Chapter Text
Wade wasn’t going to lie to you and say he didn’t know how he got here.
He isn’t a liar. Most of the time. Sometimes. Okay, maybe he is pretty reliant on the prospect of lying your ass off to get around, but this is not one of those times and he will attest to that a million times over. A: Lying doesn’t really help him right now. And B: It’s because he knew exactly how he got here. He can tell the story of exactly how he got here pretty well.
Wade’s got a friend. Weasel. He is a total idiot. But sadly enough, he was Wade’s total idiot, and Wade was also a total idiot. So they had the tendency to enable each other with both of their total idiot-nesses.
Weasel the first total idiot insisted there was some guy at Sister Margaret’s who had a lead on a job he was taking. It paid a shit ton for just reconnaissance, and even more for the actual job part of the job itself, so Wade had been desperate for anything and of course the bartender with the savior complex came to his aid. It was a big dude who drank too much and spoke too much when he drank, so Weasel did his name the necessary justice and weaseled some supposedly important info out of him.
The mission? Deadpool had been hired to spy on and take down a branch of powerful pedophile-looking guys who worked for none other than Kingpin himself. That son of a bitch.
Muscled drunk guy at the bar said that he’d spotted some black suit goons at an abandoned donut shop just around the corner of Hell’s Kitchen, and upon hearing this relayed information from Weasel, Wade remembered wanting to slap the shit out of everything within his vicinity because somehow every job he took landed him back somewhere in the great place that is Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan.
They needed to get their crime sorted. Like, really. It was getting bad.
So, yeah. Where was he right now, you ask?
Standing, with his right arm detached and cradled in his left arm, a lot of blood gushing down his leather-clad sides, outside of what used to be an abandoned donut shop just around the corner of Hell’s Kitchen and is now a pile of rubble and fire with the pleasure of having one or two dead ninja bodies decorating the decimated concrete wall.
Don’t ask. The fight got pretty bad. Turns out trying to Ruby Roundhouse flirt with evil ninjas as banter wasn’t the best idea.
Well, to sum it up short, Wade was injured, bleeding out, and still had no information nor any clue what more to do. He was at the crossroads of all crossroads.
He needed help, as much as he hated to admit it, however his multitude of superhero besties probably wouldn’t do it. You know, the classic holier-than-thou complex all of them had at least a little bit of. He could name names, at this point. Iron Man. Captain America. Wolverine. Cable. Spider-Man.
Yeesh. He had a type.
Well, except one. And Wade humbly agreed with himself when he said that they were the perfect one to think about.
As he gracefully decided to walk home, since no sane cab driver would let him bleed all over their nice seats, it was decided in his head. Honestly? Wade was really excited. Because this was a pretty close friend, whom he hadn’t spoken to in ages. Probably because he didn’t want to speak to Wade. But who did? And it would be a really awesome team-up, if he said yes.
He took a deep breath and squealed excitedly.
Matt heard Wade’s footsteps tapping, coming towards the door of the firm, almost immediately.
He was skipping . The lawyer almost laughed at that, if he weren’t in the middle of something relatively important right now. Currently, he was in the middle of talking payment plans out with the latest employee of the firm, and while seeing Wade always — strangely enough — turned out to be its own breed of pleasure, Matt couldn’t deal with it right now. There were more important things to be done, after all.
But the footsteps were getting louder and louder and continually harder to ignore. Matt wrinkled his nose and cleared his throat right in the middle of an important sentence, and his employee almost immediately took notice.
“Mr. Murdock, are you alright? Do you need anything?” He asked.
The lawyer shook his head with a small smile. “I’m fine. I don’t need anything, thank you. And like I told you, kid, here at this firm we push the formalities aside. To you, I’ll be known as Matt, and Foggy is Foggy, and Karen is Karen. None of that Mr. and Ms. stuff, okay?”
“I’m twenty-four.” The employee muttered.
“I think I’m going to call you kid anyways.” Matt joked. “And because you’re genuinely the youngest employee we have.”
He sighed from across the desk. “Is it because I look prepubescent? Not the first time I’ve heard that before.”
“I wouldn’t know, wouldn’t I?” The lawyer raised an eyebrow at the employee, chuckled briefly, and made a point to gesture at his eyes, concealed behind tinted red sunglasses and creasing with his smile. The man across from him gasped slightly and Matt almost started laughing as he choked out the words I’m so sorry about a million times over and over. The lawyer pointedly assured him all was well and he was making a lighthearted joke.
