Chapter Text
Peter listlessly moved the pasta around on his plate, blinking heavily at the noodles as they slithered through red pools of marinara. He was exhausted. So exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open.
“Hey itsy bitsy spider, if that spaghetti ain’t doin’ it for ya, I will happily feed you my noodle, which comes with white sauce,” Wade commented from across the booth, “or I could order you something else. Though to tell the truth, I prefer option one-”
“No, this is fine,” Peter said, rubbing his face. God, it felt so weird to not be wearing a mask around Wade, even after a whole month. “I’m starving, I just…” He looked at the food a little desperately. “It’s weird. It’s just not. Not filling me up.”
“Well, if you need filling up, then I definitely recommend the Deadpool fettuccine. It comes with extra thick savory sauce and two improbably large and shapely meatballs.”
It really said a lot about how tired he was that Peter merely blinked heavily across the table at Wade’s expectant expression. The laughter went out of Wade’s eyes and his face crinkled into something that looked suspiciously like concern.
“Excuse me, Miss, can we get this to go and our check, please?” Wade said, calling to a passing server and not even bothering on a stupid chat-up line. Peter must look worse than he thought. The server did a double-take of Wade’s scarred face as she dropped off boxes and the bill, moving away as fast as possible.
“Must have worn too much cologne,” Wade commented, dropping cash on the bill and shoving a box towards Peter.
They walked out of the restaurant a moment later, to-go bags in hand. Peter stopped on the sidewalk, hand rubbing the back of his neck. God, he was just so tired. And so hungry.
“Hey, thanks for trying to buy me an apology dinner-”
“No, no, a date,” Wade said, holding his arms out to the sides expansively.
“Yeah, no, I agreed to an apology Italian dinner only, my man. You didn’t spend nearly enough for me to put out.” Peter was trying to be his normal bantering self with his new, uh, friend? He really was. But Wade was clearly not convinced.
“Are you sure you’re okay, baby boy? You kinda have me worried that you won’t make it home in one piece. And now that I know how pretty you are, even though you're barely legal-”
“I’m twenty-two.”
“...I feel guilty letting you toddle off alone.” He swung one incredibly thick arm over Peter’s shoulders. It settled there, warm and heavy and-
“Are you flexing?”
“No.”
“You are. You’re flexing.”
“You’re clearly off your nut with delirium. We should find a doctor. Ooo, we should play doctor.”
Peter’s stomach growled, long and loud. They both stood there, staring down at it in silence until it had finished.
Wade slipped his arm around and slowly turned Peter so that they were face to face with Wade gripping both of his shoulders, ignoring the pedestrians who were jostling around them on the sidewalk.
“I said I’d get you something else,” Wade said seriously. “There’s no need for you to go hungry. Unless… Look I totally get that this mug of mine is probably putting you off your grub, so I can, I dunno, wear a paper bag over my head or have something delivered to your apartment or-”
“Stop being an idiot,” Peter said, stepping back so Wade’s hands fell away. He turned and started walking down the street, stopping when Deadpool didn’t get into step beside him. He looked back to see the most dejected look ever on Wade’s face as he stood by himself, huge and strong, like a pouting boulder in the middle of the sidewalk. Peter motioned for him to follow, and his face lit up and he rushed over, practically skipping with glee.
Peter snorted. “I think it’s the spider bite. The powers,” Peter explained as they turned together down a less crowded street, heading vaguely in the direction of Peter’s apartment. “No matter how much I eat lately, I don’t feel full. And over the past few years, I’ve had to eat more and more calories to keep the same level of energy, you know? And I guess I thought it was just because I was patrolling longer hours now that I graduated college blah blah blah. But I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve already eaten like, five thousand some calories today, and I’m still starving.”
Wade’s hairless eyebrows pinched together under the shadow of his hood. “Nothing helps?” he asked, for once not making a joke.
“Well…” Peter trailed off.
“Tell Papa Deadpool,” Wade said, elbowing him gently in the ribs.
“Last week I got handed a gift card,” Peter swallowed, shaking his head. “Sorry, actually that part's a long story. Suffice it to say, the gift card was for a steakhouse with exactly enough money for a big steak dinner.”
“And…” Deadpool prompted, jumping through a hopscotch grid drawn on the sidewalk with chalk, his gaze never wavering from Peter’s face.
“And,” Peter huffed, rolling his eyes. “I felt full. Like, really good. Patrol went great. My focus was sharp.” He sighed. “But it didn’t last. The next morning I just woke up hungry again.”
“So eat steak,” Deadpool said. His eyes dropped down to Peter’s take out bag. “I totally would have bought you steak!”
“They didn’t have steak at the restaurant,” Peter said, exasperated.
“I would have taken you somewhere else!”
“It sounded good at the time, okay? It just. I could tell it wasn’t like, being absorbed, you know? Like it wasn’t going to give me any energy or stop the hunger pains.”
“Why aren’t you eating steak! We need to do a repeat of your steak experiment, pronto,” Wade demanded, grabbing Peter’s elbow and hustling him around a corner towards a steak joint.
“Wade, no! It’s fine. Steak is expensive.”
“Indulge me,” Wade practically snarled. Then, more quietly to himself, “I know that, but we have to start somewhere… No, I am not telling him that, he already thinks we’re crazy.”
