Chapter Text
Peter’s best friend, and the person he trusts the most, would be Deadpool. Ever since the once off-putting mercenary crashed into his life, Peter realized that he could never get rid of him. He was like a piece of tape that kept getting stuck to a different finger every time you tried to pull it off the other. Over the years, though, Peter has grown really fond of that piece of tape. They patrol together nearly every night, they hang out at Wade’s to hang out or strategize, and they come to each other when they need help.
And also when Peter, on the rare occasion, gets his ass handed to him.
Peter groans as he drags his body through Wade's window, landing on his face with his lower half still outside. Slowly, Peter pulls himself through, making a racket as he goes. He rolls over onto his back, limbs splayed out. Everything hurts. Peter’s pretty certain Doc Ock fractured his skull, too. Peter was able to stop him from ransacking the Stark Industries laboratory, but it was a close call. It would have been easier if Wade were there, a bitter part of his brain chimes in. Hopefully Wade is home. He wasn’t able to patrol with him tonight because of some favor Weasel cashed in from Deadpool. Peter stares up at the ceiling, mentally strangling the greasy bartender. He doubts whatever Weasel wanted was more important than fighting an actual supervillain.
If Wade isn’t home, Peter’s probably just going to fall asleep on the floor and wait for him anyway. He doesn’t have anywhere to be right now.
About fifteen– maybe twenty seconds later–the hallway light flicks on. Peter squeezes his eyes shut at the sudden change, the light attacking his gently concussed brain. Peter groans and shields his eyes with his hand. When he cranes his neck to look back into the hall, everything upside down for him now, he sees Wade at the end of it. He’s still in his full suit and gear. He probably just got home, then. Great timing, actually. Wade's eyes go comically wide as he lowers the gun he was pointing at Peter.
Usually whenever there is a gun in Peter’s vicinity, his spidey senses go wild. They’re anxious at best when one is lowered or still undrawn. Peter has concluded that it’s probably because of his PTSD in the accident with uncle Ben. He’s had to learn to differentiate between his helpful senses and the senses that are a byproduct of his paranoia over the years. Telling his senses that there is no danger is easier said than done, though, when that’s what they’re there for. Though, when it comes to Wade, they’re always dead quiet. Even though Wade just had a gun on him moments ago, his senses were silent. It puts a fond feeling in Peter's chest, which is sometimes a weird pairing on the rare occasion Peter ends up at the other end of Deadpools barrel, for whatever reason. Like now.
“Damn, Spidey, I’ve seen hookers with more clothes on. What the hell happened?”
Peter looks down at his body, wincing when he sees the state of his suit. Wade is overexaggerating, of course, but there are a good few chunks of his suit that have been shredded. His chest down to his abdomen is torn to shit, a sizable bruise on his chest from where Doc Ock had got him pretty good with one of his robotic tentacles. Doc Ock was going to close his claw around him, and probably crush his rib cage, but Peter had evaded the claw by the skin of his teeth. His suit, though, did not. His claw grabbed the fabric, and it got torn from his body. Peter remembers feeling colder than before, but he was so hopped up on adrenaline that he didn’t bother to check.
Peter sighed and let his head roll back to the floor, eyes shutting. When a shadow loomed over him, Peter opened his eyes again. Deadpool was on his haunches, watching Peter quietly. His mask was off now, and Peter could tell that Deadpool was concerned for him. Usually when Wade is upset, he gets quiet. Peter tried to look and sound more clear-headed than he was for his friends' sake.
“Doc Ock got a souvenir.” Peter grumbled, rubbing his hands over his masked face and back down again.
“Awww!” Wade let out a whine that morphed into a groan. “No fair! He takes off your clothes and you call it a souvenir, but when I try to do it, you call me a pervert.”
“It’s because you are a pervert.” Peter mumbles. He slides his hands down to rest on his chest and shuts his eyes. He’s so tired, and the cold floor feels wonderful on his sore back. If Wade hasn’t found him earlier, he’d probably be asleep by now.
Wade interrupts his two seconds of shut-eye.
“Yes I am! Boop!” Wade suddenly pokes Peter's exposed nipple, and Peter finds the energy to smack his hand away before Wade can retract it fully.
“I remember a certain spider telling me to not let you fall asleep when you come crawling through my window half-dead.” Wade speaks, amused. “And a certain sex machine agreeing.”
“This is how you treat your favorite superhero?” Peter bemoans. “I come to you for help, and you call me a hooker and molest me.”
“You came to me for help-” Wade pulls his phone out of his pocket, typing something into it before holding it up to his ear. “-AKA Deadpool, and you expect better of me?”
Peter frowns, thinking it over. Then, he lets out a long sigh. “No.”
Wade pats him on the shoulder before speaking into the phone. He wedges it in between his ear and elbow, reaching down towards Peter. “Heeey, Nikki. I need double my usual order and pronto. I’ll leave the money plus tip under the mat, just ring the doorbell and leave the pies there.”
When he feels Wade grab him from under his arms, Peter lets out a whine of his own. Partly because of the pain, but also because he just feels like being a little dramatic. It earns a laugh from Wade, so it’s a win in Peter’s book. Wade drags him away from the window and down the hall before helping him up onto the couch. When Peter looks over, he can see that Wade was in the middle of unequipping his gear. His katanas lay flat on the coffee table, as well as a grenade. Peter raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t mention it.
“Oh, and also don’t forget extra marinara and ranch.” Wade stands up straight, planting his hand on his hip. “Thanks, pookie. Bye-bye.”
Wade hangs up and turns to Peter, tossing the phone over his shoulder. It lands on the carpet somewhere behind him.
“Okay, we’ve got about 35 minutes to get all of-” Wade gestures towards Peter. “-this cleaned up.”
Peter just grunts in reply. “Can I use your shower?”
Wade gestures off towards the restroom with a little bow and curtsy. Peter smiles despite himself before moving to leave the couch. When he pushes himself up, his arms shake a little from overuse. He lets out a groan, and Wade's hand flinches out towards him an inch.
“Hey, you need help getting there? You can also take a bath if it’s hard to stand.” He offers, sounding a bit concerned. Peter could argue like he used to, but he’s learned that it’s easier for both of them if Peter accepts his help. So, he nods. Wade helps him up onto his feet, making sure that Peter doesn’t fall or trip along the way.
When Deadpool places his hand against the small of Peter's back, he feels oddly warm.
Okay, maybe not that odd. Slowly, to Peter's surprise, he’s realized that he’d fallen for the mercenary somewhere in the past five years they’ve been friends. And boy, did he fall hard.
Recently, Peter has been genuinely considering telling Wade who he is out of the suit. The thought doesn’t scare him as much as he thought it would. When his aunt May passed away a few years ago, Deadpool was there for him through it all. He took Peter’s patrols when he was too depressed to, gave Peter space when he needed it, invaded it when necessary, and let Peter crash at his for a few months. Deadpool was a good distraction. Those few months were enough to make Peter realize that he trusted Deadpool wholeheartedly.
There is something holding Peter back, though.
It’s that Peter’s current life is just kind of pathetic, and Peter doesn’t want Deadpool seeing him that way. Deadpool likes to theorize about what Peter does for work, since he’s “So smart for a smartass”. Oftentimes, what he guesses are way above what Peter could possibly achieve at the moment. He also thinks that Peter lives in a nice apartment somewhere uptown. Something with lots of sunlight and expensive furniture. All of these scenarios were wrong, of course. They couldn’t be further from the truth if they tried.
In all reality, Peter is working for a newspaper company that hates Spiderman, still in college, and is squatting in an abandoned building that doesn’t have plumbing. He couldn’t pay for rent, food, and college on his own with aunt May gone. So, Peter had converted an old stash site for his clothes and other belongings while he was patrolling into a make-shift home. It’s high up on a sixth floor building, so no one bothers him, which is nice. The actual “house” part takes up about half the roof, and isn’t the roomiest place, but it works for him.
Peter thinks it was used for storage at some point, but during renovations, roof access had been sealed off with concrete and bricks for some reason he can’t comprehend. Peter covers it with a few posters. He doesn’t plan on staying there forever, since he’s realized just how much plumping matters.
