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Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
    Organization for Transformative Works
From the beginning then, shall we? Because this one needs a backstory—every good story has a backstory (there is a reason why all the superhero movie serieses start with an origin story, no matter how badly they usually fuck those up (not the point)). And a backstory is even more important when you've got a million different versions of one particular arachnid. Yes, talking about the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Only this one goes by The Amazing, which, by the way, is not at all overkill.

There is a Bad Guy Wade’s been trying to catch and kebab. It's an alone-sort of a deal, even though he has a team, a fam, whom he loves to the moon and back, and whatever daddy Cable says, they love him back. Sweet and slightly erotic. But sometimes you gotta fly solo, including but not limited to sexy times. The solo project has brought him to New York, New York. NYC, the holy land of bagels, Broadway, daytime crime, and Spider-Man. Spider-Man. So yeah, whatever, Wade’s a fan, obviously, that's like his thing. And who wouldn't be? It's Spidey; righteous, friendly, never-done-anything-bad superhero the X-Men would be fucking proud of, a Robin Hood-ish babe in red and blue tights. And talking about those tights, bless that tush. It should be illegal to wear those in a public place. But he does, and it’s not like Wade is going to close his eyes. Besides, it would be quite irresponsible of him, with a bagel on the other hand and a gun on the other, to close his eyes. Illegal ass or not; it has taken long enough for Spidey and him to actually meet. Wade would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited.

He’s a bit too excited; he probably should’ve worn a jock, like the Canadian high-sticker that he is.

“Hiii, dude,” says Spider-Man on his way down from the rooftops. “How about you put down the gun, alright?”

“Uhh,” Wade says, grinning under his mask. “You are a lot nicer than in the comics. No ‘You should be scared of me, Deadpool’?”

“What’s a deadpool?” Spider-Man asks.

“What’s a—? Well, someone isn’t aware what this is going to be all about,” Wade says and throws the bagel away to offer his hand for a handshake. Or a pat-down. Whatever works. “It’s-a me, Deadpool. Wade works, too, but you can call me whatever, whenever. Big fan of your work, Spidery sir.”

Spider-Man crosses his arms on his chest.

“Come on, don’t leave a man hanging,” Wade says, shaking his hand around. “Awk-ward,” he sing-songs. Spidey doesn’t take the hand. It’s a shitty hand anyway, so no harm done. The bagel, however, that was an everything bagel. And now it's a bygone bagel. So long, bagel.

“Who are you, Deadpool?” Spider-Man asks. “And why do you have a gun?”

“I’ve got katanas and a few grenades, too,” Wade says, twisting to show Spidey his babies.

“Not helping.”

“There’s a baddie on the loose. I’m gonna get them, I’ve got this suit and all,” Wade explains as if that wasn’t clear as the sky already. “I’m on your side, baby.”

“I don’t side-along with people that go around guns blazing,” Spidey says.

“Gee, we’ve just met,” Wade says, sighing, “don’t make me choose between you and the girls.”

“Just saying,” Spider-Man says.

“And I thought we’ll buddy-cop this shit. We should buddy-cop this shit, c’mon, Spidey-boy, I’m a team player nowadays.”

“Well, I’m not,” Spider-Man says, and ouch. “Put the gun away. As long as you are in my city, I’ll be watching you, Deadpool.”

“And I should be scared of you?”

“Maybe you should,” Spidey says, and, because he’s fucking Spider-Man, he webs away Wade’s gun and thwip, there it goes; bygone gun. And then goes Spider-Man, too.

“Hate to see you go,” Wade shouts after him, “love to watch you swing away.”

Wade must be blessed by Betty White because goody-goody Spidey flips him over his shoulder. Hot. Though, guess Wade’s not going to get to roleplay as Kirsten Dunst anytime soon. But oh well, he likes Andrew Garfield’s movies better, anyway.

***

So, there was a Bad Guy. Note on the past tense, since that’s all worked out already. But the funny thing about New York; it seems to be like a magnet for other Bad Guys because dear fuck that place is swarming with baddies. It’s probably because of Spider-Man; everyone wants a piece of that ass. And Spidey’s all alone there, in the big city with all the baddies as his annoyance and well, Wade decides to hang around and help a bit.

Also, for plot purposes.

So yeah. Spidey and DP, what a great team.

