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Deadpool and Spiderman have it out one night; even worse than usual.
The fight leaves Peter with an obnoxious black eye that spreads over his nose in an ugly mess of red, purple, and yellow. It looks like it's trying to claim the other eye in its discolored trail. At least he's able to walk, although there's a sprained muscle in his leg that hurts every time it stretches.
And, of course, that's the day that Deadpool decides to visit Peter's high school.
Who knows what he was doing there; laying low during a pursuit, creeping on some hot teacher, or stumbling in by accident. Whatever the reason, he was standing down the hall freaking some blond kid out so badly he was almost in tears.
It was probably the katana Wade was weilding; whipping that thing around like a careless idiot would scare anybody. Or maybe it was the merc's build; he was easily twice the size of the biggest football player in their school. But the most likely reason people were staring at Deadpool in terror was the fact that he was carrying on a conversation with the voices in his head.
From where he stood, Peter could hear every word. "Look at all this metal! I know! The zombies woudn't stand a chance against all the bullets we could make melting these lockers down!"
Zombies. Melting lockers. What was wrong with this guy? So high strung...
"Whoa! Young lady, that is a pretty sick backpack! Let me guess, Shein strikes again!"
Peter's shoulders sagged and he wanted to walk into a classroom- any classroom- just to avoid this scene. The sound of Wade's voice made his eye hurt and even though there was no way the other man would know who he was, he still wanted to keep his normal life free of complications.
Too bad Wade moved faster than Peter did.
"Ouch, kid. Who beat the shit out of you?" Deadpool peered down at the brown-haired boy and even though his face was covered, the concern was evident.
Hypocrite, Peter thought, daring to glare up into the mask's eyes. "Nobody."
"Hm." Deadpool's head went up and down and he seemed to be carrying on a mental conversation because out of nowhere he said, "Yeah, those weren't the best of times. Poor thing." Then, directing his attention to Peter again, "If you want me to kick a bully's ass for you just point me in the right direction."
"I can take care of him myself." Gosh, he wished Deadpool would leave already. The other kids were going to think he was even more suspicious. First, the odd facial injury and now talking with Deadpool.
Deadpool leaned his head to one side and angled in to invade Peter's space, making the boy recoil in instinct.
"What?"
"You sound... Have we met before?"
Shit. He knew he should have used voice distortion while in costume. Peter glanced away and said, "I don't associate with super villains."
"I'm not a villain. And you don't seem to be pissing your pants like that freckled kid back there so I can only assume you're used to dealing with some pretty nasty people."
Annoyance narrowed Peter's eyes, making the bruise sting as a reminder, and he turned his back on Deadpool. Probably not the smartest thing he could've done. "Why don't you go rob a bank or something?"
Without warning, his spidey senses went off and Peter spun back around, raising his fists and crouching in a defensive stance. Deadpool's katana gleamed over his head and everyone around them froze.
Wade was also still. "Hey, now," He said, "I'm just putting it away. By the way, nice reflexes you have there. Ever thought about a life of crime? I could use an apprentice."
Releasing a breath he didn't remember holding, Peter stood and felt his face heat up. "Not interested. Sorry." Why was he apologizing?
"Are you sure? It pays extremely well." He's pretty sure there is a smile on the merc's face as the katana slips into its sheath.
"I have a job. Two jobs, in fact."
"At your age? Impressive. You aren't, like, a street walker or anything, right? 'Cause if you are... I mentioned I got paid well, didn't I?"
Peter's face went back to its scowl. "That's disgusting. I'm seventeen, you know." Actually, he turned eighteen two months ago, but this guy didn't have to know that. "And I'm not a street walker." That part was true. Spiderman didn't need to walk when he could use his web-slinging action to get around.
"That's a shame, I'd reserve you for life. Such a cutie!" The normal non-serious Deadpool was back. He reached out to pinch Peter's cheek but his hand was smacked away. Shrugging, the merc said, "Guess I'll catch you later. Money to kill, people to steal. Wait... Well, whatever."
