I Think I Might've Inhaled You

by SordidDetailsFollowing

Peter has enough problems with high school, his internship, and his arachnid alter ego. Throw in a merc with a mouth covered in unfairly sexy red spandex, and things get a little crazy. Wade just wants to eat tacos, listen to bad tween pop music, and participate in some soft-core torture and murder. When a certain little spider swings into his life, things get complicated.

11. You Look So Stupid, Happy and Numb

Peter

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter wasn't really sure what had just happened. He knew what had happened, because he wasn't having trouble with his memory, but his head was such a mess of hazy, heavy emotions that he could hardly begin trying to sort through it all.

He'd been staring at the closed door for over a minute now, eyes glued to the spot where he'd last seen Wade disappearing, the big man's shoulders tense and eyes guarded as he'd walked out. Walked away from Peter. He'd just been taking short, shallow breaths and doing his best to fight back the burning feeling in his chest so he wouldn't cry. It wasn't considered professional to cry at work. He sighed once, an unsteady breath meant to calm his nerves, and tore his gaze away from the door so he could sit back down in his chair.

Why had Wade just shown up here like that, with no warning at all? No. No, that wasn't fair. It wasn't his fault. Peter had been glad to see him, so happy that he'd come all the way here just to hang out with Peter. With Peter! Not just Spider-Man. Wade had texted Peter to hang out, and had gone to the trouble of sneaking in to Oscorp just to see him twice in one day. And then Harry had shown up and fucking ruined everything…

But no, that wasn't fair either. Peter hadn't told Harry about who Wade was to him. He'd never stopped Harry from kissing him in front of other people before. He couldn't blame his friend for behaving the way he always did with Peter. Although, he had thought that Harry was pushing it a little too far… Like he was doing it on purpose, just to show Wade that he could. But Peter was probably just being paranoid. Harry wouldn't do that. Harry was a good person; he wouldn't go out of his way to hurt someone like that.

Mostly, Peter just felt terribly, horribly, really fucking awfully guilty. Like he'd betrayed Wade. Cheated on him. And was it cheating? Peter hadn't done anything with Harry since he'd realized he was in love with Wade. He hadn't even seen Harry. And he'd intended to talk to Harry at school today, to tell him that they shouldn't mess around and kiss and be all cute and couple-y anymore. But Harry hadn't been in school. They'd texted, but Peter hadn't seen him at all until just now. Besides, he and Deadpool had never discussed what they were to each other or… Or talked about being exclusive. But those were incredibly weak excuses. And when Peter thought about the hurt look in Wade's eyes when he watched Harry touching him, he knew that all the excuses in the world wouldn't change the truth. He was cheating on Wade.

And he had hurt Wade. He'd seen it, heard it in his voice. And that was awful and incredible all at once, because it meant that Wade liked him. Liked Peter, enough that it hurt to see him with someone else. But it had been Peter who hurt him, so overall he just felt like shit. Really terrible, guilty shit.

He whimpered, running his hands through his hair as he stared blankly at the screen full of numbers. There was no way he could focus now. It was all a mess. His whole life was a fucking mess. He was constantly on edge about the Green Goblin and what he might do, when he'd show up next. Except when he was with Wade, and then he just forgot about everything else and just felt so stupidly happy and safe like some sappy teenager in a vampire novel (which come to think of it… Wade was probably immortal, and a dangerous anti-hero killer to boot). And even that was confusing, because Wade didn't know he was Peter. Or, that Spidey was Peter. But sometimes it felt like Wade did know, and other times he… He just looked at Peter like he didn't recognize him; like he was looking for someone else. And he thought Deadpool liked him as much as he liked Deadpool, but sometimes he worried that he was making more out of this than it was. He was a weepy, clingy mess because he felt like this was, you know, love, and his first and like if he couldn't be with Wade all the time he might just crawl under his covers and drown. And Wade… Wade almost shot himself because he thought he had touched Peter without consent. But he also was much more experienced, sexually, so maybe this was mostly about hooking up for him.

But then Peter would remember the way Deadpool sometimes looked at him, like he was seeing sunlight for the first time, and the way he held him, like Peter was so fragile and precious he might shatter, and the way he spoke to him, so reverent, so full of promise. And then Peter thought maybe this could be real. It was real. And he just wanted to be near Wade all the time and he needed to tell Wade who he was and fuck… Now Wade might hate him because of Harry and even if he put an end to it, talked to Harry tomorrow and came clean to Wade and explained everything… It was what he had to do, but he was scared. So scared of losing Wade when he'd only just found him.

Peter groaned into his hands, head hung, then pushed back roughly from the desk and stood up. He couldn't sit and stew in his guilt and worry any longer. He needed to do something. So he shut off his computer and sent a quick text to Harry.

Can we talk tomorrow? Meet before school at the diner?

He'd take care of it. He'd end whatever it was he had with Harry and make sure that things were right with Wade, and then maybe he could stop feeling like a filthy piece of trash stuck to the bottom of someone's boot. And if the Green Goblin could drop dead at some point along the way and all of his homework magically do itself, that would be great too.

Peter left the office without a backwards glance and took the bus home. He got a text from Harry as he was letting himself into his apartment.

Sure, Petey. See you at 7 xx

Peter swallowed down any inappropriate sorrow that rose in his throat at the sight of those two x's and tucked the phone away without responding. Aunt May was working the same shift as yesterday, so she wouldn't be coming home until almost midnight. He had just enough time to write his English paper and scarf down some dinner before he went out to meet Deadpool, so he better get busy.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Peter was nervous to see Wade again after the fiasco that afternoon, but his excitement far outweighed his nerves. He'd probably get to kiss him again. And Wade was a fantastic kisser. God, the things he could do with his mouth… Peter blushed just thinking about it. It was probably good that he'd been able to wear his mask when he and Wade had been… together, so far, because he was sure that the various shades of red that took over his face were not the most attractive.

It was only nine when he landed on the hotel roof, but Wade was already there, waiting for him. It gave Peter a little thrill to see him sitting there on the edge of the roof, gaze far away over the city and hands fiddling with something small in his lap; it looked like a flash drive. Deadpool was quiet, even as Peter walked across pavement towards him. He came to a stop at Wade's side, hesitating to speak when Wade was sitting so still and silent, spaced out, not even talking to his voices.

Peter swallowed and slowly sunk down to sit beside the mercenary, his mind flashing over the events of the afternoon and making him feel nervous all over again. "Hey." He finally said, voice soft. "You're quiet tonight." Wade jumped slightly, but he didn't throw any knives this time, so Peter would count that as a step in the right direction.

"Oh." Deadpool glanced at Peter and ducked his head slightly, an apology. "Sorry, Spidey. I was just thinking." He tapped the side of his head and Peter noticed that the flash drive had disappeared. "Too much goin' on in the ol' noggin. As per usual." Wade reached out and wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulders, pulling him into his warm side. Peter immediately relaxed, breathing out a relieved sigh as warmth and safety and the smell of Wade surrounded him. "How's it hanging, Baby Boy?"

Peter hummed slightly, laying his head down on Deadpool's muscular chest. "Better now." He admitted.

Wade's big, warm hand rubbed soothing lines up and down his arm. "Any trouble today?" He asked, concern plain in his voice.

"No." Peter assured him quickly. "Just a, um… A shitty afternoon."

"Wanna talk about it?" He offered sweetly.

Peter swallowed. "Not… Not right now." His voice fell to a regretful whisper. "Sorry."

Wade just gave his shoulders a squeeze. "Don't worry about it, little spider. We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. Besides, we should focus if we've got limited time again. You gotta walk someone home from work tonight?"

"Yeah." Peter sat up a bit, relieved to move on to the matters at hand. He'd talk to Wade about everything as soon as he ended things with Harry. Tonight they could just focus on his other massive, life threatening problem. "Eleven thirty." He wasn't technically walking his aunt home so much as following her from the sky and surrounding buildings, but who cares about semantics?

"Alrighty, Spidey." Peter could hear the grin in his voice, and he couldn't stop his own mouth from curling upwards in a smile. "Then let's get hopping. I've been looking forward to this aaaaaaall day." Wade leapt to his feet and Peter was quick to follow. Deadpool was shucking weapons from his belt again, piling them all at his feet, and Peter watched with interest as deadly tools appeared one after another, as if from thin air.

Wade was muttering under his breath as he pulled an impressively large number of guns from his belt and thigh and boots and back. Peter tried not to listen, but it was hard to miss with his super hearing. "Not right now… Because, White. I said so. And it's not necessary. He doesn't need to know that yet… Yeah, maybe."

Peter stepped forward as Wade slung the katanas off his back and set them gently down beside everything else, the last items he would take off. "Wait." Peter's tone was serious, and it halted Wade in his tracks. He gave Spider-Man a questioning look through the mask. "You're forgetting something." Wade glanced down at himself, ran his hands over his pouches and legs, and gave Peter a very confused tilt of the head.

Peter closed the distance between them and reached for the edge of Wade's mask, biting down on his lip when he heard the merc's breath catch. He carefully rolled the mask up to his nose, eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed skin, before reached back to roll his own mask up, too. "Aren't you going to kiss me hello?" He breathed, heart thudding in his chest.

A slow grin spread over Wade's mouth, and Peter couldn't help but stare. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. And then he was leaning in, soft, scarred lips landing on Peter's mouth, hot and eager but so very gentle all at once, his hands coming to rest on the teenager's waist. Peter relaxed into it with a happy sigh, hands landing on Deadpool's shoulders as he stood on his tiptoes to get more leverage. Wade's lips parted easily with the encouragement of Peter's tongue, and he pressed closer as he finally got to that sweet taste he'd been craving since last night. It had been so hard this morning not to just wrap his arms around Wade's neck and kiss him goodbye after breakfast, lick that maple syrup taste from his lips. Peter delved deeper now to make up for it, trying to find the taste of syrup somewhere in the depths of Wade's mouth. Wade made a low, almost cautioning sound in the back of his throat, his fingers tightening against Peter's ribs, and fought to take back control of the kiss.

