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They were friends, nothing more.
They were buddies who hung out and sometimes fell asleep on the same couch or held hands or cuddled, but it was all platonic.
To be honest, Peter never really thought that he could ever trust his identity with anyone. He thought he would be forever separating Peter Benjamin Parker from Spider-Man, living two separate lives with everyone. That shit was exhausting, and the only time he could ever have his mask off was when he was alone with Tony or hanging out on a rooftop where no one could see him. Until Deadpool started hanging out with him, obviously.
When DP started clinging to Peter like mold to bread, it was aggravating at first. He wouldn't stop fucking interrupting his patrols, getting in the way of a rescue, and once or twice he even shot someone down that Peter had intended to bring into the police station.
(Pool had gotten a smack to the head and a good chewing-out after those times.)
But as they grew closer and Peter found himself actually laughing at Pool's jokes and enjoying his company- even found himself not minding the incessant flirting- trust started to build. Pool- Wade- had trusted Peter with his actual name and face long before Peter had even considered it, but he never once pressured him to take off his mask or reveal anything about his personal life. Wade understood Peter's need for anonymity. Even when Peter revealed his name, Wade only ever called him one of his various nicknames for "Spider-Man" while he was suited up.
Eventually, in a fit of recklessness and a subconscious need to make Wade feel less alone in his being unmasked, Peter silently and casually took off his mask fully while eating tacos with the merc instead of rolling it up to his nose like usual. After a couple minutes, he sensed Wade staring at him, and turned.
"Yes?"
"Holy fuckballs, Webs, you never told me you had a cute face to go with the bangin' ass!" Wade's mouth hung open like a ventriloquist dummy. Peter rolled his eyes.
"Eat your burrito, Wilson."
After that, the flirting had only gotten worse, but Peter found that he didn't actually mind all that much. He reached a point of comfort with Wade that he would just swing into the merc's apartment, yank off his mask, and hang out there whether or not the owner of the place was actually home. Wade had come home more than once to Peter, on his couch, eating his Doritos.
And that was kind of one of his favorite places to be. Eating Wade's Doritos, on Wade's couch, with his head pillowed on Wade's lap.
"Can we please turn this off," Wade complained.
"Shut up," Peter said around his mouthful of Doritos. Nailed It! was his favorite show, and he couldn't afford streaming services, so he always watched it at Wade's place.
"It's my TV."
"You say that like it matters," Peter snarked, turning up the volume.
"Please. I have all the streaming services out there. We can watch something tasteful."
"I'll show you tasteful if you don't shut your trap," Peter responded easily, throwing a Dorito at Wade's head.
"Is that a promise?" Wade asked.
"Be quiet."
"Petey-Pie, if you're offering..." The merc combed his fingers through Peter's curls.
"Be. Quiet."
Later, in his own shitty apartment, Peter thought about Wade's heavy hands on his head, tugging the strands of his hair lightly. It felt nice, and with a jolt, he realized he wanted to feel it again.
He experimentally ran his hands through his own hair, but his fingers were too slender and didn't feel the same at all.
"I'm just touch-starved," he told himself.
And then he went to bed.
The next day wasn't a patrol day, so he didn't expect to see Wade. While he was sitting on the toilet, doing his T shot, though, a knock came on the bathroom door.
"You poopin'?" asked Wade from the other side of the door.
"Not pooping. Come in," Peter called, measuring out his dose.
The merc slipped into the tiny bathroom and plunked himself onto the edge of the tub, directly across from Peter.
"What're you doin', Petey?"
"T shot," Peter grunted, changing out the needles. "Put this in the blue bin under the sink." He handed Wade the needle, and he popped it in the sharps bin, as instructed.
"Sick, can I watch?" Wade asked.
"Whatever gets your rocks off, I guess," Peter shrugged, snapping on the injection needle and tapping out the air bubbles.
"I just think it's cool. Your boy juice!" Wade exclaimed gleefully, clearly very pleased with himself.
"...Sure. Boy juice."
And right now, they were in Peter's apartment, on his shitty couch, watching Youtube on his equally shitty TV. Wade had put on some fucking stupid compilation of memes, and when the infamous "kissing the homies goodnight" meme came on, he pointed at the screen and said, "That could be us, but you always playin'."
When Wade left, Peter couldn't stop thinking about what he said. His chest felt strangely warm, and his face was hot, and Wade's face when he smiled kept flashing into his head. The way his cheeks rounded when he's grinning, his jawline that could cut through glass like butter. His eyes that glittered when he was making a dirty joke.
