Atop the skyscrapers of New York, a figure swung- HAH! Just kidding! Did you really think I’d start a story like that? Absolutely, not. Here we go…Ahem.
The sky was dark. The stars, covered by curtains of smog. A red- Aha! Got you again, didn’t I? Okay, okay, for real this time.
Spiderman, adorned in his classic red and black spidey suit, swung from scraper to scraper. His swings were–for lack of a better word–sloppy. And if you looked close enough, you could see the effort each movement took. His muscles were tense against the tight fabric and it was obvious that each swing hurt.
Soon enough, the hero dropped down on the roof of an office building. Ripping off his mask, he took shaky breaths. An irritated glance down to his left side gave way to the cause of the problem. Spiderman had a large, deep wound gapping through his suit. Sweat gathered on his forehead and he began to pale.
Somewhere between the time of his landing and his struggle for air, another person had shown up. This one is, well… not a hero. However, he isn’t a particularly bad guy either. Wearing his own red and black(black and red?) suit, Deadpool walked over to Spidey. His shoulders were slack and he advanced slowly; Deadpool was being cautious. His caution was proven warranted as Spiderman jumped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, what’s up Spidey-poo?” Deadpool said, visually surveying the hero before him. Spiderman relaxed and slumped down, pressing a hand against his wound.
“Just a scratch. What do you want, DP?”
The hand the vigilante had on Spidey tightened slightly and he squatted down to inspect the wound himself.
“That’s pretty big, Babe. You sure you can get home?”
Spidey glared at Deadpool and responded, “I’m not your ‘Babe’, and I can get home just fine.”
Hands up in surrender, DP stood and gestured towards the street. “Then go on.”
Despite what would have been a better judgment, Spiderman stood up, pulled on his mask, and tossed himself off the roof. He swung a few blocks before dropping down in an alley to take a breather.
“Didn’t think so–now let me help.” Deadpool keened as he hoisted the hero up with an arm.
“I don’t need your help.” Spidey panted out, his mask restricting his breathing.
“You really need a new occupation. I mean- how many times must I save you? You’re like a damsel in distress every time I see you.”
Spiderman coughed and cringed at the pain it caused. “Screw off, ****.”
DP gave a dramatic gasp and turned to look at Spidey. “I want you to know I do screw off. Quite often actually.”
Spiderman shook his head at Deadpool's immature reaction, though I could tell he found it just as amusing as DP did.
Arriving at *****’s, DP clears a space to work with and demands he continues to help. ***** obliges and lets **** stitch his wound, as well as a few smaller ones.
“I mean it– you seriously need a new job.”
***** rolled his eyes and retorted, “You’re one to talk.”
“Oooo–snappy Spidey,” **** glanced up at *****’s face, “ hot.”
*****’s eyes widened and he looked away, attempting to hide his embarrassment. He failed miserably, and that’s coming from me. Deadpool also seemed to have a reaction. Kneeling beside Spidey as he sat on the coffee table, he paused and his body tensed.
After a few moments, he resumed sewing the wound, more vigorously this time. When he was done sewing, he cleaned it and wrapped *****’s torso in gauze.
“Done.” **** said simply, pulling away and standing up quickly.
***** observed DP’s handy work before smiling and saying, “Thank you.”
****’s body tensed and, before I knew it, he had Spidey pinned against the coffee table. His mask was off and his face was flushed red. ***** was wide-eyed and breathing heavily. They stayed like that for a hot minute before **** dropped his head into *****’s shoulder and spoke.
“Gods. What’s wrong with me, Spidey? I can’t resist you. The voices can’t either. I feel a deep need to just...I want to fuck you so badly. But I don’t wanna hurt you. I can’t-” He paused, “Shut up. I’m not doing that.”
Spidey didn’t question **** and instead held him close. I was shocked to say the least, like– if someone told me that, I would’ve…probably not hugged them. Ahem.
DP paused for a moment before pulling back to look Spidey in the eyes. A smile still spread across *****’s face as he rested his hand’s on DP’s shoulders, holding himself up. **** closed his eyes tightly before pulling***** into the hug once again.
They stayed like that for what felt like forever, but it was really just a minute or so. It was getting kinda boring honestly. **** pulled away from the hug, but avoided eye contact with Spidey.
“Anytime.”
That was the last word said before I yeeted myself out of there; I sure as hell wasn’t gonna stay to watch.
Posted: Dec. 8th, 20**
Author: LonelyInsomia
“Hey, Spidey! I found an article from a local reporter about the first time we smashed! Wanna read it?”
Wade bounced beside Peter, waving his phone in front of his face.
“Wade, not- wait what?”
“Yeah! Seems they even know our names, can you believe that?”
“Wha-”
“No. We’re not gonna find this person.” Wade scowled at something and Spidey ignored it.
“Let me see it.”
After reading the article, Peter was quite bemused.
“Gotta admit, they write pretty well.”