A/N: A special thanks to the user unlikey yaoi pairing for her many kind words that propelled my fingers forward to complete this chapter in record time. I hope you all enjoy!
By the time Peter trudged back into his apartment that afternoon, he was ready to just lay down and sleep on the kitchen floor. Mustering the last of his strength, he resisted the urge to do so and made his way to his bedroom. Work assignments, schoolwork, and patrolling could wait for now. He needed sleep before he could even start to think about being productive.
In all honesty, his day hadn't even been too trying. He was used to juggling school, work, and his duties as Spider-man. While preparing for midterms had pushed today up there on the difficulty scale, he had definitely had worse. What had drained him so thoroughly was the constant nagging realization of his loneliness, and the strong desire to be back on that couch with Wade. At the very least, he was so exhausted that he fell into a deep sleep mere seconds after collapsing into bed, and was spared lingering on the disruptive thoughts any longer.
It was already dark outside by the time Peter woke up. His spirits were high, and he was refreshed to the extent that he didn't feel the least bit guilty about sleeping away the afternoon. He wiggled around in bed, reluctant to leave its comfort just yet. Instead, he laid there making a mental to-do list of everything he had to get done that weekend, but the list lengthened rapidly, effectively ruining his relaxation. With a groan, Peter rolled out of bed, assuring himself that things would calm back down once he got through the coming week.
For now, since it was already late, Peter figured he deserved to devote the remainder of the evening to enjoying himself. Still feeling a little disgusted for gorging so excessively the previous night, he grabbed some fruit and a glass of water from the kitchen, flipped on the television to some late night infomercials (his guilty pleasure), and sunk into the couch. He munched his dinner, blankly staring at the two women on screen parade around a dozen different colored blenders. His mind gradually wandered back to the previous evening. He missed Wade.
Even though the older man had a knack for embarrassing him, or at least assisting in putting him in embarrassing situations, he had become a surprisingly important part of his life. Thursday evenings were when he could really mellow out and let go of the week's cumulative stress and troubles. Now that his stress levels were peaking, he craved the merc's soothing presence. Peter snorted at the thought. A couple of months ago, he would've never believed such a word would apply to Deadpool, but he had been proven very wrong. Yes, he talked incessantly, and often about a nonsensical, overlapping jumble of topics, and he was messy, and crass, but because of that Peter felt like he could actually just relax and enjoy himself in his company. There was no need to put on airs, or fear judgement. Wade was like an oasis in his demanding life, or a hyperactive puppy.
He momentarily considered just swinging by the older man's apartment right then, but the merc was usually out of town for work (it was still a mystery to Peter how he even managed to make it back every week for movie nights). He was actually kind of relieved that the older man was probably gone, since he was in the sort of mindset where he might just have asked him to spoon. He laughed to himself, wondering how Wade would react if he did. He was actually fairly certain the merc would agree, and the idea sent an odd surge of happiness through him. Again contemplating how lonely and contact-deprived he'd been lately, Peter started wishing that he hadn't pulled away from the older man so quickly the other evening.
He felt himself blush at the idea, feeling like his train of thought was rapidly twisting into something he wasn't sure he was ready to approach. Still, it had felt so nice to be held; to feel the warmth, and touch, and pressure of the merc's body against his. Peter swallowed, embarrassed to still be reminiscing over it, and of the shameful itch growing inside of him at the thought of the older man. Without even realizing it, he was already too far gone to stop himself. No, this is wrong. I can't think of him like this. He's my friend! Even as Peter repeated those words to himself, his conscience was overpowered by a profound sense of longing. His self-restraint had been stretched too thin by now, and he squeezed his eyes shut in acquiescence to his lust, allowing himself to be consumed in fantasy. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling, and hesitantly slid his hand down the front of his pants.
Once again he was in Wade's living room. His back was pressed against the broad expanse of the older man's chest, and he could feel the heat and friction of his skin against his own. He could see the muscles moving in his scarred arms and hands as they moved to touch all over him, moved to touch him there. Peter submitted himself to those hands, savoring the way they traced every contour of his body hungrily, from his throat to his hips, to the gap between his thighs. He shivered and twitched. Weak whimpers worked their way from his lips. Wade nuzzled against the nape of his neck, his hot, ragged breaths dampening his skin there. Peter craned his neck to look back at the merc, barely able to keep his eyes open, the onslaught of pleasure from those hands having already worked him into a daze. Wade's rough lips curled into a lascivious grin, and all Peter wanted at that moment was to kiss him. But the older man wouldn't. He just kept grinning at him, watching the younger man desperately writhe in his arms, pumping his hand faster and faster until at last Peter fell apart in devastatingly delicious ecstasy, drowned in wave after crushing wave of searing pleasure as he released on his stomach, every muscle tensing and his strangled moans of pleasure echoing off the walls.
Reality slowly seeped back in, and once again Peter was sitting alone in his apartment. He looked down at his pants that had been haphazardly shoved down in his fervor, and his hands and stomach that were covered in sticky white shame. What am I doing? Why..? Why Wade? What do I want from him? There was a part of him that was impressed by just how turned on the thought of the older man had made him, but a significantly larger part of him was just plain confused. Am I... gay? No. No, that's not possible. I don't think I'd even be bisexual... Peter knew he wasn't just saying that to comfort himself. He had never before been attracted to a man, and would venture to guess that he never would be again. Maybe Wade was just a special case, and just maybe he had subconsciously known that for a while. Honestly, he felt pretty ok with that.
His main concern came not from the fact that the older man was indeed a man. He had always been confident enough in his sexuality to not worry about such things, even now that it was in question. Instead, it stemmed from the fact that they were friends, and it felt like some sort of dirty betrayal to think of him in such a way. Be that as it may, the evidence seemed undeniable: Peter Parker was smitten with Deadpool.
The next couple of days had passed quite normally for Peter. It had been a productive weekend, and he was feeling sufficiently prepared for his first midterm tomorrow morning. He had tried not to let himself get too distracted by his recent revelation with a decent amount of success, though he had caved a couple of times and let himself indulge in fantasy with minimal guilt. He had come to terms with the fact that he had feelings for Wade, but was still uncertain whether they were sincere or were born from his also newly realized loneliness. Regardless, he had started trying to brace himself for the next time they met so he wouldn't be an awkward mess.
Peter had showered, and was getting ready to head to bed when he heard a knock at his door. He could sense who it was, and just about sprinted to open the door, greeted by a mass of floral patterned material. It was Wade, carrying the friendship quilt he had been making for him.
"Greetings, Spidey!" Wade chimed while piling the quilt into Peter's arms.
"Hello!" Peter smiled wide, accepting the fluffy mass and stepping aside to let the merc in. He tried to hide his excess of excitement upon seeing him, but could tell he was failing. Luckily, Wade assumed he was just happy about his gift. The older man was glad that the kid had apparently gotten over his most recent bout of couch spooning-based embarrassment. He still gave off a somewhat nervous air, but he was smiling genuinely.
"Thank you for the quilt." Peter hugged it to his body, delighted when he caught a faint waft of the merc's scent on it. "I can't believe that you finished it so quickly..."
"I just brought it with me when I went on missions, and worked on it when I was doing surveillance, or scouting an area." He shrugged as though it was the most natural thing in the world for a grown man to be doing arts and crafts in his downtime while stalking the people he'd been hired to kill. Peter gave him a look, but didn't question him further on the topic.
"I don't suppose you have time to stay a while?" The younger man asked tentatively, looking up at him with feigned nonchalance.
"Unfortunately, not tonight, Spidey. Duty calls!" Wade snickered at the word 'duty', but his amusement was cut short when he noticed how dejection immediately filled the kid's big hazel eyes. Peter scratched the back of his head with his free hand and turned away, still holding the quilt tightly to his chest.
"Ah, of course. Then I guess I'll see you this Thursday?" The tone of his voice was such that, for a moment, the merc seriously considered canceling his hit for the evening. Aw... He looks so sad! Why does he look so sad?There was a little spark of something inside of him at that moment that he couldn't quite place. After a significant, albeit brief internal conflict, Wade smiled weakly and nodded.
"See you Thursday." He headed back for the door, but hesitated. "I have a surprise for you that I think you'll like." Peter seemed to brighten a bit and bid him goodbye.
Wade did not have a surprise ready. He had said it spur of the moment, just wanting to say something to lighten the kid's mood a little. He'd been caught off guard when Peter looked at him that way, and felt strangely guilty for leaving. (He had hoped, but not expected that the kid might be as invested in their friendship as he was.) He had wanted to stay, really. If it were up to him, they'd hang out all the time, but his work as a mercenary had him traveling to all sorts of places, often for extended periods of time. It was only by working efficiently during the rest of the week that he was able to make time every Thursday, and he didn't want to ruin their ritual. Now he had to think up something exciting for Spidey.
I can dress up in drag... [No, we've done that too many times before.] But it's fun! [Yes, but it's supposed to be for him, not our own entertainment.] I'm going to do it anyways... He let the idea drop for now, figuring he'd think of something closer to time, needing to focus on work for the time being.
After Wade had left, Peter curled up on his bed, wrapped in the quilt. He laid there shamelessly nuzzling against the fabric and inhaling the lingering scent of the merc. If he hadn't been before, he was now absolutely certain that he had it bad for Wade.
Over the next few days, between exams, Peter obsessed over what might be in store for him that Thursday. Somehow he managed to restrain himself and the ever increasing distraction that his crush had become, and made it through the week without spiraling out of control. After he finished his last midterm on Thursday afternoon, he practically skipped home, eager to see Wade again. Through a short text conversation the day before, they had agreed to meet at the merc's apartment again. Peter took a quick shower, and then sat around his apartment, restlessly willing time to pass faster. Finally, 6:00 rolled around.