A DeadMan's Tale

6: Rampant Thoughts

A/N: TW (Intrusive thoughts and suicide mention) I don't really know how that stuff works, sorry.
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(Deadpool's POV)

The voices were screaming, shreiking, yelling at Deadpool, telling him not to trust the smaller man pressed against him.

He pushed off of Spiderman, a little harsher than he intended, which sent the hero into the wall behind them and he hit it with a gasp.

"I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have done that" Spiderman trailed off running his hand over his partially masked face.

Look what you do, you make everyone uncomfortable, Wade.

Deadpool tried to play it off as a joke, "nah, it's cool, I just don't want you to feel like you have to do something you don't want to. No one should have to be kissing me of all people. Especially someone like you."

"What does that mean? I'm the one who started it" Spiderman urged in a heated tone. "I do what I want!"

He only "wants to" because he's scared you might come after him and his family.

"Yeah okay... Look, we can just go our separate ways and you won't have to worry about me anymore, I won't come after you. Just forget about me and everything will be fine" Deadpool said in a voice on its way to panic.

Deadpool squeezed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. The voices were being very loud still.

You should have let him break the kiss off and not have ruined it

You're such a freak

Can't you ever just be normal?? You ruin everything you touch.

Maybe you should have a bullet for dinner tonight...

"No" Deadpool whined. He just wanted them to be quite. Just five minutes of peace...

"Hey... are you... alright?" Spiderman asked out stretching his hand towards Deadpool.

"I'm fine." Deadpool snapped. He just needs everyone to be quiet. "You should go home. Forget about me because that's what I plan to do". With that the conversation was over and Deadpool made his way to the staircase from which he had entered.

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(Peter's POV)

Deadpool had probably been gone now for a good 40 minutes but there Peter was, still standing on that roof with his mask half off frozen in shock.

Peter closed his mouth and tried to gather himself. He could still taste Deadpool on his lips, like mints with a sharp tang behind it that Peter couldn't identify.

He wished he would have controlled himself.
Wished he would have used some common sense for a change.

He looked down at his hands with a sigh. His chest felt tight and his heart ached.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Peter chastised himself as he prepared to make his way back home. Tears pinpricked his eyes against his will.

He angrily wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, trying to clear away the memory, and yanked the mask back down over his face.

Flying over New York, tempting fate, was always a good way to clear his mind.

Peter has had a lot of problems since Ben died. He knows he's responsible for his uncles death, he could have stopped it. Him and May had been working on getting better for a while now but Peter still got low sometimes. When he had a particularly tough day it was dangerous for him to be out swinging around because he would think about not shooting off the next web.

Now, you see, he never went through with it and was fairly certain that the fall from the smaller buildings couldn't kill him so what was the point of doing it anyway? Besides, May would be all alone if he did.

Making his way back home Peter continued to tell himself to get over what had just happened. It didn't mean anything. He didn't even know why he was getting so bent out of shape about it. It wasn't like they even knew each other. They didn't even know each other's first names.

At least calm down before you see may. She'll worry if we're worked up...

Finally Peter was home. He slid his fingers underneath the slightly parted window of his bedroom and quietly pulled it open. He slipped through and landed silently on his floor.

Hurriedly, he yanked off his mask and the rest of his suit followed. they hit the back of his closet with a soft thump before he yanked the doors shut.

Thudding down onto his bed in just his boxers, Peter buried his head in his pillow and tried to will himself into oblivion. It didn't work so for now he settled on trying to fall asleep.

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(Wade's POV)

The floor of his apartment was cold and uncomfortable but he didn't want to get up.

He wanted to do something, anything to get his mind off of what had happened. Then again, he didn't. He liked the feeling of their lips touching. His overly sensitive skin didn't scream and melt under the touch of the smaller man.

Wade liked the memory. He was sad with himself for reacting the way he did. Maybe he could fix it and reach out to the hero. He didn't know his name so that would be challenging. He also did promise he wouldn't hunt the other down if he walked away but they never shook on it so no harm no foul.

This way at least they could have a proper meeting and there would be no more what if's.

First, wade would have to sleep on it. His skin was particularly suffocating today. Maybe it was from all the activity and the hero rubbing up against it. Who knows...

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A/N: super filler. Sorry. I just haven't had much inspiration lately.