Disconnection

Peter spent majority of the next day checking his phone. Should I text him first? Is that too desperate? Maybe he doesn't want to talk to me? He didn’t really have much experience with relationships, so he resorted to googling his questions, finding countless others (mainly love-struck teenagers) doing the same. He had thought about asking his new therapist about it, but he didn’t know if he trusted her to keep it confidential from his parents. Their appointment earlier that morning consisted mostly of her asking a lot of questions, some which he had lied to. He felt slightly guilty but he didn't want her pitying him. So he had one option. Google it.

After an hour of ‘research’ he was still where he started, clueless about what to do. He debated asking his dads, but they would undoubtedly jump to conclusions about what was between him and Deadpool. Wade, he corrected himself.

But what was between him and Wade? He felt a little too eager to see him again, but he couldn't help it. He felt himself grinning at the memory of yesterday with him. He wondered if wade was seeing anyone, but he hoped he wasn't. Why would I care though? Peter thought to himself. Who cares if he has a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, he thought, recalling something wade had said last night. As he phrased it, “All genders can play in this pool”.

Peter couldn't deny that he felt attracted to Wade. But who knew if he felt the same way?

“Fuck it” he thought to himself. He picked up his phone and entered Wade’s number in, debating what to send.

Hey, it's Peter, Wanna hang out sometime? I would kill for some more tacos if you're up for it?

There. It was simple but not desperate. If they were just grabbing food it gave Wade the chance to say he already ate if he didn't want to come.

He anxiously waited for a reply, mindlessly scrolling through his phone to pass the time. It had been only ten minutes since he sent the message, but it felt like hours had passed. He slipped in his earphones, put on a random playlist, and waited.

-------------

Peter was woken up to the sound of Jarvis, alerting him that dinner had been served. After untangling his earphone cord from around his neck, he eagerly checked his phone, expecting a message from Wade, but his mood dropped when he saw the screen was still blank. He slipped it in his pocket and made his way to the dining table, where Steve, Tony and Bruce were already seated with Natasha and Clint. As they both currently lived at the tower, they regularly joined them for dinner, depending on their current mission statuses.

Tony was fiddling with some piece of technology as Steve looked at him annoyed. “Tony, can you please leave that for a second while we eat? We talked about this, no work at the table!”

Tony huffed like a child, but put it down. As Peter sat down, he saw Natasha smirk at Tony, making a whipping motion which seemed to amuse Steve.

“So Peter, what did you do today?” asked Steve.

Peter looked down at his food, not wanting to admit that his day was a total waste. “Uhhhhh, I started working on designs for a new Spiderman suit.” he replied, mentally cursing himself. Now they would want to see it, or worse, expect him to actually go out on patrol. “But just for fun, I’m not patrolling again or anything.”

This did nothing to change the looks on everyone’s faces, especially his parents’. Steve nudged Tony, who quickly replied “That's great Peter! If you want I can help you with it?” Steve looked at Tony approvingly.

“Oh, no that's fine, I’m just playing around with ideas currently.” Tony’s face fell, he actually seemed excited at the thought of creating it with Peter, and so he quickly backtracked. “But I’ll let you know when I’m done with designs, okay?” Tony brightened at this. “Sure, let me know when you want me to take a look.” he replied.

This got Tony on a tangent about the best ways to reinforce synthetic material to be more protective, with him and Bruce launching into deep discussion. Natasha looked at Peter with an amused expression on her face, a face which concerned him greatly.

“So Peter, I hear you’ve been hanging around a certain mercenary? How did you become pals with a delinquent like Deadpool?”

“What do you mean he’s a delinquent?’ Wade’s a good guy once you get to know him.” replied Peter.

Natasha smiled at him patronisingly. “Wade huh, I guess you know him better than I do. Last I heard he was still a mercenary who murders innocent people for cash. Not exactly someone I would call a good guy.”

“Well at least he checks up on whoever he’s hired to kill to make sure they deserve it.” he replied, feeling defensive of Wade. “It's not like you can judge, last time I heard your record isn't so clean either”

Peter regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but it was too late. Natasha’s expression went dark and she turned away, not wanting anyone else to see her face. She quickly finished her meal and left without another word. Clint looked quizzically at Peter and followed her out.

Tony and Bruce were still too caught up their conversation to notice anything, but Steve gave Peter a disappointed look, making it clear he had heard every word.

Peter was consumed with guilt. Even he was just defending his friend, he knew he had gone too far by mentioning Natasha’s past, especially when she did everything she could to make up for it. He hastily excused himself, claiming to be eager to get back to his non-existent suit designs.

He made his way to Natasha’s room, forming an extensive apology in his head. When he got there he saw Clint leaving the room. As he went to knock on the door Clint stopped him.

“Peter that was so far out of line and you should know much better.” he said sternly, looking disappointed.

Peter looked at his feet. “I know, I’m so sorry, I just got defensive when she started laying into Wade like that. But I shouldn't have gone that far.”

Clint sighed. “Well I wouldn’t go in there now, she said she wants to be alone right now. Just make sure you apologise tomorrow okay?”

“Of course.” replied Peter

Peter turned back and went to his room, shutting the door. He checked his phone, surprised to see that there was still no reply from Wade. He tossed his phone on his bed and took out his sketchbook and pencils. He had a long way to go if he was going to get some decent designs done by tomorrow. He put in his headphones and got to work.