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It had felt as if there had been some fundamental shift in their relationship, the one time Peter had taken Wade back to his adorable little rented house in Queens. Or at least, that’s what Wade had initially thought.
Peter had been softer with him when he returned from a mission after getting his dick blown off. At the same time, he had also seemed more distant in a way Wade couldn’t ever quite put his finger on. Every time Wade thought he was close to figuring out what had changed, Peter would distract him with a new, minor detail about his life or a fresh idea for a scene that left Wade both aching and sated. Sometimes it was simply an arm raised in invitation to curl up under a blanket together on Wade’s couch for hours. (Their cuddle sessions definitely weren’t Wade’s favorite part.) (Yes, they were.)
『Maybe his brains are just scrambled enough that he can’t work it out. The moron doesn’t have two functional neurons to rub together.』
「He’s scrambled like an omelet, all right. No wonder Petey-Pie hasn’t brought him back home again. Maybe he just knows what happens when you fall in luuurve.」
The boxes had been going in circles for hours, obnoxiously loud and obstructing everything Wade tried to do. It had been all right earlier when he was alone, but Peter had come over after… something. Work? Class? Wade wasn’t sure if he was supposed to know what the spider had been doing before he showed up at Wade’s apartment that afternoon, so he tried not to pay attention to all the little details he usually got paid to catalog.
At any rate, Peter was nestled against him on the nubbly couch cushions with those flexible spider limbs twisted around him. Yet, all Wade could do was spiral about whatever he had screwed up by missing some cue that likely would have been obvious to someone who wasn’t completely fucked in the head.
He had thought they were doing better after his last embarrassing fuck-up, considering Peter had bought him a shiny new cage, but maybe he was wrong. He had to be missing some vital clue, or Peter would have invited him back to that sweet little house again. Peter would have unfolded more clues about his life, like gilded puzzle pieces for Wade to fit together and memorize the shape.
Wade punched himself in the side of the head.
“Wade!”
“What? Huh? Yeah, whatever you say, Pete!” Wade pasted a broad, blood-tinged grin on his face. The unnerving expression wouldn’t have fooled Peter for a single solitary second even if he hadn’t just watched the guy smash his fist into the side of his own face.
Peter found his hands itching to wipe some moisturizer and Neosporin over the scabs and raw skin that cracked and bled as the merc’s face twisted into the expression. Deep red bubbled up and beaded on Wade’s cheeks in merlot droplets that a ravenous and profoundly unsanitary part of Peter wanted to lick up.
“You weren’t listening, babe,” he scolded in the Spider-Man adjacent tone he privately thought of as his “pre-Domming voice.” He didn’t let the unease over Wade punching himself in the flipping head bleed into his tone, but he could feel his eyebrows knit tightly enough with concern that he could almost hear Mary Jane squawking at him about forehead wrinkles.
“Okay, you caught me.” Wade shrugged, the cardboard smile on his face collapsing. “Just got a busy brain today, I guess.”
“Whatcha thinking about?” Peter kept his tone light and clear of the compulsion to fix everything wrong for Wade. The girls insisted that he needed to talk with his maybe-sort-of-boyfriend instead of trying to fuck Wade’s problems out, and they were, regrettably, usually right about that sort of thing. At the very least, he needed to make space for Wade to initiate sex more instead of hunting him down and inflicting his long list of scene ideas on him at every opportunity.
Peter suspected they would still end up fucking out their assorted issues, despite his most mediocre efforts to be more responsible.
The thing was, Wade was almost as good at avoiding serious talks as Peter was at avoiding identity-revealing information about himself. Even if Peter had started littering personal information into their conversations months ago, Wade still wouldn’t even call him pet names outside the bedroom (and the kitchen, the stairwell, the rooftop…).
Peter was starting to think he might take some of the girls’ other advice and go to a real shrink instead of asking them for advice about his other relationships.
