Trust Me, I'm a professional
((Of fucking course it's a sewer! What was I thinking? That we’d be treated with human decency!? Ha!))
[[We aren't human, and stop complaining. You’re somehow making this worse.]]
((Oh I'm sorry, let me try that again; don't you love the sewage this time of year? The scent is lovely, and by the lord that colour! petunia’s in May have nothing on it, don't you think?))
“Shut up. I don't want to talk about it.” Spider muttered and stared down at his feet to deliberately keep himself from seeing his surroundings. His hands were pushed firmly into his pockets. Well the pockets of some sweater he had stolen on the way. It was a shame too, he had had fully intended to return the sweater. Now he couldn't, and it was going to ruin his return policy.
“What? I didn't say anything.” Holding in an immature groan Spider looked to Wilson where he had spoken. Wilson waded through the sewage, taking overly slow and dramatic steps. Likely to keep the optimal amount of sewage off of him, but it didn't work in his favour.
Spider, thanks to a certain pest; was able to walk along the wall at an awkward angle. He kept virtually clean, but he was still going to smell like shit forever.
“Not you. I'm still not taking to you.” Spider scowled towards wilson, who hardly paid attention. If he noticed the shift in the air from tolerance to aggression; Wilson didn't show that he cared.
“Well, you're doing a terrible job of it.” He mused, and concentrated closely on his steps. “On the flipside, I think you managed to nail the oldest cliché in the book. So bravo on that.”
"I think you're the oldest cliché in this book.” Peter countered immaturely, then inwardly cursed himself for replying at all.
“That would require having been done before.” Wade threw the joke over his shoulder. Then focused his attention back to the task at hand. Foot.
Surprisingly the Spider had to hold back a snort. He only managed to play it off by glaring harder at the old fool, and willing himself into a mood.
Blue on one hand was unashamed as they snorted and laughed away. Red, on the other; was still just Red.
[[Self depreciative humour is a tall tale sigh of disscontempt towards one’s situation in life.]]
“Yea, what he said.” Spider agreed. From the corner of his eye he caught Wilson looking at him curiously.
“I didn't say anything, unless your still talking about—“
“No, shut up.”
Thankfully Wilson obliged and they were both quiet by the time they reached their designated entry point. The boxes followed no such etiquette, and were shouting by then. They were just bored but as a result the Spider was angsty. Wilson just looked grossed out.
It probably would have been easier for the Spider to open up the ceiling hatch. But because he was still sore, he choose to watch Wilson as he did it. Hardly doing anything to hide his gleeful expression; as Wilson fiddled with it, slipped, started from square one, then slip again.
((He looks frustrated.))
[[We’re giggling; it's foolish, and hardly befitting of a murderer.]]
"Am not!”
((Are too!))
“Am not. I'm laughing at someone’s misfortune. It's different,” he said haughtily. After a second he started tapping his fingers against his sides, impatiently.
[[Are you just not going to comment with the whole murderer thing?]]
“What? No, no. I said I don't want to talk about it.”
“Says the guy talking to himself.” Wilson poked his head down and was met with a death stare from the Spider. His shoulders were just visible through the hatch as he leaned down. He rolled them before he tried to amend his words, . “hey I'm not judging; I talk to myself all the time, who else is going to laugh at my jokes?" Wilson paused for laughter, and filled in self-consciously when Spider wouldn't. "But anyways I got the gate thing open.” He pointed up towards the opening he was leaning down, then disappeared through it again.
The Spider followed with a grumble.
The room they entered was plain at best and over crowded without a doubt. A closet of some sort. But the spider couldn't pay any attention to it. He looked skeptically at Wilson who held out a set of clothing. They matched the ones he was somehow already changed into, and looked unimpressionable. Spider raised a brow.
“Natasha and Clint said they would leave these here so we can blend in.” Wilson stated, then tossed the bushel to Spider. Peter crinkled his nose at them then tossed them back.
“I'm already in recon clothes.” Spider Insisted.
“You're wearing a florescent pink sweater you stole off some lady.” Wilson spoke slowly, as if he thought Spider hadn't already noticed this.
The Spider shrugged his shoulders. Betting Wilson wasn't going to drop it, sat on the edge of the table behind him.
((Yea and we ROCK it.))
