quipsandthwips | [PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[Peter Parker is doing fine.

Let him re-phase that: he's adapted and adjusted accordingly. Look, it hasn't been easy. Deciding to remain friends with MJ and still finding himself without an actual job or home to speak of doesn't beat losing both his mentor and his last surviving family member. There are empty spaces in his life that he tries not to linger on too long — but god, he misses May's smile, her voice, her kindnesses. It had taken so long to accept Ben's death... and now it's, just... it's hard. It's easier to just be Spider-Man for a while.

Crime doesn't sleep, after all. So yeah, homeless. That's no biggie. He's been there before. He mainly just works at FEAST with the homeless (he relates, and the new head honcho Miriam knew Peter was on the streets somehow, so he makes his keep there by volunteering. He, um. He gets to sleep in May's old office. It's... nice. There are still pictures and stuff hanging up that nobody had dared move.

So he's only sort of homeless now.

Anyway. Not important. What is important is keeping tabs on the villain activity around here. With most of the villains locked up aboard the Raft (not gonna even think about Dr. Octavius right now, because it still hurts too much), it's mainly these little obnoxious crime families and gangs; Kingpin had been the leader of all the gang activity before his arrest. And now it's this crime family. The Vinsmokes. Hard to get them arrested, and they've got so many secret strings being pulled all over. It makes for a real pain in the ass to deal with. He hasn't gotten a chance to catch the head honcho with anything criminal yet, but boy oh boy has he busted soooo many drug deals, weapons manufacturing, stolen goods deals — and so on.

Most of the grunts are easy-peasy. The literal family are all a bunch of super-powered heathens like him. Cool. He's gotten, like, three of them locked up on the Raft... only to have them somehow bought out, or released for shoddy police work, or something or another. Now there's just one locked up, but it's only a matter of time before Daddy Vinsmoke does his magic.

Ugh. He hates it.

2:30 a.m., and he's down by the docks and sticking against a nearby wall as fake money exchanges hands.]

Hey, do those work on any vending machine?

I'm dying for a bag of Doritos right about now.

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[Niji lacks the cold efficiency of his older brother, who would have tried to shot Peter for the sport of it, and he isn't as stupid to make a ruckus like Yonji would -- so really, Peter lucked out by meeting the Vinsmoke who gets bored when things don't go his way.

Now he gets to deal with the blond, roofied one still in his office, who has long since escaped the couch and is right by the window again. Which is open, whoops. At least this time Sanji's torso isn't hanging out of it. Instead he sits with his knees back up to his chin, enjoying the cooler breeze that rolls into the room.

He barely moves when Peter opens the door. Only a brief spike in temperature, like a poisonous animal flashing a warning at the enemy, but it settles down quickly once Sanji peeks over his arm and sees who has returned.]

... What?

[Where the hell did you disappear to?]

[Peter comes back with a mildly concerned and distant expression — a look of grim focus unlike the usual — and then just as quickly is smoothed out as he looks to Sanji with a slight smile. No reason to freak Sanji out more than he already is, right? He probably hates his brothers, if how he's found him before is anything to go by. Or if... how the guy spoke was anything to go by. Don't think he didn't catch the malice that floated around, even when they weren't too specifically talking about Sanji.

He moves to sit down next to Sanji, pulling his legs up to join in on the huddling.]

What, what?

Am I interrupting something, Miss Priss?

I can set you on fire, bastard.

[Pulling his knees closer to his head, making a pillow out of them, and very obviously not making good on his threat. His eyes sweep over Peter a couple of times, but the haze still turns his vision to water. Hard to see anything out of place when he's this exhausted.]

Oi... you got your phone on ya? I need to borrow it.

[Sanji's missing his -- an outdated flip phone that's probably as old as they are -- and he pats at his pocket to emphasize the point]

Not making any shitty calls, just gotta check something.

Awww, you like me too much to charbroil me.

[He flashes a little smile, which only flounders a little at the request.

His phone...? For what...? Well, it's not like he has anything damning on there.]

