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As usual, the chase began before Wade got a chance to patrol with normal, relatively docile Peter. It began before he greeted his boyfriend at all. It began before he left their apartment.
Wade climbed the scaffolding up the side of their second-favorite meet up building and, when he spotted his little wall-crawler perched upside-down on the other side beneath the rickety plywood and metal and plastic contraption New York City called "construction", waved both hands excitedly and started to call out.
And then Spidey--not Peter--feinted dropping to the floor beneath him but moved behind a crossbeam instead, shooting a--clear and slower than the mechanical version, definitely organic--web in Wade's direction.
"Hello to you too!" Wade called, easily dodging the web and ducking the next before bodily throwing himself from the scaffolding onto the adjacent rooftop. He didn't exactly stick the landing but he maintained enough forward momentum to sprint to the other side, Spidey silent on his heels, and front handspring his way to the next roof.
"You're off your game, baby boy," Wade teased over his shoulder. Another web hit the roof inches from Wade and he darted in the other direction, Spidey scrambling to follow. "Usually you get me at least once by now, steal one of my girls or a gun. You didn't even--"
Spidey had gained on him and Wade saw him just in the corner of his eye, too far to get a hand on Wade but close enough to end the game too soon. Wade took two steps to the right and pulled Arthur--Spidey hesitated at the glint of steel and bought Wade time to leave that rooftop and barely conceal himself behind a series of HVACs to drop to the ground below instead of hitting the other roof.
Wade heard Spidey fail to course correct and land hard on top of the next building and he winced, wasting a moment to hope his bug was okay. He and Spidey hadn't played this game in a while, long enough to put Spides out of practice.
Peter's controlled predator was a strategist, able to predict Wade's next move enough times in one chase that eventually he scored a clean catch. Then they'd spar properly a bit before Peter tired himself out and wanted to head home to eat and rest.
Pure instinct-driven Spidey had half the tactics and five times the raw, animal desperation to capture Wade, dead or alive. Once Wade had to save Spidey from drowning when he somehow fumbled ending the chase and ended up in the East River. He'd lost an arm for his troubles but the experience shook Spidey enough that he went pliant instead of tearing Wade completely to shreds.
Neither Peter nor Spidey had any read on Wade through their Spidey-sense and Wade always had that upper hand.
Wade, trying and failing to ignore the distressingly viscous wetness beneath his feet in the airshaft he'd dropped into, thanked everything he loved that whatever had triggered Spidey's instincts today happened while he was already wearing his red and blue suit. Black suit Spidey would be a complete shadow in this part of the city at this time of night and Wade didn't exactly hone his own predator instincts before he showed up to patrol today.
He sheathed Arthur and then silently searched the darkness for a door or staircase. He found a door, unlocked, that had a mesh window--luckily he heard street traffic. Opening and closing the door without waking the neighbors was a tricky business but then he jogged down the short passageway underneath the building and popped out catty-corner to the street he'd started on.
The game wasn't exactly fair if Wade stuck to street level, though. Peter could easily navigate the twists and turns and underground tunnels of the city so sometimes their chase ended up more of a hide and seek broken up by frantic periods of Wade trying to find a new spot before Peter rolled up on him.
Spidey flung himself around like a bull in a china shop. Not to be trusted around the hoi polloi--the last thing Peter needed was waking up and learning his and Wade's innocent "tire Pete out" game ended with collateral damage.
Wade carefully made his way up to a reasonably high rooftop for the area and spent a moment doing Spidey reconnaissance. Then he used his grappling hook to get twice as high--still no Spidey.
He'd almost reached a point of worry, wondering what Spidey got himself caught up in, and then two distinctive thwips had him sighing in relief.
"Lost ya, didn't I? Not bad for ol' Deadpool," Wade said smugly, mostly to himself, since Spidey wasn't really in a mood to chat. Now that Spidey followed on his heels again, Wade took a split second to consider his next move: up, or down?
Wade interrupting the flow of the chase with deception and strategy must have frustrated the shit out of Spidey, because before Wade could even step foot off the roof ledge Spidey tackled him off it instead.
They were in free fall long enough that Wade pushed away and attempted to reorient himself but he also confirmed that yeah, Spidey was pissed off. He finally hit Wade in the chest with a web--impossible to dodge, impressive--and pulled him upward, throwing him back onto the roof they'd started on.
Spidey didn't do any graceful acrobatic moves or attempt a Spider-Man-worthy entrance. He immediately landed on top of Wade, hard, definitely snapping half his ribcage, and started to tear at his suit.
No, yeah, no. This makes sense, Wade thought, half amused and half terrified (he couldn't quite turn off the pure animal "mortal fear" switch where Spidey was concerned, regardless of his own personal immortality).
Wade shook off his concussion enough to listen to what Spidey hissed frantically as he ripped the top of Wade's suit down the middle and began to tear at his pants.
"Wade, no, no, no, Wade? Wade, no? No?"
Only Wade Wilson could feel fond of the huge spider person pinning him down and shredding cloth and skin alike with its bare hands, moments from literally and figuratively devouring him. Peter didn't have a choice in giving Spidey free reign once he got triggered but something of his personality bled through.
