Peter is always beautiful. Even when he's clad in stained sweatpants and a too-big tee-shirt, acne flaring up on the fair skin of his cheek, Wade thinks his boyfriend is the most beautiful thing in the world. He's an angel made of stardust when he wedges himself against Wade while they watch television. His weight is insignificant on Wade's rising and falling chest and he can feel the hardness of Peter's ribs press into his stomach.
To cradle the base of Peter's skull when they lay like this is instinctive, as is running his fingers through silky curls. The actions, so gentle, so domestic, make Peter purr. As the boy slips into well deserved slumber Wade presses a kiss to the crown of his head, inhaling the smell of coconut shampoo and committing it to memory. He shifts Peter to rest against his side, the younger man's arm snaking around his torso. Wade tilts his head at an angle that allows him to openly stare at the sleeping youth.
These are the nights when they are weary to their bones and take to each other to ease the burden that weighs heavily on them. These are nights Wade has never had. His life pre-Peter he would either drink himself into an alcohol induced coma, much to Weasels chagrin, or whittle the hours away watching late night infomercials listening to his Boxes bicker.
Some nights the loneliness became too much to bare and he searched for another body to warm his bed. The sex was a physical release and little more. He kept his suit on and pretended the pretty little moans bubbling out of the prostitutes mouth were real. He came, he paid, and they left him again to his lonesome.
The hollowness that gaped within him is gone, no more nights watching bad TV in the dark wishing he could die.
His nights now are filled with soft touches, chaste kisses. They are almost reverent these nights, too tired to indulge in sins of the flesh. Peter always falls asleep before Wade, which is fine by him. He uses the time to memorize the details of his lovers face as if it's the last time he'll see it. (Because even though he and Death are on good terms he's terrified She'll take Peter from him one day.)
Peter's eyebrows have grown bushy, although the hairs are light. Thin lips are a blushing pink color, the shade somewhere between a spring rose and bubblegum. His ears, Wade smiles when he notices it, stick out just a bit more than normal.
Peter's deep, even breaths whisper across his skin and when he's loose limbed and warm Wade carries him to their bedroom.
On their couch there's only room enough for them both to lay down if Peter lays on top of him, but on the bed there is plenty of space. Still, Peter remains nestled up to him, shifting away only when his dreams cause him to turn over, fitful for a moment, and then calm again.
Once whatever dreams flitting through his mind awaken him. He struggles, cries out sleep garbled words Wade doesn't understand, and unseeing eyes pop open. Peter thrashes, close to breaking the bed frame. He stills when Wade grabs him, his eye sockets steeped in shadows and although Peter doesn't see him Wade feels like the boy is looking into his soul. Peter's pupils are blown so wide blackness swallows his irises and it reminds Wade of the lacquered shine of a beetles wings.
Their sheer curtains let the moonlight pour in and it makes Peter's skin appear luminous. It contrasts with the shadows that fill his collarbones.
He looks, wrapped in moonlight and darkness, eyes made of obsidian, celestial. Whatever has made Peter jolt awake so abruptly recedes from the forefront of his brain and he relaxes into their dirty sheets. His ragged breathing slows and Wade covers him with a blanket.
The moment passes, the creature before Wade once again just Peter Parker. Not an angel fallen from the heavens, just a boy who was bitten by a radioactive spider.
Wade stops looking at him when he can't hold his eyelids up any longer.
Other times Peter is some seductive creature of myth. Hickory brown eyes sparkle with cleverness, mischief. His mouth twists into that cocky smile, and his tongue darts to swipe along the white of his teeth. Lashes so long it's criminal flutter teasingly at him, and then suddenly wink right before hands shoot out to yank Wade's hood down over his head.
Peter's cackling laugh rings out as Wade gives chase.
Peter is gorgeous when he's drunk on pleasure, his pale flesh on display and flushed, Wade's love marks scattered on his chest and neck only for the blemishes to fade by morning. The boy is sin and heaven at once.
Even when Peter is grumpy from lack of sleep and a missed meal, he's beautiful. Wade loves his scowl and those furrowed eyebrows. A valley is pinched into the space between those eyebrows and tiny, sour lines appear in the corners of his mouth. He loves kissing the frustration away, watching irritation crumble and give way to laughter.
He loves all of Peter's expressions, but this one… this one is something else.
