Chapter 1: In or Out?
This was the last place that Peter expected to be. To be frank, it was an absolute shit hole. But he was between a rock and a starving place. His bank account was looking worse for wear and taking picture of Spider-Man didn’t exactly have him rolling in dough. He had no choice but to start looking into other revenue options. He didn’t know the exact details of how he ended up in front of Sister Margaret’s, ready to be scrubbing unknown substances off surfaces. He might have overheard an alley conversation on patrol about it and he might have set a reminder on his phone to look into it.
God, this place really was shady. The noise from inside leaked through the door and Peter would have one hell of a headache if he hadn’t already steeled himself against the onslaught of assault. He shoved his hands a little deeper into the pockets of his over sized hoodie. His stomach rumbled and he frowned. Right… he hadn’t eaten yet today. It was a very physical reminder of why he had come here.
The nape of his neck began to prickle and he stood a little straighter. Good job, Peter. That’ll intimidate them. Bristle like a little five foot six bear. He nearly rolled his eyes at himself.
“I wouldn’t recommend going in there, cupcake. Those nasty heathen will eat you right up,” said a rough voice from behind him.
Peter almost replied with a snarky ‘I’d like to see them try’ but held his tongue. He looked over his shoulder to see a large man draped in a red and black suit that did nothing to conceal the strength of the muscles beneath. He was loaded up with weapons. Peter’s spider sense should have been going wild but he didn’t feel threatened. Intrigued? Absolutely.
“Oh soggy biscuits! You’re just… is it my birthday? What brought you to this dumpster, pumpkin? You are way too pretty to be hanging around here. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“I haven’t had a bedtime since I was 12,” Peter muttered dumbly. He was more than a little distracted by the way this man’s body seemed to radiate danger and yet he could only admire it.
“Dude… I’m 23.” He was glowering. He knew that he looked younger than most. He was still hoping to grow out of his baby face. His eyes were still just as large and wide as they had been years ago, despite the things he had seen. The large glasses he wore more out of habit than need didn’t help at all. They did conceal the soft littering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks though.
“You’re a baby! You definitely should not be here, lil’ one. Off you go. Shoo. Before someone takes a bite out of you.” Peter was sure he heard him mutter ‘someone being me’.
“I think I can handle it. Thanks though.” He meant it. It was probably the only nice thing that would be said to him once he opened that door and it made him feel just a little bit better. He shuffled over to the door and gave it a yank. He was instantly overwhelmed by the noise and the scent. The air was smokey yet stale and bitter with alcohol. His nose wrinkled immediately.
He heard a sigh behind him and suddenly there was a hand on the door and a body behind him. Stupidly, he looked over his shoulder again. Jesus. Mister tall, dark and strapped was towering over him and radiating heat. His mouth might have fallen open a little.
“Since you’re so eager, I’ll be a gentleman and hold the door for ya. In you go, peaches. The faster you get in there, the sooner you’ll be scurrying out. And I’m all about getting a view of that ass when it goes.”
“What makes you think I’ll be in a rush to leave?” It doesn’t occur to him that they’re standing in the doorway, his back nearly pressed into his chest. Peter continues to stare up at the man, wondering at the heat in his core.
He groans. “Fuck, baby boy. You gotta stop looking up at me like that. You put porn stars to shame with those big browns. I bet you get whatever you want with that face.”
He scoffed. Not even a little bit. “Hardly. I’m very familiar with the word no.”
“Who could possibly say no to you?” He sounded genuinely offended.
“Just about everyone I’ve ever met. In fact, I expect to hear a no in about two minutes when I find this Weasel guy.” Peter is fully prepared to be shot down. He is also fully prepared to try to have to sell himself, humbleness be damned.
The masked face tilts and looks at him curiously. If Peter wasn’t often surrounded by masks and unnatural beings, he might wonder how it was that the white the made up the man’s eyes moved to display emotions.
“What could a sweetheart like you want with a dickhead like Weasel?”
Somehow the confusion on the masked face only seemed to grow. Had his response been so surprising?
“In or out; close my fucking door,Wade!”
“Of course, shnookums!” The masked man called back.
Wade. Wade’s a nice name. Wade is the kind of masculine name he could see belonging to a guy like this. It was also the kind of name he could see himself uttering later when he was alone. He hadn’t even realized he had turned toward the taller man until this moment. He was face to, well, chest actually but he was looking up at the mask trying to figure out what was happening here.
“You heard him, honey buns. In or out?” Wade said looking down at him.
His reply was mindless and simple. It was also absolutely going to get him into all kinds of trouble somewhere down the road. He’d worry about that when the time came. Right now, he was hungry and curious and a little delirious.
Peter sat on a bar stool that was both slippery and sticky and decided to throw his pants in the wash as soon as possible. Weasel was staring at him hard while Wade sat beside him. He struggled not to fidget. Wade had been kind enough to make a brief introduction.
“Weasel, this honey pie here came to see you. Isn’t that somethin’ else?”
Weasel appraised him quickly. He probably saw a small, perhaps under fed, baby-faced male hiding behind large glasses with hair that a brush would never tame. He really hoped his face was portraying determination and not the apprehension that lay heavily in his stomach.
“And what can I do for you, ‘honey pie’?” Weasel had his arms stretched out to grip the counter.
Peter grimaced instantly. It didn’t have the same ring to it coming from the barkeep. “Peter,” he corrected quickly.
“What can I do for you, Peter?”
He cleared his throat. “Word on the street is that you could use an extra set of hands around here.”
“What kind of streets are you hanging out on?” Weasel asked offhandedly, already moving to wipe off a counter and shift things behind the counter. He was being written off.
“The useful ones?” He offered pathetically.
“No luck, kid. I’d spend more time watching you than getting shit done. Try somewhere else.”
“Do you honestly think I’d be here if I hadn’t tried everywhere else first?” He was feeling a little snarky. “I can handle myself. Besides, I’m a hard worker and I need very little direction. This place is a wreck. When was the last time someone wiped down these stools?”
“Awe, Petey Pie, is that gorgeous ass of yours all sticky? I can help you with that.” Wade provided quickly. He was clearly waiting for the right moment to slip back into the conversation. He had been on the edge of his seat thus far.
Peter felt his cheeks flush. “I’m fine. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been sticky and it won’t be the last.” There were two resounding groans; one that was clearly disgruntled and the other inherently pornographic.
“Look, I’m not asking for a full time position. My schedule doesn’t really allow for regular hours. Just a couple days a week, a few hours. If you don’t think it’s worth it after two weeks, I never show my ugly mug in here again. Deal?”
“Ugly mug!? Have you looked in a mirror lately, you sweet angel baby? You’re proof that god is a woman!”
Weasel looked at him speculatively and then around the bar. It wasn’t the kind of place someone stumbled into without any idea of the rough and tumble miscreants that frequented it. He looked over Wade and raised a brow. Clearly the resident smartass had taken a liking to the kid. That was something at least.
“One week. And you don’t get paid if I decide not to keep you on.”
“One week and you pay me at the end of every shift.” Peter countered while biting back a smile.
Weasel frowned and scrubbed his hands over his face before groaning. “Fuck. Fine. One week with pay.”
Peter smiled brightly and nearly lept over the counter to hug the man. “You’re a good dude, Weasel. My cupboards thank you!”
“Yeah, Yeah. I’m just a payday fairy to you people. You want anything Wade or are you just gonna keep staring at the kid? Order something or get the fuck out of here. I have work to do.”
“Oh, I dunno. Petey Pie, do you want something to drink? It’s on me, of course.” Wade was resting his head on his fist, propped up on the counter and very carefully watching Peter.
If Peter was smart, he’d say no. He’d get the hell out of there and go home. Peter wasn’t that smart. He was, however, more than a little interested in the masked man beside him. He bit the corner of his lower lip and contemplated his next move. He could stay for a drink. He learned a long time ago that his enhanced healing factor meant that in the time his body took to process alcohol, he was already sober. One drink wouldn’t hurt at all.
“I wouldn’t say no to a beer.”
There was definitely a smile under that mask. “Yes! Barkeep, an ale for me and my comrade!” He hollered at Weasel who just flipped him off but was definitely getting them drinks. “So, Petey Sweetie, why doesn’t your schedule allow for a normal gig? This really is the last resort. You’re far too pretty to be hanging out in this dungeon.”
Peter was pretty good at deflecting this kind of inquiry. He had years to practice. He mimicked Wade’s elbow on the counter, grateful that his hoodie kept his skin from coming in contact with the surface. “So, you think I’m pretty? I could ask you the same thing. What brings you ‘round these parts, Wade?” He may have put a little emphasis on the man’s name.
“Touche, Petey. Excellent deflection skills. But you really don’t know who I am?”
“Isn’t that the point of a mask?”
“Oh, Honey Bunches of Oats. If I were Spidey, sure. But I’m more like the red and yellow tin man. My identity isn’t much of a secret. Hell, it’s on my business card. Did your aunt and uncle keep you locked under the stairs growing up?”
His stomach did a series of somersaults at the mention of his alter ego. He ignored that in favor of the Harry Potter reference. “No, they gave me a nice, soft bed. They’re good people like that.”
Wade chuckled and proceeded to pull a small card out of one of his many pouches. He handed it to Peter who took it leisurely with his free hand. He didn’t look at it right away. Instead, his hand fiddled with the card for a moment. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared at the masked man for a moment. He could feel the radiating glee from the attention but he suspected there was some amount of worry at Peter not looking at the card.
“Is this just a ploy to give me your number?” He asked with genuine curiosity. He wasn’t used to being hit on. If this is how it felt, he could get used to it.
“You caught me! Now what are you gonna do with me?” Wade teased.
Peter laughed and looked down at the card. On one side there were digits. He flipped it over. Oh… oh, fuck.
AYE! What a rapid update. I wrote most of this at work and as per usual posted asap.
I mentioned the fic where Wade calls Peter Bambi in my last note. A couple people tracked it down for me! THANKS A MILLION! If you haven't read "I'll Tell You Know Lies" by doctorestranged, then you truly need to!
