[He just gives Wade such a look at 'vodka cleanse'. But you know, he'll let that one go, because — well, he's not privy to even 99.999% of the terrible things Wade's probably done to himself. As the door closes, Peter dips a hand around Wade's and pushes the door right back into openness with a pointer finger.]
Ooor we could clean up the mess you made, before Cable comes back pissed off at you. [Sure, he's still concerned, but in that way that implies he's also a little exasperated. Seems like a good balance to keep, when it comes to Wade.] Maybe I'll even hold off on talking about things like Dr. Phil, just a little.
[... Ignore that he's a little breathless. He's still tender and recovering.]
... What? You guys don't get to clean my place and then never let me return the favor.
[ He stays still, letting Peter reach by him and push it back open. So much for hiding that... ]
Cable's already pissed at me. It's his default setting. The switch just got stuck when he traveled back in time to be a major pain in my ass. You should have seen him when we first met. He broke my spine like... Twice. But haaa, still didn't kill Russell so who really won that one? [ Oh, he's rambling. ]
Why are you talking about things like Dr. Phil?
[ But wade sighs, and seems to give in to what Peter wants, turning back around to make his way inside, kicking debris on the floor out of the way to make a walking path for Peter. ]
Make yourself at home -- [ Oh, no, abrupt stopping. Saintly Pete cannot see his drugs. God knows what he'll try to do. Talk to him about DARE or flush them, or...NOPE.
Nevermind, he's turning back around. ] Actually better idea: pizza, somewhere that isn't my place.
[Peter puts his hands on his hips, and gives Wade a Look. Just because he was almost genuinely dead, like, a few days ago doesn't mean he's going to let the guy off the hook for whatever stupid thing he was hiding. Warily:]
... Is there something in there that's gonna piss me off?
[Because you seem really, deeply invested in finding pizza.
And yeah, Peter's favorite food other than wheatcakes is pizza —
Is this a you'll get off with a warning instead of jail-time if you don't lie to the cops situation? Can I phone a friend?
[ Oh, oh no, look at him, he's wringing his hands like a nervous kid. ]
I have a lot of things that'd probably piss you off -- I've probably done a lot of things that would piss you off. Did you read about the guy that jumped into the polar bear enclosure at the zoo? I'll give you three guesses who that guy was and the first two don't count.
[ This probably isn't doing him any favours but maybe it'll work to get Peter to let him off the hook. ]
[He sounds a little overwhelmed and stressed out at the thought of every word out of the man's face, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He doesn't seem to say much more than that — but he does absolutely move past Wade as he's wringing his hands, moving to try and walk right into the home with a Purpose in his walk.
[ Those sure are gloved hands going to Peter's shoulders and pulling him to a stop before spinning him around. Ah, they've played this song and dance before. ]
I feel like I should get five minutes to hide my unmentionables. I couldn't have you seeing all my naughty off-brand Avengers sex toys right? I'm kidding. I'm not kidding. I'm kidding. [ He doesn't have any :( But he would 100% have Spider-Cock if he could find it. Both the toy or the real thing. ]
There is definitely at least one thing in there that you're going not going to be very sunglasses emoji about. Maybe two.... You're gonna yell and then I'm gonna panic and yell and maybe we can just not yell?
[He turns JUST as he's about to stumble upon Wade's powdery little hilltop on the table, looking at him with a wrinkled nose. And maybe puts a hand on the nearest wall, because he's admittedly a little winded; sometimes you just kinda forget you almost died, you know? Especially when you're friend is doing questionable things you gotta curtail.]
What's this one thing? What the hell've you been up to, while I've been half-dead???
[ Wade's hands are immediately moving to his sides to help brace him up, out of reflex more than anything. Wade's gaze falls past him to the mess on his table as Peter asks the question, something easy to tell with the way his head turns slightly. His voice has a sharper tone to it when he speaks again. ]
Are you supposed to be out and about?
[ Peter, it's not your job to keep him from hurting himself or doing terrible things. ]
Or are you supposed to still be in bed staying well hydrated?
[He glowers a little at him, because that's not the focus here, and he knows Wade is genuinely concerned — but also, he has to know it's a means of distraction.]
I'm fine. I've been getting better faster than a lot of other people.
[Skinnier, still weak in the knees, and still working with pink, agitated marks everywhere, but fine.]
What I'm more worried about is you getting sick and trashing your place and trying to get into fights with Halloween costume rejects on the network — right after you left the medical tents. I mean, I know I was half out of my mind, but did you think I didn't notice you vanish halfway through the fiftieth time I forgot my name?
