#thank god i can jump around in time in these ficlets and write some established relationship

[missdaviswrites]

8. Music

John opened the door to the flat to the sound of music. Not unusual: Sherlock had been playing the violin for Rosie since she was a newborn, and sometimes John caught them dancing around the sitting room together, Rosie laughing as he swooped her about, safe in his arms. But today was different—today Sherlock was singing along with the music. And it was Christmas music. Not traditional carols, either, but popular Christmas songs, the kind they played in every shop all season long. The kind Sherlock professed to hate, when he admitted knowing them at all.

"Are you singing Wham! to my daughter?"

Sherlock froze, his back to John, then turned quickly to face him, lowering Rosie to the floor so she could crawl across the room to him. "It wasn't my choice. Rosie likes George Michael."

"Rosie likes George Michael?"

"Ye-yes. His voice. Is very pleasing to her. She really likes this song. Mrs. Hudson first exposed her to it, of course."

"Of course." John set his work satchel down so he could pick up Rosie, who was trying to climb his leg. "Why do you know who George Michael is but not Madonna?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John before stalking across the room to turn off the music. "Madonna doesn't have any Christmas songs."

"Mm, I think she did a cover of Santa Baby." John bounced Rosie once on his hip and decided not to try to sing a snippet of that song.

"Are you quite done?" Sherlock flopped onto the sofa and Rosie immediately began squirming in John's arms, reaching toward him.

"I guess I am." He carried Rosie over to the sofa and plopped her down on Sherlock's chest, then turned around and walked to the desk so he could sort through the growing pile of post. "It's okay if you like that song, you know. I like it, too. Yeah, it's overplayed, but I always did like George Michael's voice. Not to mention how cute he was." He chose his words carefully, and wanted nothing more than to see Sherlock's reaction to them, but didn't dare turn to look. "You've got quite a few bills piling up here. Want me to stick around for a while and pay them for you?" That gave him a reason to turn, but when he did, Sherlock's attention seemed to be wholly focused on Rosie, who was giggling as she pulled at the buttons on his shirt.

John swallowed back a sigh. It had been days since Sherlock had been abducted and held chained up for hours, days since John had found him and taken care of him afterward. Days since they'd touched each other. He was sure that Sherlock had welcomed his touch, that night, but maybe that was only a byproduct of his kidnapping ordeal: a lingering effect of the drugs, or simply the fact that he'd needed comforting. Maybe he didn't want John to touch him under normal circumstances. He wished he knew. He wished he could just ask. But he couldn't—it had taken all his courage just to casually mention that he'd once thought George Michael attractive. And Sherlock hadn't replied, hadn't agreed or disagreed or pursued a conversation about how exactly John defined his sexuality. Maybe he really wasn't interested in knowing.

John grimaced and picked up a pile of envelopes. "You keep her entertained for a while. I'll make dinner and take care of these bills while it's cooking."

"Sounds good," Sherlock said.

Right. It sounded good. John would take care of all the little daily details that Sherlock neglected while Sherlock looked after Rosie, one of the few mundane tasks that he did willingly and even seemed to enjoy. John should just move back in; then they could act like they were married in every way but one. Maybe that would be better than nothing. At least his commute would be shorter. He sighed again, not caring if it was audible this time, and headed into the kitchen to start dinner.

Read all the ficlets here: Welcome Christmas

[remywrites5]

Hey there! I really love your fics, and ficlets, they brighten my day every time I read or re- read one! I'm sort of having a rough day, and I went through all your wolfstar, because wolfstar is one of my favourites, and then I really got into spideypool, but it seems I can't find that many good fics out there! Is there any chance you could write something where peter gets kidnapped because he photographed something he shouldn't? Only if you have free time of course!

I’m sorry you were having a tough day! Again this ask is from forever ago but I hope all is well. Thanks for you prompt! 

******          

 This was just…well…humiliating was the word that came to mind. Peter had been kidnapped –or abducted seemed more appropriate because he wasn’t a child no matter what Mr. Stark said. It wasn’t his fault that these big, muscle-y guys had jumped him as Peter. He couldn’t exactly fight them off without giving away his secret identity. It’s not like mild-mannered Peter Parker could fight off five guys.

           He had a feeling he knew exactly what this was about too. He’d been snooping around Oscorp and had taken some pictures of them doing human testing for some new kind of drug that appeared to be some kind aggression hormone based on the way the subjects freaked out. That was all the world needed, more Hulks. He’d hadn’t had a chance to sell the pictures to the Daily Bugle yet because Jamison was a grade A asshole who had chosen to haggle with Peter over the price.

           Now he was chained to a chair and he probably could have busted out of them if he’d given it his whole strength but again Peter Parker can’t break out of chains. So Peter sat stewing in a ball of frustration when he heard gunshots. His eyes widened and he wondered if he was going to have to blow his secret identity just to not get shot in the fucking head by whoever was coming.

