A/N: Hello again! Here's another comparatively lengthy chapter. I hope you enjoy!
Thanks to carolinthesheep, Lokihetfield, Ie-maru, donnyd312, unlikey yaoi pairing, and Requiescat in Pace il Ti Amor! So many kind words! :D You're all lovely and excellent, and I thoroughly appreciate the support. (Thank you too, anonymous guest!)
It hadn't taken Wade long to come to conclusion that he'd need to apologize to Peter in person. This wasn't the kind of situation that could be rectified with a simple text. However, his best efforts to do so proved futile. He stopped by the kid's apartment several times, waited by the door for almost an hour on a couple of occasions, and even tried searching the city, from the Daily Bugle to Peter's university. After two fruitless days, he finally gave in and resorted to texting out of desperation. To his relief, Spidey actually responded, telling him everything was fine and that he'd see him that Thursday. The merc was still quite anxious, not quite convinced by the kid's curt responses, but figured there wasn't much more he could do until he was able to talk to him in person. He decided to try to be patient for the next few days, and use the time in between to formulate a suitable apology.
Peter, on the other hand, was a bit of a mess. Honestly, he'd been doing his damnedest to avoid Wade, hiding whenever he sensed him nearby. He had even sat in his bedroom closet for several minutes more than once in the past couple of days, so afraid of seeing the older man when he came knocking at his door. All he wanted was a few days to himself to think things through. He felt guilty for avoiding Wade, but he was certain that he couldn't handle seeing him just yet. He at least made sure the merc knew that everything was ok (or would be, eventually), and that he'd still meet for the next movie night. Luckily, that seemed to appease the older man, as he stopped dropping by.
The days slipped by, running together as mere background noise. He was too consumed with alternating between cruelly chastising himself for his actions, and desperately trying to relive them. The cycle would start with him wishing he'd never kissed Wade in the first place, telling himself none of this would have happened if he hadn't acted spur-of-the-moment. This was immediately followed by regret for having lost control a second time, giving in to the merc's goading. If only he'd been able to ignore the older man's pestering for a bit longer, he'd probably have eventually lost interest and stopped pestering him. Then, of course, this led to the issue of having so immediately, submissively melted in Wade's arms, allowing him take it way, way across the line.
In spite of all of his self-berating, around this point, Peter would start mulling over the way the merc had pinned him, the way he'd touched and kissed him so fiercely. He knew there was no point in wondering why, sure that Wade had just been caught up in the moment. Still, the older man had definitely been about to take his pants off. Even if he was just going with the flow, it nonetheless indicated that he'd not only been willing to have sex with Peter, but was willing to initiate it.
The idea sprung forth a tiny glimmer of hope that he didn't want. He was all too aware that a willingness to have sex with a person didn't equate to liking them, or even being attracted to them. Sometimes it really was only about scratching an itch with the first willing person. He tried not to acknowledge the unwelcome feeling, but it remained there, persistent, which of course only lead to another barrage of confusion and belittling. His mind was going in loops for days without making any progress, but what he hated the most though was feeling out of control. He was well aware that he was talking himself in circles, stewing in his own negativity, but he couldn't seem to drag himself out of it. He felt like an idiotic, immature kid.
By Thursday morning, he was in the same sorry state: haggard, mentally drained, and sure that he was still nowhere near ready to see the merc again.
Wade couldn't recall ever feeling quite so anxious. He'd forgone a big hit just to spend more time preparing the best "I'm Sorry I'm An Insufferable Ass & I Promise I Won't Do It Again" dinner he could. He even made a banner; glitter, streamers, stick-figure Deadpool groveling at the feet of stick-figure Spider-man (complete with googly eyes for added effect), the works!
Hell, not just a banner either. He never cared much for cleaning up, and though he could cook rather well, he usually didn't bother to since it was so much easier to go out (he only pulled out the pots and pans on ultra-special occasions). But he knew how much mess bothered the kid, and he remembered how much Peter had enjoyed it when he surprised him with dinner, so he went to great pains to thoroughly clean his apartment, and to plan a lavish meal. He even planned to show hours of infomercials that Peter not-so-secretly enjoyed instead of the usual movies.
