Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Ugh, ninjas? Really?” Wade said with a groan. “I just came back stateside – I wanted some good ol’ fashioned shootouts.”

Peter kicked at a duo of robed men, avoiding their blades and putting them out of commission before they could get to their target. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Naw, you always pick the best date nights, Webs.”

“You always say that until you get stabbed. Their swords are coated in some kind of toxin,” Peter warned – well, reminded. He and Wade had been enjoying Wade’s first night back by going on a joint patrol through Manhattan. Things hadn’t gotten too crazy, until Peter’s spidey senses rang through his head and brought them to the edge of Hell’s Kitchen. Where, of course, the resident Daredevil had been trying to beat down a drug ring protected by ninjas.

Or some secret immortal clan of fighters called The Hand, but come on, Peter knew ninjas when he saw them.

“I’ll be fine!” There was a clash of metal as Wade’s swords came in contact with another pair.

“Are you sure?” Peter hefted up a barely conscious Matt Murdock. He had a painful looking gash in his side, burning to the touch.

“Yeah, there’s only like… six of them left. Piece of cake. Go save your friend.” Peter frowned – Wade wouldn’t die, but Peter definitely didn’t want to have to stage an emergency extraction because he’d been too weak to get away. On the other hand – Peter knew how bad the Hand’s toxin was. If he didn’t get the cure to Matt soon, he was as good as dead.

“Fine! Don’t get kidnapped.”

“Love you too!”

Peter held Matt close, flying through the various blocks in the neighborhood and going farther south. He had thought of dropping Matt off at his apartment – it was closer – but he also knew the Hand; they tended to trail anyone who got in their way, and Peter didn’t feel like beating off another group of Krav Maga experts while trying to keep Matt from dying. Instead he carried him closer to Greenwich, landing on a stout building and kicking in the access door before barging into the apartment he shared with Wade. He dumped Matt on the couch as gingerly and quickly as he could before rushing over to the kitchen.

“Okay, cure, cure – what was it? Matt?” The other man mumbled something incoherently. “Shit. Uh, okay, okay, think Peter – chemistry 101, easy. What do you do to draw out toxins?” He started opening cabinets, gathering baking soda, vinegar, salt, and running into the bathroom to grab some weird lump of activated charcoal Wade swore by. He mixed everything in with some hot water. “Yeah, okay, that should work… Hope it works.” Rushing over to the couch, Peter turned Matt on his side so he could see the wound more clearly, and he spread the poultice over it.

Immediately, there was a horrible hiss, and Matt yelled out in pain before taking a strained breath and stilling. The apartment was dark, but Peter could see lines of steam from the wound as the toxin combined with the mixture, rendering the once lethal chemical compound harmless.

“Matt?” Peter asked, after a minute.

“…Yeah.” Peter put a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“Thank God. Okay. I’ll get you cleaned up. Stay – stay there.”

“Don’t think I could move,” Matt answered dryly. Peter got Matt out of the blood soaked suit and into some sweatpants. Peter pulled of his mask and gloves and tossed them onto the coffee table, pulling out a well work med kit and getting to work.

“It’s funny,” Peter murmured, as he disinfected a cut on Matt’s cheek. “I can’t remember the last time I had to stitch myself up, and now I have to do it to you.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Nah, it’s like riding a bike, right?” Matt didn’t complain, even as Peter wiped away the black mixture, disinfected it, and started to sew it up. He winced and clenched his fists, but that spoke more to the rawness of the wound than Peter’s nursing skills.

“Have you been lucky lately?” Matt said, voice strained. “If you didn’t need stitches.”

“Lucky? Nah. Wade insists on doing it all for me. I feel kind of bad. Whenever he gets hurt, all he needs is somewhere comfortable to sit and maybe someone to make sure he’s not getting blood all over the carpet. And the walls. And the sheets. You know.” Work done, he packed away the med kit and washed his hands in the kitchen sink. He threw a black zip up hoodie over Matt’s shoulders. The other man didn’t say anything else, and Peter retreated back into his bedroom to hopefully give Matt a chance to rest.

Peter wanted to go out, find Wade, see if he needed help, but he didn’t want to leave. Matt was probably too close to touch-and-go for that. So instead, he kept his eyes on his phone, waiting for Wade to respond to his text, or call back, or just appear in the apartment.

He didn’t even realize he was bouncing his leg until he heard Matt mutter from the living room, “I can’t sleep with you worrying in there.”

“You weren’t going to sleep.” Peter said, leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. “Knowing you, if I left, you’d stumble into your costume and go out looking for trouble all over again.” Matt smiled at him.

“Like you’d do any different?”

“Hey – I have super healing. You just have some weird… mindfulness meditation technique, or something. Which you could try to do now, you know.”

“Can’t focus. Your anxiety is through the roof.” Matt closed his eyes. “Deadpool is still unkillable, isn’t he?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then he’ll be fine.”

“’Fine’ can be very vague when it comes to Deadpool,” Peter managed. Matt just snorted.

“Yeah, don’t I know it. Can’t believe Deadpool saved my life.”

Peter smiled. “He’s been known to do that once or twice.”

“At least this time he managed doing it before one of these swords slashed my throat. I swear, between him never shutting up and you never shutting up, and the two of you together – I’m pretty much fighting deaf and blind.”

“So no team red teamups any time soon?” Peter ventured. Matt just sighed, eyes trained on the ceiling.

“Peter,” he said quietly. Matt tended not to use Peter’s real name unless they were meeting as civilians, or if it was something serious. “Peter, do you really think – how do you know Deadpool is stopping the Hand? He just came back from overseas.”

“Yeah, he was on a job.”

“For who?”

Peter shrugged a shoulder. “SHIELD, I think?”

“You don’t know?”

“He goes on a lot of jobs. But I know he’s not working for the Hand. Why would he have let me save you if he was?” Not to mention all the other reasons.

“Distraction, gaining your trust. I was too out of it – I couldn’t hear his heartbeat, but –”

“Matt, Wade does not need to do anything to ‘gain my trust.’ Wade’s clever when he wants to be, but he’s also impatient, can’t do things for the long haul.” Matt nodded. “So even if he was secretly evil and not just, you know, a reformed anti-hero, pretty sure I’d know.”

“How? How would you know?”

Peter was going to respond, until he felt a slight prickling in the back of his neck. Matt stilled, too, tilting his head to one side. “He’s here,” Matt said, just as a knock sounded at the front door.

“Here. I’ll tell Wade not to get a good look at you, he’s good about that.” Peter reached behind Matt and tugged the hood of the jacket low over his eyes.

Peter pulled open the door and knew he was grinning, ear to ear, even before Wade swept him up in a hug. Their chests pressed together, and Peter could feel both their hearts racing; not from the adrenaline or being in a fight, not even from the relief of seeing the other unharmed – he was just so happy Wade was back home again.

Peter reluctantly pulled away, feeling tacky blood stick to his hands when he pressed along Wade’s side. “Didn’t make it home in once piece, did you?”

“Okay, so the poison swords? Those really do hurt.” Peter sighed, but his smile didn’t disappear. “I think I got most of them. Left them out for the cops to apprehend. Assuming they don’t find a way to commit seppuku with their karate belts or something, we should be good to go. How’s our favorite horny boy?”

Peter wrinkled his nose, leading Wade back into the living room. “Don’t call him that. And he’s fine, right, buddy?” Matt raised a weak hand in the air. “He’s gonna crash here tonight, I think.”

“Team Red sleepover? I’m down.”

“You’re covered in blood and the remnants of some stupidly lethal toxin. Go take a shower.” He elbowed Wade in that direction and the other man left easily enough. “I’ll tell him to keep to the bedroom once he gets out,” Wade had always been good about not seeking out a super’s secret identity, but it was still a sensitive topic for someone like Daredevil. Just because Peter Parker and Matt Murdock could hang out in or out of the suits didn’t mean the vigilante would appreciate his alter ego getting spread around to anyone else, Peter’s S.O. or not.

“Alright,” Peter said, sitting on the coffee table. “What were we talking about?” Matt tugged the hood back and faced Peter’s direction. His eyebrows raised slightly like he had just heard a particularly interesting tidbit.

“Nothing. We were just…” Matt hesitated. “I apologize. Maybe I was too quick to judge.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. Apology? For what? Getting stabbed? Matt did have a guilt complex about as deep as the Marianas Trench. “Uh, don’t be? It’s fine, really. The important thing is that those members of the Hand won’t be able to hurt anyone else tonight.”

Matt nodded. “You’re a good man, Peter. And I guess Deadpool, too.”

“I’ll tell him. I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of it. I’m gonna do a scope of the neighborhood to make sure we didn’t track anything in. Do you want anything? Food, medicine?” Matt shook his head, and Peter tugged his mask and gloves back on before leaping out of the living room window, doing a perimeter check.

There were no murderous ninjas around, so far as Peter and his spidey senses could tell, and with that done, he swung back home. Matt had fallen asleep, or was doing a convincing job pretending he was asleep, so Peter crept into the bedroom, shutting the door.  Wade was kneeling by the closet, an overstuffed suitcase on the floor in front of him.

"Well,” Peter said with a sigh, stretching his arms above his head. “Not exactly the reunion I was hoping for.” He peeled off his suit and tugged on some pajamas. “I’d say that we shouldn’t have gone out, but –”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Wade interrupted. “You had a friend to help, I had ninjas to fight – again. And now,” he said, getting up and nearly skipping over to Peter, “we have freshly imported sake to drink, like forty different flavors of Kit-Kats to try, and some Netflix to chill to.” Wade deposited about ten pounds of candy on the bedspread, alongside some glass bottles before settling on his side of the mattress and flicking on the TV that was set up on their dresser.

“Chill as in relax. Matt can probably hear this entire apartment building.”

“But that’s part of the long game! Team Red can be more than just combo attacking bad guys, you know?” Peter snorted, jumping into bed next to Wade and grabbing a fistful of candy.

“Yeah, no. I think the Catholic guilt would make him explode.”

“Worth a shot,” Wade said, pressing close to Peter’s side as they settled in. Peter pressed back.

“Hey,” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Peter said, finding himself grinning again. It was funny – he swore his heart never stopped fluttering on nights like these, when Wade was back and they were catching up, whatever time passed while they were apart becoming insignificant in a matter of minutes. He was sure tomorrow Matt was gonna tease him for it; to a man like Daredevil, Peter’s love for Wade wasn’t just written all over his face.

“So am I,” Wade murmured, pulling Peter in for a kiss. “Can we watch Planet Earth first?” Peter laughed, leaned back, and told Wade to knock himself out.

Chapter Text

“Come on, Wade,” Peter groused, trying to adjust his grip on the other man without shifting so much that he dropped him. Usually when Wade wanted to hitch a ride with him, he ended up talking too loudly, way too close to his ear. It was enough to balance the line of conversation Wade was keeping up as well as dodging any birds or banners or cars when he swung low enough, and God help him if they were trying to get some distance from a villain, too.

Luckily, they had already gotten rid of the main threat – evil wizard, of course. Not before the robed man managed to zap Wade with something that was making him a lot more difficult to deal with than usual.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” Wade said. He wasn’t overly loud – practically murmuring in Peter’s ear. His voice was already low, rough and a little broken sounding from the scar tissue on his vocal cords. “The wind, the speed, flying up and dropping down – being next to you the whole time. It’s my favorite way to travel, you know?”

“Beats taking the subway,” Peter managed. Wade sighed, his hand tightening along Peter’s waist.

“I’m not afraid of heights, but if I was with anyone else, I think I might hate this,” Wade admitted. He was doing a lot of that recently. Peter wanted to put his money on a truth serum, but he wasn’t versed in magic, which was why they were making their way towards Bleecker Street. “But I know you wouldn’t let me fall.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Peter responded, immediately.

“A lot of other people don’t think much about it. I’d come back from that.”

Peter grimaced. “Yes, but it hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. A lot.”

“I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you.”

“I know. I’ve known that for years.” Wade said as Peter swung in a wide arc, taking them down the aforementioned street before getting safely to the ground.

“Alright, we’re here. I think Doctor Strange is home. I hope he’s home.”

“That guy doesn’t like me,” Wade commented immediately. No joke or pop culture reference, just his unfettered thoughts. “Then again, most people don’t like –"

“Strange is about as prickly as a cactus, Wade. Don’t take it personally,” Peter said, cutting Wade off before his self-deprecation could turn into a tangent.

“But he’ll see you because you’re – well. Amazing, superior, fantastical, unbelievable –” Wade ticked off his fingers. “What other adjectives can I do?” Peter snorted, smiling under his mask.

“Nah, he just owes me.” Dragging Wade up the steps to the Sanctum Sanctorum, Peter knocked on the door. “Strange! It’s me! Uh, Spider-man. And Deadpool. Deadpool needs help. Some sort of –” The door creaked open into the dim foyer of the estate. Peter adjusted his grip on Wade and marched through – only to nearly fall over each other as they were transported into a study Strange was occupying. He looked up from one of his ancient tomes as though he hadn’t expected them to be there.

