Not A Chance

Chapter 22 - Unicorn Sprinkles

Peter obsessively stared at his phone like he'd been doing for the past thirty three minutes, waiting for a text from either Wade or Betty. Betty had yet to accept or reject his invitation and Wade told him he'd text him the location of Hernandez' hideout as soon as he could so they could meet there, he also hadn't received any of Wade's random texts since they last saw each other the night before. If he didn't know Wade was technically immortal he would assume he was dead.

Peter looked up at the whiteboard as the teacher started the introduction to elastomers but couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. He normally didn't have trouble paying attention but he had so much in his mind it was hard to focus. Betty, his work at the Bugle and the little money he'd been earning lately due to his lack of time to take pictures of his alter ego because he was too busy at Oscorp, rent, the thirty million essays due to next week, Hernandez, Alistair and the whole 'oh hell I might like dudes' situation. It was all too much, even for him.

He sighed and looked at the phone resting on his lap for the millionth time. He turned it on, no texts.

He crossed his arms over the table and rested his chin on them, ignoring the wild brown curl falling over his eye, which made him realize he was in desperate need of a haircut. Sadly to get one he needed two things he absolutely didn't have: time and money.

He toyed with the idea of cutting it himself for like five seconds before deciding that was definitely a bad, terrible, horrible, potentially dangerous idea.

He could have someone else cut it for him though.

Wade maybe?

Oh no. That was even worse. Besides he'd need to unmask which...was something he had also been considering doing- but not too seriously. He would do it, just not yet.

And not because he didn't trust Wade, he did. He really did, in his own bizarre way. Like he wouldn't trust him a butter knife but he'd trust him with his life, you know?

The reason he hadn't shown Wade his true identity was because the idea of it made him nervous as heck. Having to see the mercenary directly in the eye without a mask to protect him was terrifying. And not because he might be a little bit attracted to the man (maybe, maybe, he was still trying to figure that out).

He suddenly brought his fingers to the spot where his soulmark was and let them graze the fabric that covered the golden letters.

He hadn't shown him his face mostly because it would be nerve-racking to have to look your soulmate in the eye and tell them you've been lying to them all along.

Well...

Weeeeell technically it wasn't lying. He just wasn't telling him the whole truth, so it was more like hiding information rather than lying. However, if you have to say the word 'technically' before any phrase, it's usually not a good sign.

He sighed yet again, annoyed at his own thoughts, and buried his nose in the oversized sleeve of the red hoodie he had absolutely no intention of returning anytime soon and inhaled. It still kind of smelled like Wade. Okay maybe he'd give it back just so Deadpool can wear it and then borrow it for a second time once it smelled like him again. Because now it smelled like Wade combined with Peter's sweat, cheap cologne and ramen noodles, which wasn't a very flattering scent.

———

Peter was finally out of class (not like he was ever present to begin with, because his mind had definitely been somewhere else) and he still had at least four hours to send the pictures he'd taken to Jonah, so he thought he would treat himself to some coffee and send those photos while at the shop. Normally he wouldn't allow himself such luxuries but he had a few extra dollars and was getting paid later anyway, a coffee wouldn't do much of a difference in his already empty bank account. He'd probably starve for the rest of the day yeah but he wanted a Mocha Latte with wiped cream on top and he was getting it. Even if that meant that could be the last thing he had before he died of starvation, the world would know Peter Parker's last 'meal' was a Mocha Latte with chocolate syrup.