The Webslinger's Weakness

Peter didn't think it was possible for time to move so slowly. Two weeks had felt like three months with nothing to do but sit in his room, go to school and study. Eat, sleep, be bored, repeat. With plenty of time to sit and think he had come to one very solid conclusion:

Not saving the world was boring as fuck.

The sour cherry on top of this shit-pie was the fact that he couldn't even pleasure himself to pass the time. He felt like he was going crazy, and was as horny as he'd ever been.  The situation was so dire that he'd sprung an erection at the sight of a pair of plump oranges that had looked remarkably like a butt. He'd had to hobble from the kitchen with a tent in his shorts before May caught him getting aroused by the fruit bowl.

The final day of his torturous rest period couldn't have come around quick enough. By then his ribs felt a lot better and the bruising had completely faded: He felt like he could carry the weight of the world again. That very day Peter got a letter in the mail, a rare enough occurrence that it reeked of Wade Wilson's handiwork. When Peter tore it open his suspicions were confirmed.

Dear Spiderman,

It has come to my attention that you have just reached the end of your pesky rest period, which is perfect timing as I am in mortal peril as we speak. I'm being savagely debilitated by a severe case of I-wanna-fuck-my-boyfriend syndrome and I fear I might not survive if you don't come to rescue me at 1736 Willow Street, Apartment 22 at 8:30pm on Saturday.

Until then I'm confident I can keep my assailant at bay, but any longer than that and I shall surely succumb to it.

Please hurry!

Yours...arousingly,

A model citizen in peril

XOXO

P.S. Wear something sexy.

P.P.S. Or just wear nothing.

P.P.P.S. I'm good with either.

Peter rolled his eyes with an uncontrollable smile on his lips. Model citizen. Ha! Peter wondered how many criminals Deadpool would have beaten the crap out of in their two weeks of being apart. Probably more than Peter liked to think. Sending a booty call in the most pretentious way ever fathomed was a very Deadpool thing to do. He folded the letter back up and put it in his bedside drawer, then crawled onto his ceiling with happiness and backflipped to the floor just in time for May to open the door and pop her head in.

"Knocking, May! We've talked about this!" Peter scorned, exasperated. One of these days she was going to walk in on something she did not want to see, like she thought she had a while ago in the bathroom.

"Sorry! Sorry! I forgot! Won't happen again. I just wanted to see who the letter was from."

Peter scrambled for an answer. "Erm it was just...spam mail. Asking me to sign up for something. I didn't even read it."

"Booooooring! I thought it was gonna be some long lost relative pledging you their fortune or something."

"Nope."

"Boo!" She came fully into the room then, a mischievous look on her face. "Do you wanna order a Chinese takeout for dinner? You've seemed pretty down lately..."

Peter's face lit up. "Yes! Oh my god that sounds amazing."

May stood there for a few moments, looking at him. "You know you can come to me about anything, right?" She said, a serious look on her face.

"Yeah. Thanks." He shrugged, dropping eye contact. He wasn't the best at reacting to affection.

She walked into the room and took his hands. "And I mean anything, even if you think it's weird or gross. Anything." She brushed her fingers through his hair. "I love you, Peter. You know that?"

"Of course I know. I love you, too."

"Just making sure." She straightened and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll get that order sent out. Usual?"

"Yeah, please."

"Great." And she walked out.

His mind wandered to what would be happening this time tomorrow night. In his fuzzy mind's eye he rang the doorbell and Wade, in his striking red suit, swept him up in his arms, taking him inside— He had to stop himself there. No need to get too excited before the actual thing.

His stomach growled angrily and his mind instantly thought of steaming chow mein, the smell, the taste, the experience. His mouth started salivating and he ran out into the kitchen to help May set the table.

-

He could hear the doorbell ringing inside the apartment, so he stopped pressing and waited.
Peter had taken two subways to get here, but he was excited and energetic all the same.

The situation couldn't have been more perfect. May thought he was at Ned's, who thought he was out doing Spider-Man things so would cover for him. That meant freedom. They had the whole night together, and a large chunk of the morning if they so desired. Peter had a nervous hum in the pit of this stomach, but one that spoke of nervous elation as opposed to actual apprehension. Once again his mind wandered to what would happen behind this door, all the things Wade would do to him—

"Stop."

Two weeks without orgasm and he was like a sex obsessed animal— quite ironic given his virgin status. He reprimanded himself and waited a few more moments.

The door swung open and Deadpool appeared, leaning on the frame lazily, his arm propping him up. "Parker. Come on in."

Smirking goofily at the suited man, Peter walked past him and into the apartment, which was a spacious loft space with exposed brick and tasteful decoration. "You didn't really strike me as someone who valued interior decoration." He slumped his rucksack next to the front door on his way in.

