There was Loki, and an explosion, and shitload of pink goo. When Peter woke up, he and Wade were girls. That's it. That's the story.

Deadpool was gleeful about it. Of course he was. He was dancing in the goo, cackling at how his boobs were bouncing. Peter was on the verge of tears. Probably a girl thing. Ekhm.

"Oh man, we're chicks! We are actual females! My pants feel so light! But my chest and back! Oh man! Hey Peter, can I touch your boobs?"

"You most certainly may not!"

"Sourpuss. It's no big deal, I have my own! Ahaah! They feel awesome! Come on, touch them!"

"You act like you've never touched a boob before. Would you be serious for five seconds?!"

"Geez, calm your tits! Ha, get it? Man, this is awesome! Why do I feel like you don't think it's awesome? Aren't you excited about getting in touch with your female side, Peeta?"

"I am not a Hunger Games character, Wade! I'm still Peter! Now stop this before the Avengers get to debrief us and Hawkeye twits seven hundreds of our pictures he'll take as soon as he spots us. Let's find Doctor Strange, he'll know what to do."

"Okay, but you will call me Wilma. She was my favorite member of Scooby-Gang."

"I'd sooner die."

"What got your panties in the twist? Wait, did your underwear actually change too or are you still in these baggy ugly things you usually wear under your suit, coincidentally defying laws of physics while you're at it?"

"How the hell do you know what underwear I usually wear?!"

"I read a lot of comic books."

"Wh- Ugh, never mind. And why would you even ask me that? You should know if you're wearing panties right now."

"Yeah, but I was wearing panties before, that's why I'm asking you."

"Oh my god."

Peter's legs gave out underneath him. He seriously wanted to cry. This was too much on its own, but to experience this, this nightmare with Deadpool of all people! Peter would probably end up even a bigger basket case than Wade by the end of it all.

"What's wrong, girl, are you having cramps?"

Peter's eyes widened and he was taking a swing before he could control himself. He punched Wade right in the face, now softer around the edges. He stifled his momentary guilt and stood up, hovering over crouching Wade, clutching at his cheek.

"I can't believe you just hit a lady."

"Do you think this is funny? Are you having fun, Wade? Is this a joke to you? What a joy it must be not to have anyone to explain this shit to, huh? No family, no friends, no one! What about me? I have a life! I can't stay like this!"

Wade's eyes went hard and cold instantly. He stood up and fixed his clothes, wiped some goo off is face, straightened out his back. He shoved Peter out of his way with an ugly twist on his mouth.

"Where do you think you're going?! We were supposed to go to Doctor Strange!"

"Yeah, I heard you. Doesn't mean I'm going to hang out with a bitch like you. I like having no one by my side when I fix my problems. See you later. Preferably much later."

Wade was gone before Peter could react. Stop him, apologize, explain, anything. Wade was right, Peter was being a bitch. He wasn't thinking, he just wanted to vent. He couldn't stand the thought of staying like that. He'd have change schools, find a new job, explain to all his friend, to Aunt May, how he'd been hiding his secret desire to change sex all this time! He'd have to buy tampons! He was over-thinking, obviously. He didn't know for sure they wouldn't get back to normal, but he panicked! And Wade was taking it all so lightly, like it didn't change a thing in his life, while it changed everything in Peter's! He didn't think Deadpool would be so easy to hurt. Which was awful and insensitive, he was a human being for fuck's sake, of course he would be hurt.

Peter sighed and put his mask back on. He needed to worry about finding Doctor Strange now. He'd worry about his fragile more-than-acquaintances-less-than-buddies relationship with Deadpool later.

Wade wasn't sulking. He was brooding. He might have been a girl, but he was still manly as hell. He'd be manly in a cheerleader outfit. He had been manly in cheerleader's outfit. And sexy. He wasDeadpool! He could pull it off. Remember Milla Jovovich as Alice? Her thighs were something everyone wanted to find themselves between, but also very much away from them, because they were deadly. That's what Deadpool was. Milla Jovovich thighs – beautiful and terrifying. And nothing that Spider-Girlcould say wouldn't change that. He didn't know shit. Wade would have had to explain. But his friends were obviously better than Petra's. Bob would love Wade no matter what, dick or no dick. He could have makeovers at sleepovers with Inez. Weasel would even maybe perhaps try to bone him or at least cop a feel. Blind Al wouldn't even notice, because, hello, blind. Simple – better friends. Being a girl wasn't the end of the world; Wanda was doing okay. She wasn't as badass as Wade, obviously, but still pretty damn close.

