you.”
“I, uh, I love you too, baby boy. So can you get off of me and let me go and then we can figure this whole thing out later? I have plans with, um, Weasel. Bar night.”
He still sounded unsure of himself, but Peter was sure it was just because he was nervous. How cute, Peter thought with a giggle. “You can hang out with him any time, but this is our first night together. Don’t you think that’s more important?”
“He’s been having issues lately, really needs my support, you know? Can’t leave him hanging.”
“Weasel isn’t important right now. And if you think he is, then maybe I’ll just have to pay him a visit and teach him not to come between us.” Peter didn’t even realize his nails were digging into Wade’s skin with his impatience.
“No, you’re right, yeah, totally. But can you still remove your webs so I can have a liiiitle more control?”
“Nope. I think you’re cuter like this.” He booped Wade on the nose. “So pretty all tied up and ready for me.” This time when he leaned in, he started peppering his lover’s jaw with kisses, lingering when he got to that sensitive spot just below the ear. Wade shivered beneath his touch and Peter picked up his pace. He licked a stripe down his neck, then returned to his lips. He wasn’t exactly responsive this time, but he wasn’t resisting, either. And that was enough.
Wade stayed unmoving as Peter ran a hand down his neck, stopping when he reached the top of the shirt that was in the way. Without disconnecting the kiss, he easily ripped the shirt open to expose his muscular build. Peter pulled away, breathing heavily, and stared down at his pecs in awe. “I love your body.” He groped Wade’s large chest and used his thumbs to play with his nipples. Just as scarred as the rest of him. His dick was sure to feel the same way, too—fuck, he could hardly wait to see it.
Peter slid down the man’s body until his crotch was aligned perfectly with Wade’s, nothing but a little bit of fabric in the way. He ground against the man as he moaned, smile widening when he felt a twitch beneath him. “I knew all it would take was a little bit of encouragement. I wanna ride you, wanna feel you inside me, want you to cum until it’s dripping out of my ass. Don’t you just love the thought of me tightening around you, bouncing up and down on your dick. Fuck.” He lifted up the hoodie to show Wade just how hard he was.
The man once again turned away, earning him an impulsive slap on the cheek that was just a bit more forceful than intended. Wade let out a grunt of pain and surprise.
“Those pained noises of yours. I forgot how much I missed them.” He wanted more, needed more. He dragged his nails down Wade’s stomach, tearing the skin and drawing just the slightest hint of blood. And the best part was that it would all heal nice and fresh in only a moment’s time, leaving him the perfect canvas to hurt again and again. He leaned down and licked off a smudge of blood, just enough to get a little taste. The metallic twinge was everything he’d imagined it would be. It all started on that first night when he saw Wade standing in the moonlight, gleaming red with someone else’s blood.
“Yeah, okay, no, I’m done pretending. I am not okay with this and I want you to let me go right the fuck now. You love me, right? So do this for me.” Wade pulled against the restraints, but the webs didn’t budge. Peter just watched as his muscles flexed from the effort.
“You’re lying. This little guy is a lot more honest.” He rolled his hips against Wade’s dick. It wasn't hard yet, but it was getting there.
“I have no control over my dick. Pretty boy rubs against it? Sure, I’m gonna get hard. But that doesn’t mean I want this to happen. So get off of me and then we can talk about this like the sane, rational adults neither of us are.”
“I don’t wanna talk. But you can. Your voice really gets me going. You know how hard it’s been trying to resist you every time we patrol together? You know what you do to me.” He rubbed his dick through the hoodie, showing off the clear outline to his man.
“Fuck, please, just stop. I do like you, have since we first met, but this? This is not okay. Please don’t do this to me. Just let me go, okay? I don’t want this.”
Peter just hummed and hopped off the bed with a blank expression, none too happy about the situation. They liked each other, so why was he saying no? It didn’t make sense. They were perfect together. Peter just needed to show him that.
He trotted over to the nightstand, Wade’s eyes following along as he pulled out a bottle of lube and a freshly sharpened knife. “I don’t think you remember the first day we met. For real, before I was Spider-Man.” He took a seat on the bed, beside Wade rather than on top of him. “I was just a kid when some piece of shit”—he tightened his grip on the knife—“decided he wanted to hurt me. But then you got there, and you saved me. Took him to the ground and beat him. Over and over again. While he pleaded and begged until his bones were broken and he was just a bloody mess. You looked so pretty standing over him covered in his blood. Making him scream.” He idly traced the knife over his own wrists as he spoke. Just enough to leave little pink marks on his skin.
