Work Text:
Wade hummed as he danced around the kitchen to whatever song was running through his head at the moment. He perked up when he heard the bedroom door open and glanced over. “Morning, Baby Boy,” he chirped. “Have a good night Spider-Manning?”
Peter grumbled and made a beeline for the coffee pot, which Wade had made sure would be ready when he woke up. His brain finally came online after two-thirds of the cup was gone. “Morning, Wade,” he returned, pressing a kiss to Wade’s cheek when he danced by again. “It was a good night.” He watched Wade make a few more laps of the kitchen. “Good morning for you?”
“I have a job,” Wade said cheerfully, “I’ve gotta head out soon, but I wanted to see your beautiful face before I left.”
Peter laughed and set his mug on the counter before pulling Wade in for a proper kiss. “Well, in that case,” he said, pulling back. “Have fun.” Peter left to go back to their bedroom. “I’m getting dressed for work,” he called over his shoulder. “No visitors.”
Wade pouted, though he knew Peter couldn’t see it, and finished getting ready to go.
He’d never been to Latveria before; he’d have to bring Peter back a good souvenir.
Wade stared down at the body, stared down at the lump of flesh and bone that used to be Peter Parker. He didn’t even have the energy in himself to weep.
“Now, look what you’ve done,” a voice that used to call to Wade in the most seductive ways hissed behind Wade. “Look at the monster you’ve become.”
“Me?” Wade turned on the figure with incredulity. “At the monster I have become? My Lady,” Oh, how Wade wanted to curse her out, but he knew how she liked that, liked how insouciant and familiar he was with her. Now, though, in this moment, she didn’t get that. “I am the monster you made me.” He fell to the floor, dropping the gun from his hand, the gun he’d…no, he couldn’t think about that, not with Lady Death so close. “I thought I had learned.” But then Peter, sweet, lovable, so very real Peter had stumbled into his life, and it was all over for him. He hadn’t felt so alive, so himself, since Vanessa’s death.
Wade glared up at Lady Death, who dogged his steps every day, but not normally quite so visibly. “What else do you want, My Lady?” he asked, voice sharp and bitter. “What else do I have for you to take?”
“Oh, Wade,” she sighed, leaning forward and brushing her fingers lightly over his jaw. His skin ached with cold where she touched him. “When will you learn?” She lowered her hood so Wade could see into her skeletal eyes, could see every death from the dawn of time, until the heat death of the universe in them, before she broke the gaze. “That you are mine?” She touched Peter’s body, and he crumbled into nothing in Wade’s grasp. “And nobody else will ever have you, pet.”
Lady Death turned on her heel and vanished, leaving Wade with not even a drop of blood to remember his second lost love by.