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1. Off to the races, place your bets, don’t forget the spinnerets!
Wade might have originally fallen for Spider-man, but he's ended up dating Peter. And he’s got no complaints on that front. He only wants to make sure that Spider-man isn’t feeling unwoo-ed, if you will.
But how do you woo someone who's having a bad night? For the sixth night in a row?
One of the cops Spidey was familiar with died on the job last week. Spidey hadn’t been there, was saving someone else on the other side of town. Not Spidey’s fault. Spidey doesn't even like cops. Spidey says he’s fine. Spidey isn’t fine, obviously. He’s been swinging himself into the ground the last few nights. His landing on a roof top next to Wade is punctuated with a small stumble that speaks volumes.
“Let’s go home, Webs.”
“It’s not even midnight.”
“Says the guy who teaches 8am o-chem.”
Ah, there’s the shrug that silently says that’s a Peter problem .
“Then just come here for a second,” Wade sits in the shadows from the next taller building, and leans his back against brick. Bends and spreads his legs. “No one can see, just for a moment baby boy.”
Spider-man folds himself between Wade’s knees, back to Wade’s chest, almost like he can’t help it. Like he’s touch starved. Like Peter doesn’t sleep with all four limbs wrapped around Wade every night.
The tension is already bleeding out of him. “Mmmm,” agrees Wade, and he runs his hands up and down Spidey’s arms. Spidey, who is already turning into Peter, with the way he lets Wade loosen his web shooters and push them up his wrists. Wade finds the gap between sleeve and glove to plant a kiss on each of Peter’s bony wrists.
There’s the hot debate of whether Spider-man uses web shooters, or if he’s got his own. The answer is: both. Spidey’s own webs are much stronger and can take weeks to dissolve. So he made a formula that wouldn’t leave NYC coated in white gunk (hehe, white gunk, Wade loves Spidey's white gunk).
The fun part being: where Spidey’s own webs shoot from is…sensitive. Wade has only tried to make a ‘wrilitoris’ joke once. Spider-man made sure he wouldn’t try a second time.
That doesn’t mean he’s opposed to the idea of what they do to him.
The first brush over Peter’s wrists is casual. So is the second and third. The fourth gentle swipe of Wade’s thumb sends tremors through Peter’s body. “There we go,” breathes Wade. “Good boy.”
Which immediately replaces “casual” with “deeply erotic”.
“W-w-wade,” breathes Peter. And let Wade tell you, if you’ve never made Spider-man stutter your name with a few thumb swipes, you are missing out.
Not that Wade is interested in sharing his spider.
“Hi handsome,” the next press of the thumb is firmer and Peter whines. “What’s up with you?”
“Everything. Everything is very up.”
“Already? You flatter me Mr. Man.”
“Hey I can feel your boner too-” Peter is cut off by another press of Wade’s thumbs. Peter recovers with a ragged gasp, sits up a little, and turns his head to look at Wade.
No, not Peter. Spidey. He’s still in the mask. Big white lenses make it impossible to know where he’s really looking. If Wade didn’t know the guy like the back of his own big ugly hands. Spider-man’s face falls sideways, pressing into Wade’s jaw through his own mask. Spidey arches his spine back, to put more pressure on Wade’s erection.
Got him.
Wade takes Spidey’s wrist with him to push his own mask out of the way of his mouth, and then presses his warm wet tongue to the web zone. He doesn’t dig into the spinneret just yet. He only laps across it. Correct move. The arachnerd makes a very un vigilante-like squeak and his hands curl into fists. Wade gives the other wrist the same attention.
Then stays at that wrist to ghost warm air over the small opening. That works too.
The whole thing makes Wade wish he had two mouths (which he’s normally thinking about Peter instead). But he does his best to give both wrists equal amounts of sloppy wet love.
It only takes a couple minutes for Spidey’s whining to turn to growling. Oh god. Wade pulls one of his legs up and over Spidey’s, letting the guy wiggle his torso down so he can grind against one of Wade’s legs. Jesus jitterbug. Holy hotcakes. Gobsmacked go-
Spidey comes like he always does, verbal up until the last second and then he goes silent as he shakes. This one is a little different, in that his literal webs shoot. Not just as a metaphor Wade uses for his dick.
Not that there isn’t a wet patch somewhere down there too.
Spidey sinks back into Wade’s chest fully, and Wade rests his chin on top of his spider’s head as he very carefully covers the wrists of glory back up. “Good bye, my favorite little silk spinning organs,” he whispers.
