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Peter always admired the names on his parents wrists, watching how the Steve curved gently, and the Tony was scrawled out in a mess, but a beautiful one. Growing up with adopted parents who were soulmates, Peter always wondered if his real parents were. Steve swears they were soulmates.
You would have expected Peter to have lost interest in soulmates when he became Spiderman and delved into the new life, but if anything it furthered his curiosity to the point where it became an obsession, a need; an itch.
"Not long now," Steve would reassure, seeing Peter rubbing his finger along his wrist absently.
"It's not the be all end all," Tony would tell him, worried that the boy would let it ruin him. He couldn't allow that to happen.
He wasn't sure if he would even have a soulmate. He knew that there were people out there who never got a name, never found their soulmate. The thought of such a thing happening to him terrified him, more than the thought of being killed, and that was a high risk in his day to day life.
Peter teamed up with the avengers, which was inevitable in truth, and his dad's hoped it would at least distract him. But word got around, and the team too developed interest; they thrived off Peter's youth and naivety.
Peter found himself in the gym of the stark tower, searching out someone to talk to, anyone. Well, anyone as long as it was Wade. Wade was always prepared to listen to Peter, or sit in silence, whatever the boy needed in the moment of time.
"Baby boy," Deadpool said, turning when he heard Peter enter the gym, smiling underneath the mask. The nickname earned a soft huff from Peter, but he didn't vocally protest.
"Wade," Peter greeted in return.
It was often that the pair would seek each other out. They were always drawn to each other. The mercenary found pleasure in spending time with the young man, and Peter enjoyed Wade's presence, even with the unnecessary jokes and crude humour.
"Couldn't last an hour without me, Spidey?" Wade teased, lifting his mask off and running a hand over his bald, scarred head.
"You know me," Peter approached the man and wiped at the dried blood underneath his eye. "You would think you'd at least clean up first before hitting the gym straight after a mission," the younger man teased.
"Beauty waits for no-one," Wade set the sword down, stretching his stiff arms out with a loud groan. Fighting bad guys all day was a lot harder than it looked.
Peter scoffed, "Alright, deadpool."
Deadpool laughed loudly, circling Peter slowly like an animal circling its prey before tapping his chin. "You're thinking about your mark," he declared. He wasn't wrong, per se, but Peter was always thinking about it.
"It's only a few days away now," Peter sighed nervously, becoming fidgety. "What if I don't like the outcome?"
"Oh baby boy, you worry far too much," Deadpool smirked, ruffling Peter's hair in a horribly patronising manner. The older man enjoyed winding his younger companion up.
"You are useless," Peter pushed Wade's hand away and walked out of the room, ignoring Deadpool's call of 'anytime, sweet cheeks!'. Idiot.
Peter spent the next few days becoming increasingly distracted. He could feel that it was coming - felt it under his skin, really - and it left him with more anxious energy than he had felt in a long, long time. The group didn't reassure him either, teasing him mercilessly when he stopped in the middle of something to just look; it never arrived early.
"Can you remember who your soul mate is?" Peter asked Deadpool one night, staring out over the city from their spot on the roof. It wasn't something they talked about.
"No," Deadpool laughed, legs swinging. "I don't know if I want to, they wouldn't want me, not now."
Peter turned to watch the man with a sad smile, heart aching for him. He knew Deadpool had his insecurities, he often voiced them to create a laugh at his own expense, but never in a way that left him truly vulnerable. "I don't think that's true."
"Of course you don't, baby boy," Deadpool grinned, the smile showing even underneath the mask.
"Happy birthday baby boy!" Peter was awoken by the sudden weight on his body, the air almost knocked from him when he got an armful of Wade Wilson.
"Do you feel any different?" Steve asked, holding balloons in his hans and looking a little out of place standing amongst the group, huddled around Peter's bed. He didn't.
"No," he smiled, because there was still time. No need to work himself up yet. He wasn't prepared for disappointment right now anyway.
"Lies, cupcake," Wade sang, yanking Peter's arm out from underneath the duvet. "Boo," he whined upon discovering there wasn't a mark etched into Peter's wrist yet.
"Ok, let's leave the boy to get up and ready. Just because it is the day of his birth it doesn't mean the bad guys have taken a break," Nat laughed with the group, wishing Peter a happy birthday before leaving. Wade stayed, settled on the bed.
"Weren't you meant to follow?"
"Was staying to watch you undress, no fun Spidey-bear," Deadpool got up and threw his head back dramatically before shuffling out of the room sulking.
Peter could feel a faint burn thrumming underneath his skin and he knew it wasn't long now, but now that the time was here he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out. He got ready to distract himself, walking around the room sluggishly before heading out.
"Come get breakfast baby boy, it is the most important meal for growing boys!"
"Fuck you."
"God Deadpool, will you pay attention for five minutes or our asses are gonna get kicked!"
"Don't get your panties in a twist," Deadpool called, snapping a man's neck casually before continuing, "or better yet, not right now, save that for later!"
Peter ducked from a punch, inches from getting socked in the face, and let out an irritated groan. It had been this way all night. Deadpool was distracted and it meant he had to pick up the slack and he had stuff on his mind too damn it.
"Bad guys at twelve o'clock!"
"There are none at twelve o'clock, what are you talk-" he was cut off by a sudden spike of pain cursing through his wrist. He let out a shrill cry and clutched onto his wrist, glancing up to quickly gauge if Deadpool could take the rest of them on his own.
"Fuck, not now," he muttered, sucking in a deep breath and fighting on.
"What's happening back there, Spidey?"
"Nothing, just focus!"
"How am I meant to focus when you're whining, baby boy."
Peter was relieved when it was over because now he could focus on what he had been waiting on for eighteen damn years.
"Well, let's see Spidey." Deadpool squealed, grabbing ahold of Peter's wrist and feeling to see if maybe he could feel the mark. He could feel it burning underneath the suit, and that he didn't recognise.
Peter hissed when he felt the mark burning worse than before, yanking his arm from Wade's grip and pulling the glove off to roll his sleeve up. 'Wade Wilson'.
"Oh,"
"Oh,"
"That explains the burning," Peter said quietly, a nervous laugh escaping him. He knew how to feel, but wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Wade didn't know who his soulmate was, what if they didn't match? What if it was some other Wade Wilson and he still had to find him or be alone forever, pining over a man who isn't his soulmate?
"Well baby boy," Wade laughed, thumb skimming over the mark, feeling electricity thrum under the boy's skin. "Looks like it's you who is stuck with me, sucks for you."
"I don't think that's true."
"Of course you don't, baby boy."