Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Leaving Peter's apartment after Wade's heat had been common sense. The boxes disagreed, as did Phillip, but Wade knew it had to be done. He couldn't stay there afterwards knowing that he was close to crying without the excuse of his heat and emotional instability to hide behind. 

Peter had shown him a moment of vulnerability, an opportunity, and Wade hadn't taken it. He couldn't have, not during his heat when he knew Peter wasn't really in control of his actions. He couldn't have because it wouldn't have mattered. Omega marks, on the rare occasion that they were allowed, did not stay. Or well, they scarred, but they didn't establish a mating bond. That wasn't how the power dynamics worked and he knew that he could have marked Peter up, but his heat would end and they wouldn't be mates unless Peter did it too. Wade had no guarantee that would happen when they were in their right minds. 

And when his heat was over, Peter didn't offer and Wade didn't think he had any right to ask given that he hadn't taken the shot. 

[You're pitiful. I can't believe-- ] 

White was back to being an asshole and Yellow was ignoring him again. He'd only gonna quiet after the last encounter and that-- Wade didn't have the words to explain that. 

Originally, he'd tried to pretend that their shared cycle was just a one time thing, a friend helping a friend, but then Peter kept looking at him and failing to hide how aroused he was and Wade wasn't strong enough to keep himself at bay forever. He gave in, trying to play it off as casual, trying to do everything in his power to make sure the Alpha enjoyed it because maybe that meant they could do it again and Wade could have more of those precious little moments where he ruined Peter Parker.  

[You're ruining him in more than one way.] 

But that was the thing-- Wade was the one being ruined. He kept fucking himself over every time he went back to Peter because he was giving away pieces of himself and it didn't matter how many times they fucked in public or in Peter's apartment, Peter never showed him the level of vulnerability he had during Wade's heat. He never bared his neck, he never tried to mark Wade or ask if that was something he was interested in because Peter wasn't interested. And that was… painful. 

Wade was used to that, though. So what if he was only allowed midnight blowjobs and a ride after patrol-- it was fine. They still occasionally met up for video games and ate together on patrol. Nothing had changed-- or well. Things had changed for the better. It was more than Wade deserved anyway. 

The safeword had thrown him off. 

He'd snuck into Peter's apartment, intent on surprising him-- not that he thought Peter would be surprised by his appearance, but spontaneous sex! It was fun. Wade had meant it to be fun. 

And then he walked in, saw Peter standing there looking so fucking hot in just his underwear and Wade… lost any cheeky train of thought he had. He wanted all of him, wanted to touch every inch of his skin and feel him-- he'd wanted to claim Peter all to himself and he'd bitten lightly at his skin, just beneath his scent glands because he wanted to taste him . 

Peter had jumped away and safeworded and that was as clear a message as Wade needed really. 

Don't mark me.  

Peter hadn't said anything else over it and Wade almost left, almost broke down with a series of apologies and a needy plea for Peter not to end whatever this was, but Peter smiled at him. It was the shakier smile Wade had ever seen in his life and Peter was trying to let him know they were okay in spite of the boundary Wade crossed and it had been too much. 

Too many emotions, too much of a painful sensation of relief sinking into his bones and making a mess of him and he kissed him. 

That night he let Peter do whatever he wanted, let himself be vulnerable in a way he hadn't even allowed in his heat and it was a mess of warmth and pain at once. Every gentle press of Peter's hands on his skin was too soft, too delicate, a reminder that Wade had everything he wanted in the world in front of him and he wasn't allowed to keep it. He let Peter treat him like he was made of glass, and maybe Peter was onto something because the longer it went on, the more Wade felt himself shattering. 

He'd given up control entirely when he wasn't ready because he'd crossed a boundary and he felt the need to give Peter everything as an apology, every last bit of himself that he'd held onto because he knew if Peter got to have all of him and still didn't want him, he would break apart.  

And he had. 

He'd crawled out of Peter's window the way that had become tradition and tried to contain his wounded scent, rushing to his old house-- still blood-lined and ruined-- just because he knew he couldn't go to Weasel's right then. Ellie had once woken up sick because Wade smelled like a massacre after leaving Peter and Wade hadn't been able to go back there to sleep since. 

He'd been sleeping mostly at his old place, not cleaning it because it wasn't… what was the point if it no longer felt like home?  

Home was Peter and Peter's apartment and Peter's fluffy blankets that Wade would wake up wrapped in on the few occasions where he'd passed out after sex. Home was awkward pancakes in the morning and the comfort of knowing that-- even if he didn't seem to want him-- Peter had never kicked him out. 

[Home is getting your shit together and admitting that he's more to you than sex to get this show on the fucking road. ] 

No. Home was knowing that as long as Wade kept his mouth shut, he would be welcome. 

[Bullshit!] 

Which was becoming increasingly hard to do. 

He'd given everything and it wasn't enough and for a while… Wade avoided Spiderman like the plague. Even the sight of him made something claw at his chest and Wade couldn't handle the proximity when he was hurting. He still texted him, still played online, but… he stopped coming around for patrols, focusing a little on house repairs because he needed a space to call his own again. He'd spent so long wrapped up in what could be with Peter that he'd lost sight of himself and it hurt more every day to be half of a person. 

He kept his distance until his house was alright again, until Yellow came back out of sheer frustration just to say-- 

{I DEMAND THAT WE SEE HIM RIGHT THE FUCK NOW-- } 

"Relax, holy shit, we're going already." 

[About fucking time.] 

Because today Wade felt like if he didn't get to touch Peter again, he might actually kill someone again and he'd been good-- personal avenues excluded-- about not taking lives anymore. 

Tony had even offered him a job, an actual job, and despite his reservations, Wade read the contract and signed. He knew he could go back to living in the Tower if he wanted to, but it just held too many emotional memories for him and he was uncomfortable with the fact that any time he had a visit with death, he would wake up to find the room clean, meaning Tony knew what he'd done. It wasn't home if Wade wasn't held accountable for cleaning up his own blood. It felt too much like a lab or a hospital. 

[Are we going to ignore the fact that you're slowly building bookshelves into the walls to accommodate Peter? Adding extra drawers into the closet space? Remodeling to include a few more blue colors?] 

{You're gonna ask him to move in right? Because why else would you do this--? } 

"Because maybe there's a chance that he'd want that. At some point. Maybe. I… I want to have the place ready. Just in case." 

{THAT COULD HAVE BEEN TWO MONTHS AGO WHEN YOU WALKED OUT OF HIS APARTMENT AGAIN--} 

[Let's be real here, it could have been five months ago when you had a fucking heat session in public and basically announced your fuck buddy status to New York. He said he was taking us home. Are you a fucking idiot--] 

Wade sighed and tucked his mask into his back pocket. He could have worn it, he still wore it when he felt less comfortable… but it was already dark out and people didn't stare and he'd realized that even if Peter had reservations about being with Wade, he still loved looking at him. Wade could feel how pleased he was every time Wade took off the mask. It was something that made Wade's heart swell like the grinch, all three sizes, and it made it difficult for him to stay away. The way Peter dived into him, as if he was ready to drown in him-- Wade couldn't get enough of it and he hated that he didn't have that every day. 

[Your heat's supposed to come at the end of the month again.] 

Wade knew. 

