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Peter looked at the digital clock hanging above the laboratory door for what felt like the hundredth time in ten minutes. It was barely 2:30 pm, but all he could think about was taking off his white lab coat and leaving the tower to meet his boyfriend. Wade had told him to join him at the empanada stand on 53rd Avenue right after work. Nothing unusual for them, they had been meeting there at the exact same time and place every third Wednesday of the month for the past four years. But today wasn’t just any Wednesday. It was their fifth anniversary, and Peter wanted to make it special.
Last year, for their fourth anniversary, Wade had organised a romantic dinner at home. He had worn a bow tie over his Deadpool suit and had offered him a bouquet of bright red tulips – “Roses are out of season, Spidey, and the florist told me tulips are perfect for all the love and devotion I feel for you.”
Just thinking about Wade’s shy smile when Peter accepted the flowers and kissed him on the cheek made him blush and kick his feet under the table.
This year again, his boyfriend had insisted on planning the event. He felt a bit guilty about letting him take care of everything two years in a row, but he could see how much fun Wade was having. And honestly, he was way too weak to say no to him.
Since Peter wasn't involved in the logistics planning, he was able to focus all of his energy on the gift-giving part of the night. He was just as broke as last year, but now closer to his boss (in the most work-appropriate way), which meant he could get his hands on the perfect present for free. But still, Peter couldn’t help the nerves bubbling in his chest. What if his amazing gift wasn’t that amazing? Wade had always loved sentimental things: handmade presents, little gestures, memories wrapped in paper and tape. And what Peter had gotten him this year… Well, it probably wasn’t personal enough.
He should have bought that ring he saw two months ago. It was pretty and just the right size. Peter could tell just by looking at it. He knew every last detail of Wade’s fingers. Their size, their weight, each scar travelling across the back of his knuckles, which ones were the most sensitive, the rough texture of his skin; and that the ring he’d seen in the window of that jewelry store would fit him perfectly.
He could have proposed tonight. Five years into a relationship, surely that was a decent enough time to propose, right? What if Wade was expecting it? God, what if Wade had planned the perfect romantic date, thinking that Peter was also going to prepare something great to surprise him? He had absolutely nothing planned. Apart from a cool gift. A maybe cool gift.
He was so screwed.
“Why are you making that face?”
Peter almost leapt to the ceiling in surprise (literally). Instead, he flailed around like an idiot, his left arm bumping into the microscope and making it fall to the ground. The creaking noise made him wince and he stared dejectedly at the broken pieces rolling around on the floor.
“This was worth two months of your salary.” Mr Stark stated casually, taking a step to the side, away from the mess.
“You really don’t pay me enough.” Grumbled Peter, embarrassed to have been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear his boss enter the room and get close to him. Useless Spider-Sense.
Mr Stark smiled way too brightly for someone who did not redistribute his wealth enough.
“You’ll have to forward this to Pepper. I don’t like dealing with HR.” He marked a pause, glancing expectantly at Peter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Well? You didn’t answer my question, kiddo. Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you ate a moldy pineapple."
“I like pineapples.”
Mr Stark’s brows arched dubiously. “Really not my point.”
Peter hunched down to pick up the microscope and gather the lost pieces. Did he look that stressed out? He was excited about tonight but a bit apprehensive too. He wanted it to be as perfect as possible.
“Remember the favor I asked you?” Peter mumbled while tinkering with the broken lens.
Mr Stark hummed teasingly. “Which one?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “The gift for my boyfriend…”
“Oh, that one!” Mr Stark taunted, a mischievous glint in his eyes, clearly waiting for Peter to take the bait.
And he was about to give him a piece of his mind, but then decided to use his brain and thought twice about it. He remembered how Mr Stark had built a vibranium blender just for him because he had complained every day for months about how his own was shit. This could be considered as a favor... And he did miss more work days than he liked to admit. Mostly due to crazy animal-themed villains kidnapping him, but Mr Stark wasn’t aware of that. And yet, he still paid him.
Peter scowled but decided, for once, to be the bigger person and answer like a normal human being.
“Yes, that one.”
Mr Stark smiled cheekily and waited for more. Peter sighed so heavily the paper in front of him almost flew away from the table.
“Thank you, Oh Mighty Boss, for helping your broke and underpaid employee, who deserves so much more for all the groundbreaking scientific discoveries he makes in a week.” Maybe being the reasonable person wasn’t really his thing, after all.
“I’m glad we both agree I’m mighty.” Mr Stark chuckled, pulling a stool next to him to sit down on it. “So, what about your boyfriend’s gift?”
Peter pouted, not sure he wanted to talk about this and admit all the feelings surrounding it.
“Let me guess, you’re having an existential crisis because you’re questioning whether your gift is too superficial or has enough sentimental value. You want your boyfriend to feel seen and appreciated, but you're worried he’ll think you picked something flashy that will put you in the spotlight instead of something that says I know and care about you.”
Peter gawked, eyes wide and mouth gaping like a startled fish. Since when was Mr Stark this emotionally intelligent?
“Am I reading too much into this,” Peter asked slowly, “or does that sound suspiciously like a personal experience?”
“You’re reading too much into this.” Mr Stark answered flatly. “I definitely don’t go through this existential nightmare every year for Pepper’s birthday.” He waved his hand dismissively. “So, am I spot on?”
Peter hesitantly nodded, not sure if he wanted to talk about this with Tony Stark, his genius super-hero boss who would probably be more reluctant about this whole conversation if he knew he was giving relationship advice to Spider-Man for his date with Deadpool.
“You shouldn’t worry too much, Peter. You’re a nice kid. I don’t know this boyfriend of yours, but if he loves you as much as you love him, I’m sure you could give him a paper clip and he would be ecstatic.”
“You really think so?” Peter asked softly.
“Yes, Peter. You’re always smiling dumbly at your phone when he texts you and glowing brighter than the damn sun when you tell us about your weekends. Honestly, it’s almost sickening. If he’s the same lovestruck idiot, he will love your gift. I have absolutely no doubt about that.”
Peter groaned and felt his face heat up to the roots of his hair. “Why are you making this so embarrassing?”
“I’m not making anything embarrassing. You’re the embarrassing one, kiddo.” Mr Stark smirked.
Once again, Peter had nothing to say to defend himself. He had always been kind of embarrassing when he was in love. With Gwen, he had spent his entire high school years trailing after her like a lost puppy, hanging onto her every word. She was smart, beautiful, funny, ambitious, and in his eyes, she couldn’t possibly have a single flaw. He’d been obsessed, taking pictures of her for any occasion, special or not, and sneaking into her room (with consent, he wasn’t a creep) at the most random hours of the day and night. He still thought about her often. Wade understood that. Gwen wasn’t his ex because they broke up; she was his ex because he hadn’t been able to catch her hand when it mattered the most.
Peter had heard that every time you fell in love, it felt like a totally different experience. He couldn’t agree more. When he met Deadpool, it took him a while to warm up to him. He had a hard time figuring out if Wade was constantly making fun of him, or just completely unhinged and cracking jokes at every good opportunity. It took some time, but eventually, he realised that Deadpool wasn’t a bully, just a chaotic guy with a messed-up sense of humor and a surprisingly good heart. In a way, they weren’t so different. And when Peter fell for Wade, he fell hard. The kind of hard that reduced his world to Wade’s presence, but that also widened it to everything that mattered in Wade’s life. With Gwen, too, he had been utterly and hopelessly captivated until their final moments (and still for months after she was gone). Even when he had to accomplish his duty as Spider-Man and couldn’t be by her side – which happened more often than not – he kept thinking of every possible way to compensate for his absence and put a smile on her face. His very being was orbiting around her like she was his sun.
Wade, on the other hand, felt like dawn in the palm of his hand. Like every day was the beginning of something great. Like you were loved so tenderly, that you could gently hold this feeling in the crest of your chest to keep you warm for the rest of your life.
Their relationship was easy in the best ways possible. They could hang out together both as vigilantes and as civilians, and it helped Peter fill his need to spend time with Wade. Sometimes, he felt like his heartbeat lost its rhythm when they had to spend too many nights apart. Love had always made him a tad obsessive, but it had probably become worse since he lost Gwen. Peter wasn’t as balanced as he liked to believe, not when it came to the people he loved. He knew he was not the picture of the healthiest boyfriend, but he knew that Wade knew it too and wasn’t pulling away. On the contrary, Wade indulged Peter, and seemed almost amused by his behavior. He wasn’t sure if Wade was aware of the true depth of Peter's psycho boyfriend package, or if he just loved him that much, flaws and obsession included.