“Thinking about? Oh, that Anson Mount is daddy as fuck in the new Trek show, how nice it is to be the little spoon when we snuggle, the steel cage my dick is trapped in, what we should have for lunch, how much my dick hurts in the steel cage it’s trapped in when I start thinking about Anson Mount and being your little spoon, how mad you’ll be if I do a discount-rate political assassination,” Wade said as he ticked things off on his fingers. “You know, the usual.”
“Hm. Well, do you just wanna talk about what’s up in your dome piece, or do you want me to help solve some of your problems?” Look at that. Here Peter was trying to have an honest conversation with Wade while they weren’t fucking, playing video games, or fighting crime. Gwen would be so proud.
Wade stared up at the ceiling.
“Uh…Well, we could, uh, we could… Sorry, Pete.” He wiggled around and resettled on the couch, then pulled at the crotch of his sweats with uncharacteristic self-consciousness. “I wore some Fancy Panties (tee em) on account of I felt, like, fancy this morning. I’m starting to regret the lack of support, and I ain’t talkin’ about the emotional kind. My balls really fuckin’ hurt.”
Peter did not immediately tackle Wade to the floor and rip his pants off to look at that pretty steel cage wrapped in lace and velvet, for which he quite frankly thought he ought to receive some sort of award.
“You don’t say?” he managed, voice strangled and high even to his own ears. “Why do they hurt so much, poor thing?”
He knew precisely why Wade’s testicles hurt so much. He hadn’t let Wade come in weeks; it had been a good fortnight since he’d even allowed his cock out to play. He just wanted to hear his big guy say it.
“My balls hurt in these panties,” Wade soldiered on bravely, like the trained assassin and former Special Forces operative that he was. “Because they’re pretty goddamn full, and I can and will add that your attentiveness to my emotional needs makes my dick hard, which only makes this more uncomfortable. Also, it’s coming to my attention that I gotta take a piss.”
“You should go do that then,” Peter suggested. He decided that this counted as Wade initiating sexy things. Who was he to deny the guy when he was trying so hard to play nice with the other superheroes?
(He was the guy who had the key to Wade’s dick on a ring next to his house key, that’s who.)
“Oh, uh, yeah, you’re totally right. I’m allowed to do that. Why would I sit around like I’m waiting for permission to piss? That would be so weird.” Wade scrambled to stand up.
“Meet me in your bedroom when you’re done,” Peter said in his best flippant tone, willing himself not to flush with excitement as he stared up into Wade’s eyes.
“Sure thing, boss,” Wade said. “Wait. I mean, daddy? Fuck. I mean, sir? Shit. I mean — ”
“Wade.”
“Yeah.”
“Go, already.”
Peter enjoyed the sight of Wade’s shifting, clinging swears as he shuffled down the hall. Peter would walk out of this relationship with a piss kink if he wasn’t careful.
He waited until Wade had shut the bathroom door behind him, then scrambled to dig around in Ellie’s “art drawer” in the kitchen for some washable chalk. He could hear a faltering stream of liquid and frantic muttering as he crept past the bathroom and down the narrow hallway into Wade’s cramped bedroom.
He pushed the blankets to the foot of the bed, stacked the pillows in the center against the headboard, and smoothed out the fitted sheet as best he could. He stripped down as he sketched out an impromptu scene in his mind.
Almost as an afterthought, Peter opted for the balance of comfort and preservation of the power dynamic by pulling his black boxer briefs and t-shirt back on, dropping his civvies and Spidey suit dropping on a mostly-clean armchair in the corner. Then, he just had to pull Wade’s toy box out from under the bed and find a suitable toy.
The bathroom door cracking open was Peter’s cue to get under control. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.
Spider-Dom, Spider-Dom, does whatever a Spider-Dom does. He let himself bounce up and down on his toes and shook his head.
“Back here, big guy,” he reminded Wade in a raised voice.
Wade was in the doorway so quickly that Peter would have sworn he used his teleportation belt if he couldn’t see it hanging up in the closet.
“Whatcha doin’ back here, little daddy?”
Peter raised his eyebrows at the repeated use of such a… specific pet name. That added a few new ideas to the list.
