Little Do You Know-Spideypool

Chapter One

*Hello all this is the author speaking, this story was not beta'd lol so pls point out any mistakes or inconsistencies*

Peter POV
I remember when I met Deadpool for the first time. I'd heard about him from my dads, of course, but never met him personally until I became Spider-Man. On one of my first nights out, I can cross this bar. It seemed targeted towards a... specific audience, and I generally would have avoided it, if I didn't hear screams coming from inside. I slipped in silently and saw him, on the floor with his mask off and a gun to his head.
"Pointless Weasel!" The man in red coughed. "You can't get rid of me."
"I'm sure as hell gonna try anyway." The barkeep-Weasel?-snarled, and cocked the gun.
"Ahem." I cleared my throat and the room silenced. I had grown accustomed to having eyes on me, being that I swing around on spider webs wearing bright red and blue spandex, but I still get uncomfortable under a villains eyes.
"What did he do?" I ask, and Weasle laughs.
"What didn't he do? The son of a bitch just killed half my customers on their way out."
"Why did you do that?" I turn
my gaze on the man in red leather.
"They called me a pillow princess." He admitted. "Which, normally I don't care about being called a girl's name, but it's such a lie! I always pleasure my partner!"
"I don't care about your sex life." I was blushing under my mask. "You don't kill people because they say something you don't like." I rotate to face the bartender again. "He can't die, right?" The man shook his head with a menacing smile.
"Then I see no reason to shoot him. He'll just do something stupider tomorrow."
"Stupider isn't a word." Deadpool sang at me, and I knocked the back of his head just hard enough to make him wince.
"I can't just let him run off! He destroyed good business." Weasel jabbed a finger at my chest. "If you aren't gonna let me deal with him my way, then you have to deal with him your way."
"Sorry, sir, but unless you want me to turn him in to the police-"
"Hell no!" Deadpool shouted. "I got work to do, places to be, people to kill!"
I look to the owner of this stupid bar for confirmation, and he just shakes his head.
"Can't do that." He says. "Pool is one of my best mercs. Can't do that, no..."
We stand awkwardly as the room slips back into its normal routine, all but ignoring my presence.
I sigh, massaging my temples. "How about I escort him home."
Deadpool perks up considerably. "You? Spider-Man? Escort me? I-I'm honored! How do you want to start? I've been told I give an excellent blow-job, but..."
"I meant-" right then I was glad for the mask hiding my tomato face. "I meant that I will walk you home and make sure you don't get into any more trouble. Does that sound good to you?"
Weasel shrugs. "I suppose that'll do. Yeah, that'll do ok."
"Alright then." I offered the unicorn a hand up, and he accepted, pulling me into a hug which I wiggled out of as fast as I could. "No hugs, please." I grumbled as we left the bar.
"Can I at least buy you dinner?" He offered.
"I ate." I lied.
"Sure you did spidey. Come on, I want tacos."
So we went for tacos. He told me his name was Wade Wilson, and he was my biggest fan. I told him I was Spider-Man. We actually had a lot in common, despite our obvious differences, and despite myself I found that I actually enjoyed that first evening with him. The next night he showed up while I was on patrol and helped me with a particularly nasty drunk celebrating public indecency.
Every night that week, he came with me on my save-the-city escapades, taking care of the heavy lifting for me, while I stopped him from "unaliving" people.
"We're a perfect team, Webs." He told me once. "I wish we could be more than that."
If only he knew how much more we really were.

*Time skip for the benefit of the lazy-ass writer**It is now 2 months after SpiderGay met PoolPlayer*
Wades POV

