Sometimes it took a lot to not cave in to the voices and just start a random un-aliving spree. He had been told most emphatically that if he were to ever give in to that temptation that he would be locked away in a deep dark hole and no- he wouldn't be allowed tacos. Ever. The merc had shuddered at that horrible thought. What was a life without tacos?

Deadpool shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he scanned the rooftops with a pair of night vision binoculars. Whistling under his breath, a jaunty tune that had he been paying attention he would have realized was about his prey. It was cold but that didn't bother him. Not much ever did. People had called him psycho for it and very few people understood that it was how he kept his grasp on his last remaining tendril of sanity. He reached into a paper bag at his side without lowering the glasses and pulled out a bean burrito. It had long since gone cold and congealed but he didn't mind. He set aside the NVGs and ate, sitting perched on the edge of a building with his long legs dangling over the side.

Spiderboy was out there somewhere, flinging his webs and that sexy, sexy body between buildings, obvlious to the real threat that was currently feeling the sharp discomfort of regret-

"From eating too many burritos. The beans were not a good idea." Deadpool grumbled, lifting a buttcheek up from the cold cement to let out a horrendous fart.

-from eating a congealed mess of beans and beef from a questionable establishment.

"It seemed fine to me." He shrugged.

Finishing the burrito, he tossed the wrapper off the side of the building and resumed his scanning. He was bound to be coming this way, Deadpool reasoned. All of his research and mapping had told him that this was a common avenue that Spider-Man preferred to travel down. He had even speculated that he lived around here but the precise location had alluded the merc. Instead, he had settled himself in for a long wait and had even gone so far as to rent a room in the building so that he didn't have to go far if his search had taken longer than usual. This was the sixth day he had spent all night on the rooftop but he wasn't feeling discouraged. In fact, Deadpool welcomed a little time to chill-

"-Literally-" Deadpool shifted uncomfortably on the cement, feeling the cold ache in his glutes.

-and eat Mexican food to his heart's content. Usually, he would have been twitchy with boredom but it had so far worked out to his favour. He was getting paid an inordinate amount of money to bag the little bastard and it took all of his considerable skills to get this far in his search. He had a good feeling that he would get lucky soon. All he had to do was pay attention and remind himself of all the zeros that would follow the one on the cheque he had been promised.

"-Canadian spelling. Holla at ya boy-" The merc fist pumped.

Then, there was a flash and Deadpool swivelled to train the NVGs on it. Spiderman was slinging his web as he swung through the air. Tossing the goggles aside, he pulled out the custom made gun and aimed before firing making sure to shoot as the body was unable to change directions to dodge. He watched the netting arch through the air and spread before-

"Aw, shit." Deadpool cursed and reloaded with a grappling hook, firing it and launching himself off the building. Spider-man, suspended from a brick wall by his fingertips and the balls of his feet, watched the large man careen through the air like a carelessly thrown brick to slam into the ledge of the building he was perched on. He spluttered out an incredulous laugh and watched Deadpool dangle there.

"Deadpool do you know that you are such a dipshit?"

"Sticks and stones may break my bones-" His grip slipped and he fell four stories before landing with a sickening crack on the pavement below, "But gravity-"

Spiderman held up finger, "Gravity- it's not just a good idea. It's a law." He deadpanned.

"I was going to go with 'hurts like a motherfucker." Deadpool walked himself backwards on his hands, straightening out his legs which stuck out at odd angles.

Dropping down, the smaller man landed with the ease and grace of a cat. He sat crouched on his haunches as he watched with sickening awe as Deadpool's leg bones slid back under his skin and the muscles moved back into shape. "That's fucking gross, man."

"Your face is gross."

"You gonna be like that?" Spiderman stood and leaned against the building, crossing his arms over his chest, "So why have you decided to bless me with your company, dorkpool?"

Standing, the red and black clad man brushed the dirt off of his rear before answering, "Bounty."

"How much this time?"

"Don't you know its rude to talk about money?"

