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It’s just a game. One Peter is determined to win against Wade.
What started as a casual ask for Wade to stop hitting on him constantly while on patrol has turned into a full on competition. First to speak to the other loses. Winner can punish the loser however they see fit. Not that the punishment Wade has in mind is actually that bad.
Peter is one of those guys who doesn’t tend to think about all of the dirty little ideas Wade might have when coming up with his games. It’s only after they both agree, and it starts, that Peter’s able to wrangle his thoughts and realize what he’s gotten himself into.
The loud huff he gives while sitting on the edge of the rooftop with Wade is acknowledgement enough. Muggy air seeps through his suit, and the smell of New York fills his nostrils like every other day. It’s quiet for a while. Too quiet for Wade’s liking. The usual sounds of the streets isn’t enough to silence the voices in his head.
To drown some of it out, he walks along the edge of the building; from the corner back to Peter. The city that never sleeps provides him with enough light to see every step along the edge. Each stride Wade takes towards him enhances the small details of his suit, as well as how good he looks in it. Every crease accentuating the magnificent build Peter has beneath the stretchy fabric.
Wade can feel his mouth open, which he forces closed with some difficulty. If he wants to win the game, he has to play his cards right. It’s not the hardest thing in the world to trick his boy into losing, but on occasion all his attempts fail him.
The few times he has lost have ended with him paying for food for a week, cleaning Peter’s whole apartment, and buying—actually stealing, but Peter doesn’t need to know that—some resources Peter wasn’t able to get his hands on.
Usually, Wade wins, and chooses a rather lame reward for himself instead of an actual punishment for Peter. Today is the day he changes these little games. It’s time for an actual punishment. He’s given Peter too many outs with punishments.
It’s a rather quiet night. Wade is getting antsy, and just wants to open his big mouth to tell the hot as fuck man sitting on the rooftop that he would do very unspeakable things to him. He reaches for his gun, just to fire a warning shot near Peter, but his head whips to look at him just as he can feel the metal beneath his gloved hand.
An outstretched hand with a finger held up towards him, Wade pauses. Not for long, because he pulls the gun from its holster and aims it behind Peter and fires at just the right angle that it should just hit one of the walls surrounding the rooftop. Well, he thinks about it, but a sound stops him.
“What are you doing?!” Peter yells at him.
Victory has never sounded so sweet. Wade snickers to himself, putting the gun back in its holster so he can point not just one, but both pointer fingers at him mockingly.
“Trying to scare you into yelling so you would lose. Guess my little plan worked better than I thought!” Wade gives himself a small round of applause as Peter puts his masked face in his hands with a groan.
“You were about to randomly shoot a gun on a rooftop, what else am I gonna do?!”
Wade shrugs. “Figure it out I guess? You’re the one with Spidey senses, not me,” he ends with a hand against his chest.
Peter stands from his seated position on the ledge and hops down onto the rooftop, kicking at the small concrete pieces that have broken off over time.
“Whatever. What’s my punishment?”
The smirk on Wade’s face beneath his mask as he rubs his hands together in anticipation could be considered sinister. In fact, it sort of is, but that doesn’t mean that Peter didn’t ask for it when he brought up this game.
Wade hops down to follow him, taking calculated steps while humming to himself. Taking an armless chair out from its place at a table about 20 feet away to sit in it, facing Peter, and tapping his lap expectantly.
“Your punishment awaits.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I know. But your ass is about to get spanked for thinking you could win this one.”
Peter stops his approach three feet away from Wade. Like the words have stolen his breath and released his soul from his body.
“Excuse me?” He asks, softly, but tinged with anger.
“You heard me,” Wade says louder than last time. “Loser gets spanked,” Wade taps his left leg again,”…bend over and take it like a man, Spidey.” The growing silence makes Peter's ears feel hot, and he swears he can hear a ringing in them reverberating from the last slap of Wade’s hand to his knee. His whole body feels warm, and his heart beats harder in his chest at the thought of Wade bending him over his lap.
This wasn’t even in the realm of possible punishments he thought Wade might choose.
“Like almost all our punishments until now have been some act of service or just stuff for the other. We never agreed to have them be physical!” Peter argues. He knows Wade will find a way around it. Even when he does, at least he can say he attempted to avoid getting spanked on a rooftop on a random night after playing a stupid game with Wade. Not that he would offer that kind of information up to anyone willingly. It’s for his own peace of mind.
Wade tsks at him. “We never agreed they wouldn’t be physical either. Plus, what’s a swat to the ass?”
“It’s just weird, alright?”
“You’re the one making this weird. All you have to do is bend over and take it for like 30 seconds and then we’re done.” Wade stops to think for a second. “Well, however long I think it takes to get the point across y’know?”
Peter’s eyes widen beneath his mask, and his thoughts race. He just has to lean across Wade’s lap and take some hits. It’s totally doable, and Wade has muscle, but he’s not as strong as some of the people he’s fought. Wade would go easy enough on him that it won’t hurt too bad, right?
