Chapter Text
Peter found himself attributing his momentary lapse in judgment (and the fact that all sense of decorum had flown out of the proverbial window) to his charming boyfriend and the electrifying surge of adrenaline that had accompanied the successful dismantling of several of Dr. Doom’s Doom Bots (which had been terrorizing lower Manhattan for the better part of an hour before they’d shown up). Spider-Man and Deadpool had faced down the metallic adversaries for nearly two hours alongside the Fantastic Four and emerged victorious and relatively unharmed (only sustaining a few scrapes and bruises, nothing their healing factors couldn’t heal almost immediately) while not even damaging any of the surrounding buildings or city property (which had Peter sighing in relief because taxes were already high in NYC, and he’d rather not contribute to their continued increase if he could help it).
The exhilaration of their triumph translated into an impromptu celebration in the somewhat secluded alley next to their shared apartment. Their hot, eager mouths sought each other hungrily, a desperate play for relief against the thrill of their successful skirmish. Peter had tried to protest when Wade had pushed him up against the gritty brick wall and yanked up both their masks, citing Wade’s own paranoia at other people knowing they were together (they still hadn’t quite gotten around to telling Aunt May, so the only people in their lives who knew about their romantic relationship were Weasel, Ned, MJ, Felicia, Kate, Kamala, and the local eateries around the apartment). But Wade’s talented lips brokered a compelling argument (one that Peter would forever be unable to rally against, if he were to be completely honest). The rush of adrenaline and the glow of success momentarily eclipsed his usual judgment, which ultimately led to his oversight in selecting a more discreet location for their intense make out session.
Between panting, hot breaths, Peter had somehow managed to shimmy the shirt of Wade’s suit up (the material of the suit was woven from Unstable Molecules, which clung to Wade’s sculpted muscles like a second skin, its adaptive nature bending to every curve and line of his body making it hard to pry up) to reveal his abdomen (a study in constantly healing wounds and rugged sensuality that Peter loved to run his hands over and watch stitch itself together).
“ God I want you,” Wade rasped into Peter’s ear, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
Peter moaned, jumping to lock his legs around Wade’s waist. He bit at Wade’s earlobe and replied, “then carry me inside, Red.”
Peter felt Wade’s grin as the older man kissed the side of his neck and gripped his thighs tight, his gloved fingers digging into the Spider-Silk of Peter’s suit (which was relatively durable, but it wouldn’t be the first time Wade accidentally ripped the fabric in his haste to take it off, much to Peter’s exasperation). He pushed his hips into the line of Peter’s hardening cock, and Peter groaned when he felt an answering hardness in the older man’s pants. The hero let his head fall back against the rough masonry behind him with a moan, his shaggy hair (long enough now that Wade could braid tiny pleats into it, which meant he was due for a haircut soon) damp with sweat and curling at the ends with the mask half pulled over his face like it was, the lenses on his suit closed tight.
He had one hand splayed across the breadth of Wade’s large back, feeling the tense, coiled strength in his muscles, while the other cupped the back of his neck. He ground his hips into Wade’s and moaned again when the ex-mercenary’s hands squeezed the muscles of his ass in response, urging him on.
Peter felt his Spider Sense prickle and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but he brushed the sensation off as an overstimulated product of his and Wade’s amorous activities. Then he felt Wade freeze against him.
“You hear that, Petey?” Wade whispered, his lips still against Peter’s neck.
Unbeknownst to the duo, their private moment had inadvertently become a spectacle for two of Earth's Mightiest Heroes.
“No,” Peter whined, not paying his Spider Sense any mind when it tingled again, this time with even more urgency. He tugged at Wade’s shoulders to bring his lips back up and said, “less talking, more kissing.”
They heard the high-pitched whirs and low-frequency hums that heralded the appearance of a Quinjet at the same time. Peter reluctantly pulled away from Wade and looked past his broad shoulders to see a compact version of the Avenger’s favored form of transportation touch down at the mouth of the alley.
“Of-fucking- course they’d somehow manage to interrupt us,” Peter groaned, knocking his head against the brick behind him.
“Damn son, and it was just startin’ t’get good,” Wade whined as he pulled both their masks back down, hiding their faces from sight. Peter manhandled Wade’s shirt back into place and dropped himself back to the ground, pushing away from his large boyfriend just as Captain America and Iron Man stepped out of the jet.
“What the...?” Cap’s voice trailed off as he took in the scene. But ever the emblem of virtue and duty, he cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. “Deadpool. Aren’t you in a relationship with Peter ?” Said man had a moment to wonder how Cap had found out about them (before realizing he’d definitely given them away in his fit of pique the other day, and obviously Stark hadn’t been able to keep that steaming mug of tea to himself) before Cap continued, “what’re you doing with Spider-Man?”
Peter’s eyes widened beneath his mask as he stammered, “uh, guys, it’s not—it’s not ...what it looks like.”
Iron Man snorted and shook his head, the face-plate on his helmet lifted to reveal his sardonic expression. “Uh, yeah , it definitely is . You horn-dogs were practically having sex right there,” he said with a shrug. “Not that we haven’t seen worse—” his gaze cut to Cap and then he doubled back, “not that I haven’t seen worse. But that is a federal crime.”