Wade watched Peter frantically explain things to Good Old Steve-o from his spot on the roof. Doctor Strange was nodding understandingly, eyes closed, brows furrowed. Wade considered getting down there and having it done and over with, but he didn't feel like talking to Spider-Woman. He wasn't sulking, though.

"Why won't you come down, Mr. Wilson, and we will talk about your current predicament."

A giant astral head was suddenly right in front of Wade and the shriek that escaped him probably shuttered some windows. High girly voices, damn them! Wade composed himself and huffed.

"Can't I wait my turn? Give Spidey over there his pill after and then call me. Sounds great, huh? Less crowded."

"I am afraid this situation can be remedied only if both of you are present and accounted for."

"That's what I was afraid of. Norse gods, eh. Gotta love 'em."

"Indeed. Come. We will be waiting in my office."

"You have an office? Cool."

"I am a doctor, you know."

Wade snickered and followed the giant astral head. When he entered even more giant and not so astralchamber of Doctor Strange, his voices had to remind him to close his mouth. He saw Peter's hand freeze halfway to his arm when Wade was passing him, but something in Wade's aura must have tipped him off. Peter withdraw his arm and bit his lips, a critical hit double-cuted by Peter's newly acquired girlishness. Wade seriously had a problem. Not that he didn't think Peter was cute as a guy, but, damn, these lips were ridiculous now.

"Wade…"

"Don't sweat it, sister, we're cool. Now let's get down to fixing our junk. Some people in the room are allergic to bras, so we'd better hurry. I'm all ears, Doc, even my boobs are listening. Look how they perked up."

Doctor Strange did his best not to grimace and Wade grinned smugly. Old bastard was holding back because Wade looked like a girl! Wade would show him a girl! He burped and scratched his butt, like he always did when he was a guest, and he slumped down in the chair bigger than most of the beds he slept in. He inhaled sharply and laughed insincerely.

"Phew, what a stench! Sorry, I had a suspicious taco on the way here. So. You were saying how we go back to normal, Hentai-sensei."

"Actually, I was not. I do not know yet. Peter was sensible enough to bring me a sample of the matter you were coated with before the obvious results came to be, and-"

"Whoa, hold your horses, Stephanie Meyers. You said it would work only if both of us were here together, so I assumed you already had a cure?"

"Ah, yes, I might have purposefully mislead you, in order to ensure your presence here. I do not know the remedy yet, but I am a genius, mind you, so it should not take long. Until that, I require both of you to stay here. Loki does not do anything without a reason, no matter how twisted. It would be for the best if you remained here together under careful watch."

"So what you're saying is, we're grounded because we are girls. That's sexist. And medieval. You're keeping us locked up just in case Loki decides to knock Peter up and fill the world with alien-Norse spider-mutant baby-puppies. Or something. I bet I was an accident. Again. Look at my life, Doctor S., look at not my choices."

Peter wanted to protest, because hell no, there would be no insemination whatsoever and how did Wade even come up with such ridiculous idea. But he stayed silent. He'd said all he had to say before. And Wade clearly didn't want Peter's input. Peter would normally ignore anything that kept him from speaking his mind but he didn't feel like himself. He literally wasn't himself. Besides, unlike Wade, he didn't feel the need to question Doctor Strange, he trusted him to change them back. Unlike Wade, he didn't want to leave this place as a woman. He was safer here.

He absentmindedly scratched his left breast and shuddered. God, it felt so weird. How could Wade be so… unaffected by this? Peter kept worrying about everything. What if some changes were irreversible? What if his powers were messed up too? What if he was a virgin again? What if his new vagina had fangs? What if he had to pee and forgot to sit down?

"Well, well, Peter, I must say, I like the way you think."

No, please, no. Not listening to his mouth was even worse than his mouth not listening to him. He could feel himself going seven different shades of red. Wade was grinning at him as if Christmas came earlier. Even Doctor Strange was trying to hide his smirk, poorly at that. He wanted to clear his throat, but he squeaked. Wade laughed so hard he fell off the chair.

"I am certain you would be aware of your reproductive organs having fangs, Peter, but if you wish, I-"

"No worries, Doctor Quinn, I'll take a look at Peter's muffin. I'll deflower him too, if needed. Oh man, I haven't laughed this hard since I realized how short Wolverine is! And I haven't laughed that hard since I imagined The Hulk and The Thing having sex! Ahahaha! This day couldn't possible get any better!"

This day couldn't possibly get any worse.

Wade still had tears in his eyes when they were walking to their room. They had to share a room! Half an hour ago, Wade would kill to avoid that, and he killed for much less. But now, now he saw it as an opportunity! He was far from hoping for makeover at sleepover, and he knew it was out of Peter's hands, but they still would spend time together. Wade would like that. Not just because he had a hopeless crush on Peter or because he was curious how Peter would handle being a girl. He just wanted to hang out with Spider-Man and brag about this later. A man's gotta aim for the stars!