Deadpool, who had followed him in, clutched his heart exaggeratedly. "You wound me, Spiderman. I have exquisite taste and I pride myself upon it! You dare insult me in my own abode?"

"Sorry. No offence meant."

Wade straightened. "No offence caused. Drink?" He walked around the kitchen island and opened the fridge. "I've got vodka, gin, tequila, rum, sambuca, wine, absinthe...the list goes on."

Peter saw right through his playful act of the polite host. They both knew what was going to happen (albeit Peter with less of a solid idea) and there was a kind of humming electricity in the air, the kind of static tension you get when you rub a balloon on your head. Waiting for some contact. It was...intoxicating. "I got your letter, Model Citizen in Peril. Well," he lifted his hands, "here I am."

"Ahhhhhhhh." Wade closed the fridge and slowly began moving towards Peter. "Here's the problem, see? I requested the help of Spider-Man," he stopped within centimetres of the arachnid, close enough for Peter to take in his musky, masculine scent - gunsmoke and cedar. He felt a stirring deep in his gut. "But all I see here is a boy. No suit, no powers, just a kid." He grabbed Peter and pinned him roughly to the nearby wall by the hips, Wade's firm abdomen pressing into his. "But, luckily for you, I know how to turn Spiderboy...into Spiderman."

Peter gulped, eyes wide with fizzing anticipation, not daring to miss a single second of this, drinking in the moment.

And then Wade unlatched from his prey and wandered back into the kitchen, leaving Peter hunting for breath. He had been so braced for lift-off that the sudden deprivation of it was suffocating. "What the fuck, Wade?" He asked, frowning, flicking his hair out of eyes in a feeble attempt to look less pathetically desperate.

The crimson-suited anti-hero poured himself a glass of Bourbon and leaned on the kitchen island, a passive expression on his exposed face. "Yeah...I just kinda can't be bothered. Maybe some other night?"

Peter sucked on his teeth in frustration. He knew that Wade was busting his balls, looking to get a rise out of him like the troll that he was, but the spider was just so horny that the end of his tether had well and truly been reached. So he rose to the bait.

"You sent me the damn letter, Deadpool."

It was clear that Wade was trying to keep the satisfied grin off his face, but he spoke with an uninterested timbre. "Maybe if you'd worn something hot like requested..." He was really pushing his luck, but Peter was willing to play along if it meant getting things going. He wanted the tall man on top of him and he wanted it NOW, so if going through this teasing was what needed doing, then so be it.

Peter pulled a smirk on to his face. "Oh. That's what all this is about? Why didn't you say so?"

Wade cocked his eyebrow, and Peter knew the suspense was probably killing him. Oh how the tables had turned.

"I couldn't decide whether to wear something sexy or to wear nothing..." He unzipped his hoodie a third of the way down, just enough to show the skin of his bare chest where a t-shirt should have been. "So I decided to do a mixture of both. You should see what's under these jeans..."

The look on Wade's face was almost predatory, like he wanted to rip Peter apart with his teeth. "Show me."

"Nuh-uh. You want me? Come and get me." And Peter sprinted off with the grace and agility granted to him by the spider bite, catching a glimpse of Wade leaping over the counter just as he sped out of the kitchen and in the direction of what he hoped was the bedroom.

Wade crashed into him just as he reached the bed, sending him sprawling onto the soft expanse, twisting onto his back to see the tall man looming over him like a storm about to break. Deadpool tore his suit off in seconds, leaving him in just his black underwear, and leapt on top of Peter who was giggling with excitement. "Gotcha." He whispered.

With his mouth wrapped around the zipper, Wade unzipped the rest of the way down the hoodie, unveiling his boyfriend's muscular chest, the skin smooth and intoxicatingly pale.

"You're beautiful." Wade whispered as he kissed up Peter's chest and took one of his perky nipples in his mouth, making the inexperienced lad's breath hitch. He tugged the hoodie off from behind and Peter shrugged out of it desperately, arching upwards so his boyfriend could fling the lump of cloth away. Now Peter was completely shirtless on the bed, the full extent of his perfectly muscular torso on full display, making the stirring in Wade's underwear even more vigorous. "Jesus, you're beautiful."

"Stop saying that!" Peter chuckled, but he blushed all the same at his lover's remarks. The feeling of Deadpool's scarred hands running down his smooth flesh made it tingle like crazy.

"Sorry. Can't help it." He let himself sink down into the nape of Peter's neck and started nibbling and sucking gently, with the brunette lad returning the favour whenever quiet little moans didn't force him to pause.

They stayed like that for a while, their naked torsos pressed together, and then Deadpool pushed himself away and up so he could gaze into Peter's eyes with a sly look on his face. "Now...what did you say was in those jeans?"

