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So there was a huge flash and a loud whirring sound and some demon god saying “I banish thee” and then everything went black and Wade was standing in the middle of Times Square wondering what the fuck just happened.
And also where he could get some Mexican that wasn’t that fuckin’ Chevys place.
[Rosa Mexicano!]
{No, asshole, that place is too hipster for us}
“Yeah, it’s the type of place Spidey would go,” Wade mutters, rubbing his head. He feels a little -- weird, but whatever. If he had to be banished, he supposed NYC wasn’t a bad place. He’d been getting into some Merc business in Seoul when the heavens opened up and out popped some dude he’d pissed off the last time him and Shiklah hooked up. Then the demon god rambled about lust and desire and not having what you want and Wade was in New York.
[Oh, Spidey! We like him!]
{He’s just not that into us, though}
Wade groans and decides to just find a food cart and eat on the way back to the apartment he keeps here. When you’ve got loads of cash, it’s easy to live in a city that you only actually step foot in a few months out of the year.
The stupid boxes make him think of Spidey as he starts his trek to Soho. His Heroes for Hire group --
{Mercs for the Money}
“Shut up,” Wade growls.
-- has kept him pretty busy lately. The last time he saw Spidey was probably eight months ago in which Wade was bored as hell and Spidey was doing his Superhero thing and well, if he could help the guy not get stomped on by some alien bug race, he might as well. They’d been giant mechanical spiders. Really, trying to unalive their own kind, the shame of it all.
Afterwards, they did their ‘lets sit on a rooftop while Spidey acts begrudgingly grateful for the assist and Wade pathetically tries not to swoon’ thing.
Nothing ever happened after those times. The next time they see each other, be it a week or a month or a few months later, it’s always the same: Wade seemingly starting from scratch with the guy, as if there are walls there he can’t even begin to penetrate.
[Sigh, penetration. How long has it been?]
{That rentboy in Vancouver}
[‘Rentboy’? Really?]
{This is a fanfic, they’ll appreciate the lingo}
Now Wade’s both maudlin, tired, and horny, and when he finally makes it to his place (delicious burrito now in his stomach), he doesn’t even bother with the lights, just kicks off his boots, removes the katanas and collapses into his bed, full mask and all.
And then he rolls into a body shaped lump.
Wade’s first thought is holy shit, did I pick up the last time I was here and did they like, OD in my bed? A rotting corpse in his sheets ala Four Rooms is all he can picture and hey, he can deal with gross flesh (hello, look in a mirror lately?) but he honestly just wants to fucking sleep so it’d be really nice if this were just a life size blow-up doll he forgot he bought.
[Of Spidey!]
{You’re really pathetically bad with this foreshadowing shit. You have no subtlety. I pity these readers}
Then he hears a soft moaning sound and then the thing moves, rolling into him and pressing his nose against Wade’s shoulder. “Mmm, you’re back already? Thought you said you’d be gone another week.”
The voice is sleep rough and male and sounds fucking fond in ways that clearly means he doesn’t know who he’s talking to, because -- yeah.
Still, Wade’s not about to pull a Marty McFly and flip the fuck out. He needs information.
“And just where was I supposed to be?” He puts some teasing into his voice.
He gets a pinch for his efforts, a sneaky hand catching his thigh. “Seoul, you idiot. How’d it go?”
[Great! We came home to a cute boy!]
{Awful, we came home to an alternate universe}
Well, he got the Seoul part right, so the split must have happened with Demon God, Wade thinks, ignoring his boxes. It's a feat that gets surprisingly easy with each passing.
“Peachy keen, beauty queen,” Wade says, wondering just how much this guy knows about his business. Sure, he's trying to stay on the up and up lately, but sometimes it still does require taking out baddies and Wade knows that's Frowned Upon (ugh, society).
Also, Jesus Christ, he must really be shacked up with this guy if he was in Wade/s bed while Wade was supposed to be Trippin’ the East Fantastic.
[Domestic bliss!]
