It’s really just a thing Peter does. Always has and always will. It’s like, wired into his mainframe to always pick up a bunch of flowers before he goes to see Gwen, or MJ, or May. And one time, Harry. But Harry just grinned and said ‘I don’t need flowers. Bring me chocolate instead.’
He always only goes to the one flower shop, and it is totally not because the server there is super-cute-hot-ohmygod. Ode a la Rose on 28th Street is actually one of the only florists he’s, well, ever come across in New York. But May always smiles whenever he gives her a bouquet so they must be good.
He’s not a flower person. Not really, he doesn’t know all of their names like the florist does, and he doesn’t know how much water to put in the vases. But he can appreciate their beauty. The colours, and stuff. He’s an artist too, it’s just a different art.
There’s a little bell that jingles when he enters.
“Oh- It’s you!”
Peter grins. “It’s me.”
“Who have you pissed off today?” The server asks.
“Why do you always assume I’ve pissed someone off?”
“Strapping young lad like you,” The server teases, “Gotta have all the girls hanging off of you. But you’re right, you do look too nice to piss someone off. What do you want?”
“They’re for my aunt. So, something a bright and beautiful woman in her fifties would like, I guess.”
“You have no idea about flowers, do you?” Peter shakes his head. The server grins. “Here, these?”
Peter takes the rough bouquet and studies it, unsure as to what he’s actually looking for.
The server chuckles. “That’s some irises, larkspur, aster, and white touch-me-nots.”
“Forget-me-nots?” Peter asks, frowning.
“No, touch-me-nots. Impatiens is the scientific name, but that’s like an umbrella term for nearly a thousand types,” The server says. “Does that look good, anyway?”
Peter nods. “I like the.. Purple.”
The server laughs again, taking the bunch back and wrapping it in white tissue paper. “I’m Wade, by the way. You come here often enough, I figure you should know my name.”
“I’m Peter,” Peter says, watching Wade pluck another flower from a bucket and wrap it separately. “What are you doing?”
It’s a purple flower, in a tiny little pot instead of a bouquet. Wade grins. “Florist’s dozen. I don’t actually think that’s a thing, so I’m going to trademark it. Here, it’s a nierembergia.”
Peter frowns at the flower. “Is it extra?”
“No, no. It’s like a baker’s dozen- you know what they are? Where a baker gives you thirteen for the price of twelve. Like in, I don’t know, Mary Poppins. When they go to get the ginger bread. You ever seen Mary Poppins?”
“I think I’ve read Mary Poppins,” Peter says. Can’t say he actually remembers that scene, but hey. “Thanks.”
He takes the bouquet, and the little pot of nierembergia, and smiles at Wade, before putting a ten dollar bill on the counter and walking out of the shop.
Maybe that was the day he fell in love with Wade.
*
“Peter!” May exclaims, drawing him into a hug as soon as she opens the door. “How are you?”
“Hi, Aunt May. I’m good. Uh, here,” he says, handing her the bouquet.
“Oh, is this for me?” May says, “You old romantic, you.”
Peter chuckles nervously. “Hey, do you have Mary Poppins?”
“Book or film? Because, if I were you, I’d read the book first, honestly,” Aunt May says. “But we can watch the film now if you want.”
Peter nods. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
May chuckles. “Well, come on in, then. And put these in some water, won’t you? You know where the vases are?”
“I did live here, you know,” Peter sniffs, taking the flowers from her and walking inside.
May follows him, asking, “So why do you want to watch Mary Poppins?”
“Oh- I just.. It was just some guy talking about it earlier. I overheard him on the street,” Peter says quickly. “I was curious.”
May’s house is the same as it always is. The same is it is every week when he goes to visit, all pale pinks and flower pictures and ornate photo frames filled with pictures of him, and a few of Ben, and one of her and Peter’s mother. The carpet looks just as bare as it did last week, but it’s still comfortable and kind of soft. The curtains are looking a little more dusty, but the pale beige is familiar. It smells the same, too, all warm and like cookies and her flowery perfumes.
Peter finds himself breathing in deeply, kind of embarrassingly deeply. As much as he savours his independence, he misses living with May. And his apartment, while only five blocks from May’s, is cold and empty (because he hasn’t actually gotten around to buying furniture) and smells more like traffic and pollution and the cheap hot dogs from the opposite block than flowers and cookies.
“I think I have Mary Poppins here somewhere,” Aunt May calls from the lounge. Peter jerks back to himself, somehow finding himself standing in the kitchen and next to the cupboard holding the vases.
He reaches up to take one out (and he’s kind of too short, so he doesn’t know which one he’s grabbed until he takes it down). It turns out to be the white china one, May’s favourite. Which is probably why it’s nearest the front. Then he spends five minutes judging whether he’s got the right amount of water in it (has he? It looks alright.) And then another five minutes arranging the flowers.
“You alright in there, Pete?” Aunt May asks.
“Yep! Fine!” Peter calls back, “Done.”
“Well, I found that film and the book, if you wanted to watch it,” she says. “Let me just put a pot of tea on and then we can, yes?”
Peter nods. “Okay. That’s sounds good. Thanks.”