Peter found that he quite liked it when Wade tried to take control. But he wasn't going to make it too easy on him. He gave a sharp bite to Wade's bottom lip, pulling a surprised gasp from the mercenary. "Careful, Baby Boy…" Wade warned, pulling his mouth out of Peter's reach. "If we keep this up, we might get… distracted."

Peter huffed in frustration and wrapped his arms around Wade's neck. He placed one foot on Wade's thigh and climbed him like a tree, settling down with his legs wrapped around Deadpool's waist and his lips mouthing insistently against his warm, textured jaw. "What if I wanna be distracted?" He murmured against Wade's skin.

Wade groaned, his arms slipping around Peter's waist to hold him up (although Peter was quite comfortable where he was and needed no assistance in staying put). "Is this… Mm. Is this what I get for dating a sixteen-year-old? You're right, Yellow. I guess it's true what they say. Teenage boys really are horny all the time."

Peter scowled, although his heart was soaring in his chest. Dating. Wade had said they were dating! "As if you're not?" He retorted, dropping his weight slightly to grind his ass against the hard line of Wade's clearly interested cock. Just for the purposes of making his point, of course. And not at all because it sent a wave of thick, hot pleasure running through his veins.

Wade grunted and gripped Peter more tightly, giving the impression that he was holding himself back from something. "Tell you what." He dipped his head to run his lips along Peter's bare neck, making him shiver. "We'll play a little game, alright?" His voice had taken on a rough edge, and Peter found it all the more arousing.

He hummed in agreement, tipping his head back to give Wade more access to his skin. "What kinda game?"

Wade bit lightly at the spot where his neck met his shoulder, making Peter jolt. "Every time you pin me down, you get a kiss." He trailed kisses up to Peter's jaw, his hands sliding down to land squarely on the hero's ass and squeeze.

Peter gasped. "Just… Just a kiss?" He questioned breathlessly, still managing to sound indignant.

Wade chuckled, low and dark in a way that went straight to Peter's dick. "I didn't say it would be on the mouth."

Peter groaned, tipping his head down to try to find Wade's mouth with his own, but the merc was already pulling away, prying Spidey's legs off of him with considerable strength and setting the boy back on the ground. Peter whined, shamelessly using his spider powers to cling to the shoulders of Deadpool's suit and resist separation.

Wade just chuckled, albeit a bit breathlessly. "Come on, Sweet-cheeks. We only have an hour or so because I know you're not gonna let us skip patrolling, and that's not much time. I'm not easy to beat, you know." Peter sighed, but he released his grip and allowed Wade to pace away a few steps, inconspicuously adjusting the front of his suit as he went.

Peter stuck out his bottom lip as he set his hands on his hips and stared at Wade, now facing him from several feet away. "Miss you." He pouted petulantly, not unaware that he was acting like a clingy teenage brat. He didn't care. Because Wade didn't care. Wade wanted him, and that made Peter feel so… powerful.

Wade stood still, fingers twitching at his sides. Peter could hear the quiet mumbled words, clearly not meant for him. "I know… Doesn't seem real. But it is. I think." There was silence for a moment, then he raised his voice to cover the distance between them. "If you want me, little spider, come and get me!" He slid easily into a fighting position, both completely relaxed and thrumming with danger all at once.

Peter took a deep breath, and grinned. Maybe he enjoyed this. Just a little more than he should. Deadpool was so good at it. It was exhilarating. "Get ready for a swift and easy defeat, Pool Boy!" He shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet, preparing to charge forward. "Your ass is mine." He darted towards Wade, ready to tackle him down as soon as he got his hands on him.

"Promises, promises!" Wade cackled loudly, dodging easily out of the way and spinning to land a well-placed kick on the back of Peter's thigh, causing him to stumble.

They fought like that for quite a while. Wade didn't hold back, and his wild, unpredictable style and uncanny ability to know where Peter was moving before he even knew himself made him the most challenging adversary Spider-Man had ever faced. And that was way more of a turn-on than it should have been. But over time, Peter got better at laying on the speed. He still couldn't predict what Wade was going to do, but he got better at dodging his attacks. They progressed to the point where neither of them could land a hit on the other, just dancing back and forth over and over, never quite touching. It got a bit frustrating.

And then Wade got out his knives. The first one he threw caught Peter completely by surprise. He hadn't even seen the mercenary draw it, or throw it. It was suddenly just flying through the air towards him. And he couldn't avoid it. Because his Spidey sense didn't even go off. He was so shocked that he froze and stared down at his chest where it had hit him, a dull throbbing pain where it had landed, right over his heart. It hadn't pierced the suit, or Peter's skin, since it was dulled. But it would probably bruise. And suddenly Peter realized that Deadpool was even more dangerous than he'd thought. He wasn't just an incredibly skilled fighter. With his weapons, he was like death itself, so swift and deadly accurate; unstoppable. The realization stole Peter's breath away.

That, and Wade landing a harsh kick to his stomach that knocked him on to his ass.

Peter grunted, but leapt back to his feet. He could see Wade hesitating, stance still defensive but gaze directed towards Peter's face as he waited for something. An indication that they could keep going. Peter huffed out a breath and darted forward to kick Deadpool's legs out from under him.

Their dance began again, but it was different now. Wade threw the occasional knife, and Peter got better at dodging them. Even without his Spidey sense (which must be taking a little vacation since the knives were dull and Deadpool didn't actually intend to hurt him), he could see them coming. He just had to get his body to move intentionally, rather than off pure instinct like he usually did. He felt crippled without his webs, and he knew that if he used them, he could have Wade restrained in under a minute (even if the restraints would only hold because Wade had removed all sharp objects from his person). But slowly, surely, he was managing to gain the upper hand. It would be different if Wade had his weapons, he knew, but as it was… He was starting to land hits. Just glancing blows at first, when Wade couldn't move out of the way fast enough, but soon they were more solid. And once Peter could get his hands on Wade, he could overpower him. He knew that. He just couldn't hesitate, couldn't hold back. And that was the whole point of this thrilling little exercise, wasn't it?

So when Peter finally got a grip on Wade's arms, he didn't stop himself from slamming him to the ground and holding him there. He leaned over Wade's mouth, labored breath mingling with the merc's heavy inhales and exhales, and grinned. "Gotcha."

Wade moaned, head rolling back as he relaxed under Peter's hold. "So… Fucking… Hot…" He panted, and Peter laughed.

"You just arranged this whole thing so you could get me to pin you down, didn't you?" He teased.

"Oh, yes. Definitely." Wade wriggled slightly, and when Spider-Man's hold on him didn't budge, he let out another breathy sound of pleasure. "Yeah, he is… Fuck."

Peter smirked, practically glowing with satisfaction. He loved seeing that he could affect Wade like this. Seeing such clear evidence that Wade liked him, his strength, his body. He sat up, straddling solid, muscular thighs, and loosened his hold. "You owe me a kiss, Big Red."

Wade sat up immediately, a shit-eating grin revealing perfect white teeth almost glowing in the hazy New York night. "You like that I'm big, huh?" He wrapped one hand around the back of Peter's neck and gripped him lightly. "Like that I'm so big and strong and you're my adorable little spider?" Peter hummed lightly, witty responses flying out of his mind like birds startled by a gun shot when Wade's other hand landed high on his thigh. Wade leaned in to breath against his ear. "Well I like it, too… You're so strong… So strong and good and perfect for me. My little spider. My Baby Boy."

Peter whimpered, fingers grasping at Deadpool's suit, wishing he were wearing his katanas so he could hold on to the straps. He gasped when Wade surged forward, laying Peter out on the rooftop and settling above him, weight balanced between his legs. "Alright, Spidey-Babe. I'm all about getting my mouth on that sweet sweet cotton candy skin of yours, but there's one thing we need to do first." Peter huffed out an impatient breath, opening his mouth to tell Wade that whatever it was could fucking wait, but Deadpool's leather-clad hand slid up to grip his jaw, forcing Peter to meet his gaze. He looked serious, so Peter went still, tension bleeding out of his body in the face of Wade's suddenly stern demeanor. "We need a safe word. You know what that is, right? 'Cause I know you're a young little thing but anyone who's ever watched porn or read Spideypool fanfics knows what a safe word is."

Peter nodded ever so slightly, eyes wide behind his mask as his pulse picked up. The notion that Wade thought they needed a safe word was simultaneously arousing and a little intimidating. But he trusted that Wade wouldn't push them into doing anything Peter would actually be uncomfortable with. So far, there didn't seem to be much that he wasn't chomping at the bit to try out with his morally ambiguous mercenary maybe-boyfriend. Wade was probably just being overly cautious given Peter's age and sexual inexperience, which Peter found almost as sweet as he found it aggravating.

"Good. This word is very important and you must never, ever forget it. No matter what, whether we're using the color system or not, doing sexy stuff of the fun adult-hugging variety, or not, you use this word if you ever feel uncomfortable. The safe word will stop everything. All at once. Completely. No questions asked. Got it?" Peter nodded again, and Wade released his grip on the boy's jaw, sliding his fingers down to stroke gently across the pulse point in his neck. "Good boy. Our safe word is Canada, okay?"

Peter's eyebrows furrowed in surprise. Canada? He'd been expecting something ridiculous like 'Spidey's ass is too fabulous for pants' or 'chimichangas for the win.' Or maybe something wildly inappropriate like 'Daddy's big fat cock' because Peter could not imagine himself ever saying something like that seriously. But no. Wade had chosen Canada. "Um… Okay."

Wade smiled. "Trust me, Baby Boy." Peter did. "Can you say it for me?"

Peter flushed, knowing that he was being tested and finding it a confusing combination of arousing and embarrassing. "Canada." He breathed, his stomach twisting slightly as the word left his lips.

Wade's mouth landed on his neck, tongue replacing fingers to trace over the delicate dip where his pulse thudded beneath paper thin skin. Peter squirmed, legs tightening around the larger man's hips. "That's right." Wade breathed. "So good for me…" He bit down ever so gently and Peter whined, arching up into him, bringing their hardened lengths together. Heat washed through Peter's body, sweeping him along once again until all he could think about was Wade and Wade's body and Wade's tongue and Wade's hands and he needed all of it. Needed Wade.