More Petey Pie and DP to come soon! Smooches and gratitude!
Okay. So, Wade was Deadpool. Surprise hit him like a truck. Mostly because he had never heard a good thing about the mercenary in all his time as Spider-Man. In fact, everything he had heard had been a warning, like a big red button marked do not push. Tony’s exact words had been “Do not engage, underoos. Hightail it out of there if you meet this guy. Understood?”
“How will I know it’s him?”
“He’ll make sure you know. He can’t keep his mouth shut.”
“Giving you a run for your money, Mr. Stark?” Peter had asked hoping to lighten the mood.
“Hardy har-har, you little brat. Seriously, Peter. He’s not someone you need to involve yourself with.”
Except… now Peter wanted to involve himself. He was incredibly surprised by Deadpool. He was sweet. Maybe too flirtatious but Peter was digging it. Nothing would come of it. Where was the harm? He couldn’t remember the last time someone tried to flirt with him, had given him all their attention. Was it so wrong to enjoy that? Especially when the guy doing it looked like he could hold Peter up for hours without breaking a sweat.
Woah! Slow down there, Peter. One drink, some light flirting and giving Weasel his number, then he was out of there. No need to get ahead of himself.
“Y-your face,” Wade said between laughs, “your face is all scrunched up. Priceless, Baby boy. Just priceless.”
Peter flushed and looked away from the card to see Weasel placing two pints between them. “I just wasn’t expecting… that. That’s all.”
“No one ever expects me. That’s why I’m so good at my job. Right, Weasel?”
“Good at your job. That’s a stretch. You paying for this now or am I adding this to the ever growing tab?”
“Tap that tab, my friend.” Wade said before looking back to Peter. He watched as the younger man raised the pint to his lips and took a slow sip. When he came away from the drink he licked the foam from his upper lip. “So, hey there, cuteness. I’m Deadpool. Sometimes DP, sometimes Wade. But you can call me Daddy or just call me.”
Peter nearly choked. Was it getting warmer? He certainly felt warm, unbearably hot. His heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest rapidly. God, he was already crushing on the guy. He needed to get out of there before he said something stupid. He was gonna blow it...or Wade. He groaned at the thought.
“Aw, come on, baby doll. I thought that was a good one.”
“It was. It really was.” Peter replied breathlessly and noticed the way Wade inched closer. He was totally invading his space and Peter was enjoying it. Holy guacamole, Wade was big. “Jesus! You’re huge.” It slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“Oh-ho-ho. Petey pie, you just notice?” Wade was so close now. Too close. Peter could lean in a few inches and close what little distance remained. He could touch him, feel the body under all that artillery. “Does someone have a size kink I should know about?”
“I don’t even have any kinks that I know about, let alone including you in.” He willed himself to shut up. Just stop talking, he scolded himself. What was happening here? He came in to get a job and instead he was getting all hot and bothered by a guy who kills people for a living?
The heat between them was palpable. Peter, who seemed unfortunately aware of everything at all times, found himself focused solely on the man beside him. The things, the people, the world around them seemed to shift out of focus. His attention had slipped away from everything but this moment. He licked his lips again. He was ready to crawl out of his skin.
“That almost sounds like an invite, baby boy.” Wade said soft and low, secretly.
“Only almost?” Peter replied just as soft.
“Fuck. You’re a little brat, aren’t you?” If his mouth wasn’t covered by a mask, Peter was sure he could have felt Wade’s breath on his skin. Damn, he really hated masks. He’d also really like to see Wade’s eyes.
“That’s not the first time I’ve been called a brat. It’s just usually followed by some sort of speech about responsibilities and choices.”
“A speech wasn’t what I had in mind. There’s an easier way to deal with brats like you, Petey Pie.”
“And that is?” Did he know how intoxicating it was when he used pet names? He had to know. Peter felt like he was on fire and he didn’t know how to make it stop.
“Gimme a call sometime and find out.”
He was not proud of the sound he made. It was obscene. He felt like his cheeks would never be rid of the red that surely stained them. He had to look away. He broke eye contact and threw back the rest of his beer eagerly. He nearly slammed it down. He cleared his throat. He looked back at Deadpool, because that’s who this was. He was flirting with someone he had actively been warned away from by just about everyone he looked up. He was here to get a job, not court danger. He gave the man a soft, polite smile and said in the steadiest voice he could manage, “I’ll think about it.”
Without waiting for a response, he stood from his stool, doing his best to ignore the sound his jeans made as they tore away from whatever gunk he had been sitting in. He didn’t look back as he walked over to where Weasel was chatting at some over sized patron. Was anyone here proportioned like a normal human? He waited for a moment before seizing the opportunity to exchange numbers with the barkeep. They agreed he’d come in the next day to start. Weasel reiterated that it was a “piss poor idea” and that he wasn’t going to babysit him.
When he finally made it to the door, Wade was watching him. He looked back and gave a little finger wave. “Bye, Wade.” The little finger wave he got back shouldn’t have made his stomach flip but it totally did.
I don't even know what to say except that I am just loving all the comments! Positive vibes and support make it so much easier to write. Thank y'all for the good mood! Hopefully, I can bust out a couple more chapters rapid-like before I end up making you kind folks wait for updates! I don't expect this to be a super long fic, but I've said that before.
Thanks oodles and oodles for reading!
It was just a few short days later when he received the first message from Weasel. It was simple. Come by around 4pm. He could do that. He had finished with class for the day, patrol wasn’t until much later and he had already turned in a few photos to the Daily Bugle. He was currently laying on his bed, fresh out of the shower, flipping through articles online about Deadpool. Okay, he was curious. The guy didn’t get a whole lot of press and what he did get was usually just by association.
Probably best for a mercenary, right? But Wade didn’t seem like the kind of person who kept a low profile. If Peter had been looking for any information, he was sorely disappointed until he stumbled upon his social media. Boy, did Wade post some interesting content. Usually masked selfies with disgruntled looking X-Men. He seemed to really enjoy posting pictures of a clearly pissed off Wolverine. There were even a few shots of the occasional Avenger. Tony, who always enthusiastically took pictures with Spider-Man but never Peter, looked especially put off. It made Peter chuckle.
He heaved a sigh and stretched as he stood. He should probably get going unless he wanted to be late. He couldn’t very well go swinging to Sister Margaret’s. Well… he could but that was a whole series of problems he wasn’t ready to deal with. He sincerely doubted they wanted their neighborhood Spidey hanging out close by.
He stepped into a pair of battered jeans that had seen better days and could probably hold his shape without him being in them. He rummaged around for a sweater and pulled out an old gray knit. He raised the fabric to his nose. After a quick assessment, he deemed it acceptable and pulled it on. He grabbed his glasses and the essentials before heading out.
When he finally made it to his destination, he was struck by how different it looked during the day. It was just as run down but it looked unassuming in the light of the sun. It seemed less shady somehow. He didn’t bother with hesitation this time around. He simply opened the door and went in.
“Oh. You actually showed up,” Weasel sounded disappointed.
“I’ve been known to do that when I’m told to be somewhere,” Peter quipped.
“Yeah well. We’ll see how long you stick around.”
“As long as you’re paying, I’ll be here.”
Weasel grimaced at the reminder of his financial agreement. “Right. Well, there’s a closet in the back with cleaning supplies. I imagine you can figure out what needs done.”
Right. Weasel had already told him that he wouldn’t be babysitting, which meant that it was up to Peter to take on whatever tasks needed done. Being self sufficient was one of his strong suits. He would grab whatever there was to clean with and just work his way from top to bottom. He was definitely going to give the stools a thorough cleaning. He gave Weasel a salute that got an eye roll and made his way to the closet. He squinted at the supplies. They looked like they hadn’t been touched in years.
He was on his hands and knees scrubbing the bathroom floor when he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. There was soft tingling at the edges of his mind. He was about to look over his shoulder when he heard a soft groan.
“Heeeello kitty. That ass should be illegal.”
Peter chuckled and sat back on his haunches and finally looked over his shoulder. Deadpool was leaning against the door with the kind of casual body language that said he was content to stay like that for a long time. “Hi, Wade.”
“Hiya, Petey Pie. I wasn’t expecting the pleasure of your visage today.”
“I do kind of work here now.”
Wade gave a soft gasp of surprise. “I kind of work here too! Maybe I’ll see you around the water cooler. We can trade secrets.”
Peter pressed his lips together to stop a smile. “I like secrets.”
“I bet you do, baby boy. I’d also bet you have a few I’d be interested in.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’m an open book.” And a total fucking liar.
Wade hummed and it went straight to Peter’s core. “We’ll see about that. I suppose I should let you get back to work before Weasel yells at me for distracting his staff.”
“You just want me to start scrubbing again so you can stare at my ass,” Peter laughed.
“I would never!” Peter raised a brow and fixed him with one of the looks that he picked up from Tony. “Okay. I would. But who would blame me. That is one ripe peach, sweetums.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
He didn’t wait for Wade to leave to go back to his original position. A wave of satisfaction rolled down his spine as he felt eyes on his denim clad behind. He most definitely didn’t arch his back just a little more and he certainly wasn’t scrubbing the floor harder just to rock his body back and forth for the mercenary’s benefit.
“Definitely a brat,” he heard whispered before Wade heaved himself away.
He dropped his head to hide the giant smile that took over his face. There was something about his interactions with the older man that made him feel alive. He felt attractive and coy. He was overwhelmed with the need to tease and taunt. He wanted to draw something out of Wade. He didn’t know what yet. He just knew he needed it.
He did his best to focus on cleaning but when he moved to the lobby, if you could call it that, his gaze kept drifting to Wade’s back as he conversed with Weasel at the bar. He shook his head and set his determination to scrubbing table tops. He managed to get through all the tables and booths before he looked back to the bar and saw Wade watching him. He gave a confused head tilt. Wade waved his fingers back like a teenage girl.
“Is it that interesting to watch me?”
“Of course, pumpkin. You put on quite a show.”
