Wade was about to put his earphones in and get to work when he heard a thud and saw a scrawny boy in glasses pushed on the ground by some jock. The guy grabbed the boy by the collar and brought their faces so close together Wade was getting ready to offer tissues. Or an umbrella. "It's all your fault that we're here, Parker!" the bully shouted. "So you're gonna do my work for me, are we clear?"

The kid nodded, gritting his teeth, and when his 'friend' let him go, Wade didn't want to see any more. Parker was a typical victim; it was too painful to watch his passive acceptance of his pathetic fate. Wade would much rather scrub the fucking walls. He only saw Parker kicking the dirt and clenching his fists angrily. At least he had some will to fight in him, even if it was utterly wasted.

He didn't see either of the boys for the rest of the day, but he couldn't help but think about them from time to time. The jock made perfect sense, probably crashed his old man's car or something, but the nerd? Who would put someone like him on community service and, more importantly, for what? Scorching a science teacher's ass by accident? Or were good looks a crime now? He he!

The next day he only saw them in passing, but it was enough to irk him, which coincidentally equaled getting his attention. Wade did so many bad things he was seeing his probation worker more often than his own father, but Parker would probably be gone by the end of the week, so there was no need to waste time and energy on some (albeit cute) nerd bullied by a jock.

Except, Wade really didn't like bullies. So when he saw Parker being pushed around violently, he reacted on instinct. The jock was on the ground before the kid's back hit the wall. "That's enough," he said, looking down on the bully. Wade was fully aware that the kid must have been shitting his pants by then – mother nature wasn't too generous in the looks department.

"Get away from me, you freak!" There you go. Wade resisted a sigh and turned his back on the boy on the ground to check on the one against the wall. He heard a scoff behind him. "Good luck getting a thank you out of him. Freaks." Wade didn't turn around to watch the loser leave – his eyes were fixed on the boy in front of him. He reached out his hand, but it got slapped away.

Parker looked angry. Well, at least it wasn't some variation of fear or disgust, so Wade wasn't going to complain. Anger was a healthy emotion for a teenage boy; too bad he obviously had difficulties with channeling it properly. "Are you okay?" Parker gave him a short dirty look before nodding and storming off. "Rude little fucker," Wade muttered and went in the opposite direction.

He found a thank-you card in his locker room the next morning and couldn't help but smile when he opened it and saw, "Don't fucking do it ever again. Peter." seemingly scribbled in a hurry. The kid obviously had some mouth on him, so why wouldn't he use it if he wasn't using his fists? Wade liked a mystery no more than the next guy but he was intrigued.

Unsurprisingly, he found Peter alone, munching slowly on his sandwich, probably made by his mother's loving hands, and Wade sniggered. "Is there a Batman lunchbox here somewhere? Seriously, you couldn't seem more out of place here if you tried. I'm Wade. You didn't catch it when you were busy being rude and ungrateful back then, so- Are you even listening to me?"

Wade had a tendency to talk way more than necessary or even socially acceptable, so it took him a while to realize Peter wasn't showing any signs of even being aware of his presence. He was looking ahead, blinking from time to time and chewing like some sort of cow. Wade called out his name and stepped closer – again, absolutely no reaction.

When he put his hand on his arm, Peter jumped up, startled, and dropped his lunch, and Wade started laughing hysterically. "Man, the look on your face, how zoned out did you have to be, oh em gee, I'm gonna die!" After wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked at Peter and the smile fell off his face; the kid was shaken up and his breathing was quick and shallow.

"Shit, did I really scare you? I was talking to you and you didn't react, sorry, are you okay? Do you need a paper bag? A bucket? A hand job? I mean, a hug?" Wade was rambling, he knew, but Peter's head was between his knees and his shoulders were shaking. Only when he straightened up, Wade realized he was laughing. "Oh thank god, accidentally killing you would-"

Wade had to cut himself off because Peter started frantically move his fingers into shapes. "No way. You're deaf? Well, that explains a lot. Lack of terror-filled screaming in my face for one. No, that actually still remains a mystery. But the- the thing with the- guy. Wow, Wade, smooth as fuck, he's gonna think you're retarded. Ha, he won't! You won't! You can't hear me!"

Peter's smirk was definitely too smug for Wade's comfort. "You can read lips, can't you." Peter nodded with a soundless chuckle. "So you do think I'm retarded." Peter shook his head and smiled, making a sign for what Wade chose to believe was, 'extremely funny and charming'. He sure hoped he didn't say that one out loud – that would be pathetic, even for him.

But Peter was frowning at his sandwich, now lying on the ground, so Wade's reputation was probably safe. "Was it any good?" he asked, before remembering Peter wasn't looking at him. He waved his hand in front of his face to get his attention and repeated the question. Peter shook his head and mimicked gagging which earned him an awkward laugh. Yeah, awkward…

Because what was Wade supposed to do without one thing he was good at? Talking was his forte; he could use it to distract others from, well, everything else about him. Having someone look at him to hear him was the exact opposite of having some listen to him tonot look at him and it just wouldn't do. Wade would have to tell Peter to get lost; he was good at that, so no problem.