Either way, one thing’s for sure was that Peter was an embarrassing idiot in love. His first topic of conversation was always Wade when he wasn't talking about his thesis progress. And once he got going, he could be ridiculously sappy.
“Anyway, Pete, it’s not that I don’t love talking about your love life – I really don’t, by the way – but I didn’t come all the way down to the 17th floor to become a marital counsellor.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“With the face you were pulling, you didn’t have to ask. If I hadn’t intervened, someone could’ve sued me for failing to assist a person in danger.”
Peter looked away, mock offended.
“I’m here because FRIDAY thinks your emails are a bigger priority than those of the board of directors, so I had the pleasure of reading the first draft of your thesis this morning instead of attending their biweekly committee.”
Peter chose to ignore the fact that Mr Stark was most likely the one who had instructed FRIDAY to bump the board of directors’ emails down the priority list in favor of his own, and instead focused on the fact that he could get constructive feedback from the greatest genius of their century.
“What did you think of my initial interpretation of the results? I’ve only partially analyzed the new data from last week, so the observations aren’t complete yet, but I highlighted a few interesting points on page 45.”
“Yeah, I saw that. The limitations section needs a bit more work, but your first draft is already better than most people’s final versions. You’re going to make your thesis defense jury cry in their sleep.”
Peter felt his cheeks warm but smiled proudly at his boss. “Thank you, Mr Stark!”
His boss rolled his eyes at the use of his last name but didn’t say anything, having long given up trying to make Peter call him Tony.
“Keep up the good work, kid.”
“Aye aye, sir!” He raised his hand to his forehead in a military salute.
Mr Stark sighed and started to take his leave after giving Peter one last exasperated look. Before crossing the threshold, he turned his head to wink at Peter. “And good luck for tonight, Pete. If he doesn’t like your gift, I know a gigantic green gentleman who loves to smash mean boyfies.” The sliding doors closed behind him.
Surprisingly, that little chat with Mr Stark had done him some good. Deep down, he knew everything would be fine tonight, but Mr Stark’s overconfidence had somehow reassured him. Wade would love his present. Honestly, even if all he had was a ripped plastic bag, Wade would probably be thrilled. God, the bar was so low. He really needed to work on raising Wade’s expectations. Besides, even if it was their fifth anniversary, they were used to keeping things chill, grabbing empanadas and going back home to watch a romcom movie. He really needed to relax.
He should definitely not have relaxed about this. Their meeting place after work was apparently just a lure to bring him where they were now. The restaurant was so fancy Peter almost stopped breathing, afraid that oxygen would also be charged on their notes at the end of the night.
“I thought we were going to the empanada stand.” He whispered with a shaky voice.
“We’re not, baby boy.” Wade winked. “But because I’m the coolest boyfriend ever, I still asked for a special empanada night!” He put his hands on his hips and looked proudly at Peter. He was dressed in red pants and a dark blue hoodie. Spider-Man’s colors. Sweet.
Peter chuckled and felt the nervous knot in his stomach loosen significantly. He nudged his shoulder against Wade’s. “How did I get so lucky?”
Wade blushed and pulled on the cord of his jumper, making the hood tighten cutely around his head. Before he could answer, the maître d’ welcomed them and led them to their table next to the window, giving them a breathtaking view over the Hudson River. The skyscrapers were shining in the night and reflecting on the tranquil water. It was so peaceful and quiet and Peter loved it. He was used to the views of the New York skyline from the roofs he rested on during patrol, but this was different. He was warm and carefree and he could stare at Wade's pretty blue eyes without his mask covering them.
A waitress came to take their order and Peter was glad everyone in this restaurant was acting like decent human beings towards Wade. They probably already made the connection between the name on the reservation, the scars on his face, and Deadpool, but no one had bothered them about it so far. They seemed all surprisingly fine with tending to a known mercenary and his date for the evening.
“What do you think, Petey-pie? Are you impressed?” Wade asked nonchalantly, as if he didn’t care about the answer. He was looking down at his hands, where he was folding the expensive cotton napkin into a… swan? Or was it a rocket? Could be a swan-shaped rocket.
“I love it, Wade.” Peter grinned widely. “I couldn’t be happier right now.”
His boyfriend glanced up at him for a second. “Just wait, you’ll be even happier when you get my extra super cool fifth anniversary gift.”
“Don’t brag too much, love. I don’t think you’re ready for my extra super cool fifth anniversary gift either.”
Wade gasped and put down his rocket swan napkin between his fork and knife. “What is it?”
Peter arched his brow. “I won’t spoil your gift.”
Wade squinted his eyes at him. “If you don’t tell me what you got me, I’ll start screaming right now.”
“What?” Peter’s heart missed a beat. He knew what his boyfriend was capable of, and screaming in a restaurant full of posh people was absolutely not below him. “Wade, if you make a scene in this freaking 3-star Michelin restaurant, I swear I’m selling on eBay your customized Star Trek guns collection.” He hissed.
“You would never.” Wade protested, though he didn’t sound convinced.
“Don’t test me.” Peter answered with his most serious voice.
“And people think I’m the crazy morally grey character between us… If only they knew!” He whisper-yelled, looking heavenward then dropping his head dramatically on the table, squashing his rocket swan with his forehead. “And now I just crushed Bobby the flamethrower.” He added with an anguished voice.
Ah. So it was neither a swan nor a rocket.
Peter put his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand, looking down fondly at his boyfriend. He nudged Wade’s hood up slightly to graze the top of his head with his fingertips. Five years of dating and his heart was still beating fast every time he touched him.
Looking back to their first encounters, when they were supposed to be nothing more than patrol buddies, Peter could now admit that they were already bantering like an old married couple. It took almost a year for Peter to acknowledge that no, you were not supposed to gaze languidly at your bro’s lips, and another six months for him to awkwardly confess while they were stopping a bank robbery. The thieves became the unwilling witnesses of Spider-Man and Deadpool's first kiss, and were probably still traumatised to this day.
Wade shifted under his touch and raised his head to look Peter in the eyes.
“My Petey-pie, you’re looking at me like I hung every star in the sky. Isn’t it romantic?” He giggled like an idiot and sat back up properly on his chair. Peter’s hand fell from Wade’s head to rest on the table, where his boyfriend immediately grabbed it to entangle their fingers.
“Don’t let it go to your head. You know that my favorite thing about you is your modesty.”
“But how can I stay humble when I’m dating the most prettiest boy?” He puckered his lips, then flicked his hand between them with a flourish to send him an invisible kiss. Peter rolled his eyes but caught the flying kiss mid-air and pressed it to his lips.
The waitress chose that moment to arrive with the first course. “Messieurs, your starter: a sweet corn and aged cheese empanada, delicately placed on its bed of wild arugula, finished with a balsamic reduction and toasted corn flakes.”
Peter thanked her and stayed straight-faced until he was sure she was on the other side of the room. Once he deemed her far enough, he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. “Did she just make an empanada with salad sound like the fanciest dish ever?”
Wade smiled with all his teeth. “I wrote the menu myself. It sounds cool, right?”
Peter laughed louder. “You sent them this and they agreed to receive us tonight?”
“I can be very persuasive when I want to be, baby boy.” His sweet smile shifted to something sharper, and Peter was left wondering if his boyfriend had threatened this high-class restaurant into arranging a special empanada night, or if he had just spent a lot of money on this. Knowing him, the answer was probably both.
“Thank you, Wade. It’s perfect.” He beamed.
Then, just for a moment, Peter let one of his most selfish and unheroic thoughts take over: he would trade the world to make this night last forever.
After they ate their dessert – a delicious crispy caramelized banana empanada – and Wade started using a knife (probably not the dessert knife, judging by its size and the suspicious rusty blood stain near the handle) to stab the table between his parted fingers faster and faster, Peter decided it was high time they went home.
“Gifts ti—ime!” Wade ran to their room as soon as they crossed the door, clapped his hands, then crouched on all fours to reach under the bed.
“This is your gift stash?” Peter asked, incredulous.
“You never found it, right?” Wade stood back up with a square-shaped gift in his hands. Peter nodded. “So it is a great secret stash.” He said smugly.
Peter had already retrieved Wade’s gift from his work bag. He’d been bringing it with him to the lab every day for the past two weeks, knowing full well that Wade would have no qualms about tearing their apartment upside down to find it if he ever left it at home.