Uh - sure! What're you checking on?

[Here. Just. Don't break it. Not that he'd blame him; he still seems kind of out of it, so... hell, he's just happy he's not making the room eternally hot anymore. His throat already hurts enough without it — and the fast healing's already helping to turn those spots into purple smudges on his neck.]

[Sanji doesn't answer, and he doesn't get far on Peter's phone, either. All he does is turn it on, pretends he doesn't see a message from some person named MJ asking how Pete's managing because that's not his business, and scans his eyes across the top, where the date and time are.

... Three days, huh.

Shit.]

Wanted to check the time. [The phone is tossed back into Peter's hands before Sanji abruptly stands. Unlike before, his footing remains even this time. The fog's starting to clear from his mind and body.]

... Oi, sorry to duck and run, but I gotta get going.

Hey, wait a sec!

[He puts a hand on Sanji's shoulder — certainly something he wouldn't have had much success with back when the guy first walked through their doors, that's for sure — and looks at him with those stupid doe-eyes.]

I'm worried about you, man. You can't just... come stumbling into my room and then vanish on me. What happened? At least rest a little longer? You're safe here, remember? This place is on your side.

[And that's exactly the problem.

People and places on Sanji's side? They tend to disappear real fuckin' quick when his brothers are bored. The haziness that's followed him for three days has already sharpened into a guillotine. Staying here isn't safe for anyone.

... But he doesn't buck the hand off his shoulder like he wants to. Like he should. His mouth curves into a stiff line of frustration]

I--

[god fuckin damn it, racking a hand through his hair and hissing through his teeth]

It's not safe, alright? You're not safe. I don't -- [Feeling heat rise in his chest and he shoves it down, tries to keep his body's temperature consistent]

I don't remember anything.

[... Well, that doesn't bode well.]

What do you remember? Why isn't it safe?

C'mon, you know me. I've been in some bad situations here and there, too.

[You can trust me, is what he says without saying it.]

[He remembers details he's not about to tell Peter, that's for certain. Being dragged into his father's private lab the moment he'd returned from his trip with Peter, ears filled with Niji's vindictive laughter, goading Sanji on because they both know the rules. And it had hurt this time, seared like fire, whatever shit had been pumped into his veins.

No, Peter doesn't need to know any of it. And drawing that line in the sand.... well, that helps to steady him somewhat.]

I don't remember the last three days.

[That's all he's willing to divulge, it seems, hand slipping out of his hair.] Forget it, this is a ... a family matter.

[Spearing Peter with a look] Which means it's none of your shitty business and I don't want you sticking your--

[He stops short, tongue getting stuck to the roof of his mouth. His eyes tick down by an inch and stay there.

Sanji's staring at Peter's neck]

Oi...

[Honestly, he'd been too distracted worrying about Sanji to consider the guy would take note of the marks on his neck — he was so hazy before, so out of it, he figured maybe he could just avoid the topic altogether. His hand moves to his neck only fleetingly, before he opts to touch Sanji's bicep supportively instead.

Really, he's Spider-Man. This is nothing, just another day ending in Y.

Of course, Sandy doesn't know that. Can't understand how little of a big deal it actually is.]

... I'm fine. You were just confused, that's all.

I'm more worried about you, honestly.

[No, Sanji doesn't understand that choking Peter hard enough to leave bruises is at best a minor inconvenience, and amidst the sensation of his stomach dropping to his feet, he gives Peter a stiff, blank look of pain.

And steps away]

... I'm quitting.

[Perhaps the quietest Sanji's ever been since working here, and it's been... a couple months? A good run, then. He has no right to complain. The only regret is he caved and made a friend along the way.]

What — no, no no. You can't.

[He steps in front of him, hands hovering anxiously.

Weird, he didn't think Sanji deciding to part ways from FEAST would be that bad — in fact, he'd been hoping for a peaceful resolution to inviting a mafia boss' soon into the shelter — but it's not like that anymore, and he feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at those words. Maybe he'd... maybe he'd adopted him in that stupid way of his, the same way he'd taken in Felicia, had been so determined to help turn her life around; to help make her not a thief, a crook, to give her life purpose in a way that wouldn't hurt others in the town.