{Are we gonna go off suppressors!? Ask Petey-pie to--} 

He would latch onto his suppressors until they failed him again because he knew a second heat in Peter's arms would be the final straw and Wade didn't have it in him to walk away after that. 

But he was alright. Everything would be okay. He'd managed to keep his distance for a couple months and he no longer felt like he was falling apart so… he could approach Peter again and not fall into his bed right away. 

[Or so you claim.] 

{I will find every single memory of our mouth around his dick and flash them at you like a movie montage, send you into an early preheat, I don't give two fucks anymore-- } 

"I swear to fucking god, we will miss patrol again if I stab myself in the head. Fuck off, Yellow, I don't have time for this--"  

"Woah. Bad time?" 

Wade snapped around, almost straining his neck, and saw Peter standing there, awkwardly running a hand through his hair as he looked at Wade with both relief and concern. 

"Or good time? Since I might just be lucky enough to stop you from… stabbing yourself in the head?" 

White was cackling, Yellow was swooning, and Wade was begrudgingly amused even as he muttered that this was not over under his breath. 

He finally met Peter's eyes, held his gaze for all of two seconds, and focused back on a stray bit of curled hair by Peter's ear because it was easier to look at than the puppy eyes. 

"I'm not stabbing myself! Whaaaaat?" Wade blurted, feeling like he was self conscious and on edge and he was so fucking grateful he'd remembered his scent patches. He rolled up his shoulder a bit to confirm that he felt them under the collar of his suit and he saw Peter's eyes follow the movement, saw the way his expression shuttered when he saw the raised bits of leather over the area. "Where'd umm, where'd ya get that idea?" 

[He's upset.] 

Wade knew, but he wasn't… was it that he couldn't smell Wade? Wade had a right to wear scent patches! He needed some privacy today! 

{You fucking dickwad, oh my God. Look at him. } 

Peter looked… like he hadn't been sleeping. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a little longer, mid ear now instead of just brushing the tips. It was also a lot more unkempt, wild-- Peter also looked a little thinner and Wade could see his collarbones under the suit. He still had a lot of muscle definition, but it wasn't as dramatic as it had been before and Wade got the instant need to feed him. 

"I got the idea from you saying you were going to stab yourself. I mean-- you can use a metaphor, I love metaphors, but you actually can't die so I don't know how serious you were and I'd like to know whether or not I'll need therapy after this." 

Peter sounded like he was joking, but there was a hard little edge to his voice that Wade knew all too well as a simmering honesty and he felt guilty for causing it. 

[As you should be--] 

{Make him laugh. He's smiling, but he doesn't look happy, I want Baby Boy back-- } 

"You go to therapy?" Wade asked, crossing his arms, leaning to the side in the middle of the street as if there was a wall beside him to support his weight. There wasn't, and the position was awkward, and he saw Peter cracking a genuine smile as he rolled his eyes. 

"No, I should. I ought to," Peter responded, still grinning. "Just kind of don't trust strangers with my head." 

Wade nodded. "Big same. Big, big same." He took three steps to the left and leaned against the nearest building, keeping the same position as before but crossing one ankle in front of the other as he kept the conversation casual--  

[HA. Fucking hell. This is not casual, this is so far off of casual that I don't think you know what the word means--] 

{You're posing like a supermodel. How could you possibly think this is casual-- } 

Peter laughed at his awkward side shuffle and Wade was calling that a win. Now comfortable leaning with one shoulder against the brick wall and flexing a tiny-- not at all tiny-- amount, Wade beamed. 

He could just offer food. He felt like his instincts were screaming at him to make sure his Alpha was healthy and, well, Peter wasn't his, but that did not change how Wade felt. 

The instinct was so strong that Wade forgot how often he'd taken to asking, "So. You hungry?" 

Peter blinked and then his face flamed and Wade squinted a little in confusion until he remembered the last time he'd said that.  

It had ended with him bent over the ledge of a rooftop biting his lip to keep himself from whining with Peter's tongue up his ass. He'd definitely been hungry and that was not what Wade meant to--  

He saw Peter swallow, look away hastily before his eyes fell to Wade's hips and he breathed, "Yeah." 

[Jesus fuck.] 

{He's so thirsty, fuck me. } 

"Holy fuck, Webs. I meant food-- actual--" 

"You taste better." 

Wade felt like he was ascending and crashing down at the same time.  

"Pete. Petey-pie, really, that's-- okay. Okay, but--" 

Food. Food was important and even though his dick was already rising to the occasion, Wade had a brain and he could use it.  

{OR you could let him have what he wants because it's also what you want-- }

[Or a conversation. Maybe neither meal is appropriate for either of you until you have a fucking conversation-- ] 

{Fuck now, talk later.}

[THAT'S WHY THEY NEVER TALK.] 

Peter looked thin, but not terribly unhealthy. However, now he looked hypnotized and a little desperate and he wasn't even just looking at Wade's hips anymore. His eyes followed his wrists and his collar and Wade could smell that wild edge of gasoline in the air-- 

It smelled wrong.  

[Finally noticed, huh.] 

{FIX IT, FIX IT-- } 

Peter didn't smell like Wade anymore. There were no woods, no pine, no hint of cinnamon or gingerbread and caramel; there was nothing of Wade left and Wade hated it.  

He should have been expecting that, but he'd grown so used to them being mingled together that it shook him to his core and made his knees feel weak when Peter took a step closer to him. 

"But I haven't tasted you in two months and I-- Wade, I--" 

"Food first!" Wade insisted, avoiding eye contact and keeping his breaths short and shallow because he knew that if he breathed too much of Peter in or looked into his eyes, he wouldn't keep up any level of resistance. 

[Resistance? You just said food first. You said okay beforehand. You already agreed, how the fuck is that resistance-- ] 

{It's resistance because he could be eating us out right this second but you keep pushing him away and we're going to have a stroke-- } 

Peter didn't step too close, but there was only a foot of space between them and Wade saw the conscious effort Peter made to try and reign in his scent. It was like just seeing Wade was enough to trigger something and that was good news, but also a sign that Wade had made their interactions too focused on sex and now they couldn't interact right without it. 

One meal. 

[Thank fuck. Common sense is real. Halle-fucking-lujah.] 

{WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME? WHY DO YOU HATE ME!}

Wade stood straight, brushing off the side of his suit and trying to ignore the feeling of eyes following every little move his hands made because he felt like shivering and he wanted to keep a tenuous grip on his control. At least for an hour. He could keep his hands to himself for an hour. 

Peter slipped his hand into Wade's like it was a common habit even if it hadn't been for a while and Wade couldn't find it in himself to pull away. 

[He. Is. Holding. Your. Hand.] 

{Again. Fucking again. } 

He knew the boxes were getting increasingly agitated, but Wade was fighting butterflies in his gut as Peter held his hand tight and tugged on the collar of his own suit to try and mute his scent further, as if he could just tell how distracting it was for Wade, as if he knew Wade was trying to gain back a little bit of the control he'd given up the last time they'd seen each other. 

They went to McDonald's, given that it was the only place open so late.  

[You could have gone to a gas station and gotten better food.] 

{A tuna sandwich is not as satisfying-- } 

[Nothing about this is satisfying.] 

Wade ate his nuggets slowly, dragging it out as long as he could because he could see Peter calming down, could smell the muted candle fire again, could feel normal around him again. 