They sat cross-legged on their bed, their knees touching, leaving no space between them despite the fact that Wade had bought a bed big enough for them to sleep spread-eagled like two massive starfish if they wished.
“I go first!” Wade shouted. He tossed his gift unceremoniously onto Peter’s laps, then covered his face with both hands, shyly peeking through his fingers to watch his reaction.
Peter picked it up carefully, humming curiously at the weight. It was heavier than it looked. The gift was neatly wrapped, folded delicately at the corners, and the wrapping paper was scattered with hand-drawn little spiders wearing birthday hats. Peter felt ridiculously touched by the care and effort Wade had put just in the wrapping. He peeled back the tape delicately, not wanting to tear the paper.
Inside was a vibrant red photo album. A frame in the middle of the front cover showing a selfie of the two of them in matching sweatshirts. It was a picture they took early in their relationship, after a bowling date where Peter had somehow only thrown strikes. Wade had declared it so unfair that he left the alley carrying Peter over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before he did something unwise like shooting the pins in frustration.
“Wade…” His voice caught embarrassingly at the end of his name. He cleared his throat and looked at his boyfriend’s face, still hidden behind his hands.
“Open it,” Wade whispered excitedly.
He turned the first page, and his throat tightened some more. He flicked through the rest, and his fingers clutched the album like it would disappear the moment he let go. It was full of pictures, but not only that: restaurant bills from numerous dates, movie tickets, newspaper clippings of Deadpool and Spider-Man spotted together during patrol, bits of torn costume fabric, bloody and dirty, with a caption detailing which fight they came from. Peter even glimpsed a speeding ticket from the night Wade had rented a car – an exact replica of the Batmobile – and driven them all the way to Niagara Falls and back to New York in just two days.
Peter was speechless.
“Do you like it?”
“Do I– Wade, are you serious right now?” Tears were welling up behind his eyes. “I love it. This is the best gift ever.” His lips trembled.
Wade’s hands finally fell away from his face, revealing his scarred skin and deep blue eyes. He uncrossed his legs to kneel and leaned towards Peter.
“The best gift for the best boyfriend. That’s the rule.”
Their faces were only a few inches apart, breaths falling on each other's lips. Wade cupped Peter’s face in his hands, bumpy with all the scars littering them, but so soft and gentle. Peter closed his eyes and rested his head on them. He felt lips grazing his left cheek, and his chest was suddenly far too small for his heart, swelling and swelling with all the love it held for Wade.
When he opened his eyes a minute later, Wade was sitting cross-legged again, looking at him tenderly.
“I’m waiting for my gift now, cupcake.”
Peter huffed at the silly pet name. He set the red album next to him and reached for his gift instead. He fiddled with it for a few seconds, the nervousness from earlier that day returning full force. Before chickening out, he gave it to Wade, dropping it lamely onto his boyfriend’s lap.
Wade didn’t pay the wrapping paper any attention – not that Peter had thought about personalizing it like Wade had done for him. It was a simple green with an orange bow curled on the side.
As soon as Wade got a good look at what it was, he gasped dramatically, then laughed like a madman.
“Is this what I think it is?” he screeched. “Is this the real deal, Petey?”
Peter nodded shyly. He’d had to push past his embarrassment and gather every ounce of courage he had (which was a lot harder to do as Peter than as Spider-Man) to ask Tony Stark, his boss, if he happened to know Taylor Swift and could convince her to personally sign an album for his boyfriend. He even had to send Mr Stark the exact sentence he wanted her to write on the cover.
“For Wade, my favorite anti-hero, yours, T.S.” read Wade aloud, eyes wide.
“I know how much you like her,” Peter mumbled. “You’re always listening to her, especially the Midnights album. You know every word of every song on every album. And now that I’m rubbing shoulders with a ridiculously connected billionaire, I figured… I should use the privilege for something that really matters.” He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Wade’s gaze. “I know it’s not as cool as a hand-made photo album full of memories. It’s just a signature on a 15-dollar album.”
Peter risked a glance at his boyfriend, expecting a chuckle, maybe a teasing jab. What he got instead was silence. Wade was holding the album with both hands like it was the Holy Grail. He turned it on one side, then the other, observing it under the slanting light of the bedside lamp.
“Peter,” he finally said, voice uncharacteristically soft. “You got Taylor effing Swift to write my name. My name.”
Peter hesitated. “Yeah?”
“I mean, that’s– it’s ridiculous. It’s insane. It’s also maybe the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
Peter blinked. “Really?”
Wade nodded, then reached out and gently bonked their foreheads together. “You remembered something I love. You used your intimidating billionaire boss to make it happen. That’s romance, baby.”
Peter laughed, a little breathless with relief.
“Now let’s put this album on and dance stupidly around the kitchen like we’ve lost all sense of shame.”
And just like that, Peter’s remaining doubts melted away.
Wade stood up, his album clutched against his chest with one hand, the other extended towards Peter. When he grabbed it, Wade pulled him out of bed easily, as if he weighed nothing. His casual show of strength would never stop being hot.
“Let’s do something cool and vintage.”
In their kitchen, Wade opened the Hello Kitty CD player nestled between the rice cooker and the toaster. He carefully placed his new CD inside and pressed the right arrow button several times. He stopped when he was satisfied, glancing one last time at the back of the CD to make sure he stopped on the right song, and pressed play. “Captain America would be proud of us if he could see us.” He chuckled. “This is so old people coded.”
The soft opening chords filled the apartment, and Wade turned toward Peter with an exaggerated bow. “May I have this dance, my brave little spider?”
Peter felt his smile extend. His cheeks would start hurting before the end of the night if he kept smiling so hard. “Of course, my fearless knight.”
Wade wrapped his arms around his waist with the same practised gentleness he’d used a hundred times before. Peter rested his hands on Wade’s shoulders, and they started swaying slowly to the rhythm of the song.
“My sweet honeybun, I think I’m definitely a bad person.”
Peter hummed questioningly, burying his head against Wade’s shoulder.
“I’m not sure I could let you go even if you wanted to.” Wade added playfully.
“So you don’t want me to be happy?” Peter’s lips twitched against the skin of his neck in amusement, not alarmed in the least by Wade’s words.
“Are you saying you would be happy without me?” His grip belied the lightness of his tone as it grew tighter around Peter’s waist.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I could never smile or laugh again without you.” Peter moved his head away from Wade’s neck just in time to see his lover’s eyes soften and his cheeks redden under his scars. He looked down at where their feet were touching and smiled embarrassedly.
“I know.” Wade chuckled. “I’m that amazing, right?”
“You really are.”
Their tiny kitchen smelled faintly of gunpowder and coffee, and Peter let himself be held, secure in the quiet belief that Wade would never let him go – and Wade, he was sure, wouldn’t resent him if Peter never gave him the chance to leave either.
It was impossible to focus on his work the following day. He was sighing like a lovestruck fool and replaying every second of the night before like it was his new favorite movie.
“Peter!”
And as usual, he had to stop himself from jumping to the ceiling in fright. It would be so nice if people stopped calling out to him every time he was lost in his head thinking about the love of his life. It’d help him not blow his secret identity by dangling from the ceiling like an idiot.
He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and swivelled on his stool to face the yelling yeller who had just yelled his name.
Mr Stark and Dr Banner were standing in front of him with odd looks on their faces. Dr Banner was trying hard to be discreet, but it was obvious he was checking him from head to toe, while Mr Stark was staring at him intently, caught somewhere between worry and annoyance.
Peter had no idea what this was about, but it didn’t bode well for him.
“Whatever I did, I swear I didn’t mean it.”
Mr Stark squinted his eyes and crossed his arms.
“Do not make any promise you can’t keep Peter.”
Oh, shit. That bad, hm? Was it his final moment at Stark Industries? Was he getting fired? He didn’t even miss that many days of work this month. And no hazardous explosion had happened under his supervision during the last two weeks. Seeing a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite place flicker across Mr Stark’s face, Peter’s stomach twisted.
Dr Banner must have sensed the panic gripping Peter’s heart because he decided it was his turn to speak, not acknowledging Mr Stark who had his mouth halfway open to likely let out another jarring comment.
“Peter, don’t listen to this overdramatic jerk.” Dr Banner rolled his eyes at Mr Stark’s offended gasp. “We just read something quite… thought-provoking in the newspaper this morning and we wanted to talk to you about it before jumping to the wrong conclusion.” He side-eyed Mr Stark pointedly at those last words.
