Warnings for: nudity, suggested sexual content, and mature themes.

That is all.

Peter paced the length of the cell, hyperventilating, with his hands tangled in his hair. Wade was following him from a distance, step for step, like a long, drawn-out shadow trying feverishly to get him to settle down.

Like the damn calming goat he was.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," he tried to soothe, jumping ahead to get in front of Peter to look him in the face. How he could be so nimble in that straitjacket, Peter still couldn't fathom. The expression he see's on Peter's face is woefully unconvinced. He didn't believe a word of that. In fact, he'd more likely to believe that Francis had a change of heart and was setting them all free with a gift basket and enough money to pay for the therapy they'd all need after this.

"C'mon," Wade tried to grin, but it was stiff and uncertain, "buck up buttercup. It's going to be-"

"If you tell me it's going to be okay one more time, I'm shoving you through the wall myself," Peter growled. "Don't lie to me, Wade. It won't fucking help anything."

Wade was silent, staring at Peter in surprise before shadows darkened his face. "Alright," he conceded, backing up a step, "Your right. I shouldn't lie to you. It sucks. It's fucked up. Francis is probably going to take advantage of you and your heat to do some pretty nasty things. Heaven knows he's tried to do the same thing to me. Just..." he sighed, looking to the side, as if unable to meet Peter's eyes, "stay strong, kay? You're only truly fucked when you give up. So...just don't do that."

He turned briskly and found himself a wall to sit against, which he leaned into and slid down to the floor. Peter's pacing eased up and he stared at Wade, guilt gnawing on his insides like a bunch of ravenous rats. 'You're only truly fucked when you give up.' Peter supposed Wade would know more about that than anyone here.

When he first laid eyes on him, it was so obvious how indifferent he acted. The way he lounged about in the cell, talked cool and languid and regarding everything as only mildly inconvenient. Acting as if being retained by an evil organization was the sad norm. He said he's been there a while and Peter could only imagine how long a 'while' was. It seemed as though he'd given up a long, long time ago.

So, why did he care what Peter did or didn't do? If Peter decided to give up and let Weapon X do their thing, what was it to Wade?

Maybe he didn't like seeing someone else fail where he had failed as well. Maybe he didn't want to see Weapon X win even though they had worn him out.

Why was Wade such a conundrum?

Peter sighed and picked up his pacing, "Sorry about snapping at you," he muttered, "and thanks for being honest."

"Eh, you're too smart to know that everything's not going to be okay. Just kick whoever's ass they tried to put you with, alright. Don't let Francis win, he already has a big enough head."

"You can count on that," Peter huffed, tugging on his grey shirt. Shit, it was getting really hot. He was already beginning to sweat and the swell in his gut was only getting worse. He squat down on his knees, into a position that had become somewhat iconic for as him as a hero, and fanned his liked this position. It made him feel strong and prepared. Ready to take on whatever life threw at him.

His scent was only getting stronger too. He could tell by the way Wade's nose scrunched whenever he breathed in too deeply. But, his own alpha smell was in the air too. The same rich scent that reminded him of MJ. There was something about it though. Something different, a sweet undertone that probed at Peter's brain.

It took him several walks around the perimeter while pulling his worries out of his own brain and reexamining them from all side before he stopped and turned around, gawking at Wade. "You're going into rut, aren't you?" He said, and Wade grimaced.

"Yeah, I was wondering when I should bring that up."

"Fuck."

"Yeeeaaah, I'd say we're both screwed. Not literally, but, you know. You know"

Peter scowled at the walls. They really were. It was obvious that the alpha's had to deal with their ruts in these conditions, but what about...

"Wade, how many omega's has Weapon X kidnapped?"

Wade grimaced again and looked away. He didn't meet Peter's eyes and scuffed his feet lightly at the floor, which was all the answer he needed. Peter swallowed thickly, feeling sick. "You mean, he's been taking omega's and just sticking them in with alpha's? Just like that? No thought about what was going to happen to them."

"Basically," Wade grumbled, glaring at the floor. "I mean, sometimes they're hookers and prostitutes he buys, but it doesn't ever matter in the end. It...it doesn't usually end up very pretty for em'. I mean, it keep the alpha's 'satisfied' or whatever the fuck they wanna call it, but if the omegas end up carrying, it just gives Weapon X more test subjects and weapons. Especially if they're mutant. That's why they're so obsessed with mutants and mutates. Natures weapons', so I've heard."