Wade seemed almost as affected, panting slow, heavy huffs of air against Peter's neck as he canted his hips forward, rolling them into Peter's over and over until Peter thought he might catch fire. "Please…" He didn't realize he'd been whimpering the word again and again, his hands grasping wildly at Deadpool's costume. "Please… Wade… Please, I-I need…" He turned his head to the side and found rough skin with his lips, pressing a kiss to Wade's jaw.

Wade sucked in a breath, harsher than the rest, and tipped his face up to catch Peter's mouth in a kiss. "Mm… Yeah…" He murmured the words, hot and thick between Peter's lips, still moving against him. "He… Fuck. I know, Baby Boy. Love it when you're so needy for me." Wade slipped his tongue into the young hero's mouth, pillaging it thoroughly and leaving Peter gasping when he pulled away and started sliding down Spider-Man's body, settling low between his legs. He tugged the top of Peter's suit up just enough to reveal a thin strip of skin, and licked a long, hot stripe from one hip bone to the other.

Peter moaned at the sight, head going fuzzier than it already was at the thought of Wade using his mouth on him again. But he caught Wade's shoulder with one hand and tugged at the fabric of his suit, stopping him. "Can I… Um, actually could we…" Peter swallowed, a nervous flush staining his cheeks and jaw. "I want…"

Wade grinned affectionately, setting his hands on Peter's hips. "Spit it out, Baby Boy. Whatever you want, okay? I'll do anything." His words might have been light, but his tone was heavy with promise, and Peter shivered.

He took a small breath before letting the words tumble out of him all at once. "I want to touch you. Can I touch you?" Wade froze, his grin falling away as he stared up at Peter in surprise. Peter felt his heart pounding and he suddenly feared that he might have overstepped his bounds. Did Wade not want Peter to touch him? "I-I mean… Only if you want…"

He watched the lines of Wade's neck move as he swallowed. "Fuck…" Wade breathed, and he seemed a little dazed. "No I… I don't either." He slowly crawled back up Peter's body to plant a kiss on his exposed cheek, and Peter relaxed a little bit. "Baby Boy…" Peter hummed happily, hands curling around the back of Wade's neck. "You don't have to do that. You don't have to touch me."

Peter blinked up at Wade, confused by his tone of voice. "I know." He stated simply. "I want to."

Wade huffed out one shallow, self-deprecating laugh. "Spidey, I… I'm like this," He raised one hand and pointed a finger at his jaw, moving it in a circular motion to indicate his whole facial area. "Everywhere. I know you don't wanna deal with that when we're doing that."

Peter frowned. He felt confused and annoyed and a little horrified that this was Wade's first reaction when Peter said he wanted to touch him. "Wade…" He raised one hand to the mercenary's cheek and stroked his skin, gently, kindly. "It doesn't bother me. I promise." He leaned up and pressed his lips into those impossibly soft, scarred ones that he was already addicted to. His heart twinged when Wade let out this small, broken sound, like he'd never been told that before. Like no one had wanted to touch him before. "Wade…" Peter murmured, hands grasping at him, just wanting him, needing him closer. "Wade, please… I want you."

Wade let out a short, desperate gasp, and then his mouth was claiming Peter's, hand sliding skillfully under the edge of Spider-Man's top and splaying across the planes of his stomach. Peter shuddered, fingers gripping frantically at Wade's belt, trying to pull it out of the way, unclasp it, something, but the damn thing wouldn't budge. After a few moments, Wade tore his hand away from Peter's silken skin to push Peter's fingers aside and fiddle with something on the front of the belt, and then it was falling away all of a sudden, hitting the rooftop with a dull thud, and Wade had never stopped kissing him breathless.

Eager to please and driven by that unstoppable ocean of need, Peter slipped one hand between their bodies and found the hard line of Wade's cock straining against its leather confines. He traced it shyly with his fingers before pressing his palm down against the bulge, and only then could he feel how big Wade was… His breath hitched as he jerked away from their kiss, eyes flying open behind the mask.

Wade drew back immediately and looked down at him, panting gently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Peter swallowed. "You're so… big." He breathed, then immediately flushed scarlet with embarrassment.

Wade stared at him for a second, then a slow smirk took over his mouth as he chuckled, low and dark and undeniably filthy. "Oh, Baby Boy… My sweet, innocent Baby Boy."

Peter wasn't sure if he should be offended or not, but something about the way Wade was looking at him right now, like he wanted to rip into Spidey with his teeth and consume him until there was nothing left, made Peter decide that he didn't care.

He leaned up, capturing Wade's lips again so they could resume their all-consuming kiss. It had a hungry edge to it now, something just bordering on desperate, and Peter felt his blood hum with heat. He squeezed around Wade's cock and felt the mercenary's whole body jerk as he moaned into Peter's mouth. And fuck. He wanted to make Wade do that again. He wanted to make Wade do that over and over and never stop.

He slid his hand down to scrabble for Wade's zipper, aching to get into his pants and make Wade feel as good as he always made Peter feel. Wade broke their kiss with a soft grunt and grasped Peter's wrist with one hand, stopping him. "You don't…" Wade swallowed, voice low with want. "You don't have to." There was no conviction in his tone, but Peter knew he was offering him an out. One last time. One last chance for Spider-Man to back down.

Peter growled. "Shut up." He broke Wade's grip as easily as brushing aside a fly, and found the zipper with his fingers. "Want you." He pulled it down, opening Wade's suit with that small metallic zipping sound that sent chills down his spine. "Need you." He shoved his hand inside and wrapped his fingers around Wade's thick, impossibly hot shaft.

Wade groaned, shuddering hard as his hips jerked, a quickly aborted thrust into Peter's grip. "Fuck." He gasped. Peter swallowed, achingly hard in his own suit and quickly growing incoherent with this need he always felt with Wade and never with anyone else. He forced himself to take deep breaths, focusing on the feeling of Wade in his hand. His skin was definitely scarred there too, but it was soft like his lips, and Peter felt his mouth watering as he slid his hand up, feeling the texture against his palm.

"God, Wade…" He breathed, carefully pulling his cock out from inside the suit so he had more room. "So big…" He felt silly saying those words, but his desire and Wade's reactions burned away any embarrassment he might have felt.

"Yes, Baby Boy…" Wade gasped. "Big for you. Fuck…" He shuddered again as Peter carefully slid his hand up, then back down his length, gripping lightly. He was hesitant, because this felt different than touching himself, and he didn't want to do the wrong thing. But even these slow, careful strokes seemed to be unraveling the mercenary, if his shallow, uneven breaths were any indication.

And then Peter didn't have the mental capacity to feel concerned about his performance, because Wade was shoving his hand into Spider-Man's pants and wrapping his gloved fingers around Peter's cock and they both moaned, pausing for a moment as heat washed over them.

Fuck. They were doing this.

"Wade!" Peter whimpered as Wade pulled him out of his pants, squeezing lightly, and threw his head back as he squeezed Wade in return. Hot lips attached to his neck, trailing fire from his jaw to his shoulder and back again. They set up a slow, light rhythm, hot, ragged breaths and the occasional soft sound filling the night air around them. And Peter was having trouble concentrating on what he was doing to Wade, but he did his best. Soon they were both gritting their teeth, wanting to go faster as the pressure built but the friction was rough and Peter, driven nearly incoherent with want, knew that they needed something.

"Can… Fuck, ah, Wade… Y-Your… Can you take off… I wanna…" He couldn't seem to put together a full sentence, but Wade understood. He released Peter, who gasped and went still at the momentary lost, and shuffled around for a moment, taking off his glove. There was a soft clicking sound, but Peter didn't give it much thought, just eager for Wade to touch him again, this time without unforgiving leather between them. Realizing he should probably do the same, he raised his hand to his exposed mouth and tore off his glove with his teeth, tossing it aside carelessly. He didn't waist time in finding Wade's cock with his hand once again, and he squirmed slightly, whimpering at the heat of him against his bare skin. Wade's responding groan sent shivers of pleasure down Peter's whole body.

When Wade's fingers finally wrapped around his shaft again, they were hot and textured and incredibly slick. Peter whined at the surprising sensation, arching up into Wade's solid body. He'd used something to… Well… Lube his hand and now he was stroking Peter, so impossibly smooth and warm and tight and fuck fuck fuck.

"H-How…? What- Ah… Wade…" Peter squirmed against him, panting and fighting against the waves of pleasure that were causing his hand to go limp around Wade's length, nearly forgotten.

"Always prepared, Baby Boy." His voice was rough, but Peter could still hear the grin in it. "I shoulda been a fucking boy scout." He twisted his hand just so and Peter cried, his hips jolting forward uncontrollably.

"Fuck… Fuck, Wade… Ah, fuck…" Peter chanted mindlessly, taking his hand off Wade for a moment and wrapping his fingers around his own dick, beneath Wade's, and he gasped at the sensation of both their hands there. He stroked along with Wade just a couple of times, but it was enough to make him feel the edge, just out of reach. He let go quickly and brought his hand back to Wade's cock, now slick with whatever Wade had used (probably actual lube). He wrapped his fingers tight around his shaft, biting down on his lower lip as he felt how thick it was, how his fingers could barely touch, and stroked upwards.

Wade groaned, low and heavy, and squeezed Peter tighter. After that it was a race towards the end. And Peter could hardly think about what he was doing, so consumed by the goddamn heaven that was Wade's hand on his dick, but he seemed to be doing alright. Soon Wade's other arm was shaking with the effort of holding his weight off Peter's body, and they were both making soft, helpless, wrecked noises.

And then Wade buried his face in Peter's shoulder and bit down, teeth latching on hard enough to bruise, and for an instant he was back in that alley pressed up against the wall and Wade was holding him so hard and grinding into his ass and fuck. Peter came with a cry, the waves of pleasure dragging him under with almost no warning, hot, dark release rushing through his body with enough force to arch his back off the ground. Wade handled him through it, somehow adjusting his grip and pace to be exactly what Peter needed, drawing his pleasure out for several long, incredible moments.