Peter was starting to get really confused about this whole situation. “Sorry, I didn’t read the news this morning... What is it about?”
Dr Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, you see, the Daily Bugle published a rather interesting article.”
Peter felt the blood slowly drain from his face. Dr Banner and Mr Stark confronting him with a Daily Bugle’s article while sporting those worrying looks could only mean one thing. His secret identity was no longer a secret, and the fact that he had managed to come to the tower this morning without being arrested by a random person on the streets or by the cops was a miracle.
“Listen, I– I didn’t read the article, but whatever they are saying about me, let me explain, please.” He stuttered.
God, he was so fucked. Jameson loved to drag Spider-Man through the mud, but what would he say about Peter Parker? He had been their best photographer for years, then had suddenly quit without a second thought when Stark Industries offered to fully fund his PhD, pay him a monthly salary, and let him choose his thesis topic. But now, with his identity out in the open, would he even get to finish his thesis? To keep his job? Or any job in the future? Who would want to employ a spandex-wearing guy playing vigilante at night?
Mr Stark looked really pissed off with his arms crossed and his curt remarks. “Yes, we need an explanation and a quick one please. This situation is killing my poor heart faster than the arc reactor did.”
“K-killing?” What the hell did the Daily Bugle write about him to affect Mr Stark this much? “Mr Stark, I used to work for the Bugle and I can attest that they tend to twist the facts to their advantage. I don’t know what they wrote exactly, but it’s likely vastly exaggerated.”
Mr Stark raised a brow in disbelief. “Even if they’re exaggerating the details, I’m pretty sure the main fact is true. They’ve got some seriously damning pictures as evidence, Peter.”
Pictures? Oh my god, it just kept getting worse. He was so careful. How could they have gotten a picture of him without his mask? Did they catch him swinging back home? Did they find out his address? Was Wade in danger? He should text him. Or maybe he should call him; he needed to make sure he was alright.
Dr Banner placed a hand on his shoulder in what was meant to be comfort, but just felt like another weight sinking him down. “I’m sorry, Peter. I know it’s a breach of your privacy and we can help you sue them if you wish.”
“Hello?” Mr Stark raised his arms to the sky in despair and looked at them like they were idiots. “That’s not the issue right now! This Baily Dugle newspaper is already being sued six ways to Sunday. I put my best lawyers on the case.”
The belt cinching Peter’s heart loosened a notch. Maybe Mr Stark still liked him a bit if he was going to such lengths for him. Or maybe he’d just send him the bill for the lawyers’ fees once this mess was over.
“Mr Stark, I didn’t hide this from you because I don’t trust you. You know how much I admire your work as a scientist and as a hero. It’s just become a habit over the years. Everyone is safer this way.”
“Oh? I’m glad the word ‘safe’ is coming up right now.”
Dr Banner was looking between Peter and Mr Stark without saying anything, his hand having dropped from Peter’s shoulder and clutching his own lab coat nervously.
“Mr Stark, it’s been years, and I’m closer to thirty than to being a teenager, and—”
“Years?! It’s been years?!” Peter startled at Mr Stark’s raised voice.
“Yes?” He answered, confused, glancing at Dr Banner for help, but only getting an apologetic look in return.
“I don’t know why I’m acting all surprised right now when I was giving you advice for your fifth anniversary date just yesterday.” Mr Stark shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.
What?
“This feels like my very own kid tricked me into selling him to the bogeyman.”
What?
“I’m sorry Mr Stark, I’m not sure I follow…”
“What Tony means, Peter, is that he got upset because every time he was listening to your… romantic getaways…” Who even says romantic getaways in this day and age? “He was imagining someone else by your side instead of…” He hesitated.
Oh no.
“Instead of who?” Peter dared to press.
“Than a crazy mercenary with a body count higher than Mount Everest!” Mr Stark huffed, exasperated.
And Peter’s body suddenly forgot everything about his superpowers supposed to prevent him from making a fool of himself. He fell from his stool and landed on his butt on the floor.
“What?”
Dr Banner looked green around the edges, but not because of the Other Guy lurking beneath the surface. He just seemed genuinely disturbed by the whole situation. He leaned in, offering a hand to help Peter back onto his stool, but Peter got up by himself and chose to stay standing – making sure to stick himself to the ground in case his body betrayed him again. No way was he falling on his butt twice in front of his PhD supervisors.
“I’m still waiting for your explanation, by the way.” Mr Stark grumbled.
Peter’s pulse was going a mile a minute and he felt his hands sweating. He needed to get the situation back under control. If he’d understood correctly, the Daily Bugle hadn’t outed his side gig as Spider-Man, but his relationship with Wade. He had never tried to hide it. He wasn’t ashamed of Deadpool, and he knew he could handle himself if anyone ever tried to hurt him to get to Wade. He even called his boyfriend by his first name in front of Mr Stark and Dr Banner. Sure, he’d never told them Wade’s full name, but that wasn’t to conceal anything, it just had never come up in conversation. So what? Was he under any obligation to disclose the details of his private life to his employers? He could date whoever he wanted, thank you very much!
He clenched his fists, trying to stay grounded, and reminded himself that his entire life hadn’t been flipped upside down. His secret identity was still safe, at least.
“What do you want to know, exactly?”
“Oh, it sounded like you had a few ideas about what you needed to explain a second ago. Don’t get shy now.”
Peter frowned. Now that he wasn’t panicking so hard over Spider-Man, he didn’t get why they were overreacting like that. They knew Deadpool and even teamed up with him from time to time when the Avengers needed an extra pair of hands.
“Could I see the article first?”
Mr Stark flicked his wrist and FRIDAY projected it mid-air. Apparently, they managed to make it to the front page. It was titled ‘The infamous mercenary Deadpool spotted in a restaurant threatening an innocent New Yorker’. The picture was grainy, taken at a weird angle, but you could still make out Wade’s scarred face peeking from under his hood. As for Peter, he was caught in a fake expression of irritation, halfway reaching to catch the flying kiss Wade had blown across the table.
Peter sighed. Wade was going to feel so bad when he saw this. His unmasked face paired with a headline like that… It was everything he hated. And Peter knew how hard his boyfriend had tried last night. How he had not worn his mask in public only because he knew Peter loved to look at his bare face. How he had even behaved for most of the night (by Deadpool standards).
He really hoped Mr Stark’s lawyers were working hard and fast on shutting this article down.
“How does this look like he’s threatening me?” Peter asked, frowning at the holoscreen.
“That’s the thing you’re choosing to focus on?”
“Well, yes… I mean, he’s a really sweet guy. He would never threaten me to go on a date. He has some manners.”
“So now Deadpool has manners? I’ve officially heard everything.”
Peter rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“Well, maybe Wade doesn’t use his best manners with you because you’re rude.”
Mr Stark snorted.
“Rude? I’m not the one who didn't mention for months that I was dating a mercenary.”
Peter frowned, already feeling the slow burn of irritation crawl up his spine.
“I didn’t not mention it. I talked about him before. I even sent you his first name for the signed Taylor Swift album.”
Mr Stark mumbled something about how he couldn’t believe he’d actually asked the queen of pop to sign an album for Deadpool. Dr Banner, who hadn’t said a word for a while, smiled bemusedly and raised a questioning brow.
“I never hid anything, Mr Stark. You just assumed I was dating, I don’t know, some soft-spoken TA or a cute barista.”
“Well, excuse me for not thinking you were seeing Deadpool, of all people,” Tony exclaimed. “I mean, you must know what he’s like. He’s unpredictable, violent—”
Dr Banner, ever the mediator, finally stepped in. “Tony, I don’t think we should talk about Peter’s… Peter’s boyfriend like this. We didn’t come here for that.”
Peter was strung like a bow pulled too tight, ready to shoot a deadly arrow. He had to focus not to tear Mr Stark to shreds – by the force of his words or his hands, he wasn't sure which would hurt more.
How could he talk about Wade like that? Did he really think this was the way to change Peter’s mind? He may have a say in his work life, but he was clearly stepping out of line if he thought he had any say over his personal life.
He steeled himself, trying to rationalize the situation and not say something crazy that would make him lose his job by the next sentence.
“Wade didn’t ask for this kind of attention. He kept his hood on the entire time, and he was so careful. It was supposed to be a special night. He even—” He bit his tongue before saying he even made the whole menu empanada-themed for me. It wasn’t any of their business. “I don’t owe anyone an explanation. Especially not my boss.”
Mr Stark looked mildly offended by that.
