Chapter Text
Aunt May looks back and forth Peter and Wade’s face, then she casts her eyes down and says with a gentle voice: “I will wait outside so you can put on some clothes in peace.”
She does that and when the main door clicks behind her, Wade turns off the stove and rushes to the bedroom, not even giving Peter time to speak. He follows him, calling nervously: “Wade! Wade, listen!”
He stops, dumbstruck, when he sees what his boyfriend is doing; not taking some clothes from the closet, not looking for his boxers. He is at the window, one leg already outside, and Peter has to run to him to grab his arm before he falls on the fire escape stairs.
“Wade!” Peter exclaims, eyes round and big. “What are you doing?!”
“She saw me.” Wade answers, talking fast, stumbling over words. “She saw me, my body, my face, Peter, she fucking saw me like this and… and…!”
“She wasn’t scared!” Peter assures him. He knows it; his Aunt was probably very surprised, but she is not the kind of person who judges people from their looks. He tells Wade so, smiling warmly, but Wade just shakes his head and Peter is terrified to see tears in his eyes. It hasn’t happened in… in a while. It never happened since that night Wade told him about his past and the tortures at Weapon X.
“I… I have to go.” the merc whispers, voice hoarse, but Peter uses a little bit of his super-strength to take him to the bed and gently sits down with him. Wade relaxes under his touch, especially when Peter hugs him, and he rests his face against his shoulder, shaking.
“This wasn’t the meeting I imagined.” Peter admits, aware of his own state. Half-naked, body covered with hickeys and love marks… to be honest, it’s not a bad way to show his Aunt how much he and Wade love each other, but he understands the other man’s shock at her sudden appearance.
“But… hey! This is a good chance! We should take it!”
“She is gonna hate me.” Wade whimpers, raising his head, and Peter’s heart hurts when he sees the tears now streaming down the scarred face, wetting the rough skin and bumps on it. He gently dries them with his thumbs, murmuring: “No, Wade, she isn’t. She was just surprised to see another man in my house.”
“A man like me.” Wade corrects him, the shame clear in his voice, and Peter would give anything to chase it away, to stop it from creeping into his boyfriend’s eyes. After all, Wade’s issues can’t be simply removed with just a month of relationship, even if this month has been the best of their life. Peter knows this and he doesn’t mind being there for Wade; he just wants to see that self-hatred leave him in peace.
“Don’t say that. She is not like that.” he insists, taking Wade’s hand and squeezing his fingers. The merc lowers his head, looks at the mattress and the colored sheets they bought together, and Peter leans in to kiss his forehead.
“Honey, please, just meet her. It doesn’t have to last long and you can go to the Stark Tower as soon as you shake her hand. It won’t even be an excuse, since it’s true.” Peter hugs him again, resting his chin on his head, and Wade hums something. “Don’t worry, I will talk with her. She is so nice, she won’t judge you, I swear!”
“You will have to tell her you like dicks.”
Wade’s tone is normal, now, and he has spoken with so much childish innocence Peter can’t help but snort.
“Yeah, I don’t think it will be a shock for her. Also…” he kisses Wade’s bald head and the merc hums again, this time more cheerfully. “I will tell her I love you. That’s what matters.”
Wade makes the sound he always makes when he is embarrassed and doesn’t know how to reply; he rubs his face against Peter’s chest one last time, then looks up at him again and frowns.
“I don’t know what to wear. We didn’t buy a tuxedo when we went shopping.”
“There is no need for a tuxedo.” Peter laughs. “Just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans will be fine. Stark won’t mind them either.” He stops, an idea passing through his mind, and timidly adds: “But if you want to feel more comfortable, wear your favorite hoodie. Really, Wade, anything is good!”
“Even my ‘I love anal’ shirt?”
Peter is about to reply with a witty answer, then he sees Wade’s small smile and sighs relieved, because he knows his boyfriend is slowly feeling better.
“Dork.” he says, swatting his arm. “Come on, let’s get dressed!”
They slowly do and Peter observes his boyfriend from the corner of his eye, watching his stiff movements, his scared eyes, the shyness written all over his face. He walks to him to place a kiss on his cheek and Wade melts, sighing fondly.
“I…” he starts, but has to stop to clear his voice. “I-I don’t want to scare her, Peter.”
“You won’t.” Peter smiles at him and brushes a hand down his back. “I swear.”
Wade looks at the hoodie in his hands, alarm quickly replacing the frail calm in his eyes, and talks fast, as he does when he feels insecure and scared: “I don’t know, Peter, I am not… I don’t look… reassuring and I didn’t get along well with Blind Al… No, wait, I did sometimes and she wasn’t really an old lady, more like a bitter old creature, but…”
“Judging from what you told me about Blind Al, I am pretty sure Aunt May is completely different from her, even if they are both old ladies.” Peter laughs and this time moves the merc’s head to kiss his lips. Wade moans into his mouth and deepens the kiss, wrapping an arm around Peter’s slim waist.
“I don’t want to fuck this up.” Wade whispers when they pull apart and there is sadness in his eyes, so much sadness and disgust for himself Peter feels like crying now.