"Honey, I'm home!" I shout to my empty apartment. I stripp carelessly out of the red and black leather and slip into the comfort of my shower, steam filling the air and fogging my mirror. 
When I get out, I pull polka dot boxers on, and nothing else, purely for the comfort of the monster cuts along my face and back. I check my fridge, and since yogurt does NOT count as a meal in my kitchen, I pull on my hoodie, wincing as blood starts to soak through the back.
There's a shop around the corner, and I would usually waltz in like it's my home court, but today I'm too tired, and too sore. I tiptoe in silently, grabbing meat, bread, and cheese.
On my way out, I walked straight into some dudes back.
"Hey, watch i-Deadpool?" A teenage boy spins around, his face going from frustration to surprise.
"In the unfortunate flesh." I mutter.
"I didn't realize it was so bad!" He pulls my hood down, much stronger then he looks, and gently examines the cuts on my face.
"What do you mean, how'd you know I was hurt?" I pull him outside the store quickly to get us out of the way.
"I work for the Buggle." He says, almost too quickly. "I was assigned a story on the attack."
"Oh!" I recognize him, a little. "You're Spidey's photographer, yes?"
"Yeah, that's me." He offers a hand to shake, and I take it. "Peter Parker." His eyes never leave my face, and I would be self conscious, but I know somehow that he's looking at my wounds and not my scars.
"Wade Wilson."
"Nice to finally meet you." He smiles warmly and my heart flutters. How cute is he? His dark brown hair is messy around his eyes, and he has pale skin with bright freckles. His tee is tight, showing off his skinny build, lined with muscles. Long arms and legs, long fingers, with black painted nails.
So cute.
"You don't seem bothered by my scars." I offer, just to make sure.
"Spidey warned me." He says smoothly. "What bothers me is how dirty all those cuts are. I'm guessing there's more I can't see?"
"Uh-"
"Do you live nearby?"
"Yes, but-"
"Well, lead the way."
"Um, I don't really-"
"Shut up and walk, Wade." He orders. I turn on my heel and head towards my building, hearing his lifts(LOL) clicking as he jogs to keep up with me.
Upon our arrival at my apartment, he asks where the bathroom is.
"Down the hall to the left." I say, and he grabs my hand, practically dragging me along.
"You really don't have to-"
"Yes I do. I know you can afford a maid, why is your flat so damn messy?"
"I'm not in much so I don't have time to clean." It's a stupid excuse, and I can tell I don't fool him.
"Sure, mister sleep-all-day, screw-all-night."
I have to laugh at that one as he closes my toilet and sits me down on it.
"Sweatshirt off."
"No." I say automatically, and he turns slowly from the first aid kit he has discovered in my cabinet.
"Sweatshirt." He says, slowing it down. "Off. Now."
I move to pull it off quickly, but he hisses. "Carefully!"
"Yes daddy." I mumble, glancing up to see him blush slightly across the bridge of his nose.
Ok...
Once I've removed enough clothing to satisfy him, he takes tweezers and cloth and cleans me up almost painlessly, removing bits of glass and metal and wood brimming my back and face. He then packs the drag down my left shoulder and wraps bandages and gauze around me, making me look a little like a mummy, or a pirate or something.
"With your healing factor, you should be better by Tuesday." He tells me.
"Thank you." I say. For once, I mean it.
"Anyone would have done the same." He rolls his eyes, flushing a bit.
"No, not for me." He meets my eyes, his golden brown ones shining back in my green. "Can I do something to repay you? Do you need money? I have an abundance of it." He smiles, but says no.
"I don't need money, thanks." He glances at his watch. "I should go."
"Oh." For some reason I don't want him to leave. "Well, can I take you to dinner tomorrow?"
"Like, a date?" Peter cocks an eyebrow at me, and I feel like I've crossed a line.
"Uh-only if you want it to be! I don't want to, like, make you uncomfortable or anything...like...that..." I notice that he's giggling while I ramble, pressing the back of his skinny hand to his lips to muffle the sound. "Ha ha." I grimace. Of course I'm making a fool of myself right now.
"I'd love to go on a date with you." He informs me, sensing my nervousness. "Meet you at Yummo tomorrow at 8?"
That's when I usually meet Spidey, but...
"8 o'clock." I nod with a huge smile. "Can't wait."
"Well, you have to." Be jokes as I walk him to the door. "We can't all be Kang the Conqueror."
"I guess not." I laugh, surprised he's heard of him."
"Well, goodnight, Wade." Peter says, after stepping out the door.
"'Night Peter."
I close the door as he gives one final wave.
What happened to your Spidey dates?
They aren't dates, I'm just helping him with crime fighting stuff...
You mean you're giving up Spidey for some kid you met today?
You don't even know if he's 18!
Of course he's 18, he was wearing a university student ID on his belt.
Why were you looking at his belt?
I didn't realize you were this pathetic. A hookup, sure, but a date?
You must be out of your mind. He's gonna be so scared of you if he ever sees you work.
No he won't.
Yes he will.
And angry too.
I can't wait to watch!
"Shut up shut up shut up!"

Peter POV
Spider-Man can't date Deadpool. That would be impossible, especially since we're both such public figures. But maybe Peter and Wade have a chance?