Wade arrived at the meeting place, dressed in the red suit and feeling a little irritated, but overall intrigued. He managed to find the person he was looking for through a near-impossible coincidence. He checked his watch a few times before he was approached by Peter Parker.

He was pretty accurate to how he was described. He was about 5'10" with slightly unkempt brown hair, and hazel eyes that fit the description of "wow" quite well. Wade felt a smile curl up the corners of his mouth when Peter was reluctant to speak first. He shifted from foot to foot aimlessly until Deadpool introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Deadpool. Nice to meet you. I'm here, so what do I have to do to get the photo taken down? He's just a kid, so I'm sure you understand why I don't want pictures of him floating around like that when he still isn't out of the academy or in the public eye."

"You're direct." Peter rolled his eyes, scuffing his foot. "The reason I made this deal is because there are some rumors going around about your friend in that picture... And, frankly, I'm curious if they're true."

Wade's eyebrow rose dramatically, showing the movement even through the mask, "Could you be a little more direct, Petey? We need some plot progression here."

"What?" Peter furrowed his eyebrows, eyes squinted in confusion.

"Go on."

"Well, uh, this kid," Pete took out a photo and showed it to Deadpool. A photo of Russell, out of X-Men garb, posed for a mug shot. The boy looked older since Wade had seen him last, the date on the mug shot confirmed it- the photo was recent. "He's the prime suspect in a series of arsons and the murder of an individual whose name they haven't released to the public yet."

"If it's not released to the public yet, how do you know about it?" Wade asked pointedly, bending down a little to be eye to eye with Peter.

"The Bugle has it's connections. Besides, I have a personal interest in this case." Peter admitted, stepping back some to regain some personal space. A small blush of discomfort covered his cheeks.

"What kind of interest?"

"The kid is a future recruit for X-Men, as I'm sure you know. I think he's being wrongly accused, maybe even framed, but I can't prove it, not by myself. I need your help." Peter was not begging, but he did seem genuine about wanting help. "I'll delete the photo regardless, whether you help me or not, but I wish you would help me."

"Why do you care?" Wade asked, "Russell never leaves that damn academy so I doubt you two know each other. Why do you want him to be cleared, then?"

"I know what it's like to be accused of things you would never, ever do. I am doing for him what I would want someone else to do for me." Peter pulled up an employee interface of the Bugle and deleted the picture while Wade looked on. He then put his phone back in his pocket, and looked at Wade with a hesitant expression.

He sighed, "I'll help. Seeing as my last job wound up sizzled, looks like I have free time. That is probably what they're trying to pin on him, too. If that's the case it'll trace right back to me anyway. The last thing I need is a warrant for my arrest, it's bad for business."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, thanking him, when Wade interrupted with clearing his throat.

"Now that is over," Deadpool grinned, "Why do you only take pictures of Spider-Man? You got a hard-on for him or something?"

"N-no!" Peter sputtered, face red and indignant, aiming to deflect the conversation.

"I'm not judging, Petey. You don't have to see his face to know that he looks damn good under that suit. I would love to have his number for the lonely nights." Wade chuckled lecherously.

Peter suddenly felt really uncomfortable, laughing awkwardly, "It's nothing like that... I agreed to only take pictures with good PR as long as he shows up or tells me when he will appear so I can meet my deadlines."

"So you have his number? Wanna send it my way?"

"He wouldn't be interested." Peter insisted.

"I tend to grow on people, almost like a fungus." Wade grinned. "But alright. You'll be my messenger then. We could use his help on the interrogation side of things."

"He doesn't beat up innocent people-"

"Who said they would be innocent?" Wade grinned, "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."

"I shouldn't," Peter shook his head, crossing his arms. "I have to make dinner and prep meals for the rest of the week. I only came out to see if you'd agree to work with me."

"Can I come over then?" Wade asked, staring at Peter's eyes through his own mask. "I never get home cooked meals."

Peter wanted to immediately reject the idea, but decided he may need to gain his trust. Otherwise, the merc would likely run off on his own and he didn't want anyone to get hurt. Tensing up his fingers, he reluctantly agreed, "Yeah, but can you put something on over the suit? You stick out too much."

"Yeah, okay. Can do, Petey. I'll wait 'til we get close to the station, otherwise we may miss the subway."

And so, they walked. Eventually stopped into an alley where Wade pulled the jeans and baggy hoodie over his clothes. Peter grunted in disdain and pulled the hood over Wade's head once he exited the alley, "Still stick out, but that helps."

"Believe me, I stick out much more when the mask comes off." Wade laughed, although he was entirely serious.

...

After the silent ride on the subway, littered with stares at the two of them, he suddenly wondered what it would be like at work if they heard about them teaming up.

Peter got tired of the silence and began to speak as he unlocked his apartment, "Out of curiosity, what is so noticable about you that the bright red suit pales in comparison?"

"Got any beer?" Wade asked, flipping the hood off and throwing his backpack on the small couch.

Not waiting for an answer, he peeked in the fridge to find only three. He opened one and sat on the couch, watching Peter begin to prep for cooking. He flipped up the bottom of his mask to drink from the bottle.

"Well, I guess you could call it a skin condition." Wade chuckled, "If you call being an overgrown raisin a skin condition. You could pick me out in any 'Where's Waldo?' In under 10 seconds."

