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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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.

If I wanted to leave now, I'd just go.

[Says he, who got stopped in his tracks by a kiss that he refuses to count as genuine. Though uh, giving Peter a look because Sanji is damn certain he just heard Peter admit he's been choked before and who had the balls--]

... C'mon. [Heading toward the door before Peter can even get there, finessing it open with a rough shove of his shoulder]

I'll babysit you all the way to kitchen if it'll help you feel better.

[It almost seems... too good to be true. And he looks at Sanji with those wide, hopeful eyes, the kind that are obnoxiously kind and stupidly altruistic. It's a problem. But what's crucial here is this: Sanji's gonna actually come down to the kitchen, in front of the others, and be... himself here again. This isn't ending in the guy rushing out a window and out of FEAST's life.

That's a victory, one he's not used to having. He's had a lot of... hard hits lately.

Is this a mirage, or something? If he wags his hand at the man, will he get all foggy?]

You're coming with?

... Yeah! Yeah, let's go.

[He's moving to follow, a sort of newfound bounce in his step.

Choke a guy and he's following you like a happy dog. It's nonsense.

But get used to it, Sandy.]

You sure you're okay? I mean, if you're still not feeling well, you should be resting...

[Rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he hears Peter practically prance behind him, for shit's sake--]

Oi, you wanna keep an eye on me or not? Stop asking stupid questions.

[Peter, Sanji did not think he had to spell out what he was doing. It's irritating that he hasn't left, as he very well should, and the only way to protect himself from his own stupid decisions is to pretend that this is all for someone else's sake.

After all, he's gotta sell it to the people downstairs. Half the shitty building heard him and Peter going at it, and knowing that they know he's here twists the chef's back up in knots, shoulders bunched closer to his ears, making it harder to pull off a casual walk.

Peter can crow all he likes about people giving a shit about him, but it's. not ever that simple.]

... Everyone's downstairs?

[After a moment, Peter nods.]

Uh... yeah... Maybe they didn't hear any of that?

[He says it with a sheepish smile and all the knowledge in the world that they definitely heard the muffled quarreling. As they make their way downstairs, Peter stands his collar up a bit more, not too eager for anyone to see the marks there; it doesn't cover them totally, but if he walks quick enough, nobody'll know.

As they walk into the main cafeteria area, all the workers mysteriously seem to be on the tail-end of rushing to nonchalant spots, like that's where they've always been, and Peter smiles and gives Sanji a quick thumbs up.]

I'll get what I need out of the freezer.

[He's not trying to abandon Sanji, but he figures it'd be good to get out of an area where people can scrutinize him... aaaand he can also ask Celeste for her make-up bag, maybe. They have pretty similar skin tones? So y'know. He can just make-up the issue away.

Seems like the perfect plan.]

[Leaving him to fend for himself when he's been MIA for the past three days? Sure, Peter, that's a brilliant plan that Sanji is sure to like. His mouth twists into the beginnings of dissent, but rather than say a word, he instead walks off to hold up a wall by his lonesome, near one of the cafeteria's corners.

-- And of course, his solitude lasts for all of 30 seconds before people trickle in his direction. He must look tired or just pathetic with his head bowed and arms folded, his complexion still pale -- the residents instinctively know to treat him with kid gloves, sliding him gentle nudges and large smiles while welcoming back his return. Was he sick? Ah, flu's going around, isn't it. Sandy, ya gotta take better care of yourself, we've been eating like shit without ya.]

... Yeah, I'll -- sorry. [Feeling his face give a slight flush, Sanji rubs at his neck and just. allows their goodwill without complaint, and tries to ignore how everyone grins all the more for it.

More than one person tells him that Peter was sulking without him around.]

Tch. I already heard all about it.

[Scoffing under his breath, his eyes pick their way to the kitchen doors. No matter how high the urge to escape from everyone's prying eyes is, he grumpily surrenders himself to wait until Peter shows up]

[This is crazy, Peter thinks, leaving Sanji to the horde (and knowing full well he can't slip away with them holding down the fort, sorry, buddy). He presses a bag of frozen vegetables against his neck and feels a little sick for a moment — not only did something fucking crazy happen to Sanji somewhere in the Vinsmoke mess, but it's obviously a pattern. And not only is that a thing, but so is the fact that he'd just kissed the guy. Not even just a peck on the cheek or something to be stupid, but —

He honestly didn't expect it, and he's the one who did it.

What the hell, Pete?]

... This is crazy, this is crazy — this is way past mixing business with pleasure...

[Alright, maybe mumbling at himself in front of a fridge isn't the way to go about this. He lets things go on for a while as he nurses himself, mostly just letting Sanji melt back into the usual hustle and bustle, and when he does finally reappear, people part like the red sea and go their separate ways. Peter wants to ask... a lot of things, honestly. What the hell happened to him. Why he wasn't remotely surprised, at whatever they did. Why they did it. Who, exactly, did it.

But he knows he can't, not without making it painfully clear he knows who Sanji really is.

Who is family really is.

And that... that would probably really scare him away for good.

As long as he can manage it... he'd like to hold onto him. Just... a little longer.

Just until he can find a way to help.

Because that's what Spider-Man does.]

*****

["To think we'd have missed this guy, if Sanji wasn't screwing around with him and that FEAST place."

Of course, Peter isn't aware of the roster of names the Vinsmokes have on file — all scientists, all people who excel at genetics, at neurology, at biophysics and robotics. He's not aware of the blue-haired Vinsmoke's return to the Vinsmoke estate, nor of the casual flick-flicking of fingertips through those newly added case files, to the last name Parker. Nor is he aware of the stack of Otto Octavius' work that he'd directly been involved in, all with regards to neural enhancements, all pulled up since their little discovery.