Then the black and red costumed man took off like a shot, whooping and jumping around like Sonic on speed. He braced his hand on a row of lockers, shoved himself over to the other side of the hall, kicked against those lockers, and sailed over a group of frightened cheerleaders. Just before he exited through the front doors, he turned and blew a kiss from two fingers.
Peter knew he had to be winking under that mask.
After a day full of questioning looks and sneers, Peter relaxed on his bed, eyes shut.
He hated that Deadpool had to come along and meet his alter identity under such circumstances. Living in the same city, it was inevitable that they cross paths at some point off the job, but he wished it had happened some other day than this one. His face hurt and he was exhausted from all the crime-fighting yesterday.
Seriously, had all the criminals gotten a memo to go wild at the same time because Spidey had exams to worry about? Funny, how everything had to happen all at once.
He was so absorbed in self-pity, he didn't hear the window open or the light foot step into his bedroom. A shadow crept over the floor and up the blanket to drape over Peter's lower half.
His eyes were still closed.
Then, the shadow moved up as its owner came closer and fell over Peter's face, alerting him to the visitor's presence. His eyes flew open and he sat up, heart beating wildly out of pace as he recognized the intruder's face. Or rather, mask.
It was Deadpool! How the hell did he know where Peter- ugh, he could have easily followed him home! Why, oh, why didn't he consider that before this very second?
"What are you doing in here?" Peter asked, scooting further up on his bed. His muscles were tensed ready to spring into action if the situation turned life-threatening. As it was, sneaking into a high-schooler's bedroom was high up on the Danger list.
"Snarky individuals capture my attention. So I did a little research on you, Peter Parker." Deadpool was calm and just stood beside the bed covered with sea blue sheets like it was the most natural thing in the world to be here.
"I never would have pegged you for a pedo, Wade, but I guess you never really know people." Peter said, letting the other's name slip out before he could help it. Ah, well, it wasn't like that was a secret anyway. It was public knowledge that Wade Wilson was Deadpool.
"No, you really don't. That's true. You really, really don't."
The room fell into an awkward silence and Peter wondered if there was more to those words than he understood but decided the other man was just being himself; as confusing as ever. After a minute or so, the teenager grew impatient. "Is there a reason you came here or was it just to creep me out?"
Deadpool started to answer but stopped. Then he lifted a hand and Peter flinched, going on alert. But the katanas were no longer strapped to the merc's back. In fact, he didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. Any visible weapons anyway.
A single gloved finger signaled that Peter look at Deadpool's wrist and he did, wondering what was going on. "Yesterday," Deadpool said, still pointing, "Spiderman webbed my wrist and broke it in two places."
A combination of guilt and revulsion made Peter wince and he almost apologized but caught the words before they could come out.
He had no idea Deadpool got hurt so badly. During the fight, the other man just kept coming, he gave no indications that Spiderman's punches left much of an impression. It was kind of frustrating, honestly. At least Peter knew his efforts hadn't been ineffective after all.
Deadpool continued, "It's better now because of my healing- never mind. The point is that it hurt. So I kicked him in the face, probably harder than I should have."
They stared at each other in total silence.
What the hell?
The merc spoke sharply, like he was trying to make a point. "Hard enough to leave a bruise."
Oh. It clicked and Peter sat up straighter. He forced a laugh and said, "Are you trying to say you think I'm Spiderman? Not to burst your little detective bubble, but one of the guys on the track team did this to my face. I wish I was Spiderman, maybe then I could get revenge. But, buddy, I'm not superhero material. I mean look at me-"
"I am."
"I'm just a kid for crying out loud!"
"Legally, you're an adult. It was in the background check I ran." Deadpool offered, shrugging. Peter didn't miss the way he used that gesture to hide the small step forward he took.
Even spider senses weren't needed to warn him of imminent danger. "Just a normal guy here, pal. Now, do you want to leave with or without the police escort?"
