"Thank you. Goodbye." Peter hung up his cell phone and put it in his pocket.

"So all the arrangements are made?" MJ asked as they walked up the staircase to the restaurant.

"Yeah. It's final." Peter had been talking with the staff at the nursing home Aunt May had finally agreed to move into. She was leaving that week. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking on the phone right now."

"No, no, it's alright! Just keep your eyes on me while we're eating, alright?" Peter smiled. They were seated, ordered their food, and settled into a conversation. "So." MJ eventually said, after a lengthy discussion about the food at ESU's cafeteria. "You finally met that Helix guy, huh?"

"What?" It took him a second to realize she was talking about Wade. "Oh, yeah. We met."

"What's he like?" She leaned forward eagerly. Peter thought hard. Trying to describe a guy like that….

"He has an interesting sense of humor," He finally said. "He's very outgoing." She smiled.

"Is he as into physics as you?"

"Well, not quite, but there are different degrees of, you know… interest." She giggled.

"No one's as much of a geek about it as you are, huh?" He smiled.

"You've got that right."

"Are you going to see him again, then?"

"Er…" He hesitated. The truth was, he'd seen Wade three, sometimes four times every week in the two months since they'd met. He was just such a fascinating person, he couldn't stay away! Sure, his job wasn't exactly a plus but… Peter realized that MJ was still waiting for an answer.

"Here are your meals." He was saved by the waiter, who put a plate in front of each of them and walked off.

"Ooh, let's eat!" MJ said delightedly as she dug into her meal. Peter took slow bites, distracted as he thought about his… situation. Whatever his situation was. After dinner, MJ invited him back to her house. He phoned Aunt May to make sure she knew where he was going, and drove back with her. "Give me a moment?" MJ said, smiling as she disappeared into her bathroom. Peter sat on her bed, looking around the room as if he hadn't been there hundreds of times before. Shifting his gaze to the nightstand, he saw a few papers sticking out from under a stack of books. Looking back on it, he should have respected her privacy. He should have just left them alone. But curiosity got the better of him, and he pulled the papers out and began to read.

Peter, my Peter. The fireworks I see when our lips touch. The chills when you take my hand in yours. Be mine, my love, forevermore-

He didn't get to finish reading, because that's when MJ popped out of the bathroom and caught him. Both were shocked, but thinking very different things. "Oh my gosh, I didn't mean for you to see those!" She said with a coy smile. "They're all horrible, I know." Peter just stared at the papers. Is this what love is supposed to feel like, he wondered? But… I don't feel this way at all. "Are you okay?" MJ put her hand on his shoulder. "Peter? I didn't think they were that bad!" She laughed. He stood up.

"I have to go, sorry." He said as he walked quickly out the door.

"Wait, what? Peter, don't go!" She called after him. "Did I do something wrong?" He walked all the way down the stairs and outside the building, picking up pace as he went, until he finally got to his car. He got in and started the vehicle, beginning to drive towards his home. What does this mean? He asked himself. Of course, the answer was staring him in the face; Mary Jane wasn't right for him. She never had been. But then… who was? He screeched to a stop, pulling over on the side of the road, and began to dig around in the bag on the floor of his car, pulling out the spider suit. He needed to take his mind off of all this.

Only minutes later, he was swinging high above the city, above the traffic and the lights, patrolling the neighborhood like always. He always felt better up here. Like all the troubles of the world below were suddenly insignificant. He perched on a flagpole and searched the horizon, looking for trouble.

"Catch him!" He heard a shout from below

"He's insane, boss! I ain't goin' near that freak!" Sounded like a job for the friendly neighborhood Spiderman. He jumped off his perch, slinging webs and jumping off rooftops in the direction of the voices. He smiled under the mask. He well remembered the whole "with great power comes great responsibility" speech, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy his job, right? He landed in an alleyway full of men and women dressed in fancy suits; bodyguards. In the middle of them all stood a man in an even fancier suit, which Peter guessed probably cost more than his house.