Wade, never one to miss a beat (much to Peter’s chagrin—if he couldn’t stop the smile that graced his lips at his boyfriend’s antics. Well. At least no one could see it from where it hid behind his mask), chimed in with a theatrical gasp, “oh, damn . We were supposed to keep our secret rendezvous a secret ! Knew we were forgettin’ somethin’.” He swooned with his hand against his heart, swaying into Peter’s side. “Right, Yellow? Secrets make everything hotter! But Pete-cute’ll never forgive us now.”
Peter resisted the urge to face palm, because that probably made what they were doing sound so much worse since Cap didn’t know his identity. His suspicion was confirmed when Cap fixed a hard gaze on Wade, his scowl clear when he noticed how Peter leaned into Wade and had subconsciously wrapped an arm around his thick waist.
“Wait, Peter doesn’t know about this?”
Peter, flustered and caught between revealing his identity and saving Wade from what would surely be the third degree from the Super Dads™, stumbled over his words. “No! I mean, yes ...but not—not like… that . I—uh, we—”
Cap crossed his arms, a stern look taking over his face. It simultaneously made Peter want to shrink into the brick at his back and punch the super soldier right across the jaw for insinuating either of them would do something so untoward. “Explain yourself, Wade.” Peter’s jaw clenched at the clear dismissal of him.
Wade sighed. “Well, I had this super-duper-pooper-scooper—ha! Like we’d need a pooper scooper, you know we had and enema so we could get that Spider-di—”
“Deadpool, focus !” Cap barked.
“—ick, tonight—amazing date planned, but my darling Spider-butt couldn’t keep his hands off me,” Wade purred, continuing as if he hadn’t been interrupted, as he leaned against the brick wall, the picture of nonchalance. Peter couldn’t help but admire the long line of him, the way he casually pulled a knife from… somewhere (Peter tried not to think about the amount of weapons Wade kept on his person at any given time), the way he so carelessly began flipping it. Stark’s awkward cough brought him back to himself and he shook his head.
“You're not helping our case here, Red,” Peter growled, crossing his arms and staring Cap down. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Stark stayed silent. He’d been sure his boss had known his secret identity for several years, so why wasn’t he coming to Wade’s defense?
“So,” Cap said, shaking his head, disappointment evident in his tone and stance. “You and Spider-Man are sneaking behind Peter’s back.”
Peter grappled with the weight of the misunderstanding he suddenly found himself in. His frustration with himself (and the two men who’d somehow appointed themselves as his adoptive father figures, though he’d never had a say in the matter) grew as he longed to set the record straight, but despised the idea of revealing his true identity to these men who’d brushed Spider-Man off as nothing but a naive, immature hero, so many times before.
“N-no!” Peter stuttered. “Like I said. It-it’s not like that.”
“Yes,” Wade answered. “It is.”
“We’re not !” Peter protested, shooting Wade a glare, but Cap’s frown had already turned into a hard line, his eyes glaring daggers at Wade. “Stop encouraging this nonsense, Wade,” Peter hissed.
He opened his mouth to try and explain the situation, but Wade pressed a glove hand in the space between his shoulder-blades. After all the time they’d been together, Peter knew this meant Wade had a plan. Amidst the charged atmosphere, Wade displayed an unexpected measure of restraint, which had Peter wondering if this plan would make Wade look bad in order to keep Peter’s identity a secret. He wouldn’t put it past his boyfriend to make the self-sacrificing play, even if it meant looking horrible in the eyes of Steve Rogers, the man whose opinion he cherished the most (outside of Peter’s own) in the entire multiverse.
Cap’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you, Deadpool,” he growled.
Peter watched in horror as the situation spun rapidly out of control, a maelstrom of misinformation and misunderstanding.
“You’ve got some nerve,” Iron Man finally chimed in, his tone a blend of amusement and incredulity. Even the gleam of his helmet somehow managed to look judgmental. “I mean, I’ve seen some wild scenarios, but isn’t Web-head a kid ? That’s a bold move, even for you, Dead tool .”
Wade, ever the maestro of chaos, raised an eyebrow and shot back with his signature bravado, “well, Anthony , love knows no bounds—well, ‘cept for clearly stated boundaries but that’s between the people in the relationship. And Spider-boi is a sucker for a man in red—wait, or is it the other way around? Cus I’m a sucker for him, obviously .” Peter knocked the soft sole of his boot back against Wade’s shin, to silently acknowledge the heartwarming statement that lit his insides into bashful little butterflies, even after all the time they’d been together.
Cap’s scowl deepened, and he turned his gaze back to Peter. “Is this true, Spider-Man?”
Peter, caught in the crossfire of his own tangled web (Heh! Web .) of secrets, and also caught off guard that they were implying Wade was taking advantage of him (he was twenty-three, almost twenty-four, he could make his own decisions thank you ) took a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Wade stepped forward.
“Who we sleep with is not something that falls under Avenger’s jurisdiction,” Wade said, his voice cold, having lost all cheer.
Cap’s eyes widened, and the lines in his face softened as he took in Wade’s tense stance. The two stared each other down, and Peter was impressed by the display of respect. He knew that Captain America had worked with Wade before, but had always thought it was because Cap was forced into it by S.H.I.E.L.D. or the UN. Seeing the tension leave the older man’s face, he realized that Cap actually respected and cared for the man his boyfriend had become.
