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Living with Wade Wilson was...eventful. At least that's the term Peter would use if he had to describe his current situation to an outsider. He'd started writing journal on his laptop -yes he refused calling it a diary because that'd make him sound like a 10yo– now that something worth writing about actually happened in his life. Honestly after revealing his identity to the mercenary he hadn't expected for things to go so smoothly. Wade definitely had his quirks, a bunch of them and it still made Peter wary when he started having conversations or rather arguments with himself or whoever he's talking to. Nevertheless he'd never threatened the shapeshifter or ask for more favors than their deal included.
Peter kept the flat clean, sometimes stitched up and washed Deadpool's ripped costume. At this point he was a real champ at getting rid off blood stains. Thanks to being confronted with the sight of various slash, burn and bullet wounds on an almost daily basis he'd become more or less immune to it. Wade losing his guts while being on the way to the bathroom still unsettled his own stomach but Peter would go after him to make sure he could take care of it and didn't need his assistance. That's what roomies are for right?
Now that he didn't need to hide anymore the shapeshifter spend most of his time in his human form. It required getting used to the sensation of having only four limbs and one pair of eyes. His visual angle was different for obvious reasons and he'd lost his appetite for insects together with his tiny stomach. Wade had been surprised at first when he refused his usual bowl of mealworms and eyed the mercenary's plate stacked with burritos instead.
„So your tastes varies depending on your...species?“, Wade asked curiously, handing over one of the burritos before Spidey would start drooling. He's more adorable now that he had a range of expressions the mercenary could actually read.
„Do you have any ideas how many bugs I'd have to eat to fill my stomach? Mealworms also taste super bland. As a spider I need way less, it's convenient.“, Peter explained with a light shrug, taking a big bite from the overstuffed burrito. This way he'd managed not to spend any money for food or drinks, only eating what he found or got caught in his webs. God, how much he'd missed the taste of Mexican food on his tongue. Peter involuntarily let out a thrilled groan before swallowing.
„Oh wow this is like watching porn, did you just have an orgasm?“
„Maybe. This burrito is actually better than some of the sex I've had.“, Peter answered in between bites, trying not to speak with his mouth full because his aunt had taught him some manners and he wouldn't let Wade's bad behavior influence him.
„That's the kind of oversharing I like listening to.“
„Thanks for sharing dinner with me.“, the brunet was quick to change the subject. Somehow tasty food had an akin effect on him as alcohol, making him spill way too much personal stuff and thoughts. That's why he tried to literally stuff his mouth with more burrito. Surprisingly Wade dropped the subject instead of going for it like a bloodhound.
„You gotta do the dishes so we're even.“
„There's hardly anything left to wash by the way you lick off the plate every time...“
„Never waste good sauce or tiny bits!“
„Puddles of grease you mean.“
„No one likes smartypants! Eat your meal you puny beanpole.“
Most of their evenings were filled with easy banter like this, usually accompanied by watching series. Peter who could finally make his own remarks didn't hold back, feeling delighted whenever one of his comments made Wade laugh beside him. They started switching between picking TV shows and despite Wade's initial protest against The IT Crowd he was now a big fan too. Peter felt like he had to catch up with so many stuff he had missed. In the beginning of his new living arrangements he spent half of his nights on the internet, googling and reading until his eyes started to ache. It wasn't unusual for him to wake up facedown on the keyboard and of course his roomie would never fail to make fun of the square imprints on his skin in the morning.
Wade had given him his own room, something Peter hadn't even outright asked for. He had no issues with sleeping in a corner or underneath the couch. His backpack was discarded in a corner of the living room where he'd spent most of his time anyway. As a spider he had no need for the comfort of a soft mattress. Wade was persistent tho and it'd be ungrateful of Peter to reject the generous offer. Unfortunately his new bedroom wasn't very inviting mainly because of one wall being completely covered with guns of various sizes. Yes, he was aware Wade needed them for his job but it made Peter feel like standing in an arms shop. At least he didn't have to worry about having to face a burglar unprepared. Not that he had any idea about how to properly handle a gun. Voicing those thoughts was a mistake. They spend the next few hours disassembling guns and then putting them back together.
„You're a natural.“, Wade praised him after he'd managed to slot the last clip into place.
„It's basically like a deathly puzzle. They still make me feel uncomfortable. It's useful to know how they work but I don't wanna shoot anybody.“
„Don't worry you won't have to, that's what I'm here for.“, Wade claimed, blowing away non-existent gun smoke and winking at Peter which only got him an eye-roll from the brunet. They came up with a compromise. The weapons stayed in Peter's bedroom but the ammunition and the grenades where transferred into Wade's room.
Naturally living together wasn't always a smooth ride, from time to time it became bumpy. Peter was standing under the shower, quietly singing to himself and shampooing his hair when all of a sudden the bathroom door burst open and Wade hurried inside. The shower stall was out of milk glass so the other man was just a silhouettes but that didn't mean Peter couldn't tell that he pushed down his pants and took a piss.
„Hey, the bath is occupied!“, the brunet called out in protest.
