When Wade pulls back, breaking the kiss, Peter carries on speaking as if nothing has happened. “--then we couldn't be roommates anymore, which would suck because I fucking love living with you dude.” He stops. Aware that something has happened that he should be reacting to. He feels the ghost of pressure and warmth on his lips and he blinks. Wade is looking at him, eyebrows raised in confusion.
Wade kissed me.
There it is. The penny drops. Peter frowns. That doesn't seem likely at all. He was the one who wanted to do the kissing. Wade doesn't want that.
“You kissed me!”
Wade shrugs, as if he's trying for jokey nonchalance. The crack in his defences is so wide Peter could drive a truck through it, but it's closing fast. “Yeah well…you wouldn't stop talking.”
“But—What if…” Peter trails off as his doubts are drowned out by a much louder voice that says, Fuck It. We’re adults. We’ll figure it out.
He’s had enough of screwing around. He grabs Wade by the back of his neck, surges forward and crushes their lips together again.
Wade squeaks in surprise and flails for a moment before he gets with the program, grabs Peter’s head and shoves his tongue down his throat, rough fingers curling around his jawline. Holy fuck. Peter gasps for breath, gripping Wade’s head, tilting his mouth toward him, biting gently at his scarred lips, plunging his tongue in as Wade opens his mouth wider in response. Wade’s mouth, like every other part of him, radiates heat. His lips are softer than he expected somehow, as if his skin is all new. He tastes like spice and beer. Peter groans as his tongue slides against Wade’s and he runs his hands greedily over the muscles he's had his eyes on for so long. They feel every bit as good as they look, solid and warm. He moans against Wade’s mouth, digging his fingers into huge biceps.
Wade runs his hands down Peter’s back, smoothing over planes of lean muscle and, tentatively, sliding further downwards. Peter grins against his lips and reaches back to grab Wade’s hands and plant them both firmly on his ass. He is rewarded with a broken moan that goes straight to his cock as Wade squeezes hard and lifts him with ridiculous ease into his lap. Although Peter knows he could lift Wade just as easily, he would have to admit the fact that Wade can manhandle him without the benefit of super strength does make him shiver. He shoves his hands under Wade’s t-shirt and pushes it up, running his fingers over the scarred ridges of his abs. He feels Wade’s stomach muscles twitch under his touch and glances up into bright blue eyes, pupils blown wide with lust and just a hint of fear. Does he still think Peter doesn't really want him? Fuck that shit. Peter shoves the t-shirt higher. “Get this off,” he demands.
Wade complies. “Eager thing aren't you.”
“Fuck yes. I've been wanting to do this for months.”
Wade groans. “Fuck you’re sexy baby boy. How the shit did I get this lucky?”
“Fuck luck. Have you seen you? You're so fucking hot.” Peter gasps, leaning down to kiss Wade’s neck, over his collarbone, sucking small marks and trailing kisses down his chest as he grips his shoulders. When he flicks his tongue over a hard nipple Wade hisses and bucks against him, grinding a sizeable bulge against him. Peter grins in surprise and sucks at the nipple again, breaking off with a groan as Wade grips his ass tighter, digging fingers into his muscles and grinding against Peter’s own erection which is threatening to bust the zipper of his pants.
“Oh fuck me Petey, wanna get my hands on you…” Wade’s fingers fumble at the hem of Peter’s shirt and the buttons of his fly. Peter takes over, stripping off his own shirt, yanking it over his head and throwing it behind him to land in a heap with Wade’s.
Wade sits back for a moment as he stares at Peter in amazement. He runs his hands almost reverently over Peter's skin, rough fingers leaving trails of prickling heat in their wake. He murmurs to himself in disbelief. “Fuck you're perfect.”
Peter smiles, suddenly shy again for a moment under such an intense gaze. Then he reaches down and presses a hand against the tent in Wade’s jeans and slides a hand along the rigid length under the fabric. “Holy shit Wade,” he breathes, dragging his zipper down and reaching inside, sitting back so he can get his hands on Wade’s cock. His eyes widen as his fingers wrap around it, huge and hard under his touch. It's been a long time since he had another man’s cock in his hand and he's pretty sure he's never even seen one this big. He swallows hard, mouth suddenly dry, heart hammering. Well here's a size kink he never knew he had. His brain laughs at him. Really, you never knew that? He flushes and leans down slowly to flick his tongue over the head.
