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Spider-Man Bingo 2021
Personal Assistant

“I’m taking next week off.”

Peter looks up from the never ending pile of paperwork and frowns at Anna Maria where she’s standing at the edge of his desk. He looks away to the ceiling, thinking back over whether or not that’s something he approved recently. HR usually handles Parker Industries’ time off requests, but Anna Maria works directly under him and he’s always handled it for her in the past.

And he definitely doesn’t remember being asked for time off. “When did you submit that? Have I approved it?”

Instead of answering, Anna Maria just levels him with a very unimpressed glare. Okay, so maybe he did approve it once upon a time, and he’s just… not remembering it. Not a surprise, really. Peter has a lot going on between being CEO of Parker Industries and Spider-Man. And he’s been even more distracted as of late because… Nope. No. He promised himself that he wasn’t going to think about Deadpool and the mess going on between them while he’s at work.

“Never mind.” Peter gives her a weak smile. “Who – uh – Who will be covering for you while you’re away?” Hopefully she won’t be leaving him high and dry. He kind of depends on her for a lot around here, both in and out of the lab.

“I’ve made arrangements.” Anna Maria holds up a tablet, screen facing Peter with what looks like a resume listed on the front. “Leroy St. Germaine. He’s an executive assistant. While he won’t be helping you in the lab, he’ll be helping you in the office to pick up your slack. You might want to arrange a Spider-Man alternate for the week, because Leroy won’t cover your ass like I will.”

Peter ducks his head and drums his pen against the desk, already thinking about who he can reach out to for that. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

She taps at the screen a few times and Peter’s computer beeps with the notification of a new e-mail. “I’ve forwarded you his details. He’s just a temp, but he’ll be here bright and early Monday morning. I’ve scheduled him regular hours for the week, so he’ll be done at five o’clock on Friday. You’ll be paying a premium for keeping him after hours.”

“Why would I keep him –” He cuts off and rolls his eyes. “Never mind. Thank you for arranging that. I appreciate it.” Thankfully, they’re not in the middle of any big project in the lab, so this is probably the best time for Anna Maria to take a vacation.

He’s still going to miss her, though. She’s the only person at Parker Industries who knows that he’s Spider-Man. Having someone around who can cover for him when he needs to duck out for a little city saving time is super helpful. But he's going to have to put that on the back burner for next week, even if he'd rather not.


After a busy weekend of patrols, fighting villains who don’t know when enough is enough, and laughing a little too hard with Deadpool, Peter almost completely forgot about Anna Maria taking the week off. He steps off the elevator early Monday morning and there’s a stranger in a suit and tie waiting next to the double doors of his office.

Even though Anna Maria was a scientist, she was also kind of his personal assistant. Peter has a proper administration assistant, Alisha, who fields calls and deals more with all the office stuff. Honestly, she’s more like an office manager, and she definitely gets paid to reflect that. She’s sitting at her desk to one side of the unofficial lobby of his office. As soon as she notices Peter, she immediately turns to her computer to start typing away at it. In the few seconds before that, Peter definitely noted that she was staring dreamily at the stranger.

This guy is supposed to take on the personal assistant role that Anna Maria handled, apparently, and it all comes back to Peter in a rush after a brief moment of confusion. The elevator doors slide shut and the guy looks up from the tablet in his hands, and Peter nearly trips over his own feet. Close cropped blond hair, blue eyes to die for, a small scar cutting through an eyebrow, and drop dead gorgeous. There's something vaguely familiar about him, but Peter is just... Guh.

“Good morning, Sir.” The guy – what was his name again? – smiles and holds out a cup from Starbucks. It looks like a Cinnamon Roll Frappuccino Blended Coffee, which just so happens to be one of Peter’s favourite things to order.

“Uh, thanks.” He takes it, a little unnerved because how does this guy know what he likes? But, also, he’s never been that good at talking to unfairly attractive people, and it takes him a moment too long to get his tongue working properly. “I’m Peter, but I guess you knew that already.”