           He was just about to break the chains when the door swung open and in strolled Deadpool. “You coulda had a bad bitch! Noncommittal!”

           Peter groaned and shook his head. If the Avengers found out he was rescued by Deadpool, of all people, he would never live it down. The only saving grace was that Deadpool didn’t know Peter’s secret identity.

           “Oooh!” Wade said, holstering his guns. “I must have walked into the pantry because I just found me a snack!”

           Peter rolled his eyes. “A little help, please?”

           Wade cocked his head to the side. “Say, aren’t you the guy who takes pictures of Spider-man? Do you know him? Can you get me an autograph?”

           “Why would I know him just because I take pictures of him?” Peter asked, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat. “Do you think everyone that works for US Weekly knows Taylor Swift?”

           “You’re my looooover!” Wade sang out.

           “Can we focus?” Peter asked impatiently. Although he knew Deadpool had a thing for leaving a stack of bodies in his wake, he didn’t want to chance that someone might come along.

           “Right, right, more helping, less talking,” Wade said, going over and inspecting the chains. “I need a key. Hold on, I think I killed a guy with some down the hallway. Don’t go anywhere, sexy!”

           “Where am I meant to go?” Peter growled after him in frustration.

           He sat there with Taylor Swift stuck in his head while he waited for Wade to return and rescue him. This pretending to be helpless thing was the worst. He was about to just break the chains and claim a rat ate them when Deadpool reappeared. “Fancy meeting you here!”

           “What are you even doing here, anyway?” Peter asked as Wade unlocked the chains. “I doubt you came here just to save me.”

           “I mean, if I had known a cutie like you was in peril I would have done this job pro-bono, but Justin Hammer paid me a lot of dineros to sneak in here and steal some science-y information, and also kill a bunch of people. But, since you’re here and I’m here and I’m about to be filthy rich, why don’t you and I do dinner?”

           Peter shot Wade an absolutely baffled expression. “Does this really seem like the time to be asking me out?”

           “No time like the present, baby boy,” Wade said with a shrug. “I don’t wanna wait for our lives to be over!”

           “Please for the love of god, stop singing,” Peter begged, looking up and down the hallway to try and figure out where his camera might be stashed. He supposed he would just have to go room by room, which would be much quicker if he could lose Deadpool and go about it as Spider-man.

           “Not a fan of the creek, huh?” Wade asked, following Peter as he took a left and began opening doors one after the other. ���How do you feel about Golden Girls?”

           “Wade,” Peter said, walking over and putting his hand over Wade’s mouth. “Is there anyone alive left on this ship?”

           Wade shook his head no.

           Peter groaned. “Shit! This is going to take forever to find my camera.”

           “I saw a camera!” Wade said as soon as Peter removed his hand and began his search again. “Come with me!”

           Wade grabbed Peter and hauled him over his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. “I can walk you know!” Peter said, huffing indignantly.

           “I know,” Wade said with a grin that stretched his mask. “I just wanted a close up look at that ass. Do you do yoga? Pilates? It’s fairly toned for such a nerd.”

           “Wade?” Peter said as evenly as he could.

           “Yeah?”

           “Get your hand off my ass.”

           “Whoops.”

                                                                       ***

           Once he got back to his apartment, Peter posted the pictures on the internet for free, not wanting the hassle of fighting with Jamison over them. At least the word would get out about what Oscorp was doing. More than anything, Peter just wanted to put the whole ordeal behind him.

           Which was extremely difficult to do considering Deadpool was currently breaking into his apartment through the window, and making a fuck ton of noise while he was at it.

           ‘Hey Petey!” Wade said, tumbling into Peter’s bedroom.

           Peter watched Wade scramble to his feet. “So you found out my name, huh?”

           “Yup!” Wade said, strutting around the room like he was proud of himself. He wasn’t in his full Deadpool gear, just sweatpants and a hoodie with his Deadpool mask.

           “And you’re here because…” Peter gestured for Wade to fill in the blanks because Peter really had no clue.

           “I’m your new bodyguard!” Wade said, puffing up his chest. “And don’t worry, I know you’re a struggling college kid, so you’ll only have to pay me in food. Or kisses. Whichever one you prefer.”

           “Why do I need a bodyguard?” Peter asked, watching Wade walk about his room and rifle through his stuff.

           “Word on the street is that Norman Osborne is pissed about the pictures you took and posted online,” Wade explained, holding up a pair of Peter’s underwear that had Cap’s shield on them. Peter jumped up and shoved them back in the drawer before closing it forcefully. “So I’m here to offer my services.”

           Peter chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. If Osborne was gunning for him then it might not be a bad idea to have some backup. Getting abducted had been really stupid and at least with Deadpool around the chances of that happening were significantly decreased.

