Peter woke slowly.

Huh, must have dozed off after all, he thought fuzzily as his brain slowly came online, taking in the situation.

He was absolutely relaxed like he hadn't been in ages. Actually, since becoming Spider-Man. Since Ben had died.

There were faint echoes of what had occurred the night before, but nothing too bad. It wasn't even an ache. It was a… little prod into remembering.

He smiled.

Yeah, he remembered.

He was wrapped up in warmth, human warmth. Breathing, living warmth.

As new as it was, Peter felt no alarm. His mind lazily informed him that things were just as they were supposed to be. He was waking up with his newly bonded preternatural, with Wade Wilson, and it was a good way to wake up. He hadn't had anyone in his bed for so long, it was a feeling like no other.

He had missed it.

The last time had been with… MJ. A very long time ago. And a very different time, a very different feeling.

Peter smiled wistfully at the butterflies in his stomach. He felt like a teenager after his first time.

Because of Deadpool.

Wade.

The chimera.

His.

The possessiveness was still startling him, but it felt good. Like the whole bond felt good. Nothing about it was wrong, dark or painful. It was a beautiful, calm center in his very soul, connected to a dark vortex of endless energy that felt silky and cool to him.

There was a little shift, muscles moving under skin, and a mumble as Wade woke. A hand stroked over his side, then came to rest on his stomach, and Peter involuntarily made a little noise of approval.

The movement stopped, the muscular form freezing beside him.

Peter blinked his eyes open and looked into the scarred face of Wade Wilson, Deadpool, his bonded partner… mate…

Wade's expression was slightly cautious, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Peter to come to his senses now that the sexy was over and make a run.

And, Peter realized, Wade would let him run. Deadpool would simply give in and accept it as fate.

Well, screw that!

"Regrets?" Wade broke the silence, voice rough and a little raw, and there was so much caution and reservation swinging it, it hurt. Like the other man had already resigned himself to accepting the certain outcome of this morning.

"No," Peter replied easily. "You?"

The wide-eyed shock was answer enough. "Me?" he squeaked.

He touched Wade's face, seeing apprehension, then pulled him down into a kiss.

Wade relaxed abruptly, kissing back, hungry and apologetic in one. He trailed the kisses down Peter's neck, teeth scraping over soft skin. It had a desperate touch, mixed with something so much deeper, loving, warm and soft, it was in complete contrast to what Deadpool was associated with.

It had Peter shiver. It felt so right. It felt perfect. It felt… absolutely… unmistakably… positively…

Wade nuzzled the soft throat, kissing him gently, not trying to arouse. His fingers brushed over Peter's sides, his hip, his thigh. The younger man closed his eyes and let himself fall into the touch, an arm wrapped around Wade's broad back, their breaths almost in sync.

"Falling asleep again?" the merc murmured roughly, teething at the pulse point.

"No," he mumbled, then ruined it by yawning.

It had nothing to do with Wade lacking in making out. Peter was way too mellow right now, all the stress as of late forgotten. He hadn't been aware of how badly he needed this, the intimacy and closeness, finalizing a bond that had been months in the making, until now.

Deadpool had shown the emotional stress and upheaval by being way overboard in is gestures, the protectiveness. Spider-Man had dealt with the crisis by locking everything up inside, trying to calm his partner as much as he could, reassuring Wade that nothing had changed, shouldering way too much.

Now that tight knot was no longer there.

"So I still got it," Wade laughed against his neck, shoulders shaking a little. "Putting you to sleep." Peter liked that sound of happiness. He liked feeling this human side of Deadpool. "Coffee? Tea? Me?"

"Coffee?" he yawned again.

Brown eyes, alive and warm with amusement, so very different from Deadpool's other persona, met Peter's half-lidded gaze. This was the man Wade Wilson had been.

"And here I thought you were a morning person, baby boy."

He was and he wasn't. He could patrol all night, get up early in the morning for his part-time job, then the Bugle, and collapse before going on patrol again.

Now… now he felt warm and mellow. Very, very mellow. Peter didn't want to get out of bed, even if his body disagreed and pointed out the merits of a toilet run.

"Think again."

Wade laughed, sounding almost careless; free. Yes, Peter decided. He liked that.

"Strong?"

"Very."

"One Deadpool Special, coming up. It'll melt your spoon and put hair on your chest. Then again, I don't really want to melt your spoon. It's such a nice one. As for the hair… Baby boy, I love the bare chested look."

Peter batted at him, silently laughing to himself.

The kiss was soft, without demand, just nipping gently at his lips.

The living warmth rolled away from him and Peter curled up on the spot of mattress the other man had vacated, soaking up the left-over warmth. He lazily watched as Wade slipped into a pair of boxers. He liked what he saw, the hard muscles, the grace with which the man moved. It showed a complete awareness of his body and its flexibility and strength. Yes, he liked what he saw.