“You’re right, son, it isn’t technically our business,” Cap said. After a moment, his face hardened again. “But morally , it’s wrong to cheat on people. If you don’t tell Peter about this rendezvous, then I’ll be forced to step in. For yours and Peter’s own good.”
Wade, for the first time in a long time, appeared truly flabbergasted. “Wha—”
“I have a feeling he’ll forgive you,” Cap continued. “You’re a good guy, and not a terrible influence on him, Wade. I don’t want you jeopardizing your relationship over a—over this. Tell Peter, or I will.”
Wade’s mouth snapped shut and his hands clenched into fists. He looked to Peter, and though Peter couldn’t see his boyfriend’s expression, he could feel the tension emanating off the large man. He could practically hear the gears grinding as Wade calculated the implications of Cap’s ultimatum.
“That’s not necessary,” Peter blurted, finally finding his voice and trying to think fast. “He already knows.”
Both men looked at him, and Cap’s face softened again. “I’m sorry, son, we should have let you speak your piece. I got a little carried away.”
“So, uh, he knows?” Tony asked, pointing at Wade.
It was the only way to keep his identity a secret, so Peter ran with it. “It’s—a uhm...throuple...type—situation.”
“Ooooh, throuple!” Wade squealed. “Two for the price of one? I love it!” He slipped his hand into Peter’s. “Spidey and Pete? The ass alone !”
“Uh, yeah. Right. We’re a throuple,” Peter said, trying to head off Wade’s tangent on his glutes. “I’m dating Wade. And—and Wade. Well, he’s dating Peter.” Peter gestured with his free hand at the mercenary and grimaced.
“It’s very complicated,” Wade said, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Peter sighed, rolling his eyes, not that Wade could tell since they were hidden by his Spider-Man mask. “But that’s what you get for wanting to keep our relationship a secret from everyone, Red.”
Wade huffed, his pout visible beneath his mask. “You’re not wrong, bubble butt. My bad.” His voice was filled with the regret of a man who’d been trying to do a good thing, and had only succeeded in making everything worse.
Cap’s head tilted in confusion. “Well...well then, I guess— uhm , I guess that’s it. Then.”
Peter cocked his head. “Wait—why’d you guys even come here, anyway?”
“We came to ask if you could give us a hand with a mission,” Iron Man finally spoke up. “We thought we’d be asking you and Deadpool separately…but. Well.” He motioned to the situation before him. “And anyway. We wanted to work with you both, since it’d be a lot for the two of you to handle on your own.” Peter had to resist the urge to physically react to the dig.
“I have a mission with the Young Avengers,” he said, his voice strained. “Sorry.” He did not feel that apologetic about missing out. He’d rather be around Kate and the crew any day of the week, than the Avenging Hypocrites.
“Oh, no worries,” Cap said, smiling and clapping a hand on his shoulder. Like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t just implied that Peter and Wade were cheaters, or that Wade was cradle robbing. Like they were best friends. Peter was glad his grimace was hidden by his mask.
The group was silent for a full minute, before Cap’s stomach growled, loudly.
“Well, this is awkward,” he muttered, his ears turning pink. “Anyway, Wade, make sure you give us a decision by tomorrow’s end of day.”
With that, Iron Man and Cap retreated to the jet and flew away, leaving Peter and Wade standing shocked in the alley.
“What. The. Hell . Just. Happened?” Peter asked, his voice low. Then he groaned. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to just tell them the truth and spare us, whatever the fuck that was.”
Wade’s head snapped up and his posture stiffened. “Do you think they’ll tell anyone? About us, I mean.”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t…think so? They’d have to explain they were butting into a private situation between ‘three’,” he held up air quotes, “adults.” Peter scratched the back of his head, “so hopefully that’ll keep them from blabbing.”
Wade relaxed. “True dat.” He then looked around the alley like he was trying to get his bearings. “Hey, wanna grab a ‘za slice or eight?”
Peter smiled, happy to move on from the tense conversation. “Sure, Red. Sounds great.”
The day had been exhausting for both Peter and Wade.
On their way to their favorite pizza place, they’d run into a lead on a group of arms dealers Spider-Man had been tailing for the last week. They’d managed to follow the group to a ramshackle building they’d made their headquarters, with Deadpool posing as a buyer. However, their impromptu mission almost immediately went awry, when Yellow convinced Deadpool to set off a bomb in the warehouse (Peter suspected the interaction with Cap and Iron Man had triggered him more than he’d previously admitted too, making him even more susceptible to his more violent urges—hence the fact that he actually listened to Yellow).
Spider-Man had barely leapt out of the building before it had been engulfed in the flames of the blast that had caught way too quickly. As it turned out, the arms dealers had also been trying to sell a new type of incendiary device, which had ignited as soon as the explosion had started (it was a win-win overall, even if it’d been a little rough in its execution: the new weapon was destroyed and off the streets, the cops called, and the arms dealers dealt with). Deadpool had apologized profusely for the scrape along Spider-Man’s cheek that he’d gotten when he’d had to tuck and roll out of the blast range, but Spider-Man, having known his boyfriend for so long, just took the improvised mayhem in stride (though he did convince Deadpool to pay for three takeout pizzas as an acceptable apology).
