Spider and the Fool [SPIDEYPOOL ♥️]

5- Insecure Wade Overthinks Everything

"You know what? I'm done talking about this. I. Am. Done. You won't hear me mentioning it again." "Great." Al sighed, tired of her roommate's bullshit. A few seconds of silence filled the room as Wade stopped his pacing, frowning and closing his eyes in thought.

"No but seriously, do you think I'm being cl-" "For the love of God, Wade, shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in my head." The mercenary shot a glance at the blind woman, disbelief sprawled out on his face. "You wouldn't do that. You're not that dramatic." She sighed and got up from her recliner, walking to the kitchen as he silently followed her. "You're being annoying, just go meet him already and leave me alone!" "But what if that's not what he really wants?" Wade anxiously replied, playing with his fingers. [Yeah, he doesn't want to see you.] (It's bad to assume...) "Argh, shut up, you two! Al, what do you think? You think Peter thinks I'm clingy?"

She scoffed, not interested. "I don't know, Wade. Why don't you ask him?" Wade groaned, stomping his foot and storming off into the living room, tripping over the coffee table in the process. "FUCK!" "You need help..." "SHUT UP, AL!" Wade whined, holding his tibia as he rolled on the floor, pride far more bruised. He needed to get his shit together. The antihero known as Deadpool stayed still and silent for a good minute, weighing the cons and pros of meeting up with his cute boyfriend. Pros: cuddles, seeing Peter smile, hearing Peter laugh, hugging Peter, kissing Peter, teasing Peter, nuzzling nose in Peter's neck, Peter, Peter, PETER. He was a slight bit obsessed. Cons: Insecurity because of Peter asking him to show himself, Peter getting annoyed at him (but he's cute so also a pro), Peter getting mad at him, can't leave because Peter is literally the air he needs to breathe, can't sleepover, Tony, heart attack 'cause of that cuteness.

Wade sighed. "This doesn't fucking help!" He took his head in his hands and shut his eyes. Did Peter think he was annoying? Was he just an inconvenience to him? A bother? Why couldn't he get those questions out of his head and just meet up like they agreed to? [Stay home, you know you want to.] (He's waiting on you...) Wade cursed in irritation and just looked at the ceiling, limp, having decided to just rot on the floor until the guilt and shame were too unbearable and he had to drown them out with alcohol. "I'm sorry, Peter..."

"Just where the hell is he?" Peter grumbled as he stared at his window, hoping Wade would suddenly hop in, crashing on the floor and sporting his usual charming, goofy grin. But it didn't happen. It was almost 11 and Peter had started doing homework to refrain from giving in to his worrying thoughts. Wade always came through. He came by even when he wasn't supposed to.

So, what was holding him back now? Peter sighed, tapping his pencil on his desk nervously. Just as the teen was about to get back to his math, a knock on his bedroom door made him jump. "Y-yes?" "Can I come in?" Peter gulped at the voice of his father, obviously realizing that he was going to find out something was wrong with him. Tony never missed the little detail changes in his attitude when he was feeling unwell. Neither of his dads did. Maybe it was his fault too. He was terrible at hiding how he was feeling. "Yes, come in." His dad pushed the door open slowly and raised an eyebrow at his son who gulped like he was guilty of some offense.

"W-what's up?" "What's up with you? Doing homework this late?" Tony asked as he walked in and looked down at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his expensive suit. "Oh, I thought I'd get some advance, it's not due." Peter answered while fiddling with his fingers and his father scoffed and sat on his bed. "So, what's going on? What's gotten you all fidgety?" The 17-year-old's head snapped back, and he feigned confusion. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Pete. Late homework, stuttering, your hands are all fidgety... Need I say more? Lay it on me." Peter sighed and flicked at his eraser, avoiding his dad's piercing, all-knowing gaze. "It's nothing..." "Girl trouble?" Tony tried, making his son choke on his own spit. While Peter was coughing his throat out at the shock of the question, the billionaire laughed, laying back on the bed and crossing his legs. "Dad! What-what are you talking about?!" "What? I'm wrong?"