Be My Baby Boy

Le petit Mort

The next morning, well, later that same morning, Peter woke cradled by solid, warm arms holding him against a scarred, slightly sweaty chest. He smiled before he even opened his eyes, his heart lifting with joy. Peter raised his eyes and saw Wade looking at him like Peter was tacos and Bea Arthur and sex all rolled up in one.

"Good morning precious," Wade cooed. "You look adorable! So sleepy and cute."

"This is the first good sleep I've had since you left," Peter confessed and rubbed his still sticky eyes.

"Wore you out, did I?" Wade asked happily. "Sooo-o.... Do you have anything to do today?" Wade flipped them around so that Peter landed on his back.

"Can't remember anything," Peter said, all thoughts flying out of his head as Wade's wet tongue started exploring his clavicles and then made lazy swoops over Peter's chest, each one lower than the previous one, like gentle waves cresting lower each time. "Nothing at all." Peter was young, fit, and while his own recovery power was maybe nothing to Wade's it was still a lot faster than normal humans.

"Mmm yummy...." Wade murmured and licked Peter's already hard cock like a candy cane. "Sugar and salt and everything mine..."

Peter's birthday was off to an excellent start.

Afterward, Wade kissed Peter on his nose. "Stay there cup cakes, I'll be back in a second." The second turned into a minute, then several more and then there was an intriguing sizzling noise. Finally a sugary scent drifted into the bedroom which was soon followed by Wade, holding a platter of pancakes oozing with maple syrup and a birthday candle in the shape of number 18.

"Pancakes?"

"Only the best for my baby boy. It's real maple syrup, too, from Canada. None of this awful stuff you heathens call maple syrup," Wade pronounced and scooched into bed, holding the birthday pancake adroitly aloft.

When Wade was settled, he pulled a lighter from thin air and lit the candle. "Make a wish."

Peter's eyes crinkle with joy and he blowed out the candle, keeping his yes on Wade the whole time. Make this last forever, he wished silently.

Wade wouldn't let Peter eat himself, but fed him one yummy forkful at a time, stealing several for himself, until the stack was gone. Afterwards they lay in bed, fitting together like two weird puzzle pieces, filling each other in on what had happened over the year they had missed. 

Peter had graduated, come out to his aunt, gone back to patrolling as Spider-Man even though it made Peter's heart hurt every time he pulled his suit on. There'd be no one to make him laugh, no one's hand squeezing his butt at inappropriate times, no one who would steal the last taco on the rooftop they shared. He'd received his admission letter to the New York University just earlier that week. He was going to study all the scientific and engineering courses he could cram in.

"You kinda skipped over some pretty important parts there, Petey-pie."

"Like what?" Peter asked innocently.

"Like going to space. Fighting an army of million aliens. Stuff like that."

"Oh, you know about that?" Peter asked nervously.

Wade's eyeroll was epic. "I wasn't the one who was in space, Peter. It might have been a scummy hellhole but it had wifi. Just because I couldn't be with you didn't mean I didn't want to know what was happening with you." 

Wade pulled out an iPad from his suitcase and showed Peter. Picture after picture of Spider-Man in action sourced from newspapers and blogs and article after article arguing back and forth whether he was a super hero or a vigilante. Everything Peter's more famous alter ego had done. And finally, candid images of Peter Parker.