Chapter Text
Deadpool was kind of publically out there with his identity. It wasn’t like Stark-level of openness, but Stark was rich and could buy off any threats that came his way. Deadpool didn’t have money but he didn’t keep his identity a secret, so you could say he was an idiot. And you’d be correct. Literally the first day he met Spiderman he told him his real name.
“It’s Wilson by the way. Wade Wilson.”
“I don’t care,” Spiderman gave him a sharp look(something a person could tell even through a mask). It had been a rough first meeting with his new super-bestie, but he kept his hopes high.
“Something tells me you’re not going to tell me your name,”Wade sighed dramatically. “Can I guess? Walter? Dewey? Michael?”
They were whispering as they were perched on the ceiling beams of a gang’s warehouse. Wade was having a bit of trouble with the being quiet part. Why did he have to be good at stealth, huh? Usually, he just burst in guns blazing but apparently that was ‘reckless’ and ‘chaotic’ as Spiderman put it. Wade had actually ‘awwed’ at those two adjectives (“You know me so well, Spidey” “Don’t call me that”)
So yeah. Besties.
But other than kicking ass with an unwilling(but future partner in crime) Spider a couple times a week and doing mercenary jobs as well as keeping up a fanfic blog, his life gets kind of boring.
He gets kind of caught in the routine of being a mercenary, coming home to frozen chimichangas, and going out to pester Spidey. Besides that, his life is kind of empty. Sure, he has a cult following online and is friends with the guy who runs the taco truck, but something was missing from his life.
And that empty feeling in his stomach grew with every day until it was keeping him up at night.
But then one day everything changed.
He was at the grocery store in his full suit(but not the katanas because the owner had a thing against sharp knives) and everything, pushing around a too-full cart full of frozen dinners when he rushed into the chimichanga aisle for his ritual burrito stock-up. Of course, he had rounded the corner in a frenzy, going at full speed when he ran someone over.
“Sugar honey iced tea!” Wade gasped, pushing his cart to the side to help the poor guy who got plowed down. The man in question had only a little basket full of goodies that were now knocked to the floor. The man in question was wearing loose jeans and a graphic tee.
“I am so sorry!” Wade leaned down to collect the guy’s stuff, frantically putting it back in the basket.
The guy said nothing, and when Wade looked up, the guy’s eyes were wide, his mouth parted slightly. There was a moment of confusion on Wade’s part until he realized that he was in full Deadpool getup so yeah, that added up.
“That was dumb of me,” Wade continued regardless. “But then again, I would do anything for a chimichanga.”
There was laughter and Wade realized, the guy was laughing. He looked kind of cute when he smiled like that, when the corners of his mouth upturned and his pearly teeth showed, His eyes narrowed with his quiet laughter and man, that guy was cute. His brown hair was wavy and maybe just a little too long on top but it worked for him. He was giving retro boy-next-door vibes.
“I respect that,” The guy spoke finally, and his voice was soft and warm like honey.
Wade stood up and offered a hand to the guy, who took it and Wade pulled him to his feet with ease.
“You sure you’re okay? I rammed you pretty hard,” Wade’s hands rested on the guy’s biceps as he looked him once over.
“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” The guy assured. “Really, it’s no big deal.” He patted himself awkwardly. “I’ve got tough skin.” That made Deadpool laugh.
“But I feel bad,” Wade clicked his tongue. “Can I buy you lunch? I’m going to buy you lunch. Right after I finish my shopping.”
“That’s really not necessary-” The guy sputtered, his hands tightening on the basket. “It was just a little bump, Wade-”
“Do we know each other?” Wade put his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side.
The guy paled and he opened his mouth then closed it like a codfish. God, he was adorable. “No-uh. You’re Wade Wilson, Deadpool-guy. Everybody knows you. Right?”
Wade couldn’t help but smile. “Glad you’re a fan. Though my name’s not Deadpool-guy, you know that right?”
The guy laughed again. “Uh yeah I know, promise-”
“You know what? I kind of like Deadpool-guy. It has neighborhood vibes.”
“Neighborhood vibes?” The guy snorted. “Like friendly neighborhood Deadpool.”
“Hey that title is already taken by my best friend in the whole world,” Wade pointed a finger at the guy, though he was smiling so hard that it was starting to hurt.
“You-” The guy cut himself off with a laugh. It was almost mocking.
“What?” Wade crossed his arms. “What’s with the laugh?”
“Are you talking about Spiderman?”
“Obviously I’m talking about Spiderman-”
The guy burst out laughing. “I thought you hated each other!”
“We’re besties!” Wade protested. “Who ever told you otherwise is crazy!”
The guy snorted, nodding in agreement even though it was obvious he found the whole situation amusing. “If you say so.”
“I do say so, I know practically everything about the guy!”
“Yeah, what’s his favorite color?”
“Red.”
The guy laughed. “Uh huh.”
“What? It is. It is!” Deadpool folded his arms over his chest tightly. “How would you know anyway? Are you best friends with the guy?”
The guy’s face twisted for a second, mouth slightly open.
“Exactly,” Deadpool pointed at him triumphantly. “So, about that lunch date.”
“What about it?”
“I just need to grab one more thing, it should be right behind you-GASP!” Deadpool shrieked when he saw the empty shelf where the chimichangas were. “They’re all gone!”
“What?”
“The Chimis!” Deadpool actually fell to his knees, his hands falling against the refrigerator, clawing against the glass hopelessly. “What will I do without you?”
Then something crinkled behind him, a package. It was a very distinct sound, the sound of a frozen food bag.
Deadpool’s eyes popped open and her turned around, recognizing the sound for what it was.
“Chimis,” He groaned in bliss. The guy was holding out the package to him with a soft smile.
“Yeah, I picked up two packages. I guess I don’t need both.”
“You,” Deadpool rose to his feet, gently taking the package of chimichangas. “You are an angel.”
This time, the guy’s smile was different. It held a hint of surprise and a great deal of genuine warmth that could melt the polar ice caps.
“Something like that,” The guy shrugged.
“Right, so lunch then, chimichanga guy? You have a name right because I don’t want to resort to chimichanga guy.”
“Uh yeah,” The guy rubbed the back of his head, standing in such a way that only served to make him cuter. “It’s Peter.”
“Nice to meet you, Peter. Do you have a last name or is your name like Beyoncé?”
A chuckle. “Peter Parker.”
“Peter Parker,” Deadpool tried it out and realized it fit this dude personally. “So lunch then?”