Something was different this time, Wade noticed as he sat beside his favorite superhero on top of a random roof in New York. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that something had happened but he just didn't know what. It was bugging him and it showed as Spider-Man kept throwing him concerned glances every so often.
"What's on your mind, Wade?" Spider-Man asked after a whole five minutes of silence between them. "You've been tense this entire time."
Wade made a sound that was a cross between a hum and a grumble, scrunching his face up beneath his mask and crossing his arms. "I dunno how to answer that, Webs. I'm not so sure, myself."
Spider-Man gave a huff, curiosity radiating from him like B.O. "Is it another comic book related thing?" he asked skeptically.
"It could be," Wade considered. "Maybe Marvel Comics made a big decision that'll affect us somehow. Though I doubt it, considering this is a fanfiction; none of this is canon."
Spider-Man sighed, shaking his head slightly. And it was quiet again. The city was busy beneath their feet. Neon lights glared behind them, warm on their spines. New York was still loud at night time, though there was considerably less honking this time around. You couldn't see the stars, but Wade could make out one bright shining ball of gas in the sky that he assumed was Polaris. The sky was so big, black, and empty. It was like staring into an endless void.
"Hey," Spider-Man's voice broke Wade from his trance. "You remember when we fought that laser guy last week? The one Matrix helped us catch?"
"Yeah, that was one light show I did not enjoy. I was still finding holes in my suit this morning that I had to patch up with duct tape," he huffed.
"Er, yeah, well... I never did thank you for taking all those hits for me. And I'm proud of you, y'know, for not killing anyone that time," Spider-Man muttered sheepishly. "You've really changed, Wade."
"It's no big deal, Webs. I'd happily take hits for you all the time. I'd rather I get shot than you, y'know, with my healing factor 'n all."
There was silence again, save for the sounds of the city, and Wade almost didn't catch Spider-Man's mumbled words but he did manage to hear: "It's a big deal to me." That surprised him. He turned so quickly he was sure he got whiplash but all his attention was on his very best friend whose name he didn't even know, sitting right beside him, head turned down and thumbs twiddling in his lap. There was something intimate about this moment between them which might have been Wade's motivation for deciding to remove his mask, revealing his scarred face and reddened skin. He felt comfortable sharing his identity with Spider-Man because he trusted him more than he's ever trusted anyone in his entire fucked up life.
He wondered if Spider-Man felt the same.
"Wade," his voice was shaky as he seemed to hesitate. Wade was patient for once. He didn't make any crude jokes or anything, he didn't say a word. He waited for him to continue. "I want to... I want you to know who I really am."
Time seemed to stop and it was just the two of them, sitting side by side on a rooftop in New York. The sound of the busy street faded into nothingness and the buzzing of the neon lights dimmed. Just Deadpool and Spider-Man, sharing a moment, a life-changing moment, together. Wade realized that he was waiting for his response and finally remembered how to breathe.
"Are you sure, Webs?"
Again, there was hesitation, like Spider-Man wasn't sure whether he was ready to go through with this or not. Wade didn't blame him. The last time he tried to reveal his identity to him, Wade freaked out because he couldn't see a thing thanks to the writers believing he wasn't ready yet. Hell, he was afraid that he wasn't ready now.
"I trust you," Spider-Man finally responded, looking up now.
And then his hands were at the corners of his mask, pulling it up slowly like a strip tease which Wade would have found really hot if he weren't nervous as fuck. The mask went up and above that familiar chin, past those lips that he imagined pressing his own against time and time again, past that nose that he pictured scrunching up in thought every time they were in a tricky situation. And then he found himself staring into deep chocolate brown eyes that he knows he's seen somewhere else before. And then came that recognizable tuft of unkempt, brown locks. He knew that face. He's seen that face before. He's spoken to that face before.
"No fucking way," Wade knew he was gaping at him, but he couldn't help himself. "You sneaky little shit. You... you."
Peter Parker was sitting right across from him, clad in that uncanny red and blue suit, offering a sheepish smile as he held his mask in his hands. "Surprise?"
"I killed you! Twice!" he exclaimed, hands gripping his bald head as he tried to process this. "I called you a loser right in your perfect little face and you let me. Oh my god."
"I still forgive you for... all of that. We've been through a lot and I just hope you're not mad or disappointed that I'm... the dumbass who tanked a billion dollar company."
"First of all, everything suddenly makes so much sense now. Secondly, I'm not mad and I could never be disappointed in you of all people. Finally, you have every reason to hate me right now yet here you are, my bestest friend in the whole entire world, Spider-Man A.K.A. Peter fucking Parker," Wade took a deep breath. "God, I don't deserve you."
"You deserve a lot more than you think, Wade," Peter said light-heartedly.
"Yeah, a solid punch to the groin and a couple of other violent things."
"Wade."
"Peter."
The two looked at each other long and hard, both unmasked, both conflicted by their feelings. Peter brought his hand up, pressing gloved fingers against Wade's scarred cheek, tracing the uneven skin gently. "You deserve this, okay? I trust you and you mean a lot to me now. We're stronger together, right?" he gave him a smile and it was different than those pictures on billboards, newspaper articles, and on the Internet. It was different because it was so pure and so genuine. "Matrix said that being honest with each other strengthens our relationship and here I am, finally being honest with you after hiding who I was for god knows how long. And no, we are not going on another road trip, I don't want to do that again. Ever."
Wade decided to silence him before he could delve into a five minute rant about how he still had nightmares about the bug poop he touched back then by pressing their lips together, earning himself a surprised gasp. They sat there, kissing for what felt like an eternity (when really it was only about one or two minutes) and finally broke away when the need to breathe compelled them to. It was like the climax of a rom-com, except he was not Ryan Reynolds and Peter Parker was definitely sexier than Anna Faris.
"Not to sound like a jerk," Wade started suddenly and Peter raised a brow at him. "But I am so glad Mockingbird dumped you."
Peter snorted, which was the cutest and dorkiest sound Wade had ever had the pleasure of hearing, and bumped their heads together. "You are the worst."
Yeah, he kinda figured that.
YOU ARE READING
Stronger Together (A SpideyPool Fanfiction)
FanfictionWade finally deserves to know who Spider-Man really is, dammit. (Warning: strong language.)