Chapter Text
Peter takes bereavement leave for the rest of the semester and all of his Avengers PTO at once. He goes to every party Harry throws, all of Gwen’s shows and Mary Jane’s matinees. He goes to Aunt May’s for dinner once a week. He could swear he feels a little wiggling in his spine now and then, but nothing beyond that.
So he starts to work through a list of everything he’s ever heard of other people doing for fun. He goes to Riis Beach, to a Mets game, to late night comedy shows and sunrise yoga meditations. He blows through the best video games of the year for the last five years, Pulitzer picks, Grammy winners, Emmy winners, the Razzies. He tries club drugs, he tries the best food trucks in the city, he tries weird Cosmo sex positions, he tries acupuncture.
He gets hung over, de-stressed, enlightened, spaced out, strung out, wrung out, and stretched out, which for Spiderman is saying a lot. He’s really, really trying.
Nothing happens. He doesn’t feel any alien activity in his spine or commentary in his head.
He goes out with Wade to the mutant cubs and bars. Not the “freaksploitation” ones-- Wade is very adamant about this. Wade knows all the dives, all the strippers, all the ways to cheat at billiards. Peter loses a bunch of money to Wade. Peter learns how to tango from Wade. Peter does a body shot off of Wade’s scarred belly button.
They’re meandering out to the bus stop after this shot, Wade with his head on top of Peter’s and his arms draped over his shoulders. Peter’s a bit drunk, although he’s not sure if that will help Venom or not right now.
“Any news from the big guy?” Wade asks, as they stop at a crosswalk.
“No,” Peter says glumly. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried manifesting.”
“You’ve gotta stick an incense stick up your ass as you do it. They don’t tell you that, but it works.”
Peter sighs. Then he turns and buries his face in Wade’s tits.
“The Asguardians haven’t come up with any way to kill a Klyntar yet,” Wade says.
“I know,” Peter mutters into a pec.
“Have you been doing things that spark joy joyfully or, y’know,” Wade says, seems like he’s going to continue, but then doesn’t.
“What?” Peter asks, suspicious, and squints up at Wade.
“The Peter way?”
“Which way?” Peter glares. Then he gets his hands under Wade’s thighs and picks him up, while also glaring at him. “Which way is that?”
Wade giggles. It’s a little nervous. He’s also half-hard against Peter’s ribs. Weirdo.
“Like it’s a competition.”
“I do not do everything like it’s a competition.”
“Like its a job. Like you’re being watched. Like--hey!”
Peter does a little jiggle and pretends to drop Wade, Wade gets a full-body bear-hug around Peter. They’re kind of blocking foot traffic and Peter is getting a couple of stares, swinging a dude twice his size around, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t actually feel like he’s under a microscope tonight. He almost never feels like that when he’s with Wade.
“You want to go back to my place?” he asks. It’s kind of a non-sequitor, but they’ve been circling this for weeks, maybe since they met, and he wants it.
“Uh, yes??” Wade says.
They almost don’t make it back to Peter’s apartment. Half-way there Wade sees a coathanger in a gutter and like the gentleman he is, offers pop the lock on a parked car so they can fuck in the back seat. The only thing that saves some stranger’s upholstery is that Peter’s strap is back at his apartment.
Most of Peter’s most erotic moments have happened in the streets of this city, but he can’t even feel that bad about it, not when they finally get back and he turns around from getting it on to see Wade on his bed. Wade’s hooked one arm around the back of his knee and pulling it back so he can open himself up with the other hand and Peter’s lube.
Peter leans his chest very gently onto Wade’s raised foot. Wade’s eyes flick over to him, he’s going pink a little already, his fingers squelching in and out. Peter leans forward a little more to push Wade’s leg up further. Wade hisses some air out between his teeth.
Peter watches Wade’s hole shine and flex under his own fingers. Getting a guy Peter’s had a crush on and has leveled a deadly weapon at him into his bed and hurriedly working himself open for Peter is making his brain prickle. It’s better than the drugs and the yoga and that part of Breath of the Wild where you get the paraglider.
“Worried I won’t be gentle with you?” he asks, a little husky.
