"Sorry," Peter offered a self-deprecating sort of laugh, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "You're not that old. I mean - it's just professionalism, I guess. Can I call you Wade? Is that okay?"

Peter grabbed his bag and followed Wade into the bedroom, taking a cursory glance around as Wade started pulling off his shirt. His eyes flickered back up tracing over the lines of Wade's body as the man removed his shirt and - well jeez, the scars ran down the whole of him but also, uh, was anybody else going to tell him Wade's abs were totally stacked?

There's not an ounce of disgust on Peter's face, if Wade bothers to sneak a peek at all, and he rummages around his bag for the lavender lotion to start on. He poured some onto his hand, rubbing it between his palms to warm it as Wade stretched out, fully naked, on the bed. Not a problem, he's seen plenty of nudity in his line of work...though Peter has to admit, it's usually someone a little more, uh, elderly.

"It's more effective if I can see what I'm doing," Peter admits, gently spreading the lotion over Wade's shoulders. His touch is light, but not because he's hesitant; just because he wants to be considerate of the pain Wade must be in. "If it hurts too much, or I do something you're uncomfortable with, just say the word."