Chapter Text
Somebody folded a note into a lopsided heart and taped it to Wade’s forehead while he was napping. At first, Wade thought he was dreaming, but the Scotch tape tugged at his skin, and when he unfolded the note, the handwriting was messy. Nervous. Sweet.
Unmistakably Peter's.
Meet me on my roof tonight after sunset, please? 🕷️❤️
OH MY GOOOD… Peter drew a little heart! That was a heart, right? Inside a heart-shaped note! OMG. OMG. That was like… four hearts. Peter might as well have said, ‘I love you, Wade Wilson.’ If only. And how the fuck did Peter even sneak into Wade’s place? Hot.
Wade arrived at Peter’s on fucking time (no way was he gonna be late for this). The sky was slipping into gold when he pushed open the rooftop door—and froze.
The whole place was twinkling. Strands of white lights were webbed around the vents, casting a soft glow. By the rooftop's edge was a red gingham blanket, weighed down by two mugs, a thermos, and what looked like a mysterious lump of tin foil.
And Peter.
Peter!!! Wade could practically feel the hearts coming out of his eyes.
He was sitting cross-legged on the blanket, in his civvies, cheeks pink, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. And then, he looked over his shoulder.
"Hey," Peter said, giving him a shy little smile. "Um. I know you did the picnic thing for me. And it was..." He trailed off, looking down, then back up again. "I just... I wanted to do something for you, too."
Wade opened his mouth, and no words came out. That was a fucking first.
Not a joke. Not a pun. Nothing.
Just a feeling — huge, messy, warm — fizzing in his chest like someone shook up a soda can full of hearts and dropped it right into his ribcage.
“Is this a dream? Did I pass out from too much cuteness?” There’s the joke. Then Wade got quiet, weirdly overwhelmed. Blinking a lot because he wasn’t crying at all in front of Peter (he was totally crying).
Peter patted the blanket beside him. "Come sit with me?"
“Don’t have to ask me twice. Don’t even have to ask me once. One look at you and this sweet little setup and my ass is yours, baby.”
Wade made his way over and sat. Hard. His knees gave out a little, landing in the soft little world Peter had made just for them.
“I’m glad you came,” Peter said, smiling softly. “I, um... felt bad about how last time went. You always make me feel better, and I didn’t really do that for you. I just wanted to do something for you this time.”
Wade nearly fell off the roof. “Holy shit. That is a fuck-ton of Petey exposition. I always make you feel better? And, you… wanted to do something for me?”
“Well, yeah,” Peter said, ducking his head with a shy little shrug.
Wade kicked off his boots. “Baby boy, you confuse this shit out of me. Which happens to be one of my turn-ons.”
Peter met his eyes — soft, a little nervous still — and nudged the thermos toward him. “I made you hot chocolate, too, it’s not hand-whisked, but it is the one with the little marshmallows."
“Shut the fuck up. The little marshmallows?”
“Yeah.”
Wade clapped his hands together. “I love the little marshmallows! I hope they all clump together and turn into one super marshmallow!”
Crap, why was Wade being so cute right now? “Heh. Maybe if they melt a little, you’ll get the super-mallow.” Peter playfully nudged Wade’s shoulder with his. “Oh, I also made cookies.” Peter unwrapped the foil bundle, slightly burnt cookies tumbling out, some shaped vaguely like stars, some like blobs.
"I tried," Peter said sheepishly. "You don't have to eat them."
Wade shoved two into his mouth and made a grand show of weeping.
“My beautiful boy baked for me," he moaned dramatically, cookie crumbs spraying. "I'm a kept man. Goodnight moon. I'm retiring.”
“Does Wade Wilson eat sandwiches on retirement? Cuz I brought some.” Peter dug into his backpack, retrieving two zip-lock bags. “Peanut butter. Sorry, it’s all I could afford. But, I cut the crusts off for us.”
“Shut the fuck up, you cut the crusts off! You thoughtful little sweetie. Have you ever tried Uncrustables?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, no. I’ve seen Uncrustables at the store, but they’re too expensive.”
“Remind me to buy you a pack of every flavor. You’d fucking love Uncrustables.”
Peter’s chest fluttered. Wade was always so thoughtful. “Okay.”
A deja vu of rooftop hot chocolate and snacks dizzied around them, and somewhere between laughter and cookies, Peter found himself tucked under Wade’s arm, their legs tangled on the blanket, and it felt natural. Safe. Like the best place to be. He sighed a happy little sound.
