It had been a week and a half since Clint found out about the babies and Peter was pleasantly surprised that nothing had greatly changed between them.
Sure, Clint treated him like more of an adult now, but that was a happily welcomed surprise, in his opinion.
The others had seemed to catch on to how Clint was acting and, apart from his dads, they had all started treating him like an adult, as well.
It was nice to be viewed like that, for one, Bruce let him help with more interesting projects. They had worked on a gamma equation just a few days ago and Bruce had allowed him to stay while he tested it- that never happened before. Thor had taken to calling him either by his actual name or by 'Man of Stark'. No more, 'Stark Son' or 'Son of Rodgers'.
Bucky hadn't acted any differently, he had always treated him like a grown up and that hadn't changed. His eyes were still happy when they spoke and Peter felt relieved that he could rely on the man for some median of normalcy.
Natasha had been the last to change. And that change was so minuscule that it was probably not noticeable to anyone else. She often spoke to him in Russian, when the others were around. Sure, Clint knew a bit, but it really did feel like their own little secret language. She had been short-tempered and snappish with Clint, meaning that obviously he'd refused to tell her why he was treating Peter differently. She had taken a few days, but she had began calling him Peter, when they spoke. No more 'little one', as she always used to say.
It was sort of refreshing, if he were being honest. He felt like they were finally beginning to see him as someone who could make valid contributions to things, someone who they could take seriously and value his opinion. That's all he'd ever wanted from them.
He looked at the pod of web, sitting in his lap, and smiled. He could see through the webbing. It was a perk of being a spider, that he knew where to look and had enhanced eyes that could find gaps in the fibres. He could see that the eggs had just over doubled in size, making him think back to a booklet he'd read on child development, the previous week. He could see what they meant about how the baby or babies would suddenly get much larger in the last month.
His oldest was at 39 and a half weeks, while his youngest was at 36 and a half weeks. It had surprised both him and Wade, when he had Jarvis scan them for an update on their growth, only to discover that their baby girl had overtaken her little brother.
The sizes of the eggs reflected this and, while he was confident in her development being on par with her oldest two brothers', he was now worried about the size of his youngest son.
Their oldest baby boy was at 39 and a half weeks, the second oldest was at 39 weeks, as well as their little girl, but their youngest boy was only just at 36 and a half weeks. It worried him and he was beginning to realise that their youngest may be born a bit prematurely.
He hadn't wanted to consider it a possibility, what with how fast they grew, but he knew that their growth was going to be slowing considerably just before they were born and that time looked to be coming within the next couple of days.
He placed his hand over where the smallest egg was and channelled his hearing to the youngest, picking up on the rapid beating of his heart.
He held his other hand over the largest and turned his hearing to that one next, hearing a steadier heartbeat- though still as fast as any baby.
"What you doing?" He heard behind himself. He turned from his position on the foam floor and looked at the man leaning in the doorway, watching him.
"Nothing." He replied, stroking the pod, hearing the man waking closer.
"I know you're worried," he said, crouching behind him and pulling him against his chest, "but they'll all be fine. They're 50% each of us. I'll bet they're tougher than you're giving them credit."
Peter hummed and leant back onto his chest, using it as a cushion while he continued to stroke the hard pod.
"I know that, Wade. I'm just worrying that our little Holden will be premature."
Wade hugged him around the waist and draped himself over his back, his face burying into his neck.
"And if he is, we'll take special care of him until he's big and strong like his siblings."
Peter nodded and closed his eyes, basking in the warm presence of his boyfriend and the sound of four little hearts- one beating slightly faster than the rest.
They had spent the past week coming up with baby names, randomly saying them to each other when they thought of a new one.
Wade had suggested things like: Wolverine, Logan, Steve, Xavier, Rogue and Sylvester. Notice anything?
While Peter had been suggesting names like: Susan, Penelope, George, Luke, Auden and Caleb.
They hadn't been getting anywhere and then Wade had randomly showed up one day with a list of 200+ cute baby names. When asked, he told Peter that he'd had the guys at work write the list for them. 'Work' meaning that he'd gone down to The Hell House and literally had every mercenary write down baby names on a long piece of paper.
