Double Dipping

The bed was soft. The sheets, thin and layered. He did not recognize this room. Hesitant. The home of a friend, but which one he could not be sure. None came to mind. 

The four walls of this plain room isolated him from the outside world, everything beyond them felt volatile and uncertain, but it was calm, even safe here. Quiet even, aside from the sound of water and spitting, Wade realized he was sitting upright on the bed, unsure if he was going to sleep or waking up. He was nervous, reviewing his exposed arms and legs under loose, casual clothing. That was when he noticed Peter come from the bathroom. Wade’s eyes swept over revealed thighs and knees, down to sculpted calves approaching him. Unable to ignore the tiny underwear under an old shirt, falling apart at the seams with holes and all, before locking with brown eyes, meeting him and not expressing anything in particular other than witnessing Wade.

Oh,

This was a routine, but the neurotic thoughts that ran laps in his mind stunned Wade. As Peter sat on the bed across from him, all Wade could do was look at him while Peter looked back. The stare piercing into Wade was unraveling him no matter how much Wade tried to tie himself together again. The attempt to contain the barrier he made between them was loosening quicker than he could put them back together. A force from behind propelled him to close their distance. His skin touched Peter’s, and Peter maneuvered his legs to unfurl and wrap around him. Excitement and fear flared as Wade felt his groin meet Peter’s. Heat under the thin layer of clothing, how he could feel length stiffening towards him. Wade could not help but move against it, throwing his head backward, releasing himself from idle apprehension. 

A swift motion of Peter’s hand added a rush of pleasure. He had been waiting for this, rolling his hips more vigorously as Peter joined, expressing placid satisfaction under flushed cheeks. Wade could sense the moans in his chest, escaping in suppressed sighs. The thrill saturated, prompting Wade to look down at their contact, seeing that Peter had unsheathed, along with Wade. Overcome by longing friction, Peter squeezed them both just enough to moisten and slide against each other. Wade contorted his face in tightening pleasure as pulses rippled through him with each stroke. Clear fluid leaked and stuck from Wade’s tip to Peter’s. No drop was wasted to slicken the hand that facilitated the tension from their tandem grinding.

It was amazing to watch him, the momentum of Peter’s hips, the way his arms and chest flexed as he leaned back, steadying himself to bestow waves of ecstasy, fiercely blushing and panting through flushed lips. He was so beautiful, turning Wade on and becoming overpowered with the innate need to release. His balls tensed with every thrust of their movements, feeling the pressure build further and further until his eyes opened. Nothing in clear view as they crossed, and the force in the constricted space of his jeans fired shot after shot of dampening heat. Wade moaned silently as the painful twitching released thick fluid.

Still shaking slightly and looking around the small room, he rolled his eyes in deja vu. He could not recognize it. An unkept room with miscellaneous articles of clothing, two desks packed with fabrics and electronic materials, and a small multi-compartment filled with components of some kind. Counter space with plastic containers, sticky notes, and pictures on the mini-fridge. Wade took several hard breaths before recalling where he was, and unfortunately, last night…or earlier this morning. Wade lay in the creaking sham of this bed, pressing his hands to his eyes and applying pressure. His palms were wet from the tears emitted only a few moments prior. However, the most apparent was the feeling of paper on his face. He peeled it off his forehead to squint at pleasant cursive. 

Doors locked

Use window

 Wade looked over the sticky note, hovering it over his face, pondering, before shoving it into his hoodie pocket. Wade wiped his face, coughing to clear his throat, and sat up from the mattress, simultaneously disappointed and relieved the person he wanted to disappear from was not here.

Somehow, it made him feel that much more miserable. Getting up from the bed, his knees trembled slightly. Yawning and scratching the back of his neck, Wade awkwardly walked around the small space. Inspecting the tiny fridge, he opened it to find some ketchup, salsa packets, and a carton of milk. After gulping the milk, Wade pressed his lips together from the sour taste. He looked for the sink to pour it in, but there was none, so he spat the chunks back into the carton and put it back in the mini-fridge. 

