Work Text:
Wade Wilson a.k.a. Deadpool.
The infamous, feared, deadly Mercenary. He was a highly experienced killer, able to take out the worst of the bad guys. He was the absolute best in his business and also the best paid.
But all that didn’t help him now that he was laying on his back and his sole purpose in life seemed to be sweating.
His breath came in harsh little huffs, he could barely crack open one eye, but there wasn’t so much to see other than the ceiling. How he had made it back to the bed after saying goodbye to Peter he would probably never figure out.
The second after waking up he noticed the slight burn under his skin that indicated a very bad day ahead of him. But he’d ignored it, forced himself to smile and send Peter on his way to university, where he had a huge test today. After the door had closed behind his boyfriend, Wade must’ve dragged himself back to the bed, where he slept in again, too exhausted to even take any precautions.
Now he regretted his earlier weakness. He was laying on wet sheets, drenched with sweat. His whole body seemed to burn, he could see his skin moving as the healing factor worked overtime.
He was in so much pain, he was sure he had passed out at least three times before he could even think about anything. Wade groaned when he thought about how long the way to the bathroom would be in his condition, but he wished for nothing more than a cold bath. Also, his cremes and bathing oils that would at least soothe his body were in the cabinet over the sink.
He had to move.
About an hour later, when he found himself waking up once again, he thought about getting up again, but never made it further than sliding over to the edge of the bed.
**********
When he took the first step outside the university campus, Peter took a big, relieving breath. The test had gone so well that he was now grinning all over his face. And if it really went as well as he calculated, he might be able to jump another semester next year.
With a quick glance to his surroundings, the young hero pondered using his webs to get home faster. Then again he was in such a good mood that he wanted to enjoy the sunlight a bit longer and decided to walk at least half of the way.
Just in time for lunch – as he promised Wade – Peter made it back home, actually taking the stairs this time. The appartment was weirdly silent – no music or loud noises that he normally associated with Wade present – so he looked around after entering the living room.
“Wade?” he shouted and wondered where his Merc could be, since they agreed on having Tacos for lunch when Peter was back from uni.
Shrugging off his backpack, the young hero went to open a window and let some nice warm air in, bevore heading to the kitchen. Maybe his boyfriend noticed something missing for lunch, or he’d gotten a call for a job, who knew.
When all the ingredients were chopped and prepared, Peter looked at his watch again and wondered if he should call Wade. He shrugged again, then decided to get changed into something more comfortable.
The door to the bedroom had been firmly closed until then, which wasn’t unusual. Believe it or not, Peter had actually managed to teach Wade how to keep an appartment nice and tidy, which included not letting anyone see onto your – most of the time unmade – bed.
What he saw when he opened the door had his heart stutter.
Wade was lying face-down on the bed, the sheets rumpled, only dressed in his shorts with his skin an ever moving mess of scars and bumps.
“Oh God!” Peter gasped and ran over to the bed. His first instinct was to check for a pulse on Wade’s arm that hung from the bed, but as he did it Peter realized how stupid that was. Of course he had a pulse, Wade couldn’t die.
He was probably just passed out and by touching his heated, clammy skin Peter knew exactly why.
It was one of the bad days again, and Wade’d probably known about it when he kissed him goodbye this morning. And still the Merc hadn’t said a word and just went back to bed, where he suffered alone and eventually must’ve fallen unconcious.
“Wade! Can you hear me?” he asked and hovered his hands for a moment, not sure where he should touch. He settled for a shoulder and rolled his boyfriend onto his back, which only earned him a pained groan.
Wade’s forehead was sticky with sweat and he was pretty pale under all the scars. He started to breathe heavier, most likely becoming aware of just how much pain he was in.
“Okay ... okay, it’s gonna be okay, soon,” Peter mumbled while his heart pounded and had blood rushing in his ears.
Wade just sighed again, not really awake, yet, but enough to hear him.
Hesistantly, Peter went into the bathroom and drew a cool bath – not too cold, but sufficiently for Wade’s feverish skin. Then the young hero stumbled over to the cabinet above the sink and several packets of painkillers and some cold medication fell out as he looked for Wade’s medications.
There, finally, he found the oils for the bath and let some drops fall into the water. Then he set up a stack of very soft towels and cremes to soothe Wade’s skin further.
Peter knew that all those things weren’t doing much, but it took the edge of at least. When he thought he had everything ready, he shut off the water and went back to the bedroom.
Next to the bed there was a water bottle and Peter opened it quickly. It wasn’t cold anymore, but he wanted to get some fluid back into Wade’s body before moving him.
So he liftet the Merc’s head gently and coaxed a few sips of water into the barely awake man.
When it was time to carry Wade over to the bathroom, Peter thanked all gods and Thor for his strength. Any other day he would be more than happy to have this muscled body weigh him down, but today his legs still trembled from the shock of finding Wade like this, so he was glad when they’d made it.
As gently as possible Peter lowered his boyfriend into the tub and placed a rolled up towel under his neck.
“Wade?” he tried again after a few seconds, but got no response. So Peter settled for sweeping the sweaty face and bald head with a wet cloth.
Just when he was patting the irritated skin dry again, Wade groaned and slowly opened his eyes.
“Hi, there. How are you feeling?” Peter wanted to know in a low voice, just in case Wade also had a headache.
“Uh ... not ... not good ...,” the Merc choked out and Peter gave him some more water to drink. Then, after a few more minutes where Wade seemed to wake up fully, he began applying a thick white ointment to his bald head and face, carefully leaving out the eyes and mouth.
“Mmmh s’good,” Wade mumbled and Peter smiled when the older man lifted one hand out of the water to stroke along his naked arm.
When he was done, Peter crossed his arms on the edge of the tub and sat on the ground, watching his boyfriend.
“How long has this been going on? Since we woke up?”, he enquired and knew the answer when Wade looked away for a second.
“Kinda.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You ... had this important test ... and I didn’t wanna ... distract you ‘n stuff. Today was important for you.”
Peter made an impatient clicking noise with his tongue while letting his hand sink into the water to check that it wasn’t getting too cold.
“But you are more important!” he made clear and Wade rolled his head to the side to look at him. He opened his mouth and Peter knew he wanted to object, wanted to say something on how he isn’t worth anything, but the younger man cut him right off.
He placed two fingers on Wade’s lips, sealing them.
“No. You are.”
Wade’s expression softened and he managed a shaky smile, as Peter chose to not notice the teary shimmer in his lover’s eyes.