Peter

Parker luck normally smacked him in the face, he could see it come from a mile away and it would even alert his spider-sense, Danger Danger You Are FUCKED. This time was different, hunched over his computer crammed in the back of a local cafe he didn't even see it coming, either of them.

Peter went out of his way to avoid his ex's, most of them knowing both identities meant they could keep tabs on him all they wanted but he did everything in his power to stay away from them. He was bitter and lonely and it was just easier to pretend they were too. They probably weren't, but a boy could dream anyway.

Of course that was really hard to do when the tell tale flash and shutter of camera lenses caught his attention. Just out the nearest window he could see a crowd of people pushing together, cameras of all make and models held high. In the middle of it all Peter caught a glimpse of her and then him. Bright red hair spilling in ringlets over her shoulders and swept over the perfectly tanned toned arm draped around her back, the man stood a head taller than MJ laughing boisterous at something.

All bad things happen in three: MJ was standing outside the coffee shop they used to come to together, Johnny Storm was practically drooling over her while his normal crowd of paparazzi drooled over him, and they were coming inside (to make Peter's personal hell a reality).

Ducking his head down he closed his computer, hastily collecting his things from the hole he'd built for himself over the past three hours of being haul up at this table. Maybe they won't see him, the swarm of cameras stayed outside which sucked cause they would have given him excellent cover, but he still had a chance if he went while they were in line and ordering. Hopefully they'll be too preoccupied to see him. His chances weren't very high, the line the pair stood in was very close to the only exit door. They stood close to the back(closest to the door) ignoring the whispers and stares from the people around them.

Even if people only recognized Mary Jane without really knowing who she was, everyone knows who Johnny Storm is. The literal hot head of Fantastic 4 has been in the public eye with the hottest person on his arm for years. Which, even though Johnny never outright said it, is precisely why he broke up with Peter after he revealed who he was under the Spiderman mask. Peter doesn't have a face for tv like Johnny does, he couldn't compare next to the sun kissed blond day dream, but MJ does. She perfectly matches Johnny's shinny personality, rivaling his boyish charm with her glowing beauty.

Mentally hoping some robber or someone would pop out of the wood works and shoot him, Peter did his very best to slink past the two unnoticed.

"Is that you Peter?" Not good enough as it happens. Parker luck is still stronger than him. MJ was squinting at him, when he caved and looked back at her it turned into a grin. "Come here I wanna introduce you to someone!" Yippee.

She was already pulling him by his jacket sleeve before he could come up with a weak protest. "Johnny, this is Peter, I've told you about him before. Peter, this is Johnny, my boyfriend."

Seriously, anyone, open season on one Peter Parker, right here. Maybe he should use his red pen to draw a bullseye on his forehead.

Johnny cackled, absolutely giddy, apparently she's talked about him but Johnny has not. Greaaaat. He stuck his hand out for a stiff hand shake Peter was incredibly resistant to reciprocate. "I'm sure he's heard of me."

"Yeah," Peter squawked, pulling his hand back quickly. Johnny normally ran hot but Peter knew he spiked the temperature of his hand for dramatic effect. He also knew how sensitive Peter's hands and wrist are.

Holding Out for a Hero blast from his back pocket. Utterly fumbling over himself he silenced Deadpool's ringtone, finding a text from the same man that read.

 - DP

Thai?

Chinese?

Ohhhhh scratch that both 100% feasting out tonight

Unless u want somethin less

Sup open to suggestions bb

We could just skip din din

straight(read uper gay with rainbow sparkles) to dessert ;p

Johnny's smile twitched hiding a sneer behind his perfected Tv grin, he recognized the ringtone. Post breakup DP had called him while he was picking up one of his back up suits from Johnny's flat. Let's just say the Flame head and the Merc did not get along very well. Honestly Deadpool didn't get along with a lot of people.

MJ didn't seem to notice the short interaction, "We should really get lunch some time, catch up sense it's been so long Ok? Johnny would you want to come?"

"Yeah Babe I'd love to. I'd love to know more about your famous ex husband Peter Parker."

"Sure, right, well I gotta go so." Peter mumbled painfully aware of how old this excuse was with MJ, he stared at the ground to avoid seeing the thinly veiled disappointed look she always wore when he used it.

"Right, I wouldn't wanna keep you from your responsibilities."

Ouch.

He'd be licking that particular wound for a while.