{Ugh, I may puke}
Well, let's test it out shall we?
“Aww, didja miss me, pumpkin?” Wade asks, syrupy sweet, reaching beneath the covers to tickle the dude’s stomach.
Leather gloves meet bare skin and woah, mama.
The dude squirms away and makes a disgusted noise. “You and your pet names,” he sighs, but fuck, he still sounds fond, and then he's slinging his arm around Wade’s waist and pressing a kiss against his mask where his neck and shoulder meet. “Get undressed, I missed you,” he says around a yawn.
Wade’s entire body tenses, brain seizing up.
“Wade?” the guy asks softly, like he could just tell something was wrong and what the fuck, what the actual fuck.
“Uh, I really need a shower, I smell like Bigfoot’s dick.”
The guy snorts and Wade still can't see him in the darkness. Can only make out a mop of hair and what look like some pretty nice cheekbones.
He carefully extracts himself and pats that mop of hair awkwardly. “Get some sleep you gotta -- like, get up and shit. I'm sure.”
That's what people do anyway. Normal people.
The guy snorts and yawns again. “Yep, exciting life.” He starts to turn over before pausing. “You sure you're okay?” There's something about his voice that sounds really familiar.
“Fine, baby boy.”
[Hey, we call Spidey that!]
{Oh my god}
“Mmkay. Don't take too long, huh?”
Wade gives him a thumbs up he probably can't see and heads to the bathroom. He takes a 45 minute shower, considers slitting his wrists just because it would give him something to do besides think, and then puts the suit back on and high tails it out of there.
He checks into a hotel and wakes up at noon to 10 increasingly worried messages from an unknown number.
Wade’s got research (stalker) skillz, though, and traces the number to a one Peter Benjamin Parker.
Whoever the hell that is.
________________________
Okay, so maybe Wade’s heard the name before, but that was when he traveled back to the 60’s, so unless this Petey doesn't grow up ala Peter Pan it's gotta be a different person.
[It doesn't have to be! Comics work in mysterious ways!]
{I cannot believe I am agreeing, but yeah, agreed}
So basically Wade runs into this Peter Parker character when there are space time continuum issues. And dates him at times. Gotcha.
Wade’s phone starts ringing again and it's the same name on his screen.
“Damn, someone really wants the D,” Wade mutters.
He doesn't pick up, and then feels pretty pathetic avoiding this dude and also his own apartment but, hey, he's probably handling this shit better than most people would.
_______________
Wade doesn't have a game plan. He could leave town and hope all this corrects itself eventually (nah), he could go to his apartment and get some hot action from some dude whose face he hasn't even seen (super fucking tempting), or he could try and run into his favorite person in any universe (ding ding ding).
{We've got it bad if that's more tempting than hardcore boning}
[Spidey!]
So Wade goes and hangs out on a rooftop that he's sat with Spidey once before and waits. And waits. He goes through his text messages, too.
Most just say things like ‘where are you’ and ‘are you okay’ and ‘you know it's rude to cut and run like that I thought we had something special here’ (Wade reads that one as deadpan and has to laugh) and ‘okay but seriously are you alright’?
It’s… weird. Seeing textual proof that someone actually gives a shit about him.
Weird and freaky and scary as fuck.
“Some banishment,” Wade says to the sky. “What is this? Show the anti-hero what he could've had if he was a better person?” He raises his arms. “Ha ha, good one ya got me, cool party trick.”
“We discussed that talking to yourself thing.”
Wade whips his head around to see Spidey removing a web from where he just landed and stalking toward him.
“Aww, I knew you'd care!”
“Gee, yes, I care! More I can say for you!”
{Good to know Spidey randomly yells at us in all universes}
[Spidey!!]
Wade stands up because woah, a stalking spider can be a little intimidating. Those legs move like he's got eight of ‘em.
“Now, now sugar bum, we can get through this.”
Spidey scoffs. “Oh can we? I should web your mouth shut for your little stunt last night.”
“Uhhh, have you hit your head? Do you think I'm The Chameleon again? Do you need mouth to mouth?”