Peter is furious, rage tingling across his body. Spider-Man usually has a grip on his emotions, but Tony has exhausted the last of his patience. They have, miraculously, kept their relationship out of the man's radar. They knew it was prolonging the inevitable.
Tonight, the inevitable arrived.
They were the first on the scene to deal with a new 'evil genius' who was terrorizing the city. Wade personally thought 'evil' and 'genius' were generous terms to give to someone stupid enough to pull any kind of stunt in New York. Where the Avengers live and frequent.
As ill thought out as the man's plan is, he did have a significant amount of explosives and the threat of anthrax. Peter and Wade have the situation under control when Tony shows up, uninvited and unneeded.
Wade's voices bicker with one another. Yellow is jealous of the way Peter perks up excitedly when he sees the man, eager to impress him. White is more depressing, resigned to Tony stealing their Spider from them. Tony is a better partner, White sighs. Rich and smart and how could Wade Wilson ever compare?
Wade hisses at them to be quiet because he can't hear what Peter is saying to Stark. He listens, watches, and it becomes apparent they are arguing.
Tony has stepped out of his Iron Man suit and is gesturing wildly, waving a hand at Wade, his face turning red as his voice rises.
Oh.
Wade tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. Tony's opinion means little to him, but he knows they share esteem for Peter. Tony is undoubtedly saying he is a deranged murderer who Peter shouldn't grace with the time of day. And he's right.
What he hears next makes him look up sharply. He's never heard Peter angry, not truly. But his voice is cold and steely as he addresses the man Wade knows he adores.
"You will not speak that way about my boyfriend." Tony's mouth falls open, shock spilling across his face. Peter advances before he can get a word out of his gaping mouth, shoulders tense and hands balled into fists. He looks like a predator about to strike. "Deadpool is a better person than you will ever give him credit for, and if I ever hear you talk about him like that again you will not be hearing from me again." His chin juts out, a finger jabbing Tony's chest harshly to emphasise his point.
In the dwindling pink and orange light of the setting sun Wade can see Peter is shaking, the anger he feels more than his spindly frame can contain. His mask conceals his features, but Wade can see the tightness in his jaw.
For once, it seems, Stark is speechless.
Peter stomps over to where Wade stands stock-still. He grabs his hand almost violently, intertwines their fingers, and walks with his back turned to Tony who remains at a loss for words.
"Get on." Peter grinds out, and Wade jumps to obey. Clinging to Spider-Man's back for dear life, they swing away from Tony into the dense city.
Sunlight shines on the windows and reflects blindingly. Wade hooks his chin in the crook of Peter's shoulder and neck, closing his eyes. Peter gets them home without incident. Inside Wade dismounts quickly, not knowing what to expect from an enraged Peter.
Peter doesn't pay him much mind, pacing back and forth as he pulls his mask of.
"How dare he." Peter hisses, running a hand through his matted hair. "How dare he talk like that. He doesn't fucking know what he's talking about, that pompous ass!"
Yellow and White are in agreement that angry Peter is incredibly sexy. His face is glowing with an intense blush and sweat shines on his cheekbones.
Wade swoops in, kissing Peter firmly and cutting off a rant. The boy squeaks, caught off guard, and then returns the kiss. It's a scorching, teeth clashing kiss, and Wade decides angry sex will definitely be the end of resolution to any disputes they may have. Peter's fingers curl into Wade's shoulder for purchase that he uses to jump, legs constricting around the bigger man's waist.
Peter's grip on him is ironclad and his mouth moves to Wade's ear, hot breath loud as he sucks on the lobe.
"You didn't have to do that." Wade says.
Peter's body crashes into his, leaving no space between them. Peter's presence is smothering and Wade loves it.
"If I let him talk about you that way you'll think it's okay." He explains, teeth sinking into the rough flesh of Wade's neck. He sucks, hard and angry, and then breaks the bruising suction. "It's not. He doesn't know you."
Peter's words, their implication, buzz in his head like angry hornets.
Things for Wade go hazy, the passion of Peter's touch and sentiment dizzying. But he can't help agreeing with Stark. "I'm not a hero, baby boy. He's right-"
Peter growls, pulls away and grabs Wade's chin in one hand, the other gripping the back of his neck. An inkling of superhuman strength goes into the touch and for the first time Wade feels fear trickle down his back.
He's seen what Spider-Man is capable of.