The guys nods, and it’s in the stiff style that Peter has come to associate with people who have been in the military. “I have the honour of working for you this week, Sir. I’m Leroy St. Germaine. If you prefer, you may call me Roy.”

“Nice to meet you, Roy.” Peter shuffles his briefcase and the coffee around in his hands to offer one for a shake. “How much did Anna Maria fill you in on your duties for today?”

“I’ve been fully briefed on all my tasks.” Roy shakes his hand before turning his attention back to his tablet. He flicks a finger across the screen. “She left me a very thorough task list and instructions. You don’t have to worry, Sir. I’m very good at following instructions.”

Peter nearly does a double take, almost choking on a sip of his Frappuccino. Was that a wink? Did Roy just wink at him? He shares a look with Alisha, and she seems a bit surprised too. That… seems a little unprofessional, doesn’t it? Especially for someone who has all the hallmarks of a military background in some form. Roy stands straight backed, feet a measured distance apart, and who else calls a quote-unquote superior ‘sir’?

When he looks back to Roy, his expression is neutral and pleasant, and there’s no hint of flirtation on it. “I’ve already received your schedule from Alisha.” Roy tilts his head in her direction, and she lights up with a flush before quickly turning to her computer again. “If you would like to follow me into your office, we can go over your appointments for the day.”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” Peter gestures with his drink.

Behind closed doors, Roy does get a little looser in his posture. He stands in front of Peter’s desk and reads off his schedule to him while he gets set up for the day. Peter zones out about halfway through, if only because Roy actually has a really nice voice? It’s a kind of… Demi Moore quality. Smokey, and deep. It’s the kind of voice that Peter really likes and he firmly puts that thought out of his mind. Roy is an employee, thank you very much, no matter how temporary.

By the time Roy sweeps out of his office, off to do his own tasks, Peter is left feeling a bit like he was punched by the Rhino. Even though it was nothing special, all business and no pleasure, it’s still – There was something about the whole thing that has left Peter with a niggling feeling in the back of his head. Something familiar about the whole interaction that he can’t quite put his finger on.

With some effort, he manages to get his attention back on his work.


“Spider-Man!” Roy gasps loudly and Peter nearly jumps right out of his chair, not having expected that at all. Roy wasn’t even in the room the last time he checked.

He looks up sharply, wondering if he left anything around that would give him away, because he had been tweaking the webshooter design earlier. Everything has been put away, but a knock at the window gets his attention and Peter glances back. Sure enough, Spider-Man is hanging down on a web and he gives a little wave.

“I thought everyone knew that Spider-Man works for me on occasion.” Peter gives Roy an easy smile as he stands up. “Didn’t Anna Maria tell you?”

“She did, but I still didn’t expect I’d get to see him in person.” There’s an excited edge to Roy’s voice as he crosses the room. He’s clutching his ever present tablet to his chest, stars in his eyes. “I was hoping, though! I’m a huge fan.”

Peter can’t help grinning as he opens the window, inordinately pleased with that.

Spider-Man crawls through and flips to the floor with a little bit of flair. Underneath the mask is Peter’s favourite go-to when he needs someone to pretend to be Spider-Man in the same room as him; Hobie Brown. This particular suit is designed with a voice modulator to make Hobie sound like Spider-Man (which is just Peter speaking in a deeper register than usual), and grants him the ability to wall crawl. The other Spider-Man mannerisms and movements is all up to Hobie and he does a great job with it. Even Anna Maria was fooled the one time Peter tried to get her to guess which was the real Spider-Man.

“Who’s the new suit, Pete?” Hobie hops up onto the corner of the desk to crouch into that classic Spider-Man pose, keeping up the illusion. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“He’s Anna Maria’s stand in for the week.” Peter drops back into his chair and gestures between the two of them. “Roy, Spider-Man. Spider-Man, Leroy St. Germaine.”

