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Slowly, Peter slipped Wade’s mask over his face. Underneath was a mass of scars, sores, and cracks. It looked painful. Wade’s blue eyes stayed on Peter’s brown ones while he held his usually mobile mouth rigid.
“Do…uh…do the cracks in your skin ever get infected?” Peter asked.
Wade blinked and pulled back.
“It’s, uh, it’s OK. You don’t have to touch it.” He made a grab for his mask, and Peter shoved it behind his back.
Wade gave Peter’s half-assed attempt at keep-away a judgmental look. “You don’t have any siblings, do you?” he said.
“Uh, no,” said Peter. He grimaced and held the mask out for Wade to take. “Sorry, you can put that back on if you want, but…”
Wade took the mask back. He put back on the mask of jollity he usually wore under the material mask, and started arranging the fabric in his hands. “It’s OK, baby brother,” he teased.
Peter’s whole body cringed. “Ugh. That was not the relationship I had in mind for us.”
Wade stopped what he was doing.
“I want to touch your skin,” said Peter. “With my lips…and tongue. Well, and hands, too, obviously. I want to touch all of you with all of me. But I don’t want to hurt you.”
Wade gave him a fond smile. “I don’t need a pity kiss, Petey-boy.”
“Yeah…” said Peter. “Not a pity kiss. And maybe don’t call me nicknames that emphasize our age difference?”
“Whaaat?!” said Wade, “Teasing you about what an itsy-bitsy baby spider you are is, like, foundational to our friendship!”
“Wade,” said Peter, taking a step back. “Wade, I want you to picture a hypothetical. Got your picturing goggles on? Alright.”
Peter took a step forward with a big grin. He waved excitedly, in an exaggeration of his usual friendly neighborhood Spider-man persona.
“Hey, Captain America!” he said, addressing Wade. “Good to see you again. Hey, I know that when I’m suited up, I still look and sound like the eighteen-year-old twink I was a decade ago, and you probably think that’s who I still am, but I actually am a for-real grown-up.” Peter gestured at the empty air to his right. “This is my boyfriend, Deadpool. He’s a known murderer who’s got a good six inches of height on me, and about eighty pounds of muscle. He’s visibly older than I am, and he calls me ‘baby boy.’”
“Boyfriend?” said Deadpool.
“Wade,” said Peter, “I am not introducing you to Captain America as my fuck buddy. That is not going to happen. I am not saying ‘fuck buddy’ to Captain America.”
“F-fuck…”
“Wade,” said Peter, framing Wade’s face with his hands. “Just fucking kiss me already.”
Wade kissed him, scarred lips on full, plump ones. Peter sighed into the kiss, eyes closed.
Wade pulled back. “So…I guess Captain America is going to kill me,” he said.
“Not if I can help it,” said Peter, opening his eyes and giving Wade a look of exasperation, “But I would like you to not make my job harder.”
“Worth it,” said Wade, leaning back down for another kiss. “Itty-bitty baby spider,” he murmured into Peter’s mouth.
“Wade.”
“Teeny little spidey-pie.”
“Wade.”
“Precious little larval grub.”
Peter pulled back, “Annnd. We’re down.” He looked down. “All the way down. I’m as soft as a marshmallow in a car in July.”
“Wait, were we not down before?”
“You didn’t get close enough to find out,” said Peter.
“No, wait! I’m sorry! I want to find out!”
Peter raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll be good.”
Peter raised his eyebrows higher.
“I’ll try to be good.”
Peter sighed and stepped closer, grasping Wade’s shoulders to pull himself up on his toes and kissing the corner of Wade’s mouth.
“Your skin, Wade,” he said.
Wade grimaced. “Yeah?”
“Will I cause an infection if I get saliva in the cracks in your skin?”
“Ohhhh,” said Wade. “No.”
“What should I do to avoid hurting you?”
“Baby boy,” said Wade, picking Peter up. Peter automatically wrapped his legs around Wade’s hips. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to me that I wouldn’t like. I’m kinda like Uncle Fester like that.”
“New rule!” said Peter. “You don’t get to talk during sexy times. Not at all.”
Wade chuckled. “Good luck enforcing that rule.”
“Watch me,” said Peter.
Wade blew a raspberry at him.
Peter webbed his mouth shut.
“Hm hm mf mm hm hm,” said Wade.
Peter sighed and got out the solvent.
“What?” he asked, when he was done wiping the webs away.
“You can’t kiss me with my mouth covered up like that,” said Wade.
Peter started to wriggle to get down.
“No! No! I’m sorry! I’ll be good!” Wade pleaded.
Peter put his pointer finger under Wade’s chin and looked into his eyes. “Will you?”
“Oh,” Wade grinned. “You wanna play it like that? I’m in. I can always be good for you…sir.”
Peter shivered. He dove in to kiss Wade, gently biting and pulling at his lower lip. Wade opened up, and Peter stroked Wade’s tongue with his own. Wade shifted Peter’s weight to one arm and freed the other hand to start kneading Peter’s ass.
Peter broke the kiss to take in a shuddering breath.
“Wait,” said Wade. “Wait. Can you not breathe while we’re kissing?”
“What?” said Peter.
“You stopped kissing me to breathe. Was that…like…an aesthetic choice, or can you actually not breathe while we’re kissing?”
“I…uh…”
Wade set Peter on his feet. And then he was tilting Peter’s nose up with his thumb and clicking on a pen light.
“What the..?” said Peter. “You just carry around a pen light?”
“It’s useful.” Wade pressed the pen light into Peter’s hand, pulled out a second pen light, and resumed examining the interior of Peter’s nose.
“Wade?” said Peter.
“You got turbinates like water balloons,” said Wade.
“What?” said Peter.
“Your turbinates. The lumpy bits inside your nose. They’re all swollen up and red. Like angry water balloons. Have you ever tried an anti-histamine?”
“Wade, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Examining your nose, obviously, baby boy.”
“Where did you learn how to do that?”
“Oh, I had to assassinate some Dr. Mengele-style creep a while back. Had to impersonate a whole lot of medical personnel to find him.”
“Impersonate…did you kill anyone?!”
“Yeah, weren’t you listening? I killed the Mengele wannabe.”
“No, I mean while you were impersonating medical personnel.”
“Oh, no. But I did do a whole lot of speed-reading between patients. It was a wild ride!”
“I’ll bet,” said Peter.
“So, who’s your allergist?” said Wade, putting away his pen light.
Peter burst out laughing. “Oh, I don’t remember her name, but she lives next door to my chauffeur.”
Wade frowned. “OK, sugar baby, let’s get you sorted on that front first. And then we can do some more kissing.”
“Sugar—?!”
“Yup. It’s date time. You, me, your laptop, my wallet. Mouth-breathing is not on my list of kinks.”
“Wade!” Peter whined.
Wade leaned down, placing a line of kisses up from the base of Peter’s neck. “Please, sir,” he whispered into the skin behind Peter’s ear.
Peter shivered again. “Alright,” he murmured back.
“Lead on,” said Wade, pointing in the direction of Peter’s apartment…which…he should not know the direction of. But Peter would worry about that later. He hoisted Wade onto his back and webbed where Wade pointed. They had a date.