“I’m still sorry.” He squeaked out.
Matt chuckled. “Don’t be. Anyways, about your payment, it’s by the hour and based on your preference on working hours, if that’s an alright arrangement. If it’s not, I can make adjustments—”
He cut himself off as the doorknob turned. His employee didn’t seem to notice and assumed it was a silence for him to speak.
“No, no, I don’t think adjustments are necessary. It all sounds great, Matt—”
“Heya, Red! Are you in there? Matt-a-Rooney?” Wade burst in, rambling, only going silent seeing the man in the chair across from Matt.
Wade had heard the swirl of voices inside of the firm, like, ever since he got close to it. He just thought it would be really entertaining to cut the client Matt was seeing off mid-sentence, for dramatic effect. The firm looked as shitty as ever in its fluorescently lit glory, and Matthew Murdock himself was sitting, ever so formally and ever so lawyerly, behind his desk, across a total fucking cutie.
Wade had to do a double take. Which blessing of god was he currently coming face to face with?
Matt sighed. “Wade.”
The cutie in the client chair spun around furiously at the call of the mercenary’s name, a look on his face that Wade couldn’t pinpoint. He wasn’t sure if it was terror or shock or admiration, but it was definitely something and it was definitely adorable. He also had a better view of the client’s face as a whole, and it took everything in his power not to gawk.
Curly brown hair, big dark brown eyes with the faintest shimmer under the office lights, with the lightest dusting of freckles over his cheeks. He was wearing glasses , for goodness’ sake, the kind of glasses they wore in Korean dramas where the shape was round and the frames were thin. His were black framed, and they sat just on the tip of the bridge of nose, Wade immediately being able to tell that he forgot to regularly push them up to sit properly on his face.
Ultimately, he was giving off an aura of nerd. Huge nerd. But a cute kind of nerd. If the words cute and nerd even meshed all that well together.
Shit. Wade just remembered he didn’t have his suit on. Which also meant he didn’t have his mask on. Which also meant the hot nerd in the chair had to be looking at the hellspawn that was his face. His mangled, fruit-hatefuck face. Wade decided he was going to shoot himself after this went down after all. Because all his chances had been absolutely blown.
“Wade, if you’re just going to stand there and not say anything, please leave. You’re disturbing.” Matt said with an exasperated tone of voice.
“Uh-huh. Anyways,” The mercenary gestured towards Mr. Cutie-in-the-Chair. “Who’s this, Red?”
If Wade had been paying just a bit more attention, he might have noticed Matt grin and stifle a laugh from where he sat. Whatever that meant.
The lawyer cleared his throat. “That would be my newest employee. Peter Parker. Whose first day on the job you so graciously interrupted.”
Peter. Pete. Petey. That name rolled generously off the tongue. Peter Parker. That name was gut-wrenchingly, tooth-rotting-ly smooth on the tongue. Like chewing through a strawberry Hi-Chew. Wade didn’t know many people who were named Peter, however common the name seemed to be, and it was a welcome change in his life.
However, Peter with the good name was silent. Dead silent. Looked as if he had no clue what to say, or do, and was kind of just staring at Wade’s face with his jaw slightly dropped, and as pretty as he looked, the mercenary was getting quite insecure like this.
“Peter, this is Wade. You may know him as Deadpool. We’re acquainted.” Matt said.
“We’ve met.” Peter squeaked out in the tiniest voice. When Wade raised an eyebrow, because he’s sure as hell never met anyone like him, the brunette cleared his throat. “I mean, no, we haven’t, but I’ve heard of him. Like you said, he’s Deadpool. I – I know of Deadpool. Meeting him personally? Nope. Never. Not in my life. Except now, of course.”
Peter rambles. That’s so cute . Someone please shoot him right now.
Matt chuckled. “Well, I didn’t expect you to have met him.”
“Because I haven’t, yes.” Peter replied with a nervous laugh, eyeing Wade carefully.
“Anyways,” Matt interjected before Wade could say anything, “What are you here for, Wade? Anything you need?”
The mercenary took a glance at Peter before turning to the lawyer. “As much as I’d love to tell you, Matthew, I’m afraid it ain’t exactly a conversation we should be having in front of the cutie in the chair right here. For your sake more than mine.”
Peter flushed slightly at the name. Wade grinned.
Matt raised an eyebrow, before he quickly understood what Wade meant by that. “I see. Well, if that’s all, you should –”
“Great!” Wade cut him off cheerfully before turning to the firm’s latest employee sitting just in front of him. “So, Peter Piper. Lovely to meet you. Tell me about yourself.”
