Peter had had enough. Crouching on the top of an apartment building he was looking down on the streets below, furious. Chants were traveling all 12 stories and an attic up to his ears, the protesters shouting passionately. Their strong voices made up for their relatively small number. Slurs echoed around the high buildings. Peter clenched his jaw. He didn’t even want to think about how the people living here felt. How unsafe it must feel to have somebody shout a slur you’ve been called directly in front of your house. If there were kids around.
Easily jumping from roof to roof, he followed the protest through the streets. Usually Spiderman tried to stay out of political stuff, but he was fucking fuming right now. These assholes would not walk through his city without problem. Scoffing, he looked down at the police officers lazily trailing along with the protest, barely paying attention. Pathetic. Of course the NYPD was blind in their right eye. Probably had a couple coworkers among the protesters.
Peter tried his best to calm down for a second to assess the situation. About 200 people were walking the street, a couple of them stereotypical skinheads, most of them more normal looking alt right people. They were shouting atrocities and carried signs with holocaust jokes. The police were stan-ding-by. He could feel his jaw clenching again. Assholes.
In one of the upcoming alleys he noticed a group of people in all black, waiting for the demonstration to move closer. At least the neonazis wouldn’t be allowed to roam without any opposition. He watched as the group quickly spread across the street, sitting down with interlocking limbs, effectively blocking the protesters path. Peter climbed a little lower, careful to stay out of sight but ready to step in the second he saw any violence. He fixed his stare on the police officers as they carried the blockade away one by one. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any major issues.
After the first person was carried away it became clear quite quickly that it would take some time to dissolve the blockade. He watched as the officers gathered them on the side of the street, encircling everyone they already carried away.
With a couple of webs, Peter swung around the corner to a store, gathering supplies. He prayed to god he had enough money on his credit card right now to do this. But the brave interrupters deserved support. Knowing the NYPD they were likely to be held captive for a couple hours, if not longer. It was harder to be sneaky while carrying a pallet of water bottles and some snacks, but he managed somehow. He lay down on his belly on top of a building and lowered his gifts carefully down on a webstrand. Fortunately, the captured people were smart enough not to say a word as a big packet of food lowered down in their middle. Before the police even noticed what was going on, they were helping themselves, greedily emptying water bottles and stuffing their bags. Peter smiled softly to himself. That was his good deed for the day done. What would follow would be far less wholesome, he predicted.
The protesters completed the rest of their route without any other disruptions. Peter followed along, staying hidden and trying to come up with a plan. As much as he wanted to, it wasn’t smart to just swing in there and start throwing punches. They were far too many for him to take on alone, even with his super strength. And, as much as he hated it, he really couldn’t weather the kind of back-lash he would receive if he publicly enacted violence against “peaceful” protesters as Spiderman. Unfortunately, being a nazi somehow wasn’t a crime and his standing was precarious as it was.
So, he waited it out, staying vigilant but trying to remain as calm as possible. As the protest dissipated, he crept into the shadow of a nearby alley. Mustering a little self control he didn’t purposely follow any one of the protesters. They would come to him, if it was meant to be. A weak attempt to relieve himself of the guilt of what was to come, blaming it on the universe and its timing.
His spidey sense tingled.
A sick sense of satisfaction spread through him at the prospect of getting a couple of those assholes alone behind a dumpster. Peter could hear their voices, loud and boisterous in the small space.
“Can’t believe those stupid faggots blocked our way! There’s no free speech in this country anymore!”
The slur made his sense scream at him and he could feel every muscle in his body tense up. Unconsciously, he was bouncing on his toes where he was crouched. The answer contained even more cruel words, but Peter didn’t wait to hear that. Pushing off the ground and the wall next to him, he was in front of them in a flash.
There were four of them, two tall and two stocky, each one broad and muscular. The one in the front had a clean shaven head adorned with a clunky tribal tattoo. It was impressively ugly.
Foregoing his usual quips, Peter went straight for the jugular. Literally.
With a swift stride he had one of the men in a chokehold, landing a pointed kick to the back of his knee at the same time. The others were on him in seconds, shouting and throwing punches. It was pure chaos. Peter could feel the adrenaline kicking in, his spidey senses guiding his movements, super strength behind every punch. Fueled by his anger, he felt in his element. In his usual fights he didn’t let himself get carried away like this, let himself enjoy the fight. But he was angry and he had had a shitty week full of disappointments and these assholes more than deserved it.
