Chapter Text
“You want me to what?”
MJ huffed at him, stirring creamer into her coffee. “Come to the Yankees game with me on Saturday. Harry got the tickets weeks ago, but a work emergency came up and he’s not even going to be in the country now. You are my best friend and therefore required to come because there are already tickets. I believe it’s in the friend rules.”
Peter gave a long-suffering sigh. “Yankees? That’s…badminton, right?”
She gave him a look. “Baseball, Peter. Baseball. Yankees versus Red Sox.”
He sighed. “I don’t like baseball. It’s long and boring and…long.” Peter finished his caramel macchiato and considered going for a second one. He loved these things, and with his heightened metabolism was he rarely worried about what he ate or drank. He’d burn through the calories easily enough.
“Peter, you’re a Mets fan!”
“Well, sure, if you include the kind of fan who checks the scores and standings but doesn’t actually watch games. Because they are boring. Also, you said Yankees game. I’m a Mets fan; why would I want to go to a Yankees game?”
“Pfft. You are going so I’m not going alone. I don’t want to find they’ve resold the extra seat because no one claimed the ticket; I have no need to spend an entire game fending off some unknown. Bring a book to read or something if you think the game’s too boring.” She gave him a smirk. “Although honestly I thought you’d at least enjoy ogling the players.”
Scarlet flushed up his cheeks. “MJ!”
“Some of those uniforms really show off their ass – eep!” She laughed as he threw a sugar packet at her. It landed in her coffee and she fished it out with a spoon. “Now you have to come with me to make up for ruining my coffee.”
Peter slouched back in his chair. “Ugh, fine, fine, I’ll come watch golf with you.”
“Baseball.”
“It’s a sport with a stick and they hit a ball. Close enough.”
She threw the sugar packet back at him, laughing when it stuck to his cheek. “Saturday! Don’t forget! And cancel your evening plans, just in case it goes into extra innings.”
“Extra innings? That’s a thing?” Peter groaned, then blinked innocently at her. “Wait, what’s an inning?”
She upended the bowl of sugar packets over his head.
**
“Why am I doing this again?”
Wade watched Weasel debiting one of Wade’s accounts through Sister Margaret’s computer system. “Because, asswipe, you screwed up the last job twice. Which is pretty fucking impressive. Usually you only screw it up once, but no, you managed twice.”
“Usually I don’t screw them up,” Wade complained.
“Yes, I know, but that’s not the point. The point is you owe me because I’m the one who spent five hours apologizing to the sponsor for you getting them arrested plus posting their damn bail money for them! I can’t shoot you because you don’t fucking die and I can’t stop giving you jobs because when you do them right you make way more than anyone else in this joint. So I am going to torture you with something you’ll find completely boring and inane and takes up at least several hours of your life.” He finished the online purchase. “Hence you’re going with me to a fucking baseball game and I really hope you hate it from start to finish.”
“Yes, but – “
“I happen to like baseball; is that a fucking problem Wade?!”
Wade shook his head. “It’s just I had things to do this Saturday.” He didn’t mention Spider-Man had finally agreed to come by and play videogames before they went out on a patrol. That wouldn’t go over well with Weasel in this mood.
“Well, consider your plans canceled.”
“Yes, but- “
“Apologizing! For five fucking hours! I had to get a thesaurus so I stopped repeating myself!”
Wade slumped on the bar. “Fine, fine, I will come watch baseball.”
**
Deadpool looked up as Spider-Man landed on the roof next to him. He shoved the last of his burrito in his mouth and rolled down his mask; they’d been meeting up on rooftops and at crime scenes for nearly a year, but he hadn't let Webs see his face yet. Peter didn't blame him; he hadn't offered his own face up for inspection. “Hey, Shpider-Mahn,” the mercenary mumbled while chewing. Swallowed. “Brought you dinner.”
Spidey settled onto the edge of the roof, pulling out the burrito and unwrapping it. Lifted his mask up over his nose so he could eat. “Thanks DP. You didn’t have to though.” It wasn't one of the best burritos he'd eaten but free food was free food. And he had to admit he liked the companionship, something he hadn’t imagined would be true when he’d first met the merc. Deadpool’s company had grown on him over time and the random meet-ups had been enjoyable enough that they’d scheduled patrols together several times a week. There really weren’t a lot of supers who just hung out at night looking for the run of the mill criminal. Having someone else around who got the idea was nice.
