1.
It was a quiet night.
For me they tended to be rare, but for once I was sitting on the edge of a building watching the twinkling lights rather than swinging around looking for trouble.
I couldn't see any stars past the pollution but I didn't really mind. Watching over the city I protected (or at least tried to) and just looking at it was almost... meditative.
Maybe it was the finals getting to me, maybe it was the weight of what I do. For some reason I had ended up here without my Spider-man suit: I had left it behind in my dorm. Even if I wanted to go help someone right now, I couldn't.
It left an anxious feeling at the bottom of my stomach, threatening to eat me alive with guilt, but for once I did my best to ignore it and just be in the moment. If I was really desperate, home was only a building away.
And for some reason, just letting myself sit in the here and now felt ok.
So when I heard a thump behind me, it's safe to say I didn't nearly scream. Nor did I turn around too quickly and lose my balance.
That wasn't at all how I ended up with a red and black mask in my face, a hand gripping my shirt so tight it was threatening to rip, and my heart pounding out of my chest while I hung with only one foot connected to the roof, the rest of me out in mid-air.
Nope, not at all.
There was a pause that went on for way too long. It gave me ample time to figure out that not only had I nearly fallen off a roof in civvies, I had been rescued by none other than… Deadpool.
And just when I thought my night couldn't get any better.
It just had to be now while I was relaxed that my powers, for whatever reason, weren't going to work and not tell me there was a certain red spandexed anti-hero behind me .
Ugh.
He was definitely studying me , too. I really wasn't sure what he would see. I mean, at the moment, I was just… Peter. An average looking guy, with boring features that made me blend into any crowd. The nerd who could solve a math question at a glance but couldn't do anything socially to save their life. Maybe he was observing the bags under my eyes? The wide-eyed look I was giving him as I grabbed on to him for dear life?
Wait, I was holding on to his shoulders like we were having- NOPE NOPE NOPE.
You never really knew with Deadpool. Was he oblivious, or playing it up as he stared at you? Was he thinking of all the ways he could kill you or was he about to hug you and squeal about how big of a fan he was? Wait: he wouldn't do that with civvy me... still.
"Uh… Deadpool?" I whispered, not daring to speak above a murmur. What if he startled and dropped me? If he did I would have to use at least some of my powers and then everything would be blown.
This was why I went everywhere with my suit, so that when Deadpool or the villain of the day or other superheroes turned up at least I knew what to say and do. Social things were hard! Spidey just made it easier.
He seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking and pulled me back on to solid ground. I stumbled a bit, keeping my grip on Deadpool's arm as I rebalanced before sitting down.
Why did my legs feel like jelly? I was a superhero who dealt with heights all the time. It definitely wasn't because of Deadpool, nope. I refused to think that. (It totally was because of him… I loved it hated it). It was probably because I had been closer to having my secret identity blown than I had been for... couple days.
Yeah, that was right, because a neighbour had peeked out the window just as I climbed in and man, that had sent my heart rate soaring. But the guy was practically blind and had needed to grab glasses, and by that time I was already inside.
Secret identities sucked...
"What are you doing up here, baby boy?" He asked me, an almost fake cheerfulness to his voice as he rocked back and forth. "Haven't you heard? Heights are a massive killer now-a-days and a cute thing like you should stay well away!"
"Um… I was… I was just-" Words, now was a good time to work.
"How old even are you? Do I need to send you home to your parents?" He interrupted my stuttering, tilting his head in an innocent gesture. I could tell he was still studying me though.
It definitely didn't make my already flushed face get redder. Nope. It was just from the cold...?
"What- no! I'm in college!"
"Sure you are kid, with a face like that one would think you're-" he danced forward, leaning in almost uncomfortably close, "-a dancing queen! Young and sweet, only seventeen~!"
I shoved him away, "Dude I'm twenty-three."
"No one's too old for Abba!" He sniffed, wiping a fake tear out of his eye. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Or rub the back of my neck.
"Do you... do you want something?" I asked, turning around to go stand back by the edge.
He grabbed my arm and I resisted the urge to swat him off. "Woah hold on there kiddo, let's not get on edge now, yeah?"
I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow, "What do you mean by that?"
He seemed to glance between me and the side of the building. "You weren't planning on jumping, by any chance?"
I flinched away from him and he let go of me, "The hell? No! I was just clearing my head."