“I hate when you do that,” Peter managed, before dropping Wade into a chair.

“Who needs to walk?” Strange said, wearing an expression close to a self-satisfied smirk.

“Yeah Webs, this is a guy who wears yellow rubber gloves as a part of his outfit,” Wade said from his spot, “he needs to show everyone how impressive he is to compensate for the fashion disaster.”

Strange looked over at Wade with a raised eyebrow. “Uh. Yeah – evil wizard. Truth serum. So.” Peter gestured at Wade.

“I see.” Strange glanced over at his books. “I don’t have what I need here. One moment.” He drew an orange portal on the wall and stepped through. The portal closed, and they were alone. Peter sank into the seat next to Wade. The Sanctum looked far older than the actual date on the building – like they had stepped into an old monastery, or an ancient palace. The rafters were high, and Peter felt like his surroundings should be coated in a layer of dust, though everything was, in fact, clean.

“Hmph, thinks he’s all important. ‘Look at me, I played Sherlock Holmes and I’m one of the six actors the BBC knows.’” Wade said. “Tell him capes are old school, Peter.”

“Wade, Strange is going to help you,” he said, “Also I have no idea how any of that relates to Strange. Like, at all.”

“Yeah. Right. This is fine – by which I mean things are not fine. I’m really uncomfortable right now and I’d like to go home. I mean, maybe this just wears off on its own, you know?”

Peter frowned. “Is – do you and Strange have some sort of history?” Peter would feel awful if he dragged Wade to a location of some old rival.

“No, it’s just – I’m telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth right now! I’m being honest with my feelings around other people. It’s like my worst nightmare, next to something bad happening to you.” Peter could see Wade's eyes widen beneath his mask. "Wait. What if Strange asks me who you are? And your weaknesses and - I can't do that to you! Oh God. You shouldn't have brought me here."

"He's' not going to do that, Wade."

"How do you know? You know how much heroes love contingency plans. He is so the type to plan how to beat other heroes in case of some cataclysmic event. Or what if he turns evil, huh, Webs? That happens. He could even -"

Wade was spiraling. Peter looked around the room, but Strange had yet to reappear, and Peter couldn’t sense anyone else around. He slipped off his mask. “Wade, look at me. Breathe. You're okay. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Wade turned to look at him head on, and let out a breath of air. “Okay, this makes things a little better.”

“Good.” Wade was still staring at him.

“Pretty sure I could stare at your face all day and not get bored.” Peter fought down a blush. “Do you know my favorite thing about you might be your mouth?”

And fighting down the blush decidedly failed right then. “Wade,” he said warningly. The other man wasn’t good about hiding his attraction and R-rated plans for Peter in the best of times, so he didn’t know what Wade would start talking about now.

He wasn’t expecting Wade to tentatively reach for his hand. “When we first met, and I was still kind of fighting you when our paths crossed – you’re a crazy skilled fighter, Webs. Like, really. You’re fucking fast. And strong, and smart, and – I knew you were a really super superhero, but you were just in a costume for so long, I kind of thought of you as something even more than that." He linked their fingers together. "The first time we actually hung out long enough that we got food and I saw you roll up your mask – you were just a man under there. And it was the most skin I saw for a long time… so I guess it became my favorite.”

“Oh.” Peter blinked. That had not been what he was expecting. “Thanks.”

“I mean I like all of you. Head to toe. Really. Your hair, your eyes, even your knees! I mean I guess there are weird habits and stuff but I guess when you love someone it doesn’t really matter that much. You know I love you, right?” Wade said abruptly, running his thumbs along Peter’s wrist, staring down at where they were touching. “I mean, yeah, you know. I’m obvious, right? Like, clingy, obnoxious – you've known that for years.”

“You don’t have to apologize for loving me, you idiot.” Peter said, unable to disguise the fondness in his voice even if he wanted to. He reached over with his free hand and dug through one of Wade’s pouches, pulling out a magnet. It was stupid – one of their first dates as their civilian identities instead of hanging out on a rooftop after a mission. Wade had wanted to bring Peter to a science exhibition where they were doing a live demonstration of some new transportation technology.

Of course, as soon as the test went live a bunch of AIM assassins had broken in, trying to steal the tech for their shady organization. Wade had covered for the two of them while Peter got into the spidey suit, and the evening ended with them getting thrown around before ultimately defeating the bad guys – and getting banned from the museum themselves for property damage. Peter had picked up a magnet that was stuck to Wade’s charged katanas and told him to keep it as a reminder of why they weren’t going to be doing normal dates again. And Wade… Wade had kept it. Even in those first rocky months where Peter didn't know how he felt about Wade, the two of them trying to figure out if they could even work as a romantic item, and all the big and little fights they had since then… he kept it. Peter knew he took it with him on every mission ever, knew what pouch he kept it in, too.

He pressed the gaudy little magnet into Wade’s palm now. “I love you, too.” Wade tentatively closed his fingers around the magnet and nodded. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

“I won’t. I mean who knows what sort of weird memory shit is gonna happen to us – don’t make any deals with the devil to erase our marriage and stuff, you know.”

“Make deals with – to what?”

Wade shook his head. Just then Dr. Strange reemerged from the portal, delicately flipping through an ancient looking text. He was behind the pair of them, so Peter had time to slip his mask back on before Strange could see his face. Wade surreptitiously slipped the magnet back into a pouch - truth serum or no, it was their shared memory, no one else's. 

“I believe I’ve found the right spell to counteract this.” Strange’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Deadpool, if you’ll follow me.”

“Aw, Spidey can’t come too? He makes me feel safe.” Wade’s cheerful tone was belied by the way he squeezed Peter’s hand.

“It will take but a moment. And I’m not here to hurt you.”

Wade giggled, a little frantically. “Yeah, I know – kind of. But I mean, the list of people who have hurt me is pretty long. Friends, family, coworkers. Uh. Pretty much every super ever? I mean, even Spidey, but that was ages ago, before I got my head on straight. These days we just fight over what sort of takeout we’re gonna eat,” he babbled. “Wait, you used to be a doctor, right? Actually, don’t answer that. That doesn’t make me feel better. You ever heard of Weapon X? Pretty sure that had some doctors in there, too. And I mean, look what they did to me!” Strange glanced at Peter, who just shrugged helplessly and stood up.

“Come on, we can go together. I’ll hang back and watch the whole thing.”

“And protect me with your bulging muscles, right?”

“Yes, Wade.”

“I mean it’s like – I told you that is a major thing for me, right? You’re as strong as the Juggernaut. You could literally rip me in half.”

“I’m not gonna rip you in half.”

“But you could! And you’re so… nice. And gentle. And you and I get along so well and I trust you with everything and –” Strange coughed.

“Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly. “Truth serums, right?”

“Right. Both of you, then. Follow me.” Strange said that, although they barely took two steps before they were in another room that was laden with a mix of herbs and beakers, looking half between a fairy tale witch’s room and a science lab. Strange dumped a few things together into a thick sludge before saying a particular incantation. The dark liquid turned orange as it was imbued with magic, before fizzling out. He passed it over to Wade. 

“This won’t kill me, right?” Wade said, lifting up the bottom part of his mask to expose his mouth. “I mean, you know, it doesn’t matter. But Spidey here doesn’t like seeing me die whether or not I get back up, so.”

“No, it won’t kill you. The spell was imbued into your being, not just layered on top. So you’ll have to flush it out with that.” Strange nodded at the drink. 

Peter squeezed the man's hand one last time before letting go and taking a step back. With magic, you never knew what the splash radius would be. “You can do it, Wade,” he encouraged.

“Right. Yeah. If you think I can do it then I can definitely do it. Or I’ll make myself be able to do it, because I think I’d rather die for real than actually disappoint you, you know? I mean there’s second chances, and then there’s like, your twentieth chance which is what I’m on with you, I feel like, and – fuck this is embarrassing. Bottoms up!” Wade downed the drink, wincing at the taste.

Nothing happened.

“Do you feel different?” Peter asked.

“Uh… I think I do. I feel… um.” Wade pulled a face. “Like when we went to that shady falafel stand on 65^th.” He passed the glass to Peter, gagging and running from the room. Strange created a new portal and pushed it so it followed Wade, swallowing him up and making him disappear.

“Where did you send him?” Peter asked, handing Strange the container.

“Bathroom, second floor. That spell was a nasty piece of work. He’ll be throwing up everything for the next couple of minutes.”

“Gross. Remind me not to get into fights with any magic users, ever.”

“I say that to myself every time I fight one. Somehow they still keep showing up.” Strange inclined his head and the pair were back in the study from a minute prior. Peter sat down on one of the chairs.

“Thanks for that,” he managed. “Wade talks nonstop, but he hates people knowing how he really feels.”

“He did say it was embarrassing after waxing poetic about impressing you,” Strange noted, sitting across from the younger hero. Peter smiled to himself.

“Yeah. That was mostly what he did while you were gone.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Went full rom-com confessional on me.” Peter was honestly glad that was all it had been. Wade had a lot of nasty history he could dig up, things even Peter didn’t know about, he was sure. He wouldn’t want to learn things about Wade against his will like that. It was why he had taken off his mask when he felt Wade was going down a rabbit hole of his fears and worries – Peter usually ended up being a good enough distraction if Wade needed to take a step back from the precipice.

Strange fixed him with a serious look. “Spider-man,” the other began, “I know Wade is under this spell to tell the truth, but that doesn’t mean you should feel compelled to respond to his advances.”

“Uh… okay?” He blinked, and Strange’s expression softened somewhat.

“What I mean is, no one would blame you for turning a man of his… character… away. You shouldn’t feel indebted to him.”

Peter tried to parse Strange's words. “...Pity him, you mean.”

“In a sense.”

“Oh. Well, you don’t have to worry about that. Trust me. It’s all water under the bridge. I know how to handle him,” Peter said, waving his hand. Wade's confessions had embarrassed him, back when they first met. It wasn't until later he realized Wade had meant everything he said, and had been earnest about impressing Peter and wanting to be with him. Now they just reaffirmed what he already knew.

“You mean you knew of Wade’s feelings for you?”

“Oh sure, he makes that obvious.” He was actually happy that Wade did make it obvious. Peter wasn’t a stranger to self-deprecation, either. He didn’t mind getting reminded of where he stood in the other man’s life.

“And… you don’t mind?”

“I think if I minded I wouldn’t be with him. I certainly wouldn’t want to hang around with him while he was on a truth serum.” 

Strange hummed thoughtfully. “You’re a noble person – I assumed you may have forced yourself to shoulder the burden to help someone who needed it.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess. But really. It doesn’t bother me. I mean some of it can get sappy, but I’m used to it all by now. Really. Truth serum or no, I’ve heard it all. This won’t change anything between us.” Strange furrowed his brow for a moment before nodding, and leaning back in his chair.

“That’s good to hear, then.”

Somewhere below them, there was a crash, followed by footsteps, and a, “I can pay for that!” Strange sighed.

“I think that’s a sign you can take your leave,” he said. Peter was halfway to standing when he found himself in the foyer of the manor, Wade swaying on his feet.

“Hey, watch it! I think I threw up a lung back there.” Wade grimaced again.

“Let me know if there are any complications,” Strange said. “Though there won’t be.”

“Thanks again,” Peter said. Wade saluted the good doctor, and they were out on the street again, the door of the Sanctum slamming shut behind them. “Alright. Do you think it worked?" Peter asked as they started walking down the stoop.

"Uh, yeah. I think?"

"Lie about something.”

“Uh…” Wade thought for a minute. “I hate you. You’re just the worst, you’re not funny, you have a flat ass, and marrying you is my biggest regret.” He paused. “Yeah, I'm cured.”

“Really, you sure?” Peter said dryly. “Anything else you wanna confess? Secret habits that annoy you? Are you having an affair with an old mercenary buddy, maybe?” They both laughed, continuing their walk.

“I didn’t do anything too embarrassing, right?” Wade asked, sheepishly.

“Nah, it was all really sweet. I think all the frank talk about feelings made Strange uncomfortable. That’s why he kicked us out,” Peter teased.

“He couldn’t handle it.” Wade boasted, and Peter smiled, and opening his arm. Wade immediately pressed himself into his side, holding on as Peter shot a web and propelled them up, past the townhouses and further into the business district, going higher and higher as they went.

There wasn’t anything to say – just the sun hitting their bodies as they moved through the air, wind feeling like a pleasant breeze with their suits acting as a protective barrier, and the whole of Manhattan opening up beneath them. It really was an amazing sight. Peter tilted his head towards Wade and whispered his name to catch his attention.

“Hm? What is it?”

