Despite the collapse of the two worlds into each other, Peter still wants to keep it separate: he is Spider-Man and Peter, but not both at the same time. That would hurt too much.
Wade doesn’t seem to mind Peter needing it to be this way. “As long as I get to date you both, then I’m cool,” Wade says.
Peter doesn’t know why that makes him so happy. But it does. And he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally doing something Spider-Man-ish around Wade. He can be spontaneous. Spider-Man notices that the warm, fuzzy buzzing that his Spider-senses give out to announce Wade’s presence softens further into a happy little tingle. It’s quick and doesn’t last long and ghosts against his skin. And when Wade is around it’s easier to focus his senses so that he isn’t hearing too much or feeling too many vibrations from the world around them. Wade makes everything warm and soft and still.
And Wade loves being in Peter’s apartment, the apartment that used to belong to Aunt May and Uncle Ben and him, the three of them, the apartment where Peter grew up and where there are so many memories. Peter is flattered by that. He is. But it starts to feel one-sided. Neither Spider-Man nor Peter fail to notice that he’s been dating Deadpool, Wade, for two weeks, but haven’t slept over at Wade’s even once since the night that they got together. But despite the mess in the rest of the apartment, Wade’s bedroom is a special oasis of good things, clean and pristine and extra-soothing. Peter misses it. His own bedroom doesn’t inspire a sense of peace in him.
Wade makes excuses like needing to clean his place up. And after that, makes excuses about Peter’s place being more “homey.” Peter and Spider-Man learn not to push. Wade gives them so much latitude on so many things. They can return the favor by being laidback about where Wade wants to be.
Finally, three weeks in, which feels like a long time because they see each other every night as Spider-Man and Deadpool, Wade gives him the invite to come over to Wade’s apartment.
Wade answers the door in civvies. He’s dressed in a bubblegum pink t-shirt with a rainbow on it and the words ‘death metal’ in a fat purple font, tactical pants covered in pockets, and is wearing socks and fuzzy navy blue slippers. He’s not wearing a cap or a hoodie and his face is uncovered. He gives Peter a big smile, showing his straight, even, white teeth. “Come on in. I’ve been working on this for a while.”
He steps aside and Peter walks into the apartment. Wade closes the door and deadbolts it.
To say the apartment is cleaned up is an understatement. Everything, including furniture, has been professionally cleaned. It smells like vanilla and cinnamon. The walls have been repainted eggshell white. There are more lamps in the living room. The piles of clothes, knives, guns, ammunition, and scraps of belts and newspapers and a lot of other things are gone. A couple pieces of furniture in the living room have been rearranged. And there is a new flat screen TV. The couch is now parked directly in front of it.
“You like it?” Wade asks, turning to Peter with a smile.
“Like it? I love it.” Peter runs a hand through his hair. “I hope we get to hang out here a lot. And that I get to stay the night sometimes.”
Wade hugs him closely. “Your wish is my command, baby boy.” He kisses Peter’s cheek, and then the side of Peter’s head. “I didn’t want to have you over again until it was perfect.”
“You don’t need to be perfect,” Peter murmurs, cutting to the chase. He hugs Wade in return.
Wade kisses the side of Peter’s head again. “But I wanna be. Let me try…”
That’s not sustainable, Peter wants to say. No one is perfect. You’ll burn out and then you’ll be mad at me for trying to be perfect for me. But he also knows Wade is flipping out about dating again after a long time of filling his life with flirting. He knows Wade lost Vanessa. Knows that was a bad time in Wade’s life. Knows that Wade had a one-sided infatuation with Cable and an uncomfortable friendship with Colossus rife with sexual tension. Knows Wade has no real friends, a muddled history with the X-Men, has done bad things and been unpredictable and ghosted people and blown up at other people. “Trying is good,” Peter murmurs.
Wade relaxes.
The first thing they do is break open a couple family size bags of chips and watch Game Grumps by using YouTube through Wade’s laptop connected to the flat screen TV. Watching other people play video games and listening to them joke, wail, and bitch should not be entertaining, but it is.
After they finish their snacks and wash their hands they co-op some Mario, although it still turns into a competition a little bit and they end up trash-talking each other and laughing. Also, Wade can do an uncanny impression of the voice acting for Peach. Peter shocks Wade by being able to imitate Yoshi’s sounds. He feels like such a dork for showing off such an embarrassing skill, but something he loves about Wade is that Wade makes him not embarrassed to show off such things. Things that relate to being a normal nerd in graduate school and don’t relate to Spider-Man at all.
Then they watch the original Parent Trap off of Wade’s subscription to Disney+. Peter has no idea why they’re watching the movie. But it makes Wade cry when the Californian twin has this whole speech about doing the switcheroo because she just wants to be able to get to know her mother and that she’s sick of being called by the wrong name because she wants to be loved for who she is. Peter hugs Wade and pats Wade’s back and thinks about how he hadn’t paid attention at all the one time he saw this movie before, because this movie is actually kind of genuinely heartbreaking and messed up.
Finally, they binge watch American Ninja Warrior until Peter can barely keep his eyes open. Wade’s shifted down on the couch so that his head is on Peter’s thigh, and despite the professional enthusiasm of the sportscasters, they’re both yawning and barely watching the screen.
“You’re my pillow,” Wade announces.
“Hm? What?” Peter rubs his eyes.
“You can’t go anywhere. You’re my pillow.”
“Is that your way of asking me to stay the night?”
“Maybe. Unless you don’t want to. In which case it isn’t anything but a silly non sequitur.”
“I wanna stay.”
“Oh. Good.”
Peter leans all the way forward and kisses Wade’s lips. It’s a weird angle and he doesn’t care. “I love you. I’m tired. You have a bed. Let’s get into it. I don’t wanna fall asleep on the couch.”
“OK.” Wade gets up, stretches, yawns, pulls Peter into his arms, and bridal-carries Peter into the bedroom.
Peter clings to him and chuckles and kisses his neck. The way Wade snuggles him when both their guards are down makes him feel giddy. Like he can do no wrong and their lives are perfect. It’s an illusion he can’t get enough of.
Wade lays Peter down on the bed and follows. He responds to Peter’s outstretched arms by obediently placing himself in them, on top of Peter. Sighing happily, Peter snuggles Wade to him. “You’re always so warm…fast metabolism…faster’n me even…” He yawns and kisses Wade’s face. Then he hooks one leg around Wade’s and clings a little tighter.
“If we sleep this way, I can’t promise I won’t pop a raging boner,” Wade tells him solemnly.
“Pop away. Maybe I wanna do something about it.”
“I thought you were sleepy.”
“Mm…I am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have sleepy sex.”
Wade laughs softly and gently coaxes Peter to let go of him so that he can lie beside Peter instead. “No, you need your sleep, Pumpkin.”
Peter whines and snuggles up again, but doesn’t try to start anything sexy. “Okay.”
“You’re adorable. I promise we’ll do something again soon.”
“When’re we going to…you know…?”
“Have awesome butt sex?”
Peter laughs. He can’t help it. And he knows Wade wants him laugh, knows exactly what words and tone of voice to use to get him to laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Wade kisses Peter’s temple. “We’re going to. We’ll get there. I just…”
“…want it to be perfect,” Peter finishes.
Wade squeezes him gently. “Yes. You deserve that, you know. Perfection.”
Peter groans and kisses Wade’s neck. “You don’t have to be perfect.”
“Sh-sh-sh.” Wade strokes Peter’s hair. “Hush, little spider. Go to sleep.”
Peter rolls his eyes, but he get comfortable for real and settles down to go to sleep, one arm draped over Wade’s waist. This perfection thing is an argument he clearly isn’t going to win anytime soon. You know, those previous people didn’t stay because of them, not because of you. He wishes he could just tell Wade that. But without therapy, Wade would never believe him. And Wade did not seem like a therapy kinda guy, for all that Wade was pretty enlightened about some other things. Honestly, superheroes and therapy was a fraught subject, and Peter understood the lack of trust. Mysterio had messed with his head often enough. People kept trying to use “therapy” to brainwash superheroes or drive them insane or what-have-you. So, yeah. That really soured the concept. Still…
“Someday I’ll convince you that you don’t have to be perfect,” Peter mutters.
“And on that day, I’ll convince you that you don’t have to be responsible for everyone all the time,” Wade sing-songs back at him.
Peter wants to throw a pillow at him, but his boyfriend has a point. He kisses Wade instead. “Ugh. Good night.”
Wade chuckles and hugs him. “Good night, Sweetums.”