The younger man cocked his head to the side, "I figured we'd dropped formalities when you tried to shoot me out of the air. I know you've been stalking me. I figured you'd go away after a few days but you seem pretty insistent which means you got a promise of a big pay check-"

"-I don't know what Americans have against the letter Q-"

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Deadpool grinned under his mask, "It is a pretty big cheque and was worth the wait. Plus, there's a decent Mexican joint down the street which makes it all the more worthwhile."

"Can I ask you not to bother and to spare us both the embarrassment of the ensuing fight? We all know that I whipped your ass last time. I'm pretty sure I can do it again but I've got a test to study for."

The Avengers had come to join the fight when Deadpool's liberal application of seaforium had levelled two buildings in an attempt to capture Spider-Man. If it hadn't been for their intervention, Deadpool would have had the kid dead to rights. This time, he had planned on being more discreet and more patient but that plan was quickly getting old.

"No, I'm pretty sure I would have had you if it wasn't for Captain Sexypants and the freaky tin man." Despite the fact that Deadpool considered the Avengers his friends, he was in a killing mood and when he was in a killing mood there was no sacrosanctity-

"Blame it on the bad burritos-"

"Huh?"

WIth incredible speed and accuracy, Deadpool fired his pistol from the hip just as he cleared the holster. The first two bullets caught Spider-Man in his left foot and thigh, the third smacked the wall by his head. His leg buckled underneath him and he collapsed. "What the hell did-" Spider-Man looked up in time to catch sight of the butt of Deadpool's weapon come crashing down on his head and the lights went out.

"Sorry kid." Deadpool muttered, pulling a tightly folded canvas bag from one of the larger compartments on his belt and stuffing the unconscious body in. He hoisted the sack over his shoulder and trudged back to his apartment.

Deadpool tied Spiderman from elbow to wrist in thick, heavy rope and used duct tape to bind his hands despite pulling off his gloves and removing his web slingers. He hoisted him by ropes wrapped around his chest onto a hook where he dangled uselessly.

Settling in to a worn recliner to chow down on the remaining burritos that he had taken the time to retrieve from the building's roof, Deadpool waited for a response to the email he had sent out to his employers. He hummed happily to himself between bites and watched the other man as he slowly regained consciousness.

"Wha… what…?" Spiderman mumbled, his head lolled as the tranquilizers wore off.

"I shot you with tranqs. They'll wear off soon, I suspect." Deadpool spoke, "Don't bother trying to escape. I'll just shoot you again and I don't really want to do that. Those bullets are expensive."

"Lemme go." Despite the warnings, the younger man struggled uselessly but immediately stopped as Deadpool pulled out his weapon and balanced it on his knee. "Dammit, Deadpool. This isn't funny." He whined.

"From where I'm sitting, puddin' pop, it's downright hilarious." Despite his words, the merc didn't laugh. He checked his phone again. "You'll stay like that until my employers come and pick you up."

A van pulled up in front of the building, four men got out with automatic weapons. "Hmmm…" Deadpool frowned and cleared the chamber of his glock before replacing the clip of tranquilizer bullets with hollowpoints. "My spidey-sense is tingling…" He muttered before standing and procuring a SIG MPX from under the chair and hanging it on a nail by its sling near the door. Pulling a sword from its sheath on his back, he sliced the rope that held Spiderman and dragged him into the bathroom, dumping him in the tub. "Don't move." He said before closing the door.

He had been mildly suspicious when he had received the bounty request. It had been a lot of money and that niggling voice in the back of his head said it was almost too good to be true-

"Yeah, yeah… quit bragging…" Deadpool waved a dismissive hand in the air.

-but he had gone with it anyways. If he had been truthful, it was the idea of getting to hunt down the elusive Spiderman that far outweighed the prospect of being betrayed.

He checked the magazines in the various handguns he had on his person as he listened to the heavy trampling of men running up the stairs. Opening the door, he popped his head out in time to see the first man drop to his knee and fire a shot at him. He caught the bullet in his shoulder and grunted as the impact threw him off balance. With little effort, Deadpool gunned the man down and stepped back inside before slamming the door. He swore loudly, a litany of curses that would have made a sailor blush before pulling out a knife and prying the bullet out.

"Give us Spider-man and we'll let you go." A voice called from the hallway.

"I want my money and then you can have him."