When he came back into his body enough to remember his own name (or at least Wade's), he could hear and feel Wade moaning into his shoulder, teeth still gripping tightly. Peter gasped as aftershocks of arousal shot through his over-sensitive body, his fingers tightening back around Wade's length. He stroked up once, twice, his thumb swiping over Wade's head, and then Wade tipped over the edge with a short whimper, hand flying from Peter's cock to grab roughly at his hip, holding on. Peter bit down on his lower lip, choking back the whine crawling up his throat as he felt Wade's hot release spilling over his fingers.

"Oh god… fuck… Wade…" He panted incoherently, going limp against the ground as Wade rolled off him and immediately pulled the boy into his arms. "Shit…"

Wade laughed breathlessly, shifting slightly as he tucked them both back into their pants and arranged them into a comfortable position before settling down, Peter's head cradled against his neck. "Yeah…" He agreed, arms coiling tight around Peter's waist to hold him close.

Peter sighed deeply, completely contented, and relaxed against Wade with a smile. He was so… Just so… Happy. "Wade." He whispered, squirming closer.

"Yeah, Baby Boy?" Wade's fingers spread over his hip, possessive and warm and perfect. He sounded like he was in the same place; soft and content and just… Happy.

"I…" Peter stopped himself, heart skipping a beat as he cut off the words at the last moment. He swallowed. "Thanks."

Wade chuckled, low and warm, and Peter wanted to stay here forever. "Thank you, Spidey. I haven't felt this good in… Yeah, I know. Fuck. Years."

And that, more than anything else, made Peter's heart soar.

They were quiet for a moment. Content. "You're like my vampire boyfriend." Peter whispered before he could stop himself.

"What's that now?"

Peter blushed, but it was too late to take it back. "You know… Because you're immortal and super strong and dangerous and stuff." He hoped Wade didn't fixate on the 'boyfriend' part, because he didn't want to assume… Thankfully, he seemed to be taken in by the vampire part.

Wade gasped. "Oh em gee I'm Edward Cullen! Does that make you Bella?" Peter made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat and could feel Wade nodding above him. "Yeah, you're right. She always kind of annoyed me. Like cool that you're not a girly girl princess, but I still want to pull your hair and kick you in the shin sometimes. Oh! I know. You can be Edward, because he's yummy and smart and all that, and I'll be Emmet 'cause he's the strong one. Or should I be Jasper because he's secretly a way better fighter?"

Peter huffed out an amused sigh and flailed one arm up, trying to cover Wade's mouth with his hand. "Shut. Up. You know way too much about Twilight."

"You take that back! There is no such thing as too much Twilight. And we didn't decide who I should be!"

Peter flung his arm over Wade's chest and pulled himself closer, half laying on the mercenary now. "It doesn't matter. I just want you to be Wade, anyway."

Wade fell silent at that, and Peter could practically hear the boxes arguing in his head. After a while, he muttered under his breath. "Yeah… Edward did the right thing in chapter three. But I'm more selfish than him."

"Sh…" Peter hushed him, because talking to the boxes never seemed to lead anywhere good. Wade fell silent and started petting Peter's side, slow and gentle, and Peter was glad to know where his attention was focused.

They lay like that for a few minutes, long enough for Peter to remember what they were supposed to be doing right now. They'd almost certainly run out of time for more fighting practice. He disentangled himself from Wade's arms with a gentle sigh and sat up. "Patrol?"

"Sure, little spider. Gotta go catch the baddies in your spider webs of love and justice." Wade sat up too, ignoring Peter's snort of amusement as he extended his arms above his head in a luxurious stretch. Peter stared unashamedly, but silently scolded himself for the twitch of interest in his cock as his eyes roamed over all those glorious muscles. Now was not the time.

Wade noticed him looking, and he had a lecherous grin on his face as he rolled onto his knees and stretched like a cat, back arching obscenely and emphasizing all those rippling muscles beneath his skin-tight suit. Peter had to swallow against the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth, and to his intense embarrassment, his stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly.

Wade burst into laughter, dropping the act as he rolled back into a sitting position, clutching at his stomach with one hand and waving the other at Peter is if telling him to stop being so funny. "Oh, man… That was too perfect… Fuck yeah, Yellow… Christ."

Peter sighed, but he was fighting not to smile as he grabbed his glove from nearby and climbed to his feet as he slipped it back on. He brushed himself off and cringed as his hands ran over the wet spots they'd left on his suit. Well, it would be easier to clean than blood, so… "That wasn't about you." He protested, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at Wade, who was still laughing. "All I ate for dinner was a banana."

Wade stopped laughing abruptly and leapt to his feet, almost startling Peter. "Jesus, Baby Boy, we need to get some food in you! Spiders need to eat! Don't they eat, like three times their body weight or something?"

"For the last time, Wade, I don't eat like a spider. God." Peter rolled his eyes as Wade bent down to grab his belt and fasten it back into place. He'd replaced his glove at some point, too. "And even if I did, your argument would be invalid. Spiders can go without food for months at a time."

Wade offered him a blinding grin. "You're so smart, Spidey." He turned and walked over to his pile of weapons, which he began placing back on his body, quick and efficient. "But we're still going to feed you. Can't have your fuel tank running low, even if you are a Ferrari. Hell, especially when you're a Ferrari."

Peter rolled his eyes again at the silly metaphor, but to be honest, food did sound really good right now… No. He shook his head. "We need to patrol." He reminded Wade.

Wade swung around to face him, slipping his katanas onto his back. "You need to eat." He insisted. It sounded like a command, hard and unyielding, and Peter melted just a little at the sound of it, breath catching. He couldn't argue with that, could he? Wade softened, stepping closer to lay his hands on Peter's shoulders. "Tell you what. We can keep an eye out for crime on the way to the Mexican restaurant, and while we eat on the roof of the Mexican restaurant, and in any of the time we have left after we've filled that little spider tummy and left the Mexican restaurant, okay?"

Peter smiled slightly. "So I guess we're having Mexican, huh?"

Wade grinned. "Always, Baby Boy."

They didn't end up spotting any crime on their way to the restaurant, or during their late-night dinner. Peter listened hard for any sounds of distress or violence all the way there, but he hadn't heard anything. And if he got a little distracted while they ate tacos and chimichangas, because Wade kept making him laugh with his crazy stories and outrageous rants and he was just enjoying himself too much, well… It was only one night. And one night off never hurt anyone, did it?

He left Wade with a lingering kiss, which he would have done even if Wade hadn't been singing "kiss me hard before you go." He was surprised at the way his chest felt tight and empty all at once as he swung away from the red and black figure standing on the roof of the Mexican restaurant. He made sure Aunt May got home safe and slipped into his bedroom window with enough time to scan the apartment and take his suit off to pretend to be asleep before she checked on him. He texted Deadpool's number to tell him he got home safe, and smiled when Wade responded with thirteen heart emoji's, one tiger, and a pair of scissors.

When he fell asleep, his dreams were filled with Wade.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The next morning, Peter actually got up early. He was nervous for his meeting with Harry, his stomach in knots as soon as he woke up, fifteen minutes before his alarm was due to go off. Too anxious to go back to sleep, he got out of bed and showered, trying not to think too hard about what he was about to do.

He didn't want to hurt Harry. He really didn't. Even if he'd been distracted lately, by Spider-Man and his internship and Wade (Wade most of all), he still cared about Harry. They'd been best friends for almost a year, and while that didn't seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things, it had meant a lot to Peter. Harry meant a lot to him. They'd grown close almost instantly, a chemistry springing up between them that made very little sense but somehow worked beautifully, and the last thing Peter wanted to do was lose that. He'd always felt like Harry had given him a gift, even more valuable and outlandishly wonderful than the laptop he'd purchased for Peter's birthday, just by being the Sophomore's friend. It was an uneven relationship, because Harry clearly had much more to offer Peter than Peter could ever hope to give him in return. And he felt guilty that thiswas how he was going to repay Harry for everything he'd done for him… By breaking up with him.

That's what it was, even if they hadn't been dating in the first place. Peter knew what Harry wanted, and it killed him just a little bit that he couldn't give his friend the relationship he desired. If he'd never met Wade, maybe… But he had. And things couldn't go on like this anymore.

So Peter was sitting in MJ's dad's diner ten minutes before he was due to meet Harry, nervously fiddling with a menu and trying not to think of all the possible ways Harry could react. He wasn't sure which would be worse: if Harry was hurt and angry and didn't want to be friends anymore, or if he was kind and understanding and continued to be just as generous to Peter as he always had been. He wasn't sure he'd be able to live with the guilt of that, but it was better than losing his friend entirely, right?

He knew MJ wouldn't come around to interrupt them. She was definitely not a morning person, and as such she never woke up before the latest possible moment necessary to get ready for school. So they'd be alone in this, for better or worse.

The minutes ticked by until it was 7am on the dot, and Peter watched the door like a hawk. But Harry didn't show. By 7:02, Peter was getting nervous. Harry was almost never late for stuff (class aside, because he wasn't a big fan of school). Was he avoiding Peter on purpose? He got out his phone and checked his notifications, but there was nothing new. He was on the verge of calling his friend to ask where he was when Harry finally walked in at 7:08.

He crossed the diner quickly to their booth in the back and slid into the seat across from Peter, eyes hidden under dark sunglasses and a baseball cap. Harry never wore baseball caps. Was he hiding from someone? Peter peered carefully outside the front windows of the diner, looking for any sign that Harry had been followed. "You're late." He commented, tone harsher than he intended. He tried to sound softer, more relaxed. "You okay?"

Harry grabbed a menu and kept his head down, scanning the options even though he always got the same thing. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. My normal driver called in sick today and the new guy didn't know how to get here. It was a mess."

"Oh." Peter nodded slightly. "Is he okay?"

