A/N: Hello again, chickadees. It took me a tad longer than usual to get this chapter out, because I was being exceedingly indecisive about where I wanted the story to go, and how quickly I wanted it to get there. My apologies. I hope you enjoy.
Wade was more excited than usual for tonight's movie night. It had been a little over two months since they started meeting every Thursday evening, but this was the first time Peter would be coming to his apartment, and he felt like a giddy schoolgirl before a sleepover. He had picked out a couple of ultra cheesy made-for-TV sci-fi movies, arranged to have a feast of Mexican delicacies delivered from his favorite food truck in about half an hour, and had even made an attempt to straighten up his living room. Peter would be arriving any moment now.
These days, the merc was always looking forward to the next time he got to hang out with Spidey. He had friends here and there, or at least people he consider friends (though there was a part of him that knew they usually didn't feel the same), but it was a different situation with Peter. He was honest and upfront. Funny, too. He almost always had a joke to make, but he was also good at listening. He would sit patiently, nodding and commenting every now and then while Wade rambled on and on. Sure, there were subjects that they disagreed on (the older man's work ethic, and the joy he took in his job, for instance), but they still managed to get along pretty well.
One hilariously horrible movie and about five pounds of Mexican food later, both of them were splayed out across opposite ends of the couch, surrounded by assorted food wrappers. An air of mild binge-induced self loathing filling the room. They had gone a little overboard with dinner, and even Wade was silent for the duration of the first movie. As the credits rolled, Peter forced himself up from the too-comfortable armrest, and the older man peeled himself from his to switch the movies.
"Want some ice cream?"
"Oh god, please, no..." Peter laughed, "Maybe in a few days." He had brought a box of fudgsicles for them to eat after dinner, but the thought of consuming anything else at the moment made him nauseous. The older man flashed his usual wry grin, and sat back down.
Over the next half hour, Peter tried his best to stay awake, shaking his head, rubbing his eyes, and sitting up as straight as possible, but to no avail. The merc snickered as he watched the younger man slowly drift off from the corner of his eye. Spidey had mentioned that between work, classes, and studying for his upcoming midterms, he'd been burning the candle at both ends for the past several days, so Wade thought it best to leave him be. Not too interested in the movie without Peter awake to make funny faces at the terrible dialogue and special effects, the merc retrieved his sewing kit and the nearly completed friendship quilt he was making for him.
When Peter had been so desperately trying to remain conscious, he had scooted farther and farther towards to middle of the couch to keep himself from leaning on the armrest. Now that he'd finally succumbed to sleep, he had started to slump to the side, but had nothing to support himself on. He slowly slipped towards the merc until with a final flop, he practically fell into the merc's lap. Determined to let the kid get some sleep, Wade simply shifted to accommodate him, maneuvering him carefully to lay with his head on his shoulder, moving the quilt so it covered the younger man to keep him warm while he continued to work on it.
Peter stirred awake a few hours later. His head was cradled against some firm surface that gave off a pleasantly spicy-sweet scent, and the length of his body seemed to be held in a soft cocoon of warmth. He snuggled into whatever solid surface he was laying against, inhaling deeply while languidly sliding a hand and a leg over it, like a snake slithering over a sun-warmed rock to soak in its heat. He was vaguely aware his oh-so-comfortable foundation shifting beneath him, and of a faint, rhythmic thumping in his ear, but was so absorbed in the addictive combination of sensations that it took a few minute before he started to question it.
Slowly, a timeline of recent events began falling into place in his mind, eventually bringing him back to siting in Wade's apartment watching movies... and there it ended. Oh. Peter finally forced his eyes open in a snap, fighting lingering drowsiness, and jerked up. Or at least he attempted to, but was hindered by a pair of strong arms partially enveloping him. "Ouch!"
He looked up, and there was Wade, sucking on his index finger. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I just poked myself with the needle." Peter looked around, equal parts worried and confused, gathering what he could from their current too-intimate posture. The older man had been and still was reclining on the couch, and he'd apparently been curled up against him, Wade's arms wrapped around him to work on the quilt that was covering both of them.