Hobie holds out his hand, and Roy grabs it with both hands to shake it enthusiastically. “It is such an honour to meet you, Mr. Spider-Man! You’re my honest-to-goodness favourite superhero. Well, more like second favourite, but it’s a very close second to Captain America.”

“I don’t blame you.” Hobie laughs and frees his hand from Roy’s eventually. “He’s pretty awesome. First time I met him, I was totally star struck.”

“No doubt!” Roy bounces in place once, and then seems to remember where he is. “I’m sorry, Sir.” He straightens and adopts that military stance again. “That was unprofessional of me.”

Peter tries really hard not to laugh, and he waves his hand as a sweep through the air. “It’s fine, Roy. It’s cute when people get excited about their personal heroes. You’re not the first to geek out over Spider-Man in my office and you won’t be the last.” And it might stroke his ego just a little bit, even if he’s not the one in the mask currently.

Roy smiles brightly, and it really highlights how gorgeous he is. His suit today really brings out his eyes, and it looks… God. It just really looks good on him. Does he get his suits tailor made? Because it certainly seems like it. Fits him like a glove and… Peter may or may not have nearly drooled when Roy picked up a pen he dropped earlier today.

“Well, great as it is to meet a fan, I am here on business.” Hobie turns and tosses a flash drive at Peter, and he nearly fumbles it to the floor in his surprise. “Here’s that info you wanted, Boss.”

Info? Peter frowns and plugs the drive into his computer. He clicks through to open it, and immediately snorts. “Thanks, Spidey. Definitely couldn’t have found the Steven Universe movie on my own.”

Hobie shrugs and steps down off the desk. “You mentioned you didn’t have the movie, but you did have the show. Now you can finish it.”

“The movie is a real tear jerker.” Roy interjects in a really offhanded kind of way, and Peter and Hobie look to him in surprise. He smiles sheepishly and runs a hand over the back of his neck. “My daughter and I might’ve binged watched everything Steven Universe in the span of a weekend. I was really surprised how good it was, and how well it handled some pretty serious situations you don’t normally find in kid’s shows.”

Peter doesn’t intend to, but at the mention of a daughter his eyes immediately drop to Roy’s left hand. Did he some how miss the presence of a ring? Nope, he’s not wearing any jewelry. Roy is kind of tan, and it doesn’t look like there’s a tan line of any kind. Of course, Peter is only looking because he’s curious. It’s not like he’s interested or anything. He’s got his own… complicated situation going on, and he’s been avoiding that for a while.

Roy drums the fingers Peter is looking at against the back of his tablet. Peter immediately snaps his eyes back up, only to find an amused smile and a raised eyebrow. Heat fills his face and he quickly looks away again, clearing his throat and trying to pretend like he’s busy. That’s not hard to do when he has project proposals to comb through, and a few lab check-ins to do later on with Roy.

“Thanks – um –  thanks for the movie, Spidey. I’ll definitely check it out later.”

“Anytime, boss.” Hobie salutes him and steps back over to the window. “I’ll be swinging around if you need me.” He gives Roy a little wave. “Nice to meet you.”

Roy perks up again, eyes bright as he waves enthusiastically. “You too, Spider-Man!”

With that, Hobie all but dives out the open window. He swings away and out of sight around the side of the building, though he won’t be going too far. Peter purchased an apartment nearby for his Spider-Man doubles to stay at during the work day when he needs to play up Peter Parker but still have Spider-Man make appearances. They have live feed of Peter’s office on a monitor there at all times, and he has a button on his watch that he can use to summon them when he needs them.

And, of course, they get paid for their time. Hobie tried to refuse the paycheck at first, but Peter insisted. If anyone is going to be missing out on a day of work because he needs a Spider-Man body double, then he’s going to make sure they’re properly compensated. Years of just barely scraping by with casual work at the Bugle and the odd job here or there has really made Peter very generous with his current millionaire status.

