A Wild Tentacle Monster Appears!

Chapter 2

"Yeah, likewise," Peter spat, thoroughly irritated, his throat still raw from being violated by the monster.

He pushed himself off of Deadpool and stood up shakily, wincing at the pain in his ass.

"Um? Am I detecting sarcasm?" Deadpool grumbled. "I just saved your taut, well-formed behind."

"Took you long enough!" Peter spat back as he limped over to the now-broken amulet and shot it with a barrage of blasts from his web-shooter.

"God, I wish that were me," Deadpool murmured, watching longingly.

Peter shook his head, disgusted.

"Why would Happy send a psycho like you to help me? Why does he even know someone like you?"

"Ouch!" Deadpool whined, clutching an imaginary wound in his chest. "I'm a hero, just like you, Spidey! I happen to be an X-man."

"Wait, yeah, I think I have heard of you. Aren't you just a trainee?"

But Deadpool wasn't paying attention.

"Hey, do you think if I took this home and re-potted it I could grow a new one?" he said, brandishing one of the left over tentacles.

Peter walked over and snatched the tendril from Deadpool's hand without answering. He threw it onto a pile with the other severed monster limbs he'd been gathering from around the roof.

After a brief internal debate, he extended a hand to the larger man and helped pull him to his feet.

"You got anything to burn these with?" Peter asked once Deadpool was standing.

"What, like all of them?"

"Yes, Asspool. All of them," Peter replied, losing patience.

"Seems like kind of a waste...," Deadpool muttered under his breath before dousing the pile in lighter fluid and setting it ablaze with a match from his utility belt. The flesh made an off-putting sizzling sound as it burned and thick green smoke began billowing from the pile.

"Okay, well, thanks... I guess," Peter said dismissively before webbing the trusty trash can lid.

"Hold up. You're supposed to put it in here." Deadpool said tossing Peter a glowing metallic cube that just screamed Stark technology.

"The button on top," Deadpool supplied helpfully as Peter inspected the cube.

"Right, thanks."

Peter pressed the button and tossed the box at the necklace. The apparatus glowed electric blue and a scanner beam emitted from it. The light of the beam swept over the amulet. Then the necklace disappeared, presumably it had re-materialized inside of the cube. The box then rose quickly into the air and zoomed off in the direction of the Avengers facility upstate.

"Nice," Peter said, breathing a sigh of relief as he grabbed his backpack.

"Uh, Spidey, wait," Deadpool shouted after Peter, not at all ready to say goodnight.

Peter, who had been sprinting to the roof's edge, skidded to a halt.

"What is it, Deadpool?" he rasped.

"You're just gonna go? I thought maybe we could hang out or something? I can help treat your injuries," he offered hopefully, "I've been rage-fucked by a ton of monsters, like a literal metric ton of monster dicks have been up in this," he gestured suggestively at his body. "Usually it's consensual but aftercare is still a must so I have lots of experience..."

Peter began to tune out Deadpool's rambling for the sake of his own sanity, but the fact that he couldn't exactly go home to Aunt May in his current condition was dawning on him. She worried constantly about his safety as it was. If she found out a demon rape-beast had made Peter its bitch, he could kiss hero work goodbye.

"... and usually I'm really good in that position, but I'd had my arm severed earlier that day so my equilibrium was just off, but-"

"Deadpool," Peter cut him off abruptly, desperate to shut him up, "Where do you live?"—

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"This is the place," Deadpool said grandly as they landed on the fire-escape of his apartment. "Now to check items 4 and 87 off of my bucket list."

"What are items 4 and 87," Peter ask as he waited for Deadpool to open the window.

"Well, item 87 is to get another hero to give me a piggyback. And four is, uh... we probably aren't there yet. I'll tell you some other time," he said climbing into the loft.

Peter followed after him, regretting he'd asked.

Deadpool's apartment was far more normal that Peter had imagined. It was a cleaner than average bachelor pad, a little cluttered, but homey. Peter had expected a space that more closely reflected Deadpool's chaotic personality.

"Mi castle es su castle," Deadpool said gesturing around the space with pride. "Make yourself at home."

Peter took a seat on the couch as Deadpool began unloading his gear. Carefully, the larger man began cleaning and polishing his katana. Sensing that this ritual was somehow a little bit sacred, Peter decided to give him some privacy. He looked away and took the opportunity to text his Aunt May to say he was studying with Ned and would be home late most likely and possibly not at all. Then, he texted Ned so his friend would be able to corroborate the story. When he was done, he heard the thud of the utility belt hitting the floor and figured Deadpool was finished too.

"What the- Mr. Pool are you okay?!" Peter shouted in alarm as he looked over at his host.

Without Peter noticing, Deadpool had removed his mask. The skin underneath it was covered in scars, worse than anything Peter had ever seen.

"What, this?" Deadpool asked nonchalantly. "It's just a little cancer, no big deal. The name's Wade Wilson by the way. Mr. Pool was my father.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson. I was just surprised," Peter said quietly, embarrassed at his reaction.

"Wade," the larger man corrected. "And seriously, Spidey, it's nothing to worry about. I have super healing. I mean, so does the cancer, but that's life," Deadpool digressed as he began pulling off his boots.

"I'm Peter Parker," Peter offered, remembering his manners.

"Huh, I don't know why but I've been calling you 'Tom' in my head this whole time," he mused as he walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

"Want one?" he asked holding the bottle out to Peter.

"Oh, uh, no thanks," Peter said nervously, not wanting to let on that he was underage. "

Deadpool smacked his forehead, "Duh-doy, Wade. The man just got his throat scrubbed by a magic dick vine. He needs hot tea,"

This cavalier description of his ordeal made Peter feel much less sorry about his insensitive reaction to Deadpool's deformity.

"Hey, Petey, bathroom's up the stairs. If you wanna take a shower I can have the tea ready by the time you get out," Wade called from the kitchen.

A shower sounded ideal.

"Thanks, Mr, Wils- uh, Wade. I think I will," Peter said gratefully, grabbing his backpack as he heaved himself up from the couch.

He held the bag behind him awkwardly, trying to obscure the gaping hole in the ass of his suit as he ascended the stairs. Wade made a show of being busy with boiling the water but watched him climb from the corner of his eye.

Once Peter was out of sight he abandoned the kettle and began bouncing around with all of the nervous energy he'd been desperately trying to suppress.

"Okay, be cool Wade. Be cool. Calm the fuck down," he coached himself anxiously. "Spider-man is in your apartment but it's no big deal. He's literally naked in the place where you sleep. Totally chill. It's just your new pal Pete, gettin' cleaned up."

Wade clutched his chest and leaned against the kitchen island for support. He snatched his beer from the counter and downed the rest of it in one go. With his nerves slightly calmed he took a deep breath. So what if his number one hero crush was soaping his balls right above Wade at that very moment? It was seriously no reason to panic.