“You told me to forget about it, but I never did. You saved me. My hero. I didn’t realize until then how beautiful pain could be.” He sliced into his wrist with a moan, just a shallow cut until the blood began to flow, then held it over Wade’s chest and watched as it dripped down. It was so much prettier than back then, because this time the suit wasn’t in the way. And this time, it was their blood.
Wade flinched when the first warm droplet hit his skin, pulled out of the reverie that the story had sent him into. “I remember. Fuck, I lost control and I felt so bad, I didn’t realize you were watching. I didn’t mean to do that. To show you that. Shit, I—I did this to you. I’m the reason you’re…”
“You are. Thank you,” he pecked Wade on the cheek, “for saving my life. For showing me how beautiful the world is.”
“No, no no no. That’s not—Shit, that was not okay what I did to that man. I went way overboard and holy shit don’t learn from that.”
“Well, I enjoyed it.” He ran his hand down his open wound and collected the blood on his thumb, then smeared it across where he’d just kissed. “Don’t worry, I can always be the one getting hurt if you don’t like it. You can do anything you want to me. I’ll never say no to you.” He pressed the pointed tip of the blade into the meat of his palm and Wade struggled against his restraints.
“Don’t—No! Don’t hurt yourself again, okay? If you want pain, just… hurt me. I deserve it, okay? You don’t.”
“Then I’ll just have to do something to deserve it,” he whispered into Wade’s ear, then kissed the blood off his cheek with a giggle. “Next time. Right now, I’m gonna make you feel amazing. Gonna make you scream in pain while I fuck you into oblivion.”
Wade’s sigh of annoyance went ignored.
Peter turned himself around, setting the knife on the side of the bed and replacing it with the bottle of lube. He didn’t have a speck of concern about what Wade would do if he got ahold of the blade. Peter would enjoy it, after all. Even if it had him crying and sobbing in pain, the pleasure of making his beloved happy would make up for any negative emotion he felt.
He settled himself down on the man’s stomach, giving himself a perfect view of Wade’s underwear. Stupid thing, getting in the way. He ripped through them without a second thought, smiling when he heard a little yelp of pain from the sudden, if temporary, wedgie. He was more focused on Wade’s dick, though. It wasn’t hard enough for him to tell its true size, but he’d been right about the scars. Peter couldn’t wait to feel it inside of him.
Wade, however, was still being stubborn. He thought they’d gotten over that, but no. There he was squeezing his thighs (beautiful, thick, muscular thighs that could probably crush a skull with little ease) together to hide his dick. He grimaced at the futile display of resistance.
“What are you doing?” Peter hissed.
“Look, you can hurt me, drug me, cut me open, kill me in whatever way your twisted little heart desires, but this is where I draw the line. Pain is fine, whatever, but I’ll never forgive you if you rape me. I don’t want this.”
“You say you love me, and then you change your tune and say you just like me, and now you’re saying no? I don’t appreciate you playing with my feelings like this. If you really cared about me like I care about you, then you’d let me do this. That’s what love is, that’s what liking someone means. That you’d do anything for them, even if it hurts. So why—why are you saying no, why don’t you want this? Why don’t you want me? Does my love mean nothing to you?” He couldn’t bear to turn around and look at the man’s face.
“Spidey, Petey, honey, that’s not what love is supposed to be. It’s supposed to be mutually beneficial, everyone is supposed to be happy, not forcing themselves to do something they don’t wanna do.”
“Do I not make you happy?”
“Uh, well, you do. Just not when you’re trying to rape me.”
“I’m not—!” Peter took a deep breath to calm himself. He wasn’t. This wasn’t rape. They loved each other, it was consensual. Wade was just joking around, messing with him. They did that all the time. They bantered, they quipped back and forth, it was their thing. Sure, Wade was going a little far this time, but that was okay. Mistakes happened. All the backtalking was a fun little game.
With nothing more than a hum, Peter pulled Wade’s thighs apart. Big and tough as he looked, they both knew Peter was stronger. He could play-fight all he wanted, but it wouldn’t do a thing. Wade bent his legs and threw them back in an attempt to hit Peter off of him, and Peter caught them with a grunt of surprise, dropping the bottle in the process.
“Cute as your struggling is, I’m getting a little impatient here.”
“Then fucking stop!”
Peter ignored the protests and thrashing of legs as he leaned down to straighten them out, webbing them to the endboard when he finally got them settled into place. With his webs doing all the work, he didn’t have to worry about fighting back against it.