And then Peter ate the last French fry and Wade heard Yellow practically screaming the lyrics of Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On.  

Wade treasured his last five nuggets and the quiet conversation that grew less and less quiet the longer they sat on the roof. 

"So there's this story of a guy who wrote a poem that was so deep and talked about how 'the eight winds cannot move him' and he wanted to show his neighbor, 'cause, y'know, no point in being profound without an audience, right? And he sent it over in a little boat across the lake and his neighbor wrote fart on it and sent it back--" 

Peter snorted, soda going down the wrong way before he started hacking up a lung. Wade patted his back and waited for Peter to stop coughing. "Are you serious? He wrote fart? That's it?" 

Wade grinned and nodded. "Yep. Four letters, whole lotta big dick energy." 

Peter stopped taking sips of his soda and scooted closer to Wade and suddenly Wade didn't feel quite as relaxed as before. He was acutely aware of the minute distance between them and he wanted to make Peter laugh and cherish their interactions without sexual tension but it was hard when Wade missed the taste of him and the scent of him all over his skin.  

"Go on." 

Peter's voice was quiet, interested. His entire body was turned a little more toward Wade and their knees were touching and it burned.  

[I can't believe you could be talking to him about your emotions and you're wasting this time on a fucking fart joke.]

{We could be having sex which you deprived us of for the last two months, please, please, please just ignore the punchline-- }

But because Yellow was always the obnoxious one with the string of jokes, Wade went on, pretending Peter's voice wasn't enough to have him twitching in his pants. 

"So guy gets his poem back and he's pissed--"  

"As he should be," Peter agreed, smiling and hiding it behind his hair and almost derailing Wade's entire thought. 

"And, uh, he goes all the way across the lake just to yell at his shithead neighbor--"  

"Very profound," Peter snarked. 

Wade snorted. "Exactly. Classy as fuck, and his neighbor just goes, 'Oh, wow. The eight winds cannot move you, but a fart sends you across the lake!'" 

Peter started giggling, snorting, losing his shit into Wade's shoulder and Wade froze at the proximity. 

[So the fart joke worked. You're both stupid. ]

{IT WAS A CLASSY FART JOKE. That being said, seriously, can we fuck now-- } 

They'd gone years without sex before but Yellow got a taste of consistency and suddenly he was an addict. Not that Wade was much better, breathing in Peter's scent as subtly as he could and feeling his fingers twitch over his thighs as he tried to keep his shit together. 

Peter stopped laughing and his hand brushed against Wade's and Wade wanted to spend an innocent hour with him but he also missed being naked in Peter's bed. 

"You smell nervous," Peter mumbled. 

"I-- nope. Totes not. I'm good, fine. It's all good." 

"You can… if you don't want to come back to mine anymore that's…" 

Peter's breath caught and Wade felt his heart in his throat as he dreaded what might come next. 

"That's fine. Really. I can-- I can be just a friend if you don't want--" 

[You're sending the complete opposite message of what we want, how the hell do you keep doing this? Just open your mouth and fucking SPEAK! THIS WAS NEVER A PROBLEM BEFORE, YOU NEVER SHUT THE FUCK UP- ]

{KISS HIM!!!}

Wade kissed him. 

{Oh. Oh, you listened to me. Ha, I feel speeeciaaaaallllllll. } 

[It's like there are no signs of evolution anywhere. I'm the only one with common sense. Pathetic.]

Wade didn't care. Peter instantly let them fall back against the roof, cushioning Wade against him and letting his hands fall to the small of Wade's back. He wasn't even grinding up against him or frantically taking his clothes off, he was just letting Wade have everything and Wade kept pulling back only for a few seconds at a time-- just enough to breathe, just enough to drown in candlelight flame and gasoline-- before diving back in and letting Peter steal away his ability to think. 

Wade only shoved himself away to pant wildly and murmur, "Take me to bed." 

Peter looked up at him as if he held the answer to every question in the world and Wade wasn't that special. He'd never been that special, but he felt powerful under Peter's stare. He felt needed and it made him feel like he was high on the revelation, like he could forget his worries and concerns and just exist with Peter, just let himself be.  

Peter was his safe haven and it was pointless to keep trying to protect himself when he knew the walls he'd built around himself had shattered long before this moment. 

Peter could have whatever he wanted and Wade would be his mess, his ruin, his gentle agony because he had Peter Parker's attention. He would be Peter's for as long as the Alpha wanted him near, even if he walked away a little more broken each time. 

He had hazy memories of the wind rushing by his ears, loud and wild and as familiar as Peter's heartbeat had become. He knew they must have fumbled into Peter's building, because there had been an elevator, because Peter couldn't take his hands off of Wade's skin, dragging his nails softly under Wade's suit and over the more sensitive scars-- ones he seemed to recognize better than Wade did. He remembered being lifted against the elevator walls as Peter kissed him more like they were fighting-- clashing teeth and bitten lips and harsh breaths as they shamelessly moved against each other despite their clothes. 

He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that running from Peter the moment they got into his apartment would trigger a chase instinct. He knew that slamming Peter's bedroom door shut and locking it would only be a temporary barrier, that Peter had a key and would get into the room after Wade teased him. He knew stripping and getting into the traditional omega presenting position-- on his hands and knees with his hole facing the door-- on an Alpha's bed would cause a very specific reaction and Wade did it anyway because… because he'd never let anyone have him that way, never presented himself like an omega, never gave into the instinct because he never trusted an Alpha to keep him safe. 

An Alpha could choke him from behind, could stab him in the back, could aim a bullet at the base of Wade's spine and he knew that none of those things would permanently end him now, but he'd never grown out of fearing threats. He just grew out of showing the terror. 

He was still afraid, but not because of any physical damage. He knew Peter wouldn't intentionally hurt him. 

He just knew that if Peter didn't want him after this, then there was nothing else Wade could fight for. 

The moment the door swung open and Peter caught sight of him, Wade could feel the shift in the air. He had his head bowed down before the headboard but he could look beneath his arm and see Peter's chest rising faster-- could feel the way he bled into the air almost as violently as he had the night of the World Trade Center. 

It wasn't long before Peter spread Wade's cheeks apart and tasted him the way he'd wanted to since Wade said his usual baiting line. 

It should have taken an hour of prep work but thirty minutes into Peter alternating between tongue fucking his hole and sucking his dick while kneading his ass the entire time and Wade was leaking. It was almost infuriating that Wade had been impatient from the moment he got into the room, but Peter was now preoccupied by licking slick as it dribbled down his legs, sucking on Wade's inner thighs and leaving short-lasting marks with every taste he had that were driving Wade beyond the last fragile tendrils of his sanity.  

He had to beg, quiet murmurs of, "Fuck me, fuck me, Alpha, please, why won't you fuck me," to get Peter to get with the fucking program. 

Never did Wade think he would have an issue with an Alpha loving his ass too much, but he shouldn't have been surprised. Peter was the exception to every rule Wade thought he knew. 

Peter grabbed one of Wade's wrists and Wade dropped down with his cheek on Peter's pillow, body pliant and needy as Peter lined himself up with his entrance. 

"Ready?" 

He sounded like he wasn't sure and Wade almost found the inner strength to smack him in the face with his own pillow. 

"I've been ready for the past hour, Peter, if you don't fuck me right now--" 

The words died on his tongue as Wade felt the air rushing out of him. 

