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Nothing like a familiar pitter-patter of one’s feet on a windowsill soothed a plain old worry in the back of Wade Wilson’s mind. There were a lot of noises going on and being received by his brain, not particularly sure if the noises were real or if they were just the critters in his brain working overtime. Nevertheless, he could easily distinguish the constant bubbling of raindrops coming down against a fairly dirty window, both from the inside and the outside, and an occasional squeak of a rubberized sole of someone’s suit.
„What’s my prize, bug boy? Gosh, it feels so fucking good to win against you for once!” Wade spoke with nothing but sheer enthusiasm, his back turned towards his disaster of a living room, standing in the kitchen while munching on at least two days old slice of cold pizza, straight out of the refrigerator.
Deadpool would have to have stab wounds in his eyes or have the eyeballs poked out of the sockets to mistake the bright red and blue suit for something else or even worse, to overlook Spiderman fully in the crowd. As if one could mistake a swinging, lean man in a tight-ass spandex suit among the skyscrapers in the city. Crossing paths with the superhero was almost a daily occurrence for the mercenary, the less rational side of his brain was absolutely doing this on purpose, interfering with Spidey's patrols, missions, self-driven quests, whatever was on the boy’s to-do list, Wade would absolutely find a way how to stand in his way, no matter how much Peter would try to get rid of him. This day wasn’t any different, or at least from Deadpool's point of view, teasing Spidey about nothing and everything and being the usual pain in the ass for the young superhero. This time though, it was different. The mercenary was obviously absolutely blind to Peter’s emotional and physical state, he had no way of finding out anyway when the boy would just shoo him away and keep all of his more personal secrets to himself. But once again, this day was different.
The tall man heard a familiar plop of lightweight fabric dropping onto the ground somewhere close to him, followed by a touch in the middle of his back, right between his shoulder blades. Nothing more, nothing less, just Peter’s forehead carrying the majority of his full body weight, pressing heavily into Wade’s at least ten times renewed spine.
„I wasn’t racing with you, Wade,” Peter spoke quietly, quieter than usual.
The merc turned around, throwing the slice of pizza behind himself onto the cardboard box, setting his priorities straight and forgetting about his rumbling stomach when he heard that tone in the young boy’s voice.
The fact that Peter didn’t pull away and stayed so close, no mask covering those stained, wet cheeks, his hair slicked back from the rain, forehead still pressed against the other man’s body, made a significant amount of worry settle in the guts of the mercenary. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling to him but it was unfamiliar to feel in such a setting. With Peter Parker obviously giving up on keeping any facades up on his face, just tired, drained, and depressed even? Deep down Wade knew asking a simple “What’s wrong?” wasn’t going to cut it, in a worst-case scenario it would only drive the boy away. If his wrinkle-less brain managed to understand one thing about Peter, it was the sole fact that he truly wasn’t a fan of talking about his problems, worries, and sad days and Wade had a full understanding of it since he wasn’t truly that much different. The longer he stood there with a rather limp and quiet boy seeking refuge in his bigger frame, still covered in a fairly uncomfortable, soaked-through suit, the heavier he felt Peter’s body becoming.
„What do you need, Petey?” A simple question falling past Wade’s lips, that question itself was enough to reignite some energy back into the boy’s body and mind.
„A piece of quiet. Food. Markers. Your clothes.”
„Gotcha.”
There weren’t a lot of things that would quiet down the constant rattle inside of Wade’s brain and watching Peter bundled in a bunch of his own clothing, comfortably eating out of a cardboard box some stir-fried noodles and enjoying the nothingness around him, just quiet settling around the interior of Deadpool's messy living room while he just stood there in the doorframe, was one of those things. He should worry, he should be asking questions, he should be trying to pry information out of Peter what got him so upset and tired but it seemed like he didn’t have the correct words for those questions. And if, then he would just deepen the hatred he carried for himself if such invasive questions would shoo Peter away. No, today was not the day. Wade wasn’t sure what all of this was between them no matter how long it’s been going on. He had countless amount of cracks in his heart anytime Peter left his side and acted like nothing had ever happened only for that crack to get patched up every time Peter shows up by his doorstep, a windowsill for that matter, and seeks the comfort of his presence.
