Chapter Twenty Three

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Thursday
9:30 P.M
Wade's POV

I didn't think it was humanly possible for a boy as innocent as 20-year-old Peter Parker to consume so much alcohol. But it is.

This is his 11th shot.

He's completely wasted now.

"Waaadddeeee you're so handsome you know thaaaat?" Peter says, holding my face in his hands.

[Handsome? You know drunk people don't lie Wade]

{He's totally lying}

[Wade? Are you blushing?

"Thank you Peter." I say, trying not to burst into laughter.

"I'm serious Wade." Peter says, and puts on a pouty face.

"I know you're serious Peter."

"You aren't acting like you know I'm serious. Because I'm serious. You're the most haaaaandsomeee person I've ever met Waaaadeee."

"I uh-" I stammer.

What am I supposed to say to that? I haven't gotten a compliment in years. 

"Thanks Peter."

"No." He says, curling his bottom lip like a pouty toddler. I laugh out loud.

"What is it baby boy?" I ask.

"You don't believe me." He says in a sassy tone.

"Oh really? How do you know that?" I say mocking his sassiness. 

"Because... I just caaaan." He says, acting annoyed. He tries rolling his eyes but even that makes him almost fall off his entire chair. I catch him and help him up. He looks at me, thanks me and then out of nowhere kisses my cheek with a 'mmwah!' sound. 

[WHOA DID HE JUST-]

{I CAN'T BREATHE}

[BITCH YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A BODY OF COURSE YOU CAN'T BREATHE-]

"Peter?" I ask, eyes widened. He looks up at me again.

"Whaaaaat?" He says innocently.

"Uh, no more drinks tonight okay?"

"Fineeee, but I'm still not done with you." He says, lifting up his pointer finger. 

"Oh?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"Like I saaaid, you don't believe me!" He said, crossing his arms.

"I do believe you Peter." 

"Okay then prove it." He says, raising his eyebrows.

"How am I supposed to-"

"Repeat after me." He interrupts. 

[Sheesh, he's being dominant much.]

{It's kind of hot}

"Alright." I say, sitting back in my chair, crossing my arms. 

"I, Wade... what's your middle name?" He asks.

"Winston." I tell him.

"Okay, I, Wade Winston Wilson," He begins, "Hehe, that's funny. Isn't there something in grammar like that? Like uhhh, Peter Piper picked a pack of pickles or something like that. Whatever that's called, you know Wade Winston Wilson?" He asks.

"Alliteration?"I ask.

"Yeah... uh... obliteration or whatever. Now, repeat." 

"Peter you don't have t-"

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