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Chapter Text

Peter Parker was currently sitting at the table, his fathers staring at him expectantly, "Well?" Tony Stark said, his arms crossed.

"Look. I just wanted to help." Peter started.

"No. Don't bullshit me!" Tony snapped.

Steve Rogers put a hand on his husband's shoulder. "Take it easy."

"No, I won't. He shouldn't have been out where people could see him, he shouldn't have put himself in danger. What the hell were you thinking?"

"It- I told you!" Peter protested. "I just wanted to help! I've been cooped up for too long!"

Tony shot out of his chair, "I said don't bullshit me!"

"I'm not bullshitting you!"

"Go. Now. To your room. You're grounded until further notice."



"That's so unfair!"

"Life's never fair!" Tony bellowed.

"This is bullshit! I'm not a fucking kid anymore!"

"It's not bullshit! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Right, yeah, sure. Protect me from what? The walls of this house?! I'm done with your bullshit! I'm done with everyone's bullshit!"

Peter shot out of his seat abruptly, sending the wooden chair skidding across the floor. He heard the wood snap as it hit the wall, but he didn't care. His honey brown eyes glowed with fury as he stormed to his room. The door slammed behind him, the wood cracking. He locked the door, although the door was already jammed. Peter stomped towards the window, throwing the curtains aside and prying the window open. The icy air hit his lungs with such force that he gasped. It was refreshing. He screamed out the window, "FUCK!" and slammed his fists down onto his mattress. An idea popped in his head as he stared out the window. The infuriated teen grabbed his backpack and a sweatshirt, checking that the door was still jammed, and then, quietly, popped the screen out of place and jumped out the window, landing lightly.

He had no idea where he was going, but he didn't care right now. He just knew that he needed to get away from the confinements of his house, and the toxic substance that was Tony Stark.

Chapter Text

Wade Wilson sat in a crowd  of loud, drunken people. Across from him, stood a young girl, maybe in her twenties.

A groan escaped Wade, "Sorry Honey, not interested."

The woman, scowled, and turned away.

Wade sighed with relief, and sipped his whiskey. He looked towards the door as it opened, and his eyes widened.

Peter walked into the bar, and was immediately hit by chaos, and noise. He winced. As he fought his way to the bar, he could feel someone watching him. Peter ordered the strongest drink they had, and the bartender raised his eyebrows, but nodded.

When the bartender came back with peter's drink, he had a disgruntled look on his face.

Peter thanked the man, and went to go sit in a quieter corner, his mind racing.

Peter's thoughts were interrupted by a man sliding into the seat across from him. 

"Can I help you?" Peter asked, raising his voice to be heard over the commotion.

"Hi. I'm Wade. Wade Wilson." The stranger smiled, sticking his hand out for Peter to shake it.

Peter took Wade's hand, and shook it. "Peter Pa-. Hi, I'm Peter." Peter smiled.

Wade smirked and pulled his hand back. "Cute name, Baby Boy."

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Peter rolled his eyes at the pet name. "Pft, right. And what brings you here?"

Wade grinned back at peter, "I could ask you the same question, you don't look any older than 15."

Peter blushed slightly, but shrugged, "I'm 20, close enough, right?" Peter chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. He made a face at the taste, but swallowed it. "What is this, piss?"

Wade let out a hearty laugh, "I suppose you got the strongest drink here?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, nodding. "How'd you guess."

"Easy," Wade observed. "It looks like you got... Pincer Vodka?"

"That would explain it." Peter groaned.

"So, you never answered my question, Baby Boy; what brings you here?"

Peter bit his bottom lip, and flicked his eyes to Wade's. "Eh. Family issues, I had to get away for a bit."

Wade nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I get that."

Peter nodded again, taking a swig of his Vodka. He was starting to feel the effects of alcohol, could practically feel it flowing through his veins.

Wade flicked his tongue over his lip, watching Peter. "So... Peter, what do you say we go back to my place? We can just chill out, you know, chat, relax. Take some uneasiness off of ya.."

Peter considered the offer for a moment, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. "I can't," He finally said, "I have school. I- I mean, work."

Wade laughed outright when Peter said that, dropping his head to his elbow that was resting on the table. "School, eh? I thought you said you were 20."

Peter glared at the blonde, "College counts as school, right?"

Wade stopped laughing and thought about that for a moment, "Yeah.. I guess."

"Exactly," Peter said in triumph.

"Well, I can get you home faster if we go back to my place." Wade argued.

"W- Wade. I can't."

"Come on, Baby Boy," Wade pleaded, putting on a fake pout.