"How about we let you live."

"How about you go fuck yourselves." Deadpool snarled, hefting the submachine gun and flinging the door open. He sprayed the hallway with bullets causing the soldiers to scatter like pigeons. Ducking back into the room, he ran to the bathroom door and kicked it in. Spiderman still lay prone in the tub, squirming to get out of his restraints. The merc pulled a knife and sliced the ropes, Spiderman ripped away the duct tape. Deadpool tossed his gloves and web slingers at him, "Get out of here, kid." He snapped but before he could run back to the hallway, Spiderman's fist caught him in the jaw. The power of the hit caused him to stagger backwards and land on his ass. He didn't bother to listen to the kid's threats, concerned with keeping the gun-toting men out of the room so Spider-Man could escape.

He emptied the remainder of the clip into the chest of an approaching soldier. He dived to catch the body, using it as a shield as the remaining two shot at him. Dropping the body and the SIG MPX, Deadpool pulled out his holstered handguns and shot as he ran forward, not stopping as bullets caught his side. When the two remaining soldier dropped and gasped their last, he leaned heavily against the wall and slid down, feeling his lungs fill with fluid. The man pulled off his mask which was thick with blood. He spluttered, blood coating his tongue and hanging in ropes off of his chin.

"Holy shit." Spiderman cried, kneeling beside Deadpool.

"It's nothing a hug can't fix." Deadpool gasped, cradling his ribs and sliding down to lie prone on the floor. He got his hands underneath him and pushed up, struggling to get to his feet. An arm wrapped around his waist, Deadpool slung an arm around Spiderman's scrawny shoulders as he shot him a smile. "Thanks." He was dragged into the apartment and dumped on his recliner.

Deadpool could feel the foreign bits of metal move inside his body. His innards rearranged themselves. Leaning over, he vomited blood and bile on the floor; this was followed by the rattle of bullets he could purge through his stomach. In the distance he heard the wails of approaching police cars. "Dammit. I need to get out of here." He muttered, getting to his feet slowly.

"Seriously?" Spider-man croaked, the first words he had uttered since witnessing the carnage in the hallway and the ensuing gore of Deadpool's healing factors kicking into overdrive.

"Get my guns. I left them in the hallway. The po-po will take em and that machine gun is my favourite." Deadpool rasped, his voice rough from vomiting. He grabbed a takeout cup of warm fountain pop from the rickety table by the recliner and chugged it down. Spiderman came back in carrying the discarded weapons like he was carrying roadkill. He grimaced beneath his mask as he handed them over to the other man. "Movies make it seem like guns grow on trees but good guns are fucking expensive." He checked the safety on the weapons as he holstered them.

"That's… uh… good to know…" Spiderman hoped that he would never need to use one. "So are you good to go?"

"Bit dizzy from the blood loss." He mumbled, rubbing his head as his vision swam. Feeling the other man's concern radiating from every line on his lithe body, Deadpool looked up and smiled reassuringly, "I'll figure it out. Get out of here and I'll catch you on the flipside."

Spider-man had one foot on the windowsill when he glanced back at the merc. Deadpool was weaving unsteadily on his feet. He cursed silently and stepped down, "Come on. I'll get us out of here but after that, you're on your own."

"You gonna give me a piggyback ride?" Deadpool leered.

"Don't make me regret it." The other growled as he turned his back on the man.

Deadpool forgot how strong the kid was. He weighed 210lbs and add another twenty for all the gear he hauled around but Spider-Man handled him like he was nothing. At some point, he blacked out because he woke up just as he was being gently lowered onto a mattress. It was a lean- to on the roof of a warehouse, Deadpool realized. He groaned and sat up, his head throbbing.

"There's bottles of water and granola bars underneath the mattress. I come here sometimes to think." Spiderman offered.

"Thanks, kid."

"Did you know that was going to happen? That they were going to betray you like that?" He asked, sitting on his haunches.

"I suspected as much."

"Then why did you go through the trouble of tracking me down?" Spiderman fidgeted.