He has a subscription to a gym just to use their showers. He knows it’s sad, but it works.
Peter has just two terms left in college before he gets his duel-PhD in Biochemistry and Engineering. After that, he already has a job as a molecular biologist at Stark Industries. As Peter Parker, of course. After that, he can quit his photography job and save up for an actual apartment.
So, until then, he absolutely cannot let Wade know who he is.
Just six more months, and Peter will be everything Deadpool thinks he is. That doesn’t mean he can’t start thinning the line between Spiderman and Peter, though. He’ll slowly erase that line between them so when it’s time to unmask, it’ll be a whole lot less daunting. It’s a part of Peter’s six month plan.
“Good thing I don’t have to call into work since all I do is freelance.” Peter walks through the bathroom door, and doesn’t shut it behind him. Wade stands at the entrance before leaning his shoulder against it, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh yeah? Whaddya’ do?” He asks passively, knowing he’ll probably get deflected.
Peter takes his ruined shirt off, bundling the fabric and setting it on the sink counter. He sighs internally when he realizes it’s beyond saving. Luckily, in the decade he’s been Spiderman, he made a few extra suits for situations like this. Peter turns on the water for the tub and sits on the edge while he works on taking his shoes off.
“Photography.” Peter says without hesitation, which causes Wade to pause.
“Really?” Wade hums pleasantly. “You do weddings and stuff?”
“No. Well, I mean I would if asked.” Peter struggles with his other shoe, limbs feeling weak still. “I work for a newspaper place. I’m pretty good at it, too. Sometimes I win awards.”
“Okay, what’s happening here?” Wade leans forward and grabs Peter's heel, yanking the shoe off in one tug. Peter feels his insides stir like molasses from the action. That really shouldn’t have turned him on like it did. “Did Doc Ock hit you with some truth serum? Or is this the concussion talking? Why are you so open tonight?”
Peter shrugs and shimmies out of his pants, hissing a bit when he goes over an unseen bruise. He peels the leggings off and tosses them to where his shoes landed. Wade must be caught off guard by Peter’s behavior since he hasn’t made one mention about Spiderman stripping to take a bath in front of him. That or Wade hasn’t mentioned it in hopes that Peter forgets to kick him out. It’s probably the ladder.
Peter thinks about his words for a moment before speaking.
“Maybe I just want to tell you things about me.” Peter rolls up his mask to rest over his nose, taking the first breath of fresh air of the night. “We’ve been friends for like, what, five years now? You always answer whatever questions I have about your life, so I thought it’d be fair to share mine.”
Wade stares for a moment, looking a bit stunned. “Really?”
Peter smiles. “Really, really.”
Wade’s face breaks out into a contagious smile. He quickly takes a seat in front of Peter and the bathtub, rubbing his hands together excitedly.
“Can I ask questions?” He speaks. “Please, please, please!”
Peter just laughs. “Yeah. I’ll answer five yes-or-no questions honestly. If you get me a pair of shades and a lot of bubble bath.”
He’s never seen Wade move so quickly. He scrambles to his feet and runs out of the door. In half a minute, Peter is handed a pair of cheap red plastic rimmed sunglasses and two bottles of bubble soap. Peter drains half a bottle into the bath, watching it work its magic. He swishes his hand around in it to make it work faster.
“So, what do you need the sunglasses for–” Wade's question is interrupted by the doorbell ringing.
“Pizza!” Wade gets up, patting Peter on the shoulder. His gloves are magically gone, his bare hands linger on Peter's skin for much longer than needed. Peter rolls his eyes fondly. “BRB bestie!”
When Wade leaves the bathroom, Peter quickly takes off his underwear and sinks into the water. The bubbles are thick and foamy, so he knows that Wade won't be able to sneak a peek. Then, Peter jumps the gun a bit. He’ll still stick to his plan, but he also really wants to wash his hair. The urge to become closer with Wade also fuels this probably dumb decision.
Peter takes a deep breath before taking his mask off.
He tosses it to the pile without looking, and slips on the sunglasses. Peter sighs and settles into the tub more comfortably, spreading his arms out on the lip of the tub. He lays his head back and shuts his eyes, trying to calm his heart rate. He’s always really liked Wade's bathtub. Well, honestly, any bathtub when he has the chance to enjoy one. The bonus to this one being it’s in Wade's house. The gym doesn’t have bathtubs, obviously.
Peter cracks an eye open when he hears Wade approaching.
“I’ve got two large meat lovers pizzas, a box of wings, a shit ton of garlic knots and-” Wade nearly drops all of the food he’s carrying when he sees Peter. He comes to a screeching halt, his mouth hanging open. Wade's eyes dart around, taking all of Peter in. He looks torn between looking away and staring openly, which causes Peter to laugh.
“I’m hungry. Stop staring, or I’ll grab the bottom box with my web shooters.”
This draws Wade out of his shock. He continues forward, sitting down on the floor by the tub. “Well, fucking excuse me for being a little stunned at seeing you completely naked without your mask.”
“I’ve got bubbles and glasses.” Peter leans over and grabs a slice of pizza, consuming it in three bites. He swallows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Wade pointedly slides the napkins closer to Peter.
“One, I don’t think a pair of glasses is enough to protect your anonymity. Two, can I join you?”
“Clark Kent effect. And, no. That’s your first question, by the way.” Peter grabs another slice.
Wade groans. “That’s dirty, webs.”
“Good thing I’m taking a bath.” Peter speaks around a mouthful.
Wade hums in agreement, now just openly checking out whatever part of Peter is exposed. They both eat in comfortable silence as Wade thinks of questions to ask. Once Peter has had his share, he wipes his hands off on a wad of napkins, and sinks further down into the tub.
“Do I already know your secret identity?” Wade asks slowly, probably being cautiously curious about where the boundaries of this game are.
“I don’t think so?” Peter tries to think. He glances over at Wade. “Do you?”
“Nah, bro code and all that.” Wade pops a garlic knot in his mouth. He wipes his greasy fingers off on the arm Peter is hanging out of the tub. Peter flicks some water his way in retaliation. Then, his next question comes out faster than the last.
“Do you finger yourself?”
Peter sends Wade a disapproving look. He’s used to Wades… blunt approach to flirting. Well, what he hopes is flirting. Peter isn’t a fool, he knows that Wade has feelings for him. He’ll approach that around the same time Wade officially meets Peter Parker. For now, though, he’s comfortable with this maybe-situationship/broship he’s in.
“No.” Peter deadpans.
“Noted.” Wade grabs a thing of nail polish from somewhere. He scoots closer and grabs Peter's left hand, propping it on top of his knee before uncapping the polish. Peter lets him, sneaking a glance at the color. Hot pink. Nice.
“Do you have a crush on somebody?” Wade speaks like a girl at a slumber party, smiling slyly as he starts with Peter's thumb, holding his hand now.
This question causes Peter to pause. He tongues the inside of his cheek, tasting remnants of garlic. After a moment, he answers.
“...Yes.”
If the mercenary had any reaction, he doesn’t let it show. He just giggles and starts on Peter's pointer finger.
“Noted.”
Peter lets Wade finish his hand before he dips his head back into the water, letting his hair soak for a moment before resurfacing. He brushes wet curls out of his face, sliding his free hand through them to push them back.
“Ugh, you’re so hot, it’s unfair.” Wade moans.
Peter flashes a smile. Whether Peter meant to poke his knee up out of the water as a tease or not is between him and god. This only further draws explicit sounds out of Wade. He clings to the side of the tub with both hands, looking like something out of a dramatic painting.
“Fuuuck.” He groans. “You’re like a walking wet dream.”
“You still have another question.” Peter looks over his nails, noting that they’re flawless. He hums, genuinely impressed.
“I want to wash your hair.” Wade states rather than asks, probably to avoid Peter's monkey-paw shit.
“Sure, just be careful with the glasses.” Peter shifts so his back is facing Wade.
