Peter groaned, rolling over in his bed. The blankets felt like they were suffocating him even though it was only one sheet and thin comforter. He kicked them back, frustrated from the lack of sleep he'd been getting lately. Staying up until the late hours of the night and when he finally passed out he tossed and turned in his sleep, never getting a full nights rest anymore.
He was starting to worry Harry, the downside of being roommates with your best friend meant that he got to see you most of the day and Peter was looking more and more like shit as the days went on. Bags under his eyes, his hair a mess, the same clothes day in day out because he honestly couldn't be bothered to change them. He should probably shower too but that might mean he was being productive and he couldn't have that.
Squinting his eyes, he gazed over at his alarm clock. Four in the morning. Great... just what he needed. To lay there, awake, for four hours until he had to get up for class, and think. Think about how they'd been perfect for each other in the most twisted of definitions. They could banter and flirt like no one's business even while they were out on missions together.
“Yo! Spidey! Can I have your autograph? That was awesome! You're my hero!” The equally masked man had waltz up to him after he finished apprehending a criminal and they hit it off. Sure it took a while for Peter to get used to being friends with a mercenary. A violent, sadistic, psychotic mercenary who had a few screws loose but they were friends. And Peter didn't come by friends very often. There was Harry and MJ, yeah, but this was different.
“Deadpool?”Peter remembered how startled he was when Wade pushed him up against the wall with his palm flat against Spider-man's chest. Peter resisted the urge to crawl up the wall and escape the merc's grasp but even though he couldn't see the intense gaze beneath Wade's mask, he could most certainly feel it holding him in place.
“I'll show you mine if you show me yours.” Wade's voice had dropped lower than he'd heard it before, a certain deep tone that forced a chill down Peter's spine. He could distinctly recall how fast his face warmed and that he had been glad to be wearing a mask because he knew his cheeks were bright red from the innuendo.
But then Wade pulled off his mask and flashed him an incredulous smirk. His face was... shocking to say the least but as much as Deadpool had gone on and on about how revolting he was, joking about how rotten hamburger meat had better appeal than him, it wasn't what Peter was expecting. Yes the scars were there, prominent and taking up the majority of Wade's face but he was intriguing... handsome even in Peter's eyes and that was a new thought entirely because Peter had never thought that about anyone like he was now.
It took him a moment to realize that his hand had begun to reach out of its own accord, possibly with the intent of cupping Wade's cheek, but he altered its path and instead used the traitorous hand to tug up his own mask. His hair toppled down over his face, he'd been meaning to get it cut as it had grown more shaggy than usual, and he found himself beaming up at Wade.
The mercenary narrowed his eyes, examining Peter's face, focusing heavily on his eyes and how they were reflecting his own face... he was probably searching the boy, to see exactly what his reaction was to his scarred appearance. He must have found the appropriate response, however, because Wade's lips were covering his own before he could comprehend the action. His lips were rough, dry and the kiss was hard but not forced. It stunned Peter, his entire body going numb until his lips moved shyly beneath Wade's, pressing back hesitantly. The merc's hands caressed up Spider-man's back and Peter sighed into the kiss, relaxing as he found himself flush against Wade's body.
Peter smothered his loud groan of irritation into the pillow he'd pulled over his face. Why did he have these stupid memories. He just wanted to go back to sleep, not vividly remember his first kiss with that lying bastard. He told himself over and over that he should have seen it coming. How could he have expecting anything else from the merc with a mouth? It was part of his character to be unfaithful. He'd met the two people Wade had called his friends... and he was told the numerous times he'd stabbed them both in the back, locked them up in the 'box', abandoned them on an island, shot them in the leg...
It had been ridiculous to think that Wade would have stayed in an actual relationship with him... but than again, Wade hadn't cheated on him with just anybody. In fact, she wasn't anybody at all. She was Death. An entity. Someone Wade couldn't even actually physically be with but that was what Wade had gone off to do.
“Hey Spidey, what do you think. Sword or gun? No that wouldn't work, would it?” Deadpool had asked him casually one evening. “I'm thinking it'd have to be a pretty big force to do some actual damage.”
Peter looked up from the bed, where they had been laying naked in each others arms only a few minutes prior to Wade lunging up out of bed and pulling on his outfit. “What are you on about this time, babe?”
Peter stared at him for some time. Normal people would have been shocked and worried. They would have immediate risen out of bed to try and comfort their lover and convince them that life was always worth living. But this was Wade Wilson and Peter spent a good deal of time trying to figure out where exactly his boyfriend had gone and how he'd forgotten about his healing factor that denied him the simple human ability to die.
“I've decided I need to kill myself. Somehow. She's started to get jealous and-”
“She? Who's she?” That was new, that was something concerning unlike the topic of death.
“Death.” Wade spoke simply, examining his sword.
Except they were apparently on the topic of death... as something different and that didn't comfort Peter at all. “Who is she, Wade? And why would she be jealous?” His voice was tense, he wasn't in the mood for playing games especially with how casual Wade was being about it. But he would be understanding, give Wade time to explain and prove him wrong, that he shouldn't be worrying at all because Wade was faithful to him.
