Commission request from superblynerdyfun (tumblr) / OMG_Sallie (AO3) for a younger (but still over 18) Deadpool aggressively pursuing an older Spidey + rimming. Summary from Bloodhound Gang's 'The Bad Touch'. Beta by my amazing best friend who keeps trying to resist the way I'm hastily shoving her into the Spideypool trash bin; valiant effort my dude but I'mma getcha.
Fun fact: unlike movies, I write everything in the order it's read. Unfun fact: this fic fought me so much that this has become the first fic written out of reading order.
Cross-posted from AO3 same day.
Dancing
For absolutely no reason that followed any kind of logic anywhere in the universe, when something hit the dead center of Peter's right butt cheek and bounced off, his first (inexplicable) reaction was to look up at the sky. Sure, it was mind-numbingly humid outside, the air so muggy that muggers weren't mugging, but he'd never live it down if anyone had seen him look up when he'd been hit from behind.
Except someone had seen him do it.
He'd actually forgotten that he'd heard someone join him on the roof a while ago, because they'd both done the New Yorker thing and ignored one another. But when further butt-hitting things failed to materialize from the sky, Peter realized that ignoring them was no longer an option and turned around. Only to find a costume sitting on the opposite ledge, holding a palmful of coins and looking ready to flick another Peter's way.
"Oh shit, he noticed us," the stranger muttered.
Peter frowned at the words and glanced around, but there was no one else in sight.
"It's kinda hard to ignore ass-bound projectiles," Peter finally replied, raising a brow under his mask.
"Oh, don't mind us, Spidey. We're just testing the bounce ratio of that ass. Do you have any coins? I only found quarters and it's not really a test without variables." The man flicked another coin, which seemed to be a wide shot, but it bounced off a duct with a clang and hit Peter's left butt cheek, making him jump.
"A man after my own heart," Peter replied drily. "I can't say I know you, however."
Without warning, the man jumped to his feet, dropping his palmful of coins to the roof floor (Peter almost dropped with them to pick up what had to be at least $10 in loose change), and then struck a pose that was better suited to a Japanese schoolgirl taking a selfie with her friends rather than a grown man.
"Deadpool's the name, murder's the game, and that butt's my thang. Trust me Spidey. Well… don't trust me; I'm like the anti-trustiest, but trust me on this 'cuz I know butts and yours is top-notch, top-of-the-line, top of my list: Best. Butt. Ever. Been touching myself to that fine thing since before I could read, I'll tell you. Your ass makes a fantastic wallpaper b-t-dubs, but it gets dirty pretty fast, if you catch my drift." The mask winked.
Peter stared. He apparently did know the man. Or rather, he knew his reputation. And probably the cover page of his SHIELD file. Not on purpose, just over the last few weeks, any time Peter had run into one of the Avengers, they'd each warned him individually of the dangers New York's newest mutant posed. Coulson had warned him the guy had become unkillable after genetic testing he'd gone through to try to cure his cancer. Stark had blatantly dropped Deadpool's unusually high kill count from when he'd been enlisted with the Canadian Special forces, and then added that his kill count as a mercenary couldn't actually be counted with any kind of accuracy. Peter had had to edge away when Barton had started waxing poetic about the mercenary's weapons, and he'd straight up left when Romanoff had actually complimented his skill (he'd seen her in action; impressing her was not something done easily). Dr Banner's input had only been "He doesn't know how to shut the fuck up", which was impressive in its own right since that was literally the only time Peter had heard him curse. Ever. Cap he surprisingly just didn't run into.
Somehow, amongst all those useful warnings, they had failed to inform him of three very important things. First, it sounded like Deadpool was implying that he was in his early 20s. Not that that really meant a lot by way of accomplishments since Peter had started Spider-Manning when he was 15, but still. Second, that he had an apparent obsession with Spider-Man's ass. And third, and most importantly, that he was completely off his rocker.
A conclusion that was only confirmed when the man crouched down Zoidberg-style, whipped a pair of folding hand fans with patterns that looked suspiciously like the colouring on a peacock spider's abdomen, and proceeded to crab walk from side to side while directing air traffic with his fans.
The sight completely wiped the very important question as to whether or not the mercenary was here to try and kill Spider-Man from Peter's mind, and he came to the conclusion that he was hallucinating the encounter. A decade and a half of sleep deprivation, stress, and malnourishment combined with weeks of scare-tactic warnings from his co-workers and one abnormally, disgustingly hot night had finally done him in.
"What are you doing," Peter manage to choke out, unable to figure out exactly how to react to the display Deadpool was putting on. He kind of wanted to laugh, but he was afraid of encouraging his hallucination.
"Courting my favourite superhero, of course!" Deadpool replied cheerfully as his dance started to repeat itself. Maybe. It was hard to tell for sure. "Well, second favourite, but like a tie, because Captain America is like everyone's favourite to the point that it's just assumed default and you have to pick another one but it's not like I have to pick another cuz ain't no one gonna tell me I gotta do shit but because if Cap didn't come back to life you'd be my favorite bar none but now you're my favourite bar one."
It had already been too hot to deal with any wackiness, and just being a spectator to the indescribable spectacle cemented Peter's decision to turn in early for the night. Maybe getting a few extra hours of sleep would stop his hallucination from returning.
"I have to go."
He didn't wait for an answer before he shot off a web, but as he swung away, he did hear the guy say "And there's the coup de gr-âss," and Peter couldn't help but snort. At least his hallucination was funny.
A hallucination that had attempted to court him with the peacock spider's actual fucking mating dance, as Peter accidentally discovered amidst a bout of giggles later that week.
As sure as Peter was that he'd hallucinated Deadpool, he still mentioned him to the Avengers when he dropped by the Tower the next day.
"I think I met Deadpool yesterday," he said as everyone was getting up to leave the conference room. As one, they all turned to stare at him, which kinda made him glad he was sitting by the door. "Did he uh… hit on any of you when you first met him?"
Surprisingly, it was Cap who spoke up. With a pink face. "Did he, ah… Did he grab your rump?"
"We call it an 'ass', Cap," Tony snarked gleefully.
Peter ignored him and looked at Rogers curiously. "Why, did he grab yours?"
Cap turned an even darker shade and began to mutter something even Peter's hearing couldn't pick up on, but he gathered that was a 'yes'. He decided to consider himself lucky that the only thing of Deadpool's that had touched his ass had been quarters.
Tony rapped his knuckles on the table to get Peter's attention and then pointed at him. "You see Deadpool again, kid, you bag him, tag him, and wait for SHIELD to show up and take him. Kid's a menace. And be careful. He has a weird boner for the Avengers too."
Peter almost mentioned that Deadpool had said that Spider-Man was his favourite, but even thinking it felt too much like a superhero dick-measuring contest. Not that it would matter because if they met again, Peter was going to web him up and leave him for the police like any other criminal.
The next time they met, Peter did not web Deadpool up and leave him for the police like any other criminal.
TBC
If you get the chance, just search youtube for 'peacock spider' and that first result should be the mating dance. It's hilarious and adorable. Treat yourself.
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