“Home?” offers Wade again.
Spidey nods, and drags himself to his feet.
Wade is expecting him to be mad. He was last time Wade tried to initiate a in-suit-rooftop-orgasm-session. But Spidey is silent all the way back to the apartment. Just pulls Wade towards the shower with him. Which isn’t unusual , per say, only unexpected.
He’s still waiting for a ‘Wade we can’t do that, what if we get caught’ or a ‘that’s not what heroes do’ or a ‘Spider-man is better than that’ perhaps even a 'We should charge for that if it's gonna be a show'. Even naked under the shower spray, while Peter hovers outside waiting for the water to get warmer.
Up until the water does get warmer, Peter gets in, and hugs him. Says quietly amongst the water and steam. “I love you. You always make me feel better.”
2. He crawls walls and swings from roofs, but Spidey isn’t bullet proof.
Wade hears the click of the gun from inside a very good dream that involves Peter, a slip-n-slide, and a jar of nutella. His body is moving before his brain has fully extracted itself from all the messy goodness, and Wade wakes to covering Peter like the human shield he is.
No hazelnut-based fantasies in this reality. Just their dark bedroom that has, to his best guess, three extra bodies in it. Not in a fun way either. Orgies, in his opinion, should be well-lit affairs with lots of lu-
Peter has reached his arms and face around Wade. He sees pretty well in the dark, and shoots webs that land on someone who curses and fires a gun. Wade shoves Peter’s head back behind his shoulder.
“You hit?”
“Nope, you?”
“Surprisingly no.”
There’s a thump of someone tripping and falling in the dark. Peter shoots webbing in the direction of the light switch. It reveals three men with ski masks and guns, eyes covered in Peter’s webs. One of them has tripped and fallen, thanks to all the crap Peter and Wade leave on the floor of their apartment.
“Nice,” says Wade. “That was your go-to move in high school.”
“How do you know that?” asks Peter, extracting himself from his human shield and webbing the weapons away from their intruders. He webs their mouths shut too.
“The Ultimate Spider-man show. Ran from 2011-2017.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” says Peter, lassoing the three men together and hoisting them from the ground with a makeshift web pulley. He sleepily leans his head on Wade’s shoulder when the taller man comes to stand next to him. “You okay?
“Right as rain baby boy. You all good?”
“Yeah,” yawns Peter. “I don’t think they saw my face.”
“Can I torture them for information?”
“Only if they don’t cooperate with the Avengers first.”
“You’re no fun.”
“That’s not what you said last night.”
“Think these guys are uncomfortable yet?” Wade gestures to the struggling trio.
“They better be,” says Peter. “It’s 3am.”
“Should we call Tony or Natasha?”
They opt to call Tony, and dissolve into a puddle of laughter on the floor when it’s Steve who picks up.
…
The three goons do cooperate with the Avengers. Tony is scary when he's been woken before the sun. But the goons are all low level lackeys and can only name where they are from, and their orders. Which is half the country away, and to capture Deadpool. In as many different pieces as they could.
“What were they gonna do? Gun me apart?” asks Wade. “This is why I carry katanas.”
“No,” says Steve, “you carry them because you think they look cool.”
“Says the guy dressed like the flag. I can’t believe I have to go to Kansas to find the leader of these motherfuckers.”
“Great place to hide, actually,” says Tony. “Why would anyone go to Kansas to check out suspicious behavior?”
“I hate agreeing with you Iron Dick, yet here we are,” concedes Wade.
“I don’t think Iron Dick is quite the insult you think it is.”
“And I still think you’re compensating for something. That something being your-”
“Peter should stay in the Tower while you’re gone,” says Steve. “If they know where your apartment is.”
“No thank-” starts Peter.
Wade turns and holds both sides of Peter’s face to squish it like a goldfish. “Spider-babe, no staying in our apartment when we’re under attack from Kansas. I’m the only one who should be getting webbed up in our bedroom. You can either stay in the Tower or go stay at the School.”
“Yukio and Megasonic are in Japan right now,” mumbles Peter. “It’s not fun without them.”
“Then the Tower it is.” Wade nuzzles Peter’s nose with his own until the arachnerd pushes him away with a laugh.
3. Cold as a fridge, dark as a keep, keeps our Spidey fast asleep.
“Pinky's Porno Palace, what's your pleasure?”
“Wade, it’s Natasha.”
“How’s my second favorite spider-themed superhero?”
“I don’t technically have any super powers.”
