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When they left the cave, Deadpool was still angrily muttering under his breath. “All those years, he finally trusted me, not even sure this comic is canon, considering the solo series, and still...”. He paused and turned to a patch of empty air. “You $3!+$ won’t let me see his face! What’s the matter, relationships progressing is bad for your business model?”
”Still talking to the, um, audience?” Spider-Man asked.
“Not the audience, the editors! They’re the real bastards here! They can’t have their precious Spider-Man sullied by Deadpool the cosmic punching bag knowing his real name!”
Spider-Man turned to the spot Deadpool was looking at. “Seriously, editors, could you lay off? That was nasty not letting him see my face or hear my name. I care about him and I want to be there for him, and I don’t need you making that harder for him.”
Deadpool gave Spider-Man a sharp look. “You believe me?”
Spider-Man sighed. “No. But I figured it was worth a shot. It’s a weird world, and if there’s a chance talking to something I can’t see will make your mind or your life be nicer to you, I thought, why not? Worst thing that could happen is I look stupid, and you’re more than worth that.”
“So you still think I’m crazy.”
”I mean you are crazy, aren’t you?”
”Good point.”
Spider-Man took his mask off and rubbed his face. “Look, I calmed down a a bit, and I remembered it’s not your fault. You’re not being difficult, you actually have mental problems, and you can’t help it if your brain won’t let you see my face.”
Deadpool stared at Spider-Man. “Holy shit, you’re Peter Parker!”
Spider-Man blinked. “Did you just have a breakthrough?” Did he just cure Deadpool by being nice to him? Was that all that was needed the whole time?
”This is fanfic!”
”Apparently not.” But Deadpool could see him. That was probably some kind of progress.
Deadpool pulled off his own mask. “I am so sorry about killing you those times!”
”Those times?”
”Yeah, I kind of did it twice. Like I said, I didn’t know. If it helps, my wife stabbed me at least a thousand times helping me bring you back.”
”That doesn’t help,” said Peter. “But you’re forgiven. Just don’t go around killing people.”
”Um,”
”At least try not to, okay? Don’t do it if it’s not self-defense.”
”I’ll do my best.”
”It’s a start.”
Deadpool grabbed Peter’s shoulders. “Don’t you see, baby boy? This is fanfic! Glorious, glorious fanfic!”
”Like that stuff the new Ms. Marvel writes?” Baby Avengers had actually been pretty good.
“More like what Loki writes.” Deadpool threw his hands in the air. “Fanfic! The only land where writers are ever nice to me! Where I can use some real motherfucking swear words without being played by Ryan Reynolds! Look, any moment you’re going to reveal that you’ve been bisexual the whole time!”
Peter felt his face grow hot. “How did you know that?” It’s not like he was trying to hide it, exactly, but most of the people he fell for were women, and aside from occassionally hooking up with Johnny Storm when they were both single, and one disastrous date with Moon Knight, it hadn’t come up in a superhero context.
“See? You totally just did a Bi The Way! The comics would never let you do that! Only in the sweet and wonderful land of fanfic can we have you being bi, me actually dating dudes rather than just admitting to being into them, and delightful Spideypool sex!” Deadpool pulled Peter in for a kiss. “Come here!”
Peter put his hands up. “Hold on! We’re not kissing!” Kissing Deadpool would be...weird. He’d known Deadpool was into him, and they’d definitely had a developing friendhsip, but kissing? That would be...
Dammit, now he couldn’t stop picturing it. Was this fanfic?
“No Spideypool love?”
”No,” said Peter. “Look, this isn’t the moment for you to start hitting on me. We’ve had a lot happen, and I want to just have a nice moment as friends, okay?”
Deadpool sighed. “Fine.” He looked at the sky. “But this had better be a fucking slow-burn budding romance, or I will climb through the walls of reality to hunt you down and kick you in the balls! Or ladyballs. Stastically, probably ladyballs!”
”Yelling at the writer?” Peter asked.
Deadpool nodded.
“Look, whatever this is, I’m glad we have some kind of space where you can open up to me, and whatever’s getting in your way, whether it’s your own mind, or some...writer...”
”Disney corporporate policy”
”Or Disney corporate policy, I’m glad you get a break where we can connect as friends. Hugs?” Peter reached out his arms.
Deadpool’s eyes lit up.
“Hugs with no butt-grabbing?” Peter amended.
“I guess.” Deadpool leaned in and gave Peter a hug. From how tightly he held on, Peter was pretty sure that even without the butt-grabbing, the hug meant a lot.
“But you owe me, writer,” Deadpool muttered. “Slow-burn romance.”
—
The writer did not write a slow-burn romance, and was promptly hunted down and kicked in the ladyballs.
The end.