As they made their way back to their apartment, the air was thick with a sense of weariness from the botched mission and the weird interaction with the Super Dads, yet a lingering camaraderie wrapped around them like a comforting cocoon. They settled in the living room, Fur-gie curled on the cushion between them, the scent of pizza wafting through the air. Wade slouched on the couch, having changed out of the Deadpool gear and into a pair of sweats and a hoodie. He’d even neglected to put on his lounge mask, showing off the pensive expression written across his scarred face.
Peter, sensing Wade’s internal struggle, decided to break the silence.
“You okay?” he asked, his concern evident in the wrinkle in his brow as he stretched out, finally relaxed now that he’d changed into a pair of sleep pants and one of Wade’s old band tees.
Wade opened his eyes, and there was a vulnerability in them that Peter rarely saw. “Yeah, Peter-kins, just sometimes it’s...hard to keep track, you know? Of what’s…good and not good.” He sighed. “I know you said it’s okay, but I hate that my actions did that to you. Or that I may have fucked up your standing with the Super Sanctimonious Squad.” His thumb brushed Peter’s cheek where the scrape had scabbed over and was well on its way to healing. “White and Yellow are parts of me, but they’re also their own …thing. It’s like having roommates in my head, but I can’t just kick ‘em out when I want. And they’re—they’re so good at talking me into things.”
Peter nodded. “I get it.” He turned his head to kiss the inside of Wade’s wrist. “I’m sorry you have to navigate that all the time.”
Wade shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “ Eh , you get used to it. ‘Sides, having a couple’a extra voices in here can be entertaining.” He tapped his temple playfully. “Lotta song lyrics and sexy thoughts.”
Peter chuckled, feeling a mixture of amusement and sympathy for his boyfriend (not for the first time, he actively hated Weapon X for what they’d done to Wade—he’d assured Peter the thought boxes had only shown up after his extended period of torture masquerading as an experimental cure for cancer).
“Well, if you ever want to introduce me to White or Yellow, I’m open to it.” He crawled into Wade’s lap, disturbing Meowty McFly to the point that she chirped angrily and stormed off to their bedroom, likely to curl up on their pillows. “The more, the merrier, right?”
Wade’s vulnerable expression shifted into a more appreciative one as Peter settled into his embrace. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of Peter’s body pressed into his.
“Yeah, it’s a whole party up here,” Wade said, tapping his temple again. “White’s the voice of reason, and Yellow...well, Yellow’s the one who throws caution to the wind and lights things on fire just to watch them burn. Keeps life int’restin’.”
“And you’re my Red.” Peter chuckled, a genuine smile playing on his lips. “I guess every hero needs a little chaos now and then.”
“I’m a hero now?” Wade asked, keeping his eyes closed, though his lips turned up in a smirk.
Peter nodded and kissed his cheek. “ My hero.”
Wade opened his eyes to meet Peter’s gaze. “Thanks for…taking all this— me —in stride. Some people can’t handle the whole split-personality thing.”
Peter placed a reassuring hand on Wade’s shoulder. “Hey, we all have our quirks. Yours are just a bit more...internal. But that doesn’t change anything between us, okay? You’re still the guy I fell for, multiple personalities—or maybe schizophrenia, who actually knows?—and all.”
Wade’s smile softened, a genuine warmth replacing the vulnerability in his eyes. “You really are one of a kind, Lovebug.”
Peter leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Wade’s forehead. “And you’re my favorite chimichanga-loving, wise-cracking, mentally unstable ex-merc with the bestest mouth.” Peter cleared his throat, trying, and struggling, to keep his thoughts PG. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Wade chuckled, the tension from earlier dissipating. “You’re too good for me, Spidey-cake. But m’not complaining.”
As they settled into a comfortable silence, Peter couldn’t help but marvel at the complexity of the man he loved. He knew that navigating the intricacies of Wade’s mind would be an ongoing journey, but he was more than willing to be a constant presence in the chaotic symphony of White, Yellow, and Wade (Red). They rested together in companionable silence, until Peter got a craving and convinced Wade to pull out the tub of mint chocolate chip ice-cream from their freezer. He had fun sharing frozen kisses with his boyfriend for a while until they both eased back into the couch.
After a few moments of silence, Peter asked, “if White and Yellow are parts of you, does that mean I could meet one of them and hold a legit conversation with them? Like people with Dissociative Identity Disorder?”
To which Wade responded, “I dunno, maybe.”
Wade closed his eyes for a moment, breathed deep, and leaned heavily against Peter’s chest. Wade’s eyes remained closed, his mind seemingly searching through the labyrinth of his thoughts. He took another deep breath, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate. Peter watched him curiously, his spoon of ice cream poised in mid-air. Peter blinked as he placed the ice-cream in his mouth, but between one moment and the next, Wade had somehow turned and faced him. He wore a manic smirk on his lips and had a menacing, violent gleam in his dark eyes, a look he hadn’t seen on Wade’s face in several years. The hair on the back of Peter’s neck stood on end and his Spidey Sense whispered, danger .
“Nice to finally meet you, Yellow,” Peter murmured, as he placed another scoop of ice-cream into his mouth.
Yellow’s smirk widened, revealing Wade’s bright white teeth (Peter was intimately familiar with those pearly-whites, but somehow, with Yellow behind the wheel, they looked distinctly predatory). The sudden shift in his boyfriend’s demeanor sent a chill down Peter’s spine, and he couldn’t help but grip the spoon a little tighter.