"Wade, oh my God, I can't."

Wade sighed, leaning back in his seat, "Fine.."

There was a moment of silence between them, broken by Peter. "Fine. Fine, as long as you have me home by 10:00. Got it?"

Wade grinned, and leaned forward. "You betcha," Wade practically purred.


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Peter and Wade walked out of the bar after grabbing Wade's jacket. Wade didn't stop smiling the whole time they were walking, as well flirt shamelessly, and make crude jokes and innuendoes about Peter's butt, which Peter only rolled his eyes at.

But as soon as they got into the car (Peter was too drunk to realize that it had tinted windows, and looked real sketchy) they were quiet. Peter mostly stared out the window, occasionally sneaking glances at Wade.


About thirty minutes later, they rolled to a stop in front of a fairly big house that seemed to scream "stay away", but then again, Peter was too drunk to notice. "Is this your garage," Peter slurred, his eyes wide.

Wade laughed, "No, Baby Boy, it's my house."

"Garage housee," Peter whispered.

Wade shook his head slightly, and got out of the car, going over to Peter's side to help him out. He opened the door and almost fell back in surprise as Peter came tumbling out the door. Wade caught him, and put an arm over his shoulder to keep him standing, "Easy there, tiger."

"Do you have fancy cars? Trucks? Planes?" Peter gasped, leaning into Wade. "Ooh, you're muscly," He giggled, squeezing Wade's shoulder.

Wade just huffed, and closed the car door. Without warning, he hoisted Peter into his arms, bridal-style.

Peter gasped softly, which resulted in him hiccupping, and then falling into a laughing fit.

Wade kept a straight face while walking up to the house, but there was a glint of amusement behind his serious expression. He opened the door with a bit of difficulty, and set Peter down on his couch. "Stay. I'm going to get you some water." He commanded.

Peter saluted as Wade walked away, "Yessir." He giggled.

Wade's skin tingled from where Peter's body heat was fading. He filled a glass to about halfway, put some Sonata in the water. He waited till the water was clear again, and then walked back to Peter and handed him the glass. "Drink. It'll make you feel better."

Peter held the glass up to his lips shakily, and took a sip, making a face. "It tastes likesalt," he complained drunkenly.

Wade sat down next to Peter on the couch, and turned the tv on. "Shh, it's okay. Just relax."

Peter snuggled against Wade's side, his eyes droopy. "Okay."

Wade wrapped an arm around Peter and checked the time. 9:46. Eh. So what, the kid wouldn't be home by 10:00, at least not if Wade carried on with his plan.

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Wade moved Peter to his bedroom, setting him on the bed gently. Doubt closed in as he watched the young boy. He was so young, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he were to take advantage of a drugged and drunk teen. Or at least he looked like a teen. 

With a deep breath Wade prodded the young boy, shaking him gently to get him to wake up. "Hey, Peter. Peter! Wake up, we gotta get you home."

The brunette opened his big brown eyes slowly, blinking rapidly to clear his vision of sleep. "What? W- where am I? Am I at May's? No. No, no, Steve?" Peter closed one eye and squinted at Wade. "No, definitely not Steve or  Tony. You're much cuter."

Wade sighed, but didn't try to hide the flattered blush that had risen to his cheeks. "Come on, Pete, let's get you home, your mom is probably worried about you."

"Mom? I have a mum?" Peter mumbled sleepily, while sitting up. "Where is she? I don't remember having a mom."

Wade rubbed his forehead, "I meant your dad, dads, whatever it is you have."

Peter surged to his feet, and realized that was a huge mistake. He toppled to the ground, his face hitting the carpeted floor painfully. "Why does the floor hate me? Why does everyone hate me?" He sobbed, his body shaking as he breathed.

Wade immediately dropped down to Peter, scooping the smaller boy into his arms. "Hey, hey, Peter, hey, shh. It's okay." He soothed the sobbing boy. "Let's get you home, hm?"

Peter managed to nod in agreement. "I feel so weird. Like I'm Jell-O, but I don't bounce." He giggled.

Wade sighed and started to walk towards the front door, opening it with more effort than needed. His hands gripped Peter when he felt the smaller boy begin to slip from his grasp. He opened the passenger side door and set Peter down gently, buckling him in, and then closing the door. He got into the car on the driver side, and backed out of the driveway, glancing at Peter to make sure he was secure. "Where do you live, Petey?" Nodding when he heard the brunette mumble an address.

