Lover Man
Watching students exit the classroom, Wade watched as the hallway filled with bodies. He stood against the wall until the door was about to close, placing his fingers between the space and slipping carefully through the doorway to a sight that heated him with a lover’s affliction.
On the other side of the room, Peter tapped his phone with one hand while the other rested on his laptop halfway in a backpack. Wade quickly placed the small bouquet in front of himself as he felt a vibration in his pocket. Just then, Peter met the view of him, eyes widened in surprise, and a nervous creak across his lips.
“What is this?” Peter said, humored.
“Been a while, so I thought I’d come see you.” Wade returned, walking up to Peter and kissing his cheek softly. A semblance of peace settled over him at the mere presence of Peter. When the flowers were taken from Wade’s hand, Peter gave them a small inhale before looking back up at him with a narrowed allure.
“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you flowers?” Peter insisted gullibly.
Wade gave a slight chuckle. “So old fashioned.”
“Nothing about our relationship is ‘old fashioned’.” Peter retorted.
“Relationship, hm?” Wade let the word roll around his mind. Touching the top of Peter’s hand, stroking the soft skin between rough knuckles. “And what kind of relationship do we have?”
“Mmm, I don’t know,” Peter coyly replied, running a hand up Wade’s arm, allowing Wade to push him against the desk. “Maybe we can figure that out tomorrow night?”
Leaning over Peter, forcing the body in his arms to sit upon the small desk, opening slim legs to fit himself between them.
“Why wait ‘til tomorrow?” Wade asked. Peter tilted his head up in Wade’s hand, grabbing ever slightly at thick strands of hair as he watched a fierce blush creep across Peter’s nose and cheeks, peering at Wade with eyes at half-mast, dilated, and giving a heavy sigh. “Why don’t we find out right now?”
Before Peter could reply, Wade licked at his lips, sucking at them needingly. Placing a hand at the belt, trapping Peter’s growing heat, unbuckling it with a clang of metal and zip as he pressed against Peter, who hung onto Wade’s neck submissively. A light sound of paper rippling in the air as a small stack of documents fell to the floor. However, all Wade could hear were muffled haughty breaths from mutual fonding. Wade bit at Peter’s lip, pulling to him as he unbuttoned the slacks with a swift motion of his finger.
A creak at the door alerted Peter’s body to stiffen alert and push Wade away with a force that made him stumble back to the whiteboard.
“Professor Parker?” A young voice called into the room.
As Wade came to his senses, Peter quickly recovered his composure and modestly realigning his shirt into his slacks before turning to meet the student, leaving Wade dumbfounded and impressed.
“Ah, Brooke, yes! Hi, hello!” Peter not so smoothly greeted, though just enough to pretend.
The young woman with terrible timing timidly scanned Peter, her gaze lingering over Wade for an extended moment, who thankfully grabbed and placed a conveniently large textbook over the painful outline in his sweatpants. “Am I… I hope I am not interrupting.”
“Sure are,” Wade said, staring her down.
“No, no, what can I do for you?” Peter quickly attempted to redirect.
“Well, it's, ehhm,” The student began, cautiously distracted by Wade.
“Oh, eh, Brooke,” Peter turned to Wade. “One of my assistants and this- this is Wade. He’s… well, he’s my- former student!”
“Right, yeah. That’s it, Teach.” Wade joined, giving a soft tap of his fist to Peter’s shoulder, watching as a twitch at the side of Peter’s mouth played off the moment.
“Oh?” Brooke straightened her spine and looked at Wade. Her interest piqued.
“Yeah, I dropped out though, but I still come ‘round for office hours.” Wade joked with a wink, finding joy in the disappointment of Brooke’s face.
“Oh,” She awkwardly added, turning to Peter. “I wanted to ask you about the proposal. Do you have time? I am very confused about how to go about it.” She confessed.
“Sure, sure. Let’s meet in the lab on Monday and get it sorted.” Peter assured. Wade admired how easily the young girl received Peter’s dismissal. She seemed to beam with just the reciprocation of his words. Her admiration made Wade smile, albeit slightly jealous.
As soon as she left the classroom, Peter picked up the debris of paper and materials from the floor. “What’s wrong with you?” He said, agitated.
“I didn’t see you complaining.” Wade jested, watching Peter clean up with a mischievous smile. “It’s just been so busy lately,” He commented, handing the book to Peter.
“Yeah, sorry. Things keep getting in the way.” Peter agreed, slightly turning as he zipped up crumpled papers and a laptop in his backpack. “But,” Peter approached Wade, resting a hand on his chest and leaning close. “I am very much looking forward to tomorrow. Alone. With you.”
“Mm, tomorrow,” Wade repeated, taking the hand in his and kissing along pale fingers.
~~~~~~~~~~
The needle hit vinyl, and the careless whisper of a saxophone played through small speakers. Music. Check.
Flames crackled over wick. Candles. Check.
A wide-eyed chicken pecked the wooden floor. Baw-kaw!
Dinner. Check.
Wade could not remember the last time he had attempted to set up a romantic atmosphere. With maximum effort and clear intention, he thumbed over his phone, reviewing the recipe, determined. This night would be from the heart. He was ready to take his relationship with Peter to the next level. Everything would have to be perfect. Wade wanted Peter to feel as special as he was to him. Peter had given Wade so much to adore about him, not just how Wade saw him physically, but who he was, without alteration, as a person. Worthy of love and attention. It was now Wade’s turn to show his admiration.