Peter shook his head, teeth-baring. He felt riled like some wild animal. "That's - that's so fucked up," he shouted, kicking the wall ferociously and making a decent-sized dent where his foot hit. "This entire organization is terrible. Every single bit of it."

"What gave it away," Wade drawled, hitting his head back against the wall. "The rape, the torture, or the overwhelming stench of bleach? There's never been anything right about Weapon X."

And he's been here through all of it, Peter figured. Wade seemed to know Weapon X up and down, left and right. Has he really been here for so long? Has Weapon X been thriving while Peter's been out on the streets, hellbent on stopping such things, completely unaware of the infestation beneath the floorboards? Wade said they'd been hunting him down. Despite his charisma and aloofness, he seemed like a pretty paranoid guy. How did they manage to get him?

Peter didn't have time to think about that. A crackling wave of heat simmered beneath his skin and he groaned, smacking his head into the wall. An omega in heat and an alpha in rut. Man, the universe couldn't have picked a better time.

And it was still using his life as an outhouse it seemed.

A few moments later the doors opened again and the guards stepped in. They weren't the normal guards, but a coterie of beta. So, Francis had been anticipating him going into heat. Beta's weren't affected to heats and ruts as much as alphas and omegas, on a biological level, but that didn't make them completely cut off. They could still smell them.

"Whooo," one of them whooped with a laugh, fanning the air around them, "An omega in heat and an alpha in rut. Aren't you a lucky one, Wade." He wagged his eyebrows at Wade, who grinned and cheerfully told him to stick some very unpleasant things up his rear.

"Leave im' alone," one of his partners laughed, "We came here for the omega."

"Of course you did," Peter muttered, not looking up from the wall. It was so nice and cold. Fuck, he was thirsty. Where was some water when you needed it?

"C'mon on then" the guy laughed, reaching out to grab him, and Peter snarled, turning enough to give him the stink eye. He held up his hand, pointing at the guy threateningly, "Touch me and I will break your face."

"He totally will," Wade supplied from the floor.

The beta held up a pair of thick, highly enforced-looking cuffs, "Well, we're not supposed to let you wander. Ajax is taking precautions."

Damn. Of course, Francis wasn't going to let his "prize" resist. He knew Peter would fight back, more so than usual. In fact, Peter was nursing the idea of simply busting out of here now, plan and information be damned. If he happened to be on some super-secret based in the middle of the ocean, then so be it. But he wasn't about to let them rape him in hopes that he'd carry some mutie-baby for them.

Hell to the no.

His thoughts must've shown up on his face, as the betas sighed. "He thought you might do this too."

Peter's spider-sense jarred and he quickly lept from the wall as a cannister of gas erupted at his feet where the beta had thrown it. Petet held his breath, snatched it, and chucked it right back at them.

The beta's scrambled back, quickly putting on their gas masks while Peter charged. They pulled out their weapons, but those would be easy to dodge. Or at least, they would be if they didn't explode into little balls of gas in his face. The flash was the most surprising part and he stumbled, rubbing his eyes. More gas was being thrown around him, encasing him in a cloud. Unfortunately, holding his breath indefinitely wasn't on his list of powers.

Damn. Damn. Damn. Not again. Curse this stupid fucking monster steroids sedative.

Blinking the spots from his eyes, Peter braced his legs and held his arms up, ready to lash out.

"Well, that's cheating," Wade brayed to his left, and Peter was surprised that he was up on his feet and angling closer to Peter. Normally, he sat on the ground and watched the ensuing fight while shouting words of encouragement. It might've just been his added hormones that made him itching for a fight. Or it gave him an excuse to use his pent energy.

Peter could relate. Every one of his senses were buzzing like a hornet's nest.

He stood at Peter's side. He couldn't do much without his arms, but he looked ready to head-butt the beta's like a charging, hornless bull. Unless you considered horniness a weapon.

"I'll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right," Peter offered.

Wade rolled his head, cracking his neck slightly. "Aight. I'm down for that."

The beta's hesitated. Their guns were still up, but they looked between Peter and Wade like they weren't sure if they should use them or not. The leader of the group waited a second, before quickly gesturing for them to back up. Hastily, with little to no hesitation, they retreated.

"Use em' all," the leader said, tossing canisters of gas over his shoulder, "We'll take him once they've blacked out."

They followed the leader's directions wholeheartedly.

"Fucking hell," Wade muttered and he and Peter surged forward, which only made the beta's scramble back faster. Peter managed to grab the door before it could close, stopping it short. But it was a small victory that lasted only a few seconds.