“I can do one better.” Wade places a hand towel into the water and lets it warm up before wringing it out. He replaces Peter's glasses with the warm towel, and Peter sighs in appreciation. Wade gets to work. He lathers Peter's hair with something expensive smelling, gliding calloused fingers over his sensitive scalp. Peter practically flat lines. Wade's head massage pulls appreciative sighs and hums from him.
The two of them have gotten pretty used to each other's touch. It started with touching each other the way friends do. Briefly, and in justifiably platonic ways. Then, the occasional hug when they knew each other better. Once Peter became more comfortable with Deadpool, his touch tolerance had drastically increased. Soon, Peter was resting his legs over Wades when they hung out, or letting the hugs and touches linger for longer than necessary. Deadpool had eventually picked up on Peter's seemingly endless tolerance for physical contact, and ever since then he’s been trying to find the line.
Sometimes Deadpool will really test the boundaries. The first time he did, it was laying his head on Peter's lap. He disguised it as a joke, but when Peter didn’t push him off, Deadpool didn’t move.
Since then, Wade's flirting has been kicked up to eleven.
Peter isn’t sure if there is a line, though. Deadpool may be realizing that now, as he’s literally washing Peter's hair. Peter wouldn’t be surprised if Wade tries to push the boundaries again soon. As if on cue, Deadpool's hands guide Peter to sit up a bit before he massages his hands down Peter's neck and shoulders. Peter sighs, fully relaxing into his hands.
Suddenly, Wade gasps. “Am I fucking wine and dining you right now?”
Peter laughs, shaking his head. “You really want that to be your last question?”
“Ugh, you’re such a rules' lawyer.” Wade complains before pushing his fingers into a knot in Peter's neck. Peter groans and lets his head fall to the side, giving Wade better access.
“You keep doing shit like that, I’ll probably have to join you after I’ve made a mess of my own.” Wade presses into that spot again, probably trying to recreate the reaction.
“Pervert.” Peter jests.
“Can you blame me? With you moaning and squirming in my bathtub naked?”
“You still have a question left.” Peter points out. He smiles when he practically hears Wade roll his eyes behind him.
“Okay, fine. Have you ever had a wet dream about me?”
Peter pauses. Once he answers this, Wade is never going to forget it. The answer is yes. Often. Though, he doesn’t have to admit that last part. Peter goes silent for a while, just allowing himself to enjoy the massage while mulling over his thoughts. Eventually, he breaks the silence.
“Yes.” When Peter says this, Wade freezes behind him.
“...Yes?” Wade speaks curiously, officially caught off guard. Peter sighs and replaces the rag with his sunglasses before turning back around in the tub.
“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head.” Peter smiles coyly. He leans back in the tub, arms resting on the rim. Peter really likes the way Wade is looking at him, a mixture of shock and lust. Wade is hanging on every breath Peter takes, and it’s exhilarating.
“Which one?” Wade asks, which elicits a bark of laughter from Peter.
“Knowing you...” Peter's smile turns more genuine. “Both.”
“Too late.”
Peter rolls his eyes.
“See, even with the sunglasses on, I can tell you’re doing the eye roll thing. Your whole head moves with it.” Wade points out before sticking a hand in the water, playing with the bubbles. Peter watches the hand with idle suspicion.
“Well maybe don’t make me roll my eyes, then.”
“But it’s so hot and really does something for me.” Wade groans, sinking his hand further down into the water. Peter watches, raising an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything yet.
“I have a weird feeling that question five is going to come around and bite me in the ass.” Peter sighs melodramatically, a hint of a smile on his mouth.
“I would bite more than just your ass.” Wade smiles back lecherously.
Peter lets his knees part just a little, enjoying the choked sound it brings out of Wade. Peter sees the way Wade’s eyes dart to the bubbles between Peter's legs, probably wishing he had X-Ray vision. Peter tilts his head to the side and rests his cheek against his fist.
“You trying to kill me, Webs?” Wade asks, sounding a bit pained.
“Maybe.” Peter grabs the rag and dunks it in the water, squeezing it out over his head to get the suds out.
“You are free to kick me out of the bathroom–or even my own apartment–at any time, but I have a tiny question.” Wade speaks, arm still feeling around for something in the water.
“Shoot.”
“Is there sexual tension or is it just me?” Wade asks cautiously.
Peter thinks for a moment, leaving Wade hanging. Perhaps Peter can jump the gun just a bit more. After about five seconds, he answers.
“There is…” Peter speaks slowly, looking Wade over. “Why?”
“I really want to do something about it.” Wade proposes. Peter really wants to do something about it as well. He can’t, but he can certainly get back at Wade for all of his incessant flirting he’s deployed on Peter since day one.
“Like what?” Peter asks innocently, looking over his nails again.
“Like fuck you hard enough to make you regret starting this little game of yours.” Wade’s staring at Peter like he wants to devour him. Peter doesn’t help himself in the slightest, letting his legs open just a bit further.
“Yeah? It’s tempting…” Peter knows he’s poking the bear, but it feels exhilarating. Like he finally has one over Wade. “What are you doing with your hand?” Peter nudges Wade's arm with his foot.
“Looking for the plug.” Wade answers innocently.
“It’s under my ass, so don’t even try it.” Peter kicks Wade's hand out of the tub.
Wade groans, back to looking pitiful. “But that just makes it better.”
Peter snorts. “Okay, get out, I need to rinse off.”
“Fiiiine.” Wade stands up. “I swear I’m going to be the first person in the world to die from being blue balled.”
“We can talk later.” Peter pulls the plug, holding it above the water loosely in his grasp. Wade looks back from the door, watching the water level decrease slowly before looking Peter in the eyes.
“Talk about what?” He raises an eyebrow.
“About…” Peter gestures between them. “Us, I guess.” He shrugs noncommittally.
Wades other eyebrow joins the first. “Actually?”
“Yeah.” Peter feels himself flush a bit. “Just not now.”
Wade nods, and salutes. “You got it! I’ll bring you a change of clothes.” He gathers the boxes on the floor and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Peter sighs out slowly and stands up. He draws the curtain forward and turns the shower on.
After playing COD with Wade for a few hours and eating the rest of his food, Wade gave him a hoodie and some sweatpants to swing home in so he isn’t flying across all of New York half naked. He smiled all the way home, a warm feeling cradled in his chest.
-
Peter had just dropped off a folder of photos to Jameson, and was already ready for the day to be over with. It’s a cold day, Peter stepped in something gross on the way to work, and his boss is being extra himself today. So, the day hasn’t exactly been great. He walks away from Jameson's office and towards his cubicle that Peter hardly ever uses. Peter sits down at his desk for a moment, booting up the computer so he can forward some photocopied photos he took a while ago that a coworker wanted for an article on a sports team. Peter leans back in his chair and watches the old thing boot up. After this, he can go home and study for his upcoming finals.
“I like your nails.” One of his coworkers points out as they walk by.
“Thanks.” Peter replies before looking at his hand. It’s just the left hand that Wade painted. Even though he’s never worn nail polish before, and certainly not in this color, but he didn’t have the heart to pick it off. It’s chipped a little here and there since then, but the sight of them makes Peter warm and a little melty inside. It’s a nice reminder on a shitty day like today.
Peter also has yet to return Wade's hoodie, which is like twice the size on him. It’s winter, though, and it’s keeping him warm, and it smells like Wade. So, yeah, Peter is probably never going to return it. He hums softly to himself, sitting back up once he’s able to log into his computer. He starts typing in his password, but the old piece of junk crashes again. Peter sighs through his nose, irritation rising. He waits for it to reboot, bouncing his leg impatiently.
Then, Peter's phone vibrates. Peter grabs it and opens his lockscreen, seeing Wade's icon pop up. His mood drastically improves, a smile stretching across his face. He sits up in his seat and opens the chat, forgetting about today's concerns.
hey bb boy <3<3<3
i kno u said 2 leave that dumb stupid newspaper place alone…
the 1 that bad mouths u
Yeah?
don’t b mad but i sort of kidnapped their photographer
??????? What???
Peter stares at the screen, rereading the text over and over again. What is Wade talking about? Which photographer? There are only two, and they’re both in the room right now. When did Wade kidnap them, and why? Did he kidnap the wrong person? Peter starts to spam Wade's phone, eyebrows furrowed. His messages go unread, though. He stands to go call him outside, but just as he leaves his desk, he hears something that causes him to pause.