A long-awaited night of passion between two lovers. Mood. Check.
Watching the cooks in the video, they made it look so easy. The first step, marinate. Wade glanced at the chicken, staring aimlessly at the apartment with chicken-esque bobs of its neck. Jeffrey was going to be delicious. A worthy sacrifice. He quickly searched for a video to defeather. If this was not from scratch, then what was the point? How else would Peter determine how domestic he could be? Images of himself in a patterned dress and kitten heels, holding a fresh roast for his darling Peter, returning from a long day of work. Wade chopped the beast as he prepared an iced glass of cola in a leather reading chair. The iconic “Ah” of bubbly syrup filled Wade with purpose as they both turned to the reader as satisfied consumers.
Abruptly remembering his goal, Wade returned to the video that was not difficult to watch, but dammit, the little fluffy thing was pretty cute but even cuter in his lover's belly. Preparing his stance, Wade stalked closer to his future meal, slowly, step by step.
“C’mere, chiky-chiky,” Fingers wriggling in anticipation of a struggle.
Just before Wade lunged, his phone sent off an alert.
“Baw-kaw!”
The chicken sprinted in the opposite direction as Wade landed on his arms and chest, the weight of the rest of his body following roughly to the floor. Grumbling as he outstretched an arm to catch the would-be delicious animal ineffectively, a series of alerts pinged the phone in his pocket. Annoyed, Wade pulled out the device and screened a series of texts from Spider-Man. The addresses of street corners. Another ping, a new one. It was his way of asking for backup, for Wade’s help.
Wade eyed the chicken. His mood became somber as the seconds of looking at the messages trailed on. If Spider-Man was asking for help, there was no way he could justify not stepping up, even if it meant disappointing Peter.
Fuck.
It was muscle memory pulling on his suit and gear. Storming out of his apartment, his heart sank, and his stomach ached as he texted Peter to reschedule their special date. He felt like an asshole.
Guilt. Check.
~~~~~~~~~~
Returning to the apartment Wade left the window open partly because he did not care, partly to let in his partner to clean himself up.
“Oh, wow,” Spider-Man said, looking around Wade’s apartment. “It looks like you really went all out.”
“I did ,” Deadpool grumbled, halfway putting away the candles burnt out to the base. “But, it’s okay,” Deadpool continued, trying to force a small smile from himself unnecessarily. The last thing he wanted to explain was tonight's intentions. “With responsibility and all that, right?”
Spider-Man stared at Deadpool for a moment. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but Deadpool was unconcerned, closing the lid on the record player, having been skipping for who knows how long. He was disappointed, knowing he had missed a memorable night of devoted passion, but his loyalty to Spider-Man was something he could not fathom abandoning. Deadpool checked his phone. Still no reply from Peter. Deadpool assumed he was angry and just as disappointed. This had been Wade’s turn to give Peter something memorable, his heart and body, and he blew it.
Black smoke bellowed out of the stove when Deadpool opened it.
Hot-hot-hot!
After waving the smoke away, his hand was seared and pained from the heat of the tray that he threw onto the counter. The smoke from the charred and burnt vegetables looked like how he felt. He frowned at it for a while. At himself. At everything.
“It…looks nice. Like it would have been nice.” Spider-Man said.
“Yeah. Place is yours to clean up or whatever.” Deadpool replied, unconcerned with the comment.
“Okay,” Deadpool could not be bothered to say anything, redirecting himself to take out a bag of frozen tatter tots, placing some on a plate, and shoving them into the microwave above the stove. He rested his head against the whirling machine. Thinking. Ruminating. Spiraling. Footsteps creaked on the old wooden floor from behind him.
When he felt a hand lay flat along his back, it was a shock, not knowing Spider-Man could deliver sympathy to him like this, especially after these last few weeks. Even more so when those hands turned to arms wrapping around him, squeezing with intention, Spider-Man’s body pressed close to Deadpool’s back, sparking him to breathe quicker. It almost did not matter that it was out of pity. Spider-Man was holding him, delivering the comfort that he desperately craved.
“Wha-” Deadpool began.
“I know it's hard.” Spider-Man interjected. “Missing out on things that matter, ya know, outside of the suit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s…not your fault.” That was true. Deadpool had made that decision himself, knowing at that moment who he was choosing. He only did not want to believe it.
“You’re a good person, Wade.”
“You’re the good one,” Wade confessed, forced yet authentic. “I would do anything,” Anything you asked. A high-pitched beeping at the microwave. Deadpool did not attempt to open it. He held onto the countertop, afraid to move, as if doing so would dismantle this little moment.
Letting the pressure behind him steady and compress. Deadpool could feel remorse seeping into him from the chest that heaved slow and sullen, in the long limbs that wrapped around his waist and over his stomach. Everywhere Spider-Man touched became a different color. It was everything Deadpool had ever wanted while suffering all the same.
A heat at the back of his neck sent shivers down Deadpool’s spine. The warmth turned into tender pressures from Spider-Man’s cheeks and mouth. The clasped hands over Deadpool’s stomach spread over his abdomen, feeling his density under the leather. They moved in noticeable grips on Wade’s waist, lowering until they settled just above his hips. The body behind him was hotter than ever, pressing against him profoundly. The pressure at the back of his neck moved back and forth between his shoulders.