Sure, Webs isn’t exactly on the same page with him. Yet.

“I see you’re still here,” Spider-Man says behind Wade. Wade almost flings himself off the rooftop and chokes a little on the taco. What is it with Spider-Man making him waste food?

“Jeez, Spidey, don’t go around sneaking up to people like that,” Wade wheezes, holding his chest. “I have an unfortunate tendency to shoot early. Not like that. Okay, little like that, too, but mostly I meant with a gun. That has bullets in it. Not the other kind.”

“Good to know we dodged those bullets. Both kinds.”

“And I almost lost this!” Wade shakes the taco and a bit of filling falls off. For fuck’s sake now. “What a waste of a Tuesday that would have been.”

Spider-Man gives him a long look. “It’s Thursday.”

Wade is about to say something else (not something about it being a pity Spidey wears the mask because he’s so sure Spidey has a mustache underneath the mask, he must’ve, there is just that kind of energy coming from him: mustache energy. It might also be just Wade’s hair-envy talking, or not envy per se, more respect. If he had any hair growing anywhere, he would make the most of it. Mustache and mullet, for sure.), but uhh.

“Potato, tomato.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It’s in text form, don’t worry about it, Webs.”

“What?” It’s almost adorable how baffled Spider-Man sounds. What a babe. Not only is he the Most Bubbly Butt Champion of 2000-forever and the Most Successful Superhero of All Times but also a total cutie.

And because there is no filter, Wade says: “You’re cute."

“Thank… you?”

“You’re welcome, sweet cheeks. And I mean that.”

Spider-Man says nothing. And when he does, he changes the topic completely. “Did you catch your baddie then?”

Around a mouthful of food, Wade asks: “Wha-h?” Not a good time to talk; Taco Thursday is just as good as Tuesday, and whatever day it was, he is going to take the chance as long as he has it. He is a bit scared of, not Spidey, never Spidey, but Spidey making him throw away this taco too. It’s not actually funny the second time, and he’s hungry for fuck’s sake, he had to grow a new leg just a couple of hours ago and growing boys need food—which, also, good thing Spidey didn’t come lurking on him then. Wade’s not one to be ashamed of his little adorable new limbs but Spider-Man is probably too pure and innocent to see that. Spider-Man is always PG-rated. This isn't, this is Teens and Up. For language, don't get excited. He finishes the taco and puts down his mask.

“You came here to get a bad guy, right? Did you catch them?” Spider-Man asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Wade says (reason for his newest new limb, thank you very much).

“Where are they?” Spidey asks, and o-oh, Wade’s in capital T, T-r-o-u-b-l-e.

“Whoopsies?” Wade tries.

“Fuck,” Spider-Man says, and, wow. Wade really should have come prepared with jocks, fuck, this spidery man is going to be sweet death of him. “That’s not good, Deadpool.”

“No, but they were really bad. Like a pervert in a bodysuit made of the scalps of children type bad,” Wade says. “I don’t kill just anyone, pinky promise.”

The face Spider-Man manages to give him even with the mask on, is terrifying. Yikes. If this was Spidey’s point of view, there would be Taylor Swift with trouble, trouble, trouble in the background of this scene. (Wade’s more of a 1989 era sort of guy and he'll happily have Taylor in the background with cherry lips, crystal skies, I could show you incredible things, winky face, eggplant emoji.)

“I don’t care if they were bad or whatever,” Spider-Man says. “You can’t kill people.”

“Guess I just did, buttercup,” Wade says.

“Then what makes you any better than any other 'Bad Guy'?” Spider-Man asks, and uses actual finger bunnies around Bad Guy, oh, my god

“Oh, my god,” Wade says. “This is not going according to plan at all. We were supposed to partner up and save the city together as besties and swing to the sunset together and then you'd tell me your name and show me your pretty face and maybe we would’ve kissed in a situation where it was totally suitable like perhaps it was raining and you were upside-down and—”

“Don't think I'll partner up with someone who kills people.”

“Fine,” Wade says. “One redemption arc coming up, think we have time for that?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got time,” Spider-Man says, leaning his head back, chin up; it’s a challenge. “It’s not like I’ve got something else to do.”

“Good!” Wade says.

