Chapter Text
Peter Parker loved to pace. The New York City real estate market was not exactly conducive to this. So when he inevitably ran out of room in his shoebox apartment, he sometimes took to the ceiling and walls. This was how Wade found him, dangling from the ceiling with a trail of footprints displacing the dust behind him.
“Everything okay, baby boy?”
Peter startled at the sound of another person in his apartment, dropping to the floor. Before he could hit the ground, Wade stuck out his arms, instinctively catching Peter in a bridal hold.
[Ooh, romantic!]
[With this face? Not a chance.]
“How’d you get in here?” Peter asked, detaching himself from Wade’s arms and landing softly on the worn wooden floor.
“You left the window unlocked.”
Peter furrowed his brow, staring into Wade’s face. Or, rather, into the white spaces in his mask that hid his eyes from view. “I live on the seventeenth story.”
“I climbed,” Wade said with a shrug. “What’s New York without a ridiculous walk-up? ‘Sides, I gotta exercise those glutes! Not all of us can be blessed with a perfect butt like you are. Anyway, you only really walk on walls when you’re stressed. What’s up?”
Peter sighed, plopping on his bed. “We’ll get back to you breaking and entering later. But eight months ago, I was dating Felicia, right?”
[Ugh. What a bitch.]
[Don’t be sexist.]
“It’s not sexist if it’s true,” Wade grumbled. “What’d that bitch do now?”
“She hasn’t done anything, at least to my knowledge. But, well, eight months ago I might have RSVP’d to a wedding saying that I was bringing a plus-one. A wedding that is… next weekend.”
Wade sat down next to him, lying back like he was perfectly at ease in Peter’s bed. “So? It’s not the end of the world to show up alone to a wedding. Hell, I’ve crashed plenty of weddings all by myself.”
“See, that’s what I was thinking. But…” Peter trailed off, chewing his lip nervously. It’s my exes' wedding.”
“Bride or groom?”
Peter groaned. “Brides.”
“Brides? Like, plural?” Wade shot up, suddenly looking extremely interested in the conversation.
“What, don’t tell me you’re suddenly against gay marriage?” Peter joked nervously, chewing his bottom lip.
“Peter,” Wade said seriously. “Are you telling me that both of the brides are your exes?” Peter nodded morosely before flinging himself back against his pillows and burrowing into the covers. “That is so fucking funny, oh my god!” Peter let out another loud groan of frustration at Wade’s cackling, blindly chucking a pillow at Wade’s face. Wade caught the pillow easily, resting it on his lap. “Sorry, sorry. Well, not that sorry, it is really fucking funny. But you’re right, there’s no way you can show up to that wedding alone.”
Peter pushed himself back up, reclining slightly on his arms with a slow grin overtaking his face. “You could pretend to be my date.”
“What?” Wade’s expression of disbelief was visible even through the mask, his eyebrows clearly raised and his lips forming a slight grimace.
“I talk about you all the time!” Peter gushed, sitting up excitedly and grabbing Wade’s arm. “I doubt MJ would even be surprised, she’d definitely believe it. She’s been so busy with the wedding that she’ll think the update just slipped through the cracks! Gwen might take a bit more convincing, but you can act like you’re in love with me, right?”
Wade snorted. “Believe me, that won’t be a problem.”
“So you’ll come with me? Please?” Peter’s face brightened, his wide eyes gleaming hopefully.
[Is he pouting? Like, actually pouting right now?]
Wade narrowed his eyes, pausing as if deeply considering the question. “Only if you do something for me.”
Peter released his hold on Wade, placing his hands on his hips instead and cocking his head. “No sex stuff. And no killing.”
“Spidey, come on, you know I’d never extort you for sex. But if I’m coming with you to the wedding, you’re coming with me to Ellie’s birthday party. In the suit! I want those other second-graders to be jealous as hell of my perfect little angel.” Wade crossed his arms, and Peter tried not to stare at the way his biceps bulged in the suit.
“You know I would’ve gone anyway, right? I already have her present ready, and Ellie is, like, the coolest. Definitely the coolest six-year-old girl I know, at the very least.”