“Is this the right floor to speak with one Mr. Jameson?” A familiar muffled voice speaks from the hall.
Oh. Oh no.
Peter's eyes go wide, and he slowly walks back into his cubicle, sitting down at the desk. Wade wouldn’t… Would he?
“You can’t just–” The door to the office opens. “-go in there!” Someone calls out, following Deadpool into the office.
“You’re such a dear, thanks for the escort.” Deadpool walks in like he owns the place, drawing everyone in the office's attention. The office is dead quiet with shock. Peter peeks up over the cubicle, watching Wade approach Jameson’s office. Wade looks his way for a second, scanning the room, and Peter ducks his head back down. Shit, shit, shit. After a few moments, Peter raises his head again. Luckily, Wade has moved his attention elsewhere.
Deadpool grabs the doorknob to Jameson’s office, throwing it open.
“Jamey!” Deadpool throws his arms open. “I need to ask a favor.”
“Get the hell out, you miserable mutant!” Jameson yells, his face red. “Out! Out of my establishment now, before I call the police!”
Deadpool laughs. “And what are they going to do? Shoot me?” He chides.
“GET OUT!” Jameson yells, pointing towards where the exit would be adjacent to his office.
“Yeah, yeah.” Wade waves a hand at him. “I’ll get out of this roach infested building as soon as I get what I came for. And I don’t mean an actual roach infestation, bee-tee-dubs. I’m actually here to pick out a brand new puppy!” Wade claps his hands excitedly.
Jameson’s eye twitches. “Do you not understand what “Get out” means!?”
Deadpool sighs, which turns into a groan as he drops his shoulder. “Okay, I didn’t want to have to do this.” Wade grabs a gun from his holster and points it at Jameson. “Where the fuck is Peter Parker?”
Peter’s heart drops, suddenly realizing what Wade’s texts were about. Ask for forgiveness, and not permission. Peter can feel his blood pressure rising as anger takes him by storm.
Oh, Peter’s going to…! …To! …He’s going to do something, alright!
Some of his coworkers look his way, confused, and Peter shakes his head rapidly, hoping they’ll look away. He doesn’t need them drawing attention to him.
“A-Aren’t you a friend of Spiderman…?” Someone upfront speaks. “He wouldn’t like you to-”
Deadpool lazily points the gun at the person without looking, shutting them up instantly. People gasp, ducking their heads. From here, Peter can instantly tell that the entire mag of the gun is out. Peter relaxes instantly before rolling his eyes at the scene. Maybe everyone is too scared to notice, or too scared to point it out to Deadpool. Wade looks over at the poor sucker who caught his attention.
“You really want to go with that argument?” Wade inquires, raising an eyebrow. “After yesterday's headline?”
Peter cringes a little at the mention. Yesterday's headline of Spiderman was definitely in the top ten of the worst he’s seen. Jameson really had it out for him that day. He knows Wade “buys” them to collect the photos Peter takes of himself as Spiderman, which was honestly a huge compliment. It was a little creepy when he found the album a few years ago, though, when he didn’t have such a high opinion of Deadpool at the time.
He’s guessing Wade collected his morning paper and had a few choice words about it.
“S-Sorry.” The coworker replies meekly and sits back down.
Peter looks down at his nails and the hoodie he’s wearing, panicking a little. He should slip out of here before Deadpool finds him. The hoodie isn’t exactly incriminating, it’s just a black hoodie, but paired with his nails… Peter sighs. Deadpool won't hurt anyone here. He can just leave, change into his suit, and come back to drag the mercenary away. Then, he’ll really give it to him!
The dialing of a phone could be heard coming from Jameson’s office, drawing everyone's attention. Deadpool takes out a knife from his belt and throws it, pinning his phone to the wall. The following silence is deafening. Peter has never seen Jameson get so red in the face before. It’s going to be a rough few days after Deadpool leaves.
“What the hell do you want with my photographer!?” He yells, teeth grit.
“That’s between me and him, daddy dearest. I’ll be sure to return him home no later than 9:00 PM.” Wade points towards his knife. “Mind handing that back?”
Jameson pries it free and throws it at Wade, sticking him right in the gut. Deadpool looks down, humming in surprise. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” Wade takes the knife out of his gut and sheaths it before squeezing his hands down on either side of the wound, squirting a lot of blood onto the carpet. Someone nearby faints. Peter facepalms, dragging his hand down his face.
“Have fun with the carpet bill, I heard blood is a bitch to get out.” Wade blows a kiss that turns into a middle finger. Then, he turns and scans the office slowly. Luckily, Peter never uploaded a proper photo to the employee database. He still has the default icon up. Wade is probably trying to scan for people that aren’t familiar from the webpage. Peter keeps his head down.
“You there, Brian. Where’s the dweeb at? I don’t have all day, and I’m starting to get impatient.” The sounds of gasps fill the room, which probably means Wade is waving his gun around again. Peter sets his backpack down and pushes it under the desk, grabbing his suit from it. He stuffs it under the hoodie and his shirt, making sure it won't fall out by accident.
“H-How do you know my name…?” Brian speaks nervously.
Wade blinks, looking down at him blankly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to be rude.”
“O-Oh.” Brian says.
“Awkward…” Wade hisses. “So, Burt, where’s the dweeb at?”
Peter will hand it to the office, they did stick this out for a good while before caving. The room goes quiet as Peter is most likely sold out, but Peter is already out of his cubicle. Deadpool whistles casually, heading his way. The sound of heavy footsteps get closer to where Peter’s desk is just as Peter rounds the first corner. He crouches along the desks, planning on doing a full circle around the office and to the front door.
He’ll make a break for it then, and draw Deadpool out of the office.
When Peter gets to the next corner, a woman suddenly puts a hand out in front of him. Peter looks up, tilting his head to the side. It’s the nice lady who complimented his nails. He thinks her name is Aditi? She points to the corner where Peter was headed, shaking her head. Peter taps into his super hearing for a moment, and realizes that Wade is about to round the corner he was heading for. He was trying to flank after seeing Peter’s desk empty. Shit. The woman moves her legs aside and beckons him forward with urgency.
Peter quickly crawls under her desk, and she hides him with her legs. Seconds later, Wade jumps around the corner.
“BOO!” Wade shouts, arms held out, but pauses when he sees that the lane is empty. He scratches at his head. “Huh. Maybe he isn’t as stupid as I thought.”
Peter simmers, glaring at what he could see of Wade.
“Ohhh, Peeeteeey, where are thee?” Wade sings as he walks down the aisle. “I love a good game of hide and seek, but I’m on a bit of a time limit here.”
Yeah, because you’re expecting Spiderman to come stop you.
When Wade rounds the corner back towards Peter’s desk, Peter makes his move.
Peter mouths “Thank you” up to Aditi and crawls out of the cubicle, going the way Wade just went. He peeks out from around the corner, finding it empty. Just ahead is the exit to the rest of the building. Peter doesn’t think about how it’s weird that Wade suddenly disappeared, and just goes for it. He crawls down the aisle, and past his own desk, about to stand and run for it. However, he freezes for just a moment when he sees Deadpool at his cubicle sitting in his chair.
“Oh, there you are!” Deadpool lunges for him, but Peter rolls forward before he can get grabbed.
“You little ninja!” Wade calls out as Peter gets to his feet. Peter runs for the door, hand outstretched for the knob. Then, suddenly, the sound of something hitting the ground catches his attention. Horrified gasps ring out through the office, followed by panic. Peter stops dead when he sees a fucking grenade slide through his legs, eyes wide. It rolls forward and stops with a thud when it hits the door. He nearly trips from how quickly he stopped, arms flailing.
Then, two strong hands pick him up from under his arms. Peter gets thrown over Wade's shoulder, coaxing a grunt out of him as his stomach folds on solid muscle. Wade laughs like he’s in on some inside joke, bending down to pick up the grenade.
“Hah! You should have seen the looks on your faces. It was a fake, obviously. You really thought I’d waste a grenade on all of you?”