"So what are we gonna do around here, Pete? Do you think there will at least be a TV in there? A mini bar?"

"It's Doctor Strange's house. I'm pretty sure if we just wished hard enough for an X-Box it would be in the room. What are you doing?"

"I'm wishing for a kick-ass gaming room. Hard."

"I can see that. Stop it or you'll lose all your hair. Or eyeballs."

"Aw, I knew you cared, baby b- girl- boy. Peter."

"It's okay. I'm over my initial shock. There's nothing to do but wait so I might as well let you have your fun. As a form of… apology. Because I am sorry. I didn't meant the things I said. I was upset and confused. I- I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright Miss Parker. I forgave you as soon as I pictured Blade storming this castle to defeat your vampire pussy."

"That's me – unintentionally hilarious…"

"And adorable and pretty and smart. Don't forget smart. You remembered to bring goo to Stevie Wonder, I jumped into the sewer as soon as I could."

"You did what?"

"Nah, I'm kidding, I took a shower at your place."

"Wh-"

"Oh man! Wishing worked! A gaming room and a mini bar! Spider-Man vs. Deadpool?"

"Ugh. You're on."

Peter wasn't drunk enough to call them best friends, but he was sure they were no longer just more-than-acquaintances-less-than-buddies. Deadpool was fun and comfortable. He just was. Despite Wade's horrible innuendos and Peter's general discomfort caused by being a girl, it was one of the best evening he had in a long time.

Wade wasn't drunk enough to tell Peter they were soulmates yet. But they totally were. He was stupidly happy, disgustingly so. He couldn't help it. Peter was fun and comfortable. Wade couldn't tell that about many people in his life. He couldn't say that about anyone. It was the best evening in Wade's life.

Peter obviously won. At everything. Because he was a winner. And Spider-Man. And a bit drunk. And tired. After drying off the mini bad and regaining feeling in his fingers, he decided to inspect himself in the mirror. He was down to his boxers and a baggy t-shirt he'd found on his bed. He scratched his thigh, feeling the hairs on it.

"Why do girls shave?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

Peter cupped his breasts and weighed them. They were kinda small but nice. He hooked his thumb behind the waistband of his boxers but he changed his mind. Not with Wade in the room. Not with a possibility of finding fangs there.

"I'm bored. I'm gonna do some muffin buffin' now."

"WHAT?!"

"You know. Let the fingers do the walkin', polish the pearl, pet the pussy cat. No? Still nothing? Carpet-bumping, finger-painting, pearl-fishing? Masturbating?

"No!"

"What? Don't tell me you're not curious. I guess it's kinda like playing with your butt, but not really? I have to know."

"Take your hunger for knowledge somewhere else then. Don't you dare touching yourself while I'm in the room."

"Why? Afraid you might like it?"

"No. I know my job description, but privately I'm not into voyeurism."

"Wanna fool around then?"

"What?"

"Come on, you must know I've had hots for you since forever, so you know I'm not offering just because you suddenly have boobs."

"Are you actually serious right now?"

"Like a heart attack. Come on, don't you want a piece of this?"

"No!"

"Why not? Scared it'd turn you on too much?"

"I wouldn't worry about you turning me on, Wade."

Wade could feel all the air leave his lungs. Wow, harsh. He thought that alcohol would loosen Peter's tongue a bit. That he could do a little recon. That he'd find out where to draw the line. He didn't mind putting himself out there when he knew it was worth the risk. But he didn't expect that. Hi, reality. How are you? Me? Oh, same old, same old. Just laying here, all unattractive to Spider-Man, even as a girl.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure you didn't, Spidey. Don't worry about it, I've been called worse. Believe me."

"No, Wade. I'm serious. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. I meant-"

"It doesn't matter, alright? Just go to sleep."

Listening to Wade jill off did turn Peter on.

The morning greeted them with sensational news. New York Stranger found out how to cure them but he needed a couple of days to gather all the things necessary for the anti-spell. Great. Wade was ecstatic. He truly was. As soon as they were alone, Peter grabbed Wade's arm.

"Can we talk?"

"Talking is what I do best! What do you wanna talk about? Fashion? Make-up? Boys?"

Peter looked just as deflated as Wade hoped he would. Contrary to popular belief, Wade could take no for an answer. But he didn't appreciated being led by the nose.

"Why do you have to be such a dick?"

"Because I miss mine. I compensate. Anything else?"