Offering him a one shouldered shrug, Deadpool didn't bother with a verbal response. He didn't dare entertain the idea that he considered the young man a friend only to be rebuffed as he was by everyone else. He looked out over the cityscape, letting his thoughts meander. Truth be told, he had been so bored and restless as of late that he had welcomed the challenge. With the discovery of his daughter and the departure of Preston from his noodle, he was lonely. It was never good when Deadpool was left to his own devices-

"-Weapons of mass destruction."

"Who are you talking to? What about weapons of mass destruction?"

He waved a dismissive hand, "Nothing. Just forget it."

Spiderman was torn between wanting to leave and wanting to stay. He sat back on his rear and cross his long legs to stare intently at the other man. "So are you going to try to capture me again or are we good?"

Giving him a lecherous, toothy smile, Deadpool answered, "We'll have to see. I might want to have my dirty way with you."

"Uh. Inapprops, dude." But to his chagrin, Spider-Man found himself oddly flattered. Deadpool had never been overtly sexual before. At least not to him.

"You jailbait?"

"No… I'm old enough to-"

"-Have sex with psychotic strange men?"

"Well, certainly but I'm not that desperate." He watched the man suspiciously.

Hands reached out and wrapped around the smaller man's ankles. With little effort, Deadpool dragged him over until Spider-Man was almost straddling his waist. "What if I am?" He growled.

"What are you doing?"

"Being inappropriate." Deadpool grinned, leaning in to nip his lean shoulder.

In an instant Spider-Man was on his feet and stepping out of arm's length. "Alrighty. Well, you have fun with that." His voice was high with anxiety and discomfort. He wanted as far away from this weird man as he could get.

"It's better if there's someone else to do it with me." The other man offered, watching with glee as Spiderman beat a hasty retreat across the rooftop.

The morning after, Peter rolled out of bed and sat with his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his head, half heartedly trying to pat down his wild case of bedhead. His mind went back to the crazy night he had had. Being abducted by Deadpool and subsequently rescued by him, then being hit on by said merc. His whimsy was mercurial to say the least which had made him annoying, endearing and deadly in equal doses. It had made him panicky to be the subject of his attention not knowing if one minute he was going to have his throat slit or his brains fucked out by the same person.

He touched his shoulder wear Deadpool had bit him. It hadn't bruised. It hadn't even hurt, really, but the memory of it was vivid and colored his thoughts. He bit his lip as he thought about it. Deadpool was widely considered a nuisance amongst the super community. There had been much eye rolling and teeth sucking when any of the Avengers had been forced to work with him. Even Captain America had felt that way about him most times.

Dressing slowly and trudging downstairs to the smell of bacon and coffee. His aunt was puttering happily in the kitchen and had set a plate of toast, eggs and bacon in front of him. He answered her normal questions monosyllabically between bites as he wrestled with his thoughts on the merc.

"Peter? Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?" Aunt May asked, smiling patiently at Peter.

"I'm sorry Aunt May. I have a lot on my mind." He took a deep drink of his coffee, almost emptying it in two gulps. "I better get going. I'm going to be late."

"Okay. Well, you be careful. I don't want you to walk into traffic because you are too distracted to pay attention to where your feet are going."

He stood and gave his aunt a kiss on the cheek before putting his dishes in the sink. "I love you, Aunt May. I'll see you later."

"I won't be here when you get in. I'm going out with some of the ladies from the club, okay? There will be food there for you to heat up when you get hungry."

He shouldered his backpack and gave his aunt a dazzling smile, "Okay. You ladies have fun, then. And behave- I don't have the money for bail."

Peter opened the door and stood staring up into the scarred face of Deadpool. "What the hell?" He hissed, feeling sick to his stomach at the appearance of the merc. He was thankfully not dressed in his normal merc gear but in old chucks, faded jeans and a stained hoodie. Underneath the hood he wore a ballcap pulled low on his head, the bill effectively covering his scarred face

"Surprise tacos!" Deadpool wagged the bag in front of Peter's pale face.

"What the hell? How the hell did you find out where I lived?" The younger man bit out between gritted teeth.

"I slipped a tracker in your boot." He had checked himself thoroughly for trackers in the bathroom while Deadpool had been fighting. There had been nothing, absolutely no tracker. Sensing what he was thinking, he added, "On the roof."