"Huh?" Harry glanced up, only to look back down again almost immediately.

Peter frowned. "Your driver. Is he really sick? Or is it just the flu or something?"

The Oscorp heir shrugged carelessly. "No idea."

Peter stared at him, confused by his friend's behavior. Harry wasn't usually so… harsh. His normal finesse and easy grace were missing this morning, and he sat hunched over his menu, hardly even looking at Peter. "Why didn't you drive yourself?" He asked, suddenly suspicious.

Harry shifted in what looked like discomfort. "My car is, uh, in the shop. It was making weird sounds when I drove it yesterday."

"You have like three cars, Harry. Why didn't you drive a different one?"

Harry made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and practically threw down his menu. "I don't know! I just didn't. God. I'm sorry I'm fucking late."

Peter stared at him in shock, hurt and surprise flickering over his features. "What—"

He was interrupted before he could finish his question, the usual morning waitress coming up to greet them and ask for their orders. She smiled a lot at Harry, like she usually did, but he ignored her, not even looking at her as he mumbled his order.

When she finally left, Peter leaned across the table towards his friend, intent on figuring out why he was acting so strangely. "What's with the hat and glasses, Harry?" He asked, figuring that it must have something to do with why he was acting so irritable and shifty.

Harry cringed backwards and kept his gaze on the table. "Nothing. I just… wanted to wear them." It was a weak excuse. He didn't even sound like he believed it himself.

"It's not even bright outside. Take them off." Peter ordered. Harry shook his head mutely, and Peter got a strange sinking sensation in his stomach. What the hell was he trying to hide? "Harry…" His tone carried a warning. He wasn't going to let this go.

Harry sighed heavily and, after a moment of hesitation, reached up, removing the hat first and setting it on the table. Peter watched as he reached for the glasses next, gaze still glued to the tabletop as he slowly slid them off.

Peter gasped, his eyes going wide when he could finally see Harry's whole face. His left eye was swollen partially shut, the skin around it almost black with a dark, vicious bruise that spread down over his cheekbone. When Peter looked closer, he could see a red spot on Harry's lip where it had clearly been split open.

"Oh my god. Harry!" He slid out of his seat and moved to Harry's side, taking hold of the older boy's chin and tilting his face up to look more closely. "What the hell happened to you?" He'd taken a beating, clearly. And a bad one at that, if the color and spread of the bruising was any indication.

Harry grunted and turned his head away, breaking out of Peter's grip. "Nothing, I… I, um, got mugged. Last night."

Peter swallowed, anger and guilt and horror warring for dominance in his chest. He should have been out there patrolling last night. He should have stopped this. Instead he'd been fucking around with his maybe-boyfriend and having a good time, no regard for the people who were getting hurt while he was shirking his duty as Spider-Man. "Where?" He asked, voice choked. "Why were you out somewhere you could get mugged?"

Harry's hands gripped restlessly at the edge of his shirt, almost nervously. "Just, um… I was out… I was, well, picking up… I needed to get… Food. I was picking up food and I'd parked… I parked somewhere else and I had to walk." Peter's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at Harry's poor, battered face, taking in the anxious expression and unfocused gaze. If he listened, he could hear Harry's heart pounding in his chest. He was… Afraid. Why would he be afraid now? Telling Peter that he'd been mugged? Why had he tried to hide it in the first place?

"Harry." Peter whispered, reaching out and taking hold of Harry's hand, cradling it between his own. "Tell me what really happened. Please."

Harry swallowed hard, and Peter could feel his hand shaking slightly in his grip. It sent a thrill of fear through him, seeing his usually unshakeable friend so on edge. "It was… I was just mugged." He repeated helplessly.

Peter lifted the hand he held to his lips and pressed a kiss into the back of it. "You're usually a great liar, Hare." He said quietly. "But you're doing a terrible job right now."

Harry let out a weak huff of a laugh and seemed to relax slightly, sitting back in the cushioned booth and letting his shoulder rest against Peter's. "It's… It's not that big a deal, okay? I don't want you to freak out."

Peter frowned, but nodded. "Okay."

Harry took a shaky breath. "I haven't been seeing much of my dad lately, and last night… He came home for just a minute, to shower and pick up clothes or something. He's been sleeping at the office. Or working, because I don't think he's been sleeping much. Anyway I… I confronted him about it. Told him he should see a doctor because he's been acting really… Well… And he, um…"

Peter's jaw dropped open, horrified. "Your dad did this?" He asked incredulously, anger rearing its ugly head in his chest.

Harry flinched slightly. "Keep your voice down. He… He's sick. He hasn't been himself lately. I don't think he meant to…"

Peter shook his head emphatically. "No. Don't make excuses for him. God, I can't believe…" This was awful. How could Norman have done this to his own son? He'd always been cold and distant, and frankly a bit creepy, but abusive? Peter had never gotten that vibe from him. And as far as he knew, this was the first time it had ever happened. "Harry, I'm so sorry." He pulled his friend into a hug, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders and holding him tightly. Harry breathed out heavily and buried his face in Peter's hair, returning the embrace.

"It's fine." He muttered, breath warm against Peter's head. "I'm fine. No big deal, okay?"

Peter felt his throat getting tight, tears rising to his eyes even as he tried to blink them away. Somehow Harry had ended up comforting him. He was such a good… He was just so… He was Harry. And he was hurting right now. And Peter's heart would fucking break if he had to hurt him any more. He couldn't do it. Not today. Just… Not today.

He finally pulled away with a sniffle, wiping hurriedly under his eyes and hoping his tears hadn't been too conspicuous. "Do you need to come stay with me? I'm sure Aunt May would take you in. She loves you." He didn't spare a thought to the trouble it would cause Spider-Man, having someone else living with him. He just wanted to make sure Harry was okay; save him from whatever fucked up situation he'd landed in.

Harry smiled indulgently, a warm glow entering his eyes as he reached up to ruffle Peter's hair. "That's sweet of you, Petey, but I'm okay. It's really not a big deal. And besides, you know my place is huge. I'll have no trouble avoiding him until he's more… Himself, again." Peter frowned, and opened his mouth to protest, to insist, to something, but Harry cut him off. "Really. I'm fine. I promise, okay?"

Peter sighed, dropping his head onto Harry's shoulder. "Okay…" He conceded reluctantly. "But if it happens again, I swear to god I will kidnap you and keep you in my closet."

He could feel Harry smiling into his hair. "I think I can live with that." He murmured, his arms still wrapped around Peter's shoulders. He didn't let go until the waitress returned with their food. "You know." He spoke around a mouthful of French toast a minute later. "If you wanted to make me feel better, kiss my bruises and all that, you could come over tonight?"

Peter frowned, taking his time chewing a bite of toast so he could formulate some excuse. Harry took advantage of his silence to make his case. "I know you're busy. But I miss you. And it would be nice, you know, to have someone else around… Just for tonight." That rare, delicate vulnerability that Harry only ever seemed to show around him was breaking through the cracks in his words.

Peter looked at Harry, his heart clenching. If it would make him feel better, then there wasn't really a way he could say no, was there? And maybe this was a good thing. Like… One last night together. A sort of goodbye in case Harry didn't want to be friends after Peter ended whatever was going on between them. The thought made his throat feel tight. Yeah, one more night would be okay. For Harry. "Alright." He said with a small smile.

Harry's responding grin was almost blinding in its relieved pleasure. "Cool. We can watch a movie and order whatever we want for dinner! Oh, and do homework too, of course. That's important."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah. It is."

He never told Harry what he'd wanted to talk about, and Harry never asked.

Tomorrow, Peter told himself. Tomorrow he would.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He texted Deadpool during his first class, telling him that something had come up and they'd need to meet later than usual that night. He offered midnight as a tentative meet-up time. Then he let Aunt May know about his plans and made sure she was working the night shift tonight, making a note to follow her home at six in the morning. It didn't look like he'd get much sleep, but that was fine. When had sleep ever been a priority? Spiders didn't need sleep, right? Right.

At lunch, when MJ freaked out over Harry's face, Harry lied so smoothly about it that Peter couldn't help but be surprised. He was so convincing, telling MJ this story about two drunk guys who tried to steal his car while it was parked outside Mercy Hospital last night, where he'd been running an errand for Oscorp. He recounted in such detail how he'd walked up while they were trying to jimmy the lock, and one of them punched Harry, hard enough to knock him down. But then they'd run away because they were drunk and scared and probably not real criminals anyway. MJ was absolutely scandalized about it. Peter was stunned, wondering how Harry could manage this when he'd been so… Broken up, this morning. Was it because he couldn't lie to Peter? Or didn't want to? Or would Peter have been hearing this same story if Harry had had more time to prepare it before they met?

It left him with an unsettled feeling in his stomach, but he tried to forget about it by the time the end of school rolled around. Harry was completely back to normal as he drove them home, listening to music and chattering on about office drama and deciding between Columbia and Harvard. He'd been accepted to both (admittedly probably just due to his name and his father's position, because he had never gotten the highest marks in school), and he had to turn in a decision by next week. He was leaning towards Columbia, so he could stay in the city. Peter nodded along, but didn't express an opinion one way or the other; all he said was that they were both great schools.

A few weeks ago, he would have given anything to have his best friend stay in New York for the next four years. But now, especially with whatever was going on with his father, Peter wasn't entirely unconvinced that it might be a good idea for Harry to move away for a while, take a break from all the Oscorp exec-training and dealing with his dad. But at the same time, Peter couldn't help wondering if he only felt that way because he unconsciously wanted to get some distance from Harry, to make his own love life that much simpler. It was selfish and wrong if those were his motivations, and he tried not to feel too guilty about it. He wasn't telling Harry what to do one way or another; that should be his decision.

Harry insisted that they work on homework as soon as they got to his penthouse, so they could watch a movie later. Peter was happy to comply, even if he didn't have much that was actually due tomorrow. It was always nice to get ahead and take some pressure off his tight schedule for a few days. So they sat on one of the Osborn's luxurious leather couches and Peter worked on a chemistry lab while Harry struggled through his English paper (which was a day late, but Harry always managed to get extensions from his teachers). Peter, feeling a bit nostalgic at the possibility of this being the last time they hung out so freely, even offered to proofread Harry's work and let the older boy wrap his arm around his shoulders as he did so.

