Their romp between the sheets had Peter limp and aching in all the right places. The chimera was watching its mate with silver eyes and inhuman fangs, Wade trailing irregular patterns on Peter's skin, tracing old and newer scars, or playing with his spent dick.
"Wade," he breathed when those fingers stayed down south.
"Hm? Warm enough, Petey?"
Oh, he was plenty warm. Almost too hot.
Wade claimed a kiss, exploring, Peter feeling a hint of sharper teeth. He felt the prickle where Wade had renewed the mark on his shoulder.
Deadpool trailed biting little kiss along his neck, then continued his path to one nipple.
Peter groaned, then yelped when those teeth reached it. Okay, so he was getting it back up again.
Wade smirked at him.
"Knew I could make you scream twice," he said roughly.
"You've already proven that."
"Hm, I like to hear it from time to time."
SD
Outside the storm gained in force, snow coming down in buckets and blanketing the streets in white. It didn't stop until well into the morning hours.
Three feet of snow altogether.
New York was suddenly a quiet place, brought to a stop by natural forces where alien invasions hadn't really put a dent in.
Subways, busses, taxis… all had come to a hold. Shops were closed, people stayed home.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
Peter regarded the winter wonderland with almost quiet contemplation. It was freezing cold outside, but Wade's apartment hadn't lost heat or power. Food wasn't going to be an issue. Wade had stocked everything they would need to survive for a month and he had pointed out the generator in case of a power failure.
"Boy scout," Peter had teased.
Spider-Man was without his suit, though. He hadn't packed it when he had decided to go grocery shopping, and now he wondered if he should try and make it to his place. Sharing Wade's stuff was okay. He didn't need fresh clothes, he already had a toothbrush here, and everything else.
"Don't," Wade suddenly said, joining him at the window.
He was dressed in faded jeans and a woolen sweater that looked like someone's grandma had knitted it. Colorful patches, soft and cozy. Peter almost couldn't stop looking at him.
Yeah, sometimes he was struck by the other man's so different look when he was out of the Deadpool costume. Human. Relaxed. Still dangerous, but more Wade than Deadpool.
The costume was sexy as hell. Wade out of it was no less attractive and Peter sometimes just wanted to look. Or jump his bones in a very straight-forward way.
"Huh?" he made a quizzical noise, trying to drag his brain away from jumping bones.
"Just don't. Whatever you're thinking about."
"Mind-reader?"
"Wouldn't that be neat?" He grinned, dark eyes lighting up. "But nope. I just know that look. If you really want to go out there, call Santa."
"I'm not going out."
"Good." Wade leaned into him, as tactile as always, and sighed. "Wouldn't want my baby boy to get eaten by a snow drift."
"I'm not going to get eaten." Peter didn't try to keep his exasperation out of his voice.
"Cause you're staying inside," was the smug reply.
"Snow doesn't eat people."
"Ever seen Frozen?"
"That's a Disney movie and no one gets eaten by snow."
Wade frowned. "Huh, coulda fooled me. I thought it was a nature documentary on the dangers of mutant princesses and their pet monsters, up against a world that doesn't understand them and men who just want to fuck them for the crown."
Peter chuckled, shaking his head.
The kiss was long, slow, deep. Peter kept his hands running over Wade's back and sides, under the sweater, feeling strong muscles and warm skin.
"You still feel so good," Wade told him, voice wavering a little, almost filled with wondering realization.
"Hm, I hope so. I think an anchor should."
"He should," his partner confirmed. "And you do. Better than I could have ever imagined. And I got a really good imagination."
Peter pulled him into another kiss.
SDSDSD
The spent the next hours watching TV. Wade insisted on a My Little Pony marathon and Peter humored him. When his partner pulled a long-sleeve Bronie shirt out of his closet, he snickered and shook his head.
"Only you."
"Not just me. There are thousands of us!" He pumped a fist into the air. "Bronies Assemble! Oh, wait, no. That was… Bronies Unite? Bronies… whatever." He shrugged and settled down again.
Sometimes they switched over to a news report, but there was nothing that had Peter scrambling to help.
Not that he could. Maybe in a ski mask, jacket and gloves, but he really didn't think he was needed.
Deadpool agreed.
