Chapter Text
Bobbi : Well, what are you going to do? You got your bitching out of the way, now it’s time to make a plan.
Peter
: Why do you have to be so cold?
Peter
: I’m going to bitch about Jameson not paying me enough until I die and you can’t stop me.
Peter
: But for the record, I already have a plan.
Bobbi : Are you going to tell me what it is?
Peter
: Uhhhhhhh, maybe.
Peter
: I don’t really want to.
Bobbi : I won’t make fun of you for working in fast food, or whatever it is. You know I’m always proud of you for doing your best.
Peter : Can I just try it first and see if it works out before I tell you? It’s embarrassing.
Bobbi : Fine. I’ve got to go, Peter. Good luck with the new job.
Peter : Later mbird.
Peter tosses his phone aside with a dramatic sigh. He’s pretty sure he won’t be successful with this, but what else is he supposed to do when Jameson won’t pay him and Spiderman takes up all his free time?
He’s done his research. At least, as much of it as he can. The internet can be pretty vague when it comes to things like this. Supposedly “everyone is doing it,” but it’s banned on most platforms.
All he can do at this point is try. What does he honestly have to lose?
He takes a long shower, the water much hotter than reasonably necessary. It leaves his skin pink and warm. He does his hair, sort of, and rolls on some chapstick. It’s the most he knows how to do.
He spends the next several hours getting to know his camera more intimately.
Now, Peter is a photographer. He knows what he’s doing. He (used to) get paid a lot of money for his pictures (and hopefully he will again very soon.) But picking which ones he wants to use for this is… difficult. He’s not sure which parts of himself he wants to share and what he should keep for himself.
He’s spent a lot of time thinking of a new name for himself, and he’s already got it all planned out. He’s going to start with a few Reddit posts. Make a private Twitter account. Then a new Snapchat. That should be enough to get his feet in the water.
There’s no way he’s jumping right into video, he’s already nervous enough as it is. The embarrassing truth is, he barely knows how to touch himself properly. He has never had that much time for himself, so when the mood strikes him, it’s over pretty quickly. Spiderman has always been more important than love or sex.
It didn’t exactly end well when he tried love, anyway.
He bites his lip and taps his fingers against his laptop without purpose. Is this really a good idea?
What’s the worst that could happen, Peter? Post the fucking pictures. Get paid. Or don’t, and get a real job. It can only go one of two ways.
He makes his posts and spends the next ten minutes furiously reloading the pages with heart-stopping suspense. He’s pumped full of adrenaline, much more… excited than he thought he would be. The idea alone that someone might see his post and decide to buy his content sits like a weight in his stomach.
He snaps his laptop shut and looks at his watch. It’s past sunset. Deadpool is probably waiting for him.
He pulls on his spidey suit and swings out his window. He definitely needs an excuse to let out some of this nervous energy. He could take down an army right now.
He finds Deadpool in the usual spot, legs hanging precariously off the edge of the roof. He climbs through the bars and takes a seat beside him, with a short, “Hey.”
“Where have you been all day?” Wade asks. He offers Peter a taco from his comically large bag of them. “You’ve missed… a whole lot of nothing.”
“I was around…” Peter says. He takes the taco just to keep his hands busy. He already wants to check his phone. “Any leads come through on Tarion?”
Wade shrugs. “Got a cold tip about a warehouse that turned out to be nothing.”
“You went without me?” Peter asks, pout clearly visible and exaggerated where his mask is pulled up.
“You weren’t around. At least, not around me. You could finally give me your number, Webs, and I’d be able to let you in on the scoop twenty-four seven.”
Peter considers this, but he’d do anything not to have his phone in his hands right now. What if he actually had a notification and Wade saw it? Not happening. He takes another taco and unwraps it slowly. “Maybe later. Tell me more about the tip.”
“I told you, it was cold. There’s nothing else to tell you.”
“Maybe you missed something,” Peter insists.