He ushered Peter through the heavy wood door, and as soon as the smell of grilling meat hit him, Peter went faint with hunger. He stumbled a bit and Wade put his arm around him.
“Whoa, easy there, baby boy. You’re going to eat soon.” Turning to the hostess, he slapped a hundred dollar bill on the counter. “This is for you if we can get this kid some steak in the next ten minutes.”
She blinked at them for a moment while Peter blushed furiously. Then her delicate hand reached out quick as a striking snake and the money was gone. “Of course, gentlemen, right this way, please.”
She led them to a table near the kitchen, and then slipped into the back for a moment, before emerging with a nervous-looking server at her side. Fixing the server with a look, she left them and went back up to the front.
“Hi there, sport,” Wade greeted the young man, who was fumbling his order pad out of his apron pocket and trying to avoid staring at Wade’s face. “Nothing fancy, we just need two of your largest, bestest, steakiest steaks please. Medium rare.”
“Right away,” the kid agreed, scampering off to the kitchen.
“Wade.”
“You look like you're gonna to pass out.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re paler than Loki’s left ass cheek.”
“Like you’d know.”
“A man can have fantasies!”
Peter sighed. “I don’t even know if the steak is what did it last time. It could have been a fluke.”
“That’s why we’re being responsible science bros and testing our hepatitis.”
“I think you mean ‘hypothesis.’” Peter smirked at him across the table, ignoring the rosebud vase and the romantic candle. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what will.”
“There are plenty of options! We can go through the entire animal kingdom. And for once, I don’t mean that in a sexy way. Or, not necessarily.”
“God, Wade.”
“So what did you eat today?”
“Uh, before our first dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Cereal, peanut butter and jelly, pudding cups, about six packs of ramen-”
“Oh my god, seriously? No protein? No red meat?”
“I already tried protein shakes! They make me feel sick. And meat is expensive.”
Deadpool was rubbing his big hands over his face, shaking his head. “Kid, I will feed you meat anytime. You don’t even have to bend over first.”
“Can you give it a rest for like, five minutes, you walking bag of hormones?”
“Your ass won’t quit so why should I?”
“Jesus fu-”
“Your steak, sirs,” the waiter said reappearing with two huge plates. Peter highly suspected that these had been destined for another table at some point, but no complaints from him. Less than ten minutes, as promised. And it looked amazing.
Red juices swamped the plate and Peter’s mouth watered. He could barely get pieces cut and in his mouth fast enough.
“Oh yes,” he said around a mouthful. “Yes, yes. Mmm.” He could finally feel his hunger pains fading, for the first time in weeks. Oh god, it was like sex. Or at least, what he assumed sex was like. It was so good. He barely chewed one piece before shoving another one in his mouth. He could feel the juice dripping down his chin. He just leaned over the plate and let it, too busy devouring to stop and wipe his face.
Deadpool was staring at him with wide eyes, his own steak untouched. “Holy shit, Petey, I am, this very moment, in possession of a whole new, very specific kink.” He watched Peter demolish the rest of his steak, staring at him in slack-jawed awe. “Baby boy, you were not joking when you said you were starving. I thought you looked a little twiggy, but I had no idea. Jesus.”
Peter had finished the meat. Panting for just a moment, trying to clear his mind, the juice on the plate caught his eye and he hunched over to lick it up.
“Fuck! Baby, here,” Wade said, sliding his own plate on top of Peter’s empty one. He attacked it with just as much desperation, though about halfway through the empty hollow of his stomach finally seemed to be filling in. He could feel it in his veins, like his body had been drying up, withering, and now was plumping up again, wet and sated.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, horrified. “Wade, I just licked my plate.”
“You did. I saw. I’m still hard.”
“I licked my plate clean in a fancy restaurant!” He looked around, but the only people that would have noticed anything were either unaware or carefully avoiding eye contact with the crazy guy in the corner.
“Did it work? Do you have your Spidey mojo back?”
“I…” Peter flexed his hands and tensed his thighs just to feel the strength. He didn’t feel like he was about to keel over from exhaustion anymore. He felt... “I feel good.” He shimmied in his seat. “Really good.”
“You have actual roses in your cheeks, kid. You look like a romantic bouquet all of a sudden. I would like to take you home in a bundle of long stems, please. Get pricked by your thorns and-”
“I’m eating the rest of this and I don’t even care if you keep spewing nonsense as long as you don’t take it away from me,” Peter informed him, wrapping a protective arm around Wade’s former plate.
“I’m enjoying watching too much to complain, Sweet Pea, so you just go on and enjoy that big hunk of bloody meat and holy shit you’re done already.”
Peter raised his face, staring intently at Wade, his fingers in his mouth, sucking off the remaining juice. He felt full. Not bursting, like he absolutely should have been after consuming fifty ounces of beef, but raring to go. Ready to take on the world.
Wade’s mouth was slack as he stared with half-lidded eyes at where Peter’s fingers disappeared between his lips. Peter felt his cheeks hollow out slightly as he sucked to get all the flavor before pulling his spit-slick fingers away from his face.
Deadpool swallowed heavily. “I… may have just come in my panties a little.”
Peter was practically bouncing in his seat. “Let’s go on patrol!”
Wade just blinked heavily several times and wouldn’t stop slowly nodding his head.