Deadpool was stunned at the gestures laid upon him, what he assumed or wished they implied, restricted by the mask containing them. The movement of hips swaying called to him. He had endlessly fantasized about it safely, in his mind, without repercussions, until now.
Deadpool moved his lips but did not know what he should say. The hands over him moved to the base of his suit, and Deadpool tightened at the contact. A million thoughts and questions raced through his mind. Even though Spider-Man was all he could think about, his commitment to Peter told him to resist, why he should, but the only thing he could do was make a slight sound from the hand gripping him.
Deadpool moved against the hand as it stroked him through the suit. The sensations muted the rest of the world, washing the periodic beep of the microwave and intruding thoughts of the person he should be thinking of. He put his hand on Spider-Man’s, and the stroking stopped at the restrictive touch.
This was it, a moment to stop whatever this was. He did not want to breach his devotion to Peter or ruin the strained but treasured friendship with Spider-Man, but it was apparent that tonight, all Spider-Man wanted was to be a lover instead, and Wade was weak for it. It was then that he moved the hand holding him harder against himself.
Pushing away the incessant voices telling him what to think, what to feel, what he should do, Deadpool let the contact send waves of pleasure into him. Tensing his thighs and pushing back against the hips, grinding against him.
Deadpool’s body was igniting. He turned around in Spider-Man’s arms to view him, letting his hands rest upon biceps. He knew it would be impossible to let him go if he did not stop soon. He stared at the large white eyes of Spider-Man’s mask, reflecting only himself in the dim light as if Spider-Man was only seeing him now. Spider-Man was all he could think about, how he had wanted him, to fill the void Deadpool saved just for him. They were still, but their chests moved with anticipation against each other. Moving a thumb to Spider-Man’s mask, a little for play, a little to ensure he was still here.
“Wade, I…” Spider-Man started.
The lean was effortless, making constricted motions of lips under the masks. It did not matter if they had a myriad of questions and unresolved encounters between them. The excitement of the reciprocation devoured any hesitation. Pressing his lips demandingly against Spider-Man’s, so close to almost knowing what he would taste like. Wade’s body lit up, holding his idol in his arms and allowing him to move his hands up and down his back, grabbing taught roundness, rougher with every squeeze, and pulling Spider-Man up to match his height.
Why tonight, of all nights? How long had he wanted to touch me? Tell me what you want from me. Instead of expressing lingering worry, Deadpool whispered, “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
Deadpool walked his legs forward, and Spider-Man matched his steps backward until he leaned against the opposite counter containing the kitchen. To feel Spider-Man’s abdomen under the spandex and savor every protrusion of muscle by the sculpted body at his fingertips, reminding himself to slow down as Wade explored.
This is a dream. Has to be.
Bending to his knees, Deadpool paused at the indent of Spider-Man’s belly button. Deadpool lifted his mask over his nose before firmly holding Spider-Man’s hips. Looking up to see white lenses follow his every move before sinking his face into Spider-Man’s groin. He took long inhales through his nose and hot exhales over the bulge stretching the fabric. Deadpool whiffed deeply at the crease of Spider-Man’s thigh under his erection, steaming with heat, still moist from sweat, fragrant with essence. Deadpool could not get enough of it. If this was a dream, he was appreciative he could implicitly be allowed what he would do next.
Deadpool felt up Spider-Man’s suit, fingers creeping upward to find the separation and pull it down slowly. Peering up at Spider-Man, who was still watching him remove the tight fabric, releasing the firmness trapped within, bouncing out with weight and need.
Deadpool admired the endowment. Perfect, stiff, and perked at the ready. The length was appetizing and encouraged Deadpool to protrude his lips, licking them as he let his fingers and palms lightly caress. He gave gentle kisses, lingering over every unique feature. His fingers traveled over the scar that marked his symbolic initiation to God, squeezing lightly toward the sensitive rosey tip, forming beads of glistening arousal.
Gripping Spider-Man, Deadpool held the girth, full and completely, letting his pinky rest just so on where the beautiful piece met Spider-Man’s pelvis. He dragged his tongue over Spider-Man’s base to his tip, hanging his mouth open as he licked up any fluid that escaped. He felt the tension of Spider-Man’s pleasure, thighs tightening and cock thickening. All the indulgence Spider-Man felt could surely not compare to the satisfaction of Deadpool delivering it.
Deadpool’s tongue made teasing laps, circling Spider-Man’s ridge, who moaned wantingly as his chest heaved, still watching with reflective lenses. Deadpool’s lips were puckered and tight, using his tongue to create a soft and tight reservoir as more of Spider-Man slid into his mouth until meeting thick hairs.
“Ah, fuuck,” Spider-Man moaned.
Containing a smile at hearing the curse, satisfied it was in delight and not in contempt for once. Deadpool kept the pressure of his lips moving just over Spider-Man’s ridge, again and again, stimulating the tip with alternating pressures, playing before inviting in even more of Spider-Man.
With a deep growl, Spider-Man curled over and placed a hand on the back of Deadpool’s head. The motion was lavish praise, indicating Deadpool was doing precisely what he set out to do when kneeling before Spider-Man. It caused him to grind his hips, feeling his suit becoming more constrictive. A frustration crept over Deadpool, bobbing over the perfect cock, he thought of how much pleasure he wished to receive from it. Intensifying his efforts as his fervor flared. Wade gripped and applied pressure with the wrap of his fingers as he bobbed, taking in Spider-Man’s bitterness.