 “I know I didn't get hit with a truth serum, but I hope you know that I love you, too.” Wade's hand tightened on Peter's waist.

"Yeah. I know." 

Chapter Text

“Stop staring at me like that!”

“I’m not staring,” Peter groused.

“Yes you are!”

“I’m wearing a mask, you don’t know where I’m looking.”

“You’re looking at me because you’re pissed off. At me.” Wade said, the pair of them walking through the rubble caused by New York’s most recent run-in with an extraterrestrial life form.

“Wow, you’re telling me your higher cognitive functions are working now, huh?”

“They were working the whole time. The aliens are dead, and my plan worked!” They gathered around the informal debriefing that was being held by Captain America himself. Some of the Avengers and a few other, non-affiliated supers were in the area, covered in dust, sweat, and blood. Typical fare for an alien invasion, but from the glances thrown towards the advancing pair, they all knew what Spider-man’s criticisms of Deadpool were about.

Good ol’ Cap had rounded the troops when the first space craft landed on top of a Hilton and troops began pouring out. The amount of superheroes in the city had swelled since the Chitauri invasion years ago, and their technology and priorities had shifted, too. A lot of civilians loved supers still, of course, but the ire around the massive amounts of public damage grew with every super villain and otherworldly threat. The main response of any invasion these days was to destroy or subdue the invading fleet with as little damage to the city as possible. New York was already stupid expensive to live in without getting into the cost of rebuilding infrastructure every three months.

Things had been going well, at first. Peter had been getting the remaining civilians out of harm’s way and capturing the invaders with his webs. Wade was closer to ground zero, and since Cap had allowed lethal force, Wade had been all too happy to find out exactly how to kill beings that looked like a weird, bionic lovechild of a kangaroo and a komodo dragon.

Peter couldn’t help but feel proud. Wade had been instated as something like an intern for the Avengers – he did his own thing until bigger threats or missions that could use his expertise came up. And this was the first large-scale, all hands on deck disaster that he had been involved in. Even though they hadn’t been fighting side-by-side, Peter would occasionally end up in Wade’s path and see how serious and efficient the other man was being – making sure the aliens were put down before they could destroy a building or fire into the fleeing crowds.

But then… “The Captain said not to engage with their leader!” Peter said, a few notches away from yelling. “You totally engaged with their leader!”

“Yeah, but that was because –”

“Deadpool,” the Captain interrupted, now that they were close enough. The man was similarly dust-coated and exhausted. Peter had seen him and Iron Man struggle to hold up the edge of a collapsed wall while the last few civilians ran out from under it. Which wouldn’t have happened if Wade had listened to the man. “Let’s go over what happened today, shall we?”

Peter glanced up. Iron Man was still flying overhead, and Hawkeye hadn’t come down from his perch to join the party, but Peter felt like this was going to be more of a one-on-one conversation anyway.

“Uh…” Wade threw another look at Peter, who answered it with a glare. “Sure. Okay.”

“Do you remember what I told you to do as a part of the team’s attack strategy?”

“Kill low ranking grunts without hurting any pedestrians and trying my very best to make the roads not worse than New Jerseys?”

Rogers pursed his lips for a moment. “Right. Close enough. And what did you do?”

“Besides being a self-sacrificing idiot,” Peter muttered, crossing his arms.

“Well – okay, first of all, I can’t die, so don’t bring that up.”

“Okay, we know that you can die provided there are certain extenuating circumstances,” Peter argued, unable to reel himself in.

“Which there weren’t today.”

“You don’t know that, they’re aliens! That’s a top tier form of extenuating circumstance.”

“Yeah but these aliens were –”

“Spider-man. Deadpool.” Cap stared at them both before nodding at Wade.

“Alright, Sorry. So look, Cap. I know you said you needed to speak to the leader when you finally managed to get him to beam down from that ship, right? Because you know, ‘take me to your leader’ is definitely not a shtick by now –”

“You had an order, Deadpool. We gave you and every hero here orders to keep everyone safe.” Peter had to admire Cap’s restraint. He could feel his own energy pulsing just under the surface. They had been doing so well, and then Wade went and did – that.

“Yes, I understand that,” Wade said, words coming out slowly as he shifted from one side to another.

“Do you? Do you understand the gravity of this situation? We knew the creatures were violent, but we didn’t know anything beyond that – and now we have no idea if there was something in particular they were after, or if they’ll be sending reinforcements. And not only that,” the Captain continued, “but that creature had somehow been mentally linked to the ship, and you shooting him caused a system failure that crashed the spacecraft overhead and nearly destroyed four city blocks as a result. Who knows how much it will be to repair all of this. Iron Man is still doing scans of the area to see if there are civilians trapped inside those buildings, or injured, or dead."

Wade winced. “Yeah, but – I did it for a reason.”

“But was it a sound reason?” Cap pressed. “Or did you just go with a gut instinct? That’s fine for knee-jerk decisions, sometimes, but we don’t plan battle strategies for fun. If we go with a hunch for everything our entire lives, we’re operating as glorified animals.”

“…Spider-man operates on instincts,” Wade said, giving him another sidelong glance.

“Wade. I swear to God. Why did you – I mean what possessed you to –” Peter felt the words get stuck in his throat.

“This!” Wade pulled something out of his pocket and threw it towards Peter, who caught it easily. It looked to be a small, metallic cube. “These assholes are called Kurvos, by the way. Put that in your Hitchhiker’s Guide and thank me later. Or don’t. No one ever does.” Wade stalked off, surprisingly ignoring the Captain’s shouts. Peter’s hand closed tight around the cube as he watched his better half leave the way he had come.

“Wade…” He murmured, though the other man didn’t hear him. Peter glanced down at the cube again. He hadn’t seen it before – nor anything like it on the other grunts, but it was clearly a piece of alien tech. He showed it to the Captain.

“The leader was holding that before Wade killed him,” the other man said, taking the cube from Peter and examining it.

“Do you think Stark can crack this?”

“Sure. Might be a clue.”

“Clue or a homing beacon,” Tony said, having probably heard the whole exchange through the comms. “Finished my scans, but the first responders are already helping out the stragglers. Give it here.” Cap tossed it up, and Stark caught it, gauntlet closing protectively around the object. “Meet you in the Tower.” And with that he flew off.

Peter sucked on his teeth, watching the red and gold figure fly away. His first reaction was to web towards the Tower, meet Stark and help him decrypt what they had found, but he couldn’t push down the discomfort at leaving Wade.

Even if the other man had stormed off, even if he had just racked up about a billion dollars in property damage for one dumbass move with no known motive… Well.

Maybe this was the relationship talking – the ingrained need you had to want to excuse your partner’s actions because you wanted to believe they were a good person. But even if the other Avengers didn’t realize it, Wade had a knack for finding the needle in the haystack, so to speak. Whether that be weapons, information, people, authentic ethnic restaurants in Brooklyn, anything the man deemed important usually ended up panning out. Everyone else would probably dub that a ‘difficultly following directions from others when he had a personal ‘hunch’’, though.

Peter was upset about Wade not listening to Captain freaking America, of all people, but he also had the sneaking suspicion that this cube might prove Wade right. Maybe.

He was also a self-sacrificing idiot who shouldn’t run away from his problems.

Peter sighed.

“It’s alright, Spider-man,” the Captain said, hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, I know. It’s just –” Peter gestured towards where Wade had left. He didn’t know how to tell the other super that he had a feeling Wade might be right.

“You aren’t Deadpool’s keeper.” Peter turned – that was decided not a Captain America voice. No, that was a kind, understanding Steve Rogers sort of inflection. The other man continued. “I appreciate all you do at keeping him in line, but he’s his own person who can make his own choices. And mistakes.”

Peter bit his lip and ducked his head. “Yeah, he’s whipped, alright. But you’re right – we both need to cool off. I’ll talk to him later.”

“You’re very dedicated to him,” Steve noted. He was looking at Peter with an expression he couldn’t quite place.

“… I mean. It’s the same way for him, you know. Even if he shows it, uh. Differently.”

Steve clapped him on the back and started walking. Peter found himself trailing at his side. “You work well with others, even people that are challenging at times. I think you’d make a good member of the Avengers, you know.”

“I know, you’ve said it before.”

Steve shrugged. “Worth saying again.” Peter didn’t have the heart to tell the man that he was wrong – Peter had never been the best at being a team player. He was moody, had a propensity for being righteous, and picking at issues and crimes and people that really ought to be left alone.

Sounded familiar didn’t it?

Ironically, he and Wade were married, and in the first several years of them knowing each other, Peter had hate working with the guy, their temporary partnerships ending in fights more often than not.

Nowadays, though, Peter had to fight the urge to glance over his shoulder, hoping and fearing in the same breath that Wade would see him walking off with other heroes and give Wade the unfounded notion that he preferred them over Wade himself.

“No offense, Cap, but Wade and I teaming up is more than enough for me.” Steve glanced over his shoulder and Peter swore he saw the man rolling his eyes.

“I can imagine.”

Steve was trying to shoot for camaraderie, Peter guessed, but really, it just made him feel worse.

-

Peter wasn’t a fan of doing lab work while still in his suit, but he still had the whole secret identity thing going for him, so he was stuck. He couldn’t help but wonder, of course, how many heroes knew who he was outside of the costume. They knew Deadpool’s legal name, so it really would have been as simple as finding any marriage certificates with ‘Wade Winston Wilson’ as one of the registered names. Maybe they didn’t say anything out of respect, or maybe some of them were nice enough to not look it up. Either way, he kept his suit on.

“Deadpool called this race the Kurvos, didn’t he?” Tony said, a large holographic model spanning the workshop. Thor, Bruce, Natasha, Steve, and Peter were looking up at a 3D rendering of the cube. “Looked them up while I was waiting for you all to get here, and seriously, Spider-man, did you run out of web fluid or something? I was expecting you here thirty seconds after me.”

“…I was talking to Steve?” Peter managed, jutting a thumb to the man in question. Tony huffed.

“Fine. No alien tech hacking for you, then. Already did it.” He spread his hands and the rendering of the cube ‘opened’, so to speak. “And you guys are not going to like what’s inside.”

“No?” Steve said, eyes flicking over the specs with a frown.

“The actual race of aliens we fought today aren’t the Kurvos at all – they’re a more primitive species that don’t have a name, so far as we know from the data, here. I’m sure they named themselves, but history’s written by the victors and all that. And in this case, that’s the Kurvos. According to Elle Woods over there,” Tony nodded at Thor, who grinned back, “they operate as a hive mind, remotely, and they developed these.” A section of shifting mass inside the cube was highlighted and enlarged.

“Nanites?” Peter suggested. Tony snapped his fingers at him.

“Got it in one. They’re different than what I use. More bio than mechanically focused, but they’re self-sufficient, and their ability to multiply is honestly insane.”

“Okay?” Natasha said, raising her eyebrows. “So do they turn into more soldiers or weapons, or –”

“It turns us into weapons for the Kurvo,” Thor spoke up, face shifting into a grim expression. "I had merely heard of them before, but their technology is unique."

“We took one of the aliens back with us to examine it," Bruce added, "and their brains are – well, we don’t know what an original one looks like, exactly, but we could see a heavy presence of these nanites throughout their body, and concentrated heavily in the brain itself.”

“The ‘leader’ so to speak was meant to interact with us, and most likely shatter this cube with their weapons, which were of Kurvo origin,” Tony continued, “after that, it would only be a matter of time before the nanites would enter us, and our brains and we’d be... what’s the word, here. Assimilated? Brainwashed? Turned into meat puppets?” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be good, is what I’m saying.”

“What about the ship, then?” Peter asked, “and if these aliens have these nanites in their bodies already, isn’t that a risk?”

“The nanites are powered remotely, too, probably so that orders can be sent down to the troops,” Tony theorized. “The aliens and the ship are all controlled by the nanites, and when the Kurvo mothership or mother planet or mother – whatever – saw that the leader had fallen, the nanites intercepted – they shut everything down.”

“An automatic kill switch,” Steve said, his voice going serious again. Tony nodded.

“Without a power source, they’re just back to being a run of the mill, Alien Invasion 101.” Everyone still stared at the cube warily.

“So what you’re saying is… if Deadpool hadn’t broken protocol…” Peter started.

“We’d all be in the middle of an Invasion of the Body Snatchers reboot, yeah,” Tony finished. “I need to put in a call to our other favorite Captain, see if she knows something about this race. Her or the Guardians, but between the two of them knowing what’s going on, I’ll hedge my bets with Carol. I’m hoping the defeat today meant the Kurvos aren’t gonna waste resources on us any time soon, but who knows.” With that, Tony and Bruce started conversing amongst each other.

Natasha spared Steve and Peter a glance as she started to make her way to the exit. “Yet another alien threat for SHIELD to worry about,” she said, her face carefully neutral.