There was a strange relief in the fact that he couldn’t bring them to the police. The last months had really shown him how pointless it all was, picking up the same criminals again and again, victims telling him how they were laughed out of the police station when they tried to report the incident. Not even mentioning the times he went to help someone injured, just to be told they were beaten up by police. It seemed more and more like there was no use turning people in. With these guys though, Peter didn’t even need to feel an obligation to do so. They hadn’t committed a crime (that he knew of), they just deserved a couple of punches to the face for being giant racist assholes. And Peter was there to give that to them.
The guys were surprisingly persistent, probably more used to getting beaten up than his usual criminals. It wasn’t easy, fighting all four, especially since they were taller than him and pretty strong. Any non-enhanced human wouldn’t stand a chance. Luckily, Peter had his power and plenty of fighting experience over the years, so he managed to match them pretty well, only catching a couple of hits thus far.
They were panting by now and Peter figured it was time to wrap this up. With a series of quick kicks and jabs he took one of them down, kicking him in the ribs where he lay. Then he pounced on the rest of them. Ducking out of the way and jumping into a backflip to gain some space, he could feel his spidey sense tingle again. Panicked, he whipped his head around.
A police officer checking out the noise or some tik tok kid with a camera ready was the last thing he could use right now. Part of his brain was still acutely aware that this was definitely not his usual gig and that he had an image to uphold.
He let out a big sigh of relief when he saw Deadpool instead. If there was one person he’d be comfortable with seeing his questionable ways to let out frustration, it was Wade. Not like the guy really had a leg to stand on when it came to moral purity.
“Oh, it’s you.” Peter remarked as a greeting and then turned back to the neonazis, easily blocking an attacking fist. He could hear Deadpool shifting around behind him, probably figuring out the situation, but Peter was a bit too busy throwing punches to turn around again. Wade had apparently come to the conclusion that Peter didn’t need any help and stayed a couple feet away from the fight.
“These guys criminals?” he asked unperturbed, just an air of calm curiosity behind the question.
Peter got a burly arm in his tight grip and slammed the guy over his shoulder. His stocky body hit the ground with a heavy thud. The remaining two stopped a second to send worried glances to their comrade and then advanced on Peter again.
“Nah, worse, they’re neonazis.” Peter called out, jumping to the ground to avoid a punch, He barely caught himself with his hands before hitting the pavement. While he was down there, he aimed a forceful kick at the guy’s kneecaps and sent him tripping. In one quick movement, Peter sat on the guy's chest, keeping him in place and landing a heavy blow to his face.
“Fuckfaces.” Deadpool spat out. Peter could see him nodding his appreciation from the corner of his eye.
He didn’t have time to reply, concentrating instead on the last standing member of the group. Peter sprang up quickly, catching a punch to the stomach in a second of scrambling. Fuck, that hurt, He winced and then went back in with renewed vigor.
“Not really your usual style, huh?” Wade questioned, His tone was chill on the surface, but Peter could hear a real curiosity lingering underneath. Maybe even a bit of worry.
He shrugged (as much as that was possible while constantly moving and sending your elbow into someone’s face).
“What makes you say that?” Peter’s elbow hit the guy against the ear and sent him stumbling back a bit. Peter closed the distance again immediately, managing to grab both of his arms with force.
“I mean, you seem pretty heated. And you’re not using those webs of yours at all. I always thought the pretty packaging was what you’re into,”
Twisting the guy’s arms behind his back in a police hold, Peter thought it over for a second.
“It’s more fun this way. Really makes me feel it, you know.”
He could hear a surprised gasp from Deadpool. The guy was struggling against him and Peter had had enough of him. Roughly, he pushed him flat on the ground, arms crossed behind his back.
“Oh I know, baby boy, but I didn’t know that you know!” Wade was excited.
It should probably be a cause of worry for Peter to say he was having fun while beating people up. It should probably be disconcerting that he was relating to Deadpool on this. Peter didn’t really want to think about any of that right now though.
With a quick flick of his wrist he webbed the guys one by one to the ground. He walked a quick round across the alley, checking that they were conscious. His no killing rule really was too ingrained in him to ignore even when he let loose like this.
They were badly injured, but they would be okay. As he rounded on the last guy, the dude muttered a series of slurs at him. Peter stomped him on the face, his nose cracking loudly. Inching his mask up a tiny bit, he spat him right between the eyes, then turned around.
Wade somehow conveyed an impression somewhere between being impressed and being scared through the mask.
“Fuck those assholes.Let’s go.” Peter said with a shrug.
