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The cool night breeze soothes Peter Parker, like it was hugging him in a slightly cold embrace. Also it felt great since he felt a little sweaty. On weekends like these, he would patrol the city as Spiderman, capturing robbers and swinging over miles of city. By the end, he would be tired and hungry. So he would get some pizza or convenient food. Tonight was going to be slightly different. He did those things above, but tonight he would also check out his local library’s coloring book club.
He walks away from his motorbike, towards the library. I hear that adults have been coloring more, as a way to relieve stress, Peter thinks. God knows I need some stress relief. He opens the library door and walks in, holding his book bag close to him. Mr. Cole, the librarian, looks up from his book and smiles at the younger man.
“Why hello, Peter. I’ve never seen you here so late,” he says, beginning to stand up. Peter walks over to the man’s desk and shakes his hand.
“I’m actually here to check out the coloring book club. Has it started yet?” Peter asks, adjusting his glasses. He didn’t actually need them, but it helped with his mild mannered alter ego. But even out of Spidey costume, he was/is really a nerd.
“It started a few minutes ago,” the man replies, sitting down again. “I hope you enjoy it.”
Peter nods and smiles at the man then goes into the main part of the library, scoping out where it might be. He should’ve asked Mr. Cole. He goes into the biography part of the library, gazing silently at the books. After a few moments of that he moves towards the back, to the children’s section. About a dozen people sit in the middle of a toy section, their heads bent in concentration. They’re all coloring in coloring books. Two people in hoodies seem to be in deep conversation, whispering loudly.
Peter walks a little closer to the group, not sure how to introduce himself. He clears his throat and whispers to the library assistant, who is also coloring, “Is this the cult of color?”
The assistant raises her head and gestures to the coloring books. “Make yourself at home,” she says. Peter sits outside of the circle and puts his book bag next to him on the floor. The people make room for him and he smiles politely at the assistant.
“Oh. Everyone, meet Peter,” the assistant says, gesturing to him. A few people murmur their names.
“I’m Wendy,” a small old lady says, shaking Peter’s hand with both hands. “It’s nice to see a new face around here.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Peter whispers, giving her hand a little squeeze. She reminds him of Aunt May. He makes a mental note to bring her here when he has the chance. The assistant sighs and gently pats the arm of one of the hooded people. The person is apparently arguing about Star Wars.
“Geez, what is it?” the person says, in a normal voice. But it’s a weirdly familiar voice. Peter’s heart pounds as his eyes meet the other person’s blue ones. The man looks familiar. But with a face like that, scarred and expressive, you’d think he’d instantly recognize him.
“I-I’m Peter,” Peter whispers, stretching out his hand to the scarred man.
“I’m Wade Wilson. What do you think of Jar Jar Binks?” he asks, tilting his head pointedly.
“Abomination.” Peter says without hesitation.
“Nice,” Wade says, a smile spreading over his face. “What about Hayden Christensen?”
“He’s uh..cool,” Peter says, scratching his cheek.
“You bet. He’s also cute,” the scarred man says, “but I think you’re cuter.” After that he winks at Peter and returns to drawing. Peter feels his cheeks get pinker and he awkwardly looks through the coloring books.
“Thanks,” he says, picking a zoo themed coloring book. He has to admit, getting complimented every now and then is nice. The man next to Wade groans and gets up, walking away. Peter nervously bites his lip, wondering if he should say something nice about the stranger as well. Or would that be like flirting? he wonders. He shrugs it off and focuses on coloring in a lion.
The other people are drawing in the lines, neat as can be. Some people use odd colors, like Wendy. Her cats are all purple or red. Peter glances over at Wade’s. Both pages are filled with words, mini doodles, etc. Peter smiles at it, thinking that this guy must be pretty creative or easily bored. Maybe he’s an artist? Peter glances up at the guy’s face. He looks focused, since his eyebrows are furrowed. Or what’s left of his eyebrows. He must’ve been involved in some kind of accident. I hope the scars aren’t as painful as they look, Peter thinks.
Wade looks up, probably feeling Peter’s gaze on him. As he does, Peter looks back down at his coloring book, his heart pounding in his chest. He knowsssss. How many times does Aunt May tell me not to stare? The guy must be so hurt. He looks back up from his coloring book, checking Wade’s expression. He’s staring directly at him, smirking at Peter. He instinctively blushes in embarrassment.