“Nice to meet you too, Web-butt,” Yellow growled, their voice taking on a darker, more menacing tone that resonated with an unsettling edge, markedly distinct from Wade’s usual sing-song, cheerfulness.
Peter’s Spidey Sense warned that something wasn’t right, but it was barely a grumble against his mind. He tried to maintain a casual demeanor, though his instincts urged him to be cautious. “So, what’s on your mind, Yellow?”
Wade’s alter ego leaned in, their face inches from Peter’s. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Mayhem, chaos, a sprinkle of destruction…the good stuff.”
Peter forced a laugh, attempting to downplay the rising tension. “Right, the good stuff. But, uh, we’re not going to cause any trouble, are we?”
Yellow’s predatory grin morphed into a mischievous leer. “Trouble? Oh, Baby Boy, you and I have a different definition of trouble. I’m more of a chaos enthusiast, you see.”
Swallowing nervously, Peter decided to tread carefully. “Wade usually keeps things under control. Are you sure he’s okay with you taking over like this?”
Yellow chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Peter’s spine. “Red’s taking a little vacation, and he left me in charge. Don’t worry, I’ll give you back your cuddly boyfriend soon enough.”
Peter’s eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape route. “Yeah, about that...I think I prefer conversing with him.”
“You wound me, Web-wonder.” Yellow’s laughter echoed through the room, a haunting sound that seemed to linger in the air. “He’s gotten too soft. But don’t worry, Spidey, I’ll make sure you have a memorable evening.”
Peter braced himself for whatever chaotic antics Yellow had in store, realizing that navigating the unpredictable landscape of Wade’s mind was about to become even more challenging. Then an idea struck him. He pulled the man into his lap and claimed his mouth with a rough kiss. He hoped that by doing this, he’d stave off any of Yellow’s more homicidal tendencies by setting the tone of their interaction to sensual instead of deadly. Yellow seemed to take the bait and returned the kiss, but then their eyes snapped open and locked with Peter’s. They smiled a dangerous smile, a knowing look in their eyes, and Peter’s gut sank, sensing the shift.
“You’re so predictable, Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater,” said Yellow, and Peter flinched.
“What?”
“Doesn't matter though.” Yellow leaned in and pressed their nose to Peter’s pulse point. And inhaled. Peter gulped, and Yellow pressed a scarred finger to his throat, pushing uncomfortably against his Adam’s apple. “I’ve wanted to make you ours since the first time we met you.”
“And what makes you think you have the upper hand, here?”
“You can’t outrun us, Spider-booty.” Yellow leaned in and licked a wet stripe up his neck. Their laugh was dark when they felt Peter’s heart rate increase where their hand had loosely circled his throat. “We’re inevitable. More-so than even Death.”
A low whine escaped Peter when Yellow squeezed his neck, just a little bit. Just enough for him to feel it. The act was rough, and dangerous, and...absolutely the hottest thing Wade had ever done to him. Peter had a moment to think he really shouldn’t be this turned on with Wade’s alter ego all but devouring him with dark brown eyes (usually filled with gentle love and kindness) full of lust and desire for things to hurt . But the last of his rational brain left him when Yellow’s hands gripped him tighter and flipped him on his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.
“Don’t worry, Spidey,” Yellow crooned, voice soft and rough. The sound sent heat spiraling into Peter’s groin. Then they bit the back of Peter’s neck. Hard . “I’ll make it good for ya.”
Taking back control, and knowing that every version of Wade would submit to him, even if they put up a fight, Peter forced a laugh from his tight lungs. “I wish you’d do something, then.”
Yellow froze for a moment. But only for a moment. Then they said, “that sounds like a challenge, my darling arachnid. I think I like you like this, underneath me, and all mine.”
“I think you’re gonna have to make me yours,” Peter grunted as Yellow grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind his back.
The protest in his muscles caused his cock to jump in interest and Peter momentarily wondered what the hell wires were crossed in his brain, where he was hot and bothered by Wade’s most volatile, least inhibited alter, manhandling him. Peter forced his mind back into the present as he heard a familiar thwip! and felt sticky fluid binding his wrists together.
“When did you steal my web shooter?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter, Cutie-man,” Yellow intoned, tossing said web shooter across the room. It landed gently on the armchair and Peter was glad Yellow had at least had the control not to break it. “Now, where were we?”
Yellow’s hand, still gripping Peter’s bound wrists, squeezed tighter. The roughness was just a little bit painful and, oh God , Peter was hard. He pushed his ass back into the hard length he felt straining through Wade’s sweats.
“You were trying—and failing, might I add—to show me a good time,” Peter egged on, biting back a moan when Yellow roughly and unceremoniously shoved the offending fabric of Peter’s sleep pants down his legs.
“Ooh, a sassy bottom, I like that,” Yellow said.
Peter couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled up from his chest, his hips thrusting involuntarily into the couch cushion. “A sassy bottom who knows how to handle a Daddy like you.” Peter tried not to flinch when Yellow ripped his t-shirt, pushing the halves down to his wrists. “You gonna do something good? I don’t have all day.”
Yellow let out a low growl. “You’re gonna pay for that, little spider.”
“Promise?” Peter taunted, grinding his now exposed ass into Yellow’s straining cock. He gasped when a slap landed, loud and sharp, against his cheek, next to his hole. His cock started to leak. “C’mon Yellow, you can do better than that .”