[A pause.]
... Exactly how much am I going to hate whatever you're looking at over my shoulder?
[ The hands that had moved to help him stay up withdraw tentatively. ]
Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look fine. You're still one of the babest babes there is but maybe a babe who needs a nice long nap and some vitamin C.
[ Sure, it is a distraction, but wade does care. He cares more about Peter's health than he does his own. ]
I'm not sick anymore. The old gal decided her vacation was over and healed me up all good. And that asshole deserves it. I would love to make his insides outsides any day. [ Oh, no, his metaphorical hackles are rising. He seems to realise this though, and settles down a bit. ] I went to get you more chocolate, got some bad news. I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry for vanishing. I - [ Got into a fight with one of the mountain people and made them angry? ] delivered the chocolate, didn't it get to you?
[ Is there a sign on Wade's door that just says come on over at the worst time? ]
A lot. But it's one of the only things that kept me from working my way through the locals until I found out who knew about the shit in that hole to hell.
[ There isn't an ounce of humour in his voice. He means it. ]
... So you don't want to talk about it, but you do want to totally wreck your place and pace around on the feed.
[Wade, bud, Peter is not a healthy person by any means... but love yourself. Christ.
He closes his eyes for a moment, clearly recuperating as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He's really, really not trying to be holier-than-thou; sure, being a superhero kind of leaves a lot of time for that, especially when generally destructive hobbies are involved, but this? This is more like a pal who knows intervention isn't gonna really change anything.
Intervention meaning everything ever in Wade's life, but you know.
Still.
He turns and looks at the table, and almost immediately swivels back around to make a disapproving face at his friend.]
Wade.
[Do you hear the very long lecture that has somehow been rolled into one single utterance of his name? Do you?]
Yes. Those things and talking about it aren't mutually excusive.
[ You're doing him a big Stress, Pete. Especially when he makes that kinda face. Not that Wade's not used to disapproval from just about every faucet of his life. ]
Peter.
[ Yeah, he tries to match the tone, but it doesn't quite work.... huh. ]
Due to personal reasons, I now keep my powdered sugar on the table?
[ A beat and then with a hint of agitation. ] Well, now that you've gotten your goodwill out of the way for the day, may I help you with anything else?
[ Sorry, he's in a bad way still and he's not ready for the actual drugs are bad, mmmkay? lecture. ]
It's not just about goodwill, you idiot! It doesn't matter if you miraculously heal from whatever you're doing to your body — you think I wanna see my friends treat themselves like garbage?!
[He feels a migraine oncoming. Cool beans.
Swaying slightly before making his way into this poor wartorn home (potentially with a bit of a stomp in his step, yes), he begins to start picking up after the place with a sort of pissed off silence that implies he really is too steamed to talk to Wade directly right now.
Clearly cleaning up will ease his fury. Yes.
He's gonna clean the FUCK out of this place, mildly ill or not.]
[ Either Wade catches on that he really shouldn't be prodding Peter with conversation, or he's thoroughly baffled by what Peter had just shouted at him. That doesn't mean he stays quiet, quite the opposite, he keeps a running one-sided conversation with... god knows who. The subject of said conversation can very clearly hear him.
He lingers in the same room, picking stuff up and jamming it into a trash bag as he yammers. ] Taking all bets on when he's going to decide he doesn't want to be my friend. I said no takebacksies, I should give him an out. Do you think a little IOU slip would work?
[ He ties the end of the bag and tosses it to the floor with enough force to make all the things inside the bag sound pretty fucking terrible. Look, there's only so much of this that he can take before he tries kicking the hornet's nest. Peter should be honoured Wade waited this long, typically he doesn't have this much patience. ] You're sorta making this hard for me. [ Oh, wow, okay, this is how he's going about it. ] I don't know what to say to you to get you to stop steaming your broccoli in my house. [ So, pretty much, going about this horribly. Hornets? They just wanna be your friend, right? ]
[Peter swivels to glower at him, a sort of I'm disappointed in you, son look that is probably not the most pleasant response Wade was hoping for. But then again, the sickly, grumpy guy holding a pillow that has clearly been physically abused by Emotions is not the best choice in company right now.
This asshole. This asshat. This jerkwad.
Nothing makes his broccoli steam less, knowing Wade doesn't get it.
Ugh, he feels like he's gonna puke. Everything feels like a hangover.
[ The mean mugging Peter aims his way has Wade's head jerking back a bit, and then he goes and does that and Wade just watches him for a moment. Is this productive? It feels like a couple steps back, if we're being honest.
Wade stares a bit owlishly if the expression of his mask is anything to go by. ]
This is probably a bad time to tell you I'd probably still snort that off the ground, right? Kidding! Probably kidding. Mostly kidding. Let's not actually get into the specifics of how much I was kidding.
[ He's not doing much to put Peter on simmer instead of boil, is he? ]
Feel better? [ He'd probably be more stressed if that was all of his cocaine. ]
Can you just - [ Well, at least he doesn't seem afraid of Peter, because he's suddenly moving close enough to put his hands on both Peter's shoulders. ] stop for a second.
[ You are STRESSIN' him out. ]
I get it, you're going to huff and puff and blow my house down if I don't let you get your frustration out. You almost died. I thought you were going to. [ And suddenly Wade is pushing Peter back until he's against one of the table chairs, trying to make him sit. ]
[He shakily sissy-slaps those hands, resisting sitting as much as possible.
Sick, he's not sickly, he's 100% healthy again.]
Yeah, and I came back to find out you had a mini-meltdown and wrecked your house while I was out of commission.
[Oop, no, his legs are still wobbly. He falls into the seat like Wade cut some invisible strings on him, looking a little bitter at the fact that his body still feels like jello. Ugh. It's almost as if you don't just skip merrily out of a tent after nearly dying. Something in him seems to finally relax for a second, his outrage quelled, and his shoulders and head sag.]
Yeah, because what's the point if you -- [ died too? Those words die before they can form. Small blessings. ] own a house and can't fuck it up every now and then? I'm thinking my next stunt will involve more fire.
[ His mask shifts with a frown. ]
Which is why you should be resting instead of harassing the resident mercenary about his blow and the state of his house.
Hey, don't do that; I borrow milk and eggs from here when I don't want to go into town.
[That was a joke, but also not remotely a joke.
He scrubs at his face, and then looks up at Wade, quiet for a long moment, eyeing him with a sort of intended focus and thought that he hasn't been able to keep after he'd gotten really sick. Now he just looks — unsure.]
Can you just — not, for a little bit?
The drugs, the breaking your crap, the freaking out over this stupid sickness — I just... want to fix up your sad-looking living room and — not think about the crap I'm kinda helpless at, for a little while. Maybe make fun of 50's television commercials... Anything.
Please?
[Honestly, that sounds nicer, and something Peter Parker can handle outside of the costume.]
[ The please is really what seems to do it, causing him to deflate like a sad balloon -- his shoulders sag and he sighs. ]
Yeah, we can do that.
[ That's not exactly a "yeah, I'll stop doing drugs, breaking my crap, and freaking out" but it's pretty close, right? Of course Peter Parker is making him feel guilty for doing drugs, breaking his crap, and freaking out. Is Wade even surprised at this point? Not really. ]
My vacuum is in the closet by the front door. For what it's worth.
[ And then: ]
... Is that really where all my eggs have been going?
[ He looks towards the fourthwall. ]
I guess egg stealing lawn flamingos does make a lot less sense.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Ooor we could clean up the mess you made, before Cable comes back pissed off at you. [Sure, he's still concerned, but in that way that implies he's also a little exasperated. Seems like a good balance to keep, when it comes to Wade.] Maybe I'll even hold off on talking about things like Dr. Phil, just a little.
[... Ignore that he's a little breathless. He's still tender and recovering.]
... What? You guys don't get to clean my place and then never let me return the favor.
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Cable's already pissed at me. It's his default setting. The switch just got stuck when he traveled back in time to be a major pain in my ass. You should have seen him when we first met. He broke my spine like... Twice. But haaa, still didn't kill Russell so who really won that one? [ Oh, he's rambling. ]
Why are you talking about things like Dr. Phil?
[ But wade sighs, and seems to give in to what Peter wants, turning back around to make his way inside, kicking debris on the floor out of the way to make a walking path for Peter. ]
Make yourself at home -- [ Oh, no, abrupt stopping. Saintly Pete cannot see his drugs. God knows what he'll try to do. Talk to him about DARE or flush them, or...NOPE.
Nevermind, he's turning back around. ] Actually better idea: pizza, somewhere that isn't my place.
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... Is there something in there that's gonna piss me off?
[Because you seem really, deeply invested in finding pizza.
And yeah, Peter's favorite food other than wheatcakes is pizza —
which makes it all the more suspect.]