Spidey snorts. “You won't be getting that privilege any time soon. What the hell, Wade, you haven't left in the middle of the night since we first got together. And who's The Chameleon?”
Wade gapes. “Wait, what?”
We’re banging Spider-Man?
{We’re banging Spider-Man????}
[We’re banging Spider-Man!]
Spidey sighs, shoulders dropping. He rubs at his forehead. “Seriously, though, you're okay?”
{We’re banging Spider-Man, we've never been better}
[Tell him!]
Sometimes Wade wished his boxes were more aligned, but life would be too easy then, wouldn't it?
“Uh, yeah. You know how I… get. After uh, jobs?”
Spidey snorts again, but this time it sounds kinder. “Yeah I do.” He looks at Wade before shaking his head. “Next time just… Let me know where you're going, okay? Or at least answer your damn phone.”
Wade nods. So Spider-Man’s name is Peter Parker and Wade's dating him. What kind of crazy fantasy world was this?
Spidey walks up to him, touches his face. “Hey. Wanna order in and make out on the couch?”
Wade nearly swallows his tongue. The best fantasy world ever, perhaps.
“That all depends.”
Spidey tilts his head. “Oh yeah? On?”
“If burritos are on the menu.”
Spidey laughs loudly. “Oh I got a burrito for you, big boy.”
{This is the best universe in the world}
[Burritos!]
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Wade breathes.
_______________________
Wade forgot that sexy times with Spidey would have to consist of, you know, lifting his mask and taking off his suit or at least poking holes in the appropriate places and that -- well. That's a trip and a half and not a headspace he was prepared for right now.
So there he sits, stiff on his own couch that seems a lot cleaner than he left it, while Spidey -- no, Peter, -- sits in grey sweat pants and a Columbia t-shirt and laughs at some rom com that even Wade has never seen (and he'd really thought he'd seen all of Ryan Reynolds catalogue, so maybe the guy made different choices in this universe).
{Better ones, one would hope}
[Spidey!]
Whitey totally has a one track mind, but Wade's gotta agree with him on this one. He's been sneaking looks at Webs since they got back and Spidey casually took off his suit. Wade had nearly protested -- the secret identity shtick was sacred -- but sometimes he was rather weak willed. It's a character flaw.
Peter is -- hot. Ridiculously hot and Wade has to give a mental fistbump and a good old fashioned wave of the pom poms at his alt universe self’s ability to land such a hottie.
“You gonna take off your hood and stay awhile?” Peter whispers against Wade’s shoulder, nuzzling.
Nuzzling, dear god. Wade adores cuddling. He hasn't done it in far too long.
Wade’s fingers clench in a fist on his thigh and he breathes in and out, counts to five.
“What's wrong, don't like the suit, baby boy? It's sexy as hell, you know.”
Peter giggles and Wade feels it vibrate against him. “Yeah, I'm well aware, considering how much we make out when you join me on patrol.”
Wow, how'd we manage to get that to happen? Wade thinks.
He finds himself wanting to know how he got together with this Spidey. And yeah, maybe because he'd love to use the information for his own benefit when he switches back, but he also wants to know because the idea just seems… so far-fetched. Spidey’s never shown any real interest. He tolerates Wade in varying degrees, which range from budding friendship to annoying tag-a-long. He's never given the impression he wants to put his mouth where the money is.
This Spidey must have mind reading capabilities because all of a sudden, he's kissing his way up Wade’s jaw over the mask and whispering, “There a reason you haven't kissed me since you got back, when you normally can't keep your hands off me?”
Wade knows the words are meant to come out humorous (this Spidey sure isn't lacking in the wit department) but it's odd that he can also hear the insecurity beneath it. Probably because that combo is one he's mastered so well himself.
Wade straightens up, detangling this dream version of Spider-man from his body.
“Yeah, so, about that. Nice to meet ya, I’m Wade Wilson but def not your Wade Wilson although I gotta say, I’m jealous of the asshole.”