The fear doesn't last. Peter would never dream of hurting him and even if he accidentally did Wade would heal. No; the fear, moments after appearing, is converted into arousal. This darker side of Peter, his perfect baby boy, really does things for the man's kinky side.
That grip turns apologetically light. Peter must have seen his hesitant anticipation and misconstrued it for fear.
"Don't let yourself believe what other people say." The anger softens into a more familiar expression. Love, sincerity. His face smooths and Peter's touch is gentle. "You're beautiful; inside and out." He kisses Wade again.
It never ceases to amaze Wade how good a kisser Peter is. Not the technique, but the way Peter pours all of his loving into the kiss. Like he's dredging up every good feeling he has about the ex-merc and willing Wade to feel it. And Wade can. Peter's adoration washes over him, as cleansing as rain.
Wade's arms holding Peter tighten. He looks up at the boy and sees the creature from that night, ethereal and unknowable. His baby boy. His beautiful, perfect angel. Who else could love him the way Peter does?
No one. That he's sure of.
He doesn't know who moves first, but they're kissing, their lips moving together naturally. Peter's fingers slide up his head and Wade whines.
He misses his hair. Wishes he had it back so Peter could grip it harshly, throw him around by his hair when they're in bed and pet it soothingly when they're watching the Golden Girls.
"I want you to fuck me." He blurts.
Peter's reaction is so comical Wade laughs. The smaller man drops to the floor and for a second Wade thinks he's upset the other. Then his feet leave the floor and he's scooped into Peter's arms like a new bride, being carried to their bedroom.
A very unmanly squeal makes Peter shake his head, bemused.
"Are you really gonna?" He asks excitedly.
Peter throws him onto their bed in answer, traps Wade in with his body. Peter's grin is sharp and wolf-like. Wavy hair, usually coiffed atop his head, is wild and darkened with sweat. With that grin and disheveled hair, he almost looks dangerous.
Wade just about melts. Peter takes this as a sign to amp up his game.
"Do you like this? When I'm angry? Rough?" The words hiss through Peter's teeth and Wade shutters, hips rising off the bed in an attempt to get some friction.
"Fuck yeah."
He's abruptly pulled up, his suit impatiently removed and his wrists brought behind his back. Something cool and sticky binds them together. It takes Wade a moment to realize what the restraints are made of, and when he does the knowledge goes straight to his cock.
Webs. His baby boy is so good to him.
He's pushed flat against the mattress and Peter parts his legs. They fall open easily. Wade briefly considers struggling, but ultimately decides against it. Peter is such a soft soul he'd be devastated if he even thought he'd come close to hurting Wade. That fantasy is best saved for another day.
Peter settles between his legs, unmoving. Wade can feel the uncertainty coming off the younger man in waves. He's been with many partners and, excluding Vanessa, none of them were half as tentative as Peter. They were too eager to subdue and cause pain. Peter is reluctant because he loves him, and that makes Wade's heart full to the brim.
He's kissed so hard he can feel it in his toes. Peter breaks the kiss too soon and relishes Wade's dazed expression. It's a comfort, one that lets Peter relinquish to his role.
They have safe words for a reason. If one of them can't handle this game, they have the power to stop it.
Peter is just about to continue when Wade sits up with some difficulty and taunts him.
"What's the matter, baby boy? Can't handle what I do?" He's pushing for a reaction. Peter gives him one. His hand rises to his opposite shoulder and cuts through the air. The smack of skin on skin seems to rebound and Wade's head whips to one side.
Peter hadn't used any superhuman strength, but Wade also hadn't been expecting the slap. The sting tingles in his stomach. His gaze returns to Peter, who anxiously awaits his reaction. The boys expression remains stern, but his eyes are a window to his soul and they betray him. Wade sees that Peter is torn between sticking to his role and bursting into apologies.
"Was that a love tap or were you actually trying to hurt me?" He rocks forward with mock aggression, baring his teeth in a grin. Even with his hands bound behind him the action would make anyone else flinch.
Peter merely suppresses a laugh. He forces the man to lay flat on his back, thigh keeping Wade's legs open as he leans down to whisper in his ear. When Wade does it to him, it drives him up the wall. He hopes it will have a similar effect for Wade.
"Oh, we're just getting started. But if you're so impatient maybe I'll leave you here until you're ready to behave." The threat is an empty one, he'd never leave Wade incapacitated, but it makes the man groan.
"Yeah? Punish me for being a bad boy?" Wade raises a brow, insufferably cheeky.