~

Spiderman

He did want to patrol. He really did. A good swing though the city always did wonders to help clear his head; but with the threat of the running into the flying flame ball out there or worse him looking for Peter was enough to halt all spider related activities for the night. He couldn't drag himself out of bed, he didn't want to face him or the city right now.

Sadly that also meant he wouldn't be seeing Deadpool today either. Surprisingly Peter was actually bummed he wouldn't be hanging out with the self proclaimed comic, he couldn't remember when he started relying on the man to better a shitty day but he had. Without him the night was incredibly dull and quiet.

Which is why he caved and messaged the man without putting any thought in it first.

 - Spiderman

Hey I don't think I'm going to make it too patrol tonight.

Sorry Pool.

 - DP

WHHAAAAA

crying ugly tears bb

I cant believe youve done this

Peter wasn't sure what he was expecting when he texted Deadpool. What a 'ok cool see ya next time'? Only if Pool got his phone stolen by Weasel or Domino, though he was sure even those two would say something more along the lines of 'Please take him off our hands please'. He told himself the text was just to give Pool a heads up so he didn't crash land on some roof with enough food to feed 15 teenage linebackers.

No one had to know he'd done it hoping to get to talk to Pool today, even if it was over the phone for a few minutes.

 - Spiderman

I had a rough day, I just don't feel like going out

It has nothing to do with you. Chill.

 - DP

Rough? (kinky!) Not the fun way im guessing

Call me

 - Spiderman

No.

 - DP

BB don't you trust me?

What if I offered you a lucrative deal including

Thai Chinese and a movie marathon of your choose

Tempting. Oh so extremely tempting.

Peter glanced up from his phone, around the tiny bedroom of his one bedroom apartment, clustered with work projects, dirty clothes, and shoes. Shrewd in darkness cause he frankly couldn't afford the electricity bill.

He didn't have to move from his faceplant in bed to know what state the rest of the apartment was in. His living room is a similar state of disarray and his kitchen fruitfully empty. He might not be as flat broke anymore but he still doesn't have the time to go to Trader Joe's.

It's a whole event ok? He's a busy overworked bee.

Deadpool picked up on the second ring. "Why did I have to call you? Is there more to your plan?"

"In fact there is so don't sassy the game master."

Peter rolled over with a groan to his back, "Ok so. What?"

"O K so! Suit up, only cause the whole secret identity thing. Then I want you to pick a star bucks near you- But don't go inside! We boycott the shit out of those fuckers (boycott fatigue isn't a really thing. Lazy fuckers can get their vanilla oat lattes and caramel macchiato's else where!) Just cause there's four of those corporate shit holes on every block doesn't mean they're coffee is good. In fact it's actual crap."

"Pool. The track, can we get back on it?" Peter hummed, normally more than happy to listen to Deadpool's rants but his stomach was growling in full now with the promise of dinner.

"Right right, anyways. You shouldn't have to swing here. A true gentleman picks up his dates. I'll have to send Dopinder to get cha while I pick up dinner but same thing. Starbucks because that way your lair is still top secret."

Peter put his phone on speaker mode, dragging himself up to get dressed while listening to Deadpool like a podcast.

"Dopinder will drop you off at my place. Windows' always unlocked for ya, you know the one, let yourself in even if I'm not back yet. I'll lay out some of my cleanest sweats for you, and when I say cleanest I mean I washed them today AND am washing them a second time just for you cause only the best for my Babyboy, to throw on over the suit if you wanna get comfy. We shallst then feast on the aforementioned food and you can use any of my many streaming services to find us movies to watch for the rest of the night. It will be my personal mission to turn that frown I can literally hear upside down and ensure you forget all about your rough day, no matter how kinky it should have been."

Peter had to have grown soft on the merc, because no matter how ridiculous some of his plan was it nevertheless made him feel lighter, get dressed quicker.

Deadpool stayed on the phone with him till Peter was in the backseat of Dopinder's cab, listing off each menu item he was looking at for Peter's approval. He only ended the call when he got to the front of the line to order. Leaving Peter to fend for himself in conversation with an over excited Dopinder. On the bright side he was able to take that time to remind the man that murder was extremely unethical and not the best way to get back his girl. Adding a soft reminder that even DP has stopped killing and he should really just talk to her about his feelings.

Two high fives later and Peter was scaling the wall to an all too familiar windowsill. The apartment inside was brightly lit, but silent and empty. He'd beat Deadpool home, but true to his word the window was unlocked. Letting himself in Peter found the promised pjs flattened out over the back of the couch.

