It was a simple deal.

The superhero mercenary kind of life didn't leave much room for anything -by any means of the term- regular. Girlfriends were a good way to drive yourself into insanity keeping an identity secret, and could potentially wind up with the need of therapy if you got them killed. It was a dangerous job, not meant for civilians to get caught up in. Peter had sworn that off. That being said, it had become a lonely job. If he'd known, however, that promising to leave relationships out of his life would result in the completely absurd situation he was in now, he might have tried a little harder... but the past is the past.

Deadpool was a mercenary that had a sick fascination with him. Their relationship had started out as estranged acquaintances, to awkward friends, then Deadpool mindlessly flirting with him and his "gorgeous ass". That had spiraled out into an interesting pass time, throwing tantalizing banter at one another atop roofs in the middle of the night. Deadpool would show up randomly sometimes and ambush Peter while he was on patrols, kick starting some outrageous flirtation which could end up in.. interesting situations.

That was fine, for a while. Then it got a little more out of hand.

Now, Peter was in the Merc's old, shabby apartment, up against the peeling wall with Deadpool fucking him into next year.

They were, in a sense, companions. They kept masks on whenever they were together, agreeing to keep identities and real life separate. Hell, Deadpool kept his entire suit on most of the time, only rolling down the tops of his spandex pants and the bottom of his mask for the necessities. It wasn't a relationship. More of a deal. A simple deal that rode off loneliness with some damn good sex.

...but it wasn't a relationship.

Peter was sitting on the corner of a new building, enjoying the fresh vantage point it provided for watching the bank across the street. The material of it wasn't old enough to rust, and the owners had paid extra for some top notch heating that seeped through to a point where it was vaguely warm where he sat. It was a nice change form the old buildings that looked over dead-beat back alleys.

"How's it swingin' web head?"

Peter cocked his head to an angle so that he could see the intruder. Deadpool stood a few feet behind him, waking his way to the ledge with a plastic bag that advertised a taco joint on it's front. "Soft or hard?"

"Excuse me?"

"Tacos." He chuckled, plopping down beside peter and holding out the bag, "The state of your dick isn't something I need to ask about."

"Shut up." Peter huffed, reached in and pulled one out at random, peeling the wrapper away before pulling the rim of his mask over his mouth, ready to take a bite, "What's your sick fascination with tacos about?"

"They're only the second most delicious food in the universe."

"And the first?"

Deadpool brought up his own mask and grinned, "Chimichangas, of course."

"Aren't they the same thing?" Peter questioned, taking another bite.

"Blasphemy!"

"Blasphemy?"

"Of the highest order!" Deadpool screeched, reaching over to pluck the half-eaten taco out of Peter's hand, "Give this back."

"Hey! I was eating that!"

"You don't deserve such beauty..." the merc muttered, stuffing the taco into his mouth shortly after.

Peter shook his head, "You're ridiculous."

"I'm amazing."

"Amazingly ridiculous."

"Ehh..." Deadpool shrugged, "I'll take it."

They babbled back and forth a little longer before Peter took action and stole another taco from the bag, deciding not to bother hiding his hunger. Deadpool nearly tackled him, trying to get it back. "Hey! These are for true believers only!"

"I believe in whatever you want me to as long as I get something to eat." Peter laughed, pushing at Deadpool's chest while holding the taco over his head and away from the grabby arms of the merc. "You stole the one I was eating!"

Deadpool drew back in a pout and crossed his arms. "I want compensation then."

"What do you want?"

He grinned deviously behind his mask, "A lap dance."

Peter let out a huffed laugh, starting to hand back the taco, "Not worth it."

"Then how about a kiss?"

"Keep the taco. I'll eat later."

Deadpool didn't take the taco back, just leaned a little further into Peter's personal space. "How about I give you the taco, and you let me kiss you anyway?"

Peter grinned, "I require two tacos."

"Done."

There wasn't any time to take a victorious bite before Deadpool pushed forward, connecting their lips subtly at first, reaching a hand up to cup Peter's cheek as the boy's taco-filled hand resigned absently to his lap. Slow movements started to get a little more bold as the mercenary left Peter's lips and licked beneath his jaw, taking notice of the way he'd started to breathe a little heavier. He bit the skin that wasn't covered by the neck of his spider-suit.

His actions were stopped suddenly when Peter put a hand on his chest, "Deadpool..." he muttered, a little breathless.

"What?"

"I, uh... dropped my taco..."