quipsandthwips | Deerington Inbox

[ Peter's attitude is contagious, Wade almost find himself wanting to curl up in bed and sleep too. It's a shame he has a cake to pay attention to, and about a half hour to burn if he's counting cool-down time. Who wates for a cake to cool down? Not Wade No Patience Wilson. He's the type of person that burns his tongue of steaming hot food that just came out of the oven. A local dumbass. ]

Mhmm. But you just banned me from the house, so I guess I can't.

[ He can't help the grin that creeps over his face. A grin that is very present as he presses a few lazy kisses against the side of Peter's throat. ]

Feeling merciful enough to lift that banhammer, Samantha?

[ There is a 100% chance he's going to try to win Peter over with cake and then force him back into bed for some nice cozy naps. Maybe that's the part of his brain that hasn't slept yet deciding that though.

Peter's warm and relaxed and just generally carrying a sleepy aura. All of that is really dragging Wade back down to Earth. ]

You're so comfy, I think I could die like this. If I could die. But we should really talk about your possible burglar etiquette.

Edited (WAIT I WILL NOT REUSE ICONS I HAVE TOO MANY FOR THAT) 2019-09-07 03:05 (UTC)

[He makes a grumbly noise into Wade's shoulder that could be English. Maybe?

Maybe. Wait, let him turn his head a little. Unruly, unbrushed hair sweeps against Wade's jaw.]

What should my burglar etiquette be, champ?

[ Wade has to lean his head away, a reaction to the hairs tickling him. ]

First, you should never call me champ ever again, I feel badtouched in the childhood and I don't like it. Second, you're not supposed to cuddle your burglar. Third, creep out without a baseball bat or a knife or something. Or just, y'know, if you have a burglar problem, lock yourself in your room and call me. So I can unburgle you.

[ He pulls away slightly, to peer over at the timer he'd set. Then with a lazy hum, his hands find Peter's shoulders to start pushing him towards the couch in the living room. ] We're either cuddling or making out for thirty minutes, up to you, but we're doing it somewhere comfy. But not comfy enough that I'll fall asleep, and possibly burn your house down on accident.

Eeeh. If they burglarize me, it means my house might be cleaner?

[But oh, hey, he's being turned around and led toward a couch.]

Man, that'd be a heck of a birthday gift, right there. Stealing my pizza boxes out from under my nose.

[Yes, there are pizza boxes still in the corner.

Yes, they've been there since before the food shortage.

He keeps them in memorium.

Sleepily, he continues rambling:]

... I mean, burning down the house would clean it up, too, but... I like having a bed...

[ Wade lets him ramble, because he's on a mission. ]

Beds are nice.

[ Quickly, he stops Peter in front of the couch, before flopping down on it and yanking him down on top of him. Sure, it's probably gonna end with an elbow or a knee somewhere he doesn't want. But before Peter decided he was way too horny to stick to that big slow sign he'd tried to put up, he'd seemed to like basking like a weird little lizard on an even weirder rock. ]

But couches are severely underrated. Movie marathons happen on couches, sexy firsts happen on couches, cuddles happen on couches.

[ Wade pauses, seeming to rewind. ]

Wait, are you saying if I got you a new bed I could burn your house down?

[Oh, yeah, there's an elbow in his ribs. Which Peter has plenty of grace and skill to not let happen, but... eh. He's tired. The human-shaped lizard flops and lays there, basking on his rock groggily, pleasantly surprised by the thump-thump of a muffled heartbeat under one ear.]

It's a tempting offer but...

... Don't burn my house down.

[Maybe Wade could burn down his own. Take out Soup Boy.]

Never listen to Peter's advice when Peter's half-asleep.

[ This is fine. This is perfect. Well, it won't be when his timer goes off but until then Wade's gonna enjoy what he can get. ]

Ooohh, third-person. Can I hear your evil villain laugh now? Maybe your plan to take over the city.

[ Despite the teasing, one of Wade's hands starts exploring gently. Fingertips are trailed over Peter's jaw, to follow a path tracing over his ear before Peter's getting a scalp massage.

