Gunshots flew around him, roaring in his ears and impacting every surface—including one that hit the center of his desk, ruining the wood.
A petty thing to be upset about, but Peter had just bought that desk!
The bullets paid no mind to his internal mourning for his office furniture and kept raining around his head. Peter dodged the ones that got close to him using his Spider-Sense, praying he looked sloppy enough with his dives that no one would notice the business man had impeccable reflexes. He cursed under his breath as the fighting around him destroyed his office further with another bullet hitting his computer monitor and another getting too close to the box under it. Despite his best efforts, the chaos of the situation grew too much and Peter’s Spider-Sense grew overwhelmed with the sheer danger around him
A dodge from one thug knocked him into another and the next thing Peter knew, he had been flung out of the gaping hole in the glass of his windows where the gun toting minions had entered.
He readied his web shooter and an excuse in his head for how he survived the fall—
“Got you!” Deadpool yelled. He crashed into Peter, wrapping his arms around him in a mock hug as the man dove across the gap between the buildings. They crashed into the nearest window a story or two beneath Peter’s office and rolled with Deadpool’s hand keeping Peter’s head still. The gunshots filled the air above them, coming from the building across the street and his office above. Deadpool kept Peter pinned to the ground and grunted with each bullet impact that slammed into his back. “Stay low. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to Spidey’s sugar daddy!”
“I know I could be his sugar daddy just as easy but I doubt Webs would let me if I let his current one kick the bucket!” Deadpool shouted. The gunshots stopped and he got up and looked out the window. He pulled his gun out of his holster and fired twice, scanned across the area, and shot three times more. “There we go! I think that’s all of them that can see us.”
The area went quiet and Peter didn’t hear the sounds of retaliating shots, confirming Deadpool’s statement.
Peter sat on the office floor and held his hand over his torn sleeve to cover the exposed fabric of his Spider-Man costume. Deadpool ducked his head out of the broken glass to look around and do one last check on the intruders. The room was empty to Peter’s relief. The building’s emergency alert had worked and he was glad he’d hit it after the men broke into his office. Peter didn’t stand as long as Deadpool remained tense in his at-the-ready position despite the supposed win on his part.
“And they’re not dead by the way!” Deadpool said. He pointed at Peter while keeping his eye on the window. “So don’t tell Webs that I was killing people when he wasn’t watching because I didn’t!”
“Sure,” Peter said, proud despite it all. His Spider-Sense remained at ease and he stood up when he saw the drop of Deadpool’s shoulders as he relaxed. Peter made sure to keep his hand over the tear in his sleeve and looked out the window, seeing the men who’d attacked his office dragging their wounded away with shouts into a radio. He turned his head up and didn’t see any stragglers in his office either, implying that they’d retreated. “Do you know who they were?”
“Nope!” Deadpool said. He shoved his gun into his holster and popped up. “I was minding my own business stalking your building for a sign of Spidey and saw them climbing up the side of your office window. After that, I had to get involved! I can’t let anything happen to Spidey’s main squeeze!”
Deadpool paused again before he spoke.
“I mean. Especially not after that whole shooting you and bringing you back from the dead thing.” Deadpool said, scratching the back of his head with the muzzle of his gun. “That would make us all look bad.”
“Spider-Man and I aren’t dating,” Peter said, shoving down the bubble of anger. He’d forgiven Deadpool. He’d forgiven him. He’d—Peter squeezed his arm and steadied himself. “For the record.”
“You sound like you’ve said that before.”
“I have,” Peter said, snorting. He crossed his arms, hand still over the tear in his sleeve, and kept his back straight. He called on his inner Harry to keep up the “I’m rich and powerful” persona that he needed at the moment. “I’ve been correcting that assumption since we were in high school.”
Deadpool shoved his gun in his holster with a widening of his mask eyes. “High school?”
Peter tilted his head and his mouth quirked into a tiny smile. “A big Spidey-Fan like you doesn’t know?”
“I’m sure I do, but tell me anyway,” Deadpool said. He rolled his shoulders and reached up to pluck a bullet out of his shoulder. He flicked it away and laughed. “I always love hearing about Spidey even if I’ve heard it before.”
