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“Movie night!” Wade’s cheery voice poured out of the speaker and flooded the room. “How amped are you?”
Peter threw his pyjamas into his duffel bag. His nighttime clothes consisted of a faded t-shirt and a pair of comfy sweatpants. “Oh, completely. More amped than is healthy or advised.”
“Good. I got snacks, drinks, now all I need is for you to hustle your butt to Casa de Deadpool.”
“I’m about to head out. See you soon.”
Wade greeted him at the door of the duplex. It was nice to see that he was unmasked. They both were. There weren’t a lot of people who Peter would show his face to, but Wade made the cut. He immediately snatched Peter’s gym bag off him and insisted on carrying it into the house. Considering that Peter was far stronger than Wade, the gesture was unnecessary. At least Wade hadn’t carried Peter into the house this time.
He was also pleased to see Wade had attempted to clean his living space. The floor was only partially hidden by junk. And he’d finally got rid of the leaning tower of pizza — Peter’s name for the pile of old pizza boxes that had been stacked up in the corner.
“Where’s Al?”
“She’s having poker night with her friends. It’s just gonna be you and me, Webs.”
Peter threw himself down on the couch. “Cool.”
Wade busied himself with the TV. “We’re watching the Back To The Future trilogy because I’m horrified you ain’t seen it yet. It’s a classic. It’s got jokes, time travel, stunts, cute dog. And a twenty-something-year-old Michael J. Fox, rawr.”
Wade distributed the snacks between them. Chips, candy, bottles of soda. Then, the two of them settled down to watch.
As the credits rolled, Peter stretched, throwing his arms over his head. The bones in his back clicked and he groaned.
“You okay?” Wade was shoveling handfuls of popcorn in his mouth. Peter eyed him enviously. He never had to worry about backaches, his healing power was that good.
“Yeah. I was up late last night studying, and I was sitting at my desk. I shouldn’t slouch, it makes my back hurt.”
“Old man.” Wade wiped his hands on his jeans and turned to him. “I can give you a backrub — if you want? If you don’t think it’s too weird?”
Peter considered it. His initial instinct was to say No, it’s not weird. Why would it be weird? Sure, they were both men and guys don’t typically act that touchy-feely with each other. But he and Wade had a very physical friendship. They would hug, roughhouse, chase each other along the Manhattan rooftops. Considering the fact that Peter was a mutate with spider powers and Wade was an immortal mercenary, there was a lot about them that was already weird.
“Thanks. That would be nice.” He rolled his tee up over his midriff. “But wash your hands first.”
Peter perched on the edge of his seat, with his shirt hiked up. There was something vulnerable about baring your back to another person. He kept his shirt on, but it was hanging around his neck, the empty armholes dangling against his chest. He could hear Wade off to the side, squeezing a good dollop of lotion into his palm.
“Remind me why I agreed to this.”
“Because you’re hunched over like an old dude. Here, you can watch the movie while I do it.” He handed him the remote with his non-oily hand. Peter hit play.
“You know, Biff kind of reminds me of this guy from my old school, Flash Thompson—” he said, and jumped as Wade’s hand landed slap-bang between his shoulder blades.
“Where’s the pain?”
“Um, just, focus there, where you are right now,” Peter told him. He tried to keep his gaze trained on the screen.
Wade was sat beside him, so close that his thigh was pressed against Peter’s. He grabbed Peter’s shoulder with a slippery hand. “So, Flash. He was a jerk?”
“Y-yeah.” Wade’s hands slipped up and down his back, until he decided to concentrate on one area. He massaged Peter’s shoulders with strong fingers, digging into knots of muscle until Peter was shivering.
“Damn, you’re so tight. Do you ever go for massages?”
“...no…”
“You should.”
Wade was strong. His firm hands kneaded the meat of Peter’s shoulders and back, until his skin felt flushed and tingling. The oil made it slippery, soothed away any friction. Their two bodies rocked together, Peter’s skin sliding under Wade’s hands.
Wade must have done this before. Many times. Peter knew that before his diagnosis, Wade had been a bit of a social butterfly. He’d enthusiastically pursued men and women alike. Peter had never asked him about his dating history, he didn’t want to pry. He was sure that Wade would tell him if he asked but… He didn’t want to give his friend false hope.
Yeah, Peter knew. He’d seen the way Wade looked at him. Sure, Wade flirted with everybody — or tried to — but it was different with Spider-Man. There was the intention. Wade wasn’t firing off generic compliments. He meant what he said. And things had changed. Ever since that cult of creepy schoolgirls had tried to summon Wade’s demon ex-wife. A spell to summon Wade’s heartmate. But it had summoned Peter instead…
Their friendship had been irrevocably altered after that event. Not that either of them had mentioned it. But there was a new element in there, some wedge of emotion that could disrupt the easy camaraderie that they shared.
Sometimes, Wade would go quiet. His babbling chatter would fade to nothing, and he’d seem like he was almost gearing up to say something. But he never told him what was on his mind.
“Careful, gonna go down your ribs now. Are you ticklish?”
“Just a bit,” Peter admitted.
Wade’s fingers had barely touched his sides but Peter was already biting his lip. Giggles bubbled in his throat, threatening to burst out.
“Stop twitching.”
“I’m not.”
Wade huffed impatiently. “Silly boy.”
Peter sucked in a breath, his heart thumping in his chest. Damn it, Wade, why do you have to talk like that? With firm hands pummeling his back and Wade’s burning-hot thigh pressed against his. It was hard to keep a cool head. Every breath felt too brittle to swallow. He sucked in air, and the movement jostled Wade’s hands. They slipped down his ribs to curl around his waist.
“Peter? Sorry, did I hurt you?”
Peter grabbed a couch cushion, tried to make it look like a casual gesture. Was still so casual, even as he dropped it onto his lap. “I’m fine.”
Fuck you, Wade. Why did things have to change between us? Why did everything have to get so muddled?
Wade’s breath was hot, tickling his ear. “You want me to stop? Do you feel better now?”
He...wasn’t sure. He knew that Wade should stop. Should ask him to stop. But Wade’s hands felt so right on his body.
Wade got to his feet, leaving Peter’s side. He instantly felt cold without his hands on his body. He yanked his shirt down over his chest.
“Ready for the next one?” Wade dangled a DVD in front of Peter’s eyes. He nodded, resigned himself to this.
“Sure. Put it in.”
Next week. Peter decided he’d tell him about his feelings next week. Hopefully, he’d have more courage then.