He spent the hour before Peter was supposed to arrive pacing back and forth: he'd sit at the table for a few seconds, go to fiddle with the banner a little, sit on the couch for a moment, check to make sure the infomercials he'd recorded were ready to go, walk through the kitchen to ensure meal preparations were in order, and repeat. Seven o'clock finally rolled around, and Wade was spring-loaded, ready to answer the door. Minutes passed by, and nothing. He started walking the length of his kitchen again, wringing his hands. Everything's fine. He's been late before. He's a busy kid! (Sure, sure. Except last time he didn't have a reason to want to avoid us.) [Or to hate us...] Shut up, shut up. It's fine. He'll be here in a bit.
It was 8:23 by the time Wade started seriously considering what the voices said. Peter hadn't even answered the text he sent him around 7:30. In fact, he hadn't heard from him since a few days ago when he'd insisted that he was alright, and that he'd meet him at his place at 7:00 pm. The merc started to question himself. Maybe he'd just misread the text the dozens of times he'd obsessively checked it to make sure he had everything ready on time for that night. He checked again, but it was still the same, "I'll meet you at your place again. How about around 7?"
They'd agreed, so why wasn't he here? (Told you so. You ruined it. He doesn't want to be around us anymore.) Wade felt a deep sinking feeling in his chest, but not from dejection, no. You and I both know that he's not that kind of person. If he says he'll be there, he's going to be there. Even if Petey hated us, he would say it directly, not pretend like it's ok and then bail. Something's wrong. The voices remained doubtful, but the merc knew that something was amiss, and headed out the door without a second thought.
Wade decided the first place he should look was, of course, the kid's apartment. He chose to forego the formality of knocking on the door, teleporting himself straight up to the fire escape outside of Peter's living room window. There weren't any lights on, but as soon as he peered through, he felt something was off. He worked his fingers under the frame and quietly pried the window open, crawling inside without a sound. He felt his way towards the lamp he knew was close by, fumbling to turn it on in the dark. Yellow light flooded the room, and there on the floor in front of the couch lay Peter, fully dressed in his Spider-man suit, dripping blood onto the already large puddle staining the carpet beneath him.
The merc felt his heart jumped into his throat. He rushed to kneel by the kid's side, but hesitated to actually reach out and check for a pulse, afraid of not finding one if he tried. Please be alive. Please be alive. Please be alive. He sat there for a moment, hovering over Peter's body, his hands outstretched but not touching as he mentally chanted his plea. Before he could pull himself out of his haze and do something useful, Peter shifted with a groan.
A wave of relief washed over the older man as the kid struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. He finally moved, snaking an arm under Peter's shoulders to support him, scooting forward to lay the kid's head on his lap. Peter lifted a hand, but grimaced in pain and quickly lowered it.
"Could you help me? I can't really raise my arms. Will you take my mask off?" Wade complied, using his one free hand to do so as gently as possible, noting his sickly pale complexion, and the dark bags under his eyes. The merc swallowed, but remained uncharacteristically silent, watching warily as Peter shook his head, loosening the sweat-dampened hair that stuck to his forehead. He let his head roll back, his eyes still closed as he inhaled shakily before finally speaking.
"Thanks. It gets rather stifling after a while."
"What happened?" Wade felt a strange chill work its way through his body, which was only worsened when the kid started speaking in a nonchalant tone.
"Eh, the usual. Fighting bad guys. Got a little careless and got knocked around a bit. Nothing too serious. I came back and laid down to take a nap before heading to your place, but I guess passed out for longer than I anticipated. Sorry I missed our movie night." Peter smiled weakly. "I'll make it up to you next time."
The older man fought back a surge of irritation. "That doesn't matter! Don't worry about it. Worry about yourself." Wade realized his tone sounded a bit harsh, and made an effort to speak softer as he continued. "So why are you laying on the floor, next to the couch?"
"I... I didn't want to get it dirty."
"You couldn't even cover up!? You're freezing cold!" Wade's voice came out unnaturally high and strained.
"I was too tired to make it to the bedroom."
"The quilt is literally right next to you."
