"How did the Avengers Peace Meeting go?" Deadpool asked, lounging in an old deck chair on the roof of their choice this evening, showing lean lines and muscle that had Peter want to jump him.
The costume highlighted a lot of him. All the good places, as Deadpool liked to point out. His muscles, his ass, his butt and his behind. He had to smile at that. Yes, Wade's ass was a highlight and highlighted. With the body armor over the spandex, and the various weapons, Deadpool looked both dangerous and desirable to Spider-Man. Sexy. Very, very sexy.
Damn. It was either hormones, a side-effect of the bond, his long dry spell, or just plain desire stemming from nothing more than Peer being in love with this man.
He dropped lithely down and tossed the take-out bag of Mexican food at him, biting back on those desires. Deadpool wouldn't bat an eye at public sex. Well, semi-public, on a roof, where a media copter or an innocent neighbor might catch them going at it. He would probably enjoy himself a lot.
Peter… not so much. He didn't mind public displays of affection, but that's where he drew a very firm line.
"Ooohhh! Azteca! You splurged!" Deadpool cried excitedly as he sat up.
Yes, Peter had splurged, even if it hurt his weekly allowance. Well, the allowance he had set for himself as he hunted for work.
"Why am I not surprised that you know about the not so accidental meeting?" he asked conversationally.
"Got eyes and ears everywhere. And eww, that sounds nasty, right? So, am I pardoned after defiling the little spider boy with the heart of a fluffy unicorn? Do I still get to play in their sandbox? Or are they convinced you're no longer all kitties and rainbows after I had my dick in you? Repeatedly. In all kinds of sexy positions."
Peter rolled his eyes under the mask. "Defiling?" he echoed.
Deadpool gleefully hummed as he dug around the bag and pulled out his tacos. "Lots of it," he mumbled around the food.
"Why do you think they are interested in what we do outside hunting perps?"
"Perps and pervs," the other man chuckled. "Which I don't get to kill, but hey. Compromises, right? I can do compromises. Looked up the word and finally got an explanation. Cool thing, compromises. I really should google shit more often. Or wiki. Or whatever comes up next. Is Bing a thing?"
Peter sighed and pushed Deadpool's legs off the deck chair to claim a spot. "Hawkeye thinks I'm crazy. I'm sure they all do. I suppose they were worried to a degree. It's like they're scoping out a new threat."
Deadpool shrugged carelessly. "Better good intel than ending up dead."
"Wise words. But we're not a threat for them. Or are we?"
It got Peter a smirk. "What do you think, Spideybabe?"
"I think you got sauce on your chin."
Deadpool wiped it away. "And aside from that, yep, we are. I know I'm near the top. Persona non grata wherever I go. I think there isn't an Avenger or X-Man out there who isn't offended by my mere existence." Another shrug. "I'm up there with the evil big shots. I'm really honored. Not sure I could make first place. I mean, I'm not trying to take over the world. We could try, though. You up for some world domination, Spidey?"
Peter shook his head with a chuckle. "No world domination."
He didn't need to ask why Deadpool thought of himself like that when it came to the super-heroes in town and around. He also knew how dangerous his partner was, how powerful. Immortality was something not even Thor could bring into a battle, and the Asgardian was hard to bring down. But he could die and stay dead.
The chimera would always come back.
Yes, maybe they were a threat. The Avengers were apprehensive of what Deadpool was, but they had used his services in the past. They had actively hired him to take down or even kill someone. Black, black ops. No one would confirm it. No one would even mention an association with the merc.
But Deadpool had changed. He wasn't killing just for kicks. He would disable, even if it meant permanent disabilities. Killing was reserved for extreme situations.
He made an effort to follow Peter's wishes. Never commands. Peter would never order him to do anything; he wanted this to be an equal partnership and had wanted it from the beginning.
"I don't care," Spider-Man said after a while, Deadpool fully plastered to his side, both men done with their food. "I don't care what they think. We don't depend on their good will."
"If they want me out of this fair city, they'll find a way. A permanent way."
Peter felt tension creep into his frame. "I'm not going to just turn tail and leave! I live here, too! This is my city!"
Wade hummed softly. "I love it when you become so forceful, baby boy."
"I'm serious, Deadpool!"
"Serious as a heart attack. Which, for me, nothing at all. But I am. Very serious." And he did sound serious all of a sudden, sitting up straighter. "I'm not going without a fight either, but I doubt they would let it come to that. They're scoping out the potential new threat. Hence all the fuss. They don't trust me not to abuse you, Spidey."
"Bullshit," Peter grated.
Another hum. "Yeah. But they love their bullshit. Never cared, never will."
Neither did Peter. He had long since decided not to become an Avenger. Maybe an occasional assist here or there, but he wouldn't give up his identity or his life, which included Deadpool, because of them.
Ever.
"They probably won't ever give you another recruitment speech."
Peter snorted. "Not interested."
"What is it with you and them anyway? Why do they want you to join?"
"No clue. Fresh blood? Maybe I left an impression. I mean, okay, there was a time I wanted to be an Avenger, but…" He shrugged. "Not anymore."