„Ready, bug boy?”
The way Peter’s eyes lifted from the box full of food and connected with Wade’s was making one of the said heartache cracks slowly disappear. The twinkle in those eyes, the tiny, sparkling reflections from the blue light coming from a TV would make anybody’s heart skip a beat. Or a few beats.
Wade dangled a few washable markers in his hand in front of Peter’s face, trying to make his focus switch from a pile of food to some other activities.
„Come here, then.”
The tall man listened as he made his way to his eternally stained sofa where the young superhero was seated, just letting Spidey scoot over to one side of the furniture, folding his legs into a cross-legged position and bringing a small pillow on top. Meanwhile, Deadpool laid down on his back, placing his head on top of the cushioned lap of the boy who was too eager to start doodling all over Wade’s face, shoulders, arms, chest, wherever he could reach. The man’s hands clasped into each other, resting them on his shirtless upper body, on his stomach to be exact. It’s been a while since he felt this comfortable in his own skin, usually being a bigger fan of hiding it away under layers of clothing or his suit but ever since he and Spidey stopped hiding and their so-called friendship had developed into different spheres, way past the work environment, he begun to accept himself more and more every single day the more comfortable he got with Peter staring at him for hours sometimes while he would just draw all around his scars and burned spots.
In a second, Wade felt the soft tip of a marker touching the middle of his sternum, his eyes closed yet he could clearly feel Peter’s upper body towering over him, eyes locked onto the different patterns raised up on his skin while the marker created all sorts of designs made by the mindlessness of the boy above him. The merc thought about himself as a human coloring book for Peter, contemplating if he’d make a design worth keeping for a while and getting it tattooed if it would even stay with his healing factor. Nevertheless, Wade enjoyed those times just as much as Peter did, knowing both of their minds get untangled for the time being.
„Don’t color outside the lines, Petey,” Wade spoke after minutes had passed and he could feel the marker slowly going up his body, the side of his neck, sometimes the full strokes would be changed for little dots and vice versa. He heard a chuckle from above himself, that quiet sound was enough for a smile to appear on his face too.
„What if I do?” The boy asked, still focusing on dragging the tip of the marker across the raised, paler parts of Wade’s skin.
„You’ll get a punishment, duh.”
Another snort-like chuckle came from Peter, almost like doubting Wade would be capable of such punishment. Or was he?
„What kind of a punishment?”
This time it was the other man’s turn to chuckle.
„Depends on the severity, ranging from a kiss on the cheek to a kiss on the cheek,” Wade answered with a smug expression on his face, one of his eyes peeking open to see the clear confusion on Peter’s face.
„What? That doesn’t make any- Wade!” Peter squealed in a scandalous tone when the double meaning of Wade’s words hit him like a brick, earning a bunch of fairly childish chuckles from the other man.
„It’s the full scale!”
„Goodness gracious, you’re unbelievable.” Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowing yet he couldn’t deny the slight warmth that his face had earned after those words.
„I am just joking, unless you don’t want me to be joking, in such case I am deadly serious, baby boy,” Wade replied with his imaginary brow cocking up in a cheesy, flirtatious way, only resulting in the cute twinkly eyes above him to roll in pure annoyance.
„I told you to stop calling me that,”
„Once you get rid of that baby face then I will.” The man’s comebacks were swift, too swift for Peter to fight off everything in time, especially when one of the scarred hands lifted up to Spidey's face, two fingers pinching that slightly maroon cheek in a cute, auntie-like gesture, making the younger boy grimace in a mild sting in his face.
That sensation made Peter’s hand slip, after all, making a black line appear across Wade’s collarbones and clearly coloring outside the lines. The man under that touch could tell as the drag of the felt tip marker wasn’t so smooth and controlled anymore and at this point, he wasn’t even trying to fight off the smug smirk that appeared on his lips.
„Ha!”
„You said you’re joking!”
„Do you want me to be joking, Spidey?”