„Noted but I drank one gallon root beer and my bladder was about to burst.“
„Ever heard of the term privacy?“
„Yeah, it's right beneath the word prick in the dictionary. Aaaand I'm done so no need to get your nuts in a twist.“
„Wade don't-“
His warning came just a second too late. Wade flushed the toilet forgetting that it would momentarily turn the warm water in the shower icecold. Peter let out a screech that could rival the protagonist of a second-rate horror movie.
„Whoopsie, my bad!“
Barely hearing that half-assed apology Peter turned off the water and stepped out the shower with clattering teeth. Before Wade could get a catch a proper look of the naked beauty that was in front of him Peter turned into his spider-self. The arachnid quickly scrambled out of the bath, leaving a small, wet trail behind. For the rest of the day Wade received the cold shoulder treatment and no human interaction whatsoever.
It might seem like an overreaction but this wasn't the first time Wade had barged into the room without his permission. Only last week he'd entered Peter's bedroom without knocking and walked in on him during his 'self-care' time. It was embarrassing and the fact that Wade told him „it's nothing to be ashamed of, release the seed!“ only made it 100% worse. Peter felt like his face was about to melt off and a part of his soul dying. Surely he'd still remember this incident for the rest of his miserable life. The following hours he'd retreated into his spider skin because the big advantage of that form of his was that his emotions became less intense. This certainly wasn't a healthy way of coping with his feelings but Peter wasn't in the mood to psychoanalyze himself right now. Meeting Wade for dinner that night was a bit like doing the walk of shame. He'd considered simply skipping one meal and putting together the shattered pieces of his dignity instead but he was weak and hungry since his stomach had gotten used to two dishes per day.
A decent roomie wouldn't have mentioned the occurrence™ but this was the Merc with a mouth they're talking about.
„You're tense like a rod which weren't the case if you would've polished yours.“
„I'm gonna pour hot sauce into your eyes if you mention this again today or in the future.“
„Kinky.“
Wade seemed to realize that he'd not just toed but overstepped their boundaries and tried to make up for it. He never outright apologized to Peter yet when the brunet returned from one of their shopping trips there was a brand new lock on his bedroom door the keys for it and a little noted taped beside it.
'Don't be cranky treat yourself to a wank-y'
Suddenly Peter didn't feel so bad about passive-aggressively buying soy milk and sugar reduced cereals anymore. Wade deserved to suffer. Peter didn't bother to suppress the gleeful smile that curved his lips at the mercenary's disgusted expression during breakfast the next morning.
Peter needed a hobby or a job. This mind-blowing realization became more and more obvious the longer he stayed at Wade's place as housekeeper and part-time student. The flat didn't have to be cleaned on a daily basis, food was often ordered or cooked by Wade after Peter managed to set a pot of noodles on fire that one time. He'd gotten distracted and forgot about the time...really it could've happened to everyone! That didn't stop Wade from revoking his stove privileges which wasn't as bad as the mercenary made it sound. There's still the microwave. The microwave in question only had one little catch. It tended to randomly shock the user.
When Peter was a little kid his parents had given him a game for his birthday with a kinda similar play mechanism. Okay that sounded way more sadistic than it actually was. A plastic crocodile with teeth that had to be pushed down by the players. One of the teeth triggered the crocodile and let his jaws snap shut. Not in the way the player lost a finger -it was supposed to be entertaining after all- but enough to startle the person that was affected. Peter never had the heart to tell his parents that he disliked their present. He also didn't intend to tell Wade about the ongoing problem. His roommate must've experienced the defect himself and apparently didn't deem it necessary to take measures. Finally Peter had found a new project to keep his mind and hands busy.
Wade came home to a crime scene and caught the culprit red-handed. The poor victim was his beloved microwave aka Hellfire 2.0.
„What have you done?“, wailed the mercenary, dropping onto his knees in front of the device which innards were spread all over the living room table.
„I'm repairing it so we won't get electrocuted anymore whenever you hit the start button.“, came the reply from Peter who wasn't impressed by his roommates overdramatic display of emotions. He'd get over it and Peter was around 80% sure he could make this death trap work again.
„Oh I liked that, made my heart skip a beat.“
„That's not healthy.“
„Healthy is for mortals!“
„Just let this mere mortal be productive, Dracula. If I'm not allowed to fix this I might just turn the junk in the backyard into a Transformer.“
„I'm voting for killer machine.“
„No surprise.“
In the end Peter managed to assemble the microwave. With not a single leftover screw if he might add. Although he was pretty sure the electric appliance was working properly again the shapeshifter let Wade do the honor testing it first. Expectantly watching while Wade repeatedly pressed the button and outright provoking to get shocked it seemed like he'd done a decent job. Aunt May would be proud if she knew that some of the stuff her husband had taught him stuck in Peter's memory. Dammit, when was the last time he'd even called her? He should pay her a visit and give her some vague details about his current situation so she wouldn't have to worry about her nephew.
„So about that killerbot we're talking about...“ That sentence was more than enough to bring Peter back to the present, giving his roomie a stern look.
„Wade no.“