He was already leaning down, so he decided he may as well take full advantage of the position. He flipped up the hoodie so his ass was on full display for his man to watch. He playfully shook it as he retrieved the lube, and once his fingers were sufficiently slick, he spread himself open. His chest brushed against Wade’s dick as he teased his entrance, prodding himself open one finger at a time. He moaned and fisted the sheets with his free hand as he slipped the first finger inside.
“You’re watching, right? Fuck, I’m so impatient, I just wanna feel you inside me already.” But Wade wasn’t hard yet, much to Peter’s chagrin. He crawled backwards until his face was aligned with Wade’s cock and he was fingering himself right above Wade’s face, giving him no choice but to watch. “Feel free to help. I know your hands are tied up, but that mouth is still free.”
“Fuck you,” Wade muttered, still against his bounds. Peter thought it was cute.
“Looks like you’re as impatient as I am. I’ll do my best to multitask, just for you.” He poured a generous amount of lube on Wade’s dick, taking note of the way he shivered from the cold. “That feel good? Or you want me to warm you up?” He didn’t wait for a response before grabbing hold of his cock and stroking it up and down. He moved his finger in and out of himself at the same pace, so they could both pretend that it was Wade's dick doing all the work.
He could hear his man impatiently moving against the sheets, breathing heavily with need, and wet noises from the lube. Wade wasn't getting much harder, though, so Peter put more focus on getting the man ready rather than himself. He paused the movements of the finger in his ass so he could delicately explore every inch of Wade's dick. Each time he bucked his hips or took in a particularly sharp breath, Peter knew to focus on those areas more.
Slow going as it was, every little twitch of Wade's cock filled him with a well-earned sense of justice. Soon, stretching himself open didn't even matter anymore, and he was replacing his hand with his mouth. The lube barely even hampered the natural taste of Wade's dick and he moaned at the taste as he diligently sucked on the head.
"Fuck, stop it, Peter!" Wade shouted as he continued to squirm and huff, but his hard little friend showed what he was really thinking. Peter hummed as he sunk down further, lapping at the frenulum until his tongue could no longer reach it. He started to gag as it reached the back of his throat, so he pulled away for a quick breath before soldiering on. He went much slower this time, heavily breathing through his nose, determined to take all of it into his mouth at once. Each time he gagged, Wade grunted in pleasure, even though he tried to hide it.
"I swear if you vomit on my dick, too!"
That comment made him chuckle around it, though it came out as more of a series of gagged coughs. He wouldn't throw up, he was sure of that. Though he couldn't train himself out of his gag reflex, he had done enough to know that much. And he was honestly glad for it considering how much pleasure it seemed to bring each time his throat convulsed.
The taste of the lube was washed away by his spit as it ran down Wade's length and onto his hand, which was tightly gripping the base. He moved his other hand to cup Wade's balls, slowly stroking them and getting a shiver in response. He continued to do so as he bounced up and down, getting the littlest bit closer to his goal each time he came down.
It would've been nice if it was Wade's hands pushing him down, forcing him to gag and take the whole thing, but with the little mood he was in, he'd probably be more interested in their little play-fight still. At least the struggling was cute. Having Wade tied up and pretending to resist while Peter did whatever he wanted to him was just as good.
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he whimpered when he finally had his lips all the way down, pressing against the skin of Wade's pelvis. He stayed like that for as long as he could, gagging and crying, until he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled away and greedily took in air, not caring about the saliva dripping down his mouth.
"I trained for you, see? Aren't I good at this? Even trained my ass so I could have you inside me," He looked over his shoulder with a coquettish grin. Wade glared back with a grimace, teeth bared and face red like a wild animal trying to fight for dominance. Maybe that's what he wanted, to be in charge. There was always next time.
"Since this little thing is so temperamental…" He ran his finger up the base of Wade's dick. "I'll make sure you feel good while I prepare myself. I hope my hand is enough."
"I don't want your damn hand or your damn mouth or any damn part of you! I—I hate you! I hate you, Spidey!" His snarl slowly turned into a frown as tears formed in his eyes. "Why would you do this to me?"
Peter scoffed. "You're not very good at this whole roleplay thing. Hate is going a bit too far, darling. Keep those damn words out of your mouth, okay? At least when it comes to me."
"Fuck you." Wade's voice cracked, coming out all weak and whimpery and beautiful. Peter had never seen Wade—anyone so broken, since he'd watched that man get beaten to death right in front him. It was a rare, important moment. One to be savored. He thought it would take more pain, more violence, but whatever it was that caused this outburst had worked, too. How lucky.
Wade's chest shook until he broke out into a sob, and those tears in the corner of his eyes started to flow like a river. "Aww, don't cry so soon, baby. We're just getting started." Peter turned himself around and gently grasped his face so he could lick a line of tears away. Salty. Wade.
