SpideyPool- He Doesn't Have To Care

Wade's Place, The Dump

Wade Wilson's POV: (Did you really think I'd tell you which box is which?)

     We exited the school after the final bell rang. It was about damn time. Once we reached the sidewalk, Peter turned to me.

   "Where's your place?" Peter asked. "I could walk with you, yeah?"

     That's so cute. My little Petey wants to walk with me to my place. It's absolutely filthy there, but I'll tell myself it's not that bad.

Yeah! Show him something uglier than you. That'll convince him you're not that bad!

Don't trust him, Wade. You just met him. He's gonna hurt you.

   "I feel like you two just switched personalities." I muttered under my breath. I raised my voice so that Peter could hear me and said, "Sure thing, Baby Boy. Sounds great. You should call your dads first, though."

   "Oh right!" His hand found it's way to the backpack strap on his right shoulder. He pulled the backpack off his shoulder and  set it on the ground. He got on his knees and pulled his phone out of the front pocket. He tapped the contact number and put the phone to his ear patiently. 

   "Hello?... Hey Dad!... I don't always call because I want something, Dad.... Well, yeah.... I was wondering if I could go to a friends house.... We can study if you want.... Thanks Dad!... Love you too. Bye."  That's all I heard of the call.Peter hung up and put his phone in his backpack. He slung he backpack over his shoulder and turned to me. "Public bus or walking?" He simply asked.

   "We are definitely not walking, but were also not taking the bus." He looked at me puzzled, but I pulled out the keys to my car and a knowing look spread onto his face.

   "Ohhh. That makes sense." He face-palmed and muttered into his hand. "I feel pretty stupid now." We laughed and started walking around the parking lot to find my car. I unlocked the car with the key and the headlights flashed. Peter looked at the car.

   "Cool, Wade! That's a 2000, right?" He marveled at my 2000 Mustang GT. I did too. It does look pretty cool. The car itself is black and it has a subtle, but noticeable, dark grey pinstripe. It looked brand new and that's how I'll always keep it. My thought wandered just slightly. I thought about how old the car is. 17 years old, almost 20. The damned thing is as old as Peter.

   "Yep!" He was still looking at the car when I glanced over at him. "She's the cleanest thing I own, so enjoy it." I walked over to the car and opened the passenger side door. "Ma' Lady~."

     He giggled as I over-dramatically bowed. "Why thank you~." He said this in a posh voice as he walked past me and got into the car. I closed the door, walked around the car, and got into the leather driver's seat. Then, I slid the key into the ignition and started the car. The car started with a pleasant sound and a bit of a rumble that was easily felt through the seats. I just picked up Peter Parker.

What do you do now?

We should fuck him!

Peter Parker's POV:

     Wade started the car and the rumble of the engine sent shivers down my spine. He must of noticed because I heard him snicker. I looked over and caught his gaze, but before I could say anything, he peeled out of the parking lot. I was sent back into my seat as I heard the squeal of the tires. It was kind of like a battle cry.

   "Jesus- frickin- Christ, Wade!" I yelled. He laughed and slowed the car to a legal speed.

   "Yes, Baby Boy?"

     I tried to conceal my smile and my laugh, as I said, "You are such a jerk, Wade."

   "It's what I do best." 

     For the rest of the car ride, Wade and I just talked about random stuff that came to our minds. I didn't know this but, Wade was kicked out by his parents and that's why he lives on his own. He seemed uncomfortable with this so, I didn't ask anything about it. 

   "We're here." The car stopped in front of some apartment buildings after he said that. He got out of the car and went around to my side to open my door. I got out and we walked to his apartment. When we got there, Wade pulled out a gold colored key on a key ring. There was also a picture hanging from the key ring; it was an old man with tented shades and white hair with a matching mustache. The bottom read 'Stan, My Bud'. I didn't question it, though. He let me walk into the apartment first when he opened the door so that he could lock it behind us. I looked around.

   "It's not that bad..." My eyes traveled to all the loose sheets of paper on the floor accompanied by rappers from 'Juan's Mexican Spanish Food'. That name is a bit redundant. There were to-go cups from that place along with, 4 scattered throw pillows, greasy take-out bags, clothes (most-likely dirty), three hand guns (that I could see). The guns didn't bother me that much since he is living alone.

   "Don't lie to me." He said, looking around.

   "We're cleaning." I surprised myself with that statement, and Wade looked confused, but I kept going, "Like, now."

   The confused look left his face and he gave me a sweet smile. "You're gonna' help me clean?"

   "Yep!" I scanned the room. "Where's your cleaning stuff?" He laughed.

   "I don't have any."

   "Get your keys." Wade tried to say something, but I cut him off. " We're going shopping."