“Take your clothes off and lay down,” he said in lieu of answering Wade’s question.
“Oooh, yes, sir!” Wade laughed.
Peter walked around his guy to shut the door, allowing Wade to keep turning with him instead of exposing his back. “Now.” He leaned against the wall with arms crossed to watch.
“Eep!” The ducked head and efficient stripdown might have looked meek on anything less than seventy-four inches and two hundred and ten pounds of Grade A Canadian beefcake.
“Leave those on.” Peter gestured lazily at the peacock-colored scraps of lace and velvet wrapped around Wade’s delicates. He circled the mercenary one deliberate step at a time, forcing him further into the room.
“Didn’t know you liked to see a lady in her unmentionables, Webs.” Wade snapped an elastic shoulder strap in his direction with a wink.
Growling, Peter herded him against the foot of the bed without meeting any resistance, the heaving of Wade’s chest with each panting breath accented by the soft textiles stretched tight across his muscled pecs. Peter knew Wade was allowing it because no one backed him into a corner without him weighing the tactical advantages first, not even Spidey. It made his cheeks hot and his cock hard that he could push and push, and Wade would just let him.
As he advanced, Peter contemplated throwing out his plans and just tearing straight through the lace that strained obscenely around the glinting bulge of his cage on Wade’s dick. He wanted the overheated weight of those sore balls at his mercy, not hidden away by a barely adequate strip of fabric.
A soft groan tumbled from Wade’s mouth as his calves pressed against the mattress, and Peter knew he had to give him everything he’d been planning.
“Lay on your back for me, pretty boy.”
Wade obeyed.
Peter crawled over Wade’s prone body. Heat radiated between them, a suffuse tingle that couldn’t be explained by mere super-powered body temperature. He settled between brawny thighs to grind his cotton-clad erection against steel, lace, and velvet. His tug at the high waistband of Wade’s panties was rewarded with a glimpse of metallic shine and a bead of wetness welling at the tip of the cage.
He leaned in for a kiss, and a soft, eager mouth greeted him. The slick slide of their lips wasn’t quite enough to distract from the rest of Wade, still wiggling and impatient beneath him.
“We’re going to play an easy game today,” Peter explained as he reached across the bed for the chalk on the nightstand. He ignored the flash of disappointment on Wade’s face. Easy was relative when you had super strength, and your boy toy had a healing factor. Sometimes psychological torture was more fun anyway. “You’re so good at doing what I tell you, aren’t you?”
“Ye-es?”
“Yeah, you are. In fact, you’re so good that you don’t even need to be tied up.”
As predicted, Wade immediately began to protest. “But Pete, I like being tied — ”
Peter spoke over the objection like he hadn’t heard it. “That’s why I’m going to draw an outline for where I want you, and you’re going to stay put. Think you can do that for me?”
“Yeah,” Wade pouted. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”
“I hope so.” Peter pressed the tip of the chalk to the pillow next to Wade’s head and began to draw. The line stayed close to the prone form below him, tracing along solid arms and the ticklish spots on Wade’s ribs and above his ankle without shying away.
Peter made slight adjustments to his guy’s position, turning limbs and splaying fingers into just the proper position, running his tongue along the sensitive crease of joints whenever Wade’s eyes strayed from him. He saved the best for last, skirting close to the groin with a teasing smile that Wade was slow to focus on with fingers still so close to his delicate, swollen sack.
“How much do you like these panties?” Peter kept his tone even, almost bored, as he tossed the chalk off the bed and dusted off his hands.
“They’re my se — ”
He tore them open at the crotch before Wade could answer, then ripped the top into pieces. If Wade hadn’t been all right with Peter ruining them, he wouldn’t have worn them. Besides, the tattered pieces framing those biteable pecs and exposed cage were even more delightful than the original garments.
“Stay in the lines,” Peter reminded him. “Be good.”
Time to make the doughnuts. (Peter was still a Dunkin guy despite Wade’s efforts to convert him to the glory of Timmies.)