Steve didn’t quite manage the same poker face. Who knew how bad Peter looked – he could just imagine how pale he was under the mask. He had to consciously force his mouth to stop gaping.

“I don’t know how Wade knew about those guys,” he said quietly. The man did have a few off-planet contacts for weird weapons, so it was probably that. “He must not have realized what they were until it was too late to tell any of us.”

"Aye, even I was fooled. It is rare for me to say it, but we should be thanking that man." Thor and Steve shared a grave look, and Steve nodded a moment later.

"You're right," Peter said. "I – I need to go find him.”

“Aw, leaving so soon?” Tony said, glancing back at him. He gestured at the rendering of the cube, nanites still floating around in the harmless projection. “You only play mad scientist with us when the world’s ending.”

“And we’re very glad that the world isn’t ending yet,” Steve said pointedly. Tony held his hands up, and Steve looked back at Peter. “Spider-man, when you find Deadpool, tell him… tell him he made the right call. His spot on the team isn’t in jeopardy. And –” Steve seemed to be thinking of the words, or how to force them out, “we are... grateful for him finding that out before things got a lot worse than property damage.”

“Did I just hear Captain America apologize?” Tony muttered to Bruce. “Pinch me, I’m dreaming – ow!”

“Sorry,” Bruce said, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

Steve studiously ignored the both of them, and Peter nodded at the man. “Can do,” he said. He didn’t have the heart to offer a closing quip, or even a lazy salute to the Captain, because the next second he was in a full-on sprint, leaving the building through the first open window and webbing his way back to their apartment, hoping Wade would be there when he arrived.

-

“Wade, you home?” Peter asked, edging the door open. He had to collect his backpack before going home, and decided to change and stop by that one churro stand by Barnard that they had been meaning to try and kept forgetting. “I brought food, and apologies.”

“Food first,” Wade said, as Peter walked into the living room. Wade was out of his costume, smelling like soap and the laundry detergent from the fresh set of clothes he was wearing. Peter handed him the grease marked bag, not holding back the small smile that formed when Wade opened it up and oohed over its contents.

Wade settled back on their couch and uncapped some chocolate sauce, dipping the churro in and taking a relishing bite. “These are so good. Is this that new place?”

“Yeah. Figured it was, you know – the least I could do for you after you saved the world.” Wade looked up at him.

“Is this the apology part?” he asked, still working on the churro.

“We – well, Tony and Bruce analyzed the cube, realized what was inside it, what would have happened if it got smashed open,” he said. He had dug his ring out of his backpack along with his street clothes, and couldn’t help but twist the gold band on his finger nervously. “Steve told me to apologize on his behalf, and for the rest of the Avengers, too. He’s glad you caused some property damage.” Peter took a breath, and leaned forward, putting his hand on Wade’s knee. “And I’m sorry, too. I know I’ve broken protocol and ignored Steve, Tony, and any other hero I’ve ever worked with if I thought for even one second I was right. I should’ve had your back, I should’ve known you had some sort of reason for doing what you did before you even pulled out that cube.” He was about to pull back when Wade snorted, reached forward, and pulled Peter over, making him have to readjust his balance until he was nestled up against Wade’s side.

“It’s fine, really. I guess I didn’t exactly explain my plan to everyone before going through with it – it was a split second thing. I only realized they were being controlled by the Kurvos because I saw that cube their leader was holding.”

“You did see it before then? Saw what they could do?”

“Yeah, got one of those sicced on me last time I had a great big space adventure.” Peter stared at him, eyes wide. “Hey, I was okay – it was like dealing with a regular ol’ telepath. I was under for a few minutes, till the brain tumors started getting too big and my healing factor had to destroy them. The nanotechnology kept getting shuffled around or absorbed by my cells and I broke out. But I knew to stay out of that part of the galaxy after that.”

“I don’t know how to feel about that,” Peter said carefully, forcing himself to relax against Wade’s side. If he had a mental breakdown over any time Wade went into a weird situation that would have killed literally anyone else, he wouldn’t even be able to function anymore.

“Feel happy that we’re all fine – minus property damage – and split these churros with me,” Wade said, putting the bag in Peter’s lap.

“Alright. I can do that.” He took one out and – “Oh, these are stupid good. Why have we not had these until now?”

“Right? I was totally going to make you grovel for my forgiveness, but these are too delicious, my pride just couldn’t stand up to authentic Mexican pastries.” Peter snorted.

“I’m still sorry, you know,” he said, once the churros were all gone and the news channel that Wade had been tuned into when Peter first arrived shifted into one of the various singing competition shows that littered the public channels. He felt Wade shrug a shoulder.

“Being a hero isn’t about being thanked and having someone roll the red carpet out for you,” he said. “You taught me that.”

“You hate that about being a hero, Wade,” Peter said, not unkindly. It wasn’t news to either of them that saving the world was a thankless job, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

“Yeah, but I’ve gotten better at accepting it – ‘sides, saving the world can be pretty selfish, too. I happen to have a lot of things going for me right here,” he said, nudging Peter and sending him a grin. “Be a shame to let that all go.”

“Yeah, saving the world and sharing desserts – pinnacle of being a selfish asshole,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “…Thankless job or no, I can at least admit when I’m wrong. And get you snacks as an apology when I am.” Wade looked at him for a moment, before the start of another, softer smile started to take hold.

Peter kissed him before he could see what the final version of that smile looked like, but he could still feel the curve of Wade’s lips against his own, sweet and a little sticky from the street food.

“Deal."

Chapter Text

Contrary to popular belief – and by popular he meant MJ, Aunt May, the Fantastic Four, and Wolverine – Peter and Wade weren’t actually attached at the hip. Peter had a day job and lab work to do for his PhD, Wade liked to make trips outside the city to visit his favorite mutant buddies, or go on other work-related trips abroad. There were plenty of times that Spider-man found himself patrolling the city alone, even after tying the knot.

Tonight was one of those nights, as a matter of fact, and the towering skyscrapers spread out around him as he perched on the edge of one of the many office buildings sitting on the lower east side. Traffic had slowed marginally from the typical evening swell, but the many cars rolling along below meshed with the street lamps and the lights from inside the buildings and the LED billboards until everything was sparkling in a candy colored mess.

“Sights like these make me remember why I love New York so much.” Peter hadn’t said that. He had known she was there as soon as he got close to the building, but he decided to wait for her to say something. Her steps grew louder as she walked next to him and sat down. “European cities are too old to get built up like this,” she added, gesturing with her arm slightly.

“Been a long time, Felicia.” Felicia Hardy – cat burglar and occasional hero – smiled back at him. Usually whenever the pair of them got involved, Peter’s big, dumb, bleeding heart let him get conned by her in the end, and she usually made off with something valuable. Or she tried to, only to get double crossed by someone else, and the two of them had to work to get her out of that trouble. And then she’d give him a little wave and disappear for a month or a year or however long. Definitely an interesting relationship; if Wade were here he’d probably point out that Peter had a type.

“Hey Peter,” she greeted, her smile mischievous as usual. Always planning something.

“Did you manage to steal the Mona Lisa then? Back in New York do a victory lap?” she laughed, kicking her leg out and nudging his foot.

“No, work that famous you can’t exactly steal – you’d never get a fair market deal for it. You’d be better off trying to pull off an insurance scheme instead.” Peter glared at her, and she laughed again. “What? You asked!”

“Why are you here, anyway? Got bored of eating croissants and drinking wine?”

“Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”

“Er, I don’t have a passport I don’t know how Europe actually works.”

“I did eat a lot of croissants, and drink a lot of wine,” she said sagely. “Got bored, like anything else. Wanted to come back for some stateside adventures with my favorite spider.” She mimed pinching his cheek before sliding off the ledge and walking across the roof. Peter turned and stood up.

If he had one iota of common sense left Peter knew he should just walk away. He liked Felicia, had even tried to be in a relationship with her once, forever ago, but the pair of them had run around in the same circle for years now, and he knew how adventures with the Black Cat ended. No matter if she called them life or death missions or claimed a loved one was at risk or said it was for the good of the city, mankind, the world – they always, always ended the same.

They were, unfortunately, fun as hell, and Wade wasn’t around so they could go on one of their stupid adventures. He forced himself to look doubtful even as he stepped closer.

“And let me guess,” he drawled, “you found something?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, the edge of her mouth curling. “Bingo.”

-

That was how he found himself deep in Brooklyn, staring at none other than the Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Girls, now repurposed as Weasel’s merc bar. “Someone in there you have to settle a score with?”

“Please, they’re all mercenaries. I’m sure you have scores to settle with all of them!”

“Aren’t you a mercenary? At least on a technicality?” Black Cat sniffed but didn’t say anything.

“This guy’s especially dangerous.”

“You need backup.”

“I need someone to distract him so I can take back what he stole from me. Knowing the target, it’s going to get bloody.”

“And who, exactly, is the target?” He had gone into Weasel’s bar a few times, usually with Wade, or he’d venture there when he couldn’t find Wade and was hoping his friend had an idea of where he’d gotten to. Sometimes the ex-mercenary did go back to Sister Margaret’s for more than a social call with some old buddies, but he was always forthcoming about what sort of mission he was picking up – non-lethal, usually erring on the side of chaotic good.

“This unkillable mercenary I had the displeasure of running into last week,” Felicia muttered, “Deadpool.”

Peter blinked. “Deadpool? You mean like, Wade Wilson? Merc with the Mouth? Whatever other dumb names he comes up with for himself?”

“You’ve fought him then.” Peter blinked again, trying to do some quick mental math. He and Felicia hadn’t talked for over two years, when she had to leave the US to avoid getting arrested for her continued illegal activities. Even though Peter was enough of an idiot and a bleeding heart to help her sneak onto an international flight, they hadn’t exactly been teaming up frequently before that – their rapport definitely had cooled off when their not-quite-a-romantic-relationship fizzled out, between Felicia not appreciating how much Peter enjoyed a domestic life outside of being a hero, and Peter not understanding why Felicia couldn’t try to be a good guy. There had been a residual bitterness there that had, thankfully, faded with time and distance.

Enough time and distance, apparently, that Felicia missed out on the fact that Spider-man not only knew Deadpool and teamed up with the man on the regular, but also that they had been dating for a good chunk of time and were now married.

“Um,” he started, “yeah, haven’t you?”

“Not until Paris. I wasn’t exactly prepared,” she said sourly. “If you’ve had experience with him, I’ll let you take the first crack at it.”

Huh. Well, in for a penny.

“And if I’m meant to take something back from him,” Peter said slowly, waiting to see if Felicia was going to announce this entire plan was an elaborate prank, “what exactly is it?”

“You’ll know when you see it,” she said.

“Illuminating as ever.” He stood up. “Alright, give me ten minutes and I’ll be back.”

“What, why?”

Peter gestured to his suit. “You might be able to walk into a bar full of mercenaries, but the red and blue spider suit is a little conspicuous.” She squinted.

“What did you have in mind?”

“You want me to distract Deadpool? I can distract Deadpool. Just meet me down at the entrance.” He hopped off the building, and when he was out of Felicia’s eyesight, he tugged out his phone.

Peter: You at Weasel’s tonight?

Wade: yeah, stopped in to say hi. y?

Peter: Gonna walk in wearing civvies in 10. Pretend we don’t know each other.

Wade: this sounds like an elaborate roleplay fantasy. safeword?

-

Felicia looked amused when he reappeared ten minutes later, wearing a pair of scuffed jeans and a t-shirt. He had hidden a change of clothes in the depths of Weasel’s office (he had a stash of similar, cheap outfits all around the city, though that was usually for an emergency wardrobe change before work, not an espionage mission). “That’s your disguise?” she asked.

“What were you expecting, a fake mustache?” He opened the door, ducking into the smoky, loud room and wandering over towards the bar. Felicia had the good sense to creep in behind him and find a spot in the corner to watch from.

Peter, however, made a beeline for the bar, sitting one over from the familiar figure encased in black and red. Weasel was working, and merely shot him a raised eyebrow before passing him a beer.

He raised the glass in a silent thanks and took a long pull from it, setting it back on the counter with a heavy clink!

“Rough day?” came an equally rough, pleasantly familiar voice. Peter bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. Instead he sighed.

“Yeah, could say that,” Peter murmured. Wade spun on the bar stool, and even though he was in his suit – hello kitty duffel bag by his feet – he managed to do an impressive job of obviously checking Peter out. Enough to make Weasel scoff at them and wander off. “What about you? Look like you breezed in from somewhere.”

“Doesn’t matter where I came from, just wondering where I’m going with you,”

Peter laughed, picking up his beer again. He glanced over at the corner Felicia had put herself in. She blended in well enough with all the black in her ensemble, but her silvery blonde hair was enough of a pointer for Peter’s eyes to track her, and she still had that smugly amused expression on her face. Good. That meant she was buying it.