“Well, it’s not free. If you’re going to stare, you better get your wallet out.”
Wade laughed and rested his elbow on the bar top and his cheek found his hand. “Is that so, baby boy? Because I’d be willing to put my money where that mouth is.”
Peter flushed. Oh. He had to go and open his mouth. Way to go, Parker.
All these comments are just giving me life! Thanks oodles! I'm gonna try to crank out a couple more chapters today while my muse is alive but I also have a request for some Washington/Hamilton fic that I should get a jump on. So, fingers crossed my brain can get it all accomplished. With copious amounts of coffee comes great creativity.
Thanks for reading, friends!
Peter couldn’t quite figure out how to feel about his last interaction with Wade. Weasel had interrupted them, bitching at Wade about something that Peter couldn’t find himself interested in because he was too busy thinking about Wade’s mouth. But then Wade was leaving, blowing a dramatic kiss to Peter from the door and his mask definitely winked. Peter was left standing there with a flush and a whole lot of confusion.
He wasn’t really able to think about it much more after that. He had class and patrol and the rare project with the avengers. He had spent sleepless nights with Dr. Banner, running tests and bouncing theories back and forth over Thai take out. Between the science and dealing with petty crimes on the streets, he scarcely had time to eat and sleep, let alone think about the mercenary he was flirting with.
Weasel had, almost painfully, admitted that the help was nice. Peter helped clean and stock things and it usually only took a couple hours. It wasn’t much but his fridge wasn’t completely barren anymore. He was actually kind of grateful for the opportunity and he didn’t hate sticking around when things got busier.
The clientele wasn’t as awful as he assumed. Actually, most of the guys there seemed like halfway decent people. A little rough around the edges and maybe morally not the most sound but they each seemed to have some code of ethics. He didn’t agree with all of them but he too followed some pretty weird rules. That’s the thing about being a vigilante; not everyone sees you as a hero. He learned a long time ago that not everyone approved of his work. Hell, he actively provided a man who loathed his spider persona with pictures to support articles that bashed him.
Well, most of the people at Sister Margaret’s were decent. But Weasel was right. There was the occasional asshole that got handsy or outright belligerent. Peter was usually pretty good at handling it delicately. He simply smiled and dodged it or ignored the comments until they lost interest. And despite what Weasel said, he did babysit. If he was around and someone was pestering Peter, he shooed them off.
Except, Weasel was in his “office” at the moment and Peter was watching the bar. He felt woefully under trained for this. And now some asshole was leering at him and trying to get his attention. Peter had provided him with a drink and then busied himself with any other task he could find behind the counter. He heard an irritating stream of hey’s directed at him. They raised in volume and ferocity the longer he ignored it.
“What? You’re just gonna ignore me? Don’ be like that. Come on. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Peter heaved a sigh and stared dryly at the man through his glasses. “I honestly doubt that.”
“Everyone’s got a price. I bet you could show me a good time.”
“We have different ideas about a good time, I’m sure.” Peter grabbed the empty glass from in front of the man. He should have ignored him. There was a meaty hand grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him across the counter. He didn’t bat an eye as the man’s boozy breath waved across his face in sticky waves.
“I want to see what that mouth can do besides talk shit, you little bitch.”
Peter was about to use a little bit of super strength to pry the hand from his person but before he had a chance the man’s face was being shoved roughly into the counter and the barrel of a gun was inside his mouth. Peter watched his wide eyes. Wade had come out of nowhere. Was it wrong that he found the situation a little… well, hot.
“Does someone need a lesson in manners? Maybe Daddypool should teach you right from wrong, mister grabby hands.” Wade said as he shoved the gun a little further into the man’s mouth. “I wanna see what that mouth does besides harass cute boys who obviously aren’t interested. Let’s find out, shall we?”
The man held his hands up in resignation and mumbled apologetically around the gun. Peter was too busy staring at Deadpool to think about him. He was radiating intent to kill and yet his spidey sense wasn’t reacting to it. He wasn’t on edge. At least, he wasn’t feeling defensive. Aroused and ready to climb over the counter and straddle Wade? Yes.
“You okay, baby boy?” Wade asked as he looked away from his target and assessed Peter.
Peter pursed his lips to hide his pleasure and nodded. He mumbled his response. “I’m good.” He couldn’t exactly tell Wade that he could wipe the floor with the grotesque man between them. He couldn’t tell him that had he not interfered, Peter was going to casually break his fingers while he smiled sweetly.
Weasel chose that moment to come back to the counter. “What in the actual fuck is going on here?”
“This cock for brains here was getting real handsy with Bambi.”
“Bambi?” Peter whispered to himself. Was that him? What the hell did that even mean?
“And of course you came to the rescue. Either take it outside or get your gun out of his mouth. I don’t need blood on my counter tops.”
“If you get brains on the counter, I’m not cleaning it up.”
“Oh, yes you are. That’s what you get paid for.”
“I want a raise if I’m dealing with body parts.”
“I’ll give you a raise if you deal with my body parts,” Wade said with a wink as he slowly withdrew the barrel from the whining man below him. He grabbed his hair and raised his head just off the counter. He leaned down and whispered in the man’s ear. “Let’s be more respectful in the future, huh?” He pressed a gentle kiss to the man’s ear before slamming his face into the counter once more, effectively knocking the man out.
Peter laughed and began pouring the man a drink. He didn’t feel as weird about flirting with Wade anymore. It was just becoming natural. This was their dynamic. And if he went home and jacked off to the image of Wade’s hands gripping a pistol or those gloved hands pulling hair… well, that was his business.
Ooooo, back to back updates? You're welcome. I'm chugging coffee and listening to my gym playlist while I write. Maybe one more update to come?
Thanks for reading!
It seemed every time he showed up at Sister Margaret’s lately, he was always worse for wear. He was currently sporting the remnants of a black eye and a small cut on his lip. He felt fine, of course. He looked a hell of a lot worse than he felt. He had listened to Aunt May fuss over dinner. She swore when she saw his face and scolded him for not being more careful. Over the years the scolding got a little shorter. It was down to her clicking her tongue and shaking her head. She did however fuss over his weight and tried to load him up with groceries before he left. He had some small success in avoiding being shoved out the door with the contents of her cabinets. He was grateful for her generosity but he also knew that she was struggling in her own way.
He kept his head down as he walked through the door. Weasel was looking over some documents at the counter and, having become mostly accustomed to Peter’s presence simply gave a nod and a passing hey. Pete heaved a sigh of relief. If possible, he preferred to avoid lying to people he interacted with frequently. It always made his stomach roll. He grabbed a fresh cloth and began was diluting sanitizer in a bucket when the hairs on his neck stood up.
He didn’t need to see him to know Wade was there. He also knew he didn’t need to make his presence known. Wade would come find him. He always did. He felt the familiar fluttering in his stomach at the thought. Wade was becoming something of a regular in Peter’s life. He was pretty content with what they had at the moment.
He liked the way Wade flattered him and seemed genuinely giddy when in his presence. He liked the way Wade seemed content with just being in the same space as him, watching from a distance as he worked. When they talked, Peter always had a good time. He liked the way Wade talked. He was so full of life, so full of energy. And when Wade let his mouth run, Peter’s mind ran with it. The fantasies he had...
“Well, hello again, stranger.”
Remembering his face, Peter tossed a cheerful greeting over his shoulder. “Hi, Wade.”
“Not quite the extravagant greeting that I was hoping for. I’ve been gone for a fortnight! I’d say that warrants a hug at the very least. Come on, honeypie. Right into Daddypool’s arms! Let me wrap you up and carry you off into the sunset!”
It was true. Wade had been gone and Peter, admittedly had missed him. Funny how quickly someone can worm their way into your life, your heart. His heart began to beat just a little faster at the idea of having Wade’s arms around him. They hadn’t touched since the night they met. Peter could still recall the heat of a large chest pressed into his back. In fact, that was how most of his fantasies started. And then hands would trail down his sides and grip his hips before working their way into his pants and cupping him and…. WOAH! Bring it back to reality, Parker.
“Daddypool? I’m definitely not giving you a hug now.” He said with a chuckle and turned off the faucet.
“Aw, come on.” Wade’s voice seemed closer now. Too close maybe? “You don’t like it?”
Peter knew Wade was right behind him now. He could smell the leather and lead. He could feel the heat rolling off him. He wanted to sink back into the warmth. He wanted to wrap himself around the merc and paw at him until they were both breathless. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it. That was half the problem.
Between the pet names and Deadpool’s propensity for calling himself Daddypool, Peter was having something of a sexual crisis. He was constantly plagued by images of Wade petting his head and praising him while he knelt before the mercenary. It was becoming something of a problem. He was also more than a little curious about how the older man would react if he called him “Daddypool”.
“I think you like it enough for the both of us,” Peter offered as he dropped the dry cloth into the cleaning solution. He watched as the fabric soaked up the water and darkened before sinking towards the bottom of the bucket. He focused on it intently. Until he felt arms wrap around his waist and a shoulder rest on his shoulder. His breath hitched and he lost the ability to function.
“Is someone pouting?” He heard low in his ear. Wade’s voice was gravelly but still light. He was still playing.
The soft gasp that left him was poorly timed. He felt the soft fire of desire beginning to burn in his groin. Wade never touched him. They flirted and played and inched closer but neither of them had crossed the line before. His lashes fluttered as he tried to regain the ability to think.
He forced out a chuckle and stretched up to playfully pat the side of Wade’s masked head but the motion caused his back to arch and his ass was now pressed against Wade. Jesus! Way to go, clumsy. He was now pressed against Wade in a way he only dreamed about.
He focused on his reply. He patted the side of the mask three times with this finger tips. “Wishful thinking, Wade. I’m glad you’re back though.” He said as light heartedly as he was able.
“I think you mean to say ‘I missed you’,” Wade nearly growled out against him as his arms tightened around Peter’s waist, pulling him closer. “Right, Baby Boy?”