“It’s Parker, um–”
“Where are you from? What’s your favorite color? Favorite Clueless character? If you’ve seen it. And what brought you to this hellhole that Matthew calls his law firm?”
The vigilante gave him a displeased look from behind his desk. Wade decidedly returned it with the biggest grin he could muster. Like, corners of your mouth hurting kind of grin. The kind the kids in shitty Christmas movies used when their parents took those god awful polaroid photos that eventually ended up in some equally awful photobook.
“Um,” Peter began nervously. “I’m from Queens. I like the color blue. Favorite character’s Josh. And I, more or less, needed the job. Used to do freelance – like photography for the Bugle. Sold them a ton of pictures. But my boss didn’t pay all that well, so my aunt told me to ditch it and found this place and I just happened to have made it past the interview. Yep.”
Wade nodded solemnly. “Josh, huh? Yeah, I get it. Paul Rudd’s awesome. Colored Scott Lang in for me.”
He expected that to confuse Peter, but looking at his expression he practically blew past it. Huh. Not many people reacted that way to Wade’s frequent fourth wall breaking. Something started buzzing in the back of his head, like a feeling he couldn’t shake, but he wasn’t really sure what that was supposed to be. Well, whatever it was, it was weird. And uncomfortable. Like being edged, but also not really.
Peter was also no longer staring at him like he'd seen a ghost. So there was that.
“Mine’s Dionne. I aspire to be Dionne. I could go on for hours about Dionne without making any real point.” Wade remarked.
Peter laughed at that, actually laughed , and the mercenary’s heart gave a flutter. His laugh was gorgeous. “I will have to hold you to that sometime.”
“Nah. Your ear will probably fall off. Unless you like that, but I can’t say I like the feeling. It’s sticky, and you always feel like you’re missing something. You also fall over a lot. Like, a lot . Point is, you may not like that.”
He gave another laugh at Wade’s statement, somewhere in between raspy and honey-smooth and Wade wanted to cry over it.
“Oh, I’ll listen. Never have I heard a wiser opinion. Dionne is pretty underrated considering her level of iconic.” Peter stated solemnly.
Wade nodded frantically. “Exactly!”
“ Great .” Matt interjected coolly. “Glad we could come to an agreement. Glad you two met. Now can we please get back to our conversation, Peter? If you two don’t mind?”
Wade gritted his teeth when Peter cleared his throat and straightened up, eyes un-hazing like the conversation had never happened. Fuck you, Matt Murdock. Fuck you and your constant work mindset ruining his chances with a cute guy who happens to be able to keep up with his Clueless references and doesn’t mind the words that come out of his mouth.
“Right, right. Sorry. Pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Wade.” Peter remarked, tone reeking of politeness.
“Not every day do I meet a cute guy who says it’s a pleasure to meet me .” Wade wondered aloud. “Anyways, the pleasure is all mine. Is that what they say? I think it is.”
“It is.” The lawyer remarked impatiently, just as Peter opened his mouth to say something to that. “Goodbye, Wade. We’ll talk about what you presented later.”
Oh, right. The mission. Wade had forgotten there was a mission to be discussed between him and Matt in the first place. He’d wanted to come to Daredevil, since, well, Hell’s Kitchen was the Devil’s territory. Surely Red had scoped out the mob bosses that lingered beneath where he lay his head at night in the past, so working with him would be a definitive good decision.
But really all that was in his head right now was Peter, replaying their short conversation. All the good ole voices in his good ole head were calling him pathetic. At this point, Wade could not blame them.
“Right, my thing. Yep, yep. Cool, cool, cool. See ya later, then, Red.” Wade remarked, before turning from the lawyer to meet his employee’s gaze briefly. “Peter.”
“Bye.” Was all the brunette muttered, looking down.
Ouch. That kinda stung.
Wade turned to leave the building of the firm, and he feels like the only other times he’d felt this much of an urge to scream and giggle like a high schooler when their first ever crush walks by them in the hallways would be around Spidey. But he knew that chance was blown, and had been blown many times, and Peter was right there, and he should have asked for Peter’s number. Fuck. Fuck .
He’ll have to ask Matt. Which is kind of embarrassing.
There was a feeling pounding in his gut. Wade felt insane, more than usual. But he knew to ignore it or he’d obsess over it.
So it was going to be ignored, and he refused to regurgitate it.
Wade stepped out of the building and into the daylight to bask in that classic sixty degree weather to call it a day.