“Peter, we know you’re a grown adult.” Dr Banned said placatingly. “We just wanted to make sure you’re safe and aware of exactly who you’re dating.”
“It’s been five years!” Peter snapped. “Of course I know who I’m dating. He’s a kind and loyal man, and he makes me happy. What made you think you could corner me over my love life and expect me to just nod along to every judgmental bullshit you’re spouting?” His voice was full of an anger he couldn’t contain anymore.
A beat of silence stretched in the room. Mr Stark looked vaguely uncomfortable while Dr Banner had lowered his eyes like a chastised child.
“I know who Wade is, what he’s done, and I’m very disappointed to see how two of the mighty Avengers are talking about him. He’s fought and bled beside you multiple times, and he never asked, not once, for recognition or thanks.” Peter added with resentment echoing through every word. “Honestly, I don’t care about your approval. I don’t even want it. But I do expect some respect.” He marked a pause and glanced at Dr Banner. “Since we’re all grown adults.”
Mr Stark cleared his throat awkwardly. “Peter, I don’t get it, and I will probably never do. It sounds like you love him—”
“I do.” Peter interrupted without hesitation.
“But please be careful. You’re a nice person and he’s not.”
Peter clenched his teeth. One more word, and he was about to prove to Tony Stark how nice he really was.
“However,” Mr Stark continued, “it hurts me to say it, but you’re right. Your love life is none of our business, and as long as you feel safe and happy, we can’t keep prying into your relationship.”
Dr Banner nodded. “I’m sorry if I came across as a patronising jerk. You deserve more trust.”
Peter hummed a noncommittal noise. “Well, seems like this conversation is over, then.”
Mr Stark sighed, flicked his wrist a second time to make the article disappear and grabbed Dr Banner's arms to lead them towards the exit. “Alright, kid. I’ll make sure this article comes down by tomorrow. I won’t bother you about this anymore. But please be careful. I will show the respect you’re asking of me, but I don’t trust Deadpool. I can’t change anything about that.”
Not like he had ever tried to give Wade a chance.
“Take care, Peter.” Dr Banner’s voice sounded contrite, like he wanted to say more but didn’t dare.
Good. They should both shut up. He had heard enough from them for the day.
The door closed and he was left alone in the lab.
He really needed to make sure Wade was okay.
After leaving work, Peter went straight back home. He was lying on their sofa, waiting for his boyfriend to come home. The TV was off and he was staring at the ceiling like it would spill all the answers he needed to get over this mess.
Wade would be back any minute now. He was only out checking some arms shipment details with Weasel for tomorrow.
They needed to talk about the article. Peter wasn’t worried about the pictures spreading too much, he trusted Mr Stark to take care of it easily. Even in this era where supposedly nothing could ever be erased from the internet once it was online, Peter knew that Mr Stark had a terrifying level of control over the web. If he wanted something to disappear, it would. Forever. The world was lucky he’d chosen to be on their side, and not a supervillain hell-bent on rewriting history. Peter wasn’t sure anyone would be able to stop him if he decided to try one day.
But even if the picture vanished from every corner of the internet, wiped from phones and computers worldwide, Peter wasn’t naïve enough to think that would be enough to erase it from people’s minds. That was something no one could control.
He wasn’t worried for himself. Peter Parker wouldn’t face any backlash in his line of work. He wouldn’t be the one getting taunted by his fellow mercenaries. Deadpool had a reputation for being unstable and slightly unhinged, but that image only added to his terrifying effectiveness as a ruthless killer. Peter had never had any intention of tarnishing that carefully balanced persona with a love scandal. And even if Wade’s line of work didn’t exactly align with his own moral code, they had moved past that disagreement a long time ago.
Peter perked up at the sound of hurried footsteps clanging against the fire escape outside, metal creaking under the weight of someone who was clearly not trying to be subtle.
Seconds later, the living room window flew open with a loud bang, the frame protesting loudly against the force. Wade tumbled inside, then stood still for half a second, just long enough for the silence to be filled with a rhythmic clink–clank–clunk as his weapons hit the floor one by one. The katanas dropped first, followed by a pair of pistols, five knives he had hidden in very unexpected places on his body, and finally what looked suspiciously like a disassembled grenade launcher.
Then, without a word, Wade threw himself onto the couch directly on top of Peter, limbs sprawling in all directions as he let out a deep, guttural groan. Peter didn’t even flinch. He just exhaled softly, one arm automatically curling around Wade’s back.
“Good morning, baby boy.”
“It’s 7 P.M.”
“Morning is a concept.”
Peter huffed.
“You smell like gazoline and… fried spring roll?”
“Don’t ask,” Wade mumbled, face pressed against Peter’s chest. “I just need...two minutes.”
Peter said nothing, letting Wade have his two minutes of rest. He silently tried to assess his boyfriend’s mood. He seemed tired but not tense. But then again, did that really mean anything? Wade was always relaxed when he laid in his arms.
“Wade…” Peter dared to whisper after five minutes of nothing but hugging and breathing.
His boyfriend grunted in response.
“You already know what I want to talk about, right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry about that awful article, Wade. Jameson had no right to publish that picture.”
He felt Wade’s arms and legs shift until he was sitting on his thigh. Peter sat up too, so he could face him properly. His hand went to Deadpool’s mask to lift it up completely. Wade let him, used to Peter’s hands on his bare face.
“I set his office chair on fire.”
Peter blinked. “You what?”
“Don’t worry, he wasn’t sitting on it,” Wade said casually. “And I called the fire department right after.”
Peter let out a slow breath and muttered, “I guess he kind of deserved it.”
He didn’t say out loud that if Wade had looked even a little more upset about the article, he would’ve gladly set the chair on fire with Jameson still in it, consequences be damned.
“Mr Stark and Dr Banner gave me a little talk about it,” Peter added. “They saw the article. They know I’m dating Deadpool now. They didn’t make the connection with Spider-Man, but... I felt like it was a close call. Mr Stark said he’d make the article disappear.”
Wade nodded slowly, but Peter could sense he was still off. And it wasn’t because of Jameson or the press.
“Okay,” Peter said softly, narrowing his eyes. “There’s something else. What is it?”
Wade hesitated, then averted his gaze. “I had visitors today.”
Peter’s brows furrowed. “Who?”
“My least favorite spider-themed hero, and a bird.”
He clenched his teeth. Black Widow and Hawkeye.
“They dropped by to... let’s say… suggest I disappear from your life. Said it was for your safety. Gave the usual speech. I'm a risk. A liability. Not good enough.” His voice wavered on the last words.
Peter felt his heart clench painfully in his chest. He’d only met Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton a handful of times as Peter Parker while he was working at the tower, and even then, they had barely exchanged more than a few polite words. What were they so intent on doing, confronting Wade about his personal life and playing moral guardians?
It was unfair. Peter could see how Wade tried to play it off as if it was no big deal, but his slightly slumped shoulders said enough of how it pained him deeper than he wished to let on. Wade looked up to the Avengers. Fortunately, Black Widow and Hawkeye weren’t his favorites (thank God Captain America had chosen to stay home today), but the team as a whole meant something to him. Their approval mattered. Maybe not as much as Spider-Man’s approval, but still.
Peter swallowed hard. He pulled Wade into his arms and squeezed him, keeping his super-strength in check to avoid hurting him in the grip of emotion.
“Wade.”
“I know, Petey.” He mumbled against his neck. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“They don’t get to decide who you are worthy of.”
Wade let out a deep sigh. The distant hum of the city drifted in through the still-open window of their apartment.
“I really did try to change since I met you. My moral code is still a bit looser than yours, I’m still Deadpool, but I know I’m a lot less unreliable than I used to be.” He lifted his head from Peter’s shoulder and kept going. “I'm always the one who gets lectured. I’m happy they’re leaving you alone, not accusing you of being a bad person or throwing other crap your way. You know I would never want you to be put in that position. But it hurts to always be seen as the worst person.”
Wade looked at him carefully, as if he was afraid Peter would take offense or misinterpret what he was trying to say.
“Of course it hurts, Wade. You don’t deserve this. It’s unfair.”
Wade didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes said he didn’t quite believe him.
”It is unfair, baby.” Peter insisted. “I’ve changed, too. I mean, I was never exactly like the Avengers to begin with. I’ve always been a vigilante. Heroes like them don’t deal with even a fraction of what we face on a good day.” He sighed wearily. “But getting to know and date you made me shift my perspective even more. If I’m honest, I’m not sure my rules are as clear as they used to be. And we both know what I would be capable of if I decided that crossing a few more lines was necessary.”