Everything was under control.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
Christmas came and went. Peter tried to ignore the holidays, though he did get Aunt May a present and they had their Christmas together, just like every year. He loved her home-cooked meals and he usually left with a ton of leftovers that would tide him over until the next year.
Wade went a little overboard on the decorations in Peter's apartment, but Peter just let him. Sure, it looked like Santa had thrown up in there, but it had a certain kitschy charm.
There was a whole green house of mistletoe and it led to a lot of making out, which he didn't really mind. That also led to a lot of sex. Also not something he minded.
He drew a line at matching Christmas sweaters.
"Ohhhh, you'd rather see me out of it," Wade murmured seductively and tossed the brightly colored and really ugly shirt into a corner. "Can do, baby boy. Easily."
SD
Yes, he liked to see him out of the sweater. And the rest of his clothes.
A lot.
Peter didn't think he had had this much sex in all the years prior to meeting the chimera. Not just sex, also intimate moments that were nothing but touches, caresses and a kiss.
Wade was… sensual, for lack of a better word. Touchy-feely, but in a good way. It was nothing anyone would think of him, the crude, loud and rather rude mercenary that he showed to the outside, but Peter had gotten to know the man underneath in the months leading up to the day they had finalized the bond.
He loved him.
All of him.
The loud and the soft, the crude and the gentle. He loved his erratic mind, his pop culture references, his addiction to Mexican fast food. Underneath that was the vulnerable, the self-doubt, the insecurity, and Peter worked hard on giving Wade Wilson what he had missed in his past years: unconditional acceptance. Intimacy that went past a quick roll between the sheets.
It still stirred something inside Peter when Wade's expression turned from tense to amazed to wanting when Peter touched him without hesitation, didn't shy away from Wade's touch in turn.
He knew it would need more time for Deadpool to accept that this was truly his life now, that it was reality, not a hallucination or a temporary fluke.
SD
He went out in costume a few times, swinging between the buildings, enjoying the fresh air, even if it was freezing in costume, his mind relaxed. Webslinging always did that to Peter. He loved it, how it eased all kinds of stress, took his mind off his problems, and if he caught a few would-be thugs, then well: bonus!
Deadpool came along, wearing a garish scarf that he proclaimed was there to keep him warm, and a Santa hat.
New York was busy again after all the snow from the storm had been cleared from the tracks and roads, the airports now open again. People waved at Spider-Man, some asking for photos to take home to wherever they came from to show that they had met one of New York's superheroes.
Spider-Man was only too happy to oblige.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
They migrated to Wade's apartment the day after Christmas because his heating went out – again! – and with it running water, and it didn't look like it would be up within the next twenty-four hours. Pipes had busted. Great. Just great.
Peter cursed his luck, his general situation, his lack of funds and lack of a decent job.
He actually packed for a longer sleep-over. Including but not limited to all his Spider-Man gear. The spare costumes, the replacement web-shooters, his tools, his experimental shooters, and his laptop.
Wade didn't make a comment on the large backpack and carry-on bag that was filled to the bursting point he lugged out of the cab – Dopinder's – and into Wade's apartment. His eyes were unreadable, except for the flicker of hope in there.
SDSDSD
They worked out how to live together in the confines of the apartment. Deadpool just pushed some of his stuff into a corner and set up a work space for Peter where he could keep his web-shooters, the tools and his laptop. The clothes went into the wardrobe, which had been cleared out enough to make room, and sharing a bed wasn't really a problem.
It took some getting used to.
Somehow it worked, with a minimum amount of arguing.
Peter felt the chimera's contentedness, how it flowed around the bond like a silky mass of affection and warmth. He sometimes reached out and touched it, amazed that he could do this. He hadn't been taught how to use the bond, how to use his mind, but it was so natural to just… do it. He wouldn't be able to describe it to anyone. It wasn't physical and yet so much more than a mere touch.
Wade sometimes looked at him, that softness in his eyes that threw Peter at first.
Human. And yet not at all.
Open.
Never vulnerable, never weak, just… open.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
It was the day after New Year's that Peter finally made his decision to accept the offer from before: moving into the wide open-space apartment Deadpool had wanted to give him months ago, now with plumbing and heating.
In the past months their partnership had solidified in more ways than just sexually. The mark on Peter's shoulder attested to that part.