“You’re sure you want to do this instead of asking me to pay you back for anything? Or so I can do something for you?” Peter tries. It’s a long shot.
“Sure as shit Spidey. Now get over here.” Wade taps his leg again, but harder. He’s too excited to actually do it to consider Peter’s offer. Honestly, he’s been thinking about using this punishment for so long the fantasies about how it might go have bubbled up since he sat down.
There was a dream he once had where he bent Peter over his lap while at home, and afterwards they-Wade shakes the thought from his head and mumbles to himself to get it together, otherwise he’s going to get fully hard and then it’ll really be weird.
Peter chews at his bottom lip beneath his mask, ripping at the cracked skin so much he can taste the familiar tang of iron in his mouth. Reluctantly, he walks over to Wade and stands there awkwardly at his side for a moment before laying himself across Wade’s lap. Settling into it as best he can.
Head and arms dangling from one side with his crotch pressed against Wade’s thigh. Peter can hear the small hums of joy, and the sound of him rubbing his hands together yet again.
Wade just can’t help himself.
He places one hand between Peter’s shoulder blades, rubbing his thumb in small circles. Not that he can feel much through his gloves, or expect Spidey to feel much through his own suit. The other hand touches Peter’s right cheek, and rests there, doing the same thing.
“Could you just get on with it? I don’t want you rubbing my ass for no reason…”
“Whoa-oa Spidey. Getting antsy I see,” Wade comments, giving Peter a light tap against his ass. He’s tense. “Just relax, otherwise it’ll hurt worse than it has to… Unless that’s the goal.”
Peter lets his eyes close as he takes a deep breath. Focusing on the feeling of his lungs as the air rushes in. Letting his body fully relax for what feels like the first time in days. With his eyes closed, and the movement of Wade’s thumb against his back, he swears he could fall asleep in seconds.
Wade removes his hand from Peter’s ass and brings it back down quickly. The smacking sound of his glove against Peter’s suit is more of a thump than a slap. Peter’s body jolts, and he tenses, legs moving inward and his upper body doing the same as a dull ache spreads from the point of contact.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Wade points out. Before Peter can respond, he pulls his arm back farther, putting more force into the second smack. The sound louder, and the pain more of a jolt to Peter’s body.
“Whatever…” he breathes. Focusing on his breathing as he struggles to keep himself relaxed. No way he’d fall asleep now. The heat radiating from Wade’s points of contact and the thudding in his chest making sure of it.
The spanking doesn’t take long in Wade’s mind, but to Peter, it feels like an eternity. Each smack seems louder and harder than the one before. The heat spreads through his body as the ache travels to his lower back. Sneaking its way to his front. At least Wade is changing cheeks every few hits.
The hits shift his position in Wade’s lap just enough to generate some sense of friction. Peter can feel himself getting hard. His dick pressing against Wade’s thigh, and a small amount of wetness on the inside of his suit.
No way does Peter enjoy this.
He chews at his lip harder, only now it’s to quiet himself. Letting out frustrated breaths through his nose as he thinks about anything besides Wade punishing him on a rooftop because of some stupid game he suggested.
Wade would normally be mouthing off like crazy. Shoving the win in Peter’s face, but he’s focusing on the way Peter is responding to him. His touch.
Trying to ignore the fact he can feel something pressing against his thigh that was not there when Peter so graciously laid across his lap. Chewing on his tongue so hard it bleeds. The pain keeps his own mind in check so Peter’s doesn’t have to feel Wade’s dick pressing into him. Not like this.
Wade’s not that kind of guy.
Instead, the second he can feel his sense of self slipping and the thoughts growing too loud, he stops.
“Punishment, completed.”
Two light taps to both of Peter’s still fully clothed-unfortunately- cheeks. He doesn’t get a chance to touch him much more.
Peter gets up, instantly turning away from Wade and rushing to the edge of the rooftop. Jumping so he’s standing on the ledge, unable to face Wade still sitting behind him. It’s days like today he regrets making his suit skin tight. Every nook and cranny fully exposed. The solid outline of his erection there for anyone to see.
Wade’s displeasure at his sudden departure isn’t visible, but he understands. Some part of him just wishes that he might stay. Even invite him back to his apartment for once so they can actually talk.
Or they could stay on this rooftop and do more than talk. See where all the tension finally takes them.
“I’m gonna call it a night. See ya,” he rushes. Shooting a web to a nearby rooftop and disappearing into the night. Keeping himself turned away and out of general eyesight as much as possible on his way home.
Once he’s there he’ll either take a cold shower to calm himself down, or maybe he’ll just jerk off because it’s what he really needs to do. He can’t remember the last time he did it. Only this time, he’ll be thinking about how good it felt when Wade spanked him. How maybe he wants Wade to do it again and more.