Finally
Peter thought he'd go crazy if he had to sit another second in the tower. He was brimming with excitement now that his chest was healed. They slowed down on the medication to allow the incisions to heal. Once they were closed and Peter was able to lift his arms without pain Bruce said he should put the cream on every other day. As soon as he got the okay he went left shouting a goodbye to anyone who could hear.
It's not like anyone was being rude, if anything a bit overbearing. Being unable to go out as Spiderman was making him antsy. He was so used to always being busy that when he was finally free he had no idea what to do. The scheduled he had wasn't the healthiest but he had gotten used to it. It was a part of him. With everything that changed he became lost. Not physically obviously. It was like a part of himself had been scrambled up. He had lost himself. And in the haze of unfamiliarity he reached out to what he knew. And that, at the moment, was tacos.
The first lunch Wade and he had shared was tacos he said he got from a truck just a few blocks away. He wasn't able to see the man so he decided to get second best. The truck was still there serving people. He rushed up behind the last customer eager to eat. He took a step forward glancing to the front of the line to see how long he'd have to wait when he saw a familiar grey hoodie. When the bigger man turned around he saw the red spider on the front. He knew that hoodie. He grinned, stepping out of line to greet the man when he looked up and realized who he saw. He knew that face.
"Wade."
The man looked up, eyes widening in what looked like fear. Of course he was the same person! How had Peter not put it together? The scarred man he met at the laundry mat. Wade. The scarred mercenary. Wade. It was so obvious.
"Wade," he said again walking closer. The taller man whipped his head away. "You're...I've met you before! Wade why didn't you tell me?"
"Now's not a good time," he muttered lowly.
"Wh-right. Sorry. You're still on the case." Wade's shoulders went tense and he looked to Peter. Glancing at him from the side of his hood so that Peter wouldn't be able to see him completely. The younger smiled at him gesturing to the truck. "I was just about to get some too. Any recommendations?" The merc was clearly uncomfortable. Peter knew he should give the man space but hearing his voice was enough to sooth that lost feeling he had.
"Al pastor. Or carne asada with queso fresco."
Peter laughed nervously, "I'm defiantly not going to pronounce that correctly." He glanced up at Wade cupping the back of his neck. "Uh, well since we're already here do you maybe want to eat together?"
"Not now Peter."
"Because of the mask? Wouldn't it be better if people didn't know you were...the other you?" Way to be hypocritical, Peter thought bitterly.
Wade looked away again, "because of my face."
"Do they know you're face?"
"Some of them do," he mumbled. "That's not the point aren't you grossed out?"
"Um no? Should I be?"
This time Wade turned to him fully. "Yes! I've got prolapsed anus face!"
Peter opened his mouth but was unsure of what to say so he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. "I don't think-"
"You don't have to be nice about it. I get that that's your thing but I'm fugly. At least be honest."
Peter crossed his arms now glaring. "I mean that open one on your forehead looks pretty painful but it's not that bad."
Deadpool reached up to swipe at his forehead wincing before glaring back. "You-I-I said you can be honest!"
"I was honest!" Peter leaned forward a bit taking a better look. "You...you kinda look like Ryan Reynolds."
"That is an insult to the beautiful man!" They both started at each other. Then Peter started laughing. And because Peter was laughing Wade had to too. It was more of a tense chuckle but it still made him smile. When they calmed down they seemed to realize they were on a crowded street.
"Well I'm glad I got to see you," Peter smiled. "I didn't think we'd meet up for a while."
A faint pink took up Wade's skin in a random pattern around his cheeks. "Me either."
"Guess we still have a while to go," he murmured disappointed.
Deadpool looking down at the sidewalk. "I mean if my face doesn't bother you maybe we can eat?"
Peter beamed, "I'm not bothered. I just have to get the-" he pointed to the truck.
"I have enough for both of us," Wade offered lifting up the paper bag. Peter agreed and they started walking. The younger wasn't sure where he was just following Wade. He asked how the merc was and if there were any new leads. "Weapon X was at my apartment. I took care of them but it got SHIELD's attention. I had to move to a safe house outside of the city."
"Is that where we're going?"
Wade paused as if realizing where he was leading them. "I was but we don't have to go there. I'm okay with sitting somewhere?"
"I'm okay with going. Where else are you gonna finish all those," he gestured to the two cases of beer.
"How old are you by the way?"
"21," Peter glanced at him. "You?"
"Older then you," Wade muttered. The hero waited for him to continue. "32"
11 years, that was a stretch. They were still in the same generation but it was still a larger gap then Peter anticipated. He found that he didn't mind though. He shook his head it's not like he should care anyways. They were just friends. At least that's what it seemed like. Wade was always flirting with him and it's not like Peter ever stopped him.
It took a while but they eventually made it to Wade's safe house. "I can't decide if this is better or worse then your last place," Peter said looking around the bare room.
"I like the other place. Has less needles," he nodded to the trash pile in the corner. Peter didn't even want to know what kind of disease waited inside. Wade set his things down to fold the stained futon back into place. He took a blanket from one of his bags and draped it over the couch. The near broken coffee table was cleared off enough to set up the stuff. Wade fiddled with an old radio on a crate next to the couch. The static ended on station playing classic rock.
"Beer?" Wade held one up to Peter who was dividing up the food. He looked at it unsure. He had expiermented with alcohol before but his tolerence was too high to actually get drunk. With a shrug he took it. He noticed now how the merc was unusually silent. He kept his hood on and wouldn't face Peter.
"You can put the mask on," he said opening the beer. "If it bothers you."
"It's not that," he said quietly. Peter sipped the beer. It was just as unsavory as he remembered. "I'm just not used to other people looking at me. I mean I am but they usually...stare."
"I won't look if you don't want me to," Peter said just as lowly.
"It's not that either. I just..." with an irritated sigh he pushed the hood off his head. Peter had his head tilted to him slightly, unsure if he should be looking. Wade looked to him. "I want to get used to it."
Peter smiled at him kindly, "Okay."
Wade let out a shuttering sigh. Peter was quick to change the topic. Asking if he would refurnish the house. If he'd go back to his apartment. How the case was going. If there was anything he could do to help the move easier. "This house warming party is just what I need," Wade admitted downing another beer.
"Can you even get drunk," the younger asked with a smirk.
"I can. But it has to be gallons of the stuff." Peter could sympathize with that. He set the now empty can aside opening his hand for another one. Wade scoffed, "what about your tolerance?"
"It's pretty high," he smirked taking the can the merc gave him. Wade asked him about school and work. Peter told him all about the horrible mid terms and his god aweful boss who threatened to fire him for not getting any recent pictures of Spiderman.
"He's out of town," Wade said leaning back into the couch. "On a mission with the Avengers."
"Now I know why he hasn't been around." Peter chugged the beer, swallowing his guilt. Wade was trusting him with his identity and he felt he was keeping so much from the scarred man. It was almost like he was drowning in shame.
"What's you're favorite color?"
Peter glanced at him, "we going to play 20 questions?"
"Heck yes, I'm going to go crazy without a TV here."
The smaller man chuckled looking to the ceiling. "Blue."
Wade gazed at him for a second before smirking. "Damn. If only this was a AU where I had blue eyes." When the younger man went to ask what the hell he was talking about Wade just waved him off.
Peter snorted taking another drink for his can. "You?"
"I like red," the merc said kicking his feet up onto the coffee table making it creak.
"Red is nice," he agreed. "What's your favorite food?"
"Pancakes. Or enchiladas depends on who's making them. And tacos...I just really like food. You?"
"Pizza," Peter shrugged. Honestly he'd eat anything giving to him too. He did like that he could get a whole pie for only five bucks. He'd have pizza for a week straight sometimes. Unhealthy but also very satisfying.
Wade sighed looking down at the tacos, "I should order some."
"Can you really eat more after this?" The hero asked already overwhelmed with how much he had. The beer had helped fill him up too.
"Is that a challenge?"
"No. No it's not." Wade chuckled downing the rest of the beer in his hand.
"Dogs or cats?" They traded back and forth, eventually getting through most of the tacos and a case of beer. They'd attempted a few drinking games but with just the two of them it ended quickly. Wade opened the other case as their laughter died out. Peter stared at the ceiling as he waited for Wade to ask the next question.
"Why did you talk to me that day in the laundry mat?"
Peter whipped his head to the merc not expecting the question. He thought back to that day not really remembering. It was months ago now he only recalled the man's face hidden under the hood. "I honestly can't remember that far back. But I'm pretty sure it was because it looked like you were staring at me. I thought I'd introduce myself."
"That was a while ago," the merc muttered. "Why'd you talk to me as Deadpool?"
"You introduced yourself to me. Thought I'd do the same," he shrugged. "It was kind of intimidating talking to the Merc with a Mouth."
"Sorry bout that."
The student shook his head, "don't be. I'm glad we met." They gazed at each other for a minute until Peter cleared his throat. "Why'd you talk to me?"
"Why wouldn't I want to talk to a boy with an ass as fine as yours?" The hero chuckled reaching forward to grab his own beer. He downed it hoping his blush wasn't too obvious. "How much does my face gross you out?"
Peter rolled his eyes, "didn't we already go through this."
"Scale of one to ten."
He sighed looking to Wade, "it's not that it grosses me out. It just looks...painful. I'm more upset because I can't begin to understand who'd do that to you. And I'm angry. Because it's clearly still effecting you."
"You gonna ask if they hurt," the mercenary teased.
"It's clear that they do. The open ones at least. Not going to lie there's a lot I want to ask. But I know that if you wanted to tell me you would have. I'm okay with not knowing," he looked to Wade. "Or waiting. Whatever it is. Whatever you need Wade I'm here for you." They stared at each other again. They seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. Peter couldn't help but notice how bright Wade's eyes were. Like a golden brown. "You have nice eyes."
Wade's face changed into the strange pattern of red. Peter now realized it was a blush. He slowly raised his hand, making sure Wade saw him as he did it. He didn't want to push him in any way. He just wanted to feel the heat in his skin. The tips of his fingers brushed along Wade's cheekbones feeling the uneven heated surface. Timid at first before he was sure, he cupped his cheek, leaning forward so that he could gently press his palm to his skin. He expected the merc to pull away.
Instead his eyes fluttered shut with his head turned into Peter's hand. Touch starved, he thought vaguely. Peter wanted to help him. He wanted to take away those insecurities. He wanted to see him smile again. But most of all he wanted to be close to this man. He wanted to tell him about his own insecurities and how they seemed to disappear whenever Wade was around. How the scarred man had would take away the pain he's felt for years even if it was just for a few hours. "Peter."
Peter hadn't realized how close he had gotten. His body was turned to face the scarred man. He was leaned forward to look closer at the details of his bone structure. His chin was strong, square, leading to his jaw, angled up to give his cheekbones more shape. Straight nose between a pair of deep set eyes. They were soft though. Even under his low brow bone. Peter was hypnotized. Mapping out features with his thumb. "You've been drinking," Wade whispered. To himself or the other he wasn't sure.
"I'm not even drunk," Peter murmured. It was true. He didn't even feel tipsy, just full. "Neither are you."
"We shouldn't," he continued in the same soft voice. Peter could feel his breath brush against his face.
"Do you not want to?" For a second Peter was worried he had read their situation wrong. That the older man was only teasing him.
"That's not it," his eyes looked between the others. A mix of emotions pulled across his face. Most of them were of distress. Peter cupped his face with both hands soothing out his expression with his fingers. He could feel Wade hold his breath, eyes still frantically darting between his. "I want to."
"Me too," he breath against Wade's lips. And that was all it took for them to kiss.