Deadpool was intimidating whether he had weapons or not. How often did he work out, fuck. He was quiet and the teenager assumed he was zoning out to entertain the voices in his head again. Was he even aware he did that?
Should I try to make a break for it or talk him into leaving?
Aunt May was still downstairs shuffling around in the kitchen. If Peter left, there was no way he could guarantee her safety. Surely, Wade wouldn't try to hurt her just to get at him- or would he?
There was no choice. He had to risk staying right where he was. On second thought, maybe facing the man from somewhere other than a bed would be a good idea. But he would still have to find a way around Deadpool and with those wide shoulders and the incredible bulging arms now planted over his chest, that wouldn't be an easy task.
A deep voice brought Peter back to the current issue. "They're right." Who? "There's only one way to be sure."
"Hey, I'm not doing a strip tease just to prove there's no Spidey uniform under my clothes."
"As appealing as that sounds, it isn't what I was going to suggest, Petey."
Oh, great. Now he had a nickname for him. But it was better than 'Great Assrachnid'. Ew, he wanted to shudder remembering that one. "What do you want from me, Deadpool?"
"Show me your holes."
"Excuse me?"
"You know, what you use to shoot webs? I'm assuming there are holes on your wrists somewhere, so stick 'em out."
Peter squinted to hide his panic and straight-up refused.
Deadpool blinked once and said, "Now."
"No."
"Now or I hold you down and make you."
The other man took another step so he was as close to the bed as he could get without climbing onto it and gave Peter a choice. Admit to being Spiderman now or fight and probably reveal the truth in the process. Great choice. Peter felt stupid for not escaping when he had the chance.
But he couldn't just tell somebody who tried to kill him on a semi-daily basis that his name was Peter Parker and he'd lived here all his life so just drop by anytime. Which is pretty much what would come out of giving up his secret identity. He had to make one last attempt at getting to that window and luring Deadpool away so they could fight this out somewhere far from Peter's only living relative.
But, he knew where Peter lived now. He could come back any time he wanted, day or night. When Peter was gone. When Aunt May was all alone.
Maybe he should kill him?
No, Spiderman doesn't take lives, he protects them.
But Deadpool was a bad guy, did it really matter if he snuffed him?
All lives are the same and it's not like he didn't save innocent people when that lab mutation got out and started attack- Oh my gosh. I'm doing it. I'm doing the crazy voices in my head thing.
Peter growled, angry at his own wandering focus, and confirmed that the window was still open. Regardless of the outcome, there had to be a change of location.
Before he could move a single inch, though, Deadpool muttered, "I don't think so." He lunged at Peter, who was so occupied calculating the distance between the bed and the window that he didn't have time to react. Damn that nerdy part of his brain always making it difficult to be reckless and just act.
Now, the brown-haired boy was flat on his back with one of his most skilled opponents on top of him, pinning him into the mattress.
He was so fucked.
"Okay, sweet tart, let's have a look at those wrists."
One of Deadpool's hands loosened and Peter yanked his free, shoving his palm right up into the red and black mask. It was a move he learned before becoming Spiderman; something about breaking the assailant's nose or whatever. Who cared what it did as long as it bought him time to struggle free.
But he forgot about Wade's constant subjection to pain and was frightened to learn that this did nothing but tick him off. "What the fuck, kid?! Stop playing around before I get rough."
The growl sent chills down Peter's spine and he cursed himself for not staying home from school like Aunt May told him to after hearing the story of how he supposedly got mugged the previous night. This could have been avoided if he just listened to her for once.
Speaking of listening, it was the knowledge that she was only a flight of stairs away that kept him from unleashing a string of curses that would make a sailor cringe. "You know there's an easier way to do this. Just check my room for the Spiderman outfit."
"Nah, I'm not entirely convinced you're not wearing it." Deadpool made sure to catch both of the boy's hands in a tight grip in one hand this time before using the other to pull down the sleeve cuff of his white button-up.
Peter squirmed violently under the merc, trying to stop him or at the very least postpone this as long as possible. Maybe by some twist of fate he could be rescued by... well, anyone.
Deadpool clicked his tongue, losing patience, and squeezed Peter's fingers together in a way that was more painful than he would've thought. The boy sucked in a steadying breath and continued to wrench away.
But, eventually, Deadpool succeeded in uncovering the desired area. Okay, so he resorted to ripping the entire sleeve open up the side but it still worked. He took a slender hand in each of his once more and held the exposed one up to his face. He scanned the pale flesh for any marks or openings.
It was almost microscopic and if you hadn't been looking for it specifically you wouldn't have seen it. There was one on each wrist about an inch below Peter's hand and he heard the soft intake of breath when Wade spotted the tiny slit.
"I'll be damned," He said, "It really is you."
Peter hid his face in the crook of his elbow when a rush of shame hit him. Deadpool knew. He knew his name, his face, where he lived... everything. He was freaking Spiderman and he couldn't stop this psychopathic clown from discovering the most important secret he had. He wanted to cry.
"Hey now, don't look so distressed. It isn't the end of the world or anything."
Was Wade really going to try and comfort him now?
"I can keep a secret! I'm good at keeping secrets, right, boxes? ...Not helping, boxes. Come on, Spidey, I won't tell a soul! My lips are sealed from this moment forth until the end of time. Unless, you know, somebody gets me drunk because I'm a very chatty drunk and I once stole- I mean borrowed Tony Stark's plans for a new missile laser thingy and he made me promise not to tell anyone about it. Well, he didn't really ask, more like he had that super serum guy kick my ass... But anyway, I got drunk and accidently told a bunch of people about it and there was a whole press conference thing and it got blown way out of proportion. But this is different, this is... way more important than that, and you can trust me not to tell anyone. In fact, if someone else finds out just tell me who it is and I'll cut their head open and take the information right out. Because not to be weird or anything, but I like being the only one who knows. I am the only one who knows, right? It wouldn't surprise me if the A-team knew, what with all the spies Fury has working for hi-"
"For fuck sake, Wade, shut up!" Peter looked back at the dark eyes of the mask and felt the heat of annoyance replacing his depression. No wonder he was called 'Merc with a Mouth', he could talk your ear off.
But Peter did feel better for some reason. Deadpool's babbling was too distracting for the feeling of defeat to sink in; was that intentional, perhaps?
Deadpool shifted his weight from the knee between Peter's legs to the one near the edge of the bed. "So... sorry about your face."
Oh, he'd forgotten about that, too. As if on cue, his cheek stung with a twinge of pain. "Ow."
Deadpool's mask came closer. "Should I kiss it better?"
His cheery voice had Peter's eyes rolling. "That would be a no."
"You sure? I've heard great things about the healing powers of love!"
"I'm very sure. Can you get off now?"
"Not without some foreplay." Peter tested the merc's grip and found it wouldn't give. "Get it?" Deadpool sounded like he was grinning again. "Get off? Foreplay?"
"You don't think ripping my shirt off was enough foreplay? I'm expecting a much more expensive shirt as compensation, you know."
"Can do. And don't give me the size, I wanna see if I can guess it right."
Peter aimed his guarded brown eyes at the window. "...Are you going to move at any point within the next few hours because it's going to get drafty."
"You know what they say about cold and nipples."
"I don't want to know."
When Deadpool didn't have an immediate comeback Peter hoped he was ready to leave. But, no.
"Damn, I bet you're sexy when your face isn't boot mush."
Despite what Peter said about the room getting cold, he felt warm and could only attribute it to the additional body heat radiating through him from the man less than a foot away. If Deadpool wasn't wearing a mask and if he was a little closer, they would be close enough to kiss. That's an awkward thought.
"So, are you wearing the Spidey clothes under these?" Releasing Peter's hand, leather-covered fingers edged at the torn sleeve, searching for the trademark red webbed fabric. He didn't know Peter kept the sleeves rolled up as far as possible to ensure no one caught a peek by accident.