“You won’t.” he says, knowing it’s true. He softly takes Wade’s head in his hands and pulls it down to places small kisses on his face. “You won’t, trust me.”
“I do.” Wade answers and Peter is super grateful for that.
Finally prepared, they go out of the bedroom and Peter slowly opens the main door, peeking outside.
Aunt May is resting against the wall just next to it and turns her head to him, a smile on her lips, the little box still protected by her skinny, long fingers.
“You could have waited inside.” Peter gently tells her, motioning her to enter, and she steps back into the apartment, shaking her head.
“No, dear, I didn’t want to make you hurry. Nor embarrass you.”
Wade is standing in the hallway, just below the arch that leads into the kitchen and living room. The hoodie brings out his broad, hard chest and body, the jeans show his strong legs. Despite his imposing size and height, though, he looks small, tremendously tiny and fragile. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, how to use his hands, where to put them, where to look.
Peter is about to intervene to assist him, but Aunt May precedes him and walks over to Wade, the smile still bright and big on her wrinkled face.
“I am sorry I frightened you, my dear, I didn’t know there was a guest in Peter’s house!” she looks down at the box in her hands and sighs, a bit frustrated. “Gosh, I would have brought more cake!”
“It’s okay, ma’am.” Wade manages to let out those simple words, but it sounds like there is sandpaper in his throat and he awkwardly clears his voice, continuing: “I am sorry I scared you. That… that sight must not have been good.”
“My, I have to admit I haven’t seen a half-naked man in a long while.” the old lady giggles, ignoring Wade’s obvious mention of his scars. Peter gasps, like a shocked child: “Aunt May!”
“Cover your ears if you can’t stand to hear your aunt talk about the good old days!” the woman cheerfully retorts, then her expression turns slightly disapproving. “Really, my boy, why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“We…” Wade intervenes, fidgeting and looking down. “We preferred to wait a bit.”
“I see.” Aunt May observes him with a thoughtful glance, then her kind smile comes back and she extends her hand. “I am May Parker. Nice to meet you…”
“Wade.” the scarred man looks at the hand as if it’s an alien life form; his eyes dart to Peter, who reassuringly nods at him, so he inhales and takes the petite hand in a delicate grip. Aunt May doesn’t seem bothered by the rough, irregular texture of the scars and keeps smiling at him.
“Wade Wilson.” the merc concludes and he would like to return the smile, to appear nice, normal, but he fears he would be able to make only a shaky, bad imitation of a lopsided grin, so he doesn’t curl his lips nor say anything else.
“Wade…” Aunt May narrows her eyes, not in a suspicious way, but in the same thoughtful way from before. “You know, I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Wade and Peter exchange an alarmed look, an idea already forming in their minds.
Those old photos! The photos taken by the teenagers in the construction camp, back when everything was still a mess!
Wade wasn’t wearing the mask that night; however, even if his features are particular, recognizable due to their special nature, the photos were blurred and taken in the dark, so it’s probable that nobody would ever point at him in the streets and shouts: “Deadpool!”
So, before Peter can come up with a good excuse, Wade does what he does best: he jokes to advert the attention from himself.
“Maybe you saw a picture of Freddie Krueger, miss May.” he laughs, for the first time, and the woman brings a hand to her mouth, paling.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to…!”
“I know.” Wade reassures her, hoping his smile isn’t creepy, goofy or disgusting to see. “It’s okay, miss May, I hear that a lot. My face is pretty special.” He blinks, suddenly worried. “Shit, can I call you ‘miss May’? Or do you prefer something else? Shit, I said shit! Shit!”
He steps back, clutching the hem of his hoodie, almost tearing the fabric, while his other hand flies to his mouth just like Aunt May’s did.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear.” she says, her eyes softening, blinking with amusement. “I heard my fair share of bad words when I was young. And even later! Miss May is perfect, by the way.” She suddenly beams at him and exclaims: “Why don’t we sit and eat some of my cake? I put chocolate into it, it’s one of my best recipes!”
Miss May really is special and kind, as Peter told him, but Wade doesn’t trust his social capabilities enough right now to eat in front of her, in the sunlight invading the living room, the scars and sores marring his face while they put food into their mouths. It’s something he never thinks about when he is with Peter, because he never shows any disgust or uneasiness; on the contrary, he always insists to eat on his lap or so close to each other on the couch that it’s almost difficult to raise an arm to eat.
But Aunt May is here today and despite her smile, gentle words and offer, Wade doesn’t want to traumatize her or make her puke on the floor.
Because that’s what is going to happen, a malicious voice tells him, the pressure on his head growing stronger. He gulps and shakes his head, ignoring Peter’s worried stare.
“No, thanks, miss May. I have to go to work.”
It feels bad to refuse her invitation - and he never tasted a cake prepared with love by a kind old lady… Blind Al only put laxatives and rancid milk inside hers -, but at the same time he feels pride. That simple, last sentence contains a whole world that makes him appear reliable, good for his nephew, it tells her that he can take care of Peter, that he wants to take care of him.