It didn’t hurt he found the mercenary sexy as hell. The leather suit showed off the older man’s physique to perfection and Peter often found him distracting beyond the constant banter. His feelings for the merc ran deeper than he wanted to admit; he kept wondering what it would be like to sleep with Deadpool, but he’d never tried to find out. The man propositioned practically everyone they met. He’d once watched Deadpool ask a streetlight out on a date.
Plus, while he was certainly enjoying the fantasies of Deadpool his mind conjured, he wasn’t so sure he was going to enjoy the reality. He hadn’t exactly been lucky in relationship departments so far in his life; wrecking what had turned into a pretty solid friendship on the off chance Deadpool was serious didn’t seem like his smartest option. He was nervous that if he took Deadpool up on one of these offers it would turn out it had all been a joke. And then he’d have to feel pathetic. No, unrequited lust – love – crushing – seemed the safest course of action.
“You’re always hungry, Webs. Besides it’s more an apology burrito.”
“Apology burrito? What’s it apologizing for?”
Deadpool sighed despondently enough that Spider-Man sat up in alarm. “I gotta cancel for Saturday and videogames. A friend – something came up and I can’t get out of it. I’m sorry, Webs. I tried.”
“Oh.” He was grateful his mask hid his blush. He’d completely forgotten about going over to Deadpool’s before they went on patrol. Some friend he thought he was. Guilt churned in his stomach, mixing uneasily with the burrito. He should have remembered.
Argh, he was forgetting to talk.
“Well, okay. I hope everything’s all right? I mean, surely it’s more important to spend time with your friends?” He thought about what he said. “Not that I’m not your friend, but your other friends! Like friends without masks on! It is friends without masks, right?” he stammered. Deadpool had been after him for weeks to do something more relaxing together. It must be important if Deadpool had to cancel.
Deadpool laughed. “Without masks and without benefits too.” He leaned over and nuzzled his cheek on Spider-Man’s shoulder, staring up at him like a puppy. Spider-Man really envied how expressive Deadpool’s mask was. And was grateful his own hid his blush as his heart gave a little treacherous thump. He liked this too much.
“Oh Webs, does that mean since we’re friends with masks we can be friends with benefits? Because I’m ready to be all in, if you know what I mean…”
He really shouldn’t enjoy the random snuggling as much as he did. If he wasn’t planning on taking Deadpool up on the offer he shouldn’t be encouraging him. He did the safe thing under the circumstances and shoved Deadpool back to sitting upright. “Deadpool!”
“That’s not a no….”
He pulled his mask down. “Come on, let’s patrol.” And because he was blushing at the flirting, and disappointed Deadpool had to cancel their Saturday plans even though he would have had to himself, he leapt off the building and webbed over to the next one, without letting Deadpool climb onto his back first.
“That’s still not a no!” Deadpool shouted behind him.
Peter paused, took a deep breath, and turned around. “Well? Are you coming or do I have to come back and—" He cut off as Deadpool flung himself off the roof after him. Sighing, he shot out webs to catch the larger man and pulled him up. “You do remember you can’t fly, right?”
Deadpool made a heart with his hands. “And yet, here I am! So the friends with benefits is gonna be a thing, right? I have a little red-and-black dress I’ve been saving for the right occasion and this could be it, Webs, this could be it!”
Peter just laughed. “You’re really lucky I like you. Let’s go. I want to get some patrol in tonight.”
He wasn’t entirely sure he was meant to hear Deadpool’s mumbled, “Yeah, I am,” but he did, and he considered canceling his plans with MJ until he remembered Deadpool had canceled first.
“So if you’re busy Saturday then maybe we get together Sunday? For videogames!” he asked, voice pitching a bit higher than he meant.
“It’s a date!”
“It’s not a date!” He wished he had the courage to say it was a date.
“Awwwwwwww. What if I brought flowers?”
**
Peter stood in front of his closet wondering what one wore to a baseball game. He didn’t own any sports jerseys or t-shirts unless a Quidditch one counted, and he felt confident MJ would say it did not. He ran a hand through his shower-damp, mouse-brown hair and flopped backwards onto his bed with a sigh.
He really wished he was going to play videogames with Deadpool right now. Heck, he wished he was on a date with Deadpool right now. That had to be better than a baseball game. He imagined what Deadpool might look like in the dress, wondering if it was tight and slinky or frilly and floofy. Deadpool had shown up twice to patrol wearing floofy dresses, though, so more than likely it was frilly. Just thinking about it was more enticing than he would have originally thought, a slight blush tinging his cheeks and warmth curling in his stomach.
