Wade's Boxes: White/Yellow
“This shit is Bananas,” Wade curses as he fiddles with the lock of the second-floor window he is currently trying to break into. Trouble is, his left hand was blasted off by some thug getting a little too kill happy with a shotgun. That had only happened less than thirty minutes ago, so right now his hand was about the size of a nine-month old’s and being less than helpful with stealthily breaking into the closest house he could find while he healed up.
I can’t believe you let those guys get the jump on us! We should have seen them coming from miles away!
“I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t really expecting to deal with an attempted murder on me when I’m shopping at midnight for ingredients for a bacon and ice-cream lasagna. Besides, I’m wonderful. Who’d want to kill me?” Even worse, most grocery shops didn’t take too kindly to his usual getup, so he was dressed in a hoodie and jeans that could only inconspicuously hide two hand guns and a pocket knife.
Maybe the mob boss whose father you beheaded last week? I told you we should have charged more.
“I told them it wasn’t personal! Now shush both of you, I need to concentrate.” He really would like to get inside before he passes out from blood loss and actually wake up indoors instead of on the dirty New York streets. With any luck, he’ll pass out and wake back up before the family that lives here finds him and calls the cops.
“B.A.N.A.N.A-YES!” Wade whisper-shouts as he finally manages to break the lock on the window. He falls through the newly opened window and lays on the ground. As his vision slowly fades to blackness he thinks he hears a surprised squeal coming from inside the room.
Wade wakes up to the feeling of something sharp and hard jabbing him in the side, and not in the good way either. His whole body shudders as it comes to, feeling fully recovered. He opens his eyes to find himself face to face with a scrawny kid. Wide brown eyes stare back at him for about two seconds before the boy is scrambling away from him.
Wade looks around the dimly lit room, the boy must have turned on the lamp by computer while he was out. Wade had apparently fallen right into his bedroom, judging from the unmade bed pressed against the wall beside where he landed. The room is cramped and messy, clothes all over the place and chemistry posters taped crookedly to the wall. He has a worn desk with a computer that looks to be from the nineties on it and a bookshelf that is leaning dangerously to the left.
The kid himself is pressed back against the bookshelf. He has a messy mop of brown hair on his head and thick square glasses guarding his eyes. He’s wearing a green shirt with a red Mario hat on the front, basketball shorts and socks that go up to his knees. He presses back even further against the bookshelf when Wade moves to sit up.
“I’m armed!” The boy warns, waving the broom handle at him.
Look at him! So tiny, so vicious! He’s adorable.
He’s pathetic. Kill him and put him out of his misery.
“Shut up, both of you.” Wade growls. The boy’s look of terror turns into one of confusion. He looks around the room as if he’s trying to find something.
“Have you already called the cops?” Wade asks, trying to calculate how much longer he has until he needs to make a break for it.
“No.” The boy says and then grimaces. “I mean yes, they’re on their way as we speak!”
“I don’t believe you.” Wade sings, waving his pointer finger at him. The boy visibly deflates.
“You shouldn’t.” The boy sighs. “I was going to but then I saw all the blood coming from your stomach and I had to puke first. And then when I came back you were healed.” His eyes flicker up to his face and then back down again. “Well, mostly healed.”
Wade’s hand flies up to his face, touching the scarred skin there.
Oh yeah, we are minus the mask today. Wonder why he hasn’t run away screaming yet?
He’s an idiot obviously.
“A face not even a mother could love, right?” Wade laughs bitterly. “I’m gonna apologize in advance for the nightmares you’ll have after this.”
“It’s not that bad,” The boy scoffs. “I’m more concerned about why you broke into my window at-” The color drains from his face. “Oh crap, what time is it?!” He says scrambling over and grabbing the alarm clock from his dresser. He relaxes, letting out a long sigh after he reads it.
“Phew, it’s only one-thirty. I still have a couple hours, then.”
“Until what? Wait, wait, wait! Are you a werewolf?” Wade asks excitedly.
“What? No I’m not a werewolf jeebus, that doesn’t even make sense. It’s my sixteenth birthday today, and I was born at exactly three thirty-four A.M so I can finally see what my Soul Mark is going to be!” He grins up at Wade excitedly.
Oh right, Soul Marks. The constant reminder that some poor person is destined to spend their life with him. Wade remembers being excited when he first saw his, a grey and black spider web painted across his left breast.