“Depends,” Peter answered, leaning towards Wade, a finger gently touching his gloved hand, “you definitely look interesting enough to go somewhere, but I’ve been wrong before.”

“I’m totally interesting, baby boy! Listen, that whole place where I came from? I know I said it didn’t matter, but look at this.” He bent down and unzipped his duffel bag.

Peter was expecting a weapon of some sort, or some artifact, or hell, the statue of a falcon. He wasn’t expecting a little blue velvet box. Wade passed it over in a carefree manner, and Peter flipped it open.

Inside was a ring, of shining silver and lined with white diamonds. In the center was a beautifully formed sapphire.

“Um, wow,” Peter said, before chuckling to try and overcome the bashfulness he suddenly felt. His own wedding band wasn't nearly as flashy, but he couldn't help the memory it conjured up of the last time Wade had tossed a ring box in his direction. “W-Who’s the lucky person?”

“I think I am,” Felicia said, coming between them and swiping at the box. Peter turned so quickly he nearly fell off the stool, before scrabbling to his feet and following her out of the bar.

“Wait!” he called out, getting onto the dark street. “Felicia!”

She turned back towards him, tossing the box up and down in her hands. “Thanks for the assist, spider,” she said with a wink.

“That wasn’t the deal!” She shrugged, and just as Peter shot out a web that aimed for the box, Felicia was being pulled upwards by a grappling gun.

He was getting ready to give chase when the door to the bar slammed open and shut again, Wade coming to stand beside him. “That still wasn’t the worst homecoming I’ve ever had,” he said brightly, shifting the duffel's strap over his shoulder.

“We can probably catch her if –”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, she wasn’t after the ring.”

“No?”

Wade slipped out a micro SD card from inside one of his suit’s pockets. “This was inside it. The ring was being sold at an auction in Paris or something, but she was after this. She thought I was only fighting her for the ring because it was the most expensive thing at the auction, and you know, because she stole it and things that are stolen by quasi bad guys are fair game for me, buuut I got a tip off.” He tucked it back in for safe keeping.

“So… she’s going to get to wherever she’s staying, open it up, and realize the two of us duped her for once?”

“Well, technically I did the duping.”

“I was present for the duping.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean –”

Peter sighed. “Let me have this, Wade.” The other man glanced up at the roof tops Felicia had fled to, and shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, alright.” He wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders and started walking. “Come on, let’s go get your suit, and some food, and maybe I can call Dopinder to drive because I am not in the mood for walking through half of Brooklyn to get to the subway, and then…” Peter just put his hand around Wade’s waist as they moved towards the service entrance of Weasel’s bar, with a glance over his shoulder to make sure the Black Cat was really gone.

It was true that he had fun with Felicia in the past, and maybe they could work themselves back to being friends, maybe, but those early days of infatuation and gullibility were in the past. These days he had a partner that was more than happy to share the details of whatever scheme he dragged Peter into. He sighed against Wade at the thought.

"What's up, Petey?"

"Nothing," he said, "just happy you're back."

-

Wade didn’t bring attention back to what had happened that night until they were settled into their apartment. Peter was scrolling through his phone while Wade finished brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

“I ju’ thaugh ‘f somfing,” he said around his toothbrush, foam dripping down his chin.

“What’s that?” Wade spat into the sink, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and flopped onto the bed.

“You had a thing with Black Cat, right?”

“Um… yes?” Peter answered. They had both mentioned their string of past relationships as they had gotten more serious; unfortunately, the superhero/mercenary/residents of Hell circle was one that was smaller than one would think, and Peter and Wade were often encountering old lovers as allies, enemies, or an awkward conversation waiting to happen.

Peter wasn’t expecting Wade’s slow growing grin in response to his answer. “What?”

“You have a type,” he said.

“What?!”

“Me, Black cat…”

Peter squinted. “What, I’ve been with people who wear incredibly tight costumes?”

“No, that’s not a pattern, that just means you date supers. I meant the whole mercenary thing,” he said, spreading his hands out.

“I don’t think so. Two does not a pattern make.”

“…Didn’t you get with that other merc? Silver Sable?”

“That was – years ago and, I mean – she said she only cared about the money but that wasn’t true at all.” Wade laughed.

“I don’t care about what – who – you did, Petey, I’m just saying, again - you have a type.”

“…I do not.” Wade rolled closer to Peter, leaning up on his elbow so he could more easily poke Peter in the side as he talked.

“Antiheroes with secret hearts of gold – you’re too much of a good guy, right? Wanna take a walk on the wild side? Hope some good lovin' can drag us into the light?”

“Shut up,” he could feel his cheeks burning.

“No, no, I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together! This is just perfect. Does that mean in some other universes you’re the Mr. Hardy and you pal around with me while she’s away?” Peter put his head in his hands, groaning.

Abruptly, he recalled what he had learned earlier that night, and snapped his head up.

“Wade,” he said. “I… don’t think Black Cat knows we’re married.”

“Huh?”

“She’s been in Europe for a long time. It wasn’t like I told her about it or anything, and she came to me suggesting that we fight you together. I was the one who came up with the idea to roll up as Peter to distract you.” Wade made a noise of interest. “Not to mention she’d have to be delusional if she’d think I’d team up with her against you, you know, for real. I just rolled with it to see where her plan was going, you know?”

“No way.”

“Yes! Why else would she try to steal your stuff with me as backup?”

Wade stilled for a moment, before rubbing his chin. “Huh.”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess we don’t advertise it or anything, but anyone could look you up and realize you have a spouse! Our marriage license is public knowledge! Our wedding pictures are on social media!”

“Do you think anyone else missed that memo?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Do we know any other supers who weren’t in the country for a while?”

“I don’t think so. Unless they faked their death and are waiting to announce themselves at the most dramatic reveal moment.”

“Yeah,” he said at length. “Yeah, you’re probably right. No one is that out of the loop.” He turned and smiled at Wade. “Can you imagine?”

Chapter Text

It was Friday. That was enough to lift Peter’s spirits. Fridays meant he didn’t have any meetings with his professors, or more shifts to pull at Stark Industries in the R&D department, for two whole days. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy both of those things immensely, but this particular Friday also heralded the start of a long, long overdue vacation with Wade. It had taken a few months of cajoling and convincing from the other man, actually, but once Peter agreed, he found himself counting down the days until they were heading to the airport together.

The obvious pep in his step was probably what made Tony Stark notice him as he rounded the corridor of the floor he was on. Stark did come down to the labs on occasion – there were a dozen floors of research and development labs in the SI tower, and sometimes when the man was bored of whatever he was working on in the privacy of his workshop, he liked to snoop around to see what the other researchers were up to.

The fact that Pepper was by his side, flicking through a tablet and murmuring in his ear, meant that he had come down for more than just a social call.

“Parker!” he greeted, startling Peter out of his own thoughts. “Just the man I wanted to see.”

Peter smiled and stepped closer. When he had started working at SI as an undergrad, he had been more blindsided by hero worship – with Tony Stark as the scientist and Tony Stark as Iron Man – and a little bit paranoid that the man would end up discovering his secret identity. That had been over five years ago, though, and in that time he had learned to trust the Avengers, and while he didn’t flaunt his identity as much as Tony Stark did, he didn’t try to hide it from the heroes that had slowly become friends.

He also liked to think that he and Tony had something of a special relationship. They usually only worked together as scientists when some supervillain was wreaking havoc on a city-wide level, but the man also seemed to appreciate the versatility of Peter’s capabilities in his own labs. He had gone from strict access in the biomedical engineering field to being given carte blanche to work in whatever lab caught his fancy. Stark had even joked once or twice that he could probably expedite the PhD process, if only to free up Peter’s time so he could be at SI full-time. It was a flattering offer, but Peter wanted to do things the old fashioned way.

All of that to say that he didn’t have any of his original hesitancy or hang-ups when it came to talking with his sometimes boss, sometimes teammate. Stark seemed to appreciate the confidence, if nothing else.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Stark?” he asked.

“Remember the spider silk you were engineering the other month?” Peter blinked. He was always engineering some stronger version of web fluid.

“Can you be more specific?” he asked, sheepishly.

“The one that was able to connect together in a solid mass and not dissolve under heavy amounts of water.”

“Oh, right.” The prototype of that one had been created in a frantic desperation to stop the rising water levels in the Hudson that had been caused when several large meteors crash landed into the Atlantic ocean; the race to remove or destroy the giant balls of rock had started flooding in downtown Manhattan, and Peter had to use a prototype of Reed Richard’s cloning machine to create enough of the stuff to string up around the high rise buildings to stop the entire city from going underwater.

That had been a long day.

Afterwards, he had taken the recipe back to the lab to tweak; he even added a growing component that would remove future, harried trips to the Baxter Building in the midst of a crisis. “The anti-flood stuff, what about it?”

Tony looked amused. “The patent for it got approved earlier than expected – well, earlier than Pepper expected, because she thought I didn’t have the same pull with the office after last year’s debacle with the –”

“Focus, Tony,” she chided.

“Anyway!” He clapped his hands. “I would have loved to premiere it at the Stark Expo, but why wait? We can do a demonstration at the conference coming up next Friday.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows.

“…The World Science Festival?”

“Yeah, that’s the one! We’re a sponsor, and I was thinking we could probably flood one of our gym levels to show –”

“We are not flooding the tower,” Pepper added, sounding like this was a conversation they had held several times.

“Well, we can’t flood NYU’s event center on purpose this year,” he grumbled. “Anyway, demonstration, keynote speech, lots of adoring fans – are you up for it?” Peter was actually incredibly up for that. Well, he would have been. With a frown, he shook his head.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, Mr. Stark, that’s – a really big honor, but I won’t be able to make it.”

“You won’t?” Tony looked like he hadn’t been expecting a refusal. “Don’t tell me you developed a sudden case of stage fright.” Peter laughed – yeah, right. Stark knew about Peter’s difficulty with shutting up, in or out of the Spider-man costume.

“It does sound amazing, but I’ll be out of New York until next Sunday. I cleared the vacation time with HR months ago.” Pepper made a noise in the back of her throat, still staring at her tablet – she had probably just found that out herself.

Stark, however, was not to be deterred. “And you’re sure I can’t persuade you to change it?"

“Tony,” Pepper warned.

“Sorry, it’s just – if it’s a vacation I could pay for the rebooking a week after, or whenever you want, actually.” Peter laughed.

“Thanks, but we picked this date since Wade isn’t busy then.” For some reason, the holiday season was Wade’s ‘busiest quarter for mercenary work’, and it didn’t let up until spring. Peter had no idea why, but he also wasn’t opposed to taking the week off when it lined up with his own spring break – aka no necessary skype calls with his advisors. “We’ve been putting off our honeymoon for almost a whole year at this point.”

Stark very clearly latched on to one particular word in that statement. “…Honeymoon?” He was staring at Peter with something more involved than professional interest in his projects. Actually, it was slightly erring on the side of ‘sprouted second head’ levels of focus.

“Yeah, I know, right?” Peter said, a little embarrassed. His boss was not the only person who wondered why it took Wade and Peter so damn long to go on vacation together. Trips to outer space or into the multiverse didn’t count. “Stuff just kept coming up, one after another, with his jobs and stuff with my dissertation, and I guess I always got worried about leaving New York for so long, so we kind of decided that we’d get to it after the wedding, and um… we didn’t. Until now.”

“Right. Yeah. Uh huh. And the wedding…?”

“You were at a conference in Austria,” Pepper reminded him dryly, “we sent a gift.”

“Many gifts,” Peter countered, smiling.

“They were very expensive, since you couldn’t be there in person,” Pepper added.

“We really appreciate them, Mr. Stark!” Wade definitely got use out of the ten speed blender that was both whisper quiet and capable of turning an uncut pineapple into a puree.

“Uh, yeah. You’re welcome…” Tony seemed a bit frozen to the spot, staring at the other two.

“So…” Peter prompted, and Pepper rolled her eyes.

“You said it was cleared with HR, so it’s cleared. Don’t let Tony bully you into staying.”

Peter shot her a grin. “Thanks Pepper. See you around, Mr. Stark!” He kept walking towards his original destination, and couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Tony’s frantic “Pepper! Pepper! Why didn’t you tell me, I can’t believe –” Peter had sent the invitation with the expectation that Tony probably wouldn’t be able to make it – he wasn’t just a superhero, after all, which made his schedule even crazier than Peter’s.

Plus, he knew no matter the outcome, Pepper was going to send he and Wade something fantastic as a makeup gift.

-

There had been some initial debate about where the two of them were going to go for a week. Between the two of them, Wade had been to the wider range of exotic locales. Some of which were even worth a second visit. Peter would listen to his husband talk about the other metropolises that dotted the world – the food, crazy nightlife, and the seedy underbelly of it all. A few had caught his attention, and some idle internet searches had led to nigh endless possibilities of places to go: museums, gardens, historical sites, universities with public access to cutting edge science exhibits.

