newyorknative | And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife

The morning is largely the same. Well, sort of. It sounds the same. Same old New York traffic, the bustle of the city outside Wade's window. The room, however - it's very different. The walls are painted a light blue, covered in photos - mostly of Wade, actually, although there are some flowers, or pictures of the city. Interspersed are items clearly of Wade's influence - a ratty Star Wars poster, newspaper clippings of the funniest headlines - and so on.

Peter stretched, humming quietly as he opened his eyes. A moment to fumble for his glasses - on a real night stand, no less, because there's a real bed in the room, too - and he smiled at the man sleeping next to him. This Peter was far more relaxed than Wade's probably ever had the privilege to see. He's also not wearing a shirt, or pants, down to just his boxers and apparently alright with it.

"Rise and shine, lazy," Peter poked Wade's side before flopping obnoxiously on his chest and peppering his face with kisses. "Come on, get up, you promised you'd help me today - "

Threaded | Flat

Never in all of Wade Wilson's life had he ever been more comfortable than in this moment. Even with the light trying to stab through his eyelids. It was like he was laying on a cloud. The bed was so incredibly comfortably. He shifted, hand smoothing over the softest sheets he had ever felt. It was almost like someone picked them out knowing that these would irritate his skin the least.

The feel of kisses on his face was definitely welcome, he moaned sleepily as his arms reached up to hold whatever angel was making him feel so comfortable. Rough hands slid upthe other's sides. He sighed, relaxing into the moment until he realized that his mask was off. "Holy shit!" his eyes shot open and he desperately patted the area around him hoping to feel the weight of it. Nope. Then his eyes caught a mop of messy brown hair and brown eyes that always made him feel like he was worth a hell of a lot more than he really was. "Petey...?" Oh, he had to be dreaming. There was no fucking way. Peter was laying on his chest and fuck it felt so good to have him so close to him. "And uh... what did I promise to help you do today?"

Peter's lips were on his face. He didn't have his mask on. Peter could see his face and he wasn't freaking out. There was a lot he had to process. And where the fuck was he?

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