“No, I was jo—”

“Nah ah, no takesy backsies, babe,” Wade says, shaking his index finger. “We’re gonna buddy-cop this redemption arc. Spidey as the good cop, the Jedi Master. Help me, Spider-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

With a groan to the skies, Spider-Man says: “I'm going to regret this, am I?”

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

***

For legal reasons and to avoid a visit to Hell’s Kitchen, let’s make it clear that Wade is not stalking Spider-Man. No way, Jose. Wade just has a… Spidey sense. Or more accurately he has a baddie sense that just puts him in the right place at the right time. Or maybe Wade was just watching the news and the news very helpfully told there is a murderous robot going around the city. Seriously, New York, what’s the matter with you? Maybe it is Spider-Man’s fault after all. Or not, fuck it, Wade doesn’t actually care, because there is a murderous robot on the loose and Spidey is all alone there, fighting a big baddie in thighs and Wade is ready to assist. This would be the third time in a week he’d see Spider-Man and to be quite honest, Wade is sort of missing the image of one red and blue spandex boy. One particular boy, not just any boys. Fine, fine, fucking fine, he misses Spidey. Alright, now that that embarrassing detail is out of the way; action. Please, a robot, two superheroes to save the day and perhaps, just perhaps Spider-Man would be happy to see Wade.

A man can wish, right?

In the news the robot baddie has been heading to 5th Avenue, so that’s where Wade heads. He runs because unlike Spidey, he is not local and he doesn’t have a MetroCard yet. When he comes to the street, he doesn’t have to guess if Spidey is already there, because he quite literally swings by him, shooting webs at the robot, hitting the machine on its… face thingy. At least the robot stumbles back a bit with webs on its front.

“Whoops,” Spidey says, swinging around the robot, webbing it. “I’m sorry, dear, I got excited and shot early.”

Is it too early to say Wade is in love because Wade is in love.

“Need a hand?” Wade shouts when Spider-Man comes close enough, landing on the pavement in front of Wade.

“Yeah,” Spider-Man says, a slight, sexy pant in his voice. “If you could, that fucker isn’t stepping down.”

“Ay, ay,” Wade says, saluting with two fingers before going into the battle.

They win. Obviously they do, they are awesome, and Spidey is hot and Wade is cool and they are a good team. He says as much to Spider-Man once they are all clear and the murderous robot is killed dead.

“I guess,” Spider-Man says, not panting anymore but sexy still. “Thanks.”

“Team SM and DP,” Wade sighs, then frowns. “Don’t google that, you’d end up on pages that would need more than just parental guidance.”

“You talk some nonsense sometimes,” Spider-Man says, and Wade can almost, just almost hear the smile in his voice. Sweet.

“No, I’m serious, don’t,” Wade says. “Trust me, I’ve done it. Good thing Blind-Al is blind because woo wee.”

Spider-Man snorts a laugh. Adorable. “You’re weird.”

“And you’re cute, we’ve been over this,” Wade says. Spidey crosses his arms on his chest but Wade just knows, he just knows that Spidey is pleased. Gosh, that boy needs to hear more praises because he’s needy. Good thing Wade is willing to give. And receive. He’s versatile like that. But most importantly he can praise Spidey all day long if it only made Spidey feel good.

Damn. Wade probably is in love. Oh, well.

“You hungry?” he asks before he says something stupid like I love you or something like that. It probably is too early for that, even if no one is calling this a slow burn at any rate.

“What?” Spider-Man asks.

“Do you want something to eat?” Wade asks. “I mean, I have a theory that when I eat alone in your presence, my food just goes to waste because something about you makes me waste food. I’d like to eat because we’re super awesome and just won a fight against a robot-thing, and maybe if I ate with you, meaning that you would eat too, my food could be safer.”

“Uh,” Spidey says. “Yes. If you’re paying. I don’t have any money on me.”

“Obviously,” Wade says, “because I’d like to know where you’d cache some cash in that suit. It’s tiiight.”

“Yeah, well,” Webs says, shrugging, “it’s not like I’d turn down free food.”

“Good,” Wade says, “goody-goody-good. Where to? Pizza, tacos, Chinese?”

“You’re paying,” Spider-Man says, “I’m down for anything.”

Fucking same, Wide thinks, and for once his thoughts don’t go blabbering out.

***

“Jesus fuck me, Wade, what the fuck?” Spider-Man’s voice has a sweet, sweet tone of concern in it; Wade knows Webs secretly likes him, for fuck’s sake, they’ve been hanging out for weeks, and Spidey just keeps coming back.