Yellow snarled, snapping their teeth so close to Peter’s neck, he was shocked they didn’t pierce skin. Instead, they hauled him up and shoved him against the breakfast bar in a way that turned Peter’s knees to jelly (Wade was a mountain of a man who rarely manhandled Peter quite the way he wanted—but it seemed Yellow had no such compunction).
“What was that?”
Peter laughed. “I said ,” he drawled, turning to look over his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows in challenge, ignoring his Spider Sense when it murmured fight! Interesting that his Spider Sense didn't seem all that worried about Yellow as a perceived threat. Was the alter dangerous? Yeah. Were they going to seriously harm Peter? Probably not. “You can do better than that, you pussy.”
“You’re gonna regret those words,” Yellow warned.
“Doubt it,” Peter goaded, rolling his eyes, “I can take anything you can dish out, big boy.”
“ That’s it,” Yellow growled, and before Peter could blink, he was hoisted up, over the breakfast bar, and tossed unceremoniously to the floor on his belly. His lip caught the edge of one of the wooden chairs, and the pain of it splitting settled hot and heavy in his belly, forcing more pre-cum to dribble out of his dick. Huh. He was learning all kinds of things about himself tonight.
“Shit, that’s gonna leave a mark,” Peter grunted, licking the blood off his lip.
“I’ll be leaving a lot more marks if you don’t shut that pretty mouth of yours,” Yellow warned.
“Give me something to keep me quiet then, fucktoy,” Peter spat.
Several minutes later found Peter bent over the breakfast bar as Yellow pressed a sharp knife almost lovingly against his throat, fucking mercilessly into Peter’s hole, which they’d barely prepped at all. The burn and stretch added to Peter’s already heady arousal.
“God, harder , you complete fuckin’ ass ,” Peter panted, straining against the webbing but not breaking free (even though he easily could).
“I’m fuckin’ your ass,” Yellow cackled, biting Peter’s shoulder hard enough to bleed.
“You’re all talk and no bite , El,” Peter gasped, pressing his ass farther into the man’s crotch.
“Oh, I’ll show you bite, Spidey-butt,” Yellow whispered darkly into Peter’s ear.
Suddenly the knife, which, up until that point, had really only been a prop, pressed into the soft skin of Peter’s right peck, just enough to draw a little line of blood. Peter hissed in a breath. The stinging sensation of the cut made his cock jump, and his hole clench, and his heart hammer in his chest. It felt dangerous and exciting, and exactly what he wanted. What he didn’t even know he needed . It was a heady feeling, this line they danced, as if on the edge of a blade. One wrong move could send either of them spiraling. But Peter trusted all versions of Wade completely. He knew Yellow wouldn’t give more than he could take.
“That it, El?” Peter urged, kicking out at the man’s legs so that they tumbled to the ground. Peter then crawled into Yellow’s lap. “I can do better than that, myself.”
Familiar brown eyes stared up at him with an unfamiliar amount of possessiveness.
“Then do it,” Yellow hissed, as he brought the knife up to press against Peter’s creamy, smooth thighs.
Peter moaned at the warm, prickling feeling of the sharp blade against his skin. He scrambled to steady the man’s cock with his wrists still bound behind him, so he could sink down on it. He used the man’s bent knees as leverage behind him to help him bounce on their shaft faster. Yellow smirked up at him and began cutting small letters into Peter’s left thigh. The bite of the metal into his flesh was an unexpected addition that pushed him just a little closer to the edge.
Peter let his head fall back as his breathing increased, and a deep-seated, desperate need overtook him. The feeling of the blood trailing down his leg as Yellow wrote whatever they were writing, the feeling of the blunt head of Yellow’s dick rubbing insistently against his prostate, the feeling of his balls tightening in anticipation of an impending release...it was almost too much.
“Please,” Yellow whined, their voice tight, like they weren’t sure what exactly they were asking for, but willing to do just about anything to get it. “Please, Petey-pie.”
“Fuck, so good for me Daddy,” Peter gasped, his pace increasing. His own dick slapped his stomach in a hot, wet slide, the sound obscene. “Love the feeling of your big cock. You fill me so well.” He liked that Wade’s praise kink made it through the labyrinth of his mind to even this most base of his instincts. “You’re so good to me.”
“Please, please, please ,” Yellow begged, their body going stiff, and their hips thrusting up. Peter could feel their cock pulsing in him and he moaned.
“Cum for me, El,” Peter commanded, clenching his hole and swiveling his hips the way he knew Wade usually liked. “Fuck Daddy, cum for me.”
With a long, low groan, Yellow’s entire body went rigid as he released. The force of their orgasm caused their cock to slip out of Peter, their come shooting out of the head and up his abs and chest. The sight of even Yellow losing control like that, sent him over the edge. Peter didn’t see his orgasm coming (heh, cuming)—it slammed into him like a semi-truck speeding down a highway.
When he finally came down from the high of his climax, he looked down to see Wade’s concerned eyes staring up at him, sane (or as sane as Wade could be, at any given moment) once again.
“Mmm, hey, Red,” Peter said, leaning down to lay his head on Wade’s chest, breaking the webbing, and hugging Wade around the neck. He pressed several butterfly kisses to Wade’s chest and collar bone.
“Hey, Red? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Wade’s voice was edged with something that sounded close to hysteria.
