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Spider-Man texted Wade, who immediately went to the rooftop known affectionately as their spot. Wade was intrigued- ‘Come to our spot. Important. I'm not in danger, so don't worry.’
Peter had been there for an hour, contemplating. This was his last option, and it certainly wasn't one he was happy about, and he knew how slim the chances of it working were.
He knew that, whether or not it worked, he'd feel so guilty for putting it on his best friend ever. He had no other choice.
Wade grabbed Peter's shoulders, who flinched, distracted, “Heya, Webs! What's goin’ on? You don't usually patrol at this hour.”
“Do you remember when we first met? You told me you'd kill anyone for me without any questions. I told you to leave me alone,” Wade froze before nodding.
This couldn't be real. Spider-Man would never ask Wade to kill anyone, something Peter had made abundantly clear.
“Uh- yeah! Why?” Wade realized he actually had to respond. He couldn't pretend he wasn't excited for this mission.
“No limits? You would kill anyone? Like. You'd kill Bea Arthur or the guy you get your chimichangas from?” Peter sounded dead serious.
“Woah, there, Webs, what'd they do to you? But yes. Them, for a price, anyone else, for free,” Spider-Man looked away while handing Wade an envelope.
Wade opened it. It had twenty five dollars and a note. Wade began to shake when he read it. He couldn't breathe.
‘Kill Spider-Man. You will need to decapitate or shoot me. I am immune to poison. This is my last resort, I'm sorry,’ was all it took for Wade to slap Spider-Man.
“I'm not killing you, dumbass! What- shit! Fuck! Webs- what the hell?!” even through the mask, Wade could tell his friend looked disappointed.
Wade grabbed his wrist and dragged him a few blocks away to Wade’s apartment. It was a mess, but it didn't matter.
“Baby boy. Fuck. Is this some- logical thing? Please tell me there's a parasite in you that's gonna, like, kill everyone and you're not suicidal,” Spider-Man looked away.
“Webs-”
“Peter.”
“Is that the name of the parasite that's going to take over the world?”
“No. It's my name.”
“I'm not killing you. You're making it sound like a mental illness thing, not a Greek hero thing. You know that I love you, right? More than anything?”
“I love you too, Wade, but you don't understand. I've tried so many times. It's never worked. Obviously,” Wade looked horrified.
“You've tried to kill yourself? Like, permanently? As in, I would never see you again? No one would ever hear your beautiful voice again?” Wade's mask became damp. Peter realized he was crying.
Peter slowly reached his hand out, seeming to realize the gravity of the situation. Wade grabbed it.
“...Wade? I'm scared. I don't feel like me anymore,” Wade rubbed the back of Peter's hand.
“Peter, baby, can- can I hold you? I need- fuck- I need to keep you,” Wade had to be sure that he wasn't hallucinating Peter staying and not running away to die, or something.
Peter nodded. Wade slowly hugged Peter, Peter's back against his chest. They were both silent and numb.
“Please don't kill me,” Peter simply requested. Wade scoffed.
“Not planning on it.”
“I'm not… always suicidal. I just get episodes where I am. It's awful. One minute I want to die, the next I'm planning my retirement,” Wade nodded. He did understand, in an immortal self hating way. So, he only slightly understood.
“I know it's crazy for me to feel this way. I haven't gone through anything that bad, well, nothing I've ever told anyone, but-” Peter began.
“You don't have to justify yourself, baby boy, the fact you're feeling like this is enough,” Wade felt himself gain a psychology degree while saying that. Where did that come from?
Peter whimpered and turned back around to shove his face into Wade's shoulder. Peter felt absolutely pathetic for the noise.
Wade ran his fingers through Peter's hair, “Baby boy, everytime you want to die, call me. I don't care if it's just a… passing, non-serious thought, I love you so much. As a friend. I'm not gay. But if I was, I would totes want you,” Peter laughed. Wade smiled.
