Peter was full on sobbing. Wade was internally panicking. He approached the situation carefully, being noisy with his steps in an effort to make sure his arrival was 100% heard.
“Hey, Petey. What’s up?” He made to rest his hand on Peter’s shoulder, but Peter shied away.
“Please don’t touch me right now,” he said pathetically, sniffing. Wade raised both arms placatingly.
“Alright, hey, look I’m puttin’ both hands up. They’re nowhere near you,” he said in a soothing tone, or what he hoped was a soothing tone. He put his arms back down in his lap and sat across from Peter. Peter’s sniffling eventually died down and he wiped his eyes.
“Okay, I-I’m trans,” Peter confessed haltingly. “And right now, I’m feeling extra hella dysphoric because of um . . . bodily . . . things. Functions. And HRT doesn’t exactly work for me anymore which is why this even has to happen and I know my aunt says I’m still a boy and I’m still valid but it’s like . . . hard to, I don’t know, believe her? When this still has to happen,” Peter said, disgusted. “You probably don’t even understand, like, any of what I’m saying.”
“Actually, I do. Like, all of what you’re saying. Wade Wilson being trans? It’s more likely than you think.”
“But you’re . . . you’re so masculine,” Peter said in skeptical disbelief.
“And so are you, sweet cheeks. Wanna go back to my apartment and talk this shit out? It’s cold out here tonight, I don’t hear any cries of help, and you’re in spandex. Can’t be much help.”
“It’s not,” Peter admitted. “And okay, if you say so.” Wade squinted, tilting his head and analysing Peter’s expression.
“We’re only going if you feel comfortable doing that, kiddo,” he established firmly. Peter nodded.
“I am. I promise, Wade.”
“Alright then, Webs. Whenever you’re ready. How do you wanna travel?”
“We can use webs. I don’t mind you touching me now.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yes I’m sure, Wade. I promise,” Peter huffed out. He crouched down a bit even though Wade probably didn’t need him to, and that was all he had to do. Wade jumped on his back, whooping.
“Let’s gooooo!!!” Peter snorted and Wade grinned. They were off.
“I’m being carried by my best friend! ME! I’M LIKE, 210 POUNDS! THIS RIGHT HERE, MY BEST FRIEND, IS THE STRONGEST MAN I KNOW! THE STRONGEST PERSON!” Wade shouted it out into the night, not caring that some people could be asleep. Most people probably weren’t; New York was the city that never sleeps for a reason.
“Wade, stop bouncing around! I can’t carry you if you keep doing that!” Peter protested, but he was laughing and bashful. Score!
Peter finally landed softly on Wade’s fire escape and they climbed in the window.
“Alright hi MTV, I’m Wade. Welcome to my crib!” He swept his arm in front of him even though Peter had been here before. Peter laughed again.
“You’re ridiculous, Wade.”
“So I’ve been told, Baby Boy. So I’ve been told. Now, lemme show you a lil somethin’s.” He took off his suit ‘til it reached his belt and gestured Peter closer. He traced a line below his pecs and Peter stared in wonder. “These? Top surgery scars.” He then showed Peter the patch of his skin on his left forearm that looked just a bit different from the rest. “This? Phalloplasty scars.”
“Wow,” Peter breathed.
“This can be you one day if you want it, Baby Boy. I mean it.” Peter nodded numbly. Wade then gestured at Peter again to follow him and took him to the bathroom, where he pulled out a kit from under the sink. It was his kit for his T shots.
“But . . . how?” Peter asked, jealousy colouring his speech. “You have a stronger healing factor than I do.”
“I know, Petey, I know,” Wade responded gently. “This is a custom dosage. People can do that for you, y’know? Just because we have healing factors doesn’t mean we’re not allowed the same things any other trans boy has. I have a friend who does this for me. I can introduce you to him, if you want.”
“Oh yes please,” Peter responded almost giddily. Wade smiled.
“I’ll send you his contact info. Just tell him you’re a frienda DP’s, or somethin’. He’ll ask you shit about your healing factor, like how long things’ll take to heal and shit? But I promise he won’t do anything even remotely invasive without clear consent from you. I think you’ll like him.”
“Oh thank you so much, Wade. Thank you so, so much. You just made my day a whole lot better,” Peter said gratefully, throwing his arms around Wade’s middle and hugging him, suit half off and all. Wade hugged him right back.
“Anything for my favourite person,” Wade promised. “You hungry? We can make pancakes. I hear they’re a great comfort food.” They broke apart.
“Yes please! You know, sometimes, you have the best ideas. This is why you’re my best friend.” Wade totally, definitely squealed and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.
“I’m Petey’s best friend!”
“Of course you are, you giant doofus.” Peter rolled his eyes at Wade.
“He says of course you are like it’s obvious!! Like it’s weird to think otherwise!” Peter slapped him lightly on the arm.
“Shut up and stop being stupid. You’re acting like it’s mind blowing that I wouldn’t be best friends with you when you’re you. Let’s go make those pancakes.” Wade batted his eyes dramatically and pretended to swoon.
“Oh, Petey. You make my heart beat out of my chest,” he said in a falsetto voice. Peter turned him around and shoved him lightly in the direction of the door.
“Pancakes. Make,” he demanded.
“Okay, okay. We will, we will. You want some other clothes first?” Peter nodded and they headed to Wade’s bedroom. He pulled some sweatpants and a hoodie out of the pile on the chair in the corner and tossed them at Peter. He then took some clothes from the floor himself and they turned their backs to each other and changed. When he turned around, he noticed Peter surreptitiously pulling the collar up a bit and inhaling.
“Hey, Pete. You want some of my cologne?” Peter turned around, looking guilty at first for having been caught, but his eyes lit up at the word ‘cologne’.
“Yes please,” he answered eagerly, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Wade grabbed his stick of cologne and rolled some on Peter’s wrists.
“Wow, thanks so much!”
“Of course, Petey. Look at you! You’re like the most masculine person I’ve ever met!” Peter puffed up his chest with pride. “Now come on. Let’s go make those pancakes.” Wade was now the one gently steering Peter to the kitchen. They both whooped.