Fine, okay. Wade has been hanging out with Spidey, and perhaps he has been intentionally searching him out BUT Spidey hasn’t told him off yet. Fine, he has, but not like that. They have been catching bad guys like fucking superheroes (if Colosseus would see him now, that chrome-assed wussy would probably cry tears of pure oil with how proud he was). They have had four rooftop picnics (Spidey is fucking poor, and when Wade has very nicely offered him a place as a sugar baby, Spidey actually booted himself off the roof and Wade didn’t see him for two days. A weird reaction, a simple no would have done it). It has been good, Wade has been good, probably better than ever, but Spidey just has that effect on him. It’s disgusting.

“I don’t think Jesus would be up to that, but if you’re really after some sweet fucking, I will volunteer as a tribute,” Wade says. “Not that it’d be great pain. It could be if you’re into that, but you know what I mean, don’t you, baby boy. I know you do, you go all kinds of hot for some light bondage and you’ve got the craziest praise kink known to man, and believe me, I’ve known a few men in my time. Don’t try to deny it, I know your secrets, Webs.”

“And what would you be fucking with exactly?” Spider-Man asks, almost frantically, making a vague gesture towards him with both hands. “There’s no lower part of you.”

“Aren’t you a narrow-minded little thing,” Wade sighs. “Sex doesn’t have to be only genitals and penetration, a lot of can be done by just hands and mouths—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Spidey talks over him, which, rude. “Where are your legs?”

Oh, yeah. About that. “Gone?” It comes out as a question because the truth is, Wade is not exactly sure where they are. Blown up somewhere. It doesn’t matter, he thinks they are already starting to grow back. Ah, what a blast, growing tiny legs. Though, he had a M&M’s in the pouch. The pouches are gone as well as his pant legs. And legs altogether. And his M&M’s. Goddammit, New York City and all of his food getting lost. No wonder Spidey is playing hard to get; that damn snack of a man.

“How?” Spidey asks. “No, wait, I think I don’t want to know, so don’t tell me.”

“Was sort of out for most of it anyway,” Wade says.

“Out as in—?”

“Yees,” Wade says slowly, narrowing his eyes. They’ve had a Talk about mutants and extreme healing factors and X-Men and all that shit. Wade has thought Spidey would have known about that already but Spider-Man is an oblivious little thing — to be fair, Wade has thought Spidey would have known about him but in this universe, Spider-Man seems to think he’s the only mutant in the neighbourhood. So shush, keep it quiet, Universe, don’t spoil it for Spidey, he thinks he’s special.

Though, he is. Special. But not in the way of The Only Mutant in the World but in other ways.

“Well, shit. That sucks,” Spider-Man says and sort of flops next to Wade. It’s nicer that way, Wade doesn’t have to look up to him literally as well as figuratively.

“By all means, kiss it better,” Wade says because although he is only growing new feet, he has a permanent one in his mouth.

“You’re disgusting,” Spider-Man says but there is no heat in his voice.

“And you’re cute.”

“Still not going to,” Spidey says.

“I won’t be pointing out you haven’t dropped any nevers there,” Wade says, pointing out just that.

“Hm,” Spider-Man hums, and Wade is very happily going to take that as a promise. “How long is this going to take?” Spidey asks, gesturing towards Wade’s non-existing bottom half.

“Some time,” Wade says. “Why?”

“So you’re still going to be here, say, in fifteen minutes?” Spider-Man asks, standing up.

“Probs. Why?”

“I’m just going to swing by home and get some money, back in a few” Spider-Man says. “I’m in the mood for ice-cream.”

“Are you deliberately trying to make me fall for you or what?” Wade asks. Spider-Man laughs, says BRB and swings away.

***

Alright, folks, now we’re getting at it! Here’s the thing, and the thing has gone haywire. Not quite Fugazi-style but things are fucking weird . Who would have thought that New York without Spider-Man would be like a fish without a bicycle? Wait, no, wrong analogy. New York without Spidey is like Deadpool without, well, Spidey. Lonely. Sad. Horny. Anyway, the haywire: Spidey’s gone bamf and there is something a-fuck in the world.