Even with the apartment empty he moved to the bathroom before changing. He could have, like Pool said just put it on over the suit, but that would defeating the purpose of the soft pjs; and, seeing as part of the reason he didn't want to patrol in the first place was because he didn't want to spending the majority of his night in the confines of skin tight spandex, he stripped out of it.

The one piece he'd keep on was the mask of course but he did pause, looking down on his bare hands and feet. Pool knows what the bottom half of his face looks like but he hasn't actually seen anything less yet. It took a dramatically intense moment for Peter to convince himself it's fine he doesn't have any identifying marks on his hands or feet and Pool already knows he's a white guy so it really is fine.

The apartment was still empty when he built up the courage to fold his suit into a neat pile and carry it out of the bathroom, he dropped it next to the couch and sat nervously on its edge to just wait.

Deadpool had fantastic timing, it was barely minutes later when the door dust inwards, "Honey I'm hommmmeee!" He sang, even from under the mask Peter could see the man smiling like a lone. Two comically large plastic bags hanging from each arm. It smelled amazing.

"You kept me waiting." Peter pouted, mostly pretending because he couldn't help messing with DP.

Deadpool faltered, physically stumbled mid stride into the living room to stare wide eyed at Peter. "Webs. I've made a grave miscalculation." Still staring, Peter bristled under the look suddenly regretting every decision he's made leading up to this moment. Deadpool bulldozed through all those feelings and thoughts, "How am I supposed to be a good guy nowwwww?" He lamented, sending Peter half to his feet.

"Wha-"

"Look at you! I'm supposed to let you leave ever again when you look this precious in my clothes! I totally get the whole "locked away in a tower" thing now! Deadpool does not share, I could just tie you up and Keep You. Your toes are out OMG and your hands!" While Peter's head was still reeling, Pool lurched forwards, catching Peter's outstretched worried hands in the air to stare at his knuckles. "Holy moly Batman, it's like someone sculpted these based on those BL smut manga's. How did I not know this is what they looked like under that spandex!" He pressed masked lips to the insides of Peter's palms in theatrical kisses.

Remember the whole, sensitive hands thing? Yeah, still very much a thing. The mutation that made him sticky also heightened his sense of touch (along with all his other senses) which meant the palm of his hands and the pads of his fingers were extraordinarily responsive.

"I wonder what it feels like." Deadpool breathed into his hand, entirely to himself not to Peter, who was overwhelmed solely by what it felt like.

"Deadpool," Peter wheezed doing his best to put them back in the familiar grounds of normal. "Come on dude I'm starving, you can hold my hand later if you want." He'd tacked on that last part that was definitely supposed to stay an inside thought.

Pool positively lit up, "You serious?!"

"Only if you give me that food right now."

"Yes sir!!"

Later, two movies in their early 2000's "jaded reporter meets a guy for a story and falls in love" rom com marathon (of which there is a surprising amount). Peter was curled up in a small comfortable ball in the center of Deadpool's couch, food long finished but his mask still half up. He was practically leaning on Pool's shoulder because the man had one of his hands captured in a loose hold on his thigh. Absentmindedly rubbing little circles, that were quietly turning Peter into jelly, on the back of his hand with his thumb.

"It's Wade by the way." Pool voiced into the lull of shouting as the two love interests fought in the streets. "I know you probably know that by now but, just sayin, you can and should use it."

Peter looked up at the red mask, also rolled up. Pool had changed into comfier clothes, a black hoodie and gray sweats with pink fuzzy socks. "I didn't." Peter had been tempted to read up on Pool when they met but he stopped himself. It didn't feel fair seeing as DP couldn't do the same thing with Peter and after Stark expressly told him too it strengthened his resolve, as another way to say 'fuck you' to the billionaire. Once they'd become friends he figured Pool would tell him in his own time, just like he might tell Pool- no Wade some day. Today wasn't that day, "Ok, Wade." Still for now he could roll the name over his tongue to taste it, wondering how it'd sound when Wade said his name for the first time.

Things really did happen in threes, maybe not just bad things, after all here he was with food, movies, and Wade.

___________________________________

Hi me again, here to tell you once again that I know almost nothing about the characters (outside of Peter and Wade) I'm writing. What little I know about Johnny Storm comes from the Fantastic 4 movies I watched as a kid and mentions of him in other fics so this could be so off, I don't know. He and Tony are just causalities in the slaughter. Ok.