He tried to sleep as much as he could but he woke to shooting bolts of pain coursing through his body. It took a moment to find its source, to realize it wasn't a part of him but rather Wade. The man was pressed up against his body, his hand resting against Peter's side at the edge of his wound.

He needed the pain to wake his mind, to slowly realize that there was a body pressed against his back. He could feel the difference in their size, Wade's broader shoulders and height making Peter feel small even though there really wasn't that great of a difference between them. 

He was faced with the need to choose, and quickly. Did he want to create space and extinguish the pain, or move Wade's hand and continue to explore this closeness? He knew what choice he should make. It should have been reflex to shove Wade's hand aside but something brought pause.

He was stuck frozen for what felt like hours, pulses of pain keeping his mind aware. He contemplated and finally made his selfish choice and pulled Wade's hand up from his hip to the dip of his waist where it was safe to rest. His hand lingered on the man's, his fingers brushing against Wade's as a sudden chill ran over his body.

He hesitated and then he gently grasped the man's hand and dragged it up to his chest, slipping their hands under his shirt. If he was caught, he could pretend to be asleep. His shirt had already been riding up his chest, it wasn't strange they'd slip under what was hanging lose, right?"

He shouldn't be doing this. He already made a great show of his rejection toward Wade. He couldn't spin around on his heal now after only what, a day? That would make him the problem, assuming he wasn't already. No, he knew he was. He was paying for the consequences of his uncontrolled actions. A lapse in judgment so severe that he didn't even know what to make of what happened. He wasn't sure he recognized himself when he thought back to the moments that led up to Brock's photo being taken.  

He swallowed, heart jumping when Wade inhaled suddenly and leaned in more, his hand finding a more comfortable position where it rested in his shirt.  

It felt so nice to be held.

He closed his eyes and soaked in the sensation of pressure from the man's body resting against his, becoming increasingly aware of the warm bulge pressing against his backside. It wasn't unusual. He could hear Wade's even and deep breaths and feel the lack of tension in the man's body. He was asleep, and the erection he could feel against ass was only a side effect of sleep patterns. Nothing more...

He'd never been with a man. Well, not like that. He'd had a weird interaction with Flash Thompson his senior year. Flash hadn't been able to push him around for three months or so, not since the beginning of that school year. His bully had also been moving down the totem pole after some drama involving some cheerleaders and one of the other football players. One day he must have been in need of an ego fix because when Peter turned around while getting something out of his locker the blonde had been right there, nose to nose with him. This of course wasn't an entirely unusual occurrence for him, but it was startling after being in relative peace for so long. What was different about that day immediately followed that typical sest up though. Before Thompson could get a word in edge wise,  he was shoved into Peter from behind. Hard.

Their faces knocked together, his head knocked into his locker and Thompson's face was shoved into his cheek by the force.

"Oh did Thompson just kiss Parker?"  Some nameless jock cackled. They were probably important to Flash but Peter didn't have any idea who these guys were.

He could feel Falsh's eye flashes fluttering against the side of his face as he looked up to see the tall student keeping Flash pinned against his body. The weight being shoved into him would have crushed him when he was younger before being crushed by buildings and animal techno-bots became a regular concern of his. 

"I think he did," the bigger bully cackled staring down at Peter for a second while he pinned Flash to him. "Parker, did you know Flash likes boys?"

"Oh, he loves boys," someone howled.

Flash wasn't fighting back. He was frozen, shoulders tense and stiff like if he moved things would get worse. He was standing there like a terrified animal, like he didn't know how to take being harassed. Which, Peter supposed he didn't.

And then they started to force the blonde to grind into his hip. The guy had started to get hard, teenage hormones working against Flash's favor as he was forced to rub into Peter's leg. He could hear Flash's terrified breathing and the sharp beats of his panicked heart. It was a curious moment for him, one of many when it occurred to him just how much of a bigger person he was. He wasn't awarded many opportunities to feel great about himself in school, but in that moment he remembered how proud he was about feeling unbothered. Annoyed, actually. At a bully. At someone higher up in the pecking order.

"Are you done with him?" Peter had asked, impatiently.

"No, I don't think he is-" he'd grabbed Flash and slid him aside, reaching forward to grab the guy forcing the assault and swung him around into the locker beside his, denting it with the shape of the teen's back.

He sent that kid home with a broken nose and fractured jaw. Peter was given in-school suspension, and Flash seemed to be released from his daily torture session for the rest of the year. He didn't go back to his popular status, and they didn't become friends, but Flash would hang around him now and again, sit with him during lunch, and talk at random. Peter had felt sorry for him, the guy was bi curious and the wrong crowd found out. Peter put two and two together and took that as a sign to keep to himself as far as his own sexual questions lingered. It seemed like Flash had been... abused by the group. Certainly, not something that paired well when the guy was already struggling with his home life.