And, perhaps it’s just that Spidey got himself very drunk and got accidentally lost in Bali and is having wild, drunken sex on the beach, both the drink and the act. Sand everywhere. Uh-huh. No need to worry about anything else than rash in places you don’t want to get rash. Besides, Wade’s been covering up for Spider-Man. It seems that New Yorkers don’t really care which red-suited super is clearing the streets by the night as long as the streets are clear. Sure, there might be a bit more unlived people than on Spidey’s shift but who counts anyway? It’s New York, people don’t have time to care. And Wade surely doesn’t care, cue Bad Reputation by the ultimate babe Joan Jett. Hello, boys, indeed.

Anywho, if Spidey’s on a sex holiday or not, the world seems even more fucked than usually, and not only because the timelines and canon are ever-moving, thanks to you, looking at you Sony and Fox. There are holes in the sky. And people keep zip-zapping in and out.

To be quiii-te honest, that’s probably where Spidey’s gone. But no need to worry, it’s the friendly neighborhood ‘Pool’s time to shine. Besides, Spider-Man’s a fucking superhero and those have a habit of turning out juuust fine. It has been two days and nothing very-very bad has happened. Yet.

It turns out nothing very-very bad has time to happen before that very night—we call that lazy writing but let’s just skip that, world building who? We don’t know her—the holes in the sky squeeze in, and twenty minutes later Wade finds Spidey. Puking on an alleyway. Bali it is then.

“Uh-huh, baby-y,” Wade says. Spidey has his mask halfway up over his nose and as Wade crouches down, Spidey looks up. Wade gets closer and takes a big ol’ sniff.

“Is my special boy hung-over? You smell weird but not ‘got smashed and accidentally got lost in Bali’ weird,” Wade says, leaning an elbow on his thigh and face on his palm.

“What?” Spider-Man asks, puts the mask back down; pity.

“You, Spidey-Boy, have been missing,” Wade says. “And I’ve been covering up. Look at that, no wonder Disney wants a piece of this ass - not that that piece of ass wasn’t tight but you know, our Spider-Man is just what the Mouse wants. Don’t ask me how it went, though, there might have been a few incidents that didn’t go down right as the holy rule book of Spidey’s says, you know, no killing and all that jazz but I promise you they were bad, and in a way that shouldn’t bother you but know you, baby boy, you would be bothered so don’t ask, alright.”

“Alright,” says Spidey.

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you alright?” Wade asks and starts patting Spidey down. There must be something wrong with him because he lets Wade’s hands wander more than usual. Nice, that is a tight ass.

Spidey puts his hands up. “Fine.”

“Not drunk?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Spidey says, only he doesn’t sound too sure about himself. He should probably know that being drunk isn’t actually very in character for him, and now that he thinks about it, neither are sex holidays.

“Then what?” Wade asks, not only to distract himself from the thought of sex and Spider-Man and most of all, sex with Spider-Man. Yikes. “I mean, probably something very exciting. Like a side-story, a little bonus for the fans? Or an adventure with other superheroes, like a team-up. Ohh, did you finally meet the Fantastic Four? I bet you and Johnny-boy would go together swingingly. No? A cross-over? Were you in space? Kidnapped? Jumped into a wormhole by accident?”

Spidey hesitates but only a second. “I… yeah, kind of?”

Wade blinks. “For real?”

“Yes,” Spidey says. “Gosh, I’m starving. You hungry?”

“Baby boy, asking me on a date?” Wade asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Spider-Man sighs visibly. “Sure. Pizza?”

Spidey has gone into another universe, because of magic and there has been another Spider-Mans (Spider-Men? Spideys) there, and baddies, too. And there has been a fucking wizard involved. Gosh, the fanservice it has given people, it's almost like someone would make a movie that has both Deadpool and Wolverine on the title and a few pretty good cameos on it, almost. And apparently those Spidery Boys had had to team up, so! A score for Wade, Wade decides, because this Spider-Man has been learning about team work with him and that's all because of Wade, isn't it? Who would've thought Wade would do something like that for the great MCU. The Mouse owes him one.

“I realized something back there,” Spider-Man says. There has been pizza and talking, like a date. “You know, only people that came from this universe to the other Spider-Man’s, were bad guys I've fought. Because no one else knows my real identity.”

“I think that might have also just been the whole plot,” Wade says.

