Warning: More smut incoming. 

If someone were to put a gun to Wade's head and threaten to shoot him if he didn't explain why he'd slept with Peter, he wouldn't be able to give them a reason. They could take it a step farther and threaten the handful of people that tolerated being around him, and he still couldn't give an honest answer.

Because he's not sure, himself.

There were a lot of feelings mixed up with Peter Parker, and not a lot of them Wade could put his finger on. Suspicion, but that one was easy. Wade was a paranoid person to begin with, slap a too-innocent smile and rumors of diabolical schemes on top of that and he was poking with a 10-foot pole, digging into things he didn't belong to. Annoyance, because Parker managed to creep onto every single one of Wade's nerves like a he had a blueprint of where to find them. But lust was a new one. Or was it arousal? Sexual curiosity, maybe. He didn't know how to describe the tension between him and Parker that led to their "sexual shenanigans" the other night. There was something keenly familiar about it, like he saw it on a show once, or read it in a book he's long since forgotten.

There was a string tied to his sternum and every time he wondered away, it tugged him back towards the other man.

Did the revelation of his heartmate connect them physically? By the forces of magic and voodoo, was Wade never going to have peace of mind again? If he ever had it to begin with.

To avoid answering these questions, he went back to his first plan when the whole heartmates debacle started: avoiding Peter Parker at all costs. It wasn't hard to do, the man lived in a skyscraper and had people he could send to get him anything he wanted. The likelihood of them running into each other at a store, much less Wade's apartment, was on the same level of Wade kicking the bucket permanently and embracing Death with both arms.

But while he could avoid Peter Parker, the voices weren't as easy.

I cannot BELIEVE you slept with the enemy. LITERALLY!

You really can't keep it in your pants, can you?

I'm sorry, I was under the impression we were supposed to KILL bad people, not give them hand jobs.

Parker offered to pay you back, maybe you can get him to fuck you. You know, since you're already massively screwed when Spider-Man finds out you took advantage of his sugar daddy.

OMG would if he's jealous??? That would be so hot.

I bet Parker already told him about how you slammed him into a wall and shoved your hands down his pants.

Classic. You're a real classy guy. No wining or dining, just straight to grinding.

Wade curled up on the bed, blankets pulled over his head as he tried not to scream. There were so many thoughts circulating inside his brain felt cramped and stuffed to the brim. But out of all of it, the voices were right about one thing: Peter had to have told Spider-Man about what happened. Why wouldn't he? Those two were like that . And for those who are reading, he's crossing his fingers together to emphasis the closeness of those two fellas.

He's always half-joked that Spider-Man was Parker's dirty little secret, but with how often those two were together, he was now convinced of it. It didn't help that Parker used to take pictures of Spider-Man for the Bugle, and judging by how good those shots were, some of them had to be staged, which implied a level of interaction between them dating back years at least.

Shut up, Wade isn't jealous.

Oh, he's totally jealous.

No, he's not. He was just...concerned. Parker has Spider-Man at his beck and call like it was nothing. Spider-Man used to swing around the city saving people just because he could, and now he's a glorified bodyguard for a man that banked off pictures that were used to slander his name. Then there was the way Peter acted when he and Spider-Man were in the same room. A smile that crept up on his face, like he knew a joke no one else did. The whole thing smelled funny.

Or you're grasping at straws, a voice shot back. The guy sounded sincere when he was lamenting his woes of being a CEO. Rich, white privilege aside, he sounded genuinely unhappy.

Come on, admit it. You like him a little. Why else would you be shoving your hand down his pants the moment he stood up to you.

"No," Wade denied, crossing his arms violently enough to pull a muscle. "It was the adrenaline. Adrenaline always messes with people's heads. Makes them act stupid."

Except there was no adrenaline. Well, not until all the tonguing and grinding and jerking off. But up until then, nada. Your logic is flawed big man, try something else.

"It was a pity handjob?"

Pity for who? Parker? Or YOU?

Wade growled, throwing the blanket off to pace the room. "I don't have a thing for him, alright! He's just...annoying! And infuriating! And I want to punch his stupid face."

Hey, do you think this is how Spider-Man feels about us?

Wade's eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his face, "UGH, I'M PARKER TO SPIDER-MAN'S ME! GREAT! How am I supposed to go to sleep now? I feel so dirty ."

Just admit you like him. Just a little. Can't be more pathetic than your attempts at denial.

"I'm perfectly content in my denial, thank you!"

