Work Text:
A pair of scarred palms grazed over the edge of a countertop that was basically overflowing with leftover food, takeout containers, half-finished bottles of water, and other different beverages ranging from alcoholic death traps to sippy cup-esque juices. A quiet sigh left Wade’s lips as he quietly started to clean around the so-called kitchen. As he began to throw different containers into an overstuffed bin, his mind was still racing from the dreams that kept occupying the basement of his memories. The man reached a point where he didn’t even remember the specifics of his dreams, all he knew was the general topic of them and the sweat accumulating at the back of his head anytime his eyes opened a bit too quickly and his heart had a weird, quickened pace. Usually, he’d try to go right back to sleep as if they were just dreams anyway but not when anytime he turned around, he saw the angelic face sleeping right next to him, safe and sound, hugging a pillow against his chest. That sight was enough to make him get up on his feet almost every time and pretend that it wasn’t 3 a.m. in the morning and that it was totally normal to start cleaning around the house.
Another emotionally heavy sigh made Wade’s lips part. Hands coming down to the drawstrings of his loose pants he slept in, tying them up a little firmer around the prominent, scarred hipbones before tippy tapping quietly into the living room area and sliding open a window. The cold, nightly air filled his lungs in an instant, the autumn weather slapped his face without any mercy, and considering his sleeping garment consisted of just the pajama pants and nothing else, he should not been climbing up to sit on the windowsill, bare feet hanging from the height that would definitely break a few bones of his if he’d fallen down. Visible puffs of air were leaving his lips, hoping that the rattle of guilt in his heart and brain would get drowned off by the traffic outside. Such early morning hours and New York’s traffic were the exact same as during the daylight, maybe just a smidge more opportunities for people to walk between the cars when crossing the road at places they shouldn’t, just because they are indeed in a hurry and this was the fastest way. An occasional honk of a car that slowly drove Wade irrationally annoyed, what if that constant honking will wake Peter up? Assholes, so inconsiderate.
„I told you to wake me up next time.”
Wade’s upper body twisted to the side to see the sleepy boy approaching him, yawning like a big lion and wrapped burrito-style in a fluffy, baby blue blanket that Peter brought from his home to Wade’s, almost as if he wanted to claim the living space with something of his own too. The man was infatuated by the gorgeous sight he had as the outdoor lamps were shining bright enough to enlighten the flushed face of his baby boy, his hair sticking into all sorts of directions, the so-called fringe sticking up too and Wade was considering his thoughts bordering between purely sadistic and cannibalistic because he truly wanted to eat Petey alive.
„And I told you that you need your beauty sleep, bug boy.” Wade was quick to ping-pong these arguments back and forth with Peter and he was also ready to do this all night if it convinced the boy that he truly does need a more stable sleeping schedule.
„I don’t want you to feel alone.” The boy yawned as he rather elegantly climbed his way on the windowsill as well, seating himself right next to Wade. It was a tight, cramped space and his whole side was pressed against Wade’s until a strong, muscly arm wrapped around those much more slender shoulders of the younger boy, making their seating more comfortable.
„Aw, aren’t you so cute worrying about the ol’ me!” Wade cooed out loud in a joking matter, clearly putting on a facade to ease the worry resting on Petey's mind.
„Wade, cut it out.”
„I am serious!”
„No, you’re not.”
A third sigh of the night went past Wade’s parted lips.
„You can be so relentless sometimes, Spidey.” The mercenary’s voice dropped down, at least in the faked, cheery tone, coming out more sincere and quite frankly much sadder than before. And even though it broke Peter’s heart to see and hear the man struggling like that, a part of him was grateful for how far Wade had come with talking about his issues. Couldn’t be applied to Peter, though.
„I know, I am sorry.” Peter’s head lowered to rest his temple against Wade’s collarbone, his eyes just watching over the traffic of the city getting heavier and heavier the longer they stayed up.
„I don’t think I am able to forget her, Peter.”
Peter smiled, sincerely.
„I don’t think you should forget her.”
„How am I supposed to peacefully move on when every dream about her makes me feel like I am cheating on you, on her, on the fucking universe.” The longer Wade talked, the less sense he was making in both of their ears, the statements making Peter chuckle, it was no happy chuckle, though.
