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Peter is now used to Wade speaking to voices only he can hear, and long nights that Wade doesn’t even bother trying to go to sleep. He is proud that Wade frequents his time with lady Death even less so lately, and hardly ever by his own hand. Peter lovingly moisturizes Wade’s skin with a formula he created to help irritation on the worst of days, rubbing down the ex-merc until he is a puddle of relaxed goo on their bed. There’s just one thing that’s hard for Peter to understand.

Wade sometimes brings up situations that confuse Peter. He speaks them as fact, like a true reality that should be common knowledge. Like how they’ve both been in multiple movies (Peter is still waiting for a royalty check if so), and how his favorite Spider-Man was played by some guy named Andrew. Peter is Peter. Who is this Andrew? Someone with pretty doe eyes evidently, though they “don’t even come close to yours though, baby boy. Don’t worry.”

There’s multiple moments like this such as this current one— they’re both an entanglement of limbs on their frumpy but comfortable as hell couch, Peter’s head currently in the crook of Wade’s arm as he leans against him. Peter’s currently cueing up for another match of Overwatch, and Wade glances up from where he was absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

“You know, we’re in a game not too different from this one.”

Peter glances sideways at Wade, though at this angle he mostly just sees a very strong jawline.

“Oh?” Peter humors, eyes going back to the screen as the match starts.

“Yup! Us and a bunch of other supers. You’re cute as hell in it too, though that’s not a surprise. Though they made us seem like we hardly know each other and that’s just cruel!” Wade whines, head flopping to the side until his cheek rests on fluffy brown locks.

“But I do look cool as hell too. They didn’t skimp out on the muscles, rightfully so. The funny thing is though the guy who voices my character is a vtuber of all things. And fun fact, the person writing this right now is also a vtuber. A vtuber that also writes fanfiction? You know what, live your truth queen.”

Peter can’t turn to look at Wade as they are now, but if he could he’d definitely shoot the guy a look. Because… what?

“You do know what a vtuber is, right?” Wade asks after Peter’s confused silence.

“I’m… partially aware but that’s not what I’m confused about.” Peter replies, trying to follow along despite being in the middle of a match. But being thrown that supposedly they’re in a video game together, Deadpool is inadvertently a vtuber and that they are currently being written in a story is very hard to digest. Peter very much doesn’t certainly feel like he’s just words in a document right now.

If this was a few years ago Peter would have brushed Wade off by now, no doubt rudely as ashamed as he is to admit it. Now though he knows Wade, loves him deeply, and he knows that Wade doesn’t just say things. Well he does, but he’s also way more intelligent than he lets on. Peter is aware of things such as multiverses, alternate realities that whatever Wade is talking about could very well be true.

But Peter does think it’s important for Wade to stay grounded to their reality. He knows Wade’s memory can get a little fuzzy some days, so mixing all these realities in his head can’t be healthy for that. So after Peter wraps up his match he tosses his controller to the other end of the couch, untangling himself just enough to turn and slip into Wade’s lap in a straddle, hands coming to cup each side of a scarred neck.

“That game sounds pretty inaccurate, it clearly doesn’t understand our chemistry.” Peter feels giddy as he always does when Wade looks at him with such reverence, large scarred hands grasping his hips to keep him in place.

“Well, can’t win matches if our team-up was just making out in a hidden corner.” Wade’s voice is gravely like always, but deeper with budding arousal, smirk tugging at his lip as he tilts his chin up towards Peter. Said man rolls his eyes in response with his own answering grin, knowing they are more than capable of focusing on hero work together if need be. Peter still humors the man though, leaning down to seal their lips together.

Peter may not understand every aspect of Wade, but he’ll always try.

Wade looks up from where he's sitting on the side of the rooftop, blowing out his last puff of smoke as Peter comes over to perch his classic way beside him, fully suited. He gives his cigarette a small flick, ashes falling over the side of the building.

"Ha, good one." Wade smirks, mask pulling up halfway so he could smoke. Peter rolls up his own mask halfway, revealing his own smirk. His eyes are still covered but Wade can tell the smaller hero is looking at the cigarette in his hand, watching how smoke lazily trails from the lit end.

"I didn't know you smoke." Peter shifts to sit on his behind beside Wade, both their legs now dangling over the edge. Their thighs brush.

"I don't often, but every once in a while I will. Not like I have anything to worry about. And it's hot, or at least girls on booktok say so." He takes another drag as Peter snorts, licking his lips as he exhales the cloud away from Peter. He's thoughtful like that.

A beat passes, then Peter shifts reaching out for the cigarette. Wade makes a sound in the back of his throat, holding his hand away from the hero.

"Woah there, Webs. Having cancer is kinda my thing, can't let you steal my style. You already took inspo from my suit."

Peter rolls his eyes, whole head moving with it to convey the emotion through his mask. His hand pulls away however, and Wade believes he dropped it.

Wade looks back to the skyline, taking another long drag of his cigarette. Before he can exhale however, a gloved hand is on his chin, turning his head back towards the hero. Lips seal over his own, and Wade feels exasperation and fondness in his chest for the sneaky spider. Heat and want also bloom low in his belly, and he's powerless to pull away, exhaling the smoke into Peter's mouth, the smaller male inhaling it. Peter pulls away slightly, their faces still close as he smirks triumphantly at the merc, blowing out the smoke in his face. Wade almost whimpers. Almost. (He totally did.)

"Didn't think I'd ever say this, but I understand the booktok girlies now."

Perhaps it’s after a long night of patrol and to end off the night they stop by a bodega to grab way too many snacks to feed their high metabolisms. As Peter gets their sandwich orders to top it all off, Wade catches sight of an old looking capsule machine, and excitedly digs through his many pouches for a spare quarter. Victorious he inserts it, spins the knob, and claims his prize. He opens up the opaque capsule and inside is one of those cheap spider rings. He huffs fondly, picking it out and tossing the empty capsule away. He looks at it for a long moment, gently pressing the flimsy spindly legs to bend them back and forth. Peter calls out to him, arms laden with food by the entrance. Wade shoves the ring into a pouch and hurries to join his lover.

They chow down on one of their favorite roofs, taking in the many neon lights, the many various sounds of the city that never sleeps. They’re both worn from the day so their tones are softer as they talk and eat, and Wade feels his eyes spending more and more time on Peter’s half covered face. His eyes train on the quirk of Peter’s lips, the little dimple that pops up on the right side, the freckle on his chin. The lights reflect off of Peter in a way that is catching Wade’s breath, the lenses of Spider-Man’s mask reflecting the city right back.

Wade isn’t thinking clearly when he reaches into his pouch to pull out the ring from earlier, wordlessly holding it out to Peter. Peter looks at it with a smirk, mouth opening most likely to quip in return. But he looks up and meets Wade’s gaze, and while they only have their masks pulled up to over their nose Peter sees the firm set to Wade’s jaw, the nervous waver to his lips. They’ve always been scarily good at reading each other, especially after their relationship turned romantic, and Peter’s eyes widen. Lips go slack.