“I’m your aunt, Peter. No need to thank me,” May tells him sternly, “Now, you make yourself comfortable and it’ll be just like old times.”
Just like old times, Peter thinks, curling up in the left hand corner of May’s slowly decaying couch.
She comes back in with a mug of tea, and says, “Now, just don’t judge Dick Van Dyke’s accent too hard.”
*
The film is actually pretty good. Better than Peter expected, he’s kind of wondering why he’s never rewatched Mary Poppins before now. Aunt May was right, though. Dick Van Dyke’s accent isn’t so good.
He somehow convinced her to let him raid the baking cupboard in search of chocolate chips, too. Which he found. And ate. And then promptly realised how much he missed her.
“Well, Peter,” May says, “Are you staying for dinner?”
Peter shakes his head. “I’ve got a dinner date with Gwen. Purely platonic, by the way. She’s had her gay awakening and decided MJ is hot shit.”
May chuckles. “Give them my congratulations, then.”
“Oh, no, they’re not together yet. They just.. Keep skirting around each other. It’s the most annoying thing in the world,” Peter says. “But I’ll do it anyway, because her face will be incredible.”
“That’s pure evil, Parker. Have fun, alright?”
“Always do, Aunt May.”
“But not too much fun,” May warns. “I haven’t had to drag your ass home yet, and I don’t want to start now.”
“I don’t even live here any more!” Peter exclaims.
“Technicalities,” Aunt May says dismissively. “Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”
Peter rolls his eyes at her, “Gwen’ll probably be later than me anyway.”
May fixes him with a stare.
“Right. I’ll be on time,” he says.
“Get outta here, then,” she says. “And if you need anything, you call me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now take care of yourself, Peter.”
“Okay!” Peter says. “Weren’t you just the one saying I shouldn’t be late?”
He escapes two minutes later, grinning at her before making his way to Sixth Avenue.
Ode a la Rose should still be open, he thinks, cutting over to 28th Street.
It is open, and Wade is still at the counter.
“Twice in one day, huh?” Wade says as soon as he enters. “I must’ve really made an impression, then.”
Peter chuckles. “Yeah.”
“So what is this time?” Wade asks.
“Girl friend,” Peter says before frowning. “Not romantic, though. Platonic relationship.”
Wade raises an eyebrow at Peter’s clarification (Peter gets distracted by how it crinkles the smooth skin on his forehead). “Alright, then. What’s her favourite colour?”
Peter shrugs.
“Did you actually come in looking for flowers?” Wade asks.
Peter shrugs again. “I don’t really know. It’s just a nice thing to do, I guess.”
“Do you, and no offence, do you have enough money for another bunch of flowers?”
Peter’s eyes widen and he pulls out his wallet to leaf through whatever bills are in there. Then he mentally tracks how much the electricity and water will be this month. Then he sighs. “No, not really. Sorry for wasting your time.”
“Time has not been wasted,” Wade says. “Here, I feel bad you going out empty handed. Take.. this!”
“What is it?” Peter asks, taking the flower.
“It’s an Iceland Poppy,” Wade explains. “Have platonic fun on your platonic date with your platonic girlfriend.”
“You, too,” Peter says, before grimacing. “I mean-”
“I know what you mean,” Wade grins. “Thanks.”
“Thank you too,” Peter says, staring at the flower. Then he shakes his head and smiles at Wade and wanders out.
He thinks about why Wade keeps giving him free flowers, even though today is only the second time. Second time in one day, though. Which, okay, is a bit weird. But who’s Peter to question? It’s kind of cute.
*
Gwen is later than he is, just like Peter knew she would be.
Actually, she’s a lot later. So late that two different servers have come over to see if he wants to order something and then apologized for his ‘being stood up’.
She comes in with messy hair, and a knitted scarf thats half way unravelled, and her mascara is kind of clumpy, and her nose is red. Peter just stands up and grins at her.
“Well, hey there, White Rabbit,” he teases, hugging her.
Gwen hugs back and sighs into his shoulder. “I’m late, I know. But listen, I have a big reason for it.”
“Oh, yeah? Let’s hear it then, and then I’ll decide when to forgive you,” Peter says.
She sits down and takes her scarf off all the way, taking a sip from Peter’s glass of lemonade before talking. “So you know MJ?”
“Not very well,” Peter deadpans.
“Oh shush,” Gwen mimes swatting him with the menu. “Anyway, I was at hers- that’s why I’m late, we were playing Dungeons and Dragons with Harry and two of his friends-”
Peter interrupts, “You were playing D and D and didn’t invite me?”
“I texted May and she said you were watching Mary Poppins with her. Since when have you liked Julie Andrews, by the way, because I feel like that’s something we need to discuss,” Gwen says, “But that’s not for talking about now. We were playing D and D and the doorbell rang, yeah? Harry got up to get it because its, you know, his house, and it was this guy - super cute, you’d probably like him - and he hugs MJ. And kisses her cheek.”
“Blasphemy,” Peter says, raising his right eyebrow.
“Come off it, Peter, this is serious! What if they’re together? You know how I feel about her, I don’t want to, you know, break them up,” Gwen exclaims. She seems genuinely distressed.
