They chose a high-rise, eating subs and muffins in the evening.
The energy inside him had settled after some crime-fighting, but he felt incredibly hungry despite the fact that he had devoured a stack of pancakes for a very late breakfast, enough for a family of four.
Deadpool smirked as the four muffins and a dozen donuts were shared between them after the footlongs with chips. His bonded ate more than half.
"Please tell me that's normal," Spider-Man sighed.
"Knowing you? Yeah, it is."
He wadded up the wrapping and tossed it at the merc, who easily caught it.
"You don't regenerate and eat a week's worth of food within twenty-four hours," Spider-Man grumbled.
"Yeah, well, I can always go for tacos, which we sadly didn't get today. And why? Mexican is good for you, baby boy." He shrugged. "And no, I don't have the cravings you have after pulling a fast one on the Lady."
The food was gone and Spider-Man stuffed everything into the bag to drop it into the trash later on.
"At least it won't stick," Deadpool added cheekily. "You metabolize like a freaking reactor. There's nothing on you." He poked him in the ribs.
"I'm not thin," came the grumble.
"Nope. Lean, mean Spidey-machine. Sexiest man alive."
"Enough with the compliments. You'll get laid."
"Ohhhh, it's not just for the getting laid part. You are the sexiest man alive, Spideybabe. For this merc anyway."
He leaned a little more against Spider-Man, who easily adjusted to the weight as he scanned the city scape. It was already perceptibly colder, the weather heading for late autumn chills and a hint of rain to come. "So, Mr. Compliments. Want to hit a theater? Watch a movie?"
"Eat nachos and popcorn?"
He grimaced. "No?"
"Liar," Deadpool sang. "So? Late night noir movie? Some Hitchcock? Documentary? Porn?"
"Let's see what we can find."
SD
They ended up in a tiny theater, crammed between high buildings, surrounded by shops and store fronts. Both had dressed in their civvies and Wade had his hood up, the basecap pulled low.
Peter got a tub of popcorn.
Wade carried the sodas and a family sized nacho serving.
SD
With only them in the theater, it felt like a private showing of an ancient movie that was still black-and-white. No one paid much attention to the couple in the far back corner, making out like lovesick teenagers.
Peter had never been one for public sex, but when Wade was between his legs and sucked him off, he couldn't care less. He had to bite down hard and clench his teeth not to make any noise, especially when he came.
Wade looked immensely pleased.
"Fucker," Peter whispered.
"At your service, baby boy. And it's been one of my fantasies. Well, the fantasy goes way past this, but hey…"
Movie forgotten, Peter blinked in the semi-dark.
"How far?" he heard himself ask roughly.
Wade looked suddenly caught. "Uhm… way past your comfort zone? Kinda, with more people?"
He almost face-palmed.
"And it was before we bonded!" the merc quickly added, words hurried. "I was always imagining that ass naked, and the porn collection had some pretty interesting stuff…"
Peter groaned. "Okay, got it. And yes, outside any kind of comfort zone."
"Not gonna share you," Wade promised, voice intense. "Fantasy or not. No one but me touches you."
"Speaking of which…" Peter slowly stroked his semi-hard dick. "We've got another hour before this movie lets out. I think I can squeeze you in…"
Wade's mouth hung open and he was gaping like a beached fish. "Petey!" he whispered breathlessly. "Did you just… really? Here?!"
"We're in the back corner, no one but us."
"Someone pinch me," the other man groaned desperately. "Or not. Please not. It's my wet dream come true!"
"Don't really want to know how many you still have," he replied with a light laugh.
SD
Since the seats were old and narrow, they ended up with Wade fucking him against the wall, short staccato bursts that had Peter see stars and come faster than he would have expected after the first blow. Wade relentlessly plowed into him, harsh breaths against his ear, arms around his middle and holding him tightly.
"You are so adorable," he murmured breathlessly, coming down from his high, still seated deep inside.
"And you're a menace," Peter replied, feeling muscles shiver with exhaustion.
"We should do this more often."
"No."
"Special occasions then?"
"Very special ones."
It got him a light bite against the neck and Wade moved his hips a little. His cock was still half hard.
"You can't be serious."
"Energizer bunny, baby. You know me."