Wade has his hand outstretched for Peter -- Spidey -- Not-Peter or Not-Spidey or whoever this is -- to shake, but the kid just stares at him, then down at his hand, then cocks an eyebrow.
“Quit it, Wade, I’m not in the mood,” he says, knocking the hand away.
“I'm serious here, bubble butt! I ain't your man. Well, I am but I'm not. Multiverses confuse the fuck outta me, okay, this is my first hands on experience with one.”
Now Spidey’s got his other eyebrow cocked. “You're saying you're not my boyfriend?”
Boyfriend, Wade thinks, shivering a little.
“Wish I could say I was, baby boy.”
Spidey’s stupid Bambi eyes narrow. “You still call me that.”
Wade laughs with more bitterness than he intended. “Always called you that.”
“Huh. When’s my birthday?”
Wade rolls his eyes under the mask. “No clue.”
Spidey hums. “Wait, you forget stuff like that anyway, that proves Jack.”
Wade snickers.
“What's my favorite movie?”
“You look like a Pixar guy but I dunno which.”
“Uhhh, no.”
Wade holds up his hands. “Tryin’ to tell ya, doll face, this ain't no temporary amnesia, I'm not the EVE to your WALL-E.”
“Okay, okay. One last try: tell me about the first time we had sex.”
“It was a dark and stormy night… Yeah, no, got nothing because it never happened. Trust me, darling, if I ever did the nasty with you I wouldn't stop bragging about it to anyone that would hear me. I'm not exactly one for modesty.”
Spidey’s looking at him curiously, his gaze calculating, before he gives a quick nod. “Believe me, I know how much you love talking about that night. You've got no reason to go all shy virgin on me now.”
[Yay, he believes us!]
{Yeah, congrats, asshole, we nearly got laid tonight until you pulled this}
“The truth shall set you free,” Wade replies aloud.
“Huh?” Spidey asks, tilting his head before widening his eyes a little. “Oh, are they talking?”
Wade scratches behind his ear. “Uh, yeah. Guess the boxes exist in any ‘verse, huh? Too good to be true otherwise, eh?”
Spidey frowns. “Well, they're kind of quieter lately. I mean, uh, in other you that is.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is friggin’ weird.”
“Tell me about it, sugar lips.”
Spidey’s frown deepens. “You’re… so much like him.”
Wade snorts, looking down at his hands. “I mean, I guess I am? Hell if I know.”
“I know what you look like, you know,” Spidey says, nodding at the mask. “You could take that off.”
[He wants to get us naked!]
{That sounds fake, but okay}
“Hey now, you don't know that. I could look totally different in this verse. I mean, let's be real, any Deadpool not modeled after Ryan Reynolds even with the cheese grater exterior is a tragedy, but the universe works in mysterious ways, baby.”
Spidey -- Peter -- laughs quietly and then lifts a hand to Wade’s cheek, startling him backwards. “Seriously, it's okay.”
Wade quirks one of his job-existent eyebrows. “You tryin’ to get in my pants here, Petey? What would lover boy think?”
Peter snorts. “Please, you know he'd be ridiculously into that.”
{He has a very real point}
[Swoon]
“And I'm really not. I just -- want you to know you can relax around me. And be comfortable. If anyone should be having anxiety over this, it's me, seeing as I'm pretty sure now you had no idea of my identity in your world. Yet I care more about your being okay. What can I say, love is weird. I'll never be used to it.”
Wade's brain feels like it might explode, yet the boxes are suspiciously quiet.
“Uh… Did you just say you love him? Not-me, that is? Alt me?”
A blush spreads across Peter’s cheeks. It's adorable. “I did. I do. Surprised me, too, at first.” He laughs nervously and runs a hand through his hair. “This is so damn surreal, telling you this stuff.”
Not as surreal as Wade Wilson hearing that Spider-Man is in love with him.
Nothing will top that.
“Well,” Wade says, clapping his hands. “What do you say we figure out how to get you reunited with your One True Love?”