He and Peter had sat down and, after several hours, had decided on four names; they chose the names, Felix, Chester, Nova and Holden.
Peter could remember meeting Weasel once. He had been following Deadpool- wanting to see what he was up to- and had seen him duck around behind a bar.
He had followed him through the back entrance to find a packed room, full of mercenaries and hookers. Deadpool had been over by the bar and he'd crawled across the ceiling, dropping down behind the owner.
Deadpool had seen him but said nothing to the man, watching as he turned and let out a surprised shout when he saw the vigilante crouched behind him.
Everyone had been on immediate alert, reaching for their guns, while Deadpool had just been watching him silently, a grin stretching out the material of his mask.
The merc had held up his hand, to stop everyone for a moment while they had had a quick conversation, he had hopped effortlessly over the bar and sat beside the other, masked man. Deadpool had introduced him to the owner, telling him that they were friends, while he shook the man's hand.
Weasel was a funny little man. For all that he owned the bar, he wasn't all that tough. He didn't need to be. He had all the others there to protect him. No one wanted Weasel to get hurt, he was their ticket to a safe house and their connection to the jobs.
Peter stood from Wade's arms and placed the pod back in the middle of the room, surrounded by a ring of heaters.
"It's getting late. We should head to bed." He held his hand out and Wade accepted it to help himself up.
~~~~~~~~~~
"You had me hooked again from the minute you sat down~! The way you bite your lip, got ma' head spinnin' a'round~! Af-ter a drink, or two, you were putty in my haaand~"
Was what Peter woke up to, the next morning.
He turned over and opened his eyes slowly, feeling the empty indent on the left side of the bed, where Wade should have still been sleeping.
"Ugh! Wade~" he groaned, his senses coming back to him in a sudden rush of sound and loud singing.
He tilted his chin to his chest, glaring at the partially opened bathroom door.
The singing continued.
He allowed his head to drop back onto his pillow, groaning again and rolling tiredly onto the floor.
He pulled himself up and stretched widely, hearing the satisfying cracks in his shoulders. Having slept against Wade's side, once the man moved, he had fallen into a strangely angled position.
He opened the black-out curtains in his room and looked at the city below. The sun had just risen and he was debating if he wanted to go on a patrol. He had been trying to keep to his past schedule, in order to avert some of the avengers' and SHIELD's suspicions.
Like, it wasn't that they were entirely wrong. He had definitely been consorting with Deadpool. Just not in the ways that they seemed to think.
He smiled at the feel of the warm rays of sun, beaming into his room and lighting his face. It was beautiful in the mornings.
He decided to start getting ready. He filmed his first scene today. That meant getting his new haircut. Something that Wade was really excited about.
Between script readings, avoiding SHIELD, patrolling, preparing for the babies and his basic needs, he had been to 3 photoshoots in the past week. His agent assured him that they were only packing his schedule because Vogue wanted to get as many pictures as they could before his change in hairstyle. He would continue modelling, but they would assign him a different concept, while his hair was shorter. Once it had grown out a bit, he would be back in men's fashion.
Better yet, his pay wasn't being reduced, as he was still being featured in the magazine- just a different chapter. He also wasn't too worried as his hair grew quite fast, it fell under enhanced healing and all that, so he'd be back to the front covers in no time.
He pushed open the bathroom door and let himself in, hearing as the water turned off.
"You're up early." He noted, glancing at Wade with a smile, while he grabbed his toothbrush and wet it under the tap to brush his teeth.
"Couldn't sleep. I've got another job." Peter hummed and watched him in the reflection of the mirror.
His eyes mapped the scars across Wade's back, following their expanses that lead to the beginnings of others. Ones which disappeared under the towel that he had wrapped around his waist.
"Like what you see?" Wade asked, still not facing him.
"Mm," he hummed, spitting in the sink and wiping his mouth, "very much so."
Wade's shoulders hunched in slightly as he headed for the door.
"You'd be the first."
Peter gaped at his words and stopped him from leaving, turning the male to face him. He was used to Wade's insecurities, but they weren't usually that bad. Peter thought they'd gotten past Wade putting himself down.
