Chapter Text
"Spidey! Spidey-Pie! Spidey-Darling!"
Joyful shouts broke the silence of the starry night. Spider-Man sat on his favorite rooftop and dangled his legs over the edge, watching the yellow christmas lights everywhere and the cars that drove in the streets beneath him within the middle of the night, waiting for the first promised snowflakes to fall. He turned around and saw the tall troublemaker in the red and black suit jumping towards him, like a child who just got a way too expensive candy cotton after begging for it for hours.
"Hey, DP. I've been waiting for you for almost half an hour. Where have you been that long? Im freezing to death and the tacos have gone cold already." Slight annoyance was audible in Spider-Mans muffled voice as he spoke through the fabric of his suit, yet he was happy to meet his part-time companion again. He had something to tell to him and he couldn't wait for his friend to hear the good news. Little clouds from his breathing vanished in the icy air.
"I'm terribly sorry, sweetums. There was a old lady stuck in a christmas tree and her fluffy-puffy cat was soooo worried about her, so I had to step in and rescue the poor unfortunate soul from her sorrowful fate. You know, friendly neighbourhood Deadpool and so on."
The Merc with the mouth tried to excuse himself while dancing towards him. His guns hung heavy on his belt and his Katanas swung around as he pirouetted and seated himself beside the younger man, almost stumbling over his own feet as he tried to impress his friend.
"I'm not buying that cheap excuse of a fairy tale, asshole." The young Spider-Man laughed at the sight of Deadpool trying to imitate a ballerina and while chuckling he shook his head. As the other man finally sat down on the edge beside him, Peter pushed his mask up to his nose and gestured DP to dig in. They never spoke with their masks up, since it would reveal their natural voices, being incognito was more to their mutual liking. The paper bag between them was filled with almost cold tacos but neither of them cared. The younger one pulled two bottles of ice cold coke out of his blue backpack behind him and gave one to his companion who still struggled with his mask. As DP finally managed to get the fabric of his mouth he didn't hesitate one second and bit right into the Mexican fast-food. Peter, a.k.a. our beloved Spider-Man, got himself one of the less spicy tacos and watched his friends profile as he gobbled up his late night dinner. In the dim light he saw the faint outlines of the scars that stretched over the pale skin of Deadpool's chin as he swallowed his food. He always wondered where he got those, but he never dared to ask. It seemed to be a delicate topic for his friend. Both guys enjoyed the silence and darkness of the night and without talking, just eating beside each other, they got lost in their own thoughts, talking could wait until they finished eating, they were starving. Peter's mind went back to his very first meeting with Deadpool, while his big brown eyes behind his mask traced the patterns of scar tissue on his friends jawline...
Spider-Man had met the Merc with the mouth about almost a year ago. He had been on a rather random routine patrol and stumbled into a very bloody fight, his spider senses tingling like crazy. Two of New York's most dangerous gangs had been fighting in the dark alleys at the edge of their territories. Peter had tried to get the civilians out of the fighting zone and out of the blue there had been a red ninja unarming and slicing up the Yakuza bosses errand boys. Most probably by mere chance, the ex-soldier had rescued Spider-Man's life and as things came together the two red dressed men started to hang out on rooftops, sharing some food from time to time. Though Peter knew the pool-guy for almost 12 months, he had never seen his face without the mask, neither had the Merc told him his real name. Well, Peter hadn't revealed his identity to him as well, so they were kind of even. Though sometimes Peter wondered if their weird relationship already counted as friendship. Having the weirdo as his friend did have a nice sound to it.
Peter swallowed his last bite of taco and took a sip of the freezing coke. He could feel the cold fluid run down his throat. He shuddered. While Pool was still eating, Peter cleared his throat from the numbness, pulled his mask back down and a big smile appeared on his face beneath the fabric as he thought about what he was about to tell his co-worker.
"DP, are you listening? I have to tell you something really awesome that happened today!" He began, not waiting for a response and as he spoke, he felt a light warmth creeping up his cheeks, against the cold air. "You remember that one person I told you about? At Stans' Stop'n'Shop in queens a few weeks ago?"
Peter was fidget and he shoved his hands under his thighs to stop his fingers from doing unnecessary things.
Peter had a crush. It might sound pathetic, talking about that matter to an obviously insane murderer who had to write descriptions on his guns about which end was supposed to point towards the enemy, but despite Deadpool, Peter had no one who would listen to such things without laughing about him, as he was a complete Nerd.
Gwen, his friend from High school, was studying for her master thesis abroad and Harry, Peters friend since childhood, was busy, managing Oscorb as the new CEO in Washington DC. Therefore Deadpool had been there for him, even though they had some difficulties getting along in the beginning. Still, listening to his complaints about college and the part time job at the daily bugle, eating fast food together, rambling about the new Star Wars triology and promising to beat the shit out of Flash whenever the asshole stole his studying supplies. All in all, Deadpool was a good friend. In return Peter had been helping him to become a better man, guiding him at their missions together, spending time with him, since he seemed to be a lonely person behind his mask, his stupid jokes and dirty comments, to learn to get along with White and Yellow, though he still wasn't sure wether Deadpool could really hear them or was just making that story up in order to have someone to talk to on missions.