Wade gave him a small, comforting smile. “They think you’re a civilian, baby boy. They don’t know anything about the chaos you could cause. And even if they knew about your spider double life, they’d still point fingers at me first.”
“Right, I’m the goodie two-shoes, and you’re the unhinged toxic boyfriend.” Peter scoffed. “I just wish they’d look a little closer.”
“Do you think they would change their mind if they knew you better?” Wade asked, less downcast than earlier, and more curious about what Peter was implying.
Peter was an honest and self-aware man, and with all his honesty and self-awareness, he could easily answer that yes, the Avengers would probably change their mind if they were to dig past his wholesome exterior. He always did his best, every day of his life was dedicated to do the right thing. He used his power with kindness and compassion, and he had saved New York and its citizens countless times. But those acts of bravery required effort. Peter didn’t feel like he was intrinsically good. Uncle Ben had to bleed out slowly in his arms for him to realise that he should help others. And look how well that had worked out for him. He hadn’t been able to save Gwen from the murderous madness of his own best friend. That day, he had to mourn the loss of two of the most important people in his life.
Now, his most important person was a psychotic mercenary, and he would do anything to keep him by his side. That kind of devotion didn’t look very heroic from the outside.
Peter leaned slightly forward, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “Maybe it’s better this way.” He replied. “If they knew how truly insufferable I was, they would send me to the raft just for a moment of peace.”
Wade watched him silently for a moment. Then he tilted his head, something unreadable flickering in his gaze and a broad smile creeping on his face.
“Well,” he said, voice light but eyes sharp, “lucky me, I guess.”
Peter kissed the corner of his mouth, brief and warm. “Very lucky,” he whispered. “Do you feel better?”
Wade hummed happily. “You know what would make me even happier?”
Peter had an idea, but waited patiently for Wade to say it.
“Deadpool and Spider-Man teaming up to beat the crap out of some bad guys and then riding off into the sunset together.”
Okay, not exactly what he had in mind, but it sounded just as good.
He smiled and pushed Wade off him. “What are we waiting for? The sunset won’t wait for us.”
________
Peter groaned and heaved himself up. What was wrong with these new generation criminals and their alien technologies? He missed the time when the only dangerous weapons on the street were those good old-fashioned guns and knives.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Deadpool take a few steps forwards to position himself between the bad guy and himself, the Amazingly Still Alive Spider-Man. He looked at him from head to toes, clearly checking if Peter had sustained any serious injury from the blow. Peter looked at the state of his own torso too, and was pleasantly surprised to see only charred spandex, and not a huge hole where his heart should be. Good to know he was immune to whatever it was that came out of that gun.
“Oh, I'm so going to cook up a new recipe with this guy's guts.” Wade grunted. “Hannibal Lecter better watch out, I'm going to give him some competition."
Peter loved a protective boyfriend once in a while, but now was not the time for reckless behaviour.
“Please, Deadpool, don't make a scene.”
“Me?” He put a hand over his chest. “I never make a scene. Who do you take me for?”
Peter gave him a deadpan look under his mask.“I swear if you start severing toes like last time, I will–”
“Web me up?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “How could I forget how much you like that...”
“I like it better when we’re both in our birthday suits in my bed, but you know I’m a bit of an exhibitionist too. So if you want to gag me right n–”
Peter grumbled in frustration and grabbed Wade’s mask before he could finish his sentence. He lifted it, pressed his webshooter to Wade’s mouth, and pulled the mask back down into place.
“I did it. Are you satisfied?”
Wade put one hand over his mouth and the other over his crotch. Peter opened his mouth to tell him to get lost because it was not the time or place for this kind of behavior. But then, a sudden whirring noise zipped past his ear, followed by the unmistakable sound of something exploding behind him. He turned to see a parked car quickly disintegrating into flaming metal chunks.
“Was I supposed to dramatically blow up like this when he hit me with his beam earlier?” Peter wondered aloud. “Another day to be thankful for my radioactive spidery ass, I guess.”
In an unusually unsettling silence (not that he could utter a sound, with his mouth still sealed shut), Deadpool unsheathed his katanas and marched towards the culprit of this mess.
The guy was holding a round and metallic gun the size of a fourth-grade student, with a bright gold light shining from just above the trigger. His gun was more impressive than his looks: he was a basic white man, average height, average muscle, and average face. He didn’t have any distinctive sign that made him stand out. But he didn’t flinch away from Wade and his two katanas and that was suspicious.
“You don’t scare me, Deadpool.” The man almost growled. “I trained for this day.”
“He said he trained for this day, Deadpool.” Peter mocked. “Cool. I personally never had to train because I became skilled overnight, and meritocracy doesn't exist. Let’s see who’s better.” He needed to be twice as efficient in his comebacks since Wade had his mouth shut. He would not take this task lightly.
Before the man had time to press the trigger a third time, Deadpool raised his swords, crossing them tightly before him in a sharpened X, and lunged forward. He swung his arms outward in a clean, slicing arc, the blades slashing apart and cutting cleanly through the fabric of the man’s black shirt. Peter expected a bloody cross carved into his chest underneath, but was faced with perfectly healthy skin, almost shining into the night. Deadpool made a sound of confusion.
Suddenly, Peter's senses went into overdrive as he distantly saw the man's mouth going upward into a satisfied smirk. He had stayed back, trusting that Deadpool would end this confrontation swiftly, but his spider-sense screamed at him that he had just made a monumental mistake.
“Wade!” He shouted, panicked beyond measure. “Get down!”
Seeing the gun already raised and pointed directly at Wade's torso, who was still standing extremely close to the man after his failed attack, Peter realized that his boyfriend wouldn't be quick enough. Time seemed to slow down, and his instincts took over. In a split second, with a speed beyond human grasp, Peter leapt onto the wall to his right and threw a web directly at Deadpool's arm. Just as he saw the man pull the trigger, he yanked the web towards him and Wade flew several meters in his direction, crashing into the wall on which Spider-Man was perched. The beam of light from the alien weapon struck a car parked further away, which exploded dramatically like its counterpart a few minutes earlier.
Peter leapt down to help Deadpool get back on his feet. He heard a groan of pain and realized he had pulled hard enough to dislocate Wade's shoulder.
“Jesus, Wade, I’m so sorry.” He crouched and palpated his right arm and shoulder. “Are you alright? Please talk to me.”
He heard a huff of laughter and looked up from his ministrations to face Wade. “Oh, right.” Peter jumped on the ground and lifted Wade’s mask for the second time that night. He pressed a button on his webshooter to switch from his web formula to its dissolving agent and in a matter of seconds, his boyfriend was back to being the merc with a mouth.
“Thanks for allowing me free speech again, baby boy.” Wade hugged him briefly, moving his arms like he hadn’t had a dislocated shoulder a few seconds ago.
“What the fuck!” The man screamed behind them. Peter whirled his head around in shock. He had almost forgotten him. Almost. “Are you both gay?” The guy looked angrier by the second. He spat on the ground next to his feet. “You know what I hate more than heroes thinking they’re better than me?”
“Oh my god, he called me a hero!” Squealed Deadpool.
“I hate gay heroes who think they’re better than me!” He sneered uglily, advancing menacingly towards them.
Deadpool looked at Peter, and the large white eyes on his impossibly expressive mask were crinkled, showing that he was beaming underneath. “This is the best day of my life.”
Peter huffed a laugh. This was ridiculous.
“You think this is funny?” Gun-guy had stopped 20 feet away from them. He repositioned his gun towards them, and a loud throbbing sound made Peter's hackles raise in warning. He crawled back up on the wall and trusted Wade to be quick on his feet now that he had almost been blown to pieces once.
“So, you’re katana-proof?” Wondered Deadpool aloud. “Let’s try something else, then.” He drew two bulky 50-caliber handguns. “Say hi to my sweet Desert Eagles.” Deadpool took the security off and stepped forward. “One is named Bea.” He chuckled. “The other… You really don’t have to know.” Then he fired two shots.
From the top of his wall, Peter carefully observed the trajectory of the bullets and their effects on their opponent. One headed straight for his stomach and the other for his leg. Clever. A way to find out where his body was most vulnerable. His torso was undressed because of Wade's earlier katana attack, which would make it easy to assess the impacts. Yet, to his surprise, a clink resounded, like metal meeting metal, and the bullets bounced off his body.