"Alright, boys and girls, what seems to be the problem?" He said, stepping toward them. There was a sudden sensation in the back of his head, and he whirled around to catch his attacker, only to be grabbed from behind and pulled into a firm hold against the wall, a blade pressed against his throat. The guys in the alley took the chance to run out, and it was just him and his attacker. Wait…

"Wade?" Peter croaked. It was Wade; jumpsuit and everything. And he had a knife pressed to his throat. He must not have heard him, because Wade leaned in close to him, and narrowed his eyes.

"Alright, what's the deal, joker? That guy was my mark, and you come in here and f* it all up. I got news for you pal;" he pressed the blade harder. "Nobody gets between me and a kill." Peter was caught between a rock and a hard place. If he made any move at all, the knife would cut straight into his throat, and bye-bye Peter. Of course, he looked like he was headed in that direction anyway. There was only one way out.

"Wade!" He choked his words out hoarsely, under the pressure of the knife. "Wade, it's me! Pete!" Wade's face immediately lightened, and he pulled the knife back, sheathing it in its holster at his hip.

"Pete? Why didn't you say so! Hey, buddy!" The next thing he did Peter never would have expected; he gathered him in a hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him. When he finally put him down, Wade eyed Peter critically. "So, you're the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, huh? Never would've guessed!"

"So this is your job?" Peter said abruptly. Wade looked confused.

"Well, yeah, I told you. I'm a mercenary. Shame that guy got away, though. He was my ticket to Fiji."

"You're horrible."

"I'm what?"

"You're horrible. You're just like the villains I fight every day to keep this city safe. I don't know why I didn't see it before!"

"Hey, it's fun, I can tell you that!" Peter's blood began to boil. He couldn't believe he had been so blind. To get close enough to this homicidal maniac to call him his… his friend. "Oh, come on. Don't you ever need a release? A way out of all the stresses of everyday life?"

"A release?" Peter snapped. "What about a therapist? Or, better yet, a straitjacket?!"

"Do you know what? You wouldn't be so damned pissed right now if you'd had the kinda life I have! Do you know what I've had to deal with? The things I've had to do to make ends meet?!"

"Oh, please. Tell me about all the hardships you've had to endure! I'm sure missing your five-o-clock appointment at the torture chamber is in your top ten, right?" All of a sudden, Wade pulled off the mask. Peter gasped. He was… he was covered. In something.

"Tumors. Skin tumors." Wade said gravely. "A couple of years ago, maybe centuries, maybe decades, I'm not sure anymore, a bunch of douchebags decided to try to make me immortal. And it worked, too; I can't die!" To demonstrate, he pulled the knife back out of its holster and sliced off his own head, holding it under his shoulder as he continued to talk. Peter stared in shock. "Only, surprise! I've got skin cancer that can't die too, which basically means I spend every moment of my life in agony!" He paused, and his gaze drifted off into the air again, as if listening to someone Peter couldn't see. "Oh, that's right, and then there's these guys. Because of the tumors that decided to crowd in on my brain and make me go fruit loopy, I have two total assholes for permanent tenants inside my head! So, yeah! I think I win the contest for shittiest life!" He put his head back on his shoulders, and twisted until it connected with an audible "pop". Peter was completely blindsided. Now he just felt like a jerk. He really shouldn't have, of course; feeling sorry for homicidal maniacs is never a good idea. But he just couldn't help but feel like he should do something.

"There has to be something that makes you happy." He prodded gently. Wade looked up from staring at the ground.

"Yeah, dumbass. It's you." Now Peter was starting to run out of words for "shocked". Did he mean…? "It's been you since that first day, sitting and watching the cars go by!" He took both of Peter's shoulders in his hands, his tumor-riddled face close enough to feel his breath on his cheeks.

"B-but Wade!" He stuttered. "Wade, I'm not gay!" Wade raised one eyebrow.

"Yeah you are." He scoffed.

"No, I'm-" Wade didn't give him a chance to finish before he pulled him in close and, in one fluid motion, pulled up Peter's mask and kissed him. It felt… amazing. A warmth spread through Peter's body, which turned to a fire as his lips met Wade's bumpy, fascinatingly textured skin. And he found himself kissing back. It was a long minute before they finally pulled away, and looked each other in the eyes. Peter gulped. "Okay." He said. "Definitely gay."