The mark would always appear on the person’s sixteenth birthday, at the exact time they were born. It was like the universe was giving you a hint of who you should belong with before you met them. Sometimes it was more obvious or sometimes it was like Wade’s, who spent years wondering if his mate was some sort of bug specialist.
When he was young and naïve, he used to daydream about the day when he would finally meet his person. Someone who was designed to love him, someone who’d be interested in what he had to say instead of wanting him to shut up so they could hear the television. Someone who’d protect him.
Then the cancer and the experiments happened and Wade lost interest. He knew he’d never find out who his partner was. Because, even though the marks started out in shades of black and grey, the moment you have skin on skin contact with your partner they change, coloring themselves in to reveal your actual soul mate. And no one in their right mind would touch Wade the way he is now. He tended to avoid looking at himself as much as possible so he forgot it was there most of the time.
“So what? You’re staying up for the big reveal?”
“Yup!” The boy chirps. “I hope it’s something cool. Like, a science beaker or maybe a molecule. Then we could talk science and stuff. Ohmygosh, you’re pretty old right? Like thirty or something? You have your mark, have you met your Soulmate yet?”
“More like twenty-five, but thank you, I’m flattered. And I haven’t.” Wade shrugs nonchalantly, feeling for maybe the first time in his life uncomfortable with the conversation at hand.
“Well what’s your mark look like then? Can I see it?” The kid asks, already reaching his hand out toward Wade.
“NO!” Wade shouts and immediately feels guilty when the boy flinches back against the bookshelf hard enough to knock several books on the floor. The silence that follows is awkward, Wade is tempted to stab himself in the head just so he can escape it but he doubts the kid would appreciate that very much.
“Aren’t you worried I’m going to like rob or kill you or something?” Wade asks.
“Not really, I mean I was at first but all the blood distracted me and, I mean, you haven’t tried to do either of those things yet so I’m assuming it’s something else.” His eyes widen and Wade can see a lightbulb flickering on above his head. “You’re one of those superheroes aren’t you? That’s why you were injured, and you came here because you needed a place to lay low while you used your healing powers!”
Oh. My. God. He’s precious!
I’m still voting we kill him.
“Uh yes?” Wade says.
“I knew it!” The boy shouts, pumping his fist. “That is so cool.”
“Sure is. Speaking of, I’d better get back to uh, patrolling and whatnot…” Wade trails off as he stands up, heading towards the window. He’s halfway out before he feels a small tug on his sleeve, the kid snatches his hand back once Wade turns back toward him.
“Can you stay please? I don’t really want to be alone when it happens.” Wade takes one look at those pleading brown eyes and feels himself cave in.
“Dammit,” Wade mutters. “Aren’t your parents home?” He asks even though he’s already crawling back into the room.
“Oh, they umm…My aunt is visiting a friend in Chicago and my uncle works nights.” He tugs on his messy hair awkwardly and avoids Wade’s eyes.
“Oh.” For once, Wade and the boxes are all speechless.
“Yeah so, we could uh,” The kid looks around the room. “I have the modulator for Mario Kart downloaded on my computer if you want to-Oh wait sorry you’re probably too old for-“ He cuts off as Wade squeals. “I LOVE MARIO KART!”
“Oh,” The boy blinks surprised, watching as Wade settles himself on the floor in front of the computer.
“You better let me be Princess Peach.” Wade warns waggling a finger at him. He gets an eyeroll in response as the kid walks over to set the game up.
“That’s fine, I like being Toad anyway.”
Wade’s not sure how long they spend racing each other before the boy nods off mid-race. Controller slipping from his hands as Toad drives straight into a pool of hot lava. Wade manages to catch him before he face-plants into the ground, thankful he’s wearing gloves so his mangled skin isn’t actually touching the boy’s as he lifts him up to maneuver him onto the bed.
Wade shuts off his computer and turns off his lamp, before leaving back through the window. He’s almost back to his home before realizes that he never got the kid’s name.
We can just get it next time!
Yeah and after he tells us, we can kill him?
But there never is a next time. Because the very next day, Wade accepts a job that takes him out of the country, where he gets shot in the head by his target, an emo prick with a metal arm and killer aim. When his brain grows back he forgets he ever even met the kid.
“Maybe he’s a lawyer.” Gwen states out of the blue. She’s laying on her stomach on his bed, flipping through an old National Geographic magazine she found on his bookshelf.
“Who’s a lawyer?” Peter asks, frowning at his best friend.
