Work Text:
Peter sat on the couch of their apartment, a textbook in hand, watching his boyfriend clean his weapons. Next to his glimmering katanas, was a fossil of a radio, playing Nat King Cole.
“L is for the way you look at me” it sang, Wade hummed to the tune as he wiped over the dried blood splattered on his pistol. “O is for the only one I see,” Peter placed his textbook on the side table and walked over to where Wade sat. He pulled a chair out to sit beside the larger man, tilting his head as he looked at his lover’s face intently.
“V is very, very extraordinary” Wade sang enthusiastically, glancing at the younger man’s big brown eyes. “What`s up, babyboy? Where’d the books disappear?” Wade asked before wiggling his hairless eyebrows. “Little distracted, are we? Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll do anything for yah, except, y’kno-”
Peter laid his hand over one of Wade’s, biting his bottom lip. “C’mon, Wade. Please?” Peter pleaded.
“Petey, you know I can’t dance for shit!” Wade gave a hearty laugh at the sight of his boyfriend attempting to lure him in with his puppy dog impression.
“E is even more than anyone that you adore can,” the radio chanted.
The mercenary paused, blushing under his scarred skin. “Fine!” he grinned, putting down his gun as he got off his chair. Wade let Peter lead him to the middle of the room, slipping his arms around the vigilantes’ waist. “Y’know how people say they’ve got 2 left feet? Well, let me warn you, I’ve got about 69. Hehe, sixty-nine...”
“That was a really fucking bad joke. Jeez, man.” Peter ruffled his own hair, a flush growing on his cheeks.
“Love is all that I can give to you,” Wade continued to grin at his own joke before he noticed Peter’s silence. Peter’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes wide as he stared at him. He took two steps back, two steps forwards, Wade following behind perfectly.
“See! You’re doing fine, you liar!” Peter shouted playfully. Wade looked down at his feet, attempting to avoid the other man’s affectionate gaze that followed the words.
He looks so vulnerable, Peter thought. Peter knew Wade hated this. He knew he hated being so emotionally, so physically visible with Peter so near. Even after that they had been through, Wade was still insecure. Even after all this time, Peter never got tired of loving all of Wade’s insecurities.
“Can we close the curtains?” Wade asked, his voice sounding small as his scars glowed a soft pink in the light of the setting sun.
"Love is more than just a game for two” Peter whispered along into Wade’s ear, smiling. “Two in love can make it.”
“Take my heart and please don't break it,” Wade mumbled back, his words muffled as his face was now buried in the crevice of Peter’s neck. Peter’s heart broke a little. Wade had such low self-esteem, constantly fearful that their relationship was one of his mind’s illusions.
Peter knew this because Wade only said such things to his voices, thinking Peter was asleep or away. There was once an occasion he heard howling one night after a patrol, rushing to see what had happened. Wade as a sobbing mess on their bedroom floor, scratching at his skin in frustration. His nails had dug into his scars, blood appearing for mere seconds before the wounds healed. The only words he would utter once he had calmed down were “Please, stop it. Stop doing this to me. He’s too beautiful, he’s made of dreams. I’m a bad person, I’m a fucking monster. This will hurt so fucking much. I don’t want to wake up.”
Peter had never heard Wade speak like that. It was so, out of character. It was painful to watch someone he loved so much, feel the exact opposite about themselves.
After the incident, Peter always tried to prove the voices inside Wade’s mind wrong. He tried to convince them that Wade was worthy of his love and so much more, because he was. He always had been. He always would be. At least, in Peter’s eyes this statement would never change.
“Love was made for me and you,” Peter sang softly, putting his weight on his toes to kiss Wade’s forehead.
Peter soon began kissing every inch of Wade’s face, soft pecks flowering over the damaged skin.
“Love was made for me and you…” the words repeated until they faded into the background as the two men danced into the evening.