"Hey Spidey! Psst! Over here!"

A sigh and a roll of the eyes, because, really, Wade was annoying. Spiderman looked up and his eyebrows met his forehead behind his mask. Wade Wilson, also known as Deadpool and one of Peter's closest friends, was hanging from a fire escape on a wire pulley, his mask pulled up to his nose to reveal scarred skin and plump lips.

"Imitating much, Pool Party?" Peter said, sauntering over to his best friend, glad his mask hid the fact that his eyes had zeroed in on Wade's lips. He so rarely saw the man without his mask on, seeing any of his skin was a treat, and this view of his lips would no doubt end in fap material for later...

The grin that spread across Wade's lips was both intensely creepy and horribly endearing. He found himself smiling back and crossed his arms, relaxing slightly in the secluded alley. The sounds of motors and car horns sighed distantly, but here, it was just the two of them. Two friends who had known each other for years, sharing a smile and a laugh.

"Whatya say, Pete?" Wade said, and his voice was lower than normal, deeper. "How about one of those famous Spiderman kisses?"

Peter snorted, and then immediately felt bad about it by the way Wade's grin fell. "Oh. Uh. You're...you're serious?" he asked incredulously.

"You know I never joke about kisses," Wade said, smirking. His voice pitched even lower and one of his hands curled around Peter's neck. "Or the things that follow kisses."

Peter gulped, and grinned beneath his mask. He was never one to miss an opportunity, and this one was especially golden. He'd been lusting after Wade for months now, and if he was offering...far be it from Peter to deny him. His fingers were pulling his mask up over his lips, and his lush lips were sure as they found those of his best friend and sometimes hero partner.

When their lips met...it was as if Peter had found home. A spark, a pulse of light and happiness glowed from where their lips met, snaked it's way down the superhero's throat and settled just above his heart. He'd kissed other people before -more than he was ever willing to admit to his parents- but none of those kisses, not one, was even close to this. This was...this was breath taking, this was all consuming, this was...

It was love.

And it was absolutely electrifying.

The kiss itself was chaste; there were no warring tongues, no lingering and indecent caresses, and only a mild spark of sexual interest. It was a long moment before Peter could find it in himself to pull away from Wade, his eyes flicking open -when had he closed them?- and his lips quirking up in a grin.

"Wow," he said, touching his still tingling lips, his heart thumping heavily in his chest, still warm with the depth of emotion he had felt when kissing Wade. The mercenary grinned at him, swinging his body around and landing upright in front of the hero.

"I second that exclamation," Wade said, tugging his mask back over his face. Peter followed suit, feeling slightly exposed with his face bared.

"So...what brought that on?" Peter asked, feeling his cheeks heat in belated embarrassment. "Not that I mind too terribly, I'm just curious."

Wade seemed to sober, and Peter could tell that his usual grin was missing from under his mask. "I'm going away...for a while," he said, and his voice was, again, deeper than usual. "On a mission. And I just wanted you to know how I felt, you know. Just in case I don't come back."

Peter frowned, curious. "What are you talking about, DP? You always come back from missions," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Deadpool shrugged, and there was a moment of acute tension that made Peter nervous, and then Wade was laughing.

"Yeah, I know. I'm just being melodramatic. See you in a few weeks, Spidey," Wade said, and he was off, rushing through the buildings, out of sight before Spiderman swung away.

Peter shook his head and returned to his Saturday task of protecting New York from criminals and whatnot. He returned to his home, Stark Tower, just five minutes before his curfew, thoroughly bruised and aching, but satisfied with his work. Steve fussed over him, as usual, shoving food and kisses in his face while Tony gave him thumbs ups over the blonds head.

"I know what you're doing, Tony," Steve said as his back was turned to the brunette, who had been congratulating Peter on creative web uses during the bank robbery he had broken up last week. "Stop encouraging him; I'm still hoping this is just a phase."

Tony grinned at Peter, unashamedly. "Hey, if our kid wants to be a hero like his dads, I can't blame him; we are pretty awesome role models," the billionaire said, stealing a fry off Peter's plate.

"Hey! I was gonna eat that!" Peter protested, and only received ruffled hair for his troubles.

"Sorry Squirt. You know the rules; if you aren't guarding it, it's mine," his dad replied, and received a smack to the back of the head, courtesy of Steve. "Ow! What was that for?"

Steve smirked, his blue eyes glimmering with mischief. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Peter snickered at his parents, and returned to his dinner. He focused on his food, but he didn't miss the shared, sad look his parents shared over his head. He frowned to himself, wondering what could illicit such behavior, and then remembered that it was October. He felt a little pang of sadness himself, thinking of the brown eyed, purple shirted and soft spoken man he had never been able to meet.

Bruce Banner had died, seventeen years ago, in October; it was the same month, and ever since he could remember, it had always been a sad one in the Stark-Rogers household. He knew his parents had shared an intense love with the deceased man, and he regretted that he had never known the man who had made his birth possible. Over the years, Peter had noticed all the odd things his parents would do during the month of October; it was almost a bit of a ritual for them. Steve would spend hours in Bruce's old lab, which had remained perfectly preserved since the last day it had been used by its owner, drawing scenes from memory of the biologist doing various scientific things. Tony would sit on the large, old leather couch in the movie room with one of Bruce's purple shirts, a faint smile on his face as he watched old Disney movies. Sometimes Steve or Peter would join him, and they would watch in silence, Peter trying to lend his parent comfort.