Peter tossed the lube and half-size fleshlight onto the mattress. The cold, clear tube rolled to a stop against Wade’s side, making him twitch away.
“That’s one.” Peter yanked him back into place between the lines.
“One? One what?” Wade demanded as if he had the right to know or could prevent what would happen to him.
It was Peter’s turn to flash an eerie smile. “You’re not gonna like it.”
Wade’s dick attempted to jump in its confines. “Bet you will, though,” he muttered.
“Definitely.”
Peter couldn’t resist tonguing the grumbling ire from his guy’s mouth. The swipe of his tongue past cracked lips quickly turned into him tongue-fucking Wade’s mouth while the big man thrust his hips into the air and twisted his fingers in the sheets. Just a little more…
A surge of hot desire thrummed through Peter, the need to possess Wade, to keep a piece of him inside himself and make Wade carry Peter’s love and ownership on his flesh. Before he could contain the violent urge, Peter bit down on Wade’s lip until his teeth met through plump flesh with a click. Hot copper spilled into his mouth, the flood of salty, hot life smearing across his lips and teeth, making his dick jump.
Wade screamed and jackknifed toward Peter, his entire upper half spilling outside the chalk lines. It couldn’t have hurt that badly, not compared to the damage he was used to taking or even the background noise of his own constant healing. Then again, he clearly hadn’t been expecting it. “Fuuuck,” Wade groaned.
That was two. Peter could have sworn Wade’s eyes rolled back in his head when he licked his lips. He swiped his tongue through the cooling blood and saliva dribbling down Wade’s chin.
The bite was already healed and blending in with the shifting, patchwork texture of Wade’s scars. “Shit, Webs, if this is torture, chain me to the wall.”
“Your dick would break the damn cage if I did,” Peter snorted. He nudged Wade’s limbs back into place. “You’re supposed to stay where I put you.”
His words were punctuated by several sharp tugs to Wade’s sack.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ow! Fuck! Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Though his voice climbed from his regular Demi Moore rumble to more of a Marge Simpson glottal fry with each exclamation, Wade managed to stay where Peter put him, this time.
“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be, big guy.”
“Please.” The word was almost a hiss.
“Better. Still at two.” Peter laid down to the right of Wade, snuggling into the warmth of his body and grinding his hard length against the solid, hot meat of Wade’s thigh.
He reached out for the pretty cage keeping that cock safe for him, caressing up from Wade’s thigh to the rigid steel. It barely took any effort to snap the small metal lock into pieces and slide the cage free.
“Shit,” Wade hissed as his flushed length filled rapidly. His hand twitched off the pillow as if to grab it before Peter smacked it back into place.
“Three.” Peter wondered if it hurt Wade to get hard after so long.
He leaned back on one elbow with the fleshlight in one hand and lube in the other, legs still tangled with Wade’s. He popped open the lube to drizzle some inside the fake pussy and swiped up the last string with two fingers.
A tortured sound dragged out of Wade as Peter’s sticky fingers pressed slowly inside the toy. It squelched and sucked as he angled it so Wade could watch his fingers slide straight through the toy as it warmed to flesh temperature.
“Plea — please,” his guy panted, hips pressing back into the bed instead of thrusting up into the air.
“Good boy,” Peter soothed. “Hold still.”
“Ohjeezusohfuckohgawd.” The words were a rhythmic chant, musical to Peter’s ears. “Stop fingerfucking that stupid thing and fuck me already! Sir.” The half-spat, half-pleading title was tacked on like an afterthought.
“Aw, are you jealous, pretty boy? Because I was actually thinking about letting you fuck this.”
Wade made a sound that wasn’t altogether human (or mutant).
“Is that a yes?”
“Guh.”
“Try again.”
“Guh, sir.”
Peter slapped Wade’s thigh with a sticky hand. “Going for four, smartass?”
Before Wade could muster an answer, Peter slid the slick, warm little fleshlight over his length. It was a tight fit, and Wade was trembling when his reddened cockhead popped out the other end.
