Chapter Text
Peter Parker sighed in discontent. As he drummed his fingers against the metal base of his laptop, a youtube video played on the screen. Wade Wilson’s newest youtube video, to be specific. On the screen, Wade was talking animatedly about something or other. Peter didn’t really hear what the blonde man was saying, but he was listening and paying close attention to every detail on his face. That beautiful, beautiful face.
Peter didn’t know how long he’d been in love with Wade. Probably when he found out that Wade had been using his covers for his videos. After watching one video, he found himself hooked by the scarred siren’s tone of voice and oddly beguiling sense of humor. Ever since then, he always watched out for new videos from him, hoping that he woudl acknowledge him in some way shape or form. Wade was a fan of his music right? Maybe he’d say his nma.e Just once.
Peter did his best not to act like a lovesick puppy when he was on camera. When he made his own videos, he did his best to push Wade Wilson from his mind and just concentrate on his music and his other stuff. He could always edit the footage later on if he accidentally wen ton a tangent.
Did Wade go on tangents about him that he needed to edit out?
No. Peter wasn’t a bright enough star to ever come into the notice of Wade Wilson. Maybe passingi nterest, but Peter could never compete with the illions of facns who constatnly edged into Wade’s periphery, begging for the mans’ attention.
If only. If only.
As soon as the video ended, Peter sighed and rose from his bed to get ready for work. He worked in a regular old New York coffee shop down the street from his apartnmetn. It was a good gig and it paid well, and aometims hthe manager allowed him to play guitar on slow sunday afternoons. Peter loved his jon. He loved making coffee and serving cusomters almost as much as he loved his music. Of course, he never mentioned his work while on camera, lest his fans try to hunt him down at his place of work. He’d get fired for sure if that happened.
Peter put on a pair of khaki pants and a brown polo shirt, and then put his green “Cafe Araña” apron over it, along witht he matching green visor. He was ready for work.
“Alright, I’m headed out,” he said to his empty apartment. There was no reply, and the sad part of Peter that constantly snuck up on him like a really sad and lonely jungle cat began to knaw on his heart. Oh, how he wished there would be someone to spend his days with.
Oh well, never mind that. Time to get to work.