But the other side of their relationship, sharing more than just a bed and bodily fluids, developed, too. While Peter knew that introducing Wade Wilson to Aunt May as his partner was currently still a no go, he had achieved small victories.
In private, Wade refrained from hiding his face now. He would go out into public with his hoodie and basecap, hands covered by gloves, but he wouldn't often join Peter for a meal. He did like a certain bar, though, where he didn't hide and even pulled down the hood, much to Peter's surprise.
No one looked twice at him.
He was known here.
It was a curious moment for Peter, that first time there. And then he was introduced to Weasel, who had squeezed the living daylights out of him and called him a bro-in-arms.
"I finally get to meet the man who shagged up with Avocado Guy!"
Peter glanced at Wade, who rolled his eyes. The bar was moderately busy, but no one gave them a second glance. It was a rather rough looking crowd, but they clearly respected Wade. Some eyed Peter curiously, but quickly went back to their own business. It was clear that he had a reputation. Whether they knew he was Deadpool or not.
"Beer's on the house."
"Make it water and we have a deal."
"Huh. Sure. Not a drinker?"
"Not at ten in the morning."
Weasel shrugged and pushed a bottled water at him, then opened a bottle of Coke for Wade and plopped it in front of the merc.
"Can't tell you how glad I am you two finally got your stuff together. I'm not the Agony Aunt and I'm not Ask Fucking Hilda. You have gotten your stuff together, right?"
"Shut up, Weasel," Wade grumbled.
Peter grinned and sipped at his water. "Yes, we got it together."
"The chimera bonded. Whip out the party hats!" Weasel looked utterly relieved. "I told you, dude." He stabbed a finger at Wade. "You can bond. You did. You could have gotten that way faster and a lot easier."
"Shut up," Deadpool repeated, thumb scratching at the label.
"Nope. I get to tell you I told you so for a while. Told you so!"
"I'm going to kill you, Weasel."
"Nope. You're going to love me for the rest of your life, which will be forever." The man grinned at Peter. "You have no idea how relieved I am you finally got this hard ass out of his moping shtick."
"I did not mope!"
"Did, too."
Wade's expression was lethal, but there was embarrassment coloring his eyes.
Peter decided he liked Weasel. He leaned a little closer to Wade.
"You did mope," he murmured.
"Et tu, baby boy?!" came the outraged exclamation. "You're so sleeping on the couch tonight!"
"You are going to sleep at your place tonight," Peter shot back.
"I'm going to lock the door!" Wade replied firmly. "No sneaking in to cuddle up to this pinnacle of human perfection and studliness."
"Your loss, Mr. Snuggles."
"Take that back!" he exclaimed, scandalized.
"Nope."
"I like the guy," Weasel proclaimed.
"You would," Wade grumbled, but it didn't sound serious and the humor dancing in his eyes was real.
Peter could feel how relaxed he was, how much he saw this bar as safe, a place where he could be himself outside his apartment, outside Peter's. The banter wasn't over the top erratic or borderline weird. It was just… banter. It was fun. Wade Wilson was having fun.
"Hey, anyone who can get you out of your fugly shell and kick you into accepting a good thing is a hero in my book. I was this close to opening a betting pool on whether you'd get your act together in this millennium or wait for the next! Peter, I could kiss you."
"No thanks."
Deadpool shot his friend a narrow-eyed, warning look and Weasel waved him off.
"You're one protective motherfucker. Chill. I'm not poaching. You can have him all to yourself."
SDSDSD
They drank their sodas, Weasel dropping by every time he was done serving alcohol to another customer, and when they left, it was already past noon.
And it was drizzling outside, the sky slate gray, the wind picking up a little.
Wade pulled up the hood and Peter jammed a hat onto his head. Traffic was murder, everyone already way past the cheerful celebrations and back into the everyday madness of life in NYC.
SD
He didn't sleep on the couch that night. His own or Wade's. Actually, he shared the bed with a very cuddly Wade, who was unabashedly naked.
SD
The chimera was growing slowly, every day of the week, evolving, becoming stronger, testing the waters of newfound traits. It was a frightening sight to see Deadpool let go now and then, the fights close to deadly, just shy of killing a target, but he was in total control.
More than ever.
No accidental dismemberment or beheading. He didn't go overboard.
He was amazing to watch.
Even if he kept running his mouth off. That would never change.
