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"FUCK!" Wade grumbled, watching the game over sign pop up. Wade glanced at the time. 2:05 am.
That's fine. Totally fine. Wade didn't have anywhere to be tomorrow anyway.
Wade sat against the headboard of the bed, holding his smart phone.
(Don't you think it's a little late?)
"Be quiet, yellow box who is now parentheses." Wade hissed. "Pete is sleeping."
"Wade?" A voice croaked besides Wade.
Peter propped himself up on his elbows, his brown hair sticking up. Peter blinked and his eyes narrowed at Wade, who clutched the seemingly tiny phone in his big, calloused hands.
Peter groaned and plopped down on the bed, folding his arms over his eyes. "Wade, please don't fucking tell me you're playing Flappy Bird."
"And what?" Wade snapped. "I haven't played in a while. My high score is fourteen."
[Loser.]
Peter scoffed. "You fucking loser. My high score is thirty-nine."
"Oh, blow me." Wade spat, restarting his game.
"In the morning." Peter grumbled, getting comfortable. He yawned and closed his eyes.
Wade continued to play for a few minutes. "WHAT THE FUCK I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT."
Peter groaned. He grabbed Wade's pillow and blocked out the sound. "Wade, turn that shit off or I swear to God."
"What are you gonna do, short stack?" Wade snorted, watching the bird narrowly miss the edge of the pipe.
Peter shot Wade the deadliest glare. Peter was always touchy about how much sleep he got. Once, Peter didn't get enough sleep due to finals, and fell asleep during Spider Man duty, allowing Sand-Man to rob a bank.
"Shorter people are closer to Satan." Wade commented.
(You shouldn't have said that.)
[You've done it now.]
Peter leaped towards Wade, fist in air. Wade yelped the world's manliest yelp-
(More like a squeak.)
And fell off the bed.
Wade cursed and rubbed the back of his head. He pouted at Peter and said, "I couldn't gotten seriously hurt!"
"Yeah, well, you didn't." Peter said, grabbing Wade's phone.
"Hey, come on!" Wade complained, getting back on the bed.
Wade heard the familar sound of 'Flappy Bird' coming from his phone.
"What are you doing?" Wade demanded.
Peter smirked. "Getting your score up to at least thirty. You fucking loser."
"You're mean." Wade complained, laying on his side with is back towards his boyfriend.
After a few minutes, Peter tossed Wade's phone inbetween them.
"Pussy." He grumbled. He laid back down and turned his back towards Wade.
Wade quickly picked his phone up and opened up the game. The highscore was at 69.
Wade giggled. "Did you do that on purpose?"
"Just giving you a preview of what you're going to NOT do with me tomorrow." Peter replied.
Wade pouted. "I hate you."
"Go to bed."