Peter wasn't avoiding Deadpool. He wasn't, not really. It was just that he'd gotten extremely busy with work, and new ideas and experiments just kept popping into his head. It wasn't like he'd locked himself in his lab for days just to avoid Deadpool. He'd been really quite productive.
[Who are you trying to convince?]
{I thought you were a better liar than this. Didn't we teach you anything?}
Peter sighed and dropped the wires he'd been fiddling with. So maybe he was avoiding the hero, but he wasn't scared to run into him.
{I call bull!}
[I think everyone can smell that lie.]
"Alright! Fine! I'm avoiding that stupid do-gooder! Are you happy now?" Peter shouted, tossing up his hands. "This would never have happened if you two had minded your own damn business."
[We don't really have our own business to mind.]
{We're like your conscience.}
Peter leaned back on his chair and covered his eyes with his forearm. He released a humourless laugh. "If you two are my conscience, I am so fucking screwed."
[Swearing so early in the morning?]
"I'm a grown man," Peter grumbled. "I can swear whenever I like."
{Preach it sister!}
[That is wrong on so many levels.]
"Why are we even having this conversation?" Peter asked, picking up the faint sound of footsteps walking along the hall. He ignored them. "We all know why I'm here."
{Because you're a scaredy cat?}
[Because you're afraid of getting hurt.]
The sound of knocking interrupted the conversation. Peter was on his feet faster than you could say "what". No one knocked on his door – unless he'd ordered pizza. He didn't recall doing so, nor did he smell anything resembling pizza.
[Someone's lost?]
{I don't even believe that…}
Peter got to his feet and made his way to the front door. The apartment was modest, so it took no time at all for him to be standing in front of his door, listening intently as the person on the other side shifted nervously.
They knocked again, and Peter opened the door quickly, ready to attack if he needed to. He froze in surprise, the boxes going silent in his head, when he was confronted with Deadpool. Deadpool, who was wearing a red hoodie and worn jeans, a cap covering his face. His bare hands were stuffed into his pockets.
Deadpool, who looked conspicuously out of place – and who shouldn't even know where Peter lived.
"Hey kid," Deadpool said, somehow stepping into Peter's apartment without touching him. He walked in and whistled. "Nice place."
[Are we hallucinating now?]
{The fuck?}
"What – how – why the hell are you here?" Peter demanded, tongue tripping over the words flying from his mouth. "How do you know where I live? What do you want?"
Deadpool took off his hat, avoiding looking at Peter's face. "I was worried about you. Haven't seen you around for a few weeks."
Peter gritted his teeth. "Good guys don't worry about bad guys," he snapped, ignoring the way his heart fluttered in his chest. He gestured to the open door. "Get out."
"Hey now careful, Spider. I might start to think you've been avoiding me." It was said jokingly, but Peter caught the half-serious note in Deadpool's voice.
[He knows!]
{Baton down the hatches lads! Dive, dive, dive!}
"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," Peter replied after a short pause. Like that would convince anyone. "How did you even find me?" Peter picked at the flaking paint restlessly. What was he supposed to do? It was like the universe was laughing at him – the second he'd decided not to act on the troublesome, annoying, frankly unnecessary feelings that were taking root inside of him, the very focus of said feelings had appeared at his door.
{I'm lucky we're in love in every way,} Yellow sang.
Deadpool shrugged, a smile splitting his face. "I'm a fairly intelligent man with a few connections," he replied, flopping onto the couch and basically making himself at home.
Peter ground his teeth together. "That isn't getting out," he snapped, finally letting the door close. If worst came to worst, he could just throw Deadpool out a window. "What do you want from me?"
Deadpool shrugged. "I said it already, didn't I? I was worried about you kid."
Rage flashed hot and strong, the taste of blood filling Peter's mouth. "I'm not a kid," he snarled, body dropping to the floor.
[That was really patronising.]
{We have new toys to play with!}
"I thought you were against killing him again," Peter hissed, dodging Deadpool's well placed punch. "You can't just go changing your tune."
[This is entirely different.]
{Agreed. We aren't children.}
Peter launched himself at Deadpool, pinning the bigger man to the couch. "You shouldn't have come," he said, his voice rough and low – not with desire. With anger. Yes, anger. "You should have stayed far, far away from me."
Deadpool didn't even struggle, staring up at Peter with a cheeky grin.. "I'm not scared of you, kid," he replied with a low chuckle that did things to Peter's stomach.
[How insulting. I really think we should hurt him now. Just to remind him what we're capable of.]
{And I think he'd look nice writhing in pain.}
[Alright, that too.]
{He's growing on you?}
[Like a fungus.]
"Is that so?" Peter breathed, privately relishing the feel of those hard muscles beneath him. He let himself fantasise about Deadpool pinninghim to the couch, but only for a moment. Because that would never happen. He slid off the larger man and headed into the kitchen. "Want a drink? Promise I won't poison it."
"I don't think I can trust you."
Peter snorted a laugh. "That's probably the most intelligent thing to come out of your mouth."
[We couldn't poison him anyway.]
{Can we sedate him?}
[Maybe?]
"Only one way to find out," Peter muttered, slipping a pill – another one of his concoctions – into one of the glasses. He walked out and offered the glass without the pill to Deadpool, who looked at it suspiciously before reaching for the other glass. Peter pouted.
Deadpool finished his glass quickly and went back to surveying the apartment. "What the hell!" he exclaimed when he got to the bedroom, which was still a giant web. "Is that blood?"
Peter ambled up beside him and shrugged. "Probably. Doesn't matter – I'm healed." Besides, he could make himself some new web-shooters. "I've been busy anyway. That's why I haven't been around."
"I haven't heard of any mercenary jobs lately."
Peter smiled wryly – a hero keeping an eye on mercenary jobs? "Looking to make some extra money? I hear the hero business doesn't pay well."
{You get paid donuts.}
[Lots of zeros. Nothing in front of them.]
{Except more zeros!}
[I think everyone understand now.]
Deadpool blinked a little blearily. "I don't need the money that comes with mercenary work," he said, taking a seat on the couch. He glared at his glass. "The fuck did you give me?"
Peter shrugged. "A glass of water, Pooly. Mighta had a little something special in it, but I figured with that neat healing factor it wouldn't affect you." Peter grinned, setting his glass down. "Looks like I was wrong."
"What are you even planning – you can't kill me." His words slurred in interesting ways.
[Uh, yes we can.]
{We've done it before.}
"Maybe not permanently," Peter allowed, studying Deadpool's face. "But I've been very busy, and I am interested in how that healing factor of yours holds up against my intellectual genius."
[Do you even know the meaning of the word modesty?]
{He knows the word 'lie'. Also, his eyes are nice.}
[…He has good bone structure.]
"You must have been a looker before the cancer," Peter muttered, not missing the way Deadpool's eyes narrowed. "Not that you're bad looking now. I mean, the scars are badass." He poked one experimentally, oddly fascinated by the texture. Deadpool tried to bat his hand away, but the drug was affecting him more strongly now.
"First, you'll lose muscle function," Peter murmured, placing his hand against the lax muscles in Deadpool's arm. "And then you won't be able to talk. Any last words?"
"This is bullshit," Deadpool managed to say before his jaw went slack.
[Classy.]
{We like you even more now!}
"We're not discussing that!" Peter snapped. He looked back to Deadpool. "I'm actually rather impressed that you're still awake. The next thing to go will be your sight. Hope you aren't scared of the dark." Deadpool made a gagging noise that sounded oddly sarcastic, but Peter wasn't about to let him have the last word.
"I have a lab downstairs. I'll tie you up and then we can get kinky, okay?"