“No matter how many times you beg, young Padawan, Darth Sidious isn’t accepting disciples,” Wade says, gesturing to himself.
“Library voices,” the assistant whispers to Wade. He sticks his tongue out at her, wagging it for emphasis. She frowns at him but continues drawing; she must be used to this.
“But you have so much to teach, your evilness,” Peter whispers, arching an eyebrow at Wade.
“Perhaps you can prove yourself. And that’s hideous Sidious to you, young one,” Wade says, in a croaky voice. Peter giggles at the voice but quietly hushes down at the other people’s looks. He adjusts his glasses and fills in the bush.
“Thank you, Mr. Sidious,” Peter whispers, changing the coloring page.
After about thirty minutes, Peter had filled half of the coloring book. In that time frame, Wade drew but also chatted with the people around them, only getting into one argument about the usefulness of balloons. In the quiet moments, Peter also felt Wade staring at him. He could see the smirk from the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. They could talk after the coloring book club, Peter thought. About Star Wars.
He felt a little nudge on his arm. Wendy presses a folded piece of paper into his hand and smiles at him. “It’s from the nice man who was talking to you earlier,” she whispers, winking at Peter.
Peter looks back at her, slightly confused but unfolds it anyway. It says: Let’s get some hot dogs after this, young grasshopper. He chuckles and glances over at Wade. The man is still drawing so Peter goes back to his coloring book. Normally he would refuse as it was so late, but what would it hurt? Just two dudes getting food. No homo. Peter rolls his eyes at the cliche phrase.
“Alright, that’s it for tonight’s session. Hand in your coloring books. Tomorrow night will be another coloring night, but this time we’ll have paints to go along with some other kinds of books,” the assistant announces, gathering up the coloring books.
“Oh! Can we get face paint?” Wade asks, raising his hand.
“Well, you can get them if
want,” the assistant says, putting the coloring books away. Wade nods resolutely and grins at Peter. Peter smiles back at him.
The people in the club chat while the librarians get ready to shut everything down. Peter picks up his book bag and walks over to the front doors, looking over his shoulder every once in awhile. Wade was talking to the assistant still. The mild mannered Peter shrugs and pushes the front doors open, walking out into the parking lot.
Suddenly his Spidey-sense goes wild. Before he can move, he feels an arm wrapped around him. He gasps and sees none other than Wade Wilson, grinning down at him. “Oh. I thought you were still inside,” Peter gasps out.
“Trying to lose me, cutie?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, your sithliness,” Peter replies, chuckling. “And I have this feeling that you’re hitting on me.”
“I’m being nice. Also yeah, I am hitting on you,” Wade says, pulling his hood back. He’s bald. That’s also familiar. Maybe he knew Wade from the X-men...or some other place? Peter swallows, just realizing the last thing Wade said.
“Well ah...I’m flattered but-”
“So what do you say to the hot dogs?” Wade interrupts, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
“I’d love some,” Peter replies, stretching out his arms. “But as I was saying, I’m pretty...mostly straight.”
“And yet you’re going to have sausage in your mouth later,” says Wade, leaning against a lamp post and giggling. Peter rolls his eyes and scans the parking lot, trying to hide a smile.
“So..how’d you get here? Do you have a car?”
“Nah. I walked,” Wade says, crossing his arms. Peter frowns in thought, looking at his motorcycle.
“Well, we could take my motorcycle,” Peter says. “Luckily I always bring another helmet.”
“There’s nothing lame about safety,” Wade says, picking up the other helmet and putting it on carefully. “But please, don’t quote me on that.”
Peter nods and smiles, getting on his motorcycle. He puts on his own helmet and starts the motorcycle, leaning on one side. Wade scans Peter and gives him two thumbs up.
“You look totally badass! Very James Dean meets cute teacher!” Wade shouts over the sound of the motorcycle.
“Thanks! Get on,” Peter says, revving it up. And looking badass is one of the reasons why I got this, Peter thinks. Wade hops on the back, giving Petey a spook at the sudden movement. He wraps his arms firmly around Peter’s waist.
“You’re so tiny!” Wade shouts. “Oh my, he’s like two times smaller than me. Small spoon.”
“You’re just too big,” Peter whispers. “That sounds wrong.” He pushes up the motorcycle stand and starts moving out of the parking lot. Wade presses against his back and he can feel the helmet press against his shoulder.
