Sometimes Wade would wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat, panting for breath. Peter was a light sleeper, that was kind of in his job description, so he woke up every time. First few times it happened, Wade would say something about a nightmare where tacos were extinct and brush it off. But after he woke up screaming one night, Peter didn't let him push him away.
He practically forced Wade into his arms and he might have felt bad about if at first, but as soon as he felt Wade relax in his arms, stop shaking and start breathing normally, he knew he did the right thing. He murmured sweet nothings into his ear until he calmed down enough to be able to look Peter in the eye. Peter stroked his cheek and neck, his arms and his back. Eventually, Wade held him tighter and hid his face in the crook of Peter's neck. Peter heard him sob anyway, only once.
He pulled Wade's face away and looked at him, reassuring; of what - he wasn't sure. Wade was searching his face, ashamed and afraid. Peter only smiled and kissed his forehead, like he remembered Aunt May used to do. He hoped it would bring him some ease, tell him he wasn't alone, that Peter was there for him. It must have worked, because Wade sighed in relief and pulled Peter even closer, not letting him out of his arms for the rest of the night.