Peter would like to say he was just a regular high school student, but he wasn't. He was a bullied nerd with, like, zero to one friends, which kind of did make him a regular high school student. Still, he was smarter than most of his teachers and he swept the school floors more often than janitor Stan. With his face. Also, he had a stalker.

Wade Wilson was a few years older – old enough to be your father, Luke. Yeah, okay, this wasn't the best time for stupid references; Peter had an actual stalker, the least he could do about it was to take it seriously. Wade was a few years older and he was basically a thug. No he wasn't, Peter was pretty sure he had some kind of semi-respectable job and even an apartment or a corner in a rat-ridden basement. He wasn't a thug, he just looked like one. The first time Peter saw him on the corridor, all scarred, leather-clad walking intimidation, he thought he was dealing drugs. He wasn't, which was undeniably a huge relief to Peter until, that is, he heard the real reason.

"I saw you across the street and followed you here to ask if you maybe wanted to go out."

Peter was unconditionally and irrevocably fucked. Twilight reference seemed fitting, shut up.

"Wade, how many times do I have to tell you?" Peter snapped, stopping in the middle of the stairs and turning around to glare at Wade. "I'm. Not. Interested." He glanced around and noticed some students scrambling for their bags and fleeing the, what they probably thought would be, future crime scene.

"Come on, Petey, if you just gave me a chance-" Wade tried, opening his arms helplessly.

"No. I don't want to go out. Stop following me."

Peter dared to shove Wade away, careful not to accidentally push him off the stairs but make himself clear at the same time. He knew it was safe, Wade proved himself completely harmless so far. Nothing worse than a few slightly embarrassing instances of public humiliation and some ill-fitted gifts. Wade was more of a love-sick puppy than a crazy serial killer, although he was certainly not right in the head. Peter, really? Of all human beings in the world, Peter? Wade must have been crazy. He huffed and turned around, climbing the rest of the stairs.

People gossiped. Peter heard this and that about Wade. All sorts of made-up stories about his scars, about what he did for a living, about his… mating habits. Peter didn't believe any of them. Not because Wade had personally assured him he was actually a good guy deep, deep inside, no. Wade didn't bother defending himself. He said it would be insulting to Peter's intelligence if he were to deny every stupid rumor about him. Which, was kind of flattering. But no. No. That way madness lay. Wade was as much of a sweet-talker as he was a creeper, Peter knew that.

Wade wasn't behind him when he finally reached his locker. He sighed in relief and started opening the locker, nervously glancing around from time to time, just in case. If he weren't maybe he'd have been less surprised when a giant stuffed animal fell on him as soon as the door opened, pinning him to the floor. He thought he could hear Flash Thompson laughing in the distance, but it seemed like the least of his problems.

Peter folded the note he found in his locker and stuffed it in his bag. He considered throwing it out and lighting the trash bin on fire but he also needed evidence for the lawsuit. Let's start by being friends, his ass. Fucking creep. He sat in his chair in Dr. Connors classroom and immediately leaned his head against the desk. When something poked his side he nearly jumped out his seat. He turned around to see Wade sitting behind him, grinning goofily. Peter's eyes widened in silent shock, because what the actual fuck! He turned back and fixed his eyes on the blackboard. What the fuck!

"Psst, Petey. Hey. Pete. I need to tell you something important. Look. Listen. I love you." Peter closed his eyes and took a calming breath. This was decidedly not good. Not good at all. "Hey, Peter, did you know that guy only has one arm? Freaky, huh?"

"Oh my God!" Peter shouted in outrage, turning his head to Wade. "Are you for real?!"

"Is there a problem, Mr. Parker?" Dr. Connors asked, and a few students giggled. "Would you and your friend mind waiting until the end of the class to finish your discussion?"

"He's not my friend!" Peter protested.

"I'm his future husband," Wade added, and the whole class burst into laughter. Even Dr. Connors miserably failed at hiding his smirk. Peter hid his face in his hands.

"Well, regardless of the nature of your relationship, I would appreciate if you'd let me carry on with the class, or I'll be forced to send you both to the principal."

Peter gaped. "He doesn't even go here!"

"Really, Peter, Mean Girls?"

"You shut up!" Peter yelled, jumping out of his chair and grabbing Wade's collar. Wade grinned and his eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam. Peter froze, realizing what he did. He released Wade and stiffly turned around to look at his teacher.

"Mr. Parker. Principal's office. Now."

"But-"

"Now."

"I hope you know this means war," Peter seethed, glaring down at Wade, as he gathered his things and left the classroom.

Peter had never, ever, been sent to the principal's office. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes; this was just so unfair. Wade caught up to him on the hall and touched his arm, which almost ended in Peter elbowing him in the face. He put all the hateful distain he could muster in his glare, and it was surprisingly less difficult than he'd ever thought. He felt so angry.

"I'm getting a restraining order. You better hope I will never see you again. Ever."

When Johhny Storm asked him out, Peter almost swallowed his tongue agreeing. Sure, Johnny was your typical spoiled rich kid type, but he was smarter and kinder than he let on, and he really loved his family. Besides, Johnny seemed to be the only person who knew that Peter wasn't boring. Peter liked hanging out with him because they always did something crazy and irresponsible and he felt like a teenager. So yeah, it didn't really cross his mind before because they were just friends, but Peter would like it very much if they did some other teenage stuff together. Like going on dates. Or making out in the backseat and coming in their pants. So yeah, he really couldn't have said yes fast enough.