“I’d make a slightly sexist joke, but I’m honestly terrified of you.”
“Good. Is that gunfire? Should I call back later?”
“Yes it is, and no, now’s a great time. Is spider-bae okay?”
“I am calling about Pete, hold on, okay you’re on speaker phone with me and Steve.”
“Ohhhh fun! What are you two up to? Driving around listening to T-Swizzle?”
“I’m more of a Beyonce man myself.”
“I love that about you Steve, but you don’t have to pick, you can like both.”
“Um, thanks. So right, we’re calling about Peter because he hasn’t been taking care of himself.”
“Your spider has stopped using the sleep.”
“Ah, he does that sometimes.”
“We don’t know if he’s slept since you left for Kansas.”
“Shit, how long have I been gone?”
“Three nights.”
“Has he started doing the thing on the-”
“-ceiling? Yeah. But he won’t let any of us convince him to get some rest. He keeps saying he’s fine.”
“Him and Neil Josten.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it, hold on a sec.” sounds of explosions “Okay, here is what you need to do. First and foremost, you need to turn down the temperature in that one lounge room that has the really deep couches in it, and dim the T.V. brightness by like, 10ish percent.”
“Why-”
“Trust me, I live with the spidey senses.”
“Okay fine.”
“Next you’re going to barge in on Petey Pie when he’s supposed to be sleeping and isn’t, and tell him you’re all binge watching Cartoon Network reruns until your eyes bleed. In the name of culturing Steve.”
“ All of us?”
“As many as you can. It will add peer pressure. If it can be you two, and Bruce, that will work. Bruce is his favorite.”
“Bruce is his favorite?”
“Aw Stevie poo don’t fret, you’re one of my favorites.”
“It would be a relief to be no one’s favorite, but continue.”
“So you’re all gonna be sitting there watching, as I said before, Cartoon Network reruns. I suggest Codename Kids Next Door or Samurai Jack, but anything is fine as long as it’s not Courage the Cowardly Dog.”
“Why?”
“Because that one is scary. Obviously.” someone screams in pain in the background “Alright, so at this point the room should be pretty chilly because you did what I said earlier and turned down the temperature. One of you is going to stand up and grab a blanket, and another is going to say you want one as well. Then you’re just going to go ahead and throw a blanket at everyone who is there anyways. This will include Peter, who will not let you make him cozy, but is weak against a good blanket.”
“Alright.”
“Petey should fall asleep in less than three episodes.”
“And that’s all?”
“Not quite. Once you’re sure he’s asleep, you’re gonna dim the TV brightness another thirty-ish percent. And only turn the volume down a little. Any big changes will startle the spidey senses. Then, and this is the most important part, you all need to sleep on those couches too.”
“That’s ridiculous-”
“No, it’s not. If Peter wakes up by himself he will start to dilly dally around and not keep sleeping. But if he wakes up and you all are snoozin too, he’ll go back to sleep.”
“...”
“Fine. Thank you Wade.”
“No problemo. Now you two kids have fun.”
Wade hangs up the phone, throws a bad guy across the room, and smiles to himself. That last part about Peter not sleeping alone wasn’t strictly true. But Wade likes the idea of a big ol fashioned Avenger sleepover.
4. Feeling restless? Got an itch? Don’t forget, your Spidey can switch!
Contrary to popular belief, Wade uses the door to his apartment as much as he uses the window. The door happens to be easier when both your legs are badly broken, such as now.
Okay, fine. Spidey’s giving him a piggyback ride, and could have fit them both through the window. They are both too tired for that today.
“Do you want down on the couch?” asks his boyfriend.
“Just slide me into the bathtub.”
“Kay.”
It’s less of a slide and more of a thump. Spidey helps Wade peel off his suit. It’s easier for things to grow back in not-funny shapes without it. And his legs are already healing. Crushed bones are easier than full on muscle regrowth.
Spider-man gets the bath running and then plops down on the bathroom floor next to it. Finally pulls off his mask.
It’s a stupid thing that he does every night, that Wade never gets over. Watching red and black spandex slide up and over that stupid nose, those big stupid eyes. All that stupid fluffy brown hair. It’s a thrill every time. He gets to kiss those dimples. He gets to violate that-
Peter leans back against the tiled wall and sighs. “I think the elephant really ties the room together.”
Wade watches himself throw up walls like an out of body experience. He can’t help it. Maybe if it was a good day. It’s not a good day. “What the fuck do you want me to say Webs? ‘Sorry the voices in my head were extra loud today? So I compromised and stepped off a building instead of blowing my own brains-”
Peter hits the floor with a fist and a tile shatters.
