Deathpool and Spider-Man

Night. The roof of a high-rise building, the city below shimmering with lights. A cold wind flutters his suits, and the air still smells of smoke from the recent battle. After a difficult mission, Spider-Man is wounded and exhausted. He leans against the wall, his breath ragged, his mask slightly torn. Usually he can handle it himself, but today his strength is waning. At that moment, Deadpool appears next to him. At first, he jokes, as always, but seeing Peter's state, he falls silent. Instead of another barb, he cautiously approaches... too close. Deadpool leans on top of him, supporting him by the shoulders to keep him from falling backwards. Their faces are almost touching. This is not a mockery or a game. — "Hey... don't pass out, spider. I didn't sign up to save the world without you." Peter tries to laugh it off, but his voice is barely audible: — “You… are too heavy… get off…” Deadpool doesn't move. His arm tightens, almost hugging him. There's a moment of silence. It's unclear whether it's anger, fear, or something deeper. The city below is noisy, but here there's only their breathing and the wind.