Work Text:
Wade sighed deeply as he dropped the sponge again. It landed with a wet splash on the floor instead of in the sink, where he was just doing the dishes.
There were just a few more plates to clean, so he forced himself to go through with it.
It was ridiculous just how difficult such mundane household chores could be when his mind was in this state again. The Merc could hardly focus on anything today, the voices in his head kept screaming at him, his mind shifting through hallucinations and ideas and thoughts every few minutes. And on top of it his skin felt like it was on fire, the bumps and scars heated up and red.
With shaky hands he set the last plate up to dry and slumped against the kitchen island behind him, breathing deeply. It didn’t really help him focus today, but it did feel good to get some more oxygen into his system.
Sighing again, he pressed the heel of his palm into his forehead, rubbing gently as if to soothe his raging thoughts.
A click on the door made him jump. Wade looked up to find Peter in the doorway of their shared apartment, his backpack slung over one shoulder, key dangling in one hand, a paper bag from a bakery in the other.
“Oh, you’re home already. Welcome back!” the young man said cheerfully and Wade felt his heart stir a little at Peter’s bright smile.
“Hi ...,” was all Wade managed, his voice weak but still too loud in his own ears. Immediately Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped the backpack to the floor before shutting the door.
The hero said nothing, already knowing the pained look in his boyfriend’s eyes too well.
Wade didn’t know how to feel when he was drawn into a gentle, loving embrace. A small, delicate hand touched his neck, but Wade knew just how much strength his under the smooth fingertips, so he let his head sink on Peter’s shoulder.
“How bad is it? What can I do?” the younger man asked, but Wade just snaked his arms around his lover, holding him close, breathing in his scent.
“Just ... a few minutes ...” he mumbled and Peter nodded, understanding. His hands began carressing Wade’s neck, his shoulders, down his back, every part he could reach; not demanding anything.
The Merc pressed his body closer to the hero’s, indulging in the warmth of his body, and closed his eyes for a while.
With every of Peter’s heartbeats against his chest, he felt his racing mind slow down. The voices got quieter and his thoughts calmed, let him have some more clarity. His own heard slowed down again, and suddenly he was aware again of the sunlight that came through the big living room window, that he didn’t even notice all day.
He heard some cars going by on the street, heard some footsteps in the hallway, and most importantly, he heard Peter’s slow, even breaths. It was as if a breeze swept over him, drowining out all the pain on his skin and the loud voices in his head.
Wade didn’t pay attention to how much time had passed, but it was probably a while, because Peter sounded worried when he spoke again.
“Can I do anything? Do you want a bath to calm down your skin? Or some sleep?” he offered but Wade didn’t yet answer.
Just for a few more seconds he let his eyes closed, took one more deep breath, and then looked down at his boyfriend.
“What can I do?” Peter repeated and let his hands travel from Wade’s neck to his face, stroking his temples with soft fingertips.
The Merc smiled and felt his shoulders sink down.
“What? What is it?” Peter wanted to know with furrowed brows.
“You just made it better,” the older man explained and leaned forward to kiss his lover. “Thank you, Petey. Thank you.”
Peter looked confused, but leaned up and gripped Wade’s shirt to kiss him again.
“Are you sure? Everything allright?”, he asked and this time Wade looked him in the eyes and nodded.
“Yes, so much better. You are the best medicine I could ever get, Sweetie.”
Peter smiled a little, his warm brown eyes studying the Merc’s face for a few seconds. His fingers stroked the hem of Wade’s red shirt – a real T-Shirt, he wasn’t hiding as much as he did in the beginning of their relationship – and finally he smiled.
Wade couldn’t help but think that this was the best thing he’d seen all week.
******
“Hey, what’s in the bag?” Wade asked later, when they were setting pots and pans on the stove to prepare some lunch.
“Desert, of course. You said on the phone yesterday you never got to try french pastries even though you were in France. So I brought some from that new bakery.”
Wade stopped suddenly, a pack of eggs in his hand, to look at his lover.
“You are the best, Petey. I love you," he said and felt his heart clench because of the sheer honesty of those words.
Peter laughed, happy and with a cheerful sparkle in his eyes. “Wow, if I get this for pastries I’ll bring them every day,” he teased and leaned in for a kiss, which Wade would never have denied him.