“Are you mad that I’m talking about it? Or not talking about it? Make up your mind-”
“You’re not trying to talk about it, you’re trying to fight about it-”
“News flash, you’re dating a psycho, there isn’t a-”
“Yes there is, and you know it. Don’t act like you’re crazy just because-”
Wade laughs and empty, horrible laugh. “This isn’t acting, and you know it.”
“Just tell me what happened so I can help next time-”
“YOU CAN’T!” roars Wade. “You’re not stuck in my head like I am. And sometimes being stuck in here means that I will do anything to not hear my own thoughts anymore. You can’t change that, you’re not special-”
Peter stands up and walks out of the bathroom.
Fuck.
Wade contemplates trying to strangle himself with the shower hose, but he knows it won’t hold his weight. And the bath isn’t deep enough to drown himself. Besides, none of it is as painful as sabotaging the best thing that’s ever happened to him. So he soaks in the lukewarm water and self pity until his legs heal then gets out of the tub.
He doesn’t rinse out the bloody ring the water leaves. As if Peter needs another reason to hate him.
Wade wraps a towel around his waist. Lines up a few insults to push Peter to the edge if he doesn’t break up with Wade on sight. Goes into the kitchen.
Peter has taken off the top half of his suit, boots, and gloves. He looks so dumb in just the pants. He’s making toast. Wade loves him. Wade says, “why are you still here?”
“I live here.”
“Not for long.”
Peter doesn’t take the bait. “Oh, are we moving?”
“No, we’re breaking up. If you can’t handle it when I-”
Peter sighs, sets down the toast, crosses the room to Wade and hugs him. “Stop. I shouldn’t have pushed. We’ll talk about it later”
Wade doesn’t hug him back. “I’m going to be just as unreasonable later.”
“I know.”
“We can’t keep doing this Pete. I can’t keep…hurting myself and then dealing with you getting upset.” That’s an oversimplification, and understatement of Wade’s bad days. A smoothing over of days that tear both of them apart.
“I mean, you technically can.” Peter still hasn’t let go of the one sided hug. “That’s like, your entire mutation.”
“You can’t keep… living like this.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I don’t want to find out.”
“So your solution is breaking up.”
No, Wade’s solution on days like this is to burn his entire life to the ground. The break up will only be step one.
“Get lost Peter.”
Peter squeezes tighter. “Not a chance.”
“We both know I can’t change.”
“I don’t know that.” Uh oh, here comes the scientist. “There’s not enough proof for a conclusion yet. I'm staying stuck to you like stink on shit.”
“Like tar and feathers.”
Peter continues to hold him. “I don’t want you to change who you are. I love you. I just want you to try and tell me when things get this bad, before you go stepping off buildings on purpose.”
“I-”
“Ah ah, I said try ,” says Peter. “That gives you plenty of wiggle room to succeed and fail and give me plenty of data. Just try for a while, and then if somewhere along the road you decide you don’t want me…”
He has verbally backed Wade into a corner. They both know it. Wade can talk about Peter not being able to handle him, about how he’ll never change, blah blah blah. But Wade can’t pretend not to want Peter. It’s his most primary function at this point. He wants Peter, then he breathes, then he eats, shits and sleeps.
Wade wraps his arms around Peter. Feels himself drop into arms that wouldn’t be able to hold him up unless they had the proportionate strength of a spider. Peter lets out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“I don’t actually want to break up.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“Is that a Star Wars reference?”
Peter pulls back his head to look at Wade. “Are you trying to turn me on?”
“Is it working?”
Peter untangles an arm so he can cup the side of Wade’s face. “You feeling some type of way?”
The average person wouldn’t want sex right now. Wade isn’t average, hell, most of the time he doesn’t even feel like a person. “Call me OSHA the way I’m demanding a railing?”
The average person wouldn’t want to fuck Wade right now. Peter isn’t average, and he knows that sometimes getting out of his head and into his body is what makes Wade feel more like a person.
He turns Wade around and pushes him towards the couch, pulling off the towel around Wade’s waist as they go. They don’t lay down on the furniture. Instead, Peter bends Wade over it and ghosts hands up the larger man’s sides. Bends to kiss an ass cheek. Gently smoothes over the back of his thighs. Says those damn three words again. “I love you.”
“I don’t know why,” gasps Wade.