“Try again!” The following laser beam was aimed at Deadpool, but as he threw himself to the side in a somersault, it hit the wall. To avoid being swept away in the collapse, Spider-Man swung to a nearby lamppost.
Sighing in relief, he tried to catch a glimpse of Wade through the dust of the crumbling bricks. He had rolled away on the right, he shouldn’t be far.
However, his heart sank when he got a look at Wade's situation. Peter was sure he had seen him jump in time, but in his haste to get away himself, it seemed he had missed a detail. A bloody detail.
Their assailant began to laugh. “Well, having trouble getting up?” He grinned evilly.
Deadpool was on the ground, a few feet to the right where Peter had seen him dodging the attack, but his left leg seemed to have been late to the plan. It was no longer attached to his body, and Deadpool was losing huge amounts of blood on the ground.
“Don’t look so smug, dumbass!” Wade yelled. “I can still kick your butt with one foot!”
Where was it? Where was Wade’s leg? Maybe it was still time to stick it back to the rest of his body. Peter looked around frantically, but he couldn’t find it. Wade’s leg was gone. Completely obliterated. There was no way it could be reattached, it would have to regrow entirely. He gritted his teeth, feeling anger rising within him. He was furious with this man, but also at himself for his inability to stop Wade from being hurt.
Peter dropped down from the lamppost and started to run toward his maimed boyfriend, but the man was fast. He revved up his gun again, aiming straight at Deadpool.
“Oh no you won’t!” Peter shouted. With inhuman speed, he sprinted forward, shooting out two webs, one for each hand holding the gun. He launched himself into the air, still tethered to the guy by both webs, and brought both feet down in a powerful kick to the chest. The laser deflected wildly, arcing in a giant, dangerous curve.
The lamppost where he was standing a few moments ago broke in two clean parts.
The man slid on the ground until he was stopped by a wall on the other side of the alley. While he was getting up, Peter took the opportunity to go check on Wade. He crouched in front of him and delicately grabbed the top of his thigh.
“I’m okay, Spidey boy.”
His leg had already started to grow back, and the bleeding had stopped. Peter breathed a sigh of relief. Wade wasn't going to die from his injury. He turned his head quickly to check on the man, but he was still getting up and checking his gun. Wade was probably still in a lot of pain, and Peter felt terrible for it.
“Please don’t move too much. I’m going to take care of this asshole.”
“I don’t doubt it, honey.” Wade booped his nose and giggled. “Avenge my lost leg!”
Peter made sure Wade was sitting down properly and had his guns within arm’s reach, then stood up to end this fight once and for all.
“That’s all you had in stock?” The man taunted him. “I already told you, I trained for this. You can’t beat me if you hit me like a pussy.”
Peter gritted his teeth. Guns and katanas were useless, and a hard hit to the chest only sent him away without leaving a scratch. Wade was lying down in pain with a missing leg. Spider-Man was going to grant him his wish since more brute force was obviously needed. He would not hold back his punches so much.
He shot a web to snag a fuming car hood that had crashed onto the alley’s ground earlier after an explosion. Twisting his arm, he hurled it violently at his opponent. However, the man didn’t even try to dodge it and let it slam against his body while laughing like a maniac. He stumbled back several steps without falling and fired immediately at Deadpool. It was only thanks to his spider-sense and superhuman reflexes that Peter managed to dive into the line of fire to block the laser beam. Just like before, the blast didn’t affect him, except for scorching his suit a little more.
“Why are you still aiming for him?!”
“Because it’s fun to see him struggling on the ground, and you trying desperately to protect him.”
Peter cried out in frustration and shot numerous webs while advancing towards the guy, attempting to catch the gun and hinder his movements. He managed to glue his feet to the ground, but by the time he jumped to tackle him down, it was already too late; he had fired again.
Wade whimpered.
“This doesn’t end until you’re both dead.” The man growled. He had fallen to the ground with his feet still hooked to the floor by Peter's webs. His head had hit the floor violently, and his knees were bent so as not to twist his ankles. Peter was holding him down with his whole body, and seized the momentum to snatch the gun from the man's hands and broke the trigger in one smooth motion. He tossed it further in the alley, out of reach for both of them.
“You’ve no idea how much I’ve been holding back.” Peter muttered coldly.
He turned his head slightly toward Wade, scared of what he would see.
Wade was curled up on the floor, holding his midsection with both arms. Blood had splattered everywhere. Behind him on the wall, around him on the floor, and even his red suit seemed to have taken on a darker hue, not doing its job of camouflaging blood stains very well anymore.
Peter felt anger pulsing through his veins.
“You’ve trained for this, you said?”
The man only smiled ominously. “You won’t be able to hurt me. You couldn’t until now, you’re too w—”
Peter punched him in the face. The guy coughed but still looked at him defiantly in the eyes.
“Try harder.”
“Gladly.”
So he punched harder, and harder, and harder, until teeth came loose, until bones cracked, and until the monster’s blood covered the ground, mirroring Wade’s own behind him.
The man's face was no longer recognizable. His eyes were swollen shut, his nose crooked, his jaw at an unnatural angle, and everything was red. Like Wade, bathing in blood only a breath away. Focus, Peter.
“You said you had trained for this!” He screamed. “You’re not so clever now, are you?”
The man only gurgled pitifully.
“Didn’t you want me to not hold back anymore?”
Peter grabbed the man’s collar with one hand and raised his fist to strike another blow.
Arms suddenly embraced him from behind, pulling him back from the body and hugging him tightly against a sturdy chest.
“Hey, baby boy. I think he’s had enough. You can stop now. I’m safe.”
Wade’s deep voice vibrated in his chest, pressed close against his back and bringing him right back to earth in his quivering self. In a heartbeat, his rage collapsed, leaving only silence.
It was so silent.
“I thought he was stronger than this.” Peter whispered brokenly. “Wade, I- I- I think he’s…”
“No, he’s not.”
“Please don’t lie to me!”
“He’s not dead, Spidey.”
Peter looked ahead disbelievingly. This guy was not breathing anymore. How could he? A part of his brain was sticking to the concrete. Peter's chest constricted, and he felt a heavy knot forming in his throat. His eyes were starting to burn from the tears he tried desperately to stop from falling, and his lips trembled uncontrollably. Deadpool detached himself from his back to face him. He looked at him carefully, and even if Peter was quiet in his misery and still well hidden under his mask, he knew that his boyfriend could tell with just one glance how much he was starting to freak out.
Which is why Peter was so taken aback when Wade withdrew his gun from his holster and pointed it at the corpse in front of them.
“What–”
“Look carefully, Spidey boy. Right now this guy is still breathing even with a few bits missing from his head.”
“Wade, what are y–”
A loud cracking noise echoed in the alley. Peter put his hands against his ears a second too late and staggered back.
“Now he’s not breathing anymore.”
Eyes wide open and mouth gaping, he looked incredulously at his boyfriend.
“You didn’t kill him, Spidey. I did.”
Deadpool sheathed his gun and took a step forward. He was slow and quiet in his moves as if Peter was about to flee like a scared animal. Was he? His feet and legs and whole body were shaking. His eyes and throat were still burning with unshed tears. Deadpool took another few steps, closing the space between them. He gently touched his chin and Peter looked up at him, leaving in the background the vision of a shattered skull and a ground slick with blood.
They didn’t need to take off their mask to understand every emotion passing between them. Peter was still shaking like a leaf when Deadpool hugged him and swayed them slowly until they had switched places, Peter’s back to the slaughter, and Deadpool facing it.
“Let’s go home, love.”
The way back to their apartment passed in a blur, Peter’s mind still tangled in the aftermath of their fight, barely noticing when they crossed the threshold of their home.
Wade grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. He peeled off both of their masks, then helped Peter get out of the rest of his suit, humming a song under his breath the whole time. It was soothing. They showered together, Wade washing his hair slowly, massaging his head until he felt all of the accumulated tension of the night leave his shoulders. Wade turned off the water, left a small kiss on his right shoulder, then went to pick up their pajamas.
“Look Petey-pie, it’s your favorite shirt!” He brandished it proudly in front of him.
Peter smiled. It was an oversized blue shirt with a science pun embroidered on the front. Wade had gifted it to him two years ago. It was made of bamboo viscose and cotton, making it the softest shirt Peter had ever owned. He wore it a lot, especially on days he felt oversensitive and overwhelmed.
“Thank you, baby.” Peter murmured and quickly put it on, along with the boxer shorts that Wade had brought back on the way.
