"Guys? Is this really the time to be discussing this?"

Spidey scowled at Iron Man, and smacked one of the AIM guys in the face, "Do you mind? We're having a conversation!"

"Are we?" Deadpool snapped, kicking one of the goons in the stomach.

"Oh, here comes Mr Passive-Agressive again!" Spidey yelled back. Somewhere over-head, the AIM facility alarm went off.

"Seriously," Iron Man chirped in, blasting one of the entrances closed, "This is just awkard guys. I really don't want to be in the middle of this. Can we just get the tech and skadaddle?"

"Normally I wouldn't agree with you tin-man," Deadpool chimed, "but I'm not all that comfortable discussing the bedroom in front of a guy who got his heart from following the yellow brick road."

"What the hell does that mean?" Stark asked.

"It means he doesn't want to talk about it again." Spidey answered, "because he's so ashamed of me that he won't even touch me."

Even the AIM guys went quiet and stopped attacking, a muffled "ooo-oo-oo" came from a few of them. Deadpool had always liked the AIM guys, they had that Star Wars stormtrooper incidental humour to them. But hell, work was work, cash was cash, and SHIELD had agreed to pay for once.

Spidey was breathing like he might hyper-ventilate or something. Jesus, how could he explain to him how much he cared about him? If he lost himself to what he wanted to do with him, to him, then things would go bad. Really bad.

Another group of AIM dudes hustled into the warehouse space and it was back to battles. Deadpool did a little more unaliving than was perhaps necessary in the time following, but man did it help him get some stuff out.