Fuck. Peter wished he’d stop calling him that. It made his head fuzzy. He had maybe asked Weasel about Wade a couple times while he was gone. It didn’t mean anything! It was just curiosity. What did they say about curiosity and the cat? Oh, right. It killed the stupid cat. He should be so lucky. He wished he was dead and that the earth would swallow him up in that moment because he was suddenly feeling very needy and kitten like.
He arched against the pressure. His head fell back against Wade’s chest and he sighed. Half out of frustration with the whole situation and half with relief at the contact. He would have material for those lonely nights for months.
“Missed you, Wade,” he nearly gasped out.
There was something erotic in the air. And when had his eyes closed? He was half ready to bend over and beg Wade to just rut against him, to relieve him of his senses and the absolute pressure building in his core.
Wade hummed and Peter felt it through the mask on his neck. “I missed you too, sweetums. Were you good while I was gone?” Was Wade always this sultry? Peter had never felt so charged up. He didn’t mean to nod his and the soft yes that escaped his lips would haunt him later. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Oh, god. Peter was ready to melt into a puddle. He was dreaming, right? This couldn’t possibly be happening. He thought he could feel Wade nuzzling his neck and those large, leather clad hands were definitely gripping his hips now. He could feel fingers spread over his bones and laying against the edges of his pants. He knew his breathing was loud and stunted.
“Are you done pouting now? Gonna give ol’ Wade the hug he deserves?”
Moving seemed impossible. But the idea of wrapping his arms around Wade had him ready to jump. He bit his lower lip as his face scrunched up. He was really getting off on whatever game Wade was playing. If Wade decided to give him solicitous requests at that moment, Peter would comply blindly. He was beyond reason. He nodded. “Mhmm.”
He might have, not that it was anybody’s business, whined as Wade pulled his arms away to allow him to turn around. He received a soft curse in response to the embarrassing sound. He turned quickly and wrapped his arms around the taller man. He pressed as close and as tight as possible. He was comforted by the solidity he felt. He knew that whatever Wade was off doing was dangerous. That was a given. Hell, what he did on most nights was dangerous. His face was proof of that. But feeling the strength of unmoving muscle beneath his palms reassured him that Wade was okay. And as aroused as he was, that was just as important as his arousal.
But now that he knew Wade was okay, his arousal took precedence. He nuzzled into the chest before him and stretched and wiggled against the merc. He felt hands move from hugging his back to trailing down his his sides to grip his hips again. He knew that Wade was probably resisting the urge to cup his ass and was sorely disappointed that he hadn’t. Wade was always going on and on about his “bubble butt”.
“For the record, I wasn’t pouting,” he mumbled against Wade’s chest, still refusing to look up just yet.
“Oh no?” Wade asked playfully. “Sure seemed that way from where I was standing.”
“I don’t pout.” Peter grumbled defiantly.
“Riiiiight and unicorns aren’t real. Don’t worry, sugar plum. I’ll make sure you have something to think about before I leave next time. Gotta keep that big brain busy, right?”
Peter bit his lip and muttered to himself more than to the other man. “I’d rather have something else keeping me busy right now.” He wriggled unconsciously.
“Holy mother of… you little brat. I- could you just- for fucks….Pete. Stop moving. Baby Boy…”
Peter was only half aware that his face was now tucked into the curve of Wade’s neck and the he was practically grinding against him like Deadpool was his own personal pleasure post. He was also emitting shaky breaths and soft noises that had no place in his place of employment, no matter how shadey it may be.
He stiffened and pulled back. “Jesus. I have never… I don’t know what came over me… I- oh god. Wade, I am so sorry!” He looked up at the merc with wide, apologetic eyes. His glasses were askew and his cheeks flushed a brilliant red.
“Oh god, Petey Pie. Don’t apologi- what the fuck happened your face?”
In an instant, the sexual tension dissipated and Wade went from playful to incredibly serious. Peter’s spidey sense went into overdrive. Just great...
WOOOOAH BUDDY! I have no idea where this chapter came from... like... at all. I started writing it with the intention of Wade being pissy and worried about Peter's face being hurt and Pete brushing it off and somehow ended up with a very sexually frustrated spidey and a very erotic, dom Wade... thoughts?
Anywhoooo... it's been a while since I updated. Life is crazy. Thanks oodles and noodles for reading. Smooches and gratitude, kiddos!
“Peter, who did that to you?” The hand on his chin, holding his face in place, tilted for easy assessment, was gentle but the words were sharp.
“Rather than who, what is more accurate.” Peter said as he looked away.
At the very least, the elephant in the room was going unaddressed. He wasn’t quite ready to explain his earlier actions as he didn’t really understand them himself. He’d never had such an intense response to someone before. His previous encounters with partners had been clumsy or tender. He wasn’t used to burning desire and an inability to function or think. They hadn’t even kissed yet. He was so screwed. Or maybe the fact that he wasn’t screwed was the problem?
All of the sexual tension had to pushed him over the edge. It didn’t help that Wade was like sex clad in a walking, shit-talking leather suit. And then there was the fact that Peter hadn’t even held hands with someone romantically in years.
Gwen, bless her beautiful soft self, had been an intellectual romance. They would stay up late huddled together talking about science until they couldn’t form sentences. Their romance had been soft. It was the kind of sweet highschool love that anyone would be lucky to have. A few soft kisses here and there, holding hands and falling asleep next to each other. And then Gwen came to grips with her sexuality. Peter held her hand and assured her that nothing was different because she wasn’t different.
MJ was different; an attempt at something that was beyond him. He was positively stuck by her. She was quick witted and had a sharp tongue and one hell of an attitude. He loved her instantly. He was fresh out of highschool and still new to college. She was so fiercely herself and he envied her the ability to own exactly who she was. She kissed him with passion and they often woke up in the morning in a tangle of limbs. She taught him how playful relationship could be, how fun being with someone could be. He would never regret giving her his virginity. She was also the first person he told about his interest in men. She pressed a soft kiss to his temple and told him that she already knew.
After that, he had a few clumsy kisses and awkward groping sessions with men at gay clubs that left so much to be desired despite the fact that it felt right on a new level. Something had clicked for him. He hadn’t realised how focused on what he was doing versus who he was doing it with. When he had kissed girls, his intent was to make it good for them. He had been assured that it had been. But after kissing boys… he forgot about the fact that he was kissing and focused on how right it felt to be pressed against hard bodies, to feel the fresh prickle of facial hair under his hands. He enjoyed the way he could catch a whiff of cologne when someone moved to kiss his neck.
And yet, the desperation, the complete lack of awareness he had just experienced was completely new. It was as though something had stirred within him. He had awoken something raw and sinful from a deep slumber. He was not ready to deal with that on top of the long list of other things on his plate. So, yes, despite not liking it, he’d rather be lying to Deadpool about his bruises.
“I was running for the subway and my glasses slipped off and I ran into a column. Does it look that bad?” He asked looking directly at Wade so as not to come off as fidgety.
“Petey, you sweet thing, my tenderoni. I know what it looks like when someone has gotten into a fight. I’ve been in my fair share. Now, tell Mister Pool who hurt you so I can put them six feet under.”
“Wade, I mean it. It wasn’t a person.” And technically it wasn’t…. Monster would be accurate.
Wade sighed heavily as though he was determining whether or not he was going to accept that. “I know I can’t make him tell me but when I find out someone laid hands on him, I’ll unalive them so slow they’ll wish Wolverine was fisting them raw.”
“Wade?” Peter asked in question to the older man muttering to himself.
“You can, um, you can let go now.”
“Mmmm don’t wanna.”
Peter flushed. He was hardly complaining but as things stood, things were probably about to turn down the route of them talking about the very thing Peter wanted to avoid almost as much as he wanted to avoid telling Tony about an experiment that resulted in damaged labs. He usually left that to Bruce because who is gonna yell at the Hulk? So, he had no choice but to play dirty.
He looked up at Wade through his lashes and gave him the look that always had Bruce running a hand over his face in frustration before he agreed to take the fall for yet another explosion. He jutted out his lower lip just enough to be pathetic and tilted his head to the side enough to be vulnerable.
“Pretty please, Wade?” He begged softly.
“Fucking hell, Bambi. Don’t give me that look.” Wade swore, sounding broken. He stepped away. He turned away from Peter and ran his hands over his face as he groaned. “What kind of Disney bullshit was that?” He looked over her shoulder and his eyes tightened. “Are you a princess?”
Peter chuckled. “You can call me princess if you want to.” He shrugged but internally he was screaming. What in the actual fuck was wrong with him? Did he have no filter? Who did he think he was?
“Hey, Princess,” Weasel said from the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “You workin’ today or am I paying you to torment the dumbass in the leather condom?”
“Hey! He wasn’t talking to you. Only I get to call him princess. Right Petey? Right?”
Oh… Oh no. He felt his skin crawl. Guilt blew cold through him. He was supposed to be working. He couldn’t even snark Weasel about the title. He ducked his head and grabbed the bucket from the sink and excused himself. He was both ashamed at having lost himself with Wade while on the clock and grateful that Weasel had come to his rescue before he did something truly embarrassing.
Right, because none of that was embarrassing. Get it together, Parker! He had a blush the rest of his time at Sister Margaret’s. He didn’t see Wade leave.
I'm a sucker for comments. Call me a praise whore, if you wish. But also, I'm in the ZOOOOOOONE tonight so rapid update. Smooches and Gratitude! Some soft boys and some gay reflections for ya. Also... my poor son. The gay panic is strong with this one.
Peter wasn’t avoiding Wade per se. He was just figuring things out. He told Weasel school was getting a little hectic and he’d come in when he got a chance but it may be awhile.And if he happened to be patrolling more than usual, well, the citizens were certainly grateful. JJ appreciated the pictures too. It meant he could run more BS stories about “the pest”.
He was currently hanging out on a rooftop, enjoying the slow night. He was about to call it a night when he felt his hair rise. You’ve got to be kidding me, he mentally cursed the cosmos for it’s desire to torture him. He looked over his shoulder to see Wade strolling up with a bag full of what looked to be tacos.