Peter sat up to look at Wade more carefully, but the man wouldn’t meet his eyes. He followed Wade’s gaze to his left thigh, where he saw a crude Deadpool symbol had been cut into his already healing leg as well as the letters “E” and “L”.
“Huh, guess they approve of the nickname,” Peter said as he shifted so that he could settle more comfortably against Wade.
Wade turned a wide-eyed stare towards Peter. He looked like he was on the verge of tears and Peter was tired enough that he missed the way Wade caressed the mark on his thigh, regretfully.
“What’s wrong, love?” Peter asked as he pulled Wade into his arms, hugging him gently. “Are you okay?”
“Am I—am I okay?!” Wade exclaimed.
“Did you not like what—uh—we did?”
“Peter, they hurt you.”
“They’re all a part of you, Red,” Peter said, kissing Wade’s cheek. “And I don’t mind a little soreness.”
Wade grabbed his own head in a way Peter knew meant he was dangerously close to a breakdown, but it was the use of his full name that brought Peter up short. There was no half joking “Baby Boy” or a loving “Petey-pie” or an exasperated “Pete”. Just…Peter, full stop. It suddenly hit Peter that Wade had never once called him that. He instantly didn’t like what that meant for them. “ I hurt you. I hurt you .”
“Wade, honey, no,” Peter was quick to disagree, gently linking their fingers so Wade couldn’t keep squeezing his skull. Peter did not have the mental faculties to clean brain juice off the floor after that kind of orgasm. “I enjoyed it. I told them that they could.”
“No, you didn’t! You didn’t say anything like that!”
“Okay, first of all, you could hear?”
“Yeah, Peter. I was there, in the background, inside my own Goddamned head, and I couldn’t stop them from cutting you up and—”
“Stop!” Peter snapped. “Red, I liked it. I promise, it was good.”
Wade blinked up at him and his eyes were so watery, Peter was surprised he hadn’t burst into tears yet.
“Shh, Wade, it’s okay—no, look at me, love,” Peter said, gripping Wade’s chin hard and forcing his head up when he wouldn’t look at Peter. “It. Is. Okay. Do I look like someone who regrets anything? Well, anything besides the freak out you’re having right now? I told them they had no bite, right after they’d just bitten me. Knives can bite skin. It was a play on words and they understood. I was in control the whole time.”
“You were not—”
“Wade, I could’ve easily broken out of the webbing, or told them to stop, at any time—I didn’t. They could’ve easily cut me deeper, or seriously injured me, at any time—they didn’t. Not until after I’d given them permission. Either one of us could’ve easily safe worded out—we didn’t. I egged them on, Red, if you don’t recall. Purposefully, too, I might add, because they’re an asshole and need to be knocked down a peg or two.” Peter peppered Wade’s face with small kisses and rubbed his hands down Wade’s tense shoulders. “You seem to forget that I have enhanced speed, strength, and have beaten you in a full out fight more than once. I can handle you at your worst, love. There was no more danger there than if I’d picked up Lucipurr while she was asleep.”
“But your leg —”
“Is already healed,” Peter replied as he glanced down to see a light scar in place of where the shallow cuts had been. It would be gone by the next morning. “They aren’t you, but they are a part of you. And no molecule of your being would hurt me unless I asked you to. Okay?”
Wade nodded silently, but Peter still felt unsettled. Wade didn’t go silent, it was rarely done.
“What is it, baby?”
“I-I thought….”
“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Just, tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry, Peter.”
“For what, my love?”
“You—you should’ve had the choice.”
“What choice, Wade? What’re you talking about?”
“You didn’t have a choice, before.”
“I had the choice not to, Red. That’s all the choice I need.”
“But—but they’re—”
“Part of you. I chose them, as part of you. Because I love all parts of you, Wade. You should know that by now.”
Wade stared down at his lap, but not before Peter caught the tears welling up in his eyes again. He knew he had to tread carefully.
“You didn’t choose them. They made the choice. They made the choice to touch you. To hurt you. You didn’t want them.” He sniffled. “You kissed them to keep them from hurting you. I know your tactics.”
Peter sighed. He couldn’t say he was surprised that the events of tonight were bringing up Wade’s fears. But after such a rough scene, he knew he’d have to push his brain back into his skull from where his dick had ejected it, and deal with Wade’s apparent guilt and his textbook sub-drop.
“Red, do you really think I would’ve let them do all that, if I hadn’t wanted them to?”
Wade shrugged, and his head drooped even lower.
“Do you think I would have enjoyed that, if I hadn’t consented? Would I have stayed and had fun with it, if I’d really wanted them gone? If I’d really not wanted them to do that, do you think I would have kept egging them on, rather than throwing them off me and webbing them up and leaving the apartment until you came back online? We had that great experience together, because I said we could. They didn’t break my web shooters when they easily could’ve. They even asked me if they could cum, love. Do you think they’d have asked if they could do that, if they’d been trying to actually hurt me?”
Wade’s only response was a shrug, which was concerning, to say the least.
“You don’t know the answer, or you won’t say?”
“Don’t know,” Wade mumbled.
“Okay, that’s fair.” Peter moved the both of them to the couch and shifted so they were lying down, his arms around Wade, their legs tangled. “Let’s try something else, then.” Peter took a deep breath and forged ahead. “Are you…were you okay with them…using your body to fuck me—outside of the rough parts?” Peter asked, squinting his eyes the way he did when he couldn’t quite figure out an equation.