Peter jolted forward, burying himself inside until Wade could feel Peter's hip bones against his ass in one brutal thrust forward and Wade found himself biting into his pillow, fisting the ruined sheets and trying to breathe in without whining.  

Peter stayed in place, incredibly still and he sounded like he was dying as he asked, "You-- you… okay?" 

"Hahnnn," Wade breathed out through clenched teeth. It wasn't a noise he'd made before. He wasn't sure. It was a lot very suddenly and he'd asked for it and it burned but it also felt good and Wade could feel tears gathering in his eyes from everything flooding him too quickly. 

"I can--" Peter cut himself off with a groan as Wade tightened around him, trying to get used to this again after two months of nothing, before Peter continued. "I can pull out--" 

Wade damn near snarled back at Peter, rocking back against his cock out of sheer spite and refusal and he shook and fell right back against Peter's pillow as the movement made the tip of Peter's cock hit just right where Wade wanted it. 

"You pull out," Wade breathed, voice deadly serious, "And I will hurt you." 

His instinct had been to say he would kill him, but he couldn't even bring himself to say those words. 

Peter laughed quietly, grabbing onto Wade's hips and tentatively pulling halfway out before thrusting forward ever so slowly and brushing against Wade's prostate so gently that Wade couldn't stand it.  

Wade started fucking back against Peter's cock as fast as his trembling thighs could manage, almost crying because it wasn't enough, until Peter spread Wade's legs against the mattress so that with every single thrust, Wade's cock ground down against the mattress in time with Peter's assault on his prostate and Wade felt Peter's right hand on his chest, pinching his nipple. There were too many sensations to focus on and Wade was living for every animalistic thrust into his body. 

Peter didn't lose his shit very often and Wade usually took control, but this was an Alpha, his chosen Alpha, making him feel good and Wade felt tears slipping down his cheeks from the overstimulation because Peter never let go of his wrist, giving his scent glands intermittent little squeezes and thumbing at them with each movement.  

He wasn't sure when he started thinking about the fact that Peter wasn't actually his Alpha, that this was amazing, but it. All. Nothing more. He wasn't certain when the tears turned from blissed out overwhelmed tears to those of a wounded omega but suddenly he was sobbing and shaking and he couldn't suppress the sound of one of the cries.  

Peter went still, pulled out after he heard a second muffled cry which only made Wade cry harder and he just wanted to be good for Peter, why couldn't he just fucking be a good omega, he just wanted to have a little bit of happiness--  

Peter let go of his wrist, but he still linked his fingers in between Wade's as he pulled Wade up into a tentative seated position and sat beside him. 

"What's wrong-- Wade, I-- did I hurt you? I'm-- I didn't mean to, fuck, I'm so sorry, sometimes my strength gets away from me, do you need a doctor? I can call Bruce--"  

Wade shook his head violently, trying to get himself under control and failing. He gave up on trying to explain the goddamn mood swings that came when an omega was anticipating a heat and just let Peter hold his hand, eventually sagging into Peter's arms when the Alpha scooted closer on the bed and wrapped Wade up in his arms the way he had when Wade was in heat and crying his fucking heart out. He just knew. He didn't need to understand to know what Wade needed and it was ridiculous because Wade just wanted to be better than this.  

He didn't want to talk about what was wrong, he didn't want to think, but he kept overthinking and… and he just wanted to let himself enjoy what he had while he still had it. Still had him. 

He breathed Peter in, nosing at his collarbone and closing his eyes. It became hard to breathe and the rush of adrenaline that flooded his system under that effect was always more than welcome. Breathing Peter in was like drowning, it was oddly warm and filling and it stole his breath away and gave him the odd floating sensation in his chest, even with the added pressure weighing him down. Drowning had always been Wade's favorite way to die. Peter had become Wade's favorite reason to live.  

And he smelled… he smelled comforting and warm and safe and… aroused. 

It was muted, dulled by the scent traces that Alphas projected for a distressed omega near them, but Wade could still taste it so clearly in the air that he wanted more than to just breathe it in and he let his tongue out against Peter's skin before he could think properly about what that would mean. He didn't stop at Peter's collarbone. He froze at the source when he felt Peter go completely still in front of him, arms still locked around Wade but tense instead of gentle. As if he couldn't remember how to move. 

Wade let his tongue drag lightly over the area again, waiting for a reaction, for a no, for something, but all he heard was Peter panting by his ear as he stayed in place. 

Wade mouthed at Peter's neck, nuzzling his face into the side of Peter's throat because when he raised a hand against Peter's chest, he could feel an erratic heartbeat. 

"Wade," Peter gasped, drawing in short breaths of air. "If-- If you're emotional, you need to be stop this because I don't have the self restraint to--"  

Wade bit down on his scent glands. Not had enough to leave a scar, not hard enough for it to be considered a mark, but enough to leave a bright red hue that would fade to a gorgeous shade of blue mixed with purple over the next hour or so. He kept doing it all over Peter's throat, on each side and he saw Peter's eyes rolling back in his head and sucked a little harder to make sure one hickey would last longer than the others. 

Peter snapped, roughly lifting Wade up and turning him to face the wall so that he couldn't abuse Peter's weakness. 

It felt like it took no longer than the blink of an eye for Wade to have Peter spread out around Peter's dick again, his chest pressed up against the wall as Peter fucked brutally into him, wrists pinned above his head in Peter's grip while his other hand hooked under Wade's left thigh and kept him high enough to drop onto Peter's dick every couple seconds with desperate moans into the plaster the harder Peter fucked him. 

Fifteen minutes. 

Fifteen minutes was all it took for Wade to become a God awful mess in Peter's hold because his nipples kept roughly brushing against the wall with every thrust and the sound of Peter's hips slapping against his ass was loud and obscene and Wade still felt like little pulses of electricity were running through his body and straight to his cock every time Peter's fingers pressed gently over his wrists like it was nothing special.  

He might have been whining, crying, choking on a garbled version of Peter's name as Peter fucked him hard enough for the contact with the wall to be painful, the extra little touch of pain sending shivers up his spine. 

Peter let go of his wrists and hooked both his hands under Wade's thighs, spreading him out further so that he was leaving trails of precum over the surface until Peter let go of his right leg. 

Wade fumbled to balance himself, but he didn't have to try hard-- Peter's thrusts had him bouncing either way and he couldn't be bothered to attempt to gain any semblance of control back when Peter's free hand cupped Wade's leaking erection, fingers teasing over the underside of his dick as Peter kept at the process of ruining his hole. 

Wade scratched at the wall and held onto one of the lantern fixtures for dear life . There was blood on his fingertips and he didn't know if it was from the walls scraping his fingers or the scratches he'd left on Peter's forearms and suddenly the thought that Peter would wear his marks, however meaningless, had Wade arching back, writhing against Peter's chest as he sped up and fucked into Wade like he was trying to become one living being with him.  

And then Peter stopped, buried inside of him and growling lowly into Wade's shoulder. Maybe it was instinct that had Wade baring his neck the moment he finished, seeing stars and throwing his head back against Peter's shoulder as he exposed his throat for Peter's access-- maybe it was the way he'd begun this encounter that led to it… maybe it was a silent plea for Peter to take the chance that Wade hadn't so he could finally feel like he belonged somewhere. 