“Gwen, you know MJ is like, one hundred percent attracted to you, right? Even Aunt May thinks so. And that hug and kiss could have been just platonic. How many times have you kissed my cheek? Hell, you’ve shoved your tongue down my throat on more than one occasion, and we’re not dating,” Peter says. “I’d put more money on that guy being Harry’s boyfriend than MJ’s.”
Gwen considers that. “Really? You really think so?”
“I really think so,” Peter reassures. “Just ask her out. See what she says. I guarantee it’ll be a yes.”
“I just don’t want to ruin our friendship if things go wrong,” Gwen frets.
A waiter interrupts them. “Ah! She’s here! Good evening ma’am, can I get you a drink?”
Gwen glances up, then at Peter, at the wine menu and then at Peter again. “I think a glass of your nicest red would be appropriate,” Peter says for her.
“Of course! Of course,” The waiter says, “I shall bring the food menus with me.”
Gwen smiles at him, and the waiter leaves grinning. As soon as he’s gone, she groans, slumping her head into her forearms. “I hate crushes.”
“Most of us do, dear,” Peter says idly, fiddling with the laminated corner of the wine menu. The plastic is peeling back a little bit, and the paper underneath is soft and almost squishy.
“I just wish she was a- a mind reader. Then I wouldn’t have to tell her, she would just start kissing me and be over with it,” Gwen grumbles. Peter only hears about every other word, though, because it’s muffled by her arms.
“You don’t wish that,” Peter says, “You’re a romantic at heart, you’d love to be able to sweep her off her feet with some lame love song and expensive, candle lit dinner. Don’t deny yourself that.”
“I do wish that,” Gwen insists.
“Gwen, please, we’re at the stage in our friendship where I know you better than you know yourself, and if I didn’t think that my meddling would destroy our relationship forever, I would have set you up already. Trust me when I say you’re a romantic. You just need to work up the courage to ask her,” Peter says.
Gwen huffs, lifting her head till she can balance her chin on her arms instead. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I just wish she knew already.”
“She probably does,” Peter shrugs. “You’re not the most secretive person in the world. You can cut the sexual tension with a knife, honestly.”
“That’s just making me feel worse,” Gwen tells him.
Peter hums. “Sorry. I don’t have the most successful relationship history, do I?”
“No, but you’ve definitely met someone,” Gwen perks up almost instantly. “Definitely. Who is he?”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
“I’m a mind reader, now who is it? Do I know him?” Gwen asks.
“I don’t think so? He’s a florist,” Peter says,”Name’s Wade. That’s all I know so far. He keeps giving me flowers.”
“What flower shop?”
“Ode a la Rose. On 28th Street,” Peter says.
Gwen hums, clearly thinking. Then- “Yes! Yes, I know him.”
“How?” Peter asks.
“I’ve been in there. Once, like three years ago, or something,” Gwen waves her hand around aimlessly. “He’s cute though. The one with the burn scars on his arms?”
“I didn’t notice any scars,” Peter admits. “Barely even looked down.”
“Yeah, we know you’re an eyes kind of guy,” Gwen says.
“A what?”
“Eyes kind of guy,” she repeats patiently. “Doesn’t matter. You should get his phone number.”
“Well, I kind of do. It’s on their website,” Peter shrugs.
Gwen levels him with an unimpressed stare. “Seriously? Okay. If you get his number within two weeks, I’ll ask MJ out too.”
“No takesie-backsies?”
“No takesie-backsies,” Gwen confirms. “Shake on it?”
They shake on it, and then the waiter turns up with a bottle of wine (which turns out to be painfully expensive and nearly drains Peter’s wallet dry, but Gwen deserves it, anyway. Besides, getting her wine drunk never fails to make her talk about MJ, which makes it easier to plot ways to get them together).
The downside is wine drunk Gwen gets very hungry, and Peter ends up buying dinner too. He’s just glad he has his special 'Gwen Day's Out' saving pot.
*
Peter somehow finds himself outside Ode a la Rose the next morning. It’s a kind of damp day, where he can feel the rain on his skin but it’s not actually raining, and everything’s sort of foggy (but that might be the pollution. It’s New York. You can’t really tell).
He has two take out coffees in his hands, warming his fingers on them. He was going to give one to whoever he sees looking the coldest, but staring through the shop window, Wade looks cold too.
So he heads inside.
“Morning,” Peter says, sliding the cardboard cup onto the counter.
“You’re back soon,” Wade says, “With.. coffee?”
“Yep. Want one?"
“Seriously?” Wade asks.
Peter shrugs. “You look cold. Just take it. It’s cold in here.”
“Yeah, the heating broke last night. I can’t fix it till I close up tonight, and I don’t really have enough money to pay someone to fix it right now,” Wade says.
Peter deliberates, before saying, “I could fix it. Free of charge.”
“Really?” Wade frowns, disbelievingly.
“Yeah. Unless you have any tools, I’ll have to go get mine first, but I can do it now if you want,” Peter says.
“Really?” Wade repeats.
“Yes, really. No extra cost. Promise.”
“Alright,” Wade says, “Do you want money for a taxi or something?”
“No, I can walk,” Peter says. “I’ll be back in a sec, then.”