“I originally came in here to let you know that your appointment in Lab Five has been pushed back an hour.” Roy drops back into his more professional tone. “I have adjusted the rest of your schedule to compensate for this. As well, I took the liberty of placing your lunch order already and it should be arriving in the next half hour, Sir.”

Is it really already lunch time? Peter glances at the clock in surprise. Guess so. “Thanks, Roy. What’s on the menu for today?”

“A little birdy told me that you enjoy the enchiladas con queso from Juanito’s on the Upper East Side.” Roy gives his tablet a little wiggle, hinting that Anna Maria might have actually planned out Peter’s meals for the week. It definitely sounds like something she would do. She gets really annoyed with him when he’s so wrapped up in a project or paperwork that he forgets to eat.

“That little birdy would be absolutely correct.” Peter grins, mouth already starting to water. “A friend of mine introduced me to Juanito’s and I’ve had everything on the menu at least once. The enchiladas con queso are definitely the best thing they make.”

Roy goes still briefly, blinking a few times, before smiling. “Agree to disagree. Their tamales are miles better than the enchiladas.”

Peter quirks a brow at that, because he’s definitely had this argument before. Deadpool claims the same, even though he never shuts up about chimichangas. In fact, Peter can’t actually remember Deadpool ever ordering chimichangas from any of the Mexican restaurants that they frequent. Odd.

“They’re nothing to sniff at, sure, but enchiladas rank higher than tamales any day of the week.”

“Those sound like fighting words, Sir.”

Oh, but they are. “I think we’re going to need to have ourselves a comparison.” Peter is already reaching for his phone. “I’ll add tamales to the order, we’ll split both evenly, and I’ll prove that Juanito’s enchiladas are the best.”

Roy opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “I – Sir – That –”

Peter is halfway through dialing a number he knows by heart before he realizes what he’s doing. He hangs up, a flush already climbing up his throat. “I guess I – uh – I shouldn’t order without checking that you don’t already have plans for lunch. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, Sir.” An attractive blush stains Roy’s cheeks and he looks down at his tablet. “I was simply going to work through my lunch and eat the sandwich I packed.”

“Would you – I mean, I know it’s a little weird –” Seriously weird, because Roy has only been here since Monday. It’s Wednesday now and he’s only going to be here for another few days. “But, if you’d like, I wouldn’t – I don’t mind if – It’s –” Crap. God, why is he so bad at talking to people? This is why Anna Maria always deals with the employees.

Roy seems to piece together exactly what it is that Peter is trying to say. He smiles, soft and sweet and it makes Peter want to melt. “I would love to join you for lunch, Sir. But I do insist on paying for the tamales myself.”

“Not a chance, Roy.” Peter grins and starts dialing again. “Consider it a treat on me, as thanks for all the hard work you’re putting in this week.” And he’s definitely been working hard. From what Alisha has told him, Roy is actually ahead on all the tasks that Anna Maria left him. That deserves to be rewarded.

The blush gets even darker and Roy ducks his head. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You can call me Peter, y’know?” If only because this whole ‘sir’ thing is doing things to him that are really inappropriate for the workplace.

“I know, Sir.” Roy’s smile turns teasing and there’s definitely a glint in his eye. “But it’s a hard habit to break. If that’s your preference, however, I’d be happy to comply.”

He did say that he’s good at following directions. Peter weighs his choices, chewing on his bottom lip while the phone rings against his ear. Eventually, he comes to a decision. “Whatever you want is fine.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

The line picks up and Peter turns his attention to adding a couple more items to the order. Anna Maria never orders him enough to fill his belly, but he can get away with a couple more dishes and claim he’ll save them for dinner.

He may be looking forward to lunch with Roy a little more than is probably acceptable for the CEO and an employee.