"Movie will be out in twenty."
"Is that a challenge?"
"No!"
It got him a throaty laugh and Wade finally pulled out.
Peter knew he was a mess, and so was his bonded. They were hardly presentable, but at this time of night there was hardly anyone looking too closely. Both hurried out of the theater, back to where they had hidden their stuff, and they took the rooftop route home.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
Nick Fury should have expected their visitor…
…uninvited guest…
…intruder.
The asshole with an attitude problem in the red and black suit.
Take a pick.
He would go for 'bat-shit crazy moron', but that was only him. Fury was also under no illusion that Deadpool was truly as brain-damaged, unplugged and randomly insane as he let others think. There was a keen intelligence behind the façade. You didn't get to be a renowned mercenary with an almost-perfect kill-score with only one functioning brain cell and a bunch of goo for a brain.
No, Fury had never underestimated the man, but he couldn't stand him either.
Not that they needed to be friends.
Deadpool had made it onto the helicarrier by hitching a ride. Actually, he had kidnapped a pilot and asked him quite nicely to land on the floating fortress. There had been a little gun-waving involved, but the pilot didn't even have a scratch on him. He was more annoyed that he hadn't been aware of his stowaway until it was too late.
Now the mercenary was here.
To get to Martin Tigh, the young man who had bought an alien weapon and gone on a rampage. Tigh was currently in a high security ward, one that had held Asgardian gods and would hold the Hulk if push came to shove. They had managed to get the alien armor off, though it had nearly killed him.
The thing seemed to be alive to a degree, binding to the host whom it had controlled, and connecting to the human nervous system.
Whether Tigh would ever be himself again or had suffered irreparable brain damage had yet to be determined. So far he was unresponsive, staring at nothing, drooling or murmuring something that hadn't been recognized as any kind of known language.
Deadpool stood outside the prison cell that resembled a gigantic fish tank, a place that gave the inmate no room to hide from cameras and other prying eyes. Even the sanitary facilities were in plain view.
Not that Tigh was actively trying to hide; or move at all.
"He was a victim," Fury said, voice echoing in the otherwise empty room.
Deadpool didn't react, the white-masked eyes on the man who had left a path of pain and destruction in New York. His hands hung loosely at his side.
"The alien artefact connected to his brain and took over his body and mind."
Deadpool's stance didn't shift, he didn't show any kind of awareness that he wasn't alone with the prisoner. His whole attention was focused on Martin Tigh.
In a dangerous, alarm bells wailing loudly kind of way.
Fury knew all there was to know about the chimera and the man bonded to the artificially created preternatural mutation. The moment Wade Wilson had appeared on the scene, SHIELD had become aware of the mercenary, the hellhound, who had an incredibly high success rate and who rarely ever missed a target.
When Wilson had suddenly disappeared, only to reappear as Deadpool, Fury had taken even more notice, a much closer one, and the intel on the former hellhound-now-chimera had been terrifying. He was a powerful, extremely lethal force and absolutely unpredictable new player.
Deadpool was weapon, someone to hire when SHIELD didn't want to stick their own noses in too deeply or kick too hard at something that might blow up in their faces. That's what the hired help was for.
So they had made use of his talents on dark missions, operations that would never be linked to them, and he was hellishly good and absolutely impossible to work with in a team.
SHIELD would have wanted him as an operative if he could a) follow orders and b) accept a handler. Since neither was an option, Deadpool was someone to be handled with care when applied to a situation.
Even Coulson had nearly lost his cool when working with him, which was just tell-tale. The man was hard to rattle on a bad day, but Deadpool had managed the impossible.
Fury saw the merc as a nuisance and an asset in one, like most, well all, of the Avengers, but where the Avengers could get their shit together, Deadpool had always ever looked out for himself.
Until Spider-Man had changed that, but not in a way that had the Director of SHIELD consider them as a team to recruit.
"Killing him would be killing the host," Fury spoke up.
No reply.
There were agents surrounding the room, weapons trained on the intruder, but Fury doubted they could really stop him. Nothing could kill him and simple bullets couldn't stop him.
"Deadpool. Stand down."
"He killed my bonded mate," the preternatural said, voice flat and absolutely inflectionless.
"Spider-Man healed."