Peter gave the toy a couple of quick pumps, watching it cling to Wade’s shaft through the transparent casing.
“Stop!” Wade cried out in a cracking voice.
“Stop?” Peter repeated, his voice dark with the overwhelming hunger that had overtaken him as his guy writhed and shook beneath him.
He gripped the toy tight enough for the plastic to creak, pulling it halfway off Wade and letting it drop back down. Peter sat up and scooted between Wade’s legs as the fleshlight slid down. His hard-on pressed against trembling, hot muscle.
As he slowly jerked him off with the toy, Peter watched Wade's sack draw up tight against his body.
“Stop, please stop,” Wade repeated as he bucked up into the sensation like he couldn’t help himself. Peter pressed into his thighs, his own breath coming out in hot pants as he waited for his cue.
It only took two more pulls before Wade gasped and wailed, “No, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m sorry, I’m coming!”
He hadn’t gotten out more than a few words before Peter pulled the toy clean off.
Peter had to pull back and give his own balls a light tug as he watched cum spurt and dribble from Wade’s untended dick. He couldn’t resist leaning over to lick up the pearly white fluid that had made it up to land on Wade’s nipple and the surrounding teal lace.
“There’s one,” Peter said as he slipped the fleshlight over Wade’s still-hard cock. It squelched filthily through the cum dripping down the ruddy, textured length.
“You’re fuckin’ evil,” Wade panted, pressing his hips back into the mattress like he could escape the sensation. His stomach muscles jumped as Peter doted attention to his over-sensitized, long-neglected cock.
“Consider this my villain origin story,” Peter deadpanned as he jerked him off again. “Two more.”
Despite the neutral façade he was barely maintaining, Peter was the one fucking gagging for it. He wanted to keep Wade groaning and shaking as he begged forgiveness for every trembling, white-hot second of orgasmic bliss Peter forced out of him. He wanted to sink his teeth and nails and cock into Wade’s sobbing, frantic heat until he broke him. Jesus, there was something fucking wrong with him.
“Oh christ, I’d be the best evil sidekick for you, Webs,” Wade moaned. An idea for another time, perhaps. His words trailed off into a long, low groan, so sweet that Peter had to have a taste.
He forced his tongue back into Wade’s mouth, choking off the sound. It was hard not to take another bite of the thrashing, warm prey beneath him, to dig in until Wade cried out in confused pain and pleasure.
“Fuck yourself for me.” Peter didn’t bother to keep a steady rhythm of kissing or fondling as Wade pumped his hips upward.
The fleshlight was almost an afterthought to Peter sucking and stroking the misshapen flesh of Wade’s tongue and humping his tight ass. The light friction burn of his cotton boxer-briefs was just enough discomfort to stop him from spilling his own mess alongside Wade’s.
Too soon, his guy broke away with a gasp. “Gonna… gonna… oh,” Wade grunted, the upward pitch of his voice seeming almost startled at how quickly he’d reached a second peak.
Because Peter put the “nice” in “nice Jewish boy,” he simply let go of the transparent tube this time instead of taking it away completely as Wade rode another ruined orgasm. The fleshlight slid down Wade’s dick, weak blurts of jizz oozing from his cockslit dripping down the sides of the toy.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Peter said. “You’re still hard for me and everything.”
“I live to serve, baby boy.” Wade’s voice cracked and trembled as his hips pumped into the air, trying to get any additional friction on his cock, which had to be sore and aching from the angry red color it had turned.
“And you’re doing such a good job for me, aren’t you?” Peter assured, his voice sweet even as his gut burned for more, more, more. “I love watching your dick all twitching and desperate like that. I wonder how long I could keep you this way? Riding the edge for me, letting me do whatever I want just so I’ll empty your balls enough that you can concentrate on anything but how badly you need me to touch you.”
“Are you gonna let me come?” Wade’s voice wavered and cracked on the question.
“Didn’t I already do that twice?” To wrap his fingers around Wade’s hot, oversensitive length, Peter tossed the fleshlight aside. He squeezed it, then started jerking him off at a snail’s pace. Pale fingers swiped through jizz and followed scar patterns across thin skin.