“Oops! Sorry. Didn’t realize this rooftop was tak-holy tits on a tarantula! You’re Spider-Man! Big fan. Huge actually. Allow me to introduce myself,” Wade said with his usual enthusiasm. Peter’s heart stuttered. He was a fan. Cute.
“Deadpool. I’m familiar. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he didn’t need to say that it was all negative.
“All raving reviews I’m sure! Wow. Spider-Man knows my name.” He continued his approach towards the edge that Peter was sitting on.
There was a little part of him that relished that he had an opportunity to interact with Wade through the mask, under the blanket of anonymity. He could be cool and controlled and his face would give nothing away. He always felt a little more in control in the suit. Sure, Spider-Man was a snarky pest but he was still a hero and that allowed him to tether himself to the persona of a responsible, non-sex crazed, semi-normal person.
“You’re smaller than I imagined,” Wade said as he plopped down next to him.
“Not a bad thing! Bet you’re extra sneaky.”
“I get by,” Peter replied hesitantly. They sat there, silently for a moment. That is until Peter couldn’t take it anymore “Not that I mind the company, but did you need something?”
“That’s a hefty question, Spidey! But you’re a friendly neighborhood guy, so sure. I’m a normal guy. I have needs. The problem is, I only seem to want someone in particular to be taking care of those needs, ya feel?”
Peter flushed under his mask. Definitely not what he meant when he asked that question. He was operating under the assumption that Deadpool must be up here for a job of some sort. He wasn’t exactly expecting to be having a conversation about sex with the merc. On a rooftop. In the middle of the night. Dressed as Spider Man.
“That sounds like a personal problem, Deadpool.”
“Who you tellin? I just can’t seem to pin him down, ya know? You see Spidey, I think he wants it as bad as I do but he’s so slippery and he seems to unsure. He also gets so flustered. And everytime I think he’s gonna give in, he pulls back. I just wanna scoop him up and keep him in my fanny pack!”
Peter considered responding but what was he supposed to say to that? Instead of having to conjure some garbage response, Wade continued.
“The worst part is how tempting he is and he doesn’t even know it! It’s like come on, you soft, perfect, wet dream, angel baby! You have to know how perfect you are when your mouth quirks up at a good joke you refuse to laugh at. And the little noises he makes without thinking. Rated NC17, I tell you what. He’s a little pornstar. At least he ought to be. It’s like he was made for me… the way he mewls and curls in like a kitten. He’s so responsive to the littlest things.”
“Oooookay. Well, this has been fun. Truly. But, I’m gonna go. You’re good right? Yeah. I’m gonna…. Have a good night, dude. Hope things get easier for you.” He was not going to sit here and listen to Wade talk about the things that had him sitting on a rooftop to begin with. He stood up and patted his thighs as he stretched out a bit.
“Wow. That’s one hell of a behind, Spidey. Bet when you get knocked down, you just bounce right back up again.” Wade said with a sigh. “He has the nicest butt ever. So peachy and round. I want to make it red.”
And that image was never going to leave his head. He felt as though steam were coming out of his ears. “I’ll, uhm, see you around.” Please, no.
“Wait! Mister Man, do you want a taco? Best in town.”
Peter eyed the bag by Wade’s side as he rummaged through it and pulled out a greasy semi circle wrapped in thin parchment paper. He thought about it for a second. On the one hand, he should go. He shouldn’t encourage him. On the other, he was rather hungry and he already knew he wouldn’t bother to eat once he was home. And it was Wade. It was Wade.
Wade gave an excited squeal that made him chuckle. He took the taco from Wade and raised it in thanks. He was about to shoot a web and swing off when Wade raised the bottom of his mask and took a huge bite. He watched carefully. Wade chewed slowly, his feet kicking in a childish manner over the edge of the building as he ate. Peter swallowed thickly before finally departing.
He’d be thinking about a lot of things tonight; the way Wade described him, Wade spanking him, Wade complimenting Spider Man’s ass, the unwarranted friendliness…his mouth.
It's a wee bit shorter than normal. Rapid updates tend to go that way for me. Pete just can't with the feels. He's got a lot of tension. Next chapter soon, I promise! Smooches and gratitude!
Peter had been in a daze all through his classes. How was he supposed to focus on his professors when all he could think about was what Wade had said… with that mouth. That sinfully delicious mouth. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the soft shape of his lips. Should he have been curious about what seemed to be thick layers of scars covering the exposed flesh? Maybe. But his mind was more preoccupied with the idea of what Wade’s mouth would feel like on his. What would it feel like to have those lips on his skin.
He had thought about more than Wade’s mouth, to be fair. He had also thought about his hands. Particularly, his hands in relation to spanking. He was no stranger to pain. He knew what kind of adrenaline rush could follow. He was suddenly very intrigued by the idea of Wade claiming his body and leaving marks. They never lasted, but with enough force, enough dedication it was possible.
Seeing as he wasn’t escaping Wade in his head, or in his alternate persona, Peter felt no need to continue to avoid him as himself. He sent Weasel a text telling him he’d stop by after class if that worked. The response was a bland ‘bout time, princess’. He rolled his eyes and tucked his phone away before going to his last class of the day. He paid very little attention.
By the time he got to Sister Margaret’s he was about one stroke short of losing it. He had made the mistake of letting his mind go down the path of Wade pinning his hands above his head and now he was worse for wear.
The worst part wasn’t even the fantasies or the awkwardness he was feeling at facing Wade at any point in time and having to actually talk about things. The worst part, the part that had him rushing back, was that he missed just being around the man. He missed the banter and the joking and the way they seemed to lean in to each other but never actually invading each other’s space just yet. He honestly just missed having Wade around. Not that he was blaming Wade. It was good ol’ Peter himself who had hit the panic button at the first sign of confusion.
He opened the door and began untangling the cord of his headphones. He didn’t get an immediate greeting so he called out. “Weasel, I’m here.” He was just working an earbud free when he realized his neck was tingling. He whipped his head up, the bundle of chaos in his hands no longer a priority.
“Hiya, honey bun!” Wade said cheerfully. He said it like he wasn’t currently sitting on the bar top, wearing a french maid costume over his suit and fiddling with a feather duster. He said it like he wasn’t the most ridiculous, spontaneous confusing person Peter had ever met. And it was shocking… but it was just so him.
Peter couldn’t even laugh. He could only gape at the sight before him. He was so lost. He didn’t want to ask. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know what was going on here. He knew it was for him. That much was obvious. Deadpool didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would put that on for just anyone. Then again… he may just wear it for fun.
“Wade, get your shoes off the counter.”
“Aw, Petey, you’re no fun! I was expecting a bigger reaction. Weasel nearly had a stroke when I came in.” Wade said as he closed his legs and swung his feet off the counter.
“Where is Weasel?” Peter asked, looking around to avoid whatever was about to happen.
“He thought it would be best to give us some privacy.” Wade nearly whispered. Pointless. They were the only two people there as far as Peter could tell.
“And why would we need privacy?” Peter asked cautiously. He eyed Wade’s hands and felt a blush begin to form.
Wade slid slowly off the counter. “Well, you see, sugar plum. I have a proposition for you.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed and he watched Wade carefully. Thus far, his spidey sense was fine. He didn’t feel anything more than the usual awareness that he felt near the merc. Wade came closer. They stood toe to toe and Peter had to tip his head back to meet the white eyes of Wade’s mask. “What kind of proposition?”
“I was just thinking, you know I’m so good at that, that I can’t keep coming down here all the time just to see you. After all, that’s not fair. It would be so nice if you came to me once in a while. You know, meet me halfway. But most importantly, I’m a busy man, love muffin. And busy men are messy men! My apartment. It’s a wreck. I tell you what. It looks like a hobo has been camping out at build a bear workshop and had an orgy. And you are just so good at making shit shows sparkle. My apartment can be your next shit show!”
“Wade,” Peter urged him to get to the point.
“I want you to come clean for me. I’ll pay you a hell of a lot better than Weasel. I’ll most likely feed you. Perks include; my company, access to a very comfortable couch, free WiFi, and readily available me. French maid costume highly encouraged but not necessary.”
Wade was inviting him to his apartment. The whole job, money thing was a minor detail. Wade was inviting him in to his life. Peter would get to see him at home, in his natural environment. He would get to have intentional contact with him. It wasn’t all up to chance anymore.
“Plus, I really like the idea of having you all to myself.” Wade added with a wink.
Peter bit back a large grin but his mouth quirked up in the way he knew he had picked up from Tony. “I’m not wearing that maid costume. We don’t wear the same size.” He quipped.
He was so screwed.
Okay, last rapid update post because I have work in a few hours and sleep is a thing that will help me function and be able to be nice to people. All of the comments I've gotten are so sweet and supportive and the encouragement makes it so easy to keep pumping out chapters for you lovelies so thank you so much! Smooches and gratitude!
Chapter 10: Laying it on the table
I apologize for the wait! work and life, ya know? But here she be! Pete is somethin else. Bless this pouty child. Next chapter up soon!?
Thanks for reading! Thanks for the support and all the love in the comments! Smooches and gratitude!
He wasn’t bothered by Wade still wearing his mask or gloves. Sharing a name is one thing, but a face… You can’t just pop off the mask for just anyone. It made Peter a little sad. He knew the frustration and pressure that came with donning a mask. He knew how much the secret sucked, though for Wade it wasn’t much of a secret. But mostly, he understood the loneliness of the mask. The kind of isolated life that the barrier builds.
“-tey? Peter? You in there, puddin pop?”
“Wha-yeah. Yeah. Hi, Wade,” Peter mumbled eloquently as he tried to adjust back to reality after eye fucking the man in front of him.
“There he is!”
Peter flushed a little. Embarrassment seemed to be his natural state around this guy. He felt like his center of gravity had been shifted and he couldn’t adjust most of the time. He also felt so comfortable, so safe, just being around the older man. All at the same time. Was it any wonder that he was constantly short circuiting?