He is not even sure whether Stark will hire him or what kind of salary he wants to give him, but it’s better than nothing, better than idling in the apartment without providing anything.
“Oh, that’s a pity.” the old lady looks genuinely disappointed and Wade can’t stop his tongue in time, despite what he has just thought about food, scars and puking.
“You could come for dinner one of these days.” he even tries to joke again: “My spaghetti are the best in the world, you can find better stuff only in Italy!”
He winks; his winks are good, he knows that, he trained a lot to appear cool and confident during his missions… so this wink must have been cool too, right?
Apparently it was, because Aunt May giggles and nods, accepting.
“I’d love that, dear.”
“Good! See you soon, then! It was a pleasure, really!” Feeling slightly calm, Wade gently pats her arm, careful not to touch her crisp, clean dress too much, and turns to Peter. He blushes.
Did Aunt May understand their relationship? Did she realize? Can he kiss Peter on the mouth before going?
‘A good luck kiss…’ Wade thinks with a big, childish longing and he can see the same doubt inside Peter’s eyes. Then it disappears and the young man stands on his tip-toes, placing his soft lips on his chapped ones.
“Have a good day at work.” he whispers, smiling sweetly, and Wade wants to take him in his arms and hug him until the sun goes down.
“Thank you.” he smiles back, then brushes their hands together before turning back to Aunt May. She is in the kitchen, placing the box on the counter, but her eyes are on them and her expression is unreadable. Not angry, distant nor disapproving, just… unreadable, but also containing a badly hidden sweetness.
“Goodbye, miss May.” Wade babbles, scrambling to the door; he closes it too hard and winces at the loud noise. He reopens it, looks at Peter and the old woman staring at him in surprise and timidly says: “Sorry. Didn’t mean to. Uh, later.” then closes it again, this time slowly and with delicateness.
He hopes everything will go fine between Peter and his Aunt; that he didn’t ruin their relationship, that she likes him or at least approves of him.
‘Please.’ he prays, not even knowing who he is talking to. He has stopped believing in God, he doesn’t acknowledge Him since Weapon X, maybe even earlier, when his mom died and his dad beat the shit out of him with his beloved beer bottles.
But today he prays, clutching his hands together as he heads down the building; he prays for Peter and their life together, he prays for their love and even for himself. He knows he deserves nothing - that he especially doesn’t deserve Peter -, but isn’t he a person too after all? Peter is teaching him so, Peter tells him and shows him every day.
‘Please. Don’t take this away from me.’
He realizes that facing the Avengers looked like the worst thing, but in reality - despite the calm tones they spoke with - it’s Aunt May the one he has to convince to keep being together with Peter. Not because she would intervene or create problems - he can already see that despite talking with her so little. No, Wade would go away, he would leave Peter to make sure his relationship with his Aunt isn’t utterly ruined.
If she doesn’t accept him, then he will sacrifice his newfound peace for Peter; he doesn’t want to destroy his life nor his family. He is ready to lose everything for him.
But, oh God, it hurts so much! The mere thought of it hurts so much!
‘Please.’ he prays again, biting his lips until they bleed. ‘Please, please, please…’
He is in the streets now and the Stark Tower is partially lost in the distance, surrounded by other skyscrapers and tall buildings; Wade fixates on it, his mind running fast, imagining all the possible outcomes, the dialogue going inside their apartment now that he is not there.
She didn’t look like the kind of person to do that, but maybe miss May is critiquing him now, asking questions in an irate voice, crying because her nephew chose a disfigured man as his boyfriend, an ugly man who brought his marred mug down his nephew’s face and kissed and bit his neck and marked him with his love and…
He has a job though! Almost. Still, Stark promised and even if the salary is going to be shit, even if he can’t kill anyone, he doesn’t care, he will accept anything. If he tells Aunt May he is working for Tony Stark, she will change her mind about him, right? Or maybe she will just overlook his horrible scars, pretend to like him and let him stay with Peter for his nephew’s sake.
She didn’t look like that… but Wade doesn’t like people, he doesn’t trust them and he can understand perfectly if she already hates him and the thought of him being together with the man she raised and took care of for so many years.
But he trusts Peter and Peter told him his Aunt is good, kind, special, understanding. Not only today, during a lot of their conversations at night or in front of the TV too.
So Wade gulps down the bile and keeps walking towards the Tower, pushing the hoodie on his head to hide his face.
‘Please.’ he prays one last time and then he hears a voice, a voice he hears every day, a voice he loves, a voice he would listen to forever.
It’s Peter’s and it softly tells him: “Everything is going to be okay.”
And Wade trusts it.
- - -
“He looks like a nice man.”
Aunt May is smiling while she speaks and expertly cuts the cake in half, putting the bigger part inside the fridge.
“He is.” Peter assures her, smiling as well. “He is very sweet.”
He clears his throat, shifting on the seat, joining his hands together on the kitchen counter.
“Aunt May, I… I have to tell you something. You probably figured it out already, but…”
“Oh, dear, I am old, not stupid.” she laughs, the sound crystalline and happy. Her eyes soften and one of her delicate hands rests upon Peter’s.