Peter remained buried inside of him, hesitating only a moment as Wade whined and spasmed around him before he lapped at Wade's skin lazily, tasting his scent glands and panting as he left open mouthed kisses over the area. 

His cock twitched inside of Wade, hips jolting forward to slam Wade's hips further against the wall, his hand still cupped over Wade's cock and palming at it even though Wade was far past the point of being coherent and he couldn't stop practically seizing in his grip, thighs trembling in their spread position, knees still practically spread into a split against the surface. 

Wade felt cum dripping out of his hole, dribbling down the back of his thighs and he would have felt uncomfortable except-- 

Peter lightly dragged his teeth over Wade's jugular. Just a soft little graze that had no permanency behind it, but it was enough to send Wade into a frenzy, whining and writhing in his lap, grinding against his palm even though Wade had nothing left to give. 

He was actively leaving a hickey on Wade's scent glands and, while it would fade in a matter of seconds, it still had Wade convulsing on his dick until he forgot that breathing was a human necessity.  

He blacked out for a moment, resurfacing, sore and oddly clean in Peter's bed with the Alpha beside him, laying there on what were now clean sheets. 

He'd changed the sheets. 

Wade's mind was struggling to catch up to his new position, laying on fresh sheets with a sore hole as Peter laid next to him, looking at the pillows as if looking at Wade would hurt him. 

Maybe he realized how badly Wade wanted more. He'd presented for him, he'd bared his neck outside of a heat. And still, while Peter had done more than Wade in the same situation… he hadn't taken Wade as a mate. 

This-- whatever they'd become-- it had to mean something and Wade needed to hear the words from Peter's mouth, needed to know he wasn't the only one addicted to more than just the acts they put on between his bedsheets. He waited for Peter to say something, anything, but the words didn't come, an offer wasn't made-- and Wade… Wade couldn't put on a facade and pretend this was any less painful than it actually was anymore. He was in love, he was clearly offering himself up and Peter never took the opportunity, never asked to-- Wade didn't even want to be courted. Peter could ask, just ask if he could leave his mark. Wade had been consistently coming back, taking control, trying to win Peter over and it seemed like he just wasn't cut out for it, because even after baring his soul for Peter… Peter wasn't going to take a risk for him. 

[He let you practically mark him-- ] 

{There are hickies on his scent glands. On his scent glands, he wouldn't just-- } 

But he would. He'd let Wade do it during his rut. He'd let him even though they hadn't established that it meant anything and Wade had been an idiot, a helpless idiot stuck on someone miles ahead of him.  

He felt himself swallowing down mixed emotions as he rolled over in bed, turning his back to Peter, shoulders growing tense the longer they laid there in silence. 

[Talk to him. For the love of all that exists in the fucking world, talk to him--] 

{ Please. Please don't do this-- we're miserable without him and I can't fucking handle it again, I can't-- } 

A low cry fell from Peter's lips as Wade sat up, one foot already off the bed as he started to stand and Wade tried not to let it get to him. Peter was just a very expressive Alpha and-- and he didn't feel what Wade felt and that was-- 

It felt like it had to be a lie. 

[FINALLY! OF COURSE THAT'S A LIE --] 

{If you know he cares, then why in the MOTHER OF FUCKS ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY-- }

The boxes were right, but they didn't see the full picture. Peter was always so damn affectionate with him, and it couldn't… it couldn't have just been a kink for soft sex or for being dominated-- it was more than that. Peter looked at him like it was more than that, but he never took the last step because Wade was still publically considered a mercenary, because if killing was the only way out Wade would take it, because Wade was insane and had voices, and wasn't attractive enough for him and that-- it wasn't like it was news. It was fine. 

[You really think your skin is the problem here? Have you seen the way he touches it, are you fucking serious-- ] 

{He smiles to himself when you talk to us. Like it's-- like it's not scary, like we're not crazy, like he knows we're real and here and doesn't mind because he's happy anyway-- } 

But that was the problem here. It didn't matter what anyone said, Wade would never really believe he was capable of making Peter happy. Especially not when half the time he kept making Peter back away, safeword on him, cry, question his own morals. He wasn't meant for someone like Peter Parker and he needed to accept that. He needed to stop holding him back. 

Wade started to stand. Peter kept him around because Wade was willing to be whatever he wanted and Wade had been there for him at his lowest points. It had to be hard for him to let go of familiarity, but familiarity wasn't love and Wade couldn't keep pretending this game between them was what he wanted. 

[You're making a mistake and you're only doing it because you know he isn't a bad Alpha and you know that if you want to leave he won't stop you because you're a coward-- ] 

{PETER! PETER, WE LOVE YOU, PETER, PLEASE-- PLEASE, IF THERE WAS EVER A TIME TO DO SOMETHING IT'S NOW, FUCK YOU, WADE. FUCK YOU-- } 

He'd always wanted more. He'd wanted more from the day he'd met him. But he couldn't keep feeling his heart shattering in his chest every time they did this. He couldn't keep waiting for a happily ever after that would never come. It was time to let go of him. 

He stood, trembling, and he went still at the fingers latching around his forearm, at the broken whisper of, "Please," that came from behind him through clenched teeth-- a whisper that cracked halfway through the syllable. 

{Oh thank God! Yes! Halle-fucking-lujah! Thankyouthankyouthankyou-- } 

[ Fuck. Finally. I thought you were both going to be dumbasses this time around. Again. ] 

The grip grew tighter and Wade couldn't move, paralyzed by the single word and all of its implications. He could feel something blooming in his chest but he didn't dare make assumptions because he would break down if he was wrong. 

"Don't," Peter started, voice quiet and strained and Wade felt the air thickening like ashes-- like candles and discount coffee. Preparations for a funeral. "Stay with me, Wade-- you can-- you can leave tomorrow, but please, I--"  

"I can't do this," Wade breathed, taking another step away-- in spite of the boxes screaming. He couldn't stay the night if Peter would be fine with him leaving tomorrow, if he just wanted the comfort of someone in bed next to him after sex. He felt Peter's hand slipping from his arm and he felt his heart tearing apart with it. "I can't," he added, feeling his heart ache from all the times he'd forced himself to bear it before, showing a level of vulnerability he knew he never would have shown another person. He looked out the window as his own sorrow spread throughout the room and he clenched his fists at his sides, eyes shut. 

"I can't stay here if this isn't--" 

He felt his voice breaking and he felt the boxes lull into silence as he finished with a fragile murmur of, "If this isn't what I want it to be."  

Peter didn't touch him again, but his voice sounded almost as wrecked as Wade's did and Wade hated himself for not toughing it out, for not just staying until Peter fell asleep again, for not being capable of wearing himself down any further when he had no strength left to use. 

"What do you want it to be?" 

"Everything," Wade forced out, locking his jaw to keep himself from sobbing but the low whine in his chest started growing and there was nothing he could do to hide it. 

"Then stop running away." 

Wade turned, startled, breath catching in his throat as he looked into Peter's eyes and saw his desperation mixed with Wade's reflection. 

Peter had his hand extended, not touching him, but his palm was facing up and he gave Wade a small, delicate little smile as he asked the same whispered question Wade asked him right before they truly fell apart. "Do you trust me?" 

Wade felt like crying. 

