Peter's instincts were such that with the with first tap on his second story bedroom window he became fully alert, even having been awoken from the middle of a deep sleep.
Peter's powers of deduction were so sharp that with the second tap he realized that someone was throwing pebbles up against the glass from below.
Wade's patients were so thin that he discarded the third pebble in favor of a baseball sized rock and shattered the window to pieces.
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your web!"
"Oh my God," Peter shrieked, tentatively leaning out the window to avoiding any sharp edges. "My dads are going to be so pissed."
"Come on, I have beer." Wade triumphantly held a six pack over his head and took off back over the fence toward his tree house next door, no doubt in his mind that Peter would follow.
And, of course, he did.
Peter internally berated himself for his stupidity; it was one of the few nights his parents actually let him stay home alone while they were out at a party and here he was leaving the house busted open, chasing after their least favorite person, and partaking in his first alcoholic beverage.
Eventually he did convince himself to turn around and avoid disaster but at that point he was already up in the trash–filled tree house with a can of warm, stale beer to his lips and it was too late; he was already a hooligan.
Pitching the bottom of this mask, Wade pulled it up just far enough to take a swig from his own can. He moved quickly but it was Peter's first view of the gnarled skin he constantly hid and Peter's chest became too heavy for him to force another drink down his throat.
"It won't bother me if you want to take it off; I don't care," Peter said, intending to be thoughtful, but realized it was obviously the wrong thing to say as he watched Wade's body stiffen an experienced the first silence between them. "Not that you have to take off either," Peter added quickly.
"I'll make you a deal," Wade said even as he tugged his mask down more snugly, "I'll take off my mask if you take off your pants."
Presented with a convenient way out of an uncomfortable situation, Peter was desperate to latch onto it like a lifeline but it didn't seem fair. He had obviously hurt Wade's feelings and letting Wade fix it with what was obviously a self-deprecating joke wasn't right.
Besides, Peter was cool. He had snuck out of his house and was drinking beer, he could be funny too.
"That sounds fair." Peter got to his feet to make grand show of unbuckling his belt. That was all he had intended to do but when that alone sent Wade into a hysterical coughing fit he felt encouraged to do more. Maybe he'd strip completely down and run drunkenly through the streets like a crazy person. Like a crazy, adventurous, wild teenager who didn't give a shit about his grades… And also cursed and shit, even around adults.
It was at that moment, as wild abandon almost engulfed him, that his father, Tony, climbed up into the tree house.
Wade's coughing got worse and Peter fell hard to his knees to misdirect whatever it look like she was doing. Especially if what it looked like what he was doing was really what he was doing…
"We were almost home when I got a call from Erik telling me the neighborhood pervert had broken into my house and had walked off my son," Tony said in an eerily calm voice and uncomfortably settled himself onto the hardwood floor. "At first I thought, no way, not my Peter. Not responsible, intelligent boy."
The teaspoon of beer in Peter's stomach curdled as he listened to his father's highly effective reprimand.
"But then," Tony continued, "Erik tells me that you two are carrying beer and I think… Maybe he's more of my son than I thought." He held out a hand and Wade passed him a beer before he could finish saying, "Give me one of those. We've got three minutes until Steve is up here seeing what's taking me so long; who drinks what and how much in these next thee minutes stays between us, got it?"
"Dad?" Peter hedged, "am I in trouble?"
"Like you wouldn't fucking believe."