His pocket buzzed and he startled before he could really get a good daydream going. MJ had sent a countdown timer. Ugh. Twenty minutes until she swung by to pick him up. He didn’t have time to fantasize about Deadpool.
Okay. Think baseball, he told himself firmly. He stared at his closet. Absolutely nothing in his closet seemed like baseball. Eventually he settled on black jeans, and a t-shirt that read: Science! I’m one accident away from being a supervillain.
MJ laughed when she saw it. “You are the least likely person I know to be a supervillain, Tiger.”
He grinned back. “Awww, you say the nicest things.”
**
Wade watched the crowds heading into Yankee Stadium and tried to convince himself that no one was looking at him or paying attention to him. He hated being out in public without his face on, but Weasel had insisted on civilian wear. And to be honest, as much as he wanted to be upset about it, blending in would be better than sticking out in a place where an easy escape wasn’t possible. From a distance, he’d just be a faceless member of the crowd.
“What are you wearing?”
Wade glanced over Weasel’s outfit, a shockingly normal Yankees jersey, blue jeans and baseball cap ensemble, and then looked down at the Maple Leafs jersey he had on under his hoodie. “Sports jersey? I don’t have anything for baseball, and I thought this would work better than my Canada National Curling team shirt. I have a cheerleader outfit I can wear instead? Is it the jeans? You wanted me in a skirt?”
Weasel rubbed at his face as people streamed past them into the stadium. “I begin to regret I thought of this.”
“Yeah, lemme just go home and change into the skirt and-“
“No! You don’t need a skirt. Keep your pants on, for fuck’s sake.”
Wade tried very hard not to smirk. “There’s something I don’t hear every day.”
Weasel rolled his eyes. “Okay, glad we’re past that. Now, you’re buying all the food and the drinks. If I want a souvenir you get that for me too.”
“All this plus I get the joy of watching baseball.”
“I had. To pay. His bail.” Weasel glared up at him. “You should be thanking me I didn’t find a double-header.”
“That sounds kinky,” Wade leered at him. “You sure you not wanting some of this after the game?” He rocked his hips in Weasel’s direction.
“I’m going to be sick.” Weasel turned to lead them through the crowd into the ballpark.
Wade frowned as they got further in. “With this on my dime I would have thought we’d be in an air-conditioned box.”
“Couldn’t get one; they’d already been reserved. But I still got really good seats.” He shrugged. “Less expensive than I wanted to make you spend on this but the really, really good seats no one sits in who’s a real fan, they are just there for the experience or the food. We’re at least behind the Yankees dugout. Just up a level.” He checked the tickets and then the signs. “This way.”
“Yay,” Wade whispered sarcastically under his breath, making little ‘yippee’ motions with his hands.
**
Peter was glad he’d brought a book to the game. This many people had his Spider-senses on a low-grade buzz at the back of his skull. It wasn’t enough to really worry him – no one around was actively planning something – but it made him a bit jumpy. The book gave him something to focus on and ignore the sensation.
“Hey. Can we get past?”
Peter looked up from reading as two men started into the aisle, and he stood to let them through. The first wasn’t all that interesting in his baseball jersey and cap and mentally Peter dismissed him. The second caught his eye first for wearing a hoodie up over his head and second for having an amazing ass, followed by a set of shoulders that made him catch his breath. Damn. Now this game would be torture, spidey-sense plus sitting next to hot eye candy. The guy was probably a fan and all Peter knew of baseball was, well, there was a stick and you hit a ball. And when you didn’t, you got made fun of in gym class.
He slid back down into his seat as the man flopped into his own and took over the shared armrest. Peter scrunched a little closer to MJ to give him room, wondering who the Maple Leafs were.
“Hey, it’s rude to stare, but I’ll take it, since for once someone seems lost in my chest and not recoiling from my face.”
“What?” Peter yanked his eyes up and then swallowed; what had happened to the man’s face? Under the hoodie, the man looked like a burn victim, skin scarred and twisted, but what caught Peter’s attention was the lovely deep brown shade of his eyes. “Whoa, your eyes are gorgeous.” A mortified blush turned Peter’s entire face scarlet, and he stammered out, “Sor- sorry! Just – yeah! Sorry!” before burying his face back in his book.
MJ gave Wade an apologetic smile over Peter’s head. “He really is. Sorry about him.” She turned back to reading her program booklet.
**
Wade looked between Weasel – solidly ignoring him and reading player stats in his program – and Cute But Awkward Guy – still brilliant red from blushing and firmly engaged with his book – and he sighed, slouching into the bleacher seat.
This was going to be absolute torture.