Johnny took him to a fancy restaurant which made Peter feel a little uncomfortable. Okay, a lot uncomfortable, and the prices on the menu almost gave him an aneurysm. He didn't say anything, but Johnny wasn't stupid. He winked and asked if Peter would prefer tacos.

He picked a small and quiet taco joint near the Central Park and entertained himself with burning his little napkin-origami while they waited for someone to take their order. Peter couldn't help but feel awkward and a little bit off about all this, but he just assumed it was nerves. He liked Johnny. He wanted to go out with him. He was just nervous. It wasn't like he was forcing himself, right? Why would he?

"What's it gonna be for you, pretty boy?"

Peter froze; at least 60% of the muscles in his body tensed to the point of hurting. He didn't lift his eyes from the menu, but he knew exactly who that snarky voice belonged to. Jesus Christ, of all the places in New York, Wade had to work right fucking there.

"Holy fuck, man!" Johnny laughed. "What happened to your face?!"

Peter cringed, because, really, way to be an obnoxious and insensitive asshole, Johnny. He risked a glance in Wade's direction and saw him glaring at Johnny in disgust. He thought he could see sadness seeping from underneath, but maybe he just wanted to see it there.

"I asked the wrong question," Wade replied pointedly, calmly. "Peter, your order?"

"Wait, you know each other?" Johnny asked. "Oh, Parker, don't pout! This is the most exciting thing that's happened tonight, you can't deny. This may be just the worst date I have ever been on, no offence."

"None taken," Peter mumbled, because it was true. He was forcing himself. He and Johnny just didn't work like that, and it was alright. They were friends. They'd still be cool tomorrow, Peter knew that.

"Don't talk to him like that."

But Wade apparently didn't. Peter startled and looked at him with wide eyes. He glanced at Johnny, who looked like Christmas just came early.

"Ohh, I see how it is."

"You really don't," Peter and Wade said simultaneously.

"Oh em gee, this is just priceless."

"Johnny, drop it," Peter gritted out before looking at Wade. "Wade, is it okay if we order? Or do you want us to go?"

"Doesn't you being here violate my restraining order?" Wade asked with a mean smirk.

"R-restraining order?!" Johnny stuttered, completely awed. "Holy shit, can I watch you guys sort your shit out? This is better than reality tv! Peter, you never said!"

"Johnny, please, you don't want to piss off a guy who has at least sixteen different kinds of knives back in the kitchen," Peter said with a tired sigh. This honestly was the worst date ever.

"Yeah, sure, I get your point," Johnny laughed and patted Peter's back. "I kinda hoped I would at least get a handjob out of this but what the hell – I'm a generous guy."

"Jesus, you're so gross, get out of my face, you jerk."

Johnny laughed again and kissed Peter's hair before ruffling it. "See you tomorrow. Don't think I don't remember it's Aunt May's Muffins Day. You owe me."

"I owe you exactly nothing, assface. You didn't even buy me dinner." Johnny winked and Peter smiled warmly as he flipped him off. He waited for Johnny's laughter to die out as he walked away and finally looked at Wade. If Wade had been paying any attention to them at all he did a great job of hiding it. "Walk with me?"

"There was never a restraining order, you know?" Peter asked, rubbing his hands together. "You do know you actually have to get one for it to be real, right? Not just be told you have one."

Wade shrugged and kept staring ahead. They'd been walking like that for twenty minutes before Peter said anything, and when he finally did, all he got was a shrug. This was going well.

"I liked you from the start, you melt my icy heart," Wade mumbled, stopping. Peter stopped too and looked at him questioningly. Wade shrugged again and looked Peter in the eye. "Just a stupid song I heard on that stupid radio they make us play in the joint. Never mind." Wade bit his lips and crossed his arms. "I really do love you, you know?"

"Wade-"

"No, let me finish. I know I'm- I'm fucked in the head, you know? I know that. But I saw you and I fell in love with you. And I didn't know how else to show you. I- After that- that thing in your school. I felt like part of me was torn out, like a lung or a spine or something. You looked like you have never felt such hatred before. It broke my heart that I made you feel it. I wanted to beg you to stay, you know? But then I realized that you never left. Because you were never mine. I get that. I know I'm not good for you. I just thought- I once believed you would save my soul. Heh. In- in this song, he- he asks "If you saw me now, crying silently, would you hold my hand and never let it go?" and- I guess I'm asking you the same. Just one last shot at this. I love you, Peter. That's all I've got. So. Are you gonna take my hand or tell me to let it go? I will do whatever you want me to. I promise."

Peter looked at Wade's hand, hanging there between them, waiting for Peter to take it. He looked at Wade's face, sad and somewhat peaceful, his eyes closed. He did feel sorry for Wade. He didn't hate him, he wasn't even mad anymore. Wade was just a lonely, broken man who fell in love like they do in the movies.

But Peter was just a teenage boy. He was just a boy who wanted to make out in the backseat. He couldn't - wouldn't -take all of… this on himself. He was just a teenager.

"Let it go, Wade."