"I liked you, I looked up to you. You made me better, less violent, so why? Why are you like this? Please. You're not—you're not the real Spidey."
"I am, Wade." He kissed a few more tears away. "I know it's overwhelming coming to terms with your feelings, seeing each other behind the mask. But it really is me. I spent as much time as I could patrolling with you so we could have more time together."
"Why'd you help me? Why'd you keep me from killing people, hurting them, if—if you were gonna turn around and do this to me?!"
"As much as I loved watching you beat up that man. Kill him. I realized something, watching you more recently. I want that to be something special, just for us. I want you to hurt me, not criminals. I want to hurt you, not strangers. It's… intimate. Loving. At least for me."
"Shit, and I didn't think there was anyone out there as fucked up as me." Wade chucked wryly through his tears. "I'm sorry for what I did when you were just a kid. So sorry. But I—I can't do this. It's too much, I want it to stop!"
"You'll get your break when I'm done, alright?" He pressed a quick kiss to Wade's lips. "Hold on just a little bit longer for me, baby."
"Just kill me. Please. I'd rather be dead than conscious."
"Well, I wouldn't mind using you like that, either, but for now, I want you to be inside me. And for that, you have to be alive to get hard. But don't worry, I can go again and again. We can do anything, everything. Just us."
"There really is no talking my way outta this one, huh?"
Peter just shrugged and placed himself right back into Wade's lap, pressing their dicks together to keep Wade all nice and hard. He already wasn't as hard as before. Boo.
He slowly moved his hips to rub themselves together, his own cock getting plenty slick from the spit and remaining lube. He collected some of it off Wade's balls and used it to continue fingering himself open. He wanted them to go all the way already. A real, proper fuck.
He groaned and moved his hips as he played with himself, his face buried in Wade's large chest. He had the perfect set of tits. He used his other hand to grope and play with a nipple. His eyes fluttered shut as he reveled in every little whimper, sob, and moan that Wade tried so desperately to hold back.
A second finger joined the first inside of himself and he groaned as he curled them to reach his prostate. He was sure Wade's thick cock would do just as good a job if he angled it right. No, better. With those scars rubbing around inside him.
Peter added a third too soon, and he bit down into the meaty flesh of Wade's pec with the pain. He kept going until he could taste blood, getting a whole new wave of pleasure that distracted from the discomfort. He let go and lapped at the mark, both to soothe it and to taste the blood. If only that bite mark could last forever, indelible proof that they'd be forever intertwined.
He focused on biting, marking, bruising, making him bleed until he was finally ready to take Wade's cock. He pushed himself back up, giggling when he laid his eyes on his good work. An, albeit temporary, heart made of bite marks, blood, and hickeys encircled his chest. All the while Wade shut his eyes tight and looked away, chest still shaking from the sobs wracking his body.
"You're so cute, Wade. I don't know how I even managed to wait so long. And you're still so finicky despite all the time I gave you. You're lucky I love you no matter what. No matter how you act. And whether you realize it or not, soon you'll show your love for me too." He nuzzled into the man's neck.
"Like fucking hell I will. I'll never forgive you, bastard!" He started thrashing around once more, pulling at the webs until the wooden bedframe started to creak. It was more liable to break than the webbing was, but he could live with that. Who needs a good headboard when you have a boyfriend around to make up for it all?
Wade hissed and froze in place, leaning to one side of the bed, and Peter curiously tilted his head. He reached down to feel the side that must've been hurting, and pulled away when he felt a familiar wetness. Even more blood was coating his fingers than the feeble amount he'd drawn from Wade with his teeth. Enough to glisten in the light of his room. How pretty. He wiped it on his face instead of licking it off, wanting the rest of himself to glisten, too.
He went back to that spot until he pulled away with the forgotten knife which had gotten buried due to Wade's struggling. How cute, he did it to himself. Like a little treat for Peter. "You should be more honest with yourself, Wade. You like this." He pressed the tip of the blade to his beloved's sternum. Wade only spit on him in response, and he wiped it off and sucked it into his mouth. Wade scoffed.
He set the knife down for now, this time on Wade's chest, so he could finally guide Wade into himself. From just a few minutes of inattention he was already less hard than before (maybe Peter could make him some super strong sildenafil to keep that problem at bay.) As it stood now, he was sure the warmth and tightness of his insides was all his lover would need.
It was a struggle to get him inside, but it seemed he was right, and the lower he sunk down, the harder Wade got. He was stretching him out, making him feel so full. So much bigger and warmer than his fingers. And that texture. Peter wantonly moaned as he struggled, pushing on through the pain of the thickness. A little pain was okay. Normal. Worth it to make Wade happy.