“Your soulmate,” Gwen says simply, not taking her eyes off whatever article has caught her interest. “You’re touching your chest again.” Peter glances down and notices to his embarrassment that she’s right. While he was concentrating on editing the new Spiderman picture he took last night on patrol, his right hand had been tracing the shape over the left side of his chest.
He had woken up on the morning of his sixteenth birthday, after an incredibly strange dream about a burglar, with his mark; two katanas crossed in an X right over his heart. He had been hoping his mark would be an obvious clue as to who he belonged with, but unless his partner was a samurai training in Asia, he was screwed.
“Where did you get lawyer?”
“You know,” Gwen says, gesturing vaguely at his chest. “They’d use their words like swords to cut through opponent’s arguments.” It makes Peter think of Daredevil, whose secret identity Peter had very recently discovered, and he feels his ears get hot.
“Yeah, could be.” He says doubtfully. He only just turned eighteen, so logically he knows he still has plenty of time to find them, but he’s felt impatient, almost jittery since he got his mark. He had read stories about people feeling a strange sort of energy flowing through them once they started getting close to the moment where they met the one. But after two years of feeling like this, Peter was starting to think maybe the energy thing was bull-honky.
He gives up on editing the picture, too distracted to make any real progress and turns back to Gwen. He catches her staring at a random spot on his wall, a far off look in her eyes as she touches the spot on her chest where her soul mark is. Peter feels guilt wash over him. When Gwen had received her mark, it had been outlined in white, a sign that meant she wouldn’t meet her soulmate in this lifetime.
“Crap, Gwen I’m sorry.”
“Hmm?” She blinks and looks over at him, dropping her hand back on the bed when she catches Peter watching her. “Stop giving me that look, Peter Parker. I get enough of that from my mother. You know I’m perfectly happy with M.J. and I’m not going to let something like fate or whatever you want to call it take that away from me.”
Peter grins at her, pride swelling in his chest at his feisty, genius best friend. After she had discovered that Harry was the Green Goblin, M.J had decided that she was one of the rare few who were better off without their soulmate. His two closest friends, who initially didn’t like each other very much, bonded over the loss of their soulmates and had been dating ever since.
“Speaking of,” Peter glances back at the time on his laptop. “Don’t you need to be meeting her, like right now?” Gwen blanches when she checks the time on her phone, hopping up off the bed and planting a quick kiss on Peter’s forehead.
“Stay safe tonight!” Gwen calls behind her as she rushes out the door. Peter laughs shaking his head at his friend.
Several hours later, Peter finds himself sitting on a random rooftop, legs swinging over the edge as he contemplates calling it an early night. His spidey-sense had been acting strange all evening, providing him with a dull but distracting tingle ever since he put on his costume. But, other than a drunken brawl and an attempted car thief, the night had been pretty slow.
He stands and has his arm out, ready to shoot a web, when his sense causes a sudden shudder to run through his whole body, and then he hears the scream. Moving fast, he leaps from the building and swings toward the voice.
The sound leads him to a dark alleyway, which is pretty much the usual place for a scream of terror to be coming from. He’s prepared to rush in and stop whatever horrible thing is going on but, once he takes in the scene he finds himself hesitating.
There’s a man lying on the ground, with a disturbing amount of blood coming out of a wound in his side. He’s desperately trying to crawl away from his attacker, but doesn’t look like he’ll make it very far. The gore isn’t what makes Peter stop in tracks though, it’s the attacker. He’s dressed in a red and black costume, complete with two katanas on his back…crossed to form an X just like the one over Peter’s heart.
Peter snaps out of his daze when the man pulls one of the katanas out of the sheath as he advances on the injured man, it’s blade is stained red.
“Wait!” He cries, shooting webbing at the man’s feet. The man looks down at where his left foot is now stuck to the concrete.
“Okay, that’s so gross. Like, here I am just minding my own business, committing homicide and you gotta do me this way.” The man says in a raspy voice before turning towards Peter. “How am I even going to wash this-SPIDERMAN?!” Peter winces at the man’s screech.
“Holy crap! If I’d have known I’d be meeting you tonight I would have worn the dress instead!” He coos, clasping his hands together.
There is no way in hell this is my soulmate. Peter thinks to himself, shaking his head at the man.
“Who are you?” He demands, using his best Intimidating Spiderman voice.
“I’m Deadpool, at your service!” He says, giving Peter a salute. “Now, if you don’t mind letting my poor little tootsie go, I have a job to do and I’m not paid by the hour, ya feel?”
