Chapter 8
11:12PM. Clinton Hill. Brooklyn.
Two figures clad in red sped across the rooftops, blurry in their pursuit of a man in what seemed to be a homemade superhero -or villain- costume of some kind. The speed of the pursuit was unreal. They weren't going to be kind to this spandex-donning assailant. The Spider-man tried at every angle to cut him off, swinging thread by thread in his efforts. The merc behind him was running full speed, miraculously jumping between the rooftops, katanas unsheathed and yelling every obscenity in the book. At last, a well aimed and frankly lucky web caught the man around the ankles, toppling him face-first into the gravel-coated floor of the roof of a tall building. Spider-man swung himself up the side of the building to assure their man in question didn't get away, leaving no regard to the speed at which his partner was running behind him. In a short second, crouching over the webbed-up fake-hero, he looked down just in time for the unfortunate sight of Deadpool jumping starfish-style into the side of the skyscraper. Spider-man opened his mouth to shout out a warning, but it wasn't worth it. Too late. " Man, what the FUCK? " His voice diminuendoed as he rapidly neared the ground. With a rather unsatisfying splat the merc hit the sidewalk below.
About five minutes and an awkward elevator ride with a scared and confused businessman who was quote, “ just here for a meeting” later, Deadpool rejoined his partner on the roof. The assailant (Ha ha, ass-ailant) had on a green morph-suit under a halloween Green Goblin mask (Timelines? What’s that?) and a pair of unforgivable thrift store sneakers. “So why’re we after this guy, anyway?” Spider-man inquired. He’d been told they needed to catch a criminal in a “Full-body alien dick costume” and stupidly hadn’t thought to question it. He was actually starting to trust Deadpool, but in hindsight, not inquiring further on this one wasn’t a great call. He winced, waiting for a bad explanation. (Is it Weasel? Are they pranking me? I bet it’s fucking Weasel.) The merc marched up to him matter-of-factly and leaned forward. “I will have you know that this man,” He pointed downwards at the man’s back, “Has been terrorizing people on the street all over Brooklyn, starting gang fights, acting shady as fuck in way too close proximity to schools and the little angels that inhabit them, acting a general shady fool for that matter, and we just caught him, and I will ALSO have you know that it is not in fact Weasel in a halloween mask.” He marched back down and crouched in front of the man’s face. “Isn’t that right?” The criminal grunted in reply. Spider-man recoiled for a moment. Did they seriously just track down an actual criminal who wears green tights and off-brand stinky reeboks? I’ll be damned.
“I-” He paused. “That’s actually a good step for you, stopping a real criminal, you’re finally taking yourself seriously as a-”
“Ah, who am I kidding, it’s totally Weasel.”
“ What?”
“Gotchaaah!” The merc cooed.
He pulled the mask off the assailant and yep, Weasel.
“ Dude!”
“Dude, yourself! This is totally on you! You know I’m being written off as a chaotic neutral!” Deadpool pleaded,
“Yeah, man, y’know like-” The merc’s friend was quickly interrupted.
“Zip it, rodent.” Spider-man said shortly.
“Nice quip. 6/10.” His partner chimed in.
“I’m disappointed in you, man. I thought you were actually taking this seriously. I’m sorry but like, especially after what happened,” He hesitated and lowered his voice a notch. “I thought you might make some effort in life to not keep disappointing me. I want to trust you.” Back at normal pitch, he sputtered. “Man- I just, can we just- You know what? Let’s talk about this when you can take it seriously. You know where to find me.” Turning his back to his friend, he gracefully jumped from the roof, and swung away into the distance. His friend stood on the roof taken aback, processing the statement. After a second, he ran up to the ledge and shouted, “ NO I DON’T!” but the web-slinger was already gone. A moment of silence passed.
“So is he like, your boyfriend or something?”
“Eat a fucking dick, Weasel. I told you I’m dating Peter.”
“You don’t shut up about it.” The bartender murmured.
“Damn right I don’t.” He crossed his arms assertively.
“No offense man, but it was like, one date, I don’t think-”
In a split second, Weasel heard the sound of a gun being cocked behind him.
“ Nevermind, nevermind, you’re dating Peter, ” he struggled against the webs confining him to the ground.
Deadpool stored the handgun back in its holster and promptly walked over to the staircase entrance. “ Wait, Wade, aren’t you gonna cut me out of these things?” His friend panicked, writhing in place on the ground.
“Spidey says they dissolve in like, 6 hours or whatever,” he said nonchalantly. Drowning out Weasel’s complaints and pleas, he halfheartedly flipped his friend the bird and closed the door behind him.
1:15AM. Central Park. Great Lawn.
Spider-man sat on a bench, leant forward, elbows resting on his knees, with his head in his hands. The red webbed mask lie beside him, and a messy head of dark brown hair tangled around his gloved hands. (Have I ever written a more cliche fanfic line? The answer is NO) He wasn’t crying or in any real emotional distress. It was just confusion. He wanted so badly to trust his friend, but things seemed to just be getting more and more uncomfortable. He’d dug himself into a hole. Normally, Spider-man was his escape from the social or personal or whatever struggles in life, it worked to fist-fight and tackle and arrest away his emotional problems, but now there was no escape. Spider-man was just as conflicted as Peter. The whole roommate situation was almost not even a concern compared to what was happening in his life at night. He knew he had to make a choice, and stop leading one of them on. It was the right thing to do. He sat back up and tapped his foot, breathing quickly and crescendoing in anxiety levels. Peter Parker weighed his options. He actually liked Wade, and felt like he could trust him. But what about the whole already-living-together thing? What if they decided it didn’t work? It’d be easier, logically, to break the idea off now and just be roommates. He can find a relationship somewhere else. It’s inappropriate. But that one night last week? It was the best Peter had felt in his limited dating life in a very long time. Was it really him, or was the happiness just from feeling desired? But- He knew internally it was Wade, but at this point it didn’t even matter. A choice had to be made.
Deadpool . Oh, fucking Deadpool. What a fucking thorn in his side. Peter’s head turned hot as he grew in anger, thinking over what had happened. He gave him a chance. He went out on a ledge. It felt so right at the time, but all it did was make things worse. He had so much good feeling towards his friend, almost even flighty-teenager-y feeling, but after that kiss, things felt different. Like the knowledge it couldn’t ever work had contaminated the idea of them continuing to like one another. Now the merc probably has the idea they’re an item. Fuck. Why hadn’t DP brought it up? It seemed like something he’d take and run an annoying comedic marathon with. The tension in having not said anything was almost worse than the fact it even happened. Almost. It was his fault this even happened, with both Deadpool and Wade. He was the one who, in a moment of weakness, actually initiated a fucking kiss between him and the obnoxious mercenary whom was so pathetically devoted to him. He was the one who had to go and call a normal activity (Although he still considered Rocky Horror far from normal) like going to a movie a fucking date. Peter knew he was leading them both on. He got himself into this mess, and he was going to get himself out of it. But how?
A rustling in bushes across the way alerted his spider-sense, and hastily he returned the mask over his features. Instinctively, Spider-man stood up, on-end in unknowing. The hairs on the back of his neck twitched, readying for possible violence.
“Just me! Don’t shoot!” Two red-and-black gloved hands waved from the bush.
“You voyeuristic piece of shit.” Spider-man seethed. “I’m not in the mood.”
He processed his own words for a second, and suddenly his heart dropped.
“You didn’t- You didn’t see me without my mask, did you?” He worried.
“What? No. I just got here.” Deadpool quizzed.
“I don’t have time for your shit, man. Did you or did you not?”
“I didn’t. … Promise.”
Peter’s nerves loosened a little. That sounded sincere. Even if the merc was lying, he was just so tired at this point, he wouldn’t even have anything to lose if Deadpool had seen him.
“Can we talk?” Deadpool climbed rather un-gracefully out of the bushes.
“About what?” Spidey sneered.
“Tax returns. What do you fucking think?”
“Are you actually gonna be serious?”
“That one’s still up in the air.”
Spider-man sighed. He sat back down on the bench and gestured for the merc to join him.
“I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Me neither.”
“Okay, you know what man? I’m just gonna lay this out for you.” Spider-man began. “What happened that night, in the East River Park? We need to forget that. I don’t know why I did it, and as much as I hate you sometimes, well, most the time, you don’t deserve to be lead on like that. I have someone else and it’s not fair to them either. So I’m sorry, I guess. I’m not saying you’re not still partially at fault here too, though. But whatever the nature of this relationship was, or is, it’s going to stop. From now on we are absolutely nothing but colleagues. We work together. That’s it.”
A moment of tense silence played by as Deadpool processed the statement.
“I, uh- I came here to tell you the same thing, actually.”
“What?”
“I know, we’re like, psychically connected or something.” He wiggled his fingers between their faces. “But yeah. I found a someone else too. I’ll stop the flirting and stuff, all of it, I promise.”
“... For real this time.” He added.
Another moment of silence.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Yet another moment of silence.
“So what’s your someone else like? Must be a real charmer that you’re picking them over me.” The merc chatted.
“He’s uh- he’s cool. We’re not really dating, actually. It was just one date. But it’s mostly a crush thing.” Spider-man admitted. That was honest, and without a doubt all he intended to say on the subject.
“Sounds like quite the romantic. Does this casanova have a name?”
“Not one I’ll be telling you anytime soon.”
Deadpool started a plead, but bit his tongue. Best not get on Spidey’s nerves right now.
“Well, it’s best I’ll be going. I’ll go crawl back into the bushes now. There’s a portal in there, you know.”
“Okay. … Are we cool?”
“Yep.” Deadpool said, popping the ‘p’. That sounded weirdly familiar. Where had Peter heard someone say it like that before?
7:39AM. Apartment. Manhattan.
Peter Parker stood in the shower, hands resting on his neck. He felt better, but not by much. At least there was some confliction off his plate. He desperately hoped he made the right choice by letting the merc go. Guess we’ll have to wait and see. And what of Wade? Guess we’ll have to wait on that too. They’d arranged a lavish living-room hangout to watch movies this Saturday, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for it. Maybe things will sort themselves out the more time they spend together. As he speculated who would possibly ever want to be Deadpool’s “someone else” he found himself to be a massive hypocrite. Truth was, Peter wished he’d been the “someone else”. The confliction didn’t wash away into the drain like he hoped it would. Just water. And a few tears.