“I mean, duh, she’s half-me. What’d you get her?” Wade was very nearly bouncing on the bed in excitement, about one step from clapping his hands together. Peter mimed locking his lips and throwing out the key. “C’mon, tell me! Tell me!”
“I’m not telling you, you’ll spoil the surprise. Plus, you’ll get jealous.”
Wade scoffed. “I’m not gonna be jealous of my own daughter, Spidey. And she shares her toys if you ask nicely. It’s like you’ve never even played Transformers with her.”
“You’re definitely going to be jealous. It’s really cool,” Peter hummed.
“Is it hidden somewhere in your apartment?” Wade glanced around, searching for any hiding spaces in the cramped studio. Between the handful of kitchen cabinets, Peter’s small dresser, and the little bit of space under the bed, there weren’t many places something secret could be stashed in. “I bet I can find it, this place is tiny.”
“No snooping, ‘Pool,” Peter reprimanded. “I gave it to Carmelita already specifically so that you couldn’t find it. For a mercenary, you are awfully predictable.”
“Only when it comes to you, Webs.”
Peter pursed his lips thoughtfully, inhaling deeply. “You’ll have to cool it with the nicknames at the wedding. Most of the guests don’t know my secret identity, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“No problemo, Petey-Pie. I’ve got plenty of Peter-Parker-based, kosher alternatives in my back pocket. But don’t you think walking around with a spandex-clad date might draw some attention to you?”
“I was sort of hoping you’d go suit-less for the weekend…” Peter winced. “If that’s cool with you?”
“Wait, weekend?”
“I, uh, may or may not be in the bridal party?” Peter admitted. “So, yeah, Friday night rehearsal dinner, Saturday wedding, and Sunday brunch. It also might be a destination wedding…”
“I feel like I should’ve asked more questions before agreeing to this,” Wade sighed. “But, whatevs, I’m totes a man of my word. Where are we headed?”
“Narragansett,” Peter told him. “They’ve booked an adorable little inn for the whole weekend, all we need to do is show up. And, well, act like we’re in love.”
“Ooh, is this gonna be a classic Spideypool road trip?”
Peter’s forehead drew tight in confusion. “We’ve never taken a road trip before, and, honestly, I don’t even have a driver’s license. Or a car. I was planning on just taking the train.”
Wade exhaled over-exaggeratedly. “Fine, if you insist… I’ll drive. BUT! I pick the tunes and the snacks. You just supply your sexy-ass self.”
[Cool it, Freddy Krueger.]
“Not what I was angling at, but that actually sounds great.” Peter shot Wade a lopsided smile, the tension leaving his shoulders as it became clear that Wade was willing to put up with this admittedly stupid plan. “Do you already have a suit on hand? And a swimsuit if you’d like, we’ll be right by the beach.”
[ Yeah, ‘cuz we’re really known for our beach body. ]
[Okay, but consider: Spidey in a swimsuit.]
[I bet he can pull off a Speedo.]
“Of course he can pull off a Speedo,” Wade said, before shifting his attention back to Peter. “And, yeah, I’ve got a suit. Do I need a tux for the ceremony?”
“It’s black-tie optional, so up to you. I’ll be wearing one, though.”
[ Ooh, Spidey in a tux! ]
“I bet you look adorable in it. Like you’re playing dress-up,” Wade joked, nudging Peter with his shoulder.
“I know you’re used to seeing me in spandex, but I am actually a grown adult. I mean, I’m almost thirty. I feel like the word adorable doesn’t really fit.”
Wade gasped as he had a sudden realization. “Wait, if you’re in the bridal party, do you have to match with the bridesmaids?” Peter’s blush meant a resounding yes. “That’s so, totally adorable. What color tie do you have to wear?”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “I’m not telling you, you’re gonna make fun of me. You’ll find out at the wedding.”
“This totally sounds like the start of a cheesy rom-com,” Wade pointed out.
“For the millionth time, our lives are not a rom-com. And I’d like to think we could pull off an action movie, anyway. I mean, we do have powers and fight crime,” Peter replied.
“Nope, this is definitely a rom-com. I can practically see Jennifer Lopez playing me now.”