He should have left already, but his curiosity was getting the best of him. The inside of Peter’s apartment. A place that felt like it had been forbidden until now. Having all the time to investigate the plain, peeling walls with exposed piping, hovering his hand over the closed laptop surrounded by wires and screws. It was apparent Peter was building things, parts of little gizmos in process or forgotten, unsure if it was for work or for.... Wade felt compelled to open the device and snoop, but he realized how much of a nuisance he had been already. Better not to get into any more trouble, for now. 

Wade’s eyes glanced, then stuck over the many web cartridges, picking one up from several other rounds that were littered next to it. Looking at the materials and batches of tightly packed liquid, Wade deduced that Peter produced them for their mutual friend. Alongside the fabrics that had been hurriedly put away, Wade could gather they were leftovers for a suit. Wade’s forehead ached, rubbing his temple for relief. He could not help but think about how Spider-Man also knew this place. That he had been here, what he was using it for. Knowing their reliance on each other, Wade agonized over the two of them in his mind. Rolling around scenarios of what must have occurred in this shitty room, long before he knew he would have cared. After he did. And last night. Wade’s thoughts went to the most vivid explanations, and with it, his body filled with defeat. The relationship he could handle, but the lying… 

He was so close to both of them here, but all the same, never more father apart. 

Wade tried to shove the despair from his mind, wishing he had never come here. It would have been better if he had never known about any of this. 

Disengaging and desperate to clean himself, Wade opened the door to the bathroom only to find it was a closet. A couple of shirts and slacks were hanging on thin metal wires. He had had enough of this place. Moving to the window and opening it, stepping a foot onto the fire escape, he took one last look at the tiny space before removing himself entirely and shutting the window behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ow!”

“Stay still!”

“I’m trying..”

Constricted and irritated movements of limbs struggled at unnatural angles. A foot hit directly in the center of Deadpool’s face before positioning itself behind his head. Joints and muscles became stiff the longer they were trapped in the tight wooden crate. It was a good plan, Deadpool had thought, since their mutual pal deficient in sight had proposed it. Being stuck in a confined space with Spider-Man, all of the unintentional touching and smells he could have imagined. But after the first hour, it was not just the Indian food he ate yesterday that he was regretting. A churn in Deadpool’s stomach threatened his bowels as much as Spider-Man threw complaints and insults as quietly as he could manage. 

“Aw-” A gagging sound. “For God’s sake.” Spider-Man choked.

“There was a deal on paneer pakora. Shoot me.” Deadpool insisted as if it was a justification. 

“Uhhhhg!” Another irritating whine from Spider-Man came before readjusting an elbow that forced Deadpool to hunch his shoulders and lean back onto the bottom of the box to avoid the crushing sensation of Spider-Man’s restlessness. “No-nonono-” 

A quick movement of the crate silenced their bickering as they were jostled and rearranged. The small holes that allowed for fresh oxygen were also the only indicator of light, and when their crate stopped moving, the light disappeared. Deadpool assumed by the nature of the handling that they were on their way to be transported. The inside of the crate became pitch black, but Deadpool could now fully feel the precarious nature of its position. Spider-Man’s knee and ankle were propped around Deadpool’s head while the legs were ready to spring the moment the box opened, the taught buttocks pressing against Deadpool’s groin. Deadpool’s legs in an awkward, tight contortion above him made all the blood leave his feet and flow elsewhere. 

“This would be way more cute if you weren’t about to pop my berries,” Deadpool commented anxiously, afraid of the subsequent adjustment Spider-Man could make.

“Nothing about this is cute.” The irritation in Spider-Man’s voice was spiking. 

It was apparent that Spider-Man was becoming even more irritated. This entire plan was more awkward now they were here. Never having addressed what happened at Oscorp, Deadpool continued to avoid the elephant in the crate with some distracting banter. 

The space outside the box had been quiet for some time, and Spider-Man’s breathing was coming faster and heavier. 

“I know I’m irresistible, Spidey, but you should keep it down, and we can work this out on some rooftop after the mission.” Deadpool teased.

More racing breaths filled the crate. Different from before. Not in irritation, it was something else. Pained and labored. It took a moment before Spider-Man could respond.

“I don’t…like small spaces,” Spider-Man said in a small voice. “Feels like, hah, like…I’m dying.” The sound from him was shallow and panicky. “I can’t do this, not like this! Have to get out, have to get out!”

