Chapter 2
Peter was not sure what to do.
His shitty apartment was messy as ever, but his bed was a particular mess.
Piles upon piles of different sets of clothing lay upon it as Peter tried to decide how to dress for a date with a famously deadly mercenary who was going to kill him as soon as they'd finished their date.
The prospect was equal parts dreadful and exciting. Finally, everything would be over, but also...how would he be killed? Would it be painful? Would Deadpool--Wade, rather--listen if Peter asked to be killed painlessly? Did mercenaries really care?
Peter wondered what it'd be like once he was dead. Would Tony be mad at him for dying the way he would? Would May be proud of him for all he'd accomplished?
Would Ben be proud of him?
Well. If Peter was going to die, he might as well die somewhat well-dressed.
A white dress shirt that was mostly buttoned-up--the top buttons were just annoying, honestly--and regular black leggings. Simple. Slightly fancy. Good. Nice. He looked alright, he supposed. It was best with the sleeves rolled up, he decided.
Peter decided to use the nanotech suit this time. He let it crawl across his clothing and skin, covering him in his armor, before swinging across the city to the rooftop he'd sat on the night before.
Wade was kind of nervous. Was that weird? That was definitely weird, right? He was never nervous. He was Wade Wilson, Deadpool, the Merc-with-a-Mouth. Since when did he get nervous about a date with a cute boy?
Wade was surprised when Peter arrived wearing his Spider-Man suit. That was not what he meant when he said he didn't care what Peter wore.
But then it dissolved, and Peter was left standing there in a dress shirt and black leggings. Wade had not been wrong. That was quite an ass.
Peter seated himself across from Wade. Between them was a little blanket-spread picnic, complete with candles for mood and lighting. That's right, Wade Googled this shit.
"Aw, c'mon," Peter's voice was much more lighthearted and jovial than it had been the previous night. "I don't get to see your face? You're one of the few people alive who's seen my face."
Wade chuckled lowly.
"Trust me, you don't want to see my face." He half-truthfully told Peter. "I'm just too sexy."
Peter raised an eyebrow, seemingly not believing it. Damn.
"Whatever. Just be glad I'm not wearing my whole suit, okay?" Wade snarked. He was wearing his mask alongside a red hoodie and black pants. He was much more casual than Peter, but then again, he wasn't dying tonight.
The date went well, in Wade's opinion. He made as many jokes as he could, praying to all the gods he didn't give a shit about that Peter would laugh again. And so he did--Peter let that melodic laughter loose quite often.
They ate the food and laughed and talked about everything in the world, and they clicked. There was chemistry between them that was hard to deny.
It made Wade regret his decision to kill Peter at the end of this. As much as he would love 6 million fucking dollars, he also rarely met anyone as fun to talk to as Peter Parker was.
The night gradually came to a close. The sky was starting to lighten just a little bit and the sun was soon to peak over the horizon, curious as to who was awake.
Peter stood up, brushing himself off.
"Well, that was fun." His voice was so resigned. It made Wade want to slap him across the face and yell well-being into him. "Ready to kill me?"
Wade didn't often think about things before doing them. It was quite rare that he ever considered things like that.
But right now...he was starting to second guess himself.
God damn it. This Peter guy had just gotten into his life, and he was already wrecking all of Wade's confidence.
Wade sighed, brushing himself off as well.
He'd made up his mind.
"Nah. I like you. I only shoot things I don't like." Wade grinned at Peter's surprise. "See ya later, pretty boy."
He was going to love so much well-being into this motherfucker.