Deadpool tilted his head and listened to something only he could hear once more.
“Yeah, that was the truth,” Deadpool said. He nodded twice and threw his hands out. “Hit me with the Spidey trivia!”
Peter laughed and held up his hands like he was holding his camera, risking the chance Deadpool might see his costume. “I made money in high school selling his pictures to the Daily Bugle. Literally everyone I knew was aware that Spider-Man and I were friends, even bad guys. Do you know how many villains knocked on my door trying to get in contact with Spider-Man?”
“That would explain your remarkable calm in this situation after getting shot at and saved by the guy who shot you in the head.”
“You can stop bringing that up.”
“I don’t think I can,” Deadpool said. He held his hand up in a finger gun pose and pulled it back like he was shooting. “It was sort of a thing.”
“Anyway,” Peter said, stressing every syllable. He slapped his hadn’t back over his torn sleeve and shrugged. “The end point is you’re not the first person to assume Spider-Man and I are sleeping together. Which we’re not.”
Deadpool leaned closer and rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger. “That sounded defensive.”
“But true,” Peter said. The closest thing he’d done to sleeping with Spider-Man was wear the costume when he relieved tension in the privacy of his own bedroom. Which had only happened once. Or twice. Peter flushed and cleared his throat. “We’re just friends.”
“The best of,” Peter said, nodding to himself. He snorted and shook his head as he caught himself. “I’m kidding about that part. We’ve just known each other a long time and like working together, but I wouldn’t say we’re that close.”
“He turned you down, didn’t he?” Deadpool asked. He crossed his arms, nodded and threw his head back. “He’s a tough one to get, so I feel you man.”
“I’m not talking about his love life.”
It reminded Peter too much of his own horrible one.
“So if you don’t mind, I’m going to go let everyone upstairs know I’m not dead and make sure security caught the stragglers you didn’t shoot,” Peter said. He pointed behind him at the door to the office they had landed in. “Do you want me to mention you or not?”
“Mention me!” Deadpool said, jumping up and down. “Make sure they know I saved you! It’s got to win me some points with Spider-Man!”
“Maybe,” Peter said, fighting the fond smile. He licked his teeth and turned around to walk to the door. “But not even saving his sugar daddy is enough to get in his pants!”
He laughed under his breath as Deadpool cursed behind him.
A week or so later after they confirmed the attack was a random attempt on Peter Parker’s life by some idiot with too much free time, Deadpool asked Spider-Man a question: “Have you ever slept with your boss Parker?”
“No,” Peter answered. He tossed a piece of lettuce from his taco at Deadpool’s head. “And you knew that already. I know for a fact Peter told you we were just friends.”
“Yeah, but he lied about you two being best friends, so who knows what else he covered up?” Deadpool held his arms out to balance as he walked along the edge of the building roof they shared take out on. “I mean, for someone who claimed you two ‘weren’t that close’ he sure tells you everything.”
“Only the things that deal with heroes and villains,” Peter said. He bit into his taco and wiped a loose bit of taco sauce off his lip. “We don’t talk about our personal lives. It’d be too easy to accidentally slip up about my secret identity, and for the record, he doesn’t know who I am either.”
Peter took another bite of the taco and regretted that last bit. He usually tried to stick to the truth when he spoke with Deadpool, making sure to only tell lies through omission instead of straight out falsehoods.
It was impossible for Peter Parker to not know who Spider-Man was. They were one and the same person.
He took another bite of the taco, finishing it off and shoving the last bit of it inside his mouth with his thumb. Deadpool nodded along to himself, taking a bite out of his own chimichanga, still half in its wrapper.
If he noticed Peter had lied, he didn’t say anything about it.
“I bet he asked you out though. There’s no way he didn’t,” Deadpool said, returning to the conversation. He snickered under his mask with a hand near his face. “I’d love to have seen Parker’s face when you turned him down. I bet he looked like a kicked puppy.”
Peter pulled his mask down and tossed the taco wrappers into the take out bag.
“Actually,” Peter said, feeling like having a bit of fun. He’d already told one little white lie, so why not add some teasing while he was at it? “It was the other way around. I asked Peter out and he turned me down.”
