Chapter Text
i
Tobio’s been in the superhero game for a little while now, so yeah, he’s used to dealing with all sorts of shit on the daily, but no one—and he genuinely means not a fucking soul—warned him that being bit by a radioactive spider at age seventeen would lead to being a twenty-one year old broke university student, who’s barely able to pay bills, and stressed out by his normal life already, who then has to fight off a fucking alien invasion in down town Tokyo.
He was supposed to be the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, not the friendly ‘oh sure, lemme just stop that giant space laser from burning down your neighbourhood’ Spider-Man.
And those goddamn Avengers. It’s all style points with those posers. He can see Oikawa Tooru right now in the corner of his eye, theatrically falling from a building as his Iron Man armour encases him like this was a bloody movie, thrusters turning on at the very last second.
See. Total poser.
Okay, maybe he’s kinda cool, and Tobio would kill to be anything like him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still be a poser. A rich, charismatic, unbelievably smart poser.
Tobio’s spidey sense tingles, and he ducks, just barely in time for a large slab of concrete to go flying over his head. Oh so now the aliens are throwing apartment complexes, the inconsiderate shits. Don’t they know how much rent is in this godforsaken city?
“Uh-oh, someone’s gettin’ real sloppy.”
Tobio instantly tenses at the smooth drawl that comes from behind him. For christ’s sake. As if an alien invasion wasn’t enough to deal with, now he has to put up with him of all people.
He turns on his heel, coming face to face—well, mask to mask technically—with Deadpool, who’s standing there, katana-wielding hands on his hips, “Yer spidey-sense not as sharp as usual or somethin’?”
Tobio rolls his eyes, wishing there was some way for the action to translate through his mask, “Don’t tell me you’re the reason we have otherworldly beings chewing through the Skytree.”
D.P chortles, loud, and brash, and so not appropriate for this sort of situation, “Oh come on, how could ya’ possibly think I coulda caused this?”
“You have your ways.” Tobio frowns, “You also have a knack for getting yourself in trouble. It’s almost like you’re looking for it on purpose.”
Deadpool gasps dramatically—obviously since it’s him—and tosses a hand over his chest, clutching at the leather of his suit, “Yer breakin’ my heart here sweetums, ain’t I been an honourable man to ya?”
“Oh for god’s sake.” Tobio sighs a heavy sigh, looking up to the heavens, wondering what the hell he’d done in his past life to be straddled with this loud-mouthed, annoying guy.
Said loud-mouthed, annoying guy is continuing his monologue, completely tuned out from the destruction going on around them. Like always.
Guess Tobio is going to have to do all the heavy lifting. Also, like always.
He weaves a path around his complaining companion, fighting off weird, neon-coloured alien blasters, and webbing hordes of invaders to lampposts, all the while getting an earful of nonsense.
“Ain’t I saved yer life countless times? Ain’t I provided for ya?”
It’s actually ridiculous how long D.P. can blather on and on for.
Tobio rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time, forming a large web to catch civilians jumping from their apartments as the Hulk creates a path of havoc, catching one of the spaceships and smashing it into the earth beneath his feet. Looks like Iwaizumi’s really getting into it today.
“Are you done yet?” He shouts over his shoulder, straining as he tries to hold up a falling pillar so a few straddlers can escape the wreckage.
Deadpool spins on his heel to face him, slashing through an alien who, clearly, thought it was sneaking up on him, “Well, m’sorry, Spidey-kun, ain’t a man allowed ta’ express his complaints, ‘round here?”
“Not if that man is you, D.P.”
“God, yer so cruel to me!”
Deadpool looks as though he’s about to launch into yet another over-the-top, badly-acted, and, quite frankly, bothersome, little sermon of his woes when a loud crack sounds in the air, and the building behind them begins to fall, debris raining down like hellfire.
Tobio’s body moves on autopilot, webs lashing out to grab D.P and drag him out of the blast zone. Their figures go tumbling back as he pulls sharply, landing them in a safe area, friction burning through his suit thanks to the concrete beneath him.
Tobio groans, head throbbing from the sharp impact against the ground, hand aimlessly patting at the weight settled along his torso, “Are you okay, Deadpool?”
The weight shifts and Tobio blinks the bleariness away from his eyes to come face to face—again, mask to mask, but you get the point—with D.P. who is breathing heavy, propped up onto his palms.
From the way his mask shifts, Tobio already knows that motherfucker is smirking.
“I’m real great. Don’tcha know I’m literally unkillable?” The merc says, his tone all too mischievous for Tobio’s liking. He leans in, lowering his voice into a hushed whisper that feels hot against Tobio’s ear, “This feels like it was an elaborate plot ta’ get under me. I ain’t complainin’ though; ya’ look real pretty down there.”
Tobio does not blush. It doesn’t matter if his face feels warm and every point of contact he has with D.P. right now sears as if they’re on fire. None of it means he blushed, and no one can prove otherwise.
“Oh shut up.” He shoves D.P. off himself, ignoring the literal squawk of indignation he lets out.
“Is that how ya’ treat a fair maiden ya’ just rescued.”
Tobio scoffs, “Please, you’re not fair, and you’re certainly no maiden.”
He takes in the destruction before him, watching as Oikawa flies by at high speeds, chased by an alien on one of those little flying platform things. Something explodes in the distance before a crackle of lightning breaks out through the clouds and Bokuto comes crashing down from the heavens, wielding that sick hammer of his.
It seems there is a lot more work to be done.
Tobio sighs, before turning back and looking down at Deadpool, “Are you done? Can I go do my job now?”
“Well, actually—”
“Great, see you around.” Tobio jumps, climbing up the side of a building as he swiftly cuts D.P. off, “Or maybe not. Hopefully the latter.”
Deadpool scrambles onto his feet rather quickly in Tobio’s peripheral vision, throwing up his arms and letting out a cry of “Wait!”
Tobio performs an acrobatic loop on nearby lamppost, hanging upside down with what must be physical question marks spinning around his head, because Deadpool launches into his next sentence the second he knows he has Tobio’s attention.
“Can’t I at least know my saviour’s name?”
Oh. Well that’s unexpected.
Tobio frowns, trying to block out the sounds of sirens and firing in the background, accompanied by Hulk’s distant roars and the distinct sound of Iron Man’s repulsors charging up to blast.
He can’t go around sharing his real name with just about anybody—that’s reckless. And well, D.P. is…perhaps not the sort of guy who Tobio trusts all that much. He sighs, flipping so he’s balancing on the cool metal of the post.
“Sorry, D.P, your saviour,” he says with a little sarcasm dripping from his tongue, “wishes to remain anonymous.”
Deadpool scrambles forwards, “Well, if he’ll just hear me out, m’sure I’ll have him convinced otherwise soon enough.”
Tobio pretends to mull it over, slightly endeared by the way D.P hangs off his every word and gesture and pretend thought.
Maybe he should put him out of his misery.
Or maybe…
“No can do! He’s a busy man with a alien infested city on his hands.”
With that Tobio swings off into the distance, chucking at the faint cry of ‘you’ll tell me next time, Spidey-kun’.
Deadpool may be a whole lot of trouble, but he’s never boring, that’s for sure. With his absurd way of thinking, his nonsensical speeches, his obsession with katanas, his smooth, Kansai dialect, and his ability to always, always, knock Tobio off his feet—he’s quite the character.
Tobio can’t help but wonder what shit he’s going to pull next time.