Soup Boy stays! ]

What about everything on the floor? Do you need a new bed?

... Mwa ha ha...

[Wow, his villain laugh is really lethargic and uninspiring. He nestles up higher into Wade's chin, like he can't get enough warmth from it, the fingers in his hair eliciting a groan of relief.]

Hmm... come to think of it, should probably not have a mattress on the floor anymore.

[Yes, his bed has no frame, yes it's just laying on the floor, but it's comfortable! Lots of blankets! Now if only it weren't surrounded by the debris from the incident that is 'Peter Parker's daily living'.]

[ Peter's terrible laugh, stirs a laugh from Wade, chest rising and falling with it, sorry buddy, it's the price you gotta pay for having a living basking rock with a sense of humour.

But the nestling pulls a pleased hum from Wade and he nestles closer in return. ] I didn't peg you for the morning cuddler type.

[ Whenever they fell asleep on the couch before Peter admitted he liked him a little more than best buds, Wade always woke up with Peter trying to detangle them as quickly as possible. ]

I'll find you a bedframe. We could probably duct tape all the junk on your floor together and make a garbage man bedframe.

[ W o w, being called messy by Wade Wilson. How the mighty have fallen. ]

... M'usually too busy scrambling to work back home to cuddle.

[AKA his ass was always late to everything.

Of course he was. Granted part of that was just by virtue of being worn down the night before fighting villains, but this is something Wade's not in the know about, thanks.]

It's not nice to call someone's stuff junk...

... Now your stuff, that's all junk.

[C:]

[ Wade's lower lip sticks out in a pout but his body shudders in another quiet laugh. ]

Name five things that are junk in my house.

[ GO ON THEN. ]

But before you do that: I'm decreeing that we've gotta work in morning cuddles at least once a week from here on out. This is nice. You're like a cuddly weighted blanket.

[ Kiss your house goodbye, much more of this and he'll be falling asleep. ]

Mm. Cuddles is fine. I can do cuddles.

[From his side snakes a floppy arm, and he holds up a finger, counting.]

... That one busted can-opener you refuse to throw out... maybe a couple of those lawn gnomes you're overcrowding the yard with... the crocs for sure... at least half of that tupperware... the Furby with Barbie legs...

[If you don't interrupt him, he'll keep listing things far after five.]

[ A disapproving sound comes from the back of Wade's throat -- unimpressed. His hand reaches out to grab Peter's bringing it to his lips to press kisses against his fingers. And between each kiss he speaks. ]

It has a bottle opener on the other end of it, it still has use!

[ 💋 ]

The gnomes add character to the neighbourhood.

[ 💋 ]

I need the crocs to feel like I'm walking on clouds. Also personal reasons. Also fashion.

[ 💋 ]

You never complain when I bring food over in that tupperware.

[ 💋 ]

The Furby was a gift.

[ He almost looks offended by that last one. ]

What's that? Did you hear a ding? I heard a ding.

[ No he didn't, he just wants this betrayal to end!!! ]

[He grins.]

Trying to get out of a cross-examination about your hoarding?

[He half-assedly wraps his arms around him and weaves a leg around Wade's.]

You can't escape, I've got you trapped — you're never gonna move from this spot again.

[ Wade squirms underneath him, but makes no real play to get free. He does however move his hands to either side of Peter and, oh, no. That one weakness, the one he'd discovered not too long ago. The one that rhymes with fickleish.

Hope you weren't tryina be comfortable, bud. Also be mindful of all elbows and knees for the love of fuck. ]

Objection! Cake!

[ Think of the cake, Peter! ]

Delicious, delicious cake.

[Peter absolutely jumps like a startled cat at the fingers-to-ribcage contact, falling backwards on the other end of the couch with a strangled noise of disapproval. With some luck and self-control, his instinct to crawl off into a corner of the ceiling is ignored. Thank god.]

Wade!

[He sounds absolutely scandalized.

He doesn't hesitate to push him with a foot to the chest, for good measure.]