The leader struck him square in the head with the butt of his gun and Peter stumbled back, holding his bruising forehead. "OW OW OW! WHAT THE HELL, BASTARD!"

The door had closed by then, so he didn't get much of an answer. Peter rubbed the swelling spot sourly, the other pinching his nose to keep the gas away.

"Here, let me see," Wade said and Peter grumbled and looked up, hesitantly peeling his hand away. Wade tilted his head. "Nasty hit, but I think you'll be fine. Well, if you sucky-ass healing factor actually works."

"How would you even know my healing factor sucks?" Peter demanded, rubbing the spot a few more times. Ugh. It was so hot in here and all the smoke sweltering around them wasn't helping. It was getting blurry and fuzzy again. Peter swayed on his feet, bumping slightly into Wade. His skin was tingling. He clutched onto Wade's arms to stabilize himself.

For some reason, he found that funny. Wade was hardly stable, mentally that is. He giggled.

"I think you're losing it," Wade said, but it sounded distance, and a second later, he giggled too.

Peter laughed and bopped his nose. "I think we're both losing..." he thought for a second, before waving his hand petulantly. "Something..." It was getting harder to think. His body was like a candle. Burning and melting. His legs became wax and he tottered to the floor, pulling Wade down too.

"I think I'm gonna.., gonna go to sleep...or somethin," he muttered and closed his eyes.

Through his drifting consciousness, he heard Wade hum, "Hmm, samesies"

<><><><><><><><><>

When Peter woke up he was sweltering.

He felt as though he was sleeping in a furnace. With a gasping, stuttering breath, he looked up. He didn't know where he was, but it wasn't his cell. The smell was all wrong.

The mattress he was on didn't smell right either. It didn't have his nor Wade's scent. It didn't have any scent, it smelled new. Which would've been nicer if his head wasn't pulsing like Time Square on New Year's Eve. Instead of relief for having something relatively new and unused, his chest ached for something familiar.

He scrambled to take off his burning shirt, only to realize he didn't have a shirt on. Nor did he have pants or underwear, for that matter. Sometime in his unconsciousness, someone had stripped him down. Peter shuddered at the thought. It didn't feel like anyone had touched him, but how could he be sure? He could hardly remember anything past the beta's tossing a bunch of gas bombs in the cell, much less them taking him out.

His heat had increased tenfold since unconsciousness. It was still in its smaller stages, but it'd reach its peak in a few days. He groaned just thinking about it. It was going to be hell, he could already tell.

"Fuck," he hissed, propping himself up on the mattress. There was a single water bottle next to him. He reached for it with the greed a crook would have for a rare diamond and wrenched the cap off, guzzling most of it down in one go. A single bottle wasn't going to be enough to sustain him the rest of the day, much less the remainder of his heat. Already, he felt as if it were drying up in his body.

"Fuck," he said again, curling back up on the mattress. His skin tingled like someone had rubbed him down with face wash. The kind that made your face feel raw after you used it. A dull, simmering pot of arousal was heating in his stomach, despite him being the only one in the room. If his biology got its way, he'd lure in a potential "mate" with his over-saturated scent, where they'd get busy trying to make a baby. But his biology could go screw itself cause parenthood was not on his agenda, and he doubted Weapon X was kind enough to supply him with birth control.

Peter's handled his own heats for years and that wasn't going to change now.

Besides, he figured he'd have bigger problems than popping a boner. Francis was, without a doubt, gonna stick alpha's in here with him. Peter was gonna have to conserve his strength to keep them all off. Heats wiped him out, even as Spider-Man. If fact, ever since obtaining his powers, he's come to realize that they've only gotten stronger.

His stamina's increased exponentially, that's for sure, and he hadn't really appreciated when MJ started calling him Bunny instead of Tiger. Who wanted to be called Bunny, anyway? Especially when you could be called something cool and fierce, like Tiger. Sure, Peter's never resembled much of a fierce cat outside his costume, but still, he's grown fond of it over the years.

Damn, he missed MJ. When they were together they helped each other through heats and ruts. Even after they broke up, they'd still help each other out, cause sometimes it was just easier having someone there to make sure you're stocked on water, food, blankets, and anything else you might want/need. Besides, just having some close was comforting to him. Personally, Peter didn't' mind a bit of snuggling before the real heat began, and after it's reached it peak. MJ loved a bit of snuggling too, so they were both cool with it. She wasn't as into it as he was, but still.

Ugh, what he wouldn't do for a snuggle buddy right now. One that wasn't going to molest him the moment they got close.