“Not the point,” says Spider-Man, and — hold the fucking phone! Spidey makes a weird, jerky movement as if he was deciding and hesitating at the same time, which resulted in him jacking the mask off with such a quick movement, it takes Wade a few seconds to realize Spidey just unmasked himself in front of Wade.

Wade gasps. With probably more force than necessary and it makes Spidey fucking blush. Jesus Christ in a kebab, what is happening? This is supposed to happen only if a) the world ends b) Spidey fucking dies and decides to reveal his identity to Wade in his last moments. This is not either of those things. It’s just Spidey, taking off his mask just because. The multiverse trip must have fried some nerve ends badly.

And, fuck Wade with all the forces of the multiverse, Spidey’s fucking a-d-o-r-a-b-l-e. All fluffy hair and a face that would make girls cream themselves just by looking at him, Wade included. Fuck him.

“So,” Spidey says. “Hi. I'm Peter. Peter Parker.”

“Hi, Peter,” Wade says, standing up because he can’t deal with this,“I'm going to go now.”

“What? That’s not very nice, I just told you who I am,” Spidey-Peter says. “Stop, Wade, where are you going?”

“I’m just going to jump off this building so I don’t have to look at your perfect face,” Wade says. He takes a step towards the edge, but there is a thwip and a hard jab that makes Wade stumble a couple of steps backward as Spidey's web sticks on his backside (unfortunately, not in a very kinky way).

“You’re an idiot,” Spidey says but there is a smile in his words.

“Well, you’re cute. Ten out of ten, would smash in a heartbeat. Who would have thought Spidey’s a fucking babe underneath the mask. Who gave you the permission to have a cute ass and face? Fuck’s sake, the universe must love you. Hot and cute all in one, that’s just not fair. How am I supposed to ever look at you in the face now that I know it’s ever better than your ass.”

“Stop it.”

“Oh, no no no, don’t you dare blush. Goodbye, Petey.” Wade tries to move again but Peter yanks him so hard he goes tumbling down, flat on his ass.

“Stop it,” Peter says. “I'm trying to have a genuine moment here.”

“Wait,” Wade says. the wheels turning in his mind a bit slow because all his blood is somewhere else than in his brain at the moment, “wait a hot minute. Peter Parker?”

“Ah, yes,” Peter says, with a little hesitation.

“Peter Parker, the photographer?” Wade asks, grinning now. “Do you sell selfies to The Bulge?”

Peter shrugs with one shoulder. “Easy money.”

“You’re amazing,” Wade says. Because he is. Literally.

“You’re a flatterer.”

“Nope, I’m pretty sure I’m in love but whatever.”

“Seriously,” Peter says, shaking his head a little. “Do you even hear the things you say?”

“Yes,” Wade says. “You think I’m lying? I’ll never lie to you, Petey-pie.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Peter says flatly. “You realize this is a big deal, right? I don’t go around telling people that Peter Parker is Spider-Man.”

“Fuck me,” is all Wade says. To be honest, it’s both a curse and a plea.

Peter makes a face like he’s trying to bite back a smile, and for Pete’s sake, Wade’s going to shoot himself in the face if Peter doesn’t put on the mask because Wade just can’t keep on looking at his face.

“At least buy me dinner first,” Peter says.

Wait what?

“What?” Wade asks, it comes out a lot more like a whine than he’d like to admit.

“You heard me, Wilson.”

Wade is going to die dead. “Does this count?” he asks, pointing at the half eaten pizza between them.

Peter tilts his head, a finger on his mouth as if he was thinking. “I don’t know. Does it?”

“Please?”

Yeaaah, Wade is gone. Byegone Wade. So long Wade.

“Were the others as cute as you? I fucking bet you were the cutest,” Wade says.

Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. The one whose universe we were was in high school,” Peter says. “Can’t really say if he was cute or not because uh, weird.”

“And the other one?”

Peter shrugs again, which, wow, okay.

“You should’ve told me before, I could’ve been there too!” Wade says. “Three of you, oh man. I’ve had at least eight dreams like that.”

“Probably for the best you weren’t there,” Peter grins. “Bad guys I could explain but you.”

“There was a wizard and I would’ve been hard to explain?” Wade laughs. “Don’t try to lie to me, baby boy, I know you just want to keep me all to yourself.”

Peter says nothing.

“Oh, my god,” Wade gasps. “I was joking. You do?”