Deadpool raised an eyebrow, the mask as expressive as ever. "You applied?"
"Kinda. I thought it would be cool."
"As a cucumber," Wade quipped. "You'd be a great Avenger. The best!"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm not really going down that path any more. I like flying solo."
Wade raised a hand. "Uhm…"
Peter grinned. "Solo for two, okay?"
"Very. I'll always be okay with flying solo with you, Spideybabe." Deadpool cocked his head. "Hey, that's an idea!"
"What? Joining the Avengers?"
"No! No, no, not that. That's boring. But!" He held up a finger.
Spider-Man looked at him, patient, waiting.
"Wait for it…." the merc sing-songed. "You are the child of Captain Underpants and the Tin Can!"
"What?!"
"It all makes sense! Maybe you were adopted! I mean, mpreg is so fanfic and alternate universes today."
"Deadpool."
"They want you to take over the family business one day."
"Deadpool," he repeated with a sigh.
"Yes, dear?"
"I'm not related to any of them." He held up a hand to stave off another splurge. "And I'm also not adopted. My parents died when I was young and I was raised by my aunt and uncle. But you know that, Wade."
It got him a shrug. "Files can be faked."
"This isn't faked."
They settled into a comfortable silence, Deadpool's head resting on Spider-Man's shoulder, the chimera focused on its mate and a calm, even presence along the bond.
"The X-Men once came knocking down my door," the merc broke the silence, sounding almost casual "Motherfuckers wouldn't take no for an answer. I got all those warnings. Don't abuse you powers, Deadpool. Be a good boy, Deadpool. Your gift can help people, Deadpool," he quoted, voice a little higher. "I was helping! I unalived the bad guys and the not so good guys and those I got paid for. But noooo… They threw the rule book at me."
Spider-Man stared at him. "The X-Men?"
Deadpool sat up straight. "The very same. Rude bunch. Had to cut off my hand to get away from them that one time and back to business." He waved his right hand. "Took a night to grow it back. Bitch. They have no understanding of how the world works for us hardworking blue collars."
Peter chuckled, ignoring the part about the self-mutilation. "Blue collar?"
Deadpool dropped his head back on the younger man's shoulder. "Hard working. I earned every dime in my bank account. Or accounts. Whatever."
He sounded content and was a welcome, warm weight.
"They finally pissed off. Fuckers. Not interested in all their goody two-shoes nonsense. I think they got it now."
"Huh."
"You know what they called me? Reckless! Me!"
"Who woulda thought."
"Riiiight, right? Oh, forgot the shameful. I shamefully use my recklessness. Recklessly use my shame? Hm, something with shame and recklessness anyway. No idea. Dictionary anyone? Do I need to wiki that?"
"Why, you'd never be reckless," Peter said dryly.
"Yep." Deadpool popped the 'p' and hummed a little to himself. "Mr. Silver Balls McTightyPants went on about abusing my powers, at nau - se - um! He sounded extremely righteous. My old pal Wolverine hangs out with Professor X, but he's got reason to." There was a smirk audible in his voice. "A very fuckable reason, if you get my drift. Not sure what they threw into his mix, but it's horny like hell when it comes to his bub. I'd just get in the way. He's a little too territorial when it comes to his piece of ass."
Peter snorted. Deadpool was territorial. Very much. As well as protective and he had possessive streaks that embarrassed him most of them time. He was also hanging around a goody two-shoes, he mused. He had told Spider-Man often enough.
"Hey!" Wade sat up straight. "Maybe I'm someone's secret love child! Maybe that's why Baldy wanted me in his fan club! Granted, his recruiters were a bit… unprofessional, but that's water under the big, fat bridge!"
"You're not a secret love child," Peter sighed.
"How can you tell?"
He pushed their shoulders together, jostling Deadpool into almost sliding off the deck chair.
"You're definitely not. Just leave it at that."
Deadpool snuggled up close again, looping an arm around Spider-Man's waist. Peter felt the warmth inside him, expanding through his soul, entwining him with Wade, forming a bond that was unlike any ever seen before. The chimera was a terrifying thing, artificial in its origin, completely new and not understood, but around Peter it wasn't.
It was life and warmth, determination and power. It was Wade's emotions, all his pain and fear, his hopes and his longing. It was a primal instinct, from before time, and it was terrifying in its nature.
Peter loved it… him.
They were good together. Absolutely perfect.
No doubts. No second guesses.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
With winter coming in hard and heavy, Peter cursed his apartment, the shoddy heating, and curled into his bed, a mountain of blankets over him.
Outside the wind rattled against the panes and the rain was coming down. A storm warning had been issued for the East Coast Area and there might be worse on the way.
Anyone with any sense was at home.
Like Peter.
Who was still cursing his life and his landlord.
It was a sad, sad fact of that life that he would need to leave and grocery shop sometime today, because if the storm really hit them like the forecast predicted, everything would be shut down. It would mean braving the elements and hoping for warmth in the subway and the shop, but it also meant coming home cold and wet in the end.
SD
By next morning the updates were looking even worse. It was a low-pressure storm system that was coming in from Canada and had by now developed into a blizzard, threatening tons of snow.