Pulling back, Deadpool looked up at Spider-Man, taking a small breath from his devotion. “You are…everything,” Deadpool confessed.
“God, Wade, don't stop.” Spider-Man breathed.
“I’d love to see how you’d work this on me.” Deadpool teased, slopping his tongue over Spider-Man lustfully.
“Ah! Hah- I was…hoping…ehhm, you’d...”
Raising his brows, Deadpool did not expect the request. However, changing gears and following through,
“Oh, I can do all you’d like me to.” A grip that made Spider-Man stumble and grip the edge of the counter behind him. Deadpool lapped up the delectable substance that came forth. The shiver he received from Spider-Man reverberated through him as his own.
“Can you…” Spider-Man began, tugging at the back of Deadpool’s mask. “Please. I want to see you.”
Deadpool hesitated, fear lingering longer than he wished to show. Merely looking up at the large white lenses that he would never ask that of. Submitting, Deadpool pulled off the mask completely, the room's cool air hitting his skin as he struggled to keep eye contact with the horrid image reflecting at him, disgusted, ashamed. He looked down to avoid his reflection.
A hand cupped his face, returning to turn his head back up to Spider-Man, seeing he had lowered close to him. The fingers moved along Wade’s face, feeling along grooves of scars and wounds, touching them tenderly, lovingly. Stunned, Wade froze by the compassion bestowed upon him.
“Beautiful,” Spider-Man whispered longingly. Wade’s lips pressed against the fabric that housed the mouth he wished he could taste. For a moment, he did not remember he could move or breathe. Closing his eyes and getting lost in the reception of divine acceptance. The spark emanating at the top of his skull, hearing that word, collapsed his mind and body, leaving him in a willful purgatory of requited adoration. Before he knew it, Spider-Man pulled away, and it was over. It was everything. It had been, and continued to be, fueling him.
Wade wanted to convey something profound, only to succumb to what he knew, handling the squish of cheeks in his hands, gripping, and taking Spider-Man fully into his mouth, sloppy and wet. He bobbed with tight constrictions, sensing saliva escape at the corner of his mouth to slicken the length he was claiming. Spider-Man used a hand to grab the side of Wade’s head and the other to the edge of the counter, cracking it slightly from his grip. “Aha! S-sorry,” His faux pas mitigated by the pace of Wade’s bobbing upon Spider-Man needingly to embrace the confines at the back of Wade’s throat. The taste of Spider-Man was electric. A fantasy gone too far, he thought, and if it was, Wade would live it until it dissipated.
Wade could feel Spider-Man tremble and shake, pushing deeper with each motion, massaging the cheeks in his hands with greater tension, anxious to taste Spider-Man’s deliverance. The tension around Wade’s lips captured Spider-Man’s glory as the liquid filled his mouth, coating his tongue with thick bitterness. The juts passing his throat warmed him, and the remainder stuck between his teeth and gums like cotton candy.
Pulling away, Wade outstretched his tongue to show Spider-Man how well he received his gift. However, he became disoriented by a shot to his eye that impaired his vision. Taking a hand to wipe his face, Wade reviewed the evidence as not cum but a thin shot of webbing, still attached to Spider-Man’s wrist.
“Just like honey.” Wade praised. Peeling the webbing from his temple, “Didn’t know you could do it like that.” he expressed, cocking his head, inspecting it curiously.
“I’ve…ha- got a…few tricks up my sleeve.” Spider-Man jested.
“No kiddin’”
Reviewing the webbing around his fingers, Wade pondered how many times he had seen it and where. He looked at Spider-Man as he sucked the fine substance from his fingers, musty, with a salty tang. A part of him wished he had tried it sooner.
Returning to his feet, Wade caressed Spider-Man’s body on his way up, embracing tight muscles of thighs, hips, and chest before holding the bottom definition of Spider-Man’s jaw, who had to move his head upward to look at Wade now. Wade’s thumb moved over the small space under where his nose would be.
“Can I?” Wade asked, almost begging.
Quicker than expected, Spider-Man lifted his mask just above his nose, enough to expose wet and parted lips, the flush from his cheeks noticeable from the bit of skin blending in a loving shade with the cluster of freckles. He had seen them before, but viewing them now was a privilege.
Pressing his lips to Spider-Man’s was more than satisfying. Hot and setting Wade’s soul on fire. More than soft. Making him melt and living up to every fantasy that ever tortured him. Even though he stood still, his world seemed to spin chaotically. Spider-Man was the only thing he dared to cling onto. When Spider-Man’s arms wrapped around Wade’s neck, he swore he could burst into song. The taste and play of Spider-Man’s tongue was singing to him. Even though he knew it did not exist, this feeling must have been heaven sent.
Steady hands cupped Wade’s jaw, running thumbs across his cheekbones before Spider-Man separated momentarily, lips hovering just so with Wade’s, perceiving nervousness with a subtle quiver of his mouth. The moment before Spider-Man spoke was thick with expectation. Nothing higher than a breathy whisper, “Fuck me.”
Feverishly capturing Spider-Man, Wade grabbed the spandex to pull the body within it flush against his, with a cupping grip at Spider-Man’s neck, leaning into him to lock his lips aggressively. Matching his vigor, Spider-Man wrapped his arms in a slick embrace, Wade felt the fingers move to the seam that covered the zipper of his suit behind his neck. Wade groaned deeply into Spider-Man’s mouth as he felt the zipper unfurl and loosen at his shoulders. Loving bites excited Wade as ferocious little wounds formed and then healed at his collarbone, unable to have the time to color or swell. The arousal from the pain encouraged Wade to match the assault of saliva and nipping of tender flesh just at the collar of Spider-Man’s neck.
Freed enough from his suit to remove his arm, Wade fondled Spider-Man’s waist before securely holding the taught cheeks in his hands as he pushed his Spider atop the counter, pushing aside cooking utensils accompanied by the clatter of metal sheets and small jars of spice hitting the floor.
Spider-Man’s permissions sent Wade over the edge, twisting and pushing slender hips against the counter. Spider-Man arched, puffing his chest to turn enough and continue receiving Wade’s aggressive kisses. Impatient, Wade bent Spider-Man so his stomach lay flat on the counter. Wade’s mind had one objective, and the more Spider-Man surrendered to his touch, the more possessed he became.
Separating the spandex low at Spider-Man’s waist, Wade peeled down the fabric past a beautiful sight that made him twitch to part way down sturdy thighs before Wade detected a subtle purple piece of silicone nestled where he intended to claim.
“Well, what’s this now?” Wade questioned with an entertained smirk.
Spider-Man looked back at Wade slightly with a mischievous grin. “You weren’t the only one who had plans tonight.” He said.
Wade felt over the rippling sides of Spider-Man’s thighs as they spread for him, continuing to remove the tight fabric confining Spider-Man’s legs. Wade groped at a cheek, pulling roughly before giving it a slight smack with his palm. Gently returning his fingers to the reddening mark, Wade turned inward to play at the sensitive endowment that was still flushed and throbbing.
Blocking intrusive thoughts, Wade stopped thinking too deeply about what he was doing and decided to play with the rubbery stopper, fiddling it between his fingers and giving it slight tugs.
“You’re a little pervert, aren’t you?” Wade accused. Happily. “How long you been wearing this?”
Wade almost missed the slight huff expelled from Spider-Man, unable to tell if it was due to the teasing of his pride or his hole.
“Gonna do something about it?” Spider-Man finally said, unable to hide his frustration.
“Testing me?” Wade retorted with a resounding dominance. A pull at the silicone elicited an audible wet ‘pop’ from its reservoir, still slick and shining. Wade could feel his dick pulse, thinking about being inside the moist entrance, twitching greedily for him. Wade strained, stroking himself at the thought of Spider-Man waiting for him. Wade performed jestful pushes and pulls with the toy, watching Spider-Man stretch as it was easily sucked back in until trapped, rosey flesh flexing indignantly around it.
Haughty moans lured Wade to agonize Spider-Man further, twisting the toy round and round while slowly pushing it out and in again, finding joy in torturing him ever so slightly.
With a slick and full release, the toy was removed, Spider-Man whined and puckered in need of more. Teasing Spider-Man’s hole with a thumb, running over it gently, testing pressures to see how easily his thumb would slip in just so. An invitation. Wade extended his tongue, removing his thumb and making a long stride from Spider-Man’s sac, across his taint, lingering at his entrance to leave prolonged wet tastings, feeling Spider-Man shiver with each licking. An inhale of sweat and musk shook Wade with excitement before separating Spider-Man with his tongue. Velvet heat, hotter than any imagination, rolling his tongue in the beautiful space.
“Open up for me,” Wade commanded with a smack of his lips.
Obeying, Spidey relaxed his waist, arching his hips higher in submissive presentation.
“Wade, please,” Spider-Man begged.
So impatient. Even though all Wade wanted was to give in to Spider-Man, he was enjoying his work, never having felt hedonistic ecstasy in how his face fit between Spider-Man’s cheeks. The fortune of this man he had desired trusting him with his most precious of parts.
Wade could not help but take the cheeks perked at him in handfuls, feeling the tight mounds squish between his fingers, becoming red from the pressure. How the release of his fingers left white streaks when he took them away, then waited as the color quickly returned. In a reprieve, Wade kissed up Spider-Man’s back, firmly holding his waist and running his fingers over his stomach, lifting tight fabric over his chest, finding rigid nipples, pinching them and making the body under him grind against his pelvis, perking with anticipation.
This is for me. He is giving himself to me.
Wade could sense heat radiating from himself and the welcoming warmth of the skin he slid against. A heavenly dream to watch himself rest between begging cheeks, sliding back and forth. Breaths of frustration passed through Spider-Man’s lips as he writhed with desire.
“Please,” Spider-Man whispered, kicking off his suit trousers.
“Spidey,” Wade returned lasciviously.
“Please, please,” Spider-Man continued to plead in a hushed tone.
Aligning, Wade pushed in slowly, separating the precious space with a pained sigh that constricted around him. He watched his Spider hunched over the counter, releasing gasps. Wade cautiously forced in more of himself, groaning in discomfort, only to be pushed out.