“Well,” Peter says, cheeks pink and seriously, the universe, or all of them, are really trying to kill Wade dead because how should he be able to stand Peter Parker. “You have been calling me cute for weeks.”

“Because you are. And I don’t just mean your face, which, by the way, is too much for me to handle. I’m only a bit sad you don’t have a mustache but if I’d known you were hiding that underneath that mask, this could have been a very different sort of story. With dry humping and back alley quickies. I could’ve found out if your suit is a onesie or if it has two parts for easy access. Not that I would be saying no to that now but you know what I mean.”

“I don’t, but okay,” Peter says.

“And I knew you liked it,” Wade says. “Praise kink, I know one when I see one, and you, Peter Parker, are a walking example of one.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter says and smiles, and Wade actually hits him with the Spider-Man mask. “What—”

“Put it back on,” Wade orders him. “I can’t look at you and your stupid face.”

“You said it was cute just a second ago,” Peter says, faux pouting and not putting on the mask.

“I take it back,” Wade says. “I take it all back. Forget that I said that I’m in love with you or that your ass is sexy because you make me stupid and I’ve never meant anything I’ve ever said to you. Seriously, what sort of lottery did you enter to get all that? It couldn’t have been the spider because I’ve never seen a spider that’d make me feel things.”

“Shut up,” Peter says, grinning.

“Never.”

“I was hoping for a ‘make me’,” Peter says. “Could’ve pretended I was provoked.”

“What are you—”

What is that Peter mutters, Geez, you’re an idiot, Wade, which is rude, but with the words, Peter reaches towards him, puts one hand on Wade’s face where half of it is still hidden underneath his mask, half of it rolled so he had been able to eat. And the thing is, Wade is not exactly an idiot and he has been there before. Not with Spidey but other people. Some people, not exactly that many but some. And he has used the same move Peter does, so when Peter kisses him, he chokes only a little.

Okay, fine. Wade gasps and almost doesn’t realize to kiss Peter back because Peter Parker is Spider-Man and Peter Parker is kissing him, Wade Wilson. Some nerve ends have really been fried because Peter has lost his mind, there is no other explanation.

“Yes,” Wade says, when Peter leans back, looking at him with a smile and crinkly eyes.

“Yes what?”

“I’m an idiot,” Wade says. It's quite nice he can still speak, but oh god he would very much like to do something else with his mouth. Like, kiss again, or maybe, if Peter really is this fried, he could blow him on the roof. Or just kiss, that would be nice enough.

“I didn't really mean it,” Peter says, frowning. He’s a-d-o-r-a-b-l-e and Wade is in love, and that’s it, nothing else to say.

“Shh, baby boy,” Wade says anyway, putting one leathered finger on Peter's lips. “I'd be anything for you.”

“A-ha,” Peter says against Wade's finger. Jesus, Wade's never going to wash these cloves ever again. Nor his mouth.

“You could just shut up,” Peter says then, taking Wade's hand away. But he’s smiling. Like, really wide, with eyes and all. And Wade loves it. Just a bit. Tiny bit. Itsy-Bitsy.

“Never,” Wade says again. “Well, there is this one scene in X-Men Origins, but no one really likes to talk about that.”

Peter looks at him, and without the mask the confused, amused face he gives him is just too much. So, Wade kind of kisses it. The face, Peter’s face, his lips probably because something is kissing him back and Wade really hopes that the whole spider-thing doesn’t make it possible to kiss with something else on his face.

He needs to pull back to make sure.

“You are so weird,” Peter says, shaking his head but smiling. Good.

“A weird idiot,” Wade says. “Not a nightmare dressed like a daydream?” he tries.

“Nah,” Peter says, grinning. “Just a weird idiot.”

Wade is in love, thank you very much.

“You know,” Wade says, with all the sincerity he can master, “there’s a universe out there where we are heartmates.”

“Shut up,” Peter says, and goddammit, he’s adorable, one of his knees brought to his chest, arm on the knee, chin on the arm. He has his mask back on, thank fuck, Wade couldn’t have looked at that face longer. He fucking knew Andrew was the best, though.

“I’m serious. Heartmates.”

“Yeah, no, I believe you,” Peter says.

“Could be this one, too,” Wade says, wistfully, with a side glance to Peter. Peter turns his head towards him.

“Could be, yeah.”

Incredible things, indeed.