Peter’s back hits the windows with such force that he almost expects to hear them crack. They’re made of stronger stuff, though, and it’s not like he was thrown into them by a superhuman. This is just a regular guy shoving him up against the floor to ceiling glass windows of his office, bodies slotting together with a knee between his thighs and his hands being firmly pinned together above his head. The room is dark and the twinkling stars of New York’s skyline are the only light for them to see by.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?” Roy’s rough voice is purring in his ear and Peter swallows back a groan. “Anna Maria never told me how pretty you’d be. You have any idea how hard it’s been for me these last few days?”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Peter manages back, spine arching forward as Roy drags his tongue along the shell of his ear – a sensitive spot for him. “Do you purposefully have your pants tailored as tight as physically possible?”

Roy laughs, and it’s a deep rumble that Peter can feel through their chests. One large hand grips his ass through his pants and gives an appreciative squeeze. Peter has to bite back a moan, but he does drop his head back against the glass with a heavy thud. God, Roy is just – he’s so bulky. Clearly he works out and puts a lot of effort into his body. The muscles pressed against him are defined and solid, and Roy is just – It’s triggering memories in Peter’s mind of another hard body against his, clinging to his back while swinging through the skies over New York. That brings up feelings he’s been suppressing because of other relationships, and –


With a near whine of disappointment, Peter sighs. “Stop.”

Immediately, Roy lets him go and steps back. Those full lips – lips Peter didn’t even have the chance to kiss yet – are pulled into a frown, and Peter hates it.

“I’m sorry.” Peter pushes his hand through his own hair and thumps the back of his head against the window again. “I can’t do this.”

Roy hesitates, but he takes another step back. “You’re not – Is there someone else? I never would’ve made a move if you’re with someone, but the papers said you’re single? They said you’re one of the most desired bachelors in the city.”

Peter laughs and drags his hand down his face. “No, no. I’m not dating anyone. One hundred percent single.” So, he should probably give a good reason, right? “It’s just –” He’s kind of head over heels for one of his best friends, but said best friend is married to the demon queen of the underworld?

“Oh, you’re not gay? Or, I guess, bi, maybe pan? Not gonna erase those sexualities.” Roy tilts his head to the side, bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. “I’m not going to be mad if you were a little curious and changed your mind, y’know? You can just say that.”

“It’s not that either. I’m most definitely bisexual.” He thought as much since middle school when he and Harry ‘practiced’ kissing, and definitely confirmed it when he shared that apartment with Johnny Storm during his college years and that jerk insisted on cooking French toast in his underwear every weekend. “But, it’s… You’re an employee, Roy. I can’t fraternize with employees. It’s unethical and I just – I can’t.”

It’s part of the truth, but most certainly not the whole of it. Peter just doesn’t really want to bring Deadpool into this at this time – not that Roy needs to know about him at all.  

Roy hums to himself and crosses his arms. He taps one finger against his chin. “So, then it’ll be fine when I’m no longer employed here?”

Peter’s feelings for Wade haven’t stopped him from dating around in the past and having a few casual dalliances here and there. If Roy wants nothing more than sex, then Peter would be happy to. Will he feel bad because Roy is a lot like Wade physically and he’ll probably be thinking about Wade during it? Oh, absolutely. Luckily, guilt and Peter Parker are good friends.


A wide, almost wolfish grin spreads across Roy’s face. It’s the kind of smile that has Peter’s breath catching in his throat and his pants growing tight. “Okay, then.”

With that, Roy peels off the latex gloves he had been wearing as he was doing a little extra cleaning (as apparently a way to stick around later than he was scheduled for). He tosses them in the trash can as he turns on his heel and starts towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Sir.”

Tomorrow is Friday.


At five o’clock tomorrow, Roy is no longer going to be an employee of Parker Industries.

Peter has never looked more forward to the end of the work week than he does right now.


Peter is hunched over a table, medical mask and goggles in place while the fume extractor hums away next to him. He’s soldering the heck out of a circuit board, the last step of the project he’s been working on all day long. Was it something that needed to get done today? No. Was it something he started just to keep his mind and hands busy so he wasn’t thinking about Roy? Yes, absolutely.

