Sleepy (Spideypool Quick Fic)
Needed a break from the angst and serious feels that is Storms. So here’s some Andrew Garfield-Spidey and Ryan Reynolds-Deadpool!
Deadpool and Spider-Man were sitting on the roof of a crappy apartment building, waiting for the sun to set so they could start their patrol.
It was actually Wade’s crappy apartment building, but Spidey didn’t know that was why he always insisted on meeting here. Wade was honestly too lazy to meet any further away from his own place, so this worked just fine.
Wade was talking about… well nothing, really. Really he was just running his mouth a thousand miles a minute like he tended to do whenever Spidey was around because even fully wrapped in clothes (spandex) and with his mask firmly in place, Spider Man still gave Deadpool the sort of heebie jeebies that his favorite stripper gave him, or the kind of heebie jeebies one of those giant chimichangas from that street vendor gave him. The kind of heebie jeebies that started at his fingertips and ended well below his belt and always left him feeling as if his brain had shorted out and he was starving for more.
But Spidey had made it clear, like painfully awkwardly crystal screaming clear, months ago, that if Wade didn’t start keeping his hands to himself, that his hot little piece of spandex clad Spidey ass was gonna leave him strung up somewhere where he couldn’t get down, and their days of hanging out on patrol would be OVER.
So Wade kept his grabbiness to himself and instead kept a running stream of nonsense from behind his mask, talking about literally anything in the world to keep himself distracted from the way the Spiders legs were long and muscled, and that trim little waist, and the way his voice was soft even when he was upset and –oh. Oh wait.
What was happening?
What was happening right now?
Somewhere in between talking about the ugly sweater he’d seen on some old lady, and day dreaming about Spideys legs, the kid had fallen asleep… and was leaning against Wade’s shoulder, snoring softly.