It was nice. It was just them, being friends, hanging out like they used to, and it made Peter ache just a little. But he smiled through it and tried to just enjoy their time together. They ordered pizza for dinner, because what sort of teenage boys would they be if they chose to eat anything else during a sleepover? They gorged themselves, of course, and were discussing whether they should watch the original Blade Runner or re-watch The Hangover 2 while they cleaned up after themselves.

Harry was putting their dishes in the sink while Peter leaned against the counter, listing off the sociopolitical ramifications of the original release of Blade Runner in 1982, when Norman walked in.

He froze by the stainless-steel refrigerator, tucking something into his pocket when he noticed the boys in the kitchen. Peter immediately stepped between Harry and his father, his hands instinctively clenching into fists at the sight of the man who had hurt his friend. Norman stared at him, and the moment Peter's eyes met that pale, cold gaze, an alarming shock of fear ran down his spine. He swallowed, fingers inching towards the web shooters hidden beneath his jacket sleeves, heart stuttering into a faster pace as his body registered the feeling that he was in danger.

It wasn't a feeling he'd gotten from Norman Osborn before, no matter how creepy or cold the man seemed. Peter's eyes roamed over his face, noticing that he'd changed. It wasn't just his gaze, which now glittered manically with a sharp edge that had never been there before. His face looked gaunt, cheeks sunken in as if he'd lost weight, and he was unshaven, which was highly unusual for the billionaire businessman. He still stood tall and intimidating, still wore the expensive suit pressed to perfection, but there was a tension in the lines of his body that made him seem off kilter. Dangerous. Not himself. Seeing him like this, Peter could believe that Harry was right in saying the man was sick.

Harry eased himself in front of Peter, breaking the extended eye contact between them, and slipped his hands into his pockets, radiating a calmness that Peter couldn't believe given the situation. "Hey, dad. I didn't think you'd be home."

Norman seemed reluctant to shift his eyes from Peter, to focus instead on his son, who still bore the terrible marks of his father's abuse, black and blue stark against the paleness of his face.

Norman just hummed noncommittedly and turned to open the fridge, taking out what looked like a homemade protein shake in a clear plastic bottle. There was a smoothness to his movements that was… Unsettling. There was silence in the room as he uncapped the bottle and took a sip, eyes flickering again to Peter, causing an uncomfortable tingle at the back of his neck.

Harry cleared his throat. "I asked Peter to stay over tonight. Is that okay?"

Norman didn't look away from Peter's face, a slow, chilling smile pulling the corners of his mouth up in an unpleasant manner. "Oh, yes. Yes, that's just fine. You're always welcome here, Peter Parker." He chuckled low in his throat, turning away from them and disappearing down the hall. As he went, his chuckling grew to laughter, the tone of it manic and uncontrollable, making the hairs on Peter's body stand on end.

He swallowed hard as the sound faded away to the other side of the large suite, perhaps even to another floor. "Oh my god." He turned to Harry. "How long has he been like that?"

Harry shrugged, avoiding Peter's eyes as he picked up a towel and started wiping nonexistent crumbs off the counter. "I don't know. It's gotten worse over the past couple weeks."

Peter frowned, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty that he hadn't come over to hang out with Harry sooner. If he'd seen what Norman was like, noticed the warning signs, maybe he could have done something. Maybe he could have saved Harry from this. "I'm so sorry." He crossed to Harry's side and wrapped his arms around the older boy's waist, pulling him into a hug. Harry returned the embrace with a soft sigh, and Peter could feel the tension bleeding out of his body.

"It's okay."

But it wasn't. "Do you know what might be causing this?" Peter asked gently, resting his forehead on Harry's shoulder.

He felt Harry shrug. "It could just be stress, overwork…" But he didn't sound very convinced of that. After a moment, he sighed again. "There's some stuff… Some projects at Oscorp. They're not… They've got him pretty worked up, and they're… Controversial."

Peter pulled back a little to look at Harry. "What do you mean?"

Harry shook his head apologetically. "I can't tell you details. Because of legal stuff. Especially since you work there, but… It's just…" Peter could tell Harry was upset about this, even if he was trying to sound calm. He had that little crease between his eyebrows that he always got when something was bothering him. "Dad's pushing really hard to move forward with this stuff. It's like he's really invested in it. Way more than normal. More than just… For business."

Peter frowned, but held himself back from doing anything other than nodding. He didn't want to push Harry about something he wasn't allowed to talk about. It sounded suspicious, though, and he could tell Harry didn't feel right about it. He'd have to look into it on his own.

Harry had fallen silent, his gaze distant and a light frown on his lips, so Peter squeezed him lightly before stepping out of their hug, grabbing Harry's hand instead. "Wanna watch that movie?" He offered with a small smile, a shameless attempt to distract Harry from his worries.

Harry didn't seem to mind. He nodded easily and smiled in return. "Yeah. We can watch Blade Runner if you want."

Peter grinned, tickled as always by Harry's generosity. "Naw. Let's do The Hangover; it'll be nice to watch something funny."

Harry agreed, and they got set up in the movie room with popcorn and soda, the whole shebang. By the end of the movie, they were cuddled up on one end of the couch, Peter settled comfortably between Harry's legs with his back to Harry's chest, held close inside the confines of Harry's arms. He knew he shouldn't be encouraging this sort of behavior, but he found himself clinging to every moment of closeness they shared, knowing that it was going to end soon.

They were both tired, and it was after eleven anyway, so they agreed to go to bed. As they stood in the hallway outside the movie room, Harry took Peter's hand, stopping him from heading towards the guest rooms. Peter looked at him questioningly.

When Harry met his gaze, his eyes were bright with that rare vulnerability, his usual mask cast aside, his heart laid bare on his face. "Will you…" His voice was soft. Peter's heart pounded in his chest. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"

Peter stood frozen for a moment, staring up into Harry's hopeful, nervous, passionate blue eyes. He knew he should say no. But if they kept it innocent, if they just wanted to be close for one last night… He couldn't turn away from that. He couldn't take that away from Harry, too. "Okay." He whispered.

Harry smiled, slow and soft and so full of… something, it made Peter's breath hitch. "Okay." He repeated. He held onto Peter's hand as he led them to his room. It was big, bigger than the guest rooms, but messier too. It was lived in, with Harry's books and CDs and a few posters on the walls. A desk covered in papers and drawings that MJ had made. On the wall above the desk was a framed photograph that Peter had taken the previous summer and given to Harry because the older boy had said he liked it. The carpet was soft and the walls were blue, the sheets grey. Next to the large bed were the comic books Peter had gotten him for his birthday a few months ago.

Harry didn't talk much, just gave Peter a pair of his sleep pants and offered to take turns getting ready in his bathroom (it was huge, attached to the room, and the shower was unreal. Peter secretly hoped he'd have time to try it out in the morning). Peter found himself sitting nervously on the edge of the bed while Harry got ready, chewing on his lip and wondering if Harry had a preferred side of the bed. He took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table, taken aback slightly at how domestic they looked sitting next to a glass of water and Harry's expensive alarm clock.

The awkwardness abated somewhat when Harry returned. He turned out the lights and easily pushed the covers aside to slide into bed across from Peter, patting the pillow next to him to indicate that Peter should lay down. He did, sighing softly as he felt how soft the sheets were and how comfortable the mattress was. Harry shifted closer and, after just a moment of hesitation, wrapped his arms around Peter, drawing him back against his chest.

Peter squirmed slightly to get comfortable, settling his head on the pillow and relaxing into the warmth of Harry's body and the soft, ticklish feeling of his breath on the back of Peter's neck.

This was okay, right?

It felt okay. Nice, even, just to be held. Harry wasn't nearly as warm as Wade, and his much thinner arms didn't make Peter feel safe and protected in the same way, but it was okay. He smelled faintly of expensive cologne and toothpaste and Harry, and it was okay.

"Goodnight." Harry murmured, the word brushing against Peter's skin like a kiss.

"Goodnight, Harry." Peter breathed back. He let his eyes slip closed, but he couldn't let himself sleep. Even if he did feel much more comfortable than he'd expected.

He relaxed and listened to Harry's breathing, waiting for it to grow slow and even as he started falling asleep. After a minute or so, though, he could feel Harry taking a deep breath against his back.

"Peter?" His voice was soft, hesitant.

"Yeah?"

There was a pause. "Thanks for staying with me." Peter swallowed against the sudden tightness in his chest.

"Of course." He breathed.

Another minute or so passed, but he couldn't hear any changes in Harry's breathing. In fact, when he listened, he could hear the older boy's heart beating fast in his chest. He heard Harry swallow.

"Peter?" His voice was barely a whisper now.

"Yeah?" Peter whispered back.

"I love you."

Peter swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He thought maybe his hands were shaking as he twisted around in Harry's arms, turning to face him. He could barely make out his face in the dark, but he could see the gentle light of his eyes. "I love you too, Hare." He breathed, throat aching with a sudden fierceness that took him by surprise.

Harry seemed to breath out a gentle, relieved sigh, tipping his head forward to rest against Peter's. Peter let them stay like that for a minute, but when his eyes were starting to burn and it felt like he might cry, he twisted back around so his back was against Harry's chest again. Harry just held him closer. He didn't talk again after that, but Peter could feel him relaxing, his heart beat slowing, his breath evening out.

Just as Harry slipped below the surface of sleep, his breath turning heavy and slow, Peter blinked and hot, salty tears spilled across his cheeks.

He waited another few minutes before carefully disentangling himself from Harry's hold, listening hard to make sure he stayed asleep as Peter slipped out of bed on silent feet. He grabbed his backpack off the floor, slipped his glasses into the front pocket, and left as quickly and as quietly as he could, making sure that no light from the hallway fell across the bed as he slipped out of the room. He made it all the way to the kitchen, where he was sure Harry couldn't hear him, before a small, ragged sob broke free of his chest.