But the they started hanging out and Wade couldn't bring himself to cut Peter off. Even though he suspected at first that Peter was around, at least partially, to avoid Flash. That was the bully's name. They got into a fight that somehow escalated enough to grant them community service. His Aunt was so broken-up about it that Peter promised himself he would never do something like that again.

Wade learned all that from Peter's texts; it was kind of impossible to refuse giving your number to someone who couldn't communicate with you otherwise because you never learned to sign. Not that Peter ever asked for his number, Wade just got a text one evening and never found out how. Not that he minded, because Peter turned out to be a pretty "talkative" person.

Wade learned a lot; he found out Peter's favorite food was hot dogs, that his best friend was ridiculously rich, that he was raised by his uncle and aunt, that he loved puns, and that he has won every science fair he ever took part in. He learned that Peter sometimes wondered what would happen to someone bitten by a radioactive spider and what Wade's voice sounded like.

He also learned what it was like to be really listened to. Ironically. Because as awesome as it was initially to just talk his ass off knowing he didn't have to shut up, or to just confess so many things without having to worry about consequences, and to laugh off Peter's exasperated eye-rolls when he realized Wade was talking to himself again, when Peterwanted to listen to him…

Wade wasn't prepared for something like that. He couldn't deal with someone watching him so intently, or smiling so warmly, or touching him so gently to get his attention. He would joke about ridiculously expressive eyebrows, but the truth was Wade learned to read Peter's face and it scared him. He was afraid of falling for someone who would be out of his life in a matter of days.

The closer they were to the end of Peter's sentence, the worse Wade felt. The tension between them was almost tangible but neither did anything about it. On the last day, they were eating crappy hot dogs and Peter was pouting so adorably Wade's heart was threatening to burst. He put his hand on Peter's shoulder and grabbed his ear when he refused to look at him directly.

"Hey, I learn to sign 'fuck you', wanna see?" Peter frowned and pouted even harder, so Wade figured the nonchalant and dismissive attitude wasn't the way to his heart. So of course he decided to continue in that manner. "I don't get what you're fussing about, you're a free elf now! You should be dancing around in your underwear or at least buying celebratory drinks for everyone."

Peter got up suddenly and shot Wade an angry look before storming off. Wade groaned and got up to follow him. Calling out his name was stupid and useless and would attract everyone else's attention so, obviously, that was what Wade chose to do. When he finally caught up and grabbed Peter's elbow to spun him around and face him, his knees almost gave out under him.

Peter's cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shining with frustration and disappointment, and Wade wanted to kiss him so badly he could scream. Suddenly Peter's fist collided with Wade's chest – once, twice, three times. Then he started signing furiously, making those pained aborted noises that made it difficult for Wade to focus on the signs. Yeah, he was learning a bit, so what.

"Peter, Peter, slow down," he pleaded, moving his hands placatingly. Peter's hands slowed down but their movement seemed even more angry – the sound of shaking fingers colliding with each other was painful, but he needed to hear this. That Peter thought Wade liked him. That Peter didn't understand why Wade was so cold and distant, or why weren't they talking about- this.

Wade's hands covered Peter's carefully and Peter's labored breath started to level out. He was still looking at Wade accusingly, but there was a silent plea hidden in his eyes and Wade had to close his to think straight. He didn't know what he wanted to do, or what he wanted to say, or even how. He just knew he didn't have much time to make sure Peter would stay, right there, with him.

He opted for an awkward but passionate kiss, since it always worked out in the movies, but this decision only resulted in bashing their heads together and almost stumbling to the ground in a big sad pile of pathetic. 'How to tell someone you like them', by Wade Wilson: head-butt them and marry them while they're unconscious, just remember to draw the eyes on their closed eyelids.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Wade whined when Peter looked at him with one eye, holding his forehead and wincing. "OK, that was obviously a bad idea. Give me another shot. I gotta show you something." Peter sighed in defeat and nodded at Wade, who cracked his knuckles in preparation. "I've been practicing this for a while, so I shouldn't accidentally tell you I fucked your guinea pig."

Peter snorted and wiped his nose, grinning like an idiot, and it made Wade so happy he wanted to punch himself in the face. "Okay, here goes nothing." He knew his signing was stiff and clumsy and as slow as he wanted to take pulling Peter's pants off him, but he had one job, and by god, he would see it through. I like you. Let's hold hands and have sex on a bearskin rug. There, smooth as fuck.

Or, as Peter's face suggested, completely inappropriate and crass, but kind of endearing? Sure, Wade would take completely inappropriate and crass, but kind of endearing. He would probably take anything as long as it made Peter smile like that at him. Wade released the breath he didn't know he was holding and his face split with a grin as he watched Peter lace their fingers together.

"Want me to kiss it better?" he whispered when Peter rubbed the bump on his head. Peter only smirked and shook his head. Wade absolutely wasn't bummed out about it and he definitely didn't have to hold back a high-pitched giggle when Peter closed his eyes and used his index finger to tap on his half-smiling, half-pursed lips. Wade did the only thing he could – he kissed that smug smirk off.