Whoops?

[ Yeah, the mischievous grin isn't selling that whoops at all. Wade's fingers wrap around the ankle of the offending foot loosely. ]

I told you, cake! You wouldn't want me waking you up AND making your house smell like burnt cake.

[ And suddenly he's moving back into Peter's space, directing that possible kicky foot to the side so he can lean in enough to press a kiss to Peter's lips. As quickly as that happens, he's fleeing the couch to go check on the timer - impatiently. ]

Do you think if I cooked it at double the temperature I could half the time? That's how math works.

[He's so taken aback by the surprise kiss, he really has no rebuttal.

You win this round, you villain.]

You're asking the person who could burn water?

Me, Peter Parker, one of the worst cooks in New York City?

How are you bad at making food. Isn't it like... science? Apart from the witchcraft aspect of it. And the tender seducing part. But you're great at science and seduction.

[ Aw, those are like, genuine compliments. He's in a sweetieboy mood apparently. Enjoy it while you can, Peter. He's going to go harass the oven, y'know, open it look at the cake, sniff, close it. Maybe he'll even pout a little. Still too fuckin' goopy lookin'.

He makes a grumpy little displeased noise in the kitchen. This isn't going how he wanted it to go. He wanted to wake Peter up with cake and maybe a BJ. Who knows. This? Not going according to plan. It's okay though, he's not too bothered by it. When do his plans ever go according to plan? ]

Do you want a blowie before or after your cake?

[ Ah, yes, normal questions, Wade. Great job. That's probably one way to wake someone up, huh? ]

[A record skips in his head, and he looks baffled for a moment, sprawled disheveled and bleary on the couch in his pajamas.]

... Pardon?

[Maybe he misheard that. But mostly, maybe he should be used to Wade just throwing things out there with the same casualness one takes up when asking if they need to do the laundry.]

[ . . .

One day Peter will get used to Wade's casualness in most situations, but apparently today isn't that day. Wade wanders back from the oven to look at Peter, his own expression baffled. Does he suddenly sound as confused as Peter feels? ]

Unless you don't want one?

[ Last time they'd talked he'd been pretty gung-ho about the idea. Wade just assumed that hadn't changed. Maybe it had. Hello, 1001 reasons why Peter Parker has probably changed his mind about all this. Good to see that list again. ]

I... um. That's.

[Wow, he sure is forgetting English. He looks down at his pajama bottoms. Peter Jr. is definitely not up for breakfast. He's fast asleep, tucked under his blankets, oblivious to the world— God, these metaphors. Kill him. The idea of Wade trying to blow him only to find him unaroused is enough to make him a big ball of nerves.]

If you want to. I mean... I don't want you to do it just to make me feel good.

[ Look, Wade isn't even following that Peter is nervous about the fact that his pocket rocket isn't so rocket-y and more like a pocket limp noodle. And not the fun kind that you beat the shit out of people with in the pool. The kind that you throw at the wall to see if it's done. ]

I want to make you feel good. That's pretty high on my priorities. It's above going to another Céline Dion concert.

[ He seems to actually contemplate what he wants to say next, which is rare. ]

"No" and "Pythagorean Theorem" are also acceptable answers.

... No — I mean, yes! I just mean no, that I don't want to say no, I'm...

[He shrugs his shoulders, practically up to his ears, hair all wild and shirt rumpled.]

I just need a little more foreplay than 'do you want a blowie' if you're gonna get anywhere with mini-me, champ.

[ Wade stares at him with the whole effect of 'the lights are on but nobody's home' while he runs through that weird mashup of answers, and even a few seconds after. ]

Sorry -- I'm just ironing the mini-stroke I just had out in my head: that was a yes, right?

[ He asked if he wanted it before cake or after cake, not if he wanted one, well not at first!!! Maybe if he was fully following this conversation he'd make a quip about Peter sounding like every scoutmaster ever, but luckily, he's not. ]

The most convoluted yes in history, but a yes?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

... are threads suddenly going nsfw uh whoops?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject