this picture is very relevant

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„Peter what the fuck are you wearing?"

Peter froze mid-step, cursing under his breath. Wade wasn't supposed to be there, he wasn't supposed to see Peter like this. Like what, you ask? Well, dressed like a stripper, to be perfectly honest.

Peter was doing an undercover job at a nightclub. He had to dress a certain way, alright? Even if they let a nerd dressed like he just came from a library in, no one would speak to him. Anyway, he didn't have to explain himself! At least he didn't think he'd have to, because Wade wasn't supposed to be there!

"What the fuck are you doing here, Wade?" Peter hissed looking around nervously. If Wade blew his cover…

"I'm making a living, Peter, what do you think," Wade growled. "It's not even important! I asked you what you were wearing!"

Peter's eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was a tone he hadn't heard in, approximately, ever.

"Why, Wade?" he drawled. "You don't like?"

"I like very much, Petey, my boy, but so does every fucking pervert in this shithole!"

Wade was visibly bristling. Peter couldn't help but notice the soft blush on his cheeks, even if most of his face was hidden by a baseball cap. And damn, wasn't it doing things to Peter. He might have been wearing less than his Aunt would deem appropriate but this was the first time that night he felt… embarrassed. Exposed. He didn't fully realize before that he looked like someone who wanted to be looked at. And Wade was definitely looking. And according to him, so were others.

Peter cleared his throat and decided to hide his embarrassment with sarcasm. "Are you jealous?"

"Do I have a reason to be?"

Peter supposed Wade was aiming at smug patronizing tone, but he failed at concealing actual uncertainty creeping into his voice. Peter sighed and looked around again to make sure no one was watching before taking Wade's hand into his for a brief moment.

"Stop being an idiot. You know you don't. It's just a job. It's not like I want to be here. I don't care about those fucking perverts, as you gracefully put it, and I can take care of myself."

Wade cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded. "I wasn't-"

"I know Wade," Peter hurried to assure him. Wade might have been an asshole, but Peter knew he would never imply that Peter was, well, whoring around, to put it bluntly. "I know you weren't. Now, can you please get the fuck out of here so I can do my job and get out of it alive?"

"What?" Wade barked out a surprised laugh. "You've got to be kidding me, web-head, you're asking me to throw away a lot of money here! What's in it for me?"

Peter cocked an eyebrow and gestured at himself. It took Wade a second to catch his drift, but when he finally did, he swallowed thickly and grabbed his things.

"I'll be waiting home, then. Have fun fighting crime!"

Peter smirked and shook his head in fond exasperation. Before he disappeared, Wade gave his ass a quick grab and Peter had to fight back an indignant squawk. He took a deep breath and patted his hot, and probably quite red, cheeks a few times.

He'd get back at Wade for this later at home.