Au Spiderman and Deadpool

First contact (Not really)

Peter Parker sighed as he took off his mask, slowly and breathed deeply. It was a tiring day, filled with crime, violence and fighting in general. In short, the usual. Maneuvering around his land mines that were his precariously stacked pile of books, he went and sat down. Tangling his fingers between his hair, he slumped, defeated as he pondered the shitstorm that was his life. Well, it wasn't all bad, but he had a lot of limitations and responsibilities. He had to micromanage his reputation, since everything he did was analyzed in more often than not, a bad light. He had to pass uni, keep earning money from his numerous jobs and fight crime all at the same time. He could barely feed himself and pay for the bills. It tired him so much. To top it off, it was barely the tip of the iceberg. He couldn't believe he was still sane after what went to. Truly, insanity would be a breath of fresh air for spidey. Oh look, he's jealous of Deadpool. What was he doing with his life?

Rubbing his face with the palm of his hand he lied down, ignoring the math textbook digging into his back. It was a paperback. Probably. He couldn't tell anymore, since his nervous system is highly resistant to pain and his skin had toughened over the years. Groaning, the tired man reached for his - cold - cup of coffee. He couldn't afford to reheat it. Gulping it down, he stood up and shuffled towards his desk. On it, his homework, work and books and a list reminding him of the tasks ahead of him. He sat down on his somewhat comfy chair and started working.

He stretched later when he was done with work. He lifted his arms over his head and -pop - oh, that felt so good. He grunted in appreciation. He worked out a kink in his spine.

Peter glanced at the clock hanging on his wall. 3:45 am. Wonderful. He still had to study, which meant he won't sleep. Oh god he felt so tired. How long has it been since he last slept? No, stop it, he needed to concentrate. Re-reading his list, he sighed. He had two days before the mock exams. Sure, they weren't 'real' exams, but still. Wunderbar. Besides, there was no reason to go to sleep. Over the years he developed insomnia, making it extremely hard to sleep at all. Opening his book on genetics among others, he pulled out a few sheets of paper and got to work. Again.

A few hours later, our adorable spidey was finally done with everything. Mechanically, he stood and headed over to his fridge to see if there was something he could eat. There was, thankfully. Chinese leftovers and a taco. Peter would have to eat it without reheating, but food was food. Pulling out the takeaway box and the neatly wrapped taco, he placed them on the table. He spun around, reaching for his cutlery drawer when a flash of blue caught his eye. Goody, he forgot to take off his suit. Yay! More laundry! Face palming, he started muttering to himself about his stupidity. Okay, maybe he lied. He wasn't exactly a role model in the sanity department, but at least he was more sane than, say, Deadpool. Right, that doesn't say much about his mental health. Huh. But I digress.

Peeling of his suit and throwing towards his laundry pile, he sat down and began to scarf down his food. Yes it was cold, but he didn't care. He was hungry. Could you blame him? He hadn't eaten in ten hours, more or less. At this point he didn't care what ate. So long as he could not be hungry. 

Yet, there was something he was forgetting. It weighed in the back of Peters' mind. Even his spider-sense began to tingle, gently at first, then smacking him with a full blown migraine. He frowned, struggling to recall the abstract thought. Five seconds later, bam! He remembered. He was supposed to meet Deadpool. Well, more like the mercenary whined at him and pleaded and he grudgingly accepted. A look towards the clock clinched it. He had to get going. Soon. Preferably right now. Almost tripping in his haste, he ran towards his bathroom and stripped. He shivered as cold water cascaded over his back, but he gritted his teeth and bared with it. He didn't have the time to wait for it to heat up. Two minutes later, he exited the bathroom, dried himself and got dressed in a fresh pair of boxers and his other suit that wasn't in the the laundry pile.