“I'm not gay either, but if I was, I'd totally kiss you too, Wade,” Peter joked. Wade’s expression shifted, as if he wanted that to happen.
“Hey, baby boy, why do you want to, uh, pardon my French, die? Like. You've been through a lot, duh, but is there something specific?” Wade forgot everything from his fake psychology degree.
“...”
“Peter… I would do anything to help you, I'm serious.”
“I hate everything about myself. I hate my voice. I hate how I look- god, I'm the ugliest person in the entirety of America,” Wade looked almost offended as he tore off his own mask, revealing his full face to Peter for the first time.
In retrospect, Peter probably shouldn’t have said that, but he wasn't thinking right and Wade had asked.
In Wade's eyes, Peter was the most beautiful person to exist. He had full, pink lips, big brown eyes, and an amazing jawline. His voice was amazing, and Wade could go on and on.
Peter didn't react to Wade's face, as if there was nothing wrong with him, “Peter, baby, you're so fucking beautiful. Seriously. I've never seen anyone as pretty as you. Look at me, then look at a mirror. I'm hideous. You're an angel.”
Peter shook his head, “My- my nose is so big and- and my hair, my forehead- I- I know I should be proud, this- this is my heritage but- but Wade, everyone has always insulted me- called- called me slurs- and- Wade, you're perfect! I'm horrific. My chest- I'd do anything for the surgery.”
Peter was sobbing. It took him long enough, Wade thought. Wade held him tighter, “No, Peter… you're the most stunning man I have ever seen.”
“You- you don't understand, Wade! I've- no one wants me. You're so fucking stunning. You have gorgeous eyes- and- and your lips- and- your cheeks- but- I look horrid! My cheeks are caved in and- and my eye bags- and- and I feel impure and- and tainted-”
“Peter. When you took off your mask, I stared at you for, like, five seconds. Why do you think that was?” Peter looked away.
“Answer me. Now,” Peter shivered. He'd never heard Wade sound so serious.
“Surprised by how I looked.”
“Yeah. You could be a model.”
“Foot model, maybe,” Peter joked.
“That'd be so hot. But, uh, seriously. I know it's not just how you look that brothers you. You said you're impure and tainted. What did you mean by that?” Peter tensed and stopped breathing. Was he avoiding the subject? Or did just thinking about it trigger him?
“I'm going to kill myself, Wade,” Peter said, seriously. Mood swing, much? Just a moment ago, he was begging to survive.
“No, no! That's okay! I'm good! We don't need to talk about it! Just, um- just stay here, yeah?” Wade spat out.Peter shook his head and dug his fingers into Wade's arm.
“Don't leave me,” Peter shrieked, it almost sounded like a threat. Wade immediately sat back down and pulled Peter back to his lap.
“I'm not, baby, I'm not leaving, I promise. I'm here. You're- you're gonna be okay. And, like, happy and stuff.”
Wade genuinely had no idea what to do. Peter wasn't acting normal- well, obviously he wasn't. He seemed paranoid, almost.
Peter was gripping the sides of Wade's shirt as if he was going to get dragged away. Wade grabbed the back of his head.
“It's okay, sweetie. What's going on?”
“I don't know- I can't- help, Wade, I don't want to live like this forever!” Peter sobbed. Wade kissed his forehead.
“You won't have to. It's gonna get better, baby boy, I'm so sorry. I love you so much. Everything is going to be okay,” Wade promised. Peter shook his head.
“Peter, baby, can you look up at me? I want to see your pretty face,” Peter slowly looked up. Wade ran his thumb over his cheek.
“Can you take a deep breath, Webs? You look like you're gonna have a panic attack,” Peter took a slow, deep breath.
“Thank you, you're doing good. Can you take a few more? Just until you calm down?” Peter usually hated being spoken to like this, but he knew Wade was just trying to help.
Peter jumped away from Wade a few minutes later once he realized how close they were, and how vulnerable of a position he had been in.
“I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have put all this on you,” Peter apologized, pulling his mask back over his face, ready to leave the apartment.