“W-what’s wrong?” It was difficult, not just hearing those words so weakly from his friend. 

“I-I can’t breathe!” 

Even with all of the cruelty, his love. 

“Can’t breathe! I can’t- I can’t! Not like this.” 

Despite all his weaknesses, Spider-Man lashed out at Deadpool. He was still his hero. 

Spider-Man’s voice was becoming further away, pained, going to some painful place he could not escape. Deadpool did not need to know what it was about to recognize a panic attack. Even without seeing him, Deadpool shifted his arms to wrap around Spider-Man, and immediately, a resistance from the body curled over him. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” Deadpool whispered, centering himself to fold around Spider-Man even further. “You’re not gonna die. You’re here with me, your pal, okay? Hey, tell me what you feel right now?”

A few whimpers before, “Arms, two arms, all around me.”

“Good. What else?”

“Knees. Hurt.”

“‘Kay, keep going.”

“Heartbeat. Yours. It’s fast.”

“That’s normal. Yours is, too, and that’s normal.” A light stoking of his thumb. “Can you breathe with me? Just like this,” Deadpool made an exaggerated inhale, “Ahhhhh, and focus on that.” 

Spider-Man’s staggered breath slowly matched Deadpool’s. After a few rounds of the exercise, he could feel the body around him shake a little less. It was quiet all around them, except for the steadying of controlled unison of their breathing.

Breaking the moment's tension, “What’re you thinking about?” Deadpool asked.

“Dark. How dark it is. Cramped. Nothing… Just nothing.”

“I’ll tell you a little something about dying. It’s not like that. Way more demons and hellfire. Sure, some yapping from my coocoo-banana-for-CoCo Puffs bitch of an ex-wife. Kind of annoying, actually, but damn if I wouldn’t hit it one more time.” 

A small semblance of a chuckle, partially forced.

“So you can’t be dying. This is temporary. Everything in your body and in your head, feel them now cause they will end soon, I promise. When we get out of here, we will give big-boned boy some hell, yeah? Imagine his face when we pop out of this box. It’ll make all this waiting worth it. 

“Heh, yeah. I’m also going to hit Daredevil for this shit of a plan.”

“Oooo feisty. He won’t even see it coming.”

“Classy, Deadpool,” Spider-Man said with a slight shake of his head against Deadpool’s neck.

“Only the best for my bug-boy.” Time seemed to pass slowly yet fast, all at the same time. Deadpool was content with the momentary quiet and rise of their chests pressed together. 

“Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you always so… like this? With me?”

In truth, Deadpool did not know what to respond with other than, “I…” Deadpool took a brief second to collect some words. “I, errm, we don’t put on these getups because we got our shit together. When I see you, you make it look so easy, even though I know it’s not. Just being around you, in any way, makes me feel like I can do it too, ya know?”

“Wade, I- I didn’t mean to. I’m so-.”

“Don’t, really. I know I’m difficult, but if I can relieve some of your burden, whatever it is, maybe I can give back to you what you have given to me.”

Deadpool felt fingers feeling along his face and holding his cheeks, then a warmth upon his mask from Spider-Man’s. The longer Deadpool stayed frozen in his position, the more he gave credence to the gesture being put upon him. Even in the cramped crate, Deadpool’s body began to relax in the grasp of the man he was just comforting, simultaneously reciprocating every gesture he had ever given that was never returned. A confession that instantly made him Spider-Man’s possession. 

Everything he could have ever wanted, all tied up in a simple set of movements. At the same time, stunning Deadpool into a shameless offense he slinked into, giving sustenance to the beast inside that he would not allow to go any further than to grip and press against, Overpowering any substitute he struggled to recall at the moment.