So this is the infamous Deadpool. The one both Tony and Steve had warned him about countless times. He certainly didn’t seem as much of a threat as they made him out to be.
“I can’t let you kill him.” Peter watches as Deadpool goes almost unnaturally still, the only movement coming from when he tilts his head at Peter. The odd tingling his spidey-sense has been making all night gets even worse as Peter tries not to shudder under the heavy weight of Deadpool’s gaze.
“Sure you can,” Deadpool singsongs, but it’s not in the high-pitched raspy voice he was using before. This time his voice is deeper and it makes the hair on Peter’s arms stand up. This was probably what the Avengers were warning him about.
“I really can’t.” Peter insists lowering himself into a crouch, knowing things are about to get pretty ugly.
Before he can even react, Deadpool uses his free hand to draw a gun from his holster and shoots behind him without even looking away from Peter. The man on the ground screams as the bullet hits the concrete right in front of him, where he had still been trying to crawl away.
Peter shoots a web and yanks the gun out of Deadpool’s grip, catching in a tossing it in the dumpster beside him. In the time it takes him to do that, Deadpool has cut himself free of the webbing surrounding his foot.
“Look Webberoni, I don’t want to fight you but you have no idea how many chimichangas I’m going to be able to buy just from killing him. Would it make you feel better knowing that he’s been dealing to kids? Apparently, he got a minor with a very wealthy daddy hooked on heroine. Daddy didn’t like that very much.”
“I’d feel better knowing he was in jail, serving time for the crimes he committed.” He strangely doesn’t want to fight either, not that he’s going to let Deadpool just kill the guy, but he’d rather they found a way to resolve this peacefully. Maybe it’s the katanas, reminding him that he has a soulmate somewhere out there and he’d like to have all of his limbs intact when they meet.
“But what about the chimichangas?” Deadpool whines, stomping his foot. It gives Peter an idea.
“If you let me call the cops and have him arrested, I’ll buy you chimichangas.” Peter blurts, almost instantly regretting the offer when Deadpool seems to perk up. But, if it saves a life and keeps all of his limbs in place then it might be worth it. “Maybe not all of them at once, but like slowly over time…if you continue to be good.”
“I can be good.” Deadpool nods, and puts away his katana.
“Wait, really?” Peter asks.
“Really?” The guy on the ground asks. Both Deadpool and Spiderman ignore him.
“Yeah,” Deadpool shrugs. “I mean the only reason I was doing it was for junk food money so if you’re taking care of that then there’s no reason for me to kill him.”
“Okay that’s uh, not how I was expecting this to go down, but it’s cool.” Peter says getting his phone out to call the police and leave an anonymous tip. Deadpool pulls some rope from a pouch that seems way too small for it to fit in and hogties the criminal, who seems to be shocked into silence.
“So, how many chimichangas are we talking about here? Like if we meet like once a week and I bring you two of them, how long would we have to do that?” Deadpool hums, thinking.
“If we meet once a week and you bring me four chimichangas,” Deadpool corrects. “AND you hang out with me while I eat them…maybe a year?” Peter is glad the mask covers the look of horror that appears on his face.
‘A whole freakin year of meeting up with this guy? Peter thinks. Maybe he should’ve just let- No, no Peter Benjamin Parker you were raised better than that.’
“Okay, but since we’re hanging out while I’m supposed to be patrolling, if there’s a crime you have to help.” Peter insists. Deadpool literally jumps up and down.
“You mean we’d be like teammates?! Oh man, that is so much cooler than murder!”
“I’m glad you think so,” Peter says and then hesitates. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that his mark and Deadpool’s weapon were the exact same. Only one way to find out.
He walks up to Deadpool, ignoring the way he seems to tense as Peter reaches out to touch him.
“It’s a deal then,” Peter says, hesitating just for a moment more before placing his gloved hand on Deadpool’s shoulder. Nothing happens, he gets no flash of heat or moment of clarity as he awkwardly pats Deadpool’s shoulder. He can’t tell if the feeling immerging in his chest is disappointment or relief.
Deadpool reaches up and takes Peter’s hand in his, turning on his heel and marching them out of the alley.
“And what better time to start than tonight!”
It takes Wade about three months to start feeling guilty for essentially forcing Spiderman to be his friend. Usually something like that would have taken much longer, but Spidey is different from others. He can keep up with Wade’s references and, other than during the first few times of they hung out, he never seemed annoyed by Wade’s talking.
You’re being selfish. Poor kid is only hanging out with you because he has to. You shouldn’t keep torturing him this way.
He’s started coming over to our apartment after patrol. That wasn’t part of the deal. Maybe we’ve grown on him?!
Not for the first time, Wade thinks about the mark covering the left side of his chest. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that his mark would be so similar to Spiderman’s weapon of choice, yet Spidey himself wasn’t his mate. He double-checked every time they hung out though, just to make sure.
Not once did Wade forget to touch Spidey in some way when he saw him. Sometimes it was a simple high-five, but most of the time he checked by slapping Spidey on that glorious ass. Spidey had even stopped trying to punch him afterword, he must like it more than he let on. And, as amazing experience as that was, Wade couldn’t help feeling disappointed every time they made contact and his mark didn’t light up.
It’s for the best. Can’t imagine how’d he’d react if he knew he was stuck with us for the rest of his life.
Spidey is too good for us.
“First sign of the apocalypse,” Wade mutters to himself, “All three of us agree.”
He’s interrupted from that depressing train of thought by a light tapping on his window. Excited, he jumps up where he was laying on his living room floor(his most favorite napping spot), and, in his rush to open the window, he tears the blinds from their holder so they clatter to the floor.
“Santa you finally came!” He exclaims as he finally yanks the window open.
“Okay one: It’s the middle of summer and Santa is much too busy making toys to visit kids this time of year, Wade you know this.” Spidey sighs, crawling through the window without being invited in. He manages to still be graceful even though he’s carrying a few full grocery bags filled with what Wade desperately hopes is junk food. “And, two: I think I’m a little offended because I’m pretty sure that was a fat joke.”
“The only thing fat on you is Dat Ass.” Wade says, making grabby hands at said booty, hoping to sneak a grope in while Spidey’s hands are full. Spidey dances around him with a laugh and marches his way into Wade’s kitchen with an ease that showed just how often he had been showing up at Wade’s place.
The first time Spidey had accepted Wade’s invitation to come over, he was badly injured from a fun encounter with Venom about a month after their little deal began. Their fight had taken place in an abandoned building right across the street from Wade’s apartment and, when he heard all the commotion, he naturally had to go check it out.
Once he got into the building and saw the vicious beating his Spidey was taking, Wade was filled with a quiet rage he had felt only a few times in his life. By the end of his involvement, he was sure Venom knew the only reason he was still alive was because of Spiderman’s presence. Once Venom ran away like the coward he was, Wade had taken Spidey back to his place and patched him up, watching over him in a totally non-creepy way when he passed out.
Afterword their relationship had changed, Spiderman seemed more relaxed around Wade, even joking around with him. The simple fact that Wade had both taken care of his Spider when he was vulnerable and not taken the opportunity to take off his mask when he was unconscious seemed to go a long way with Spidey.
Hold up…is he actually in our kitchen right now, making food?!
He’s trying to poison us now that he has our guard down.
No he’s too smart for that. He knows we can’t die.
Hallucination? We are insane.
“Probably,” Wade mutters, leaning against the doorway watching Spidey work. He had taken off his gloves and boots at some point, but not his mask, never the mask. Wade has never been more glad for his own habit of constantly being in costume, even in his own home. Spidey looks over his shoulder at the sound of Wade’s voice.
“What are the boxes saying now?” He asks.
“Trying to decide why there’s a beautiful baby boy in my kitchen cooking food. White thinks I’m hallucinating, which makes sense because you are one sexy wardrobe change from this being a fantasy I’ve had pretty frequently.” Spidey ducks his head in what Wade has picked up on as a telltale sign that he’s blushing. Wade pumps his fist in the air.
“It’s not a hallucination, you weirdo. I’m really cooking for you and I really brought cake because it’s a special occasion.” Spidey says, waving a cooking knife at him.
“Special occasion? Wait, are you gonna propose to me? Ohmygosh, where are my tissues?” Wade gasps, placing a hand over his heart.
“No, jeebus, Wade did you forget your own birthday?” Spidey says, shaking his head at him before turning back to chopping vegetables.
“…How’d you know it was my birthday?”
“You only told me like sixty times last week.” And, okay maybe he did, he tends to ramble a lot so he doesn’t even remember half of what he said, but still…
He remembered our birthday.
He remembered our birthday.
“He remembered our birthday…” Wade breathes staring at Spidey in awe.
