Holding Back - 11. Chapter 11

Wade swallows, the taste of cum salty and bitter-sweet on his tongue, and hums appreciatively.

Kink list entry #3458: Semen.

Mmm, semen . . .

Wade ignores the voices in his head, and instead looks down at Peter, who’s staring up at him from where he’s sprawled on the couch, wide-eyed and panting. He looks dishevelled, his fringe sticking to his sweaty forehead and hair sticking up at the back. He’s never looked more gorgeous. His pupils are blown and he blinks slowly.

‘Sorry!’ he says suddenly, coming back to his senses and sitting up. ‘Oh, God! Sorry, sorry, sorry!’

‘What for?’ Wade asks.

‘I, I should have warned you or, or . . .’ Peter looks away. If he were a puppy his ears would be drooping in shame. It’s adorable. ‘I feel like such a kid.’

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,’ says Wade flatly. ‘And you’re not a kid. That would be gross. Anyway, the whole point was to make you cum, duh.’ He watches Peter’s face flush scarlet with great relish and grins at him, shaking his head. ‘You are so hot!’

I still say we’re dreaming. Shit like this just doesn’t happen to us.

I dunno. Semen tasted pretty real to me.

‘Shut up,’ Wade mutters, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

Peter appears to have regained some of his composure, however, because he’s smiling shyly again now, and soon he’s kissing Wade once more, greedily licking into his mouth, and his hands make their way down Wade’s body, touching him through the fabric of his suit.

‘Well, then I guess I should return the favour,’ he murmurs. Without ceremony, he unbuckles Wade’s belt and slips his hand down his pants, groping, and Wade hisses, closing his eyes.

‘Fuck, Peter . . .’

‘I’m not . . .’ Peter seems to hesitate. ‘I mean, I’ve never—’ He makes a frustrated noise and gives Wade’s dick a few loose strokes. ‘I don’t think I can do more than this for now, I’m sorry.’

Wade shakes his head. ‘Sorry? Ain’t no sorry, Petey, this is awesome. I mean, shit . . .’ His breath hitches. The touch of Peter’s hand feels like the good kind of fire, strong and intense, and so hot. Then Peter rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading pre-cum over it, and Wade lets out a loud, drawn out, ‘Fuck!’

His hips buck, and Peter presses his lips to his throat, teeth scraping over his Adam’s apple. Wade isn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he reaches out for the boy before him, sliding one hand into his hair and touching that beautiful face with the other. He brings Peter’s face close and kisses him.

There is so much kissing going on, like when do we get to the fucking?

When Spidey’s good and ready for it. This is his show. And we’re about to cum, anyway.

We are? When?

Right about . . . Now!

Wade shudders and groans, jizz spilling out of him, covering Peter’s hands and staining the suit. Peter is gaping at him, as though astonished that he could make that happen. When it’s over, and Wade has relaxed somewhat, Peter lifts his hand curiously to his mouth, licks at a strand of semen, and makes a face.

Wade laughs breathlessly. ‘Acquired taste.’

‘Mm.’ Peter wipes his hand on his t-shirt. Then he stands up, pulling his pants back on, and walks over to the kitchen counter to get a roll of paper towels. He grabs a few and hands the roll to Wade, and they clean themselves up a little. Then they sit back down on the couch. Their glasses of orange soda are still sitting on the coffee table, hardly touched.

‘So, that was pretty awesome,’ says Wade, to break the silence. ‘I mean, wow. You give good hand jobs, dude.’

Peter chuckles softly. ‘I’m glad you approve. I mean, I wanted to . . .’ His cheeks turn slightly pink. ‘Well. Next time.’

Wade feels a jolt go through his stomach and chest. ‘So, there’s gonna be a next time?’ he asks, his voice a little higher than he means it to be.

‘If you want to,’ says Peter softly, looking intently at his glass.

Wade laughs. ‘You’re seriously asking me that? Man, I can’t even . . . Petey-Pie, you’re the hottest, most awesome person I’ve ever been around. Shit, if I had my way I’d never do anything other than make out with you.’

‘Yeah?’ Peter glances at him with his hazel eyes and smiles. ‘It was pretty awesome,’ he admits after a moment. ‘I mean, God, your mouth . . .’

‘They don’t call me the Merc with the Mouth for nothing,’ Wade shrugs.

While that’s true, I don’t think our mad blow-job skills were first on people’s minds when they came up with that particular moniker.

Well, it will be now.

Peter bites his lip. ‘So . . . You’ve been with a lot of guys, then?’

Wade scoffs. ‘Have you seen me, baby boy? You think I get laid a lot?’ He pauses. The truth is he has no idea how many people he’s been with, of either gender. Pre-Weapon X, his memories are still hazy, and post he still hasn’t figured out exactly which memories are real and which were put in his head by Butler, or how many the Tabula Rasa drug has made him forget. He’s paid for sex more than a few times, out of loneliness or sheer frustration. He knows that’s true, because the trail of money is easy to follow.

He sighs. ‘Look. I flirt with people, and I’m good at it, but usually, once I show my face, people run for the hills, right? I’ve got no illusions about what I look like. I used to have this holo imager thing that could make me look normal for a bit, purely cosmetic, but I lost it ages ago. Wish I could give you something nicer to look at than this mug.’ He smiles sardonically.