"Stop, stop. What's wrong?" He cupped his face in his hands, trying to meet his eyes.
"It's nothing." Wade tried to shrug him away, tried to escape the conversation.
"Tell me." Peter insisted.
Wade sighed and held his wrist, tugging lightly and feeling that Peter would refuse to give up.
"It's just something that someone said. It's stupid." He wouldn't meet Peter's eyes. He didn't want to see what emotions they would hold.
"It's not stupid if it made you feel this way." Peter maintained. He continued to try and make eye contact with the evasive male.
"I was on the job. Find the girl, get her out. Simple." Peter stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.
"I lost my mask in the fight and she saw my face." Wade grit his teeth and stared intensely at the ground.
"Fear. That's the only way to describe it. She screamed. She was so scared, when she saw me." Peter's face became an upset frown, not happy with what he was hearing.
"I told her. I told her that I was there to help. But she wouldn't stop screaming. She just kept screaming monster." Wade finally met Peter's eyes with his own, his eyes dark and sad.
"She's right. I'm just an ugly monster." Peter was shaking his head, repeatedly saying no, as he realised that Wade was back to thinking this way. It was such a simple thing, really, just one word. One word that had Wade questioning his worth all over again.
"No. You're not a monster. You hear me? You're not." Peter enunciated, pushing his voice to be stronger as he tried to make Wade understand.
"Stop saying that. I am. I am a monster!" Wade began to break, as he moved backwards while holding his head.
Peter shushed him softly, trying to calm him down before he got himself all worked up.
"No. No! I am a monster!" Wade shouted, shaking his head as he dug his nails against his own scarred skin, making small crescent-shaped incisions.
Peter realised that he wasn't getting anywhere and decided that he needed to change his tactic.
He looked around and caught sight of his own reflection. He stared at himself for a moment and his eyes widened comically, getting an idea.
He turned back to Wade and grabbed his arms, pulling him down to the ground and sitting in the self-destructive male's lap.
"Look at me." Wade ignored his voice and Peter grabbed his hands, preventing him from hurting himself any more.
"Look at me!" He shouted, startling Wade from his mind and bringing him back to reality just enough for him to focus on the smaller male in his lap.
"You. Are. Not. A. Monster." Peter spoke sternly, forcing Wade to look directly into his eyes.
"You hear me? You're not a monster!" Wade nodded but his eyes were still clouded, doubtful.
"You are a beautiful, misunderstood, funny, caring, loving man. You're so handsome Wade. You don't even know it. I look at you and I feel like I've won the lottery."
Wade's mouth opened slightly. Closing a few times, before he finally managed to say anything.
"Why?"
Peter tilted his head in question.
"Why do you think that? You're stunning and I'm... not. You could do so much better than me."
Peter smiled softly as he pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips.
"I don't want anyone else, but you. You're perfectly imperfect and I wouldn't change a single thing about you."
Wade went to speak again, no doubt to argue his point, but Peter silenced him with a long, drawn out kiss.
"Don't."
Wade nodded and leaned further into the kiss.
"Okay."
Peter stroked his cheeks and peppered kisses along his jaw, following scars that lead him down to Wade's collarbone and neck.
"I love you." It was so quietly spoken that had it not been for his enhanced hearing, he may have missed it.
Peter smiled, wide and cheesy, against a scar on his neck.
"Me too. So so much." He didn't want to just say 'I love you too', it somehow sounded too impersonal for the moment. Like something that you would say when you didn't really mean it but you didn't want to upset someone that you cared about.
Wade wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him closer. They continued to just sit there silently, not saying anything and not needing to.
~~~~~~~~~~
Peter grabbed a glass from the cupboard above the sink and moved over to the fridge, pulling out the orange juice and pouring himself some.
He looked around the kitchen and hummed in consideration.
'How convenient would it be if the kitchen was on the same floor as us. I bet my dads would notice it though.'
He thought, absentmindedly.
He knew it would be a struggle with feeding the babies. Either they bought a kettle for his room, or they used the kitchen. And neither of those sounded particularly great.