Wade shot up and grabbed his wrist, “Hold your horses, baby boy. I'm not just going to let you leave after that!”
“I- I didn't mean to do all that- I promise, I won't kill myself or whatever. I just- I don't want to bother you anymore,” Wade brought him into another hug.
“No. Peter. You're staying here. I don't care that you think you're bothering me, I don't trust you,” Wade brought Peter back to the couch.
Peter realized how insensitive it was for him to complain about how he looked when Wade was so insecure about himself.
“Wade, I'm so sorry, shit, I just realized- I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have complained about how I look to you,” Peter apologized.
“It's fine, baby. You're insecure about what you're insecure about, even if you're literally the most stunning man alive,” Wade began to play with Peter's hair.
“Still, I shouldn't have been all… sad to you.”
“Peter, you know how I'm batshit crazy for you?” Peter rolled his eyes but nodded, “I want you to be happy. I'd do anything to make you feel better. Genuinely.”
“I promise, you don't,” Peter argued.
“I promise, I do. Peter, I don't know what I'd do without you,” Wade hugged Peter again. Peter let him- was he finally giving in?
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care so much about me?”
“Because you're, like, the sun?”
“I'm not even the canvas the stars are painted on.”
“But apparently, you are a poet,” Peter scoffed and smiled, tucking his hair behind his ears, “So. Does this mean I win?”
“Fine. You win. I'm great. Best man in New York.”
“Peter, I would choose you over my chimichanga dealer,” Peter stared at Wade.
“No. No way. You would not. You can lie to me, but at least be realistic,” Wade couldn't tell if Peter was joking or not.
“I'm being honest, Peter. I would do anything for you. Whatever you need, please, just tell me,” Peter looked away.
“There's nothing you can do, Wade. I'm sorry. I'm gonna be fine, I promise. I swear. Today was just- awful. I'm not going to kill myself.”
“Just because you're alive doesn't mean shit! I want you to finally be happy. Do you need me there with you more often? If you want, you can move in with me!” Wade didn't miss the slight way Peter seemed to perk up at the idea.
“I don't need you to save me, Wade. I'm responsible for my own happiness. I'm not going to put that on you.”
“What do you need? Therapy? I'm rich, baby boy, it won't even make a dent. Also. You're staying the night here. Don't trust you to be alone tonight.”
“Okay,” Wade was surprised that Peter didn't argue with him.
“Good. Heyy, Petey, we should sl-” Peter put his hand up to interrupt Wade.
“Hell no. I'm not having sex with you, Wade! God, I should have known why you brought me back here-”
“What- no! Okay, I can see why you thought that that was what I meant, but I meant literally. You're totes adorbs, Petey, I wanna be with you,” Peter groaned.
“Fine. Just… be normal. Please.”
“I will, promise!” Wade picked Peter up bridal style and brought him to the bed. Wade tucked the annoyed boy in.
They both awkwardly stared at the ceiling until Peter tucked his head next to Wade's arm. Wade moved his arm and wrapped it around Peter and noticed that Peter had curled up like an actual spider.
After a few moments of Wade running his fingers through Peter's hair, he noticed that Peter was purring in his sleep.
What the hell? It was so cute. Wade had no idea just how adorable this man was. Peter woke up and looked at Wade.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Peter mumbled. Wade looked away.
“Did you know that you purr?”
“Fuck… yeah. I know.”
“Don't be embarrassed! It's cute.”
“Shut up.”
“Go back to sleep, Peter,” Peter rolled his eyes.
Wade woke up before Peter and carefully slid out of bed and went to the kitchen, where he began to prepare breakfast.
Turkey bacon, pancakes, and eggs. Hopefully it would be enough for Peter’s metabolism, Wade thought to himself as he woke Peter up. Peter grabbed his wrist before realizing who Wade was.
“Oh. Sorry. Um. What's up?”
“I made breakfast,” Wade contemplated interrogating Peter about his mental health again but decided not too. He didn't want to stress him out too badly.