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Is this a you'll get off with a warning instead of jail-time if you don't lie to the cops situation? Can I phone a friend?
[ Oh, oh no, look at him, he's wringing his hands like a nervous kid. ]
I have a lot of things that'd probably piss you off -- I've probably done a lot of things that would piss you off. Did you read about the guy that jumped into the polar bear enclosure at the zoo? I'll give you three guesses who that guy was and the first two don't count.
[ This probably isn't doing him any favours but maybe it'll work to get Peter to let him off the hook. ]
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[He sounds a little overwhelmed and stressed out at the thought of every word out of the man's face, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He doesn't seem to say much more than that — but he does absolutely move past Wade as he's wringing his hands, moving to try and walk right into the home with a Purpose in his walk.
Danger, Wilson Robinson.]
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[ Those sure are gloved hands going to Peter's shoulders and pulling him to a stop before spinning him around. Ah, they've played this song and dance before. ]
I feel like I should get five minutes to hide my unmentionables. I couldn't have you seeing all my naughty off-brand Avengers sex toys right? I'm kidding. I'm not kidding. I'm kidding. [ He doesn't have any :( But he would 100% have Spider-Cock if he could find it. Both the toy or the real thing. ]
There is definitely at least one thing in there that you're going not going to be very sunglasses emoji about. Maybe two.... You're gonna yell and then I'm gonna panic and yell and maybe we can just not yell?
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What's this one thing? What the hell've you been up to, while I've been half-dead???
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Are you supposed to be out and about?
[ Peter, it's not your job to keep him from hurting himself or doing terrible things. ]
Or are you supposed to still be in bed staying well hydrated?
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I'm fine. I've been getting better faster than a lot of other people.
[Skinnier, still weak in the knees, and still working with pink, agitated marks everywhere, but fine.]
What I'm more worried about is you getting sick and trashing your place and trying to get into fights with Halloween costume rejects on the network — right after you left the medical tents. I mean, I know I was half out of my mind, but did you think I didn't notice you vanish halfway through the fiftieth time I forgot my name?
[A pause.]
... Exactly how much am I going to hate whatever you're looking at over my shoulder?
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Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look fine. You're still one of the babest babes there is but maybe a babe who needs a nice long nap and some vitamin C.
[ Sure, it is a distraction, but wade does care. He cares more about Peter's health than he does his own. ]
I'm not sick anymore. The old gal decided her vacation was over and healed me up all good. And that asshole deserves it. I would love to make his insides outsides any day. [ Oh, no, his metaphorical hackles are rising. He seems to realise this though, and settles down a bit. ] I went to get you more chocolate, got some bad news. I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry for vanishing. I - [ Got into a fight with one of the mountain people and made them angry? ] delivered the chocolate, didn't it get to you?
[ Is there a sign on Wade's door that just says come on over at the worst time? ]
A lot. But it's one of the only things that kept me from working my way through the locals until I found out who knew about the shit in that hole to hell.
[ There isn't an ounce of humour in his voice. He means it. ]
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[Wade, bud, Peter is not a healthy person by any means... but love yourself. Christ.
He closes his eyes for a moment, clearly recuperating as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He's really, really not trying to be holier-than-thou; sure, being a superhero kind of leaves a lot of time for that, especially when generally destructive hobbies are involved, but this? This is more like a pal who knows intervention isn't gonna really change anything.
Intervention meaning everything ever in Wade's life, but you know.
Still.
He turns and looks at the table, and almost immediately swivels back around to make a disapproving face at his friend.]
Wade.
[Do you hear the very long lecture that has somehow been rolled into one single utterance of his name? Do you?]
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[ You're doing him a big Stress, Pete. Especially when he makes that kinda face. Not that Wade's not used to disapproval from just about every faucet of his life. ]
Peter.
[ Yeah, he tries to match the tone, but it doesn't quite work.... huh. ]
Due to personal reasons, I now keep my powdered sugar on the table?
[ A beat and then with a hint of agitation. ] Well, now that you've gotten your goodwill out of the way for the day, may I help you with anything else?
[ Sorry, he's in a bad way still and he's not ready for the actual drugs are bad, mmmkay? lecture. ]
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[He feels a migraine oncoming. Cool beans.
Swaying slightly before making his way into this poor wartorn home (potentially with a bit of a stomp in his step, yes), he begins to start picking up after the place with a sort of pissed off silence that implies he really is too steamed to talk to Wade directly right now.