And when the chimera looked at Spider-Man, he knew he was gazing at a surreal, primordial creature that had shaken off its chains and was soaring. It was unique, the only one of its kind, with no predecessors and most likely no followers.
It was anchored only to him.
Looking at him for guidance, to calm itself, to be balanced.
Learning from him.
And its long, sharp talons were irremovably latched in Peter's soul.
SDSDSD
"I'm sorry," Wade whispered one night, face pressed into Peter's neck, arms around the slender form. "I'm sorry."
"Wade?"
"It's in you now. It…, well I…, we can't let go anymore. You're trapped."
Peter blinked, resting his hands on the powerful arms snaked around him. "It… the chimera?" he asked.
It got him a sharp exhalation. "Yes. Its claws are in you."
"Well, we're bonded?" he answered, making it a query. "I mean, that's the whole meaning of it, right? Establishing a balance, anchoring one another."
Another sharp exhale. "Yeah," the merc finally murmured. "Yeah. That's… it."
He kissed the exposed neck and loosened the embrace. Peter turned and captured the dry lips, enjoying the hum coming from Wade.
Part of him was a little confused as to what had just occurred. Another part decided to just ignore it for now and simply give Wade the comfort he sought.
SDSDSD
Deadpool hadn't mentioned the wide-open place they had looked at so long ago ever since their first visit. He had tried to help his bonded in other ways.
And still… it had become necessity. The chimera relied on Peter in a different way now.
They were together more intimately, and the primal thing that had awoken inside Wade Wilson wanted its territory protected. It prowled restlessly and snarled at the lacking safe environment its mate resided in.
Peter had only stayed with him for a month, longer than it had needed for the broken pipe to be fixed and the heat to be back. He didn't have to pay rent for the time of the repair, but he had dragged out his rooming-in with Wade. Now he was back in that little shabby place and the chimera was restless.
Wade looked uncomfortable whenever his more possessive, protective side came through. He usually fought it down by chasing villains around the city and getting killed twice in a day. Actually, within three hours.
Peter had nearly thrown a fit.
"I want this," he told the chimera. "I really do. With you, but not on still such uneven scales. You bring the money, this amazing property, and what do I bring?"
"Your sexy bod?"
"Wade."
Deadpool shook his head, gesturing violently. "You bring yourself! Don't you understand? All of you is everything, Petey! Everything! I need it safe and I'll always need it, because the chimera needs it! You! You're so fucking important I can't… Why can't you see what this means?" he demanded. "I already took everything from you! Your… soul! Your fucking soul! It's right there and it sits and waits… and it's not letting you go! You are my soul!"
Peter's mind was reeling.
Inside him, the space he had come to identify as the connection forming with the preternatural pinged sharply.
"Wade," he tried.
But he got a wave instead. "No. No, no, no! The chimera is a monster. It takes everything from you and it won't go away! Money doesn't matter! I can't buy you your freedom ever again!" His voice never rose, was this sharp, almost monotone growl, reflecting danger. "You're stuck with me and I can't ever compensate you for that. You did something no sane person should have. You gave me yourself… I want you safe, Peter. Please!"
"Wade," he tried again, but the mercenary didn't really hear him.
"It doesn't have to be here," Deadpool continued, voice sounding almost pleading now, the desperation rising. "I already make it work alternating between your cubby hole and my fortress of solitude. No copyright infringement intended! I just… your place isn't safe!"
"It's okay," he tried to argue.
"Fuck no! It's not! It's a nightmare! And I'm a nightmare! I know what I'm talking about!"
"I can take care of myself," Peter said, voice hardening. "I've been Spider-Man for eight years now. I'm not the submissive little bond mate you need to protect, Deadpool!"
Okay. Where had that come from? Peter needed to take a step back and examine his emotional overload on this. He kept lashing out whenever matters turned to moving in together. It wasn't the moving part, or the living together part. It was where Deadpool wanted him; his place. The place he owned. The place where Peter would make no contribution to the monthly rent.
The other man stared at him, his body taut, all sharp lines and power. Peter felt the chimera like a second skin, rising behind the human façade, twisting and curling like a predator ready to strike.
"I know it's your nature," he went on. "I know it's part of you, the chimera. But I'm my own man. I make my own decisions. Moving in together isn't yours to make on your own! This is big! And handing me the keys to a new place that you own isn't the right way either!"