“Oh. Thank you,” Peter stayed in bed until Wade picked him up. Peter quickly went to the kitchen. Wade laughed.
Peter slowly asked, “It's okay if not, but… can we talk about last night?”
Wade smiled, “Yes. Of course. Man, thank god you asked that! I wanted to talk more but didn't want to upset you.”
“When you asked me what else was wrong and I freaked out. I just wanna explain why I reacted like that. Um. God, where do I start?” Peter anxiously laughed.
When I was a teen- that was when I realized I was trans. I can't explain how much I hated myself, Wade. I've always felt like… I don't know.”
There- there was a field trip, and that was the first time I attempted suicide over being trans.. It didn't even nearly work, but I feel so… guilty, still.
If I did die, it would have been my friends who found me. I was so selfish, Wade,” Wade hugged Peter again.
“Not selfish. Being queer is hard. You were hurting. It's okay,” Peter didn't believe Wade. He would have traumatized his friends.
“I still… hate being trans. I'm lying to everyone I meet- anyone who's ever called me a guy. They don't know what I really am.”
“The word ‘guy’ is in, ‘trans guy’ for a reason, you know, Peter. You're a guy- one of the best men I've ever met,” Peter realized that it had been a long time since Wade had cracked a joke.
“Can I kiss you?” Peter asked without thinking. There was silence for a few seconds.
“Can I get a tone indicator on that one, Petey?”
“A what?”
“Ah. Wrong timeline. Are you for real right now? If so, abso-fucking-lutely. If not, that's a really fucked up thing to joke about.”
Peter slowly kissed Wade, who could tell Peter had very little experience.
“Thank you,” Peter mumbled, looking away. Was he embarrassed? The little face Wade could see was very red.
“Love you, baby boy.”
“Love you too, Wade.”
“Now, eat up. You’ll never get better if you die from starvation,” Peter laughed.
“Wow. Blunt much?”
“Man, I want a blunt.”
“Wade!”
“What?”
“...nevermind,” Peter gave up. Wade was immortal, self-healing, and weed was legal. There was nothing he could really say.
Wade wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulder and smiled, “Thank you, Peter. For trusting me. Um… I'm not great with emotions, I know, I usually avoid them unless I'm joking around. So. Thank you.”
Peter nodded and leaned into Wade's touch. Wade brought him to the couch once he finished eating and turned on the TV.
Peter curled against Wade as the man turned on the news. Peter didn't pay attention to what was being said. He felt happy as Wade ran his fingers through his hair.
“You're better with emotions since we first met,” Peter noted without thinking about it. Wade looked down at him?
“You really think so?” Peter nodded, moving to lay his head in Wade's lap. Wade fought the urge to make a stupid joke.
“Yeah. I'm proud of you, honestly. You seem like you're better at taking care of yourself, as well,” Wade looked away and smiled.
“I spend too much time with you, your happiness has infected me!” Wade jokingly accused Peter, who rolled his eyes.
“So, if I hang out with you more, you might actually become a hero? Never slip up and kill anyone?” Peter questioned. Wade thought about it for a moment.
“Yup!” Peter slowly nodded and looked Wade in the eyes, “What? Did I do something?”
“Your eyes are really pretty,” Peter noted. Wade blushed and looked away. There was no way Peter meant that.
“Oh. Uh. Thank you?” Peter kissed Wade's textured cheek. Wade couldn't deny that he loved how Peter treated him like he was precious.
“You're so pretty,” Peter blushed and moved to make himself smaller. Wade stared into Peter's eyes for a second.
Wade looked at the wall for, like, two seconds, then when he looked back, Peter was asleep! How did that happen so quickly?!
Wade kissed Peter’s forehead. He never really imagined that he'd ever be Spider-Man's friend, certainly not dating him.
He tried to focus on whatever show had started playing, but he kept turning back to look at his gorgeous, sleeping boyfriend.