Peter raises a skeptical eyebrow and Wade smiles winningly under the mask with more confidence than he feels.
____________________________________
They go to Reed Richards because apparently this Spidey hangs around more with the Fantastic Four than the Avengers.
{Maybe it's a Marvel vs. FOX thing}
[Spidey!!]
Richards also knows full well about their relationship, which is so fucking weird that Wade shoots himself in the foot just to make sure this is really happening.
Peter glares at him. Richards looks unimpressed by spontaneous regeneration.
“Alright, so from what you told me it’s probably a space-time continuum shift caused by whatever demigod you pissed off.”
“Duh,” Wade mutters. “This what you get paid the big bucks for?”
Richards ignores him. “This universe’s you is probably in your universe as he’s gotta go somewhere.”
“Oh, god,” Peter groans.
“Hey,” says Wade, slightly offended. “I’m probably behaving.”
“No, you’re freaking out trying to find me and then freaking out my other self because you know who I am.”
“Point taken.”
“The god was angry at you. Wanted to show you what you couldn’t have, probably, from what you told me. Wanted to make your life miserable. This is a form of sex pollen, gentleman, to put it crudely and -- well, not entirely accurately, in your case, but the best thing I could come up with.”
{It’s a fanfic, of course it’s sex pollen}
[Are there bees involved?]
Wade’s head is spinning. Peter is suspiciously quiet beside him.
“Hey, Richards,” Wade shouts, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Why not say exactly what it is and aim for accuracy rather than what it isn’t, eh?”
Richards, the bastard, just shrugs unapologetically. “From my research, this is the best way I can explain it. You offended this god and they wanted to make you pay by showing you a life that was just beyond your grasp.”
“Who am I, Nicholas Cage?” Wade mutters. Peter giggles, which is a plus from the prior silence.
“I didn’t say this was a smart god,” Richards replies testily. “It’s rather anti-climatic, honestly. It appears as though the balance will be restored with some sexual component. So whilst this is not your standard sex pollen in which you two cannot keep your hands off one another, it’s definitely a component. To sum things up, Wilson, you’ll probably be restored to your universe if you two have sexual relations. Unless, of course, I’m off base and it requires a deeper physical connection, such as falling in love. Which might prove more difficult?”
Richards ends it on a question and Wade sneaks a look at Peter, heart thumping in his chest.
The thing is, he’s been in love with Spidey forever, and it doesn’t matter that this isn’t his Spidey -- it’s like, part of his genetic make-up now.
[D’awww!]
{This is sickening}
Peter meets his eyes briefly and Wade can’t read them. He’s kind of glad for that.
“Um. Thanks a lot, Reed. You’ve been helpful.”
Wade didn’t expect disappointment to hit so hard in his gut at Peter’s non-answer, but there you have it.
Disappointed that a dude in a relationship with his other self isn’t in love with this version of him. That takes the cake for most fucked up things that’s happened this month.
They’re quiet together on the way back to Wade’s apartment.
They’re never quiet together.
Wade hates this universe.
___________________________________
“Tell me about your Peter. Or, whatever you call him.”
[Story time!]
{Wake me up when it's over},
Wade doesn’t even have it in him to go through the list of names he’s called his Spidey.
“What about him?” he sighs, collapsing onto his couch.
Peter stands in front of him, shifting from one foot to the other. He’s already taken off his mask. It makes him look -- vulnerable. Or something.
“How does he feel about you?”
Wade snorts, dropping his head back against the couch cushions. “That’s the question for the ages, honey.”
Before Wade can blink, Peter’s dropped down beside him, one hand on Wade’s arm. “I think --” he cuts off and Wade turns his neck slowly to look at him. “I think he probably -- you know.”
Wade grins, self-deprecating. “Wants this whole hunka man?”
Peter’s fucking gorgeous when he blushes. He wonders if his Spidey blushes this prettily. If he looks exactly the same. Wade looks the same, but hey, you never know.
“Well. Yeah. And -- I mean, if I love you -- I mean. He can’t be that different, right? You’re not -- that different.”