Clearly cleaning up will ease his fury. Yes.
He's gonna clean the FUCK out of this place, mildly ill or not.]
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He lingers in the same room, picking stuff up and jamming it into a trash bag as he yammers. ] Taking all bets on when he's going to decide he doesn't want to be my friend. I said no takebacksies, I should give him an out. Do you think a little IOU slip would work?
[ He ties the end of the bag and tosses it to the floor with enough force to make all the things inside the bag sound pretty fucking terrible. Look, there's only so much of this that he can take before he tries kicking the hornet's nest. Peter should be honoured Wade waited this long, typically he doesn't have this much patience. ] You're sorta making this hard for me. [ Oh, wow, okay, this is how he's going about it. ] I don't know what to say to you to get you to stop steaming your broccoli in my house. [ So, pretty much, going about this horribly. Hornets? They just wanna be your friend, right? ]
1/3
This asshole. This asshat. This jerkwad.
Nothing makes his broccoli steam less, knowing Wade doesn't get it.
Ugh, he feels like he's gonna puke. Everything feels like a hangover.
He stares for a moment in true Parker judgement.]
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A big sad poof of white dust drifts down to Peter's left, rendered useless.
Rest in spaghetti, never forgetti.]
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Wade stares a bit owlishly if the expression of his mask is anything to go by. ]
This is probably a bad time to tell you I'd probably still snort that off the ground, right? Kidding! Probably kidding. Mostly kidding. Let's not actually get into the specifics of how much I was kidding.
[ He's not doing much to put Peter on simmer instead of boil, is he? ]
Feel better? [ He'd probably be more stressed if that was all of his cocaine. ]
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Where's your vacuum?
[No he doesn't. Give him your goddamn cleaning supplies.
He's going back to cleaning. All wobbly-like.]
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Don't have one.
[ Yes, he does. It's in the coat closet. ]
Can you just - [ Well, at least he doesn't seem afraid of Peter, because he's suddenly moving close enough to put his hands on both Peter's shoulders. ] stop for a second.
[ You are STRESSIN' him out. ]
I get it, you're going to huff and puff and blow my house down if I don't let you get your frustration out. You almost died. I thought you were going to. [ And suddenly Wade is pushing Peter back until he's against one of the table chairs, trying to make him sit. ]
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Sick, he's not sickly, he's 100% healthy again.]
Yeah, and I came back to find out you had a mini-meltdown and wrecked your house while I was out of commission.
[Oop, no, his legs are still wobbly. He falls into the seat like Wade cut some invisible strings on him, looking a little bitter at the fact that his body still feels like jello. Ugh. It's almost as if you don't just skip merrily out of a tent after nearly dying. Something in him seems to finally relax for a second, his outrage quelled, and his shoulders and head sag.]
... I'm just tired.
[Jokes on you, Peter. You're always tired.]
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Yeah, because what's the point if you -- [ died too? Those words die before they can form. Small blessings. ] own a house and can't fuck it up every now and then? I'm thinking my next stunt will involve more fire.
[ His mask shifts with a frown. ]
Which is why you should be resting instead of harassing the resident mercenary about his blow and the state of his house.
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[That was a joke, but also not remotely a joke.
He scrubs at his face, and then looks up at Wade, quiet for a long moment, eyeing him with a sort of intended focus and thought that he hasn't been able to keep after he'd gotten really sick. Now he just looks — unsure.]
Can you just — not, for a little bit?
The drugs, the breaking your crap, the freaking out over this stupid sickness — I just... want to fix up your sad-looking living room and — not think about the crap I'm kinda helpless at, for a little while. Maybe make fun of 50's television commercials... Anything.
Please?
[Honestly, that sounds nicer, and something Peter Parker can handle outside of the costume.]
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Yeah, we can do that.
[ That's not exactly a "yeah, I'll stop doing drugs, breaking my crap, and freaking out" but it's pretty close, right? Of course Peter Parker is making him feel guilty for doing drugs, breaking his crap, and freaking out. Is Wade even surprised at this point? Not really. ]
My vacuum is in the closet by the front door. For what it's worth.
[ And then: ]
... Is that really where all my eggs have been going?
[ He looks towards the fourthwall. ]
I guess egg stealing lawn flamingos does make a lot less sense.
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... Right. Lawn flamingos are the culprit; I was totally just kidding, it's all them.
[After a moment, he rises to his weary feet with a grunt.]
Less talking, more fixer-upping, huh? Your place actually looks worse than mine for once.
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