The snarl was frightening, absolutely animalistic, and Peter felt the stab of anger through the anchor line. It was such a powerful surge, he was briefly surprised Deadpool didn't shift into something with teeth and claws himself.
"For a smart boy, you are incredibly stupid!" came the hiss. "It… grates on me to know you're so exposed! It… it's uncomfortable. I tried not to give in. I didn't want this. I never wanted this! But you didn't give up and now?! Now it's like I can't fucking think straight when you're in that shabby hole in the wall!"
Wade's eyes were burning a bright silver behind those eye covers. Peter could see it. They were almost inhuman in their intensity, and it constricted something inside the younger man, had him swallow.
"Okay! I'll pay rent! Or utilities!" he finally snapped, at the end of his emotional rope. "I'll move when you promise to include me on paying for the costs, okay?!"
Deadpool looked both sheepish and triumphant in one. Peter knew he was caving too soon, but something was off and he needed to think about it.
"It's not a rental," he replied.
"I don't care! Utilities costs are not included, right? I'm my own person, Deadpool! I've always been! I'm your partner, we're bonded, but I'm not…"
"Dependent. Submissive. The omega to my alpha." There was a sad smile coming through the expressive mask. "Spideyboy, you are so much more and don't know it, right? You have the absolute power. You are the leader of this two men pack."
"Hellhounds are not pack animals!" Peter snapped, but the heat was gone. "And the chimera is… I'm not sure what it is, but it's not my alpha! I've been self-sufficient for a long, long time, Deadpool. I'm not going to just roll over and play the role."
The merc came closer, almost hesitant in each step.
"You still don't understand," he stated, shaking his head. "Why don't you understand? Why don't you feel it? You're aware, right? You know it's there. You said so in not too many words. I trust you," he whispered into Peter's ear, masked lips brushing against masked skin. "Absolutely. With every fiber of my being. I'd give you anything you ask for, follow you into every battle, fight by your side. Just one word, Peter. I can't deny you."
Spider-Man felt something inside of him shatter and reform at the avalanche of words.
"You're not a slave," Peter argued automatically. "I'm not your handler, Deadpool. I don't want to be. We're not working for SHIELD and I, personally, never will. And I'm not your prisoner either. We're independent individuals. We make our own decisions. You're not a mindless creature."
"I'm your mate, baby boy. You and I… matching set."
"And we're equals!"
He was pulled in close to the hard form, against warm leather and hard armor. Deadpool nuzzled against his neck and Peter shuddered.
"This is for me. Only for me. You could leave and take everything with you, Peter. You are my anchor and my life. You balance the yin and the yang, the black and the white. You make this less… chaotic. You're everything. I'm connected to you. Forever. This is what the bond means. Teeth and claws and all, buried in you, keeping you with me. The chimera is a night terror, a twisted freakish darkness, but it will always defer to you. I made my choice."
"Wade…" he tried to interrupt, hearing the still growing desperation in the other man's voice.
"Please? I need you, Peter. You give me a sense of calm in a world that doesn't. I can't let go, but I'd do just that if you ask me to."
"I'd never…" He drew in a sharp breath, understanding all of a sudden.
Deadpool was ruled by a primal instinct in this matter, and Peter was the one who wouldn't suffer from ending the relationship. It would tear the other man to pieces, probably forever, and he wouldn't die from it either. He had risked his sanity by mating to Peter Parker.
Peter shivered and finally surrendered. "Okay. Our place."
"The Spider Cave!" Deadpool exclaimed, demeanor changing abruptly. The intensity of before was gone, replaced by a bouncy happiness.
"No."
"Spideypool Castle?"
"Wade!"
"Tower? Fortress? How about Casa de…"
"Home," Peter interrupted.
Deadpool tilted his head. "Huh. Home." He stilled. "Sounds about right," he said after a moment. "Not sure what it means, but it kinda sounds okay. With you in it, I'm okay with calling it that. A bit unimaginative, in my not so humble opinion, but hey. Who am I to judge?"
Peter smiled behind his mask, shaking his head at the explosion of words. Something curled in his stomach. Warm and longing and intense.
Damn, he was a sap.
SDSDSD
They christened the new place even before the first piece of furniture had been moved.
Not that they needed furniture for that.
tbc...