spideypool dialogue prompts

"Out past 12."

A.N. ok it's been a while. gaining views fast and i'm literally so thankful. as i get older there's more shit to deal with so gotta deal with that first you know? :D ENJOYY

Peter sat on the couch, tapping his foot nervously.

Wade wasn't back. Again. Peter was pissed. He made up his mind; he was going to confront Wade when(if) he came back.

Wade was diagnosed with cancer one week ago.   He was supposed to be on his death bed, but instead he was out every night.

It was 3 A.M. The front door jiggled and Wade stepped in. Actually not drunk this time.

Peter looked up, waking up from a little doze. His anger quickly came back as he stood up.

"Welcome home." Peter sighed, shakily. He knew yelling wouldn't help. He needed to do this calmly.

Wade stood confused by the door. "Thanks?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I thought you said you'd be home earlier this time."

Wade walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"That's it. Another meaningless sorry? This is getting old, Wade."

"Not really." Wade opened a beer bottle and drank out of it, closing the fridge. He didn't understand why Peter was upset. Peter knew he went out with friends every night.

"Yeah. A week of sorry's isn't old. Or cold food that we were supposed to eat together. Or your dirty boxes of pizza, or your Tylenol bottles on the counter? I can keep going." Peter stood on the kitchen floor.

"This ain't new to me, Peter. This is how I lived before even I met you." Wade leaned against the counter, keeping eye contact because he knew he'd win yet another argument.

But Peter stood tall. "What happened to you saying you'd change?"

"Yeah the only thing changing is my time being alive. And it's going dowwnnnnn." Wade sneered, motioning his hands going down and exploding.

Peter frowned. "Yeah because you gave up. You could have a chance to have the cancer removed you know."

"Peter. A chance. I'm not waiting for a chance. We're still waiting on money. You know that." Wade was starting to get angry now.

"It's money worth spending when we have it. Your life matters more than rent."

"I think different." Another joke. Peter doesn't get how he finds any of this funny.

"This isn't funny, Wade. I think you matter. I love you."

Wade's eyes softened for a quick second. "Yeah, and if you really loved me you'd not make me suffer."

Peter blinked rapidly, trying to keep tears down. "Why would you joke about my love for you? I guess you really have changed."

"What do you expect. I have cancer-"

"But for a man with cancer, you're pretty fucking selfish!" Peter snapped. "Someone with cancer would be spending his last minutes with his family! That was supposed to be our family, Wade!"

He didn't let him talk. "Every night you leave wherever you go to. Either drunk, or you don't even come home at all. I don't know who you're with, probably some prostitute that doesn't give a shit about you, or nags you about your cancer! I've filled so many trash bags with the dinners we were supposed to eat. The dinners you promised we'd eat together!"