“You will always be my Peter, no matter what. I will always love you and so will Ben from up there.” She raises an eyebrow and her voice sounds amused when she adds: “Frankly, I can’t believe we didn't have this conversation sooner.”
Peter blushes with happiness, looking down at their hands, and explains quickly, talking fast just like Wade does when he is embarrassed: “I… I never thought about it before, but then I met Wade and… and it felt so natural, he sparked something in me and when it happened I had no doubts, no fears! We have been together only for a month, but it’s like we know each other since years!”
Which it’s partially true; Spider-Man and Deadpool interacted a lot in the previous years, but Peter is talking about the men under the masks, the men with a past, pain and memories inside them, not the mere symbols, the simple ideals and ideas those masks represent in different ways.
Everything started a month ago, inside Wade’s old, ruined apartment; it started with a simple suggestion, but it’s undeniable that there was something in them from the start that made the development of their relationship possible.
There were hope and admiration, fondness and understanding; then trust and more respect came, then finally love, and it felt so good, so right, so normal and beautiful Peter never regretted it and never will.
“I am happy for you both.” Aunt May says, her smile bright and joyful. “What most matters is that you are happy.” She squeezes his hand, looking into his eyes. “Are you, Peter?”
“I am.” Peter answers without hesitation. “Wade makes me happy.” He frowns sadly, focusing for a moment on the tank top the other man left on the couch arm. “He is happy too, I think. I hope. I want to make him happy, to give him peace, I want it above everything else. Oh, Aunt May, he suffered, he suffered a lot! You can’t imagine how much!”
“I saw it.” she softly responds, then her tone becomes less sad, more cheerful. “But I also saw the happiness you are talking about. When you kissed… his smile was warm and his eyes immediately told me he is the right person for you.” She giggles and Peter blushes. “He loves you a lot.”
“I love him too.” Peter’s gaze moves to the colorful papers attached to the fridge; they are Wade’s drawings, which he makes once in a while to spend the time or simply to make Peter laugh. They are funny, childish, cute; some of them, though, are more detailed, more effort has been put into them and there is a deeper message hidden into the forms (that tell short stories about Spider-Man and Deadpool), the colours, the dialogues.
Peter pinned the best ones on the fridge; the others are neatly gathered inside a folder, which he put inside the top right drawer of his desk, ready to be opened every time he wishes to see Wade’s gifts. They drew some of them together and those are his favorite too; he always tries to look at them at least once a week.
He laughs softly as he observes the papers on the fridge and Aunt May follows his gaze, giggling when she notices what caught his attention.
“He must be such a sweet boy!” she says, then she shakes her head, a hand on her cheek. “Oh, Peter, I scared him so much! He looked so… so terrified!”
“He was surprised.” Peter repeats the same words he told Wade, but he needs to add: “Although he was scared too, scared for you. He thinks his scars are horrible and he doesn’t like to show them to people like that, so fully and completely.” He smiles sadly, looking at a particular drawing where Spidey and Deadpool are saving some children together. “I think his scars are beautiful, that they show how brave and strong he is, but he can’t see them like that yet.”
“I wasn’t scared by his appearance.” Aunt May assures, slowly sitting in front of her nephew. “Taken aback, yes, but not scared, not disgusted.” She hesitates for a long moment, then timidly asks: “Is he a veteran?”
Peter’s eyes move to her. He can’t tell her the truth, tell her about Weapon X and Wade’s past, but he won’t lie either.
“Kind of, yes.” he answers. His voice gets lower, sadder. “He went through a lot.”
“I won’t ask more, I promise.” Aunt May starts playing with her hands on her lap. “And I will avoid any kind of heavy or bad topic about war, wounds or… or fire and…”
“It’s okay, Aunt May.” Peter reaches across the counter to shake gently her shoulder. “Don’t worry. He will love you a lot. He already does, I am sure!”
“God, I hope so.” she looks at the fridge, at the cute drawings on it, her expression becoming almost moved. “I don’t want to ruin your relationship. Also, he seems so sweet! Poor dear. Maybe I should prepare all my cakes next time. I wonder which one he would like more…”
“Probably all of them.” Peter giggles, knowing Wade has a sweet tooth and would eat practically everything that contains lots of sugar or has been fried multiple times.
“Do you think he would like my stew?” Aunt May starts pondering, listing all her good recipes. “My soups are pretty tasty… my meatballs are spicy, he may like them too…”
Peter ignores a joke about ‘meatballs’ that popped up inside his mind - Wade’s influence can be very strong sometimes - and replies: “He will love everything coming from your expert hands, Aunt.”
“Then I will bring everything I can next time I pass by.” the woman promises, remembering Wade’s offer. “You two should come for dinner one of these days too!” Her eyes goes big and alarmed. “Do you think he would be okay with that? I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.”
“You should come for dinner here first.” Peter agrees with a nod. “Give him some time to get used to your presence. He…” he stops for a moment, then sighs, eyeing the other half of the cake still on the counter. “He will have a hard time eating in front of you. That’s probably why he refused to stay longer.”
