Cross-Posted onto AO3 and Wattpad
I
The first year, Spider-Man asked bluntly.
It was the last week of November and months into their tentative partnership. Peter wanted to get some sort of token of goodwill; something that could represent the friendship they would forge together in the future after the past year - or so - of disdain and distrust.
So the first year, Spider-Man asked bluntly, and he did it while they were eating at one of Wade's favorite little health and safety hazards.
"Hey. What do you want for Christmas?"
Wade choked on his bite, and blinked up owlishly at Peter with that strangely expressive mask.
Peter squinted back, trying not to sigh. He probably shouldn't have phrased it like that. "Like, a small gift. Some chocolate, a Golden Girls poster, I dunno, stuff for a hobby - No, I'm not buying you anything that could grievously hurt and/or kill someone," he added, hopefully before Wade got any stupid ideas. "Just don't make it super spendy, okay? I'm a starving college kid; I'm not exactly made of money."
Ever so slowly, a smile crept onto Wade's face and Peter was feeling more and more like he'd made a mistake. "Oh? Baby boy!" Wade squealed. Yup, a mistake. "Why would you be getting something for little ol' me?"
It wasn't what Peter was expecting to come from Wade's mouth, but that's what he got anyway.
"Because… We're friends?" Peter replied, because wasn't that obvious? "Friends get each other gifts for Christmas - or I'll be getting something for you, at least. I know you're not taking jobs anymore, don't feel pressured to get something for me..."
Wade leaned in with a little alarmed sound, holding a finger up to Peter's lips. "Nope! Nuh-huh! Nada! Don't say that, I basically just got the green light to spoil you this year, you're not taking that away."
Peter's lips fell open for a retort but Wade stuffed a few tater tots in his mouth.
Ignoring Peter's outraged noise, Wade kept speaking. "I legit have so much money, that's not an issue. I just meant the friends thing. I figured you thought of me - at most - as an annoying little apprentice you were morally obligated to watch."
"You are - er - were?" Peter responded hesitantly, only once he'd finished chewing his mouthful of tots. "I mean, we've been patrolling together for months now. We've been-" Peter gestured around the restaurant "- eating together for at least the past two weeks. I'd like to think that you're more than just an acquaintance at this point. So, yeah. Friends."
Wade grinned one of those big, dopey grins of his and Peter had to bite back one of his own.
It took a few weeks before Peter realized Wade never gave him an answer. And another week after that before Peter admitted he didn't know what a certifiably insane, loaded mercenary-turned-hero would even want, and shamefully bought one of those pre-made gift baskets from Walmart.
Which only made him feel guiltier when Wade presented him with a huge pile of shittily wrapped presents.
II
The second year Peter tried again and he attempted, at first, to be civil about it. In the beginning Wade said he didn't need any gifts. Peter simply didn't give a shit. It was Christmas, he was going to get his friend a gift, and a good one at that! After a little bit of wheedling, Wade gave in and told Peter he'd think about it.
Well, after two weeks with no answer, Peter took to asking directly.
"It must have slipped my mind," Wade replied as he zip-tied a baddie to the bike rack. And, anticipating the impending glare Spider-Man was sure to give, Wade quickly continued. "It's not that I don't want you to get me anything," Peter doubted that, "I just don't usually have people who want to get me Christmas gifts," and now Peter felt bad, "so any time I'm out and about I just buy anything I want. I have the money for it, so why not?"
So, Peter decided that he was done waiting for an answer that Wade wasn't willing to give or couldn't remember to think about. That meant it was on to Plan B and, well, it definitely wasn't his smartest idea. Because why did he think tailing a skilled, insane mercenary through a crowded mall was something safe or rational?
He didn't.
Think, that is.
But there he was, effortlessly weaving in and out of the crowds as he followed Wade past the tchotchkes stands and predatory sales people, through an excruciating meal at the food court, and now into the Macy's. Several times he had to duck behind clothing racks of ugly sweaters and tackily decorated Christmas trees to avoid the merc's eyes. Which, yeah, had already spotted him at least once - if his Spidey Sense was anything to go by.
