Slight NSFW ahead.
Changes
{Part 3}
"Wade, please come back."
"Wade, hey, listen, I know that you changed your number but Stark got the new one for me and I love you so please come home."
"Where are you, Wade? I just – I need you so much."
"Please call me. My number hasn't changed."
"Heyyyy, so – it's possible I got the tiniest bit way too drunk, and I just – I miss you so much, you know? And I've lost so – so – so fucking much, and I just didn't want to lose you, okay? I wanted you safe and at home and with me and fucking hell, Wilson, where are you? Even Stark can't find you. I mean, he's probably not even trying but – Dear God. Oh God. Oh God."
Sex with Wade was different than sex with MJ. Well, for one, the tools were different. But what really made the difference was – well, it was how eager Wade was.
Not that Peter didn't respond positively. He was addicted. When Wade was out of town on a mission, he would literally shake. But there were things that Peter wanted to do – introduce him to his aunt, for example – and whenever he brought them up, Wade would introduce him to yet another way to make him cum.
Wade had just done one of those things to him, and they were both lying naked on the bed. Peter was stroking Wade lazily, kissing him on the mouth. "I liked that," he said as he broke away. "What you did just now."
Wade grinned. "You're welcome to return the favor."
Peter almost did, too. He was thinking of his mouth on Wade's cock, remembering what he'd been feeling only moments ago, and the two made him hard again with seconds. But when his hand let go, nothing replaced it.
"Wade," he began.
"Peter," he replied.
"Why won't you let me introduce you to my aunt?"
Wade was suddenly very quiet. Peter touched his face gently. "What is it?" he asked, sensing something wrong. "Does it have anything to do with – with my – "
"It's not got anything to do with you, Peter, Jesus," Wade sighed. He sat up, and Peter rose as well, sitting on his knees. "It's just – well – fuck. Do you – do you remember when you saw me without a mask for the first time?"
Peter smiled. "Yeah. I kissed you."
"For the first time," Wade said. "It was amazing. It was also the only time I've ever had a positive reaction to it. Peter, nobody likes my face. You don't like my face. Or my skin. I'm… I'm far from perfect. I know it."
"Wade, you're beautiful," Peter whispered.
Wade looked away. "No, I'm not," he said, and his voice cracked.
Peter leaned forward, but he didn't kiss him. He placed his palms on Wade's chest, spread his fingers out, and then quietly whispered, "Look at me. Look at me. Look at me."
Wade looked at him reluctantly.
"You're scarred," he said. "Of course you are. I'm not going to say I wouldn't take you any other way, but I also don't care. You're beautiful, Wade Wilson, and I love you."
Peter kissed him, once, softly.
"I love you," he whispered, and then he kissed him again. "I love you." He kissed him again. "I love you." Kiss. "I love you." Kiss. "I love you."
Wade was still quiet. Peter grabbed his hand, and raised it to his lips. He kissed Wade's knuckles, and, without letting go, he kissed his way down from Wade's jaw to his collarbone, his shoulder to his chest, making his way down to Wade's abdomen before stopping abruptly and repeating himself one more time: "I love you."
"I love you too." It's so quiet it's barely there but it was, and Peter smiled.
"You don't have to come meet her," he said. "But I want the two most important people in my life to know each other. Is that okay?"
Wade hesitated, but then nodded, just once.
"Thank you," Peter said, and then repaid him.
"Wade, this is Peter, call me back – shit, shit, the city is on fire pretty much, listen, I love you, okay? Please come back to New York, so we can talk. Please."
"Oh, you must be Wade!" Aunt May's voice reached Peter in the kitchen, who wasn't cooking as much as he was making sure that nothing caught on fire. "It's so nice to meet you, finally. Come in, come in. Peter's in the kitchen, I'm going to go finish setting the table."
"Not cooking, is he?" Wade stepped into the kitchen, joining his boyfriend in front of the oven. He wrapped his hands around Peter's waste from behind, kissing his cheek.
"Just making sure everything stays not on flames," Peter replied, looking behind him to make sure that Aunt May wasn't behind him. He added in a whisper, "She has a habit of interrupting kisses, just so you know."
Wade laughed, and Peter loved that sound far too much. "I love you," he said, feeling it too much not to say it.