HA! You admitted you're in denial! That's basically admitting to the rest of it! We win!

"It doesn't mean shit!"

But Wade was a liar. He also knew he couldn't hide in his apartment forever. Sooner or later, he was going to have to crawl out and rejoin society, and he wasn't prepared to face that nightmare.

Or the nightmare would find him.

His phone rang, and he was relieved that it was Weasel's number. His relief died a tragic death seconds later.

"Wade," Weasel hissed through the phone, "What the hell did you do?"

"Well how in the hell do you know I did something?" Wade shot back.

"Why the fuck is Spider-Man in my apartment? Why is he asking where you are? What. The. FUCK. Did. You. Do."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh....I think I left my stove on."

"DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME! I WILL GIVE HIM YOUR ADDRESS! I SWEAR TO FUCKING-"

"Okay gotta go, call you later, bye." Wade threw his phone out the window. "Time to go, time to go, time to go." He had a white rabbit to catch and a hole to burrow into.

It won't take long for Weasel to crack, he was probably only calling Wade as a courtesy. Spider-Man could be on his way right now. He scooped up his Peter Parker research and stuffed it into a backpack, as well as an array of snacks scattered around the table, it would be enough to hold him over for a few days – a week if he really pushed it. He scrambled to find his mask and slipped on his utility belt, twisting around frantically to determine what he should take with him and what would only slow him down. After stuffing a few more things into his pouches, he jammed his feet into his boots without buckling the straps and was racing to the door as fast as he could when he heard a thunk outside his window.

He'd just wrapped his hand around the doorknob and was yanking it open when a dreaded THWIP followed , and a glob of webbing hit the door, slamming it shut.

"Noooooo!" He pulled with both hands, but two more shots of webbing to the door's corners sealed it shut. Exasperated, Wade whirled around, clutching his backpack straps indignantly, "How the fuck did you get here so fast?"

"Web slinging." Spider-Man said, perched casually in the window, like he hadn't just botched Wade's escape plan. "I can get across the city in under 5 minutes."

"What kind of life hacking cheat code is that??"

Spider-Man shrugged, "It helps to have proper motivation."

"Awww and that motivation was to see me?" Wade pressed a finger cutely to his lips and swayed in place. "If I had known you wanted to come over, I would've cleaned up."

"Didn't sound that way when you were on the phone with your friend."

Wade cringed. "That's taken completely out of context."

Spider-Man stepped inside, somehow looking taller than he actually was. Or maybe it was because Wade had his shoulders tucked up to his ears. Like a turtle. There was an imposing aura around Spider-Man, the one he got when he wanted something and wasn't afraid of getting rough to take it.

It sounded hot, and this could very well evolve to be the greatest moment of Wade's life.

"We need to talk about Parker."

And just like that, all hopes and dreams were ruined. Wade deflated. "Way to kill a guy's boner."

Spider-Man tilted his head, "Not from what I heard."

"SNITCH! HE DID SNITCH! The fucker. I knew he would. Can't keep those pouty lips of his closed for a second. Look Spidey," Wade stepped forward, waving his hands to clear the air, "absolutely nothing is happening between me and your boss. What we did was just...an adrenaline rush. We were both a little worked up, and emotions were high. You get that right? I know how much you like to angst."

Spider-Man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not here about that, specifically, but we will cycle back to it. I'm here because he's worried about you."

That...was not what Wade was expecting to hear. His hands dropped a fraction. "Worried because...?"

"He said you ran out of there pretty quick, and you seemed...agitated. He asked me to check on you. Are you okay?"

Awwwww he's worried about us!

"You guys were just barely getting on my ass for snogging him."

What? He's handsome, and he was worried about us! That's cute!

"Getting a lot of whiplash over here. Settle on a side and stick with it."

Spider-Man crossed his arms, waiting for Wade to finish his internal argument. So polite. But he was waiting for an answer that Wade couldn't give.

"I'm fine. Great. As handy dandy as a handy dandy handyman. Has your boss ever heard of a wham, bam, thank you ma'am? It's like that. Just a one-time thing. Spank em' and bank em'. I'm still waiting for my check."

Spider-Man cocked his hip to the side.

"Alright," Wade cried, throwing up his hands. "So what we made out a little? People do that, and I'm people. Maybe there was a wee bit of a hand job, but who hasn't had an impromptu handjob before?"

"Hand job from a handy dandy handy man?"