But the most intimate ritual happened on the anniversary of Bruce's death. Steve and Tony would start the day early, watching movies with some of Bruce's things near them. If he wasn't at school, Peter would do this with them. When the sun set, however, the couple and their son would retire to the Green Room, and lay together on the enormous bed. No words were exchanged, no condolences given, no sadness expressed. No, the family lay together in silence, the one sound their breathing and the soft jazz Bruce had preferred filtering through Jarvis's speakers. Peter had never thought that doing this with his dads was weird, even when he entered his awkward teen years. He knew that he bore a striking resemblance to the scientist who had been his third father, and he felt no embarrassment or shame in helping his parents through a rough time.

He knew the love his three fathers had shared was pure and lovely; Uncle Thor and Aunt Natasha always spoke of what they had with soft smiles, and reminisced about Bruce with hurt in their eyes. He only wanted to help them, to get to know his third father through those shared moments of jazz music and silence. Sure, both men talked about Bruce; often Tony would remark that Peter's hair stuck up in the back in just the same way that Bruce's had, and then go on to tell one story or another about one of their scientific exploits, or Steve would talk about how Bruce had taught him how to text message, and that only Peter had the patience to teach him technological stuff now. He felt closer to his dads during these stories, but he felt close to Bruce on those quiet nights, really felt connected to the man he had never known.

He stood and rinsed his plate, smiling at his parents and giving each of them a long hug before making his way to his room after saying goodnight. They didn't need him just yet, but they would soon. He showered quickly, washing away the grime and blood of the day, sighing in relief as the hot water cascaded down his skin and sore muscles. He considered having a bit of 'happy shower fun time' but discarded the idea as soon as it came to him. He was too tired and sleep was more important than masturbation.

He finished his shower and dried himself off, throwing himself onto his bed nude and shimmying under the covers. He stared up at his ceiling for a long moment -it was actually a giant plasma scream- watching the star field he usually preferred to view at night loop.

"Jarvis, play Home Movie Zero," he said quietly, feeling a sense of comfort settle over his heart as the screen flickered to life, revealing a shy, smiling Bruce Banner standing next to the artificial womb that had bore him.

"Hey there Brucey," Tony's voice said, and the frame shifted as he walked closer. "You did it. A giant leap forward for mankind. You gave us a baby."

Bruce blushed slightly, his hand touching the womb gently, as if it were fragile. "You helped. And so did Steve. We all gave us a baby," he said, and Peter smiled, closing his eyes. Bruce had a very soothing voice; Peter had imagined it singing him lullabies on more than one occasion, something he would never admit to another soul. He fell into a deep, peaceful sleep to the sound of his third father exchanging playful banter and science speak with his dad...

X0x0x0x0X

"I hate this time of year."

"I know babe. I do, too."

"I miss him."

"I know."

"It's not fair."

"I know."

"He should be here with us. Raising Peter."

"I know."

"I hope...I hope, wherever he is, he know we love him."

"He does, Tony. He does," Steve murmured, pulling his husband closer against his chest. He stroked the soft, slightly graying brown hair, kissing Tony's forehead gently.

Tony looked up at him, his brown eyes gleaming with the light of the Arc reactor, and Steve smiled at him. "I love you, Cap," the billionaire murmured. Steve smiled at him, dropping a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I love you too, Tony," he murmured back. They shared a soft, slow kiss, both of them communicating their love through the simple gesture, both wishing that there was someone else with them to share their love. Seventeen years did little to dull the ache that Bruce's death had left in their hearts, but they had learned to live with it.

They made love, and it was slow and sweet. Their kisses were languid, unhurried, and Steve left large, angry hickies everywhere his mouth could reach. Tony returned the favor, and he wound up on top, riding the super soldier slowly, holding his eyes. They both called out Bruce's name when they found completion, and laid in each others arms after, the love they felt nearly tangible in the air.

"Steve?" Tony murmured as they both lay on the cusp of sleep.

"Hmm?" Steve murred softly back, his eyes heavy.

"Would you ever want to have another child?" Tony question. Steve flicked an eye open, looking at his husband curiously.

"I thought you didn't want any more kids?" he asked softly, gently.

Tony was silent for so long, Steve thought he had fallen asleep. Then: "I think it was selfish of me to demand that of you; I know you wanted a big family and...it took me a long time to realize that losing Bruce didn't mean we had to stop living."

Steve was silent for a long moment, considering his words. "I think...we made the right choice, in not having any more children. I think... I think it would have been painfully obvious that Peter was our favorite."

Tony smiled at that, and nuzzled into Steve's chest more securely. "He is a bit of a spoiled brat, isn't he?"

Steve snorted. "That is entirely your fault, and you know it."

Tony laughed, and closed his eyes. They were quiet, then, and they separated slightly, making a space between them just large enough for a thin scientist.

X0x0x0x0X

Thousands and thousands of miles away, in a world far different than the one Steve and Tony dwelled in, a pair of deep, honey brown eyes opened in the darkness.

"I'm coming back...I'm coming back..."

A/N: Whew. That was an ordeal. Sorry it took so long to get this up, but my modem died, and then my old 2006 desktop kicked the bucket, and...yeah. Anyway, I will try for at least a weekly update, but I'm not making any promises... Please don't lynch me? And review. Those make me happy, and inspire me to work harder. Also, for those who are just joining us, this is the sequel to A Primal Reaction; you might want to go read that before you get confused. Thanks for bearing with me folks.

-Devient