“S-sorry. It’s…been a while. I’ll open up, I promise.” Spider-Man said hopeful, though hearing the words, Wade’s head spun, a trick of the mind he attempted to push away, redirecting his thoughts to comfort his Spider as disjointed movements attempted to please him.
“Relax,” Wade encouraged, giving reassuring pets along Spider-Man’s spine. “We got all the time in the world.”
Wade held steady as he attempted to into the tightness around him, just enough for Spider-Man to adjust. The inside of him was hot, becoming Wade’s heat, squeezing the life out of him.
Through the cruel pressure, Wade gripped Spider-Man just below his waist, rocking slow and deliberately. The more of him that conquered, the more his body told him that inside of Spider-Man was the only place he wanted to be, the only place he ever needed to be. Moving as much as Spider-Man would let him, cautiously restricting his instinct to dominate, taking deep breaths, and leaning slightly over Spider-Man, giving light squeezes to his waist for comfort. It was the right thing to do. Reminding himself to take his time and not hurt the delightful creature beneath him.
Awkwardly raising his hips, Spider-Man gracelessly pushed onto Wade, which only pushed him out completely. With the release, Spider-Man winced in relief, but Wade saw a bite to his lower lip, weary in the turn of his head.
“Wanna keep going?” Wade asked nervously.
“Y-yes!” Spider-Man exclaimed, almost defensive.
“Take your time then, lil’ bug. Let me take care of you.” Wade soothed, trailing fingers down Spier-Man’s side. “Touch yourself some.”
Spider-Man immediately took to the instruction, shifting his arm, stroking under himself, and lifting his behind again. Wade ground himself between the presenting cheeks, sliding past the heat of pink twitching for him as Spider-Man rolled his hips in tandem with Wade’s persistent grinding.
“Feel good?” Wade asked, captivated by Spider-Man’s determination to be fucked by him.
“Mmmm,” Wade teased his tip, slipping against Spider-Man and watching his tip slightly sink in. A demanding sound escaped from under him.
“Want me, baby?”
“Haah,” Spider-Man rutted into his glove, tightening the muscles of his buttocks before releasing and pushing back onto Wade. “D-don’t tease me.”
“Tell me you want me.” Wade enjoyed the little power he held over Spider-Man, knowing neither could stop now, but he knew neither could help but savor the moment.
“Give it to me now, Wade,”
“Hmm,” Wade mocked, gliding his thumb over the ridge of his cock as he restrained to allow the curve of his tip to disappear into the hole that was begging for him. “So bossy, sure you’re ready for me?”
“I-ah! I need…mm,” Wade controlled himself enough to let the head of his dick separate Spider-Man ever so slightly before retreating in a play of power, bending to the exposed shoulder blades and delivering kisses, finding ripples of flesh with his teeth and biting with increasing pressure. “Ah! Fuck-fuuuck! Please fuck me! God, I need you!”
The pleas were intoxicating, plunging into Spider-Man a little too quickly, at first receiving sharp muffled gasps, then lustfully strained sighs as the heat and constriction engulfed Wade. Moans from under him were staggered as he felt Spider-Man stretch for him. The silky heat of Spider-Man was irresistible. Wade’s urges guided him. A look of reflective lenses and flushed lips twisted toward him, contorted in pained delight.
Wade leaned, deepening into Spider-Man, taken by the dream of watching the muscles of his back flex and twist to angle himself just right, readily accepting Wade with pleasure. With the ease of his thrusts, Wade hovered over Spider-Man, becoming closer to him until his chest compressed against Spider-Man’s back. Wrapping arms under him, Wade held onto the body tightly. He needed more and took it with every cry from the dream beneath him. He was losing his senses, what was left of them, only thinking of Spider-Man pulsing around his cock.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, Webs.” Wade professed.
Whining in bewitched pitches. “God, I’ve missed you.”
Missed me,
“Spidey, ohh, s’good. So perfect, ah, I wanna fuck you forever. Fuck you till I die.” The prolonged anticipation of the night and foreplay had excited Wade, deliverance calling to him quicker than he would have liked, but he could not hold back from it any longer. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Deja que papá te alimente. Take all of me.”
Missed me,
Spider-Man held Wade’s hands under himself, stabling through the intense delivery of thrusts. “I-I want it, Wade. Mmnn! I want it- ah! Give it to me!”
“Ahhah, F-uck!” Wade’s pelvis strained, urging him to pound deeply and with vigor into the hole that was sucking him in further and further. He shook violently with each hit, his pace quickening as much as his breath labored, balls tightening painfully close to him as Wade felt the release rush over him. His eyes closed hard, and all he could see was white, pure euphoria with every jolt that Wade filled into Spider-Man. His entire body tensed in stimulation, thrusting and pushing himself deeper into the gorgeous creature Wade had only fantasized about, until now. For a moment, he felt that he had ascended to the same station as his Spider.
Laying completely over Spider-Man, Wade huffed in comfort above shoulder blades that expanded and rested in heavy breaths.
“I can- Mmahh, feel you-ha,” Spider-Man’s hips pushed up toward Wade, squeezing as he did so. It made Wade twitch at his newfound sensitivity.
All Wade could muster was to hum, still consumed in the afterglow. Through exhaustion, Wade kissed along Spider-Man’s spine, enjoying the perspiration he sensed over his lips.