"Yes," Wade snapped his fingers and pointed, "Exactly. And we all know how handy handymen like to be, especially when they're feeling especially dandy."

"I don't know, he said you sounded pretty angry."

"What, he's a therapist now? Can he read minds?"

"No, but he does have a pair of functioning ears."

"Apparently not," Wade sniffed, "Because I'm great. Tell him to mind his own business."

Spider-Man stopped tapping his finger against his bicep and his folded arms loosened, like they were about to unravel, but hesitated. He shuffled his feet, and Wade was under the impression that he was trying to stay casual, but there was a stick up his ass that he needed to get out.

"Is this about the heartmate thing?"

Wade sputtered. And then sputtered some more, tripping over nonsensical letters that refused to come together to make a sentence.

"No - why? Of course not," he managed to clump together. "Who said anything about heartmates? I didn't. I didn't say anything about it. You're the one bringing it up. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Spider-Man rubbed his neck, "Why wouldn't you be?"

Wade yanked open the fridge, "Don't start playing mind games with me. Take that reverse psychology shit outta my apartment before I break out in hives. You want a beer?" He tossed Spider-Man a beer without waiting for an answer and the other man caught it.

Without missing a beat, he popped the cap off and took a swig.

Wade didn't take him as the drunk-webslinging type. Then again, he had an enhanced metabolism. Maybe he couldn't get intoxicated.

Who got drunk after one beer, anyway?

Deciding his conscience was clear and he wasn't corrupting New York's dandiest spider, he opened his own bottle and guzzled half of it before coming up for air.

"Look, Wade," Spider-Man fiddled with his drink, sloshing the liquid around like he was nursing a glass of wine, "I know you don't like Peter that much, and I was just as surprised when I found out about the heartmate thing too. I hate billionaires just as much as the next guy, believe me," he frowned, as if thinking of something unpleasant, " Believe me," and took another large swallow. "But why do you REALLY hate him?"

"Cause he's shady as fuck," Wade said, without hesitation, "Any guy who gets that successful THAT quickly has to have bodies under the bed. They always do. And I -" I know he had to do something to you - say something to you – to get you to trust him so thoroughly.

Or you're just petty and jealous and the thought of someone as sleazy as Parker having someone you've always wanted makes you angry. Very very angry.

Wade grit his teeth, thunking his bottle against his forehead and dropping on the couch. "And I don't want him to put you in an evil whammy jam. I mean, do you know how embarrassing that would be for you? You'll never live it down. I'm looking out for you here."

"Peter isn't-"

"I know, he isn't going to do anything like that. You know him. You trust him. I've heard this song before, no need to bust your pipes."

"Then why don't you believe me?"

"Because I like seeing things for myself. I already can't trust my thoughts most of the time, at the very least I want to trust my eyes."

Spider-Man went silent for a long moment, staring off to the side in consideration. He took another slow, deliberate sip of his beer, and sighed. "Would if...I could arrange to give you an in-depth tour of the entire Parker Industries building? So you can see it all for yourself?"

Wade looked up, pulling the cool, condensed glass from his mask, "Would your daddy approve of that?"

"I can convince him," Spider-Man shrugged, as if it wouldn't be a problem at all.

How do you think he's gonna "convince" him? A voice giggled.

Wade has always entertained the idea that Parker and Webs were sexually involved, if not in a full-blown Romeo and Juliet style romance. Now his brain flooded with images of a dozen different ways Spider-Man could "convince" his boss, as the voices whistle and whoop.

It's stupidly hot and he doesn't want it to be. In fact, any arousal he felt for such scenarios was soured by how much he didn't want it to be hot.

There are no cameras in Parker's penthouse. Maybe this is the reason.

Yeah, so Parker and Spider-Man can have hot, intimate, passionate sex without any incriminating evidence of it!

Wade's head snapped up, "Hey, yeah!" He pointed an accusing finger, "why are there no cameras in Parker's penthouse?"

"He likes his privacy," Spider-Man answered easily, "Besides, I come over sometimes and we have an agreement that there will be no camera or picture evidence of my identity. It's for my sake just as much as him."

Wade felt the breath leave him.

So Parker knows Spider-Man's face AND has hot passionate sex with him?

Wade threw his hands up. "That's so unfair!"

Typical! All good things happen to bad people.

Then why hasn't any good things happened to us?

Oh! Got me there!

Wade pressed his hands against his head to stop the building pressure. Spider-Man touched his shoulder and he tensed. The hand retracted.