"He killed him."
Fury's eye narrowed. "Killing the host won't undo it."
Deadpool finally turned away from watching Tigh, his gaze fixing on the head of SHIELD. Fury had met a lot of dangerous men in the past, alien and human, and he knew he was facing such a danger. There was nothing crazy about Deadpool right now.
This was the focused intensity of the chimera and Fury could feel the thing that no one could define, the energy inside the immortal mercenary that rose and seemed to spread invisible wings. It hovered around him, the apex predator of unknown and never before registered power.
A dark, dark creature of violent nature. Ferocious, untamed, and now without chains.
The bond had let it evolve, had set it free, with no chains and no barriers to hold it back should Deadpool decide to let go, to take what he wanted.
"Tigh has been punished enough already," Fury said calmly. "As for the parasitic artefact, we're studying it."
"To what end?" was the cold question. "To use its power? To develop newer, better weapons?"
Fury just met the masked gaze, keeping a neutral expression. Inside, his very human inside, he wanted to draw a gun and shoot the bastard until he dropped dead. Or to run. Very fast, very far.
Deadpool snorted. "Of course."
He turned his head, looking at Tigh again. The man hadn't moved, was just staring straight ahead, drool dribbling off his chin.
Brain damage.
The merc finally walked away, past Fury, ignoring the gun sights following him.
"Cute," he commented as he passed one of the men. "You keep on training that, kid."
Fury twitched a little smile as he followed, gesturing at the men to stand down.
Deadpool scanned the corridor as he walked through it, no soul in sight, and Fury knew that he was taking in every little detail, like pinging for a threat, for the alien weapon. It wasn't on the helicarrier anymore. The moment they had removed the last part from the unlucky, the boxed-up artefact had been flown to an off-site lab at an undisclosed location. If Deadpool tried to find it, he would have to dig deep.
Fury suspected the man would be able to dig as deep as he had to, maybe even get some details, and if he was truly going after the artefact, he might one day find it.
If Spider-Man had truly died for good, if the suspicions as to what the bond enabled the non-preternatural side of the mated pair to do had been contradicted, nothing would have stopped Deadpool.
Martin Tigh would already be a dead man.
And Deadpool would be hunting for the artefact.
SHIELD had an emergency response plan for that situation, though Fury doubted they would be able to put down Deadpool for good. Restraining him, yes. Maybe take him down in a way that would give them a chance to lock him up, even if it meant blowing him up.
But he wouldn't die.
And the outlook on what could happen if the chimera lost its anchor, if it truly came out and stayed out, the human shell no longer its last barrier to the world, were frightening.
Fury pushed those thoughts away as he followed the mercenary to the flight deck where the kidnapped pilot was next to his flight. Jonasson had been in a rather good mood and volunteered to be the taxi driver back down to wherever Deadpool wanted to go.
"Your partner is alive, Wilson. Think of that," Fury advised.
It got him that flat look, no animation in the masked features, and the whites seemed to glow.
"Fuck off," was the only reply he got, then Deadpool sauntered over to his ride.
He clapped the pilot he had forced to get him up to the helicarrier on the shoulder, leaning over to say something that had Jonasson twitch a grin.
Fury watched the quinjet take off, daring to sigh a breath of relief.
"Do you think he will go after the artefact?"
He turned to Maria Hill. The woman had been absolutely silent in approaching him.
"Not today."
"But he will."
"It killed his bonded mate."
She inclined her head. Like Fury, Maria was human, not a super- or preternatural trace in her genes. SHIELD had always worked with preters and supers, but not every agent was one.
"Want us to tail him for a while?"
"Not that it would really work," Fury remarked with a humorless smirk. "He has shaken any tail we put on him in the past, more so lately ever since he started to get more in tune with his preternatural side. The chimera is a terrifying, highly dangerous creature, a night terror you wouldn't want after you. I'm quite aware that we wouldn't be able to stop him from doing what he came here to do today. It was his decision to leave, not my words."
Hill looked slightly pensive, but she didn't argue. She followed Fury back inside and to the bridge.
SD
Jonasson reported he had deposited Deadpool back on the ground, on a roof of a New York skyscraper, and the merc had disappeared right away.
Fury just told him to get back.
tbc...