But he also knew, deep, deep down, that if he was going to get peace and quiet for a week, he had one thing in mind.

Wade’s hands were rough from a mixture of his natural callouses and the grit of sand as he rubbed another layer of sunscreen onto Peter’s back. “I’m pretty sure I had a fantasy about this… but with Cable.”

Peter lowered his sunglasses and glanced over his shoulder. “Before we were dating?”

“Oh yeah, back in the 90s? Before you were born.”

“I was born in the 90s, and you were only –”

“Shh, age is just a number, baby.”

“Pass me the sunscreen,” Peter said, holding his hand out. He dabbed a bit on his face and slipped his sunglasses back on. Wade had moved from perfunctory motions and his fingers were instead starting to slip beneath the waistband of Peter’s swim trunks. The beach wasn’t packed this time of year, so Peter didn’t wriggle away just yet.

“You know they do have a nude beach like two miles south,” Wade said, snapping the band before wiping his hands on their towel and settling next to Peter.

“Not on your life, Wade.”

“Come onnn, I booked us this awesome hotel!”

“It is pretty awesome.”

“And I took you to that genuine Mexican place that had actual food cooked by the locals so we aren’t complete tourists.” Peter felt his mouth starting to creep up into a smile.

“You did do that.”

“And I let you have the aisle seat on the plane!” Peter laughed.

“I’m not opposed to the idea in theory,” Peter said, deciding to throw Wade a bone, “but the sand…”

“Maybe if you asked your old pal Sandman to show up he could –” Peter smacked Wade’s side.

“A really, really big blanket could probably work. Maybe.” He shot Wade a look. “Or if you’re gonna get handsy now we could just go back to said awesome hotel room?” Wade grinned and tugged Peter in for a kiss.

“That the genius I know and love.”

Peter leaned back, hand settling on the side of Wade’s neck. “I feel like I’m about to say something incredibly sappy.”

“I’m not opposed,” Wade replied.

“Even if it was really cliché? Like – I feel like I’m the luckiest guy on Earth?” And Peter did, indeed, feel exactly like that in the moment.

Which was the exact time for his typical Parker Luck to show up and ruin everything. It started with a deep, pervading rumble that was an odd sound for a seismically calm part of the planet to be making. The calm water of low tide began to slosh against the shore in higher, choppier waves.

“I just jinxed us, didn’t I?”

“’Fraid so.” Wade sat up and stretched. The ocean was now starting to bubble in a disconcerting manner, and the other sunbathers were starting to frantically pack up and leave. “Do you think we have enough time to get our stuff at the hotel?”

“You can go back if you want,” Peter said, digging into the backpack he had brought. Underneath the snacks and extra water bottles, he pulled out his mask and web shooters. He would have preferred to fight in his full costume, but it was better than nothing. “I snuck these down to the –” When he turned back to Wade, he found the other man in a similar state of dress – mask and pistol, and his two swords that shouldn’t have been able to fit in any of the beach stuff they brought down. “You know, someone might call us paranoid,” he offered, hauling himself to his feet and dashing towards the shore.

“I like to think of it as medium awareness.”

Peter was grateful he had the foresight to pack web fluid that could cling onto wet materials without becoming bogged down with the additional weight, since whatever they were fighting appeared to be a large, amphibious creature rising from the depths.

“It’s a kaiju!” Wade exclaimed, diving into the water to try and slash at the thing’s ankles.

“It’s ruining the beach!” Peter scrabbled up the slick back of the creature, only to get knocked off when the beast was rocked sideways by an errant blast. He landed in the water, the waves making a hard impact on his skin.

The rock he landed on was even worse, and he let out a scream muffled by water coming in over his head. When he finally resurfaced, he was left coughing and trying to get the water to drain out of his mask, nursing his right arm as it throbbed. “What was that?” he yelled, poor visibility meaning he couldn’t tell where Wade was, if he was even close by.

He didn’t get an answer from his husband though, instead a familiar voice called out, “who do you think?” The cocky delivery was a giveaway.

“Can’t believe Iron Man inadvertently broke my arm,” he grumbled, looking up in time to see more repulsor blasts hit the monster. It at least seemed to be doing a decent amount of damage. A shield and the sounds of a ridiculously over powered gun hitting the far side of the monster made Peter think that maybe they could get this done with minimal property damage. He started wading towards the shore to get a better line of sight with the other supers, only to look up when the creature let out an ear splitting screech and started falling, limbs splayed out wide.

“Really?” was all he could manage, before the heavy limb of the felled beast went right onto his head. Well – his hands. He let out another cry of pain, his right arm buckling under the strain as his left tried to keep himself from getting crushed. He was sinking into the sand, having to crane his neck to breathe as the water rose from chest to chin height in seconds. “A little help!?” he yelled out.

This time he didn’t hear the sound of Iron Man’s weapons firing; instead it was the feeling of a gust of air at his side. Wade’s katanas sunk into the monster’s flesh, cutting it from the body and letting Peter drop it to the side. He struggled to pull his feet from the sand, panting as he made his way back to the shore. “Thanks, Wade,” he managed. Wade gave him a thumbs up, only to rush over when Peter fell onto the sand.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah – got a little beat up.” He squeezed his arm experimentally, grimacing at the newfound pain. Yep. Definitely broken. Damnit.

Before Wade could ask, Iron Man was touching down on the relatively dry shore. “Spider-man. Deadpool. Didn’t realize you were on this mission too.”

“Mission?”

“Those meteors that struck along the coast a few weeks ago – apparently they were filled with intelligent life forms.” He nodded to the mess still left in the water. “These ones, specifically.”

“What? When did we find this out?”

“Only a few days ago. We couldn't destroy all of them when we initially landed, so there's still a few rising to the surface. Figured the core Avengers team would be enough to stop it – that’s why we weren’t expecting to see you two down here, making a vacation of it.”

Peter looked at Wade, who merely shrugged. “We are on vacation,” Peter said. The burning cuts littered across his body from the sand and impact on the water, combined with the aching pain in his arm weren’t putting him in the best mood to handle his aloof boss. “We talked about it a few days ago.”

“Yeah, we picked this place forever ago.”

“You came here together?” Iron Man asked.

“Of course we did!” Peter said, wanting to scramble to his feet to shake the man. Maybe that conversation back at the office went in one ear and out the other, but really? Peter had thought they got close enough that Tony could pay attention to where he was gallivanting off to for a week – especially since he only did that, oh, never.

“Iron Man,” Captain America’s voice sounded from some yards away.

“If you two see anything else, you know how to reach us,” the man said, before flying back to where the other core Avengers team was congregating. Peter fell back into the sand with a sigh.

“I work with that man for five years and I swear he doesn’t hear a thing I say,” he said, grumbling. “I’m glad I left before I could present at that expo. Serves him right.”

Wade laughed. “Peter Parker, complaining about an emotionally stunted boss? Isn’t that a rare sight.”

“If we knew each other when I was still working for the Daily Bugle…”

“I love when you get bitchy.”

“I’m not bitching, I just – ouch,” He had tried to haul himself up using his bad arm.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just got banged up,” Peter said.

Wade knelt down. “Yikes, you got scratched up real good, and this arm looks broken,” He poked it, and Peter had to fight down a grunt of pain. “You sure you don’t want to tag along with the super friends?”

Peter tipped his head back “Nooo… You know they’re gonna fly me back to New York on a jet and not offer me a ride back. I don’t even need a cast. Do you know how many times I’ve accidentally broken a bone?”

“Uh. Zero? Zero times because you are incredibly fast and not stupid enough to let someone hit you hard enough that you’re debilitated for six weeks?”

“At least twice.”

“Not the answer I wanted to hear, Pete.”

“I can sleep it off – literally! Just – help me hobble back to the hotel room in dignity, and I’ll be fine.”

-

He  had been able to sleep it off, though that hadn't stopped Wade from feeling guilty and treating Peter with a sensitivity that was reminiscent of the awkward, early days of their relationship. The nostalgia of that had worn off, and it had taken a solid argument and some mutually beneficial sulking before they were back to normal again - meaning that their week long vacation was effectively cut in half due to emotional fallout Tony Stark inadvertently caused by firing at a monster that Peter had been climbing on. The rational part of his brain knew he couldn't really blame the other guy - like he said, he wasn't expecting Deadpool or Spider-man to be hanging around, but still. Peter was known to hang onto his fair share of irrational, petty grudges. 

Which was why he had been hoping to avoid running into Stark for a little while longer. A hope that was swiftly dashed around his first hour of his first day back at work. “Hey, Parker!” Peter turned, scowl still on his face and not moving as he caught sight of Mr. Stark, looking like he had probably been up for a few hours and was well and truly awake, unlike Peter. “How was the honeymoon?”

He blinked. “Are. Are you serious?”

Mr. Stark just blinked at him. “What? Trouble in paradise?”

Peter stared at him, open-mouthed, for another few moments before shaking his head and walking out of the lab. Despite Mr. Stark’s repeated calls to him, he kept going and didn’t stop until he was in the lab’s breakroom, waiting for a new pot of coffee to brew while he dialed Wade’s number.

“Hey, Petey –”

“Wade, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he drew in a long breath through his nose, “But I’m going to need you to talk me out of committing grievous acts of bodily harm.”

Chapter Text

Peter was getting really, really tired of telepaths using their powers to make him hallucinate his worst fears.

Yeah, yeah, #firstworldsuperherorproblems, sure, but it still sucked. He wanted to push his brain out of what he was seeing, take control like a lucid dream. But the dark sorcerer who was orchestrating this all – she had caught Iron Man, Captain America, who knew how many other heroes, under her grasp. Her powers seemed to get stronger the closer the proximity, so Peter had built up momentum to swing at her, hoping a well-placed kick would send her flying away from the other heroes.

And it did! Hopefully far enough away that they could come out of the trance on their own – except – her fist closed around his ankle before he could make his own escape, and he felt icy tendrils of magic work their way up his spine, into his skull. He sucked in a breath, clawing to get away as his vision went dark. This isn’t real, he thought, gasping for air. It’s not real it’s not real it’s not -

Until the sorcerer ripped even that thought away from him, too.

“Wade, please! It’s me, Peter. You remember me, right?” Wade’s suit was bloody, which was a rather impressive feat, considering the dark red of the suit was good at masking those stains. But this time, this time, he was dripping with blood, red staining the ground where he stood and metallic stinging Peter’s nose. His mask was gone – would Wade recognize him better now?

There were bodies that came into focus. Their teammates, all broken and twisted, Cap’s shield shoved into his chest, Stark’s armor dark and silent, the Hulk face down in his own blood, Clint and Natasha ripped apart by a hail of bullets, and down by his feet…

“No.” He covered his hands with his mouth, legs giving out underneath him. “No, no, no, no… Aunt May… MJ, wake up, wake up…” He shook them, only to pull back in horror when the motion jostled their heads from their shoulders.

He looked up at Wade. “How could you? What happened Wade? Wade! I know this isn’t – you couldn’t – you love the Avengers! May and MJ – what – I don’t – Wade…” For the first time in years, he felt a surge of fear as Deadpool approached him. One of his katanas was desecrated with blood and gore. He rested it a hair’s breadth from Peter’s chest.

“Why?” Peter breathed out.

“I’m just doing what I’m good at,” he said with a shrug. His mask pulled like it did when he was grinning.

Instead of getting run through by Wade’s sword, Peter jumped up into the air. He wrenched the weapon away from Wade – no – Deadpool – no – some monster. A person he thought he could trust. Who had taken everything away from him. He parried the man’s attacks. Peter was faster. Peter was stronger. And he was a hero – which meant he couldn’t let Deadpool kill anyone, ever again.

The masked mercenary was on his back, Peter straddling him, hands tight on his throat, squeezing, choking. “Why?” he screamed again, tears streaming down his face. “You changed! You loved me! We were everything to each other!”

Deadpool coughed, his struggles weakening. “Must’ve… been your… imagination.” He went still. And Peter was alone. No teammates, no friends, no family.

Nothing.

Breaking from the hallucination was like trying to cough water out of his lungs. He flailed as the image of the dead swam and collided with everyone moving, alive. He grasped the edge of his mask and pulled it up, sucking in air desperately. He was still crying, choking on sobs as he tried to breathe and tried not to panic and tried to forget what he’d seen.

“Hey, hey, Webs? Baby? Shh, it’s okay.” Peter couldn’t look up, but he saw familiar red and black boots. He jolted back. “Hey, none of that, it’s just me. I don’t know what you saw, but you know I’d never hurt you, right?” Wade knelt in front of him and wrapped his arms around Peter tightly. “It was just some asshole goth kid with a telepathic mutation, alright, Pete?” he whispered into the younger man’s ear.