That said, no thought of sex or Roy has entered his mind even once for… Actually, he doesn’t even know how long. Peter has zero grasp of time when he’s working, and that’s why he nearly jumps out of his skin when a heavy stack of papers is dropped at the end of his bench on the other side of the fume extractor. He looks up to find Roy standing there, hands on his hips and smiling.

“This is all for next week.” He pats the stack of paper work. “You’re welcome.”

“What?” Peter reaches over to turn off both the soldering iron and the fume extractor so he can hear him better. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Roy nods, chest puffed out like he’s all proud of himself. “I figured I would get a head start on it while I was waiting for you to finish up. But then you took so long, and I finished up faster than I thought I would.”

Waiting for him? Why? Peter rolls the sleeve of his lab coat up so he can get a look at his watch. He’s still blinking at the numbers reflected back at him when Roy starts speaking again.

“I also technically stopped working for you five hours ago. Don’t worry, I’m not going to charge you for the overtime.”

“You’ll be paid for it regardless.” It’s twelve minutes past ten o’clock in the evening. How that much time escaped Peter is truly beyond him, but – Oh, hello!

Roy steps around the side of the bench and pulls Peter’s chair out with one hand, and promptly straddles his lap. “I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth, then.” Peter’s hands fall to his hips automatically, gripping tight to keep him in place because this really isn’t the right chair for these kind of shenanigans. “And now that it’s after five o’clock - T.G.I.F., by the way - I am officially no longer an employee of yours.”

Any thought about completing the circuit board is out the window in that moment. “That’s…” Peter swallows thickly and licks his lips. “That’s good.” He should probably look to make sure that there isn’t someone else here, but this is his private lab and Roy is leaning in, and it has been way too long since Peter was last kissed.

He closes his eyes and leans in for that kiss, but then Roy leans back with a click of his tongue. “Tsk. You’re really gonna cheat on Spidey like that? Wow.”

It’s like ice water down his back. Peter sits back sharply. “I’m sorry, what?” 

Roy sits back on Peter’s knees and reaches up to dig a finger under the collar of his shirt. The skin of his throat ripples and Peter watches, jaw dropped, as the image of Roy flickers and fades away into a shimmering mesh hood, topped with a very believable wig. Beneath the mesh is familiar scarred skin. In that moment, Peter realizes that he’s never actually touched Roy’s hair, or his skin. 

“Surprised?” Wade cackles his too familiar laugh and tosses the photostatic veil – stolen SHIELD tech, obviously – onto the bench. He follows it up with matching gloves, revealing equally scarred hands. “I rigged it to get the job, no matter how hard your little lab rat tried to vet every application. They were all me, so I was bound to win no matter what.” He reaches into the front of his suit and pulls out the Deadpool mask and gloves, putting them on in a slow, almost teasing way.

Once everything is in place, Deadpool grins wide enough to stretch his leather mask, the white of his eyes thinning into amused crescents. “Had to find a way to get into this place somehow! Spidey insisted the sun shined out your ass, but as much as I love him and that bubble butt, I needed to clear you myself.”

Peter’s stomach feels like it’s plummeting straight through every floor between his lab and the street. He feels queasy, and a bit like he might throw up. “Clear me of… of what?”

“Well, y’see, Petey, I’m a merc, right? Merc with a mouth. People pay me to do not nice things.” Deadpool drapes his arms around Peter’s shoulders while still sitting back on his knees. “But people also tip me off to other people doing not nice things, and oh boy did I get a doozey of a tip about you.” With that, he taps Peter on the end of the nose.

What could Peter Parker have possibly done that would have made someone complain to Deadpool about him? He’s wracking his brain a mile a minute, but nothing is coming up. “What did they – I haven’t done – I don’t –”

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, Petey-pie.” Deadpool boops him on the nose again. “I’ve combed this building stem to stern since Monday and I didn’t find even so much as a hint of what the tip suggested. There’s no elicit human or mutant experimentation going on here, and I’ve hacked your files backwards and forwards and couldn’t find anything.”