"What are you thinking, Wade?"

About you sucking Parker off as he sits at his fancy, overflowing desk.

Do you think Parker likes to be fucked? Or to do the fucking? Maybe he gets off on fucking someone a thousand times stronger than him.

"I'm thinking that a tour would be lovely," Wade plastered a smile to cover up the very lewd, very r-rated scenarios the voices were discussing in great detail. "What time works best?"

Spider-Man visibly brightened, "I'll talk to him and shoot you a text."

"Thanks bestie. Now if you don't mind," Wade shooed him to the door, "I have an entire case of beer to finish and a pity party to throw, and I can't reschedule it again. Text me those deets and my people will get with your people."

"O-okay," Spider-Man backed up as Wade pushed him towards the window, "alright, text you later then. Bye."

"Buh-bye, hugs and kisses, mwah mwah."

Spider-Man gave a final wave and then was out the window and thwipping away. Wade waited a few minutes to make sure he was gone before shoving a hand down his pants to pump madly at the erection he barely managed to hide from Spidey's view.

"I hate you so much," he groaned at the voices, imagining Spider-Man fucking Peter Parker over his desk.

<><><><><><><>

This place doesn't look too bad.

But that's what people said about every place with a dark secret.

Wade met Peter in the lobby. He came down from the high branch himself; didn't even make Wade wait, or send him to his office. No, he was there at the receptionist desk, laughing with the woman tending to the phones like he was just another intern working his hours. As soon as Wade walked through the door, he turned, smiling.

Couldn't even drop the nice guy act for a second.

Peter looks Wade up and down as he meets him, "Oh, I thought you were going to show up in your work clothes."

Wade shoved his hands inside his pockets with a glower. "If I'm going to spend my entire day listening to you talk about all your biggest accomplishments, I wanted to be in my comfiest clothes. Spandex and leather aren't comfortable to sleep in."

Peter nodded sagely, like that made perfect sense.

Maybe he's worn tight-fitting clothes before? GASP! Would if he's worn Spider-Man's suit while they-

"Nope," Wade interrupted, shaking his head hard. "We are not going there. Not here. Huh-uh. Rewind, press pause, go back. Not happening. NO!" Peter stared at him and Wade felt the need to explain. "Voices." He gestured to his head.

And that was that.

Peter smiled, nodded, and gestured for Wade to follow him. Like this was all normal and to be expected, and Wade fumed. Voices in your head are not normal, alright. Give him a quizzical look, or a dumb stare. Anything.

None of this accepting him at face value bullshit. It made him feel itchy.

"Shall we start?"

"Yeah, yeah, lead the way."

Wade followed Peter out of the lobby and away from the uncomfortable stares that have been tracking him ever since he stepped foot through the doors. He's glad he decided to wear his mask. The hoodie and sweatpants were comfortable, but he couldn't step foot in here without some layer of protection.

They were walking past security check and one of the guards approached Wade cautiously, hands out and prepared to stop him to be patted down. Wade was prepared to poke him between the eyes, but Peter stepped between them.

"It's okay, he's with me. I vouch for him."

The security guard looks Peter over, wondering what the fuck gave him the right to bypass security when realization dawns on him and he immediately steps back. "Oh, Mr. Parker, I didn't recognize you. Sure, sure. Of course. Go right ahead."

Wade is tempted to stick his tongue out as he passes, but the guard hadn't been particularly rude. Just doing his job. So, he buries his hands in his hoodie pocket and sulks.

Their tour begins.

Peter starts from the ground level and makes his way up. Wade see's every lab, every room, and every maintenance closet. Peter answers his questions honestly, as far as Wade is aware, and is an open book.

It doesn't take as long as Wade expected for the tour to come to an end. Or the time was just flying by at light speed; because a few hours later, Peter turned to him and awkwardly outstretched his arms in a ta-da manner.

"And that's it," he said. "You've already seen my penthouse and the roof. Was there anything suspicious or bad?"

"You could have easily hidden anything suspicious or bad knowing I was coming over," Wade responded, unimpressed. "How spic-and-span would this place be if you didn't know I was coming? All kids' stuff things under their bed when mommy comes to check."

"Feel free to check anywhere you want," Peter opened his arms wide. "I have nothing to hide."

Wade pursed his lips and purposefully looked around the hall like he might find a nefarious doomsday device shoved inside a potted plan. Maybe a few diabolical blueprints hidden in the wreck room.

