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“We need a fort,” Wade declares, and being a whole year and a half older than Peter, he is obviously the more experienced one.
Peter wrinkles his nose, clutching the plastic nerf gun to his chest hesitantly. It’s 9:30 PM, and his parents had told them to go to sleep a half an hour ago. After several hours of videogames, which he totally did not lose to Wade in thanks, and superhero movies, Peter is teetering on exhaustion.
But Wade really insists that if they don’t have a blanket fort, Peter is a loser. Considering that he had been excited enough as it was to have Wade over—to have a friend over, the eight year old decides to sacrifice his sleep in the name of being deemed acceptable in the older kid’s eyes.
And okay, a blanket fort would be sort of cool.
They drag the chairs from the kitchen into the living room as quietly as possible, lining them up across from the couch. Wade grins at him and expertly ties the corners of the blankets to the chairs, draping them over so that they have a makeshift roof of a pale blue sheet and a red comforter.
“I will defeat you, Spiderman!” Wade cries out, jumping off the chair and firing his nerf gun at Peter, “I am DEADPOOOOL!” The majority of the bullets miss, but Wade thinks that his theatrical skills make up for lack of accuracy.
Peter squeaks, but fires back, with significantly more accuracy. Clicks resound through the room as the fire at each other, little orange darts flying in pathetic parabolic motions across the room and not really sticking to much at all. After Wade runs out of ammo, he opts for throwing fists of popcorn over at Peter.
Blanket fort. They made that for a reason, Peter thinks and scrambles to take shelter in the blankets and pillows. Not that it helps much. Wade follows him in, tackling him back onto the pillows. They wrestle for a few minutes, Wade being a little too rough but Peter not admitting it because he doesn’t want to look like a baby.
One sore arm later, they finally collapse and huddle together, yawning.
“I’ll kill you tomorrow or something,” Wade says, words sluggish as he throws an arm around Peter, “Or we could totally be partners.”
“Yeah,” Peter mumbles, feeling a slight heat rising to his cheeks as he his cuddled by the older boy.
They fall asleep under the safety of a blanket roof, happily worn out.
.
.
“I told you letting Wade spend the night was a bad idea,” Steve says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. His husband has to stifle a laugh, and the blonde narrows his eyes because Tony’s amusement in their living room turned battleground isn’t so funny when they would be the ones cleaning it up.
Tony shrugs and scoops up an orange nerf bullet, closing one eye and aiming it at Steve’s head.
Steve is not amused.
“Peter had fun though,” Tony comments, eyes drifting over towards the sleeping children.
There’s popcorn and cheetos littered around the carpet like the debris in the aftermath of an explosion. A good portion of the chairs and furniture had either been commissioned as barricades or become part of the fort that Wade and Peter had finally passed out in. Their weapons had been discarded, fatal orange Styrofoam bullets abandoned with them.
But Wade would be gone in the morning, so really this could have gone worse, Steve thinks and drapes a careful blanket over the two.
Except that the next day, he learns that it had been worse; Peter confides in his parents he has a crush on Wade. Tony and Steve look at each other in horror.