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It’s been over two months since he was released from the hospital and Peter feels great, in fact he can’t remember the last time he felt this…whole. He’s been mending his relationship with Ned and exploring a new friendship with Frank, though that consists less of hanging out and more of dropping in to bother each-other with dead end info. He’s kept his life balanced between Peter Parker and Spider-Man, his new routine helps a lot with that. He spends most days with Ned or making new connections then suits up to patrol at night. There’s just one hiccup in his calm new life, the kevlar mercenary that showed up two months ago and won’t leave him alone.
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two months prior
It’s been quite some time since Peter put the suit on, considering everyone’s strict orders that he rest and heal up properly. But he’s been getting antsy and can hear the cries for help all around him. Just a quick swing around the city, he tells himself. He suits up and leaps off his rooftop, letting the wind run over his body and gravity pull him down to the earth before shooting a web and swinging off towards the danger.
Peter stops four muggings, one attempted pickpocket, and two armed robberies. He’s walking along a rooftop edge deciding wether or not to head home when his Spidey-sense starts to ring numbly in the back of his head. He turns and crouches down but finds an empty- no, not an empty rooftop. A figure consumed in the shadows by the door, trying to hide but unsuccessfully evading Peter’s senses.
“Wow. I heard you were good but that’s just scary impressive,” the figure speaks, a man. Peter doesn’t recognize his voice and it only triggers his nerves.
“Who are you?” He calls out, eyes narrowing to try and peer into the darkness. “Not a threat. Well, to you at least.” Peter shifts as the man steps forward, letting the artificial street light bathe over his black and red kevlar suit. The twin pistols strapped to either of the stranger’s thighs catch Peter’s attention, along with the double katanas sheathed on his back. His mask almost matched Spider-Man’s, the white eyes surrounded by a black outline over a red base are too similar for the hero’s liking. “I’d mistake you for a fan, if not for the arsenal you’re carrying,” Peter speaks casually but his senses are going haywire.
The man chuckles and steps closer “not a mistake Webs. I’m definitely a fan,” he sounds almost giddy, it’s off putting to Peter, “although the suit is completely my own design, nothing but pure coincidence here.” Peter offers a short and hollow laugh at the comment, clenching his fists when the man steps even closer. “I’ve been watching you for a while now. I know they say not to meet your heroes but I just couldn’t resist. The name is Deadpool by the way-”
He takes one step too close and Peter leaps up. A web is shot and looped around the stranger’s legs until he tumbles onto his back with Spider-Man crouched over his chest. “Sorry big guy, not even fans get a pass for that much fire power,” Peter hums out as he examines the belt around the man’s waist. He finds a few grenades, a knife, some sort of darts, and a packet of weed. Typical.
“Awe come on baby boy, I was hoping for a more magical meeting,” Deadpool huffs out. Peter eyes him suspiciously “baby boy? What’s with the names?” He questions. “Cutie like you deserves a good nickname, don’t ya think?” The Spider-Man mask hides any blush that may have rushed to Peter’s face as he stands up and walks towards the ledge. “Just stay there till the police arrive, I’ve got stuff to do.” The silence that follows makes Peter hesitate and turn back, only to find Deadpool gone and only a paper in his place.
The note reads:Catch you later Spidey! Hopefully we can have some more fun tomorrow night ;)
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Thus began the ever present nuisance in Peter’s life that is Deadpool. A bit of research that night was all it took for Peter to find the man, a mercenary and a damn good one at that. Identity unknown, kill count much too high for Peter’s liking, and no listed connections. He would appear each night during Spider-Man’s patrols, sometimes on rooftops and sometimes during fights to help out. Although he seemed rather peeved by Peter’s insistence on stopping him from killing anyone. After a week of Peter webbing up his guns, Deadpool made a swear to switch to rubber bullets. He also started to treat Peter like an old friend that he was just catching up with, it confused the hero.
Peter would entertain the merc but never really let his guard down or talked about himself, at least until Deadpool greeted him with a bag full of Mexican food and an offer to ‘just chat’.
“How is it that you talk more to muggers than to me?” Deadpool questions as he takes a large bite of a taco. Spider-Man shrugs and stares at the burrito in his hand, his spider sense isn’t going off but the idea of trusting the murderer next to him is insane. “I can look away if you’re shy, baby boy, although I don’t think you can compete much with my mug,” the words pull Peter from his thoughts as he glances at the lower half of Deadpool’s face, scars covering every inch of skin. “Don’t say that. Everyone is different but we’re all beautiful in our own way,” he mumbles out before pushing his own mask up to his nose and taking a bite of the food. The mercenary just stares at him for a moment before smiling “knew you were a cutie,” he scoffs in amusement.
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Eating together after patrol becomes a routine for the two and Peter can feel himself growing comfortable around the man. He jokes and laughs around him, even catches himself sitting closer and just watching him fight sometimes. It’s…nice. Having someone to work with, not being alone on patrol and knowing someone is watching his back. Although the constant pet names and flirting can get on his nerves, Peter just ignores it and brushes off the comments about his ass.
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One month after they started teaming up Deadpool took a bullet to the chest and Peter spent the better part of an hour on a rooftop, holding the merc’s lifeless body in his arms, unable to will his legs to work. When Deadpool suddenly began to shift and wake up, Peter couldn’t help but sob against the man’s chest and curse him out. Not his proudest moment. But it’s what pushed Deadpool to tug off his mask and introduce himself as Wade Wilson, apparently an unkillable man.
They were only closer after that, many late nights in Wade’s apartment with video games and junk food proved that much. Although Peter made Wade swear not to die in front of him anymore, it really couldn’t be helped.
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Now, two months after their meeting and one month after Wade’s reveal, Deadpool has died again.
“Pool!” Peter shouts, fist colliding with some bad guy's jaw before he rushes to the mercenary. “Hey! Hey- Wade?” He ignores the pit in his stomach as he hauls Wade onto his shoulder and swings off to his own apartment. He’s never taken Wade here but the panic in his brain is mushing his thoughts and he doesn’t know what to do. He knows Wade will wake up but what if this is the time he doesn’t? What if he stays so terribly limp in Peter’s arms and the blood continues to soak into his Spider-Man suit?
Peter stumbles in the window and drops Wade onto the old couch “Wade? C’mon ‘pool you need to wake up now,” he breathes out as he tugs off the merc’s mask. Peter can feel tears pooling behind his mask as he leans his head on Wade’s chest and waits, nothing else he can do now. Peter waits and listens for an hour, unmoving from his spot on the floor until he hears a faint thump in Wade’s chest. Peter pushes his ear closer and holds his breath until he hears a second thump, then a third, and then a continuous rhythm as Wade’s heart starts beating again.
When the merc starts to shift around and then sits up, Peter wastes no time in rushing up to engulf the man in a hug. Wade sits still, a bit dazed as he processes the fact that Spider-man is on his lap and hugging him. “If you ever do that again I will punch you so hard, you’ll wish you stayed dead,” Peter grumbles out, but the quiver in his voice melts away any threat.
The pieces start to fit together and Wade understands what’s happening, what Peter just went through, and how much trouble he’s in. “I’m guessing takeout won’t make you forgive me?” He hums out as his arms wrap around the webbed hero. Peter doesn’t answer, too focused on burying his masked face against Wade’s neck and trying to hold in his sobs. “None of that baby boy, I’m okay. Look at me.”
He pulls back enough to look at Wade, all his scars and flaws unapologetically laid out for Peter to gaze upon. For a moment Peter wants to pull away but something draws him in until he’s tugging off his own mask and pushing his lips against the merc’s.
Wade grunts in surprise but quickly reciprocates with fervor. The two begin to melt together as Peter wraps his arms around Wade’s neck and parts his lips, allowing a tongue to slip into his mouth. Muffled groans begin to fill the small apartment as Wade tugs on Peter’s hips, guiding the hero into grinding against his lap. Peter’s hand slips down and starts to tug at Wade’s belt until he suddenly pulls away and looks to the right, alerted by something Wade doesn’t sense.
When the mercenary follows Peter’s gaze and spots the mouth of a pistol aimed directly at him he huffs out a small laugh. Peter looks more angry than surprised “I told you to use the front door Frank,” he grumbles out at the man. Frank grunts at that and steps closer,
“And I told you to stay out of trouble kid, but you’ve got a goddamn mercenary in your shithole apartment.” Peter glances at Wade and hesitates “that’s none of your business, put the gun down.”
“Like hell it isn’t my business. Whether you care or not, I want to keep your ass alive!” Frank raises his voice enough for Peter to stand up. Wade hums and leans back “I have no intention of hurting my baby boy,” he offers. But Frank only clicks the safety off his gun “I’m gonna shoot this asshole,” he growls out. Peter steps in front of Wade with his hands up “are you kidding me?! You can’t just shoot him because you don’t like him!”
Frank clicks his tongue and motions for Peter to move “yes I fuckin’ can. You have no idea what you’re doing here Pete.” That seems to annoy Peter as he scoffs at the man “I know exactly what I’m doing Frank! I’m an adult and I make my own choices. They may be stupid choices but they are mine,” the words seem to sink in as Frank lowers his gun. “Wade isn’t going to hurt me and it isn’t any of your business what I do with him,” Peter explains firmly.
Frank glares at Wade but holsters his gun “if I find out that you lay one hand on him, I will find you,” he huffs out. Wade grins as he stands up and places a hand on Peter’s waist, reveling in how Frank angers at that, “oh don’t worry, my hands will be nothing but gentle when they lay on Peter.” The tension rises until Peter shoves Wade back onto the couch and spends a few minutes helping Frank with the information he came by for. When Frank leaves he gives Wade a look and mumbles something to Peter.
“Who was that bundle of joy?” Wade asks once the man is finally gone. “Frank castle, just a friend of sorts,” Peter sighs out as he returns to the couch and lays his legs over Wade’s lap “He’s been a bit protective ever since I got out of the hospital.” Wade nods and cups Peter’s face “I stopped listening after you said Frank. I can’t help but get distracted by your beauty.”
Peter rolls his eyes and presses his hand against the merc’s chest “are you going to just stare at me, or are you going to keep kissing me?” The question is answered with Wade leaning forward to continue exploring all of Peter and more.