Peter must have drilled into his own head that biting and dismembering and eviscerating after a chase were firm greens for Wade, but if he wanted sex he needed permission. If Wade said no, that meant no. And now his horny, mindless, itty-bitty Spidey was both reminding himself of his lessons and asking permission from Wade as best he could.
Wade didn't move--he couldn't, even though he really wanted to touch Spidey's face at that moment--but he did say, "Yes, baby. Yes, yes, yes."
Spidey growled and finished splitting Wade's suit down the middle, grabbing his dick entirely too hard and pumping it frantically, dry and painful. Wade took deep breaths through his reformed lungs and concentrated on Spidey, pleasing Spidey, enduring truly the least excruciating pain in his life to be perfect prey for his feral boy.
Wade's dick hardened to a satisfactory level in under a minute and Spidey let it go, pain pain pain turning into numbness as Wade healed, to rip at his own suit. Wade already anticipated how pissed off Peter would be about replacing it but his spandex two-piece cost a fraction of Wade's leather and kevlar suit and he never cared about destroying them.
One of Wade's never ending thought cycles continued that thread while the rest of him watched Spidey with excitement. He'd opened a hole between his legs and crawled up from Wade's shins where he had kneeled and jacked Wade off like he was stripping paint to now straddle Wade’s hips.
"Yes, Spidey," Wade confirmed again, unable to choose whether to stare at Spidey's already dripping cunt or the fanged mouth he'd revealed when he sloppily pulled his mask up. "Fuck, Spides, you're so fuckin' hot like this, I'd let you put a billion spider babies in me."
Wade stupidly moved his hands to Spidey's hips, trying to help him as he lowered himself on Wade's cock, and got two broken wrists for his efforts. Spidey slammed them both back down to the roof on either side of him, squeezing them hard enough Wade felt the bones grinding together in his teeth, and sure Wade shouted but that fucking hurt!
Spidey didn't like moving and he definitely didn't like shouting. He released one of Wade's wrists to open-hand slap his palm over Wade’s masked mouth instead, almost giving him another concussion in the process.
"Wade, mmmngh," Spidey groaned when he sank down to the base of Wade's dick, his insides gripping almost as hard as his hands.
Wade mumbled something back, muffled but unintelligible regardless, his eyes rolling back in his head. Another half inch and Spidey would have his mouth and nose covered and while Spidey didn't give a flying fuck if he died, he might be a little mad when Wade's erection wilted. He tried to keep still so Peter didn't shift his hand and start to suffocate him and if he'd ever faced a Herculean task--
Spidey made low, mindless sounds while he fucked himself on Wade's dick. Despite the gravel digging into his knees and odd angle he moved at a steady rhythm, only rising halfway before dropping himself back down with cute huffs of effort, biting down into his own lip with his elongated canines.
Wade wished he could see the rest of his face--when Peter fucked him like this, nice and pedestrian in their comfy bed or on some other disgusting rooftop some other day, he always had his eyes on Wade's face, gauging his responses. Something told Wade that Spidey didn't give a fuck about his responses at all.
That meant Spidey didn't give two shits about getting Wade off, either. His moans reached a higher pitch and he sat up, releasing the points he held on Wade to press down hard on his diaphragm instead. He rolled his hips, machine rhythmic, making a mess of hairline fractures in Wade’s pelvis every time he slammed back down and moaned in ecstasy.
"Take it, baby, take what you need," Wade said under his breath, not moving, not interrupting Spidey's steady ascent. "Pretty, gorgeous, yes baby just like that--"
Spidey got impossibly tighter when he came, still moving at the same pace, whining and trembling out his satisfaction. He kept fucking himself hard regardless of his walls gripping Wade's dick like he wanted to tear it off. Moments later he dropped his head forward and dug his fingers into Wade's chest, breaking skin, sobbing Wade's name and drooling through his fangs as he came again.
Spidey moaned sweet and soft, rocking just as gently until his desperation faded. Then he adjusted his legs, raised himself off of Wade with a sinfully wet sound, and plopped his ass onto the roof beside Wade's legs before dropping onto his back.
Wade took that opportunity to grab his dick, half-healed wrist be damned. Much more important to jack himself off with the fresh memory of his name through Spidey's lips in mind, the feeling of his hot, too tight cunt, the fantasy of dying at Spidey's hand while Spidey came on his dick.
Wade's orgasm hurt. He felt some fleeting pleasure at the peak but mostly his dick and wrist and skull protested all his extra movement. At the end of it, spent and sticky and bloody, Wade took a deep breath and sighed it out through his mouth.
In a few minutes Wade would dress himself and Spidey in the opaque ponchos he'd started keeping in his pouches in case of Spidey-related emergencies and carry his exhausted spider home. He would clean the both of them up, try to get some calories into Peter before he really dropped off to sleep, and spend the rest of the night wrapped in Peter’s arms in their bed.
"Okay, Spidey?" he mumbled without lifting his head.
Spidey didn't answer. Before Wade could ask again or sit up and take a look, Spidey entered his field of view, crawling up to him in his preternaturally silent way and flopping down with his head on Wade's chest.
Wade huffed a laugh and dared to rest a hand on Spidey's hip. Tamed again but it definitely wouldn't stick. At least Wade kept all his extremities this time.