Chapter Text
Well, hot damn.
That was Wade's first thought as he strut into Sister Margaret's and laid his blue eyes on Weasel's new bartender.
The man (~But he's a boy! Look at that baby face! Could just squish it between my butt cheeks.~) was chuckling at Buck's joke as he poured another shot of whiskey for the large fella.
Peter wasn't actually at all humored by Buck's deprecating joke about women, but you gotta get the tips somehow, and Peter definitely needed the money. After this most recent war, losing the man who was essentially his father figure after five amazing years, Peter was on his own, emotionally and financially. Aunt May died from cancer three years after the Snap, Happy worked exclusively with Pepper and Morgan to help them get around and care for them nowadays. Ned and MJ reappeared, but Peter was a far different man than he was five years ago and hadn't chosen to even visit them yet. As he watched the light fade from Tony's eyes, his heart broke in two.
At the time, all he could think: my dad is dead. Again.
So here he was, a month after the battle, serving shots to a rowdy bunch of neanderthals in a dump of a bar hidden in downtown Manhattan. He had sent resumes and applications out to at least twenty different bars and restaurants, since Tony had expertly taught him how to pour everything from a shot of Svedka to James Bond's classic Vesper Martini. Sister Margaret's Home for Wayward Girls, also called the Hellhole by the locals, was the only place to consider taking the 21-year-old as a potential barkeep.
So here he was, chuckling along to Buck's sexist joke as the fat man put a nice tip in his jar.
Maybe I'll get to stop by that pizza place after work, the one that only hires women. Give them a nice tip in return.
As he was thinking about how best to spend his hard-earned money, he failed to notice the red-and-black-clad mercenary stalking him from the opposite end of the bar. As soon as Buck's fourth drink was poured, the younger man heard an impressive whistle pierce his ears.
He looked down the bar, glancing at the new customer taking a seat at the bar.
Nice outfit. Wonder if he's a hero? I haven't heard of him.
Peter walked towards the costumed man, giving the man the best smile he could muster.
"Hey there! Welcome to Sister Margaret's! Is there something I can get for you?"
Wade's heart just about melted at seeing Peter's adorable, toothy smile. What a fucking cutie.
"Hey there cutie-pie! What's a place like you doing in a person like this?" Wade smiled under his mask, his eyes mysteriously expressive to the cutie behind the counter.
Peter blushed slightly, but managed to shake it off.
"Oh, you know, just searching out the cute guys to seduce." He sent another seductive smile towards the costumed man.
Wade definitely blushed under his mask.
"Damn, Baby Boy! Trying to get into some grown men's pants, huh?"
Peter laughed, slightly reconsidering the joking tone he took with his new customer.
"Gotta earn those tips somehow, you know? What can I get for you?"
Wade laughed. "Let's start with an appletini for me, Baby Boy. After that, your choice. A couple shots of whatever you think is best."
Peter nodded, preparing Wade's drink of choice.
Once Wade started sipping on his cocktail, Peter poured out a couple of the most expensive shots he could find. He wouldn't turn a customer down when they told him to pour a shot of his choice.
Wade had rolled up his mask so that he could fit the appletini's straw in his mouth. When that glass was drained, he tried to turn away from Peter as he took the (incredibly expensive) shots.
Fortunately for him, Peter was busy serving other customers. Wade smirked when he'd rolled his mask back down, smacking his lips at the drink he knew to be very expensive.
Smart boy. Get that moolah!
He wasn't embarrassed of his skin condition per se, but he didn't want this cute new bartender throwing up all over his bar on his first day of work.
Wade spent the rest of his night taking Peter's expensive shots, holding off on tipping him until the end of the night.
When most of the vagabonds and thieves had left the bar (near about 5 in the morning), Wade was still sitting at the counter, ogling the boy.
Peter finally shouted out last call to the remaining seven or so patrons. By this point, Peter felt quite frustrated with the man, since tips were definitely customary in this business and the man had yet to contribute to his meager tip jar.
That only lasted until the costumed man left the bar, giving one last smirk towards the hard-working bartender, who was about to be pleasantly surprised.
After all, Peter hadn't certainly been expecting the $500 tip found under Wade's third appletini glass.
As Peter left the bar, changing in an alleyway into his Spider-Man uniform, he felt an extreme level of joy at the amount of money in his pocket. Weasel, who lived above the bar, had taken half of Peter's tips to account for the privilege of serving in his bar. Even so, Peter still walked away with a cool $350, largely thanks to that costumed man's contribution.
What a guy.
Peter thought about the man as he swung his way to his apartment. The man had hit on Peter as he served him drinks, but hadn't really changed over the course of the night, unlike people like Buck. The alcohol didn't seem to have a big effect on the man.
Peter hoped he'd see this mystery man again.