Wade pushed his way through disgruntled patrons, stopping here and there to poke through stacks of graphic tees and bobbles on trees, never lingering anywhere for too long, or really long enough for Peter to tell if Wade actually wanted the thing or if he was just curious. The only thing he did, unfortunately, linger on was the perfume. Solely unfortunate for Peter, whose poor nose was so sensitive it gets overwhelmed by the mere thought of a perfume section.
Not that it matters. Because, in the end, perfume would sorta be an acceptable gift for Wade - Not that Peter had ever noticed Wade wearing cologne; nor did he think someone who's apartment looked… the way that it did - and dressed… the way that Wade did - would want or use cologne but…
Wade seemed to be searching for something in particular.
So he hid behind his garland wrapped post, watching Wade's expression as he tested each of the different holiday offerings. A spray of gingerbread here and a mist of evergreen there and then -
Oh no.
Peter watched in muted horror as Wade plucked a plastic red bottle off the rack, and then grimaced when Wade started spritzing peppermint tom-fuckery all over his shirt.
Slowly, the smell wafted over to Peter and -
Sneeze.
Sneeze sneeze.
Oh fuck.
In between sneezes, Wade sent Peter a smug smile and dropped the perfume haphazardly back onto the rack. By the time Peter had escaped the noxious cloud of holiday "cheer" and wiped his snotty nose on the sleeves of his hoodie, Wade was already around the corner looking at the Swarovski ornaments.
Weirdly enough, the constant ringing of his spider sense had all but dissipated. Probably because Peter just had a drawn out sneeze attack from bottom shelf Christmas perfume.
By the time they met up on Christmas Eve, Peter had decided on a few gifts for Wade. None of which were particularly fancy, and he didn't know if any of them were something Wade would actually use, but he still felt like he needed to make up for the previous year's gift basket.
So Peter loaded up with a bunch of sweets to share, stopped by Wade's favorite spice shop to grab a bottle of hot sauce and braved the explosive colors of Claire's to find a replacement BFF necklace - the original had been tragically destroyed, along with Wade's trachea, in a firefight weeks prior.
Oh, and that perfume.
"So it was you," Wade said as he gently set the bottle down and grabbed the box of chocolates.
"What was me?"
"The guy," Wade replied, popping a cordial cherry in his mouth, "in Macy's. The one who was tailing me - which was stupid, by the way. Tailing a mercenary - do you have a death wish?"
Peter shrugged, then quickly shook his head. "Despite what my aunt might say: no. No I don't. But somebody wouldn't tell me what he wanted for Christmas, so I had to figure it out myself."
"No idea who that could be," Wade replied happily.
III
A year later and a few months into dating Wade, Peter found himself folded over the sticky counter of Sister Margaret's and groaning into a mug of whichever cheap beer Weasel had on tap.
Normally, Peter wouldn't feel capable of letting his guard down in Weasel's bar. He had a hard time relaxing even when Wade was acting as a "human shield" from any shady characters.
This time, however, was the first time he'd come in right after opening. The only two people milling around were Weasel - who was setting up the counter - and Dopinder - who was working on miscellaneous chores and pulling chairs off tables.
"Weasel, you've known Wade for a long time, right?"
And Weasel, who has the amazing ability to make others feel dumb without even opening his mouth, paused from where he was setting up the tills and blinked slowly at Peter.
Peter immediately felt stupid for asking.
"Right," he awkwardly cleared his throat. "I was just wondering if you knew what he would want for Christmas?"
The register clicked shut. "Is that why you've been moping at my bar? God, you're just as bad as he is." The door jingled as someone came in. Weasel paused to nod at them. "And why do you think I would know what he wants? I think, at this point, he's probably just happy someone's willing to touch him."