The sliding clanking of metal alerted them both, separating the dampening of their masks to prepare for the incoming jostle of transportation. The uncertainty of the contact was reserved for another time that would not come soon enough for Deadpool.

~~~~~~~~~~

Wade could tell Peter was still disgruntled about the other night. He was surprised Peter still agreed to come to a meeting at the amusement park. He wished Peter would just get over it. Shouldn’t he be the one who should be more justifiably upset? 

He thought about how they had never talked about their relationship, what they wanted to do, of course, but ultimately, nothing about seeing other people. Wade thought about how he had been restricting himself from Peter, dragging him along with the promise of something he was not sure he could deliver. All Wade knew was that he felt good around Peter, and Peter must feel the same way if he was here with him. As much as Wade wanted to be a part of Spider-Man, torn between the meaning of their last meeting.

Then here was Peter, confusing Wade even more, not knowing what his intentions were. Everything Wade was feeling was contradicting the other. He just wanted things to return to how they used to be, too scared to lose the possibility of what could be with his little replacement. Thinking about it like that made him feel bad. He knew Peter was more than that to him now, but if he said it to himself, it was like leaving the fantasy of one day having Spider-Man definite, and right now, he could not fathom it, even if it meant pushing aside being swept up into an ordinary life with Peter. 

Wade did not know why Peter was adamant about coming here so badly. The rides were boring and built for kids and young couples, not situationships that precariously balancing on thin ice. Wade tried to make jokes, delivering them at consistent intervals and checking in with Peter to see if he could crack a smile. It worked occasionally, but the true break was when they played games that were obviously rigged, but Peter got them every time, tying up their scores more times than once. The competition brought back the light of determination in Peter’s eyes and the little smirk that crossed his lips while showing Wade up. It meant everything to see that wall come down and let Wade in again, even if just a tiny bit superficial. 

However, when Peter laughed, so did Wade. Somehow, with absent joy across lame games and silly rides, until they traded in their tickets for prizes. Wade looked over the large stuffed animals, catching a giant Spider-Man plush that, if it had been only a few days ago, would have been the obvious choice, instead settling for a cute giant panda. Peter seemed to have the same idea. They walked around the amusement park, picking at a funnel cake and unflavored cheesy nachos. 

Leaning over the rail, Wade wiped his hands on his hoodie, leaving streak marks of powdered sugar and bland cheese goo. He and Peter looked at the people moving back and forth in the underpath. Parents with children, holding hands with one and holding toy prizes with another. Couples were strolling, walking closely. Wade watched smiles and intertwined fingers. Adolescents running fast with bright eyes. He wondered if they’d feel so carefree in a few years when the dyed hair and hormonal attitudes would skew their view of the park, which was actually relatively small and cheap. For him, physically, the park did not take up a lot of space, but the potential of what could be had within it knew no bounds. Only appreciating the magic a place like this could bring when it was too late.

Wade stole glances at Peter. It was beginning to get windy, and his hair was whipping in the gusts. Even with a jacket, he could see Peter shake and his teeth chatter. Wade did not think twice about moving to Peter’s other side to block the air from freezing him. The chill was snapping at the skin that pierced him through the openings in the layer of clothing. The look Peter gave him, the softening of his eyes, the downturn of his brows, the line near his mouth when he made a little smirk. Warmth was a worthy sacrifice. Wade scooted closer to him so their arms could touch and create heat with their bodies. Not enough to be truly warm or for anyone else to notice them. The energy between them was calm, and he did not feel he needed to say anything to fill time or space. It was comfortable, and he did not want to ruin it, but he could not help himself.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” Wade asked. Thinking about how quickly Ellie was growing up and wishing he had not asked the question.

“Hmm,” Peter pondered, looking over the railing. Wade watched his eyes look over the bundled youngsters below them. “Sometimes.” Peter sighed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Kids…are fun.” He said with a widening smile. It faded as quickly as he had shown it. “But I don’t think I’d be very good at it. Maybe, but…I don’t know. I never knew my parents, but I had the best aunt and uncle anyone could ever ask for. That high standard is a lot of pressure! Maybe I would be a better uncle than a dad.”

“You’re an orphan?” Wade asked, peculiarly intrigued.