Wade put a bright pink nightshirt on and smiled back at him. “Come here.” He opened his arms and looked at him with a fond look in his eyes. Peter's breath caught, held captive by the love swelling his lungs. He hugged Wade, resting his head on his shoulder, his nose buried in his neck. Wade put one arm around his shoulders to hold him close and placed his other hand on his head to run his fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. Contrary to Wade, Peter had never been well-versed in the art of pretending he was fine.
After a moment, Wade stepped back just long enough to walk them into the bedroom so they could lie down comfortably on the bed. He took him back into his arms, rested his chin on top of his head and hugged him so tightly that Peter felt squeezed of his worry. Wade gave the best hugs.
“I’m sorry about tonight, Peter.”
“You don’t have to apologize for anything.”
“I was useless the whole time. I kept getting distracted and messing up. I put you through too much.”
Peter sighed and eased back a little, just far enough for their eyes to lock as they spoke.
“Do you think I blame you for getting hurt by this psycho?”
“You should.”
“I would never.”
“You feel awful because you had to use too much strength to protect me.”
“I will never feel bad for giving my all for you, Wade.”
Wade’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I took this fight too lightly.”
“Yes.”
Wade flinched.
“You’re not useless or inept or not good enough. You could have ended this fight on your own if I had been the one injured; I don't doubt that. But you don't care about your health.”
“It’s not-”
“Let me finish, please.” Peter turned his palm and linked their fingers. “I don't feel bad about beating the crap out of that bastard.” He hesitated. “Even though I'm going to have to seriously reconsider how I deal with my emotions, given how I wasn't able to control myself.” He bit his lips guiltily. “But Wade, what makes me upset is that you were seriously injured, that you suffered so damn much,” Peter’s voice cracked. “when it could have been avoided in so many ways.”
Wade's face crunched contritely. “I don’t mind losing a leg, Peter. It grows back.”
“Well, I do mind, Wade!” He cried out, jumping at the sound of his own voice, too loud in the quiet room. “I do mind seeing you hurt.” He continued, voice tapering out.
“I’m sorry, Peter.”
“Why do you never understand how distressing this is for me, Wade?”
His boyfriend looked away and untangled their hands. He shifted slightly, pulling back more. The space between their bodies was only a few inches, but Peter could see how Wade's mind was drifting to painful places, moving further and further away from him.
“Stay with me.” Peter reached out his hand to brush Wade's scarred cheek.
“Where else would I go?” He covered Peter’s hand on his cheek with his own and finally refocused his eyes on him. “Sometimes, I feel like if there is less of me, it’s easier for you to bear.”
Peter’s heart broke with such force he feared Wade had heard the sound of it.
“It is so unfair that no matter how much I am torn to pieces, you will never be freed of me. I feel like I’m cursing you every time I come back to you.” His voice broke into a pitiful sob.
His hand, still on Wade's cheek, trembled at these words. Peter sat up abruptly, feeling a sudden panic wash over him, as if Wade were about to slip away from him at any moment, even though he was curled up on their bed. He grabbed his boyfriend's shoulders and pushed him onto his back. Wade's lips parted in a sharp inhale, his sobs stopping for a split second in surprise. Peter straddled his upper thighs and placed both hands on his cheeks. He brought his face close to Wade's, staring at him. Their noses touched.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Wade Wilson.” He stated fiercely. “I wish I could speak to no one but you so that my heart would carry the echoes of your words for the rest of my life. Every day, I strive to forget the faces of others so only the memory of your eyes remains in my dreams.”
Wade gasped. His eyes were wide open and Peter finally saw something lighter than anguish in them.
“You’re not measuring correctly the amount of love I feel for you.”
“I have to change the scale.” Wade half-chuckled, half-sobbed.
“Yes you do.” Peter kissed his forehead and hugged him with the same intensity Wade had given him earlier.
“I love you too, my Petey-pie.” Wade mumbled on his shoulder.
“I know.”
“I will make sure to have a 19th-century love tirade ready for next time, I swear. I can’t believe you said that to me. You sounded like a Jane Austen character.”
Peter pinched him under the ribs and Wade squeaked. “Shut up.”
Wade laughed like a child, and he couldn’t help but snicker dumbly too. They remained lying close to each other on the bed, relieved of their emotions for the night. Sleep overtook them, and Peter dreamt of Wade's warm eyes until dawn.
________
A week passed peacefully after this, their hearts closer than ever. No one pestered Peter about the Daily Bugle’s article at work. Mr Stark asked him once if anyone had bothered him about it, but he didn't press the matter and remained professional for the rest of the time. Peter was relieved not to have to repeat the argument of the week before.
Surprisingly, it was on Friday afternoon, just before a long three-day weekend thanks to a well-timed public holiday, that an unexpected visitor came to his lab to talk to him.
“Good afternoon, Peter.” Steve Rogers greeted him with a gentle smile. He was dressed in jeans and a beige zip-neck sweater. He looked so casual in his civvies that Peter had to do a double-take to make sure he was looking at Captain America and not a random good-looking 30-year-old man.
“Good afternoon, Captain Rogers.”
They had met a few times in passing, since Mr Stark had brought Peter to his personal labs in the higher levels of the tower more than a few times over the last few months. However, he had never encountered him on the lower floors where he conducted his daily research. It seemed his brief moment of peace had come to an end. Steve must have caught something in his expression, because he smiled knowingly and got straight to the point.
“I’m not here to lecture you, Peter. I heard from Tony and Bruce about how that went last week. Sounds like you gave them a piece of your mind.”
“That I did.” Peter huffed, still satisfied that he hadn’t let them push him around.
Steve chuckled. “I just want to give you some advice, from someone dating a traumatised ex-mercenary to another.”
Presented like that, it didn’t sound so bad. Peter gestured for Steve to take the chair near his table. Once seated, the captain sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“I won’t tell you what kind of person Deadpool is. You probably know him better than anyone.”
“I do.” Peter replied proudly. He caught the corner of Steve’s mouth curling up fondly.
“I fought alongside Deadpool with the Avengers. He’s a good fighter and his heart is in the right place. I’ve seen his fighting style change in the last few years. He’s not as lethal as he used to be. I can see why now.” He looked at him intently. “But for those of us who wear the suit, we sign up for danger. It’s part of the job. However, for someone like you, Peter, who doesn’t have to live that life, it can be… harder.”
Hadn’t he learned that the hard way? With Gwen, he had failed to separate the unsafe world of Spider-Man from the ordinary world of Peter Parker, and she had paid the price.
“I hope you don’t feel alone in this relationship.”
Peter blinked, startled that of all things, Captain Rogers was worried he might feel lonely at Wade’s side.
“Alone?” He repeated confusedly.
“I’ve learned that loving someone who carries a difficult past isn’t easy. I can only wonder how hard it is for a civilian. Love unfortunately doesn’t erase what someone’s been through.”
“But it makes you willing to face it with them.”
Steve seemed taken aback for a second, his eyes widening briefly. “That’s true.”
“I don’t feel alone, Captain Rogers.” Peter said determinedly. “I have never felt so loved in my life.”
Steve’s expression softened. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms loosely and smiling knowingly. “I’m glad to hear that, Peter.”
It felt good to finally have a meaningful conversation after this hectic week.
“Wade holds you in very high regard, Captain. Thank you for being respectful. You’re the first one this week.” He explained dejectedly.
Steve grimaced apologetically. “Sorry about that. I already touched a few words to my team about boundaries and manners. Your relationship is none of their business.”
Peter nodded in approval. “I know how tempting it is to see me as the damsel in distress and Wade as the vile dragon, but make no mistake, we are made for each other. There’s no need to worry about me.”
Steve let out a surprised chuckle. “I’m beginning to understand that very well.” Then he stood up from his chair, smoothed up his pants and adjusted the sleeves of his sweater. “It seems like I’m done here. You have everything handled perfectly.” He walked to Peter and patted his shoulder once. “If you ever feel the need to talk to someone, whether it’s because the weight of his battles feels a bit too much, or just because you had a bad day, I’ll be here to lend you an ear.”
“Thanks, Captain Rogers.” He smiled sincerely.
Steve winked and left the room after a warm goodbye.
When Wade and Peter get married, he’ll make sure to send him a special invitation. To Captain America and the Winter Soldier. He was certain Bucky had something to do with Steve being so lenient to Wade.
Thinking of marriage, Peter's soft grin grew into a beaming smile. It was time to go buy the ring he saw two months ago. It would fit Wade's finger perfectly.