Chapter Text
Peter has three policies with which he lives by.
The first and most widely known policy is this: with great power comes great responsibility. Yeah, everyone’s heard it before, and that’s Peter’s own fault. By the time he was 21, much of New York was finally on Spider-Man’s side. Rather than fighting off villains and police officers at the same time, Peter was instead able to assist the cops and even get informed of the situation by them. Instead of getting street food thrown at him as he swung by, vendors would dare to offer him a free hotdog.
Hell, even The Bugle wasn’t so hard on him anymore. Yeah, Jameson still criticized almost everything Spider-Man did, but he no longer prevented the creation of articles that sought to praise him. That’s how Peter ended up agreeing to be interviewed for a Daily Bugle article, where Uncle Ben’s profound words thus became generally known to anyone who’d ever heard of Spider-Man.
(Spider-Man said that he hadn’t immediately decided to become a superhero after coming into his powers, his judgement especially clouded by youth, but that it didn’t take long for the notion to take hold. “My uncle died shortly after I got my powers. He told me, ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ After I’d had some time to grieve, I realized that it was my responsibility to help the people of New York.”)
Peter’s second policy is to not lose sight of who he is. There are times when crime seems more abundant, even non-stopping, and it was a hard lesson to learn that Peter can’t be Spider-Man all the time. Without enough sleep and without enough time away from streets, Peter can’t truly help anyone. Not if he’s so exhausted that he makes stupid mistakes, or so lost in the haze of fighting crime that he makes bad judgements and apprehends people who deserve a second chance, or at least the benefit of the doubt.
Plus, he deserves to enjoy his life too. Making himself a priority is still difficult sometimes, but Peter tries to relax when he can.
Which brings him to his third policy. Peter is determined to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. That means binging a TV show if he wants to or buying an overpriced coffee on occasion, even if his budget and wallet would much more greatly appreciate him abstaining.
That’s why Peter is here. Right now. Enjoying one of life’s many pleasures.
“Fuck, fuck, please!” Peter gasps, somewhat naked and entirely disheveled on Deadpool’s couch. His mask is pulled up to his nose, as it always is whenever they’re fucking. The top half of his suit is still on and growing more and more uncomfortably sweaty, and his pants are pulled down just far enough to give Wade room between his legs.
Wade is kneeling on the floor, Peter’s legs thrown over his shoulders and the top of his pants — only midway down his thighs — ensuring that he stays there. The coffee table has been bumped backward and sideways, thanks to Wade’s eagerness to get his face between Peter’s legs.
Here he is: the one person in the world who knows that Spider-Man is trans. If announcing this little fact would ensure that everyone would eat him out as wondrously as Wade does, maybe Peter would consider telling more people.
Wade pulls away with a gasp, the lower half of his face shining with wetness. His hands tighten on Peter’s hips, trapping him in place rather than simply holding him as he was before, when he was letting Peter grind desperately against his mouth.
“Wade—” Peter says, his voice strangled, his clit throbbing.
“Jesus, baby boy,” Wade groans. His voice is deeper than usual, gravelly with arousal. He turns his head, dropping a kiss to the inside of Peter’s thigh, and then immediately replacing it with a bite. Peter whines, his hips twitching uselessly under Wade’s hands. “You should let me record this. I wanna hear the sounds you’re making on repeat.”
Peter flushes, turned on at the thought of his every reaction being captured on Wade’s phone, but way too paranoid to actually go through with it. “Go back to what you were doing and you’ll hear them again,” Peter huffs, wriggling impatiently. Wade’s grin is sharp, amused.
“What, no more ‘please’ and ‘thank you’s?” he teases.
Peter’s in the middle of thinking of some sort of witty reply when Wade resumes what he was doing, making Peter choke on a breath instead. Wade’s mouth is wet and hot and perfect on Peter, his tongue constantly drawing more reactions out of him.
“Oh God, oh fuck!” Peter gasps, his fingers digging into couch as he squeezes Wade even closer with his legs, moving desperately against his mouth. Wade moans, sucks, and then Peter’s crying out, jerking against Wade’s lips as he cums, his body shaking.
Wade coaxes him through the aftershocks but barely wastes a second before pulling Peter’s pants the rest of the way off, flipping him sideways along the couch. Wade scoots in between his legs, drops a kiss on Peter’s lips, and then fucks into him in one smooth motion.
Peter whimpers at the overstimulation, struggling weakly but allowing himself to be pinned. This has to be one of Wade’s favorite ways to fuck him. First, he gets to drive Peter crazy while staying level-headed himself — always a favorite pastime of his — and then he gets to fuck a sensitive, whiney, twitchy Spider-Man, which obviously turns him on more than he’s ever actually admitted. It’s only obvious because of how often Wade makes it happen.