„Wade, just because she is gone it doesn’t mean your feelings will disappear too. We’ve talked about this, you loved her so much and all of this is all the unexpressed love you couldn’t give her in time. It’s okay, we’re okay.” Without much noticing, Peter’s fingers were playing with Wade’s hand which was lifelessly resting in his lap. Not only it was visually amusing to Spidey to see the clear difference in the size of their hands, but also the textures but it primarily occupied his racing mind. Just folding and straightening each digit of his fingers, hearing an occasional crack of the older man’s joints. Such a grandpa.
„I don’t like when you Dumbledore-analyze me.” The man joked quietly, feeling the flood of mild peacefulness rushing into his mind. Peter was right, deep down he knew he was right and he could only be so grateful for the boy’s rationality and understanding. Yet the ache was there still, piercing through his beating heart, wishing he could give Peter more, more of his love, more of the current love he felt towards him but it was truly occupied by someone else. And he loved the boy so much, he loved him so incredibly much and he did occupy the majority of his heart. It wasn’t enough though, it wasn’t enough in Wade’s eyes. Maybe because he believed that Peter deserved the whole world, he deserved peace of quiet, he deserved somebody who’s not hiding anything in front of him, somebody who is simple enough for Peter to not worry or to feel that he constantly needs to save someone or something. He is just a boy, after all, and Wade suffered under the pressure of knowing he can’t give all of this to him, to his bug boy, to his Spidey boy. Because he was, in fact, the complete opposite of simple. He was a fucking Enigma machine.
„I just wish I could offer you more than that,” Wade spoke in such a different tone. A tone that Peter probably had never heard before and those words sank deep into the core of the boy’s bones.
„There’s no such thing. Not to mention we never promised each other anything, right?”
„No, but I really like you, Peter.” Wade’s confession made shivers run up and down the younger boy’s back. It wasn’t the first time he heard such words but it may have been the first time he heard those in such a melancholic state. They were bone-chilling, core-crushing, ringing in Peter’s ears like a church bell that seemed to never stop its loud noise.
The mercenary’s gaze was locked on the traffic the entire time, processing that slowly easing out heavy feeling, like an elephant foot pushing against his chest, and with his baby boy’s company, he felt it slowly easing out and lifting off. But only then he could feel a pair of warm lips pressing into his a bit sunken, scarred cheek with the slightest of pressure. Just that simple gesture made his heart skip a beat, as it always did whenever Peter showed any type of affection towards him out of the blue. And lately, it has been more than frequent and Wade couldn’t have been happier about it. Simple things like Petey's hand wrapping around his wrist occasionally when walking outside, hidden in their suits and out of sight from the general audience, or snuggling into his chest while watching the Kardashians on TV. Peter’s choice of evening entertainment, not Wade’s.
His head turned towards his boy, the humanization of a light at the end of the tunnel, his little bug boy. Wade knew Peter wasn’t the most comfortable with expressing his feelings, finding it hard, weird, and almost awkward. He gave him a sincere smile, his arm that was hanging around those slender shoulders bent at the elbow, fingers brushing through the brown nest of hair of Peter’s before bringing his head a bit closer just so that Wade could plant a gentle kiss on his forehead in return.
And he could totally feel Spidey smiling.
„So, do you want to go back inside and maybe kiss until the sunrise?” Peter offered with a sheepish smile, lifting his head up to face Wade a little bit better after that forehead kiss.
„Don’t you have college in like, what, four hours and you still want to kissy-kissy the night away?”
The younger boy’s eyebrow went up in a questioning manner.
„Are you turning down my proposal? What a shame.” The younger one's voice was clearly just messing around with Wade and the other man knew it, somehow, kind of but as soon as Peter stood up on the windowsill with so much elegance and stability before swinging himself back inside the dark, rather gloomy living room, Wade was ready to follow him in a heartbeat.
„Nope, nah, nu-uh, definitely not.” The merc quickly mumbled before turning back into the living room himself with way less elegance and dexterity in his moves, as he was always on the clunkier side, shutting the window closed before tiptoeing after that blanket burrito.
Peter’s little taps of bare feet against the dusty floor, leading Wade into their shared bedroom, was making him almost too excited, too giggly. The boy couldn’t even sit down or get cuddled under blankets into their warm, sleep nest before Wade’s hands were all over Spidey again, tearing that fluffy blanket away from his shoulders as he picked him up into his arms, hands squishing the underside of Peter’s bare thighs, kneading them almost, making little cat-wade biscuits against the squish.