“Oh, dear!” Aunt May exclaims, looking sorry, guilt shifting her wrinkled, papery features. “I didn’t mean to make him feel so bad! I didn’t know he was here, I would have called to warn or… or…” She sighs, shaking her head again. “He must not worry about that. Please, tell him, Peter! I don’t find his scars to be disgusting, he doesn’t have to feel ashamed!”
“It’s going to take a while to make him change his mind about that last part.” Peter says sadly, but then he smiles, sure and confident. “We have been together only for a month and he already made a lot of progress, though! I know he can get better. This is what he needs.” he gestures to himself, to the apartment, to the cozy kitchen filled with domesticity and warm, beautiful memories and little, nice, familiar things.
“Love?” Aunt May smiles in return and Peter nods.
“That, and a family.” the young man extends a hand, which his Aunt immediately grasps. “You already took care of me and treated me like your son. Please, could you do the same with Wade? He has been alone for so long and…”
“You don’t need to ask, Peter. I would have done that anyway.” the old lady gets up to walk around the counter and hug him tightly. “I am so happy for you two!”
“Thank you, Aunt May.” Peter lets out a relieved sigh and when his eyes start stinging and his sight gets blurred, he sniffs and pulls away to rub his face, lips trembling.
“Thank you.” he repeats softly, not wanting to cry in front of her, but not doing a good job at hiding his tears. “It means a lot.”
“There, there.” the old woman laughs, patting his shoulder. “No need to cry, my boy. Let’s eat some cake instead! And don’t forget to make Wade eat it too later.”
“Of course.”
Peter beams at her; he knew everything would have gone well, but it’s been relieving and incredibly good to hear that Aunt May really approves of them and wants to be Wade’s friend.
‘He will be so happy! I can’t wait to tell him!’
Then he remembers where Wade is going - where he probably already is. He knows Stark will hire him for sure, but what kind of job will it be? Will it be good for Wade or bore him to death instead? Will it be humiliating for him?
Peter doesn’t mind if Wade has to use weapons; he has seen the other Avengers use them or kill enemies for necessity. He just doesn’t want gratuitous, chaotic, not necessary death, he doesn’t want Wade to resort to killing because it makes him feel temporarily better, when in reality it just causes him more guilt and self-hatred. He doesn’t want him to be a slave of the life the world chose for him, he wants him to be free and fighting for what is good, not for what can destroy his already frail sanity.
‘Please, God.’ Peter prays as his Aunt starts slicing the cake, not listening to her. ‘Please, give him a good chance. Make sure that he won’t accept a shitty salary just to make me happy and provide for us. Stark wouldn’t offer something like that, though, right? … Oh, please!’
He tastes the cake, but doesn’t really feel it in his mouth; his mind rushes, it imagines scenes where an embarrassed Stark offers Wade a mediocre security job in one of his smallest industries which will make him feel useless and frustrated. Scenes where the billionaire tells him he can’t trust him yet with something different and more important, more complicated. Scenes where Wade is underestimated for the millionth time, where he is considered a stupid, crazy mercenary as always, where his intelligence and creativeness aren’t even noticed.
He nods and smiles when his Aunt keeps talking and his fingers twitch on the cold surface of the counter, they play with the edge of the half-empty plate, he imagines Wade coming back with a too bright smile that wants to hide his anxiety, his disappointment, his sadness.
‘Please, God.’ Peter closes his eyes for a moment, pushing back the tears. ‘Give him a chance!’
- - -
When the doors of the elevator opens and Wade steps into Stark’s personal office, he is already having a mild heartattack and his mind is filled with images of Peter’s tears as he tells him his Aunt was terribly angry and grossed out, that he tried to talk to her in vain, that he doesn’t know what to do, that they can’t be together anymore, that…
“Wilson!”
Stark’s nice tone brings him out of the pit of despair he fell into, but the anxiety doesn’t go away so easily and Wade replies too loudly, too cheerfully:
“Tin-Man! Did I ever tell you it’s good to see your chest glow like that? I still can’t understand why the hell they removed it in your third movie!” He ignores Stark’s confused face and concludes: “I hope you have good news for me!”
He shakes the billionaire’s extended hand with a lot of energy, grinning like a madman. “You have good news for me, don’t you?”
Stark observes him, blinking slowly and flexing his aching hand; then he makes a surprised sound and asks, dumbfounded: “Are you nervous?”
“N-No!” Wade flinches back, offended, his pride hurt. “Of course not!” but his voice is high-pitched and it sounds funny even to his own ears.
“Wilson nervous for a job?” Stark jokes, without any malice; he laughs when Wade pouts and motions him to follow him to his desk. “Come. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Is it that easy?” Wade ironically says, sitting down with a snort. He almost regrets his words because Stark looks at him with a somewhat hurt expression.
“No, it’s actually difficult. Not difficult like… impossible, but it will require all your experience.” the billionaire explains. “I know you have a lot of it.”
