tacos, texts, and trailing thoughts
Deadpool, the infamous mercenary, and Spider-Man’s patrol partner. The two had known each other for years, and had first met shortly after Peter got his powers. See, he got his powers at 20- just after graduating college early. And between the two, there was something. Romance? No. Peter vowed not to get his vigilante-masked side entangled with his ‘normal’ life, especially after losing everything and everyone that he had gotten close to. So, no, not a romance. Barely a friendship. Yeah. He did not have any attraction towards the self-proclaimed ‘Merc with a Mouth’. That would be—
“—Spidey? Hey, Earth to Webs, tacos incoming!” Deadpool– Wade’s – voice broke his train of thought, and he looked up from the far drop with a confused head tilt. He was perched on a billboard near the rooftop Wade stood on, staring down at the little cars, previously wrapped in his mind, as he often was stuck there.
“Don’t go swinging away from me now,” Wade hummed, smiling up at the arachnid-themed man and handing him a taco as he climbed down from the billboard to the merc’s side. He snatched it with a grateful hum, settling to sit next to Wade on the ledge, wiggling happily and lifting his mask to take a bite of the crunchy taco. The two had done this quite a few times, the whole routine of patrolling and then getting food together. They were almost dates, or at least would be, if Peter had not almost immediately shut down that idea altogether.
It’s not that he was afraid of going on a date, as he had gone on dates with men before, but it was a whole different situation when said man was, for lack of a better word insane , and had body counts higher than the number of people living in New York– body count in both meanings of the words. It was no secret that the mercenary was insanely skilled, whatever way he got to someone. This, along with the fact that Peter had not gone on a date since he became Spider-Man, and that was with someone who was considered ‘normal’ by society’s standards; how could anyone in his shoes not be anxious to go on a date with Deadpool? Distantly, Peter recognized he had once again entered a train of thought, and Wade was still chattering away, something about what tacos are the best and where to get them for cheap, and though he had now, thoroughly, convinced himself would never date Wade– he smiled at his ramblings.
“Wait. Repeat that?” Peter stopped Wade midway through a tangent.
“I- I’m pansexual?” Wade questioned, well, as questioning as he could be with a taco half shoved down his mouth.
“No, I heard you. I also already knew that. I meant the thing before that. Repeat it.” The tone came out more demanding than he intended, but it worked, with the way Wade straightened his back and nearly snapped his neck to face Peter, masked eyes wide and a teasing smirk on his face.
“Finally using your commanding voice on me? I didn’t think you were one for fun in public, but anything with you is a yes from me!” Wade purred , and Peter was glad that his mask covered most of his face with how that warmed his skin.
“You know that is not what I meant, Wade.” Peter hissed, reaching out and flicking the merc’s uncovered nose. “Now repeat what you said before, I was focusing more on the taco and now I’m curious.”
“Well since you asked so nicely,” Heavy sarcasm laced the tone, but they both knew it had no real malice behind it, “I said that we’ve been patrol partners for a while, but we only ever communicate when we’re face to face. So, with the kind suggestions of Yellow and White– have decided to give you my number! That way we can chat more! Like I can send-” Wade rambled a bit more, but the words went over Peter’s head, which was now distracted by the fact that Wade had slipped him a small piece of paper with his phone number on it . Was that a friend thing to do? Yeah. Friend thing. Totally. It didn’t mean anything. Friends. Patrol buddies. Nothing more.
“Did I lose you again? Hey, Spidey. Spidey!” Wade’s hands grabbed at Peter’s face, and if his voice hadn’t pulled the vigilante from his thoughts, the skin-on-skin contact- when did Wade remove his gloves? - did. Peter grabbed Wade’s wrists and pushed him back lightly, making sure his unaggressive intentions got across with a small smile.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about what you’re saying. My answer is yes, by the way. I’ll ‘chat’ with you, as you called it.” Peter laughed at the way Wade seemed to light up at those words and immediately started to ramble again. There wasn’t much that he really took in; words ran from the merc’s mouth, and he just watched with a small smile. Peter watched intently at the way that Wade’s jaw moved, watched the scarred skin and lips stretch around words he was not paying most of his attention to. This was their normal, even if Peter tried his best to ignore it- Wade rambling again and Peter just watching. Yes, the part of his brain that was used to long conversations would answer where the merc needed a response, but everything else in him was focused on what little parts of skin that his patrol partner was showing. A distant thought pulled forward, slipping through the focus to catch his actual attention; what would those scarred lips feel like against his own? And that was enough to pull Peter’s eyes away from Wade’s face, to make the warmth in his heart spread from one central spot to every other inch of his body that could feel it. And there it was, his queue to leave.
“I- gotta go.” Peter stuttered and slipped away, leaving Wade on the rooftop.