He strolled over to a door at the end of the hallway, jostled the knob, and peered inside.

"That would be one of our many janitor closets." Peter said over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I can see that."

What he didn't see was Peter planting a hand on his back, shoving him inside.

Wade stumbled, surprised with the strength behind it, and whirled around prepared to wring a neck in the name of self-defense, but Peter was already closing the door after stepping in after him.

"What's the big idea?" Wade demanded, brandishing a mop. "You should know I don't do well in tight spaces. I get all squirmy."

"Good." Peter says and there's a heat in his eyes that sends a tingle shooting straight down Wade's spine. And maybe his groin. A little. "I wanted to talk about that night."

"What night?" Wade asked, innocently.

" That night." Peter pressed a hand to Wade's chest, pushing him against the rickety shelves of cleaners.

Wade swallowed. "Ah. That night."

Suddenly this closet was very warm, and he was intimately aware of every rustle of Peter's clothes as he got closer. The voices ooh'ed in his head. Wade swallowed.

"So...what did you want to talk about?"

Peter tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, "A little bit about why you showed up. A little bit about why you ran off. Mostly, I was hoping you'd let me repay you."

Wade's mouth was a dry saharrah desert. "I take cash or credit."

"If that's what you want," Peter rolled his eyes, "but would it be too much of an inconvenience if I sucked your dick?"

"I - uh-" a POP as his brain short circuited.

YOOOOOO!!! DONT JUST STAND THERE, GO GO GO GO

A hot rich bachelor wants to suck your dick, DO SOMETHING IDIOT!

Peter slid down to his knees, never breaking eye contact. His fingers curled into the pockets of Wade's pants, waiting for the go ahead.

Okay, but are we SURE we wanna do this? I mean, I thought we hated him.

Blow jobs now. Blowing heads later.

Ehehehe isn't he technically blowing head too.

Hahahaha, got me there!

Ayyye!!

Peter was still looking up at him expectantly and Wade shook his head hard to get rid of the voices. "I - uh...su – sure?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, "I know you don't have the best impression of me, but I like a little more consent then 'sure." He started to rise from his knees, "No pressure. Really. If you don't want to, that's fine."

Wade's hands fell on Peter's shoulders, stopping his ascent. "No! I - uh, you just caught me off guard. Can't just drop to your knees and look at me with those big ol' eyes without frying a circuit or two."

Peter sunk back down, this time curling his fingers around the hem of Wade's pants. The contact of skin dipping beneath the fabric ignites sparks in his groin.

"So, is that a yes?"

Wade threw his head back, thunking it against the shelf. "Yes! Suck me off. Please? Thank you? Whatever I need to say to rev your horny engine, let's go."

That's all Peter needed to hear, with sure fingers, he tugged Wade's sweatpants and underwear down, and wrapped those fingers around his hardening member within seconds.

"Ohhhh, those are the fingers of a man who knows what he's doing. How many guys have you blown inside closets?"

Peter looked at him with a grin, "Probably more than you think I do."

Wade groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes, "Anyone I know?"

He didn't need to see the other man to know he was still smiling. "You might. I don't kiss and tell."

PETER PARKER BLEW SPIDER-MAN CONFIRMED!

That doesn't confirm SHIT you nimrod.

" I don't see any kissing here." Wade observed.

Peter pressed his lips to the side of Wade's cock in a soft kiss, and then another to the tip, "How about now?"

"Oh hill-billy on a tricycle," Wade moaned, "I didn't know you were such a tease."

"There's a lot about me you don't know."

"Yeah, I'm picking up on that, thanks."

Peter hummed, pressing more kisses to Wade's length, before licking the underside of it from root to tip. He smiled, savoring the noises pulled from Wade's sternum, and then sucked the tip onto his mouth.

"Fuuuuck," Wade hissed, carding a hand through Peter's hair, messing up the gelled monstrosity. He's wanted to do that since he first laid eyes on it.

With his dick engulfed, Peter attended to it with the diligence of a scientist out for discovery. Every suck was intentional, every lick was in the pursuit of knowledge, and every flick of his tongue was an experiment to see just how many noises he could uncover. Heat pooled into Wade's groin, and his grip on Peters hair tightened on a particularly hard suck.

Peter groaned approvingly, sending a pleasant string of vibration through his dick. He took Wade all the way into his mouth, the tip touching the back of his throat. No gag reflex say what.