[Aren’t we more of a Ryan Reynolds type? But, like, fucked up.]
Wade nodded in agreement. “Okay, White’s right. I’m Ryan Reynolds. I guess that makes you Jennifer Lopez?”
“Why would either of us be a girl in this scenario?” Peter asked.
“Because Hollywood’s not as progressive as AO3,” Wade said as if that were an actual explanation.
“Fine,” Peter agreed. “I’ll be Jennifer Lopez.”
—
Peter’s duffle bag was nearly bursting at the seams. Actually, many of the seams had actually burst partially after years of overuse. The bag had been haphazardly webbed all over the city in the decade since he had become Spider-man, abused by years of sun, rain, and snow.
How did he even have this much stuff? His tuxedo and suit were in separate garment bags, so he couldn’t fathom how he had managed to stuff the duffle bag to the brim. Just when he was debating unpacking some of it, he jumped at an obnoxiously loud honk from outside his window.
He leaned his head out the window so he could shout at Deadpool and tell him he was coming down, but Wade was still holding down the horn. After another 20 seconds or so, the other cars on the street joined in on the honking, although now they were all signaling angrily at Wade.
“Crap,” Peter muttered, quickly grabbing all of his things and rushing out the door, desperate to prevent Wade from getting punched in the face by some idiot on the street. Well, some other idiot on the street.
Peter made it to the lobby of his building in only 1 minute and 33 seconds - new record! - and was out the door in a flash. Glaring at Wade, he flung open the car door, sliding in quickly to avoid conflict with the various New Yorkers staring down the pair, and tossing his stuff in the backseat of the car. “Are you a fucking idiot?”
“Missed you too, baby boy!” Wade grinned, finally relenting his hold on the horn so he could pull out of the parking spot.
“I swear, sometimes you try your absolute hardest to get yourself in trouble.”
Wade glanced at him, before returning his eyes to the road. To Peter’s surprise, he was already out of the mask, though he did have a thick hood pulled over his head. “It would be a shame to waste such a damn fine healing factor, Petey-Pie. ‘Sides, you wanted a date that wouldn’t get you in trouble, you should’ve asked Matt.”
“Matt’s too broody to spend an entire weekend with. He’s like Batman, you’re more like…” Peter trailed off. “Kite Man?”
“I’m more like a kite-based minor supervillain?” Wade shifted in his seat, shooting Peter a tight-lipped, confused look out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, he’s the best character in Harley Quinn and everybody knows it,” Peter argued, smiling slightly. “And it’s better than being, like, Doctor Psycho or something.”
“I’ll take what I can get, then. Anyway, snacks are behind you! I brought Milk Duds, Laffy Taffy, and Circus Peanuts. Ooh, and Pez.”
Peter frowned, pulling the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth. “That is literally the worst collection of candies I have ever heard.”
[Hey, some of us actually like Circus Peanuts.]
“Aah, but you failed to consider that the Pez dispensers are Deadpool and Spider-man themed!” Wade responded, popping open the center console and pulling out the matching dispensers, attempting to prop them up on the dashboard while keeping his eyes on the road.
Peter’s brows contorted. “Do they even make Deadpool Pez dispensers? You’re not an Avenger.”
“You’re one to talk! You’re only, like, half an Avenger.”
[To be fair, they don’t make Deadpool Pez dispensers.]
“Okay, fine, it was a custom commission,” Wade admitted. “Happy?”
Peter sighed exaggeratedly, shuffling around to kick his feet up on the dashboard and narrowly missing the Pez dispensers that were stationed there. “I’d be happier with some edible snacks.”
“Well if you’re twisting my arm…” Wade trailed off. “Then I suppose we’ll have to stop for tacos in a bit. But you’re paying, babe.”
[Getting in character already?]
Peter grinned, either ignoring or choosing not to mention the pet name. “Deal.”
—
3 and a half hours, an appalling amount of Dolly Parton, and one taco stop later, Peter and Wade arrived at the small inn on the waterfront. The mid-afternoon sun was still high above the horizon, casting long shadows across the beach. Peter heaved himself out of the car, stretching his sore legs. He leaned down to touch his toes, twisting his back easily to help crack it.