A moment of silence. Peter swallowed harshly, enough for Adam’s apple to go up and down fairly visibly, visibly enough for Wade to see. No words were coming out of the hero’s mouth, no reply whatsoever yet the silence told a clear story anyway, giving Wade more than enough of an answer. His fingers hooked over the loose neckline of a clearly worn t-shirt of his own he lent to that boy, pulling him down to his level fairly abruptly. Peter was holding his breath, he could tell by his chest not expanding, he couldn’t hear him breathing as well as their faces were just an inch away from each other.
„Answer me, Peter,” Wade demanded, his breath hitting those stained cheeks of the doodling boy above the man, still too confused about what answer to give to him. Deadpool took it a step further, pulling the boy even lower and to the side a bit, his lips brushing against his warm, pink cheek just like he promised in the form of punishment. It was a barely-there kiss, more like an accidental touch of one’s lips to the other one’s face yet it was there, the contact was there and Peter’s heart probably gave up on its purpose.
Was that a kiss? It definitely wasn’t a kiss he’d think the mercenary was capable of, something inside of Peter’s guts was telling him he was just as ruthlessly affectionate as he was ruthless in everything else in his life. But maybe he was wrong, after all, he didn’t know much about Wade’s personal life except some of his former lovers, how he gained his powers, and that he is basically immortal. Other than that, Petey wasn’t sure how much of a softie that man could be, that there was gentle touch resting deep within those renewed bones, bubbling under the fingertips especially when dealing with soft, quiet souls like Peter himself.
And Wade? Oh, Wade wished he could let that gentleness show, to shower the young superhero in affection, nothing but slowness, sincere care, parental care almost that was brewing deep inside his tainted heart, that type of care that Vanessa awakened inside of him before she went somewhere Wade couldn’t follow. It was there, invading every organ of his in a similarly cancerous way like he knew before yet this wasn’t physically painful, this was emotionally painful, making him so uncomfortably fragile and all he could do was to tiptoe around Peter in hopes he won’t scare him away like a stray cat that just got comfortable around humans but one wrong move and the fluffy friend is gone. Peter was Wade’s fluffy friend and the barely there kiss on the cheek could potentially be the wrong move.
But not when he registered a pair of slender, rough fingers gliding over his jaw with a soft pressure to turn his head to the side which he did, following that non-verbal command, a plead without questioning it. Only when Wade felt a touch across his lips, a featherlight kiss to start off with that slowly moved its intensity to a full-blown kiss. The merc stopped breathing just like Peter did a few moments ago, the softness of Spidey's lips on his much rougher ones felt like a piece of the most expensive silk fabric getting dragged against him, feeling so rich, so thick, coursing through his veins, nerves, muscles. Oh, the man needed it, he needed that so much, that glimpse of affection, of passion even as Peter’s kiss didn’t stop at a singular press of one’s lips to the other, no. He moved them back and forth, alternating between kissing Wade’s top lip and the bottom one.
It didn’t last long though before the boy separated, his spine straightening a little bit and that was the time when Wade dared to open his eyes. He could practically feel the ache of Cupid’s arrow that just shot through his heart.
„Spidey, what-”
„Don’t say a word,” Peter muttered all embarrassed, clearly spooked by his own decisions and actions in the heat of the moment.
„You just kissed me!”
„Shut it!”
The younger boy’s hand was quick to reach for a slightly deflated pillow from the back of the couch, pressing it tightly against Wade’s face to shush down his obvious fan-girl moment. But it didn’t silence his voice at all, to Peter’s bad luck.
„You kissed me the Spidey way! The famous upside-down kiss from your first movie!” Wade continued squealing from under the pillow and giggling, kicking his feet in pure excitement and Peter was close to finding a way to silence Wade forever.
„What are you talking about? What movie?”
[Wade peaks from under the pillow to give you a wink.]
The man wasn’t wasting any time explaining his awareness, instead, he yanked the pillow out of Peter’s hands and threw it somewhere far into the open space of the living room, maybe accidentally hitting an old water bottle that had been growing its own eco-system inside of the piece of plastic.
„Do it again.”
„Hell no.”
„Peteeey!”