"Buckle up," Peter muttered to himself, burrowing into the mattress. "It's going to be a long few days."

<><><><><><><><>

And a long few days it was. What was surprising was that he spent the entirety of it alone.

He expected Francis to shove an alpha in with him the moment he was put in a cell. Oddly enough, no one had come. Occasionally, a slot in the door would open and a tray with food and a water bottle was pushed inside, which Peter scarfed down with relish. By the time he was awake again, the tray was gone.

He couldn't say he wasn't relieved by the lack of attention. Excessive worrying while in heat only prolonged it because the body started with-holding their pheromones. An effect of the stress. At least without the threat of alpha, his heat didn't have to draw itself out.

At least that was what Peter was trying to tell himself.

Unfortunately, Francis proved to be as much of a jackass as Peter's always suspected.

It was when his heat had reached its peak did the bastard finally make a move.

Peter was having a hard time, literally. He squeezed the meager blanket he'd woken up with and pushed his face into the mattress as he rolled his hips against it. He felt red-hot and on fire. Is this what it felt like to be the Human Torch? Did Ghost Rider ever feel like someone had lit a bonfire under his skin?

Damn it, this was the worst part of heats. His entire body buzzed with unwanted arousal, building, and building like a bomb ticking down the seconds before explosion. Heats only lasted a few days, but it always felt like so much longer.

And as soon as he got out, he was gonna bunch in Francis's teeth. And kick his ass. And give him a wedgie for good measure.

With nary or warning, the door swished open and Peter was so stunned that all he could do was stare. Then he cursed and scooted up the mattress. This was it. Francis was sticking an alpha in here with him. He should've known it was too good to last. With trembling arms, he got to his knees, fists clenched and braced in front of him. He probably looked far from intimidating, sweating buckets, skin flushed and sporting the biggest erection. But he wasn't going to back down, damnnit.

"Oh fuck," his should-be-rapist muttered from the doorway and Peter froze.

Wade stood in the door, arms bound behind his back, and shoulder's slumped. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, so Peter knew he could smell the pheromones. Peter closed his eyes, grimacing. A thick, rustic smell hit his nose.

Wade was still rut too, he saw. Because things couldn't have gotten any worse.

They may have become somewhat friends over the past months, but heating omegas and rutting alpha's could bring out the worse in people.

The guard behind Wade shoved him inside, snickering cruelly, "Have fun, you lucky bastard." he said and clicked the remote in hand. The cuffs binding Wade's hands to his back opened and his arms fell at his side.

Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted for the door, running as if he had a chainsaw-wielding maniac on his tail, but the door closed just before his escape. Instantly, he found the nearest corner and scrunched himself into it, hands on his monstrous knee's and shoulder's hunched.

"Petey-" he started, but Peter shook his head.

"Just keep your distance, Wade," he said, collapsing down on the sheets again. "I know. Just keep your distance. And I'll keep mine."

Wade nodded, pushing himself farther into the corner. He didn't say anything, but his jaw was tight and his hands knuckle white. His pheromones were only getting stronger too. His rut was at its peak, same as Peter. Ugh, stupid hormones. Stupid pheromones. Stupid heats. Stupid ruts.

"Aghhhhh, I'm gonna die," Peter groaned into the blanket.

Through the corner of his eye, Wade nodded, but said tightly, "Yep. Right there with ya, buddy."

"Fuck Francis."

Wade laughed, "I think that's his plan. Though, I don't think he plans on doing the fucking."

"Oof - getting a little too close to home, Wade."

He laughed again, "Sorry. My bad."

Peter stifled a laugh into his pillow, rolling over to look at Wade. "This is Weapon X for us, aye? The go-to-hell for our already shitty lives."

"Pain and boners. Sounds about right." Wade leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "Don't worry Petey. I won't touch you. I'd rather bite my own hand off before I touched you."

"I'm flattered," Peter snorted. "And I won't touch you either. We're in this together."

Wade pumped his fist half-heartedly, "Boner bros!"

This time Peter laughed out loud, "Yeah, sure. Boner Bros." A wave of heat crackled under his skin and he winced, stuffing his face back into the pillow. He definitely didn't want to jerk off in front of Wade or rub his dick into the sheets, but it was getting bad now.

What he wouldn't do for a little water.

"I won't look," Wade said, and Peter wondered if he really was that obvious. "Take care of yourself, alright."

"And what about you?" Peter asked.

Wade's brow hiked up his forehead, "What are you insinuating?"