“That’s okay.” Even facing away from him, Wade can tell he’s smiling. “It’s none of your business anyways.” Kisses the other cheek. Nudges Wade’s feet a little further apart.
As Weasel has most eloquently put it, Wade looks like an avocado had angry hate sex with an older, more disgusting avocado. But that’s not the way Peter touches him. With Peter it's all reverence, even when he’s nervous, tired, or aching with need. It’s Peter touching Wade like there’s something about Wade worth worshiping. Spending too much time on his thighs (Spidey is weak for the thighs). Curling hands around biceps (Spidey loves a good bicep squeeze). Flattening himself across Wade for a moment, so he can kiss the back of his neck while he reaches around to grope Wade’s chest (Spidey definitely has a size kink).
Peter’s ministrations are far from the sexiest or kinkiest things that Wade has ever experienced. Hell, they aren’t the sexiest or kinkiest things that Peter and Wade have done together.
It doesn’t fucking matter. It’s Peter. And Wade’s legs are shaking, his erection digging into the couch.
“This is feeling suspiciously like something that would fall into the love-making category.”
“Oh,” Peter grins against Wade’s skin. “You can file a complaint later, with my secretary.”
“I don’t think Matt wants to read what I have to say about your-”
Peter spreads Wade’s ass and breathes hot air over his hole. It shuts the merc up immediately. “Find the lube,” murmurs Peter. “Or I really will make love to you.”
Wade scrambles around in the couch cushions, finds the living room bottle (as opposed to the bathroom bottle, or the kitchen bottle. It’s a good thing they don’t get a lot of guests.)
Peter fingers Wade open with reverence too. It’d be fucking embarrassing, if Wade wasn’t two seconds away from blowing his load with only two fingers knuckle deep in him. “Webs I-
“Go for it big guy,” says Peter. “Treat me.”
It’s too much. Wade cums all over the couch. He doesn’t care, it’s not even the most questionable stain on there-
Somewhere in the midst of Wade’s orgasm, Peter’s gotten a third finger in there. “No more,” Wade demands. Peter relents, and pulls away his hand to line his dick up. They’re getting better at walking this line. The line of Wade liking needing a bit of pain, and Peter not wanting to hurt him.
“All at once, Petey Pie please, just- oh fucking shit fuck fuck fuck.” Peter pushes inside him all at once, just like he begged asked. And Wade’s 'spent' dick is already starting to twitch again.
Here’s the thing about Spidey having the proportionate strength of a spider: Your average spider can lift up to 170 times its own bodyweight. And radioactive spiders are not average. Wade’s not going to do the math while he’s being pounded within an inch of his life, but you get the idea.
Wade is fully hard again, and there’s no room in his mind for anything other than that place inside him that Peter grazes every 3-4 brutal thrusts. And the way Peter’s hands grip into his hips. And the way-
Wade is taller than Peter. Wider. Broader. Has better finances, and some might even say, be funnier. But Peter is stronger. Somehow in the midst of pound town, Peter has the instinct to place one perfect spidery hand on Wade’s mid back and push him down further. It changes the angle. Peter is no longer skimming that place inside Wade, he’s targeting it. Then, if that wasn’t enough to make him see stars (he is, there are chibi versions of Hugh Jackman and Jennifer Garner swimming at the edge of his vision): Peter straightens his own torso. Brings a hand between the two of them, and thumbs the stretched ring of muscle where Wade is taking him. Reverence.
The orgasm crashes into Wade without warning, like that time with the bus in Yonkers. Unlike the time with the bus in Yonkers, there’s a couch to hold him up (barely) and the world’s hottest spider-themed superhero pumping his own orgasm into Wade like he belongs there.
…
Peter plops Wade into the bathroom for the second time that night. This time it’s a shower, that quickly dissolves into Peter being fucked under a hot spray of water. By the time they wrap that up and get into bed, Wade feels boneless in a good way. Not a “I stepped off a building because of the voices in my head” kind of way.
It helps to have his best friend sprawled almost on top of him.
“Petey Pie? You awake honey? Hey webs-”
“How,” groans Peter, “Do you know right when I’ve fallen asleep?”
“Are you ever scared of trying your best because you don’t want to find out if your best is good enough?”
Peter is quiet for so long, Wade thinks he’s fallen back asleep. Then he says, “Sounds kinda like imposter syndrome.” He would know. “But maybe worrying if you’re good enough for...whatever you're doing, is evidence that you’re the exact kind of person who should be trusted with it.”