Work Text:
Sometimes I find myself reminiscing,
Especially when I have to watch other people kissing
And I remember when you started calling me your missus,
All the play fights, all the flirtatious disses
Wade sat at a table at a 24-hour diner, staring out the window at lord-knows-how-late. The couple across from him just wouldn’t keep their hands off each other, sharing sloppy kisses and hand holding and other sappy bullshit things couples do.
*Just shoot them and we wouldn’t have to deal with this!*
**Absolutely not, this is the only place left in New York that will let us eat here.**
Wade didn’t comment, just let the boxes have their debate, thinking about the skinny man that he’d been doing the same things with, had he still been around.
I told you sad stories about my childhood,
I don’t know why I trusted you, but I knew that I could
Wade cracked.
He didn’t mean to, honest, he’s always kept on truckin’, maybe as a defective wheel, but not a broken one.
Until one day when that stupid little spider broke him.
Wade didn’t cry, because he was man - a manly man who kills other men for a living and manly man-killing men do not cry, but Peter would beg to differ. Wade told him everything, from as young as he could remember, to his cancer, to how everything changed once he got those nasty-ass tumors and scars and he suddenly became as repulsive as the scum and trash that lines the streets. And trash he became, living in a shit apartment and murdering for a living.
Wade was strong, Wade was crazy, and his conditions never necessarily broke him before, but once Peter pressed his lips to his for the first time, everything fell apart. With the loving touches to his marred face and skin and doe-eyed glance into his eyes, Wade didn’t feel like a monster for once since his cancer.
We’d spend the whole weekend lying in our own dirt,
I was just so happy in your boxers and your t-shirt
"Pete, you’re like half my size, I could squish you, there’s no way I’m gonna fit in your clothes." Wade teased, poking Peter’s cheek.
"You don’t have much choice, do you?" Peter teased back, brushing a hand down the other man’s bare chest to prove his point. "I have some oversized shirts somewhere, but I’m not getting up yet."
Peter was on top of Wade on the bed in his apartment, surrounded by dirty clothes and empty beer cans. It was getting hot in the bedroom, with the broken air conditioner that Wade will get around to fixing maybe this year, but it was nothing to the already sweaty lovers who had barely slept the night before.
"I appreciate you being a human blanket, baby boy, but we have to get up sometime," Wade murmured with a kiss to Peter’s forehead.
"Sometime is not now. Stay."
Peter only clung to scarred skin tighter and gave Wade no room to complain.
Not that he would, anyways.
Dreams, dreams, of when we had just started things,
Dreams of me and you
And it seems, it seems, that I can’t shake those memories,
I wonder, if you have the same dreams, too?
Wade couldn’t look at anywhere else but the ceiling. His breathing hard, ragged, and the only sound in the room, he cursed himself for having another one of those damn dreams.
It’s cold in his bed, even with the a/c still busted. He barely registers the emptiness of the bed anymore when he’s stuck like this, waiting for his breathing to even out so he can manage another hour of sleep before he’s interrupted again.
The littlest things that take me there,
I know it sounds lame but it’s so true
I know it’s not right but it seems unfair,
The things that are reminding me of you
"Let’s get this show on the road!" He announced to no one, grabbing another magnum on the nightstand and slipping it down his boot.
**You think you have enough guns? You only have enough to equal your own body weight.**
"Silly box, you can never have enough guns! You never know when having fifty on your person will come in handy." Wade replied, sliding his katanas on his back.
Before Wade could walk out the door, he looked at his living room - the couch that they’d cuddle on for hours on the slow days, the game consoles they’d stay up late playing with when they weren’t having sex, the dent in the wall from when he scared the spider so bad he clung to the wall in all of his superhuman glory - and held down the bad memories that threatened to swell his thoughts, leaving faster than he thought possible.
Sometimes I wish we could just pretend,
Even if only for one weekend
So come on, tell me,
Is this the end?
Was he doing something wrong, or was Peter finally realizing he was dating a fucked up abomination?
He seems more distant, guilty to return Wade’s touches, and Wade may compete with patients in the nearby loony bin, but he wasn’t an idiot.
He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know. He just silently (for once in his life) let the pieces fall as they may.
Drinkin’ tea in bed, watching DVD’s
When I discovered all your dirty grotty magazines
Peter was a little scared when he walked into his apartment and saw the shit eating grin upon Wade’s face before he even had time to take his mask off.
"What, what did I do?" Peter started, looking down his torso to see if there was anything worth laughing at.
When Wade held up one of his porno magazines, Peter was thankful he hadn’t taken off his mask, or the other man would see the blush that was occupying his face.
"Oh, baby boy, how distasteful!" Wade cackled, wrapping an arm around Peter’s waist and pulling him against his own chest. "But now I’m here to make sure you’ll never have to use these ever again."
Peter laughed, breathlessly from the fading embarrassment, and pulled his mask up to take Wade up on his promise.
You’d take me out shopping, and all we’d buy is trainers,
As if we ever needed anything to entertain us
Filling the shoes of his new red stiletto heels courtesy of Peter Parker, Wade bottomed this time. He moans so loud that it makes up for his scars, he thinks, as Peter’s rhythmic fucking loses its tempo.
"Fuck," Peter gasps as his orgasm draws near.
"Yes, Pete, that’s what you’re doing, and - ah, shit! - you look so hot like this. Come on baby boy, let yourself go." Wade grunts, biting Peter’s throat and digging his heels into his back as he comes.
Peter even has the courtesy of grabbing Wade’s cock and pumping it mercilessly, so Wade’s orgasm comes just as Peter’s fades.
The first time that you introduced me to your friends,
And you could tell that I was nervous so you held my hand
"We know who he is, Peter, we just think it’s a bad idea," Tony had said. He gave Wade a threatening glare.
"Relax, tin man, I ain’t out to get ol’ Petey here. We’re just fucking, that’s all!"
**Maybe not the best choice of words to use.**
*But it’s true!*
Peter blushed, he wasn’t ready for how Wade nervously babbled when under pressure (as compared to his regular babbling), and grabbed his hand.
"Thanks for your input, Tony, really, I’m glad you’re worried about me, but I’m fine. Let’s go, Wade." Peter said while watching his tone and pulling Deadpool away so that all he could do was wave with his non-captive hand.
*Oh! Are we eating? Come on, man, I’m so hungry I could kill for food!*
"We already do that."
*Right! Well, the point still stands!*
"Let’s go eat somewhere, Peter!"
When I was feeling down, you make that face you do,
There’s no one in the world that could replace you
When Peter locked eyes with Mary Jane, Wade knew it was over.
Just look at her! She’s beautiful, especially with that smile on her face, she was smart and she was everything Spidey would have wanted. When he looked down at Peter, he could tell he was thinking the same thing.
They weren’t really a thing, were they?
So really, they didn’t matter.
"Go talk to her, Peter, before she gets away."
Peter looked up at Wade in confusion and badly-hidden hope.
"Really? No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here," Peter responded, more out of guilt than anything.
"It’s not fine, that girl’s a babe! Get over there before I do!" Wade shoved Pete, who looked back and gave him the look - the fucking look, the doe-eyed one that said to Wade that he was figuratively fucked that he wasn’t able to hold on to Peter as much as he should have.
"I’ll be here if you don’t score, but forget about that. Good luck, hombre!" With another urging push, Peter smiled and was gone.
He did score. He never came back.
Dreams, dreams, of when we had just started things,
Dreams of me and you
And it seems, it seems, that I can’t shake those memories,
I wonder, if you have the same dreams, too?
Peter Parker was a fucking idiot. This wasn’t what he wanted.
Mary Jane was lovely, absolutely lovely, but it didn’t compare to when he was with Wade.
He wondered, laying in bed with MJ curled up against his side, if Wade thought about what they had together.
The littlest things that take me there,
I know it sounds lame but it’s so true
I know it’s not right but it seems unfair,
The things that are reminding me of you
Sometimes I wish we could just pretend,
Even if only for one weekend
So come on, tell me
Is this the end?
Peter fought up the nerve to call.
"Wade?"
"Who is this?"
"Wade, it’s Peter."
"Oh, Pete! Hey, how’s it going in your neighborhood? Must be doing great, with how busy you are, an-"
"I miss you."
There was a hesitant silence. Unusual for Wade. Peter was scared whether it meant if he was mad or relieved to hear the words.
"But what abo-"
"It doesn’t matter," Peter cuts him off again, shaking his head. "Can I come over?"
Another pause.
"Sure thing, if you really want to. You know, I’m doing great if this is something about pity. You really don’t have to worry."
"It’s not, I promise. I just, I really need to see you."
Wade’s on a roll with awkward silences today. Peter doesn’t blame him.
"Okay. I’m here all day," Wade says. He can tell he’s failing at sounding levelheaded.
Peter immediately hangs up the phone, grabs his stuff and takes off out the door without letting himself think about what he’s doing.
Peter Parker is a fucking idiot, but he’s going to fix some of what he’s messed up.