Wade whistled loudly, causing Peter to stand up straight and glare at him. “Don’t stop on my account, baby! I’m just admiring how flexible you are.”
“Peter?” A familiar voice called out from the overhang covering the inn entrance. “You made it!” Gwen ran out from the shade, throwing her arms around Peter’s neck and dragging him into a hug. Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders automatically, trying to keep them both from toppling over. Wade busied himself with the bags, carrying them into the inn.
“Hi, Gwenny. How’s the lovely bride-to-be?” He pulled back slightly, bracing himself against the car with one arm and using his other hand to shield his face from the sun.
She smiled brightly. “MJ’s great. She’s showering right now, but I’m sure she’d love to see her best man afterward! We weren’t expecting you ‘till later tonight.”
Peter shoved her shoulder lovingly. “I was asking about you, Gwen. It’s your special day too, you know!”
“I’m great, really. But I’d rather talk about the guy you brought with you,” she leaned in close, lowering her voice and side-eyeing Wade where he was carrying their luggage into the inn. “Who’s the hunk?”
Peter blushed furiously. “That’s Wade.”
Gwen’s eyes widened in shock. “Deadpool?” She whispered, smacking him lightly across the chest. “Good for you two! I’m glad to see you finally pulled your head out of your ass.”
“What do you mean?” Peter asked, his brow furrowing.
“Based on what MJ told me, it sounds like the two of you have been playing relationship chicken for over a year!” She shot him a soft, reassuring smile. “You deserve this, Peter. A real relationship. I’m guessing things didn’t work out with Felicia, but…” she paused, glancing at Wade again. He waved at the two of them eagerly. “It seems like that may have been for the best.”
Peter smiled lopsidedly in response, before beckoning Wade back over to the car. “Hey, Wade! Come meet Gwen.”
Wade jogged over, wrapping his arm around Peter’s narrow shoulders nonchalantly and pulling him into his side. He extended his free arm to offer up a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Gwen. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Gwen shook his hand. “Well, I will say that your reputation precedes you, Wade. I don’t really mind the whole mercenary thing, but no killing at my wedding, ‘kay?” She cocked her head to the side innocently, her blonde ponytail swinging with the motion, but Peter could hear the underlying threat in her voice.
“I wouldn’t dare!” Wade exclaimed. “Cross my heart. I didn’t even bring my guns! Or Bea and Arthur.”
“He is very attached to his swords,” Peter said, interlocking his hand with the one Wade had draped over his shoulder and leaning closer into his side. “So that means something.”
“Katanas, babe,” Wade corrected, his thumb rubbing small (very, very, distracting) circles on the back of Peter’s hand. Gwen watched the exchange through narrowed eyes.
“You two are awfully lovey-dovey,” she pointed out. “Still in the honeymoon phase, huh? Say, how long did you say you’ve been dating, anyway?”
Peter and Wade exchanged a nervous look before Wade decided to speak. “Six months,” he told her. “Scooped him up right after Felicia made the mistake of letting him go.”
“Aw, babe!” Peter batted Wade’s chest flirtatiously with his free hand, trying not to cringe at how over-the-top the action felt. He wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, but he and Wade had agreed that it was probably the easiest way to convince everyone else that they were a genuine, bonafide couple.
Gwen wrinkled her nose. “Gross. Anyway, I should get going. Peter, make sure you’re on time for the rehearsal dinner tonight - 6:30 on the dot at the little restaurant right across the street. You’re in charge of MJ’s parents. I’m begging you, keep them away from each other. And do not, under any circumstance, let her mother drink. I literally cannot stress that enough. If you need to physically rip a wine glass out of her hand, you have my blessing.”
“Ay ay, captain,” Peter said, mock saluting. Unwrapping himself from Wade’s hold but keeping their hands connected, he began to lead them inside. “We should get settled,” he told Gwen as they walked away. “See you at dinner!”
Wade passed him the key to the room, having checked in at some point while Peter was chatting with Gwen. “Nice work, team.”
Peter smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently before finally letting it go. “You’re a natural. Keep it up at the rehearsal dinner, and we’ll have ‘em fooled for sure.”