Deadpool climbed over the banister of the large terrace and gracefully dropped down. Peter shook his head in fond exasperation when his partner came in through the open glass doors.
"We have a perfectly good elevator. Or stair case."
"I like the exercise. Keeps this breathtaking, stunning body in its mouthwatering shape." He spread his arms and did a perfect pirouette on one foot.
Peter chuckled with amusement.
"Hey, you should know, Spideybabe. You do all that wall crawling and look how you turned out. Heart-stirringly impressive."
"Did you get shot in the head again?" he asked with a sigh.
"Nope! Caught up to some old bud of mine in the Public Library. You might hear about it on the news."
Peter groaned.
"Hey, I didn't start it," Deadpool immediately defended himself. "Scout's honor." He had a hand on his heart. "I was minding my own profitable business, stalking a target, non-lethal, as promised. He just dropped in and made things interesting."
"How interesting?" Peter just wanted to know, trying not to roll his eyes.
His life!
"Uh…" Deadpool scratched his head. "The romance section might need a few new donations. And the self-help one. He also bled all over the newspapers."
Peter sighed deeply. Really. His life.
He scanned over the red suit that was really quite good at hiding possible bleeds, but even his practiced eye found nothing.
"He's more one for strangling," Deadpool said unhelpfully, interpreting his look correctly.
"Well, if that's all…"
"Yep. Like I said, nothing bad. I took care of him. He'll enjoy the hospitality of the prison health system for a while."
Wade removed the mask and started to strip off the weapons. Peter went back to reading over his project notes, adding or erasing some things here or there. He had a deadline to meet and a lab to visit in two days.
"I also ran into my old pal Wolverine today. Before the Library Incident."
"Tea and cookies?" he teased.
"Nah. He was there on business and had no time for frilly fun and games. Too bad. Was looking forward to it." Deadpool's voice was a little off. "Said the professor was meeting someone."
Peter shrugged. "Me, for example."
The silver flared in the dark eyes and the chimera bared long fangs, shadowy wings rising threateningly in the center of the void. Peter tugged gently at the bond and it huffed.
"Professor Xavier wasn't really there. It was a projection. Not a telepathic one either, which I found weird. Colossus was there. He doesn't say hello."
"Yeah, well… we kinda don't like each other."
"Figured as much."
The chimera stalked closer. "What did Wheels want from you?" he demanded.
"Nothing I haven't heard a million times before."
"Deadpool bad. Deadpool dangerous," the man in question mimicked. "Deadpool wrong. Deadpool shut be put down and locked up."
"Well, he was more concerned about the long term effects of the anchor bond."
Wade growled. It came from deep inside and Peter thought he heard it across the anchor line, too. It was primal and dark, a warning.
"I told them I'm quite aware of those effects."
The silvery eyes blinked and grew less razor-sharp.
"Are you?" came the soft query. The chimera sounded suddenly doubtful, a little unsure.
"Very much."
"Peter…."
"I know what this means, Wade. All of it. You got me. For life. Your life." He shot his partner a reassuring smile. "Oh, and they won't try to recruit you anymore."
Wade huffed, hands still balled into fists, the leather creaking dangerously.
Peter watched him, laptop still on his lap, keeping his whole posture relaxed. He did feel calm and relaxed; it wasn't just for show. He just curled himself more tightly around the anchor and reached for the chimera's darkness, touching the void and caressing it.
Wade's eyes widened, the silver bright and intense.
"We're good, Wade," he said.
"Yeah."
"Whatever we run into."
Deadpool exhaled sharply.
"They can't break this."
The chimera snarled viciously at the words, at the very thought of losing its anchor. It was an echo Spider-Man felt inside his very core, something like a shockwave that consisted of darkness and the absence of sound.
Peter pushed the laptop aside and rose, closing the distance. He touched the other man, fingers curling around one leather-gloved wrist.
"We'll be fine," he promised. "Whatever happens."
"Wait till you pull your first Highlander, baby boy. Then we talk."
He started to hum 'Who wants to live forever' from Queen.
Peter gently squeezed his wrist. "You'll be there for my freak-out."
Deadpool's expression was serious now, not a grain of humor within. "I'll always be there. It's the others that are going to change."
"I'm quite aware of what being immortal means."
A gloved hand cupped his cheek, then slid along his neck. "You haven't lived it yet."
"Neither have you. You're not that old."
"Why are you so calm about this, Peter?"
"Because I don't feel any panic, idiot. I feel good. I want this with you."
Peter smiled, brushing their lips together, feeling Wade shiver a little. The emotions between them were intense. He felt the pull, the sharp claws, the nightmarish darkness roiling all around him, and he was safe within the grasp. It was a blanket, protective, dangerous to others, bristling. It was his security.
"We've got all the time to see all the universes, all the timelines, meet all those freaky alternate versions," Deadpool murmured. "Trust me, it'll be fun."
"I bet. Right now I want to enjoy this life, though."
"Time travel is neat. Especially when you also cross your streams and things start to really bend. Uh, wait, wrong movie. But maybe we can try crossing streams, too. I know you're insanely bendy."
"I'll take your word for it."
"Takes the edge off the whole immortality and forever thing," Wade added carefully, humor ebbing away a little, almost like testing the waters.
Peter started to undo the fastenings on the suit, familiar with all the little details. Wade's pupils widened and his lips suddenly curled into a smile.
"One-track mind. I like," he purred, everything else forgotten.
"I know," Peter murmured and slipped his hands underneath the spandex, feeling warm skin.
The scars were so wonderfully familiar, all of them. He knew their location, their shape, how smooth or rough they felt, even with his eyes closed. He could read them like Braille, loved to trace their winding paths, like 3-D tattoos that spoke of his partner's past.