He heard a springy noise and turned to see that his toast had popped up.
Peter grabbed the flora and jam and went over, tugging at the toast until it came out. Trying not to burn his fingers.
He made up his breakfast and moved out of the room, sitting down at one of the bar stools on the other side of the kitchen island.
"Hey kiddo! Up early?" He looked over to see his dad, Tony, entering the room right as he took a bite from his toast.
His dad had bags under his eyes, probably not having slept at all the previous evening, too caught up in whatever phenomenal project he was working on.
"Yeah. I'm spending the day with Ned, but I was too excited and woke up really early."
His dad nodded, not noticing the lie for what it was.
"Alright, well, have fun. Myself and the other avengers will be out on patrol for most of the day."
"Looking for Spider-Man and Deadpool?" Peter didn't miss a beat, raising a challenging brow when his dad looked like he might argue.
He snapped his mouth shut and looked around the room thoughtfully, for a moment.
"Jarvis told you." It was more of a statement than anything else, but Peter gave an answering nod anyway.
"J's annoyed with you. You spilt coffee on his circuit boards." Tony facepalmed, literally facepalmed.
"I knew there was something that I forgot." Peter gave his dad an amused look.
"Yeah, well, if you want to keep anything as a secret in this tower, you had better fix it." His dad grumbled in annoyance, but he didn't attempt to refute what he had said.
Peter finished his toast and his glass of orange juice, putting both dirty receptacles into the dishwasher.
He grabbed his bag from the stool, beside where he had been sitting to eat, and went towards the elevator.
"Bye dad! You and the others have a nice, uneventful, day!"
There was a quietly grumbled response and his dad's tired hand waved him off from around the frame of the kitchen, obviously having just discovered that they'd run out of instant coffee.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Hi! My name is George and I'll be taking care of you throughout your time filming!"
He smiled at the chipper male and allowed himself to be guided over to makeup chair.
"You have two scenes, flashbacks of sorts, that the directors want to get out of the way for this morning. They're the only ones where you have long hair, actually."
Peter nodded and allowed the team to get to work on transforming him into his character.
He saw how many different types of makeup were laid out and just smiled, he had become quite used to this environment due to being a model. There was always something that they wanted to touch up or change.
George came in front of him, standing between himself and the mirror, with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other.
"Look up, please?"
He asked and Peter did as he was told, wanting to help however he could. If that meant making it easier for someone else to do his makeup, then that's what he would do.
~~~~~~~~~~
Wade sat on the floor, humming a kiddies nursery rhyme, while he sharpened his blades.
He thought about what had happened earlier and couldn't help but to smile.
Peter really understood and cared about him. He showed it in every action and even the words that he gave him. Wade couldn't help but be a bit giddy when he remembered what Peter had said about not wanting anyone else.
It made him feel better in the knowledge that Peter didn't feel trapped and he wasn't just putting up with him for the sake of their babies.
He knew Peter wasn't like that, not really. But he couldn't help the doubt that managed to weave itself into his mind, every so often.
Peter was like the clear breeze, that swept through his thoughts and feelings, in a whirlwind of turmoil. And when he finished, his thoughts had cleared, his feelings evident, so he no longer had to question what was up from what was down.
While he was in his thoughts, he failed to notice that the pod had begun to melt away. Not actually going anywhere, but holes emerging in the top of the webbing, technically evaporating into the air.
~~~~~~~~~~
"And that's a wrap! Good scene everyone! We'll be starting on scene 1, once the set has been reconfigured. Actors please see your stylists to prepare for your next scenes." Anthony called through the loud speaker that he had commandeered at some point.
Peter moved towards George and paused as he saw the manic grin on the man's face.
He was holding up a razor and his face looked very scary.
Peter gulped, walked closer and smiled.
"Tom! You ready? Time for it all to come off!" If he wasn't holding a razor, Peter swore he would have been rubbing his hands together.
He sat down in the chair and George stepped up behind him, the buzz of the razor extremely loud beside his sensitive ears.
He watched as large chunks of hair began to fall away, dropping in brown clumps to the floor around them.