Wade looks at the papers scattered on the desk and his hairless eyebrows shoot up when Stark passes him a contract. He is not very used to them; contracts are usually verbal in the mercenary world, to avoid any kind of proof or link to illicit actions and people. After all, it’s not like someone can’t refuse to pay after the job has been done. They wouldn’t stay alive for too long, especially with someone deadly like Deadpool.
He looks at the blank space where he must write his signature and laughs inwardly, thinking that he rarely used his true name in the past, when he rented apartments, bought weapons and so on.
This is going to be something legal. Something good, normal. Something to be proud of, something that will help him feel like a person, something that will make both him and Peter happy.
The thought of Peter warms his heart and he sends another small prayer to whoever is up there. He hopes mister Ben is looking down at him with a smile. Maybe he will tell God to lend a hand to his nephew’s boyfriend.
His eyes scan the contract, but before he can start reading it, Stark speaks.
“It’s a security job. There is a special structure, here in New York, that needs protection and assistance.” the billionaire sits down, presses two keys on a modern-looking keyboard and a blue screen pops up in the air. Wade whistles, approving of the sci-fi taste.
The screen shows a pretty big Stark building surrounded by a park; Wade’s expert eyes can already see all the cameras and security stuff to keep it monitored, disguised as simpler things not to attract unwanted attention.
“Why is it so important?” he asks, leaning in on the desk, elbows on it. Stark presses another key and the image changes; there is a zoom of the building on the screen now and Wade hums when he notices all the damages and repairs on the walls and windows. Some doors are burned, the wall around them battered and darker, meaning there have been recent explosions.
“It contains S.H.I.E.L.D. top-secret stuff.” Stark explains with a sigh. “Fury asked me to keep it somewhere safe, but it’s not easy to find a place like that in New York… not anywhere else, if there are people who wants to access it like crazy.”
“What kind of people?” Wade asks, his professionalism kicking in. They must have been tough guys, if the mild damages and explosions shown by the screen are anything to go by. Stark confirms his intuition.
“Sometimes the facility is attacked by terrorist groups; they either try to hack the servers inside or forcefully invade the building. In the first case, the scientists working there have no problems and chase them away as soon as they notice the virtual intrusion. However, they are not well armed nor trained for the second case, not as much as I would like or as it would be necessary. They prefer to lock every gate and door rather than take a gun and start defending the place with some bullets, but when their precious locks are blown up and terrorists march in, they don’t know what to do.”
“There are no guards?” Wade looks up at the billionaire, frowning. Stark sighs again and continues: “There were a lot of good guys until two days ago. Another group of criminals managed to enter and killed them all, as you probably guessed looking at these images. They even hurt some scientists, but Fury intervened before they could steal anything or kill everyone else.”
“This is why you need me.” Wade’s eyes move back to the contract. “You want me to protect that place.”
“I want you to protect those people.” Stark gently corrects him. “By leading a new team of guards. You will tell them what to do in case of attack, which weapons to use, how to escort the scientists to safety and so on.”
Wade’s mouth hangs open and he blinks two times, sure to have heard wrong.
“You… you want me to lead a group of soldiers?” He lets out a weird, weak laugh. “M-Me?”
“Oh, they are not just soldiers! They are S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits! Fury needs someone to train them.” Stark has spoken with a big, toothy smile. “You are going to be their teacher!”
“You are insane. You and Fury.” Wade frantically shakes his head. “And it’s coming from me, so it means you are really two psychos! Those kids are gonna die with me leading them! Hell, they are gonna die as soon as I step into that facility!”
“That’s not true.” Stark’s expression softens, becomes mild and kind. “It will be a good training for you too and I know you won’t let anything happen to those young men.”
Wade shakes his head again, this time with less energy, and stares at the contract without reading it. Stark suggests him to do so.
“There are no clauses.” he assures. “No tricks. You know I wouldn’t do something like that. And the pay is good, it will help you and Parker! There will be bonuses and rewards during the year, of course, and…”
“If something happens…” Wade gulps, looking away from the piece of paper. “If something bad happens, I could never forgive myself.”
“I know you can control yourself now. I saw it. You and Parker helped us a lot this month and you have never lost control.” Stark leans forward and pats his arm. “You have to trust yourself more.”
Wade stays quiet, looking back at the contract with a timid face.
“You are all crazy.” he mumbles and jumps on his seat when another voice replies in the room: “I hear that a lot.”
Steve Rogers is leaning against a door, different from the one Wade entered from, and there is a small, but warm smile on his lips and his eyes look less tired than a month ago, when he requested the special meeting.
Wade has met him after that day, of course, during all the Avengers missions he took part in to help, and the super soldier never addressed his and Peter’s relationship nor gave him more problems. He just gave orders, did his job and helped civilians; sometimes he even gave some compliments.
It’s weird - and a bit unsettling - see him here, talking directly to him about something so important. Wade immediately tenses up, ready for another argument, but Rogers doesn’t seem to be looking for a fight. On the contrary, his smile grows as he approaches the desk.
“Steve helped me convince Fury about this.” Stark explains and Wade pales under the scars.