“I don’t believe you,” Deadpool said without missing a beat. He finished off the last few bites of his food before pointing at Peter’s face. “No one would turn down Spider-Man.”
The laugh bubbled up and left his lips before Peter could stop it. It started as a giggle and turned into a full on laugh while Deadpool stared at him with the whites of his mask wide enough they might as well have been circles.
“Trust me,” Peter said. He got up and crumbled the small bag of trash and dropped it into the roof trash can. “I’ve been turned down plenty in my life and many times it was specifically because I was Spider-Man.”
In addition to the few times it was because he was Peter Parker for good measure.
Deadpool crossed his arms, flexing the muscles. Peter’s eyes lingered on them for a moment too long and almost missed it when Deadpool said, “I still don’t believe you.”
“He couldn’t handle the masked life,” Peter said, giving a legitimate reason for one of his broken relationships. It was even halfway true—Peter had a difficult time more than once with his job as a hero and debates of whether to give it up or not. He waved at his costume to reinforce his statement. “The job was a deal breaker.”
“So he’ll hire you for a bodyguard but not sleep with you?” Deadpool laughed and spread his legs a foot apart to stand up straighter. Peter appreciated his height as he leaned his head back to look up at him. Deadpool grinned under the mask and held a finger up to shake it back and forth. “Try another one. You’re better at jokes than that.”
“The joke here is that you seem to think I’m so irresistible that no one would turn me down for any reason,” Peter said. He flicked Deadpool in the center of his mask and hopped up on the building ledge. “See you later, Deadpool.”
He jumped off the ledge and released his webbing to swing away.
Peter laughed at the “But you are!” Deadpool called out after him.
“You had a chance at Spider-Man’s perfect ass and said no,” Deadpool said, sitting on the edge of Peter’s temporary desk while his office was under repairs. He kicked his legs back and forth, rattling the swords and many gun holsters on his person. “I heard that information a week ago and I still can’t believe it.”
“Hello to you too, Deadpool,” Peter said. He had an attractive, buff man sitting on his desk—that was one way to make his afternoon of paperwork more appealing. “Do you always start conversations with a comment on someone’s sex life?”
Deadpool held his hand up and waved it in a so-so fashion. “Depends on the day.”
“Good to know,” Peter said. He dropped his stack of papers on the back of the desk behind Deadpool’s ass and pulled his chair out to sit. “And so what if I did? Isn’t it better for you if there’s less competition for Spider-Man’s heart?”
The swords on Deadpool’s back knocked over a stack of papers as the man turned, putting one knee on the surface of the desk as he faced Peter. “While that may be true, I still need to hear it for myself that you turned down Spidey-Ass.”
“I turned down Spider-Man,” Peter said, looking Deadpool in the eyes. “Ass and all.”
“The fact you said that with a straight face makes me dislike you even more and I didn’t think that was possible,” Deadpool said. He reached over and poked Peter in the nose, rubbing a bit of dirt off his gloves. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell Spidey that, though. You have no reason to, but I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“I won’t tell him,” Peter assured. Spider-Man had already heard for himself. Peter tugged a paper half-out from Deadpool’s own finely shaped ass and tapped them straight. “If that’s all, I do have work I need to finish.”
Pretty sight or not, he did have work to get done.
And Deadpool’s ass was distracting.
“Nah, I’m also here for recon,” Deadpool said. He hopped up and sat fully on the desk, lying on his side and resting his head against his hand as he held himself up with an elbow. “What was Spidey like in high school? Do you have any good teasing stories I can use to flirt?”
“If I did, why would I tell them to you?” Peter asked. “He’d know where you heard them and is it really in my best interest to make my bodyguard angry?”
“We both know Spider-Man would not let those personal feelings affect his job,” Deadpool said. He poked Peter in the nose again and propped a foot on the desk, bending his knee in a suggestive position. “He might even be happy we’re getting along.”
Peter conceded to the truth in that statement, but still found a flaw in Deadpool’s plan.
“I hate to break it to you, but any embarrassing stories I have about Spider-Man involve him making a mistake and getting thrown around like a ragdoll by a Villain,” Peter said, remembering his early days. His mistakes that more often or not led to someone getting hurt. “And no amount of playful flirting using those stories will get you under Spider-Man’s costume.”