Peter glares at Wades back, appalled by Wades underhanded tactics and his own gullibility.
Wade laughs a bit more before looking towards Jaminsons office, wiping a fake tear away.
“Borrowing this for a sec, okay? Thanks, Jamey!” Wade waves before turning away from the front door. Instead, Wade goes out of his way to leave through the emergency exit, triggering the alarm system immediately.
Once they’re outside, Peter struggles against his hold, using just a bit more strength than the average person.
“Jesus, I’ve caught a live one.” Deadpool locks a hand around the back of Peter's knees, keeping him in place. Peter grabs Wade's katana, unsheathing and… Well, he isn’t sure what, but he’s got it now.
“Hey, stop messing with my shit, you little brat! That’s a dangerous weapon you’re playing with! I can see where all the balls in the office went. The pair on you must put tanuki statues to shame.” Wade reaches his hand back, trying to snatch it from Peter, but Peter hits the handle against Wade's hand instead.
“Ow! What the shit!?” Wade yelps.
Wade only has to climb two floors of the fire exit before he makes it to the roof. Wind blows Peter's hair back and forth wildly, blocking his vision for a bit. The mercenary grabs Peter by his hood, hauling him off and setting him on his feet. He makes another grab for his katana, but Peter steps out of reach. He quickly pockets his left hand, holding Wades katana in the other. Peter takes a quick peak down, noting that it’s Bea.
“Well, don’t you look causu…” Wade stops talking when he gets a better look at Peter, squinting. “Huh. You’re familiar.”
Peter glares up at him. “I’m going to bend this in half if you don’t start talking.” He’d never do that, but he can still bluff.
Wade guffaws, eyebrows raising skyward. “This is supposed to be your interrogation, not mine!” He points at Peter.
“Whatever. I’m going back to work if you’re not going to get to the point.” Peter turns towards the fire exit, but Wade catches his arm and tugs him back. He tries to grab Bea again, but Peter keeps it out of reach stubbornly. He tears his arm away from Wade and faces him defiantly.
“And I am confiscating this!” He’s pissed at Wade, and it must show on his face.
Wade laughs abruptly. “Aren’t you supposed to be scared?”
Peter smiles angrily. “Aren’t you supposed to be scary?”
Wade goes silent, a blank look on his face. Peter stares right back. Then, slowly, Wade starts to laugh. He doubles over, hands on his knees. When he raises, he wipes a fake tear from his mask and rolls his shoulders. He gets this look on his face that speaks of trouble. Deadpool suddenly gets a lot more serious, evident in his body language.
“Alright, that’s it. Playtime is over.” He tries to sweep Peter's legs out from under him, but Peter casually dodges, jumping over the attack and landing just as easy. He didn’t even have to take his hand out of his pocket. Peter can see the moment when Wade realizes that Peter isn’t going to go easy.
And he’d be right, but Peter doesn’t want to draw any more suspicion to himself. He needs to draw a hard line between Peter and Deadpool.
Sorry, Bea.
Peter takes Bea and throws her towards the edge of the building. Wade gasps and looks back and forth between Bea and Peter several times before groaning. He uses his teleporter to zap over to the edge, grabbing Bea before she falls off. Wade sheaths it back, and looks towards Peter. Or, where Peter was.
As Peter walks down the fire exit, he hears something familiar drop down on the grate above him. He looks up to spot Deadpool descending the stairs after him. Peter knew this wasn’t going to be as easy as walking away. He turns towards the railing and runs, hopping off of the fire escape to land on a lower building. Just as Peter reaches the other side of the building, he hears Deadpool call out to him.
“Yoo-Hoo! There you are, mister!” Deadpool drops onto the roof Peter is on, his boots thudding heavily with the impact. Peter stays on the ledge anxiously, trying to figure out where he should go from here.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it is rude to ditch a date like that?” Deadpool walks up, stopping a few feet short of Peter. For some reason, that comment just makes him angrier.
“This is a date now?” Peter eyes him suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“Well, that depends.” Wade hums, making a show about walking around as if deep in thought. Peter watches his every move, feet glued to the ground. “Are we both going to be honest first?” Deadpool pauses to look at him. What is he talking about? After a long stretch of silence, Peter cracks.
“...Yeah?” Peter looks to the floor.
“Ap, ap, ap! Eyes up here!” Peter grimaces slightly before looking Deadpool in the eyes.
“Then, if we’re being honest…” Deadpool walks closer, pointing at Peter's pocket. “Why won’t you show me your hand?”
Chills go up Peter's spine at the insinuation. Does Deadpool know? Does he actually know that he’s Spiderman? Peter shoots Deadpool a glare, feeling like any answer he gives wont do anything to dissuade Deadpool from whatever point he has in mind. Peter isn’t even frustrated at Deadpool. He’s just frustrated, period. Well, no, he’s actually still pretty pissed at Deadpool for pulling this shit even though he knows Spiderman told him no.
“You got a gun or something?” Wade questions, and Peter blinks. Oh.
“...No.” Peter says slowly, but keeps his hand in his pocket.
Wade raises his eyebrows, eyes squinted. “...Yeah, sure. Hand it over.” He holds his hand out, beckoning him forward.
“It isn’t a gun. Even if it was, what could I do with it? Best thing I could do is shoot you in the head for a couple extra minutes head start, but I doubt I’d get far.” Peter would get far, and he could scratch the nail polish off, but Peter would never do that to Wade.
“True, but I still want whatever’s in your pocket.”
“Not happening.”
Wade sighs with his whole body. “You are the most aggravating hostage I’ve ever had.”
“Funny, can’t say the same for you. I’ve had far more annoying captors.” Peter smiles pointedly.
“Who the hell else has kidnapped you?” Wade speaks, looking baffled.
“Green Goblin.”
“Green Go–What the fuck!?” Wade sputters. “What kind of life do you live!?”
Peter shrugs, putting his other hand in his pocket casually. He kicks a rock with his shoe, watching it bounce towards Wade. “A fun one, obviously.”
“My god, here I was thinking I’d scare The Daily Bugle's best photographer out of the business, but he had to have all the shits scared out of him already.” Wade grumbles to himself, getting frustrated. Peter picks it up because of his super hearing.
“Why?” Peter huffs.
Deadpool blinks, but recuperates quickly. “You’re the only good thing about that shithole. It would hurt The Daily Bugles business to lose such a talented photographer, probably. Or at the very least, it would be a big pain in the ass for your boss.”
“...That’s all?” Peter raises an eyebrow. He tries not to feel warm at the flattery. He’s mad at Wade.
“...Well, yeah.” Wade shrugs. “So, can you?”
“Can I do what?” Peter frowns.
“Quit your job?”
“No. It pays well.”
“Okay, well, I’m just going to follow you around and annoy you until you quit.” Wade starts walking forward, and Peter starts walking backwards intandem.
“What are you, five years old?” Peter scoffs.
“I’m much more annoying than a five year old.” Wade laughs before suddenly teleporting behind Peter, hugging his arms around him. Before Peter can escape, they are thrown into the vortex. Peter has never traveled with Wade through this thing before, and it is way more intense than he thought it’d be. Peter holds onto Wade's arms for dear life, screaming all the way through. When they reach their destination, Peter nearly loses his lunch. The feeling goes away quickly when Peter feels himself drop into ice cold water. Then they’re teleporting again, this time somewhere more familiar.
Peter stands in Wades apartment, shivering and soaked to the bone, while Wade is miraculously dry. Peter can see Wades shit eating smile from under the mask.
“Am I your most annoying captor now?” Wade rolls back and forth on his heels.
Peter glares into his very soul. He waits for a few seconds before he turns and books it for the door, but Wade grabs him by the hood and drags him back. They wrestle with each other for a minute, knocking over a bunch of shit in the process. Eventually, Wade gets Peter in a choke hold and holds him as still as Peter can be. When Wade tries to yank Peter's hand out of his pocket, Peter sticks his hand to the inside of it. Wade blinks, looking over Peter's shoulder as he tugs on his arm several times.
“...Did you accidentally superglue your hand into your pocket?” Wade asks, sounding confused.