The silence in his head was almost deafening, as if the boxes had vanished, so if they knew they couldn't force Wade to make the right choice and for the first time in a decade Wade made a decision without anyone else's input. 

His arm was trembling as he reached forward, fingertips tentatively slipping between Peter's fingers as Peter breathed out in sheer relief and pulled him close, pressed up against his chest, wrapping Wade up in his arms and breathing him in like he was terrified this would be the last time and suddenly Wade knew he wasn't alone. He wasn't the only one hurting, he wasn't the only one putting the other person ahead of his own needs out of a broken devotion.  

He let Peter hold him tightly, his own hands slowly rising until he settled his palms against Peter's back, running a few fingertips over a fraction of his spine to try and fix what he'd fucked up. 

"Wade, I can't watch you leave again-- I need you."  

He could smell Peter's pain and need and hear the quiet little rumbling in his chest and he knew-- he knew how Peter felt. The signs had all been there, but Wade hadn't let himself see them because he'd been hurt too many times and it was easier to pretend he was okay with what they'd become-- easier to lay in the false security of a mere friendship than it was to admit he was terrified. That he wouldn't be good enough. That giving himself away would just be another line in his long list of mistakes. 

For a while, Wade simply let himself feel warm-- loved-- resting against Peter's chest and bringing them both down against the mattress, laying there as Peter clung to him, making a pillow of his own chest as he kept Wade as close as physically possible, as if he was still afraid to lose him. 

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Wade murmured into the quiet, the words soft against Peter's clavicle. He couldn't fathom it. That Peter would stomach the level of pain Wade had been harboring in his chest when Peter was amazing. When it was a given that Wade was willing to do anything for him. 

Peter breathed a wet laugh and it was only then that Wade realized Peter had been crying. 

"I-- Wade, do you even-- I've wanted to ask you to move in with me since your heat, but you-- I offered first and then you didn't take it and I thought-- I thought you were teasing me and I couldn't--"  

"You thought I was teasing you?" Wade blurted. He pulled back a few inches to look at Peter and see the sadness lingering there, kissing a stray tear away as he said, "Peter, I… you offered during my heat, I thought-- I wasn't going to take advantage of you, I--" 

He never would have been able to mark Peter during his heat. It would have-- it would have been wrong. Wade had been marked without permission before, he couldn't-- he wasn't capable of doing anything to hurt Peter, not intentionally. 

"Advantage-- Wade, no-- I, I'm the one who was stupid enough to expect you to leave the roof when you were in heat and then I went into a rut and basically left you with no choice but to get stuck with me and fucking bared my neck like a creepy over-invested one night stand--" 

His words were almost frantic and there were so many things wrong with all of that. Had Peter been feeling guilty for taking advantage of him since his heat? It had been months.  

"Peter." Wade didn't even know where to start addressing how differently he felt about that night. "Sweetheart. Baby Boy, that's -- that's not how that went down. I felt my heat, I smelled you, I felt safe and I decided I trusted you and that I-- I wanted you to be my Alpha." 

"Your-- you wanted…" 

Wade nosed along Peter's throat, smiling a tiny little thing when Peter swallowed under his ministrations, his breath unsteady in the quiet.  

"I didn't mark you because we hadn't talked about it and-- I'm an omega, Peter." It felt shitty explaining that his gender mattered. He'd spent years trying to make a name for himself and prove it didn't but he couldn't escape his biology. He could evade the stigma and the roles, but at the end of the day he couldn't truly mark someone. "Any mark I left on you wouldn't mean anything unless you marked me and… and you didn't ask so I thought… I don't know what I thought but I wanted to ask except--" 

Wade bit down on his lip and tried to swallow down the strength of his emotions. He couldn't talk about how painful it had been, to see Peter baring himself naked beneath him and shutter away seconds later, closing himself off as if the offer had been a mistake. It seemed Wade didn't need to say anything else. 

Peter finished the sentence for him. 

"Except I never let you scent me after that." 

Wade nodded against Peter's neck, curling further into him and relaxing when Peter smelled like his usual tinge of gasoline and an added hint of regret. Fingertips traced over his spine and Wade breathed Peter in like a drug. His precious addiction. 

"I kept leaving because I wanted to kiss you afterwards, but if you wouldn't even let me scent you then… then why would you want anything else?" 

It hurt to even say out loud but he could tell every word was only making Peter feel worse about everything, internalizing it all as if it was his fault when Wade was the one that kept leaving him. "I don't blame you for it--" 

"You should," Peter responded quietly. 

"I don't," Wade insisted. 

Peter drew absent patterns into Wade's skin and Wade wanted to make him agree… but he knew there was no point. Peter would blame himself, but Wade just needed to do his best to explain that… they both hadn't thought anything through. 

"You safe worded," Wade reminded him gently, trying to explain why he'd never let himself have more than a series of trysts with Peter even though it was obvious neither of them wanted anyone else. "I thought-- I thought maybe during a rut it was a need for you, but that you didn't want me to scent you-- or that you didn't want me near it because you just didn't want me ." 

That was the reality. Wade had always been on the defensive side of things, he'd been raised to be and he'd never grown out of it. He'd never learned to trust his instincts, he'd pushed Peter away because the idea that Peter could want him was more unbelievable than the notion that he was an inexperienced Alpha that had grown used to him. 

Peter pressed a kiss to Wade's temple and Wade tangled his legs with Peter's, shivering a little from the cold until Peter reached down and pulled the blanket by their feet up over them. 

"I safe worded because I thought… you kept coming around for sex but you never… you never said anything about wanting more than that and I thought-- I didn't want to be a game to you. I thought you knew because how could you not, I was so obvious about it, but you didn't and I… I couldn't handle you making fun of me for needing you." 

Wade climbed over Peter and held his face between his hands as he assured, "Petey, I wouldn't-- I would never do that to you--"  

He looked into Peter's eyes and there was so much affection and need reflected in them that Wade felt his chest hurting a little.  

"I know, Wade." Peter breathed his name like a blessing and Wade didn't know what to do with that. He'd never been needed before. "I-- I was so stupid--"  

And Peter was an idiot because he still didn't understand how gone Wade was on him. 

"You're the only Alpha that's ever treated me like a person," Wade interrupted. "Before I became known as some kind of hero, before the Avengers-- you're the only person that gave me a chance and I know you didn't know I was an omega, but--" 

Peter moved himself forward and stole a kiss, pressing his lips against Wade's softly, languidly, almost like he just wanted to know that he could without any prompting, without sex, without a reason.  

When he pulled back and rested against his pillow, Wade was still catching his breath and trying to get his skin color back to a normal level of pink. It was just a kiss. It was nothing, Wade had given far more to foreign targets during his military career and somehow… somehow it was everything in a way those experiences had never been. Peter didn't want an exotic foreigner or a seductive omega; he just wanted Wade, no matter how broken the surface or the connections were. 

"I wouldn't have treated you any differently if I'd known," Peter promised. It took Wade two solid seconds to remember what they'd been talking about and he had to look at Peter's chest because his eyes were too intense just then-- too honest. There was a light hum of Paramore's Exception in his head and Wade didn't even mind that Yellow was slightly off key. It was fitting. "I guess I would have been a little less insistent on dropping by your place, for… privacy reasons-- but even then I… I wanted you when I thought you were an Alpha, I don't-- I don't want you any less now." 