It’s good for Peter, too, even if it’s a little overwhelming at first. He clenches around Wade constantly, his body still coming down from his orgasm, and what starts as pleasure too overwhelming to be enjoyable quickly morphs into pleasure so enjoyable as to be overwhelming.
“God, Spidey,” Wade grunts, having pressed Peter’s knees to his chest, effectively bending him in half as he fucks him. “You feel so good. Look so good.”
Wade can talk through anything, even vigorous fucking. Peter, on the other hand? His sensibilities abandon him almost the second Wade gets a hand into his pants. Peter’s pretty sure Wade likes that, too, considering Peter is normally just as talkative as him.
But in moments like this, Peter is usually only good for saying please and more and harder.
“Please!” Peter gasps. “H-harder.” Jeez. Like clockwork.
Wade chuckles, leaning more of his weight onto Peter’s legs and fucking into him hard, fast. Peter’s eyes slip shut, his breath catching in his chest, as Wade groans and then cums, stuttering into Peter with a moan.
The second he pulls out, Peter thrusts his hand between his own legs, rubbing his clit quickly to follow Wade over the edge. It’s been a long time since he’s been embarrassed to touch himself in front of Wade, and in seconds, he’s cumming and gasping too.
“Fuck,” Wade breathes, reaching over and rubbing Peter for an extra second or two after Peter stops, just to see him twitch. “That’s always so fucking hot.”
Peter groans, shoving Wade’s hand away. Wade just intertwines their fingers and rests their hands on Peter’s thigh.
“I only do that when you don’t make me cum,” Peter points out, just to be a little bit of a dick. He doesn’t actually mind, considering Wade already brought him to orgasm once.
Wade grins. “And that only happens after I’ve already made you cum,” he says. “Internal stimulation alone doesn’t do it for ya after you’ve just had an orgasm.”
Peter blushes. That’s… entirely accurate. And while Peter knew that, he didn’t realize that Wade knew that. “Um. Yeah,” Peter says.
“Besides, maybe I do it on purpose,” Wade says, his grin growing wider. “Maybe I like watching you finish yourself.”
Peter’s flush can no longer be ignored. He shakes off Wade’s hand and scoots backward in order to sit up.
“Hand me those?” Peter asks, standing up and holding a hand out for his pants. Wade reaches across the couch to where he threw them and his packer and hands them over silently, watching as Peter gets dressed.
Once Peter’s in order again, his mask pulled back down below his chin, he grabs his phone from where it’d fallen to the floor during their activities and taps the screen.
Crap.
It’s after 2 a.m., which means that Peter won’t be getting much sleep before work tomorrow. He also missed a call from Aunt May, likely her attempt to reach him on her way home from a late nursing shift — damn — and his monthly reminder has popped up, informing him that rent is due tomorrow.
“You could stay over,” Wade says, his voice equally pestering and hopeful. “We could watch a movie. Or play video games. Or—”
“Sorry,” Peter interrupts, shoving his phone into the hidden pocket in his suit. “I have stuff early in the morning, so.”
Wade nods, clearing his throat.
Peter makes it a point never to stay over. In fact, he never really goes to Wade’s apartment for any purpose other than what they just accomplished. If Peter accepts an invitation to Wade’s apartment, they both know exactly why he’s coming and exactly how long he’ll stay.
They’re friends, sure, but they’re better at being friends out on patrol than they are at being friends anywhere else. Here, they’re definitely more benefits than friends.
And if Peter stays any longer, they’ll just end up fucking again. He’s accepted invitations to watch movies before, having felt too tired to swing home right away, and it always, always leads to a repeat of their earlier activities.
“See you tomorrow?” Peter offers.
“Definitely.”
Peter fist bumps Wade before walking past him and climbing out the window, giving him a wave before leaping out of view.
He and Wade have a long and tumultuous history. They’ve been friends longer than they’ve been decidedly not friends, and the fact that they added benefits to that title is probably already toeing the line of what’s smart, especially considering how intensely they were Not Friends. But that’s a completely different story.
These days, Wade is a contradiction. Like this:
Wade is the person Peter feels the most comfortable around. He can say almost anything to him easily. During sex, he can ask for what he wants without fear of embarrassment. He can tell him what he likes, hates, and any other matter of things, outside of and including sex.
He’s also the person Peter’s the least comfortable around. Peter knows from experience that Wade can be unpredictable and violent. He’s probably the most dangerous person Peter could possibly have discover his identity, and despite the fact that Wade’s never tried to figure it out, Peter can’t help being afraid of slipping up. Plus, it scares him how easy it is to exist around Wade. Even with his brain telling him all the reasons he should be on edge, his body ignores the warnings and never acts accordingly.
He’s the person Peter shares the most of himself with. He’s the person Peter keeps the most secrets from.
He’s funny and sweet and heartfelt. He’s violent and rash and dramatic.
He’s a walking, talking paradox.