And more than anything, to give them a way to be happier.

Oh, Spider, Felicia had told him once, running a finger along his bicep as they lay in bed, You can't always fix every single stray kitten you take in. And maybe she's right. After all, she'd gone back to her old ways. But... but this is different. Sanji's clearly in a place that treats him like garbage. And Peter can't stand the thought of him slinking back to that life, and just... being his villainous enemy.

Octavius was hard enough.

Sanji would just be another dagger into his heart.]

Everything's gonna be fine, okay? We can work on this together. Whatever's going on with you... I can help. We can help, here at FEAST, because — because we love you being here, okay? Marcos and Celeste and Gloria — and, and Miriam, even, they all adore you, you know? And I —

[Wow, weird.

Weird little knot in his throat there, like he isn't sure what to say.]

You're my friend. You can't go. Who else is gonna keep me in my place?

[... Maybe bad phrasing, considering the deathchoke a while ago.

But still.]

Would you fuckin stop it--

[He snarls before Peter even finishes speaking, barely able to coil back his anger when he feels the heat starting to rise in his body again. Oh trust him, this is about what he expected, for the guy to put up a fight and try to keep him here. But for once? This is actually important, not the two of them bickering over if Sanji should join him for pizza.]

I refuse to believe you're this stupid. Just how many bastards do you know who can set themselves on fire? Or blank out and choke people? [Arching at him, not even a threat, just frustration etched into the lines of his face] Peter, I'm dangerous!

[His arm juts out, gestures at the walls, the couch, the desk -- everything that's left of his aunt, her memory. Things he's seen that are precious to Peter, perhaps all he has left to comfort him.

If it twists the knife a little deeper, then good. Let his last act here be the wake-up call Peter needs.]

You're not gonna risk this place for me, alright? You can find better friends! FEAST can get a better chef! I'm not worth this!

I told you, I'm — I'm fine —

[RRRGH

He gestures his own wild gestures, and from the outside, people can probably make out their bickering shapes, their muffled growling voices. And are... not going to get in the middle of this one, no thank you. The whole upper floor is totally emptying out.]

Do you know how many dangerous people sleep here every night? Just because you're some kind of living jalapeno doesn't mean you're less acceptable around here than everyone else! [Ah, yes, the butting of heads — just what they need right now. But goddamn if Peter can't help but fight him on this and hang onto the reigns.] I love this place — and yeah, it's — it's like having a piece of May with me, but she would rather I have you around than worry about the plant she left on the shelf that I'm definitely gonna end up killing...!

[And of course, he's not budging from where he's standing in front of Sanji, practically a wall of stubbornness that Sanji's probably gotten painfully used to. Sweat forms on his forehead, but he doesn't relinquish his space. He steps closer instead, into the warmer space. That feeling of panic in his stomach won't stop, just keeps twisting and twisting.]

You're the stupid bastard here. You've been here how many months now?

You think you can just walk into someone's life and then rush out of it? No way!

Edited 2019-04-02 01:12 (UTC)

[Sanji's gonna punch him.

Throttle him.

Kick him in the dick.

He doesn't even care anymore.

-- Except Sanji does care, and ain't that the worst part of it all, that this is the only reason he hasn't made a jump to tear into Peter like a discount piñata. For all the fury that builds on his expression, Sanji grits his teeth and stays his ground, allows Peter to invade his space and yell at him -- because there is no allowing the alternative.

He can't hurt him again.]

I can and I will.

[Though apparently, leaving emotional wounds is not out of bounds today, and Sanji rears his head back with a stubborn glint in his eye. Unstoppable force? Meet the unmovable object] What are you gonna do it about it, huh? Tie me to your couch?

[Please fuckin make his day and try it, Peter Parker]

[You're the worst.

The worst!

The most annoying!