“She – where –”

“Don’t worry, I got her. She couldn’t get through this noggin if she tried,” he said, going for levity. “We got some magic consultant around here to make sure she doesn’t try that again.”

Peter nodded, the words going in one ear and out the other. There had been so much blood and – and –

“Hey, Peter?” He glanced at Wade. His suit was completely blood free. “None of that was real. You’re with me, and the Avengers. She can’t hurt you anymore. Nothing you just saw happened, and it is never gonna happen. I promise. You hear me?”

Peter tried to suck in a deep breath, tried to relax, but the sobs were still there. He managed to nod jerkily against Wade’s shoulder before hugging back. Wade coughed and twisted slightly, muttering a “too tight, Webs,” but Peter didn’t dare lessen his grip.

At some point, once he had started to get his breathing under control, and the tears were drying on his face, he heard a voice. Not Wade’s. “Jeez, stop retraumatizing him, Deadpool.”

“He’s holding me, Barton. I’m just trying not to asphyxiate myself.” Peter frowned, and reluctantly loosened his grip on Wade. “There, see? That’s better.”

“He’ll probably need to get patched up,” Capitan America’s voice sounded. “Maybe a psych eval. That witch was… creative with her visions, and I think he got the worst of it.” There were a few mumbled assents from others.

“Hear that, Spidey? Time for some shared rooms and jell-o and shitty coffee from a vending machine!” Wade hauled Peter to his feet, wiping at the tears with his gloved thumbs before pulling Peter’s mask down over his face. “You up for that?”

“You just want to see me in a hospital gown,” Peter croaked out.

“You bet.”

-

“So, what was your vision about?” Peter was stabbing at his jell-o cup when Clint spoke up. They were put in the same room, though Clint’s injuries were more of the superficial – got my ass kicked by some telepathic powers - variety. Peter had already had some questions directed at him by a psychiatrist before getting sent to the ward to recover. And he was in a hospital gown; Wade said he’d go get him some clothes and wash his gross suit. They let him keep the mask at least. Peter wasn’t interested in letting a dozen nurses and other staff get a good look at him, especially not after… everything.

“Huh?”

“Whatever the witch made you see. That was fucking awful. Tony and Steve looked like they saw a ghost, or maybe an army of ghosts – but you? Oh man. What the hell happened to you?” Peter stared down at the gelatinous, orange mass, frowning.

“It was Deadpool. He went rogue and… killed everyone. I had to kill him to get him to stop.”

“Oh,” Clint said, stretching in his own bed. “That’s all?”

Peter furrowed his brows. “What do you mean that’s all?”

“I mean – he was a mercenary before you met him, right? He’s fought all of us – including you – at least a dozen times.”

“We have not fought a dozen times.” Not in a super powered brawl way, at least. Sure, that was how their relationship started, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Now their fights consisted of bickering over who got to watch what or who needed to do the dishes. The occasional angst fest when Peter almost got himself killed or Wade almost got rendered into dust. Couple stuff. “And Deadpool still had a moral code, even when he did kill people. But in my vision he killed you guys, my family… Almost killed me.” His throat worked. “Until I had to put him down. He just said – it was like nothing mattered to him. Like he was completely different.” He felt his eyes sting just thinking about it. His relationship with Wade wasn’t perfect, and it definitely didn’t have a meet-cute, romcom styled beginning, but he and Wade made it work, and Peter was always ready to admit that his life was easier nowadays because he had Wade by his side. The idea of a betrayal so complete made him want to curl up in bed and not move for a good long while.

“I mean…” Clint started to say, shifting in his own bed. “I know you two get along a lot better these days,” Peter laughed wetly at the other’s joke, “but you know that’s always a possibility, right?”

Peter stopped laughing. “A possibility that…”

“You know, one wrong trigger and boom, back to square one.”

“Wade’s not like that,” he said, fists tightening in the blankets. It was just a bad attempt at a joke, he tried to tell himself. Clint was full of them. But it didn’t make him feel any better.

“Hey, he likes you, and I certainly prefer him paling around with us versus what he used to be doing, but you always have to be ready for that risk.” He shot Peter a pointed look.

“There’s as much a chance of Wade doing what happened in my vision as me doing the same thing.” And that would never, ever happen. Maybe Wade would go into a dark place sometime in the future, maybe their marriage would get tested in ways that Peter couldn’t predict at this moment in time, but Wade would never willingly hurt Peter, their family, their friends and teammates – not like that.

“You? You’re about as much of a veritable boy scout as Cap, you don’t have to worry about any dark impulses.”

“That’s not true,” Peter argued, as much as it pained him to admit it, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He usually liked Clint. The man was a bit of a walking disaster, but pot, kettle, right? Usually they got along like a house on fire. “I thought you liked Wade!”

“Eh, yeah, he can be a riot, and he’s convenient, you know, but…” He twisted his mouth into a frown. “I just don’t know what you see in him.”

Peter ached from the battle, and he still had a rather pervading headache, but he was suddenly thinking on some of his darker impulses – or at least, throwing his jello cup really, really hard in Clint’s face.

Always the master of perfect timing, Wade came into the room. “Hey there, baby boy, I’m back.” He had probably stopped by their apartment, considering he was out of his own suit and had Peter’s backpack slung over his shoulder. He proudly brandished a brown paper bag. “Got some pho, and a change of clothes, and your laptop in case they keep you here all day and you want to work on your paper, and a new mask.” He brandished the last item before tossing it to Peter, who quickly switched into a fabric that wasn’t damp from tears and snot.

Wade sat on the edge of Peter’s bed and presented him with a warm Styrofoam cup of noodles, and Peter thought for a moment that he was about to get this mask damp, too.

Instead, he rolled the mask up partway. “Wade?” he asked.

“Ye-es?”

Peter grabbed the front of his shirt, not aggressively, or anything, just enough to tug the other man closer. “I love you,” he said, before bringing their lips together. It was chaste, if lingering and more romantic than what they usually showed around the Avengers, but Peter just wanted Wade to know, no matter what Clint or anyone said, no matter what awful things he saw today, he knew who Wade was, and he was so grateful to have him in his life.

Wade seemed to understand, looking happy when he pulled back. He squeezed Peter’s hand. “I love you too.”

“Um,” came a quiet voice from the bed next to them. Wade looked over. “What the fuck?”

“It’s just a kiss,” Peter grumbled, opening the container and starting to scarf down some noodles.

“That was a PG kiss, too,” Wade added. “No tongue, no groping, no –”

“Since when did you two – do that?”

“Uh… well we usually don’t make a public show out of it, I guess.” Peter admitted. That was more his rule than Wade’s, obviously.

“Not where people can see,” Wade added. Peter could imagine the saucy wink he was doing beneath the mask.

“You two are together?!” Clint exclaimed. Peter and Wade shared a look.

“Are you being serious right now?” Peter asked. If this wasn’t weird enough, some of the other Avengers filtered into the room. The slightly harried look made Peter wonder if Clint had either pressed a panic button or they were all tuned into the security cameras.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked, going over to stand by Clint’s bed.

“Listen,” the archer began, “I know I’m not the best intelligence agent ever,”

“Yeah, don’t know where the intelligence went with you,” Wade said, making Peter snort in response.

“But did anyone know these two were – were –” He waved his hand at them, then paused. “What are you?”

Peter slid his eyes from Clint, back over to Wade. “Dude,” he started slowly, “you – you know Wade is my husband, right?” There was a very conspicuous silence that draped over the room. “We - We’ve been married for over a year.”

“Best year of my life so far,” Wade added, bouncing slightly on the mattress as he spoke. Peter looked around the room at the other Avengers. They all looked like they were in varying stages of doing some serious mental math to figure out an esoteric problem.

“Is this your way of getting back at us because I didn’t send you all wedding invites?” Peter asked.

“You had a wedding?” Clint asked.

“One that happened while you were both sober and not in Las Vegas?” Natasha added, though she looked like some revelation was dawning on her. Probably a million moments of hindsight being 20/20.

“No, we planned it, like a normal couple. We invited some supers I guess –”

“Wolverine said he didn’t want to be my best man but I caught him crying just before the ceremony, it was awesome,” Wade added.

“But we kind of wanted something smaller and I wasn’t as close to most of you as I am now,” Peter continued, though he now had to wonder about said closeness if none of them knew he and Wade were together. “I only invited Tony but he was in Austria for something at the time.”

Several heads turned to look at the battered and bruised billionaire who was holding an ice pack to the side of his head. He squinted at Peter. “You… didn’t happen to have only just gone on your honeymoon a month ago, did you?”

“The one with the giant fish monster that was attacking the beaches, yeah.” Tony’s eyes widened.

“Pe-” He cut himself off. “You’re Sp – and you’re married to –” He walked over to a nearby plastic chair and sat down heavily in it, putting a hand over his eyes. “I’m the dumbest genius alive.”

“Pepper knew,” he added. Tony shot back a grumbled ‘Pepper knows everything.’

This time Wade spoke up. “Seriously? There are two secret agents in this room and one of them is actually competent. The records are public.”

“There are pictures!” Peter bemoaned.

Natasha frowned. “Guess SHIELD never put much stock in your romantic life, Wilson.” Peter and Wade just glanced at each other again with increased bewilderment.

“So,” Wade slowly raised a hand, forefinger extended in thought, “remember how we had a big angst fest about how if we got married more people would find out your secret identity could put our life of domestic bliss at serious risk?”

“And all of that was apparently for nothing,” Peter said, with dawning horror. “I – oh, my God.” He gave the collected Avengers one last look before slowly lowering himself onto the pillows on his bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief.

“Does that mean we can find out who’s under the…” Clint started.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m discharging myself.” Peter rolled out of bed, grabbing the backpack from where Wade was sitting. He’d change into something with a back in the bathroom. “Come on  Wade.”

“Sure thing, baby boy, you know I love to watch you go.” He sent a cheery wave over his shoulder to the rest of the team,

-

“Ow, ow, ow.”

“You probably should have stayed there at least long enough for them to get you another dose of pain meds.”

“And deal with a round of twenty questions from Captain America? And Hawkeye and Iron Man trying to be funny? I don’t think so.” Peter eased himself onto their bed, adjusting the ice pack against his head.

"Someone sounds bitter."

"I'm not bitter," he spat out, bitterly. He could hear Wade wandering around their apartment, the sound of city traffic outside. The desire to sleep off his injuries was overwhelming, only being halted by the sheer level of annoyance that he felt. “I just – how could they not have noticed?!”

“People can be surprisingly non-observant,” Wade said. “We forget important stuff all the time.”

“Well. Yes, but… does that mean that everyone who’s poked fun at how on top of each other we are or asked questions about our relationship just have… no idea that we’re an item?”

Wade sat on his side of the bed and shrugged a shoulder. “I guess.” Peter turned on his side to face him.

“I didn’t think we were that much of an odd couple.”

“Well…”

“Listen, we’ve both developed over the years. I’d say we’re in the solid chaotic good category these days.”

“Maybe they just can’t move past the sort of guy I used to be.” He crossed his arms, looking up at the ceiling. “I guess I can’t blame them.”

Peter put a hand on Wade’s arm. “Alternative theory.”

“Hm?”

“Maybe they’re criminally non observant idiots, like you said, and that’s it.” He snorted. “Aunt May knew I was seeing someone new before I even realized we were actually going on dates, MJ saw your proposal coming a mile away, half the X-Men wouldn’t leave us alone over the wedding planning stuff…”

“Cable also shed a tear at the ceremony, I swear –”

“How could you tell? You were crying too much to see clearly.” Wade gave him a dopey smile.

“Maybe I was.”

Peter grinned. “You definitely were.” Wade settled closer to him, pressing a kiss into his hair before looping an arm over him. After a few moments, Peter shut his eyes. He could find a way to milk this for comedic value later. Once he had a nap.

“You know,” Wade murmured, fingers running up and down Peter’s shoulder, “I didn’t think nabbing the one and only Spider-man was going to be one of the gambits I pulled off under the Avengers’ noses, but I guess I can take the credit for it.” His voice was quiet, introspective. Might have just been talking to himself. “Best thing I ever got my hands on,” he added. Peter just pressed closer, smile still in place, and let himself drift off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Peter sat back and observed the other, well, hims, trying to hatch some sort of plan against Morlun and his family of psychic eating vampires who enjoyed picking off Spider people one by one. He leaned his head back against the wall with a dull thunk! Man, multiverses were actually kind of exhausting. If it wasn’t the threat of not only you but your entire universe being destroyed, it was being surrounded by what appeared to be off-brand versions of you, the majority of which had the same name, which meant everyone had to refer to each other by increasingly dramatic hero names or the universe they came from. Personally, Peter thought bring from Earth 1089-B was a bit of a mouth full.

“You okay?” It took Peter a moment to realize that one of the other spider-men had broken away and was talking to him. He ran a hand over his face, momentarily forgetting he had removed his mask. It didn’t really matter when everyone had the same identity, did it?