Wade paused for a moment, taking that information in, trying to mash it into what he previously believed and knew as true and completely failed to fit it into his world view.  

"You wanted me when you thought I was an Alpha," Wade repeated. 

That-- that had been at least six months ago. Possibly two years prior. Surely Peter hadn't wanted him so quickly, not as quickly as Wade had wanted him.  

"I-- yeah? Yes. I was sort of embarrassingly obvious? I get why you didn't say anything but--" 

"How long." 

It was not a question and Peter blinked at him and averted his eyes, that telltale shade of pink crawling down his neck as he said, "I don't-- I'm not entirely sure?" 

"Okay," Wade said, voice growing a little higher as he tried to not freak out. "Alright. So you're not sure. That's fine, I'm totes a babe, hard to tell, I get it. But-- there had to be a point where you looked at me and thought you'd lost your mind to like me."  

Peter glared at him, but he still looked at his headboard rather than at Wade. 

"Umm. I mean-- we weren't even really… it wasn't romantic yet or anything, but… you were nice to a little girl and you gave her your phone and something about it was really kind and sweet--" 

"The Hello Kitty phone," Wade blurted, eyes wide in disbelief as he sat up on Peter's thighs and stared at Peter, who didn't seem to know what to do with his hands and finally crossed them over his chest. "Since the freaking Hello Kitty phone-- Peter, are you shitting me?" 

Peter ducked his head and smiled and Wade poked him in the side, making Peter snort. 

"It was cute! I mean-- grown man with a hello kitty phone-- fucking engraved diamonds and you just gave it away because a little girl was sad-- I don't know what kind of reaction you were expecting from me--" 

"The normal one!" Wade countered, still feeling like he'd been shoved into an alternate dimension. "The one you actually gave me where you asked why the hell my phone case was worth half a million dollars-- that was, like, two years ago, oh my god-- " 

"It-- I was alone and you saved my life and I already liked you-- at least… I wanted desperately to be your friend and then… it was hard not to want more than that." 

Peter looked down at Wade's abdomen and then hastily looked away and focused on Wade's arm, presumably because Wade was definitely still naked and on display. 

Wade groaned into the air, closing his eyes, exhausted and too spent to really make sense of that until Peter's breath cut off for a second and then Peter asked, "Hey, Wade?" 

Wade peeked one eye open and looked down at Peter who had a furrow in his brow as he thought about something. 

"Yeah?" 

"The omega I smelled in your house. It was you… and I thought it smelled familiar… but I'd never-- oh. You weren't--" 

Peter sat up and buried his nose into Wade's scent glands and Wade started keening softly at the feeling until Peter rested his forehead on Wade's shoulder and breathed out slowly. 

"You called me pretty boy when I texted you. You saw me in the grocery store. You… you knew who I was the entire time and you didn't say anything."  

He pulled himself up, nudging Wade's nose with his own in a silent question and Wade pressed their foreheads together, pleased when Peter wrapped his arms around his waist. "I wanted you to tell me. I didn't want you to be backed into a corner. Consent is sexy." 

Peter laughed, just a muted chuckle as he angled his head to the left, brushing his lips against Wade's for a quick peck before kissing his cheek and snorting as Wade pouted. 

"You're right. Consent is sexy-- except my secret identity wasn't exactly about sex--" 

"I dunno," Wade interrupted, "I still firmly believe that ass has starred in porn. You just haven't shared it with me yet, but I'm a patient man, Spideycakes, I'll wear ya down eventually!" 

Peter shook his head, still close, but far enough to roll his eyes and say, "I've seen you stab your ice cream into pieces because it wasn't melting fast enough. Patient man, my ass."

Wade shrugged, leaning extra close into Peter's hold and biting lightly at the shell of his ear just to watch Peter shiver. 

"I waited for you." 

It was such a simple statement, but Peter instantly tightened his arms around him and pressed a kiss at the hollow of his neck. 

"You did. I-- I'm sorry I was too stupid to see it--" 

"Hey," Wade snapped lightly. "No, we do not stan self-hate in this house." He looked around the bedroom and the fire escape by the window and added, "Apartment. Whatever, same difference, you know what I meant."  

Peter smiled into Wade's skin, and the feeling of Peter-- the smell of him-- all warm and happy and content like this was the best place he could be had Wade melting. 

"Okay. No self-hate," Peter agreed. "Especially when I call you beautiful." 

Wade opened his mouth to argue, felt Peter's teeth nipping at his scent glands, and instantly ground down against him with a whine.  

"That's not-- it's not fair-- you're playing dirty."  

Peter blinked innocently at him and Wade glared back because Bambi eyes weren't enough to wear him down, except they were and Wade was completely fucked. 

"Move in with me." 

And that took Wade off guard. 

"You-- what--"  

No, no, no-- Wade had fixed up the house just so he could be the one to ask--

"Move in with me," Peter stated again. "You come here almost every night anyway and I have all the food you like and I--" 

"Peter, you-- are you being serious-- I--" 

I fixed a fucking house, don't do this first. 

"Yes," Peter insisted. "I want to court you but I've wanted to do that since before I could even afford to and I don't want to live alone when you could be here with me--"  

"You wanted to court me?" Wade asked, voice high and almost panicked because this was so sudden and too much information at once-- male omegas did not get courted. That did not happen. Females were courted because they actually had all the organs they needed to have kids whereas male omegas were a failed nature experiment. Female omegas received gifts to either accommodate or improve their lifestyle and their future so that they would be more inclined to accept a stable provider as a mate, to support their children. It was sexist and outdated but a lot of omegas considered it an honor for someone to invest the time, money, and thought into their personal tastes. 

Wade's mother had talked about it-- how special her courtship had been. 

Wade had never dared to even hope for it. 

[Oh boy are you forgetting a huge detail about courtship--] 

{But courting is LOVELY. You get so much free shit-- }  

Peter went quiet for all of a second before scooting a little backward to put distance between them as Wade felt cold at the move. "I-- I can still court you! I can still-- if you want-- I'd like-- that is, if you think--" 

[Jesus Christ, you think you've moved past the misunderstandings and then we just loop right back around again. ] 

{Hsjekdjfjldldkd COURTING. PRESENTS!!!!} 

Peter sure knew how to get Yellow excited. 

He was stuttering over his words and avoiding looking at Wade's body and Wade felt a touch of hurt until he remembered something very important. 

[Bingo.] 

{WHAT IS IT!?} 

"Oh God no, no-- Peter. Peter, no." Wade waved his hands in front of himself to vehemently express how much he did not require antiquated traditions. "I don't-- I love having sex with you, holy shit, please don't court me-- please, dear God. Do not make me be abstinent, I will cry, I will actually sob in your bed, don't do that to me--"  

{BUT PRESENTS, BUT SEX, BUT-- PRESENTS-- I DON'T-- } 

[We've lived without presents this whole time, pretty sure you take away the sex and he'll be miserable-- ]

Peter sagged against him and let out one of the longest exhales Wade had ever heard before muttering, "Oh thank fuck. I-- Wade. I can't not touch you for six months, you're literally all I think about." 

[...] 

{The-- all… he's just… illegal. That's illegal, he can't do that because my heart-- } 

[So it looks like you're not the only addict here. Good to know.] 