“Exactly. No one will know who I am.” Wilson looked skeptically at the sweater, before shaking his head. The Spider took that as his queue to roll back on his hands, and push himself onto the ceiling. He stood with his arms crossed, a catalyst if there ever was one. Generally people didn't like craning their neck for long, and felt uncomfortable speaking to thin air.
“You are literally wearing your Spider suit underneath it,” Wade pointed out, literally by pointing at the Spider, and met his glare with an amused expression.
“I fail to see how that matters.” Spider huffed and crossed his arms. “Just like any one of these low life's will fail to see me coming.” He may have been boasting a bit.
“Care to make that official?” Wade pressed, a shameless grin taking over his face.
“Like a bet?” Spider mused, and watched the little grin form with a bored expression of his own; held carefully in place, “not on your life." Wade’s grin fell away into a pursing of lips.
“I understand, no one could be as stealthy as you want people to believe you are.” He teased. Wilson was lucky he was able to walk away from that one, the spider wasn't so lenient for just any lady with a pretty smile. Wade in fact strolled towards the door, letting any little object absorb his attention as he went.
“I'm not failing for the oldest trick in the book.” The Spider defended, he had picked up on Wilson’s obvious tactics as soon as they surfaced, and narrowed his eyes at the man in response.
((But do you really believe that?))
“Which is totally fine.” Wilson talked on, over Red and ignoring. Not that he noticed; but it ruffled Red’d feathers a bunch and annoyed the Spider enough. “Awe it was going to be a good bet too,” he whined.
Whined. What kind of six-foot-something man whined? all over not getting his way! The spider crinkled his nose at Wilson who basically smirked to himself. Not that it was super noticeable, Wilson was schooling his emotions enough that the Spider was forced to read the expression differently, in the barely-there, excited jitter.
((There he goes.))
“Stop it. You think I care? I don’t care.” The spider half warned and half tried to convince himself. It almost worked too; he turned his head away and attempted to ignore Wade all together. Because seeing was believing and he couldn't believe the night he was having.
But it was harder to ignore something that wouldn't have the good will to happen in the first place. There wasn't a reply, so he cracked an eye open towards Wilson. “Good how?”
((Hook line and—))
[[you’re clichés are making you more unappealing than usual.]]
“If you get through this mission without tipping off a single crook I'll get you into the avengers tower,” Wade promised, and as soon as he did there was a beat of time Peter didn't answer him. To awestruck to say anything.
In that same beat, Wilson paused in his retreat to the door, to half regard the Spider, and half inspect some other random object.
[[He can't do that.]]
((Can he do that?))
“There’ll be rules of course. Like you gotta do it without killing anyone.” Wilson added. He pursed his lips again, and tapped a finger against his scared jaw, as if in thought.
((That's bullshit))
[[That’ll provide something of a challenge.]]
“And you now have to do it in your tacky pink sweater.” Wade decided. Way too amused, and hadn't anyone ever taught him it was rude to point?
((Hey Spider do you want me to get you a dildo for the next time you decide to scrEW YOURSELF OVER!))
((It won't be too hard.))
“And if I decide to kill someone?” the Spider asked, and raised a brow at the man. Wilson really looked back at that, he turned completely towards the spider and his lips pressed into a hard line. But he seemed to shake it off rather quickly.
“Well.. That'll lose you the bet." Wade was a bit dumbstruck. Avengers and their disney patented moral codes, This one hadn't even been there too long and they had gotten to him! Wade shook the no-good-very-bad thought from his head. "It doesn't matter if no one notices you tonight if you leave an impression you're as good as caught. And Death always leaves a good impression.” By the end of his little trip down morality lane Wade was practically swooning. The Spider chose to ignore that.
“I mean what do I owe you if I lose the bet,” Peter corrected. His tone stated it should have been Obvious, so he rolled his eyes, but that part wasn't as obvious.
"Oh, how bout… Five people. You have to spare five people.—“
“Four. But I get to choose who; where, when, and why I spare them.”
“Fine, but you gotta wear these bland clothes until you've spared all of them.”
The spider sputtered, he then half turned away to converse with his boxes, Red was oddly welcoming of the bet, and Blue was still sore after realizing their outfit had been called tacky. So a yes all around.
Wade waited patiently through all this. When Peter finally did stop whispering to himself and looked back, Wade grinned in his direction. Even though he already seemed sure of the answer he still had the good nature to ask.
“deal?”
A devilish expression of his own lit up Peter’s face.
“Deal.”