A heat stirred between his legs, and Peter bit his lip. He wriggled under his blankets and shucked off his boxers, reading down to trace his fingers over his clit. Even a light touch sent volts of electricity shooting up his spine, and he groaned into his pillow. His brow furrowed as he rubbed circles into his clit, dipping his fingers into his cunt with his other hand. He was so fucking wet, and before he could really convince himself not to, he was imagining Wade's rough hands traveling over his body.
"Fuck," Peter moaned, fucking his fingers into himself and pressing harder onto his clit. He wanted so badly for it to be Wade touching him, for Wade's thick fingers to be breaching his body and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves that had Peter so close already.
All it took was imagining Wade saying, "come on, baby, my good boy," and Peter was shuddering through his orgasm, panting and tossing his head back, exposing the long column of his throat to the man that wasn't really there.
After, shamefully, he washed his hands and told himself never again, never again.
Wade was his best friend, for fuck's sake. Who jacks off to their best friend? Crazy people.
Peter would never be telling Wade about this, ever.
The next day, they were hanging out at Wade's. Another day of no patrol, because Wade insisted that Peter needed a "rest day" after doing nothing but patrol for two weeks straight.
"I had a rest day. Yesterday."
"One rest day per week. Two weeks equals two rest days."
Wade was smoking a cigarette- herbal, because Peter wouldn't stop complaining about the smell of the tobacco ones- and Peter couldn't stop staring at his mouth. The way the smoke curled out from his lips and into the air was mesmerizing, and he didn't even realize he was staring until Wade caught him.
"What, you want a kiss?" He smirked. Peter stiffened.
"Don't," he forced out.
"Don't...?" Wade repeated, cocking an eyebrow. To his credit, he looked confused. Peter had never said anything about his flirting, until now.
"Don't say that if you don't mean it. Okay?"
A pregnant pause.
"You think I don't mean it?"
"Well how am I supposed to know?" Peter demanded, wrapping his arms around himself and looking away.
"Pete, look at me. Please." He looked back at the merc, who ground out his cigarette and leaned towards him. "You really think I'm not serious when I flirt with you?"
"I mean. No."
"Have you fucking seen yourself?" Wade sounded absolutely gobsmacked. "You're like a fucking modern-day Adonis. You're fucking beautiful, and I've liked you for, like, a year."
"A year?" Peter yelled. "What the fuck, Wade?"
"Why are you mad?" Wade demanded.
"I'm not."
"You sound mad."
"I'm not. I'm freaking out."
"Stop freaking out. Listen, you can freak out later, okay?" Wade said, raising his hands in surrender. "But right now I'd just really like to kiss you."
"Fuck you, we're talking about this later," Peter grunted. And then he lunged forward to press his mouth to Wade's.
Immediately, the merc was pulling Peter in by the waist, damn near in his lap, kissing him with a ferociousness that was almost violent. He relished in it, moaning into the older man's mouth when he gripped his thighs, pulling him all the way into his lap. Before he could stop himself, Peter was already grinding down onto Wade's growing erection.
"Fuck, Peter," Wade whispered against the spider's jaw. Peter arched his back and pressed himself down harder, chasing stimulation with a desperation that was almost foreign. He had never, never been this wet this fast with any other hookup.
"Wade, please," Peter groaned. Faster than he could blink, Wade was standing, bringing Peter up with him. He wrapped his legs around the merc's waist, sucking a dark hickey into his neck. He knew with Wade's healing factor, it wouldn't last long, but even the thought of briefly marking him had him whining, low in the back of his throat. And then Wade was dumping him on the bed, caging him in with his arms and pressing one muscled thigh up between Peter's legs. Even through his sweatpants, the pressure on his clit had a groaned "Wade-" bubbling up in his throat and his head thrown back.
Wade quickly stripped both of them of their clothes, taking a position between Peter's thighs and nipping at the soft flesh adjacent to his crotch. Peter's fingernails scrabbled over his scarred scalp.
"Wade, please, don't tease-"
"Shhh, baby boy," Wade purred, kissing the junction where his thigh met his hip. "Patience is a virtue."
"A virtue that I don't- ah-" Peter's protests were cut off as Wade suddenly pressed his mouth to his clit, licking a long stripe over the swollen bud. Immediately, he was burying his face into Peter's crotch, enthusiastically licking and sucking at all the right places. "Fucking- shit! Ah- Wade-" Liquid heat splashed its way through every limb Peter had, making his eyes roll up in his head. He was shamelessly grinding back into Wade's face, and it felt so fucking good that already he felt an orgasm rising up in his belly.
"Baby, I could do this all day," Wade groaned, slipping two fingers into Peter's cunt and curling them up, making him jolt and wail. The sound of his fingers moving inside of Peter was obscene. "You're so fucking wet for me..." And he buried his face again in his crotch, furiously moving his tongue over his clit in such a way that broken moans tumbling out of Peter's mouth like a fucking waterfall.