Spider-Man lifted from the counter, twisting agilely to cusp Wade in his palm and deliver a kiss. The heat emanating from Spider-Man left Wade dumb, holding the slender body in his arms. The reciprocation from the embrace allowed him to forget who he was while finding his soul all the same.
In a quick release, disconnecting from Spider-Man felt like a sin.
Turning the body in his arms was so easy. Wade reminded himself it was the same form he knew was strong enough to destroy him, yet, he rested in the embrace of Wade, obedient as he nibbled about under Spider-Man’s jawline, taking in the sweet melody of pleasure ringing next to his ear, encouraging him to press his teeth harder into the flesh. Oh, how he had hungered, devouring Spider-Man until his favorite places were moist and hot with redness.
A fog of satisfaction lingered over Wade, and he let the hands groping him lead him from the kitchen, partly tripping over feet that navigated him down upon the couch, opening his eyes to look over Spider-Man’s image, removing the top of his suit while carefully leaving the mask untouched. Through the lenses, Wade saw Spider-Man review him, stroking himself as he stood before him, disrobed other than a lone boot that did not make it off with his trousers earlier.
“I’m not done with you.” Spider-Man declared, nestling bare thighs over Wade, knees resting next to his hips. Wade could feel the heat of Spider-Man’s groin pressing against him. Spider-Man took Wade’s jaw in his hands, lifting his face to look back at the mysterious set of features at freckled cheeks he would never see.
All I want is to be loved by you.
Wade’s brain fell apart when Spider-Man pressed those loving lips to his.
Used by you.
Rough and needing, Wade struggled to match the momentum, stabilizing the grinding by gripping the muscular thighs trapping him. The pressure of Spider-Man’s tongue slipping inside of him was all-consuming. With returning strength, Wade wrestled with the tongue invading him. They both clutched the other as Spider-Man’s grinding intensified, inciting Wade to painfully harden again at the availability of being taken.
Leaning his head back in the embrace of lips and hands, Spider-Man artfully rutted Wade’s dick to erect for him, running the length between his cheeks, slickly sliding with cum Wade had left inside him. Wade moaned into Spider-Man’s mouth, who joined him in fervor, handling Wade and aligning with him. The elation of entering the new space he called home was sublime. Wade watched as the figure before him settled, taking him in as he felt the inside of Spider-Man stretch effortlessly for him. With an inciting moan, Spider-Man bounced, his hands about Wade’s neck to keep himself steady.
“Yeah, fuck yeah, Wade! Uhhhn!”
Spider-Man arched his chest upward in the pleasure he found, cries of pleasure reverberating through his chest as Wade ran his fingers over hardened pink nipples. His hands slid down tight pectorals and abs, making sure to commit each move of seduction to memory.
“Is this real?” Wade took the erection slapping Spider-Man’s stomach in his hand and pumped. ”Are you really here?”
Spider-Man slowed his pace, cupping Wade’s cheek in his hand, slowing his pace slightly. “I’m…right here. I’ve been here-mmah, this whole time. Waiting for you.”
“God, You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” Wade confessed, pumping the flushed dick in front of him, beading with precum, wetting his strokes.
The rocking of Spider-Man over him was pure desire.
Can’t you see what’s happening to me?
The way Spider-Man took control, doing what he liked to Wade’s body, deconstructing him with love and adoration.
What you’re doing to me…
All the while, Spider-Man lessened his grip on Wade’s shoulders, rolling his hips slow and controlled. Watching Wade, searching for something.
What are we doing?
Wade held the hips rocking over him, holding onto flesh sliding against his thighs, looking into the eyes of the mask that never faltered. Even as Spider-Man’s head leaned back, holding a hand on Wade’s knee, their eyes never left the other. The heavy breaths of the performance Spider-Man gratified from Wade was transcendent, watching as his idol pleasured himself.
What am I doing?
Running needing fingers along the sculpted form, Wade felt over every muscle, sucking at a nipple perked for his taking. Licking in slow laps, inciting moans that traveled into his body.
The flow did not feel like pity, not only lust, as if Spider-Man was channeling into Wade a force that needed to be healed. Returning, Spider-Man hung his head, gripping tightly over Wade’s head.
“I’m- ah… Hah…haah… I’m gonna,”
Wade continued to pump, tensing at the sight, his hand slick with fluid to forward passion seeping onto him, grinding in deep-spirited moans. Wade felt Spider-Man tighten around him, feeling the angle of his hips hit over the node that sustained the sounds of erupting rapture. Agonizing yet fulfilled as he saw those eyes continue to meet his with desperation.
“Let go, I wanna feel you.”
No one else could place fingers around his neck like he could. No one else could make him feel elevated or under his skin. Wade heaved in the existence of living in the requital of what he once considered a shadow of intimacy.
Flooded with endorphins, pulsing and pushing, Spider-Man tensed in Wade’s hand, hunching over slightly before releasing, throwing his head back in forlorn ecstasy, his voice a thunder of pleasure that made Wade shiver in the rhythmic pulsing around him.
Pale skin flushed at Spider-Man’s neck and chest. Wade reviewed the ripple of flesh at Spider-Man’s abdomen, his eyes traveling up to view skin damp with sweat, dripping over pecs and nipples and falling onto Wade and mingling with cum pooling at his muscles. Swiping the fluid with his thumb, lifting it to his mouth, and letting his tongue curl and lap it up. Wade looked back and forth from the two lenses, carefully observing every little movement of Spider-Man’s lips and tongue, the flare of his nostrils, and the slight way he creened his neck as Wade assumed he was doing the same thing.