Wade shoots him a disapproving look.
“Whatever Venom said, I’ve had a lot of super normal sex,” Peter says, and runs a finger down the back of Wade’s thigh. “We don’t have to remove any of your body parts or anything.”
“V never makes good choices,” Wade says darkly.
Peter leans back off Wade’s leg to find the lube and then shooes away Wade’s hands. He bites his lip as his fingers sink into the warmth of Wade’s ass. He buries his face in Wade’s pecs again and starts kissing his way down towards his cock. When he reaches the second-to-last rib, something is twitches in the middle of his chest.
He stops, and it stops.
Wade raises an eyebrow at him.
“Not sure,” Peter says, to the unspoken question. After another second of waiting, he dips his head down to suck lingeringly on the head of Wade’s cock. Then he straightens up and presses the head of his strap against Wade’s hole. “How’s that?”
Wade huffs a little, something like a flush climbing up his face. “Good, baby. You want me to beg? C’mon.”
“I think we can do better than good,” Peter says, and there’s that feeling again, stretching from under his collarbone, down towards his bellybutton.
Peter gets Wade’s leg over his shoulder and starts to thrust into him in slow, gradual moves. Peter picked one of his bigger straps, remembering how Wade looked on the plane, but he has to take his time now.
He’s halfway there when the first tentacle drops out of his chest and then zig zags across Wade’s skin and sinks in.
“Okay,” Peter breathes. Venom isn’t talking to him, but it’s definitely there. Then, in what Peter can only assume is what it feels like to be a car and get your battery jumped, there’s a hard jerk and he’s plugged into Wade’s brain, the cacophony of voices distant for once, under an sea of want.
Peter sucks in a deep breath and pushes into a suddenly just-loose enough Wade. There’s more tentacles dripping out of him, curling down his skin and Wade’s, when they hit Wade they go serrated, drag and constrict. One nooses loosely around Peter’s neck. Not doing anything yet, but present.
Peter bottoms out in Wade and jams his mouth down on Wade’s. The voices erupt in his head.
V!
V for Vendetta!
Is that fucking alien fucking us?
Spiderman is fucking us, dude, be cool!
Hello, everyone.
Hey, Killer, Peter throws in, just for good measure. He slides back and then in again. Venom is starting to make minute adjustments to both of them, resetting one of Peter’s feet, straightening Wade’s back out. Peter hikes Wade’s other knee over his shoulder and straightens up, dragging Wade’s lower half of his body off the bed. Wade whimpers and Venom threads itself through his fingers, cinches his hands together behind his back.
Peter hovers a little, not fucking all the way into Wade, and lets Venom finish running it’s sharp-edged tentacles all over Wade.
“There were so many opportunities to do this before,” Peter says, half-regretful,
half-annoyed.
Wade is mostly just making noises at this point.
Venom feels incredibly smug. A little faint, maybe, but smug. Then it turns Peter’s g-spot inside out. That’s the only thing Peter can think to compare it to.
Peter must scream, because the neighbors start banging on his wall. Peter does not care. He slides home in Wade. And then again, and again. Every one of his nerves is burning, buzzing, and he thinks Wade might be crying. Peter leans forward and Wade folds up under him like paper. Peter buries his face in Wade’s neck and scrapes half his face on a sharp edge of Venom. Wade’s dick is tight between them, hot and twitching, he must be so, so close.
“Wade,” Peter starts to say, but he doesn’t get that far. The burning in his body crests and he disconnects, kicks into low orbit, cums. He’s squeezing Wade in something that’s half-hug, half-wrestling hold, and Wade’s legs clamp tight around Peter’s ears and he cums too, wet and warm between their bellies.
Peter goes limp on top of Wade. Wade slides his legs off Peter’s shoulders and goes limp too. Venom eases off of everyone until it’s just a single thread between Peter’s forehead and Wade’s jaw.
“We should’ve done this way earlier,” Wade says. “Just for the record.”
“Yeah, I know,” Peter says.
Venom snuggles down into Peter’s chest and doesn’t say anything. Peter can tell it’s pleased, though.