I posted this on Archive of our Own before. I have five chapters posted there and have the rest of the story pretty planned out.

There was no sub-category that I could choose which included both Peter and Wade as characters but this will eventually lead to a three-way relationship.

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Peter stumbled when he released his webbing and landed on the roof, hopping a bit forward and nearly face planting. He stood still for several seconds, willing the exhaustion induced dizziness and nausea away, praying that the meager contents of his stomach would settle before he had to get home.

He groaned when he was finally able to straighten, twisting to try and ease sore muscles from the fight he'd just had with Doc Ock. That guy was always a bitch to fight, even more so when he was running on practically no sleep.

It was late, nearly two and he had planned on studying for finals which would be going on for the next week or so but he was also grateful beyond belief that it was Saturday, which meant he could possibly, actually sleep in a little, if he could actually get to sleep.

The tingle of his Spidey sense went off, not the danger warning but more of the you're not alone one and Peter turned, already knowing who it would be before Deadpool swung himself up over the ledge and onto the roof.

"Hey," he said, rubbing at a tender spot on his ribs where the villain had gotten a good shot in, "thanks for the help."

"No problemo, baby boy. You good?"

"Yeah." Peter paused, stretching his arms over his head. "Just…tired." He raised an eyebrow at the way Deadpool was staring at him. "Wade? You good?"

"Yeah, I'm definitely good. Anything to keep all that undamaged." He leered when he said it and Peter was constantly amazed that those facial expressions showed through the mask.

He snorted, used to that sort of thing. "Right. Well, I'm going to go home, and hopefully sleep for at least a day."

"Aw, come on Spidey! The night is still young. I know a twenty four hour diner that isn't a total trash heap nearby. My treat." The new expression was hopeful, and Peter hesitated for a moment, despite how tired he was.

Thing was, he liked hanging out with Wade, and they'd been doing that more and more often lately. He liked Wade. It had taken a while for that to happen, but it had, and Peter was a little worried about what he was pretty sure was a forming crush.

He recognized the feelings. They weren't the hero worshiping crushes he'd had on guys like Bruce or Tony, more like the ones he'd developed on Gwen or MJ based more on who they really were.

So, he hesitated. It helped that he had eaten pretty much nothing all day and was pretty sure he had nothing edible but Ramen Noodles at his apartment. "No masks?" He requested after a moment, moving towards the backpack he usually kept on this roof because it was usually where he and Wade met up after they patrolled together.

It was weird, showing up at a restaurant in his full Spider-Man suit and Deadpool knew his identity now, had figured it out not long after Tony had. It was actually kind of ridiculous. Peter had gone years with the only person to have ever found out being Gwen, and then he'd made friends with the Avengers and that had changed.

It was better, though. He trusted Wade, and it wasn't as if he could ever actually get the other man killed. Not like Gwen. He frowned slightly at the old familiar pang. It had been years but he still felt it every time.

"Oh, you can wear whatever you want, baby," Wade said, and Peter could see his brow wiggling through the mask.

Peter rolled his eyes and pulled a hoodie and jeans out, putting them over his suit, pulling off his mask last to stuff it in the bag. Wade didn't. Of course he didn't. Peter had only seen Wade without the mask a few times and he was horribly self conscious about his scars.

Peter had tried, really he had, to get him to feel more comfortable about it, told him that they didn't bother Peter, and they didn't, at least not in the vain way. It bothered him what might have happened to Wade for him to have those sorts of scars when he could re-grow limbs and heal from pretty much any wound but he wasn't grossed out or horrified or any of those sorts of things that Wade liked to say when he balked at taking off the mask.

Still, he didn't want to make Wade uncomfortable. So… "Food?" He asked, after he'd slipped on his tennis shoes.

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Peter kind of felt like he was floating he was so tired. He trudged his way up the stairs to his apartment, not trusting the elevator that broke down all the time. He was full, at least, for the first time in a while and it was making him even more sleepy.

He got into his apartment and kicked the door shut behind him, almost immediately collapsing on his couch as soon as he was close enough. He should probably get up. His bed was a twin, and the mattress was kind of old but it was still more comfortable than the couch. That would require energy, however, and now that he was lying flat, any energy he'd had fled. He dropped off to sleep.

He was pretty soundly asleep so he didn't hear it when the door knob turned. However, his powers wouldn't let him sleep through it. No matter how deeply asleep he was, that sense of danger, that tingle that went up his spine like a jolt of electricity had him snapping awake, becoming lucid faster than someone without super powers could manage.

He'd barely gotten to roll off the couch to stand when a man came tripping into his apartment, falling face first just inside the door with a groan. He lay there for several seconds while Peter stared at him.

"Um?" Peter took a step closer. "Can I help you?" He asked as the guy pushed himself up to his knees, swaying a bit. There was a fair amount of irritation in his voice because he'd been woken up. Also, Peter recognized the guy now that he'd gotten up so Peter could see his face, as one of his neighbors.