SD
Peter made it to the grocery store throughout a brief relief in freezing rain that was by now more like snow, though the drizzle never stopped. The winds were nasty and there was a foreboding wall of clouds boiling up.
The news warned of two to three feet of snow. 'Prepare for something worse than what we have seen before' could be heard every time. Vehicles were ordered off the streets by eleven pm tonight and with the exception of emergency and government vehicles, anyone driving in New York City after 11 pm would be fined.
The store was filled with people shopping in bulk, stocking up for a possible shut-down, and Peter grabbed what he could and, more importantly, what he could afford.
When he was done, the downpour was back, with the added bonus of snow.
His personal luck.
Great. Just great.
A cab stopped in front of him and the window on the passenger side rolled down. Deadpool's red and black mask was looking at him, a wide smile clearly visible.
"Hey there, Petey-pie. Need a lift?"
Peter was too worn out, cold and drenched to argue. He wanted to. Wanted to point out that he was perfectly capable of getting himself home and he didn't need a ride.
But he didn't.
He just slid into the back seat and dumped his groceries next to him.
The cab pulled away and Peter sank back into the cheap leather seats. "Did you stalk me again?"
"Nope."
"You were waiting for me?"
"Nope."
Deadpool sounded downright cheerful.
Peter gave up with a long-suffering and just let the warm air blasting into the fond dry him a little. His eyes roamed around the used looking but well-maintained cab, then fell on the sticker on the dash. A Deadpool logo sticker.
Huh.
When the cab stopped, he frowned. "This isn't my place…"
"As observant as ever. Your mouse trap is a cold, dreary place," Deadpool stated. He pushed a wad of money at the driver. "Keep the small change, Dopinder. Great service as always. Say hello to that lovely girl of yours. Now go home before you get fined."
The man responded with a bright smile. "Thank you, Mr. Pool. Always a pleasure to drive for you."
"Aw, you're just saying that."
Deadpool slipped out of the cab, in full battle gear, which had Peter wonder how comfortable two katanas and two guns were when sitting in a small cab. He hurried over to the building and opened the door with a flourish. Peter, groceries clutched in his hands, sighed and decided to just go along with it.
He wanted to be dry. And warm. He wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep.
Well, the place wasn't a five star hotel, but it was dry and warm, just this side of messy, with Christmas lights tacked to one wall, another wall smothered in post-its and newspaper clippings, colorful string and tacks, and a work bench containing gear Peter really didn't want to look too closely at. Some of that stuff looked suspiciously like explosives.
There was a rather scraggly, fake Christmas tree in one corner. It was pink.
Peter had to remind himself that Christmas was in about a month. Geez. Time really flew by.
He had never been to Deadpool's place, had never really thought about why, and now it felt like a big reveal. A warm reveal, with working heat.
He already loved it.
"Welcome to my humble abode. Now strip."
"Huh?"
"Strip," Deadpool ordered, stalking past him with a purposeful stride. "You're dripping."
He grabbed some things and pushed the wad of clothing at Peter, simultaneously taking the groceries.
"Don't mind doing it here. I like to watch."
So Peter did just that, amused by the slack-jawed expression on Deadpool's face for following his suggestions. There was a clatter as weapons were hastily shed and Peter languidly shrugged into the Deadpool sweater and the black sweater pants.
Wade pulled the mask off, looking hungry and longing. "Fuck, baby boy…" he breathed.
"I think that was your intention when you abducted me here?" Peter teased.
Gloves were removed. "Uh, yes, no, maybe, kinda? All of the above for one hundred, Alex? I mean, your heating's out, like it always is when you need it, and you looked like something the mangy cat with an attitude problem dragged in. Also, choice of food? Atrocious. You wouldn't feed a dog with that crap. I had to come to the rescue. You're my…"
Wade stopped all of a sudden, warring emotions flickering over his face. He was visibly fighting down a wave of emotions he wasn't used to. He had closed the distance, looking completely serious, the intensity radiating off him breathtaking.
Protect. Guard. Keep Peter safe.
Peter didn't really want to know how the chimera had known about his heating, though it was a good shot in the dark at any given day, and he also didn't want to know about the cab.
"Partner?" Peter now probed. "Anchor?"
"Mate," he whispered roughly. "Counterpart. My so much better than me half. Also, I missed you," Wade added with a small smile that bordered to impish.
He had been out of the city for a week, taking a job – "No killing involved, really, scout's honor on my nana's grave!" – so Peter understood about missing him. He had missed his partner, too. Taking the job that had apparently involved some kind of bodyguard duty had been Deadpool's way of dealing with events as of late. He needed space and he needed to work.
Peter had given him space.
The kiss was slow, deep, growing in depth and intensity, and Wade pushed his hands under the Deadpool sweater, seeking naked skin. Peter was more than happy to let him lead, maneuver him toward the bed, then used his greater strength to topple them to end up on top.
Wade smirked, eyes dark and pupils blown.
Then he settled over the athletic form, still in full leathers, and Peter felt something inside of him react with a vengeance.
tbc...