Flash kissed him at graduation when no one was paying attention. And that was one of the last interactions he had with the guy. But it had left a lasting impression. As much as he still didn't have fond feelings for his classmate. He felt bad for him, but Flash had tortured him day in and day out for literal years. As attractive as Flash was, and curious as they both were, the answer was no on virtue when it came to whether or not he could risk to explore with Flash. So Peter in the end opted to keep his dignity.

But that wasn't where he was now. Today he had a man that he'd become good friends laying against him. A man who was taking care of him. He knew the guyl liked him. He'd already admitted to it. Wade had done nothing but take care of him since the day they met. All Peter had to do was accept him. Say yes.

What a terrifying prospect.

He gently caressed the hand he was holding against his chest, his heart beating heavily as he adjusted himself under the guise of getting more comfortable, knowing full well he was just pressing back into Wade, feeding the mundane fantasy of the moment.

He wanted Wade, he shouldn't, but he did. He wanted Wade to wake up to his situation and push it over the edge. He wanted to be touched and doted on, he wanted intimacy. He wanted to feel the skin of another person. He wanted the familiarity of coming home to someone every day. The certainty of it.

But that was the danger. There was never certainty. No guarantee he'd come home to the person he loved. No promise someone else wouldn't take it away.

He ran his thumb over the back of the large hand pressed against his chest, a fading raised scar running under the pad of his thumb. Blood began to pool in lower places as he imagined the gentle touch of those hands elsewhere.

He smiled to himself. Wade was a loud and happy guy but his confidence seemed to be on an infinite soar since he'd been watching Wade go through his long-term treatment. He was happy for him. Happy that he felt better physically and mentally.

Wade suddenly inhaled sharply and Peter's heart tried to leap out of his chest as he stiffened and then quickly tried to remind himself to play dead so Wade thought he was asleep. He relaxed and let his hand slip down to the bed and he held his breath.

There was a moment of pause, likely the man was mentally figuring out what was happening while in his tired daze. And then there was the curious and slow slide of Wade's hand higher up his chest so he could pull him in closer. And then he pressed his length against Peter's ass almost pointedly, the feeling sending a throb through Peter's entire lower body.

And then Wade relaxed and all returned to normal. The man's breathing evened out and he stilled once more.

Silence followed and for a few seconds was only filled with the loud sound of Peter's beating heart. But with time it melted away and with it, the dull ache of his wound returned to the forefront of his mind.

He wondered if Wade would let him have another pain killer? It had been nice when it lasted.

 Very nice.

His body burned. It was hot to the touch and his skin taunt. The gauze stuck and pulled on the bits of flesh that weren't really attached at the edges of his wound. It was gross... he wanted to roll over but he couldn't. There wasn't really comfort laying on his stomach, he couldn't stretch his leg out tothe side for long without feeling like he was tearing through his skin. It sucked. He wanted the pain to go away.

And he was dehydrated...

He took Wade's hand and slowly moved it aside before slowly scooting off the bed, glancing around the room before standing up on his good leg.

How did he want to navigate this? If he bumped something in the dark it was going to be quite the experience...

He took a baby steps on his bad leg and grimaced before taking another limp. As quietly as he could he made it to the end of the hall and finally to the kitchen.

He chewed on his tongue as he focused on the floor, sliding carefully toward the sink. He pulled a cup out of the clean dish rack and filled the glass half full, drinking it in a few gulps before refilling. It tasted bad... but that was typical for the city. He turned to the fridge, wondering if Wade had any ice or maybe a freezer pack he could lay with, but he wasn't really comfortable enough to look... stupid of him, he knew that.

He took a deep breath and sighed, looking toward the living room and the shadow of the couch, his mind floating back to what Wade had said earlier about who's blood could be on it when he noticed the yellow prescription bottle sitting on the coffee table.

That wasn't for him. He didn't know the side effects... but Wade had only given him half a dose.

To protect him, it was made for Wade's healing factor and metabolism, not Peter's.

But it had put him to sleep so deeply. He was pretty sure it had been daylight out when he drifted off, right? It was the middle of the night now.

Maybe enough time had passed.

But what if Wade needed it?

He'd already intended to give Peter more, so surely not.

But it had been taken away as a safety precaution.

Peter rubbed his face, biting on his tongue like somehow that would stop his inner thoughts from voicing themselves.

He just wanted to sleep.

What about depresents? Melatonin? Advice PM? Nyquil? Did Wade have any of that? Where was his medicine kept?

.... but did Wade have medicine? He was recovering from an overactive healing factor.

He needed to try to go to sleep. He didn't always have money to spend on painkillers, he'd been fine without anything.

He eyed the bottle once more.

He'd be fine....