He walked past Deadpool down the alley and rounded a corner, leaving the group of guys behind them. In the state they were in, he was pretty sure they couldn’t come after them even if they wanted to. And he didn’t think they wanted to. Also, Deadpool was wearing katanas and about fifteen guns on his body, which usually served as a deterrent for any non-super.
Wade threw one muscular arm across Peter’s shoulders in a “bro” move and asked:
“Are you good though? That was pretty intense.”
Peter took a second to breathe and check his body sensations before answering. He did actually feel good, most of his body was perfectly fine. Something was thrumming through his veins though.
Peter slung his right arm around Wade’s waist in a decidedly not “bro” way, hand resting on his hip bone, fingers caressing teasingly.
“I could be better…” he considered suggestively, a playful lilt in his voice. The adrenaline was slowly wearing off but he still felt full of energy, needing an entirely different outlet after the fight. He sometimes got like this after a specifically rough encounter, feeling powerful and craving more physicality. His body molded to Wade’s side naturally, head leaning in more than usual.
Wade swallowed roughly.
His big hand covered Peter’s on his hip bone, stopping the soft trailing towards his crotch and tightly linking their fingers instead.
“Yeah…yeah, we can do that. Not here though.”
Peter chuckled.
“Obviously not here. Come on, big guy, if you behave I’ll give you a ride.”
He could feel himself smirking under the mask, easily taking control of the situation. Peter loved how easy for it Wade was, how he turned to putty in his hands the second he expressed interest.
Peter could probably come up to him mid fight or right in front of Captain America or break into his house in the middle of the night and he’d be down to fuck right then and there if Peter just asked. It made Peter even hornier. He loved feeling desired.
Wade was already behind him, grabbing onto his shoulders, ready for take off. Peter picked him up without a struggle and crawled up the wall. It was brick and gave plenty of texture for him to grip onto. He crossed the roof in a few big strides and then jumped, sending them soaring through the air. Wade’s thighs tightened around his ways and he couldn’t help but cop a feel with his left hand, which was supporting Wade’s weight at his ass.
Wade sucked in a breath. “Focus, baby boy,”
Peter sent out a perfectly timed web to stop the fall and move them around the corner, laughing as he did so.
“Pretty rich coming from you.” he scoffed without real heat behind it.
Behind him he could feel Wade shrug, careful not to move too much.
“Don’t want your pretty ass to hit the ground before I can get my hands on it.”
“You’ve had your hands on it plenty of times. And your mouth. And your dick. You’d think it’d grow old by now.” Peter laughed, excitement building in his belly as previous encounters flashed in his mind.
“Baby boy, you know I could never get tired of you!” Wade cried out dramatically. Peter was pretty sure he was clutching imaginary pearls or pretending to faint or something similarly over the top, but he couldn’t see for obvious reasons.
They arrived at Peter’s apartment quickly enough, Wade climbing off his back carefully, hands lingering on his arms a moment longer than necessary.
For a second Wade was just looking at him, uncharacteristically quiet. Even through the masks, Peter felt exposed, like he was seeing right into his soul. Then, Wade broke into a lewd grin and the moment was broken.
“I need a shower first, though, You wanna join?” Peter asked, already stripping off the top half of his suit. They had done this before, multiple times and Wade had never joined him in the shower. Sometimes it seemed to Peter like Wade was still waiting for him to realize Wade actually was disgusting. Even though Peter had covered at least half of Wade’s body in cum by now, Deadpool’s brain was stubborn and incredibly good at telling lies. Wade shook his head and Peter shrugged. He would continue to ask anyway.
Grabbing a clean mask and a towel, he walked towards the bathroom. Already in the hallway, he turned around again.
“You better be naked when I get back.” he said with a smile. Wade let out a soft chuckle, but Peter knew he’d do as he was told. Wade liked Peter bossing him around and Peter loved being bossy. They were a surprisingly good match in these things.
His movements as he showered were just short of frantic, excitement from the fight mixing pleasantly with the anticipation of what was to come. He felt high strung, full of physical energy, but his mind felt strangely quiet. The fighting had left him with an almost meditative calm that came after emotional outburst, like the sleep after a long cry.
With swift movements he cleaned sweat and blood off his beaten body, rubbing roughly at his skin. His hands slowed to a more careful tempo when they crept along his ass crack, cleaning himself up intently. Warm water was streaming down his back, enveloping him in a cloud of heat. Teasingly, he let his fingers flutter along his hole, cleaning as much as playing with himself. Peter’s right hand closed tightly around his dick, stroking until he was hard. Water was dripping down his face, head tilted back. A low groan escaped him.
