tactile authority || spiderman x deadpool

;;too hot

The most important thing about Wade losing his regenerative abilities is that he's more of an asshole than ever. In Peter's humble opinion, of course. Because now he's too attractive for his own good and the younger superhero doesn't quite know what to make of it. Wade's pretty much still just Wade—precarious and mouthy as ever—but Peter thinks he has definitely reached a new level of assholery.

Peter hates it because he can't look away.

"Like what you see, Spidey?" Wade actually flips his hair. That gorgeous blonde mop of hair that matches his stupidly attractive blonde stubble that makes Peter's mouth dry.

Peter feels like swallowing his tongue. "I think I'm obligated to," he says weakly and decides that he's going to stick to the story that he wasn't staring at Wade for the past ten minutes like a teenage girl with her celebrity crush.

"You're a pro at flirting, aren't you?" Wade snorts but grins at him. Everything had been a lot easier when they were suited up, where Wade looked no different than usual and Peter could ignore that he had gotten ridiculously hot. Unfortunately, that really did nothing for Peter thinking about it constantly to the point that he may or may not have nearly faceplanted into a building via swinging web.

Even more unfortunately, his attention span had been doomed the moment that Wade offered—or really, whined until he agreed—to hang out back at his place. He says as he removes his mask and shakes his head and Peter just watches in rapt attention because he's sweaty and his hair is tousled.

Wade really can't blame him for staring.

"I think I've sent you into a catatonic state with my face," Wade says happily, like he's absolutely tickled by this which he probably is because he's a crazy bastard that gets off on his misery and laughs about it with boxes in his head. The boxes must have been pretty enthusiastic about it too because Wade casually strips off the top of his suit and retreats to the kitchen, leaving a catatonic Spider-Man hyperventilating on his couch.

"This is either the best thing that's ever happened to me, or the worst," Peter mutters as Wade comes back in the room—shirtless, very shirtless with abs that ripple on for days and finely cut muscle and oh god—and tosses a can of coke at his head. That Peter lets hit his forehead before flailing and cursing.

When he looks back up, Wade's face is way too close to his and the couch is suddenly very crowded because there's not enough room for the teenager to sputter and try to back up being that his back hits the arm of the couch almost immediately. The unopened can of coke rolls on the ground forgotten, but that's alright because Peter is having enough problems focusing with a half naked mercenary nearly straddling him.

"I think we should play a game," Wade says, his lips still curled up smugly. "It's called Too Hot. Hell if I know if it's an actual game but it was on tumblr and that place is just full of good ideas."

Peter just nods, feeling his face heat up—maybe he's winning already. "And...how do you play it? Turn off the air conditioning? Stick your head in the oven?"

"I think that's a different game—except you stick your head in a microwave not an oven. No—wait, that's a horror movie. Isn't it? Yeah. We should watch that sometime, totally," Wade muses but tilts his head in thought, "Oh right. Too Hot. So it's a sex thing."

Of course it is.

"We just have to kiss without touching each other. First one to touch the other loses," he explains as if it's simple and not potentially the most destructive idea Peter has ever heard pertaining to his mental health.

"I...I can do that. Not like that'll be that hard or anything," Peter says with a nervous laugh. He's so doomed. So, so, incredibly fucked over and part of him is maybe hoping that may be literal if he does this correctly. Pull it together, Parker.