"His skin's not that bad," Peter grumbled under his breath and shot the other man a glare.
A glare that was ignored when Weasel left to help the new customer.
In the meantime, and since he couldn't think of anything better to do, Peter pulled out his phone to scroll through his text conversation with Wade. If he was lucky, there might be hints about stuff his boyfriend wanted or needed.
He didn't get far, however, because it took less than a minute for Weasel to get back in front of Peter. Believe it or not, he's actually a fairly decent listener - if only because he's a gossipmonger by trade.
Not that he'd ever sell Peter's information.
Wade had made it pretty clear that anyone looking into Peter needed to be sent Wade's way for a proper "talking to." And that if Weasel ended up spilling anything about Peter he'd also get a proper "talking to." What that entailed, Peter didn't have any clue. But he could hazard a guess just based on the shade Weasel paled to.
It was a threat that endlessly confused Weasel, given he had no idea why anyone would care enough about Peter Parker to buy info - other than the whole "dating an infamous ex-mercenary" thing. But it also seemed to interest Weasel to no end. Mainly because, in his mind, there was no reason for Wade to fall so hard and fast for someone like Peter - nerdy and shy as he was - when he'd been simping over Spider-Man for the last three years.
All that combined meant that Weasel was probably more patient with Peter than he was with anyone else.
"Look, I'm really not the best person to ask about this sort of thing. I think the last time I gave Wade a gift was…" Weasel trailed off, glancing up to the ceiling as if it held the answer. "Actually, I'm not sure I've ever gotten Wade a gift, but I could probably tell you what type of tech or ammo he'll use," Peter grimaced. "Yeah, I didn't think so. You're just going to have to cave and ask him."
Again, Peter groaned. "You don't think I've tried?"
Weasel shrugged and once again looked away as the door jingled.
Peter left Sister Margaret's with only one new idea, given by Dopinder who wrote down some of the restaurants Wade frequented. Unsurprisingly it was a long list, but luckily it gave Peter one solid gift he knew Wade would actually use, even if it was just a gift card.
He'd even sent a text to Cable - not that he was really expecting any response. But he was slightly amused when - three days after Christmas - he received a response: "I don't know. Porn?"
The real lifesaver, however, came through Domino.
Dom, despite having met Peter only once, decided to write down a couple of ideas she'd come up with. They were mostly small things, probably closer to stocking stuffers than actual substantial gifts. But Peter was grateful anyway, especially after Wade's reaction to the fancy numbing salve she recommended.
IV
Not knowing who else to ask and already knowing that Wade would fail to give him an answer, Peter decided to use underhanded tactics for a second time.
He should've learned his lesson the first time, his mildly disastrous mall stalk, that trying to be sneaky (especially with things that concerned Wade) was never a good idea.
But he was desperate, okay? It was probably one of the busiest years he'd ever survived, and that was saying a lot coming from an unpaid vigilante superhero.
Of course, the year didn't start that way.
But by the time Christmas rolled back around, Peter was juggling a new lab job, filling in at FEAST since May broke her hip, and trying to keep up with MJ and Harry.
Balancing all that plus his hero career? Near impossible. Then he decided to get an apartment with Wade. Which was great, by the way. It just meant he had to adjust to living with a whole other person, something he hadn't had to deal with since high school.
All in all, there wasn't that much time left for holiday shopping. Thus, he was in the desperate scramble that so many other people seemed to be at this time of year.
Domino was, once again, a massive help. Without prompting she sent a new, slightly shorter list to Peter, only asking for an extra plate of Aunt May's Christmas toffee in return - something which Peter was more than happy to offer her. Hell, he'd make a whole tray if she could send him just one idea for Valentines. Her lists were practically gold to him, at this point.
But it still felt like Peter was missing something.
So that's why Peter found himself hunched over Wade's laptop, trying for a quick snoop before Wade got home.