" Shit," Wade pulled on his hair again, harder then he meant to, and backtracked, "Oh, shit, sorry - I-" but when Peter looked up at him his eyes were blown and dark with lust. "Oh," Wade's grin sharpened, "I think someone likes getting their hair pulled."

Peter popped off Wade's cock to say, "You're only just now picking up on that."

"Oh hush," Wade directed him back, and Peter took him in his mouth happily. "When did you get so good at this?"

Peter hummed around his dick, and oh what delicious sensations. He bobbed his head, running his tongue along the underside of the cock as he did, and covering any exposed skin with his fingers. Wade tangled both of his hands in Peter's hair and gave a small, experimental thrust, observing Peter's reaction. Judging by the moan, and the encouraging way he moved with Wade's thrusts, this was not a bad thing.

So, Wade did it again.

Getting a blow job from a guy he was still 76% sure he didn't like was a new one for him, but he's done worse for less. There was still that meddling 34% that was confused by Peter's stupidly cocky grin and that sparkle in his eye when he made a joke worse than Wade's.

It wasn't long that Wade felt a steadily rising pressure building inside. His breaths got a little quicker and he pulled on Peters hair again, encouraging the man to go faster. Deeper. Peter took the hint, bobbing on Wade's length and taking him deep again. Wade cursed, and came down Peter's throat.

He leaned back against the shelves to catch his breath.

Great, now his clothes are all sweaty.

Don't even try to make this negative, beelzebub. That was GREAT.

How much do you think we'd need to pay him to go again? Asking for a friend.

"He's the one who said he'd pay us," Wade mumbled.

"If that's what you still want," Peter shrugged, wiping excess drool and semen from his mouth. He politely tucked Wade's junk back into his pants and got to his feet. Wade, not to be upstaged in gentlemanliness, offered his arm for Peter to steady himself with.

"That was...nice." Wade decided.

"Just nice? You sounded enthusiastic enough."

"I guess no one's ever told you about porn stars."

Peter pouted. Honestly pouted . Stuck a lip out and curled his eyebrows up, and what the fuck? Why was that actually kind of cute? That's not allowed.

"It was great," Wade admitted. "Is that what you want to hear? Maybe next time make your business out of blowjobs. I think you'll be much more successful."

"I'll consider it," Peter made a show of fixing his nicely fitted suit and patting down his hair. Wade rolled his eyes and adjusted his tie, a vain attempt to help him look inconspicuous, but it didn't help. He looked thoroughly fucked - in the best, most literal way.

"So...uh...good job," Wade gave him a thumbs up, "That was fun."

"Thank you...I think."

"Look I hate to blow and run, but I've got to go."

Peter cocked his head to the side, "I'm detecting a running theme here."

"I'm a busy merc. Got places to be. Reputations to ruin. People to annoy, you know how it is," he grabbed the doorknob, swinging it open, "Might come back for another check, make sure things are clean and -" he froze in his footsteps, staring at the woman standing just outside the door with her arms crossed.

"Anna Marie!" Peter said, eyes popping as he frantically brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt and unsuccessfully tried taming his hair again.

"How long have you been standing there?" Wade asked at the same time.

Anna Maria scowled, "Don't worry, I gave you two privacy. I didn't want to hear that just as much you didn't want me to hear it."

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked, stepping out from behind Wade and looking semi put-together. "I thought you were out to lunch."

"I got back early, but I'm thinking I probably should've taken that extra thirty minutes," she was only 5'1, but positively looming, " Do I need to take an extra thirty minutes? Or do you think you can keep it in your pants long enough to do your job?"

Peter flushed a deep red and Wade decided that he liked this woman.

"You've got a meeting in 10 minutes," she continued. "I suggest you find the nearest bathroom and clean up." Peter nodded and hurried past her, cheek still blazing.

Wade was snickering up until she pointed a finger at him, "As for you, if you're done wasting our time, I can escort you out. If not, I'm more than happy to finish up the tour and answer questions. Just don't expect the same treatment."

Wade held up his hands, "No expectations here. And no need, I think I saw everything I needed to see, if you know what I mean."

Anna Maria stared.

Wade stared back.

Wade inched towards the exit, "I know my way out." 

Anna Marie picked him up and kicked him out herself. She'll do the same to Peter later, after he does his job. It never mentions just how short Anna Marie is, all I know that she is tiny and now I get to project onto her.

Also, did you know Peter Parker can canonically swing across the city within 5 minutes? MJ timed him.