“Yeah, sure.” Peter deadpans. “Let's go with that.”
And, as an afterthought, “I lost the game.”
Wade groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “Fuuuuuck!”
Peter looks down at Wade's wrist, spotting the teleporter. He’s seen him use it a few times before in the past, and knows how it generally works. Peter starts messing with it, eyebrows raised indignantly. When Wade finally notices, Peter presses down on the mechanism. This’ll buy him time.
“Have fun in Antarctica.” Peter turns and roundhouse kicks Wade away, watching with a smirk.
Wade gasps, genuinely surprised. “Oh, you little-”
Then, Wade is gone. Peter takes this moment to escape through the window, racing down the fire escape and out of the alley. He’ll talk to Wade later as Spiderman. Oh, and when he does, Wade will really regret it.
-
Peter walked into the alley behind the apartment complex he lived in, looking both ways before climbing up the fire escape. When he got to the end, he climbed up the remaining wall and hauled himself over the roof. He stared out into the city for a moment, letting out a big sigh. He had to go back to the office to grab his stuff, and when he got there, the first thing Jamison asked was if Peter got any photos. At least Brian was apologetic. Peter shakes his head and goes across the roof to his home. He’d text Wade and give him a piece of his mind, but his phone got soaked with water. Peter had to buy rice on his way home.
Peter unlocks the door and walks in, scraping his shoes off on the welcome mat. He kicks off his shoes and shuts the door behind him. Usually he leaves the door open to let in fresh air since the only window in here is unbudgeable, but it’s freezing. It doesn’t help that he’s been walking around New York soaking wet. That one really puzzled the office. Peter sets his backpack down on the coffee table in front of a futon that was once Aunt May’s. A lot of the furniture in here is a mix of aunt May and his.
Peter strips out of his wet clothes, tossing them into a dirty laundry basket. He stuffs his suit deep under his bed and grabs a change of clothes. He slips on a dry shirt, the sweatpants Wade let him borrow, and a pair of thick, wooly socks.
He walks around the one room “apartment”, flicking on a few lamps that are plugged into an extension cable. The cable goes down and connects with an outlet on the side of the building that’s too high up for anyone to really see, so he doesn’t have to worry about it being unplugged. He walks to his mini fridge and grabs a beer out of it, cracking it open. Then, as an afterthought, he grabs another. Peter then grabs a bowl from the cabinet in the corner, taking it with him. He takes a few sips of his beer and plops down on the couch, getting comfortable. Peter will study sometime else. Today was a total nightmare. He digs his laptop out of his backpack and sets it on the table, opening a movie app.
He then fishes the bag of rice out, pouring it into the bowl. After that, Peter buries his phone into it and hopes for the best. He places both beers beside it, looking towards the edge of the futon.
Peter leans over and grabs a blanket draped over it, sliding it over his lap. It gets cold in the winter, and over the years, Peter has had to make some adjustments. He got multiple different rugs to lay over the concrete floor, he’s bought extra blankets for his twin bed, bought two heaters, and makes sure to wear a few layers when it’s really cold. Peter doesn’t do well in the cold. After learning that the hard way, he made it a priority.
Here in a few hours he’ll have to meet Wade up for patrol. Hopefully Peter didn’t fuck up his teleporter too much so Peter can chew him out on time. He still can’t believe what Wade pulled today.
Peter's stomach growls, and he sighs. He should order food. Peter pulls up a delivery app on his laptop and types in the address of the apartment complex, already resigning himself to stand out in the cold and wait for it to get there.
“Oh, mexican? Good choice.” A familiar voice speaks right over Peter's shoulder. Peter jolts, whirling around to come face-to-face with Deadpool
“What–How–” Peter tries to find words, but Wade interrupts by pressing a gloved finger to Peter's lips.
“Sh-sh-sh, I have my ways.”
“How did you get here???” Peter spoke around his fingers, stunned.
Oh god, he cannot be here.
“Oh, you’re so cute. Did you really think you actually ditched me?” Wade boops his nose before deciding that he wants to bother Peter more. He grabs Peter's face between his hands, pinching his cheeks and pulling.“I’ll give it to you, you did lose me for a second when I followed you to the building. How the hell do you even get up here without a grappling hook?”
Peter grabs Wade's wrists and pulls them away, shooting him an affronted glare.
“Aww-ha-ha-ha.” Wade's coo turns into a pitying laugh. “Oh my god, that’s your sore loser face? That’s so precis…ous..” His voice trails off, eyes looking directly at Peters hand. Oh, fuck.
He feels like the rug has been pulled out from under him.
Peter freezes, eyes going wide. Then, he quickly stuffs that hand under his armpit. “Uh.” Peter says unintelligently. “You–uh–you win…” Peter laughs softly. “I’ll quit, okay? I’ll quit working at The Daily Bugle, I swear. We can go down there right now, and I’ll quit on the spot…”
Wade looks around the apartment as though he’s looking at it for the first time before looking back down at Peter, eyebrows raised high and eyes wide. Peter wishes the floor would just fucking swallow him whole. Wade reaches a hand out, pointing at the sweatpants Peter is wearing.
“Those are mine, aren't they?” Wade speaks slowly.
“No, they aren’t.” Peter uses his free hand to cover his legs completely with the blanket.
“Oh, yes it is.” Wade stands up straight, looking more and more shocked. “That’s the one I let him borrow. And, coincidentally, I also painted the nails on his left hand bright pink.”
“I’m not Spiderman.”
“I never said anything about Spiderman.” Wade's jaw drops, his suspicions fully confirmed in that moment.
…Fuck.
They both stare, sizing each other up in tense silence. Peter hates this. He doesn’t know if Wade is judging or pitying him. Maybe both. Wade is just sitting there, staring while Peter’s whole world is crumbling. His face is probably doing that, too.
Peter breaks first. He lets out a low whine, laying back on the futon before pulling the blanket up over his head and curling into a ball of misery. Peter isn’t really that upset that Wade found out who he was, but he was embarrassed that Wade saw how Peter was living; working for a company that hates him, and squatting in a place without plumbing. Great. That really does wonders for Peter's self-esteem.
“This is mortifying.” Peter bemoans.
“What’s mortifying is how you’re living and making a living.” Wade says, confirming Peter's greatest fears. Exactly! He wants to scream. He feels Wade sit down next to him, finding Peter's feet and dragging them out until Peter's knees lay over his lap. Wade gently rubs his hand over Peter's leg, and it works stupidly well to comfort him.
“I was going to tell you who I was after I graduated and got an apartment.” Peter says from under the blanket. “And got a better job. I swear this wasn’t a permanent thing.”
Ugh, this is so humiliating. This has been Peter's worst nightmare for the last few years.
“I believe you.” Wade says softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were struggling, Spidey… You know my place is always open to you, right?”
“I know.” Peter mumbles. He sits and stares up at the fabric numbly. Then, the blanket is gently pulled from his face. Wade stares at him from above, now without the mask, looking worried. Peter crosses his arms and turns his face away, looking at the table instead.
“...I just didn’t want you seeing me like this.” Peter bites the inside of his cheek when he feels his throat get itchy.
Wade leans over and grabs Peter, hauling him up onto his lap. Peter sits facing him, hands on his shoulders. Before Peter can ask, Wade hugs him to his chest. He squeezes him there, and Peter melts into it. He sheds a few tears, wiping them away before Wade could notice. They both sit in silence like this, enjoying each other's embrace. Then, slowly, Peter remembers the day leading up to this heartfelt moment.
“...I’m still pissed at you.” Peter speaks against Wade's neck, making the other man stiffen up. “Jameson is going to be on my ass for weeks for attracting your attention somehow.”
“You can quit, I’ll support you. You’ll never have to look at his face again.” Wade offers nervously, a smile in his voice. “Hell, I’ll buy the whole business and close it!”
Peter starts to lean back, ignoring Wade. “And I still feel dizzy from your stupid teleporter.”