He holds up his hands, fingers like comical claws on either side of Sanji in the most useless, most non-combative gesture of wanting to strangle someone like Homer does Bart Simpson — just say no to child abuse, by the way — and he feels the frustration mounting alongside his concern and anxiety and fear and — and all the stupid things he's got rattling around in his brain.]

You're...! I can't...! Oooo!

[Tying him to a couch in an idea. Or cuffing them together. Or throwing him in the broom closet and telling everyone it's a rabid badger, because that's almost completely the truth. There's so many options he can choose from. He steps forward like they're two cage fighters about to wrestle in an MMA ring-]

[And proceeds to practically slam his mouth into Sanji's like it's an attack.

It's hardly an accident, judging by the lips that are still pressing into Sanji's desperately.]

[--??

????

Mmmmmmmmmmmboi.

Okay, Sanji is gonna... ease ya back there, buddy, hands gently tucked against Peter's shoulders, after spending several moments looping panicked static in his head. Honestly? Kinda surprised Peter didn't punch him in the face. Sanji would have punched himself in the face. Face-punching would have been a nice change of pace for both of them, just saying, and-- and--

And he is definitely trying to avoid thinking or talking or taking any action that will require acknowledging the fact that his lips are probably as red as his ears and cheeks.]

... You... should've just tied me to the couch.

[Wow did his voice jump two octaves? M a y b e.]

[Peter's turned a little red himself, as Sanji pushes him back.

Maybe he's a little mortified, but it'd... just been the first thing he'd thought to do. Or wanted to do. In some pissed-off, annoyed way, because he's angrily wanting San— No, no no no, stop there. He feels dizzy. He's gonna puke. Oh god, what's he doing? This is the worst.]

[... His hands are hovering like he's trying to look like he comes in peace, And, uh. Uhm.

Fuck.

Sort of wanting a stray arrow from a violently tipped truck full of archery supplies to take him out right about now.

Breathlessly, and with a thin, weak voice, he dives headfirst off a cliff:]

Like... I said. Everyone loves you. Being here.

So... you should — stay.

[... Jesus Christ.

You're a bleeding heart, Pete, the little voice of MJ sighs, shoving his arm. You let yourself get too attached.

What the fuck else is he supposed to do in life?]

[Peter Parker is a cheat.

No secret there. It's something Sanji knew already. Just like he knew the longer an argument goes, his chances of victory plummet. If Sanji had really wanted to escape, he should have dived out the shitty window while Peter was out of the room.

Never has that felt more evident than now, watching Peter with his hands in the air, awkwardly confessing -- again -- that maybe Sanji should just stay, like it's that fuckin easy.

His sigh is sharp enough to cut his tongue... but when Sanji drops his hands from the other's shoulders, he tucks them away into his pockets, muttering darkly under his breath as he goes about staring at the floor.

And very pointedly doesn't move from his spot, neither toward the door or the window.]

Pain in my ass.

[...]

"Living jalapeno" was a good one, not gonna lie.

[Peter's shoulders sag.

... Heh. Rejection.

Rejection he wasn't even realizing he'd been anxious for in the first place.

Fuck. x2. He just smiles weakly, because he figures it's fair; he deserves that.]

... I mean, if the shoe fits... 'Raging trashfire' seemed too mean.

I'm sorry, uh. You should rest. You're still feeling tired, right?

[Tired? Yeah, that's a word for it. The sort of exhaustion that's so deep-seated you feel it in your bones instead of your skin. He'll be asleep the moment he slows down.

Before that, though, his gaze presses through his bangs, assessing Peter for a moment. If he has any idea what the other's thinking, it doesn't show on his face. But before long, an anxiety that's all his own starts to surface, bringing along with it a wave of guilt]

... You need ice for your neck.

[He huffs a sigh, hand moving back to his throat.

Muttered under his breath:]

... It's not the first time I've been choked, honestly...

[Sorry, what was that-]

I can, uh, get a bag of peas. That's usually how it works, right? Bag of peas?

But I'm kind of worried you're pulling a fast one on me and you're gonna try to jump back out the window the moment I walk out of the office.

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