Wade no longer flinched away, no longer looked ashamed, embarrassed or like he wanted to hide. He actually pushed into the caresses, his eyes sometimes filled with silent wonder that was soon swallowed by the hunger of the chimera rising to the surface.
Peter surged into another kiss, biting gently at the chapped lips, feeling teeth sharpen as he pushed deeper, as he demanded and slid into the bond. The chimera growled, sounding deeply pleased, a dark, shadowy thing that pulled at Peter's soul without ever leaving an injury, despite the inhumanly sharp claws.
"I like it, too," Peter murmured, wet lips against wet lips. "One track. No more thinking," he added, pulling at the clasps again.
He wanted to take another edge off for now. Everything else… later.
Deadpool was all for it.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
The light of the sun was slanting through the window, creating warm patterns on the brick walls. The windows were partially open, the sound of the city filtering through.
Somewhere in the distance sirens howled. It was a common sound in this city and nothing that got either man out of bed in a hurry.
Wade looked at the man stretched out beside him on their shared bed. Peter was still asleep, completely nude, and lying on his stomach. The blanket was riding low on Peter's narrow hips, revealing just enough to tease, but not enough to call it indecent yet.
Wade smiled devilishly.
He liked indecent.
A lot.
As did his mate.
Peter was no submissive. He was strong-willed, he knew what he wanted, he was demanding, he could take charge, and Wade had found himself giving in now and then.
It was fun. He enjoyed it, as did Peter.
It had been a night of tenderness, mixed with a passion that had left them both breathless and shaken.
Like a reaffirmation of life, he mused. Sometimes they needed that.
Leaning down, Wade nipped at his partner's skin, kissing the faintly visible marks he had left there last night. There was a little murmur from Peter and he turned, sleepy eyes blinking open, and a smile stretched his lips.
"Morning," he murmured.
"Good morning," Wade replied, caressing the smooth, warm back.
Months into their intimate relationship, years into their partnership, and he was always amazed how Peter didn't flinch away whenever he saw him naked. In all his horrifying glory. It was as if he didn't see the scars at all, as if he had another kind of sight, a second sight, maybe even a third. It was humbling and embarrassingly so.
"You awake long?" Peter wanted to know, smothering a yawn.
He looked delicious and warm and relaxed. So gorgeous. With the faint shadow of a stubble, hair all mussed.
"A teensie-weensie."
"What did you do all that time?" came the amused question.
"Watching you."
"Uh-huh. How interesting."
"Yes, it is." Wade looked into the clear eyes, saw the amusement and happiness reflected in them, and warmth curled through him.
Peter was filled with so much life, with such optimism and positive energy, it astounded others. He had gone through so many ups and downs, had lost people dear to him, had lost family and friends, even a love interest.
All of it had led this man here, to him, and maybe it had led Deadpool to Peter Parker, too.
He despised Fate, didn't trust her, the bitch. But maybe, by some strange luck and because she had been in a good mood, he had been granted what he had never known he needed.
"I love you," Wade whispered, surprising himself with the words.
Peter smiled. Happy, warm, completely open.
The chimera flourished under the gaze, spread its wings, flaring and presenting, proud and happy itself. It rose, displaying its might, all sharp edged lines and razor teeth. It twirled and danced, winding around Peter's soul.
A lover's caress, deadly for everyone else but Peter.
I need you, Wade thought. And you're mine. You belong to me alone.
He wouldn't give him up; for anything.
He had never had this. A home, a calmness in his mind that anchored his thoughts, that tamed the killer instinct, that didn't try to control and cage him.
Peter had only ever asked one thing of him: no killing.
And Deadpool didn't. Not unless the enemy shot first. Not unless they threatened to unalive Spidey, or Deadpool, though he could shake that off in a heartbeat.
No, Peter had never tried to change him. Deadpool had been the one who had wanted to change, to be better, to be a hero. He wouldn't demand he give up the mercenary work, though Wade had truly cut back on it.
Even if he did take a job, there was no judgment.
There was acceptance.
"Love you, too," Peter answered.
The younger man let his fingers play over the chimera's skin. It was soothing, a wonderful caress, and he felt himself relax even more. Wade nuzzled the soft skin at Peter's neck and his mate hummed in pleasure. Peter turned his head and their lips bumped into each other.
He finally drew back, grinning at the breathless look in the hazel eyes.
It still took them another fifteen minutes of heavy making out to finally leave the bed.
"Got an appointment," Peter murmured, looking flushed.
Wade didn't really care, but a tiny part reminded him that this was about a job and Peter took that part of his life very seriously.
His little spider pushed him off with ease, the curbed strength a bigger turn on than Wade really wanted to think about.
Fuck.
As it was, they did make it out of the bathroom in a rather decent amount of time, though Peter had proven to be a tease all the way around. It had reached a point where Wade had been hard pressed not to just take the invitation and simply take.
Still, he congratulated himself on his self-control.
Damn tease, he thought, quite aware that Peter had done it on purpose.
"Payback's a bitch," he called after his departing bonded.
Peter just laughed.
He flipped him off and walked into his weapons room, smart phone in hand.
"Mr. Pool," came Dopinder's friendly greeting. "What can I do for you today?"
"Got any rides lined up?"
"Not any more," was the cheerful reply.
Deadpool smirked. "Good man, Dopinder. We're going on a little trip."
"I'll pack lunch."
Deadpool hung up and looked at his gear.
Yes, he had an appointment himself. One where the other party didn't know he was coming.
A slow smile crept over Wade's face as he put on the suit, checking each pouch and pocket, each strap and clasp. He finally snapped the guns into place. The swords were next. He stocked up on ammo and smaller explosive charges, just to be on the safe side. The mask was the last to be pulled on.
Then he was out the door.
tbc...