Peter breathes out a quick sigh of relief. “Of course not! I would never – Who even – Why even –”

“Trust me, cutie, I’m going to get to the bottom of that.” Deadpool’s voice dips into something dark and angry, and then it’s right back up into the perky gravel he usually has. “This damn thing got Spidey mad at me. He hasn’t spoken to me for a week when I said I got intel that you were a bad, bad man.”

Oh crap, that’s right. He did get mad, and kind of embarrassed that the guy he’s got a monster heart-on for was accusing him of bad things, even if Deadpool didn’t know it was Spider-Man he was also accusing at the time. Peter didn’t even want to listen to the whole thing. He flat out told Deadpool that his intel was wrong, that Peter Parker was a good man, and that Deadpool wasn’t much of a friend if he didn’t trust him on this.

And, clearly, Deadpool still didn’t trust Spider-Man in the end. “Why didn’t you believe him?”

“Because I don’t know you.” Deadpool shrugs, head cocked to the side. “Webs might think you’re a good guy, but I had to make sure that you’re not breaking his trust and doing shit behind his back.” He leans forward until their noses are almost touching. “And I was right.”

Peter jerks back from him, and very nearly shoves Deadpool from his lap. “Excuse me? I’ve never done anything to betray Spider-Man!”

In response to that, Deadpool drifts a hand down Peter’s chest, pausing to tug at the waist of his pants. “Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure you were ready to do all sorts of things with me last night and today. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve spent the whole week staring at my ass.” He lets go almost immediately and tweaks Peter’s nose. “You might be clean on the whole human experimentation department, but you lied and said you were single! You were going to cheat on the purest of beans, on Spider-Man, with me!”

Oh God, that’s right. Spider-Man most definitely told Deadpool that he was dating Peter Parker. It was something he mentioned months ago. Not long before he came to terms with his feelings for Deadpool and realized that he messed up big time by effectively friendzoning himself. He also said he was monogamous once upon a time during some late night conversation talking about how Deadpool’s relationship with Shiklah is exclusive, except for the free pass list. A list that has Spider-Man on it, with the caveat that Deadpool could only get with him if Spider-Man was the one to initiate it.

And that little sub-clause on the agreement has haunted Peter since he realized his feelings. But he likes Deadpool. It’s not just sex he’s after, and he’s definitely, one hundred percent monogamous. Would he still have sex with him if the chance came for it? Absolutely. That’s not something he wants to miss out on. Will it kill him to know that he probably won’t be allowed it again, or that afterwards Deadpool will be going home to his wife? Most definitely.

This… may be just be one of the most ridiculous things Peter has ever experienced, and he was bitten by a freaking radioactive spider when he was fifteen.

He snorts once, chokes slightly on it, and dissolves into what is undoubtedly hysterical laughter. Peter doubles over, all but forcing Deadpool out of his lap. He staggers to his feet and steps back, muttering something under his breath that Peter doesn’t catch. He’s laughing too loud; hugging his waist and wheezing at the sheer absurdity of this whole situation in which he would cheat on himself with the guy he’s maybe a little bit in love with.

“Wait a second…” Deadpool grabs Peter by the sides of his face and pulls him up. “Hold the fucking phone, Batman.”

There are actually tears in Peter’s eyes. Even with Deadpool’s hands on his face, he reaches up to brush them away. “Oh my God, ‘Pool.”

Deadpool is quiet for a long time. Long enough for Peter’s laughter to subside into giggles before fading completely. Finally, Deadpool whispers; “I only know one idiot who laughs like that.”

Peter snorts again, knowing when his cover is blown and strangely not minding it as much as he thought he would. “You worked for me for an entire week so you could inspect the building, but you still did a good job. And then you decided to seduce me so you could get me to cheat on myself?” He starts laughing again, hands dropping to rest on Deadpool’s wrists. “Holy crap, ‘Pool, you’re just – of course you would do this.”