“Uh, fine. First time, you know? Being… surrounded by alternate versions of me.”

“Tell me about it.” Emboldened by the same opinion, the other Spider-man sat down. “I’m from Earth 41968, apparently.”

“Earth 1089-B,” Peter said, holding out a hand, which the other Spider-man took. They sat back to watch the show between some of the more outspoken alternate versions of themselves.

“Kind of feel like I’m being sent to the kids’ table,” the other Spider-man joked. “These guys just picked me up an hour ago.”

“Yeah, me too, pretty much. I don’t know if I should count myself lucky that I didn’t have to fight any of the Inheritors first or not.” He still had only heard about how ruthless these guys were, and could only guess how many of their… kind? had fallen to these monsters.

“I briefly encountered Karn, but the uh, you know, Superior Spider-man and some others pulled me out. We had to hop around a bit to evade the guy, and here we are.”

“Superior Spider-man,” Peter mumbled under his breath. The guy had a definite… capacity for leadership. Sort of. But he and some of the other versions of himself were a bit darker than he liked to think about. “I don’t have anything against the guy, it’s just… the name is a bit much.”

“Mm,”

“Unless you also go by a slightly blown out of proportion name yourself?”

“Nope, just another Spider-man who moonlights as an undergrad student named Peter Parker.”

“Undergrad, huh? I’m finishing up my masters. Biomedical engineering?”

“Yeah, but to be honest, I might want to double up on quantum physics or something, after this. I mean, I knew about string theory, but I didn’t realize how… possible universe hopping really was. I don’t know if you’ve met him where you are, but this is really making me double guess all of Deadpool’s crazy stories.”

Peter barked out a laugh, the mention of his husband’s hero name bringing a smile to his face. “Yes, Deadpool and I know each other.”

“Really?” Peter 41968 turned to stare at him. Presumably, at least, staring was happening from underneath the mask. “Is it – I mean, um. How is he? W-Where you’re from?”

Peter shrugged, still smiling. “Probably wondering where I am, for starters.”

“Yeah? Do you guys like, go on patrols together or something? Team up?” Peter felt his smile inching higher despite himself.

“We do that,” he said, “among other things.” He left just a hint of something else dangling at the end of that sentence. “And how do you know your Deadpool?”

Apparently, the name of the admittedly polarizing character could only be brought up so many times before some of the other surrounding Spiders picked up on it.

“Ugh, are you talking about Deadpool? At a time like this?”

“We were just saying his funny asides about being in comic books or movies or looking different in another universe may just hold some more weight, now that we all know how possible it is to hop from one dimension to another,” Peter said easily.”

“You think that maniac’s stories are funny?” another Spider-man spoke up.

“Don’t be rude,” Peter shot back.

“Who’s Deadpool?” asked one of the younger Spider-men in a red and black suit.

“This mercenary who can’t die –”

“- You mean you don’t have him where you’re from? Lucky.”

“He threw me off a bridge the first time we met!”

“Me too!”

“Me too!”

“He did what?” Peter 41968 said, a note of distress creeping into his voice.

“He didn’t do that to you?” Peter 1089-B said, more than a little surprised. “He must have liked you a lot right off the bat, then?” the mention of Deadpool liking anyone, more specifically them, led to more background arguing and notes of disgust. Peter held back a laugh – he had thought that Wade’s persistent crush on Spider-man may have been something that happened in more than just their corner of the multiverse.

“We’ve had our differences, I guess,” Peter 41968 said, slowly, “but we didn’t really interact that much before, um… well. It was a whole thing.” Peter 1089-B raised an eyebrow, and around them, some of the other Spider people had stopped arguing, not-so-subtly stopping to listen in. “I was – still am – working for Tony Stark.” This sparked a few grumbles from the mostly red and blue peanut gallery. “Some other employees were stealing tech to sell to random lowlifes to fund their weird parkour vigilante team,”

“- but Tony Stark thought you were stealing from the company because you have horrible luck?” Spider-man from Earth 616 guessed.

“And also because you’re probably broke and was maybe stealing some stuff for your suit?” a rather intense black-ops version of Spider-man asked.

“…Well, yes, but he hired Deadpool to you know, see if my civilian identity was up to something and, well…”

Peter 1089-B nodded. “You started to develop feelings for him and now you’re worried you won’t be able to see him again if things don’t work out?” There was a pregnant pause, before Peter 41968 very slowly nodded his head. He put his arm around the other’s shoulder consolingly, preparing himself to say something sensitive and brusque enough that someone as emotionally constipated as most Peter Parkers were apparently would be able to take it.

Before he could, however, another spider-man spoke up. “Wait. Feelings? How… What about MJ?” a few others murmured in agreement, while some more were still held up on the thought of Deadpool and romance going together at all.

“What about MJ?” Peter shot back, between the two of them, he was most likely older and had more experience fielding the negative reactions people had when they found out he and Deadpool were involved, and it was making him protective despite himself.

“She’s… well, I mean…” Peter from Earth 616 shot a look to an alternate version of Mary Jane who was, currently, in her Spider-woman suit. Her arms were crossed and she looked unimpressed, despite her mask. “In a decent amount of universes where Peter Parker is Spider-man and Mary Jane is also in that universe and not, you know…” He gestured to her. “they – we – tend to…”

“Be rather consistently connected,” said the Superior Spider-man, who sounded annoyed and bitter, but to be fair sounded that way about most things.

“Good theory,” Peter pointed out, smiling again, “but that does leave out one important part of the equation?”

“Which is?”

“Peter Parker could be gay, or at least, not straight.”

“Wh – I mean. I guess?” Peter from 616 curled a hand over his chin in thought. “In all the ways we’re different, I guess I just didn’t think about that possibility that much.”

“Anyone can be Spider-man,” said the one wearing spikes and a denim jacket. “Peter Parkers seem predisposed to it for whatever reason, but no matter what their race, sex, or age, we can put on the suit and fight battles that need to be won. It makes sense that sexual orientation could change, too.”

“And that’s why you’re with Deadpool?” another Spider-man asked.

“I’m not with Deadpool because I like guys, I like women too. In another universe a few degrees removed from your own, the Peter Parker of Earth 1089-B dated MJ, got together with a few other supers, and settled down with our dear friend Wade Wilson. Permanently.”

“Permanently?” Peter 41968 asked.

“Well, assuming neither of us does something stupid enough to warrant a divorce.”

“You got married?!” Peter from 616 asked. “To Deadpool?!”

“If he kills people, doesn’t that go against some moral code?” A younger spider-woman with a white and black suit said. “I mean I’m not exactly straight either, but…”

“It depends on the moral code this Spider-man has,” said the black ops one, darkly.

“He used to kill,” Peter said, “he hasn’t for years. That was something we had to work on.”

“Oh please,”

“Deadpool is crazy, but he can be clever too, at some point you know he –”

“You mean you could have been with MJ and you left her for –”

“Enough!” Peter 616 and the Superior Spider-man shouted at once.

“Being blinded by relationships and this pointless nattering will do nothing but bring us closer to death,” the latter snarled.

“This has nothing to do with the actual pressing matters at hand,” Peter 616 continued, much more levelly, “which is stopping the Inheritors before they end all of us, and then it won’t matter who we have waiting at home for us. Got it?” He stared at Peter for a moment as the others muttered their agreements and slowly went back to the groups they had been huddling in.

“Got it,” Peter said. “Alright then, chief, any ideas?”

“Well –” He glanced back at Peter 41968 before tugging his mask back on. Hopefully the kid would be alright.

-

“Oh God, I need to sleep for a week. No, two weeks.”

“A month,” Peter said, raising his arm weekly. Peter 41968 was doing a pathetic job of dragging him to the waiting portal that would take him back to his dimension, but he knew he’d be flat on his face if he tried to move without help, so he didn’t talk back.

They had defeated the Inheritors by locking them in an alternate universe that had been effectively destroyed by radioactive fallout – one of their only weaknesses. Presumably it would only hold for a million years, but Peter wasn’t going to be around to deal with that fallout, so he figured that was about as good as they could hope for.

“I’m glad you made it,” the other Peter said. “And that you get to see Wade again.”

“Hah, thanks. I’m sure he would have done some weird dimension hopping of his own otherwise – with even more disastrous results.” Other Spiders were saying goodbye and vanishing off to where they belonged, a few others having small reunions with each other. They both waved at a few of them that they had fought alongside before they went home.

“Do you really think that… it could work – in my universe?” Peter glanced over. Both of them had sizeable tears in their masks and suits, identical brown hair and dark eyes poking out from the holes.

“I think that a lot of different Deadpools can become really great friends and teammates to a lot of different Spider people. Us Peters act kind of similar, whether we want to admit it or not.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Really, I think you just have to decide for yourself if that’s what you want. Being with Wade definitely brought in a lot of unique challenges, stuff that never happened when I was with Gwen, Or MJ, or some other people…” Peter frowned. “I hate to say it, but I think the main point I’m trying to get across is going to be a ‘Follow your heart,’ sort of idea, you know?”

The other Peter groaned. “That’s such a cop out!”

Peter laughed. “Sorry. Ow.” The jostling was definitely not going well with the major ass kicking he had at the hands of the Inheritors half an hour prior. Peter 41968 was also beat up, but still managed to take pity on him. He hefted his arm higher over his shoulders and started moving again.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

-

Wade wasn’t just waiting in their apartment – he was at the door. “Spidey? That you?” he asked, rough voice uncharacteristically delicate. Peter limped through the doorway and tore off what remained of his mask.

“It’s me, Wade.” He was immediately surrounded in a strong embrace, making his aching ribs creak and his overworked lungs strain for air. “T-Too tight.”

“I don’t care. Where the hell did you go?”

“Multiverse fight. Psychic vampires… trying to kill… every Spider-man. Trapped them in another dimension…” Wade pulled back, and Peter coughed. “Apparently, every spider person makes up the center of the universe.”

“Well, duh, I could have told you that.” Peter huffed out a laugh.

“Am I allowed to shower and go lay down?” he asked. Wade nodded, but didn’t let go of the loose grasp he held Peter in. “Wade?”

“I just can’t believe you got to meet dozens of other Peters at once,” Wade said. “Do you know how many morally bankrupt things I would do to get the chance?”

Peter snorted, then winced at his entire body protested the motion. “Believe me, it’s not exactly a sleepover when you’re being chased by a host of unkillable monsters.”

“Other Deadpools?”

“Wade!” Peter batted his arms away and made his way to the bathroom. “I guess some of them were pretty cool – and it wasn’t just Peters, either.” He frowned. “Most of them didn’t exactly hold you in the highest regard, though.”

“You brought me up?”

“Actually… this other Peter did first. It sounds like he and his Wade are in the middle of some romcom nonsense.”

“And what universe was this? Just… for future reference.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“That Peter has to figure things out for himself just like we had to. I wished him luck, and anyway, it sounds like he’s half gone on that version of you already. Once he’s back in his dimension and the two of them go on some wacky adventure, I’m sure they’ll be falling into each other’s arms in no time.”

“That sounds pretty optimistic.”

Peter shrugged. “Hey, I just survived and got to fight with a bunch of other Spider people. I might need to sleep off a rib fracture, but I’m in high spirits.” At the mention of sleeping off another fracture, Wade groaned.

“What did I tell you about –”

“I said physic vampires!!”

-

Peter from Earth 41968 used the last of his strength to web himself up to the ledge of his second story room and pry open the window. He tugged off his most likely trashed uniform, plugged his phone in, and promptly passed out for the next twelve hours.

When he woke up, he washed away his scrapes and blood that may have been his, shared breakfast with Aunt May so she wouldn’t worry, and went back to his room to start on some of his schoolwork.

When he checked his phone, he saw some messages from MJ and Ned, and a few from Wade, who had asked where he was since he had missed last night’s patrol.

Peter contemplated his answer. Would Wade be impressed that he had gone on his own multiverse adventure? He could even mention there was a Peter who not only liked his universe’s Wade, but also got married to him. That was good for a laugh if nothing else, right?

Except, he still wasn’t sure how close Wade wanted to be with him. He had done something awful, even if it may have been justified at the time, done to protect his identity from someone he didn’t know if he could completely trust, he now looked back on the last few months with complete embarrassment. Wade seemed to enjoy his company, but only as a friend. He didn’t know if it would ever grow beyond that, even if Peter couldn’t  stop wondering  what that other Peter’s life was like, how… special his relationship had to be with Wade to speak of him so fondly.

He chewed on his lip, brain looping with endless thoughts and questions he couldn’t know the answer to. Finally, he replied to Wade’s message:

Yeah, sorry, got caught up with a secret project. Maybe next week.

He’d tell Wade when he was ready. All the details, about the fight and the multiverse and Earth 1089-B.

Just. Not yet.