“Why?” he asks in a whisper and Rogers shrugs.
“Do you mind if we talk in private for a second?” he changes topic, nodding at the door he left open; it seems to lead into a sunlight-lit corridor and Wade slowly gets up, following him as Stark remains in the office, waiting for their return.
“How are you?” Rogers asks while closing the door; one of the walls of the corridor is replaced by a huge window that shows the city. The Stark Tower is pretty high, so the sight is beautiful and Wade stops for a moment to see if he can find Peter’s apartment. He cannot, so he walks back, where some comfortable seats are, and answers: “I am fine.”
“Good.”
Rogers sits down with a groan and a wince; maybe he is hurting somewhere after a mission, but his expression turns controlled and normal again as he speaks: “You shouldn’t be so scared of accepting that job.”
“Why are you helping me now?” Wade scowls at him. “You tried before and it wasn’t that great. And you didn't seem so eager to give me another hand a month ago.”
“I know. This is why I want to help you in a different manner now.” Rogers’ eyes turn sad and his face suddenly looks older, tired, pale. He looks like he should be, an old, matured soldier who always fought for peace and freedom and lost many things during the way.
“I was wrong.” he admits, getting up. “And I am ashamed, because I was not the hero your little self would have been proud of.” Rogers looks at him in the eye and concludes, softly: “I am sorry, Wilson.”
Wade blushes; those words have hit home and he doesn’t know how to react, how to reply. He isn’t good at this, especially if the one telling him he’s sorry is Captain America, his childhood hero. He fidgets on the spot, shuffles his feet on the clean, elegant marble floor and mumbles: “… It’s okay.”
“I made a lot of mistake. Everyone does and I am no exception.” Rogers smiles again and snorts. “Bucky would agree.”
“Why did you change your mind?” Wade asks. He frowns, thinking about the past month. “Is it because you saw me fight without killing like crazy? Because I controlled myself and followed (more or less) your sometimes stupid (sorry) orders?” He grabs the hem of his hoodie, feeling like the child he was so many years ago. “Because I was a good soldier for once in my life?”
“Because you are a good person.”
Rogers grabs his shoulder and gently shakes it as Wade looks down, unable to come up with a witty answer, a joke, a comment to dismiss that compliment.
“I saw how you look at Peter and how he looks at you. You love each other so much and I am sorry I doubted and offended you.” Rogers sighs and even if Wade can’t see his face, he hears the guilt in his voice when he adds: “Sometimes, I want to protect my friends and my ideals so much I don’t realize I am hurting or throwing them away instead.”
“It’s okay.” Wade repeats and the little him he has inside, the little Wade sleeping in his heart, giggles because his idol considers him good, reliable.
He can already see Peter’s smile when he will tell him.
“So, please. Accept that job. I know you can do it.” Rogers laughs and pats his shoulder one last time before letting it go. “Peter knows it too. Think about him and the love you share and you won’t have any problems.”
Wade looks at the door, beyond which Stark is waiting for him to accept or refuse.
“What if I make a mess?” he whispers, eyes large with dread. “What if everything goes to shit because of me?”
“It won’t happen. But…” Rogers grabs his shoulder again. “If it happens, you won’t be considered a failure nor a monster. Only a man, a human being who can make mistakes and learn from them.”
Wade inhales deeply, mind filled with images of Peter. Peter smiling, Peter laughing, Peter biting a pencil while reading a book, Peter cooking with him, Peter kissing him and hugging him, Peter telling him he loves him…
He feels better already. He turns to Rogers and the little Wade inside urges him to say ‘thank you’. He does so and the super soldier smiles with a nod.
Wade opens the door and grins at Stark, feeling renewed, with energy and confidence again.
“Give me that contract.”
- - -
When the door opens, Peter springs up from the couch and rushes to the hallway. Wade is there and the young man search for any kind of discomfort or bad emotions on his face. He finds none.
“How…” he has to clear his voice before he can ask: “How did it go?”
Wade remains impassible for other three seconds, then he can’t keep his smile at bay anymore. He bursts into laughter, a triumphant, booming, warm sound that makes Peter all tingly inside and they hug each other tight.
Peter doesn’t even ask what the offer is; if Wade is happy, then he is too. He laughs with him and only when the scarred man rummages into his hoodie and takes out a folded paper, he asks about the job.
“Is…?”
“Read it.” Wade giggles, bouncing on his feet, and Peter gently unfolds the contract. The more he reads, the more his heart beats faster and his smile gets larger. Not because the salary is good - even if he knows Wade cares about that a lot -, but because it’s a good job, a job where his qualities aren’t underrated, a job where he is finally considered good.
“You will train S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits!” Peter exclaims, happy tears shimmering in his eyes. “Wade, you will lead a team!”
“I know and that thought is enough to make me shit my pants, but…” Wade laughs again, grasping his hand. “Even Rogers said I can do it!”
“Cap was there?!” Peter instantly pales, fearing the worst. “What did he say?”
“That he is sorry.” Wade pinches his cheek. “Stop making that face, baby boy, he convinced Fury to give me this job!”