“You’re…” Deadpool lets go and steps back again. “You’re not mad?”

He should be, but he’s not. Which is kind of surprising in its own right.

With a sigh, Peter slumps back in his chair and rubs his hands over his heated face. “Not really. Not at the moment. But I am a little annoyed that you couldn’t just trust me. Either way, I definitely prefer this to something like you assuming the worst and just shooting me in the face.”

Shock filters across Deadpool’s mask. “How did you know about that?”

“… About what?” Is this something Peter should be worried about?

Deadpool quickly stands at attention, whistling quietly to himself. “Nothing, never mind!” After a moment, he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I guess I’ll just – I’ll see myself out, then? We'll talk later, probably, especially about who that other Spider-Man was, I guess. Maybe. If you want to?”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Peter stands up and stretches his arms above his head. “Instead of leaving, you could always take off your mask and kiss me. I was kind of looking forward to that.” He'll leave the info about Hobie for another day.

The mask hits the ground before Peter is even finished speaking. With Deadpool shed away, Wade grins at Peter and it’s the same smile that he’s seen all week. Peter has seen Wade without the Deadpool mask literally hundreds of times. And he's heard him too? How he didn’t recognize his voice, those eyes, cheekbones, or those lips is beyond him.

Seriously. How often has he thought about kissing Wade? But he was thrown off by the hair, the clear skin, and the fact that the last place he would have expected to meet Wade freaking Wilson was as his personal assistant hired by Anna Maria for a week. Not to mention that nine times out of ten, he hears Wade’s voice muffled through the Deadpool mask and he always pitches it all over the place depending on whatever nonsense he’s getting up to.

Wade gets up close and personal, arms looping loosely around Peter’s waist. “You don’t have to ask me twice to kiss the Spider-Man, but… Consent is important, y’know? Are you – You’re sure you wanna kiss me after I lied to you all week?”

“You sure you want to risk me changing my mind?” Peter rests his arms on Wade’s shoulders, fingers trailing over the rippled and scarred skin on his head. “I’m on that free pass list of yours, aren’t I? Or do I have to go put on the suit for it to count?”

“No, no. This is fine.” Wade crowds in closer, backing Peter up against the bench. “Doesn’t matter anyways. The whole thing is kinda moot now.”

Peter stills, sticking his feet to the floor and putting his super strength to use to not move another inch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wade blinks and then curses to himself, head dropping back. He sighs loudly before meeting Peter’s eyes again. “Shiklah and me are… We’re on a break? Separated? Pretty sure we’re going to divorce, but we’re not exactly talking at the moment.”

“What? Since when?” And how come Wade never told him about it? This sounds like something someone he calls one of his best friends would tell him.

Groaning, Wade drops his head to Peter’s shoulder. “Do we have to talk about this now? Can’t we just get along with the kissy-kissy right now and have the show-and-tell later?”

“Actually, I’d really like to get that out of the way right now.” Peter lifts Wade’s head, hands cupped around his cheeks. “Please?” For added effect, he bats his eyelashes. Most people would think it weird that a guy in his early thirties is pulling this move, but Peter knows Wade. He knows that he’s a sucker for this kind of crap.

“That’s cheating.” Wade wails quietly, but he remains sagged against Peter’s front. “Fine, alright. Jeeze. Stop with the puppy eyes.”

Peter celebrates his victory silently and mentally, and very quietly awaits the story.

Wade, in characteristic Deadpool fashion, spills everything in a deluge of vocabulary peppered with some potty-mouth that Aunt May most definitely would not approve of. The gist of it is that Wade caught Shiklah in bed with someone who wasn’t on her free pass list. This brought about a big fight where she accused him of spending too much time top side, trying to change his life around by being a good guy with Spider-Man, and cheating on her emotionally because – and this is the important part – Wade is in love with him.

His answer to that, is – without hesitation – to drag Wade in for a kiss. It’s just the first, but it most definitely will not be the last.