“Hey –”
“Hey, Petey. What’s on that pretty Parker mind?”
Peter felt his chest flutter. “There’s… something I wanted to tell you. I uhh… wanted to tell you this the last time. But I didn’t want it to come out wrong or sound stupid, and well, here we are on the roof again, and so uhh – holy crap I’m babbling. I mean… ” Come on, Parker, just like the 58 times we practiced.
“My sweet little spider bean, you know you can tell me anything, right? Unless it’s that you’re into Torch-y more than me.”
“Huh? What?”
“Ha! Jk. I’m so silly when I’m jelly.”
Peter’s cheeks tinged pink. “Um. Just—okay, so this is probably dumb—”
“Whoa. First of all, nothing you say is dumb. Ever. Unless you start trash-talking Hello Kitty, in which case I’ll forgive you, but only after a fifty-slide PowerPoint on why she is the baddest bish ever.”
“Maybe I should’ve made a PowerPoint for this.” Peter let out a nervous laugh.
“For what sweetums?”
Peter let out a puff of air. Okay, here goes. “I was just wondering... like, because I really, really like you. And I don’t wanna mess it up. So I guess I’m asking—do you maybe wanna, like… be my boyfriend?”
Wade stared at him for a beat, then made a noise like he'd just been kicked in the heart by a unicorn.
Peter froze. “Sorry, that was silly. Haha, if you don’t want to, I—”
“Hold the fucking pickles,” Wade gasped, practically vibrating. “Back that adorable Spidey butt up. Did you just ask me to be your boyfriend? Me?!”
Peter nodded, ears pink. “I… yeah. I really like you, Wade. A lot. Will you?”
Wade blinked at him, wide-eyed, then made a sound between a squeal and a gasp and launched forward, arms wrapping tightly around Peter.
“OH MY GODD, OF COURSE I WILL!! EEEEEEE!!!! OMG OMG OMG,” Wade started breathing heavily, practically bouncing in Peter’s lap, still squeezing him. “Wanna take a picture together, baby boy? I want to remember this moment forever.”
Wade already had his phone out, turning it toward them, but Peter hesitated, digging into his backpack. “Actually…” He held up a small Polaroid camera. “I, uh. I brought this. Just in case. I have two left… we can each have one?”
Wade stared at Peter as if he had just handed him a gold chimichanga. “You perfect, ridiculous man.”
They leaned in close, cheek to cheek, and Peter clicked the shutter. The photo slid out with a soft whir — warm and a little blurry, just like the moment itself.
Peter held it carefully, blowing on the edge. “It’s cute,” he murmured, glancing up at Wade. “Wade, I–I wanted to say it last time, I really did, it’s just I –” His fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the photo as a little twinge of nerves flickered. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” he admitted, voice shy. “So I might not be great at it.”
Wade leaned in, nose brushing Peter’s. “Hey. You’re already amazing at it.” Then, more gently, “And we’ll figure it out together, yeah?”
Peter smiled, still a little pink, still holding the Polaroid like it was something precious. He leaned in for a kiss — soft, warm, a little awkward at first, like they were both smiling too much to get the angle right. But then Wade tilted his head, cupped Peter’s cheek, and everything settled into place.
Peter's lashes fluttered when they finally pulled apart, and he tucked the photo to his chest. He grinned, a little breathless. “So… boyfriend?”
“Boyfriends! Aaaaaaa I can’t believe it!! Baby doll, I just… eee! I’m about to shout it from the rooftop. Plug your ears, this might make you nerv-y, ‘kay?”
“Heh, okay.”
But Peter didn't plug his ears. He sat, dreamily looking up at Wade while he puffed out his chest and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“PETER PARKER IS MY BOYFRIEND! TO MEEEEEEE!! WADE WINSTON WILSON AND PETER PARKER. OMGGGGG!”
Peter flushed, heart thudding so hard it echoed in his ears. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then—
“WADE WILSON IS MY BOYFRIEND!” he shouted, voice cracking just a little. “AND I LIKE HIM A LOT, OKAY?!”
A tingling swept up the back of Peter’s neck and bloomed across his face. Yeah, he was a little embarrassed, but, crap, it felt good. Felt right.
He almost wanted to shout it again, but instead tucked his head into Wade’s shoulder, and they snapped the second Polaroid, both blowing on it at the same time, heads nuzzled close as they watched it develop together.
Afterwards, they stayed like that for a while — legs tangled, while the city lights twinkled just for them.
Everything else could wait.
Up here, it was just them, the stars, and their rooftop picnic.