"Why won't you let me explain?"

Something in Wade snapped. Peter sounded so desperate, like he really wanted to make things right. And the thing was, he couldn't. He just couldn't, and Wade intended to make it clear, to make it easier on both of them.

"Explain what? Look, Peter, I like you, but not as much as to cry and cut my wrists over the fact you don't like me back. No matter what you say, the conclusion is the same. You didn't mean to say it in such an rude way? Doesn't change the fact you think I look disgusting. You didn't mean that you find my appearance revolting? Doesn't change the fact you don't like it. It has nothing to do with how I look? Doesn't change the fact that there is something else about me that puts you off. It's not the right time? Well in the right time, I have a dick. Look, it' no big deal, I had to try. I'm a girl now, and that's the closest I could ever get to your tastes. And still, no luck, the fundamental fact remains. You. Just. Don't. Like. Me. Like. That. So save it, I'll get over it. I'm a grown up."

Wade didn't wait for his words to sink in. He lifted his chin proudly, fixed his boobs, and walked away. Like an adult.

"And my milkshake is bigger than yours!"

Well. Almost.

Peter really wanted to give Wade space, but every single fucking corridor led to their room. It was extremely rude and professional of Doctor Strange, he couldn't help but feel respect and resentment in equal proportions.

He didn't know what to do. What could he do? Apologize? Explain?

He wondered what Wade was doing. Sulking? Playing video games? Playing with his new body? Peter hated how hot the thought made him. It was an attractive body. Strong, lean, agile. Marred with history. He wondered how it would feel under his fingers. If his hands could elicit the same sounds he had heard last night.

He felt tingly and uncomfortable and his hands were not his own in more than one way. He really shouldn't have been thinking about Wade. Why would he?

"I can hear you thinking over there."

He shrieked, because one second he was sitting next to the wall with his arms around his knees and the next there was Wade leaning against the doorframe, looking at him impatiently.

"Come on, I want a re-match. At everything. There's no more booze though."

Peter nodded and followed Wade into the room. His hair were tied on the top of his head, revealing a long scarred neck. Peter swallowed and closed the door behind him. Wade sat down, cross-legged, controller in hands, eyes onto the screen. Peter didn't like it.

He sat down next to Wade. Their hands brushed when Wade passed him the controlled. No, he didn't drop it. He didn't even shudder. It was not electrifying. It didn't change Peter's world. It was just nice. Nice like something you would like to feel more often. Comforting. Made Peter smile. Then Wade scratched his boob and sniffled, cracked his neck and cleared his throat. He sniffed his armpits and bend down to do the same to his feet and between his legs. He was terrible at being a girl, honestly.

"I don't smell. It's unnerving. Not even a whiff of gunpowder on me. I hate it. I'm starting to see where you were coming from at the start."

Wade's voice a bit high but steady, cold. Like everything he was saying carried no meaning at all. Just automatic talk, a farce. He didn't even glance at Peter, not even once, not even in passing. Peter didn't like it at all.

"We're just gonna play video games all day?"

"Yup. Well, that or, you know, have crazy hot noncommittal lesbian sex, whatever, I'm open to suggestions, just say the word."

He hated it.

"You know. I had a crush on Flash Thompson before he started to beat me up as a hobby. I made out with Johnny Storm once or twice. Or six times. Who's counting. I would probably do many immoral and illegal things to sleep with Captain America and Iron Man, just like the rest of the world."

Wade froze. They were lying in their beds, his back were turned to Peter, so he wouldn't see his face and get stupid ideas. Just like last night. He wanted to grieve his unfulfilled love that had just died by Peter's words. But he couldn't. He thought about Peter and he couldn't control himself. That was what having Peter so close meant for Wade. He didn't want that again. He didn't turn around. He laid still, even after he felt the edge of the mattress dip under Peter's weight.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to murder you in your sleep, dumbass, what do you think I'm doing?"

"Well, whatever it is, stop it. I can and I will kill you if you don't."

"Shut up and scoot over. We're girls, let's talk feelings."

"How are you drunk? There wasn't any booze left."

"I'm not drunk, I swear."

"I don't care. I'm serious, Peter, go back to your bed."

Peter got under the covers and Wade could feel his small cold feet against his calves. Peter snuggled closer but didn't try to embrace Wade. He kept his hands against Wade's back, not moving, just resting.

"So, where was I? Ah, right. So it's not about you being a girl or a guy. It doesn't really matter. You're fine either way. You're beautiful either way. These scars? They're just another part of you, like your ears. They're there, and they have an important function, but it's not really that big of a deal what they look like."

"Stop it."