Scolding himself, he quickly turned off the shower. This wasn’t a one man show and he was more than ready to have some fun. Nevertheless, he gave himself a couple of tugs while drying off, just to give Wade something to look at when he came back. With a couple sprays of cologne he deemed himself presentable, pulling on a new mask over his still damp hair.
He might enjoy the sex and trust Wade to some degree, but there were certain borders Peter wasn’t willing to cross any time soon. Sure, Wade could easily use the knowledge of his apartment to discover his identity, but Peter felt pretty secure that he wouldn’t do that as long as Peter didn’t piss him off in an extreme way. But in that case, he’d also have to worry about more practical things like staying alive when an extremely skilled mercenary is furious at you. He’d rather not end up on Deadpool’s kill list (again).
Slinging the towel low on his hips, Peter walked back to his bedroom, letting his hips sway with the steps. The bulge of his still hard dick was visible through the towel and Wade’s eyes landed on it almost immediately.
Deadpool was still wearing his mask, but Peter somehow always found it easy to recognize his line of sight regardless. Other than the mask though, Wade had followed orders and was sprawled on the bed in all his naked glory. Peter almost purred at the sight, an almost predatory grin spreading over his face as he approached the bed. Wade was reclined on his elbows, legs spread out and slightly apart, body language entirely relaxed. He was ready to receive whatever Peter was willing to give. Heat coiled in his belly at the thought.
Peter was instead strung like a bow. He crawled up the bed towards Wade’s face like a panther ready to pounce. In one smooth move he swung a leg across Wade’s waist and sat on top of him.
“All good, baby boy?” Wade asked with a surprising softness, grabbing Peter by the hips gently.
Peter replied by pulling up Wade’s mask and going in for a heated kiss. Right from the start, Peter was pushing, slipping in his tongue, changing the position of his head while keeping Wade fixed between his hands. He was setting the pace. He was in control. Wade let out a gasp.
After a while, Peter let his hands roam, spreading eagerly across broad shoulders and toned chest muscles. He started a slow but forceful grind against Wade’s crotch, his own still covered by the towel. One of Wade’s big hands was trying to make its way there, but Peter stopped him with a firm grip.
“I’m calling the shots here, big guy. You gotta have to be a little more patient.” he said.
It was a game, but it also wasn’t, in a sense. Wade was big and broad and could easily pick Peter up. But Peter was Spiderman and no amount of muscles was a match for his enhanced strength. it didn’t look like it, but Peter was the one in control between them. Back in the day, they had had plenty of fights to test this theory in the wild. As long as Wade didn’t pull any weapons, Spidey could win against him. And as long as Peter kept his emotions in check, he’d try not to inflict any more pain than necessary on Wade just because he could survive it. Now, they took their frustrations out in bed. It was more fun this way.
Peter was standing again, Wade kneeling in front of him. Leather mask pushed up, tip of his nose buried in Peter’s pubic hair. He was sucking his dick without hesitation, Peter’s hand forcefully guiding him down again and again. The spit and precum and sweat were mixing between them, a loud slurping sound accompanying the movement. Peter was fucking his face and Wade was taking it, jaw falling slack, tongue sticking out to eagerly lick at the tip.
Peter gripped Wade’s neck, stopping him suddenly in his efforts. Pulling his dick out of Wade’s mouth, he turned around and bent over, bracing himself on his desk.
“Eat me out.” he ordered and Wade went to work, burying his head between his cheeks. The broad licks across his hole sent a shudder through Peter. He bit his lip, suppressing a moan. Wade pulled him impossibly close, both hands on his ass. The mask was rough on the sensitive skin, undoubtedly leaving irritated red spots in its wake. Peter leaned into the scratchy leather as much as the hot tongue, enjoying the mix of pain and pleasure. A loud moan escaped him at a particular flick at his hole. Wade knew exactly what he was doing to him. He was lapping at it quickly one moment just to slow down the next, seemingly enjoying every second. Unbearably slowly, his tongue made its way upwards, creeping along his asscrack. Peter squirmed. Wade gave him an unexpected, but not at all unwelcome bite, catching the flesh right between ass cheek and the top of the thigh. He licked and sucked at the spot for a second, probably leaving a dark hickey on Peter’s pale skin. Wade pulled off with a pop and chuckled a bit, admiring his work.