“Well, come on in. It’s not much, but it’s home and mi casa es su casa!” Wade nearly dragged Peter into the space and closed them off from the rest of the world.
Peter took a brief moment to observe the space around him. He was in Wade’s home… he spotted the blatant marks of his occupancy all around him. There was a hello kitty blanket tossed over a chair, a small collection of unicorn figures on a shelf, knives thrown into a cluster in a wall, a couple books on the coffee table, what looked to be a child’s drawings of Deadpool and friends, a couple more drawings of what seemed to be Deadpool and his enemies.
It had a certain charm to it. It wasn’t dirty, like he expected. Just unkempt. He could work with this. He was about to comment on the space but his nose was assaulted. He turned his head and sniffed.
“Are you cooking something?”
The white’s of Wade’s mask widened and he pressed his palms to his cheeks. Cute, Peter thought to himself. “Oh no! I forgot about the pancakes!”
“Of course, you silly little goose. I’m the hostess with the mostess. I’m not about to have a house guest and nothing to offer! What would mother say?”
“Probably that you shouldn’t feed the help,” Peter offered. “We’re like strays, we’ll keep coming back for more.”
“Is that a promise, kitten?” Wade asked in a low voice that sent shivers down his spine.
“Maybe. Depends on how burnt the pancakes are.” It was a stupid thing to say. He wasn’t available to stay. He was barely available for this. He was here to clean, to earn his keep. He had a secret to protect, a life to maintain. Otherwise, he’d drop it all and press himself in to Wade’s side and let him hand feed him bites of pancake for the foreseeable future.
“You’ll be begging for more by the time I’m through with you,” Wade offered with a wink before scurrying back to the kitchen.
Peter followed and stared in awe at the mountain like stack of perfectly cooked pancakes. It smelled heavenly, under the immediate smell of slightly overdone pancakes on the stove. Wade had removed the pan from the stove top and began scrapping them into the trash. He looked dismayed.
“I’ve never burned these before,” he said to Peter as he tossed the pan into a messy sink full of dishes to be done.
“I’m still impressed. I rarely cook,” Peter offered.
“No wonder you’re all skin and bone! Don’t worry, Daddypool will fatten you up.” Wade said as he began to move bowl with the remnants of batter.
And because Peter was a little shit who couldn’t seem to control himself around the merc, he had no choice but to snark back. “Gee, thanks, Daddy.”
The bowl crashed into the sink a little more aggressively than necessary and Wade seemed to still. Peter’s brows rose in surprise. Oh. Oh, that was how Wade reacted to being called Daddy. Peter bit back a smile and filtered that knowledge away for later. He kind of liked that he could make a man like Wade short circuit too.
“Pancakes. You eat now. Yes, you sit and eat the food now.” Wade said as he picked up the massive plate of breakfast food and took it to a table. Peter followed suit with his hands behind his back, struggling to suppress a giggle.
“Is there anything I can help with?” He barely restrained himself from throwing the word out again just to tease. There was a chance that if he used it in that moment Wade may drop the food and he was pretty interested in tasting it.
“Nope!” He replied, popping the p. Clearly he had regained his senses. “You just sit your pretty little butt down and I’ll take care of everything.”
“Isn’t the whole point of me being here to help?” Peter asked as he deposited himself into a chair.
Wade hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll get to that, sweetums. Promise.”
Wade rummaged around in the kitchen for a moment and came back with a dish of butter, a bottle of syrup, a plate, a fork and a knife. He proceeded to set it down in front of Peter and then load his plate up with five steaming flapjacks.
Peter’s stomach growled obscenely at the prospect of food. He flushed and looked at Wade expectantly. “You’re not eating.”
“Not hungry,” Wade said as he sat across from Peter. He rested his chin in his palm, elbow on the table. “Not for food, anyway.”
Peter’s brow furrowed and he stared back. “I can’t eat alone.”
“Sure ya can! Besides, you’re not alone. I’m right here.” His other hand came up to mirror the other.
Peter crossed his hands and sat back in his chair. “I’m not eating alone.” He said resolutely.
“Aw, come on. Petey Pie, I made ‘em just for you.” Peter didn’t say anything. His face remained in a firm scowl. “Baby boy, don’t pout!”
Peter’s stomach growled again, angry at being denied the sweet smelling delicacy before him. He turned his face away and glared at the wall. He wasn’t about to sit here, in a stranger’s home, and devour a plate piled high with food while his host watched. He didn’t care how hungry he was or how bratty he was being.
Wade groaned and scrubbed his gloved hands over his face. “Fuck! Fine. Fine. Okay? You win. Just… stop pouting.” He rose and came back with another plate and a fork. He loaded the plate up and made a gesture to it. “Happy?”
Peter let a smile slowly work over his features. He peeked at Wade who seemed sullen. Good. “As a matter of fact, yeah.”
He slathered the pancakes in butter and poured a ridiculous amount of syrup over them. He cut through the stack and was about to take a bite when he noticed Wade wasn’t doing the same. He put his fork down and eyed the plate in front of Wade and pointedly stared back at Wade. Seriously? He waited and Wade sighed. He cut a piece and stabbed it with his fork.
“Yes, pumpkin?” Wade asked as he glared at the food.
“Yeah… so here’s the thing. It’s really better if I leave it on.”
“You won’t be able to eat.”
“If I take it off, you won’t be able to eat.”
“There’s very little that can put me off my food. I promise.”
“You say that but you haven’t seen this butterface.”
“I’ll manage. Eat your pancakes or I’m going home.” He threatened.
Wade sighed and moved a hand to the edge of his mask. “Fine. But I warned you! Bathroom is that way if you need the toilet. You know, for tossing your crumpets.”
Peter just waited expectantly. Wade moved slowly as he pulled the mask up to reveal his face. The air was heavy with hesitation, thick with Wade’s anxiety. Peter suddenly felt very guilty for asking him to expose himself. Peter, who would flee if asked the same, wanted to take it back instantly but before he could the mask was gone.
Oh, fuck! Wade was...
Wade was hot. Okay, so the scars were something else. He understood his hesitancy now. But underneath that layer of scarring was fantastic bone structure. Killer eyes. Well, okay, so Wade’s eyes were that of a killer. But the icy shade of blue looking back at him was stunning. Peter was stunned. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. That was not fair. Because if Wade was this attractive with his scars, Peter knew he had to be devastating before. He felt woefully inadequate.
“You’re being very quiet, Peter. Quiet is not the response I get to this. This is awkward. Should I put the mask back on? I’m gonna put the mask back on. Stupid.” Wade said hurriedly. Peter watched his mouth move. He wanted to know what those lips felt like.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Eloquent, Peter. Full of tact.
“I’m sorry. What now?” Wade said, his hairless brow raising.
“You’re a total fox? And a total drama queen. You got me all nervous for nothing.” Peter huffed.
“I am not a drama queen! Have you had your eyes checked recently, muffin? How many fingers am I holding up. Are your glasses the wrong prescription?” Wade asked waving two fingers in front of his face at a dizzying speed.
“My glasses are fine. You’re just an idiot. Eat your pancakes.” Peter said as he lifted his fork to his mouth, truly desperate to actually taste them and focus on anything other than Wade’s jaw or worse, his eyes.
“I know I am but what are you!” Wade threw back instantly and Peter smiled at the childishness of it. If Wade could joke, then it wasn’t too bad.
“Hungry.” Peter quipped with a small smile.
“Hi, hungry. I’m Dad.”
“Eat your pancakes then, Daddy.” Peter sassed, too much emphasis on his final word. He shoved the food into his mouth before Wade could say another word. The moan the escaped him was the definition of erotic.
Wade said nothing. He watched as Peter took a moment to chew. He watched as he ate with his eyes closed, pleasure causing his body to relax and sink into his chair. That initial reaction had caused quite a scene.
“Oh my god. Wade… this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He said as he shoved another bite into his eager mouth.
“Wade? I thought it was Daddy,” he teased in that low tone that made Peter slow down on his food.
Peter watched him from across the table. Wade was staring at him intently. Those cool eyes were definitely hungry for something but it sure as hell wasn’t pancakes. Peter watched as Wade raised a fork slowly to his mouth and popped the dripping pancake into his mouth, a smidge of syrup catching on his lip. Peter wanted to lick it off. Wade swallowed before speaking. Peter caught the motion of his throat.
“You’re right, Princess. These are good. But you haven’t tasted me yet.” The wink sent his way was the only saving grace.
Peter choked on his pancakes. He looked away as he coughed. Was is hot? Peter felt hot. He cleared his throat and stood abruptly from the table. He couldn’t just sit there and flirt. It would likely kill him.
“I’ll wash the dishes!” He said as he pressed his palms to the table top.
“You’ve had two bites! You can’t be done already.”
“I’ll eat later,”
“Peter,” Wade’s voice was stern. Instantly Peter felt vulnerable. “Sit down and finish your food.”
“No buts except yours in that chair. Now.” Wade said clearly pointing at Peter and then down towards the chair.
Peter quelled his urge to respond with “yes sir”. He was not about to embarrass himself like that. He lowered himself into the chair again and bit his lip. He looked back at Wade for approval. The tone of authority he had used had made Peter’s knees weak. He peered at Wade over the rims of his glasses. Wade was simply staring at him with warm eyes.
Oh. Oh fuck… was he into that? Because the wave of pleasure that went through him at those words seemed to indicate it was likely. He sat a little straighter and pressed his lips together to avoid the chance of asking Wade to say it again.
They sat in silence for a bit as they both tucked into their food. Peter would occasionally look up at Wade and get a smile and a finger wave back. He would roll his eyes at the antics and go back to his food. Wade would occasionally stretch his leg out and catch Peter’s. When they finally managed to clear their plates, Peter rose first.
“Can I do the dishes now or are you going to boss me around some more?”
“You say that like both isn’t an option!”
“Wade. Can I do the dishes or not?”
“Yeah, sure thing. Go right ahead.” Wade held his hands up away from his plate so that Peter could collect it. As Peter made his way back over to the sink, Wade spoke again.
