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The entire concept of having soul mates, it’s so flawed. Wade doesn’t think that the universe can mash two people together because the names branding their skin match. The universe must think its funny, this cosmic entity that pairs people together by little red threads regardless of where their life is at or progressing toward.
Maybe it’s just the name that’s misleading. Soul Mates. That implies a match made in the stars, destiny and fate and everything else that should be out of their control. But they’re just humans, some with a bit extra, but humans nonetheless with this biology that apparently bends at the will of destiny.
If this had been destiny’s idea, it should be easy. Finding the person that you’re meant to spend you’re life with, your ideal partner and match, it should be like breathing once you find them. Wade had thought before, when the name was still dark and clear on his wrist, that finding Peter would be like grasping at a lifeline, that everything would fall together.
It’s not easy.
Wade had fucked up something royally. It probably isn’t just about taking a kill he maybe shouldn’t have when looking through a moral lens. He had made the mistake before this, before everything he has put Peter through. It had been when he admitted to the younger that he could still see his name scrawled across his wrist in his memory, that he needs to know if Peter matches his.
Dragging Peter into this had been the mistake.
Peter is a strong man, that goes without saying. The strength radiates from his personality and the grace he delivers the physical portion with. Watching him fight has always mesmorized Wade, because Peter makes it something of an art with the way he calculates and twists his body, the precise movements and stealth.
But not even Peter is certified to deal with Wade’s level of fucked up. Wade feels bad for him, hopes that maybe this is all a cosmic mistake that Peter isn’t stuck with him for eternity. It’s hard to just ignore your Bond Mate, but for Peter’s sake he hopes that maybe he tries because he deserves so much better than him.
They’ve been trying to work through the rough patches, but it’s as though every hill they get over has a mountain behind it.
It’s easier to run away from it, even though Wade tells himself that he’s just giving Peter time to cool off and maybe some time for himself to think through it all.
"Soul mates," Wade mutters under his breath, looking out towards the water painted horizon behind the city buildings. Peter could find him here if he wanted, being that sitting on the edge of rooftops isn’t exactly unfamiliar for them.
Wade had never been meant to have another half, he’s too impulsive and selfish for that. Even now he can’t go face his Bond Mate because he’s better off avoiding any conflict entirely. He thinks about leaving, just disappearing from the city entirely and letting Peter start over. He knows that there will be an ache, something wrenching and painful, being separated from him, but he wonders if it’s better than it is now.
Another hour passes with Wade watching the sky turn navy, lights flickering on throughout the city, before he hears him come and sit down next to him. He’s suited up, the burned name on his wrist hidden from view, but his mannerisms scream nervousness with the way he fidgets and rocks. Wade almost makes a bad joke but finds himself biting his tongue when Peter simply lays his head against his shoulder.
"You still mad at me?" Wade asks, tilting his head a little so that it’s pressed against the younger’s.
Peter nods against his shoulder. “Yeah. But it’s not worth you leaving me over.”
"This is hard," Wade laughs, the words spilling out of his mouth without any kind of filter. He finds himself doing that more with him, like it’s easy for all these barriers to crumble down and let the emotions pour out. Wade wants to gather them all back up, swallow the feelings away instead of letting anyone know what he barely wants to acknowledge.
"You’re my Bond Mate, Wade," Peter starts, voice soft, "I convinced myself I didn’t even want a soul mate because I didn’t want to get tied down. And then you showed up and everything has just been monumentally shifted and it’s scary."
"I can’t even keep a goldfish alive and now the universe is telling me to take care of this kid who I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life. I fucking break everything, Peter."
"I don’t think you’ll break me," Peter says thoughtfully, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, "I just think we need to realize that this isn’t easy and we have to try. We can’t just expect it to happen."
There’s so much optimism despite his history. It’s only more proof that Peter deserves so much better than Wade, that he’s this shining light of everything good and Wade’s only going to be the force that snuffs him out. But he doesn’t tell him that, he doesn’t tell him that he’s sorry that it’s him and not someone like Gwen. If anything, he owes it to Peter to at least try for a while.
He reaches over, grabbing Peter’s wrists and pushes the fabric of his sleeve up enough that he can feel the raised skin, tracing the scar with the pad of his finger like he can reassure himself that this isn’t a mistake. Peter lets him, watching his fingers trail across his skin silently, and he wishes that he could still show Peter how the inky black flowed over his skin, how the letters twisted and curved. It could have been something to be proud of, at one time.
But Peter doesn’t seem to mind, at one point whispering to him about the city view and focal points, all of the things about photography Wade doesn’t understand. It’s part of Peter, though, the person he wants to know, and so he listens, pressing the pad of his fingers against the ‘W’ over his pulse.