And he wouldn't let Wade hide it under baggy clothes when they were alone, in private, and especially not when they were making out. Whatever Wade thought of himself, it wasn't true. Deadpool hadn't let anyone see him in too long, had hidden behind the mask or inside oversized, civilian clothes. He had convinced himself that he was a monster, hideous and horrible to look at.

Peter sensed a fluctuation along the bond and smiled as the chimera flowed around him, unbound, beautiful, so amazing and unique, a cool, silken touch. It had no clear shape, was ever-changing, but the silvery eyes and the gleaming teeth were always there, a mouthful of them, like a dragon's maw and yet not scaring him.

This had always been a two-way road. Wade hadn't been the only one profiting from their friendship, from getting closer, becoming partners and adjusting to this relationship. Where it calmed his chaos, it also brought order to Peter's. He felt more in tune with himself, ready to take on the world that was so intent on beating him down on a regular basis.

He tugged at the bond, feeling the preternatural slide closer.

Part of him.

Forever.

His bladder interrupted his lazy thoughts and he grumbled softly, climbing out of bed to follow nature's call. And brush his teeth.

SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD

Wade stood in the tiny kitchen, watching the percolator, waiting. He was stark naked, feeling no shame, no embarrassment. There was this loose sensation whispering through him, all muscles relaxed, no tension knotting them together.

The smell of the coffee was already enveloping him and he smiled a little to himself. His eyes roamed around the tiny kitchen, the old cabinets, the even older floor. Everythign was a wonderful vomit green. The percolator was probably as old as the apartment, huffing and gurgling, but it worked. Like most of everything in here.

This was so… domestic. So not him. So nothing like his life and his job was.

So not Deadpool.

Inside, the revitalized… resurrected… strange anchor-line thrummed. Strong and stable, balancing his messed-up mind with his healing soul pieces. Fragments were still sliding toward one another, trying to fit. Not like before, because that was no longer his life. Not just his energy knitting the holes and weaving a net.

This was new.

This was… Spidey.

Peter was healing the wounds, had taken the charred pieces and put them back together again.

It had been so easy in the end.

After months of fighting, of denial and stupidity, it had been so easy.

His walls had crumbled like brittle paper in a gust of wind. In their stead was the solid presence of the anchor.

Deadpool wanted to laugh, he felt so relieved, light, carefree. Like he could walk out into the world, in broad daylight, with only short and a t-shirt. For all the world to see, because that was what he felt like.

On top of the world.

Screw everyone else and their bigoted opinions!

His preternatural side was purring, like a big, sinewy predator all curled up and watching the world with a lazy flick of its tail. Dangerous, protective of its bonded mate, and still in awe that this beautiful man had allowed him… this.

Not just the connection. Deadpool was sure he could have established half a bond without the physical involvement. It wouldn't have been enough, but it would have had to be. He would have made it work, protecting Peter from the darker, uglier parts of him.

Well, Plan A to probably Z hadn't worked and he was now in the double-letter area.

It was so amazing and new to touch and be touched. He hadn't felt caresses on his hideously marked skin for too long. Peter hadn't hesitated, had treated him like he was the most desirable thing he had ever seen, and he had let him fuck him.

Again and again.

And again.

And once more for good measure, because Wade had been starving for this. Spidey had to be sore from all that.

The blowjobs hadn't been bad either. Hell, who was he kidding? His Spidey was a pro and he hadn't gagged at taking the scarred dick in his mouth and sucking out the last of Wade's brain cells.

Damn, he was going all soft and gooey again on the inside, though one part of his anatomy was growing a little harder at the rerun of last night's prime time movie with the adult rating.

The last gurgling puffs of the coffee machine drew him out of his reverie. Wade poured a mug and headed back.

SDSDSD

He stood in the doorway to the bedroom, raking his gaze hungrily over the athletic form on display. Peter was too handsome to be his, too beautiful, too much.

But this man was his. Body and soul. The bond heavy and deep within him, making the chimera puff its chest with pride, looking content and at peace. Peter was probably the only one in the world who could look the darkness in the eyes and not run screaming in terror at the violence and blood and death the gaze promised. He touched it voluntarily, without hesitation, and it pushed into those hands, purred and leaned closer.

A regular fluff ball.

Wade had no words to describe what Peter was doing to him, to the primal side that would have torn everyone else apart. It was amazing and beautiful, shouldn't be possible.

The coffee in his hands was almost forgotten at the sight of naked skin, red marks showing against the paleness.

Peter shot him a lazy smile and got up gracefully to take the coffee from him. He was gloriously naked.

Wade felt the need to reboot his brain at the sight.

And with it came a surge of doubt again, the good feeling of before sliding sideways.

Mine, came the possessive purr from deep within him. There was a fierceness laced into that one word, an absolute knowledge, that had Deadpool shudder.

Catastrophic hardware failure imminent. Software virus possible.

How could this be real? How could this be his reality?

"I'm not going to disappear, Wade."

He swallowed. "There are second thoughts. And third. Maybe more. I know thoughts come in pairs or groups," he rambled automatically, defenses struggling to come online. "'Cause looking at this in the harsh light of day… realizing you let this fuck you… makes you want to think about your life choices, right?"

"No."

"No," Deadpool echoed feebly. "No?"

"No. It will always be a 'no', Wade. Always. It's my choice. I made it." Peter wrapped his arms around him, coffee cup forgotten on the desk. His smooth skin aligned with Wade's scars, the sensation almost too much to bear for a moment. "Stop trying to give me an out. There is no out; and I don't want it. Instinct isn't wrong. In our case, it was right from the first day we met. You just didn't trust yourself, your preternatural side. I had to learn to trust Deadpool."

He shivered with the words. The chimera was so dark, so vicious, the instincts all death and destruction, but when it came to Peter… Spidey… it was soft and loving, caring.

"Why aren't you terrified of this?"

"Maybe I read too many bonding romance novels?" Peter quipped.

Wade huffed a little laugh. "That wouldn't even surprise me. You're a closet romantic, aren't you?"

"Look who's talking. And I was never terrified of what was happening. Preters and Supers can bond with mere humans."

Wade scowled. "You're not…"

"I am. I was born a normal human. I became a mutant. College taught me something about bonding in certain classes, but I didn't think I'd be so lucky to get a chimera."

"Lucky?" Wade echoed.

"Lucky," he confirmed. "I'm not painting this in fluffy clouds and pink colors either. I know what the bond means. For both of us. We are compatible, Wade Wilson. That's why it happened."

The preternatural closed his eyes. You're amazing, he thought. I don't… I just can't… how are you this perfect?

The power Peter had over him should be terrifying, but it was like a warm blanket, a calmness he hadn't felt like this before. It kept in check the nightmare, the lethal force that always took and never stopped hungering for the kill. And the next. And more. Eating up emptiness and leaving ash and ruins.

Peter leaned his head against Wade's, so warm and alive, so pliable and seemingly vulnerable. The strength in the lean, athletic form was almost palpable and Wade wanted to touch and explore all day.

Because he could.

He was allowed to.

This was his.

His confidence soared again. The tightness in his chest, one he hadn't really been aware of until now, suddenly eased.

Peter was compatible. To his level of crazy and insane. To his chaos and everything that followed it.

Mate, the thing inside him whispered, voice like serrated glass and sharp-edged blades. Mine. My precious.

And it was stealing iconic movie lines, yep. As long as he didn't start quoting Darth Vader, fine. Deadpool drew a line at borderline incest.

Peter pressed a kiss against one temple, startling him out of his thoughts about twins and fathers. The next kiss was on the lips.

Wade slid a broad hand over the tight little ass that had always taunted him in dark blue and red spandex. Wade had wanted that ass since the first time he had seen it. It had been a game. The game had been upped slowly and now… now he was free to touch. It wasn't even clad in any kind of spandex or underwear. It was flaunting, it was daring him.

Yeah, he wanted it.

Right now.

Bonding didn't necessitate sex, but screw necessity. This was more than a balancing anchor for the terrifying weapon he was, for the horrific creature that had replaced his soul. This was his mate. This was his little baby boy spider.

Peter inhaled sharply when he pulled him impossibly closer, trapping the hard evidence of his own arousal against the rough, scarred skin.

"Hope you can call in sick," the merc rumbled.

"Hope you can compensate my lost pay."

"Hm, paying for sex with my bonded? Kinky. Me like." He silenced any comment with a hard kiss, demanding and hungry now, apologetic and loving the next moment.

They kissed messily, Peter not really ready to submit in any way, and the chimera loved the challenge, surging forward and challenging its mate in turn. Both men tumbled onto the bed, hands sliding over each other, Wade roughly jerking the younger man closer to orgasm. He suddenly stopped, listening to the whine of protest with a wolfish smile.

He swallowed the complaints in a kiss, urging Peter to turn.

Taking that ass now was just as heady as the first time. There was hardly any preparation needed.

Peter was completely on board, pushing back, demanding, fingers digging into the mattress, muscles straining.

Wade wrapped his arms around the lean waist, bringing them closer, deeper together, and Peter groaned when he bottomed out.

"Yeah," the merc whispered. "Just like that."

"You drive me crazy."

"My specialty, baby boy."

He moved a little, making Peter groan in delight.

"Glad you have a healing factor," Wade murmured as he continued the agonizingly slow movements.

"Yeah," was the breathy answer. "Just like you are going to need yours."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Fact. Solid fact."

"Hm, speaking about solid and up the ass…"

Peter groaned again, this time at his words. He reached back one-handed, fingers digging into Wade's buttock he could grasp. Urging him on. Demanding.

Wade was only too happy to comply.

tbc...