“I’ll get rid of it forever.” Wade offers quickly. “Do you want a backrub? Tylenol? I can go get you some Tylenol, or weed, or-”
“I had to walk all the way to work, and back home in soaking wet clothes. And my phone is waterlogged.” Peter leans back fully, hands gripping Wade's shoulders. Peter’s eyes are on fire. Wade smiles back nervously, panic evident in his voice.
“I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe and the newest phone, baby boy-”
“Don’t you “baby boy” me after all of that.” Peter growls. “Not after you called me a dweeb, stupid, and a brat in the same hour.”
Wade’s eyes go blank for a moment, before he suddenly remembers what Peter’s referring to. Wade cringes, looking like he also wants to get swallowed by the ground. He plants his hands gently on Peter's hips, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs. Peter crosses his arms over his chest, giving Wade the stink-eye.
“I’m so sorry.” Wade hisses out, shrinking into his own skin. “I’m really, really stupid.”
Peter stares him down for a few good seconds before he sighs through his nose and shuts his eyes. Then, he lets himself relax. He knows Wade was just trying to do something nice for him in his own weird way. Even though he specifically told him to leave The Daily Bugle alone. “Okay. I forgive you. I’m still upset, but I forgive you.”
“Is there anything I can do to make you not mad at me?” Deadpool speaks softly, sounding like a kicked puppy. When Peter opens his eyes, he notes that Wade looks like a kicked puppy, too. It dampens the fire in him just a little.
Peter considers him for a moment. “...Yeah, there is something.”
Wade perks up, eager to make amends and get out of the doghouse. “What is it?”
“Fuck me hard enough to forget why I’m pissed at you.”
Wade bluescreens, staring up at Peter like he just grew another head. “Come again?”
Peter uncrosses his arms. “Do you want to? I do.” He walks his hand up Wade's arm, sliding his hand over his shoulder and to his back. “I’m angry, and I want to fuck about it.”
“Y-you sure?” Wade says, already hard against Peter. Peter smiles cruelly as he grinds down on it, making Wade shiver. He likes that Wade is holding back, waiting for Peter’s permission.
“Yeah. Now hurry up.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Wade replies in response before standing up, hands gripping the undersides of Peter's thighs to carry him. Peter wraps his legs around Wade's waist in return. Once Peter is steady, he grabs Wade's face with both hands and leans in. Peter licks over Wades parted lips, gently biting the top one before letting go. Wade makes a sound similar to what he sounds like when he gets shot or stabbed. When Wade's mouth parts, Peter sticks his hand to the back of Wade's head and kisses him, licking into his mouth and across his tongue.
Peter's back hits the bed after a few seconds of this. Wade grabs both of Peter's hands and pins them to the sides of his head, taking over. The sounds they’re making are obscene. When Wade grinds down in between Peter's legs, Peter gasps into the kiss. Slowly, Wade begins to work his way down. He leaves a hickey on Peter's neck, scraping his teeth downwards until he licks open-mouthed kisses across his collar bone.
Wade releases one of Peter's hands to push up his shirt. He leans down and licks across Peter's nipple, making Peter moan. Peter grinds up against Wade, letting out a shaky breath.
“Oh, I’m going to fuck you so hard.” Wade moans against Peter's chest, licking once more over his nipple before letting go of Peter's other hand to slide downwards.
“You-” Peter’s breath shakes. “-fucking better!”
Peter sits up on his elbows when Wade drops in between his legs on the floor. He grabs Peter's hips and yanks him closer to the bed, tearing Peter's sweatpants off and throwing them behind his shoulder. Wade palms his hand up the length stretching Peter's boxers, squeezing it at the base. Peter gasps and bucks his hips up.
“Fuck.” Peter moans, body shivering when Wade leans down and runs his mouth along his clothed dick.
Slowly, Wade pulls down his briefs until Peter's dick bobs out. Deadpool just groans at the sight of it before licking up the entire length, leaving a wet saliva trail down it. Peter grips the sheets, mouth permanently open. When Wade takes Peter into his mouth, and immediately takes him into his throat, Peter knows he’s done for. He doesn’t even try to hold off.
Peter lays back on the bed and shuts his eyes, hands gripping the sheets hard. When Wade swallows around him, Peter's back comes up off of the bed for a moment. Deadpool's hand lands on Peter's stomach, pressing him back down onto the bed. If Peter were a normal person, he’d probably be unable to get out of it. Wade bobs his head up and down sloppily, bringing Peter closer and closer.
Wade pulls off, licking and sucking at Peter's head as his hand jerks him off steadily. He holds Peter's hips down with one arm slung across his waist.
“I-I’m-” Peter whispers shakily, it going unheard over the unholy sounds Wade is making below. Peter gasps and goes quiet, body trembling as he comes hard into Wade's mouth. Wade milks him for all he’s worth, bobbing his head up and down the oversensitive length. Even when Peter pushes at his shoulder, Wade keeps going, head persistently staying right between Peter’s legs. Peter feels like his whole body is on fire as he reaches orgasm. The second time he cums, his vision whites out. Peter barely has enough time to recover before Wade speaks.
“Fuuuck, you’re so hot, baby boy.” Wade groans. “Can I finger you?”
Peter nods dazily, limbs feeling like jello. Wade gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, positioning Peter to rest over his lap. Peter hears a cap pop, and looks over his shoulder in time to see Wade look at him. He’s practically devouring Peter with his eyes. Wade's hand grabs Peter's leg, spreading it away from the other until he has proper access. He inhales sharply when he feels and sees Wade pour lube straight onto his hole, a gloved finger rubbing circles at the entrance. Wade slicks up his fingers properly, licking his lips. Peter lets out a slow whine as Wade pushes one inside until he’s at the knuckle.
Peter drops his face into the blanket, gasping into it when Wade starts to fuck him with that finger. It’s thick, especially with the padded gloves on. Wade sloppily fucks his hole, pressing the pad of his glove straight into Peter's prostate on the third or fourth thrust. Peter’s back arches, and he lets out a moan he swears wasn’t from his own mouth.
Wades hand comes down onto Peter's neck, pressing him back down and holding him there by it.
“Oh, fuck, I am never going to forget that noise.” Wade sighs dreamily. “You like that baby boy? Does it feel good?” Wade thrusts his finger into that spot again and again.
Peter answers a weak reply, too busy getting his brains scrambled to really express his words.
“What was that?” Wade slides another finger in, hitting that spot easily now.
“Yes!” Peter sobs into the mattress.
“Shit.” Wade moans, slamming his fingers in and out of Peter with a slick slap. He removes his fingers for a moment to drool more lube over him, getting right back to it afterward. By the time he’s fucking Peter with three fingers, Peter is already on the verge of cumming again. Peter has never been with another man before, just women. So, this is an entirely new frontier for Peter. An incredibly intense one.
Finally, Wade takes mercy on him. He removes his fingers and rolls Peter over onto his back, scooting right in between Peter's legs. Wade’s looking down at Peter like he’s a full course meal, and he’s been starving for weeks. Wade grabs his thighs and pulls him forward towards the edge of the bed. Then, he gathers his hands under Peter's knees and pushes them back until they hit the bed on the other side of Peter's torso. Wade groans, probably appreciating Peter's flexibility.
“God you’re so fucking hot, Spid–Peter.” The name rolls out of Wade's mouth with desire.
Peter bites his lip, tearing his eyes from Wade's face to look down at his dick instead. It’s big. Concerningly so.
“I’m going to go slow, okay? If you want to tap out, just say so.” He gives Peter a quick kiss on his kiss-swollen lips before sitting straight up again. He lines himself up at Peter's entrance, his head brushing the hole. Then, he pushes in slowly until his entrance gives way. Wade's full head pops into Peter, and Peter gasps at the burning sensation. He opens his legs more, looking up at Wade with pure, heated desire. Wade grips Peter by the hips and slowly slides his cock in, groaning when he presses his hips flush to Peters. Once Peter feels like he can breathe again, he sits up on his elbows, looking down at where Wade has disappeared into him.
“God, that’s so hot.” Peter slurs. He pushes his hips into Wades, biting his lip. “That’s so fucking hot.”
“New York is fine for one night without us, yeah?” Wade mumbles to himself, mostly. “God, I want to take a million photos of this.”
“This isn’t a reward for you-” Peter glares, but cuts himself off with a short gasp. Wade slowly slides out halfway, then back in fully. He continues this several times slowly, making sure Peter gets used to it before pulling out to the very tip.
“Right, right. I’m supposed to fuck your brains out. I almost forgot.” Wade pins Peter's knees down more securely, and slams his hips forward. It punches a grunt out of Peter, head thrown back onto the mattress. He gasps when Wade does it again, and again, and again. Wade starts fucking Peter in earnest, sounds of skin slapping against skin making his own dick begin to stir with interest again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Peter moans, throwing an arm over his eyes. His other hand claws into the sheets. If Wade weren’t pinning him down, he’d be halfway across the bed already from how hard Wade was pistoning his hips into him. Just as Peter feels like he’s getting used to this position, Wade pulls out and flips Peter around by his hips.
Wade makes him lift his hips, one hand gripping into the meat of it; Wade's tactical gloves having enough traction to make sure it doesn’t slip. His other hand reaches down and grabs a handful of Peter's hair by the base, keeping Peter’s head down so he’s arched up for Wade. Peter sobs into the sheets when Wade slides back in, his cock rubbing against his prostate the whole way down. Peter gasps and rocks his hips back into Wade’s.
“Yeah?” Wade grunts, slamming his hips back into Peter. “You like that, baby boy?”
“Yes!” Peter whines, little “ah’s” being punched out of him every time Wade thrusts in.
“You’re such a good boy.” Wade groans, watching his dick appear and disappear into Peter's ass.
“You aren’t one–” Peter cuts himself off, gasping into the sheets when he cums for a third time. Peter can feel tears running down his cheeks from the overstimulation. His quick recovery time is really fucking him over right now. Even though he gets hard again, he’s still just as sensitive as before. Peter hiccups, legs trembling when his dick fills out again. “Oh, shit!”
Wade squeezes and palms at Peter's ass, sighing. “I think I can truly die happy.”
Peter thinks he’s going to die, period. Wade hasn’t even cum yet, and Peter is fighting for his life down here. Wade releases Peter's hair to grip Peter's hips, taking a moment to resettle before pulling Peter back onto his dick. He doesn’t start slow, immediately using Peter like a toy. He fucks Peter back onto his dick, hips slamming into him every time he comes back.
Peter thinks back to what Wade told him a day or two ago, about how Wade was going to fuck him so hard he’d regret starting this game. Wade certainly wasn’t bluffing. This is the most intense sex he’s ever had. And, god, does it feel amazing. He’s never cried during sex, that’s for sure. For whatever reason, though, Wade pauses. He slows to a stop and Peter takes the chance to catch his breath.
Peter sinks his body further into the mattress, chest heaving. His body feels a bit sore already.
“Wait, Peter, have you been with other men before?” Wade questions, sounding suspicious. His hands rub up and down Peter's sides, thumbs gliding across his back. Peter sighs appreciatively.
“N… No.” Peter breathes out, cracking an eye open to meet Wades.
Wade's jaw drops. He starts rubbing circles into Peter's back and hips soothingly. “Why didn’t you start with that, Pete? I’ve been fucking you thinking that this wasn’t your first time taking it up the ass!”
“If you stop now…” Peter takes in a breath, worn out. “-i’ll fucking kill you.”
“You sound and look like you’re about to pass out.” Wade deadpans.
“S-So?” Peter pushes his hips back onto Wades, smiling lecherously when Wade's breath hitches. Wade smacks his ass in return, earning a sore groan from Peter.
“God, you’re insatiable. You’re not going to eat me after we’re done, right?” Wade pinches Peter's side.
“That’s female spiders, and I still fuck like a human, you massive dork.” Peter wipes the sweat from his forehead.
“Well, we don’t know that just yet. How do males-”
“If you don’t get back to it, I’m going to hide your katanas.” Peter snips.
Wade rolls his eyes. “God, who would've guessed your bossiness would follow you to bed?” Wade sounds like he’s smiling. He thrusts his dick back into Peter, making him groan at the mix of overstimulation and soreness.
“Ugh, you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” Wade squeezes Peter’s ass, holding it steady for him to use. “I think you know how bad you affect me, too. We both know what you were doing in the bathtub, and it was adorable, honestly.” Wade leans over Peter’s back, propping a hand next to Peter’s head. His other hand slides down Peter’s slick chest, brushing over his nipple and traveling further down his stomach. Peter’s abs twitch.
When Peter realizes that Wade’s hand is sliding down to his dick, Peter tries to push his hips away, but with Wade fucking into him so hard, he can hardly do anything other than take it. “Oh. god.” Peter slurs.
“Everything about you is hot and cute and sexy. Your hair,” Wade buries his face in it. “-your fucking eyes. Christ, they’re so beautiful. Don’t get me started on your tight, sexy little body and your heavenly ass.” Wade emphasizes the last part with a particularly impactful thrust that makes Peter’s knees go weak. Wade peppers open-mouthed kisses to the back of Peters neck and shoulder.
“And this part of you is definitely a top ten favorite.” Wade wraps his hand around the base of Peter’s half-hard dick. Peter sobs, a pins and needles feeling running through him. He doesn’t think he can cum again, but his body is vibrating with intense pleasure from it.
“Fuuuck, look at you falling apart under me. Please tell me we can do this more? I’m going to ruin other men for you completely so that you keep coming back.” Wade sounds breathy, and his hips start to twitch and spasm. His hand goes faster, jerking of Peter in earnest. Wade changes positions before he cums, flipping Peter onto his back, and slides back in. Peter is forced to look up at him, vision a little hazy from tears. Wade's hand sends Peter over the edge finally, and he cums dry, twitching and crying around Wade's dick. Peter flatlines, laying on the bed pliantly, completely fucked out and gone.
“Oh, fuck-” Wade moans after seeing this, pushing his length as far as it can go in Peter before he cums into him, sighing appreciatively. Afterwards, Wade collapses on top of Peter, squishing him into the bed with all of his weight. Peter groans softly, enjoying the weight. They sit there like that for a few minutes, sharing body heat.
“...We should have done this at yours.” Peter mumbles after a moment.
“Why?” Wade speaks, sounding a little winded still.
“Shower.”
When Peter says this, Wade groans, just now remembering the lack of plumbing Peter has at his disposal. “You’re so moving in with me.”
Peter pauses, his words hitting something in Peter. A little smile graces his face, and he tucks his chin into Wade's neck. “...Okay.”
-
After Wade used the teleporter, and Peter managed not to throw up, they both quickly went to Wade’s bathroom and hopped in the bath together. Peter sighs and sinks down, the warm water soothing his aching muscles. Wade chuckles from the other side of the tub, watching Peter with amusement.
“Jesus.” Peter mumbles.
“Still mad at me?” Wade asks hesitantly, smiling. Peter snorts and shakes his head. He’s too tired to be angry. Wade leans over and pulls Peter forward, gently coaxing him forward until his legs slide over Wade’s hips. He lets Peter’s head rest on his shoulder while he tasks himself with washing Peter’s body with soap and a rag, massaging his muscles slowly. Peter hums, going limp and pliant against him.
“Sooo, who do you have a crush on?” Wade asks, pouring some soap into Peter's hair.
“What?” Peter mumbles against Wade’s skin.
“Question number four, I think. You said you had a crush on someone.” Wade’s fingers rake down Peter's scalp and neck, sending a tingly feeling through his body.
Peter snorts, finding him ridiculous. “Do I even have to say it…?”
Wade hums. “No, but I’d like to hear you say it.”
Peter groans, a grin spreading across his face. “You’re awful, and it’s you, obviously.”
Deadpool giggles, sounding like a lovesick school girl. “Thank god, I thought I was going to have to kill someone.”
Peter makes a non-committal noise, and loosely hugs his arms around Wade's middle. Wade kisses his forehead and squeezes him back a little before continuing his task. Peter smiles softly, glad that Wade kidnapped him today. He wasn’t Peter’s most annoying captor, but definitely his favorite. He really loves Wade Wilson. Wade couldn’t get rid of Peter now, even if he tried.