For once he actually looked ashamed, which made me blink in surprise. I had never seen that from him, not ever as Spider-man. It… it made me want to study him more, like he had been doing to me. Man, now would be a good time to have him unmasked. Then I could look at his eyes, his jawline, his lips, his nose, the way those features shifted and changed when he told a joke- wait, hold up.
"Oh, sorry. Anyway, baby boy, wanna sit down and rock out to some AC/DC?"
He seemed to have bounced back from his shame, at least.
"Eh, why not."
I went to the edge and leaned back, trying to relax again as I had been before Deadpool came along. He, instead of sitting like a normal person, laid down with his head almost in my lap fiddling on his phone. A few moments later "Back in Black" was playing quietly.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I felt almost guilty; of course he would act different around me. I wasn't Spider-man, I was just some kid he had randomly found on a rooftop at night. It would be nice to banter more with him like Spidey and he did, though.
And he was so… quiet. Well, arguably, he could never be quiet quiet. But when compared to his normal Spider-man interactions… yeah, there was a difference.
Why was that?
I tried to get it out of my mind. This line of thinking would only send me into circles. And it would probably be depressing. So I tried to focus back in on my surroundings.
The quiet music helped.
"Hey, do you think the guy who named Uranus knew what he was doing?" Wade spoke up out of the blue, nearly causing me to jump.
...
You know what, nevermind. Deadpool did whatever he wanted to do. I was in no position to try and figure him out like a puzzle.
Why did I want to so much anyway?
"Uh, I don't know. Probably. Did you see that news article about how Uranus 'opens and closes' or something?" I said conversationally.
He tilted his head weirdly so he was looking up at me from his position lying down. "Now there's some scientists, or at least a journalist-reporter-person, who knows how to have a good time!"
2.
It was a few weeks later as I studied for my finals when there was a loud noise behind me. I was on the roof again, trying to find a quiet place to work on everything but...
When I looked back there was Deadpool, standing with a big paper bag in his hands and his arms outstretched like a gymnast after they've done a trick.
"Baby Boy! What a surprise!" He called gleefully as he came over and sat beside me.
I was definitely surprised: I had thought that meeting a couple weeks back was going to be a one time deal. Apparently not.
I… didn't mind hanging out with him again?
I put all my stuff down to the right of me as Deadpool came over to my left. I raised my eyebrow, "Baby boy?"
He cooed, "You don't stare in the mirror enough, you're a one-hundred-percent certified twink!"
I blinked a few times but decided to brush it off, put it in a box and never deal with it. "What have you got in that bag?"
He leaned in closer. "Take a guess."
I hummed. "Chimichangas?"
"You've been talking to Spidey, haven't you!" Oh, had he figured out I was 'Spidey's official photographer?' "Nah, don't tell him but I only like them for their name. It's burgers!"
"Why would I be talking to Spider-man?" I asked, wondering just how much he knew.
"You're his official photographer for the Daily Bugle. Wouldn't you talk to him sometimes?"
"I, um, yeah I guess. On occasion."
Not a lie, really?
He sighed, "Man, I hope we can share a burger in the future."
Why wouldn't he just do what he did with me right now and drop in at some random time? Did he think Spidey would judge him or something? I had thought he and Spider-man were close enough that he would feel safe to talk about anything with me. You would think with how much he talked he wouldn't even care about what Spidey thought.
And wow, I was not two separate people: Spidey was me and I was Spidey. Two sides of the same coin or something.
"Earth to Petey-pie?" Wade said sing-songy, waving the hand with the bag in front of my face.
I blinked. Blinked again. "Wait, how do you know my name?"
He chuckled and shook his head like I had told him a joke. I really didn't want to think about if he had been stalking me, so I didn't ask.
After his giggling fest he grabbed out a burger and we both sat down in the same spot as last time. I determinedly stared off into the city while Deadpool talked about everything from politicians and which ones he really wanted to murder but wouldn't, to his favourite duck species.
I listened, but not too hard because I got whiplash from how often topics changed with him around. You think it's serious one minute, then suddenly he's talking about shoe sizes.
But to be fair he wasn't 'serious' all that often. Maybe once or twice when a big fight had gotten more intense. Other than that, he never was. He seemed more relaxed around Peter me, anyway.
Which was par for the course. Of course the dynamic would change between Spidey and him, and Peter and him.
I didn't want to think about why, but I was hoping that the tension had more to do with stage fright or something. He had said before that Spidey was his idol...