“Erm, yes?”

“What a bummer, Petey. But don’t worry. The sun’ll come out, tomorrow~”

Peter looked at Wade questionably before palming a hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, my God.”

“Bet you’re bottom dollar that tomorrow~”

“Stop.”

“There’ll be sun!~”

“I can’t believe- Are you done?” Peter asked, a crack of smile detected behind his fingers.

With a controlled sigh to not sing any further, “I think you could be the best whatever you want to be,” Wade said. It was genuine. “You’re smart as balls, Petey. You can do whatever you want. “Take that, erm, Oscorp job or somethin’. Work for Stark, Hell, make your own freakin’ tower if you want.” Wade meant it. Peter was the kind of guy who had the potential and know-how, the legitimate way, that other people wished they had. Abilities combined with ambition, if he allowed himself. 

“Actually, I did that once, sorta.” Peter started.

“Mm?” Wade was interested to hear more.

“Worked for Stark Industries a while back. Years ago.”

The statement confused Wade. “Why are you living in that rat den, then? Does Stark cheap out on labor now, too?”

Peter chuckled, “No, not like that.” Wade was tired of seeing that smile fade faster than he could put it to memory. He let the moment hang before Peter began to speak again. “The first time I met…my mentor, I was sixteen. At one of Stark's expos downtown. I went with my friends every year and dragged them, really. It was like Disneyland for me back in those days. Innovations that would change the world one day. Watching history happen in real-time. It was all because of him. And after he became, let’s say, popular, he could do no wrong. He was everything I wanted to be. Rich, handsome, successful-”

“Handsome, huh?”

A light-hearted glare with pursed lips. “He was my idol. It was during one of those expos that I won a scholarship. Internship, whatever. It was like all my dreams had come true, greater than that even. Out of everyone, he picked me.” Peter took a moment to rub his hands together. He stared at them, recollecting his thoughts. 

“I felt real special, back then. He made me feel special. Like I was somebody. We spent a lot of time together during those days. Making things, breaking everything else.” A slight pause. “Even made a few new gadgets and tech for the Avengers and Spider-Man. It was new and exhilarating every time. We would think of the impossible and make it happen with our minds and our hands. It was for the good of the world, is what I thought, and it was, but looking back, I know now that it was more than that. Part of me feels guilty for wanting more, and he never made me forget all the things he had done for me.”

“I was just about to start university, and he was having some party in one of his houses. He had too much to drink, I had too much to drink. I had crushed on him for the longest time. I was scared and had never done anything like that before… Then, just like that, I had all I had ever wished for, in a way, and just as quickly, my life was even more chaotic than it was before. The flights, the houses, and the parties, one world-ending disaster after another. Not to mention trying to keep my grades up. I never saw my friends, my aunt, my girl…”

Peter trailed off in thought and Wade let him sit in them, unsure why Peter was telling him all this.

“She…ehm,” Peter’s mouth trebmled slightly, though, as he stumbled over his words his voice did nit waver. “She was…everything. Perfect, for me.” Looking at his hands, Peter reviewed his palms. “Then she was gone. Losing her made me want to keep, my mentor, that much closer.”

“The more I wanted to quit, the more he kept sucking me in, one scheme into another.  And yet, I tried to do it all, for him, but I could never be anything significant enough or be proficient enough in my own right. Somehow, I was always a drag for him. I could never measure up to his expectations. I tried to do good by my city while helping him change the world and always be available for him whenever he wanted. We fought constantly. The older I got, the worse it became.” A sigh, “Lots of fights, bad ones. Especially during that time. The torment of his words was never-ending and all I cared about was that he was hurling them at me and not someone else. I didn’t know if I coiuld survive losing another person I- That I…. I did a lot of stuff I regret. I’m sure he did, too. It was off and on for years. He’d get jealous, then go off and rub some new thing in my face. But I’d always came back, even though I knew it wasn’t what a relationship was supposed to be like. I couldn’t help it. 

Peter bit the side of his mouth in pause. “He was…my first, and the worst. But when we were good, we were so good. Woopin’ ass and taking names, it felt like we were making a real differnece, just like we said we would. It is what I imagine being high is like. A waking dream, I can’t even explain it. But when it was bad, I wasn’t the only one who got hurt. Having that kind of responsibility made me realize how much power I held and how much of my ideals I had to compromise for someone else.”