"I think you're a good person. I see that you're trying. I really do. You fuck up like everyone else. Well, maybe more often than most people, but that's alright. You never stop trying. You're funny, but mostly unintentionally. You're not really that funny when you want to be. But that's alright too. I like you, Wade. You're difficult and crazy and you kill people for a living, oh my god, but you're not unlikeable. So I like you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I hated how you were today. I hate how you are when you hate yourself because you think everyone else hates you."

Wade wasn't crying. He was too stunned to react in any way. He felt too hot. And not in a good sexy way either. Not even in the nice fluffy butterflies way. He felt suffocated, pushed and pressured from every direction. He wanted Peter's tiny body out of his bed, because at that moment, it was bigger than life. But he couldn't move. He couldn't even speak.

"Can I touch you?"

Wade shut his eyes as hard as he could and focused all his will into keeping himself from shuddering. He wanted to say no. No, he wanted to say yes. He knew he should have wanted to say no. Peter's soft hand crept from its place on Wade's back up to his shoulder blade and down his bare arm. Both of them sighed. Peter tangled their fingers together and shuffled a bit closer, nosing his neck.

"Is this alright?"

Wade nodded. It really was.

"I didn't know. That… you wanted me. I'm. I'm not really good at this. I'm kinda oblivious to be honest. I was never popular, so I didn't have much practice at reading people's intentions. And you know, last week you flirted with a park bench. Your intentions are particularly hard to read. I just didn't know. So it was about the timing. Because last night I was confused and I didn't know and I fucked up. I'm sorry."

Peter leaned and kissed Wade's shoulder. Just a short dry kiss, a touch of lips on a patch of skin. But it carried promises that weren't meant to be made. Not now, not like this.

"How do I know it's not because I'm a chick now and it's your inner white cis male talking? How do I know it's not because Loki impregnated you with evil alien seeds of horniness when I was playing video games?"

"You don't."

"Then I don't want it."

Peter was tensed behind him and didn't say anything. Wade regretted his words already. He wasted his only chance. This was so like him it wasn't even funny. But he wanted so much. So much more than Peter could give him at that moment. It would be like buying the best taco in the universe and taking just one single tiny bite before the whole planet exploded. That's what giving in then would be like.

Peter sighed. It wasn't an irritated or a frustrated or even a disappointed sight. It was sleepy and content.

"Alright. Yeah, alright."

Peter woke up alone. The sun was blocked by heavy curtains. There was a vial at the nightstand with a post-it-note saying: "Drink this and leave immediately or I will send you the bill for the supplies. SS." Peter smiled.

Wade didn't try to find Peter after that. He figured both of them needed space. Peter – to sort his business as Spider-Man and as an Avenger – Wade – to crush his hopes and expectations, just in case, just to the bearable level.

They met by accident. They were chasing the same guy. Wade joked that he'd give up on his bounty for a date.

"I told you you're not that funny when you try."

"You also told me I never stop trying."

Peter was tracing scars on Wade's naked back and it felt nice. He was pleasantly tired, the burning ache in his muscles was more than welcome. The sex was… there wasn't even a word in any dictionary to describe the sex.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I think you underestimate yourself, baby boy, my brain isn't working yet."

"See, that was funny."

"Does that still fall into the 'unintentionally funny' category or is it 'only funny when brain-damaged' now?"

"I didn't damage your brain, Wade."

"I don't know, I mean, I hit the wall with my head at least six times tonight. Which reminds me, I had a thought somewhere between third and fourth hit. But I can't remember what it was."

"Hm… 'Oh sweet lord in heaven, Peter, yes, harder' perhaps?"

"Hey, I thought we talked about respecting me in the morning?"

"It's not morning yet. And I'm not making fun of you. It was hot."

"Peter! Peter, stop! Stop, I remembered!"

"Are you- are you being serious right now?"

"Like a heart attack! Or at least slow down, man, I have to ask now before you pound it out or-"

"Fine. What."

"Why did you say I shouldn't worry about me turning you on?"

Peter froze mid-trust and looked down at Wade with horror. He didn't just seriously asked that. Peter had to figure some excuse, and fast, because there was no way in hell he could tell Wade the truth. He swallowed under the weight of Wade's suspicious stare.

"No! Time's up! No excuses, the truth! What did you mean when you said it?"

"I meant that there was no chance of me thinking about sex because…"

"Go on, Petey, it's a judgment-free zone here, you can tell me."

"There was no way I could get turned on because I kept thinking… I, uh… I kept thinking about…"

There was no way out. Wade was watching him expectantly and Peter couldn't take it. He covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath before finally blurting it out.

"About my vagina having fangs!"

Soulmates.