“Embodiment of Death. She's has the hots for me because I can't die. I'm the unobtainable one, the biggest challenge for her.”
Peter's voice trembled with jealousy and possession. “You're my boyfriend, Wade.”
“Come on Spidey, I was seeing her long before we met.”
That was one of the sentences that haunted Peter the most. During the entire time he had been seeing Wade, the soft kisses between the rough touches, the corny endearments mixed with the husk demands... it had all been a lie. Every day that Peter hoped would be the day when Wade finally admitted that he loved him... Wade had already proclaimed his love to some entity... some other worldly being that he couldn't actually be with. Spider-man was no longer a challenge for him... and because of that, Wade left in search of a sure-fire way to kill himself permanently.
There was nothing else to say to Wade after Peter's onslaught of accusations and hateful words. He'd expressed how betrayed he felt, how he should have expected this from Deadpool except he thought better of him and gave him the benefit of the doubt, but look where it got him. It was horrid... the things he'd said to Wade but they appeared to brush right over his shoulders, his mask was on but Peter knew Wade was staring blankly at him with that bored expression Peter wanted to slap right off his face.
Wade promised he would return if he failed at killing himself and there was something sad in his voice when he said it. He had even extended his hand, thumb nearly reaching Peter's cheek to wipe the tears that were streaming down his now ex-lover's face. It killed Peter to kick him out... to tell him to never come back and that he hoped... he hoped he died.
Peter sat up from the bed, grumbling as he ran his hands through his hair. He hated this. Losing sleep from the guilt and longing he felt for the person he should be cursing. To still want him back... laying in the bed mumbling incoherently in his sleep about Mexican food, pirate ships and the monkey that stole his grenade launcher.
Getting up, Peter pulled his Spider-man suit out of its secure drawer and fumbled into it. He had to get some fresh air and the freshest air in Manhattan wasn't down on the streets for a nice stroll. The web launched him out his window and onto the building across from him, swinging down the mostly empty streets.
“Can I come? Spidey? Can I? Please? Pleeeeease?” The voice whined in his ear as Peter climbed up the wall, ready to shoot a web and haul himself up to investigate the yells roughly three blocks away.
“No, Wade. Stay here.” Peter huffed, rolling his eyes under his mask that he had just pulled on.
“You can carry me on your back, give me webs to hold onto you... like reins!”
“That... Wade no. I can't even begin to describe how much that wouldn't work.”
“You did it in issue #19!”
“What...” Peter stared at his new boyfriend as though he had just grown another head, and knowing Deadpool that wasn't far from something he was capable of.
“Just do it!” Wade groaned, climbing on Spider-man's back and not giving him another chance to deny Wade the opportunity to humiliate him.
That was an uncomfortable experience despite how much it had made him laugh looking back on it. Peter folded his arms as he stood underneath the gargoyle, his feet sticking to it as he stared down at the people walking by below. With the blood rushing to his head from hanging upside down, maybe it would flood out these stupid emotions of longing for the dumb and playful mercenary. The man that curled up in a trademark hoody because he felt safe and warm in the arms of Spider-man when Peter wasn't around. The mercenary who actually took the time to shower off the blood and gunpowder before coming to visit him. The man who was oddly protective and jealous of anyone that got near him. It had been equally concerning and flattering when Wade pulled his katana on Harry when he ruffled Peter's hair. Later Wade explained that he was the only one allowed to violate Peter's Spidey-space.
Peter sighed... swinging around so that he could lay down on the top of the gargoyle instead. Maybe he should be considering himself lucky. Because as much as Wade was cute and flirtatious sometimes... he had also been rough to the point where Peter would wake up with bruises from how hard he had been pushed the previous night. Maybe it was better that they hadn't gone any further, because then he didn't have to think of how much more pain he would have had to endure from the man he loved.
This way, Death could put up with him. She could deal, and probably be impressed, with Wade's violent quirks. How he liked to stab himself in the leg when he was bored... how he liked to keep a gun underneath the pillow in bed and there was always dirty talk that verged on threatening to take the gun out and put it to use. It sent unpleasant chills down Peter's spine and he wasn't sure that was something he could have gotten used it. It was probably a blessing that he didn't know how their relationship could have... should have gone... if he had only gotten to Wade first.
Honestly though... Wade was missing out. For the amount that Peter had put up with, for how much he had loved him unconditionally, how he hadn't judged him based on looks and what everyone else said about him being a horrible person who brought destruction down on everybody near him... Wade was lucky. Wade was going to miss being with him and when he turned around and wanted Peter back, wanted to hold him in the night while he fended off penguins marching with machine guns in his sleep, Peter wouldn't be there. Wade could keep these memories, his stupid reasons, the space and freedom he wanted, hell he could even have those records that were most likely stolen property that he'd given Peter.
He could have everything because Peter was going to move on with his life, even if it meant denying himself what he desperately wanted right now. He wasn't going to think of Wade Wilson anymore... but he hoped Wade was going to be thinking of him.