Honestly? That was a big fuckin' tick mark in Wade's column. More loss just - he wouldn't be able to survive it. It was bad enough that Wade could - and did, frequently - get injured, or worse (with Wade, it was always worse, wasn't it?).

Peter pressed his cheek against Wade's knee, sighing softly when his fingers tangled in Peter's mess he called hair. "How does breakfast in bed sound?" He didn't think they'd be getting to the dark room today, and Peter was entirely fine with that. "You and me, feeding each other grapes. Paradise."

"What do you say?" Peter tilted his head, pressing a kiss to Wade's knee before he looked up at him, eyes wide and honest. Hoping Wade would let Peter take care of him for a little while, even if it was just the little things.