Archive of Our Own

“Ha…f-fuck…mm…” 

Firm hands crane Peter’s legs open as the length slicks in and out of him. 

“Right there, please, hah…” 

Peter feels himself buzzing as he sinks further into the sheets. The weight on top of him, deliciously grounding.

“You’re so good, please keep going, please—ngh.”

Peter vividly feels the texture of the cock inside him as it catches on every bump and ridge. He can hear the sinfulness of the act as his arousal builds. Every thrust drags him closer. 

Please.

And closer.

Yes, like that.

And closer.

I’m gonna—

Peter’s eyes snap open as he hears the front door slam against the wall. 

“I’m homeeeee!” Wade belts as he kicks his shoes off by the door. “I got us some snacks and drinks for our movie night! It’s your favorite!” 

Peter shoots up and removes his fingers from inside as carefully as he can while he looks around the room for where he threw his underwear. 

“Fuck me!” he curses to himself as he flips the covers, fingers still wet from a moment ago. He struggles to find his briefs, and he bets they’re wedged somewhere in between one of the hundred pillows. 

“I thought you were supposed to come back later tonight!” Peter yells to the other room, eternally grateful to himself that he at least had the foresight to kick his shorts off right in front of the bed. He checks his phone and sees that it’s only 7 PM. Three hours earlier than what he was told this morning.

Wade unzips his jacket as he walks to the kitchen to unpack the unreasonable amount of food he bought on a whim. “Yeah, I know. I finished early. Turns out, it’s not that hard to break into a penthouse these days. You just tell security, ‘Hi, I have a meeting with Mr. Asshole,’ and they’ll let you straight up!” 

Peter tries to make the bed as fast as he can and fumbles while trying to straighten out the comforter. He uh-huhs as he finishes making the bed and tiptoes to the door. He’s just about to reach for the handle when the loudest creak erupts from the floorboard.

Wade is putting their ice cream sandwiches in the freezer and pops his head up when a realization comes to him. He stills as he calls out, “Petey?”

Peter feels the air shift. He’s fucked. 

“Yeah?” He winces as he calls back, waiting for it.

Wade turns his head around, towards the bedroom. “Are you in my room?”

Peter cringes but responds anyway, “…No?” Nice save.

Wade shuts the freezer door and squints in confusion. “Uh…it kinda sounds like you are.”

—

Three months ago, Peter was coming home from work when he got a call from his landlord saying his apartment had flooded and that he couldn’t come back for some time. When Peter asked what “some time” meant, he was told it would take anywhere from a few weeks to a couple of months, but they weren’t sure. He was allowed to come and take what he could salvage, but he would have to find some other place to live in the meantime. 

Peter spent the rest of the train ride debating whether he should burden Aunt May or sleep on a rooftop and hope for the best when an idea came to him. Next thing he knew, he was at Wade’s doorstep with a couple of grocery bags worth of his belongings, asking if he would be able to stay there until they fixed his place.

Wade, a bit too excited, told him he could move in forever, to which Peter reiterated that it would only be a few months tops and that he would contribute to the rent to make up for it. Wade took the damp bags and said, “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” in an empathetic way that let Peter know his contribution wouldn’t necessarily contribute much to the bill. 

Suddenly, it had already been two weeks, and Peter was pretty well adjusted to his new way of life. Wade insisted on giving Peter the bedroom, but Peter refused, opting for sleeping on the couch instead. He felt that would be too much of an intrusion as well as a little more intimate than he could handle. That being said, life on the couch wasn’t that bad. Sure, it wasn’t the roomiest option, and he would wake up with a crick in a new place every morning, but he reassured himself that this was only temporary. 

It wasn’t until he had been there a month that he realized he hadn’t had a semblance of privacy since he moved in, and it was starting to get to him. The apartment was pretty big, but it didn’t have many doors or walls. The only rooms separated from the rest were the bedroom and bathroom, and since he naively gave up on sharing the bedroom, the only time he could be enclosed in a space by himself would be when he needed to clean himself or use the toilet. 

Which also means that he couldn’t masturbate. 

He never considered himself an especially horny individual, unlike his roommate. For a young adult man on testosterone who was bitten by a radioactive spider, he jerks off a pretty small amount. He usually just doesn’t have the time to, or he’s particularly stressed out about school or rent, so his libido is down, but it doesn’t really bother him. Nonetheless, wanting a little alone time now and then isn’t the most far-fetched.

He thought about doing it in the bathroom, maybe during a shower, but Wade’s room was only a wall away, and, from the many nights of hearing Wade laughing at millions of TikToks after 2 AM, Peter knew that it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. 

Once they had been living together for about two months, Peter started thinking about doing it when Wade left. It was then that he realized he never knew when Wade would be coming back. Some days, he’d been out for no more than a few minutes; others, he’d be gone the whole day. The thought of Peter being caught because he overestimated how long Wade would be gone, though, was enough to make Peter not want to take the gamble.

Throughout that time, Peter felt his sense of reality slipping away. As the third month approached, he found himself thinking about getting off all the time, and the man in the room over didn’t help to quell that issue. 

Two weeks ago, Wade was just leaving the shower when he started yapping to Peter about the beef happening between two pro slime reviewers on Twitter. Peter was walking back from the kitchen to ask what the difference between cloud slime and fluff slime was when he ran into Wade, who was only wearing a towel on his waist. 

Peter freezes only a few feet away from the man as he uses one of those ear-cleaning kits, arms flexing as he twists his wrist with one hand and rests the other on his hip. If Peter didn’t know better, he would assume time had stopped in that very moment, and the sun had suddenly risen to cast a ray of light just to illuminate Wade in all his glory. 

Peter knew Wade was built, obviously. But, damn. 

Wade looked fucking incredible. He was ripped head to toe and had a significant amount of inches on Peter. The nerve of someone sculpted so intimidatingly to be concerned about the backlash the slime community would receive baffled Peter. 

Wade was still wet, and Peter swore there was still steam coming off of him. Peter, silently locked in place, tried to bring himself back to Earth. He even felt a little drool pooling in his mouth before he swallowed thickly. He took a deep breath in and out. God, I’m a mess. 

As Peter got his bearings, Wade’s voice started to fade back in from the fog.

Wade, obliviously unaware, “-And that’s why Sarah should’ve stopped her business last year. All I’m saying is, if you’re not gonna at least give me a sticker with my order, then you better have some good slime,” he laughs as he finishes his rant.

Peter pulled his gaze from Wade’s chest and forced himself to make eye contact with the merc, which was a horrible mistake. He was immediately sucked into the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen.

Peter, with all his intellect and years of schooling, responds casually, “Uh-huh”.

Wade began to bob his head slowly in confusion. “Are you alright there, baby boy?”

The question made Peter blink out of his trance. He tears his eyes away. “Yeah!” He turns away and walks back to the kitchen before he can embarrass himself any further. 

“Okay…” Wade remarked in confusion before he shrugged it off and walked back to his room, leaving Peter to obliterate an entire box of ice cream sandwiches as a distraction. 

That instance spiraled into Peter constantly praying that his landlord would call him any day now, freeing him from the torture of being forced into abstinence as he lived with a sexy maniac. 

Today was Peter’s breaking point, though. He had been exhausted from work and still couldn’t sleep a wink last night. He wondered if he could actually go through withdrawal for something like this, or if living with a man who’s so openly—effortlessly, so effortlessly—sexual could be deluding him into some kind of weird placebo where he only thought he was hornier than he actually was. 

He spent all morning pondering this before seeing Wade, shirtless…again, come out of his room to grab some water from the fridge. Peter doesn’t have any strength. 

Wade waved to Peter as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Good morning,” he yawned.

Peter shamelessly stared as Wade entered the kitchen, unaware of his guest’s turmoil.

He watched as Wade stretched exquisitely before reaching for the handle. He gently took the first bottle he saw off the shelf and twisted the cap open, with a practiced ease that should not have caught Peter as much as it did. Peter followed Wade’s movements with an inappropriate amount of awe as the man downed the bottle, not paying Peter any mind. 

Peter never thought that watching a 6-foot-whatever unit of a man chugging a bottle of Deer Park could get him wet at 7 AM, but there he was, fighting to quell the full-body shiver threatening to take him over.

Wade finished with a comically dramatic sigh, “Ah! Nothing like it,” as he reminisced. 

Wade turned to Peter, and his face immediately filled with worry. “How long’ve you been up, Petey-pie?”

Peter continued to stare, unblinking, too tired to compose himself. “I didn’t go to sleep.”

Wade frowned, “It’s that couch, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “I know you said you didn’t care and wanted to sleep out here, but you can take the bed today,” he graciously offered. 

Peter, stubborn and unwilling to overstep, shook his head no. 

Wade huffed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re torturing yourself, man,” he chastised. 

Peter traced every bump of muscle in Wade’s arm as he sat unamused. “It’s fine,” he mumbled.

Wade left the kitchen shortly after and told Peter he’d be back at 10 on his way out the door. He also told Peter not to miss him too much, but Peter disregarded the statement and its impossibility. 

He tried to do everything to stay up, hoping that by the time night came, he’d be so tired that the couch cushions would feel like clouds and he could get some sleep. He didn’t have to clock in today, so he would get up periodically and move around, eat something, watch something, just do whatever for as long as he could. It seemed to be going well until 12 PM hit. 

He walked over to Wade’s bedroom, reluctantly. The bedding looked so warm and soft. He could picture it now, him sprawled out and snoring as he fell further and further into his dreams. 

He blinked, and it was 6:30. He was wrapped under a layer of blankets and surrounded by a mountain of pillows. He lay there for a moment, relaxing for what felt like the first time in months, when he got an idea. 

He realized he was in the room, no, the apartment, completely alone. Should I…? 

He began to ache at the idea. He thought about how long it’s been since he was able to have some one-on-one fun and when the next time he’d have a chance like this would be. 

If he weren’t so desperate, he’d think about the moral grey of fucking yourself on your friend's bed when he let you stay in his house and eat all of his ice cream sandwiches. But alas, he reached for and tossed his bottoms off without much debate and timidly pressed his middle finger onto his clit. 

He sighed at the contact. It felt so much more sensitive than what he remembered. He started to rub small circles on it and moaned. The sound scared him before he remembered that Wade wouldn’t be back any time soon. Then, another thought crossed his mind. 

Wade.

His waist, his back, his arms, his eyes. All of it flashed through Peter’s mind, and he started to get lost in it. He dipped his finger into the entrance as he pictured Wade prepping him. Kissing his neck, touching him all over, pulling him apart, seam by seam. 

He added a second finger and sped up when he started thinking of how Wade would fuck him. 

Would he be gentle? Would he kiss him? Would he talk him through it?

Would he be rough? Would he call him names? Would he have him beg for it?

Would he do both? Would he do more?

Peter’s mind kept dissolving into different scenarios as he moved his fingers faster. He got lost in one particular idea, though. 

Wade would come home, exhausted from whatever he was doing. He’d see Peter lying in his bed, and he’d tell Peter that he had changed his mind; that he would appreciate it if Peter contributed around the apartment. 

He’d tell Peter that he noticed how pent up the younger man had been for a while now and that he could help. 

Then, Peter would somehow end up getting the daylights fucked out of him as the dawn broke. 

Just as he was getting so close to reaching that beautiful peak, the rug was suddenly pulled from under him.

—

Peter closes his eyes and accepts that he’s been caught. He opens the door and walks into the hallway, still hesitant to round the corner and face Wade.

He pauses just before he comes into view. He doesn’t remember finding his underwear when he was fixing the pillows. Which means they’re still in there. 

Just as Peter is planning the quickest route to a window he can crawl out of, Wade appears in front of him. 

Wade looks at Peter expectantly, “…So…”

“I’m sorry,” Peter blurts out as he continues to panic.

Wade shifts from confusion to worry. “Whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, you’re welcome in my bed any time,” he finished with a wink as he looked down at the hero in front of him. Peter hates how much that sentence soothes and riles him. 

Peter avoids Wade’s eyes. “Thanks…”

Wade notes the suspicious vibe Peter is giving off and laughs, “You’re acting like you got caught with your pants around your ankles! I swear, it’s fine”.

Peter shoots his head back up to Wade at the analogy. 

His panic grows into full-on paranoia. Does he know? No. How would he know? Are there cameras? No, he wouldn’t be so normal about this if he knew!

Wade examines the man in front of him and gets a feeling that he should continue to pry. “What were you doing in there?” he questions with an accusing look. 

There’s no way he knows! Relax.

“Nothing!” Peter says way too quickly. 

“Nothing?” Wade repeats.

“Nothing,” Peter attempts to redeem himself with a calmer response. 

Wade nods his head, not believing him for a second. “For someone who did ‘nothing’, you’re actin’ realllll suspicious,” he leans in slightly, and Peter backs up and shakes his head no.

Now Wade absolutely knows something’s up. He takes small steps towards Peter as he continues his interrogation, and Peter matches with small steps back. 

“Did you look through my drawers?”

“No, of course not!” Peter is almost offended by the question until he realizes that what he did is arguably on the same level of boundary-crossing, if not further. 

Wade continues. “Hm. Did you do something to my room?” 

“No,” Peter says too fast again. I’m so bad at this.

The reaction pauses Wade, and he tilts his head a little. “What did you do in my room, Petey?” 

Peter is almost at the scene of the crime. He swallows. “Nothing, Wade.”

“Oooo,” Wade narrows his eyes as he resumes his advance.

“What?” Peter can hear his heartbeat in his skull.

“You only call me Wade when you’ve done something bad, baby boy,” Wade smiles. 

“No, I don’t.” Peter denies the tell.

Wade sighs, “Yeah, ya do”.

He stops right in front of Peter. Wade is just staring down at him, like this is some game. Peter feels himself drawing in air quicker as he’s pulled back into those fucking magical orbs on Wade’s face. Peter’s own eyes widen, and he gasps at the sudden contact as Wade holds his waist and moves past him to enter the room. Peter follows Wade inside after he comes back to life. 

Wade begins to look around the room. “Alright. Where is it?” He inspects the closet, then the drawers, then his nightstand. 

“Where’s what?” Peter asks as he scans the bed from the doorway.

“The evidence.” Wade pauses to dart his attention around the room. “You had to leave something. That’s why you’re acting weird, right?” Wade stops to look back at Peter and notices that he’s staring at the bedding. He shifts his gaze between the two and redirects his attention to the comforter. 

Peter watches in horror as Wade blindly feels around the bed until he focuses on a specific area of the bedding. Wade brings his face closer.

There’s no way. Peter attempts to reason the unreasonable.

“Peter,” Wade starts.

“Yeah?” Peter looks at Wade surveying the fabric as he realizes what he’s seeing.

Wade points to the spot with his free hand. “Is that cum?”

“Huh,” Peter says, stupefied. He’s absolutely fucked. 

Wade turns to Peter, then back to the obvious cum stain. “Is that cum?” he repeats.

The dark-colored sheets have a half-dried swipe of something clearly visible on the surface. Peter can’t believe that this is his life. 

“I…No! Why would there be cum on your sheets?” he shrugs as he proposes to get ahead of the ball.

Wade pulls him back behind it. “See, I would’ve asked that,” Wade continues to stare at the stain and pulls Peter’s underwear from between the mattress and the headboard, “if I didn’t find these like two seconds ago”. 

Peter nods his head as he finally gives up. He sucks his teeth. “Yeah. Right.”

Wade mimics as he stands. “Yeah. Right.” 

He looks at Peter and motions for him to sit on the bed he made. Peter walks over with his head down. He sits down timidly with his hands in his lap as he slowly lifts his head, still looking at the ground past Wade.

Wade crosses his arms and stands in front of Peter as he plays up the disappointed-dad tone, and Peter is very disappointed at how hot he thinks this is. 

“Are you gonna explain yourself, young man?” 

Peter still refuses direct eye contact with Wade as he begins. He mumbles, “I’m sorry for…masturbating…in your bed”. He basically whispers the word. 

“You’re gonna need to speak louder than that, sweetheart.” Wade taps a finger on his bicep, and all Peter can think about is how he couldn’t finish.

Having Wade look down at Peter and force him to admit to what he did is making him feel a level of embarrassment that he’s never felt before. 

He squeezes his legs together as he feels the blush flood his body. He tries to speak louder, still staring at the floorboards. “I’m sorry I…masturbatedinyourbed.” 

Wade suddenly squats down and catches Peter’s gaze.

He has this crazed twinkle in his eyes as he grins up at the perv in front of him. “You did what?” 

Peter can’t look away this time. Peter sighs and then warily says, “I masturbated in your bed”. 

He searched for a change in Wade’s demeanor and noticed his expression break slightly. Wade vulgarly repeats, “You were fucking yourself in my bed?” His breathing is a bit uneven, Peter notices as Wade’s chest rises and falls.

Peter’s breathing matches as he looks down at Wade, now kneeling. “Y-yes.”

Wade put his hands on the edge of the bed at either side of Peter’s knees and leaned upward, shrinking the distance between their faces. He keeps Peter’s gaze and blinks up at him like he just knows. Peter feels like Wade sees right through him. 

“Did you finish?”

Peter’s heart skips as he becomes aware of the fact that their lips are only inches apart. Peter thinks about how close he was, and he feels the heat rising in him. He thinks about the Wade he pictured. Would he make him beg for it? 

Peter swallows before he responds. He shakes his head no ever so slightly as he leans back. “…No.” Peter braces himself on the bed.

Wade follows Peter backward and looks him up and down with an unmistakable craving. “Do you want to?”

Wade is now standing, hovering over Peter with his hands placed on the outside of Peter’s, daring him to be honest. Peter’s eyes flicker between Wade’s eyes, and he feels his knees being pried apart as Wade snakes one of his legs between them. 

Wade waits for Peter as they sit in silence, their faces still impossibly close. Peter thinks about the amount of unknowns with something like this. What would Wade do if he said yes? He thinks of Wade in his fantasy, all the different sides of Wade in the real world. 

He wants all of it so much that it hurts. 

He carefully bobs his head and whispers, “Yes”. 

Wade brings his hand to cup one side of Peter’s face. He parts his lips and ghosts them over Peter’s. Peter wonders what he’s doing until he realizes. 

Of course, Wade would make him beg for it. 

Peter hesitates for only a second more before he closes the gap, still holding onto the sheets under him. He and Wade groan at the contact. Peter feels his body buzz with everything he’s held onto for the past two months as their mouths slot together. 

Peter is the first to introduce the tongue, and Wade responds with fervor. Wade redirects his free hand to Peter’s waist and guides the hand he has on Peter’s cheek to the man’s hair and grips. 

Peter breaks the kiss with a sharp exhale, and Wade takes the opportunity to kiss and suck on Peter’s neck. “Wade…” Peter says in an airy moan.

Wade tugs Peter’s hair, effectively moving his head, and giving Wade better access to continue his assault on Peter’s neck. He’s rough. Peter moans at the action. 

Wade leaves a kiss on the corner of Peter’s jaw before he sits up. Peter is displeased at the loss of warmth and opens his eyes to see the reason. 

He’s met with the awing sight of Wade pulling his shirt off and readying to do the same to his pants when he notices Peter staring. 

Wade pauses, his thumbs hooked into the band. “Like what you see, baby boy?” he says half-jokingly. 

Wade’s pose makes him look like he was ripped straight out of some old school porn magazine. To make matters better, Peter has an uninterrupted view of the print of Wade’s hardened cock and fuck. 

Peter is attempting to memorize every bump of Wade’s abs and the angle of his V-line when Wade begins to drag his thumbs down, drawing his boxers and pants down further and further. He watches the desperation in Peter’s eyes. 

He stops just before the shaft is visible. “How long has it been?” Wade asks, still keeping the band taut against him.

Peter keeps staring, practically drooling. Dazed, “Since what?”

Wade twitches at seeing how much he’s affecting Peter. “Since you had some you time.”

Peter squeezes the sheet and huffs with impatience. He whines slightly, “T-three months”.

Wade offers a pout. “Aww, you poor thing…” he teases and gets close to Peter again. Peter’s space becomes Wade’s as he’s forced back into those eyes. 

Wade reaches for Peter’s shorts. “Since we both know you’re commando under there,” Wade pops the band and continues, “you wanna take these off or should I?” 

Peter can’t make himself move at the moment. He’s panting with anticipation, too shy to do it himself. Too scared to admit that he wants Wade to do it for him. 

Wade reads him like a book and grabs the bottom of Peter’s shirt and pulls it off as he smiles. “You know, Webs, for someone who just jerked off in my bed and stared at my dick for two minutes,” he helps take off Peter’s shorts, “you get embarrassed real easy, hm?”

Peter quickly curls his legs back onto the bed as soon as Wade is finished. He feels the cold air waft against his wetness. He feels exposed in so many ways with Wade observing him. 

Peter’s eyes go glassy and flutter as he answers. “…Yes.”

Peter feels like every question he answers digs him deeper and deeper into this weird (good?) space that’s been fuzzing his brain. 

The shame running through him is overwhelming. Every word Wade says pierces him. He feels himself twitching. He needs Wade.

Wade’s eyes narrow. “You like this.” He’s almost surprised.