Yes, all in all they seemed to be good friends by now.
The merc licked his gloved fingers and after finishing the bottle of coke at once, he pulled his own mask back on point while young Spider-Man was waiting beside him, to finally get a response from him. Amused he turned around to have a better look at the youngster, who was obviously nervous, and stuffed the leftover tacos in the pouches on his belt.
"Yeah I do remember that story, I'm not that old yet. You kept rambling about that for almost a month. And judging by your giggly-girly behaviour I'm figuring that the chick finally spoke to you, am I right? Of course I'm right. I know that I'm right. So what's she lookin' like? Big boobs, I hope. Long hair? Glasses? Nope, no glasses with boobs. Wait! Oh holy chimichanga, I hope she's not a trap?! Spidey-Pie please tell your favorite uncle DP that she's not a trap!" He dramatically threw his hands in the dark sky just to grab Peter's shoulders and started to shake the boy as he went with his overboarding fantasy and maybe a slight bit of sincere concern about his friend's innocence being stolen by a foreigner.
"Quit it, Pool!"
Peter freed himself from the man's grasp, his neck hurt from the shaking and a small hit, well-placed at Deadpools apparently empty head, finally shut the blabbermouth up.
"Ouchieee! Spidey-Pie, why did you hit an old man? I thought you were a saint!?"
"Because you're an godforsaken idiot." Peter scolded him, massaging his neck, though he couldn't restraint a small chuckle at the others overbearing behaviour. Deadpool might be a mercenary, slightly insane and surely not blessed with common sense but he proved himself to be caring and a good listener once you managed to shut him up.
"They're not a trap. You've been reading weird Manga again, haven't you?"
"I'm pretty damn sure that Sailor Moon and Son Goku are banging."
"What?"
"And Light Yagami is gay, can't fool my professional eyes."
"This is getting out of hand, back to the topic!" Peter broke through his companions rambling, forming a Time Out sign with his hands. "What I wanted to tell you, before you interrupted me-"
"Wanna bet, Eren Jaeger is a titan shifter? I've only watched the first episode but that's sooo obvious, even blind Al would notice that. "
"-is that I'm going on a date tomorrow and I'm super nervous right now because I've got no idea how to act or even what to wear in order not to embarrass myself to death."
"..."
"..."
"Wait, what?" Deadpool looked so perfectly dumbfounded even through his mask, Peter wished he had his camera with him. He bit his tongue, trying not to laugh.
"Me. Going on a date. With the not-trap I told you about." He explained like he was talking to a four-year old. "Also me. Going on a date. With no clue, what to wear or to react."
"Oh my gawd, my baby boy is becoming an adult." Deadpool whispered dramatically with his hands on his cheeks, feigning shock. Then he threw his arms around Peter and pulled him into a tight hug, loudly declaring his feelings. "I'm so proud of you! Though I gotta admit I'll be lonely without you around. You gotta promise to patrol with me at least once or twice a week when you're not out and being all loveydovey with your chicksy-chick. Or uncle pool will be crying and maybe kill the wrong guy because my tears will make me blind, because you left me behind to die alone! Uhuuuu... You could also give me some pictures of your lovely bubble-butt so I will survive the cold air when everyone else is celebrating christmas and I'm all alone."
"Deadpool..." Peter wheezed, not getting enough air because he was pressed to DP's board and muscular chest. "Can't. Breathe..."
"Oh sorry, darling." He released the smaller man from his iron like grip, holding him at arm's length and his white eye slits fixated at Peter's face. He cleared his throat, desperately trying to sound serious as he spoke. "I'm happy for you, really really happy. Like seeing heart shaped balloons around you happy. And you should go with black jeans and don't forget to bring some kind of small gift for her, girls like that kind of gentleman-behaviour."
Good thing Peter wore his mask, as he felt a bright red blush appearing on his cheeks that spread up to his ears and down his neck. Wow, that came unexpected. Now he felt a bit guilty for not telling Deadpool that his date clearly was not a girl...
"Thanks, buddie." He said and he meant it, looking at the ground scratching his neck. "It means a lot to me."
"Aww, you cutie-pie, being all ebarrassed now makes me all jealous of the woman which laid her hands on your bubble-butt. But you can rest assured," he slung his arm around Peter's shoulders and pulled him onto his chest while gesturing with his free hand wildly in the cold air. "Old uncle Pool got asked out by some beauty as well!"
He cackled dirty and waited for Peter to catch up on his words.