"S-sorry..." Peter scurried from under the blanket to the opposite end of the couch, feeling his face heating up. The merc just tilted his head to the side, "It's no problem. It's already healed, see?" He held his finger out for Peter to inspect.
"No, I'm sorry for falling asleep on you." He tried to laugh, "I guess I just ate myself into a food coma."
"Oh! That's no problem either. You looked like you could use the sleep, so I didn't want to wake you." His mask wrinkled in a smile that only made Peter feel strangely more embarrassed instead of reassured, but he forced himself to smile back, "I just hope I didn't drool on you."
"Meh, there are worse stains to get out, " the older man noted nonchalantly, gathering the quilt and setting it aside.
Peter cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, looking around for a clock, groaning when he saw that it was already past 2:00 am. "I guess I should head home."
"You can just stay here for the night. It's already pretty late." Wade watched as the younger man stood and started gathering food wrappers, and joined him, knowing the kid would clean up everything on his own if he didn't intervene.
"Nah. I need to be up early. I have to meet for a group project for a class before me first lecture. Plus I desperately need a shower and a change of clothes." He laughed a made a face while tentatively sniffing himself. "I'm pretty sure I smell like a Taco Bell bathroom." The merc conceded, shooing him away from the rest of their accumulated mess, insisting he'd clean it up himself (eventually), and walking him to the door.
"Alright, I guess I'll see you the same time next week then." Peter nodded in agreement and left.
The kid had smiled and laughed, but Wade could tell that it was forced. [I suppose he felt uncomfortable waking up on us.] Indeed. (Yep. Probably grossed out. He is at that tender age where masculinity is important.) [He's not thirteen...] (Still, falling asleep on another guy probably weirded him out a bit.) Indeed. (He did turn pretty red. We should have woken him up.) [It'll be fine. He was probably just a little flustered.] Indeed. [Are you going to contribute anything to the conversation?] No.
The merc wasn't too worried about Spidey acting strange. Despite his well maintained air of flippancy, the kid seemed to get embarrassed surprisingly easily, though he usually snapped out of it after a little while.
What weighed on Wade's mind more was realizing just how much he had missed extended physical contact with someone. He hadn't minded at all when Peter was laying on him. In fact, he liked it quite a bit. Not in a weird way, but just being close to someone and feeling the pressure and warmth of another body against his was comforting. Despite being lean and somewhat muscular, the kid was still pretty slim and delicate (at least as far as superheroes go), so he fit into his arms quite nicely. His skin was soft and smooth, so unlike his own, and despite his fears of smelling like a fast food toilet, Spidey actually smelled really nice. Even if just for his own slightly selfish desire for human contact, Wade wouldn't mind if he fell asleep on him more often.
Despite being utterly exhausted, Peter couldn't seem to fall asleep. He tossed and turned for who knows how long before finally giving up on trying to get comfortable, and simply laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering for the hundredth time what was wrong with him. His heart had started racing when he woke up on Wade, and hadn't stopped since. Now, try as he might, he couldn't seem to pry the memory from his mind. But why? Peter growled in frustration and kicked the blankets off. He knew exactly why.
It had been... too long since he'd been with someone. After moving out on his own, he hadn't had time for relationships. He missed the touch of another human more than his pride would allow him to admit, and the warmth and comfort of the merc's arms around him, and his sturdy chest beneath him had reminded him of it all to well. He had been so focused on school and work for so long that he had pushed intimacy aside completely, but the primal need for touch had been reignited inside of him, and he felt like he couldn't suppress it any longer. He was lonely.
The thought was unrelenting, and he continued to lay there stewing in his revelation until the first fingers of light started working their way through the curtains, and his alarm sounded. Groggy, and having not slept a wink since leaving Wade's apartment, Peter scraped himself off of the bedsheets, dreading the long day ahead of him.