He bent over the granite countertop and pressed his fists into his eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths as a few more broken sobs crawled their way up his throat. He didn't know why. He just felt as if this deep, gripping sense of loss had surged up out of nowhere, springing into existence and washing over him as soon as he realized how Harry really felt.

Because he would never have that. And he could never give it to Harry in return.

He got himself under control after a minute, forcing the tears to cease and burying the knot in his stomach. He couldn't deal with that right now. He couldn't deal with it ever, because it wasn't his to have. And he was going to be late.

He found his way to the nearest guest bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, then scrounged in the kitchen for paper and a pen to leave Harry a note in case he woke up before Peter got back. He just said that he couldn't sleep and had gone on a walk. Then he made his way to the elevators and let himself out, trying to shake the fog from his mind and focus on what he was doing now.

He was going to see Wade. He had chosen Wade. He needed Wade.

He walked a couple of blocks away from Harry's high scale apartment building before finding an empty alleyway and changing into his Spider-Man suit behind a dumpster.

It was close to 12:30 by the time Peter landed on their rooftop, and the sight of Wade pacing around in his Deadpool suit, chattering to himself, filled Peter with so much relief that his knees felt weak. He didn't hesitate to fling himself at Wade, not caring if he caught the mercenary by surprise when he practically leapt onto him, wrapping his arms and legs around that body, so much larger and warmer than he'd remembered, and clinging tightly.

Wade grunted in surprise, but immediately wrapped his arms around Peter in return, hardly stumbling at all. "Hey, Baby Boy. You okay?"

"Missed you." Peter mumbled truthfully into Wade's shoulder, taking deep breaths and feeling the tension draining out of him.

Wade rubbed a hand in slow circles across Peter's lower back, calming him down even more. "Bad day?" He asked sympathetically.

Peter nodded into Wade's shoulder.

"Does it have to do with that thing that came up tonight?" Wade's tone was careful as he asked, as if he were wary of overstepping his bounds, and Peter clutched him tighter. He wanted to tell Wade everything.

"Yeah." He breathed. "My friend… He got hurt."

Wade just held him even closer, arms tightening around Peter with a strength that made him feel like he'd be safe forever. "Is he okay?"

Peter nodded again, grateful and amazed and so fucking in love with Wade because that's what he asked. Not what happened, or why Peter had to stay with him. He just wanted to make sure Spider-Man's friend was okay. "Thanks, Wade." Peter whispered.

"What for, Baby Boy?" Wade sounded surprised.

Peter pulled back slightly, unwrapping his legs from around Wade's waist and sliding down until his toes touched the ground so he could look into Deadpool's eye patches. "Thanks for worrying about me. And… And taking care of me. Spending so much time with me. I hope… I hope I haven't taken up too much of your time…" Not that he would rather Deadpool spend his time taking hits and killing people for money. But he didn't want to be a burden.

Wade shook his head emphatically, keeping his arms wrapped around Peter's waist and holding him close. "No no no, Spidey. Absolutely not. I wantto take care of you. Fuck, I…" Wade cut himself off, ducking his head for a moment to hiss viciously under his breath. "No, White. Shut your fucking mouth. We do." He turned back to Peter with a soft sigh. "I'll always worry about that beautiful ass of yours, Baby Boy."

Peter couldn't help but grin, something light and joyful unfurling in his chest. He started to reach up for Wade's mask, wanting nothing more than to kiss him right that moment, but a faint sound from somewhere far away made him freeze.

He cocked his head to the side, trying to listen harder. Something had caught his attention. Something out of place. If he could just… Ah, there! Peter stiffened, his blood running cold as some primal part of him recognized the sound before he fully registered what it was.

"What's wrong?" Wade asked with concern, observant as ever.

Peter swallowed, fighting against a shudder that threatened to run down his spine. "I don't…" There it was again. And with a rush of panic, Peter realized what it was. "He's back." He breathed, hesitating for only a heartbeat before he pulled away from Deadpool and started towards the edge of the roof, ready to chase down the source of that chilling mechanical laughter.

"Wait!" Wade grabbed his wrist, stopping him before he could jump over the edge and swing away. "You're not going on your own." His tone was threatening, demanding, leaving no room for disagreement. "I won't let you."

Peter hesitated, a selfish part of him wanting to leave Wade behind to make sure he wouldn't get hurt. But Peter's rational side realized that was stupid. Wade couldn't die. And Spider-Man wasn't a self-sacrificing idiot who would walk into certain death just because he refused to get anyone else involved. Well… He might be, but not with Wade. Not right now. Not when he knew Deadpool wouldn't hesitate to knock him out just to keep him from going off on his own and putting himself in danger.

"Okay." Peter decided quickly, wrapping one arm around Wade's waist. "Hold on to me." He led them to the ledge and shot a web, heart pounding. It was harder to swing while holding onto a man that was six inches taller than him and probably a hundred pounds heavier. He wasn't traveling as quickly as he liked, but the periodic peels of unnatural laughter sounded like they were getting closer. He realized he was heading into Queens, and his stomach sank.

Of course. The Goblin knew where he lived.

When he knew he couldn't be more than a block away, he landed in front of a convenience store just two streets over from his apartment building and dropped Wade off. "Can't be hindered when I engage him." He said shortly, too stressed to try to put it delicately, feeling the urgency of the situation. Wade seemed to understand. Peter grabbed Deadpool by his katanas straps and pulled him down so their faces were almost touching. "No. Killing." He said firmly.

Deadpool hesitated, but nodded stiffly after a moment. Peter wasn't sure he believed that Wade would hold back if it came down to it, but he hoped that Spider-Man's urgings would be enough to make him reluctant to take the kill shot.

Peter swallowed, shoving back the panic that was churning in his stomach, and pressed a short, hard kiss onto Wade's mouth through their masks.

He pulled away quickly and shot another web, swinging around the corner before Wade could say anything.

He needed to take care of this. It needed to end tonight.

Since it was the middle of the night in Queens rather than Manhattan, there wasn't anyone around. Peter counted his lucky stars that no bystanders would get hurt by accident. And there he was, just a couple of blocks from Peter's apartment, hovering above the street like some massive, deadly insect. Peter landed on the side of a building halfway down the block, knowing he didn't have long before the Goblin knew he was there.

As Peter watched, the Green Goblin shot something off the front of his hover sled and the sandwich shop across the street exploded in a burst of flame. A fresh peal of maniacal laughter filled the air. Peter's mouth flooded with the bitter taste of fear and anger, eyes flickering to two other ground-level shops that were already aflame, glass and other debris blown out onto the street. At this rate, there would be a civilian crowd. And soon. Not to mention firefighters and other emergency personnel. Peter needed to get the Goblin away from here so no one would get caught in the crossfire.

Wade had caught up to him and was standing on the street below, katanas already drawn. Peter jumped down and landed beside him, feeling a small surge of pleasure somewhere deep beneath the panic and anger when Wade didn't flinch at all. "Make sure no one's in those buildings, okay? Evacuate anyone staying where the fire might spread." Wade turned his head to stare at Peter, and it was clear he was going to protest, but Peter didn't give him the chance. "Please. I need to know everyone's safe." He shot another web and took off, not wanting to give the Goblin time to blow up any more businesses. Or, god forbid, someone's apartment.

"Hey, Green Giant!" Spider-Man called out with more confidence than he felt, grabbing the villain's attention as he landed on a nearby rooftop. "Aren't you supposed to be growing beans or something? I mean, this new hobby of yours doesn't seem very nurturing. Are they gonna let you keep your job at the vegetable farm?"

The Green Goblin's response was nothing more than a dark, metallic chuckle that made Peter's skin crawl. He rose to Peter's level, twirling a bat-shaped throwing knife between his fingers. "Itsy. Bitsy. Spider." He almost purred the words, voice on the sharp edge of laughter. "What a lovely surprise. Oh- But you live around here, don't you?"

Peter's stomach sank at the confirmation that this location was no coincidence. He didn't waste any more time, not wanting to give the Goblin a chance to unmask him or take off towards his building. And thank god Aunt May wasn't home right now. He shot a web at the Goblin's sled, hoping he could end this quickly, but the villain swerved out of the way with stunning speed.

"Oh no no, little spider. That's not very nice. Have you never been taught proper manners?" He threw the knife, followed by several more, and Peter dodged them all, aided by his Spidey sense. The Goblin just laughed, having expected as much. He began to fly in dizzying circles above Peter's head, and Peter did his best to land a web on the hover sled but the Goblin always seemed to be a half second ahead of him.

"I always wondered why Spider-Man's only weapon is some harmless webbing." He called down. "But now I know. It's because you're a good little high school boy, isn't it, Peter Parker?" Peter's breath caught, and his next web missed the Goblin by at least three feet. He glanced reflexively down towards the street, where he could see Wade ushering some people out of one of the burning buildings. It looked like he was too far away to hear what was being said.

The Goblin took advantage of his momentary distraction, sweeping down in an instant and grabbing Peter by his biceps before he could duck out of the way. His face, a mask out of some nightmare with large yellow eyes and a distended grin, pressed close to Peter's. "Your boyfriend doesn't know who you are, hm?" His voice was filled with a perverse glee. "Oh, that's so… Ironic."

Peter panicked, cursing himself for allowing the Goblin to get his hands on him, for letting his concern about his identity compromise his focus. He struggled against the Goblin's hold, and when his arms remained pinned to his side, he kicked out, not holding back this time.

The Goblin grunted, jerking backwards slightly, but kept his hold on Peter. Encouraged by the knowledge that he could hurt this superhuman villain, Peter struggled harder. He kicked out again, and again, and tore one arm out of the Goblin's hold. Then he punched him, aiming for his neck because it looked like the mask doubled as a helmet of some sort and Peter didn't want to break his hand. The Goblin turned so he hit his shoulder instead.