Peter caught a glimpse of green eyes before they slid away from Peter's. When he spoke, he had an accent. "This isn't my place."

Peter snorted, crossing his arms. "No, dude. You're across the hall." He also recognized that this was partially his fault. He hadn't locked his door, after all.

The man closed his eyes and hummed, stumbling to his feet. He was short, positively tiny, actually, with messy black hair. Any other circumstances, and Peter would have thought he was cute. In fact, Peter had thought he was cute on more than one occasion since they'd lived across from each other.

Peter had never met him formally. They'd never talked, and Peter had only seen him a few times, even though he was pretty sure the guy had lived across from him for a long while. Peter had gotten the impression that the guy was a bit of a recluse.

"You should probably go back to your own place," Peter said. Please, he added silently, I'd really like to pass out again.

The man was ignoring him, though, patting down his pockets and it became clear what he was looking for when he stepped back and there was a crunching sound from under one of his shoes.

"Oh," he said, staring down dumbly at the shattered remains of his glasses with a frown, "that's not good."

Peter sighed, and reached forward to snag his shoulder. "How much did you drink to mistake where you lived?"

The man shrugged. "Dunno. Can't really see right now but it's not from the drinking. Where's 501?"

Peter snorted, pushing him until he was sitting on Peter's couch. "Right across from me, actually. Sit, I'll get some water."

"Thanks, nice stranger," he responded and Peter shook his head, exasperated and moving to the tiny half kitchen to get him some.

When he came back, the tiny man was curled up into a ball on his couch, asleep. Peter watched him a moment, considered waking him and hauling him back to his own apartment but in the end, he simply scribbled a note and taped it to the glass of water, and moved towards the bedroom. It wasn't as if he had much to steal and if the guy tried getting into his bedroom, his spidey sense would wake him again.

Peter closed the door and collapsed on his bed.

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Harry woke to the usual. That being a massive, pounding headache brought on by too much alcohol. He groaned, and for several minutes, lay there with the pain and nausea raging. He should get up, if he was smart he would have a potion in his cabinets to counteract the hangover but he had never been smart, and the pain was a distraction, the same way being drunk was.

He finally managed to push himself up until he was sitting and opened his eyes just enough to squint. He didn't have his glasses on or contacts in, but even so, he could tell he wasn't where he was supposed to be.

He froze for several moments. The apartment looked mostly like his except the clutter definitely wasn't his. He tensed, but felt a little better when he pulled up his sleeve and found his wand safely holstered against his forearm.

When he squinted towards the coffee table in front of him, he spotted the glass of water and note. Harry pulled the note and frowned deeply. Harry held it close to his face. He couldn't see shit without his glasses but he was near sighted, not far sighted.

To the guy from 501
you got drunk, mistook
my apartment for yours
broke your glasses
then fell asleep
which is currently
what I should be doing
please don't wake me up
I haven't slept in days
it'd be nice if you locked
the door on your way out
as well. Thanks.

Harry stared, first at the note, and then towards the closed bedroom door incredulously. What kind of idiot let someone they didn't know sleep it off in their place? Especially in this cheap apartment building.

Seriously, he was lucky Harry wasn't some thief. He spotted a bit of mail on the table by the glass, with the apartment number on it as well as the name Peter Parker. Oh. It was that Peter Parker. He'd never actually spoken to the guy, but the reminder of his last failure kind of made him wish he were still drunk.

Harry got to his feet, picking up the glass and moving towards Peter's tiny kitchen. Feeling both guilty and embarrassed that he'd broken into someone else's place, he washed the glass out and put it up in the cupboard, his frown coming back at how barren they were.

"Geez," he said softly, curiosity getting him to open Peter's fridge as well, "what does this guy live on? Ramen?"

Harry chewed his lip, already thinking up an idea.

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Peter woke late in the afternoon, actually feeling well rested for the first time in what felt like forever. He came out of his room, yawning and satisfied when he saw that his couch was empty and the lock on the door handle was turned.

Everything was the same as he'd left it, which was good. He really had been beyond exhausted, and despite the fact that he had super powers, it really hadn't been his smartest idea to let the guy stay.

He shuffled to his kitchen. He already knew there was nothing in his fridge before he opened it but…

"Huh?" There was something. There was a pan, a pretty big one too. Inside the pan was several different kinds of breakfast foods with a note on top of it. Peter picked it up, stunned.

To the guy from 511
as an apology for
breaking into your
place and because
you can't just live
off ramen noodles
although this did
require me to break
in again after I'd already
left so sorry about that
as well. You should be
more careful about letting
strangers stick around though
-the guy from 501, Harry

Peter should have felt angrier at the breaking and entering part but his stomach rumbled too at the sight of food that wasn't pre-packaged cheap garbage. He pulled the pan out and was just a little chagrined with himself at the thought of what he let someone get away with for good food.