Peter returned to the room, steaming mug in his hands, explaining he'd put dinner in the oven so it would be ready soon. He perched on the sofa, the opposite side to Wade while twisted in his direction. It was a sweet gesture, not wanting him to feel crowded but also wanting him to know that he was giving him his full attention. Not that Wade had started a conversation, or had any idea what to start talking about. He didn't want to say anything that could ruin the potential of this whole thing.

"Just to get it out of the way, they did mention how anxious you get over your skin," Peter started, smile kind instead of the usual mocking cruelty Wade faced. "I just want you to know you don't have to feel self-conscious in the whole full-body gear. Though, I hope you own more than that get-up, because it is way too flattering on all those muscles, and my plan is to take this slow and not just jump your bones. It's distractingly counterproductive."

Uncharacteristically, Wade's chuckle was amused and not casually self-loathing. Anything relating to his scars was known to set him on his guard and fill him with disgust, but for some reason, Peter's flirting didn't set him off like the notion would have from anyone else. Maybe because he was still firmly convinced the boy was an angel, or some alien from an angel-like race. Wade assured him that his bones wouldn't be jumped, because he was sure one look and Peter would run and he was more likely to crush the slim kid with his buff body.

Peter giggled, "not remember your warning? I'm stronger than I look. And I'm weird, I love feeling covered and protected by a wall of muscle, even when I know I'm in control. Topping from the bottom, MJ says."

Wade tilted his head, propping it up against his fist with his elbow on the back of his sofa. He wasn't expecting such a blunt answer, nor an arousing answer like that. He could get used to being under the control of a pretty twink like Peter, even if he was still probably stronger than the chicken-armed kid. His partner blushed, mistaking the silence for shock and not Wade being caught up in a mental fantasy. Peter excused it all as a side-effect of his shameless profession and the ambiguous air to the whole hooker hook-up programme.

"What do you mean?" The merc frowned.

"Let me ask you, why did you sign up to house a hooker for a week?" Peter grinned, "everyone has their own reasons. I know a girl I work with who hopes for a sugar daddy, MJ wants to find a partner worth braving the job market for. Some guys think it's a charity thing and want to help someone get off the streets, others might think it's possible to gain a lover. And I have no idea what tent you're sat under."

Lover!

"I guess charity." Liar. "Okay, I get lonely. If the whole thing turned out to be a legitimate romantic thing, I'd be fucking thrilled. But I don't expect it. I'm just happy to feel less alone in the world, and getting you out of a shitty job just means I'm not being totally selfish."

"I'm assuming this is linked to you thinking I'll never want to touch you? I'll admit that I'm not planning to for a while, but not because I know you have scars or any shallow bullshit like that. I'm aiming for this to be more long-term than a one-nighter, I get enough of that at work.

"I have an apartment I have to pay for and food to keep in the fridge, but I hate spending my nights getting used by strangers like I'm nothing. I want to focus on college, get my degree and get a great job so I can pay you back for basically letting me freeload off you. I'm not looking for a sugar daddy to take away all my problems, I just need something to hold me up until I can hold myself up. As shitty as that sounds."

An alarm started buzzing, Peter's pocket chirping as it warns him dinner needs to come out the oven. His smile is apologetic as he brushed off the pretty intense moment he spiralled into, and promised to make up for it with dinner. Wade didn't stop him from retreating to the kitchen. That had gotten surprisingly emotional pretty quickly. But it all made sense. Wade hated his job some days, Weasel would call it his saner days, and at those times he wished he could do something different. It was admirable, that Peter had it in his plans to pay Wade back for this when he could. It made things feel more real, less like he was playing piggy bank for a bored hooker like he'd feared when calling that number.

Or he wants to pay you back so he isn't indebted and can leave. Abandon you with nothing but us to keep you company while you cry over losing someone as beautiful as him.

I get wanting to drag Wade down, it's my main source of entertainment too. But stop, you're bringing me down making me think of Pete going away like that.

"I hope you're hungry. Because I made a completely prejudiced move and made loads, cos carbs and muscles are besties or something," Peter grinned.

"And enough for a growing boy like you, huh Petey Pie?"

The boy rolled his eyes, placing a couple of steaming plates of food on his spotless (thanks to Peter) coffee table with two chilled bottles of beer.

"I'll have you know, I'm 22 years old. Long passed my growing years."

Wade sighed, "guess you're stuck playing Tiny Twink at Christmas now."

Peter laughed, like music making Wade smile without even realising. He told Wade to shut up and eat the food he'd slaved in the kitchen to make. The sassy attitude made him reach for a forkful, forgetting he was in his mask until he couldn't taste his food but could feel the heat through the leather around his mouth. Pete laughed even harder as Wade glared at him, not thinking as he lifted the mask to his nose to take a bite of food. And he couldn't feel nervous about it afterwards as the spice hit his tongue and he groaned.

"Taste okay?" Peter smirked.

"I might keep you around just for this recipe. It is delicious."

Neither spoke while they ate, both just enjoying the food and eating in company. Wade caught himself considering once again how easy his life would be to keep Peter here, the place would be clean and hot delightful meals. He'd be able to come back from a job and just shower before eating something nutritious, not just ordering a local takeaway. Much better for his health.

To feel like he was also contributing to everything, in a more meaningful way than just owning the apartment, he promised to make pancakes for breakfast. He could whip up some amazing pancakes. But it also made him think, to have breakfast they'd have to sleep first.

"About sleeping-"

"I don't mind staying on the sofa if you're uncomfortable with sharing a bed," Peter interrupted. "This is your apartment, so it wouldn't be right to kick you out of your bed. But I don't want you to think we have to share a bed, enough to be anxious about without a stranger next to you."

Wade assured him the queen-sized bed could fit both of them just fine, lowering his mask again at the mention of feeling anxious, and it was important a guest was comfortable too. Peter smiled, excusing himself to shower and sleep, as cleaning and stressing about meeting Wade was enough to tire him out, and a full meal in his belly didn't help. The merc took the plates to the sink as he wished Peter goodnight.

Wade sat back on his stained couch, trying to think of something other than the naked twink in his shower or pretty hooker curled up in his bed. Maybe sharing the bed would be a bad idea, because he went along with Yellow and White demanding he tries to kill himself every few days, what if they convinced him to just enjoy a little touch.

Cupping his ass once to add to the spank bank isn't that big a deal.

It fucking is if he's sleeping and can't consent. I might look like a monster, but I don't act like one.

Says the famous crazed mercenary that everyone fears like the boogeyman.

Fine. But I'm not that kind of monster. I kill scum that don't pay attention to consent, I don't act like them.

He tried to ignore the argument in his head in favour of trying to stay silent on his way to the bedroom in case Peter was asleep, he didn't want to wake him. As luck would have it, Wade had made the right choice based on the curled lump under the covers. The sweet guy had even changed his sheets, no doubt when he'd come in and left his suitcase. He'd earned Wade's amazing world's best pancakes for sure.

Thinking it best to not scare Peter when he woke up, Wade opted to keep the mask and gloves on while he slept. It wasn't the most comfortable, but neither was being stared at first thing in the morning, so he chose the lesser of two evils. But he didn't sacrifice the comfort of his sweatpants and a hoodie like he usually wore in bed. And he slowly lowered his bulk onto the bed, as far from Peter as he could so he wasn't disturbed by the mattress shifting, and tried to settle down. Soon his breathing began to mirror Peter's, and he was sinking off to sleep before he could overthink about the morning.