“What? Oh. That. Yeah. I’ll fuck you in every way physically possible—and maybe some that aren’t—before we meet our end,” Wade said, pulling Peter closer and burying his face in Peter’s chest, kissing the place where the first cut had been, but that was completely healed now. “That wasn’t a problem. I just…I never wanna hurt you Peter. Never you. And they did."
Peter ran his hands over Wade’s pockmarked, bald head. He wondered what was going on in his boyfriend’s mind, that led to these kinds of thoughts, this kind of guilt. Not for the first time, he wished he could reach in and pluck out all the bad thoughts and leave the good ones behind, so that Wade could have a moment of peace. He kissed the crown of Wade’s head and sighed, knowing that wouldn’t happen, not anytime soon, at least.
“Love, they didn’t hurt me,” Peter said, softly. “Not in any way I didn’t consent to, with full knowledge of what was happening.” He pressed his forehead against Wade’s like, if he tried hard enough, somehow he could download his memory of the incident into his boyfriend’s head. Show him how excited the whole thing had made him. “My Spider Sense was barely a whisper, with them around. Yellow’s dangerous, sure, just by existing, but they’re not going to kill me.”
“How can you know that, Spidey? How can you be so sure?” And suddenly, Peter got the distinct feeling they weren’t talking about Wade’s alters, anymore. Maybe Wade himself was scared of hurting Peter, a valid concern to have when he constantly had to wait for his memories to come back after significant head trauma, or when his first reaction was to shoot first, or when—well. But Peter knew Wade too well to ever let things get to that point.
“Because you’d never let that happen, not if you could stop it.” Peter smiled and pressed his lips to the corner of Wade’s mouth. “And when you can’t stop, I’ll do it for you.” He shrugged. “If they were going to kill me, it would’ve happened the first time I let you stay the night. Hell, the first time I met you.”
“I remember,” Wade whispered, sounding so, so far away.
“I signed that shirt for you,” Peter said, brushing Wade’s silent tears off his cheeks. “You were so happy to meet me.”
“I was,” Wade agreed.
“And, a couple months later, you found me at the laundromat, like fate needed us to be together again. Do you remember that, love?”
“I do.”
“Then, a couple days after that, you saved my life during that Hydra attack. Months later, you saved me from a simultaneous meltdown and panic attack. You stayed with me and made me laugh and relax and you took such great care of me, like you always do. You’re always there whenever I need you. You’re always trying to be so good for me, in big and small ways, every single day.” Peter sighed as he remembered his most treasured memories of their love story. “You even stopped killing for me.”
“Yeah,” Wade said, finally looking up at Peter with a watery smile.
“You can’t hurt me in a way that’ll stick, love. You never have, you never will.” Peter grinned, releasing a silent sigh at the first sign of a positive emotion. He relaxed.
“Promise?” Wade asked.
“Yeah. I promise. Pinky promise, even.” Peter hooked his little finger around Wade’s.
“And you’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m peachy keen, jellybean,” Peter said as he hugged Wade, his hands rubbing soothingly over his shoulders. “I loved every second, Red. Promise. But next time, we’ll definitely talk about it first, negotiate some things, and establish rules.” He nuzzled his cheek against Wade’s. “Learned some new things about myself tonight.”
“Okay…but,” Peter tensed, ready to deal with another breakdown, “El? Really? That’s what you chose, Baby Boy?”
Peter snorted out a laugh and knew that everything would be alright.
“ You try thinking of a nickname while your ass is being pounded into next week and you can barely breathe because you’re screaming in pleasure,” Peter replied, bopping Wade’s nose, playfully. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it. You masturbate to fantasies of Eliot from The Magicians , like once a week.”
“How do you even know these things?” Wade asked, turning incredulous eyes up at Peter.
“Dude, I’m a fuckin’ genius and I’m obsessed with, like, literally everything you do,” Peter deadpanned, shrugging. “I know a lot about you, mostly because you don’t hide, like, anything from me. And you’re not subtle. And don’t get me started on the virus you gave my laptop from all the porn you downloaded.”
“Aw Petey-pie, you’re so sweet,” Wade said, pressing a kiss to Peter’s chin. The nickname alone eased all of the rest of the tension from Peter’s body.
“Sweet on you ,” Peter replied.
Wade made a disgusted face and dumped Peter on the floor as he stood.
“Oh God, Spides, that line was so awful.”
Peter chased him to their bedroom and tackled him to the bed with a hungry kiss.
“You know you love me,” Peter said, biting his lip and staring at him with big, pleading, puppy dog eyes.
“I do. Unfortunately,” Wade teased.
“You love the awful lines and the nicknames and the cuddles and the—”
“Bambie, Angel Face, sweetheart, light of my life, if you don’t shut up right now and just kiss me, I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass—”
“Kinky!”
“Peter Benjamin Parker.”
“Ooh, middle-naming me now. Daddy’s mad .”
“Oh, I’m more than mad. I’m fucking pissed.”
“Well then. Let’s see what we can do about that.”
It was another hour before either of them remembered that their ice cream had probably melted and their pizza had gotten cold.
They ordered a new pizza and ate the melted ice cream in bed anyway.