Work Text:
As careful as possible Wade climbed into the apartment he shared with Peter. The night wasn’t even over, yet, but he finished his mark sooner than he expected.
Usually he didn’t take on small, let alone local jobs, but the payment was doubled twice, because appearently no one had had enough balls to do the job.
No one but one, that is.
“THE GREAT DEADPOOL!” Wade shouted once he was through the living room window. Then a little splashing sound send him dancing on his tiptoes. “Uh, uh, no, nope, no stains, goddamnit, no stains again,” he mumbled and hurried to the bathroom, where he took his bloody, dirty costume off in the tub.
Okay, so maybe the job hasn’t been that glamourous and maybe he was dripping blood from head to toe. But he and Peter could live pretty decently from just this one night’s work.
So what if he had to scrub the bathtub with bleach again, huh.
The Merc turned on the shower while he was stripping off his soiled costume, all the while humming to himself. He’s always loved a good fight and that guy tonight had just begged to be unalived.
Wade might’ve not been a hero for ending that dude, but at least there was one guy less to sell dirty drugs in the city. Who knows how many died because of that scumbag making a buck on cheap chemicals and addicts.
He sighed as the hot water finally touched his naked body, the warmth soothing the ever-present ache on his skin and relaxing his muscles. His mind wandered off to his boyfriend, who was probably saving someone again, being the wonderfull, caring hero he is. And when he was done being good, Wade was sure he could get him out of that red and blue costume and bring out the bad boy.
Peter would come home in his costume, he always did. Sliding in through the living room window they always left unlocked.
Maybe the night had him exhausted and so pliant under Wade’s hands, that he could coax his boyfriend out of the tight fabric of his costume and into a hot bath. But maybe the night went really uneventful for Peter and he entered the room with sparkling eyes, happy to be home. He would pull Wade into a tight embrace, kiss him.
Once he had his beautiful lover out of his tight costume, all this creamy soft skin for him to see, Wade would made sure that Peter didn’t need any more clothing for the rest of the night.
He would lay him on the bed, right onto the silky sheets Peter bought and that were so perfectly cool and soft on Wade’s scarred skin. And that looked even better when decorated with the writhing naked body of the younger man.
The Merc couldn’t wait to touch him, every part of the lithe but incredibly strong body. He would kiss him, every inch of skin; he would trace every little dip and valley of Peter’s body with his tongue.
Wade could almost hear Peter’s voice, raspy with arousal, saying his name, begging him for more.
Right on cue Wade heard the living room window being pushed open again. Then, light footsteps tapped on the hardwood floor and the Merc grinned, before stepping out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist.