Chapter Text
PETER
My hands are on Deadpool’s shoulders and my brain is telling me to push the merc away but they are not cooperating. Instead, one hand slides to the back of his neck and squeezes. I can feel his pleased hum against my throat where his mouth is biting and sucking and licking at my neck while he pins me against a brick wall.
I’m not entirely sure how we got here but I don’t hate it. Except…
“Don’t leave a mark,” I groan as Deadpool gives my throat a particularly hard suck.
His laugh puffs out against my damp skin and I shiver.
“Come on, Webs,” he cajoles, nuzzling into my neck. “No one’ll see it.”
That’s only partially true. No one will see it right now because I’m Spider-man and Deadpool has pushed my mask up just enough that he can get his mouth on my neck. But someone will see it tomorrow when I have to be Peter Parker and— Wade’s big hand closes over my hip as he steps toward me, tucking himself tighter into my body, his thick thighs pressing against my own, and I suddenly don’t care about the mark on my neck at all.
I bite my lower lip to keep the whimpers that are building up in my throat from pouring out. Deadpool is holding me in place and rolling his hips into mine. I can feel the length of his cock through the spandex of my suit and the leather of his, slotting next to my own hard cock so that they drag against each other.
“Fuck you,” I whisper-hiss as he bites into the tendon at my neck and grinds against me.
“You might as well let all those little sounds out, baby boy,” Wade growls in my ear as he reaches down and hitches one of my legs around his hip, changing the angle that he’s rubbing against me into one that has me swallowing a whine. “He can hear us even when we’re whispering.”
“And yet that doesn’t ever seem to stop you.”
The voice is only a few feet away, hard and cold and irritated. Deadpool stops sucking my neck and collapses against me with a snort when he hears it. His big, warm body presses me hard into the wall as he shakes with laughter.
He turns his head, nudging my temple with his nose, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. “Told ya, sweet pea.”
“You two are absolutely disgusting.”
Deadpool straightens up and turns his head to look at Daredevil. “Homophobe much, Matthew?”
Daredevil scoffs but doesn’t dignify that with a response. At least not for Deadpool.
“I asked you to leave him at home.” This is directed at me and normally the tone would get my back up but I’m basking in the heat of Deadpool’s body and trying to talk my dick down. “I’d rather not listen to him try to get into your pants while we patrol the city.”
Deadpool pulls away, turning his whole body toward Daredevil, and I almost grab at the straps of his scabbards to pull him back. Yes, duty is important and all but Wade’s mouth is really, really talented. For much, much more than just talking.
“Jokes on you, big red. I already got into his pants. Don’t be jealous just because you missed your chance to climb aboard the Deadpool Express.”
Wade makes an annoying train whistle sound and lifts his arm next to his head, doing an up-and-down pump motion that’s meant to mimic… I don’t know what. I turn my head just in time to see the huge scowl that overtakes the lower half of Daredevil’s face. I asked him to wait for me on the roof but he seems hellbent on protecting me from Deadpool.
It’s a little late for that, I think.
It might have always been too late.
“Do you ever shut up?”
“Only when Spides has his dick in my mouth.” Deadpool looks at me over his shoulder as I right my mask, because now that Matt is scowling there’s no hope of more making out, and winks. “Ain’t that right, web slinger?”
That asshole.
Thank god for the mask because it’s obvious what he’s thinking about when he says “web slinger” like that and it turns my face bright pink. Then I remember that Matt can hear my heartbeat and the rate of my breathing, and I realize that the mask isn’t doing anything to hide my embarrassed arousal.
Goddamn Deadpool.
“Are you done?” Daredevil asks sharply.
“Awww, Matty.” Deadpool crosses his arms over his chest and grins at Daredevil, his mask still pushed up above his nose. “If we had finished, the moaning woulda been a lot louder.”
Daredevil leans to the side like he’s fixing his eyes on me around Deadpool’s body. “Can we get back to our job now?”
I smooth my hands down my suit and think about cold showers and baseball and differential equations to bring down my still-hard cock.
“Yes,” I finally say, walking past Deadpool who very loudly slaps my ass. Daredevil flinches and I turn to glare at Wade. He just winks back at me, his dimple on full display. Such an asshole. “We can get back to the job.”
The job, as it turns out, is finding all of the Taskmaster minions still lurking around New York. Apparently, there are a lot. Mercenaries-in-training that had the luck of being elsewhere when Deadpool went a little too aggro on Taskmaster’s warehouse. It fell to Matt and me because The Avengers are doing some outer space alien thing that I only half listened to when Steve called to brief me. The half-listening wasn’t my fault, either. Wade had been doing something to me with his tongue at the time.
So, for the last week, Daredevil and I have met up to track down the leftover mercenaries. Me webbing them up and hanging them for the police to find; Matt beating the shit out of them and leaving them for the police to find. And, occasionally, Deadpool pops out of the woodwork to get me hard while Matt tries not to listen in the background.
So maybe Daredevil has a point about the job but still… does he have to be such a cockblock about it?
I’m getting regularly laid for the first time in years and he insists on pulling me aside, repeatedly, to warn me against Deadpool. Like the guy is going to slip a knife between my ribs while he’s slipping me a little tongue. Pretty sure when Wade finally stabs me, it’s not going to be with a blade.
Fingers crossed.
“Let’s go, then.”
Daredevil jumps up, grabbing onto the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder before pulling himself onto the first landing and starting his ascent toward the roof. I leap onto the wall and climb after him only faltering for a second when I hear Deadpool shout behind me.
“Be careful, sweet pea. I want to be the only one leaving a mark on you tonight.”
I look over my shoulder as he strolls out of the alley, all broad shoulders and thick thighs and an ass I want to bite, and shout back, “I hate to see you go but I love to watch you walk away.”
He stops, turns around, and blows me a kiss. “See you at home, Shutterbug.”
“Can you please stop?” Daredevil growls from above me.
I start scaling the wall again, a smile overtaking my face under the mask. There’s a flutter in my stomach as I glance back over my shoulder once more, watching Deadpool stride around the corner.
But I’m probably just nervous about hunting down all these rogue mercs.
Right?
WADE
“He’s going to hate you,” I coo into my cupped hands. “It’s going to be great.”
<He’ll never have angry sex with you.>
[Too worried about what his strength will do.]
“I’m not aiming for angry sex.”
Except that I kind of am.
Don’t get me wrong. Sex with Shutterbug is hnngh. Like bite your knuckles, bite your tongue, bite the fucking pillow, constantly hard, come until you’re boneless, and then do it all over again good. And, for someone that just crossed the rainbow bridge, [That’s still not what that means.] he is gratifyingly eager. Like cockslut eager. And so fucking responsive. He practically—
[Can we focus, please?]
I look back down at my hands and the large metal trough in front of me. Right. Fresh omelettes. Push Webs’s buttons. Get him to ride my dick like he hates me.
Christ, I’m already half-hard just thinking about it.
<You’re always half-hard.>
“I thought you were leaving.”
<I was but then you started banging that bendy little nerd so I stuck around.>
“He is pretty bendy.”
The fluffy yellow chick in my hand peeps at me and I coo at it again, lowering my face so I can rub my jaw along her soft feathers. Maybe that’s unsanitary. I don’t know. I did the absolute bare minimum of research before bringing Blanche home. The other three chicks look up at me from the wood shavings spread across the bottom of the trough and peep, too.
“You little ladies are so cute.”
I put Blanche down carefully on the sawdust and then pick up each of the other chicks in turn, giving Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose a nuzzle, too. They’re all so fucking soft. People eat these things?
[Not the chicks.]
<Dumbass.>
After all the chicks are safely back in the trough, I double-check that they have enough food and water, then pop the wire mesh cover on and set the heat lamps over it.
“I can’t wait to make Shutterbug a delicious omelette with the eggs you four are going to make me.”
Okay.
Look.
I know the chicks aren’t going to be producing eggs right this second but I feel like positive vibes can only help in the long run. The power of having someone believe in you or some shit. I don’t know. I’ve never experienced it.
What I do know is that tonight, I have plans. So many dirty, sexy plans for my nerdy little roommate slash superhero hard-on. I’ve been edging him for days with my mouth and my words and my body rubbing against his and he melts for it every time.
I can still taste him on my tongue from earlier tonight until Matt Catholic Guilt Murdock interrupted us. I know that asshole has premarital sex so he can take his religious sensibilities and fuck right off. I know he doesn’t like me and I guess I can appreciate that he’s looking out for Spider-man but, if I have my way tonight, I’m going to make Webs scream loud enough that Daredevil will hear him all the way in Hell’s Kitchen.
Fuck. I can’t wait.
I make sure the sandwich I made him is still pristine in the fridge and check the clock before slipping into the bathroom.
Perfect timing.
{You might think that I didn’t notice how Shutterbug salivated over my chest that single time he saw me right out of the shower but you'd be wrong. That thirsty little geek wanted to drink the water right off my skin. And now that I know he’s into the scars— which… are you fucking kidding me with that!? —I plan on making his wish come true. Maybe one of mine, too, if I’m very, very lucky. Either way, I think we’re both going to like what I have planned.}
{And if it turns into angry fucking because of the chickens… well, I won’t be mad about that either.}
PETER
There are chickens in the dining room.
An entire huge metal barrel thing full of chickens. Okay. Not full of chickens but there are four chickens in there and that is four more than I thought I would ever see in an apartment.
The chicken coop is shoved into the corner between the chicken barrel and the wall, half-finished, next to a bag of cedar shavings and a sack of chicken feed.
This is now a Whole Thing. Wade has the food, the space, the chickens. Goddamn it, I’m going to be living with these things now, aren’t I?
I stomp back into the kitchen and yank the pre-made sandwich saran wrapped to a plate off the top shelf. Yes, I’m kind of pissed about the chickens but I just came home from patrol and I’m starving. Daredevil and I rounded up fourteen more mercenaries tonight and watching Matt repeatedly punch people is tough work. No matter how many chickens Wade manages to sneak into the apartment, I will still eat the food he leaves for me in the fridge.
I’m not a martyr.
About food.
Wade still hasn’t appeared by the time I finish the sandwich and six handfuls of potato chips so I wash the salt off my hands and head toward his room. I haven’t been inside yet, most of our messing around has been on the couch. Or against the wall. Or bent over the kitchen counter. God… that was a good one. Wade’s tongue should be awarded some kind of medal. But I’ve never been in his room. It’s kind of reached void-of-mystery status in my mind. I picture it having shelves that fold down from the walls that are loaded with high-tech weaponry. That or just a rogue pile of guns and ammo shoved into a corner. I could see it going either way.
I’m halfway down the hall when I register that the shower is going. Wade. Taking a shower. Soap lathered across his broad shoulders. Water streaming over his muscles and scars. His hand around his dick—
Do not get distracted, Parker.
DO NOT think about him in the shower.
I take a deep breath to get myself under control before I pound on the bathroom door with the side of my fist.
“WADE!” I pause, waiting to see if he’ll respond but I don’t hear anything except the shower. Do not think about the shower. “Get your ass out here and explain to me why there are four pairs of beady little eyes staring at me while I eat.”
No reply.
“WADE!”
The water turns off.
“Don’t you know what time it is, Shutterbug? We’re gonna get a noise complaint.”
“Good. If the police come I can have them call animal control to pick up the chickens.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” He gasps through the door.
“Try me.”
“Petey Pie…”
The door opens as Wade’s whine tapers off. Good. I want to have this fight face-to-face.
“What the hell, Wade?” I shout gesticulating wildly and glaring at the man that brought four chickens into our apartment. “I thought we agreed no—“
“You’re cute when your face gets all pink with indignation.”
Shit is it hard to have a fight with Wade when he looks like that. He's standing in the door to the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips and a grin on his face that’s pulled out his dimple. It’s suddenly hard to swallow like my tongue is too big in my mouth and holy shit. He’s so gorgeous, all hard lines and rounded muscles and textured skin. I know that he’d never believe it if I told him but—
A drop of water slides down Wade’s neck and becomes my sole point of focus. I want to lick it up. I want to lick him all over. I—
“You done yelling at me about the chickens?”
Wade braces a hand on either side of the door, stretching out his frame and highlighting the rounded curves and hard plains of his muscles. It’s really, really hard to look away from the droplets clinging to the hollows of his scars, making tiny pools of water all over his body.
“Like what you see, sweet pea?”
My brain snaps back online and I lift my gaze to glare at Wade.
“Fuck you and your psychological warfare.” He grins wider and his dimple deepens. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my focus off his body. “I thought we agreed on no chickens.”
“They’re not chickens yet, Petey Pie. They’re just sweet, little fluff balls.”
“Those,” I point back down the hallway, “are definitely chickens, Wade.”
His arms drop from the door frame and he takes a step toward me.
“C’mon, Webs.” His voice drops low and a shiver runs down my spine. “Think about the food I could make you with all those fresh eggs. Egg drop soup. Scotch eggs. Eggs Benedict. Frittata.”
With every recipe Wade names, he takes a step closer until he’s backed me up against the wall. Goddamn him.
“You can’t bribe me with food,” I insist but it sounds breathy and like I mean the exact opposite.
Wade braces his elbow against the wall next to my head and looms over me, bringing his mouth next to my temple. I can feel his breath against the shell of my ear and another shiver works its way down my spine.
“What can I bribe you with, baby boy?”
Fuck him.
I love it when his voice rumbles like that and he knows it. I lift my chin and glower into his eyes.
“Get rid of the chickens and you can fuck me.”
He huffs out a laugh that lands against the side of my neck.
“Pretty sure I can fuck you any time.”
The hand next to my head threads through my hair and tugs sending lightning through my nerve endings. Usually, he’s right but this is the principle of the thing. If he wants to play checkers with me, I’ll just have to play three-dimensional chess with him.
I lean forward into his heat, biting back a whimper as my hair slides out of his grip, slipping my hands along his sides and around to his back, and tilt my head back to look at him. I know he has a thing about my anime eyes so I try to play them up as much as possible. I honestly wish I’d had the foresight to put on some mascara or something because I need every weapon available to me if I want these chickens out of the house.
“Gosh,” I say, all faux innocence as I reach down and run a fingertip just above the towel around his hips. His abs twitch under the touch. “If only there were something you really, really wanted that I could bargain with.”
I bite my lip and flutter my lashes as I look into his eyes. It only takes him a minute to latch onto exactly what I’m offering because his whole body goes tense.
“Are you serious?”
I shrug and lean back against the wall, folding my arms across my chest.
“Pete, I swear to god if you aren’t serious I’m going to die of a stroke right here, right now.”
“Good thing you’ll come back, then,” I say.
“Argh,” he groans. “I named them. I can’t just turn them out into the cold, cruel world.”
“Not even if I promise to ride you?”
A shudder wracks Wade’s body and I feel a slightly evil smirk overtake my mouth. His head turns and I know he’s looking into the living room, at the big metal barrel containing the four chickens he’s probably named after The Golden Girls. He looks back at me, straight, white teeth biting into his lower lip, then back at the chickens. A big inhale and exhale moves his chest, then he grabs my upper arm.
“Fine. But they have to go to a farm where I can visit them,” he’s tugging me toward the door to his room as he negotiates, “and you need to let me watch you prep yourself.”
He shoves through the door and I get my first glimpse of the inside of Wade’s bedroom. It’s surprisingly clean and there are some racks on the walls filled with weapons, but it’s the pile of guns in the corner that makes me laugh.
“And,” he insists as he starts pulling my clothes off, “I’m really gonna need you to ride me like you hate me, okay?”
“I don’t hate you, Wade,” I mumble through my sweatshirt as he whips it off over my head.
“Then pretend,” he scoffs, “you pretend you’re not a complete asshole all the time, it should be easy for you.”
I shove his hands away from my waistband and step back. “I am not a complete asshole.”
“Yessss,” Wade hisses, crowding toward me again and shoving my pants down. “That’s the spirit, Shutterbug. If you want to slap me once or twice, I wouldn’t be opposed.”
“What is wrong with—?”
My question gets cut off when Wade wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me up, tossing me onto the navy blue bedspread.
“So many things,” he answers anyway. “Lube’s in the bedside table. Get to prepping. I cannot wait to watch you finger that perfect ass.”
WADE
I don’t know the first thing about chickens but I do know how to press my roommate’s buttons. I hadn’t foreseen that the chickens would turn into a bargaining chip but I’m also a go-with-the-flow kind of guy and, if keeping the apartment chicken-free means I finally get to have Spider-man ride my dick like he was made for it, well…
Bye, Dorothy, Sophia, Blanche, and Rose. Enjoy your farm upstate.
I’ll miss those little egg-producing featherbrains but right this second I’m busy focusing on Shutterbug, naked, on all fours, on my bed, digging a bottle of lube out of the nightstand.
<That’s not lube.>
Oof.
I drop my towel onto the floor and crawl up the mattress toward Petey Pie.
“Not that one,” I say, grabbing the bottle out of his hand as I flop to my side next to him.
“Why do you have gun oil in your drawer?”
I snort. “You really gotta ask?”
He looks around my room as I toss the gun oil aside and smooth my hand down his spine. He arches into my touch like a cat and I wonder, not for the first time, if I’m dead. Like really, truly, never coming back, dead.
Because Wade W. Wilson does not get to have shit like this. A smart, gorgeous, noble man that seems to genuinely like me and takes very little prodding and negotiation to ride my cock.
[The prodding comes later.]
<Yeah, it does.>
Shutterbug finally finds the lube in my drawer and turns to me with a smile on his face, pink flushing his cheeks and making his freckles stand out. I know I threatened to have a stroke earlier if we didn’t do this but now I think I might just be having a stroke in general.
“Hey,” I reach out and grab the lube while wrapping my other arm around his waist and tugging him against me until he drops down onto my chest. “You don’t really have to do this if you don’t want to.”
He presses up on his elbows so that he can look down at me, his brow furrowed and his face halfway to a scowl. Fuck, he’s so cute.
“If you think I’m going to say that you don’t have to get rid of the chickens, keep dreaming.”
“I’ll get rid of the chickens anyway.” I nuzzle up into his neck, feeling the heat of his blush against my face. “I just don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.”
His heavy exhale ghosts across my scalp. “I can’t figure you out.”
I roll my hard dick against his abs. “I’m not that complicated.”
“No, I mean…” He sighs again. “You’re always giving up stuff for me.”
“C’mon, Webs,” I mumble against his skin. “You gotta know that I’d rather have you than anything else.”
He freezes over me and I have to rewind what I just said in my head. Is that… wrong? Was I not supposed to—
<You mostly tell him dick jokes and try to suck him off, I think your genuine feelings are a bit of a surprise.>
Well, shit. That’s awkward. Can I fix it?
“I mean, I’ll travel for hits and stuff. You won’t ever have to know about them. And I won’t do that many, just enough to keep the monsters at bay or whatever. You can vet them if you want and we can make sure I’m working for the good guys. And I’ll talk to you before I go ham in a warehouse full of mercenaries again—”
[Stop talking.]
My mouth snaps shut.
He lifts his head further, pushing up onto his hands so that he can look down at me. It grinds his lower belly into my dick but I know better than to groan at the sensation. Fuck. I hope he knows that I can’t really control the precome situation, though. It’s involuntary. He’s just too hot.
Shutterbug is peering at me like he’s never seen me before. His eyes narrowed and his brows bunched together, lips rolled into a thin line.
Okay.
I really fucked up, then.
Maybe I should—
[Do not talk.]
“Goddamn it, Wade.”
Then his mouth is on me, his body dropping back to mine, our chests pressing together and our legs tangling. He licks at my bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and scraping his front teeth across the tender inside as he pulls away.
“I thought this was just going to be dirty, chicken bargaining sex but you had to go and open your big mouth.”
He shoves himself up until he’s sitting on my stomach, thighs squeezing against my hips where he’s straddled over me.
“What kind of sex is it?” I ask, feeling like I missed a few stairs on my way to the ground floor.
He grabs the lube out of my hand and snaps it open. “Me riding my boyfriend’s huge dick because I want to.” Lube coats his fingers and his hand drops to his hard cock, giving a few slow strokes. “And also the chicken thing.”
I wrap a hand around his hips to hold him still as I lever myself up into a sitting position, pulling him flush to my lap so I can look into his eyes. He’s biting his lip and his eyelids are fluttering and the pink from his cheeks is spreading down his chest.
“Boyfriend?” The question is thick in my throat but manages to make it out loud enough for Petey Pie to hear because his lust-glazed eyes focus on me.
“Yeah, Wade. Boyfriend.”
His mouth drops to mine again, licking against my teeth and tongue as his hand curls around both of our dicks, squeezing them together and keeping that slow, lazy rhythm as he tastes me.
I’ve seen the way this man eats food, enthusiastic and hungry, savoring every bite even though they’re fast. He eats at my mouth the same way, twining his tongue around mine and rubbing it across the roof of my mouth as he fucks us both with his hand.
I groan into his mouth as his other hand slides over my shoulder and to the back of my neck, flexing, the grip barely there but enough to make sparks jolt down my spine. He sucks my tongue as he pulls away from me, making my dick jerk in his hand.
He presses his forehead into mine and slides his hand off our hard cocks. I can feel his panting breaths against my wet mouth and then the little gasp of air as his slick fingers slide over his hole.
“I thought I got to watch,” I say roughly.
“You want me to stop?”
“Fuck no.”
He laughs against me and then groans, tipping his head back and elongating his throat, tightening his grasp on the back of my neck. God, he’s so hot. I’m so fucking lucky. I can’t believe this is real.
I whisper those words against his skin as I lean forward and lick at his neck. The mark from earlier is still there and I give it extra attention, sucking on it hard as Webs shudders above me. The sounds he’s making fill my room and I hope the walls hold this memory forever so that, when I eventually fuck this up, I’ll still be able to hear his moans echoing from the baseboards.
The hair on his legs is soft against my palms as I slide my hands up his outer thighs until I’m grabbing at his ass. He makes a choked sound as I tease into his crease, stroking where he’s spread around his own fingers.
“Two fingers, baby boy?” I ask. “You gotta know I’m bigger than that.”
“You have such a goddamn egoooooo.”
The sentence ends with a groan as I slide one of my fingers in alongside his. I’ve never stretched him this far and, for a second, I worry that I hurt him but then his hips start working against mine, riding back against our combined fingers. I curl my finger over his and rub at his prostate as he moves, making him clench and whimper around me.
“More,” he demands.
Fuck.
I pat around the mattress with my unoccupied hand until I find the lube, bringing it behind him and letting it drip over our fingers. His forehead drops to my shoulder as I stroke him with another finger before nudging against his hole and sliding inside.
He squeezes the back of my neck hard enough to leave a bruise, if I were that kind of person, as his ass opens up for me. I pause with just the tip of my second finger inside of him. I’m trembling and my dick is so hard it hurts.
“You okay, Shutterbug?”
PETER
It hurts but in the best way possible.
There’s a feedback loop going from where the tip of my dick rubs against Wade’s stomach to the bruise he sucked into my neck to the place where his fingers press inside me.
“It’s good,” I gasp into the muscle of his shoulder.
And god it is so good.
I’ve had hook-ups and girlfriends that have played with my ass before but Wade is something else. In so many ways. He’s intense and methodical like he’s learning everything I like and committing it to memory for later. I’ve never been with someone who’s so intent on making me feel good. Wade definitely wants his dick in my ass but I’m convinced he’s actually pushing for it because he knows that I’ll like it.
And I think I will, too.
Fuck. I think I'll like it so much.
Wade’s fingers are curled over the top of mine, guiding our hands together as he inches his fingers into me, achingly slow, and then draws them out at the same pace, brushing against that spot inside me that makes me worry I might come before he even gets his dick inside me. I squirm against him, rutting my cock against the hot, rough skin of his stomach, and try to sink myself back onto our fingers. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
“Fuck,” he murmurs against the side of my head. “You’re opening up for me so good, baby boy.”
I jerk at his voice, dark and harsh, a perfect contrast to the gentle way he’s touching me. I knew that Wade talked a lot even before I knew he was Deadpool but, for some reason, it never occurred to me that he would keep talking in bed. Or that the overly confident words that I would normally find so irritating would burrow into my brain and hit every pleasure center I have.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Can’t wait for you to come on my cock.”
His fingers drive in deeper and faster and I yelp, squeezing at the back of his neck tight enough that it makes his hips thrust up against mine. I can’t decide if I want to rub my dick into his abs or fuck myself back onto our fingers. Every part of me feels overly sensitive but I want more and my body is chasing after it.
“Condom?”
“In the dra—“
I don’t let him finish, throwing myself off his lap and back toward the nightstand drawer. His fingers slip from my ass, tugging mine out with them, and I clench around the emptiness. God, I want him inside me yesterday. Why is this taking so long?
I grab one of the square foil packets out of the drawer and fling it back over my shoulder. “Put that on. Now.”
“I like this side of you, sweet pea.” I hear the crinkle of the wrapper and the snap of the condom as I crawl back into Wade’s lap. “Bossy. Horny. Begging for my dick.”
“I’m not begging,” I tell him as I find the lube and spill some over his cock. “I’m taking what I want.”
“You know that you’re just operant conditioning me to bring more chickens into the apartment, right?”
I laugh and lean down to bite at his ear, crowding closer so I can reach behind me to grasp the base of his cock and hold it in place.
“It’s weirdly sexy when you get all science-y.”
“I’m more than just my immaculate Canadian bo— ungh.”
Wade’s groan vibrates against my chest, sending heat pooling into my lower belly. He wasn’t kidding, he is big. I can feel the pressure of him against me as I lower myself onto him, pressing harder until the head of cock slips in.
I suck in a breath at the stretch because it burns more than I was expecting. Wade’s big hands lift to my face, smoothing my damp hair off my forehead and cupping my jaw. He leans forward, sprinkling small kisses across my face and whispering into my skin. I’m not sure if he knows he’s doing it, that he’s done it before, that it makes my heart swim in my chest.
Gorgeous.
I’m so fucking lucky.
I can’t believe this is real.
I relax enough to slide down his cock a little further, a shiver racing across my skin. He leans back, still holding my face, and drinks in my features. No one has ever looked at me like that before.
“Shutterbug,” he purrs, low and rich, “you look really good sitting on my dick. Like way better than I thought you would.”
“Fuck you.” I punch him in the shoulder, barely pulling it, knowing that he can take it.
He groans dramatically, biting his lower lip and rolling his eyes back in his head.
“That’s what I’m waiting for, honey bunny. Put me outta my misery.”
Wade runs his hand from my ass up my spine, his palm rough against my skin. I arch into his touch and sink lower onto his cock, gasping at the way the burn of the stretch is coalescing into something hotter. His lips brush against my ear as he leans forward, his tongue dragging along the outer shell, making me shudder and sink deeper onto him.
“Told you you’d like it.”
A puff of air leaves me that was supposed to be a laugh but my entire brain is centered on where Wade’s cock is filling me.
“Your cock is allowed,” I gasp. “Your cockiness is not.”
“How else,” he nuzzles into my neck, “am I supposed to get you to ride me like you hate me if I’m not annoying?”
“Oh, fuck,” I groan as my ass settles against Wade’s thighs. “Have you considered just not talking at all?”
“Petey Pie.” His palm slides back down my spine, pulling a shiver across my body again and making me clench on his cock. Jesus. That’s— fuck. “Have you met me?”
“I’m going to be honest with you, Wade. “ I slump over, pressing my forehead into his shoulder and wiggling on his dick. “I have no idea what we’re talking about right now.”
“The pretty pink flush on your chest.” Wade’s big hand slides up my belly and across my chest, rubbing at one of my nipples with his thumb.
“All these perfect fucking freckles.” His mouth drops to my collarbone, his tongue tracing serpentine patterns that he insists connect the dots of my freckles.
“The mark I left on your neck.” He moves his mouth up, sinking his teeth over the mark and making my whole body jerk and tighten around him again.
“This gorgeous cock.” His hand slides back down my belly, fingertips playing through the wetness at the head of my cock.
“These kinky fucking spinnerets.” Wade tugs one of my wrists to his mouth and drags his tongue over my webbing spigot before sealing his lips and sucking.
“Or maybe,” he mutters against my wrist, “we’re talking about the way you can’t keep yourself from bouncing on my cock.”
“Yeah,” I beg, despite the fact I told Wade earlier that I do not beg. “Let’s talk about that.”
I grip his shoulder and the back of his neck tight, driving myself back down on his length, rolling my hips at the bottom until it rubs against my prostate. Then lifting my hips, his cock pulling out halfway, before I drop down again, flexing my fingers around his neck.
Wade groans against my wrist and then sucks again which makes my whole body clench around him.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Remember that time I accidentally let Paste Pot Pete go? Or when I stole your web shooter to build a web across the entrances to the mayor’s office? Or—”
“Wade. Shut up.”
I raise myself up until just the tip of his cock is inside me then shove back onto him again. I’m not going to fuck him like I hate him but I am going to fuck him hard. Because I want it. Because it feels good. Because he asked for it and I really don’t hate him at all.
Wade lets me lead as I pick up the pace, riding him hard and fast. He wraps an arm around my waist and buries his face into my neck, muttering filth against the mark he left.
So tight.
You were made for my cock.
Ride me so good.
Can’t wait to wreck you.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
The bed creaks underneath us, a bass line to the sound of Wade’s words and my whimpering moans. Everything goes a little fuzzy as I fuck myself onto Wade’s cock. My orgasm coming on like a fog, enveloping everything until it’s all I can see and feel and breathe.
“Wade.” I squeeze hard at the back of his neck, making him jerk and groan under me. “I’m gonna— I need—”
The sentence trails off into a whine as I roll my hips, grinding down on Wade’s cock, forcing it against my prostate. Fuck. Christ. I want more of that feeling. I want it to be over and I never want it to be over at the same time.
Wade shifts underneath me, moving until a lube-slick hand wraps around my cock, wringing a loud moan out of me. He leans back, watching my face as I ride him, as he works me over with his hand, as he grabs my arm and drags my wrist toward his mouth.
I should probably be embarrassed that the second Wade scrapes his teeth over my web spigot, my dick erupts. Cum lashing up Wade’s stomach and chest, covering his hand as he swallows the webbing I shot into his mouth. He groans and shudders as he works me through my orgasm and licks clean first one wrist and then the other. I feel his cock kick inside me and another burst of cum dribbles out of me.
“Fuck,” he groans, dropping my wrist and wrapping his arms around my waist, tugging me into his chest. “If I knew you had that in you, Shutterbug, I would have bent you over the table the minute you walked through my door.”
“How can you even talk right now?” I mumble into his chest as I slump forward.
“Excellent stamina. Short refractory period.” There’s a pause like he’s considering something, then, “You should really get your webbing looked at because that shit is potent. Like absinthe-flavored Viagra.”
I try really hard not to think about how some spiders can coat their webbing with pheromones. I just came my brain out so it’s easier than it might normally be. My eyes have just drifted shut when Wade’s voice rumbles against my ear where I’m tucked into his chest.
“Hey, sweet pea?”
He runs his hand up my spine again and cups the back of my neck. It doesn’t work on me quite like it works on him but the way his thumb digs into my tense muscles is nice.
“What, Wade?”
“Do I still have to get rid of the chickens?”
This guy.
I roll my eyes. “Yes.”
“Oof.” He runs his other hand down to my ass and smacks it just hard enough that I clench around his spent dick. The noise that comes out of my mouth is embarrassing. I try to stifle it against his shoulder. “You drive a hard bargain, Spides, but it’s lovely doing business with you.”
I probably shouldn’t pass out with his cock still inside me but…
WADE
“Wake up, Pete.” I slap a hand down on Shutterbug’s goddamn perfect ass through the bedspread and watch him pill-bug himself into a little ball wrapped in a comforter. “It’s Saturday morning. Time to visit, May.”
The little nympho wanted to fuck once more last night before turning into a puddle of cum-drunk superhero, making me clean him up while he lounged in my bed like a king.
I’ve created a monster.
It’s fucking great.
I smack his ass again and his body jerks, brown, fluffy hair and suspicious anime eyes appearing above the comforter.
“How do you know about Aunt May?”
“I’m a big, bad mercenary, baby boy. I know all sorts of highly classified and private shit.”
Those brown eyes narrow again until they’re little more than angry slits in his face. He looks kind of mad. I guess it’s a good thing we fucked last night.
TWICE.
“Wait. Wait a second, Wade.”
He crawls out from under the comforter wearing just the boxers I wrestled him into, all lithe and graceful, and if he thinks I won’t pin him down and pound him into the mattress again, his faith in me is wildly misplaced.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
He knee walks across the bed toward me and then stops, crossing his arms over his chest and making the muscles in his arms bunch and flex. He has great shoulders. It’s got to be from all the swinging around. I think maybe I lose myself in them for a second because the next thing I know he’s poking me in the stomach.
“What?”
“What do you mean what? How long have you known?”
“Oof, dates and times are not really my thing, sweet pea.”
“Guess.”
Hmmm, I’m not sure what that tone of voice is.
<Irritation.>
[Annoyance.]
{Oh, good. You two are still here.}
“I mean… ballpark?” He just glares at me like he knows the answer already. Hell, he probably does. “The day you signed the rental agreement.”
He blinks and several waves of emotion flow across his face, there and gone before I can figure out what they are. His teeth snag on his lower lip and his brow scrunches and he stares at the center of my chest.
“Wade.” He tilts his chin up and meets my eyes, cocking his head in question. “Are you the one that sends the daisies every week?”
He noticed that, huh?
I bite my lip and rub at the back of my neck, looking anywhere but at the nearly naked, wet dream in my bed. If he gives me those melty, awww, you shouldn’t have, puppy dog eyes, I really am going to fuck him into the mattress. And I know the visits with his aunt are important so I contemplate the knife marks in the ceiling instead.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Websy.”
He huffs out an annoyed breath that hits the front of my throat. I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from grabbing him. Does he know how close he is to getting bent over the bed and railed? He has to know, right? Like, no one can just exude that much sex energy subconsciously, right?
I can feel his gaze on my face while I count the knife marks again. Twenty-seven. I should probably practice more. Finally, he huffs out a second annoyed breath and climbs off the bed, decreasing the likelihood of me fucking him into it again by… not very much, honestly.
“Let me get dressed,” he says, his voice growing quieter as he walks out of my room and toward his.
Something’s… something is weird here. I did something wrong or… Jesus. Did I fuck this up already?
I follow him to his room, leaning against his door frame and watching him shrug into a shirt and hunt the room for his glasses.
“I don’t have to come,” I try. “If you don’t want me to.”
His head snaps up, eyes finding me in his doorway. His brows furrow and he looks me over before his face relaxes.
“No, Wade.” Oh. Okay. Right. Of course, he doesn’t want me to come meet his Aunt May. That’s fine. Totally fine. I’ll just— “Of course, I want you to come.”
“Oh shit. Really?”
He laughs. “Yeah. I think she’ll like you.” He finds his glasses and slides them onto his face. “Or she’ll hate you. You tend to have that effect on people.”
“I’ll have you know, Shutterbug,” I scoff nervously, “that I plan on being on my best behavior.”
Petey Pie crosses the room to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me close, tilting his head up until his chin is resting on my chest and I can feel him staring at me again.
“I honestly cannot wait to see what you think best behavior look likes.”
“See?” I tilt my head down and scowl. “Complete asshole.”
He grins at me and winks [That’s our move!] before grabbing my hand, threading our fingers together, and pulling me toward the door.
Little does he know, I’ll follow him anywhere. Even if he eventually lets go.
<Geez. Way to make it creepy, my guy.>
The memory care facility is a little run-down but, after I figured out it’s where most of Peter Parker’s money went, I made sure that Aunt May had the best room. It’s clean and well-lit and she’s sitting on a comfortable-looking grey couch with a knitting project in her lap. There’s quiet music playing, jazz, I think, that compliments the click clack click of the needles.
Shutterbug prepared me on the way over and it took everything in me not to pull him into my lap on public transportation while he told me about his Aunt May. How she has good days and bad. How she raised him. How they both lost his Uncle Ben. How her memory started to decline. And how she doesn’t recognize him most days as her Peter because her memory is firmly fixed in a time when Uncle Ben was still alive.
Which is why, when he walks through the door and she turns to him with a wide smile and a delighted, “Peter!” I’m ready to catch him when he stumbles.
It looks like today is a good day.
“Aunt May!”
His voice is thick as he practically sprints across the space and falls next to her on the couch, wrapping her up in a hug that she returns enthusiastically.
She leans back and pushes his hair off his forehead with a gentle hand. “I’ve missed you, dear.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Shutterbug chokes out.
Fuck.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come.
I know I’m a mercenary or whatever but this moment feels too private for even me to be digging around in. I start backing out the door when Aunt May calls me out. Honestly, I should have been expecting it from one of Spider-man’s relatives.
“Who’s this?”
Webs twists toward me, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and beckons me forward. I perch on the chair kitty-corner to the couch and sweat like I’m being murdered as I look at Shutterbug and his aunt together on the couch.
I’m making this weird.
I shouldn’t have come.
Now he’s going to have to explain to his aunt why he dragged his dumb fuck muscle roommate to visit and—
“This is my boyfriend, Wade.”
What the fuck?
“Peter Parker, I would have thought an academic was more your type.” Aunt May tips her head and I feel like a bug under a microscope, my heart pounding and adrenaline dumping into my system. Fuck. I barely graduated high school. I’m stupid and she hates me. “But I can see why you’re with this one. Strong, isn’t he?”
What the FUCK?
Webs grins at me. “You have no idea, Aunt May.”
What the actual fuck!?
“So,” I open my mouth because I can’t fucking help myself and what the hell am I going to say? Christ, I hope it’s something good. “I’m ready to hear all of Shutterbug’s embarrassing childhood stories.”
I don’t even have time to berate myself because May bursts out laughing.
“Oh, I like you. Has Peter ever told you about the time he tried to build a rocket ship in his bedroom?”
“Aunt May,” Webs groans. “Please don’t.”
“Peter,” she laughs, “you wore half-burnt underwear for weeks until you finally fessed up to setting your room on fire.”
“Tell me more about this half-burnt underwear,” I murmur as I lean toward May. She leans back conspiratorially and tells me embarrassing stories about Shutterbug for an hour while he groans in the background.
A knock at the door is what finally pulls her out of story mode. May looks over my shoulder and scowls at whatever she sees there.
“If this is you telling me that this is the end of their visiting hour, kindly fuck off.”
Webs chokes and I laugh. I like her. Can kind of see where Petey Pie gets it.
“May,” the nurse at the door scolds, “don’t think I won’t come in there and stab you with one of them knitting needles.”
The two of them glare at each other over my shoulder and it is wildly uncomfortable but, finally, the nurse sighs.
“Five more minutes, you old battle axe.”
“Love you, dear,” May calls sweetly after the nurse’s retreating steps. Her eyes flick back to mine again. “I guess I have to get this out of the way, then.”
“Get what out of the way?” Webs asks from the chair. He and I switched seats about ten minutes into the regaling and I do not regret a minute of it.
“Peter, quiet. I’m going to talk to Wade now.”
“You’ve been talking to him this whole time.”
“Aww, don’t be jealous, sweet pea. You can have me all to yourself when we get home.”
May shifts on the couch until she’s facing me, her knee pressed against mine and her arm resting along the back of the couch. She looks serious and my throat tightens up. This is the moment she tells me I’m not good enough for her nephew. And she’ll be one hundred percent right.
“All Ben and I ever wanted for Peter was happiness.” Damn. She’s going to be nice while she eviscerates me. That’s the fucking worst. “He’s such a serious boy and we knew he had a hard time at school. Bullies, you know. But, after Ben died, I was worried I was losing Peter, too. He changed so much and he wouldn’t let anybody in. But now here you are.”
My mouth opens and closes several times like a landed fish. For once, I think I might be speechless.
May leans forward, reaching up to cup my face. Her hands are warm and dry as she cradles my jaw in her hands. Her eyes squint at me under the ball cap and the hood.
“You’re not terribly handsome are you?”
“Aunt May!” Petey Pie scolds in indignation but I just huff.
“I have a winning personality to make up for it, ma’am.”
“Call me May, dear,” she says, eyes crinkling with mirth and one palm tapping the side of my face twice. “You’re a smart ass. Just like my Peter.”
“See, Shutterbug?” I glance over at him and waggle my brow. “I knew you weren’t the perfect little angel you pretend to be.”
“Wade—“
“Wade,” May interrupts whatever Webs was about to say and my eyes go back to hers. “Peter needs someone to take care of him even though he thinks he doesn’t. Can you do that?”
“I make an excellent brunch quiche, May.”
“Good,” she hums happily, still holding my face between her hands. “He needs someone that likes all the sides of him. Someone that sees all the sides of him. Can you do that?”
“You might say I’ve seen more of Petey Pie than is appropriate to mention in polite company.”
Shutterbug mutters something grumpy under his breath at that but May just snorts. I like her a lot.
“I guess I don’t have to ask you if you keep him on his toes.”
“His heels never touch the ground.”
May smiles at me then, sweet and lovely, and I can see the pieces of her that Shutterbug carries around with him. The parts he tried to protect from me for so long. This whole family seems like a bunch of goddamn stellar human beings and it’s enough to give a guy a complex.
“Wade.” May’s voice has grown serious again. “I love Peter but I know that sometimes I can’t love him as he is now because I don’t always remember. He needs someone to love him for the man he’s become. Can you do that?”
My throat tightens up and goes dry.
This was not what I was expecting out of today but if she’s asking me what I think she’s asking me, the answer is a no-brainer. I have to clear my throat a few times while May smoothes her fingertips across my forehead. This is the woman that raised Shutterbug, that helped him become the annoying, self-righteous, smart assed, responsible guy that lets me tongue fuck him whenever I want.
I’ll tell her what she wants to hear. I’ll tell her the truth.
“Yes, May,” I say to her while I tell Webs at the same time. “I can do that. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
PETER
He’s so good with Aunt May, more gentle than I would have thought he was capable of. It’s been so damn long since I’ve seen her genuine smile and heard her snort with laughter. And Wade did that.
That’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s a gift I didn’t even know I was waiting to receive but then he gives me something else. Something wrapped in blood and sweat and pain and promise.
I almost step in when Aunt May asks Wade if he can love me. We’re not there yet and I don’t want to make this visit more awkward than it’s already been, but Wade gives his answer like it’s sitting right on the tip of his tongue.
“Yes, May. I can do that. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
That son of a bitch.
I suck in a quick breath and nearly choke on it, watching through blurry eyes as Aunt May tugs Wade’s face down and presses a kiss to his forehead. The merc’s eyes flutter shut at the touch and a slow, sweet smile spreads across his face as she whispers something into his ear.
He looks happy. Really happy. And I want to spend the rest of my life trying to keep that look on his face.
“Now get out of here,” Aunt May says, shoving gently at Wade’s shoulder. “But keep sending the daisies. They’re lovely.” She turns her gaze to me. “Come give me a hug, Peter. I know it’s been so long since you’ve seen me.”
Aunt May holds her arms out to me as Wade steps away and I start crying. I can’t help it. I visit her every week, sometimes more, but she’s right. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her the way I remember her. The way she was when I was growing up. The way she was before the memory care facility.
I wrap my arms around her and drop my face into her hair. She smells like oranges, just like she always does.
“I love you, Aunt May,” I tell her. “Every time I come to see you, I always love you. Don’t forget that.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she sighs softly, “I could never forget that.”
I start to pull away but she tightens her arms around me and turns her head until her mouth is right next to my ear.
“Let him take care of you, Peter.” She brushes a kiss onto my cheek. “You don’t have to be so alone all the time.”
I nod because what else am I supposed to do? Aunt May’s right, she always is. I keep to myself because I’m not just Peter Parker, I’m Spider-man. I live a life that most people can’t fathom, full of responsibilities that I can’t walk away from.
"You may want to tell him to lay off on marking your neck, though. It's awfully noticeable."
My face heats up and I can only grumble out, "Aunt May..." before she continues.
“I love you, Peter. I don’t want you to forget that either.”
“Never, Aunt May.”
I'm fully crying as the nurse comes in to help Aunt May to bed. Visits tend to tire her out and I know she needs a nap but it’s hard to let this version of her go.
Wade slides an arm around my waist and pulls me to his side, turning his head so he can whisper directly above my ear.
“I like her, Webs.”
“Me too,” I sob.
He nudges me into the hallway after the third dagger-sharp glare from the nurse and pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around him and cry into his sweatshirt, the cotton growing damp against my face. A month ago, I would have rather died than show Deadpool any weakness but right now I need him to keep his arms around me. Anchoring me to the ground and letting me be sad and happy and everything complicated I feel about Aunt May.
I don’t know how long I cry, Wade’s palm moving up and down my back in a steady rhythm, before my breaths come easier and my tears taper off. I feel wrung out but also relieved. Like I walked through fire and came out the other side.
“Ready, sweet pea?”
Wade’s voice is low as he moves his hands to my face, tilting my chin up toward him so he can wipe the tears off my damp cheeks.
“Yeah.” I look into his eyes and wonder why he hides this part of himself, the part that wants to take care of people, the part that feels everything so deeply. The part that made me fall in love with him. “Thank you.”
Something passes across his face like he can hear everything that single thank you means. Thank you for coming with me. Thank you for loving my Aunt May.
Thank you for loving me.
“Anytime, Shutterbug.”
I reach down and thread my fingers through his, holding his hand as I lead him down the hallway toward the exit. He keeps looking at me out of the corner of his eye and every time I catch him, I squeeze my hand around his.
“Sooooo,” I start. Now that I’m done sobbing my stomach sore, I’m dying of curiosity. “What did she say to you?”
Wade’s smile goes crooked and his dimple pops out. I reach over with my other hand to poke it which makes it deepen.
“Said I was good for you.” He pauses, then, “So I told her just how good I can be.”
Wade turns to me and winks. I roll my eyes.
“Gross. That’s my aunt, the woman that raised me. Do you have no shame?”
“You know I don’t, sweet pea.”
I trudge along beside him toward the automatic doors leading outside. If I ask again, it’s going to be a point in his favor and I hate that but…
“Seriously. What did she say to you?”
Wade’s quiet and I’m not sure he’s going to answer. When he finally does, his voice sounds thick and rougher than usual.
“She said ‘Welcome to the family.’”
Oh.
I open my mouth to say something but snap it shut on what feels like is going to be another sob. Aunt May liked Wade. I knew it. I saw it. But it isn’t just that. She made him family. My family.
“Oh,” I say as we step through the doors and out on the sidewalk in front of the building. “Probably because you told her that you’d take care of me. That you…”
Goddamn it.
Why can’t I say it out loud?
“That I, what? Love you?”
My throat clicks as I swallow and I can see Wade tip his head back with a groan of disbelief out of the corner of my eye.
“Course I love you, sweet pea. I know I have a reputation but I don’t actually dick down every willing piece of ass.”
“Oh my god.” I shove him away, half appalled and half amused. More than half amused. This guy. “Fuck you. You’re such a dick.”
Wade snatches me up with an arm across my waist and drags me around a corner, out of sight of the parking lot. He presses me into the side of the building, one hand dropping to my hip and the other bracing against the wall next to my head.
“Knew you loved my dick, shutterbug.” Wade leans down to whisper in my ear, sending a cascade of goosebumps down my back.
“You’re such an asshole.”
I shove at his chest because this is a goddamn serious conversation and he keeps talking about his dick. He reaches up and shoves his hood and baseball cap off his head as he looks down at me. Something I know he hates doing in public but something he’s doing because he wants me to see how serious he is.
“Peter, I love the shit out of you.” I pause at the tone in his voice, at the intense look in his eyes. My hands still on his chest, his heart thumping against my palms. “I love you when you wear that stupidly patriotic suit of yours. I love you when you’re hunched over your computer grumbling about your boss and editing those breathtaking photos. I love you when you’re hoovering up food like Kirby and when you can’t control your webbing. I’m probably not gonna say it enough and I’m probably always gonna be an asshole but I wasn’t lying to May. I’ll take care of you. I’ll see all of you. I’ll love you. And it’ll be the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
Jesus. This guy.
“Goddamn it, Wade.”
I press up into him until we’re plastered together chest to thigh and brush my mouth over his. He groans as I curl my hand over the back of his neck and squeeze, licking into his mouth and tasting the Earl Grey tea that Aunt May made him drink.
The kiss is sweet and slow, our tongues sliding against each other and moving from my mouth to his. He tries to pull away and I grab his neck tighter, sucking his lower lip into my mouth before finally backing off.
“I know I should tell you to stop grabbing the back of my neck like that but fuck if I don’t like it.” He leans down, bumping his forehead against mine. “You can lead me around by my neck anytime.”
“I’m definitely going to take you up on that. I think you’d look good in a webbing collar.”
I slip out from between his body and the wall as I hear him groan, “Shiiiiit” behind me. It only takes a few steps before he catches up with me and we head toward the bus stop. I wonder if I can convince him to stop at the German sausage place on the way home.
“Hey.” He nudges me with his shoulder as we move down the sidewalk. “Don’t you have something you want to say to me?”
I spin to face him so I’m walking backward while he’s walking forward. His eyes are shadowed under his cap and hood but I can see the smile on his face. And that adorable dimple.
I love that face. I love that dimple. I love that man. He knows it. And if he doesn’t, I’ll just have to keep showing him. Because I think he’d be terribly disappointed if I gave it up too easily.
“I don’t think so.” I scrunch my brow and squint up at the grey sky. “Nothing I can think of.”
He leans toward me, predatory. “I bet I could wring a confession out of you.”
I shrug but can’t keep a smile from tugging up the corners of my mouth. “You’re welcome to try.”
Wade spins me back around and drops an arm over my shoulders, tucking me tight against his side as we head toward home. “Trust me, baby boy. I’ll try all night if I have to.”
Best. Roommate. Ever.