“He is right here and, like I said, you only told me like a hundred times last week. So, I’m making us some fajitas, I bought a cake from that bakery you like down the street, and after we eat we are going to spend the rest of the evening playing Borderlands. I’ll even let you be the Siren since it’s your special day.”
Wade tries to think of something to say but he ends up just standing there staring at Spidey with his mouth hanging open.
Later on that night, after they’ve given up playing video games and are in the middle of a B-Horror movie marathon, Wade glances over at Spidey. He’s laying of his side, taking up most of the couch and has his feet propped up on Wade’s lap. Wade had begun absentmindedly rubbing one of his socked feet during the opening credits.
“You don’t have to do this.” Wade says suddenly.
“Hmm?” Spidey asks, still focused on the movie. He nudges Wade’s thigh with his foot because he had stopped massaging him.
“You coming here, hanging out with me on my birthday. It wasn’t part of the deal.” Wade clarifies, keeping his eyes focused on the T.V to avoid looking at Spidey. He can still see Spidey moving out of the corner of his eye though, sitting up and shooting over so he’s right next to Wade, their thighs pressed up against each other.
“I didn’t do this because of the deal.” He says, sighing when Wade won’t look at him. “I haven’t actually thought much about the deal in a long time. I just like being around you.” Wade does turn to him then, wishing he could see Spidey’s facial expression behind his mask.
“The food, video games, and hanging out was because…” Wade trails off, still having a hard time processing.
“I did all that because I like you, you dummy.”
It takes Peter six months after their deal to realize he has a crush on Wade, then another month of some heavy denial before he comes to accept it. And now, for the first time in his life he finds himself not wanting to find his soulmate.
Because he knows it’s not Wade. No matter how much casual, purely platonic, touching happened when they hung out, his mark remained black and white. That didn’t seem to affect how hard his heart would start beating at the slightest touch from Wade, something he should long be used to by now.
Peter finds himself more than a little relieved that Wade doesn’t seem enthused to find his soulmate either. Every time Peter brings up the subject, Wade dances around it or tells Peter that ‘It’s rude to ask a lady about her marks’.
He’s jealous of this stranger he’s never met before. The person who is destined to be with Wade for eternity, who gets to hear Wade’s jokes and listen to the constant, annoyingly wonderful, nonsense that’s always spilling out of his mouth. He’s had too many restless nights recently asking the silent universe why that person couldn’t be him.
He had recently started flirting back with Wade, and the results were better than expected. The first time it happened, the two were grabbing some hot chocolate mid patrol because it was a slow, chilly night. He didn’t remember what they were talking about, just that Wade had called him baby boy, as usual.
“If you keep calling me baby boy, does that mean I should start calling you daddy?” Peter had asked, fighting to keep the smirk off his face when Wade froze, looking at him with his mouth open. Then, he promptly dumped his steaming hot chocolate onto his own lap.
“Sorry,” He shrugged in response to Peter’s shocked cry. “That boner was not going away anytime soon.”
His phone buzzes one Tuesday evening while he’s having his weekly food date with Wade.
“It’s the Avengers,” He informs Wade. “There’s an emergency three miles south of here, we have to go help out.”
“Woo! A team-up with the Avengers, I’m a real hero now!” Wade says, jumping up and down.
“You were a hero the moment you decided to stop killing and start saving people in trouble,” Peter says. He turns his back to Wade and crouches down. “Now, do you want a piggy back or not?”
Wade squeals instead of giving an actual answer and leaps on to Peter’s back. Peter’s thankful for his super strength allowing him to easily support Wade’s weight. He swings them from building to building, trying to ignore the way Wade’s body is pressed against him as he listens to Wade’s excited chatter in his ear.
Peter receives various reactions to showing up with Wade on his back, from Iron Man’s loud exasperated sigh to Clint’s “You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re supposed to be saving the city not wrecking it further!”
Peter ignores them, making his way over to Captain America. He knows the team has been keeping tabs on him so he’s not sure why they are even surprised, Deadpool is nearly a constant presence with him at this point. The media had been having a field day with their new partnership.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to involve Deadpool in this, son?” Peter hates the way Steve’s disappointment in him makes him feel but he hates how quiet Wade became after Clint’s comment even more.
“Deadpool came to help out,” He says, gesturing at the chaos going on below the rooftop they had agreed to meet on. “And it looks like you could use all the help you could get.”
The captain remains silent, looking Wade over contemplatively. Wade shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny, which is weird because Peter didn’t know Wade could even feel uncomfortable, but then again, he has said before that the Captain is one of his heroes.
