“I am positive that you are not supposed to be in the house, sir.”
Deadpool did a full body flinch and frantically looked around for whoever had just spoken to him.
When he found no one in sight, he said, “What? Who the hell...?”
“My name is JARVIS, sir. And I am the house’s AI. I do not have a physical form, so trying to locate me is pointless.”
“...Oh...” Wade said. “That...makes sense...or something...”
“I’ll return to my previous statement, sir: I am positive you are not supposed to be in the house.”
“Right...well...technically, no, I’m not, but! I intend no one any harm here, so how about you just let it slide this time, all right, buddy?”
“I am not your “buddy,” sir, and I don’t see why I should do such a thing. You are, after all, sneaking into the house.”
“Ever heard of a surprise, JARVIS?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I’m trying to surprise someone. Hence, the sneaking.”
“Who are you trying to surprise, sir?”
Wade hesitated.
“If you do not tell me, I will have no choice but to inform the master of the house of your presence immediately. You do realize I am giving you the benefit of the doubt, by speaking to you first, instead of telling Mr. Stark without even informing you.”
Was that computer just condescending to us?
I think it was.
“Look, JARVIS. You don’t need to get all snippy with me...I’m here to see Peter.”
“The young master? I think I have more of a reason to be concerned now.”
“No, no, no, you don’t! I mean no harm, remember?”
“I find that hard to believe when you are carrying swords on you back, sir.”
“Ah. Well, that’s just part of my job, so...”
“And what, pray tell, is your job?”
“...I’m a mercenary...?”
There was a heavy pause.
“I think I’m going to inform Mr. Stark of your presence now.”
“NO! No, please don’t! Come on, man, what do I have to do to convince you I’m legit?”
“There is nothing you can do, sir.”
“JARVIS, JARVIS, you gotta cut me a break!”
“I don’t have to do anything for you, sir.”
“JARVIS, who are you talking...to...?” Peter rounded the corner and his steps slowed as he spotted JARVIS’ conversation partner. “Deadpool? What are you doing here...?”
“Well...” Wade began. Giving an upward glare, he said, “I was trying to surprise you, but Mr. Cranky-Pants-in-the-Ceiling was throwing a hissy fit about it. Just ‘cause I got swords on my back...”
“Young sir, this man is not supposed to be in the house,” JARVIS supplied in his defense.
“I know, JARVIS. But...just give us a minute...”
“Yes, sir.”
Peter was eyeing Wade curiously, if not warily.
“Deadpool...why were you trying to surprise me?”
“Well, because...it’s your birthday today, Spidey. Isn’t it?” Wade raised an eyebrow under his mask out of uncertainty.
“Yeah...it is. But how did you know that?”
“I, uh...I may have been hanging around and eavesdropping a little...”
Peter’s eyebrows shot up.
“I’m calling Mr. Stark, now,” JARVIS said, the disapproving tone in his voice clear.
How is that even possible? Computers can’t have tones of voice...
This one can apparently.
“No, no, JARVIS, wait, wait,” Peter said, still looking at Wade strangely. “How were you going to surprise me?”
“What?”
“How were you surprising me? I mean, were you just going to be creeping in my room when I got home from school or...?”
“Well, uh...I was going to leave a present for you in your room. Hopefully before you got home, but again with the annoying, meddling robot house...I wanted to be gone by the time you got home.”
“AI,” Peter corrected absently. “What were you going to leave?”
Deadpool visibly hesitated.
“Deadpool. What were you going to leave?”
“Aw, here.” The merc yanked a lumpy package out from behind him and shoved it toward Peter.
Peter took it in his hands and gently pulled the newspaper wrapping back. Inside laid an incredibly cute plushie of...
“Is this a brain cell?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that neat? They make germ microbe plushie things apparently, of like really terrible diseases which is kind of weird, but kind of really cool actually. And what with you being all sciency and all, I figured you’d like something funny and sciency like that, so...there ya go. Have a brain cell. Maybe it can replace some of the ones you’ve lost getting knocked around so much.”
Peter gave Deadpool an exasperated look. Then, he looked back at the plushie.
“This is...this is really sweet, Wade...thank you.”
He called you Wade!
Score!
“Oh, yeah, well, whatever...” Deadpool attempted to brush off the sincerity in Peter’s voice.
Peter stepped closer. “No, really...thank you.”
Wade’s mind almost stopped completely at the look Peter was giving him. It did however kick into fourth gear when Peter smoothly lifted his mask and kissed him.
Deadpool’s hands shot out of their own accord and gripped Peter’s waist. He responded to the kiss with belated relish, not expecting it, and certainly not expecting to like it. Deadpool liked the ladies, right?
Well. Whoever he liked—he definitely liked this.
Peter was actually the first to open his mouth and pry at the other man’s lips, and Wade delighted in how hot the young hero made the kiss, pushing and biting and sucking.
Spiderman was a dirty, dirty kisser.
Well, that thought certainly turned Wade on and his hands travelled down to Peter’s ass, cupping the firm muscles and using the leverage to press the teen up and into him. Peter moaned and Wade dipped his head to take advantage of the boy’s temporary lapse in control.
Now, Wade was the one delving and dominating and Peter seemed to respond even better to that. The lithe hero jumped without warning and latched his legs around Deadpool’s waist. Unprepared for the sudden action, Wade turned to collide them with the wall, Peter’s back hitting it.
Pressed against the wall, now, Peter let his head loll to the side, inviting Wade to the feast that was his pale, slender neck.
Wade happily accepted the invite.
He nipped at sensitive flesh, scraped his teeth across pulse points, laved at Peter’s Adam’s apple.
Peter was thrilled by the way it all felt. Not only was Wade incredibly, mind-blowingly good at this, the scars on his lips only added to the sensations, and in a most pleasurable way.
Wade had just reached Peter’s collarbone and was about to leave the most breathtaking hickey you’d ever seen there, when JARVIS spoke up again.
“Excuse me, Master Peter and guest,” and yes, he did say guest with just a hint of disdain, “I thought it might behoove you to know that Captain Rogers has returned home. And is headed your way in case that wasn’t clear.”
Peter’s eyes widened almost to the size of his mask’s eyeholes and he let out a horrified gasp.
“Ohmigod, Wade, get out of here.” He released the hold his legs had had on the man and dropped nimbly to the floor.
Wade allowed Peter to push him back a few steps (albeit he still had his hands on the boy’s body, just below the ribcage, now when did those get under his shirt?).
“And by Captain Rogers, he means...?”
“Captain America.”
“Right. Time to go. Give Mom and Dad my best wishes,” Wade said with a wave, as he retreated down the hall back toward the window he had come through.
“Ha ha...” Peter said with an eye roll.
“Later, Spidey. And Happy Birthday!” Wade said, disappearing out the window.
“Later, Deadpool...” Peter said looking at the empty window longingly.
“Peter?” Steve said, stepping around the corner. “What are you doing out here?”
“Oh, I just...got back from school, Pop.”
“Oh. Well, go get changed. People will start arriving in half an hour.”
“Right, Pop.”
Peter turned to head for his room.
“Peter.”
He turned to look at his dad, who was looking at him expectantly.
“Oh, sorry, Pop.” He went up to the older man and hugged him briefly. Steve hugged him back contentedly.
“Did you have a good day at school?”
“Yep.”
“Good. Now, go get dressed,” Steve said, patting him on the shoulder.
“I’m going,” Peter said, smiling to himself. His pop was so loveable.
“Hey, JARVIS?” Peter said, once he was in his room.
“Yes, Master Peter?”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, young sir.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Well, sir...I did ruin the surprise.”
“So guilt, huh?” Peter asked.
“Something like that, young sir.”
“You’re not going to tell Dad and Pop?”
“I am willing to let it slide. Just this once.”
“Thanks, JARVIS. You’re the greatest, you know that?”
“I do, sir. But, it’s always nice to be reminded.
Peter laughed.
Later that evening, well into the night after all of Peter’s party guests had gone home or retired to their respective rooms, JARVIS once again addressed a familiar intruder.
“You know, you still don’t have permission to be here, Mr. Wilson.”
Deadpool froze. He had been hoping the computer-man needed to sleep, too.
Apparently, he didn’t.
“You know my name now...that’s kind of creepy...”
“Master Peter told me. He talked about you while he prepared for his birthday party.”
“Did he?” Wade asked, grin growing lewd.
“I’m not sure I liked everything he told me, Mr. Wilson.”
“Well...not a whole lot of people like me, so that doesn’t surprise me.”
Even house-robots hate you.
He didn’t say hate.
“Master Peter seems to like you.”
“Oh? Well, that’s good news.” And it really, truly was. Deadpool was sneaking back into the mansion on a hope and a prayer that Spiderman hadn’t come to his senses and changed his mind since this afternoon and wouldn’t pull out all the bells and whistles in kicking him out of the house.
“There’s still the matter of you being here without permission, Mr. Wilson,” JARVIS reminded.
“Uh...”
“Are you here to surprise Master Peter, again?”
“What?”
“Are you surprising Master Peter again?” JARVIS repeated, and Wade swore he could hear the AI hinting at him.
“Um, yes. Yes, I am,” Wade said, taking a chance.
“Well, then. Who am I to ruin a surprise?”
Wade grinned up at the ceiling.
“You’re pretty cool for a computer, JARVIS.”
“I’m aware. Now, hurry along. Master Peter’s been awake—waiting for you—I believe.”
Wade’s grin widened as he dashed down the hall.