Chapter 2
"No, May-" Peter smiled, "yeah, yeah of course I'm staying warm." He looked wearily at the second-hand blankets that he bought yesterday with rationed money. Technically, he only bought one, but he must have looked so particularly unfortunate to the old woman that was working the thrift store, seeing as she gave him two more threadbare blankets for free. Obviously he thanked her extensively and took them; who was Peter to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Apparently his assurances were not fooling the woman, however, since she offered to bring soup over whenever she got the chance, but she luckily dropped the subject after that.
Peter was, really regretting not splurging on a better apartment.
The heating had fully shut off sometime yesterday and Peter could barely stand to remain in his apartment, which now felt colder than the open air of the city.
Realizing that the best thing to do was to get up and move, he stuffed a duffel bag with his suit and started his journey to the top of the apartment building. Technically, it was locked for a reason, but Peter had long ago made a key to get up onto the roof. (Before, he would just pick the lock every time.)
Changing up there and making sure no one saw him, he started out into the cold New York streets and swung around buildings, trying to get some blood circulating in his body. He had started patrol pretty early since it was a Saturday, so Peter was hoping to catch the last dying rays of the sun to warm his spider body up.
After stopping a few muggings and helping the odd grandma or two with groceries, Peter looked up at the sky to see the sun setting, the coldness becoming a chill in his body.
Later, there was a mutant incident that started with 3 straight blocks of wrecked cars and buildings, and ended with Peter soaked to the bone standing in knee-deep water in the harbor. It was a lot of work and certainly a lot of bruises, but Peter was personally proud of the whole ordeal. Minimal casualties and one very ironic quip ("This is just a warm up!") makes for one happy Peter Parker.
Peter, however, was still soaked from his dip in the Hudson and probably should make his way home to change. Swinging closer to his apartment, Peter stopped for a breather.
The wind-chill of swinging through a city with a wet spandex suit was... Not optimal. Peter really should make some kind of insulation for his suit, but poverty demands that he freeze his ass off.
Belatedly, he realized his hands were shaking and that Peter probably couldn't get home like this. One half of his brain felt that he should take the subway and just deal with all of the stares and picture requests. The other half of his brain shouted that he would rather die than deal with the public.
So, with a sigh, Peter traversed his way across building rooftops, having to stop often.
He was shaky, too shaky to get home at this point. His apartment was basically across the city and Peter- Peter didn't know if he was going to last that long.
While going through his contacts to maybe call someone for help, something that he immediately reminded himself was a stupid idea, his eyes fixated on Deadpool's.
Maybe... Were they even that close?
...
Thinking about his previous promise to patrol with Deadpool, Peter shot off a shaky text, telling him that Peter wouldn't be able to make it. The cold was getting to him and he didn't even know if the text he sent out was legible, but he hoped it would be enough.
"F-fuck," Peter whined, teeth chattering as he stumbled forward. Pressing ice-cold fingers to his neck, he could feel his pulse dropping as his teeth didn't even bother to chatter anymore.
That... Certainly wasn't a good sign.
Peter should be worried about that. He really should.
But, he was just so, so tired.
It was all that consumed his thoughts: he needed to sleep, he needed to hibernate, he needed to be safe, he needed to stop.
He couldn't keep going.
Every day, he got up in the morning to fight his strongest battles, both physical and mental. He was the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman, the hero that rescued people from burning buildings and held up ceilings as they crumbled. He had fought tougher, bigger, stronger enemies and he had prevailed. Every. Single. Time.
But he couldn't keep fighting anymore.
It had been so long now. Peter had to give in. There was nothing else he could do. He couldn't even bear the thought of swinging home to his fucking terrible, cold apartment. He couldn't.
Peter looked around dazedly for cover.
Peter stumbled to the ground.
And Peter fell.
Struggling to even crawl into the corner where the walls of the roof met, Peter cracked an eye open for what felt like the last time.
It felt- good, to give in. Even if his brain was clawing, screaming, telling him to get the fuck up, it was all a distant roar to the spider part of him. The spider part of his brain was calm, finally relieved to give up on wasting energy, energy that could be used to heat himself.
He was cold, but he was finally sleeping.
His eyes slipped shut and everything went dark.
"Well fuck me sideways to Sunday," Wade whispered, biting at his nails even though they just grew back immediately, "Spidey never cancels on our nights out."
Pouring over the simple text again, something was creeping up on Deadpool, and it wasn't the usual itch that his scars liked to rile up.
-SPIDEY BABE <3- sorry, cant make it, ssick
"GASP! My baby boy is sick! And is all alone with no one to help him!" Wade made that part up for dramatic effect, but it was also probably a good guess. In his defense, Wade hadn't really seen Spiderman with any other super-friends other than him.
Still. Something was wrong here.
Maybe it was the misspellings, or the lack of proper grammar that clued something was awry.
"Readers, I believe a mystery is afoot..." Wade murmured, tapping his foot while flipping his phone upside down and shaking it, as if the information would come falling out of the mobile device. Pausing, his brain caught up with the message and he gawked at Spiderman's audacity and how much of an idiot Wade was to believe it.