Peter moves out of the parking lot and onto the road, heading towards where the hotdog stand is. Since it’s his favorite food, Peter always keeps track of hot dog stands. And other stands...and restaurants. It’s a part of being a New Yorker.
“Did I also tell you that you have a great ass as well as being badass?” Wade says, scooting up a little in the seat.
“No... but hey, your butt doesn’t look so bad either.”
“Damn. I’ll take that. You’re so sweet!” Wade squeals rather loudly, squeezing Peter’s waist. Peter’s heart skips a beat; he wasn’t expecting this guy to be so muscular. He definitely knows this guy from somewhere else.
Peter attempts to turn his head a little. “So do you have a job, besides being a dark lord?” he asks, turning a rather sharp corner.
Wade shrieks and squeezes him firmly. “Uhhh! I dress up as Disney princesses for kid’s parties! And I sometimes kill people!”
“Those both scare me!” Peter replies, laughing out loud nonetheless. “It’s okay, you can tell me later. I take pictures for the Daily Bugle!”
“So you’re the guy who takes pictures of Spidey! Have you considered taking some nice shots of uhh..Deadpool? I mean, besides his personality you have to admit he looks great in a tight suit,” Wade says loudly, moving his hands to Peter’s shoulders. “That suit is badass, too.”
“I don’t know, I haven’t really seen Deadpool in New York,” Peter says, shivering a little at the thought. He didn’t interact much with the merc. He once had a mission to stop him from assassinating Daredevil, which didn’t end in that much blood shed. But he certainly doesn’t trust the merc, or even like him. Perhaps Deadpool reminds him of what he could’ve been if he’d chosen a different path in life?
Peter takes a sharp turn and Wade squeezes his shoulders. Wade clears his throat and shouts: “You know I’ve actually seen Deadpool here, a few days ago. He saved my cat from a tree. Real nice guy!”
“Seriously? I mean, I don’t really know him, but I thought he was a mercenary?” Peter laughs a little, imagining Deadpool rescuing a confused kitty.
“Oooh pshaw. Doesn’t mean mercenaries can’t be nice!”
Peter shrugs and quickly spots the hot dog vender. He parks on the side, pretty close to the curb and kicks out the motorcycle stand. He stops it and takes off his helmet, while Wade hops off. The cool breeze soothes the sweat on his forehead. He adjusts his glasses, since they went askew as he took the helmet off. Wade pulls off his helmet and hurriedly pulls his hood over his head, looking around as he does. Peter guesses he must be self conscious about his scars. Peter also guesses that he shouldn’t ask about it until there was a good chance to. Or if he gets to know this guy. Who knows, they could be friends one day.
Wade hands Peter the helmet and Peter gets off the motorcycle, placing the helmet carefully on it. They both go up to the hot dog vender. Peter asks for one with ketchup, mustard, diced onions, and some relish. Wade gets the same but asks for extra of everything.
“How are you going to eat that?” Peter asks, laughing a little.
“With my mouth,” Wade replies, smiling. Peter mumbles something and Wade sits down on the curb, sighing. Peter remains standing, glancing at the hot dogs then back at Wade. After about ten minutes, the hot dog vender hands Peter the hot dogs. He hands Wade’s giant hot dog to him, then sits down next to him on the curb, his own hot dog in hand.
“I have this feeling you’re either trying to out-hot dog me or you’re compensating for something,” Peter says, before taking a big bite.
“I don’t have to compensate for anything. I just like my condiments in heavy quantities,” Wade says quietly, taking a careful bite. Peter of course, nearly chokes on his big bite.
“That sounthed tho wrong,” Peter says, giggling and trying not to choke more. Wade laughs into his hot dog and rubs Peter’s back casually.
“You just have a dirty mind. Hey,” Wade says, as Peter coughs, “be careful dude.”
He giggles and wipes his face with his sleeve, nodding. They take a few more bites and watch as cars zip by. Peter finishes his in a couple moments, realizing he must have been hungry. He leans back on his arms and watches Wade attempt to eat his hot dog.
Whenever Wade bites into it, mustard and ketchup get on his nose. And down his chin. He looks like an absolute mess. Not only that, but his chewing is pretty loud. Wade turns to him and frowns.
“I’m not sharing this,” Wade says, taking a messy but small bite.