"Not a bad addition to the people we bought out from Oscorp; this kid was offered spots with them a bunch of times, too," they say, "Any enhancement is a good enhancement, don't you think, boss? This kid did help make a real monster: that Doctor Ock guy they have locked up tight on the Raft."

The file slaps the desk.

"... Keep an eye on him, then. Everyone has a price they'll bend to — or a threat."

Maybe their little failure can supply them this much, after masquerading among the poor and undeserving.]

[In the meanwhile, Peter has some things to attempt himself.

Like talking to Sanji after the world rights itself, in FEAST.]

So...!

[Peter plops his butt on the island table in the kitchen, once the world around them have settled into something familiar enough. He's bitten his tongue about the whole... everything, and he's even skillfully convinced everyone he's just into turtlenecks for a day or two, until the bruises are gone. He's kinda more focused on the whole Dr. Phil thing, which is... tricky, because he can't ask anything that directly, and even if he wanted to, Sanji's got a hair-trigger temper sometimes. Most times. A lot of the time.]

How's... everything?

[Nailed it.

Man, he sucks at this.

But they're actually alone for once, so maybe it's a good time to... fish a little?

Probably not, but a guy can dream.]

I mean, do you feel alright now? Not sick or anything, right?

Oh? We finally starting the shitty interrogation, eh?

[The man glances up from his dishes, sweatshirt sleeves pulled all the way to his elbows as the soap suds drip off his arms. The look he shoots the brunette is thoroughly unimpressed. Sorry, Peter, your job is not helped by the fact that Sanji is perpetually grumpy and sharp with suspicion, so the fact that Peter sucks at this? Obvious to both parties in the kitchen.

... At least the atmosphere in the room isn't... hostile. Sanji doesn't seem much surprised, either, by the fact he's been cornered all by his lonesome to sate Peter's curiosity. The bastard is terrible at keeping to himself anyway; Sanji knew it was a matter of time. He wastes a moment pulling a towel up by his teeth and toward his hands -- shut up, he doesn't want the floor to get wet reaching over with his arms -- before continuing with an answer, voice relatively even-keeled.

Peter better enjoy it while it lasts]

No, I'm not sick. Whatever shit was in my system ran its course.

[Helped by Sanji smoking the poison out of his body, since he might as well use that fire perk if he's got it. He's had time to remove any toxins, too, as the last three days, Sanji hasn't... gone home, either.

Where he sleeps is a small mystery -- it's not in Peter's room. But lately, he hasn't left the shelter once his shift is over, just excuses himself to the second floor and vanishes soon after. For most of them, solving the mystery is more trouble than it's worth. The facility has already accepted Sanji as their chef; makes sense that no one bats an eye when he regresses into FEAST's fidgety cat upon nightfall.]

-- Oh, and I'm not telling you shit about my family, my circumstances, or anything else you can get your nosy mits on, so don't bother.

[This is the guy you kissed twice, Peter]

[... He retracts both kisses. One kiss of which has never been brought up again, not by him, not by Sanji, and they both seem more than prepared to forever keep it that way. Deflating a little and giving Sanji a dead-eyed, unimpressed look, he clears his throat.]

H'okay, fine. I'm just worried, you know?

It's my job to worry about everyone in here. Like, almost literally. And you did kind of scare me back there, so I'm making sure you're gonna be okay. Like how friends are supposed to do.

[He flutters his eyelashes innocently where he's sitting atop the table.

You'd think he'd taken a whole tray of cookies for himself.

(He'd never... at FEAST, anyway.)]

[Sanji's retort is throwing a wet towel directly on Peter's forehead with a satisfying smack.

This is the guy you wanted to be friends with, Peter]

Pretty damn sure the last time we had this conversation, I had to remind you that being friends with assholes who go into traces and start choking people is bad for your health.

[Voice still light (and quiet, no need for anyone to overhear them talking), but there's a pointed jab hidden underneath, proof that Sanji isn't okay with what happened and doesn't think Peter should be, either.]

[He rolls his eyes.]

You act like we haven't had drug addicts or people having mental breaks try to strangle me.

This place doesn't exactly have any shortage of rough situations.

[But alright, it's clearly not gonna be a thing they're talking about much. He'll have to figure out another way to sink some barbs in and taser the information out of Sanji. Metaphorically, of course. Very metaphorically, even if he would love to shove one of those hand-zappers into his face one of these days.]

Okay, okay. Uh. Then good news, I guess. I finally got an apartment — It'll just be another week or two before it's ready, and I'll finally be not... technically homeless!

[Ha. But after a moment, he fishes out a folded-up letter from his breast pocket.]

And...!

A research lab reached out and actually wants me to come in for an interview. Not that I'm too familiar with them — they're pretty new, and all — but their prospects look good, and they seem like they have a pretty squeaky clean record. Y'know, comparatively, anyway.

Also, health care. Health care! I haven't had health insurance in forever.

Edited 2019-04-26 01:45 (UTC)

[Oh -- well. Okay, topic change, then. Makes Sanji realize how rare it is for them to shoot the breeze and not have it end in a disaster of sorts.

So much as he wants to press the issue (again), because Peter clearly needs the reminders, Sanji stows his discontent and tries for a smile instead, a crooked one that comes out vaguely amused but ultimately honest.

Peter is happy. That's what's important.]

Oi, congrats. A crib and a job, eh?

[Eyeing the letter amiably before he reaches over and pilfers it, wet fingerprints making a mark on the paper. He snaps it open] Damn, and they're the ones who found you? Your luck's really turning--

[--

No.]

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