Wade lets out a wrecked groan and digs his fingers into Peter's sides. “Oh baby boy you're gonna kill me—“
With a wicked smirk Peter opens his mouth wider and sinks down as far as he can go, trying not to gag as Wade’s cock hits the back of his throat. It feels amazing; his skin is far from smooth even here, ridges and bumps slide over his tongue but despite the uneven texture, it feels like red hot silk. He worries vaguely that the scars might be painful, that he might be hurting him, but judging by the sounds coming from Wade’s throat and the way his eyes seem to have rolled back into his head, he figures he's doing ok.
Wade’s hands hover over his head as if he wants to grab his hair. The idea of Wade fucking into his mouth makes Peter’s own cock jump, pre-come dampening the front of his underwear. He shifts, pushing his cock against Wade’s leg as he sucks and bobs his head, opening his throat and sliding his tongue over the slit, tasting bitter salt.
“Jesus Petey you gotta stop.” Wade grabs his shoulder and pulls him up. Peter looks up, briefly hurt. “This is gonna be over way too soon if you don't stop.” Wade pants, “Fuckin’ all over, if you catch my drift?”
Peter grins at him and licks his lips, Wade drags him into a filthy kiss, licking his own taste from Peter’s mouth. Fire shoots down Peter’s spine as he fumbles with his own fly, dragging his pants down as best he can without breaking the kiss. Wade reaches blindly for him, wrapping a hand around his weeping cock and stroking him roughly. Peter almost cries out, biting at Wade’s lip as his hand slides over his length. He's not going to last long either. He reaches down to take Wade’s cock in his hand again, fingers stretching to encircle him as they kiss, all tongue and teeth and incoherent half-words. Peter raises himself on his knees either side of Wade’s lap and moves forward until Wade’s cock is under him, pressing at his hole.
Wade goes stock still and Peter opens his eyes to see an expression of shocked lust. He smiles, pushing down against Wade, pressing himself against his length. Considering only moments ago he was trying to talk himself out of kissing Wade he's aware he's gone from 0 to 60 in record time but now he knows what he wants. He wants Wade’s cock inside him, maybe more than he's ever wanted anything or anyone before.
“Need you to fuck me,” he whispers against Wade’s ear.
Wade groans and shoves him down, hands hard on his hips. “Holy zombie Jesus, you don't fuck about do you?” he says, gravel filled voice deeper than ever. He looks around the room, searching for something. “You got…”
Peter nods and gets up, kicking his pants off as he stands. “Stay there,” he commands.
Wade salutes lazily. “I may never move again.”
Peter rolls his eyes and heads to his room, grabs lube and a condom that is still just about in-date. It's been a depressingly long time since he'd last needed one.
When he walks back into the living room Wade is exactly where he left him, sprawled on the couch, legs apart, pants off now, holding his cock in one hand and jacking himself slowly while he watches Peter. His chest muscles flex as he moves his hand over his cock. He grins and Peter can almost feel the heat of his gaze as it trails over his body. His own erection bobs as he walks over. As he watches Wade he does briefly wonder how the hell he’s going to manage this with a cock that size, especially when it's been a while. Oh well, only one way to find out.
He carefully sits back astride Wade’s lap and Wade immediately grabs his ass and pulls him down again, grinding his cock into the space behind Peter's balls as he kisses him roughly. Peter drags his hands away from their unending exploration of Wade’s muscles to grab the condom. He looks at Wade, raising a questioning eyebrow. Wade nods furiously and Peter grins, rolling the condom over his length. He pours a handful of lube into his palm and slicks it over of Wade’s cock, fist moving slowly. Then, as Wade watches wide-eyed, he reaches behind himself and slides two slicked up fingers into his hole. He’s careful at first, circling and twisting them slowly as he presses in, baring down, gritting his teeth against the burn, getting used to the stretch. It has been a while and he knows he should take things slower this first time, but he really doesn't want to. He wants Wade to fuck him now. He feels like he's been waiting months for this.
