The first time Peter heard Wade say 'eh,' was also the first time he kissed him. He couldn't help it. Wade had helped Peter out with Rhino and invited himself over, bringing alcohol and introducing a "zero tolerance for having a stick up your ass" policy. He had the audacity to be funny and charming, too. And at some point of Wade's endless chatter, he said it. Peter only had one beer, but it was enough for him to cast aside most of his inhibitions and admit to himself it was the most adorable thing he'd ever heard. And apparently, it was also enough for him to lean in and press a hesitant kiss to Wade's lips. He felt Wade tense, and immediately wanted to hit himself. That was stupid. He didn't have enough to drink to use it as an excuse. He pulled away slowly, not to show how embarrassed or mortified he was, and cleared his throat, avoiding Wade's eyes.

"I-I'm g-gonna go-o," he stammered. Oh God, he stammered. Peter wouldn't want Wade to think a one small one-sided kiss had such an effect on Peter, when in reality, he was just pretty afraid of Wade trying to kill him. Not that this was the best time for salvaging the remains of his pride. Maybe one day. He'll be like, Oh yeah, remember that one time I stammered after I kissed you? It was because I thought you'd kill me, totally nothing to do with your lips, and- God, it sucked to be seventeen. "I'll… yeah, I'm just gonna…"

"It's your place," Wade interrupted, before Peter could make even bigger idiot out of himself, unusually softly, as he was nervous.

"Right. Right, so. You go. Yeah, you'd better go, Wade." Peter finally looked straight at Wade, hoping he looked more determined than desperate.

"I don't wanna go," Wade muttered, getting up from the couch. This time Peter was the one to tense. He swallowed audibly and tried to protest once more, but his throat was too dry. "You surprised me, that's all. Let's try that again, eh?"

Well, crap. Peter's stomach lurched, and Peter lurched too, to kiss Wade again. And that's how Peter got himself a mercenary boyfriend.

.

From that evening on, whenever Wade said 'eh,' Peter had to kiss him. No exceptions, it was almost a compulsion, a Pavlovian reaction. It didn't really happen all that often and if Wade had caught on, he didn't let Peter know. Still, it happened every time. Peter had honestly no idea what to do about it. Did Daily Bugle had an advice column?Dear J.J, I can't help but to get horny and kiss my boyfriend every time he acts Canadian, how do I stop? It didn't matter if they were alone or in public. And Peter could take all the Jailbait-and-the-Beast fuss any day, he didn't care what people said. But it didn't matter if they were Wade and Peter or Deadpool and Spider-Man either. Now that? That was a problem. Because all was good and well as long as this weirdkink resulted in sloppy make-outs in a dark alley after a successful crime-fighting and considerate amount of bragging from Wade. But what if it happened mid-fight? Like, right now? Wade was a chatterbox even when he kicked people's asses. Especially when he did that. Would Peter be able to control himself?

"Spidey, you with us?" Wade called. "Doc over here is feeling neglected!"

"Coming!" Peter webbed unconscious Shocker to the wall and rushed to help Wade with Doctor Octopus. He gracefully landed on his back, punching his harness.

"You bet, eh!" Wade grinned filthily and Peter shuddered. Well, crap. "What?"

Peter kicked Doc Oc in the face and grabbed Wade's shoulders before he even hit the ground. He pulled Wade's mask up to his nose, doing the same with his, and kissed him. He felt another shudder go through him as Wade wound his arm around his waist and deepened the kiss.

"We need to talk," he rasped as he pulled away. He fix their masks and proceeded to webbing all of Octopus' limbs to the sidewalk. "Now."

They didn't. Somewhere between all the kissing and groping, Peter forgot.

.

Peter meant to talk to Wade eventually. Only it was considerably difficult to brace yourself for all the teasing that would come. The thought of admitting to Wade that he couldn't keep it in his pants whenever he as much as heard 'eh,' and asking him to stop saying it made his head spin. It would be a living hell. Wade would never ever let him live it down. At first, Wade would say it at every chance he got, only to embarrass Peter and get into his pants. For Wade, it would be an ideal situation, two birds at one stone. Then, when the novelty wore off, Wade would constantly remind Peter of his weakness, Peter could hear it loud and clear already. He wasn't ready. He was actually more prepared for compromising himself during battle than for Wade's teasing. That's how mortifying the thought was. Whoever thought Peter was being unreasonable, had obviously never met Wade Wilson. And speaking of meeting Wade Wilson, Aunt May was about to. They were heading to her house, all dressed-up and a bit tense, not talking much. Wade was buzzing with nervousness and fidgeting slightly.

"What if she won't like me?" Wade finally burst. Peter chuckled involuntarily. Well, Deadpool panicking before meeting an elderly lady was undeniably ridiculous. "Don't laugh, or I'm going back home."

"Sorry, sorry. It's just nerves."

"See?! Even you're afraid she'll hate me! This was such a bad idea…"

"Wade, calm down, everything's gonna be fine. Aunt May is a saint, okay? She endured every possible kind of shit I've put her through, and never let me feel inadequate. Trust me, you'll be fine."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise. Just… don't talk about your job. Or my job. Don't talk about your…friends. Or your enemies. And your past. And your plans for the future. Actually… don't talk at all. And you'll be peachy."

"Asshole…"

Peter smiled and took Wade's hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly as they finally approached the front porch. He was glad when Wade squeezed his hand back, because gods knew how much he needed reassurance himself. He rang the doorbell and allowed himself a one last silent prayer for Wade not to use The Word in front of his aunt. May opened the door with a sunny smile, and moved her eyes from Peter to Wade.

"Good afternoon, Aunt May," Wade sing-songed. "Beautiful day we're having, eh?"

Well, crap.