His stomach plummeted. He had been so distracted that he hadn't bothered to check. He had been so preoccupied with being completely freaked out by Deadpool's flirting that he hadn't thought to check. "You hit on me to slip a tracker on me?" Strangely, inexplicably, he felt disappointed.

"Two birds, one stone. I got to grope you and figure out where your spidey-hole was." He smirked.

"If you think that this gives you leverage, you are out of your fucking mind-"

Lifting the bag of food up defensively, Deadpool said, "No. No leverage. Just food between friends. I've no interest in hurting you."

"You did last night." He pushed passed him.

Deadpool caught up, keeping pace easily, "Listen, let's put that behind us! Let bygones be long gone. Or whatever. I brought tacos. As an apology for y'know… trying to sell you to people who were clearly less than reputable."

"Seriously, Deadpool-"

"Wade."

"-huh?"

"My name. It's Wade. Wade Wilson." He opened the bag and took out a taco, eating happily as he walked beside the infuriated shorter man.

"We're not on a first name basis." Peter hissed.

"You want me to call you Sp-"

"Shut it!" Peter whirled on him abruptly.

"Have a taco. They are made with joy and forgiveness." He wagged the bag under Peter's nose, the smell of spiced meat tantalizing.

"I'm not getting rid of you anytime soon, am I?"

"Probably not. I'm like herpes. I just crop up and make your genitals burn when you least expect it."

"Gross." Peter took a taco out of the bag and ate slowly as they resumed their walk. The taco was actually really good and much to his chagrin, he found himself fishing through the paper bag for another. "These are good."

Wade tossed the empty bag of greasy wrappers into a nearby garbage bin. "So where are we going?"

"I'm going to class."

"Oh." They walked along in awkward silence before Peter cleared his voice and spoke, "I could skip it, though. Do you have something in mind?"

"Another piggy back ride?" Wade asked a little too eagerly.

"Not gonna happen."

"Oh." He looked crestfallen and it made Peter smile fondly. "Well, how about a drink to wash down the forgiveness tacos."

"Sounds good."

Wade stopped in front of a particularly dank looking building, the only telltale sign that it was a bar was the neon budweiser sign that could be seen through the small barred window. "You are old enough to drink, aren't you?" The man squinted at Peter suspiciously.

He let out an exasperated sigh, "Yes, I am old enough to drink, Wade."

"Okay. Cuz I know a guy who knows a guy who might be able to get you a fake ID. In case, y'know, you need it for completely legal reasons."

"What legal reason would there be to own a fake ID?"

"I don't know, Nancy Drew." Wade opened the door and let Peter walk by, "use your imagination."

They sat at a booth in the corner of the dingy room after ordering warm beer from a surly looking bartender. "So. Tell me your origin story, Peter Parker."

"Origin story-" Peter took a cautionary sip of beer before answering, "bit by a radioactive spider. Great powers, great responsibilities. That kind of stuff."

"Me too. Only no spiders. Or responsibilities." He tilted his head as if a thought suddenly occurred to him, "Except for now. Now I guess I do have responsibilities. I have a kid."

He almost spat out his beer in shock. Spluttering, Peter wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Seriously?"

"The ladies love me!"

"It's not that… it's just…"

"You think cuz I look like a walking open sore that I don't have sexy time?"

"No-no- stop trying to finish my sentences." Peter groused, "I meant, I thought you were gay."

Wade blinked, "Oh. Well, I guess you might think that." He took a swig of his beer, "but no. I'm not gay. I just am not picky."

"Oh that's flattering." Peter shot him a frown.

"No, no- not like that. You have a nice bum. Jumping around in your sexy spandex makes me wanna lick you like a lollypop." The merc grinned lecherously as Peter spluttered again, "I just like what I like. Fans dig their slash fanfiction."

"Slash… what?" He had heard that term being thrown around before. Tony had mentioned it in his presence once when he was talking to Steve. It sounded frightening by the way both men had been arguing over it. He had never seen Captain America look so… hunted...

"Never mind." He took another drink from his beer before belching loudly, "Have you had sex before, Peter?"

