My (Ex-Mercenary) Valentine || Spideypool

𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

"I can go pick up some tacos and we can meet back at your place," Spidey says later once they defeat the idiot with a bounty on his head that Deadpool has been trying to not unalive. It's almost 6am and the sun is just starting to rise.

"Or we can just go to my place and talk," Deadpool says instead. "And I can make you breakfast. I cook a damn good pancake."

"Yeah," agrees Spidey, nodding his head. "Yeah, okay. Hop on."

Neither of them take the time to think about how this is normal now, being together all the time. Being attached at the hip. Deadpool grips onto Spiderman, wrapping his arms around the webslinger's neck and his legs around his waist as the younger man takes a running start and swings them in the direction of Wade's apartment.

When the window is shut and the black-out curtains are closed behind them, their masks come off.

"Sorry about all of this," Wade says motioning towards his face. "It's everwhere though, the scarring. Thought it be beat to get that part out in the open."

"I already knew that. I've seen your skin before, remember?"

"I tried to repress it, actually."

"It doesn't bother me. It's just that—" Peter reached an ungloved hand up before freezing in place just inches from Wade's cheek. "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," Wade says, but he leans forward so that Peter's fingers are fluttering across his cheek anyway. Peter's thumb is tracing the outline of Wade's scarred face, until they're millimeters away from each other.

"Can I...Wade," asks Peter, his eyes going up to search his. "Can I kiss you?"

"As many times as you want."

When their lips meet, there aren't fireworks or shocks, its calm. Like finally being where they're meant to be. The voices are silent and there's a buzzing under their skin that says Welcome Home.

They pull apart for air and then they're staring into each other's eyes again. Peter has just now noticed that Wade's are two different colors. One is blue and the other is dark brown and he knows that he could get lost staring at the man he loves. Staring at the man who loves him.

"Say it again," Peter whispers when they're only a breath apart.

"I love you." There's a soft dopey smirk on Wade's face as he says it.

"Oh, god," Peter almost sobs. "I love you too, Red. Now, I think you promised to cherish the fuck out of me. When is that going to happen?"

"As soon as physically possible, but probably after my legs stop being jelly. You said you loved me too and holy Shakespeare if that doesn't go straight to my lower half faster than donuts when I'm on a diet, I don't know what does."

"Well I can handle that," says Peter, kissing Wade's forehead and lifting Wade in a bridal carry. "Point me in the direction of the bedroom, okay, Mr. Wilson?"

"If I could love you any more I would combust," Wade whispered reverently, but he leads them to the bedroom all the same. After the week he's had, he thinks they've both earned it.