Peter did not look back, too focused on preparing the food to notice. Regardless, he didn't like the idea of unmasking others without their consent to do so.

"Then why have you not been arrested, if you are so easy to recognize?" Peter asked, chopping up some raw meat.

"The big boys at SHIELD know me, X-Men know my identity- I'm out of the jurisdiction of small fry cops, for lack of a better term. What are you making, anyway?"

"Beef stir fry," Peter answered, thawing frozen veggies in the microwave. "It lasts a long time and hits three of five food groups."

"Then what do you use for the other two?" Wade asked, trying to remember the last time he didn't eat out of a take out bag. It was nice to have someone cooking for him again.

"Orange juice and some cheese sticks, usually." Peter answered, a bit off guard at how comfortable he felt in that moment. How oddly safe he felt, despite standing less than five feet away from a paid murderer. "What got you into the mercenary business, Deadpool?"

"Revenge, but then I realized I can kill some bad guys and get paid to do it." Wade rolled his mask up a tad more, from under his nose to over it so he could breathe better. He looked up from the couch, watching Peter move and his eyes settled on the younger man's butt. After a few moments of staring, he grew shocked.

"It couldn't be... You're Spider-Man, aren't you?" Wade asked, surprising Peter so violently that his forearm touched the skillet and he hissed in pain.

"Why do you say that?" Peter asked, finishing up what he was cooking.

"One of my many talents is that I never forget a face, another is that I never forget a really nice ass and you hiding it under those loose jeans doesn't hide it well enough from my keen eyes."

Peter turned the stove off, turning his back on the food, he had a mix of amusement and bewilderment on my face, "So you have been staring at my butt this entire time, which is creepy, by the way. Then, from that, you were able to identify that my butt is 'identical' to Spider-Man's? So, from your conclusion, that makes me him?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he teased. "Don't look so offended, Petey. I meant, show me your mask and I'll show you my face. Even Steven."

"Let's say I am Spider-Man-" Peter started, interrupted by Wade.

"And by using the hypothetical, implies you definitely are him, but go on."

"Why would I tell you my other identity? I would already be vulnerable by letting you into my apartment and letting you see my face."

"Maybe because barely anyone, if anyone, knows your real identity and it's made your double life lonely or something. Frankly, I just want some blackmail to see you in the suit up close and personal." Wade's grin widened, leaning forward. "I'm surprised you didn't jump when you saw my face. Most people will just see my hands and recoil, but my face is gnarly. How about I take off my mask first, as a sign of good faith?"

Peter weighed his options, he had practically asked for this when he agreed to let Deadpool over. However, there was no real benefit to him to know the mercenary's real identity; killing Peter to keep his identity secret was unlikely to be beneath him. On the other hand, though, he had gotten lonely. With no one knowing Spider-Man's real identity, he has lost what few friends he had and only held Aunt May close anymore.

Deadpool was sporadic, sure. A bit crazy, definitely. Too flirty for comfort, absolutely. But insincere? No. He seemed to really care about this kid Firefist, and Peter wanted to clear Russell's name so the boy could have a shot at a family stability that Peter never really did.

Besides, Deadpool was drawing at straws. He could always have him unmask, then decide whether to lie or not. Couldn't be difficult, he'd talked his way out of similar situations before. Not ass identification, mind you, but somewhat similar.

Or, he could always reveal Deadpool's whereabouts to SHIELD if he turned out to be a threat. Should be easy to find regardless, even in hiding. From what he could see, Deadpool's description was fairly accurate. Overgrown raisin, yup.

"Alright," Peter leaned against the counter. "You first."

Wade pulled off his mask without hesitation, without a doubt in his mind that Peter Parker was Spider-Man. He blinked a few times to adjust to the small change in light, watching Peter with interest as his expressions went through a range of emotions.

"So, whatcha think?" Wade asked, "Am I going to win America's Next Top Model?"

Peter suppressed a laugh, "No, but you might be runner up. Probably a lot of pity votes."

"You think saying it's my make-a-wish dream to win, that it'll help?" Wade smiled genuinely, his heart leaping a little at the sight of Peter's laugh.

"No amount of wishing can pretty up that face," Peter grinned, going back to portioning the meals. After he finished, he made himself and Deadpool each a small bowl.

Walking to the couch and giving Deadpool his bowl, followed by beginning to eat from his own. "What's your real name?"

"Wade Wilson, nice to meet ya, Petey." Wade paused eating and wrapped an arm around the back of the chair behind Peter. "Can't wait to see the suit on ya."

"Who said I was?" Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously to the side at Wade.

"Come on, Petey! I won't comment on your butt anymore, I swear."

"You swear?" Peter asked, to which Wade nodded.

...

Against his better judgement, Peter grabbed his backpack and changed into his suit in the bathroom. Upon coming out of the room, immediately followed with a swooning grunt from Wade.

"That's inappropriate." Peter muttered, shifting his weight to one side as he crossed his arms. Suddenly, he felt on display and it flustered him out a little.

"It wasn't a comment on your butt, that's all I swore to. Believe me, there is much more to admire here. Damn, Petey." After a moment, he cleared his throat, "Please change back, I can't focus on eating when you wear that."

"Seriously?" Peter groaned, regretting his decision already. Closing the door to the bathroom and locking it, he heard a muffled yeah seriously through the door.