Deadpool sat up and put his arms around his knees, further crinkling the paperwork on Peter’s temporary desk.
“I’ll take your word on it,” Deadpool said. “So what would get me in there? He clearly wanted into your pants at one point, so what’s his type? What gets Spidey going?”
“Vanity,” Peter answered. If Spider-Man really did want Peter Parker that way, he’d be wanting himself. “I made him look good in those photos I took, no matter what lies the Bugle cooked up.”
Deadpool held his breath and his fingers twitched on his legs. Peter caught the slight shift as he moved his butt, further ruining his papers.
“I just had the best daydream of you taking photos of Spider-Man naked and making out as they developed in one of those old school dark rooms,” Deadpool said, falling back to sprawl out once more on his side. “Even with the mask on and your overall average looks, it was hot.”
Peter shook his head and dared to reach over and shove Deadpool in the chest. “Get off my desk. Unlike your daydream, it’s not attractive and you’re messing up my stuff.”
“Liar,” Deadpool said, appropriately calling Peter out: Deadpool sprawled on his desk was hotter than he wanted to admit. The man rolled onto his back in a manner that had to be uncomfortable with two swords and a solid surface under him and put his hand on his chest, stroking up and down. “The only person more irresistible than Spider-Man is yours truly.”
“Should I tell Spider-Man you’re flirting with me?” Peter asked. He put his cheek in his hand and clicked his tongue. “What if he gets jealous?”
Deadpool rolled onto his chest and turned so he could fully face Peter. His lower half hung over the edge of the desk as he scooted forward so he was nose to nose with Peter. “Do you think he would be? Do you think my chances would be better if Webs was jealous?”
“No,” Peter said. He felt cheeky despite his costume off and locked away and patted Deadpool’s cheek. “If you really want into his pants, you should ask him properly.”
“I do that all the time!” Deadpool said, smacking his hands on the desk. “He always says no.”
“Have you asked seriously or just made jokes in his direction hoping to get a reaction?”
Deadpool looked away and asked under his breath “Have I?”
Peter tapped his fingers on the desk as Deadpool gathered his thoughts. What was he doing? Did Peter want to sleep with Deadpool? Should he be encouraging the easily influenced man? Would he even say yes if Deadpool took things more seriously?
Wasn’t it cruel to give him relationship advice if he was going to turn him down later as Spider-Man?
“Hey, Parker,” Deadpool said. He snapped his fingers in front of Peter’s eyes. “You still in there?”
“Sorry,” Peter said. Deadpool gave him a look of concern that translated straight through the mask the way it always did. “I was thinking.”
“About what?” Deadpool asked. He crossed his arms on the desk. “Tell Doctor Deadpool all about it.”
Peter's chest swelled with warmth from the endearing sincerity and his eyes raked across the man’s muscles.
He could do worse.
He’d dated worse.
Deadpool did save his life the other week. The least Peter could do was give him a chance.
“If you really want into Spider-Man’s pants,” Peter said. He leaned forward and whispered into the side of Deadpool’s mask. “You might want to get off his desk and stop crinkling his paperwork.”
The other man didn’t move, but Peter caught the slight intake of breath.
“No,” he whispered. He jerked his head to the side and looked Peter in the eye. “You’re not.”
“Are you too disappointed I’m average looking?” Peter asked. “Or that you never noticed I had the same ass as Spider-Man?”
“But I shot—”
“You’re really not getting into my pants if you don’t stop bringing that up.”
Deadpool snapped his mouth shut under his mask.
Peter reached up and fiddled with his tie, undoing the knot and slipping it off. Deadpool’s head tilted down to watch his fingers as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it open to reveal the costume under it.
“Does that help as proof?” Peter asked. “Or do you want to see the web shooters?”
Deadpool’s face stayed locked on the exposed costume and looked back up to Peter’s face. “No, that’s good enough.”
Peter crossed his arms on his desk. “Did you still want to ask a certain something or did you change your mind?”
“Still asking,” Deadpool said. He nodded three times and pushed off the desk to stand behind it. “Definitely still asking.”
“Spider-Man,” Deadpool said. He walked around the desk and took to one knee. He held up a hand and put the other over his chest. “Would you give me the honor of blowing you under your desk while you do paperwork?”
Peter coughed and scooted his chair back. “I’m not sure how much paperwork I’ll get done, but since you asked so nicely I guess I’ll let you have your way.”
“I’m calling you Spidey,” Deadpool said, diving under the desk. He grabbed the chair legs and yanked Peter back into the proper sitting position behind the desk. “I’ll wrap my head around the Spider-Man is his own boss thing later, but right now, sit back and let me do all the work.”
Peter dropped his head forward and covered it with his arms as Deadpool’s rough gloved hands pulled at the front of his belt and pulled his pants open. The bulk of him barely fit under Peter’s temporary desk but he made it work. Peter’s legs smacked against the sides of the desk as Deadpool fitted between his legs. He heard the shift of material as Deadpool shoved his mask up.
“That costume must be comfortable to wear under your clothes like this,” Deadpool said, laughing as he tugged on Peter’s trousers. He went for the seams of his costume and pulled it down with Peter’s underwear. Already half hard from Deadpool sprawling on his desk, there was no mistaking Peter’s own interest. Deadpool whistled and Peter could feel his hot breath on his skin. “Now that’s what I’ve been dying to see!”
“Shit,” Peter exclaimed as Deadpool took Peter into his mouth. The heat and rough skin of his lips felt amazing and he jerked his hips forward to go deeper. “We should have done this months ago.”
Deadpool paused, leaning his cheek against Peter’s thigh. “Only months?”
“It’s not the time for that argument,” Peter said. He reached under the desk and grabbed the back of Deadpool’s head. His fingers dug into the mask and he yanked his head back into position. “Go back to what you were doing.”
“Yes, sir,” Deadpool said. His entire body shivered and he reached up to grab Peter’s waist. “Keep talking like that.”
Peter groaned and kept his hand on the back of Deadpool’s head as he returned to what he’d been doing—and boy did Deadpool know what he was doing. “You’re unfairly good at this.”
Deadpool chuckled around him and leaned back to kiss Peter’s thigh. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Peter cursed and grabbed the desk at the next burst of pleasure courtesy of Deadpool’s mouth and pressed his forehead into the surface.
It didn’t take long for him to finish and Deadpool patted his thigh as Peter caught his breath and slumped against the desk.
“You aright boss?” Deadpool asked, crawling out just enough from under the desk to cross his arms over one of Peter’s knees. “You look satisfied, but a guy likes to hear it.”
“You were very good,” Peter said, patting Deadpool’s back. “Give me a few minutes for the feeling to return to my limbs and I’ll return the favor.”
“I’ll take a rain check,” Deadpool said. He pushed the rolling chair back and got up. He kissed Peter on the head and patted his shoulders. “I’m sure we’re pushing our luck as it is and I’m not sure how much longer your security is going to be fooled by the camera loop I set up to hide I was in your office.”
Peter jerked his head toward the camera in the corner and covered his face. “I forgot about the cameras.”
“You did, I didn’t!” Deadpool said. He ruffled Peter’s hair and moved his hands down to yank Peter’s shirt closed again, covering up the costume. “Meet me on our favorite roof later tonight?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Peter said. He rested on his elbow, watching Deadpool with a smile. “I’ll make sure Spider-Man shows up, too.”
“I’ll bring the tacos!” Deadpool waved and ran out the office door. “Don’t be late!”
Peter laughed and collapsed on the desk, resting his head in his arms. He looked at the paperwork sprawled out on his desk and the forms that had fallen on his floor. Peter allowed himself a few moments to collect himself and rearrange his suit before he got up and collected the papers.
If Spider-Man wanted to make it on time to meet Deadpool on the roof, he’d have to get his paperwork done.
The added motivation worked wonders, and after a quick check to make sure that his earlier activities were not caught on camera, Peter left the building and changed into his costume.
Peter flew across the city, yelling in joy like he used to do back in high school.
He found Deadpool waiting for him on the roof and felt no shame crashing into the man, falling into his waiting and open arms the same way Peter Parker had fallen in them two weeks earlier.