Chapter Text
Hell.
That’s what Peter’s life was.
Hell.
No ‘on wheels.’
No ‘highway to.’
And, definitely absent of ‘hand baskets’.
Just hell.
He growled as he swung from building to building, snapping out webs and throwing himself violently into each swinging arc.
Today had been an unqualified disaster.
Okay… he and Wade had managed to stop some pretty horrible people who were doing some pretty horrible things.
But, still.
Peter wasn’t about to let facts ruin his bad mood. Disaster. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.
They’d been engaged in their favorite… *ahem*… rooftop pastime. Because, as Wade pointed out, if they were going to be stuck on reconnaissance, they might ass well enjoy it.
Unfortunately, their amusement had ended in:
1) A hasty orgasm (Wade) because he quite literally got off on danger.
2) Ferocious blue balls (Peter), because the criminals they’d been after were inconsiderate lawbreakers who weren’t about to pause their nefarious activities long enough for him to get off and get his breath back.
3) A truly awful amount of blood, because…well…Wade had been pretty offended on his behalf.
It was sweet.
But, also kind of revolting.
And then, one of the bad guys had triggered an explosion in the building where they had been pursing their unlawful business and incidentally blown Wade across a room full of heavy machining equipment that took his leg off.
So, that meant even more blood.
What would have been a medical crisis for anyone else was just a mess and a painful, temporary imposition for Wade.
With a side order of gagging (not the fun kind) and swallowing back the bile that crept up his throat for Peter.
Peter had gotten Wade back to a safe house. Together they’d managed to fix the severed limb back in place, held by an aligning brace Peter had long ago made for his friend. Back before Wade had started lurking around Peter’s turf, intruding on Peter’s patrols and generally making Peter take an interest in his life, he’d used to use abandon detached body parts and simply regrow whatever had been removed. Then, Peter had pointed out how dangerous it was for Wade to leave his genetic material around for anyone to find. After that, they’d taken to depositing the…er…parts, when they couldn’t be reattached, at a crematorium run by one of Wade and Vanessa’s more law-abiding acquaintances.
The whole thing left Peter feeling more than a little nauseous, and Wade in absolutely no condition to continue their tête-à-tête. So, he’d set his friend up in front of the crummy television and run out to procure him a pile of snacks. Wade had brushed off Peter’s offer to help him clean up, but still demanded a goodbye kiss in spite of the mess.
Peter had given him the kiss—with genuine feeling (and genuinely trying not to look at or smell the mess)—before heading back out into the night.
.oOo.
So, Peter swung back to Avengers Tower feeling like hell.
It was late; well after 1am Karen informed him. He was simultaneously starving and on the brink of digestive revolt. He was also so grossed-out that certain of his endowments appeared to have shrunk to nothing while at the same time feeling distractingly horny for something to soothe the tingling heat in…well, other assets.
Peter stopped a mile away from the Tower, put his mask on mute and screamed as loudly as he could until he felt better.
Well, marginally better.
He entered the facility from the landing platform, skirting the Quinjet and passing by the launch door for the Iron Legionnaires and the lifts for Tony’s and Rhodey’s suits. Tony mostly wore his nanite suit these days, but he had other, single-unit suits that still required the lifts even if the old suit-up gantry had been disassembled when he’d finally retired all the component-assembling armour after last year’s accident.
Peter made his way to the communal kitchen without bothering to take off more than his mask. The refrigerator was well-stocked, as usual, even though the Avengers were only infrequently in residence in New York City. Most of their time between missions was spent at the Compound upstate. Only Tony and Bruce, who were off the active-duty rosters, were regularly in the city. Still, FRIDAY saw to it that anyone who was here was well cared for. Grabbing a pair of pre-made meals, Peter heated them up and then sat on a couch with a view of the city and ate them, one after the other, off a tray on his lap.
These days, Peter spent almost all his nights at Avengers Tower when he was home in NYC. He’d only had to run into Happy once when he went back to visit Aunt May before deciding that it was safer to sleep at the Tower. It was kind of weird, because technically Happy lived at the Tower and Peter lived with May. But, Peter knew May was rather overwhelmed by the whole Avengers thing. She deserved to be comfortable in her own home with her new partner.
It was a little inconvenient that all Peter’s possessions—the ones that weren’t in his and MJ’s and Ned’s apartment in Boston anyway—were still at May’s. He’d considered moving everything into the Tower, but he knew it would hurt May’s feelings. Plus, if his intuition was accurate, May and Happy would be figuring out new living arrangements soon enough. Either that juncture or his college graduation would be a better time to make the change.
.oOo.
The Tower was dark and strangely quiet. All the city noise was too far away and dampened by the building’s thick walls. Peter got up and cracked the sliding door to the balcony. Wind gusted through the gap, bringing in the scents of the city’s millions of inhabitants. From far below, he could hear the sounds of cars on the roads and the occasional siren.
He wished someone else was up and around to talk to. He could talk to FRIDAY, but as much as he liked the AI, Peter was craving human company. Even the food and the darkness and the sounds of his home weren’t enough to settle him down. While he no longer felt nauseous, his brain kept replaying the day’s activities—both pleasurable and problematic—and alternately aching and editorializing.
Briefly, he contemplated asking the AI to wake Tony. But, this thing between them was still so new. It felt inappropriate to pry his mentor…and now partner (the idea still made his brain seize)…out of his and his fiancée’s bed in order to ask for… well, not to put too fine a point on it, sexual satisfaction.
He could just hear himself explaining to Tony, “Yeah, so Wade has to re-grow a leg. And in the mean time, I’m feeling a little…pent up, you know…so, I was wondering if you could tag in…”
Alone in the dark, Peter cringed.
That left him with showering and trying to forget about it. Or getting himself off.
So, naturally, Peter headed for the Tower’s gym to beat his way through half a dozen heavy bags.