Tacos, Spider-suits and Sex

Chapter 11

Peter was ashamed to say that he'd fallen asleep in the middle of a pizza box fortress no more than three feet high.

It had started with a bit of architectural professionalism, of course. Peter's proud sense of doing everything like it was his best was the reason he crawled into that fort, not because he wanted to do it. He merely felt it was his job as a resident of Casa le Deadpool to make sure it was structurally sound. So while Wade was finishing the last few adjustments (because adjacent guarding towers and a little remote controlled sports car to show how rich the king was is somehow completely necessary) Peter had wormed his way inside, just to see if he could fit through without knocking the whole thing down. The fact that he didn't crawl back out after making it inside was completely irrelevant.

Honestly, he blamed his moment of weakness on how comfortable it had been once he'd curled up on the old blanket Wade had spread out inside. The fort wasn't necessarily large, and Peter had to curl his knees into his chest to accommodate his height, but it was still a satisfying amount of space. He could stretch his legs out straight if he really wanted to, making the form of an L with his body.

Peter watched Wade work through the cracks between the pizza boxes, tiredly. Smirking to himself as Deadpool diligently set up the final details. It gave him an odd sense of domestication really, like they were kids playing together. Because, of course, building forts was something normally only kids did. Smiling, Peter acknowledged that he felt more alive playing house, content with himself and his surroundings. So it honestly wasn't his fault that he was comfortable enough to close his eyes. He blamed Wade... and his childishness.

It was a ridiculous notion, but he felt safe in that little cardboard fortress. It wasn't even strong enough to stop the attack of a pissed off kitten, let alone something actually dangerous, but he still felt like it was the place to be. Safe, knowing that Deadpool was the knight just outside, guarding that castle. But maybe that was stupid of him. Feeling secure in Deadpool's line of sight? The guy was a psychopathic mercenary, and Peter was essentially lying down with the wolves by feeling safe there.

But... he didn't want to think about that anymore. That was the entire point in coming here.

He wanted to just ignore the alley, ignore the mysterious threat Deadpool refused to talk about, ignore the mercenary, really. Well, ignore the factthat he was a mercenary, not ignore Wade. At least for a while. Peter wanted Wade with him right now. He wanted to go back to the frivolous conversations and Taco Bell burritos, the amazing, whenever-the-hell-he-wanted orgasms and the stupid banter they tossed back and forth in between everything else they did. He wanted that happy feeling back. That tight chest and swirling in his gut that made him feel ten pounds lighter. The easiness of it all, that reassuring feeling of having someone there to hold you when days were tough.

He wanted to live safely in Wade's pizza castle.

So yeah, sue him for falling asleep in a cardboard fort.

Processing these thoughts took a bit of a toll on Peter's self image. He started to rouse himself with the notion he was being ridiculous. He should get up and stop daydreaming. Peter wasn't sure how long he'd actually been asleep, but he couldn't hear Wade shifting the cardboard around anymore. He was preparing to crawl out and half-heartedly reprimand Wade for letting him sleep under a pile of pizza boxes, but he was stopped before he could sit up. The weight over his side wasn't exactly heavy, at the most it was lazily constricting and warm. Really warm. Comfortable fuzzy socks and fireworks kind of warm and- wow being around Deadpool was really taking a toll on the way his brain processed things.

Wade was curled around him, a palm pressed flat over his chest and an arm tucked underneath his head like a comfortable pillow. Obviously Wade must have crawled in after him at some point. The arm around his chest tightened possessively and suddenly Peter's thoughts were a jumble.