“Oh that’s ok. It’s just amusing to see you eat that,” Peter says smugly.
Wade snorts and stuffs the whole thing in his face. He swallows it quickly too. Peter’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He moves off of his arms and rests his elbows on his knees. After that he gives Wade some applause, somewhat sarcastically. Wade bows in response.
“So I’m guessing you’re a Star Wars fan and you’ve seen the most recent movies. But do you know Obi is going to have his own movie?” Wade asks, with a burp.
“Actually I haven’t. But that sounds promising,” Peter replies, a little bothered by the food still on Wade’s face.
“You bet your ass it is. The actor for him is at the perfect age where Obi was exiled in Tatooine, so it’s all perfect,” Wade says, waving his hands for a little emphasis. Peter nods, watching as mustard goes down his neck.
“Not only that, but they might be filming in the same place as they did in the 70’s, but that’s just speculation,” Wade goes on. The mustard now stains the hoody and Peter nods, glancing up at the man’s face.
“Sounds awesome. Hold that thought,” Peter says, getting up and going over to the vender. He gets some napkins and sits back down. He hands some to Wade and coughs. “You’ve got food all over your face.”
Wade squints and wipes up his face, murmuring. Peter uses a stray napkin to clean his sleeve, dabbing it as well. He glances up as Wade tosses the used napkins into a nearby trash can. “So as I was saying-”
“You’ve actually got some...on your neck,” Peter says, pointing. Wade huffs and tries to wipe off the left side, then the right.
“It’s still there...here..let me,” Peter says, leaning over without thinking. Wade’s eyes widen and he flinches noticeably.
“Oh god I’m sorry,” Peter says, sitting back quickly. What if this guy was hurt by someone and he just triggered it? Or maybe that was super un-manly? Wait. Why would I care about that? Peter thinks.
“It’s fine,” Wade says, still trying to wipe his neck. “Ugh. J-just try again. I was just a little surprised, Petey.”
“Ok,” Peter whispers. He picks up the stray napkin and begins wiping off the food on Wade’s neck, frowning at it. He feels Wade’s gaze on him and it only makes him concentrate more. Gotta avoid being too rough. After he’s done he looks up into Wade’s eyes. And just stares.
“Um...Wade…”
“Yeah?”
“I...I just have this feeling, this weird feeling. That I know you from somewhere.”
“I might have taught you some things before,” Wade whispers, grinning.
“What?” Peter asks, confused. He sits up like he was sitting before, his cheeks a little hot.
“You seem like a nerd but you have trouble figuring things out,” Wade says, leaning back on his arms and letting out a content sigh.
“Were you a... high school teacher?”
“High school couldn’t handle this much class,” Wade says. “You ask a lot of questions. How about I ask you one? Why did you agree to go get hot dogs?”
“I was hungry. And you seem alright,” Peter answers, leaning his head on his hand and gazing at the other man. He’s definitely not from high school. I guess I should ask less questions and just enjoy the company, Peter decides.
“Thanks. You know...it’s really nice out. I like this kind of weather. It’s not too cold or hot. Just a little breezy.”
Peter nods in agreement and leans his head in both hands, looking out into the busy street. “It’s good for jogs too. You can run for a while, get a little sweaty. But then if you stay still for a bit, you get a nice breeze.”
“Air out your pits.”
Peter Parker chuckles and looks over at the other man. Wade smiles faintly back at him then looks back at the street. Another motorcycle roars as it flies past the yellow light. The other cars come to a stop and Peter yawns.
“Someone’s tired,” Wade says. Peter nods and shivers as a sharp breeze goes through him.
“I’ve been staying up too late lately,” Peter says, scooting a little closer to Wade. Wade does the same.
“Ahh you youngins need sleep to grow,” Wade says in a terrible old man voice, cackling after. Peter rolls his eyes but smiles anyway.
“Yeah, thanks Grandpa.”
Wade giggles scarily close to like a schoolgirl and Peter giggles back. Wade scoots so their legs touch each other and Peter doesn’t move. His mission is complete now. To steal this guys body warmth, but without cuddling. Not many people cuddle someone they just met. Some, somewhere out there.
“This is nice,” Wade says, “best date I’ve had in awhile.”
