Softie
Peter stood there for an extra five minutes, letting the warm water rush over his body. He let it wash away his worries, the weight of his responsibilities alleviated for a few moments. A week had passed since his unfortunate run in with the yakuza, and the bruises had faded completely, as had the occasional phantom buzzes across his skin, remnants of the picana's bite. He surprised himself by getting over the psychological effects of the torture fairly quickly: after his enormous cry with Aunt May he felt heaps better, which gave him hope for if he was ever captured as Spider-Man. Aunt May, however, had most certainly not let it go. Peter still insisted that he had been jumped (which he felt soul-crushingly guilty about), but May knew something else had happened and was willing to break some kneecaps. It was a side of May he had never seen before and it scared him...but also made him proud to be her nephew.
Eventually he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, drying himself briefly and wrapping a towel around his waist. He peeked around the bathroom door, checking that May was still out, and then strolled into his room. "That's why I fucked yo' bitch, fatboy." He sang under his breath, then smiled to himself at the absurdity of the lyric. He had been listening to Tupac in the shower. He let his towel drop as he rooted for some underwear in the drawer.
"You should really get some better security."
Peter leapt out of his skin, spinning to confront the pesky intruder before realising he was butt ass naked, then quickly picked up his towel and clutched it to his chest so that it covered his bits. He was at least decent, if still completely exposed. "Jesus Christ, Wade! You scared the sh- crap out of me!"
The red suited mercenary was leaning on the wall in the corner, his smirk clear through his mask. "That's kinda the point." He laughed, still amused by how much Peter had jumped at his sudden appearance. "Does that mean I'm officially on the spidey-sense whitelist?"
Peter was still frowning, trying to stay mad, but Wade's playful mood was just too contagious. A reluctant smirk bloomed on his lips. "I guess...but I wouldn't take it for granted. I could probably take you off it if I tried hard enough...probably." He muttered the last word.
"Aww, you wouldn't do that, would you? Then how would I surprise you?"
"You'd just have to schedule meetings like a normal human being. You know, drop me a damn text or something."
Deadpool scoffed. "Peter. I am not a normal human being."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you close your eyes?" Peter requested, shifting uncomfortably at being so very naked.
"Why? It's not like I haven't seen it all before."
Peter scowled and his face flushed red. "Wade! That was totally different!"
The anti-hero cocked an eyebrow. "How is it different? You are such a prude, Peter Parker."
"Just close your eyes!"
"Fine. They're closed."
Peter's face deadpanned. "I know they're open, Wade." The mask made it so that Peter couldn't be 100% certain whether he was right, but he knew Wade, and that meant his eyes were still wide open.
"They're closed!" The man whined.
"Cover them."
Wade tutted, but covered his eyes with his hand.
It wasn't perfect, but it was as good as he was gonna get with someone like Wade Wilson. He wrapped the towel around his waist and resumed his hunt for decency. He slammed the draw shut a few seconds later.
"Wade. Where is all my underwear?"
Deadpool pointedly looked away like a naughty child, swaying on his heels. "I don't know, Peter. Where is all your underwear?" Peter noticed for the first time that one of Wade's hands was subtly hidden behind his back.
"Give them back, Wade. It's not funny." Peter said, still clutching the towel around his waist desperately.
"Wrong! It is both hot and funny." But still the mercenary relented and took the bundle of boxers out from behind his back. He didn't give them back, however. "You want them? Come and get them."
Peter groaned, but he knew he had to play along. He tugged on a loose t-shirt and some basketball shorts, forced to go commando, and leapt towards the tall man with superhuman strength and speed, his agile hands aiming not for the underwear, but for where Wade would move them to continue his frustrating game.
Peter snatched the bundle of fabric easily, but Wade grabbed him just as effortlessly, pinning Peter against his body with his strong arms, his bare legs dangling above the ground.
"You've fallen right into my trap, Spidey."
"Wade." Peter said, his meaning clear as he struggled weakly against the mercenary's hold.
"Wheeeeeee!" Wade sang as he started to spin rapidly like a parent entertaining a baby, Pete's legs lifting like a skirt hem.
"For god's sake, Wade." Peter groaned, but he smiled despite himself. "Ok, ok, stop I'm gonna barf."
The mercenary obliged and stood still once more, gazing into Peter's eyes through the mask. Somehow Peter could sense what was coming next.
"Are you ok?" He asked simply, his voice betraying some of the emotion he tried to hide. They both knew what he was talking about.
Peter's heart melted. He slipped out of Wade's now lax grip. "I'm fine, Wade. Really. It wasn't that bad..."
Wade's face deadpanned.
"Ok, it was really bad while it was happening but I got over it quickly, in a day or so. I had a good cry and then I felt a lot better." Peter said. "I'm fine. Seriously."
Peter could feel the relief pouring off Deadpool. "Good. Good." He huffed, looking out the window. "Peter, I want you to know that I will literally murder anyone who fucks with you like that. Like...I will murder them."
"You sound like Aunt May."
"Well your aunt's got the right fucking idea. I always knew she was a stand-up person."
"Hmmph." Peter hummed, not quite happy with Wade's promise of murderous retaliation, but knowing that there was categorically nothing he could do about it. "Cover your eyes." He said, moving back to his bed.
"Again?" Wade gasped.
"Yes again! Just cover them." Deadpool complied, though Peter could have sworn there was some peeking involved as he slipped off his shorts, put on some underwear, and replaced them.
"You look really hot with wet hair, by the way. Very beach-babe chic." Deadpool remarked when Peter had finished changing.
Peter just raised an eyebrow at the compliment, but his insides started glowing. He started dabbing his hair dry with a towel, perched on a chair while Deadpool pottered about his room, picking up various objects and inspecting them like a curious ape.
Peter bit his lip deciding whether or not to say what he was about to say. He chose to risk it. "You know, Wade, I was just thinking, the way you treat me and the way you care about me...it almost makes me think about the Deadpool you hear about. Psychotic. Unpredictable. Dangerous. I haven't really met that Deadpool before..."
Deadpool squinted. "What are you talking about?" He didn't trust the cheeky smile that was plastered on Peter's face.
"Well, the way you checked I was ok after the whole torture thing, the way you said you'd kill anyone who f- messed with me..."
"Go on." Wade encouraged cautiously, twisting a Rubik's cube in his gloved hands.
"And the way you treated me the night before all that happened..." Peter paused. "It makes me wonder if you're more of a softie than you make out to be."
Wade stilled for a moment, then put down the Rubik's cube. "A softie?" Wade scoffed. He prowled towards the brunette lad, still perched on his chair, and then grabbed him, flinging him to the bed. Peter yelped as he bounced lightly on the duvet, unable to scramble away before Wade pounced on him, his strong legs pinning him to the mattress. Wade - or was this Deadpool? - lifted off his mask and pressed his face into the side of Peter's head.
"Is that what you want to see? Psychotic Deadpool? Unpredictable Deadpool? I can make that happen, Petey boy." He whispered in Peter's ear making the boy tingle uncontrollably. "I could be much harder on you."
Wade took Peter's earlobe into his mouth and nibbled on it roughly , making the hero's eyelids flutter lightly as the beginnings of a tent began to show through his fresh boxers. "Not much of a softie you've got in your shorts, is it?" Wade growled, but a moment later he released Peter and got up off the bed leaving the teen in a flustered mess.
"I thought...?" Peter began.
"You thought we were going to hook up?" Wade tutted. "I have no idea why you would think that..." The teasing in his voice was obvious. He strode over to the window and opened it. "You want unpredictable, Spiderboy? I'll give you unpredictable."
"Wade wait! I didn't mean—"
But the merc had already clambered out the window and shut it behind him.
"Shit." Peter adjusted his crotch as he flopped back down onto the bed. He was worried about what he'd just unleashed on himself. Now Wade was going to do something crazy to disprove him. He cursed himself: why had he said anything? He was happy with his relationship with Wade. He loved him. Plus what was Peter even talking about? Wade was unpredictable at the best of times, and now he was going out his way to do something batshit crazy.
Sighing, he reached for his phone and fondled his junk. Might as well do something to distract him from whatever Wade was planning.