Wade watches with rapt attention as he moves his fingers faster, adding another, willing his muscles to relax. He begins to kiss Peter’s neck, nipping and licking, sending waves of pleasure through Peter’s body, then pulls back again, eyes hooded as he watches Peter finger himself.
“That is the hottest thing I have ever seen. Look at you. You are like a billion times hotter than I ever imagined, and I have a fucking awesome imagination.”
Peter smirks. “Oh you imagined this huh?” he asks slyly.
“Fuck yes! Also I should probably mention that you need to be quieter when you jerk off.”
Peter flushes pink at the memory. “I could say the same to you," he whispers, dragging his teeth across Wade’s earlobe.
Wade groans. “I didn't freak you out?”
Peter shakes his head. “No it was…inspiring,” he says, breath hitching as his fingers brush his prostate.
Wade shudders and mouthes at his shoulder. “You ready baby boy? I'm not gonna last much longer watching you do that.”
Peter removes his fingers, feeling suddenly empty and sits up on his knees. Wade runs his hands down his back, squeezing his ass again. He looks questioningly at Peter. “You sure?” he asks, still sounding like he expects to wake up any moment. Peter nods and sinks slowly down, swallowing in anticipation as he feels the blunt head of Wade’s cock pushing into his hole.
The burn and stretch is briefly agonising at first, even with the prep. Peter cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure and drops his head forward against Wade’s neck, breathing hard. He feels the vibration under his cheek as Wade makes a sound almost like a growl, deep in his throat, his entire body seeming taut, stomach muscles tensing as he fights the urge to thrust.
“Holy mother fucking crap Petey. Fuuuuuck…” Wade tightens his grip, blunt nails digging into Peter’s skin, leaving marks that he hopes won't fade too quickly. “Fuck me, you feel good. You're so fucking tight.”
Peter moans a wordless response, too far gone for speech. Finally he feels himself relax enough to manage one word, breathed against boiling skin. “Move.”
Wade doesn't need telling twice. He thrusts up as Peter bares down on him. Sweat-soaked skin slaps, Peter’s eyes water, his thighs burn as he lifts himself again, feeling Wade’s cock sliding in and out of him, every thrust hitting the sweet spot and sending sparks showering through his blood. Heat coils in his belly.
“Fuck Wade. Oh shit that feels good, fuck me.” He doesn't even know where these words are coming from. He's never usually this vocal but he just can't stop himself. If he paused to think about it he’d probably spontaneously combust from sheer mortification but as it is, telling Wade exactly what he wants really turns him on.
Wade doesn't speak, he just pushes his hips up to meet Peter’s every move. His broken moans become gasping grunts and breathless, meaningless sounds as Peter writhes on his cock, his own bouncing and dripping against Wade’s stomach. The fire is spreading through Peter’s body with every thrust. He grips Wade’s shoulders, crushes their mouths together and swallows Wade’s warning as he comes hard, painting Wade’s abs with streaks of white, biting his lip until he draws blood. As he comes he feels Wade give one last, stuttering thrust as he comes inside him with a deep groan, almost like he's in pain.
Suddenly boneless, Peter collapses against Wade’s chest. Huge arms wrap around him, his damp hair sticks to scarred, sweat drenched skin. There is silence except for panting and the hammering of Wade’s heart under his head.
Despite the thundering of his own heart Peter is floating. His head is spinning but calm. He can't remember the last time he felt so utterly safe and relaxed. His bones have turned to jelly and his skin tingles all over.
Wade reaches down and pinches Peter's ass hard.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Just checking if I'm dreaming. It didn't hurt so I'm guessing I am. Which is ok, it's an awesome dream.” Wade says, sounding philosophical.
Peter smacks his arm. “That was me dumbass. You're supposed to pinch yourself.”
“Ah…” a pause, “so this isn't a dream?”
Peter grins and presses his lips to Wade’s damp skin. “No,” he says, “Unless it's one of those mass hallucinations,” he adds thoughtfully as he lifts himself carefully off Wade’s softening cock before lying back against his chest.
Wade grins and drags his nails gently up his back, making him shiver. Peter's eyelids feel heavy. He should go to bed but he doesn't want to move.