“Princess.” Peter turned slightly to acknowledge him. “I think we both know you like it when I boss you around.” He threw another wink out.
Peter’s face filled with blood. He felt light headed. He did. He hadn’t known he liked it until it happened but yes, he liked it. He didn’t know what to do with that knowledge. He didn’t know what to do about half of his feelings. He liked the flirting and the pet names and the way Wade’s voice lowered when he told Peter to do something, he liked the way Wade seemed to know exactly what to say to work him up, he liked the way Wade smelled and felt and laughed and looked and….oh shit. He liked Wade.
He thought it had maybe been a small crush. But this was beginning to feel an awful lot like feelings. This felt like get you in trouble or get you hurt kind of feelings. He was already so responsive to Wade. There was this natural connection there; an unspoken need that was instantly met. He was already half desperate for the older man at the drop of a hat. He didn’t want to think about how much worse it could get. So he didn’t.
He rolled his eyes. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”
He focused on scrubbing the dishes and not at all on how nice it would be if Wade came up behind him and wrapped those muscular arms around his waist and pressed hot kisses into the skin of the back of his neck. He didn’t think at all about what it would be like to stretch out against him again and feel his body.
Jesus. He wasn’t shaking this one anytime soon. Might as well enjoy the fantasy while it lasts.
Okay, Okay. That little cliffhanger wasn't very nice of me. I know. I'm a tease... but then again, so is Peter. You're all so sweet and I love getting to see your reactions in the comments. I promise to be good to you and get these boys some much needed action. I personally don't often write slow burn or angst so we all know this is going somewhere hot and heavy fast.
Smooches and gratitude, cuties! Thanks for reading
He hadn’t actually gotten a chance to do much more than finish the dishes and wipe down the kitchen before his phone rang. He was only slightly grateful. Wade been hovering and distracting. When AC/DC started blaring from his pocket, he sighed heavily before yanking the device out. He tossed an apologetic glance at Wade who didn’t seem bothered. He answered quickly. Hoping that it was something to do with their recent project and not anything pressing.
“Where are you right now?” Tony asked with no pretense.
Something pressing then. “I’m..” he hesitated. What was the right way to phrase this? “at a friend’s.”
“Oh-ho Just a friend? That was a pretty hefty pause there, kid.”
He nearly let a groan slip. An involuntary reaction where Tony was involved. Who was the adult here? “What’s up, Tony?” he only ever called him by his first name if he needed to be discreet. Couldn’t exactly be advertising the he knew Iron Man well enough to personalize his ringtone.
“Oh. It’s Tony now. Must be some friend,” Tony said, the smirk evident in his voice.
He was going to mouth off but his mouth clamped shut when he felt Wade slip behind him. His hands found a familiar place on Peter’s hip and his chin rested on the shoulder opposite to the cell phone.
“Who ya talkin’ to, Pumpkin?” Wade asked softly but his grip was firm enough that Peter could tell he wasn’t happy with being ignored. Peter covered the mouthpiece.
“My boss,” he said in a hushed tone.
“I thought I was your boss now!” Wade said playfully. He proceeded to pull Peter back into his chest and wrap strong arms around his waist. The span of his limbs made Peter feel petite. Wade dwarfed him when they were up close and personal.
“One of many.” His response was breathless. He was half aware that Tony was moving on from giving him shit and was not getting down to the real reason he called. He tried to catch details but Wade was warm and pressed against him. He had just been thinking about this, about how right this would feel. All he needed was to feel scarred lips on him and he’d be living his literal dream.
“Ah, a challenge to win the hand of fair maiden! I accept.”
“Do your worst,” Peter said absently as he focused on Tony’s chatter.
“Really?” Wade asked in a hopeful but dark tone that, had he been paying attention, would have given him a chance to prepare himself.
“Mhm,” he said to Tony and Wade simultaneously.
Before his spidey senses could give him an advantage, there was a hand on his chin and his face was being turned to Wade. His eyes were wide when Wade pressed their lips together. Peter nearly dropped his phone. All thoughts of Tony, of the Avengers, of a mission fled his mind in an instant. He was so focused on the feeling of Wade’s mouth on his.
Peter had kissed people before. This? This was different. He had never felt so fucking alive and whole before. Just a kiss. It was such a simple thing. It wasn’t even something he had placed value on before this moment. He’d probably given hundreds of kisses in his life, would likely give hundreds more. None would compare to the way he felt when Wade kissed him.
There was a pitiful sound of surprise and pleasure that escaped him and he was instantly aware that he was still on the phone. Oh god. He was still on the phone with Tony Stark… his snarky, supportive, more than slightly overbearing father figure. He pulled back from Wade with a jerk and he glared.
“Wade!” he hissed softly, making sure his mouthpiece was still covered. “I’m on the phone.”
“I know, baby. That’s kind of the whole point.” He was nuzzling at Peter’s cheek. A man as large as Wade shouldn’t be cute but damn if he wasn’t.
“Are you listening, kid?”
“Of course!” Not. He was focused on the was Wade was now clenching and unclenching his fingers against Peters ribs. He wobbled a little. He cursed his luck. He hadn’t really planned on getting interrupted today. At one point, he might have even been grateful for a timely escape. Now he just wanted Tony to text him the details so he could turn around and wrap himself around Wade like a horny little octopus.
“Pay attention to your boss, Kitten.” Wade said before kissing the skin just under his ear. Peter nearly moaned into the phone.
“Which one?” he asked softly because he really didn’t know anymore. This game wasn’t really dangerous but he certainly felt a thrill fill him. He had never been more turned on in his life. Wade didn’t respond. At least, not with words. His mouth found Peter’s earlobe and he sucked it gently into his mouth before using his teeth to gently scrape and pull the sensitive flesh.
Tony was trying to fill him in on some irrelevant backstory on whomever they would be dealing with. He could vaguely make out some of the details. He really was trying to focus on the details but his mind was muddled. Wade was tracing the edge of his ear with his mouth and those hands were now gripping his hips and those fingers were flexing. His skin felt like it was on fire. He wanted to feel Wade’s strength. He wanted to know how hard he could squeeze.
“Make your way home. I’ll send a car for you,” Tony said quickly before hanging up. He didn’t expect a goodbye anymore. He was just grateful that Tony was done making him suffer through diverting his attention away from Wade’s mistrations.
“You, Wade Wilson, are an asshole.”
Wade faked a gasp. “What? Me? That hurts my feelings, Bambi. I didn’t do anything.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “I’d be concerned about hurting your feelings more if you played fair.”
“All’s fair in love and war, Petey Pie. I gotta keep your attention somehow, don’t I?”
Peter was still pressed against Wade’s chest. He wanted to tell him that his very existence was fascinating to him. He simply hummed and enjoyed the feeling of Wade being wrapped around him. He felt secure and warm. He felt… happy. Genuinely happy.
“I have to go,” he said despondently.
Wade’s arms tightened around him. He leaned his head back onto the older man’s chest. He too wasn’t exactly thrilled with it. He wondered if Wade would have made a move without Tony’s call. He wanted to know what the kiss had meant, if anything. Had Wade felt the same overwhelming emotions that he had? Was Wade as desperate for their next encounter as he was?
“I know a guy. I’ll get you a taxi.” Wade pressed a hot kiss to the corner of his jaw before pulling away to grab his own phone. Peter was instantly irritated at the loss of heat. He turned and wrapped his arms around Wade’s shoulders while he made the call. There was a broad hand cupping his lower back, a thumb tracing gently circles.
Peter didn’t bother listening to Wade’s conversation. He was about to even the playing field. He stretched his body up and along the length of the merc. His mouth latched onto the skin just above his adam’s apple. Wade stiffened. Peter lapped and nipped while Wade made friendly conversation, though it did sound hurried.
When Wade ended the call, he threw his phone and grabbed both of Peter’s hips. He looked down at him with eyes darkened by hunger. He looked positively sinful. Peter preened at having been the one to induce such a state. Now that was a reaction worth documenting.
“My man will call when he’s here. Until then…”
Peter bit his lip and quirked a brow.
“Oh, Baby Boy… you are about to find out just how much of an asshole I can be.”
Peter didn’t have a chance to think, let alone respond. His mouth was claimed and all he could do was surrender. He cursed at the idea of leaving, of ending this. Fucking Tony Stark. Fucking Avengers. Fucking Spiderman. Oh… that was an idea. Deadpool fucking Spiderman. He shivered.
Yeah… that was definitely something.
You can all thank my beautiful roommate for reminding me to type up this chapter and update. Bless my boy's inability to multi task. BUT HEY! They finally kissed. It can only get dirtier from here, lovelies.
I can't tell you how many times I've read and reread your reviews. They always bring a smile to my face. Thank you so much for reading! Smooches and gratitude!
Peter left Wade’s apartment with weak knees. By some small miracle, he managed to get down the stairs without falling on his face. He had never been so grateful for his superior strength. Wade had in fact proved just how much of an asshole he could be. Not that Peter was complaining about the treatment itself. He had been manhandled onto the counter top and practically devoured. He was left mewling into each kiss, clutching Wade close to him as the merc varied his kisses between ferocious and teasing. He was panting and on the verge of begging when Wade’s phone rang. He had pulled away as though it was the easiest thing in the world to do.
“Your ride is here, muffin.” He said with a silly smile but his eyes were anything but playful.
There was no relief in knowing that despite how he played it off Wade was filled with the same burning desire that Peter was feeling. His glared at the older man. This was so unfair. He had to go to work while Wade was likely going to get to work a hand into those red pants and pleasure himself. A thought he shouldn’t have let cross his mind because that was something he very much would like to do himself. He really shouldn’t let his mind wander to all the praise that would spew out of Wade’s mouth while he touched him.
“You really are an asshole.” He muttered and looked down at the erection straining against his pants. “Great. Just great.”
“Aw, honey. Don’t be mad,” Wade cooed as he stroked his hands over Peter’s sides.