*
It doesn’t take him longer than fifteen minutes to return (four minutes to walk to his apartment, six minutes to locate his tools and wipe the oil stains off of them, and then five minutes to walk back, shivering because MJ has his woolly hat) and when he does, Wade has finished the coffee Peter got.
“Hey,” Peter says. “So, where do you need me?”
Wade grins. “Um, I have no idea. Boiler?”
“That works,” Peter says.
“In the back, here, I’ll show you,” Wade says, opening the door that says ‘Staff Admittance Only’.
There’s a dull, beige-y corridor leading off to three different doors. One has a sign that says ‘Staff Bathroom and Kitchen’, another that says ‘Basement’, and one that has three different locks on and ‘Wade’s Pad’ written in purple sharpie on the wall next to the door. It’s absolutely freezing, and only one of the three fluorescent lights work.
“Please don’t use this as basis for the rest of my apartment, okay,” Wade says, “I would paint it but I can’t paint.”
“I can paint,” Peter says.
Wade pauses outside of the Basement door. “I’m seriously considering hiring you just to fix all my shit. Do you need a job right now?”
“If you’re offering, I’m not going to refuse,” Peter says, shrugging. “I can always use the extra income.”
Wade doesn’t really question Peter’s living situation (or lack thereof). Which Peter is thankful for, because even if he lives in a one room apartment with a falling apart bed, doesn’t mean he can’t, you know, be a person. And Wade looks kind of like he understands that.
The basement (in which basement is code for creepy slightly larger than normal supply closet, with unnaturally bright, white, bare lightbulb, and dusty shelves). The boiler is hidden on the left side, under a shelf stacked with books dustier than any book Peter has ever seen.
“Um, here it is,” Wade says, gesturing inside. “I, uh, don’t really come down here.”
Peter hums, peering inside. “You can’t really tell.”
Wade snorts. “Yeah, right. I don’t know a lot about this stuff, so is it alright if I just leave you to it? If you need anything, just come up and find me. I can’t really leave the counter unattended for too long.”
“That’s fine,” Peter says, dropping to his knees and crawling inside. He feels around all the pipes for cracks, and then turns back to smile at Wade. “This shouldn’t take too long.”
Wade nods, loitering by the door for a few seconds, before nodding again and disappearing up the stairs.
Peter watches him go, then turns back to the supply closet basement. The light probably makes his features look pale and sallow, and every time he stands up, the bottom of the bulb brushes the top of his head. It’s cramped, and cold, but if he fixes it, he can probably weasel a mug of coffee out of Wade.
*
It takes longer than he expected, but thankfully, he doesn’t have to replace anything. But he gets the heating up and running again, and Wade comes down almost as soon as it’s done, grinning so widely, it makes Peter’s cheeks ache in sympathy.
“Thank you so much,” Wade says, tugging Peter out of the basement and brushing dust off of him. “Seriously. I think I owe you my life.”
Peter chuckles. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. Easy fix. You’re welcome.”
“Let me get you a drink and a flower in thanks,” Wade says.
“You don’t have to-”
“Nope. I do. You’ve just fixed my heating, which means I can actually feel my fingers. Let me make you a coffee,” Wade insists. “There’s a machine in the staff room.”
The staff kitchen is much the same as the basement. A smaller than expected (but still habitable) room, with bright lights and even brighter coloured roller blinds. There’s a scruffy looking two seater couch in the middle of the room, with a chipped wooden coffee table in front of it. A computer sits on the table, turned on to the screensaver (which is a picture of an old looking car with flowers growing out of the windows). Wade’s wrapped warm fairy lights around the whole room in an attempt to warm the place up, and it kind of works. It’s obvious Wade is probably the only one who works there. The kitchen area is really just three cupboards with workbench on top, a mini fridge, and a sink. There’s a microwave, a toaster, and a coffee machine on the bench.
It’s not as bad as Peter was expecting, but it’s definitely not what he thought it would be.
“Sorry about the.. mess,” Wade finishes, lamely.
The only mess Peter can see is dust.
“I usually eat and stuff at the counter,” Wade continues. “The only other person who works here is my friend, Ness. Vanessa. She usually uses the coffee machine. She keeps trying to get me to move it up to the actual store.”
So Wade isn’t the only one who works here. “What days does she work?” Peter asks.
“I do Saturday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and she does Sunday, Friday. And then we both share Thursday,” Wade says.
“Huh. Cool. So why haven’t you moved the machine up?”
“If I didn’t keep it down here, this room would never get used,” Wade shrugs, “So, where do you work?”
“I’m kind of a freelance photographer. I sell my photos to local papers. I also work part time at a bakery on 20th,” Peter says. “But I kind of want to go full time with the baking.”
“You bake?” Wade asks.
“I try,” Peter chuckles. “I haven’t accidentally poisoned someone yet, so it must be going okay.”
Wade smiles. “That’s always a plus. I don’t know how much baking you can do in jail.”
“Yeah,” Peter says, watching Wade press a couple of buttons on the machine and then wash two mugs out with cold water. The machine makes a horrible grating noise and Peter grimaces, “How old is that thing?”