"Wade- Wade I'm so close- please!" And suddenly the hardest orgasm Peter has ever had in his life was taking over his body, his thighs snapping shut around Wade's head and his spine stiffening, the pouring heat in his groin giving over to a series of moans forcing their way out of his lungs.
Wade sat up, slick dripping down his face, grinning wildly as Peter panted below him.
"Wade," he whined, shakily reaching down to grasp the merc's cock. Instantly, a groan escaped Wade's lips and he thrusted into Peter's hand.
"Shit," he grunted.
"Wade," Peter repeated. "Are you going to fuck me or not?"
"Petey- ah-" Wade groaned as Peter dragged his fingers through his own cunt and used his slick to stroke Wade's cock. "Thought you might need a second."
"If you don't- get in me soon," Peter gasped, "- I'm going to kill you."
"Fuck, you're sexy, baby boy," Wade whispered, dragging his tongue up Peter's torso, sucking a hickey into the junction of his neck and shoulder. "Do you want me to get a condom? I'm clean."
"Jesus Christ, Wade, no," Peter gasped as the merc's fingers breached his body again, fingering him fast and hard. "Come on. Bare." One of his hands traced up Peter's forearm, and when his thumb brushed the soft indent just below his wrist, he jerked violently and moaned.
"What's this?" Wade gasped, bringing his head up to peer at Peter's arm.
"Spinnerets." Peter moaned and jerked again as Wade's thumb made another pass over the indent.
"What?"
"My- shit! -my webs come outta there. They're- sensitive- fuck!" Wade dragged his tongue over the spinneret in time with a particularly hard press to Peter's g-spot, and the spider spasmed and groaned. "Wade Wilson, if you don't fuck me I'm going to pin you to this bed and ride you until you beg me to stop." Wade groaned at his words and twitched a little bit.
"Christ a boat, Webs, you're going to be the death of me." And then there was warm, blunt pressure against his cunt, and then he was moaning as Wade's cock split him open.
He knew Wade was scarred everywhere, but this was nothing like anything he'd ever felt before. He could feel every bump and ridge as it slid into him, filling up his inside as he writhed and raked his nails down Wade's back.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Wade groaned, thrusting the rest of the way into Peter, his hips settling flush against his inner thighs.
"Move," Peter demanded, tossing his head back, exposing the long column of his throat. Without another word, Wade was rocking his weight back and forth into Peter's cunt, the sound of his slick shifting with the merc's cock echoing through the room like it was in high definition.
As he pounded into Peter, his thumb rubbed fast over his spinnerets, making Peter writhe and tears form at the corners of his eyes. His voice was starting to go hoarse with the sheer volume of which he was moaning. Wade leaned down to dig his teeth into the spider's neck.
"Fuck- harder-r-" Peter whined, rolling his hips to try and get Wade to fuck him deeper. Wade pulled out and slammed back in, scatting both Peter's thoughts and what felt like his organs. Every thrust was punctuated with a swear word from Peter and a grunt or groan or whine from both of them.
One of Wade's hands landed over Peter's throat and squeezed lightly, and fuck, he was slamming into him like a fucking freight train, hard and fast enough that the shitty IKEA bedframe was rattling and the spider's body was being slowly scooched up the bed. Peter was practically screaming, and it felt so fucking good, and his entire body felt like it was on fire.
"Gonna cum," he gasped, heat drawing up in his belly for the second time. "Fuck, Wade, touch me-" And the merc took his hand away from Peter's spinneret and started circling his clit in a delicious pressure that had Peter's eyes freeflowing with pleasured tears. Drool was trailing from the corner of his open mouth and his cheeks were shiny and his pupils were blown out as he kept his gaze firmly on Wade.
"You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me?" Wade grunted, almost taunting, thrusting deeper.
"Please," Peter whined, his body drawing up tight.
"My good boy," Wade whispered, pressing hard into Peter's clit, and he was gone.
Peter came with a wail, his back arching and fingernails digging rivets into Wade's shoulders, his insides rippling and squeezing around Wade's cock. His vision went white for a second, and he came to just in time to feel Wade shudder and twitch over him, the warm spurt inside him telltale.
Wade released Peter's throat and pulled out, observing his handiwork. Peter's chest was heaving, hickeys littering his neck and collarbone, with a few between his legs. His inner thighs were glistening with slick and cum, and his lips were bitten raw.
"Kiss me, please," Peter whispered. Wade leaned down and pressed their mouths together, easing his weight onto Peter, covering his body like a gloriously naked weighted blanket.
They both knew they'd have to talk about things at some point. But that would come later.