Peter slide off the counter, purposely dragging his body down Wade’s front as he went. He looked up at him and fixed his face. His glare quickly morphed into a soft pout. Dragging his hands up Wade’s chest, delighting in the way the muscles under his hand twitched under his hands, he wrapped his arms around Wade’s neck.
“It’s not fair that you get to have fun all by yourself while I have to go to work,” he said softly as he raised up on his toes to press a long, soft kiss to the corner of Wade’s mouth.
“Peter, baby, if you want to make it to work at all, you better stop that.” Wade nearly growled out.
“I’m not even doing anything,” he said before giving a short lick to the spot he had just kissed.
“Petey-pie, it’s not nice to lie.”
“It’s not nice to leave a guy high and dry either, now is it?” He nipped at the jaw before him causing Wade to squeeze his hips. Wade was about to say something but his phone rang again. “That’s my ride. Don’t have too much fun without me, Daddy.” he teased and pulled away before he did something stupid.
He spent the rest of the day blushing.
Luckily for him, the whole being a superhero thing didn’t usually require a lot of thought. Tony always over prepared him with details and plans and backstory even though it never helped. Peter was a big fan of just winging it. He’d probably fight well with Deadpool actually. They were likely similar in their tete-a-tete tactics. Not that he should be thinking about Wade fighting… about the way his arms would look as his muscled shifted, the strength of his legs, his hands…
Nope. Bad idea. Bad idea, Peter! He shook his head as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. He ran a hand through his hair and grumbled at the tension in his neck from being whipped into a building. He might have cracked a rib if the pain in his side when he took a breath was any indicator. Granted, he’d be fine in a day. Maybe less if he actually took a chance to rest.
His door creaked as it opened. He sighed when he saw a huge stack of assignments he should really get to work on… but his bed looked really comfortable. He hadn’t managed to get any photos from today’s fight so he should really go patrol too. He sighed and stretched his back, wincing a little at the pain in his side. It certainly wasn’t as pleasant as the sensation of Wade caressing his ribs or gripping his ribs.
God… Wade. He should really focus on anything other than a rented killer with an unusually high moral code. And he would… after he called him. He’d call and take a brief nap and then finish his assignments and patrol. He’d do everything he was supposed to do and retain some sense of normalcy outside his growing infatuation with Wade Wilson.
He shoved his books onto the floor and flopped onto his bed as he pressed his phone to his ear. He closed his eyes while it rang. He was a little sore and more than a little sleepy but he really wanted to hear Wade’s voice before he took a nap. He did feel a little bad for pouting earlier. He’d never been so open about his displeasure in a romantic endeavour before. Wade didn’t seem to mind but it would ease his mind a little to apologize.
“To what do I owe this absolute pleasure, peaches and cream?”
Peter chuckled into the receiver. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Oh? Is someone lonesome already?”
“I have to be lonely to want to talk to you now?”
“Baby boy, you could give me a lecture on paint drying and I’d be on the edge of my seat. I just wanted to hear you say you miss me.” Wade’s voice lowered. “Do I not get hear that?”
Peter was sleepy and his defense lowered. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said it before. He pressed his face into a pillow before speaking. “Wade, miss you.”
Wade chuckled low and deep. “I barely caught that but I’ll take it. You sound so tired, honey. How was work.”
“It was okay...Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m, um, sorry for being a brat about leaving.”
“Don’t apologize, sugarplum. That’s on me. I shouldn’t have teased you when I didn’t have time to finish the job.”
“Besides, I like it when you’re bratty.” Wade’s voice seemed impossibly low in ear. Hi breath hitched.
“Yeah. Makes me wanna do things to you,”
He shouldn’t…. But that had never stopped him before and it sure wasn’t going to stop him now. “What kind of things?”
“Oh, Baby Boy… you want daddy to talk dirty to you?”
The gravel in his voice made his arousal evident. Peter rolled onto his back and pressed his palm into the front of his pants. He did. He wanted Wade’s voice to coax him into oblivion. He felt hot all over; his blood was rushing through his veins. He hummed his agreement.
“What did you do after I left?” He asked on an exhale.
This was a terrible idea. But then Wade started talking and Peter couldn’t find a fuck to give about good ideas. Merc with a mouth indeed.
Oh my good golly. I'm an arse and haven't updated in so long. If you've been following this and have been waiting... you have the patience of a saint and above and beyond. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! My spideypool muse left me for a while but she's back!
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and the next. It put me in good spirits. Smooches and Gratitude!
Peter listened as Wade spoke in a low voice, waiting for him to get to the point. Wade talked about cleaning up his kitchen after he had gone. How he had watched an episode of Golden Girls before deciding it was time for a shower.
“And there I was, all naked and wet, and it got me thinkin’ about you.”
Peter perked up, suddenly very aware once more of what he really wanted. His hand was still cupping himself. He was waiting for this. His breath stalled in his chest and he waited patiently, letting Wade decide what he wanted to give.
“I was thinking about how pretty you are and those little noises that make me go crazy… well, crazier.”
“I don’t make any noises.” Peter insisted.
“Oh, you do, Kitten. You mewl and you whine and you moan. The things that come out of your mouth alone could get me off. I wanna hear what you sound like when I open you up with my tongue.”
“Oh,” Peter hissed out, now slowly palming himself.
“I thought about bending you over the counter this morning and grinding into you until you couldn’t take it anymore. Then I was going to lick you open until you begged me to stop.”
“I don’t think I would have been able to resist. I’d have no choice but to get my fingers inside you. I’d have you get them all wet for me with that cute little mouth of yours. Let you suck on them to keep you quiet for a moment.”
Peter was fully erect now. The thought of Wade shoving his fingers into his mouth, gagging around them, licking them until they were ready to be taken inside… he whined high in his throat and pressed his hand firmer into his aching flesh.
“I bet you’re real tight, honey. I’d take it nice and slow. Working one finger in until I knew you had to have another. God, I want to stretch you open over my cock. I just want to be inside you, ya know?”
He had already imagined it, though perhaps not as vividly until now. He wanted the heat of Wade’s large body to cover his own, to hold him down and envelop him. He wanted to really feel his body stretching around Wade’s length. He just wanted Wade inside him. He knew.
“I thought about sinking into you nice and slow and making you wait. I want you to feel it all,” Peter moaned. “You’d try to make me go faster, wouldn’t you, baby boy?” Peter bit his lip and nodded his head furiously. “Tell me, Peter. Do you want me to go faster?” Wade’s voice was too low, too husky, too raw and commanding for Peter to resist.
“Yes, please,” He gasped out.
“I bet those greedy little hands of yours are already working, aren’t they?”
“Mhmm.” He pressed his palm against her erection with fervor.
“I can’t wait to get my hands on you,” Wade’s voice was as tight as Peter’s pants felt. “I wanna drive into you until we’re both senseless. I want to make you scream.”
“Wade,” Peter moaned out softly. And he just had to know, “Are you touching yourself?”
“Of course, sugar plum. I’m fucking my hand like it’s that sweet little ass of yours and god, does it feel good.”
Peter hummed happily at the thought. He wanted to touch Wade. He wanted to run his hands all over the wide breadth of his shoulders and claw at the hard plains of his chest. His whole body ached to be taken and driven to the edge. He wanted…
“I want to suck your cock.”
He nearly hung up from embarrassment. He had just said that…out loud. He would have happily died if he wasn’t still in desperate need of an orgasm. And he was. He wanted to cum almost as badly as he wished he hadn’t said exactly what was on his mind.
“Fuck. That’s not leaving my head anytime soon. I bet you’d look so pretty on your knees for me. Those big brown eyes looking up all wet and wide. That little mouth of yours bobbing over me. I know exactly how talented that tongue is…” there was little quiver in his breath that let Peter know Wade wasn’t fairing very well either.
As much as he was enjoying hearing Wade practically panting into the phone with need as he waxed poetic about dicks, Peter also really wanted the agony to end. “Wade, please…” he begged.
“Fuck, baby boy. I love it when you say my name like that.” Peter keened into the phone. “I know, puddin’ pop. You wanna come?”
The high pitched whine that left him wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t even aware of how close he was, that he had gripped himself completely and had been stroking his flesh quickly and firmly. He was nearly there. He just needed to be tipped over the edge.
“Just a little more, Petey. You can take a little more, can’t you? Of course you can. Be a good boy.”
“Oh, fuck.” Peter bit his lip aggressively. The taste of copper did nothing to deter his arousal.
“Ohhhh- Petey Pie. You are just too much! Does someone have a praise kink? You like it when Daddypool tells you how good you’re being for me?”
“Wade,” he stuttered out in warning. He wasn’t going to last much longer and he didn’t really want to try. Exhaustion was setting in. He was half asleep, painfully erect and achingly close.
“God, you sound so pretty when you’re needy.” A deep groan followed and Peter was on the verge of begging. All he could think about was his release, about Wade, how he wanted both in an inconveniently desperate way. “All right, princess. Come.”
It wasn’t immediate but the burning ache that had filled him tingled down into his toes and he arched back and practically sobbed his relief as he stroked himself to finishing. He trembled as his body drifted away from the peak. His fatigue was entirely too much. He was only half aware when Wade followed him over. The low moan that reverberated sent electricity up his spine and he smiled.
He was panting and grinning into the phone, his eyes closed as he drifted back into reality. He felt giddy and a little sticky. Worth it.
“That was…. top tier, Honey. I think I might have died and gone to heaven. How ya feelin? You okay?”
Peter’s response was a sleepy gurgling that may have been an attempt at words but didn’t resemble coherency in the slightest. He was too content to try again. He heard Wade chuckle and he snuggled deeper into his pillow.
“I miss you too.”
He gave a pathetic hum and his smile spread wider. “Gross.”
Y'all! I wrote this at work... what a challenge! I had to give you a lil taste of something while I work on some Hamilton fic and get my NaNoWriMo planning under way. The boys will be back at it soon enough, I promise!
Thanks oodles and noodles for reading and the kudos and the lovely comments. Gods above! They make me smile like no other. You're all too sweet to be reading such dirty things! All my love--