The first place he looked was Amazon. Of course, he avoided any active orders and his shopping cart, just in case there were any gifts in there for him. Wade was big into the surprise part of Christmas, and Peter wasn't about to spoil that bit of fun for him.
After going through his wish lists and deciding that was a bust, Peter moved onto his search history.
He carefully picked around the tabs of porn and what he could only assume were cooking blogs. Something that, for once, sparked a new idea in Peter. He didn't know much about cooking, but May did.
Finally feeling like he had an answer. Peter turned his attention to the kitchen, planning to take stock of what they already had before he grilled May about which cookbooks she liked and different brands of appliances.
His plans were immediately dashed when he caught eyes with Wade, who had been standing behind him for who knows how long.
"What were you doing?" Wade's voice was flat, his face closed off as he looked back and forth from the laptop to Peter's shocked face.
He looked hurt.
"Nothing," Peter replied, gently setting the laptop on the coffee table.
"You were snooping through my laptop." Wade decided, lips tipping downward ever so slightly. "What were you looking for?"
"I wasn't snooping, per say."
"Well, given your reaction, it's safe to say you didn't want me to know about it," Wade started slowly, and his frown deepened at Peter's wince. "Are you - do you think I'm cheating or something? Because you know you're the only one for me, Petey. If you wanted to look through my stuff all you had to do was ask."
Immediately Peter shook his head. "It's not that!"
"Then what is it?"
"I…" In retrospect, the whole situation - what might have been their first serious argument as a couple - was stupid. He should've just come clean immediately. He should've just told Wade why he was looking through his laptop in the first place. But… that would mean admitting he had no clue what Wade would want. Which felt like admitting that he didn't pay attention to the stuff Wade enjoyed or needed.
Which wasn't true, it was just… Difficult. So instead of answering, Peter ducked his head, trying to avoid the wounded look on Wade's face.
Wade studied Peter for another minute, waiting for some sort of clarification or reaction. When nothing came, he sighed and dropped his arms.
"Is it - do you think I'm lying about something? That I'm still taking jobs?"
Again, Peter shook his head.
"Then please just tell me why."
Peter took a steadying breath, not even sure he could speak with the weight of Wade's disappointed stare pressing down on him.
"I was… I was looking for Christmas ideas." Peter admitted, albeit reluctantly.
"That's it?" Wade sighed and visibly deflated, though he still looked a little bit frustrated. "Why didn't you just-"
"Ask? I've tried Wade," Peter cut in, then paused to take a calming breath. "I've tried asking you every year since we became friends and there's never been a solid answer. I just want to get you something that you actually want." He rested his head in his hands, trying to not be angry when he's the one who fucked up. "I'm sorry. It's just…" Peter trailed off, not knowing what else he could say without making things worse.
Wade didn't say anything for a while, and when he did it was a simple apology. He left shortly after, his reason being a request for backup from the X-Men.
In the end, it didn't really matter.
Wade came back from his mission and both, having had time to cool off, apologized for their role in the fight.
And, in a shitty twist of fate, one of Daredevil's newest villains decided to branch out from Hell's Kitchen crime and instead blow up an entire block of Manhattan apartments, for whatever reason. So, as a favor, they spent Christmas putting out fires and pulling people out of the rubble.
V
The next year, however, came with similar issues.
"Is this some sort of intervention?" Wade asked, having been sat down in the middle of their living room by a solemn Peter.
"It's not not an intervention," was Peter's response as he took a seat across from him. The best word for it would probably be confrontation, but intervention worked too.
"I'm not exactly sure what I did wrong," Wade started, quietly. For a few seconds his eyes darted around the room, only once falling back on Peter and then flicking away. Then his eyes fell down to his clenched hands, where they stayed. "Whatever I've done, I'll do better. I promise."