By now, Peter was riled up enough to be impatient. He dropped to his knees as well, greedily grabbing Wade’s cock and jerking him off. They tried to kiss, but it was more moaning into each other’s mouth, both too turned on to put much effort into it.
Peter pushed at his chest, guiding Wade to lay on his back on the floor. He crawled between his legs and slowly licked up the underside of Wade’s dick, looking up at him as he did.
“Fuck. Bet you got some beautiful fucking eyelashes you’re using on me right now, bet this move looks heavenly without the mask.” Wade groaned, leaning back as Peter sank down on his cock. He hummed.
“Might have gotten some compliments on that along the way.” Peter commented in a nonchalant tone, concentrating instead on licking the tip of Wade’s dick. It was consistently hard to shut Wade up during sex without quite literally sticking something down his throat and Peter made it his personal mission to get Wade past the point of coherence every time they did this.
While giving Wade the best fucking blowjob of his life, Peter let his left hand wander behind him, prepping himself with nimble fingers. Wade eating him out had left him wet and open, the first finger slipping in without much resistance. He did his best to keep Wade happy as he got more in and opened himself up. By now he was so aroused he could barely concentrate, the fingers in his ass just making him even more desperate to get fucked. One of his fingers hit the right spot. Peter let out an involuntary whine and it flipped a switch in him.
In a rush he pulled off Wade’s dick and sat up. His right arm grabbed the base of Wade’s cock tightly.He knew Wade liked it that way. Without preamble, he slipped the dick into himself, sinking down slowly. A loud groan rang through the room.
“Holy fuccckkk, baby boy.”
Peter sent an innocent grin his way and then began to move in earnest, bouncing up and down, setting a fast rhythm straight from the start. He could feel Wade twitching underneath him, trying to fuck into him, but he pinned his hips down with one strong hand. They would follow his pace and his pace only.
He switched tempo any time he got tired, hitting the right spots either way. He’d go quick and hard for a while, feeling Wade deep inside him, and then slow down to a torturous grind, enjoying every inch of Wade stretching him bit by bit. Heat was building inside him, the wave coming closer and closer, it wouldn’t take much now.
Peter bent down, pressing his sweaty chest against Wade’s and burying his head in the crook of his neck. A whine escaped him with every bounce of his hips. One of Wade’s hands wandered between them, jerking Peter off with rough movements.
With a long moan, he pressed his hips down, burying Wade’s dick inside of him with force. He was biting down on his lip, hard, as he came, his cum spraying between them, covering their torsos. Wade seemed to be on the same page. Peter had barely made it through the aftershocks as Wade was pulling out and flipping them around, cumming on Peter’s chest.
For a moment, they were just laying there, trying to catch their breath. The remnants of the orgasm were still pulsing through Peter, but he knew in just a few minutes the pleasant sleepiness would envelop him. He let out a long sigh.
“Thanks Wade. I needed that.”
“Anytime, baby boy,” Wade replied with a chuckle. “No, seriously, a-n-y time.”
Peter gave a lazy chuckle back. Then he rolled over and grabbed a pack of tissues from the floor. As he wiped away the mess on his chest, he threw a couple tissues over to Wade.
“There. I’m gonna sleep now. See ya around.” Peter said and got up, stumbling towards his bed. Wade took the tissues gratefully and nodded.
“I’ll need a couple minutes to clean up, but I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”
Peter just grunted and let himself fall back into the mattress. They were never really the ones to stick around afterwards. But by now they had done this enough to handle it with minimal awkwardness. He listened to Deadpool’s rustling as he got himself dressed, eyes falling closed already. Then there was an unusual moment of quiet. Wade seemed to be done, but was hesitating to leave. Peter turned towards him, sending an inquisitive eyebrow raise while barely opening his eyes. Wade shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“Uh.. Just.. If you wanna do the fighting thing with me again, I’d be down for that too, you know. I know those assholes deserved it, but if you want to scratch that itch again, you can call me up. Whatever you need really…” Wade trailed off.
Peter shifted on the bed. He was surprised, but really he shouldn’t have been. Wade always was incredibly perceptive. And while neither of them were the type to lay these things out in the open freely, they understood each other in a way. Peter smiled.
“Wade… Thank you. For lots of things.” He stretched out his arm and gave Wade’s gloved hand a quick squeeze. It felt vulnerable like this, Peter naked in bed and Wade in his suit. But he felt safe nonetheless. Even more, he felt seen.
As Wade slipped into the darkness, Peter could feel the smile lingering on his face. Probably the first genuine one of the day.