"Yes!" Peter snapped, "I'm not that young, I've done things and-"

"Don't get your panties in a wad. You look like you're fourteen and I don't want to feel like I'm deflowering Lolita-"

"Who said anything about deflowering?!" Peter was almost dizzy with hysterics. "Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?"

Wade shrugged, "Just sayin'. It's gonna happen. I just don't want to feel like a dirty pedo when it does."

"Okay, well, on that note…" Peter was mildly amused and exasperated. Wade was truly one of the most infuriating individuals he had ever known and truthfully, he hadn't known him that long to realize this. "Do you say this stuff to get a rise out of people or do you genuinely mean what you say?" He blurted.

"A little bit of both." Wade shrugged and had the gall to look slightly uncomfortable, "I can't help myself. Whatever I think just comes out."

They talked for hours. One beer turned into two which turned into four which turned into- well, truthfully, Wade lost count and didn't really care. He enjoyed listening to Peter talk as he became more and more inebriated. It wasn't until Peter pulled out his cell which had been vibrating nonstop for the past half hour that he realized they had spent more than twelve hours in their dingy booth. The place had filled up with patrons that looked just as worn down as the decor but that had gone unnoticed. Peter, who had always taken pride in his ability to notice everything at once, hadn't really been paying attention at all.

"It's late. I better get going." Peter said sounding genuinely apologetic. He staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on the table.

Wade followed him out of the bar and into the street where night had fallen and along with it, the threat of frost. Peter shivered a little and stuffed his hands inside his pockets. He was surprised when Wade draped his sweater over his shivering shoulders, "It's too cold for you to be in a t-shirt, Wade."

"S'fine." He grinned and walked beside him, occasionally bumping arms as they walked. They walked home in relative silence. Wade occasionally burst into song which amused Peter to the point where he found himself joining in.

They arrived at the house and Peter fumbled with his keys a few times before finally unlocking the door. "I'm so hungry." Peter grumbled, dropping his bookbag in the middle of the floor for Wade to stumble over as he made his way to the fridge. He pulled out the leftovers and crowed in delight as he showed the contents to Wade. "NACHOS!"

"Wuzzat?" He peered at the contents of the container. It was rice and ground beef but smelled faintly familiar.

"Taco meat and rice. You eat it with cheese and sour cream with-with" He fished a bag of plain tostitos out of a cupboard and thrust them in Wade's arms. "Prepare to have your mind blown." He said happily as he threw the container in the microwave.

Wade capered around the kitchen munching noisily on tostitos despite Peter's warnings not to eat them all. With a relish of a spoon, Peter had added sour cream and cheese to the concoction which was quickly starting to smell irresistible to the taco-fiend. Quick reflexes allowed Peter to nab the bag from his drunk friend and scoop up some of the meat and rice. He shoved it into Wade's mouth, yelping when teeth nipped his fingers.

"Oh my sweet baby Jesus!" Wade mumbled between mouthfuls of nachos. They made it to the couch with their big container of food and ate in a quiet, drunken frenzy as Peter flipped through the channels to land on an old Buster Keaton movie that had them both laughing. They didn't speak until the food was gone. "Can I live here and have Aunt May feed me that nacho stuff? I think that'd be my idea of heaven." Wade patted his clearly distended stomach and sighed happily.

"Yeah, my aunt is the best." Peter leaned his back against Wade and didn't complain as one heavily muscled arm wrapped around his body and rested against his chest.

When Peter woke it was to the pain of a nagging headache. He moaned and pulled the blanket over his head, trying to remember how he had gotten here. He remembered drinking with Wade- Deadpool- all day. Eating Nachos with him and watching movies. And… cuddling? He frowned. That couldn't be right. Or could it? Pulling the blanket down, he looked around and realized that he was in his own room. Peter sat up slowly, trying to keep the room from swaying anymore than it already was. He groaned and held his head.

There was a note on his bedside table. It took him a considerable amount of effort to grab it and read; "Was fun. Lets do it again, sometime. -WWAKADP" He squinted at the note as his foggy brain tried to process the message. Instead of thinking any further, he pulled off his shirt and jeans and crawled back under the covers. He'd deal with Deadpool when his head stopped pounding.