It was a messy struggle, Green Goblin using his strength and reflexes to hold onto Peter and Peter doing everything he could to knock him down. After the Goblin got in a good punch right across Peter's left cheek, making his head spin, Peter shot a web at the mask's eyes. With the Goblin momentarily blinded, he was able to tear his other arm free. He raised his foot and kicked, hard, finally knocking the villain off his hover sled.

The Goblin fell to the ground, tearing at the webbing on his face, and Peter didn't hesitate to leap after him, immediately shooting more webs to pin him to the rooftop. But the Goblin rolled away, faster than Peter thought possible, and was on his feet again in an instant. "No, no, no. Absolutely not. Unacceptable behavior, Mr. Parker. I'm very disappointed in you." He sounded angry beneath the false light tone he was putting on.

Not wanting to miss this opportunity, Peter didn't hesitate to engage the Goblin again, hoping he could subdue him now that he was off his sled. He'd managed to pin Deadpool down, and that was without his webs.

But the Green Goblin was faster than Deadpool. He dodged everything Peter threw at him and was landing hits on Spider-Man, hard ones that were sure to leave bruises. Peter got in one lucky kick to the villain's stomach, sending him stumbling back, and the Goblin growled.

"Enough." His voice had lost all of its amusement, and the sound of it sent a sharp tingle down Peter's spine. "I'm done playing around, stupid spider." He was on Peter in an instant. Peter struggled again, not willing to let the Goblin get a good grip on him, but all of a sudden a sharp burst of pain tore through Peter's body.

He convulsed, limbs going weak as his muscles clenched and unclenched, and the Goblin threw him to the ground, pinning him there. The pain ended, but Peter felt weak and out of focus, and when he tried to push against the Goblin's hold it felt like his muscles were too fatigued to work as they normally did.

Electrocuted, his brain supplied for him. God, how had he forgotten about that?

The Goblin leaned over him, pressing his terrifying face close to Peter's again, and Peter tried to flinch away. But the villain wrapped his fingers around Peter's neck and shook him, slamming Peter's head against the ground and forcing him to meet his eyes. "You've been under my nose this whole time, Peter Parker." He hissed. "So clever of you. So… sneaky. Such a sneaky spider. Well… Even sneaky spiders get squashed eventually."

He started to squeeze, cutting off Peter's air supply, and the dazed cloud in Peter's head dissipated all at once. He went tense, adrenalin flooding his muscles with the energy to fight back, and kicked uselessly at the open air beneath him. He grabbed the Goblin's wrist and tried to tear him off, but his grip was too tight. He was too strong.

As Peter's chest was starting to feel tight, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen, the Goblin released, just a little, just enough for Peter to gasp one shallow, desperate breath of air.

"Don't worry." He chuckled dangerously. "I'm not done with you yet, Spider-Boy." His chuckle grew into a laugh that made Peter struggle even harder, real fear clenching at his heart. He leaned in closer, mechanical voice almost an intimate murmur in Peter's ear. "Say hello to your dear little friends for me, will you? The lovely Mary Jane Watson and Harry Osborn. I hear they quite adore you."

Peter went pale with dread. With a huge surge of panicked anger, he drew both his legs up and managed to leverage them against the Goblin's chest, kicking him away. "Leave them the fuck alone!" He yelled, voice hoarse with damage and fear.

The Goblin just laughed. Before Peter could rush at him, pin him down and beat him until there was no way he could ever hurt MJ or Harry, gunshots started ringing through the air, making Peter flinch away from the deafening sound. Wade must have climbed the fire escape, and he was striding across the roof towards them, firing shot after shot at the Goblin, deadly fury rolling off of his body in waves.

The Goblin growled in anger, but the bullets seemed to be bouncing off the plates of his suit, denting it badly but otherwise leaving him unharmed. Peter was sure Wade could find a way around that, but before he could try the Goblin was leaping on his hover sled and taking to the air, almost instantly moving out of their reach.

"Control your attack dog, Spider-Man." He called out behind him, already speeding down the street. "Otherwise I might decide to pay your friends an early visit!" His voice was fading fast.

Wade raised his gun again, taking a moment to line up a shot, but Peter quickly grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"I wasn't taking kill shots." Wade assured him, voice tight with pent up tension and anger. Peter shook his head. It didn't matter.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked roughly, craning his head to see onto the street below. The Goblin was gone, and Peter was sure he wouldn't come back tonight. He'd accomplished what he'd come to do; scaring the hell out of Peter Parker. It looked like everyone was fine. There was a small crowd milling about in the street, and as he watched, two firetrucks pulled up, sirens blaring. The noise would undoubtedly attract more people.

"Yeah." Wade answered superfluously, voice softer than before. He reached out for Peter's arm and Peter flinched.

Wade froze, hand extended, and Peter immediately felt guilt settling in his stomach. "Sorry! I'm sorry, I just…"

Wade shook his head, reaching out again to gently pull Peter into his arms. "It's okay. It's okay, Spidey."

Peter took a deep, shaky breath and buried his head in Wade's chest, whimpering slightly when the movement sent a jolt of dull pain through his nose. Wade pulled back slightly, raising a hand to curl his fingers under Peter's chin and lift his face. "Are you hurt?"

Peter swallowed thickly. "Just my nose, I think." His throat felt sore and his head ached, too, but he didn't want Wade to worry.

Wade didn't try to lift his mask, and for that Peter was grateful. "Let's get you cleaned up." He said softly, wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulders and leading him to the fire escape on the far side of the roof, where they could climb to the ground unseen by the crowd below.

Peter felt a little out of it as he followed Wade to one of his safe houses, stopping at a run-down building only a few blocks from where they'd started. At some point, it had started raining lightly. His thoughts felt cloudy, although his heart was still pounding like he was in the middle of a fight. It was a strange and uncomfortable combination.

Wade was silent except for a few muttered 'yes' and 'no' and 'shut up' responses to whatever was going on in his head. He led Peter up the stairs and unlocked the door to an apartment on the third floor, stepping back to let Peter in first.

It was cleaner than the other apartment that Peter had been to, that time they played Mario Cart. It looked empty and unlived in. Wade sat him down on the threadbare couch in the living room and left Peter to stare down at his hands, sitting limply in his lap.

He'd let the Goblin go again. He'd lost. Again.

He'd failed and now MJ and Harry were in danger. Because of him.

He felt the panic welling up, bringing tears to his eyes. His hands were shaking.

Before he could break down, before the sobs that were building in his chest could crawl up his throat, Wade came back. He sat down next to Peter and took his arms, gently turning the teenager to face him. Peter's gaze latched onto the white patches covering Wade's eyes, and he stared through his mask, wishing he could see them. Wade reached up slowly and tenderly rolled Spider-Man's mask up until it rested on the bridge of his nose. Then he produced a washcloth and began to carefully, ever so softly, clean Peter's skin. The cloth was warm and damp, and Peter didn't even realize he'd been bleeding until he saw the red stains on the washcloth from the corner of his eye.

Wade worked intently for a minute or so, all of his attention focused on wiping the blood away as gently as possible. Peter's nose didn't hurt once. Finally, he drew the cloth away and set it down beside them. His other hand had landed in Peter's lap at some point, and their fingers were tangled together. It was quiet except for the faint sound of rain and the slow, steady sound of Wade breathing. Peter realized that he'd unconsciously synced his breath to Wade's, and the slow inhales and exhales had brought his racing heart back to a calmer pace.

The knot of terror and guilt in Peter's chest had faded away to nothing. Even if he looked for it, while Wade was here, with him, he couldn't find it. He was just… Numb.

Peter delicately disentangled his hands from Wade's and found the edge of the mercenary's mask with his fingers. He rolled it up and slid his hands down to wrap gingerly around the back of Wade's neck, staring at his mouth for a few quiet moments before leaning in.

The kiss was sweet and soft and so careful it made Peter's head spin. Wade's arms wound around his waist and cradled him closer, his touch so gentle that Peter didn't feel a single one of his bruises.

After a minute, when Peter felt like he might melt into Wade's body and never leave if they kept on like this, he pulled back and let his forehead rest against Wade's. Their breathing was still slow, and Peter made sure that the rhythm fell into synchronization again. They stayed there for a while, just like that. And Wade was so warm. And Peter felt so safe.

Despite everything, Wade made him feel safe.

"Wade." He whispered, fingers tightening slightly at the back of his neck.

"Hm?" Wade hummed softly, and Peter wondered if he had his eyes closed.

"I want to tell you who I am."

Wade was still for a moment before slowly pulling back, and Peter knew that he was searching Spidey's face.

"I want to tell you who I am." He repeated. "And you might be mad, but I… I want you to know."

Wade was shaking his head. "No."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed in confusing, a small frown turning down the corners of his mouth. "No?"

"No." Wade raised one hand to cup Peter's face, his thumb stroking lightly over his jaw. "I don't want you to tell me who you are because you're scared. I want you to tell me when you want to tell me."

Peter stared at him in surprise. "But that's the thing." He murmured, voice hardly above a whisper. "I'm not scared. Not when I'm with you."

Wade smiled a slow, warm smile. "I'm glad, Baby Boy." He leaned in to touch their foreheads together again. "But still. I want you to wait. Wait until this is all over and things are back to normal again."

Peter blinked, something warm and full of wonder trickling through his veins, warming his heart. "Okay." He breathed, tipping his head up to catch Wade's mouth in another soft kiss.

Wade hummed approvingly. They stayed there on the couch for a long time. Eventually, Peter crawled into Wade's lap and lay his head down on his broad chest, letting the feeling of Wade surround him until he didn't feel anything but content.

Things were fucked up. But as long as Peter had Wade, he knew it would be okay. He would be okay. Wade made him feel safe and happy. And he thought maybe they could be together forever. And as long as they were together, Peter would be okay.

And so even though the fear and the guilt and the worry came back when Peter left out Wade's window at 5:30 in the morning, they weren't overwhelming. Underneath it all, holding Peter together, was a sort of peace.

As long as he had Wade.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Song Credits:

Title:
Local God – Everclear
Lyrics:
Summertime Sadness – Lana Del Rey

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo