(no subject)
Title: Fix You
Author/Artist: caughtincobwebs
Chapter: One-Shot
Universe: Earth 616, kind of?
Rating: R
Warnings: Slash!
Beta: none ;-;
Summary: Wade just realized Peter needs some fixing.
Pairings/Characters: Wade/Peter, one-sided!Peter/Matt
Word Count: 2067
A/N: This is for pada-something, and it's also her fault.
On AO3
"Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try, to fix you"
- Fix You (Coldplay)
One thing about Deadpool: better than Spider-Man’s spider sense, he had a thing that attracted him back to Peter whenever he was feeling like shit.
And Peter felt like shit on a regular basis, let’s face it. His life sucked without feelings to deal with, but when feelings got involved things just turned into a huge mess. Specially when the whole feelings avalanche was caused by a close friend, Matt Murdock himself.
One thing about Spider-Man: he learned the hard way that bitching wouldn’t get him anywhere, wouldn’t fix his wounds or make his chest hurt any less.
So when Wade Wilson showed up on his doorstep, holding an expensive bottle of champagne and a bouquet of red roses - not to mention the tuxedo he was wearing, that didn’t match Peter’s boxers and Lost t-shirt - he could only raise his eyebrows and put the whole mourning after Matt and Felicia thing on hold.
“What’s this?” was his first reaction, and he closed the door just a little, enough to avoid a Wade intrusion. The other - no mask - pouted and shoved the bouquet towards him.
“I’m here to fix you! You know, give you a shoulder to cry on. I even bought you flowers!”
Second thing about Wade Wilson slash Deadpool: He was insane and for some reason thought Peter slash Spider-Man was a girl.
“That’s very nice, sweetheart, but I can’t see a box of chocolate with those flowers!” Peter joked, keeping the poker face. That’s when Wade shook his head, sighing out loud.
“I knew I was forgetting something.” He waved the bottle in front of Peter’s face. “That’s why I got this on my way! Ya like it?”
Peter blinked a few times and rested his shoulder against the doorframe, pressing his lips together, watching, analyzing. “What are you doing here? Really...?”
Wade pouted. “I already told you that. I’m here to fix you. You’re not you if you’re sad.”
Second thing about Peter Parker slash Spider-Man: he couldn’t deal with sad faces, and Wade slash Deadpool pouting was on his top ten of saddest things to watch.
“Come on in. Don’t touch anything.” He said and turned around, the show he was watching paused on the telly, his bucket of popcorn forgotten on the couch.
Wade took a few steps inside, looking around, probably making mental notes. “Can I touch you?”
“No.” Peter frowned as he answered. Okay, he had five minutes of Wade, that was probably enough.
“Ya look good with almost no clothes on. It’s not my fault.”
Wade was standing in the middle of the small living room, looking terribly out of place with that tuxedo, and flowers and champagne. He wasn’t touching anything as he was instructed, and somehow, maybe because Peter was in a fragile state of emotions, he looked like for once he meant well. So carefully Peter took the flowers from him, taking a few steps back.
“I’ll put those in a vase, you can let your ass touch the couch. I’ll be back in a minute.”
And just because, Peter put on his black tuxedo before he went back to the living room. Just because it would be rude to be so comfy at home while Wade was all dressed up. He wanted to believe it was a trap or something, that Wade was going to ask him some stupid or crazy favor, and they would end up somewhere full of assassins.
But another part of him was screaming he had to give the guy a chance to prove he was not that insane.
On his way, he grabbed a couple glasses he used to drink wine with Mary Jane when she was still around, and popped them down in front of Wade, on the coffee table. “Okay, let’s do this!”
“Do what?” Wade asked, taken aback. He had ignored his orders of not touching and pressed play, and now was deeply entertained with House M.D., apparently.
He chuckled, because he wouldn’t expect anything else from Wade.
“The champagne. Be a gentleman, open it and serve us some.” He winked with crossed arms, waiting.
The taller man stood up, not before giving him a look from head to toe, the bottle in hands. “Ya got no shoes.”
“You can kick yours off.” Peter shrugged. Wade opened the paper around the bottle.
“I will. You look pretty dressed up, just as pretty with almost no clothes on. Why would anyone deny you?” And Wade raised an eyebrow, smirking when Peter held both glasses, waiting.
“Right? I have no idea. I’m cute!” He laughed when the bottle popped open and Wade poured them both some.
He raised his glass above their heads. “Cheers!” Wade said out loud, eyes on Peter for some reason.
And even though he had been mourning a few minutes ago, now he could barely remember why. “Cheers, Wade!” He delicately bumped his glass against the other’s and sipped the drink.
They were still sitting on the couch when the sky got dark, five or six House M.D. episode’s later, a bottle of great, awesome, really awesome and expensive champagne gone, and Wade had lost his tuxedo’s blazer and vest around the third one. His tie was lose and hanging around his neck, and they were both making silly comments on how Hugh Laurie was a good actor.
Wade was always mentioning some 80’s actors, insisting back at their days they would fit the character perfectly, and Peter was insisting no one could do it better than Hugh Laurie himself.
Peter turned around on the couch, facing Wade, feeling a little tipsy, with things feeling a little too far from him. “You saved my night. You could totally count yourself as a hero right now.”
Wade turned to him with something that looked like surprise on his eyes. “A hero? Me?”
Peter nodded and sat up straight, still turned to him. “Yeah. You came here and you fixed me, I guess. I don’t think I’m sad, at least not right now. You’re insane and you make no sense most of the time. But I think that’s exactly what I needed right now.”
“My Deadpool sense was tingling, I had to stop by. Do you have more episodes or can we start the feelings jam now? Because I could let you know a few things.”
Okay, he was tipsy, but he wasn’t drunk. Not enough to start talking about feelings. Peter went through a hard time accepting he had feelings for a human being that was not female, and after all the mind war he went through, the other human being didn’t have feelings for him. It scared him at first, to realize his heartbreak was caused by a man, but when he came around the fact, calmed down and confessed his feelings, and then got reject, the fear got reduced to nothing. It hurt, more than Carlie dumping him.
More than Felicia saying he was predictable.
And somehow it was Deadpool who gave him a few good laughs to forget everything, o why not let him talk?
“Sure. Go on, I’m curious.” Peter said and smiled.
“Sad doesn’t fit you.” Wade started, and turned around to face him. “I’m not good with the whole pals stuff, I get it wrong most of the time, they say.”
“Who?” Peter frowned.
“They.” Wade shrugged.
“Who are they?” Peter raised an eyebrow.
“They!” Wade pointed his head. “Will ya let me continue or ye’d rather I explain the whole yellow and white boxes?”
There. He was crazy, insane, a total lost cause. “Sure, go on. Yellow and white boxes can wait.”
“Yup. Yeah. Kinda.” Wade sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “So, I heard ya were going through a hard time, and I couldn’t just let ya lose this. Ya have that thing, that makes people’s stomach turn when ya smile and crack silly and not-even-a-tad funny jokes, that make people laugh anyway. And I though: I can’t let him lose it.” He stared into Peter’s eyes, hardly noticing the blush on his face.
“Uh... Wade...” Peter started. Damn, this was getting awkward.
“So, I asked them: what would a good pal do? And they said we should get you flowers, and chocolate, and dress up and pay ya a visit. But, as ya could see, we had to substitute the chocolate for champagne. Both start with ‘ch’! Both are good! Almost the same thing. So here I am. And ya may not want to tell me what brought ya down, mainly because ya know I know it. But if ya want to, I’m here. I’ve been rejected too many times, I can give ya some advices.”
He should feel offended.
Really, he should.
But somehow the whole declaration made his heart warmer, and he even let a small smile make it’s way to his lips as he looked down at the space between them. Wade had no idea, but was great at making people feel better. Peter wanted to say that, but the moment he opened his mouth, a hand took hold of his chin and brought his face up.
“Hey, keep smiling.” Wade said with a smile of his own.
Peter had no idea what got to him, but he closed the distance, pressed their lips together, pulling Wade closer by both sides of his tie, lips parting when - after a few seconds of no response - Wade’s tongue found it’s way into his mouth. He had never been with another man, bigger hands all over him, dominating kiss and being the one pulled up to someone’s lap was something new for him.
And damn, it felt good.
He placed his arms around the taller man’s shoulders, pulling him closer while Wade’s hands pressed skin against skin on the small of his back. He didn’t want to pull back, breathing was futile when there were all those things to keep experimenting, but he had to, eventually. Both were gasping for air, swollen lips and eyes locked on each others.
“God...” Peter gasped, Wade’s hands caressing a pattern on his skin.
“Today is officially awesome. Ya call me a hero, ya kiss me and now ya think I’m God!” Wade pecked his lips again, still smiling. “Why aren’t ya kicking me out of yer house?”
Peter frowned and stared. What was he implying. “I was the one that kissed you. Oh!” He realized something.
Third thing about Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, not the hero, the man: He was impulsive. If he felt like it, he did.
Third thing about Wade Wilson, not Deadpool, not the merc, the man: He had been in love with Peter Parker for five years now.
He had never acted on it five years ago because back then Peter was a minor. But he tried his best to show his affection, and whenever he tried, Peter would call him insane.
And right now, everything was coming back to Peter.
Everything Wade did for him, the ways he tried to show he cared, to voice how much he admired him, all things! Everything was coming back.
He felt stupid, and an asshole and the kisses Wade was trailing down his neck were not helping.
Peter moaned when Wade bit sensitive skin. “This is... it feels...”
“...right.” Wade said against his neck. “Right? It feels right. Ya were about to say that, right? It feels right.”
He was silent for a moment. “Yes.” Peter smiled and nodded. “It feels right. And I think you shouldn’t leave.”
And suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, holding him, and Wade was staring, with puppy eyes and a grin that said he was hoping he had heard right. “Really?”
Peter shrugged. “Yeah. Why not? You fixed me, I don’t feel like letting you go.”
“Ya shoudn’t, I’m precious. Ya know, folks would kill to be ya right now! They’re saying I got lucky today, and yer my lucky charm, or something. We agreed!” Wade smiled, nodding, holding him close.
Peter chuckled and rested his forehead against Wade’s, watching blue eyes stare back at him. “Seriously, tomorrow we’re having a long talk about those boxes of yours. Right now, just send them away to give us some privacy, okay?” And before Wade could answer, Peter kissed him again.
Author/Artist: caughtincobwebs
Chapter: One-Shot
Universe: Earth 616, kind of?
Rating: R
Warnings: Slash!
Beta: none ;-;
Summary: Wade just realized Peter needs some fixing.
Pairings/Characters: Wade/Peter, one-sided!Peter/Matt
Word Count: 2067
A/N: This is for pada-something, and it's also her fault.
On AO3
"Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try, to fix you"
- Fix You (Coldplay)
One thing about Deadpool: better than Spider-Man’s spider sense, he had a thing that attracted him back to Peter whenever he was feeling like shit.
And Peter felt like shit on a regular basis, let’s face it. His life sucked without feelings to deal with, but when feelings got involved things just turned into a huge mess. Specially when the whole feelings avalanche was caused by a close friend, Matt Murdock himself.
One thing about Spider-Man: he learned the hard way that bitching wouldn’t get him anywhere, wouldn’t fix his wounds or make his chest hurt any less.
So when Wade Wilson showed up on his doorstep, holding an expensive bottle of champagne and a bouquet of red roses - not to mention the tuxedo he was wearing, that didn’t match Peter’s boxers and Lost t-shirt - he could only raise his eyebrows and put the whole mourning after Matt and Felicia thing on hold.
“What’s this?” was his first reaction, and he closed the door just a little, enough to avoid a Wade intrusion. The other - no mask - pouted and shoved the bouquet towards him.
“I’m here to fix you! You know, give you a shoulder to cry on. I even bought you flowers!”
Second thing about Wade Wilson slash Deadpool: He was insane and for some reason thought Peter slash Spider-Man was a girl.
“That’s very nice, sweetheart, but I can’t see a box of chocolate with those flowers!” Peter joked, keeping the poker face. That’s when Wade shook his head, sighing out loud.
“I knew I was forgetting something.” He waved the bottle in front of Peter’s face. “That’s why I got this on my way! Ya like it?”
Peter blinked a few times and rested his shoulder against the doorframe, pressing his lips together, watching, analyzing. “What are you doing here? Really...?”
Wade pouted. “I already told you that. I’m here to fix you. You’re not you if you’re sad.”
Second thing about Peter Parker slash Spider-Man: he couldn’t deal with sad faces, and Wade slash Deadpool pouting was on his top ten of saddest things to watch.
“Come on in. Don’t touch anything.” He said and turned around, the show he was watching paused on the telly, his bucket of popcorn forgotten on the couch.
Wade took a few steps inside, looking around, probably making mental notes. “Can I touch you?”
“No.” Peter frowned as he answered. Okay, he had five minutes of Wade, that was probably enough.
“Ya look good with almost no clothes on. It’s not my fault.”
Wade was standing in the middle of the small living room, looking terribly out of place with that tuxedo, and flowers and champagne. He wasn’t touching anything as he was instructed, and somehow, maybe because Peter was in a fragile state of emotions, he looked like for once he meant well. So carefully Peter took the flowers from him, taking a few steps back.
“I’ll put those in a vase, you can let your ass touch the couch. I’ll be back in a minute.”
And just because, Peter put on his black tuxedo before he went back to the living room. Just because it would be rude to be so comfy at home while Wade was all dressed up. He wanted to believe it was a trap or something, that Wade was going to ask him some stupid or crazy favor, and they would end up somewhere full of assassins.
But another part of him was screaming he had to give the guy a chance to prove he was not that insane.
On his way, he grabbed a couple glasses he used to drink wine with Mary Jane when she was still around, and popped them down in front of Wade, on the coffee table. “Okay, let’s do this!”
“Do what?” Wade asked, taken aback. He had ignored his orders of not touching and pressed play, and now was deeply entertained with House M.D., apparently.
He chuckled, because he wouldn’t expect anything else from Wade.
“The champagne. Be a gentleman, open it and serve us some.” He winked with crossed arms, waiting.
The taller man stood up, not before giving him a look from head to toe, the bottle in hands. “Ya got no shoes.”
“You can kick yours off.” Peter shrugged. Wade opened the paper around the bottle.
“I will. You look pretty dressed up, just as pretty with almost no clothes on. Why would anyone deny you?” And Wade raised an eyebrow, smirking when Peter held both glasses, waiting.
“Right? I have no idea. I’m cute!” He laughed when the bottle popped open and Wade poured them both some.
He raised his glass above their heads. “Cheers!” Wade said out loud, eyes on Peter for some reason.
And even though he had been mourning a few minutes ago, now he could barely remember why. “Cheers, Wade!” He delicately bumped his glass against the other’s and sipped the drink.
They were still sitting on the couch when the sky got dark, five or six House M.D. episode’s later, a bottle of great, awesome, really awesome and expensive champagne gone, and Wade had lost his tuxedo’s blazer and vest around the third one. His tie was lose and hanging around his neck, and they were both making silly comments on how Hugh Laurie was a good actor.
Wade was always mentioning some 80’s actors, insisting back at their days they would fit the character perfectly, and Peter was insisting no one could do it better than Hugh Laurie himself.
Peter turned around on the couch, facing Wade, feeling a little tipsy, with things feeling a little too far from him. “You saved my night. You could totally count yourself as a hero right now.”
Wade turned to him with something that looked like surprise on his eyes. “A hero? Me?”
Peter nodded and sat up straight, still turned to him. “Yeah. You came here and you fixed me, I guess. I don’t think I’m sad, at least not right now. You’re insane and you make no sense most of the time. But I think that’s exactly what I needed right now.”
“My Deadpool sense was tingling, I had to stop by. Do you have more episodes or can we start the feelings jam now? Because I could let you know a few things.”
Okay, he was tipsy, but he wasn’t drunk. Not enough to start talking about feelings. Peter went through a hard time accepting he had feelings for a human being that was not female, and after all the mind war he went through, the other human being didn’t have feelings for him. It scared him at first, to realize his heartbreak was caused by a man, but when he came around the fact, calmed down and confessed his feelings, and then got reject, the fear got reduced to nothing. It hurt, more than Carlie dumping him.
More than Felicia saying he was predictable.
And somehow it was Deadpool who gave him a few good laughs to forget everything, o why not let him talk?
“Sure. Go on, I’m curious.” Peter said and smiled.
“Sad doesn’t fit you.” Wade started, and turned around to face him. “I’m not good with the whole pals stuff, I get it wrong most of the time, they say.”
“Who?” Peter frowned.
“They.” Wade shrugged.
“Who are they?” Peter raised an eyebrow.
“They!” Wade pointed his head. “Will ya let me continue or ye’d rather I explain the whole yellow and white boxes?”
There. He was crazy, insane, a total lost cause. “Sure, go on. Yellow and white boxes can wait.”
“Yup. Yeah. Kinda.” Wade sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “So, I heard ya were going through a hard time, and I couldn’t just let ya lose this. Ya have that thing, that makes people’s stomach turn when ya smile and crack silly and not-even-a-tad funny jokes, that make people laugh anyway. And I though: I can’t let him lose it.” He stared into Peter’s eyes, hardly noticing the blush on his face.
“Uh... Wade...” Peter started. Damn, this was getting awkward.
“So, I asked them: what would a good pal do? And they said we should get you flowers, and chocolate, and dress up and pay ya a visit. But, as ya could see, we had to substitute the chocolate for champagne. Both start with ‘ch’! Both are good! Almost the same thing. So here I am. And ya may not want to tell me what brought ya down, mainly because ya know I know it. But if ya want to, I’m here. I’ve been rejected too many times, I can give ya some advices.”
He should feel offended.
Really, he should.
But somehow the whole declaration made his heart warmer, and he even let a small smile make it’s way to his lips as he looked down at the space between them. Wade had no idea, but was great at making people feel better. Peter wanted to say that, but the moment he opened his mouth, a hand took hold of his chin and brought his face up.
“Hey, keep smiling.” Wade said with a smile of his own.
Peter had no idea what got to him, but he closed the distance, pressed their lips together, pulling Wade closer by both sides of his tie, lips parting when - after a few seconds of no response - Wade’s tongue found it’s way into his mouth. He had never been with another man, bigger hands all over him, dominating kiss and being the one pulled up to someone’s lap was something new for him.
And damn, it felt good.
He placed his arms around the taller man’s shoulders, pulling him closer while Wade’s hands pressed skin against skin on the small of his back. He didn’t want to pull back, breathing was futile when there were all those things to keep experimenting, but he had to, eventually. Both were gasping for air, swollen lips and eyes locked on each others.
“God...” Peter gasped, Wade’s hands caressing a pattern on his skin.
“Today is officially awesome. Ya call me a hero, ya kiss me and now ya think I’m God!” Wade pecked his lips again, still smiling. “Why aren’t ya kicking me out of yer house?”
Peter frowned and stared. What was he implying. “I was the one that kissed you. Oh!” He realized something.
Third thing about Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, not the hero, the man: He was impulsive. If he felt like it, he did.
Third thing about Wade Wilson, not Deadpool, not the merc, the man: He had been in love with Peter Parker for five years now.
He had never acted on it five years ago because back then Peter was a minor. But he tried his best to show his affection, and whenever he tried, Peter would call him insane.
And right now, everything was coming back to Peter.
Everything Wade did for him, the ways he tried to show he cared, to voice how much he admired him, all things! Everything was coming back.
He felt stupid, and an asshole and the kisses Wade was trailing down his neck were not helping.
Peter moaned when Wade bit sensitive skin. “This is... it feels...”
“...right.” Wade said against his neck. “Right? It feels right. Ya were about to say that, right? It feels right.”
He was silent for a moment. “Yes.” Peter smiled and nodded. “It feels right. And I think you shouldn’t leave.”
And suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, holding him, and Wade was staring, with puppy eyes and a grin that said he was hoping he had heard right. “Really?”
Peter shrugged. “Yeah. Why not? You fixed me, I don’t feel like letting you go.”
“Ya shoudn’t, I’m precious. Ya know, folks would kill to be ya right now! They’re saying I got lucky today, and yer my lucky charm, or something. We agreed!” Wade smiled, nodding, holding him close.
Peter chuckled and rested his forehead against Wade’s, watching blue eyes stare back at him. “Seriously, tomorrow we’re having a long talk about those boxes of yours. Right now, just send them away to give us some privacy, okay?” And before Wade could answer, Peter kissed him again.