SpideyPool

Old Friends.

Sorry for the short chapter, and i apologize for the exttremely long waiting period. I have my own laptop now and plan to start this back up. Over 4,000 views???? I'm so excited, thank you so much, guys!!!! And a heads up for the Marvel fans, i might, might be starting Stony. Let's see how it goes. 

Enjoy!

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Wade looked down at the brunnette. Petey was speechless. His mouth kept opening and closing, his eyes running back and forth. 

"I- Uh- I-"

"I can fulfill your fantasy. I want you, Peter." 

Mine! That word kept roaring in Wade's head. He wanted the little spider, would kill to pin him underneath him. 

"I-"

Wade silenced Peter's stammers by grabbing his hand and placing it on the bulge in his spandex. "I want you.

Peter turned away, jumping over the bed and crouching in the corner -- of the ceiling. "Get out!"

"Peter-"

"Deadpool, get the fuck out of my goddamn apartment!" Peter shouted. 

Wade put his hands up in surrender. "Fine. But sooner or later, you're going to come looking for me, because I know you want me, too." With that, Wade slammed the door behind him, stomping down the stairs. 

[Smooth move, bozo.]

{That was not the way to do this.} 

"You think?" Wade snapped at the voices only he could hear, slamming out the front door of the lobby, stomping down the street. His hands fisted at his sides. He wanted to kill something. 

[Bro, you need a drink. And a fuck.]

{Profuse amounts of alcohol and unprotected sex with leagues of random women will not cure his want for Peter.}

[Sure it will! You just gotta do it right!]

{You are an imbecile.}

[You're imbeicler!]

{That's not a word. That's not even how you use that word, you idiot.}

"Will both of you shut up?" Wade snapped. 

"Excuse me?" The two bimbos next to him squawked. 

"Not you." He growled, stomping past them. 

"Well who the hell else were you talking to, jackass?"

Wade rolled his eyes and headed into an alley, jumping up to catch the fire escape. He climbed up the ladder and then stomped up the stairs to the seventh floor, where he opened his window and slid into his apartment. 

"Hovel sweet hovel." He muttered, walking over the trash caked on the floor. He headed into the kitchen, kicking an empty beer bottle out of his way and opening the fridge. 

"Three day old chimichangas? Heh, why the fuck not. Not like i"ll die from it." He sneered as he grabbed the plate and sat down at his table, taking his mask off. He shoved the first one in his mouth, tossing the mask onto the table. 

 What the hell was he going to do? 

Wade didn't chase. He wasn't one to chase. He didn't like to chase. But he knew he'd never be able to get Peter off his mind until he'd had him. Wade was stubborn like that. 

 He ran his gloved hand over his bald, scarred head. Well, honestly, what did it matter? Peter would never want...this. He a cancer-ridden freak who couldn't die. He lived in trash and killed people for a living.

He was a cockroach. 

He finshed his chimichangas and tossed the bag out of the kitchen window. Walking into his living room, he sat down on his couch and leaned back, looking at the ceilng. He used to be handsome. A sexy motherfucker with blonde hair and looks that drove ladies and men crazy. 

Now he was...Deadpool. 

[C'mon, man you're the shit!]

{You're not helping.}

[At least I'm trying!]

Wade closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears, even though it would do nothing. Be quiet...Please, just shut up.

I don't want to be alone anymore...

[You're never alone, dude!]

{You have us.}

Wade grabbed a beer off the endstand and cracked it open, downing it in a few swallows. 

Time to get wasted.