“Guh.”
“Hm?”
“Yea — Urk! Yes, yes, whatever you say!” Wade shook under his ministrations. He was so pretty when Peter had him teetering on edge between not enough and too much. “Please, it hurts!”
Peter squeezed Wade’s sack, now much less full and tight but still plenty tender. “I owe you one more, big guy.”
Wade only sobbed, head agitatedly shaking back and forth within the outline Peter had drawn on the pillows. “I can’t!”
The fleshlight squeezed back over Wade’s purpling cock, the way slicked by cooling, thickening cum and a freshman wintry dollop of lubricant. Peter bounced the toy up and down the stiff shaft a few times.
“Please let me be done, Pete,” Wade begged.
“Even if it means putting that away again?” Another tug of the clear fleshlight accompanied Peter’s question. “I don’t know when I’ll want to take him out to play again.”
Despite feeling like he was spouting flimsy porn dialogue, Peter was rewarded with another shudder.
“Yes, no, whatever you want! It hurts, it hurts!”
“Aw, poor baby. Y’know, this started because you were supposed to be listening to me instead of whatever shitty thing your brain was yelling. You’re pretty when you can’t think anymore.” He stroked sticky fingers down Wade’s ribs.
“Ah, thank you!” Wade’s foot kicked out, and Peter pretended not to notice. “I-I shouldn’t have asked you to stop, or, oh, or to let me come for real. I’m sorry I can’t follow directions.”
Peter wanted Wade stupid with his attention, not spiraling. Time to wrap up while things were still on a good note, even if part of him thrummed with the desire to keep going for hours longer, until he cracked something in his guy for real. “How about I made this last one easy for you?”
“Oh fuck, thank you, I’m sorry,” Wade moaned.
Peter pinned Wade’s thighs with his knees and lowered himself until his breath ghosted over Wade’s length. Without looking away from the dick in front of him, Peter reached an arm up to fondle at the scraps of lace and velvet still stretched over Wade’s pecs.
When he pressed a sloppy kiss to the cum-smeared head of Wade’s cock, that arm became an iron bar keeping Wade pinned to the bed. The too-sweet, sticky film of lubricant in his mouth was worth it as Wade shook and cried beneath him in pained ecstasy.
“C’mon, give it to me,” Peter coaxed. “Just one more, and then I’ll come all over your pretty tits.”
“I don’t have — ”
“Yeah, you have the prettiest tits,” Peter interrupted between wet kisses and lazy licks of Wade’s cock. “Your pecs are thick enough to fuck, and they’re wrapped up all nice and pretty for me.”
“Oh god, I don’t want — ”
“C’mon, big guy, let me have it.”
With a scream, Wade shot off, his third orgasm making his cock jerk and bounce as Peter ghosted his tongue across stiff, overheated flesh. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
When Peter sat up to wipe his mouth, tears were streaming down Wade’s face, and he was shaking. And here he’d thought his dick couldn’t get any harder.
“Look at you,” he breathed as he crawled up Wade’s chest. “Squeeze those tits together for me. There’s a good boy.” He wrapped the teal velvet around his cock, rubbing against Wade’s chest as shaky fingers went to obey. “You ready for me to come on your pretty tits?”
“Yeah, lemme be pretty for you, come all over m — ”
Peter snarled, fingers digging into the muscle of Wade’s shoulder as he came all over the teal lingerie stretched tight across Wade’s pecs, thick white ropes mixing with the cooling jizz already smeared across his guy’s chest.
He held himself up for one more shaking second before collapsing into the mess. “Good job, pretty boy.”
“Can you put me away now?” Wade’s voice was soft, cracked open with the tears still streaming down his face.
“Let me snuggle you a little more first, big guy. You earned a break.” And Peter didn’t trust himself not to wreck Wade’s asshole if he was still dripping cum and crying when Peter put him back in the cage.
“Okay, little daddy.”
『What were we arguing about?』
「I… don’t remember.」