“Alright Cap, we really don’t have time for this,” Tony says coming to stand beside them. “If the Spider-Child trusts him then we are going to have to too.” Peter feels something warm swell in his chest at Tony’s words, that was about as close to a compliment as the man could give.
The team begrudgingly accepts Wade’s assistance and together they fight off the Alien Invaders of the Week. Peter watches, as much as he can while he’s fighting, with a swell of pride as Wade adapts easily to fight perfectly in sync with whichever Avenger is next to him at the time.
This particular type of Alien species was definitely not as intelligent or durable as the creatures that the team had fought before. They did however breathe fire, which was pretty annoying in Peter’s opinion. The fight didn’t last very long but by the end of it, Peter’s costume was halfway burned off and he was showing an embarrassing amount of skin. Apparently, his fire resistant suit wasn’t an alien fire resistant suit. Thankfully, his mask and most of his leggings are still intact.
At the Captain’s orders, Peter swings his way to meet back up with the team once the fight was over. Most of their suits were in similar states of disarray. Natasha has Thor’s cape wrapped around her like a robe and a look on her face that promised death to whoever commented on her new outfit.
“Excellent work everyone, we managed to eliminate the threat and cause minimal damage to the- “
“Where’s Wade?” Peter asks suddenly. He tries not to feel frustrated at the blank looks the rest of the team give him.
“Marco!” A scratchy voice calls from somewhere to Peter’s left.
“Polo!” Peter calls, heading in that direction. It takes Wade calling Marco two more times for Peter to find him, lying on ground, his lower half pinned beneath an overturned car.
Peter quickly moves it off him and proceeds to watch in a type of morbid fascination as Wade’s legs snap back into place. Wade’s costume is in the same shape as the rest of the team, so Peter can see the scars and ridges decorating Wade’s skin. Its the first time he’s seen so much of it at once because, unless Wade rolled the bottom of his mask up to eat, he’s always completely covered.
Peter looks away as Wade finishes healing, he knows even with his mask on that Wade would be able to tell there is pity on Peter’s gaze and he’d hate that.
“Hey Spidey-Butt, the gross stuff is all over now, mind giving a friend a hand?” Peter looks back over to see Wade still on the ground but definitely less mangled now, waggling a gloveless hand up at him. Peter makes his way over to him smiling at how silly Wade looks.
“You know you’re completely helpless without m-” He cuts off with a gasp as his hand clasps Wade’s. As soon as their bare skin touched, a flash of heat shot up his arm and went directly into his heart. Peter, whose eyes had closed at the not painful but intense sensation, opens them again when he hears a low whining noise. The noise is coming from Wade, who’s one hand is gripping Peter’s with crushing force and grabbing at his chest with the other.
In an instant, the heat on his chest goes from tolerable to painful and Peter uses his free hand to rip off the shredded remains of the top half of his costume. It’s a struggle because his other hand can’t seem to let go of Wade’s.
The heat is coming from the mark on his chest, which is now shining proudly with it’s new shades of red and silver to decorate it. Peter slowly sinks to his knees next to Wade, who hasn’t stopped making the whining noise. The heat thankfully has receded for the most part now that the mark has colored itself in.
“Wade,” Peter breathes in awe, staring at his mark. He had been so stupid. Skin on skin contact was how a person found their soulmate. And the two of them had never been out of costume together. He looks back up at Wade, the smiling that had been forming of his face dropping when he notices the way Wade is looking at him, or rather his mark.
Wade’s face is twisted up in a grimace, his mouth, showing through a rip in his mask is set in a hard frown.
“Does it still hurt?” Peter asks, reaching with his free hand towards Wade’s chest. Wade flinches back from him, dropping his hand. Peter’s fingers tingle as the blood starts flowing through them again.
“Hey, it’s okay, in fact more than ok. I think we’re soul-”
“No,” Wade’s moan cuts Peter off. He watches in disbelief as Wade starts shaking his head back and forth, never taking his eyes off Peter’s chest.
“Wade, c’mon buddy, you gotta use your words.” Peter laughs nervously, a tornado of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. “It’s not all that bad…is it?”
Wade leaps away from him, fumbling with something in his belt. Peter realizes what he’s doing too late, reaching out with a shout. His fingers touch the air where Wade had vanished, using his teleporter to escape.
Peter remains frozen in place even after he hears the whispers of the rest of the Avengers start behind him, no doubt having witnessed the whole thing. He barely registers when Tony comes to stand beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt at comfort.
