Title: 'Like' Like
Author: ELLE
Pairings/Warnings: Peter/Wade, high school AU, fluff, explicit language
Notes: Written for Miss Murdered's and I's "Twelve Days of Christmas" prompt challenge. The prompt was "slow dance."
Things were different since Wade showed up.
High school was, as to be expected, a singularly dull experience for a smart kid with nothing better to do than expand his mind in study. Peter got picked on some, had a small subset of unpopular friends, and generally spent his days trying not to fall asleep and avoiding as many assholes as possible.
But then Wade came with his knit hat slouched low over his ears and his jacket collar popped and none of the teachers gave him shit about it because he was a foster kid covered in horrific scars and at first he was just some oddity that had people staring – then he opened his mouth.
Wade was destined to be the thing of constant rumors, Peter pegged that right from the start, but the fact that he just didn't give a shit – in fact, encouraged rumors – was completely unexpected. He told the first nosy girl that asked that his mom did drugs while she was pregnant, but then claimed he had a neurological disorder that made him tear off his own skin. There were many versions now, and Wade had never answered straight to any of them, but being as Peter's aunt was well-acquainted with the foster system, she eventually learned that his parents died in a hoarder-based house fire as they slept and extensive burning was the cause of his deformity.
Peter never told, though, and maybe for that reason – his total lack of curiosity – Wade gravitated towards him. At first he tried to discourage it, ignored Wade when he sat down next to him in the classes they shared and at lunch, wanting to distance himself from anything that would get him any more untoward attention. But the thing was? Wade was fucking hilarious. He might not have been as smart as Peter, but he was quick and astute and could peg people in an instant. His little quips had Peter in stitches and it was only a matter of time before they became unlikely friends.
And then, right as they were about to walk into the gymnasium – ironically attending homecoming to talk underhanded shit about all the girls' dresses – Wade confessed that he 'like' liked him. Peter was left standing there in his dorky button down and his uncle's tie, shocked, watching Wade walk into a balloon and streamer filled dance floor filled with their peers like he hadn't said anything at all.
... he what?!
Peter stepped in like he was in a dream, standing off to the side, watching as Wade took the dance floor in his mock tux t-shirt and his black hoodie with some dandelions pinned to it and he studied his friend's hilarious attempts at break dancing to Honey, I'm Good. Wade met his eyes across the gym and his wide smile turned shy as he optimistically motioned him in and Peter categorically refused with a horrified shake of his head – but when Wade turned away, Peter couldn't help but smile.
It was nothing he would've ever thought about. As a kid who struggled enough with the death of his own parents and worked hard not to be the target of bullies, dating your best friend who was also a dude – and not just a dude but a dude who got a constant amount of attention thanks in no small part to his own encouragement – just wasn't that high up there on the list of shit you might consider. But Wade...
The song shifted to Omi's Hula Hoop and Peter watched, laughing as Wade implored a girl to dance with him and when she refused, turned to her boyfriend. The thing was, watching Wade... he could kind of see it? He'd never really looked in the direction of other guys before but – Wade. There was something about him, wasn't there? Things were different since Wade showed up.
He had found a girl to dance with and Peter mingled through the other bystanders for a few minutes. But when he looked back to the dance floor after a couple songs, Wade was gone.
For a minute Peter felt an uncomfortable rush of panic as he glanced through the dark gymnasium, searching for him. There was no reason for it, not really, he just – he didn't want Wade to leave thinking he had rejected him. It would be fucking awkward on Monday.
Out of the corner of his eye Peter saw the back entrance out to the football stadium close and he bolted for it, slipping out to see Wade walking away.
Peter paused for a minute, not sure what to say, then shoved his hands in his pockets and called out on his toes – "You're supposed to give me a lift home asshole!"
Wade hesitated but then he looked over his shoulder. Peter wasn't sure he was going to come back so he shouted at him again to come back and talk and Wade couldn't walk away from that.
He sauntered back, clearly trying to front ego, and they just stared at each other for a minute as the optimistic lilt of Echosmith's Bright drifted through the crack in the door. It was cold, that edge of winter creeping in, and Peter tried not to shiver as he waited for Wade to say something.
"This song sucks," Wade muttered and Peter chuckled.
"Dance?" he asked, holding out a hand and Wade rolled his eyes.
"I'm not asking for a pity fuck."
"Who said I was going to fuck you?" Peter sputtered, laughing and pressing his hand towards him insistently. "Dance?"
Although he clearly wanted to walk away – the guarded look in his big brown eyes said as much – Wade took his hand and Peter pulled him in a little closer. He was soft, softer than Peter was expecting with all the scarring, but then it was Wade. Regardless of the facade he put up, Peter knew that all of him was soft.
"Seriously," Wade said, trying not to stutter. "I only told you because you were going to figure it out anyway. 'You're a bright kid with an even brighter future,'" he coolly mimicked the assistant principal that somehow always caught them fucking off together. "'I know you don't want to waste it with Wade Wilson.'"
Peter made a disgruntled sound, irritated, leaning his head in against Wade's chest in a move that felt completely natural even though it wasn't. "It's mine to waste."
"Careful, P," Wade warned softly, unable to stop himself from tightening his arm around Peter's waist just a little more. "You're about to make me start feeling things, and you know how I feel about feeling feelings."
Peter shook his head just slightly, staring up at the stars across Wade's shoulder. He smelled like pine and felt so warm and familiar that it felt right. Maybe Wade didn't like feeling things, but Peter didn't mind it so much. In fact, Peter liked feeling like this.
"I really like you," he mumbled into Wade's hoodie and Wade's slow side-to-side excuse for dancing skipped a beat.
"Like... 'like' like?" he asked and Peter grinned so hard it hurt.
"Yeah, maybe," Peter answered quietly. "I think I might."