The young superhero smirked and sat up on his elbows. "I said you'd have to find out yourself..."

"Is that a challenge?"

"No. It's an invitation."

Wade raised his eyebrow in amusement. For a virgin Peter was remarkably good at sexy talk. The older man shuffled backwards and stood off the bed before tutting. "You still have your shoes and socks on! That's one of the cardinal sins of sex!"

Peter laughed. "Well sorry, you kinda didn't give me a chance to take them off before you flung me to the bed."

Wade started unlacing the lad's shoes. "Oooh that's hot. Say that again."

"What? That you flung me onto the bed. And then stripped me?" Peter teased, adding a silky lilt to his voice.

"Mmmm." Wade yanked off his shoes and let them fall to the ground and then teased off both socks as Peter just lay there getting serviced, hands behind his head. The prostrate lad then popped the button on his jeans at Wade's command and the nearly naked anti-hero yanked the jeans off in one smooth motion that revealed Parker's pale legs, putting them on even footing when it came to how many clothes they had on. Then, as Wade's eyes devoured the hypnotic flesh before him, from the tips of his toes to his toned thighs, he finally discovered his prize: a pair of brightly coloured Spider-Man underwear that hugged Peter's engorged package in a way that left just enough to the imagination. Just enough to make Wade want to rip off the colourful fabric with his teeth.

"Oh. My. God."

"You like them?" Peter asked coyly. "I thought they were narcissistic enough for it to be clear that I'm joking. Plus...they're pretty tight..."

Wade was almost speechless. "Bet they are." He choked out. "Where did you even get them?"

"Oh they're everywhere. Didn't you know I'm a famous superhero?"

Wade sucked his teeth at Peter's cheeky side. "I'd never have guessed."

The inexperienced lad pulled himself up so that he was leaning on the soft headboard, spread one leg forward and folded the other upwards and rested the crook of his elbow on his knee, giving Deadpool a mighty view.

"If you like these, you should see what's under them."

"Jesus, you're like a Russian nesting doll."

Peter smirked. "Well, this is the last layer. Promise." The self-congratulatory look on the boy's face was almost infuriating. It made Wade want to leap over there and knock the smug boy down a few pegs, show him who was boss.

So he did.

Wade crashed into the half-naked boy and started making out with him passionately, forcing him lightly against the headboard as Peter submitted to his touch. It seemed that the crime-fighter was just waiting for things to get hot and heavy before melting. He slipped further down the headboard, his eyes closed with lust.

"Hey, Peter?" Wade whispered, having to force himself away from Peter's kisses. "Are you sure you wanna do this? Like, do IT.  Because if you aren't ready that is more than ok, and I don't want you doing something you aren't comfortable with. If you're not ready--"

"Wade. I appreciate your concern, and you getting consent is really sexy, but I've never been more fucking ready for anything in my life! Do you know--" He realised he was raising his voice and lowered it. "Do you know how fucking horny I am? I haven't gotten off in two fucking weeks! Do you know how long that is for a teenage boy? That's like not drinking water for a month!" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Please Wade. Please." His voice broke at the last second but he didn't even care.

Wade smiled a genuine smile that made Peter's insides flutter. "Just making sure. Because there are a few things we need to do to make it as painless as possible for you."

"I'm ready." Peter confirmed.

"Well...let's get this Spidey underwear off then, shall we?"

-

"Holy motherfucking Jesus Christ our lord and saviour!" Peter moaned as Wade entered him, fully this time, plunging deep. After some light stretching, a bucketful of lube and a rubber, Wade deemed them ready to start, and the party really started.

Peter had been expecting it to be painful at first, but after the first few thrusts the dull ache vanished and was replaced by overwhelming pleasure. They were in the missionary position, with Wade situated between Peter's splayed legs, at the perfect angle to make them both as comfortable as possible.

"Ohhhhhfuuuuck" The brunette squeezed his eyes shut as his insides hummed. This pleasure wasn't as intense as when he played with his spidey holes, but it was different, more ethereal somehow, yet also more focused, like a ball of lead deep in his gut. And it felt gooood. That, mixed with the fact that he hadn't jerked off in what felt like forever combined to make a sensation that was what he imagine a meth high was like.

Wade slowed down in response to the ambiguous noises. "Are those noises good or bad?"

"Good! Holy shit, good! KEEP GOING!" Peter groaned, needing his boyfriend to carry on before he dropped dead from anticipation.

"Thank fuck." Wade sighed as he sped up once more, thrusting rhythmically.