"You know, you're a pretty good listener." Deadpool said after finishing his fifth burger.
I was still on my second, though normally I could be on my tenth by now. I couldn't reveal that I was Spidey, so no bottomless-pit stomachs were allowed right now. Even if it was getting ready to loudly protest that decision.
"... Thanks. It's... you're pretty knowledgeable? I guess? I wouldn't know how to tell an ants gender without you." I stuttered out.
He grinned. "I would have thought you would be more talkative than me."
I frowned, "What? Why?"
He waved a hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it. C'mon, tell me all about whatever project you're doing in college."
"Uh, well it's not all that interesting really compared to some of the other stuff I've done-"
"Baby boy, tell me about those then. I want to get to know you!"
He seemed sincere? Why would he want to get to know me? Should I even worry about his interest in me? Nah, brushing it under the rug and dealing with it later sounded far better.
"Okay, well, um we're focusing on-"
3.
When I went to the laundromat sometime around two or three am one night a week later, I hadn't expected to see a certain masked man fiddling on his phone. Nor did I expect to find him in normal clothes - even if it still covered him from head to toe.
There wasn't any skintight red and black suit visible, except for his mask. It was the only way I figured out it was him in the first place: Deadpool wasn't exactly a popular person to cosplay.
I guess that had made me freeze just a bit too long because Deadpool looked up and we both ended up looking like deer in the headlights.
Well, I couldn't be one-hundred percent certain. He was wearing a mask, but he definitely tensed up.
This was awkward.
So, as usual, ignoring the giant pink elephant stampeding around the room and throwing crap up into the fans, I walked over to the furthest corner away from Deadpool.
Which was only thirty feet from where he was sitting.
Honestly, why couldn't the real estate in here be large enough that neither of us had to watch the elephant trumpet around like a bastard?
"You come around these parts often?" Deadpool piped up, making me startle hard enough to fumble the shirt I had been holding. I gave him a glare for good measure.
"Yeah, turns out I'm a broke college student who can't afford to get an apartment with a laundry room. Who knew?" I said, focusing back on sorting and putting everything into the right washing machines.
"I could fix that!"
"Going to ignore that. Hey, do you have any detergent?" I asked.
A moment later I had to suppress my instincts to whip around and grab the packet out of thin air and instead let it hit my back. I grabbed it before it could hit the floor though and continued to ignore Deadpool.
That wasn't so successful anymore once I had turned both of my machines on. I had nothing to distract either of us.
Which meant he had no reason not to bother me.
"Pass that quiz?" Deadpool asked, sitting on one of the washing machines so he was hovering uncomfortably behind me and swinging his legs around.
"Yep."
"Score?"
"Um, ninety-seven."
"Cool, cool. Did you know that I never went to college?"
"Not surprised."
He made an interested noise when I grabbed out a large textbook from my bag. Before he could ask I explained, "It's just on chemistry."
"Ah, my little nerd, if only you had glasses." He sighed dreamily.
"Yeah, yeah, woe is you. Why are you even here if you're rich?" I asked absently.
He stiffened and I raised an eyebrow. "...Reasons?" He finally said.
"Mhm, hope you're not planning on killing me or something because I won't look forward to washing the blood out."
"Of your clothes or mine?" He said cheekly.
"Nah, the janitor's clothes."
He broke out into loud laughter and I realised I was smiling along with him. "Baby boy! Who knew you were this witty?"
"Your mom did."
He stopped and turned to stare at me, "Seriously? Your mom jokes?"
I shrugged, "I'm running out of material, it's like three am right now I'm too tired for this."
He paused, muttered something under his breath before he seemed to make a decision. He stood up with a determined stride and picked me up bridal-style.
"Wha- hey!" I protested, freezing up too much to push myself out of his arms.
"Don't worry, Baby Boy! You're going home right now!" He proclaimed.
I tried to look over his shoulder as he began to walk out of the place. "Wait! What about my clothes?"
"Don't worry, I'll deal with them. They'll be beside your bed when you wake up!"
I tried not to think too hard about if there was a Spider-man suit amongst my washing, and forced myself to just try and accept what was happening. This was Deadpool after all… but I still wasn't quite sure why it had been so easy to give in.
I decided to blame it on not having to do any more work for the night.
4.
At this point, I wasn't sure why I was surprised.