„There he is, the Wade I know.” Peter was close to purring as his arms wrapped around those broad, strong shoulders that he secretly drooled over, palms brushing against Wade’s back, just barely feeling them move under the tips of his fingers.
„Are you saying you don’t like the other Wade? What about the rest of Wades? The psycho one, the horny one, the junkie on-”
„Hush.”
The merc couldn’t finish his rant when his lips were occupied by Peter’s much softer ones, reflecting the vibe of the kisses as well, just very soft, gentle, barely there perhaps but enough to shush down the constantly talking man. It worked so well on Wade’s brain too, the critters inside were getting quieter and quieter the longer he felt every brush of those lips against his own, luring him in like a siren’s singing, Peter is the sea and his lips and kisses were the most enchanting song in the universe.
With a few more steps, Wade made it to their love nest, sitting himself down cross-legged while planting Petey right on top of his own lap, his crossed legs. Hands slithering up the boy’s sides, his plump ass and not forgetting to give them an owning squeeze, strong enough for Peter’s spine to straighten and sit his hips back a little bit. Wade’s palms continued the journey upwards, ruffling that oversized t-shirt hanging on the other boy’s body, pulling it up with his hands before reaching the pretty flushed face of Peter’s, cupping his cheeks just to deepen the kisses, the Wade-style. But even though the kisses were much more to his usual liking now, he was still unusually soft and gentle with the boy seated on him, savoring every inch of his whole being, scarred palms roaming all around the slender frame and noticing every little bump, scar or healing wound on Spide's body.
„Wade.” A simple whisper, a broken whisper of his name by the prettiest of voices, and his messed-up soul was shaken by the tone, the little break in the middle of his name when Peter’s voice cracked in a bit of a higher pitch, fucking god, that was Wade’s hell and heaven at the same time.
„Don’t say my name like that, baby boy.” This time even Wade was losing control of his voice, words coming out a little strained before his palms ended on Petey's hips, those prominent bones sticking out enough for him to feel, even through the thin fabric of his boxers as it was the only thing that was covering one of the most interesting parts of the boy’s body, in Wade’s eyes.
„Why not?” Peter breathed out, his lips parting just enough for the merc's tongue to get a taste of the inner seam of them.
Fuck, the boy was sinful, playing with a facade of pure innocence and Wade wanted to take that away from him. He knew the young hero was far from being innocent, as proven in the last few weeks, nights to be exact, yet he loved to play around with a dumb, not-knowing persona. A persona that drained Wade’s patience and control in a single second and without any further thoughts given to it, he’d have a sobbing, begging Peter pushed into the pillows when pleads would be just rolling off that drooling mouth.
Without even noticing, those scarred palms were tightening their hold on Spidey's much more fragile hipbones, tight enough for his own hand to grasp the right wrist, as if he tried to be in control in case Wade lost it completely.
„Because… Our time is running out.”
Suddenly, the slowly escalating kisses disappeared into thin air.
„You had to quote Muse right now?”
„It’s a sick band baby, I told you a bazillion times!”
„Forget it!” The boy quickly escaped the bone-crushing hold of those two palms, rolling off Wade’s rather comfortable lap and sinking deeper into his side of the bed, slipping under the warm blankets.
„You can’t push it underground!”
The corners of Peter’s mouth started to twitch as he watched a grown man singing his heart out.
“You can’t stop it screaming out!”
Eventually, the boy who had settled into bed burst into one of the most intoxicating laughs Wade had ever heard. That laugh itself was enough for the mercenary to turn towards him, his hands attacking Peter’s stomach, tickling him away just to keep that laugh going. If he had to describe that sound in colors, it would probably be a full explosion of the warmest of colors, like one of the warm days in autumn, the sun being the most golden it has ever been through the entire year and you are just sitting on a bench, letting the last sunrays hit your face and for a second you think that life is good, life is worth living, even if in Wade’s universe it meant eternally. If he gets to hear that laugh for the time being, for the time Peter is by his side, he will endure eternity. And deep down he knew, he hoped, he truly hoped that he would get to laugh so sincerely like this with Peter too, again in his never-ending life.