[ The last thing that Wade wanted was sidebars. Wade groaned when things were halted, sounding genuinely pained. He was pretty sure he was finally about to get what he wanted, and yet. Stupid Peter and his stupid sexy brain needed to figure out what was going on with Wade. It was going to be a whole thing. Of course he had to end up with a boner for a genius.

However, the easiest way to get Wade to agree to tell him anything was to offer sex. So Peter was going about things the right way. ]

All right, but you better not stop being in the mood just because it's depressing as hell.

It doesn't hurt and it's not genetic. I was a normal dude working as a mercenary until I got diagnosed with inoperable tumors in my liver, lungs, prostate, and brain. It was terminal. I was a test subject for some experimental superhuman enhancement bullshit to try and treat it. I got tortured until it activated, yadda yadda yadda. [ A casual wave of his hand like that was totally normal. Talking about that shit never bothered him, he just didn't want to kill the mood. ] I look like this but the cancer can't kill me, and neither can anything else. Can we do the fingering you until you sob bit, now? Cause I was way more interested in that.

[ His hands moved to the pants of Peter's suit, start to peel it downwards, letting it rest under the curve of his ass. Wade was like a dog with a bone. His mind was only on one thing, and any distraction at all was only going to be temporary. And his focus was clear, he was already popping open the bottle of lube and pouring some on his fingers. ]

I'll even give you a DNA sample, if you want one that bad. [ Cue his stupid eyebrow wiggle. ]