“Whatever he wanted, he got. I always knew that, but it took me far too long to get it. It would get me thinking, was I actually special? Or was I just special because I was another project for him to tinker with? Or so he could keep me all for himself, some kind of secret trophy. I know now I was just another toy he kept on a shelf until he felt like playing with me. Then toss me aside like yesterday’s trash when I wasn’t fun anymore. It was degrading, and I was just a kid.”

“The whole thing was embarrassing. I embarrassed myself a lot, to everyone. I failed the woman I loved.” Peter glanced softly at Wade before looking down at his hands. “She died. In my arms. Right here. I couldn’t save her, and it was my fault.” Peter’s voice shook as he clenched his fists. 

“It wasn’t his fault, I know. But I hated him. I hated him for a long time after it ended for the last time. Now that I’m older. I know what he did to me, what he took- stole from me. But I couldn’t hang on to all of that. I had to forgive him. To forgive myself and move on. It took a while, but I did.” 

Peter glanced at Wade briefly in his pause. “I…never told you that.” He said, smiling awkwardly, pushing down the true expression he did not want to reveal. “I never told anybody about what really happened. How do you protect someone who doesn’t learn from their own mistakes? I’m messed up and keep making the same mistakes over and over again. A part of me must be defective if I keep letting everyone I love die in my arms. It’s been going on for so long, and I don’t want to tangle you up with the failure of my life.”

“But here you are, standing in front of me. Taking a chance on someone like me. I, ehm, didn’t know how much I- anyway, I guess- so, I don’t think I’d be able to handle bringing an innocent life into this world. I’d probably fuck that up too, at best.” Peter scratched the back of his head with a  smile. “Wow, look at me go on. I didn’t mean to load that all onto you.”

Wade viewed Peter from the side of his eyes. A range of emotions coursed through him. He attempted to let his sympathy roll over the need to protect the young Peter that had long been demoralized boil under his skin. Listening to Peter’s history, he felt guilty about bringing up the subject, not knowing it was reaching for something that had hurt Peter in the past and so terribly. 

“Ya know, I tend to attract beautiful people with tragic origin stories. I was just windering what yours would be.” Wade sulked in the frivolity of his statement. “I’m sorry,” Was all he could say.

“Don’t be. Really. I wanted to tell you before- but I was, I don’t know. I get to tell you now.” Peter grabbed Wade’s hand. His fingers were cold with a slight tremble. “I mean, I wanted to tell you 'cause I’ve moved on. I am moving on. It doesn’t hurt me the way it used to. I learned from it, and I know now what I really want-” Peter lifted to pull Wade’s face mask down, brushing the tip of his chilled nose against Wade’s cheek. A soft brush of his lips, frosty against the heat trapped by Wade’s mask. Even though it was brief, his touch lingered upon Wade. “Something like this. Like you, who always comes back to me, whether I like it or not. And I’m sorry, I’m fucking it up, but I don’t want you to be the chance I’m not taking because of what happened in the past.”

Wade took Peter in his arm and held him close to his side, holding his hand with the other. He wanted to protect Peter, wishing he could have done something to help take away the pain of his past. Wade was all too familiar with the wish. His brain struggled to process how much Peter had become attached to him.

“I know better than anyone you can’t change the past. The person who you used to be and the one you are now, both are deserving of what you want for yourself. I get why someone like me is appealing to you,” Wade redirected, finally getting a peek at Peter’s thoughts about him unhindered. “That makes you human, right?” Wade thought about how he also saw Peter as a surrogate, one he began to adore against his instincts or because of them. It ws strange to consider that Peter had been doing the same to him in a way did not expect.” Whatever time we got, I want to make new, better memories with you.” For the both of them, sincerely this time.

“I’d like that.” Peter agreed, gripping Wade’s shoulder tightly, holding on as if letting go he would never return. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Don’t worry ’bout me, babe. I heal quick.” Wade defended proudly.

Wade tipped Peter’s chin to meet his cheek. He did not care who was watching. A gesture, one soft and loving, stroking the side of his jaw and looking deeply into those eyes, watching them go back and forth as they received silent compassion. Pulling Peter into into an all encompassing embrace, they sinked into the hold of each other enough to let Peter and anyone who dare look their way that this was completely his man. It was a confirmation for Wade that everything that had been standing in their way up until now was irrelevant. The chance for them to start over again, even though in the back of Wade’s mind, the kiss he received from Spider-Man was a threatening fascination he actively repressed as the young man in his arms pulled back just enough to look at him with desperately longing eyes.