Wade isn’t sure he’s breathing. The boxes are too quiet so he can’t be alive, probably. He died, somehow. Healing factor stopped and he’s just in some sort of hell where a beautiful boy is acting like he’d be in love with him regardless of time or space. Insanity.
Wade shakes his head. “You don’t know me, baby boy. I’m not your guy.”
“You were in Seoul. So was he. He was working with the Heroes for Hire group that he started up, trying to make a difference -- not killing, just -- scaring people, saving people. Trying to be one of the good guys. I’d been into him for a while, but I was too -- I dunno -- chicken to say anything. I was afraid he’d let me down. And then one night he kissed me and I didn’t run.”
Wade gapes at him. “I -- he made the first move? For real?”
Peter shrugs. “Yeah. It was after some fight with giant spiders.”
Wade blinks.
“I thought you -- he -- was just going to leave, like always. But he turned back, mask still up from when we were eating, and friggin’ dipped me into a kiss. I didn’t exactly stand a chance.”
Peter was smiling softly and Wade was still staring. Eight months ago… that was it? That was all he had to do? Yet Peter’s acting like they’ve been in love forever. Fuck, maybe they have.
“I did,” Wade says.
“Hmm?”
“I did leave,” he repeats, eyes locked on Peter before he slowly removes his mask.
[Yay!]
{About time, geez}
You guys have been quiet as fuck, don’t even.
Peter sucks in a breath and Wade pauses with his hand still up by his head, wondering if he’s made a mistake. Peter’s quick to shake his head, though, palm on Wade’s face.
“Knew it would still be you.”
“Yeah, well,” Wade says, looking anywhere but at Peter. “Guess I’m not as one-of-a-kind as I like to think.”
“Shut up, Wade,” he whispers before surging forward and kissing him.
Wade moans into the kiss, fists a hand in Peter’s soft hair and licks deep into his mouth.
“Fuck,” he whispers against Peter’s mouth.
“Yes,” Peter groans, and pulls him down. They shift on the couch till they’re lengthwise and god, Wade’s glad this one doesn’t have jizz and Dorito stains.
[Don’t be gross, we’re about to make love]
{No, we’re about to pound this guy into the couch. I want some popcorn}
Wade groans at both boxes for different reasons and gasps as Peter’s leg comes up to lock around his waist.
“You sure this ain’t cheatin’, baby?” Wade whispers as he bites at Peter’s lips, his chin, his neck. “I got a feeling you’re a one-man kinda guy.”
Peter laughs, high and breathless. “So are you, Wade, don’t even front.”
Wade can’t really argue with that. He kind of cares a lot about monogamy. Enough to consider not going through with this, despite a timeline divergence or how hard his dick is.
He can’t answer, though, because Peter is wrapping his arms around him and saying, “He’d be so into this. Because he’s you.”
“Truth,” Wade replies. He wonders what’s happening with his other self and Spidey. He can’t really believe it's anything like this.
“And this is how to reset things, probably, right?” Peter continues.
“Right,” Wade swallows, licking slowly up Peter’s neck.
“Not that I'm just doing it for that, mind,” Peter whispers. “You’re still you. You make me tacos at 2 a.m. and hold me all night long and sure, okay, maybe it’s not you physically, but you’re telling me you wouldn’t do that with your Peter?”
Wade’s never talked this much when he’s had someone willing and ready beneath him before. It’s weird as fuck. Still, Peter’s words go straight to his chest and he’s gotta pull back, has to look at him.
Finds he doesn't want to look away.
[Romance!]
{I’m seriously gonna be ill}
“Yeah, yeah, you got me,” Wade says, and maybe he’s replying to Peter or the boxes or both, but he can’t care anymore. Can’t care about any of the ramifications of what they’re about to do -- good or bad -- or how this doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t go back to his world as alone as he was before.
All he can care about is kissing Peter until he moans prettily and wraps his other leg around Wade’s waist while they start a slow, maddening rhythm against each other, gasping and groaning.