As he sought out a trace of the tight-in-all-the-right-places outfit, Deadpool's fingertip brushed the indention in Peter's wrist that served as confirmation of his hero identity. Tingles swept down the boy's arm and he twitched.
Deadpool forgot all about his current task when he heard the needy sound slip out of Peter's mouth. "What was that?" He asked, voice raising a decibel in excitement.
"You- The shirt tickled my elbow." There was no way he was going to give Deadpool another of his deepest secrets. That secret being the strange thrill that came from direct contact with his spinnerets. If he had to compare it to something, it was unnervingly close to the same rush he felt when... doing... certain things. And he definitely wasn't telling Deadpool that!
"No one has a ticklish elbow, Spidey. Come on, be honest, those holes are like G-spots on your arms, aren't they?"
Peter tried to break his other hand free while pushing up on the other man's chest. "You're such a freak, Deadpool."
"Compliment duly noted." His thumb ground into the extra sensitive skin and heat flooded Peter's groin. He couldn't help arching and barely bit back a groan of pleasure. They both stopped and stared; Deadpool gaping at Peter and Peter blushing at the wall.
Finally, the merc said, "Fuck, that's kinky." He pressed again and Peter outright moaned.
"C-Cut it out!" He had to keep his voice down, Aunt May was still in the kitchen. Trying to smother his next groan, he buried his face in his arm again.
"You are eighteen, I checked."
"What does that have to do with anything?!"
"I'm assuming this is some kind of weird spider sex thing. Plus, I would have felt bad if I'd spent more than a few nights jerking to a minor's ass."
"Deadpool-"
"Call me Wade."
"Why- ahhhh..." Peter shivered when Deadpool massaged both wrists at once and tossed his head back, letting the rush of pleasure threaten to drown him.
There was a shuffle on top of him but he was too dizzy now to care. From beside his ear, a noticeably rougher voice purred, "Peter." Oh, that was why. He wanted them to use their real names and make this that much more embarrassing when Peter thought about it later. Fantastic.
His arms were still pinned above his head and the merc's body wasn't touching his anywhere else, but Peter felt himself get hard. He wiggled down further on the bed until he found Deadpool's muscular thigh positioned between his legs. Using his feet to create leverage, he lifted his hips and rubbed against the solid man, creating friction where he needed it most.
He heard a choked gasp and Deadpool muttered, "I knew this was a spider sex thing."
Covered fingertips grazed the soft skin and Peter had to bite his lip to keep from begging for the gloves to come off. It was disappointing to find out he lost his self control this easily at the mercy of lust. But this was his first time being touched by another person like this and something about the unyielding masculinity of the other man was intoxicating. As much as he hated it, this felt so right there was no way he could stop.
Something hard pressed into his leg and he realized that Deadpool was hard, too, and doing the same thing with his hips that Peter was. If he moved to the side a bit, they could grind their erections together. Did Peter have to say that out loud or would Wade get the hint if he spread his legs open wider?
Peter wrapped one leg around the other man's waist and used the other to nudge the leg closest to the edge of the bed. He rolled his hips up, just seeking release no matter the cost to his pride.
Deadpool understood and adjusted his position, then reached down to guide Peter's other leg up to his waist as well, where the boy's heels locked and pulled their bodies closer. Their hips worked in unison and Peter tried not to give it a lot of thought to the fact that he was humping the man who'd been trying to steal the city's most precious gem for the black market last night.
The hands on his arms disappeared for a moment and Peter opened his eyes, uttering a desperate whine. The sight of Deadpool tearing off his gloves like they disgusted him made Peter grin. The gloves were thrown across the room and the feeling of bare skin on skin sent electric shocks shooting from Peter's web spots to the tips of his toes.
He started to cry out but clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes again, lost in the fever rush that came when Deadpool's fingernails flicked over the flap of skin gently. "Fuuuck, Wade." He barely recognized his own voice.