Peter groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. It's difficult to stay frustrated at Wade whenever he's reacting like this. It's not fair how easily Wade can pull off the kicked puppy look and, before knowing him, Peter never would've guessed that a six foot four, two hundred and ten pound beefcake could look so damn sad. If it was anyone else, Peter might've gotten more annoyed by the "I'm so pitiful! Please forgive me" act. But with Wade… Well, by now he knows it's not an act. Wade is so earnestly apologetic it makes Peter feel a bit guilty.
"It's not - you're not -" Peter sighed, "it's nothing serious. I've just been a bit frustrated, is all."
Wade nodded and his shoulders relaxed a little. Still, his jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he thought.
"Is it because I've been stealing from your candy stash?"
"No it's-" Peter paused. "You found it?"
Wade cleared his throat. "Not important. You were saying?"
Rolling his eyes, Peter continued. "I just…I wish you'd just tell me what you want for Christmas."
At that, the rest of the tension drained from Wade's form.
Then, he started to laugh.
"This isn't funny, Wade!" Peter tried so desperately not to whine. "It's serious. Every year you have dozens of presents for me and I only have a couple for you. And I feel… Well, It makes me feel shitty. I know gift giving is one of your love languages, so I don't want to make a no presents rule, but I'm not the most creative person." His face started to heat up a little bit. "I know what you like but I can never come up with anything you'd actually want. I just… Don't want you to feel like I don't care because I suck at this."
Wade, obviously seeing how frustrated his boyfriend was, leaned forward to wrap him in a hug. Peter blinked a few times as his eyes started to sting.
"Believe me, Pete, I know you care. I see the lengths you go through every year to find me presents. You know I appreciate that, right?" He pressed a kiss into Peter's hair. "I don't get you piles of gifts every year because I want you to prove your love by matching the amount. I get you piles of gifts because spoiling you brings me joy." Peter took a shaky little breath. "Having you here with me, making memories together - even if my cheese grater brain has a hard time remembering them sometimes - is enough. It'll always be enough."
In that moment, Peter finally realized just how much he loved Wade - his big, sweet, understanding boyfriend. And suddenly, Peter knew exactly what to get Wade for Christmas. He sniffed a little and what used to be frustrated tears, now just overwhelmed, finally started to fall.
"I don't need any gifts, baby boy. You're my gift."
+1
Weeks later, Peter let Wade chase him through the city. It was a purposeful chase, unlike most of their others which were mainly just to spend excess energy during their more uneventful nights.
Wade, of course, didn't expect anything amiss. Even if he was confused about an early patrol on Christmas morning.
After stopping a few robberies and guiding one very drunk college student home, Peter led Wade on a chase. Through alleys, past storefronts, and then - of course - onto the rooftops. It was about thirty minutes after their chase began that Peter finally got to the row of buildings he'd been heading towards. So, knowing that he'd need a little time to turn everything on, Peter raced ahead.
By the time Wade appeared in the doorway, he was only slightly out of breath. "What's this?"
"Well…" Peter looked around at what he'd set up. He'd only just barely ducked into the abandoned greenhouse, plugged in the lights, and clicked on the space heater - which was sure to be a god-send in these next coming hours - before Wade got there. He'd been preparing stuff for weeks at this point, only stopping by the day prior to get everything in place.
Newspaper clippings, photos, and other memories were hanging from a clothesline, lit by the fairy lights strung from one wall of the greenhouse to the other. It wasn't anything fancy, but he never thought of Wade as the fancy type. "You never told me what you wanted and I know you can buy anything that you need, so I had to do something. Plus, every time I try to find out by myself I just end up causing problems. This," He gestured to the mementos, the twinkling lights of the city and the quilt he'd thrown over one of the planter boxes, "felt like a safe option."
Wade, who had been peeking at a couple of the polaroid's, paused. "Not that I don't appreciate it, jingle baby, this is magical bee-tee-dubs," Wade cut in and turned to Peter, "but like I said, you don't need to get me anything for Christmas."
"But I still want to do something," Peter huffs. "So if I can't get you something material I figured, maybe I could get you something more… sentimental?"