Wade is too afraid to come because he doesn’t know what this stupid sex pollen god considers sex and if it’s a Bill Clinton definition then he’s fucked and not in the way he’d liked to be. So he holds off, lifts Peter off the couch and carries him to the bedroom while he’s still shaking and shuddering against Wade, so ready to come himself that it’s intoxicating.
“Tell me how you want this,” Wade breathes into Peter’s neck when they’re on the bed and naked and he’s trying hard not to focus on his own body’s imperfections when he has inches upon inches of glorious, golden, skin spread out before him.
“Inside me,” Peter says, eyes closed and cheeks red.
“Jesus christ, baby boy,” Wade whispers. His hands haven’t stopped running up and down Peter’s chest, his arms, his thighs. Wade bends down, sucking his cock in one swift motion, making Peter gasp and arch beneath him, before he pulls off and digs into the table by his bed, hoping he’s actually got some shit there.
Of course he does, because this is where he and Peter fuck and cuddle and eat and hang out and -- jesus christ, how weird. How very fucking weird.
Peter is a firecracker. He’s everything Wade’s ever hoped Spidey would be, all those nights spent with his own hand and countless fantasies.
He takes everything Wade has to give him, opens for him beautifully, first around his fingers and then around his dick. They start with Peter on his back, Wade dragging rough palms over his flat chest, watching the way Peter arches and writhes beneath his touch and lifts to meet his thrusts. The middle is Peter pushing Wade backward -- with that strength he’s felt countless times but never in this setting -- and riding him hard into the mattress.
They end with Wade curled around Peter’s back and fucking him slow and languid, the way he would in only his most embarrassing of fantasies. They come at nearly the same time. Wade wonders if he’ll disappear the second his dick stops twitching. It might make him hold Peter a little tighter, but he’d never admit it.
{You don’t have to admit it, sap, we’re right here}
[*swoons*]
“Shut up,” Wade mutters.
“Mmm, didn’t say anything.” Peter’s voice is slurred and fucked out and that’s -- jesus, that’s just surreal.
“Wonder if that worked,” Wade says, trying to sound totally unaffected even though his body's still shaking and he’s still half inside Peter.
“Guess we’ll see,” Peter replies, sounding like he’s falling asleep. He wonders if his Spidey is this drowsy after sex and realizes with a sharp ache that he desperately wants to find out.
“So -- you think I should go after him, is what you’re saying.” Wade pulls out gently as he says the words, but snuggles right back up to Peter.
Peter laughs, like he didn’t expect Wade to pick up the thread from a convo they had over an hour ago. “You should,” he says around a yawn. “You really should, Wade.”
That just sounds terrifying as all hell, and Wade isn’t scared of many things.
He’s scared to death of Peter Parker though, someone whose real name he didn’t even know until a few days ago.
He sleeps wrapped around Peter all night long. The next morning he’s in the same New York apartment, except he’s alone.
He didn’t really expect otherwise, but a small part of him -- hoped.
He hates that he didn’t even get to say goodbye.
“Fuckin’ sex pollen god,” Wade grumbles, before pulling a pillow over his head.
{at least we got laid?}
[*sigh* Spidey]
He considers shooting himself in the head to momentarily stop the voices, but even that feels like too much effort right now.
_________________________
Wade has no idea what his other self spent his time doing the three days they were switched. If he was hanging about his Spidey, well, Wade was doing everything to avoid his Spidey, so he wouldn’t know. Then again, his Spidey was probably avoiding him too, so that was a little depressing.
Wade isn’t the one to make the move, in the end. Instead, it’s Spidey climbing through his window at 2 a.m., making Wade scream like a toddler.
“You’re an asshole,” Spidey says.
“Why hello to you too, lovely weather we’re having.”
Wade can see the eyeroll through the mask.
“Cut the shit, Wade. Your little alternate self told me everything. To be honest, at first I thought you were just playing me. Because you love to play me. But you knew shit about me you couldn’t possibly know.”
“Oh,” Wade says, swallowing hard. He kind of wishes he did actually know those things. About Peter Parker, anyway. Spidey, he feels he knows pretty damn well.
“Yeah, oh.” Spidey crosses his arms and frowns down at him. It isn’t until then that Wade realizes he’s not wearing his own mask.
Fuck.
“I need to know. If you’re gonna tell everyone who I am. I’m assuming you -- know.”
Wade nods, before quickly shaking his head. “Yeah. I mean no, I won’t. Shit, Spidey, why the fuck would I?”
Spidey shrugs and Wade gets a wave of deja vu. He looks so much like Peter, the way he did when he was vulnerable and unsure. It’s --
“You’ve been back for days and haven’t looked for me. That's atypical behavior.”
“I’ve been busy. Murder She Wrote is now on Netflix, it consumes a lot of my time.”
Peter laughs. “Can it, Wade. What gives?”
Wade scrubs his hands over his face. His face that Peter can see. No fucking point in going back now.
“Come on, what do you think, Webs? I went to a universe in which we were practically married. It’s fucking weird -- seeing you.”
“Oh,” Peter says quietly.
Wade isn’t looking at him, but he hears him sit down on the edge of the bed. “So… that freaked you out?”
“Uh, yeah, little bit.”
Peter’s nodding rapidly. “Right. Well. I mean, it’s not like. I mean, it’s not like we’re --”
“Use your words, baby boy.”
Spidey turns to him, glaring. “This isn’t exactly easy for me. I spent three days with a version of you telling me all about how we’re totally in love and our life together. And he was just like you and I didn’t know what to believe or what to do except go on these weird half-dates with him while he talked about his Peter Parker.”
“You didn’t bang him?”
“Huh? No!”
{What a shame}
[Shut up, they’re actually talking]
Wade’s jaw snaps shut.
Spidey tilts his head a him. “You… wait, you did?”
Wade bites his lip hard.
“Holy shit, you did. Jeez, and here I thought you just -- weren’t into the idea of. You know. Us.”
{Is he insane?}
[Is he insane?]
“Uh, are you insane? I’ve only flirted with you since the day I met you, Webs.”
Spidey groans, waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, well, flirting is. Flirting. It doesn’t -- mean anything.”
“It means something when you mean it, moron.”
“Shut up,” Spidey mutters.
[God, he’s adorable]
{I gotta agree}
“I can’t believe you slept with me,” Spidey says, and he sounds so deliciously embarrassed. Wade would bet anything he was blushing.
“Are you blushing?”
Spidey looks at him. “Maybe.”
Wade’s pulse races. He was told to go for it -- by Spidey himself, basically -- and -- well, Spidey’s one of the smartest people he knows so he's probably onto something there.
Here goes nothing
“You know, Peter, I’ve seen your face and you’ve seen mine so maybe -- lose the mask and stay a while?”
Peter pauses and Wade thinks maybe he’s fucked up.
Dammit other Spidey, giving me shit advice! Who ever said he was smart?.
“On one condition.”
Hope blooms in his chest. “Yeah? What’s that, baby boy?”
“Take me out on a real date. Just you and me this time, no other selves involved.”
{Holy shit, he really wants us}
[D’awww. Romance!]
“You drive a hard bargain, baby, but there’s a Mexican restaurant with your name on it.”
[Rosa Mexicannoooo!]
{Aaaand we’ve come full circle. Predicable}
When Peter takes off the mask, he's grinning at Wade. he looks exactly like other Peter --
{Like Andrew Garfield right? Because there would probably be a riot if he were that Tom guy}
[I miss Tobey]
-- and he blushes just the same, too.
Wade can't wait to find out if spreads all the way down to his chest and if his thighs shake when Wade's got his hands all over him.
He figures he probably won't have to wait long to find out.
{And all it took was a super cliche plot device, huzzah}
[I love happy endings]
"Me too," Wade says aloud, looking at Peter.
Peter smiles like he knows what he means.
Hell, he probably does.
[end]