"I'm not offering to help you with it," Peter huffed, "But if you do need to take care of your own - uh, business. I'll give you some privacy too."

"Thanks," he actually sounded grateful. "You know, I've got to admit, this is the weirdest, most understanding encounter I've ever had with anyone. Weird in a good way though. My ruts don't usually go like this."

Peter nodded, wanted to keep the conversation going, but he was so parched his tongue felt swollen in his mouth. He nodded again and hummed, gesturing for Wade to go on.

"You know, there was this one time I accidentally teleported into this weird, nun school. Broke my teleporter in the fall and stranded myself. Went into rut that same day. Man, it was the worst few days of my life. You know how ruts can get super long if you stressed? Yeah, that's totally what happened."

"Why would you be stressed?"

"It was a nun -school," Wade emphasized, "With nuns. You know, our holy sisters? It was like being a sinner in church. It was so fucking bad. Besides, I had this run-in with a nun before and, I shit you not, she must've been part bull, cause hell she hit hard. I mean, I didn't mean to interrupt their prayer meeting. You hardly have any control when your being thrown teeth-first through a window."

Peter laughed loudly again. "Are you for real?"

"Real as the voices in my head."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?"

"Well, not when you say it like that..."

Their banter continued like that. There were times when they had to stop to take care of "business," but neither commented when the other had to pause, and they smoothly picked up conversation after. It was the most awkward, yet oddly comforting, heat of Peter's life. Talking about their individual exploits (Peter was careful not to give away being Spider-Man) was enough to keep the majority of Peter's attention from his heat, which sped up the process immensely.

Soon enough, he collapsed on the mattress, finally feeling his body temperature begin to lower. He gave himself a few minutes to re-evaluate his entire life, before cleaning himself up with the blanket and turning the mattress over. Once his heat was over, they were going to have to burn it. Burn it dead.

Peter tossed Wade the blanket too before settling down on the mattress. He was still thirsty as hell, but he doubted Francis would do him the favor of tossing a few water bottles in. Seeing how he and Wade hadn't done the dirty, as Francis wanted, he probably wasn't too happy right now.

When finished cleaning himself, Wade tossed the blanket in the corner to die and moved to the corner perpendicular to the one he'd been in and settled down once more. He looked as worn out as Peter felt.

Peter half-heartedly tried to ignore it, but it didn't take long for him to cave. Besides, if he were being honest, he was craving a little contact right now. Nothing sexual. Just snuggling.

If Wade wanted to, of course. If snuggling as bros was over the line than that was fine. Totally cool. Peter just like having someone close after his heat reached its peak.

"So, uh," he picked at the mattress awkwardly, "If you, uh - and you don't have to, but if you want to, you can - um -"

"Do you mind if I share the mattress with you?" Wade asked, curling his legs closer to his chest. For someone so tall and large, he looked positively tiny. He wouldn't meet Peter's eyes and stared at the ground as if it were an old arthritic granny he'd just kicked.

Peter smiled, "Yeah sure. Um, if - if you don't mind, are you okay with...uh..snu-snuggling?" that was a lot weirder to say out loud than he thought. Blushing, Peter quickly turned, hiding his face in the mattress. "Nevermind," he quickly added, "It's stupid. Dumb, even. Pretend I didn't say anything."

"You mean like spooning? That's the best fucking idea I've ever heard," he heard Wade exclaim at his back. Peter peered over his shoulder as Wade hastened over to the mattress. "But I like being the small spoon," he said, settling down, "in case that bothers you."

Peter cracked a grin, "As a matter of fact, I happen to like being the big spoon."

Wade's grin was wide, but his eyes were soft, "A man after my own heart."

And, sure, two grown, naked men snuggling might've been a strange way to end the day. But after only having his fist in other peoples faces as his only form of physical contact, this softer type of contact was wholly appreciated.

And as Wade snuggled next to Peter, using his arm as a makeshift pillow, Peter had a feeling Wade appreciated it too.

I know I keep saying this, but there should only be 1 chapter left. Seriously, there the next chapter should be the last.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

I don't know, this story is gaining a life of its own. Which - no, I don't got time for that. It was supposed to be a small fic. A tiny, itty, bitty ficlet. Stop growing, you monster! D: D: I have other fics to focus on.

Anyway, thank you, everyone, for the amazing comments in the last chapter! :D :D You guys spurred every single word in this chapter!

I'm also working on "Reticent Monsters" new chapter, so hopefully, that will be out soon too! :D 

-OfficialUSMWriter