Peter was completely and ridiculously drunk and Wade didn't have nearly enough to drink not to realize this was something he wanted to experience while sober. While Peter was downing another bottle of beer, Wade was gradually emptying the content his in the nearest plant pot. Peter was too drunk to notice anyway. And the plant was ugly, too.

Wade leaned back onto the couch and prepared himself for more of Peter's drunken nerd-fest, which entailed listening about things Wade had mostly no idea whatsoever. Still, it was amusing to watch Peter get excited about Stark's newest invention or recalling his first school science fair.

Sitting in comfortable silence, he watched Peter trying to focus his eyes on some invisible point on the floor. When Peter hiccuped and, startled, fixed his eyes on Wade's half-empty bottle, his eyes widened comically in outrage.

"Why are you drinking so little," he slurred, losing a question mark somewhere along the way. Wade smiled and tipped his bottle in Peter's direction before pretending to take a generous sip. Peter hummed, deep in thought. "Or so a lot. I'm not sure. I'm not sure what. Hmm… What are you doing here on school night, Wade, I asked you-" Peter hiccuped again and Wade laughed.

It was Friday night and the fact that Peter couldn't even place the date filled Wade with wonder. He'd never before seen Peter in this state. He was always so composed and proper, going on about how he was never off duty. The Avengers must have kicked him out by force and change the locks or something for him to take a night off.

Peter's sudden giggle startled Wade out of his thoughts and he leaned in to see what Peter found so funny. Turned out to be his own feet.

"They're so… weird," Peter murmured, transfixed. "Feet. Weird! And toes! Oh man, them toes! So weird… Do you think my toes are weird?" Wade tried to stifle a laugh, but failed pathetically, and Peter made the most adorably wounded face at him. "Geez, I know they're not perfect, but you could try to be bit nicer about it…"

Wade's boxes were urging him to just take Peter to the bedroom and worship these toes with the rest of Peter's body, but miraculously enough, Wade's inner child won with Wade's inner pervert. Boxes were inconsolable of course, but Wade just had to exploit this situation to the fullest. The chances of it happening again were ever smaller than Wade dying.

"I might have ugly toes, but lemme tell you," Peter lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned closer to Wade. "I'm Spider-Man. And I'm amazing. So there's that!" It took every ounce of Wade's self control not to just cackle and roll around the floor clutching his stomach. He just nodded solemnly and Peter grinned smugly before picking up where he left off.

"People in New York don't really appreciate me you know… They only like me when I save them. Not so much when I fuck up. And I fuck up a lot." Well, if that didn't kill the mood. Wade cringed and attempted to change the subject, but Peter sighed so deeply that Wade couldn't just ignore it. He was supposed to always be there for Peter, and Peter obviously needed him now. The least he could do was listen. Life wasn't always unicorns and tacos after all.

"And the worst part is… we superheroes… Man, we don't get laid enough for what we do. Not- not like, right now, because nowadays I have lots of sex. You should know, you're usually there. I mean- no, not usually. Yeah, you're always there. I wouldn't cheat on you, man, I swear."

"I know baby boy," said Wade, surprising himself with gentleness in his own voice. Peter smiled brightly, relieved and pleased, happy like a child praised for bringing home good grades. But then his smile slipped off his face slowly, replaces by a confused and hurt frown. The speed with which Peter's emotions and choices of subject changed was alarmingly similar to Wade's. And since Wade couldn't really handle himself all that well, what he was supposed to do with Peter?

"Because we lose so many people that, you know, I wouldn't want to lose you too, you know," Peter blurted, suddenly excited. "Because losing people is the worst and I realize you know that but it's the absolute worst, okay? It's worse than the chaffing from the costume, man…"

Peter flopped on the couch, huffing indignantly, and Wade allowed himself a small smile. Not because Peter's priorities mixing were particularly funny, and they kind of were, as yellow box pointed out. He smiled because it was sort of hilarious how little he knew about Peter. He would gladly start wallowing in self-pity, but Peter was suddenly right in front of him, his hands on Wade's shoulder, snatching his attention for himself.

"Wade you gotta stop killing people," Peter said intently, shaking Wade's shoulders once. "That's- that's not how you do it at all." Wade was about to apologize awkwardly and, honestly, run the hell out of there, consequences be damned, but Peter squeezed his shoulders and looked Wade in the eyes. "You- you put the bad guys in jail, okay? So the other bad guys mess them up. Don't you watch any movies at all? That's a punishment alright? Killing them is too easy, you're better than that!"

Wade blinked slowly, not sure if Peter really meant that or was just trying to use some kind of reversed shit on Wade. Peter waited patiently for a reaction, but after a moment his eyes started to close on their own, and his head swayed minutely. Wade figured he wouldn't have to run away after all. If Peter still wanted to continue this conversation tomorrow morning, Wade would, well, pretend it didn't happen, to be perfectly honest.

What? You expected something different?

Peter climbed onto Wade's lap and wound his arms around his neck, pushing his face into the crook of Wade's shoulder.

"I'm equally sleepy and horny," he slurred, and Wade couldn't hold back a chuckle. He put his arms around Peter's waist with intention of lifting him and carrying to bed, but Peter purred and snuggled even more.

"You have to pick one, Petey, because I'm gonna hafta choose for ya if you keep doing that," he grunted, rubbing circles on Peter's lower back. Peter sighed deeply and lifted his head to look at Wade again. He leaned an inch, his warm beer-flavored breath mingling with Wade's. Wade instinctively closed his eyes, ignoring the boxes whooping with joy.

"Do you think Flint gets sand in his ass when they, you know, in jail?" Wade's eyes snapped open. Peter was looking at him expectantly, bravely fighting off sleep. Wade wanted to smack him in the head. That's not how you treat a lady, doesn't Peter know that? Peter apparently got bored with waiting for an answer, because he started giggling like an idiot, most probably imagining things Wade hoped would never cross his own twisted mind.

"Yeah, sleep it is, Spidey," he said as he lifted them both from the couch and started walking towards the bedroom. "You've clearly had more alcohol than bad cinema. You kinda gross me out, you know that?"

Peter chuckled, delighted, and patted Wade on the head affectionately. Wade rolled his eyes, because it was getting too ridiculous. He was actually happy that Peter didn't usually get drunk. It clearly wasn't fun for anyone. Especially not for Wade. He should have drunk more.

"This sucks," he decided, dumping Peter on the bed. Peter smiled at him and wiggled his toes in Wade's face. "I'm gonna break them, stop that." Peter laughed happily and patted the bed, motioning Wade to lay down beside him.

Wade sighed, exasperated, and plopped down next to Peter. Peter turned to his side and put his hand on Wade's cheek, looking at him with warm affection. It always made Wade a little uncomfortable, though admittedly less and less with time they spent together. Wade swallowed, anticipating a sappy confession or something equally embarrassing.

"You wanna blow me?" asked Peter bluntly. "I don't think I'm gonna fall asleep without it."

And well, Wade did want Peter to finally go to sleep, didn't he?