It doesn’t help though, because Wade, his best friend, crush, and soulmate had just rejected him.
Wade attempts to remove the mark thirty-two times before he gives up. He tries everything from skinning the area to pouring acid that he found in a secret lab over it. While both attempts had been incredibly painful, the mark returned with its new shades of deep blue and red each time.
It’s been a month since he’s last seen Spidey. His shocked voice as he said Wade’s name still echoed in his ear. Wade hadn’t heard much after that, his own heart beat too loud in his ears for him to make out what Spidey was saying. It was just as well though, he didn’t want to hear Spidey’s reaction to realizing they were soulmates.
He must have done something pretty shitty in a past life to warrant this kind of bad karma.
Or we did something really amazing!
You realize who you’re talking about here right?
Oh yeah…We don’t deserve him.
“You’re tellin’ me,” Wade mutters. He swings his legs from where he’s perched on a bridge over-looking the Niagara Falls.
He had done a lot of traveling in his home country over the past few weeks, hoping it would help him keep his mind off the bug. But, where his brain used to work at super sonic speed, making him think of at least a hundred different topics a minute, now every thought seems centered around Spidey.
Movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. It surprises him because it’s not even six in the morning yet, no one else should be here right now. He turns to find a college-aged boy standing about ten feet away from him, he’s surprised the boy got this close to him before Wade noticed, most people aren’t able to do that.
He looks small, wearing only a hoodie and worn jeans to protect him from the chilly air, and has a messy tuff of brown hair on top of his head. Wade jolts when the boy turns toward him with an almost amused expression, as if he was expecting a psycho in a red costume with lethal weapons to be on the bridge with him. His impossibly wide brown eyes hold Wade’s for a few seconds before he smirks and then jumps off the bridge.
“Fuck!” Wade cries sprinting over to where the boy jumped and leaping over after him. He closes his eyes as he braces himself for impact with the cold water, but it never comes. Instead he lands on something that slows his fall to a stop and bounces him slightly.
He opens his eyes and the first thing he notices is the river rushing below him, which causes knots in his stomach. Even though he knows he wouldn’t die from the fall, heights are still pretty scary. The second thing he notices is the thin but durable wiring holding him up. It’s in a crisscrossed pattern shaped similarly to a...web.
Wade carefully turns himself over into a sitting position. Movement is awkward because every time he shifts, the web shifts with him, almost like being on a trampoline. The kid is sitting cross legged in the center of the web, looking at Wade with a sheepish expression.
“Uh hey so, I didn’t fall in the river.” He says. giving Wade a small grin.
“It’s Peter actually, Peter Parker. But, yeah it’s me…in the flesh.” He shoots finger guns at Wade, laughing awkwardly. His voice is slightly higher than Spiderman’s but Wade can definitely recognize it. He must pitch his voice lower when he’s in costume, smart boy.
What a dork.
PETEY PETEY PETEY!
“Why are you here and not like, a thousand miles away from me?” Wade asks. Peter’s face turns serious at Wade’s words.
“I tried to give you your space, I really did, but I just couldn’t stop wondering why you ran, why you seemed so devastated when our marks matched us. At first I thought it was because you didn’t want me,” Peter raises a hand to silence Wade when he tries to interrupt. “But then a certain billionaire genius reminded me of something pretty simple but important.”
“It was probably to eat your veggies right? To keep a tush that magnificent you have to get all your nutrients in.” Wade lets his mouth move to cover up his nerves.
“It was that we’re soulmates,” Peter ignores his chatter. “That means that you’re destined to be with me, destined to keep me strong and to make me happier than anyone else ever could.” Wade swallows loudly, unable to look away from the intense look in Peter’s eyes. “And that goes both ways, Wade.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Wade says. What is it about this boy that takes away his dashing wit? Peter rolls his eyes at him and starting crawling gracefully towards him.
“I mean that, even though it took me awhile, I know you left because you thought I’d be unhappy being yours,” He says getting closer with every word, and Wade finds himself frozen in spot.
“That I just spent the last week following your trail across Canada and planned this elaborate confession that included me jumping off a bridge and spending an hour trying to make the perfect web to trap you in, so you couldn’t run away from me again.” He pauses with his face just inches from Wade’s. He reaches his hands up to tugs Wade’s mask up just past his nose, and Wade is still frozen in place.
“It means that I love you and I know you love me too, so I’ve come here to tell you that it’s time to come back home.” And then Peter kisses him.