Any movement Wade made was a font of pleasure. Every pulse raditated burning warmth, and when he reached deep enough the spot he hit made Peter feel like he needed to pee...in a good way. It was weird...but amazing. The minutes slipped by as they found their synchronicity, skin pressed against skin, heat pressed against heat, wrapped up in each other's embrace. Peter felt like he had seen a new side to Wade, a caring and compassionate one, so different from his facade of insults and cockiness, that showed just how much he cared about Peter. Wade had done everything in his power to make sure Peter felt safe, comfortable and secure and it meant the world to the younger man.

"Does this feel good?" Wade said a few minutes later. "Are you ok?"

"Ihhh'm amazing, Wade. This is great." Peter kissed him just to reiterate how comfortable he was.

Peter could definitely feel the difference between this feeling and masturbating. Jerking off felt like a running up a steep ramp: fast, intense, with an abrupt ending. This, however, felt like climbing a mountain: slow, steady, with an amazing view at the top, Peter hoped.

"Jesus Christ, Spidey, you feel so fucking good." Wade moaned a few minutes later, a look of pure concentration on his face. "I'm trying really hard not to bust early but you're making it really damn difficult."

Peter beamed between soft purrs as he slipped closer towards an unknown but exciting end. "Sorry."

"Ugh god don't look at me like that!" Wade shut his eyes tight. "I'm seriously on the fucking edge right now."

"I'll take that as a complime-eh-oh-ohh—" Peter choked mid-sentence as a powerful feeling started blooming inside of him, so strange and pleasurable that it took his breath away. His body froze and his muscles seized up, mouth agape, back arched as his legs clenched and tightened, the spot deep inside him that Wade had been prodding starting to glow red hot. He felt like a reactor in meltdown, like the heart of a furnace. Waves of pleasure bloomed from that spot and submerged every inch of his body in bliss. Other orgasms all felt good in the muscles and the dick, but every single cell of his body felt like it was vibrating this time, like the blissful anticipation before a shiver or a stretch but multiplied by a thousand and spread across his body.

Peter was slightly taken aback at first. The suddenness and inevitability of the climax had taken him by surprise. Trying to stop this explosion of bliss would have been like trying to stop an avalanche.

"Hohohhhhhfuck." Time had slowed down in this hedonistic blast, but about five seconds after it had begun Peter's dick started to erupt energetic spurts of his load, more than he had ever produced before, and it just kept on coming. Places inside him he hadn't even realised existed were spasming with pleasure, making it feel as if he was spewing everything inside him.

"Holy FUCK!" Wade came in his rubber at Peter's sudden tensing, eyelids fluttering with the catharsis of it. The webslinger hardly noticed, however, as he was too caught up in his own riotous explosion. Peter was thrown into a screaming, writhing, world-changing, mind-shattering orgasm, lifetimes longer than any orgasm he had ever experienced. When it was over and he had finally stopped spurting jets of white hot liquid up his chest Peter deflated slowly backwards, his tensed muscles relaxing him backwards onto the bed in a dazed stupor, his eyes open droopily as if he had been drugged.

He groaned quietly as his body slowly returned back to normal. His muscles ached in the best way, and he felt as if an itch he hadn't even known he'd had had been well and truly scratched. Wade slipped his deflating dick out with ease and rolled onto his back so they were both lying facing the ceiling.

"How was that?"

Peter turned to look at his boyfriend, a look of pure stupefaction on his face. "Wade. I can't even talk about what just happened. I—" He dragged his hand through his hair and rested it there. "That was—. I can't put into words what that felt like. Oh my god."

Wade grinned like an idiot at the adorable face Peter had on. He looked like a confused puppy, and in many ways he felt like one.

"That good, huh?" Wade remarked.

Peter could only nod.

"Told you I'd give you the best sex of your life." The mercenary shone with self-satisfaction, and genuine happiness that he had made his lover feel such a way.

After a while of lying still and breathing together, Wade sat up on one arm to get a better look at his handiwork. "So," he said, running a finger down Peter's sticky chest. "Was it worth two weeks of not touching yourself?"

Peter's eyes widened. "Wade, feeling that again would be worth years of not touching myself."

Deadpool smirked and leaned over. "Is that a promise."

Peter raised an eyebrow and turned away, suddenly going back on what he had said. Almost nothing would be worth giving up jerking off.

"No. That is not a promise."

Wade shook his head with a gleeful disdain. "You are such a horny boy, Peter Parker." And even despite the intimate act they had just thoroughly shared, Peter blushed at his words, knowing it was true, but feeling abashed that it was so glaringly obvious. Wade could read him like a book sometimes.

Wade sat up and got off the bed, lumbering naked to the bathroom as Peter sat up to watch him go, paying particularly close attention to his plump buttocks and muscular back. He turned at the door, caught Peter staring, and leaned on the the wooden frame. "Come on then, Spider-Man. Let's get you washed up."

A smile grew on his face, and Peter followed obediently.