Peter just shakes his head, though. ‘Don’t even talk like that. In case it hadn’t already occurred to you, I couldn’t care less about any of that. I think you’re totally hot!’ He reaches out and cups Wade’s scarred cheek. ‘You gotta believe me, Wade.’

Wade swallows, and when he speaks it’s with a lump in his throat, and he thinks his voice sounds weird. ‘I’d probably believe anything you say, except maybe that.’

‘Well, then I’ll just have to make you believe,’ Peter murmurs and leans in to kiss him again.

* * *

Entering his apartment at five in the morning, after talking and making out and just hanging with Peter all night, Wade immediately and instinctively knows that something isn’t quite right. He halts in the doorway, searching the darkened room.

We’re not alone.

There’s something—someone—on his couch, sitting quietly in the dark. Wade reaches back for the hilt of one of his blades with his right hand and flicks the light on with his left. He relaxes his grip on his sword as the light reveals the figure on the sofa.

‘Wade,’ says a deep, growling voice.

Wade closes the door behind him and saunters over to the battered old fridge in the corner of the room. The actual kitchen is a bio hazard zone and he hasn’t been in there since he moved in. He takes out two beers and tosses one to his guest, who catches it effortlessly.

‘Logan,’ he says at last, twisting the cap off his bottle. ‘Long time, no see. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’

Wolverine takes a sip of his beer, making a grimace. He’s in civvies, jeans and a tank top under an open, grey and black checkered flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks like a short, furry lumberjack. ‘I was in the neighbourhood. Thought I’d drop in, see how you were doing.’

Oh, sure. Wolverine just wanted to ‘drop in’.

‘Oh, I’m just peachy!’ Wade grins, leaning against the wall. ‘How are you? How’s that charming, homicidal son of yours?’

Logan sets down his beer and rests his elbows on his knees. ‘Still homicidal.’

‘Good for him! Now, enough with the small talk. Why are you really here?’

Logan scratches the back of his head and sighs dramatically. ‘Why do I ever seek you out on purpose? There’s trouble brewin’, Wade, and I’m pretty sure it’s comin’ your way.’

Ooh, trouble! We like trouble!

Little bit of trouble never hurt anyone with a healing factor as sick as ours.

Wade snorts and takes a swig of his beer. ‘That’s it? There’s always someone after me, Logan. Wouldn’t have it any other way. It keeps things interesting. What, did someone order a hit on me again?’

Logan shrugs one shoulder. ‘Dunno. Haven’t checked. What I do know is I fought a guy a few days ago who had some interesting things to tell me regarding Weapon X, that there are serious anti-mutant and mutate vibes going on, that mutants are losing their powers all over the place, and that shit storms like this always seem to catch up with you sooner or later. Thought I’d give you a heads up.’

Wade raises an eyebrow and smirks. ‘So, what, it’s team-up time again?’

Logan scoffs. ‘Hell no. I got my own shit to deal with, and you seem to have a decent team-up going on right now anyway.’

Wade grins. ‘Yeah, Spidey’s been teaching me to be a hero!’

Logan raises a bushy eyebrow. ‘That so?’

‘Yeah. And he’s got my back if shit blows up. I’m not too worried.’

‘You sure about that?’ Wolverine sniffs the air. ‘Smells to me like you got someone else to worry about for once, even if you’re not worried about yourself. You say he’s got your back, but have you got his? Unless my senses are failin’ me, you got Spider-Man’s scent all over you.’

Uh-oh. Busted!

Wade looks away. ‘Whatevs! You have any idea how creepy that smell thing of yours is?’

Logan shrugs. ‘Jussayin’. As someone who’s been straddling the hero-villain fence for most of your life, you’re the embodiment of what these anti-mutant assholes fear the most; heroes going bad.’

‘But I’m not even a mutant! I’m a mutate!’

‘Think those fuckers know that, or care? And as long as this little team-up of yours continues, you’re putting Spider-Man at risk, too.’

‘Yeah, well . . . If you’re so worried about all this, you should go talk to your Dark Avenger boy about it, Logan. He oughta be a prime target.’

‘Already done. Why’d you think I was in New York in the first place?’ Logan drains his beer bottle in a few gulps and stands up. ‘Well, it was nice catchin’ up. Go easy on the kid, won’t you? Seen him fight. He’s good people.’

Wade’s expression softens. ‘Yeah. He is.’

Logan gives him a non-committal wave and saunters over to the door. Wade watches him go, eyes narrowed. Logan wouldn’t show up unless he actually thinks it’s important. Wade knows that, and the thought makes him uneasy.

So, should we be worried?

No! We’re not worried! Are we?

‘Not worried,’ says Wade slowly. ‘Just . . . cautious. Best keep my eyes open.’

And watch Peter’s back a little extra.

Yeah, but we do that anyway. His back is right above is ass.

True dat.

Wade sighs and shakes his head. No use worrying about it all right now. He hasn’t slept in a few days. Now might be a good time to catch some shut-eye.