So, on they drove, for about half an hour. When he saw the house number, he pulled up in the driveway, hurriedly cutting the ignition, and grabbing Peter, who was silent almost the entire time they drove. Peter mumbled sleepily as Wade carried him up to the door. Wade knocked sharply on the door, and waited a few minutes before he heard rapid footsteps hurry towards the door. The door flew open, and a blonde man followed by a brunette gaped at Wade, Peter in his arms.

"Oh my God, is he okay? Where was he? We were worried sick! Who are you? Where'd you find him? What happened?" the blonde babbled.

"I... I found him at the bar, he's o- out cold, and I think some- somebody slipped something in his v- vodka, I saw him p- pa- passed out in an alleyway, so I went over to see if he was okay, I p- put him in my car... I- I didn't know what to do."

The brunette narrowed his eyes at Wade. "Well, bring him inside! Oh my God, this is my fault, I sh- I shouldn't have..." Tony trailed off, pulling Steve by the elbow, to let Wade in. "Set him on the couch, I'll go get blankets, and water, Steve, be a dear and grab Peter a pillow?"

Steve nodded, and rushed upstairs to grab Peter's pillow.

Tony turned sharply to Wade, his eyes glowing with fury. "What the hell did you do to my son?"

Wade's eyes widened, and he held his hands up innocently. "W- what? Nothing!"

Tony grabbed the front of Wade's shirt and shoved him against the wall. "I said, what the hell did you to my son!" He growled. "See, Wade, if you don't tell me now, I'll have to-"

They were interrupted by Steve running back down the stairs, pillow in hand. He froze on the last step, his eyes flicking between Wade and Tony. "What's going on?"

Tony let go of Wade. "Ah, nothing. Just a man-to-man conversation."

"More like an interrogation." Wade mumbled, earning a glare from Tony.


Chapter Text

Tony laid the blanket over Peter, and lifted his head so that he could slip the pillow under his head. Steve watched from an armchair across from the couch. His eyebrows were furrowed with worry, and he glanced over at Wade, who was sitting on the floor by Peter, frequently.

"Would you stop that?" Wade growled, glaring at Steve and Tony. "I-" he was cut off by Tony, who angrily interrupted him.

"Cut the shit, Wade. Spit it out. What'd you do to Peter?"

Wade swallowed nervously, and sighed, rubbing his eyebrows. "Okay, okay, I- he was at the bar, and I sat down in front me. He told me he was Twenty. So, I started flirting with him, and we got talking, he was hammered by the time I talked him into coming home with me. But I swear, I didn't do anything! I wouldn't do that to anyone!" He blabbered.

Tony took a menacing step forward, "What. Did. You. Do?"

Wade met Tony's piercing glare, and clenched his jaw, "I may or may not have slipped him a sleeping drug..."

Tony's rage exploded, and he shot forward, knocking over the coffee table as he surged toward Wade, grabbing the man by the throat, "What did you just fucking say?!" He roared, shoving Wade against the wall with a sickening crack.

Wade groaned, his body pinned between the wall and Tony. Steve erupted from the armchair and tried to shove his husband off of the mercenary. "Tony! Not now, I swear you can beat his ass later, but not here, not now, not while Peter is right there. This man did something right, if you can believe it."

Tony shoved Steve away, his face red, and his eyes flashing dangerously. Suddenly, his face went pale, and he collapsed into the armchair, "Oh, God. What did I do? What the hell have I done? Peter, if you can hear me, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered. He put his head in his hands, and sighed deeply.

Steve stared at Tony in shock, worry, and fear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wade prying himself from the wall, pulling small pieces of wall from his skin. "I'm sorry. Really, I am."

Chapter Text

Peter woke up with a start. He blinked blearily up at the ceiling. Where was he? Why couldn't he move? Underneath him, his hands squeezed the couch cushions. Squishy.

Suddenly, Peter was aware of a white-hot pain in his head, and he cried out, his hand coming to slap against his face. The sudden movement made his stomach churn, and he started to convulse violently, his body lurching to the side. He felt something cold in his hands suddenly, and he sat up, retching into what was apparently a bowl. A groan escaped his lips after he was done. "What the fuck?"

Whoa, take it easy." A hand guided Peter back down against the couch, "You're okay. Do you need some water?-"

"Of course he needs water!" A sharp voice cut in.

"Then go get him some!" The other voice yelled, making Peter wince.

"Could you maybe quiet down a bit?" Peter rasped.

"Sorry, Pete. We were just worried sick about you." Steve murmured.

A glass of water was pushed into his hand, along with a pill. Red. Ibuprofen. He popped the pills in his mouth and chugged the water in one go. "What the hell happened?" Peter and Tony said at the same time.

"I can definitely see where the family resemblance comes from." Another voice chipped in.

That voice. Peter's stomach went cold, and his grip hardened on the glass, making it shatter. Peter jerked in surprise, his hand back. Something hot and sticky flowed down his hand. Red. Blood. It made Peter dizzy at the sight of the hot liquid running down his arm. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I'm so sorr-"

"Hey. Hey, it's okay." Steve said soothingly, picking the broken fragments of glass out of Peter's clothes and skin. "Tony. Go get me a warm, wet washcloth?"

There was a shuffling of shoes against carpet, as Tony hurried to the kitchen and wet a washcloth. He wringed it out until it was just damp, and hurried back to Steve, who pressed the cloth against Peter's arm.

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Peter stared at the blonde, his stomach clenching. His hands scrabbled for the bowl, and he found it. The metal slipped out of his hand. “Fu-“ Peter got half of his sentence out before he was violently convulsing. 

The unpleasant feeling of stomach acid burning his throat, combined with the feeling of vomit running down his chin made him shudder. His hands started stinging painfully and he looked down to see blood running down his arms and hands. 

Not even three seconds later, he felt firm but gentle hands on his shoulder, making him jerk away. The sudden movement made his stomach churn, but he fought the nausea down. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned out. 

The hands on Peter’s shoulders sat him up, and gently pulled him to his feet. “Oh, Pete. I’m so sorry,” Tony murmured. 

Peter didn’t know where they were going until his bare feet hit the cold tile of the bathroom floor. 

“I’m going to rinse you off,” A voice murmured.

That’s when Peter lost consciousness again. He didn’t feel the strong arms that wrapped around him to keep him from falling.

"Fucking Hell, kid. Didn't your parents teach you about underage drinking?" Wade mumbled to himself as he started the bath. 

Chapter Text

Wade Wilson, A.K.A. Deadpool, was being kind and caring for once. Oh, how the world had turned.

The water was still running when he stripped Peter Parker of his clothes and set him in the tub. The water rippled around the small boy's body as he shifted slightly. Wade watched him for a moment before remembering that the water was still running. He quickly shut the water off and grabbed a washcloth, pouring body-wash on the cloth and rubbing the fabric together so that it was soapy and bubbly. He started with the boy's arm, washing the cuts on his arm gently but thoroughly. He did the same to the other arm, and moved on to his chest. The smell of alcohol hung around the bathroom in sickening waves. But as Wade continued to wash the brunette, it became a faint tinge. Like a lingering scent when somebody vomits.

Wade shook his head to clear his thoughts, and scrubbed Peter's legs. Probably a bit too rough, because at that moment, Peter jerked and his wide brown eyes shot open. He lurched forward, spraying water everywhere, his legs and arms flailing in panic.

It was a surprise, really. One moment it was quiet and peaceful. The next it was a bathtub battle. Wade yelled out as Peter accidentally backhanded him in the process of trying to grab onto something. He ended up grabbing Peter's wrist to stop him from almost hitting him again, which resulted in more violent thrashing. 

Without thinking, Wade surged to his feet, bringing Peter with him. He pinned his wrists to the wall above his head and moved his hips forward to stop Peter's thrashing legs and hips. "Peter." He growled lowly. His face was inches apart from the smaller boy's face.

Peter blinked at him with wide eyes. Blinking slowly, he took a moment to assess the situation that they were in. 

Peter was pinned to the wall, with his hips pinned by Wade's hips. He was naked, and Wade was soaking wet.

"What- what are you doing?" Peter sputtered, trying to wiggle his hips away from the friction of Wade's jeans.

"What do you think I'm doing?!" Wade hissed, still oblivious to the position they were in.

"Uh, well... I'm here. Alone. With you. In a locked bathroom. My locked bathroom, I'm naked, and pinned to the wall... so what do I think you're doing? Hell, Wade, I have no fucking clue." the brunette huffed in frustration, still wiggling his hips awkwardly. His hands were starting to tingle from lack of blood circulation, and he wiggled again. He felt something drip down his thigh, and he froze.

Wade seemed to realize what was going on, but he didn't move until he felt Peter's hot breath fan across his face. He started to move away, when he stopped. Something wet and definitely not water, rested on his upper thigh. Both men looked down to see the boy's proud erection against his stomach, dripping a wet substance.

Wade swallowed thickly, and shifted his weight awkwardly. "Uh... you should probably finish up, are there any spare clothes I could borrow?" he said quickly.