Cool air replaced the strong grip on his right arm but returned while Peter was distracted by a slow thrust of the merc's hips that sank into his body like this was the only reason for living. Something about not being able to overpower the man on top of him was exciting in its own right, but when coupled with the intense new pleasures he was receiving, it was overwhelming for the teenager.
He could feel pressure building in his lower abdomen and knew he was close. His movements became quicker as he chased the feeling and Deadpool rode into him with a similar urgency.
The Spiderman suit trapped heat against Peter's slick body and made him feel like he was burning up from the inside out, turning to molten lava in his skin. But nothing had ever felt better than this.
Every breath was a hushed moan and the repetitive stroking on his wrists created a delightful over-sensitivity that set his nerve endings on fire. He was fully engulfed in the flame of lust now, sharing its fire with the man on top of him whose own breaths held Peter's graveled name.
He just needed something- something extra- to push him over the edge. He was so very close, anything would do it. A nip at his ear or a pinch at his nipple. He would have done it himself if Wade permitted his hands to move; but the man held fast.
Suddenly, there was hot breath coasting over his lips that wasn't his own and his mouth was claimed by a kiss with more intent and passion than any he'd gotten before.
The fire stoked between them burst forth and seared Peter with its raw intensity. Wade's tongue caressed his and swept over the roof of his mouth and that was all it took.
Peter jolted when he came, rising up into the other man's body and moaning under his lips. White ribbons shot out from beneath the merc's thumbs in reflex and hit the wall behind Peter's head.
Deadpool broke the kiss, panting, and thrust two more times before he came, too, with a growl that made Peter bare his neck in a gesture of submission he didn't understand. Deadpool accepted the presented throat with a soft bite and sucked until he left a flushed pink mark. He came off the skin with a pop and they gasped to catch their breath while coming down from the high of climax.
"Damn, Spidey," Wade finally said, angling his face up to inspect the webbing on the wall, "Does that happen every time?"
Peter ducked his face to hide the blush he wore and whispered, "Not when I do it by myself."
Deadpool's mouth quirked up in a grin. "Sexy as hell..." He said, then planted another kiss on the embarrassed teenager.
"Wade, please. About my secret identity-"
"I won't tell anyone who you are. I swear on my life. And to make us even, I'll show you where I live, too! And tell you all my weaknesses- Heads up, a certain web-shooter with a great ass is at the very top of the list."
Peter smiled in spite of himself and reached up to brush the other's imperfect cheek. "Will you take off your mask, too?"
There was a pause but Wade conceded. "If you promise not to freak out. ...I am really, really sorry about your face."
Reaching up, the teenager said, "It's fine. I can tell it's healing already." The merc moved so quick Peter would have missed it if he blinked. Before he could react, he was wrapped in a suffocating hug and the masked face was nuzzling his neck.
"Just tell me to stop next time and I will. Right then. Promise."
Peter patted Deadpool's head. "If you stop doing bad things, I'll give you rewards."
He fought a smile when the other man raised his head and said, in a suspicious voice, "Rewards? What kind of rewards? The fun kind?"
"If that's what you want."
"Um... just so we're all on the same page, I'm not blackmailing you. You're actually volunteering this, right?"
"Yeah. But you still have to show me where you live so we're even."
"I'll show you right now. and you can give me an example of these 'rewards'."
They kissed again and the voice in Peter's mind was sure he had no idea what he was getting himself into. The man exploring the inside of his mouth stirred up mischief like it was his only job in the world; to be fair, it probably was. But Peter had no choice when it came to trusting him. Shouldn't he be more reluctant or resentful?
Instead, he wanted to trust Wade. He wanted to know he could trust him and confirm that much at least.
But more than that, he wanted to explore this side of Wade. He never knew kissing someone could feel so wonderful, sweet and demanding at the same time, and he wanted to get closer. There was plenty of time to overthink this later, right now there was fun to be had.