"I didn't want to ruin it. You worked so hard..." Wade bit back another uncharacteristic wave of anger, wondering why he would be worried about such stupid things when he was on the brink of death. "Don't worry. I'm hanging in there." Peter snorted at his own bad pun, but was startled when the older man raised his voice.
"Are you an idiot!? Where's your sense of self-preservation!? I always thought you were a smart kid, but god was I wrong..." The merc continued to chide him, a foreign mixture of relieved, irritated, and frightened.
Peter finally opened his eyes, gazing up at him with a mocking smirk. "Oh, shut up, you hypocrite. At least I actually made it into my apartment before I fell asleep. I'm not the one who naps in alley ways. Besides, I'm fine- wait. A-are you... crying?"
"No, I am not." Wade denied in a stern voice, but Peter could see the faint dark circles forming on the fabric of his mask.
"Oh my god, you are! You drama queen! Always with the theatrics... Calm down, you big baby. Really, I'll be alright." The smirk faded from Peter's face as he realized the extent of the distress bending the merc's usually lighthearted mood. He tilted his head to the side, smiling gently as he tried to reassure his friend in a coaxing tone. "Come on. Don't worry so much. It may not be anywhere near as impressive as yours, but I do have accelerated healing. I'll be a picture of perfect health in a few days. Besides, I've pulled through injuries much worse than this."
He trailed off, waiting for Wade to react. Finally, the merc sighed, shaking his head.
"Idiot." The older man moved to stand up, and Peter could sense his foul mood had finally lifted. "Fine, but I'm taking care of you until you're better." The kid tried in vain to protest, but Wade would have none of it, stooping to lift him in one smooth motion and heading for the bathroom. "To start, we're going to get you patched up, and in a proper bed!"
Peter might have thought he wasn't ready to see Wade again, but he couldn't have been happier when the man showed up. He didn't even care about the kiss or whatever complicated feelings he had at the moment. He just wanted to be near him. When he was laying on his floor, fading in and out on consciousness as the sun slowly sank and the shadows filled the room around him, his only concern was getting to the merc's apartment. He knew he was late, but just couldn't seem to gather the strength to get up (though he had been victorious in the end, Green Goblin had worked him over good). Considering the circumstances of the previous week, Peter was afraid of what might happen to his friendship with Wade if the older man thought he stood him up. He knew the merc could be quite volatile and strangely sensitive, so he was worried what his absence might cause. When he opened his eyes and saw the merc sitting there next to him, he could have cried from happiness.
That said, it certainly didn't make things less awkward when Wade started undressing him. Peter understood that he needed to get cleaned off and bandaged up, and he knew that he couldn't do it himself in his current state. He had a few sizable gashes over his torso that made it too painful to lift his arms up enough to undress or bathe himself. Therefore, he understood, and even appreciated that Wade needed to help him, so he bit his lip and did his best to restrain his embarrassment, trying instead to focus on talking to the merc.
Wade listened to him recount the details of his fight with Green Goblin and how he ended up in such a state, restraining the repeated urge to interject while gingerly removing his suit. His eyes flitted over the kid's slim, battered frame as he removed his underwear, noting the multitude of wounds with concern. He wrapped a towel around Petey and guided him to sit on the toilet while he fiddled with the faucet in the shower, filling the tub with steaming water. After helping Peter stand back up and setting the towel aside, Wade picked him up and slowly lowered him into the water. Peter hissed in pain, but said nothing, gritting his teeth as the hot water lapped against his cuts. Once the stinging subsided, the warmth began to radiate through his body, soothing his aching muscles.
"I know you're modest, so I'll let you do your thing. Just let me know if you need me to help." Peter nodded, accepting a washcloth and soap from the merc, watching as the older man moved to sit on the toilet, facing away. Peter began scrubbing the blood from his limbs the best he could, wincing as every motion sent sharp knives of pain shooting through his body, striking up conversation to distract himself from it.
"So what made you decide to come over? "
"What do you mean? You didn't show up, so I was worried. I thought something must have happened."
"I just... I thought you might misunderstand... After last week, I was afraid you'd think I was avoiding you." It was the first time either of them had mentioned the event, and Peter felt himself blushing at the memory, nervously awaiting the merc's reaction.