I had been running towards the villain of the day, camera swinging wildly with each step, when something tugged me back, hoisted me up into the air and over a shoulder, and began running away from the battle with me.
I looked down to see a familiar red clad ass - wait maybe I shouldn't know it well enough to know who it was at a glance. Deadpool was carrying me fireman-style to safety.
Uh, well then.
"Deadpool, what are you doing?" I asked in a calm voice that definitely didn't match my brain that had more or less gone into a blue screen of death.
"Can't let my little daredevil get hurt!" He said cheerfully.
"Believe it or not I don't wear a red skin tight suit with horns," I quipped and he snorted. "Now can we go back? I kinda need money from the pictures so I can eat."
"Don't worry about that, I'll feed you," he said, way too finally for me.
Hi, blue screen of death, did you bring your friend denial along with you?
I shook myself out of my shock. "What if I want to feed myself?"
"Well then I'll supply the money. It's pretty simple really!" He exclaimed.
I took a moment, paused, processed, and then facepalmed. "You want to be my sugar daddy or something?"
"I thought I wasn't being subtle enough, really!"
I drowned out of the rest of what he said, instead just focusing on not thinking about how my suit might be showing because my shirt was definitely riding up on me.
Honestly, why was my life like this?
I never ended up getting to the fight, cause apparently Deadpool knew me well enough by now to lock everything up in the bathroom he chucked me in and I did not feel like breaking public property that day.
+1
At this point I didn't know why I did half the things I did.
I was still Spider-man after all these years even though it had left me dirt poor and closer to death more times than anyone except other superheroes had ever been.
So I didn't know why I was on the same roof I meet Deadpool the first and second time.
And I didn't know why I was in my Spider-man suit.
And I especially didn't know why I had decided to come clean to him about Peter being me and Spiderman being me.
It was loneliness and a longing to actually confide in someone who couldn't die.
Everyone who knew died.
But if he couldn't…
Life would probably find another way to do it.
I would just hope that he wasn't just joking around when he gave me food and helped me with washing. I really missed having friends in my life.
I idly swung my legs as I sat in "Peter's" usual spot. I would probably have my best chance at finding him here, because surprisingly enough, mercenaries tended to be hard to find if they didn't want to be found.
A part of me wanted to endlessly fret over telling him, but mostly I felt numb. Resigned to my choice the same way I was with being Spider-man.
Logically, yes, I could put down the suit at any time and build my way up on an easier path. But that wasn't me: I wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that there might be a person getting shot to death because I wasn't there.
And this decision was just like that. When I saw him, I would tell him.
He might abandon me, he might fangirl, he might do any number of things. I was prepared for it.
Probably.
An hour later after, surprisingly, I hadn't had to save anyone, there was a thump behind me. I glanced back and spotted Deadpool standing there frozen, a paper bag in his hands.
"Hey," I said softly, maybe too quietly.
If he noticed my nerves he did not comment.
"Spidey? What are you doing here?" He asked, slowly approaching me as if he was giving himself time to size me up.
"Hanging out. The usual. Actually, I wanted to talk to you." I quickly said before I could hesitate.
He swooned dramatically, "Lil' ol' me? Oh my!"
I rolled my eyes at his antics. "It's… something important."
That made him sober up and come sit down next to me. "You know I'll help you with anything, right Spidey?"
"Yep." And that was true. He had proven to me more than once that he was willing to listen and act when I asked. I couldn't really see why everyone seemed to hate him so much.
I rubbed at the back of my neck, fingers catching on the mask.
"Um… if I… told you my identity, would you keep it a secret?" I said quietly.
He sighed. "Yes I would, Peter."
…
"Wha-"
"For a superhero as famous as you are, you really suck at keeping it a secret."
"But- you- I-"
He smirked. "You shouldn't do your laundry at a laundromat, some people, like me, might just see some red and blue and connect the dots."
I buried my head in my hands, "I'm a horrible superhero."
"Nah, you're just a dork. A cute dork. A broke dork. One who should move in with me and let me help him up onto his feet." He said, and even through the mask I could tell he was smiling.
I sighed in defeat. "I give up. Sure, why not."
Let's just say someone a few streets over yelled at us because of how loud he squealed.
This was so much fun to write.
Thanks so so SO much to magniloquentChanteuse who motivated me to finish it and made the stunning art! Couldn't have done it without you!
Her tumblr:
Come say hi to me on Tumblr sparkstar-trash or discord /5QTeNY2
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