           “Fine,” Peter said, holding his hand out to Wade. “You’re hired.”

           “Oh Petey!” Wade said, ignoring his hand and pulling him into a bear hug. “You won’t regret this!”

           Peter doubted that very much.

                                                           ***

           It had been three weeks of round the clock Deadpool and nothing had happened. No attacks, no retribution, no nothing. The worst part of all was that Peter was kind of starting to…like Wade? Having him around wasn’t quite as annoying as he had thought. It was actually nice to have some company for once and despite what he had said, Wade was the one who provided the food most of the time. He did mention the kissing more than a few times but it obviously never amounted to anything.

           Which is why Peter really hated what he was about to do. “There was no threat against my life, was there?” he asked, already having a feeling about the answer.

           Wade looked around for a moment to avoid answering the question and then slumped down. “No,” he grumbled.

           Peter huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I mean, I’m relieved but why did you lie?”

           Wade shrugged. “I wanted a reason to see you again.”

           Peter laughed. “We could have just hung out, Wade, you didn’t have to make me fear for my life.”

           “People don’t really hang out with me if they can help it,” Wade informed him unhappily.

           Peter figured that was probably true. He thought about all the times he had blown Wade off as Spider-man, declining his offers of epic team ups. Maybe Wade had a point and it was kind of hard for Peter to stay mad at him.

           “Hey Wade,” Peter said, scooting closer to him. “You can come over whenever you want. Just no more busting in on me in the shower, okay?”

           “I had to make sure you were safe!”

           “We just established that I wasn’t in danger!”

           “Better safe than sorry, Petey.”

                                                                       ***

           Peter was a little offended when Deadpool kissed Spider-man, which made no fucking sense because he was Spider-man. But Wade didn’t know that and something about that hurt. Like Wade was cheating on him with him, and the whole thing made Peter’s head hurt.

           Peter had texted Deadpool for help patrolling the city one night, wanting to see Wade and figuring he could make up excuses to see him. It only seemed fair. They’d stopped a bodega from getting robbed and a purse snatcher. It hadn’t been the most exciting night but it had been fun. When they sat down on a roof to eat their hard earned tacos, Wade had pounced the moment Peter had rolled his mask up.

           Peter found himself flat on his back on the roof with Wade’s tongue slipping into his mouth. He would have enjoyed it if he hadn’t been so offended on behalf of his alter-ego.

           “Mm, Petey,” Wade murmured, sucking on Peter’s lower lip.

           “Wait,” Peter said, shoving Wade off of him. “You know?”

           “Puh-lease,” Wade said, rolling his eyes. “Like I wouldn’t recognize that Spider-man and the guy I’ve been spending all my time with lately are the same? Not to mention that ass.”

           “Oh,” Peter said dumbly, propping himself up on his elbows. “Well, that’s okay then.”

           “So we can go back to the kissing part, then?” Wade asked, crawling back over Peter. “I mean you do owe me for three weeks of service.”

           “You didn’t do anything!”

           “I protected your sweet ass, Petey,” Wade said, nipping at Peter’s chin. “Made sure it wasn’t violated by nefarious persons unknown.”

           “The only nefarious person my ass was in danger from was you,” Peter quipped, capturing Wade’s lips again.

           “Mm,” Wade hummed, cupping Peter’s face in his hands. “I’ll violate that ass any time, baby boy.”

           “If I let you do that I’m pretty sure that makes me a prostitute,” Peter said, laughing softly. “Selling my body for good and services.”

           “It worked for Julia Roberts.”

           “Are you going to scale a fire escape with some flowers and profess your love to me?”

           “Any time, any place, you just name the day, Petey.”

           “White limo too, or it doesn’t count,” Peter teased, wrapping his legs around Wade.

           “Obviously,” Wade said, kissing Peter breathless. After several moments he pulled back. “Although I think our story is more like The Bodyguard.”

           Peter laughed. “I’ve never seen it.”

           “What??” Wade shook his head. “Whitney Huston? Kevin Costner. And I-I-I will always loooove youuuu.”

           Peter grinned. “Wanna go home and not watch it while we make-out on my couch?”

           Wade matched his smile and then stole Peter’s breath away with another kiss. “I fucking love you.”

           “Love you too,” Peter said, pressing kisses against Wade’s scarred cheek. “I don’t know if I ever said it but thanks for rescuing me.”

           “And you rescued me right back.”

           “Nice Pretty Woman call back.”

           “It’s what I do, Petey.”

           Peter gently pushed Wade off of him and grabbed the bag of tacos. He put his arm around Wade’s waist and held him close. “Come on, let’s go home.” Peter shot out a web to the building across the street and took of swinging in the direction of his apartment with Wade signing “Rewrite the Stars from the Greatest Showman in his ear the entire time.

           Peter couldn’t even find it in him to mind it all that much.