It took Peter a few seconds to understand what the Merc just said, his brain processing slowly, probably due to the cold. He felt a small sting in his chest, unsure how to interpret the pain, he shoved it to the back of his mind and hastily tried to sound as happy as his friend had sounded for him.
"That's awesome! Wow. Cool, I guess. But, now we will be seeing each other even less..." his voice cracked a bit at the end of his sentence and he slapped himself in his mind for sounding so hurt, even though his friend shared his happy moment with him. "I mean, we could go to a double date, if you'd like to, but that might be a bit difficult without masks and such..." his voice died down, but Deadpool being Deadpool wether he didn't notice or didn't bother, Peter didn't know.
The older man let go of his shoulder an pulled his bright pink Hello Kitty backpack into his lap and started rummaging in its depths while mumbling something incomprehensible more to himself than to Peter, who was still sitting beside him and having an inner fight with this strange feeling that had arisen in his chest.
"Ha!" He shouted, making Peter jump in surprise as he was still deep in thoughts. With a proud grin, visible even through the fabric of his mask, Deadpool held a stuffed unicorn plush into Peter's face. He had to blink a few times into the sparkly white fur, the silver horn and the rainbow coloured short-cropped mane until he got what he was looking at. One could literally see the sparkling that surrounded the merc.
"That's... a unicorn?" Peter tried half-heartedly.
"That's not just a plain unicorn you ignorant pleb!" The older man exclaimed pouting, but Peter knew him way too good to buy his made up outrage. Chuckling he took the plush toy from his friend's hands and petted the white fur.
"It's really cute. I'm sure your date will like it." A small smile appeared on Peter's face and he felt the blush returning to his cheeks. But the stinging pain in his chest killed it within seconds and a deep frown appeared on his face, fortunately hidden beneath his mask. His hands stopped petting the toy and he gave it back to his friend before he could notice Peter's strange behaviour.
"Does it have a name?" He asked to distract Deadpool who had been watching him non-stop.
His eyes lit up beneath the mask and he happily took in the opportunity to continue the conversation. "I knew you'd ask that. I gave her a very very super-duper special name! Only a genius like me could come up with that name!" He made a theatrical move with his arms. "I may now introduce you to her Highness Fluffles Waffles Venom Wilson Her Fluffiness The Second!"
"... did you seriously name her Venom?"
"Yeah that's your ex, right? I like him, we had a thing once and he was pretty cool, though not a thingy-thing, just a thing. Don't think something like that about me, I wouldn't dare to have a thingy-thing with your ex that would be really unethical even for me and you know I have no morals most of the time, so no thingy-thing-thing."
Peter had a hard time deciding what to do. Facepalming himself or punching Deadpool in his goddamn, stupid mouth. Could someone explain to him, why he had been jealous of Deadpools date tomorrow?
Damn, now had thought of that again. By the way, when did his brain decide that nerve wracking feeling in his chest was jealousy?
After a few heartbeats of silence filled with constant staring at each other, a week laugh escaped Peter. He shook his head and slowly got up from the cold stone ground of the rooftop. His ass was deep-frozen by now and slowly but steady he grew tired. It was about 3 in the morning after all.
"You're completely crazy, you know that?" A sigh escaped him as he stood there on the edge, rubbing his cold hands. Deadpool still sat there with the unicorn in his lap and a strange expression of sadness and something else showing on his mask. "Well, I'll be on my way. I guess if everything works out for both of us tomorrow we won't be seeing each other that often from now on." He bent down, grabbing the empty paper bag and coke bottles, shoved them into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
"Yeah, I guess..." The merc agreed. His black gloved hands stroked the plush toy absentmindedly while his eyes were fixated on Peter's slim figure, clearly visible against the dark sky, enlightened by the billions of Christmas lights beneath them. Peter wasn't sure how to interpret the slightly disappointed undertone is his friends normally joyful voice. It hurt to look at him sitting there, the cheesy unicorn in his arms and small clouds of his breathing vanishing in the cold air.
About a minute had passed until Peter broke through the awkward silence that had spread between them. The pain in his chest became stronger with every breath he took. The happy feeling that originally filled his mind about the date tomorrow became dull and dim, like a chain of lights under a heavy snow cover in the night before Christmas.
"Do me the favour and stay the good guy you are, okay?" Peter smiled. There was a melancholic feeling to it.
"I'll try my very hardest, sensei." The older man smiled beneath his mask. "You take care of that beautiful ass of yours. And bang the chick for me!"
"You're a dick-head, DP." Peter laughed and shot a web to the next building.
"I know, web-head." The merc grinned smugly.
And as the first snow flake fell from the dark sky, Peter swung through the skyscraper valleys. The ice cold air filled his lungs, making his toes and fingers numb, yet his chest and cheeks were hot and flustered by the ups and downs of the whirlwind of emotions inside of him.