quipsandthwips | Deerington Inbox

[ 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?

[............... good job pete]

Yes. It was a convoluted yes.

As long as this doesn't end up with my house catching fire from burning cake.

[Relenting, he crawls to sit with his elbows on the armrests, chin on his hands.]

... But now the most important challenge is: what can you do to get me turned on, first?

[ Wade's head tips to the side slightly, like he's weighing options in his head. ]

Challenge?

[ Well, when he puts it like that.. ]

That doesn't sound like a challenge; it sounds like a delight.

[ He starts to head over to Peter like he has a goal in mind, but then stops, a different and more thoughtful expression passing over his face. Ruh roh.]

What turns you on? [ Maybe it was a mistake to think the guy that had previously been with a prostitute would have a problem with prodding at kinks or finding any of it challenging. ] What's the naughty stuff on your browser history? We all know you have a thing for me in dresses. [ He doesn't actually know that. ] I didn't bring a dress. But that means it's not all the vanilla stuff that the Bambi eyes suggest. Can't fool me.

[He looks somewhat puzzled by the question.

What turns him on...?

Well, Wade didn't bring a dress. But also, he hasn't really put much thought into it before. Being scratched by someone's nails is kinda sexy. Hair-pulling? All of which he prefers happens to himself; it's never really sat right with him, to do it to his partner. Naughty stuff in his browser history...]

Pizza guy delivery porn?

... I'm kidding, please don't come to my door in a pizza guy outfit.

[Not that there isn't a porn clip in his history that involves delivery men. Lets be honest with ourselves.]

I don't know. I just like when whoever I'm with is into it.

[ With how much Peter likes pizza, he is 100% certain he appreciates pizza guy delivery porn. Even if the idea is shot down. Sad, that gets rid of all the dick in a box jokes he could make. Oh well.

It's not like Wade could judge him, there's a lot of weird shit in his internet history.

But, more importantly: Peter had not denied the dress thing. Interesting. Jotting that down to return to another day. Of course Peter has the sweetest answer possible to the question. Why is Wade even surprised by that. Even if it is a bit of a 'I'm too shy to talk about what I'm into' cop out.

He's back to making it his job to be in Peter's personal space, apparently, because he heads over to him, leaning down and in for a kiss that would probably make anyone else's back hate them for it. It's soft and sweet, which seems to be the theme of the morning, except when it ends with Wade's tongue swiping over Peter's bottom lip and then teeth biting into it just barely. It's fine, Peter, he'll just fling things at the wall and see what sticks. A grin is on his face as he pulls away slightly, Peter's lower lip between his teeth still before he lets it go.

He looks at Peter curiously before he starts manhandling him up against the other arm rest, giving himself room to climb between his legs. ]

Did you want to fuck me when I was playing nurse? [ Hello, more blunt questions. At this point Peter's going to start losing brain cells from sheer blunt force trauma. ] Is that why you made me take the dress off? [ Or, they could revisit the topic now.

It's like Dora the Explorer with Peter's kinks. Wade can dig it. ]

[He makes a startled little sound, but seems more interested and curious than anything else, as he pulls his knees up, lets Wade crowd in between his bent legs while he slouches back against the armrest. Alright, alright, he's here to see where this is going — clearing his throat:]

... Yeah.

[A pause. And surprisingly enough, he blushes, glancing aside.

Not wholly rare, him turning red, but hardly a common response in these situations.]

You look great in a dress.

[ Oh! Hello, blushy shy Peter, definitely skyrocketing to Wade's list of top favourite types of Peter. Wade's first instinct is disbelief; there's a kneejerk emotional reaction of distrust. But it's hard to follow that line of thought, or at least pay attention to it currently, when Peter is looking so embarrassed.

Well, might as well ruin his entire subconscious' career for the next couple nights, since Peter's definitely ruined Wade's. ] I would have let you.

[ He rests his hands on Peter's knees. ] But thanks, you really know how to make a gal feel pretty. [ Except he hadn't at the time. Not really.

Wade's hands slide up Peter's legs from his knees, to linger on his thighs before trailing further up as Wade turns the tables. The lizard suddenly becomes the basking rock. There's a sweet amount of trying not to squish Peter for someone who unknowingly can't actually squish the guy under him. He tilts Peter's chin up with a finger so he can mouth at an invisible path down Peter's throat. ] I'll wear them more often for you. [ Now that he actually knows what Peter's deal is, instead of hazarding a guess. ]

[He's still red as Wade kisses him across the neck, breathing out a soft moan at the thought of everything that Wade's currently putting into his head. Wade's not exactly corrupting the sweet vanilla angel who has never done anything remotely risque, but he has to admit that this self-discovery business is reminding him just how puritan he could be in his past relationships in contrast.]

... As long as there's no clown costumes involved, you can dress up in whatever you'd like.

[It's a dumb joke, but he's got a dumb brain right now, head stretched back and adam's apple bobbing. The idea of fucking Wade is making him all kinds of foggy and all kinds of hard under Wade's weight.]

[ Wade's not one to brag, but if he were he'd probably be thinking something like so much for a challenge but of course he'd never think that...

It's hard not to pay attention to Peter's reactions, even if he's trying not to let it distract him from his mission. If he didn't have a plan in mind, he'd probably stay there all day sucking on Peter's neck and trying to drive him crazy with his apparently very active imagination.

He squirms a bit to free Peter's pajama shirt so he can push it up him and bunch it under his collar bone. Collar bones that he is definitely going to take a minute to drag his teeth over when he makes it there.

The clown thing does make him snort. ]

I'm offended you don't think I could be a fuckable clown. [ He punctuates the sentence with a nip at Peter's skin in retaliation to the dumb joke. ] Like Jared Leto or Pennywise. [ A huff of air against Peter's clavicle is probably a good sign that that's also a joke. Wade wouldn't fuck a clown with Peter's dick, let alone his own. Look, he has to joke about this and think about Pennywise because Peter is getting him hot under the collar and this was supposed to be a surprise blowjob, then again, did he really think he'd be able to walk away from this without the bluest balls in existence? ]

Whatever I like? What about you? What would you like? [ The question is posed with the same nonchalance that he'd had when asking if Peter wanted a blowie. His weight shifts again, and he slides himself a little lower down Peter's body, still keeping contact against him, just so he can begin his trail down Peter's chest slowly. ]

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... are threads suddenly going nsfw uh whoops?

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