The older man turned around to glance at him, but quickly looked back towards the wall before speaking. "I know you better than that. You're a good person. Even if you hated me, I know you wouldn't stand me up. You're too honest, and nice..."
Peter was shocked. "I could never hate you! ... A-and thank you. I'm glad you think so highly of me." He pulled his knees to his chest with some effort, and rested his chin on them, smiling down at his reflection, feeling strongly affected by the merc's compliment.
There was a pause followed by a chuckle from the older man. "I'm happy to hear it." Beneath his mask, Wade was grinning like a fool. I told you! I told you! He doesn't hate me! Had he not felt the need to stay to take care of Peter, Wade would have been dancing through the streets. "Anyways, about last week... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to harass you so much, and I didn't mean to, you know, attack you like that. I just got a little excited..." Wade rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed to directly address his actions. It wasn't quite the elaborate, passionate apology he'd been intending, but at least things seemed to be alright between them again.
Peter was thankful that the merc's back was turned, feeling all of his blood rushing up to color his face. At the same time, he felt relieved. Their friendship wasn't ruined. Even though he felt the slightest bit dejected, a part of him still hopelessly hoping that Wade would actually have feelings for him, he was just happy to have dismissed the elephant in the room.
"It's ok. I'm sorry too. I got irritated, and lost my temper... And you're not an insufferable ass. I didn't mean that."
"No, I know I am."
Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, sometimes, I suppose. Also, I might need some help now. I can't really properly reach anything above my waist, which is where most of the cuts are..."
Wade moved to sit on the edge of the tub, glad he'd not bothered to change into his suit before coming over. He slipped off his shoes and socks, and rolled up his pant legs, submerging his feet in the water behind the kid, coaxing him to lean back to rest against his legs. Taking the soapy cloth from Peter, he got to work carefully scrubbing around the wounds, repositioning him now and then to reach his sides and back. Finally done washing off the last traces of blood, Wade used the detachable shower head to wet the Peter's hair. He squeezed out a dollop of shampoo into his hands, rubbed his palms together, and worked his fingers through the kid's tangled brown locks.
Peter sat in silence as the merc continued on with his usual chatter, mulling over the recent string of events. He was well aware by then that there was no possible way for him to bury or ignore his feelings, hoping they would gradually shift back to friendship. He was too far gone, and Wade was just too damn amazing. The merc's unrelenting willingness to help and spoil him wouldn't allow him the reprieve necessary for his crush to fade. His feelings might be one-sided, but they weren't going anywhere anytime soon. To continue trying to deny them was just going to drive him crazy. So, Peter resolved that while he wouldn't make any moves on the older man, he was no longer going to force distance, or feign dispassion. He liked Wade, and wasn't going to feel guilty about it.
Finally letting all of his meticulously constructed barriers slip away, Peter leaned his head back to look at the merc's upside-down masked face, and smiled.
"Thanks for taking care of me."
There had been a change in Petey over the course of the last hour, and Wade wasn't quite sure what could have caused it. There was something different, something new in the kid's face and mannerisms that made him uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable in a bad way, no. Uncomfortable in the way that it made him feel... odd?
He had been giving Petey a lecture on the proper pruning and wiring techniques for bonsais, dependent upon the species, age, and artistic vision for the tree, when the kid interrupted, randomly thanking him. That was all well and good, but what was off was the way he looked at him. Nobody had ever looked at him with that kind of expression before. It was peculiar.
The smile the kid gave his was so... soft and sweet, the merc was actually paralyzed for a moment. His heart was suddenly racing, and his face flushed with warmth. He felt his fingers tremble slightly as he moved to continue scrubbing the blood out of Spidey's hair, silenced by an odd tightness in his throat, such that he could only nod in response. That same barely perceptible jolt he'd felt when he'd been laying in bed next to the kid a couple of weeks ago ricocheted through his body, though significantly more pronounced this time.
When he had finished washing Petey's hair, rinsed him off, and helped him out of the tub, his chest was still strangely tight. He had actually momentarily worried that he might have been having a heart attack (all of those chimichangas finally catching up to him), but he brushed it off. It's not like it'd kill him. He'd retrieved a clean towel to dry the kid off, but when he turned around, he was stricken off-guard by the kid's demeanor.
He was standing there, naked and wet, his hands clasped in front of him in an attempt to cover himself up. Aside from the bright red gashes here and there, his skin was milky and smooth from head to foot. Water trickled in little gleaming rivulets over the contours of his body, and Wade's eyes followed one down his chest until it disappeared behind the cover of the kid's hands. When he looked back up, Peter's head was slightly lowered, and he was gazing off to the side, a tinge of red spreading across his cheeks. He glanced up from under dripping strands of hair with those big, honey-gold eyes, and his lips pulled in a half-smile as he patiently waited for Wade to bring the towel he was gripping abnormally tightly. The kid cocked his head to the side questioningly. Wade snapped to attention, feeling like he'd been caught doing something naughty.
"J-just surveying the damage! I hope you have a lot of gauze stored up somewhere..."
"Yeah, actually. I have a whole first aid kit under the sink." Stop doing that weird smile, darn it! Why are you acting so strange!? Spidey usually looked pretty damn good, but for some reason he was looking positively obscene at the moment. Is he trying to seduce me? [Are you kidding? He's gravely injured. You're the one acting strange.] No I'm not! It's him. He's acting different. (Still, I seriously, seriously doubt that Spidey would ever try to seduce us.)
Wade swallowed and quickly crossed the room back to where Peter was standing, helping him to dry his hair and the upper half of his body, quickly turning around to busy himself with gather supplies from the cabinet below the sink while the kid dried the lower half. A significant amount of peroxide, antibiotic ointment, gauze, and surgical tape later, Peter was all patched up and somewhat resembling mummy. After holding Peter steady in front of the sink so he could brush his teeth, Wade picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, setting him on the edge of the bed while he rifled through his dresser for clothes. He managed to finagle the kid into a pair of boxers and a baggy button-up shirt, laughing to himself as he remembered when Spidey had picked him up from an alley, thinking that things had come full circle in their friendship.
Finally, the kid was tucked into bed. Wade felt unusually exhausted. He barely took care of himself from day-to-day, but he still felt inclined to go above and beyond to pamper his friend. He had headed for the door, intending to sleep on the couch, wanting to give the kid his space (still feeling guilty about his excessive intrusion into Peter's bubble over in the past few weeks). However, the kid had called out to him.
"Are you leaving?"
"No, I'm just going to sleep on the couch. Did you want me to stay in here with you?" He had asked half-jokingly, sure that the kid would quickly deny him.
"I... I lost a lot of blood, so I'm having a hard time staying warm, even with blankets..." He looked so small and pale in the bed that the merc couldn't help but comply. Alright, if I have to be gravely injured, I'm at least going to milk it a tiny bit. Peter tried to sound as pitiful as possible, stifling a smile when the merc took a step back from the door. Maybe I'm being a little bad, but it's not like I'm going to grope him. Just some perfectly innocent horizontal hugging...
"Oh... Yes, of course!" Feeling a little giddy, Wade turned off the overhead light and slipped under the sheets, not bothering to remove his shirt or pants. He wrapped Peter up in his arms. The kid nuzzled into his chest and quickly fell asleep, but the merc laid awake for a while despite his exhaustion. His mind hadn't quite finished unwinding from the day's events. He had been so exceedingly afraid when he found Peter laying on the floor, and so overwhelmingly happy when he was alright. That, combined with the fact that now Spidey was acting weird. [He's not acting weird. You are.] No I'm not! You saw that weird smile. He's never looked like that before! And he was all salacious. Not to mention, if he's normal, why was he sleeping on the floor? Something's off... (He said he didn't want to ruin the couch.) No! Something's off. [It doesn't matter. At least he's alive, and he doesn't hate us.] Wade figured there was no use arguing it. There was definitely something different about the kid, but maybe it was just because he was injured. True enough, I suppose. Wade tightened his grip around Peter's waist, snuggling closer with a sigh. Goodnight, Deadpool. (Goodnight, Wade.) [Goodnight.]