No matter how many times Wade saw it coming, fingers pressing his cheeks, the brush of Spider-Man’s nose and lips, as he felt the wet heat of their tongues slip past the other, a flight of fancy out of his most wild imaginations.
Wade held the hips in his lap, rocking them and closing his eyes, taken by the never-ending thrill of him.
Smelling his breath and skin.
“Wade,” The voice called, breathless and tender.
“Baby,” Feeling the muscles in his hands, the taste that lingered in his mouth. “Haah, ha-”
“Mmmah- Wade! Aah!”
The hymn that passed through lips, calling for him.
“So…p-perfect, Peter,”
Wade’s chest compressed, forcing his breathing to stop. If he was not dead, he wished he was. Just as he stopped, so did Spider-Man’s rocking, his mouth slightly opened as he slowly put a hand to his mask.
“Sorry, I… I,” Wade flumbered, failing at any justification or excuse.
Guilt swept over like a tidal wave, never experiencing the profound idiocracy of his mouth the way he did right now. All he could do as he attempted to find words to save himself, but as each second passed, the shock of Spider-Man’s expression turned into a roughish smile, pressing two fingers over Wade’s mouth ever so softly, all the more disorienting Wade.
“Shaddup.”
Knodding, Wade groaned in relief of Spider-Man getting up and releasing him. Wade watched as Spider-Man stepped about his apartment, a hand holding the top of his head. He did not think his anxiety could flare any further until a thwip hit his chest and propelled him to the ceiling with a modest thud. Just as quickly, Wade felt his wrists and ankles pinned by shots of webbing keeping him in place. When investigating his bindings, Wade saw webbing glisten at his forearms. At that moment, Spider-Man made a light jump, his fingertips sticking to the ceiling. Watching the flex of biceps and shoulders pull up Spider-Man’s body and crouch over him completely. Spider-Man twisted his neck and shoulders as his knees and hips spread flatly over Wade, overpowering him with authority.
Wade’s body became hot as blood rushed to his cheeks and forehead, his body adjusting to the new pull of gravity, making him more aware of his powerlessness to the man stalking over him like a wounded animal ready to be devoured.
“Look at me.” Wade gazed over the form of Spider-Man, gliding his hands thickly sculpted muscles, strained and twitching in the confinement. Spider-Man’s tongue hung from his mouth as he lovingly lapped at Wade’s nipple, and Wade released a moan of delight at the soft play of Spider-Man’s tongue, gasping at the force of teeth biting around the sensitive area. Spider-Man tilted his head to Wade’s, his tongue licking his lips with animalistic hunger. “I’m gonna make you scream my name all night long.”
Wade settled in his restraints, unable to determine if Spider-Man’s threat was a blessing, or a curse.
~~~~~~~~~~
Awoken. Having only seemed to have fallen asleep, Wade panted, alerted to the touch at his shoulder. He did not recall why his heart was beating so fiercely, the images and emotions fading as the silhouette of Spider-Man replaced them.
“You’re alright. Just a bad dream.” Spider-Man consoled, softly running a hand over Wade’s chest.
Wade collected himself, letting the moment happen as he settled back onto the mattress, returning light touches to Spider-Man’s cheek, hopeful to confirm this was not some rouse of his mind. “Not anymore.”
“Go back to sleep.” Spider-Man lulled, turning over and nestling in the curve of Wade.
The limbs beside him were cold. Wade was inclined to wrap his legs and arms around the smaller form, squeezing the arm in his hand. A sense of comfort settled over him.
“What if I don’t wanna?” Wade attempted to convince Spider-Man, running his hand over Spider-Man’s waist and finding newfound energy from Spider-Man comforting him. Perhaps he could elicit more of it.
“I’m tired,” Spider-Man complained as Wade carnally pushed against the supple space at the peak of Spider-Man’s warm thighs.
“Too tired for me?”
Spider-Man turned slightly, enough to view Wade, who kissed Spider-Man just under his ear. Wade was soon met with the intent of an arm using him as leverage to angle deeper meet for prolonged contact at his lips as the lift of Spider-Man’s leg around his own answered his question.
~~~~~~~~~~
When Wade opened his eyes, the apartment was bright. The light of the early morning shown with tremendous clarity, but he was not ready to get up yet. His eyes pained from the cool light shining onto him, pressing his face deeper into the pillow. Wade curled under the thin sheet to warm himself before outstretching an arm.
At the thought, Wade shifted his angle, feeling cold spots where the wetness had not entirely dried. Memories from just a few hours before came in pieces. Treasures of Spider-Man begging for him, what he was allowed to do to him, the little things Spider-Man said to him in the heat of the moment. He could not help but close his eyes and revisit the sequence of events.
Wade’s romanticizing was disrupted by the sound of vibration from the floor. Wade groaned as he reached for the floor and grabbed his phone. Swiping, he saw it was nothing important. By instinct, he checked his messages and saw Peter had never replied to him. He turned on his back, looking at the names of Spider-Man and Peter side by side. With a heavy sigh, Wade tapped the phone to his forehead, ashamed, wishing his betrayal to Peter had only been a beautiful nightmare.