“Mm,” Peter hums and nods. He didn’t bother thinking of his definition of what a date is, but if this is a date...it’s nice. Peter rubs his eye under his glasses and gingerly pats Wade’s knee. The guy doesn’t flinch so Peter smiles almost to himself. Wade slowly puts a scarred hand over Peter’s. His hand is soft, not like what Peter thought it would be. Peter just lets his hand rest on Wade’s knee, not thinking about it too much.
“Are you going to coloring book club again?” Wade inquires, slowly interlocking his fingers with Peter’s. Peter looks up from their hands at Wade and they both lock eyes.
“Yeah, I will. If face painting is involved I’ll transform you into Darth Sidious, your true form,” Peter says, smiling and giving Wade’s hand a little squeeze.
“I’ll just paint a dick on your face,” Wade says, “or a vagina. You won’t know. It’s a surprise now. It could be anything.”
Peter smirks and slowly loosens his hand. Wade’s hand also loosens. The feeling is warm and soft. Peter almost wants to rest his head on Wade’s shoulder, but then he might fall asleep like that.
“I should probably start heading to my crib soon,” the other man says, slowly pulling his hand away. Peter does the same and stretches his arms out, feeling a little disappointed.
“Oh. Ok. Well it was nice meeting you,” Peter says, smiling contently at Wade. He smiles back at Peter and springs up onto his feet.
“The weird thing is, we have met before. I can see your Spidey sense,” Wade says, pointing at Peter’s head. At that moment, all tiredness springs out of Peter’s body.
“What? Spidey sense? Wh-what’s that? Where?” Peter stutters out questions, standing up as well.
“It’s shiny,” Wade says, giggling.
Suddenly it dawns on him like a giant, red target on his forehead. He sputters out more words and rubs his eyes in disbelief. Then does it again, staring at Wade. Who is in fact, Deadpool. He even knew his real name already. He just thought having that name could be a coincidence? His pulse quickens as he realizes another important
thing.
“If you t-tell anyone my real identity-”
“You’ll kill me, I get it,” Wade says, smirking and sauntering up to Peter. “Your secret is safe with me. As long as you come to face painting day.”
Peter still watches him in disbelief. “Ok.”
“And if you pay my rent.”
“Oh...no, no I won’t,” Peter says, shaking his head and letting out a short laugh.
“Damn it, I thought I shocked you enough,” Wade, or Deadpool says, kicking a pebble. “I guess I should get out of your hair now.”
Peter gathers up his nerves and scratches his neck, nodding at Wade. The merc sighs and turns around. Peter notices how his sighs get louder and louder as Wade walks away. He frowns at Wade’s back and walks over to him, tugging at the older man’s sleeve.
“Yes?” Wade says and turns around, beaming.
“I...had a nice time tonight. Maybe after face painting we could eat some ice cream on a balcony. The view is really nice from there,” Peter says, putting his hands on his hips and looking up at a nearby building. He looks back at Wade, who is practically sparkling.
“Fuck yeah, let’s do that,” Wade says, giving him a thumb up.
“It’s set in stone now,” the younger man says, “and now I’m going to go pass out on my couch.”
Wade nods and stretches out his hand, asking for a handshake. Peter looks at his hand and smiles like a little kid, then promptly wraps his arms around Wade, pressing against him. Wade groans in mock disgust, returning the hug with firm arms.
“I can’t believe you haven’t preached to me yet, Spidey,” Wade whispers, squeezing Peter softly.
“Mmm just you wait,” Peter says. “And I can’t believe you haven’t hit on me in the past 30 minutes.”
“Well my dick is going to get really hard if you keep pressing against-”
“Ok,” Peter says, patting Wade’s back and pulling away from him, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I could talk all about my katana-”
“I’m sure you can, Wade,” Peter says, crossing his arms and backing up a little. “But it’s time for bed.”
“Ugh..ok Mom. Goodnight then,” Wade says, smiling warmly at Peter.
“See you soon,” Peter says. He smiles back at Wade and slowly turns on his heel, thinking about how awkward this must look to Wade. He walks towards his motorcycle, looking over his shoulder once. The other man was gone, almost as if he poofed into the night breeze.
Peter puts on his helmet and sits on his motorcycle, his heart skipping a beat. But he felt weirdly relaxed at the same time. It wasn’t often he could just sit down, watch traffic, and just enjoy someone else’s company like that. And it was like he knew Wade for years, like they’d always been friends. Peter starts the motorcycle engine and hums to himself. I guess the coloring book club did relieve stress.