{He sounds like he almost went to prison and got the not guilty verdict.} 

[Sexual abstinence is not comparable to a prison sentence-- ] 

{LET ME HAVE FUN. IT'S A JOKE.} 

[It's wasn't funny--] 

{You want funny? Okay, Sonic the Hedgehog and Mario walk into a bar--} 

[JESUS CHRIST, NO.] 

Wade felt conflicting sensations, warmth and annoyance due to the boxes, but both he and Peter went silent, and then Wade got to see Peter hide his face into his chest like looking at him would melt his face off and it was the most adorable thing in the world.  

"I'm all you think about, huh?" 

He tried not to sound too smug about it, given that he was finding it hard to believe that was possible even though he knew it was true, but he knew he sounded as smug as anyone could. Because this was Peter and he was such a wonderful Alpha and person in general and the thought that Wade was the person he prioritized and obsessed over was… as baffling as it was intoxicating. 

Peter didn't stop hiding into his skin, but he did snap back with a huff and a, "So you love having sex with me, huh?" 

[Wow. He thought that would work? Did he not see how eager you were to--] 

{Suck. His. DICK!} 

Wade snorted into Peter's hair , pointedly ignoring Yellow because they'd done enough already. 

"Yeah, I mean. You've gotta realize a man is thirsty when he sucks your dick an average of four times a week, Peter, put a little thought into this."  

Peter growled, and his hair was tucked behind his ears so Wade could see that the tips of his ears were red and he could not stop smiling . 

"I ate you out just as often--" 

[Glad he can actually say it out loud--] 

{His voice cracked omg, that's adorable, how fucking dare-- } 

Wade nodded. "Are you denying that you liked it?" 

Peter went quiet, burrowing lower and muttering, "No." 

"Cool. So you love having sex with me too."

"Wade, goddammit." 

[Back to square one.] 

{Mating bite. Ring Pop. The whole nine yards--} 

Wade had lost count of how many times they'd fucked in public places and on different surfaces in the apartment and somehow, some way, Peter was still embarrassed so easily that Wade just wanted to hold him and whisper filthy things into his ear. 

[Again?] 

{ Hey lil' mama, lemme whispa in your ear-- } 

[Oh for fuck's sake-- ] 

He didn't, especially not with the stupid mood-killing soundtrack. He knew neither of them could take it right then. He knew they were both tired. He knew Peter was barely holding on for him. 

"I love you," he confessed, voice nothing but a faint decibel into Peter's hair. 

Peter went perfectly still for one moment, before slowly looking up with watery eyes and wild strands of hair-- he was untamed and messy and gorgeous and Wade wasn't going to take it back. 

"You-- you what --" 

Wade kissed the corner of Peter's jaw and said nothing, waiting for it to sink in and suddenly Peter was kissing him like his lips and his tongue and even his teeth were more important than the air he needed to breathe.  

When Peter pulled back, they were both panting, both struggling to say anything until Peter practically demanded, "Say it again," in a single gasped breath. 

"I love you," Wade whispered, watching the way Peter's mouth broke out into a smile, the way tears spilled over his cheeks as light brown curls fell over his face as he looked down, taking Wade's hands in his and gripping him tight, as if he didn't know how else to show how much this meant to him. 

"Again," Peter breathed, crying and grinning and looking at Wade as if he'd given him the world.  

"I love you," Wade repeated, pressing another kiss to Peter's temple, then one to his cheek, to the tip of his nose, to his jaw, and his lips, and his shoulder-- all the while repeating the phrase and listening to Peter laugh at his actions-- amused and so clearly delighted. And then Wade kissed his scent glands and murmured it one last time, a serious iteration of, "I love you," set against Peter's skin as Peter bared his neck. 

"I don't want to hurt you." 

Wade knew Peter was offering himself up for him-- he knew Peter could take it, but he didn't want it to be painful. 

Peter nuzzled his cheek with his own and brought one of Wade's hands up to his lips, kissing the edge of his wrist in a tender little gesture as he promised, "I love you more than I've ever loved anything. More than anyone. I've been pining for two years, Wade. I can wait. If you want us to wait." 

Wade wanted to feel less guilty about it than he did-- but mating outside of a heat was agony and he didn't want either of them to feel it. It wouldn't hurt as much for Peter, given that it was a superficial scar mark, but it would still be over one of the most sensitive and fragile areas of his body and Wade didn't want to force that on him without the hazy sensation of release and the warm effect of a shared cycle. 

"I want-- I do want you," Wade assured him. "I swear this isn't--" 

Peter pulled both their hands above their heads and launched himself back against the mattress, dragging a screaming Wade down with him and Wade collapsed over Peter's chest with an indignant smack of his cheek against Peter's left peck.  

"You. Little. Shit." 

Peter just laughed at him, casually brushing his wrists over Wade's shoulders, his back, the scent glands over Wade's wrists as well, marking him with a temporary claim as thoroughly as he possibly could.  

Wade tried not to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but Peter was claiming him and Wade knew it wasn't all that common. People who only met up for sex didn't do it, they smelled like each other enough already. People courting certainly never had the opportunity. Those who were married usually mated during their first shared cycle, which meant that not that many Alphas bothered with wrist scenting or official temporary claims. They didn't need to.  

[What an old tradition. Wonder if it runs in the family--] 

{Yeah, but everyone's gonna know we fuck with Spiderman--} 

[They already know. There isn't a person in the world that doesn't know-- ]

White was… sort of right. Wade smelled so strongly of Peter all the time that most people assumed Peter had already claimed him.  

Wade was amused. 

"You realize that my next heat is in three weeks, right?" 

[Finally taking the appropriate amount like a responsible adult-- ] 

{Pffffft. We're not doing this to be responsible. We wanna FUCK--} 

Peter didn't stop, insistently ducking down his head to cover his hair in Wade's scent by burrowing against Wade's throat. 

"Mhmm." 

It was such an absent response that Wade had to laugh. It was… amazing that Peter found him so appealing. Wade had never been sought after-- not after his mutation at least. 

"And you understand that this process is completely unnecessary?" 

Peter paused, dragging his teeth lightly against Wade's skin, just over his jugular and making Wade jolt forward and bite down a whine. 

"I can't-- I can't help it," Peter mumbled. "You're going to be my mate, you should smell like me. I need it-- I… it's… important."  

[That's also an old concept--] 

{Shut the hell up, this one's good .} 

Wade felt like preening but that was such a ridiculous reaction that he settled on resting his head back onto Peter's chest and letting himself relax, muscles shifting until he was comfortable and radiating happiness. 

"Sure thing, Petey-pie." He gracefully didn't point out that all of New York thought he already smelled like Peter, or the fact that less and less people on the street tried to flirt with Spiderman during patrols because they knew Deadpool was still perfectly willing to torture anyone that got too close to his mate. Even if they'd never made an official announcement because they hadn't known where the other stood. 

He didn't point out that he was perfectly willing to let Peter mark him outside of a heat, even if it was painful. He had a feeling that Peter wouldn't take it well. 

He simply let Peter hold him, slowly feeling his eyes drift shut in the comfort of Peter's arms. 

He didn't know how things would work out with his job, or his mutation and his voices-- he hadn't even asked Peter if maybe he wanted to move in with him instead. He wasn't sure of anything else in his life, but… he had Peter Parker. 

He had Peter and he knew that, for once-- maybe for the first time in his life-- he was sure that he wasn't making a mistake.