Still, Peter’s somewhat conflicting emotions aren’t going to change anything.
Before Wade, he hadn’t had much luck with anything to do with sex. There’d been a few sad attempts — mostly awkward and unenjoyable — and Peter had silently resigned himself to swear off sex until he was in a relationship. Which wouldn’t happen anytime soon, for obvious reasons such as Spider-Man and paranoia and fear.
And then there was Wade.
He was the first person Peter enjoyed having sex with. Not just enjoyed, even. He loved it. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was physically impossible to masturbate without imagining Wade.
They’re just compatible. Their sex is good and both of them know it. They know what each other likes in bed and they know exactly how to touch one another, how to kiss each other, how to do everything and anything to each other.
Neither of them can possibly give it up. No way in hell does Peter want to attempt to get to know someone the way he already knows Wade. And Wade has enough of his own issues that he wouldn’t appreciate looking for sex elsewhere, either.
Not that either of them want to look elsewhere, anyway. It’s just — even if Peter did want to, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do it. Which is why it’s perfectly fine that he enjoys having sex with Wade and even hanging out with him as much as he does.
Peter, so lost in his thoughts, almost misses it when his spidey-sense tingles. It’s a rare day when his spidey-sense manages to slip his notice, but if it were going to happen, it makes sense that it would be because of Wade.
He drops into an alley, following instinct alone, and a web flies out before he fully realizes what he’s shooting at. It latches onto a gun and then he’s yanking, sending it flying behind him and onto a roof, out of reach.
“I’m assuming you were about to shoot that,” Peter says, staring at a guy that’s now weaponless. “I don’t steal without good reason, promise!”
The guy, probably offended by the unnoteworthy quip, turns tail and runs. He abandons the three friends that were surrounding him, who are all apparently too shocked by Spider-Man’s appearance to raise their own weapons.
Peter stares at them. They stare back.
“I mean, I can tell you’re in cahoots with that guy,” Peter says, gesturing at the dude now escaping the alley, “which means I’m morally obligated to web you all. Aren’t you gonna run? It’s more fun when you run.”
The guys take Peter’s advice — stupid, he really should’ve just webbed ‘em so he could go home, too — but one of them is holding a suspicious looking package, and Peter very much dislikes suspicious looking packages. Much too often, they turn out to be bombs.
“Th-thank you, Spider-Man!” says the guy that was the bullet’s intended target. “But you have to be careful! They’re planning to blow up a building!”
Ugh. Sigh. Peter really has to be more careful than usual when he’s chasing people armed with explosives. There’s always the chance that they have more than they appear to have, plus the totally real possibility that they might abandon their initial plan for the explosive in favor of throwing it at Spider-Man. Super not fun.
“Thanks,” Peter says. “I’ll stop them!”
He shoots off a web only to swing up to the roofs, deciding to follow them subtly rather than swinging after them in the open.
Part of him selfishly regrets leaving Wade’s apartment. Now he definitely isn’t getting a good night’s sleep. And, yeah, okay: Peter’s second life policy. It’s all about taking care of himself and not letting Spidey business take over his life. Unfortunately, his policies also come in order of importance, which means that power-equals-responsibility and he can sacrifice a little sleep in order to stop a building from getting blown up.
He leaps to the next roof, pulling his phone out of his suit as he does. Texting and Spidey-ing don’t exactly mix, but Peter’s texted while swinging before, and he’s never crashed into a building he didn’t intend to crash into.
can i interest u in patrol pt. 2? 🤡🤞
curious
thot u had an early mornin bb?
or is “patrol” code for sex?
and “pt 2” code for pt 3? 🤔
unfortunately no
i still have an early morning but arsonists never sleep
not arsonists. bomb people. what do u call them
bombists
of course, how could i forget
Peter crouches on the edge of a roof, holding his phone where he can see it and peering down at the street below. The thugs stopped running, probably assuming they managed to lose Spider-Man — hah, classic! — and they’re convening at a street corner, discussing their plans to blow up a convenience store.
Peter can handle it alone. It’ll just take a while, and something will probably get blown up in the process. He doesn’t have any expertise with disarming bombs, which brings him to his usual method: throwing them up into the sky and hoping they explode before they land, or dropping them into a sewer where they’ll still cause a lot of damage but thankfully not hurt anybody.
Wade, though, knows everything there is to know about bombs. Granted, he’s a bit more experienced in the detonating aspect, but he knows how to disarm them, too. If he tags along, they’ll be able to keep anything from exploding and it’ll be that much easier to stop the bad guys.
There’s really no guarantee that it’ll get Peter home any faster, but at least he’ll have company. Plus, Wade’s humor and high-spirits will almost certainly ensure that Peter will hate this interruption to his night a little less.
??
so r u gonna come
duh
i’m already on my way baby boy
Peter grins, sending Wade his location and then hunkering down to wait.