"I love you too, " Wade replied, spinning Peter so they faced each other. He leaned down, and –
BEEP
"Oh, that's the lasagna!" cried Aunt May.
The food was great, the conversation flowed. May never mentioned Wade's scars once, and indulged some of the more bizarre conversation threads. Wade was smiling all through dinner, grinning even while he was eating (which was sort of gross, actually). Peter was on cloud nine.
Later, when they'd escorted May to her cab, and Wade promised to send flowers her way, and they'd finished cleaning up, and they were lying on the big couch entangled in each other, debating what they should watch that evening, Peter stopped breathing for a second.
I'm happy, he thought, and this was so odd, because he'd never been this content before. He was always worrying, always Spider-Man first and Peter Parker second and right now –
He lunged forward and kissed Wade, even though he'd been saying something. He didn't care. He wanted Wade so much and he loved Wade and Wade loved him and wanted him and he was happy and he was content and it was new and it was amazing.
"What was that for?" Wade asked.
"I love you," Peter said. He then took the remote away from Wade. "Let's just… not watch anything tonight."
"Wade, I know that I've sent you dozens of messages, but this one is important. I'm in trouble. Someone thinks – someone thinks I know where you are, and they're… they're not happy Peter Parker isn't telling. Spider-Man is off the grid for now, so's aunt May, and I think they know where I live. The Avengers are out of town and nobody's answering their phones, please, Wade, I need you. Please."
"You look like a mess," Peter said. It wasn't the first time Wade had shown up at his apartment, covered in blood, but it was definitely the worst. "Come on, you can use the shower."
He helped Wade in, peeling off the suit like one might peel off dead skin. It was sticky with blood, some of it Wade's, and Wade himself looked like a mess. He ended up washing him, because Wade was too tired to move, and then he let him crash on Peter's bed, taking up the entire double bed with his still naked body. Peter covered him with a blanket, and went back to the second room, where he'd been working.
Half an hour, a phone rings. It was Wade's, and one look at the phone number made him realize it's probably another mission.
What should I do?
Shit.
He swiped to the right, answering the phone call. "Hello?"
"That's not Deadpool." The voice on the other side was cold, heavy. Reminds him of Wolverine a bit, in the gruffness.
"He's asleep," Peter said honestly.
"I'll call back," the voice said, and then the line went dead.
Peter stared at the phone for a while.
He then blocked the number and deleted call history. He went into Wade's email and marks the account with the same name as spam (the password for the phone, as Peter had discovered a couple weeks previously, was chimichangas). Wade never even had to know.
Peter then locked the phone and put it back where he'd found it.
SHIT.
He stared ahead for a moment – perhaps a bit longer – before he heard a groan coming from his bedroom. Rushing to the room, he found Wade still naked, but no longer bleeding or asleep. "Hey, Baby Boy," he said, grinning. "I slept like a baby. Best nap ever."
Peter stepped closer and kissed his forehead. "C'mon. We'll get you some clothes."
"You're here," Peter says as he stares at Wade. He's wearing full mercenary gear, and Peter feels very sad all of a sudden.
"And you're not dead," Wade says. He steps through the doorway and looks around for a moment.
"Nothing's really changed around here."
"Have you?" asks Wade. He looks him straight in the eye and says, "I killed all of them."
"Oh," says Peter. "They're gone?"
"You're safe. And I've got a plane to catch."
"Wade – "
"Parker, you do not get to just – "
"I didn't ask if you killed all of them. I just made sure that they were all gone. That's… that's a change, right?" he looked at Wade, and Wade looked away.
"Please, just – just stay."
It didn't take long for Peter to take control of, well, everything. Wade was still getting jobs, Peter wasn't stopping the flow completely… they just happened to be mostly low-risk, only semi-bloody hits. And sure, it was partly to ease his conscience; but if he was honest, it was mostly about seeing Wade hurt like that.
It was also, partly, because he realized that Wade was indestructible, and for some reason, this made him jealous. But he only admitted that to himself in the dark, when Wade was away.
Most of the time they were together. Peter was still a busy bee, but he found that he was actually rather good getting around it. Meeting Wade in dark alleys between the Bugle and saving the day became the norm. When Wade was away, Peter worked overtime, met his aunt for lunch, talked to people. When Wade was in New York, which was more and more as time went on, Peter worked exactly the amount of time he had to, called his aunt during lunch hour, and tweeted every once in a while.
Wade never knew he was being cheated out of jobs, and Peter got to spend more time with his boyfriend. There was nothing wrong with that.
Except there was.
A mission gone wrong brought Wade home injured worse than ever. "That'll scar," he said quietly, and Peter didn't even have it in him to tell him the truth, that he would kiss it just like every other scar he found on Wade's body. Peter made sure nothing even remotely dangerous got through for the next week.
He got cocky, and he was caught.
He was coming back to Wade's apartment that night, after a long three hours of fighting a wannabe super-villain. It mainly gave him a headache – the fight itself took no time, clean up took forever. When he reached the apartment, the light was still on – which didn't worry him that much. They stayed up for each other sometimes.
Three things tipped him off something was wrong: Wade wasn't singing when he came in. Wade didn't kiss him back. Wade was on Peter's computer. And yet, it took him a few good seconds to register that Wade looked angry.
"You've been accessing my emails," Wade said, and Peter knew it was the end.
They're kissing, very suddenly. The door shuts, and clothes are being torn off, and oh God and fuck and yes, just like that.
Somebody broke a lamp, but Peter has no idea who. His sweater vest is literally torn to pieces on the floor. He's holding Wade, who's fallen asleep on his chest, despite the fact that Wade is taller. And he's thinking.
I've changed, he thinks. He thinks he might finally be worthy of Wade. Maybe Wade will love him more now.
In the morning, Wade says it best:
"I'm still leaving. And it's not because I don't love you, because I do. It's because I've made you a worse person. You were Spider-Man, and now you're Peter Parker, and I'm not sure I can handle that burden.
"And, Peter, you're wonderful, you really are. But sometimes I look at you and remember just how hopeful and young you really are. I can't die, you know. I can't. Even if we stayed together forever, at a certain point, you'd be the one changing without me."
Wade kisses him.
"I love you, Peter Parker, but you're better off without me."
And Spider-Man listens, even if Peter Parker doesn't.
{Epilogue}
Wade Wilson is Deadpool, and Deadpool is a mercenary, and mercenaries kill people for money. Only, lately, Deadpool has been working with Captain America – no, wait, he's been working with Steve Rogers, former Captain America, and he's been doing it pro-bono, and he's both ashamed and unapologetic.
Wade Wilson loves Peter Parker, and Peter Parker is a photographer, and photographers rarely ever succeed in life. Only, lately, Parker Industries have been blooming, and Peter is more selfish now.
Peter Parker is Spider-Man, and Spider-Man is your friendly neighborhood hero, and friendly neighborhood heroes work for the greater good. Only lately, he's been employed as Peter Parker's personal bodyguard, and this is not, strictly speaking, the greater good.
Deadpool has a family. Spider-Man has a company. This is all very strange and unacceptable.
One day, they are united under the Avengers flag by none-other than former Captain America, Steve Rogers. Within what feels like minutes, Spider-Man is gone. Within what feels like hours, Wade Wilson is knocking on Peter Parker's door.
They have a drink, and they discuss life. Peter Parker is more selfish, Wade Wilson is less, Peter Parker is richer, Wade Wilson is less. Peter Parker is no longer a photographer, but he is still both afraid and wary of Deadpool. Wade Wilson is no longer an unknown mercenary, but he is still both in awe and in lust with Spider-Man.
If you stood both "Spider-Men" in front of Wade Wilson, he'd be able to tell which one is Peter in a heartbeat.
They don't kiss and make up, because life isn't a fairytale, and because sometimes there are explosion a block down. But it isn't Peter Parker who suits up and leaves, it's Wade Wilson. And somehow, despite all the changes, Peter Parker and Wade Wilson are still in love.
Wade Wilson is still insane, and Peter Parker is still a scientist. Wade Wilson still loves chimichangas, and Peter Parker still loves his aunt. Wade Wilson is still in love with Peter Parker, but he is long since disillusioned about Spider-Man. Peter Parker is still in love with Wade Wilson, but he is long since more forgiving of Deadpool.
And if they meet for a drink every once in a while after that, and if they reminisce and laugh, and if every once in a while they kiss –
Well, this is a love story, after all.
A/N: That's it. That's all of it.
You're welcome to message me with asks at my writing tumblr at any time
JustGail