Wade shrugs. “No idea. Ness brought it, so you’d have to ask her. Sounds like it’s time for an upgrade, though, I guess.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Peter says. “We have to get you a new one.”
“I will, when the prices don’t make me pass out,” Wade says. He sticks one of the mugs (a chipped, neon orange one) under the machine, and they both watch as coffee drips out slowly.
“It’s like watching paint dry,” Peter says.
“It could be faster, couldn’t it?” Wade asks.
“A little bit,” Peter says.
*
In the end, the coffee isn’t bad.
Peter isn’t surprised. Really, he isn’t.
*
“I feel like I owe you everything,” Wade says, once they’ve finished the coffee and headed back up to the shop.
“It’s fine,” Peter says, “I did it out of the goodness of my heart.”
Wade chuckles at that. “Here, though. Let me give you something.”
“Oh- You don’t have to-”
Wade’s given him a flower before Peter can get anything more out. “It’s a clematis,” Wade says, sounding very proud of himself.
“Okay. If you’re giving me flowers, at least let me give you my phone number,” Peter says. It feels kind of weird being on this side of the exchange, actually. Normally, he’s the one collecting phone numbers.
Wade nods, tearing off some paper from the receipt printer and handing it to Peter, along with a black biro that looks nearly at the end of its lifetime. Peter scribbles down his digits, prays to all the Gods he can think of that Wade will be able to decipher his chicken scrawl.
“Thanks,” Peter says, picking up the flower.
Just before he reaches the door, Wade calls out, “No, thank you!”
Peter smiles all the way home.
*
Wade Wilson, 18:37pm
hey. wade here. from the florists. idk how many other wades u kno
Peter Parker, 18:40pm
You’re the only one, don’t worry.
Wade Wilson, 18:41pm
[Message was unsent]
Peter Parker, 18:42pm
What did that say?
Wade Wilson, 18:43pm
ness says its inappropriate to wax poetic abt some1 uve only just met
Wade Wilson, 18:43pm
just ignore evrthng i say thats wat most ppl do anyway
Peter Parker, 18:44pm
Only if you ignore everything I say. And wait til you meet Gwen. She’ll probably start crying over your hair, so don’t worry about waxing poetic.
Wade Wilson, 18:45pm
shit idk how 2 deal with crying women man. dont introduce us pls
Peter Parker, 18:46pm
And you think I do know how to?
Wade Wilson, 18:46pm
well u seem like the sort of prson who has their life 2gether
Peter Parker, 18:47pm
You’ll rethink that when you see my apartment.
Wade Wilson, 18:47pm
that sounds like ur inviting me 2 ur aptmnt
Peter Parker, 18:47pm
Shit.
Peter Parker, 18:48pm
Is that too forward?
Peter Parker, 18:48pm
Not that I wouldn’t love to have you over!
Wade Wilson, 18:49pm
put the shovel down b4 u bury urself alive
Peter Parker, 18:49pm
Right.
Wade Wilson, 18:50pm
u shud come ovr soon. meet ness. and my pets
Peter Parker, 18:50pm
You have pets?
Wade Wilson, 18:51pm
yea fish ness and my shrink sed its gonna help me get mor responsibility so ness brought 2 clownfish their p qt
Peter Parker, 18:51pm
If one of them isn’t called Nemo, I will be very disappointed.
Wade Wilson, 18:52pm
so ur a disnerd? intresting.
Peter Parker, 18:52pm
Isn’t everyone?
Wade Wilson, 18:53pm
not me im more of a cod kind of guy
Peter Parker, 18:53pm
Cod?
Wade Wilson, 18:53pm
call of duty. u really dont get out much do u
Peter Parker, 18:54pm
Wow, dude.
Peter Parker, 18:54pm
Gotta go now. Looks like there’s grumpy, semi heart broken woman in my future.
*
Wade invites Peter over for dinner, at his place. So Peter brings a bottle of cheapish wine, and a box of thirteen pieces of gingerbread. Because it’s kind of an inside joke, now.
Wade’s front door is still the same, faded Sharpied words and peeling paint.
Wade’s actual apartment, however, is amazing.
It’s messy, but Peter kind of expected that, but otherwise, it’s wide and open and airy. The walls are all white, the floors are pale wood, and the windows are large and tall.
Wade’s fish tank is on the coffee table in the living room, and there are two little clownfish in it. Wade says their names are Tiger (“Ness named that one.”) and Queen Victoria.
It’s nice. Wade brings two bottles of beer and they slump onto Wade’s three seater.
“You have a nice place,” Peter says.
“You think?”
“Yeah! I especially like the purple sharpie signs,” Peter tells him. There’s purple arrows pointing down the hall the bathroom, into Wade’s bedroom and the guest room. There’s also a few on the kitchen cupboards, saying things like ‘Bowls here!’ and ‘Put the mugs away, asshole’.
Wade chuckles. “Yeah. Most of those were Ness and my friend Weasel.”
“Really?” Peter asks.
“Yep. Weasel provided the sharpie, Ness wrote them all,” Wade shrugs. “They’re pretty good friends.”
“They look like it,” Peter says, smiling down at his drink. “My friend wouldn’t ever draw on the walls.”
“Yeah? If you want, I could introduce you to Ness tonight. She’s normally available,” Wade says. “She might be a bit drunk, but when is she not, you know? It’s like, her thing. Party don’t start till Vanessa walks in, and all that.”
Peter hums. “I get that. One of my friends are the same way.”
“Addicted to the happy juice?”
“Not especially, but she does have parties a lot,” Peter shrugs. “I think my friends are kind of different to yours, though.”
“How so?” Wade asks.
“Well, one of them goes to Comic con every year,” Peter says. “It doesn’t sound like your friends would.”
“No, probably not. Weas would, though. He’s a cosplayer.”
Their relationship progresses from customer and marketer to friends over beer and boring nature documentaries. Peter likes it more than he thought he would. His day has gone well. Maybe he’ll get home and find Gwen and MJ have gotten together, too. The cherry on top, and all that.
*
It’s dark out when Peter says “I should head home now.”
It’s the early hours of the morning, he thinks, and Wade is just captivating. The moon makes his living room look kind of ghostly, but they spent the evening - and the better part of the night - watching Star Trek, and drinking OJ from the carton.
It’s the most fun Peter’s had in a while.
Wade doesn’t let him leave without a flower, pushing a neatly wrapped bouquet of what he calls, “Erigeron.”
When the moonlight hits it, the purple-pink of the flowers goes silvery.
Peter smiles over at Wade, says, “Thank you. For dinner, and everything.”
Wade says, “No problem.” He looks a little bit embarrassed.
“Sleep well,” he says, just before he leaves.
Wade echoes his words.
*
Peter Parker, 09:12am
Thanks for last night. Had a great time.
Wade Wilson, 11:52am
one y r u up so early two ur welcome
Peter Parker, 11:53am
My body clock hasn’t fully adjusted to being out of high school yet. It’s only been ten years.
Wade Wilson, 11:55am
lol so ur what 28?
Peter Parker, 11:55am
Yep. Can’t believe we haven’t covered this yet.
Wade Wilson, 11:59am
ikr im 30 btw idk if thats a deal breaker also ness is here and demanding facetime if thats okay
Peter Parker, 12:00pm
Why would that be a deal breaker? And sure, facetime is okay.
Wade Wilson, 12:01pm
idk mayb being in a different dcade is wired 4 u
Wade Wilson, 12:01pm
and ok ill call u
[Incoming call from: Wade Wilson]
“Yoo!” Someone yells as soon as the call connects. “Shit, Wilson, you never said he was that cute!” Wade rolls his eyes.
“Sorry,” Wade says. “That was Ness. She’s excited.” He turns to the girl peering into the camera and tells her, “And I so did, Nessy, you just have the worst fucking memory in history of memories."
Peter chuckles. “Are you arguing over how cute I am?”
“Not at all,” Wade says, at the same time Vanessa says, “Yeah, we are.”
“See, those statements don’t work because they’re very contradicting,” Peter says.
“Ooh, he’s clever,” Vanessa sing-songs, “He knows what contradictory means. I don’t think even Weasel knows what that means.”
“Did you just call me and Weas stupid?” Wade demands.
“Never. Hush now, darling,” she tells him, patting a perfectly manicured hand against Wade’s cheek. Wade looks absolutely affronted. “Let me interrogate this boy about his intentions alone, now.”
“Oh, fuck off, Ness. You don’t need to interrogate him about his intentions,” Wade complains. “Look at him. Do you really think he’d ever do anything to hurt a fly?”
Vanessa tilts her head. “Fair point. Alright, then. He definitely wouldn’t fit in at Sister Margaret’s, though.”
“I am never taking him to that shithole,” Wade says.
“You swear a lot more with your friends around,” Peter remarks.
“Well, it’s rude to curse in front of people you’ve only just met,” Wade defends himself. “Besides, I thought you were, like, seven. Everyone knows you don’t swear around little kids.”
“I don’t look seven!”
“Whatever,” Wade says, “I haven’t properly introduced you yet. This is Vanessa, also known as Ness, Nessa, or little bitch. Ness, this is Peter. I don’t have any nicknames for him yet.”
Vanessa is the third most beautiful woman Peter has ever seen (Gwen and MJ share first place, May holds second). She has grey-black-blonde hair in curls that fall over her shoulders, dark eyes, full lips, and more of a jawline than Peter.
“Nice to sort of meet you,” Peter says, smiling.
Vanessa giggles. “Wade, you were right. He does look like an angel.”
Wade blushes. Peter asks, “You think I look like an angel?”
“No-”
“Don’t even start, Wilson, I’m helping you out here,” Vanessa hisses at him, shoving a hand over Wade’s mouth.
“Fine!” Wade exclaims. “Fine. Get Weasel over here, and don’t blame me when you scare him off, then, yeah?” He huffs.
Peter frowns. “You couldn’t scare me off even if you tried. I may look like a wet kitten, but I’m sure as hell not one.”
“You could not have picked a better guy, Wade,” Vanessa sighs dreamily
“If you say anything like that again, I will throttle you,” Wade says, unnervingly brightly.
Peter asks, “Should I call the police?”
*
In the end, Wade’s friends are awesome. Weasel turns up virtually unannounced, but he has an unopened bottle of vodka with him, so neither Vanessa nor Wade kick him out yet (Peter doesn’t quite understand, but he’s gathered that they’re kind of eccentric). Vanessa is funny, and keeps conversation going constantly. Weasel is more quiet, and sits on Wade’s couch on his laptop (but when he does speak, it’s dry and sarcastic and generally hilarious in a really dark way).
Wade just looks so crazy happy its unreal.
*
They swap friends, for want of a better phrase, on a drizzly day in Central Park. Peter decides instantly that introducing Vanessa and MJ was probably a mistake (Gwen probably thinks that too. She looks kind of jealous.)
“Gwen,” Peter murmurs, breaking her out of her headspace. She turns to look at him.
“What?”
“Your eyes are going green. What’s up?”
Gwen huffs. “Look. Look at them.”
Peter frowns. “Use your words.”
“I am using my words,” She grumbles. “Just watch them. Her. MJ.”
“I don’t see the problem, Gwen.”
Gwen lets out a long groan, a mix between a scream and a grunt, before standing up and propelling herself into MJ.
Peter raises his eyebrows. Then raises them higher when Gwen kisses MJ. Then he lets out a high pitched, choked sort of noise when MJ starts kissing back enthusiastically.
Wade stops just behind his shoulder. “Are they okay?” He asks.
Peter laughs. “They’re fine.”
“They look like they’re about to eat one another,” Wade says.
Peter hums. “I guess they do. Gwen was jealous.”
Wade snorts. “Of Ness? No way.”
“Yes way. She’s been having a difficult time with her crush. I just hope this means they’ll sort themselves out,” Peter says.
“Ah,” Wade says, “Young love.”
Peter laughs under his breath. “Yeah. Can’t wait for them to go through the cupcake phase.”
“I bet you can’t,” Wade says.
“They’re gonna be aaaalll over each other,” Peter sighs, drawing the word out. Wade laughs.
“At least they’re happy, right?”
“Yeah,” Peter says, “That’s the most important thing.”
*
Wade blushes when he shoves four separate bouquets of flowers at Peter.
“Here. I was doing this thing, where I spell out some shitty compliment, but I can’t wait and I just. Yeah.”
Peter frowns. “I- You- What?”
“I was trying to flirt with you, via flowers, but you know nothing about them so it probably won’t work. So I’m giving up. And I think you should know that I think you’re really cute,” Wade says. “And also that I think you should move in with me, because your apartment is shit,” he adds.
Peter nods slowly. “Right? Moving in with you? Seriously?”
“Soon as you want. I don’t want you living in your box for much longer,” Wade says.
“It’s not a box, thank you very much,” Peter protests. “It’s a perfectly reasonably sized apartment for one person. But don’t you think moving in is too soon? I mean, surely you should take me out to dinner first.”
Wade smirks. “Yeah?”
*
So they go out to dinner.
Gwen spies on them. Peter pretends he doesn’t notice her.
*
“Peter, please,” Wade begs, “Look. It’s winter, it’s cold, and your heating hasn’t worked for fuck knows how long. You don’t even have to share my room! You can have the guest bedroom. Just, please, move in with me. At least until you can find a place with better heating. I don’t want you waking up with hypothermia.”
“I’ll be fine, Wade,” Peter says.
He does kind of want to move in with him. But it’s only been six months since they started dating, and he’s never shared a house with someone who wasn’t May. And he knows that if he stays till winter is over, then he’ll never want to leave. And it kind of scares him.
If MJ was here, she would punch him and tell him to stop being a pussy.
“But I will be dying of worry every morning!” Wade exclaims dramatically. “I’ll have to call you every day as soon as I wake up just to make sure you’re still alive and have all your fingers and toes. Do you want me to be dying of worry?”
“Wade..” Peter says quietly.
“I’m not going to force you. But just.. Please consider it, Peter. Seriously consider it.”
Peter nods. “Okay. I can do that. I’m.. sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, silly. I just don’t want you getting sick and hurt,” Wade says. “Hey! We could change the staff room into a bakery and then we can be a florists and bakers. How gay does that sound?”
Peter giggles. “I could make cookies that look like little flower bouquets.”
“See? It’ll all be fine,” Wade promises. “It’ll be even better if you come out of winter with all your appendages.”
*
Peter gives in half way through December. He’s sick of waking up in the cold, and then having freezing shower with shitty water pressure because the pipes were all frozen.
Wade has hot water that lasts forever, and windows that shut properly. And also himself.
Gwen squeals when Peter tells her.
*
Peter puts the money he got from selling his old furniture towards buying a proper oven and renovating the staff room.
*
Living with Wade is usually pretty good. He doesn’t mind when Peter has his moments and has to blast music at full volume, and he doesn’t mind when Peter gives Gwen and MJ a key in case his moments get substantially worse (‘Weas and Ness have keys too, it’s only fair your friends have one too,’ Wade says.)
However, Wade has a terrible habit of leaving old food in his fridge, and Peter can only take so much furry yogurt.
“Wade?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you never clean your fridge out?” Peter asks.
“What do you mean? Of course my fridge is clean,” Wade says.
“Wade, this milk is practically alive. It’s disgusting,” Peter tells him, “Can you at least try?”
“I can try,” Wade says. He sounds distracted.
“Wade, please, this is serious! It’s horrid, having to open the fridge and the cupboards and seeing this mouldy food product all the time. I don’t know how you can live like it!” Peter exclaims. “Can you turn the TV off for a minute, please?”
Wade pauses it. “Look, Pete, I don’t see the big deal. It’s not that bad.”
“It is that bad!” Shit. He sounds desperate.
“Peter-”
Peter represses a scream, chucks the curdled, gloopy milk at the wall and storms out.
*
He goes to MJ’s, and the apartment she shares with Gwen and Harry. Standing outside her door with tears in his eyes makes him feel kind of pathetic.
“Peter?” MJ says. “Shit, Pete, what happened?”
Gwen appears. “Peter? Oh, Peter. Come here.”
He lets her pull him into a hug, barely even noticing when she pulls him inside and onto the couch. Harry is sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, but he looks up and frowns when Gwen drags Peter in.
“What happened?” Harry asks.
“Wilson,” Gwen says shortly.
“What did he do?” MJ asks, pulling Peter’s arm till he lays his head in her lap. She threads her fingers through his hair.
“It’s stupid,” Peter says. “But he just- leaves food everywhere. Do you know how many times I’ve had to throw out furry cheese? It’s disgusting. I tried to ask him to help, but he just wouldn’t listen, and so I threw the- the mouldy milk at his head and left. It’s like he doesn’t care that it’s gross. He’s not the only one living there anymore, you know? I don’t want to live in a mouldy dump. If he does, then I might as well move out.”
Gwen frowns. “If you really wanted to, you could move in here. I can move into MJ’s room, you can have mine.”
“Of course you don’t want to move out,” MJ says, “He’s just tired and frustrated. Stay here tonight, and then go back tomorrow morning. Apologise for getting angry, explain why and what happened, and then Wade will probably apologise too.”
Peter sighs.
“And if he doesn’t accept your apology,” Gwen says fiercely, “I’ll make him.”
“You’re like a bunny, Gwen, you couldn’t make him scared of you,” Harry says.
“You wanna bet, Osborn?”
“Shut up, you two,” MJ says. “This is about Peter now, not your little lover’s spat.”
Gwen gives MJ the finger. “You’re right, of course. So, like Em said, stay here tonight. Then it’ll all blow over by tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?” Peter asks. God. He hates how weak and doubtful he sounds. “Because I don’t want to have to leave Wade.”
“You won’t have to leave him,” Harry says, “You just need to sit down and talk to him about this.”
“But it’s such a stupid thing to get upset over,” Peter says. “Seriously. It’s bullshit. He’s never going to want me back.”
“Are you kidding, Peter?” Gwen asks.
“He hasn’t lost you yet, has he?” MJ says. “He still has you. Look, Peter, don’t stress it. Come on, we can send Harry and Gwen out for food, and we can binge watch Star Wars or something tonight.”
Peter nods slowly. “Okay.. Okay.”
*
They’re half way through ‘A New Hope’ when Peter’s phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Peter? Shit, baby boy, I’m sorry about earlier, you know? I didn’t even realise I did it, but I’ve gotten so used to it now. I meant it when I said I’d try more, I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t. I know it seems like sometimes I don’t care, but I do. I just-”
“Wade? Calm down,” Peter says. “It’s fine. I- All I want is for you to try harder.”
“And I will,” Wade says fervently.
“I know. And I’m sorry too,” Peter says. “Um- I’m gonna stay at Gwen’s tonight. I’ll come home first thing tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Wade says. “Okay. I love you.”
“Yeah,” Peter smiles. “I love you too.”
When he hangs up, Gwen pokes him. “We told you it’d all be fine.”
*
When Peter gets home, Wade is waiting by the door.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” Peter says. He thinks he’s wearing MJ’s jeans.
“Are those MJ’s jeans?” Wade asks.
So Wade thinks so too. “Probably,” Peter says. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Wade says. Then he kisses Peter, and everything feels right with the world again.
*
Wade locks the door to the staff room, and won’t let Peter in. It’s kind of disconcerting, but Peter just lets it happen. Wade will show him eventually. Besides, he’s terrible at secrets, so.
And just as Peter expected, Wade bounds up to him, looking every part an over excited puppy, and says, “Peter! I’ve been building a thing in the staff room, you might have noticed, but it’s like a proper little kitchen for you! You can go full time with your baking!”
Peter grins. “Seriously?”
“Seriously, Petey, come on, come look!” Wade grabs his wrist and drags him down into the beigey grey corridor and into the staff room (the sign of which has been scribbled out, and ‘Peter’s Bakery’ rewritten in orange sharpie).
Wade pushes open the door and Peter chokes on a gasp.
“Holy shit, Wade.”
“Do you like?”
Peter turns to Wade and kisses him furiously. It’s answer enough.
*
For their one year anniversary, they get a kitten.
They name her Poppy.
(Wade wanted to call her Nierembergia, but Peter said no, because that’s a terrible name for a cat, really Wade, come on.)
fin.