Peter sobs happily and Wade adds, his tone softer, the hand on his cheek now cupping it: “Don’t cry, Petey.”
“Sorry.” the young man sniffs, giggling, and wipes his running nose on the sleeve of his shirt. “I am just so happy for you and…”
He hiccups again when Wade smiles at him and leans in to press his lips against his; he deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck, and hears Wade sob as well into his mouth.
“Peter.” the scarred man whispers when he pulls back; he caresses his face, brushes back his hair, gulps and finally asks, like Peter expected: “What did your Aunt say?”
“That she is happy for us.” Peter laughs when his boyfriend stares at him with incredulity before sighing in relief. “She wants to be your friend. Before she left, she told me she will come for dinner and will bring a lot of spicy food, just how you like it.”
“Oh God.” Wade suddenly frowns. “Is it Christmas today? It’s too hot to be Christmas. What is it?”
“It’s not Christmas.” Peter giggles, nuzzling his neck. “It’s something even better.”
“What did she say about my scars?” Wade gulps and Peter can feel and almost hear the motion. He raises his head to peck Wade’s lips and replies: “She doesn’t mind them. She said you don’t have to worry about them, that you are a sweet man.”
Wade trembles for a moment, his mind trying to assimilate those words, then he shows a toothy smile.
“God, Peter, today is definitely Christmas!”
Peter grins at him, then takes his hand, leading him to their bedroom; he softly places the contract on his desk, then gently pushes Wade on the bed.
“We have to celebrate.” he whispers, leaning down to brush his lips against Wade’s chapped one and the other man hums, pulling him closer.
“Peter…” he kisses his face as Peter starts removing his belt and jeans.
“Yes?” he says with a smile, urging Wade to take off his hoodie, and after he has done it, laying bare-chested on their bed, he leans down again to kiss his skin.
“I…”
Peter looks up at him, raising his eyebrows and waiting patiently; Wade looks away, though, shy and hesitant, so the young man gently moves his head to look into his eyes. He searches into them for an answer and when he thinks he has found one, his smile grows and he says: “Do you want me to be on top tonight?”
Wade gasps and blushes.
“How do you do it?” he whines with a huff.
“Magic!” Peter takes off his shirt and jeans and rests upon Wade, both wearing only their boxers, which badly hide their mild erections. He keeps kissing the rough skin, eyes never leaving Wade’s, until the scarred man blushes more and blurts out: “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Sure?” Peter’s smile become broader and Wade snorts, poking his side.
“Sure, honey.”
“Okay.” Peter giggles and takes Wade’s bald head in his hands, slowly kissing him and grinding against him. The other man starts making low, happy sounds and Peter opens his mouth to kiss him better.
“Hey.” he pants after a good kissing session that aroused them and made them sweaty.
“Hey.” Wade whispers, licking his neck, and Peter jolts with a laugh at the sudden ticklish sensation before stopping him for a second and cupping his cheek.
“I love you.” he says and Wade blushes a third time, smiling bright like a sun.
“I love you too.”
Peter presses their lips together again; just a month passed since that fateful day, but it feels like a year and he can’t almost believe their life changed so much, that it became so beautiful just with a simple offer of help. He thinks about the nights spent together, about Wade’s attacks and he thanks God, because Wade doesn’t have those anymore now.
He thinks about the past month and smiles into their kiss, holds Wade tight before starting to prep him, listens to his sweet words and returns them as he fingers him.
And when he slips into him and hears his moans, sees his happy face, feels his strong arms around himself, Peter realizes that everything truly is well, that this is perfect and he wants to stay with Wade forever, forever, forever…
He looks down at him and Wade smiles, strokes his face; Peter kisses the tender palm, his thrusts slower, gentle.
“I love you.” Wade says and Peter smiles back, leans down and whispers against his lips, staring into his eyes:
“I love you too.”
- - -
Three years later
“What should I write on the cake?”
The pastry bag lingers over the round, white dessert and Wade scrunches up his face, thinking. Peter laughs softly next to him and rests his head on his shoulder.
“Write what you most feel like writing. Something you want to tell her.”
“‘I love you and I wanna marry you’?”
Peter snorts, kissing the scarred neck.
“I thought that’s what you wanted to write on my cake.”
Wade blushes, coughs, and mumbles timidly: “Shut up, you silly web-head.”
Peter’s answer is a giggle made right into the crook of his neck and the scarred man smiles as he starts to write the first word, ‘happy’.
“Peter?”
“Hm?”
“Are you happy?”
Peter moves his head from his neck and looks at him with alarm, which slowly turns into calm when he sees Wade’s shy gaze still fixated on the cake. The scarred man is adding the final touches on the glaze - some hearts and stars around the words ‘Happy birthday, Aunt May!’.
“Of course I am.” Peter says with sincerity, kissing him. Then he cups Wade’s cheek, asking: “And you?”
The other man turns his head to look at him and Peter’s heart beats faster with joy when Wade smiles at him.
Wade returns the kiss and answers:
“I am happy.”
And it’s true.