Wade laughs and gives Peter a hard pat on the shoulder. “Baby boy, you don’t make any money on mistakes. Are you suggesting I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“You’re getting paid for this?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Not for this job, no. I’m only doing it for you.” Wade stands up and bends backward, stretching out his back. “Let’s get out of here, I’m bored. We can check it out again if you don’t believe me.”
Peter feels a pang of guilt for doubting Deadpool. They’ve been partners for a while now, he should trust him, right? Well, maybe. There’s still a lot Peter doesn’t know about him.
Then again, Peter knows Wade’s full name and home address. Wade doesn’t even have Peter’s phone number. Who’s the guarded one again?
They leave the tacos and Peter webs them back down to the street.
Wade doesn’t like swinging, for whatever reason, so they always walk. Even the ride down has Wade whining like a baby.
But Peter hates walking. There are cops on the ground. How is Deadpool more okay with cops than with Spiderman? There’s no cops in the sky.
Wade is twice Peter’s size, anyway, so he throws off the balance when they swing around. It’s fine.
The hours pass without any real event. They wander around without a real purpose. Wade talks too much. He also buys them some more food because he never stops eating. They help a lost dog find its way home.
The two of them end up back on the roof, watching the sun rise. It’s traditional. It’s where they always meet up at night and typically where they say goodbye in the morning. The sunlight peeks over the tops of buildings, warm and pink, and their hands sit an inch apart between them.
The air is calm, thick with humidity and heavy enough to even shut Wade up. It’s comfortable.
Eventually, Peter says, “I should go home… I’ve got a lot on my plate today.”
“Want me to walk you?” Wade asks. He doesn’t stand up though, Peter always says no.
“No thanks. See you tonight, Wade.”
“Get some rest, Webs.”
When Peter gets home, he feels better. Something about Wade’s extreme chaotic energy makes his own problems seem not so bad. Something in the back of his mind is still nervous, but mostly he’s trying to stay positive. He makes the executive decision to wait until the morning to check online. Well, his morning. After he sleeps. The afternoon. Whatever.
.
.
.
He wakes up to several messages asking to see his feet. Well, he can do that. Maybe it’s not something he wants to do, but it’s easier than trying to act like he knows how to be sexy.
His heart skips a beat when the first deposit hits his account. It works. He actually got paid. And if the messages are anything to go by, he’s going to keep getting paid. He had thought that a $10 per month subscription fee to his snapchat was a lot, but apparently it’s not.
Maybe the feet guys will pay even more. They seem more than willing.
He spends the rest of his day coming up with new content, responding to messages, posting new ads. He comes up with a real plan instead of something half-assed that he hopes works out.
He even considers joining one of the livestream sites, but he decides that Snapchat is plenty for now. He doesn’t want the pressure of people watching him live, it makes his chest tight with anxiety to even think about it.
Before he knows it, the sun is setting again, and it’s time to head out. He almost doesn’t want to leave. What if someone messages him and he can’t answer and he misses a sale? It’s not like business is booming yet, he’s only had a few people respond, but still.
He shakes it out of his system and pushes away from his desk. Spiderman can’t be distracted by this while he’s working. He can’t think about this while he’s out, he has to leave it alone. One thing at a time.
He suits up and makes his way across town to meet Wade.
It’s another boring night. They take a walk through the park, buy some more food. Wade is his usual overly-flirtatious self.
Technically, they’re on a huge case right now, but they’ve hit a stone wall. With no new information coming in, there’s nothing they can do. They’ve turned the entire state of New York upside down, and found nothing. Unfortunately, for now, it’s a waiting game.
Wade blows Peter a kiss as they part ways for the night and Peter rolls his eyes. Part of him wishes he could live like Wade. Completely care-free. Only taking jobs for money, and not because it’s the right thing to do.
He can’t worry about what Wade does anymore. He’s been better since they started working together, and he needs to trust him. What’s the worst he could be getting up to without Peter hearing about it?
Peter goes to bed with the intent to finally relax a little.