Peter surges and crowds him, sneering. It surprises Wade enough that he shuts up.
"You're lucky I want to use your hole otherwise I would just leave you here. Would your neighbors hear you screaming for help, I wonder? I could gag you," Peter's fingernails scrape against Wade's abs maddeningly. He hates how the words sound in his mouth-the other really is better at this than he is-but Wade enjoys the mental image. It spurs Peter on. "You'll be a helpless little fly in my web, waiting for me to eat you up." His teeth snap together.
A genuine laugh rises from Peter and Wade looks at him curiously. "I mean, it's not like Spider-Man is coming to save you."
Wade gasps. "I'm having sex with Spider-Man!"
"And being far too chaty about it. But I know how you can put your mouth to good use." Peter strips his suit off, revealing his lithe frame and toned stomach. Wade stares at him appreciatively.
Peter maneuvers them so Wade lies on his side facing his cock and swallows thickly. "Show me what a good little slut you are."
Wade swallows him, sucking desperately. Peter moves a hand to the back of his skull and gives a few measured thrusts. He purrs happily, slurping around him. "I'm going to fuck your throat." Peter says. He waits a beat and then follows through.
The pace is steady and Peter waits for him to adjust before putting any power into his movements. Wade smirks against the man's pelvis and glances up to glimpse Peter's half lidded eyes. He blinks pointedly and pulls up to lick the head before sinking back down. The noise Peter makes is sinful.
"I'm going to choke you." Peter says darkly, and that's the only warning Wade gets. The hand on his head pushes him down unrelentingly, his baby boy's cock jamming down his throat.
Wade deepthroats him effortlessly, tongue licking him in a way that he knows will cause tremors in Peter's abdomen.
Peter hunches forward, neck tucked into his chest and fingers scrabbling at the back of Wade's head. His cock twitches. He pulls out, ignores Wade's whine, and rubs the head of his cock on Wade's tongue, smearing the bitter taste of precome on his lips.
Peter hauls Wade up to the center of the bed. Two fingers tap on his mouth and shove inside the second Wade's lips open.
"Get those nice and wet."
Fingers dripping with spit Peter grabs the bottle of lube from their nightstand and shimmies down between Wade's legs.
Peter grins to himself as he pours the cold lube into the cleft of Wade's ass. The man tenses, whines. It's a beautiful sound.
A finger slides into Wade, pauses, and then wriggles around.
"Petey," Wade tries to push his hips down on the finger.
"Hungry for more?" Peter follows the question with another finger. The twinge of pain doesn't last long, fading entirely when Peter brushes against Wade's prostate. Soon three fingers are inside him.
Wade smiles. Even when Peter pretends to hurt him Wade feels the anxious worry roiling inside the boy. Senses the careful calculation behind each action, meant to cause pain but not to harm.
"Are you ready?"
"Mmm, so ready, baby boy."
Peter makes quick work of removing the webbing that binds Wade's hands and enters him slowly. "Fuck, Wade. Feels so good."
Pride swells in him from the compliment and Peter peppers kisses on his face. "Gonna move, okay?"
"Fuck me stupid, Spider-Man."
"Someone beat me to that." Peter replies automatically.
Wade grins. His baby boy is so wonderful.
Peter pushes back in sharply, earning a yelp. He begins a fast pace, hands kneading Wade's thighs.
Peter's eyes shut, but Wade forces his to stay open. He wants to see Peter's orgasm crash over him.
The boy huffs, his bony hips pumping back and forth at a sweet speed. Wade can see from his lovers quivering thighs and furrowed brow that Peter is close. As if to prove his silent observation Peter grabs his leaking cock, working it in time with his thrusts.
The stimulation pushes Wade over the edge and his clenching heat pulls Peter down with him.
The two of them are a panting mess.
Peter stumbles to the bathroom on trembling legs. He returns with a washcloth that he uses to clean Wade, murmuring praise and loving words. When they're both clean Peter flops down beside his lover.
Wade hums and cuddles him. Peter sighs, kissing his forehead. "Was that… are you okay? I didn't do anything you didn't like, did I?"
"It was badass." Wade confirms. "You're sexy when you're angry."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, but you're always sexy. Just extra sexy when your protecting your helpless little boyfriend."
"No one bad mouths my boyfriend." Peter agrees, yawning, He snuggles against Wade, who wraps an arm around him.
He falls asleep first. Wade watches him all the while.