Peter’s eyes widen. He’s been caught…again.

Wade laughs incredulously. “Who woulda thought?” Wade remarks.

Peter can’t hold it anymore.

“Please,” Peter throws caution to the wind as he finally breaks.

“‘Please’ what?” Wade smirks at the man under him.

Peter shifts uncomfortably as he’s filled with more want than he’s ever experienced. “Please fuck me.”

Wade grins at the display. He stands straight and orders Peter. “Open your legs.”

Peter shakes past his timidness and cranes his thighs apart without much hesitation.

Wade rewards Peter by sliding his pants down the rest of the way. 

Peter hopes the way he twitches isn’t as noticeable as he fears it is. 

Wade’s cock springs free, and he steps past the garments, back to Peter.

He positions himself between Peter’s legs again and pulls Peter into another kiss as his tip kisses Peter’s entrance. 

Peter moans at Wade being on him again, at the idea of being filled, and bucks a little. He’s going to explode soon if Wade doesn’t get inside h-

Wade breaks the kiss and sighs. “You’re so impatient, baby.” 

The stretch catches Peter off guard, and Wade resumes nibbling at his neck and ear as he inches further inside Peter. 

“Hah…” Peter finally understands what people mean when they say they can feel it in their throat. He clenches around the length and pants as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“You really missed me, huh?” Wade purrs into Peter’s ear. 

Peter’s breath hitches. “Yes.”

Wade sighs and thrusts himself the rest of the way. 

Peter throws his head back at the sudden movement. “Fuck!”

Wade lifts his head to study the man under him. “Mmm.”

The pain quickly subsides, or maybe he likes the pain? Peter can’t tell anymore, but he does know that having all of Wade inside him feels really fucking good.

Peter's head lolls to the side as he closes his eyes and gives a soft roll of his hips. Wade is loving every second of this impossible situation. He rewards Peter with a full-body thrust that sends lightning through him. 

“Yes!” Peter cries as he tries to chase the electricity. 

Wade does the same motion, not taking his eyes off Peter. He wants to remember every detail of the time he broke Peter Parker. 

Peter is too focused on meeting Wade’s thrusts to open his eyes and notice how much he’s affecting the man atop him. The sight of Peter holding onto the same sheets he fucked himself on moments earlier as he slides himself on and off Wade’s cock is…wow. 

Wade holds Peter’s hips to help him. Peter is dissolved into a cacophony of pathetic noises. 

“You can’t do this without me ever again, baby boy,” Wade says as he feels every curve and bump suckle around him. 

Peter opens his eyes as he shakes his head no. He whimpers, “I can’t, ngh. I can’t”. He finally looks Wade in the eye, and all sense he had is officially gone. His waterline is full, and his pupils are completely blacked out as he ah-ah-ahs on Wade.

Wade sucks in a breath. Peter is gonna be the death of him. 

Wade fucks into him deeper. Peter’s arousal pools around the shaft, and the noises it makes are sinful. The wet sound of their hips meeting, the bedframe hitting the wall, the small pants coming from Wade, Peter telling Wade how much he loves his dick. 

“I…love it…so m-much, Wade. I’m sor-rry, agh, for—” He tries to apologize for jerking off in his bed, but Wade sifts himself slightly, and Peter loses it. 

Peter tears through the sheet under him and cries as Wade hits his spot over and over. His arousal builds faster and faster. 

“Please, yes, please, agh,” Peter whines as he’s rushed with chills. 

Wade keeps pace. “You got this, baby.” He continues to thrust into Peter just the right way. “Let it out.”

He pushed Peter over the edge as he cums. Peter rips through the mattress as well and uses the leverage to rock into Wade. 

Pleasure washes over him, and he is in absolute bliss.

He brings himself to a slow after he’s hit his peak. 

Wade matches Peter’s pace but doesn’t stop. “Just a little longer, love.”

Peter moans weakly as he pushes through the overstimulation, his head still fuzzy and light. 

He feels Wade twitch after a few thrusts, and he opens his eyes again—he didn’t realize he closed them. 

Wade had still been watching him. Peter offers a soft smile through his exhaustion and feels Wade spill over. 

“Shit,” Wade hisses as he fucks it into Peter and rides it out. 

Peter revels in the feeling as it sends another wave of chills down his body. He bites his lip and hums. 

He doubts he’ll have much more alone time in the future.