He balled his fists when he finally bottomed out, sinking his nails into Wade's ribs in the process. "S—so good, you feel so good. Wade, oh my god, this is so, so much better than what I imagined. You're perfect. Love you, love you so much."
Wade wouldn't even look at him, but for now, that was okay. He shut his eyes as he slowly lifted himself up and down, getting used to the new feeling as he went. His moans grew louder and more genuine the more comfortable he got. It was only feeling better and better, bringing him neverending pleasure. He was sure Wade felt the same way.
Soon he was bouncing up and down with hardly any effort, his strength and endurance took pretty much all the effort out of riding him. It just felt good.
Peter opened his eyes and leaned down for a kiss, the cool metal of the blade pressing between their chests. He made out with him far more intensely than before. Wade tried to resist, but Peter squeezed his cheeks together to force his lips to stay pursed. He slipped his tongue into Wade's mouth and ran them over his teeth, not even minding that his jaw was clenched. He could still feel the front of them all, lingering on the sharp little points when he felt a canine. They were so strong and solid, just like the rest of him.
Eventually Wade unclenched his jaw, giving in, and Peter pushed past his teeth to mingle with his tongue. His moans with each bounce were muffled by the other man's mouth.
And then Wade bit him. Hard and fast, and enough to make him taste more metal on his tongue.
He only moaned and picked up the pace. Wade was doing it. He was finally joining in, not resisting him. Giving pain, the exact same as pleasure in his eyes. He loved him. Loved him so much.
He attempted to mumble out words of thanks and praise, but it was just gibberish with his tongue caught between the man's teeth. They sank deeper and deeper, tearing into flesh and making their mouths filled with blood. Was he going to bite it off? Keep him from speaking for the rest of his life? Turn him into a doll that could do nothing but moan and whine to beg for more?
It stopped before it could reach that point, and Peter pulled away. He kept his tongue out, showing Wade his dirty work, letting the blood drip back down into his face. Wade looked utterly devastated.
"After all this, why can I still not hurt you? Why can't I just fight back? Why you, Spidey?"
Peter gathered up saliva with blood to spit into Wade's mouth, though the man closed his mouth and turned away before it could land. "But you did hurt me," Peter's slurred, in too much pain to form proper words. "And it felt so good. Won't you do that again."
"I—I can't. I can't even fight back," Wade sobbed.
"'S okay, I can take the lead." Peter lifted himself up to the very tip of Wade's dick, then slammed himself back down with a shared grunt. He continued his earlier movements as he picked up the knife and gently slid it against Wade's cheek. He put pressure on the blade until it sunk into his skin, forcing his man to look back at him. He smiled and stuck his tongue back out, only to get that same little refusal in return.
This time when he tried to turn Wade's face back to his own, he didn't budge. Not even with as he sliced deeper into his cheek and had Wade clenching his teeth and grunting from the pain. That must've been a sign that he wanted more.
He kept going, sliced the blade all the way through the skin like butter, until he heard the sound of metal scraping against teeth. There was so much blood now. The right amount. Soaking Wade and the bed. So much sobbing and crying and groaning in pain. It was perfect. Everything he'd wanted since he was a kid.
Peter groaned and picked up the pace, this time positioning the knife at the top of Wade's breast. His smile grew and his moans got louder as he sliced, cutting away a little sliver of skin and revealing the deeper layers underneath. It was so fascinating. So beautiful. One day Peter wanted to see all of him, inside and out. Fat, muscles, bone, organs. Everything. It all belonged to him.
The heat built in his abdomen as Wade's dick slid in and out, filling the room with the slapping of skin intermingled with their moans of pleasure and pain.
"I—I'm almost," Peter choked out. He didn't even need to touch himself, Wade's dick was enough. His blood was enough. His pain was enough.
Peter sunk the knife deep into Wade's chest as he came, covering both of them in his cum. It intermingled with the red in the prettiest of ways, and Wade could finally be happy. Dead and unable to feel, just like he wanted. At least for now. Peter wondered if he left the knife in there if his skin would grow around it or push it out. Probably push it. Skin was fine, but a heart couldn't make it with a knife inside.
What a fun experiment it would be, the first of many in their new relationship. And Peter would enjoy every second of it.
With a relieved sigh, he stood up and moaned as the dick slid out of him. He grabbed the camera off his desk and snapped a picture of the beautiful scene as a reminder. Their first time of many to come.
The first time seeing him covered in so much blood since the night they met.
The first time since that childhood day that he'd been so happy.