"This son of a bitch! Webs is lying to me!"
He remembered it like it was yesterday:
Spidey had been sitting with him on the top of a bulletin board sign, chomping down on an absolutely sinful amount of tacos. Wade was definitely thinking only PG thoughts as he watched in wonder of Spidey's pink lips inhaling taco after taco. Wade wasn't sure how someone that small and lithe could put so many pounds of food away while also still being hungry, but figured spider-bullshit was to blame. Which led him to wonder: what other spider traits did his super-best-friend have?
"Hey Webs," Wade asked carefully, waiting until Spidey stopped chewing on his bajillionth taco.
"Hm?" he hummed back, wiping his mouth and pulling the mask back down.
"What spider things can you do? Like, other than sticking to walls and shit- not to say that isn't cool and all, but I'm wondering if you really do-"
"Wade," Spidey sighed, "we've been over this. I do not grow six more arms on command."
"-THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO ASK! ... Although I still don't believe you about the arms thing." Imagining Spiderman with all those arms... Judge him all you want, but the mental image did things to Wade...
"Wade..." he warned.
"Okay, okay!" Wade laughed, "I was just wondering the usual stuff. You know, do you have venom, or eat your lovers-"
The other man laughed, shaking his head. "No and no; like, 1% of spiders are venomous and I think only female spiders eat their mates."
"PHEW! I was a little worried about that," he sighed, winking through the mask.
Giving him a solid punch to the shoulder, Spiderman let out a small: "Shut up."
Then, seeming to think about Wade's question more, Spiderman seemed to pause, thinking about what he could say. "I uh, don't do well in the cold. And I don't get sick, for the most part."
"I'm still mad, even after that flashback," Wade pouted.
Thinking logically, Wade knew what this meant: Spidey was in trouble and was unwilling to call Wade for some reason. Which, for the superhero's information, only made Wade want to come save him like a damsel in distress more.
Mind resolute, Wade started climbing out of his window and onto the fire escape, grabbing his katanas and blowing a kiss toward his bed.
"It's time to find ourselves a spider."
"-Holy shit," ... "-idey, you okay?" ... "Shit, uh, okay!"
Peter barely registered the sound of someone talking, not to mention the fact that he was currently being held, bridal style. He should probably worry about that. Probably.
"Hey, sweetheart, you alive?" the voice asked, holding one large hand to the side of his face, cradling to his chest. It was large enough to cover almost half of his head and felt pretty warm. Distantly, Peter realized that the person was checking for his pulse, and- the person was shaking.
Huh.
"It's okay, baby boy, I'll get you somewhere safe."
His eyes tried to open, only reaching about half-lidded. His vision was foggy at best, but the red and black above felt familiar. "C-cold.." Peter groaned out, eyes slipping closed once more as he heard more panicked speech from the person holding him.
Should Peter trust this person? Probably not. He probably should try to swing away, or do his best to fight.
But. Peter was so tired. And the arms that held him brought a warm comfort that Peter couldn't remember feeling before.
Maybe he'll just rest his eyes a little bit more.
"Oh FUCK," Wade grit out, holding a limp spider in his arms as he sped toward his apartment as carefully, yet quickly as possible. "Oh fuck, oh FUCK, oh shitballs; I've got the one and only Spiderman in my arms, and although I imagined this before, albeit with a little less clothes on and a lot more sexual tension, I am FREAKING OUT."
He climbed back into his apartment with as much care as he could muster, dropping him on the same bed that he kissed goodbye earlier. Running into every piece of furniture on his way to his shitty laptop, Wade started frantically typing in: "how to warm up spider," being met with comments regarding heat lamps and burrowing holes. Typing instead "how to warm up a person," Wade was given a lot more helpful answers.
Furiously collecting every blanket and towel he owned, Wade found his way back to his bed where a still unresponsive Spiderman lay. The internet had provided that wet clothes should be taken off immediately, and Spiderman's suit was thoroughly soaked as far as he could tell- but Wade was unsure... He didn't want to seem like a total creep, despite the number of times that he's made incredibly lewd comments about the smaller man's ass. What can he say? Wade appreciated fine art.
Back to the situation at hand, Wade conceded that Spiderman probably would forgive him.
Probably.
For good measure, Wade held his hand in front of his eyes as he found the unnoticeable seam on the back and started taking off Spidey's suit. Peeling the top portion off before sliding the leggings portion off of him (Wade had no idea it was a two piece), the guilt that Wade was feeling was immeasurable.
"God, I am so, so, SO sorry for doing this baby boy, but we've gotta get you warm."
After assuring that, yep, there's a naked Spiderman in his sheets, and, yup, he's not currently dead or dreaming, Wade carefully wrapped the smaller man in a towel, only dropping his hand from his eyes when he knew that Spidey was modest once more. Of course, he had to begrudgingly leave the mask on his face, but he did try his best to use a smaller towel to dry it off.
Pulling him into his lap and laying him against his chest, Wade started the process of wrapping him in an insane amount of blankets. Tentatively, Wade pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him. The smaller man had started shaking, which Wade had taken as a good sign: his body had at least started to try and warm him up. But, he still couldn't help but worry about him...
Dropping his head on top of Spidey's head, Wade sighed. Now all he had to do was wait.
The first thing that Peter woke up to was warmth. Unbelievable warmth.
The kind of warmth that reminded him of a lizard sunning himself on a hot rock. Or perhaps, the comfortable heat of a sunny day.
The second thing that Peter woke up to was the realization that Peter was nude as the day he was born.
That should have been- more concerning than it was to him, but his sleep-addled mind couldn't find any strength to be too worried. Peter could feel that he was without his suit, but seemed to be mummy wrapped in a towel, followed by an immeasurable amount of blankets. He kinda was just hoping to fall asleep, but was woken out of his sleepy state by a rumbling voice near his head.
"You up, baby boy?" the deep timbre of the words almost made it hard to tell who spoke them until his brain caught up- Wade.
Belatedly, Peter realized that Wade must have gone out to look for him after Peter canceled on their patrol. In hindsight, maybe he should have just told the other man what he was going through; god knows how many times Wade has offered his open door to Peter for him to swing by at any time. (Pun intended.)
But, maybe he was too afraid of becoming close with Wade. A lot of people in his life have left him and maybe Peter just wanted to make sure that Deadpool didn't leave him to. Hell, Peter didn't even see the man as Deadpool anymore: he saw him as just Wade. Funny, often crude, and damn good cook Wade Wilson.
Peter figured that if he kept the man at arms-length, things could continue like this forever: a friend to meet up with and have his back on patrols.
But, did he want things to stay the same?
Peter was definitely sure that he had an attraction to Wade, as much as he wished he didn't because- let's face it: superhero relationships are messy. But, it was hard to really make that reach and put it into words...
Instead of voicing this, Peter murmured, "Why am I naked?"
Wade chuckled and held him tighter--oh my god, Peter will NOT be replaying that in his mind later-- "Sorry, I needed to get the wet clothes off of you- I pinky promise I didn't look at your dick."
Peter blushed, but believed him due to the conviction in his voice. Looking around, he assumed he was in Wade's apartment: it was too decorated with personal effects to be a safehouse. The walls were covered in posters and some pictures of Spiderman, which Peter realized that he took himself... As Peter Parker... Trying not to think about the irony of that, Peter looked toward the TV that was playing a show very quietly and saw a small analog Hello Kitty clock that read 10:34 PM.
Realistically, he should still be patrolling. But, who knows where his suit is, not to mention the fact that it was probably still not dry.
Only now did Peter notice that he did, in fact, still have his mask on, which was clinging to him like a second skin due to its sogginess.
After debating with himself a little, he pulled it off with a bwuh as it clung to his damp face and hair.
Wade's breath shortened as Peter could feel him go tense underneath him.
"Am I-" Wade whispered. "Am I getting a Spiderman face reveal right now? Because I'm not sure if I'm fully mentally ready, but I am 100% welcoming it regardless."
Peter laughed, wondering the same thing himself before deciding against it. "No, Pool, just, I guess, a hair reveal." He paused before continuing quietly, "You don't wanna know the face or the person under all of the suit. I'm just a guy... Not one bit special, not even a little."
That comment gave Wade some pause before speaking. "Well that's not fair to say that, Spidey," Wade murmured, setting his head back down on Peter's, this time with his brunette hair tickling his chin and muffling his voice. "I haven't even met the guy yet."
Peter smiled, relaxing into his hold a little more. Content to just stay there, Wade must have gotten the hint and relaxed as well, reaching for a remote nearby to turn up the volume on whatever shitty reality TV show was playing. Wade seemed to be getting really invested, making the occasional comment as well as catching Peter up on what has happened so far in the episode. Peter stayed quiet during most of it, not really contributing much to what Wade was saying, but the man seemed perfectly content to talk for the both of them.
"Maybe sometime later, I'll tell you." Peter murmured, shutting his eyes.
Confused on what he was talking about, Wade just let out a confused "Hm?"
"My identity," Peter clarified.
Again, Wade seemed quiet and thoughtful before speaking. "Oh..."
"Well," Wade continued, "I certainly can't say no to that, but- just know that I'm not expecting it, right? Don't feel like you have to unmask in order to keep ol' Deadpool around, okay?" Seemingly done with his statement, he squeezed Peter in his cocooned state. "-OH! And make sure to tell me next time you're gonna keel over and die, because this was NOT an experience I'd like to repeat!"
Peter groaned, "Sorry Wade, I just..." he trailed off.
"You can always come to me if you need a cuddle, baby boy," Wade sighed wistfully, as if imagining it while offering.
"Really?" Peter asked quietly.
"Really."
"Then," Peter paused, "I think I'd like to come over more often- like, after patrols and stuff."
It was then Wade's turn to answer breathlessly, "Really?"
Peter smiled, "Really."
With that, Peter let his eyes slip closed once more, content to just lie in his arms for that moment. Tomorrow, he'd have to deal with washing his suit, dealing with his feelings with his friend, and keeping his secret identity intact; but just for tonight? Peter decided to enjoy the warmth that he'd been missing for so long.