"What's that look for?"

My eyes, even though only inches from his, avoid Wade's brown eyes at all costs. He looks completely different with this makeup on. I bet if Monica saw him right now, she'd jump his bones. However, I honestly feel weird about it. Sure he looks like himself, but not like…himself. You know? Wade can see right through my reaction. I know this is how he wants to look, but it's not him.

"I'm done," I say stepping back and putting Monica's makeup back so that she won't know I used it.

His smile is from ear to ear as he stands up and looks into the mirror. Wade's jaw drops slightly, but he recovers as he touches his face here and there. Maybe if he realizes that I like him for him, and not his skin, he will stop tearing himself down constantly. Judging by his excited eyes, I can tell that's not what is going to happen.

He turns to me and his smile fades. "You're still giving me that look."

"What look?" I push my hair behind my ear.

"You don't like the makeover?" he smirks. "I look like a model and you're…sad?"

"It's just…not the face that I lo-" I clear my throat to stop that word from coming out.

His lips pull up on one side as he catches my slip up. "The face you what?"

Just at that moment, the oven dings. I smile and dart out of the bathroom. The smell of cheap Mexican food fills the kitchen and living room. I get the oven mitts from the drawer and get the food out. I can hear the sink running in the bathroom as I place the tray on the stove top to cool off. The sink shuts off and I spin around to see Wade coming out wiping his face on a washcloth.

He stares down at all the makeup staining the towel. "This is enough makeup for all the contestants in a child pageant show."

I shake my head and grab two plates from the cabinet. "I hope you like chimichangas."

I start putting one on a plate for him, but he doesn't answer me, so I turn around to ask him what his problem is. His face is frozen in shock. Does he hate chimis? What did I do? He licks his lips and smiles like he was just given a puppy.

"Goddamn, you are perfect."

My face flushes. "What?"

He walks over to me and grabs my face pulling my lips to his for a quick but deep kiss. "I love chimichangas."

A little dazed, I watch him walk around the counter and sit on the bar stool. "I um…you're welcome?"

We eat in silence, other than Wade's occasional moaning over his food. After we finish, I lay down on the couch and tell him to come lay down with me. Soon we are spooning and watching The Price Is Right. He puts his arm around my stomach and I hold onto his hand, playing with his fingers. He props his head up with his other arm to see the television over my head. A part of me wants to focus completely on the show, but another part of me is all too aware that his dick is only fabric away from my body.

"Hey," he whispers gently, making me all the more anxious. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just getting tired…you know…" I lie obviously.

"I can head home. It's getting late."

I get off the couch and he follows suit. My face is burning as my eyes land on his crotch. It's not like he's sporting any wood or anything, but I can't help myself. I quickly look away and clear my throat. The clock says it's almost midnight. Wade shouldn't be walking the street at this time. I shake my head; he's Deadpool. How did I forget about that?

"Wade?" I say as he grabs his sweatshirt.

"Hmm?" he says pausing in front of me.

I take a deep breath before asking, "Do you want to spend the night?"

He scrunches his forehead. "Are you sure?"

"No," I say putting my hands up. "I didn't mean like…hey let's have sex…I meant do you want to stay over so you don't have to walk home…"

His smile makes my heart flutter. "Yeah."

I lead him to the bedroom and shut the door behind us. He puts his sweatshirt on the desk and takes off his shoes. Even though we aren't about to have sex, I can't stop staring at him. This man, who is a superhero and cares about me, is perfect to me. I tell him he can sleep in his boxers, but no going further than that. Of course, he laughs at me and makes a snide joke. I go into my closet and change into a tank top and shorts. Should I wear a bra? Nah, he won't be seeing my nips through this; we will be under the blankets.

I come out and he's already under the blankets with his eyes closed. His chest rises and lowers with each breath. I notice that his whole chest and arms are also scarred, which I should have realized would be the case, but the sight shocks me at first. He's still gorgeous to me. His eyes open and find me. His sleepy smile gives me butterflies as he pats the bed space next to him. I turn the light off and crawl into bed.

He shifts so that we are facing each other. The city lights coming through the thin curtains allows us to dimly see our faces. I scoot closer to him and cuddle up to him. He gasps lightly as I touch his bare skin like he was assuming I would freak out about his scars.

"Sarah?" he whispers into the darkness of my room.

I look up at him. "Yeah?"

"What are you thinking about?"

I smile and look away. "Oh, you know. Dicks."

He scoffs. "Dicks? Plural? Who's dicks exactly?"

"Don't worry," I kiss his jaw. "One of them is yours. What are you thinking about?"

He pauses. "Dicks."

I laugh into the air between us. "One of them yours?"

"Exclusively."

We giggle together and sigh. He clears his throat and asks another question. "Do you really…love me?"

My heart skips and I sit up. He doesn't move, but I can see his eyes watching me in the dark. I slide my tank top strap back into place as I contemplate what he just asked me. My eyes stay locked onto his as I nod slowly.

"I really love you."

I hear him sigh as he pulls me back down to cuddle with him again. I listen to his breathing as I begin to fall asleep in his arms. Just as I slip into a dream, I hear him whisper, "I love you too."