I Dabble In Web Design

▤ = falling asleep on them

He couldn’t be sure of how long he had been staring, butPeter couldn’t bring himself to look away. Not when Harry was leaning entirelyagainst his side, head nearly tucked into the crook of Peter’s neck. Hisexpression was relaxed in a way Peter hadn’t seen in awhile, his chest risingand falling steadily. The moment felt too fragile, so really, he wasn’t allowedto look away. If the bags under his eyes were anything to go by, Harry wasn’tsleeping half as much as he should. Not that Peter wasn’t an astoundinghypocrite for thinking that, but Harry didn’t deserve that kind ofrestlessness. If it took Peter sacrificing himself as a pillow to get him somesleep, then he would happily stay still.

Carefully, he draped an arm loosely around his friend, smiling a little lopsidedly when Harry stirred but didn’t wake. With his freehand, he reached for the Xbox controller on the other cushion and picked up the level where theyhad left off. 

✿ = buying them flowers

“Uh—” Peter stared, eyebrows arching impossibly high on his forehead, at the flowers being thrust in his direction. It honestly shouldn’t have surprised him; after every other unexpected turn Wade took, this wasn’t exactly a far reach. Even so, the gesture was strangely nicer than it could have been ( honestly, he was counting his lucky stars that the mercenary hadn’t pointed a gun at him, instead ) and Peter was admittedly hung up on that. Wait—okay, no. To catch him off guard was probably Deadpool’s goal, with the godforsaken flowers of all things, and that was enough to snap him back to the moment. He cleared his throat and gave his best attempt at looking unamused, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes with purpose. “Right…yeah. Just so that you’re aware; you are absolutely the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”

✏ = teaching them a different language

It wasn’t meant to be a lesson—really, it wasn’t. But when a civilian had shouted something in Spanish ( at least, Peter was upwards of eighty percent certain that it was Spanish ), Wade had shouted something back. And before he could do the logical thing and bite his tongue, Peter had asked after the meaning, and regretted it an instant later. Well, he wished that he had regretted it, but it was difficult not to give his full attention to Wade’s blur of words and excited gestures. In most cases, he could try to roll his eyes and move on, but this was monumentally different. There was almost a sort of contrast, with the smooth flow of a foreign dialect falling from the mouth of someone whose language was generally so crude. And maybe Deadpool was reiterating foul jokes and innuendos in Spanish, but it sounded admittedly…nice.

( Well. Nice was a strong word for Wade—better dial back a few notches. )

A reluctant small smile played at Peter’s lips, somewhere in between impressed and intrigued, and for once, he didn’t bother asking the merc for silence. And when he stopped for breathe, Peter found himself tilting his head to the side, biting back an amused grin. “Uh huh. So, should I be worried about what the hell you shouted at that poor guy?”

☢ = falling over

Peter snorted. Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, he thought that the noise might come back to bite him later on, when he was teased relentlessly, but it was worth it. So worth it. Deadpool was in a heap on the ground,  rant about some inane subject put on hold, and that was hilarious. The best thing that had happened to him all day, actually. The ever-capable, trained mercenary had tripped. If the universe was planning to pay him back for the years of brutality, he figured this might have been a decent start. Bent over, hand clutching his stomach, Peter shook his head in wonder. “Dude. Oh my god. I wish I had a camera.”

♘ = stabbing them

“Bio-chem it is!” he agrees readily, and there’s a bit of a flourish when he walks into the elevator, a twist-turn to face Peter. He’s got this. “Obviously there’s some high-class confidential development that we’ll keep you away from, but those are all behind closed doors anyway. But what’s got your interest in bio-chem land?” 

“Right, right. Of course.” Peter nods quickly, unable to keep a grin from tugging at his mouth. The elevator moves too slow for his tastes, limbs restless because holy crap, he’s actually about to see Tony Stark’s bio-chem labs, and that seems too good to be true. But the man himself is so vibrant in personality, with all of the flourishing and eccentricity, and Peter can’t help but feel a little starstruck. He shrugs, smiling and shifting his weight a little. “Uh, I guess I’ve been a…big fan? For a while now. Years. I was a bio-chem major, actually. So, I couldn’t really pass this up.”

☽ =wandering alone at night

Peter could write a book—several books—detailing the seemingly endless list of strange things he encountered while out on patrol. Just when he thought he had seen the weirdest, something appeared with what he assumed was for the sole purpose of proving him wrong. And while he had seen a lot, the cloaked figure standing at the street corner would have made it within the first two chapters, without a doubt. Peter hesitated, senses prickling enough to mean danger, but not enough for him to do anything. Yet. Instead, he regarded the figure carefully, taking a few leisurely steps forward. “So, you come here often?”