Peter pulled out a scrapbook from behind one of the garden boxes, holding it out for Wade to grab, which he did. Wade only flicked through the first few pages before an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
"They're all…"
"Empty? Yeah. I figured it might be more fun to go through the photos and add them together."
Wade plopped down next to Peter and threw an arm around his waist, holding the book up by his knees as he took a moment to admire the page he was on. "May helped you put this together, didn't she?" He flipped back to the first page.
"How could you tell?" Peter rolled his eyes with a fond smile, then plucked a newspaper clipping off of the line. It was a picture Jameson had specifically requested and the first photo he'd ever gotten of them together. Way back then, when they were still at each other's throats. Of course, the headline said something ridiculous. Infuriating at the time, but now just funny.
Wade took the glue stick he was offered, and carefully applied some to each corner of the article before sticking it down. "I love you, sugarplum, but you've got the artistic direction of a chestnut. Which came as a surprise, seeing how skilled you are with a camera."
Peter laughed and snagged another clipping off the line.
The sun was only just glinting off the morning frost by the time the last piece had been pulled off of the line. And, with a swipe of glue, Wade finished sticking the last memento in place. He squeezed Peter closer to him and dropped his head onto Peter's shoulder.
"Thank you," Wade said, quietly. "This might be the best gift I've ever gotten."
"I'm glad you liked it." Peter smiled up at him, stretching up to plant a kiss onto Wade's cheek. "But... there's one more page."
Wade looked up to the lines again, likely searching for another recipe or maybe another pair of movie tickets. When Wade didn't find anything he turned to Peter, who handed off a short piece of golden ribbon. With a confused look and a shrug, Wade flipped to the last page and froze. Scrawled at the top, in May's neat cursive handwriting, it said 'The Engagement.'
Peter could see the moment it clicked for Wade, how his mouth fell open and his eyes zoned in on the little wrapped package in Peter's hand. Gingerly, Wade took the box and, at first, played with the ribbon - the same gold ribbon from before.
"Are you sure?" Wade whispered.
"Positive."
Wade took his time unwrapping the present. He carefully peeled away the wrapping paper, careful not to rip it, and set it off to the side. And when he was done, his fingers traced the seams of the black velvet for a couple seconds.
Peter - as impatient as he was - couldn't take it any longer.
Ignoring Wade's surprised grunt, Peter pulled the box from Wade's hands and awkwardly made his way to kneeling on the floor.
"Wade," he flicked open the box, showcasing the pair of plain gold bands he'd chosen. "Would you-"
"Yes." Wade interrupted, then froze. "I mean - sorry. You probably had a whole speech planned there and I just ruined it."
Peter snorted, "It's fine, it wasn't that good anyway." He grabbed Wade's hand and one of the rings. Despite the scars, it easily slipped on.
Wade lifted his hand up to his face to admire it, then leaned forward to peck Peter on the lips. He took the box, snagging Peter's own ring.
With a snap of Peter's polaroid and a couple minutes to let the film develop, the last page of the scrapbook was completed.
+Extra
That night, when Wade got back from Weasel's annual Christmas party, it was to a dark apartment. Quietly, he made his way through the rooms, hoping that he wouldn't wake up his sleeping fiancé. Wow, fiancé! That would take some getting used to. Apparently he wasn't that successful though, as when he was slowly closing the door to the bedroom, the lamp clicked on.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-" Wade froze as his eyes landed on Peter.
Peter was sitting patiently on the bed, hands folded in his lap. Silky gold ribbon was wrapped across his neck, then crisscrossing down his torso and finally ending in neatly tied bows around his ankles.
"Does this mean I get to unwrap you too, tinsel toes?"
Peter looked down at himself, then back up to Wade, all the while wearing an expression that said "duh?"
"Can I keep the ribbon?"
"I still have plenty of ribbon left over."
Wade stepped forward, hands smoothing over Peter's shoulder in a way that could only be considered reverential.
"I'm keeping the ribbon."