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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All of the above.

I was the skinny kid with glasses, who worked on robots for science fairs and ate lunch in the chem room to avoid getting my head shoved in a toilet.

[Looking at his abs and well-appreciated company now?

Talk about a fucking glow-up.]

... Damn.

[Puberty was very kind to someone. Sanji can't help but give Peter another glance over, eyebrows arched and head shaking in vague amazement. Bodies are weird.]

You still do that stuff now? Robotics?

... Yeah. I mean... Yeah!

[Oh, that seems to throw him off for a moment. Because actually, he does — he did.

Not even as Spider-Man.]

It didn't work out, but, um. I did do some work. Mostly robotic prostheses for amputees.

Funds ran empty, though, and the guy I worked for... well, he got into some hot water.

[He's being honest, though almost brutally omissive. But how is he supposed to tell Sanji that his idol, friend, and boss had been the one to cause Devil's Breath? Who killed his aunt and so many others? Who betrayed his trust and completely ruined everything they accomplished together? No, there are still too many terrible memories from that, memories that probably haunt the expression he wears now.]

I've been considering some job opportunities. Just need time to think.

[Sanji makes no comment on Peter's sudden, flustered moment, just nods with a soft hum and shoots his gaze forward.

If anything, he's a little... relieved, knowing that Peter's work has only covered robotic prostheses. Means there's little in the way of overlap with genetic engineering and mapping. His father likely wouldn't know of him.

Good. That's good. Just a wholesome career for a wholesome guy. Nothing that would get his dumb ass into trouble.]

I'm sure something'll come up. If you're that much of a nerd, bet you'd be in high demand no matter the position.

[Breezing right along, Sanji voluntarily nudges Peter in the shoulder]

Oi, but anyway -- where's this shitty pizza place of yours, eh?

[Just gonna gently steer them toward a topic that (hopefully) doesn't freeze Peter up.]

Not too far, promise.

... We really have to work on what you use 'shitty' as an adjective on...

[He's humored more than anything, though (and relieved that the guy's steering the conversation away from the uglier stuff). Leave it to some mob boss' son to be a potty mouth in general — it all seems like knee-jerk conversation seasoning. He nudges him with an elbow as they carry on down the New York street, and they pass the time with the most inane chatter about pizza toppings and if 'fruit pizzas' can actually be such a thing — as well as the classifications of what makes a sandwich.

By the time Peter shoulders the door open to the dingy little pizza place, he's more than happy to get out of that weather; Larry himself is visible in the back, casually slinging dough, while his wife chews gum at the little bar and checks her nails.

She brightens and waves, when she notices Peter.

"Hey, handsome! Haven't seen you around lately! I've been getting bored of this old bastard back here."

Larry just huff-grunts, as is his personality.

(Sanji, look, it's you in 40 years.)]

Oh, well — had to bring in a friend to try out your stuff! He's never been.

[The woman with the nametag 'Priscilla' looks Sanji up and down, smacking on her gum. "... He's pretty cute, too. I guess he can stay. But we don't allow smoking in here!" Apparently, she has the nose of a bloodhound.]

[Peter gets lucky. Entering the store cuts off Sanji's energetic rebuttal on why pineapple pizza is not the sin of humanity everyone thinks it is, that shit makes perfect sense from a flavor standpoint--

... Man, but what a dingy looking place Peter leads them into. Dime a dozen in this city, the type that his family wouldn't be caught dead in. Heh, he likes it already. And his eyes roam across the off-colored walls before they settle on Priscilla, offering both a nod of consent and a low smile]

Wouldn't dream of it.

[They didn't stop for cigarettes anyway, so yeah. Sanji's dry of his usual poisons. ~~ignore that icon~~]

He says you guys make good pizzas. [A nod in Peter's direction.]

[Larry just grunts in the back, accent thick and almost sooty in nature. "They'll fill you up." Which is to say, Larry is definitely so humble it's probably a negative trait at this point on the 'humble' scale. But Peter just grins at the man who doesn't even look their way.

"You're the man, Larry!" someone hollers, a bit tipsy, from the back of the relatively well-stocked bar area. There's a baseball game on — a rerun, or maybe one from a later timezone; Peter's not paying it too much attention as he sits down at one of the tall tables nearest to the bar.]

He's one of the best. I know just the pizza to get, too.

That's kind of the best way to find anything in New York — look for places with a lot of history. Larry's dad, grandpa, and great grandpa ran this place. [He leans forward, keeping his voice low.] His dad was totally nuts, and when I was little he used to tell me my glasses were how the government was tracking my movements.

I mean, he gave me candy from his pocket that was probably a million years old after that, so he wasn't so bad. But definitely crazy.

[Humility is a commodity that Sanji can appreciate, no matter how much shit he gives Peter for it. His eyes remain locked on Larry working the dough, too, bright with interest, until Peter steers them toward a table. Hn, gotta wonder if it's bad manners to ask the guy some questions later...

-- Also it's kinda awkward knowing his father probably pulled the "bugged glasses" bullshit on someone with a lot of money and secrets, so this sounds like a valid concern to him. #mafiaproblems]

What, you had glasses, too? Shit, did you dump everything that outed you as a nerd?

[Looking almost disappointed by this. Sanji could have been calling Peter four-eyes this entire time]

And I dunno -- we live in a city where someone dresses in spandex and swings from buildings. Bugged glasses sounds almost tame in comparison.

I'm gonna just ignore that you were agreeing with Grandpa Larry Senior for a second there, just so I can find offense at you being mean to young me. Glasses can be totally popular and cool!

[... His hands wilt a bit from his lively gestures.]

It's just the other added characteristics I had that made me a nerd.

[He blows out a breath, tapping his hands on the table.]

School was rough. I'm more than happy not to relieve that mess again. [Oh! As he talks, Priscilla delivers a menu and a coupla pints, something to just start getting the edge off; Peter's never been much of a drinker, really — especially not since that time he did a bunch of backflips and hugged a pizza box to sleep, to which MJ took photos that she's safeguarded on icloud — but he does like loosening up a little.

Hell, he really could use it. The last few months have bean nightmarish.

... So maybe this is kind of an excuse for him to relax. It's easier to force himself when he thinks he's only doing it to get Sanji acquainted with the pizza shop.] ... Any toasts you'd like to do? Though I guess a pint isn't really as fancy as a wine glass...

Oi now, don't get jealous, I can agree with whoever I wanna.

[Leaning the weight of his chin into a hand, nearly smirking. Since he can't make fun of young Peter for being a nerd (he is, in fact, not quite that meanspirited), this will have to do for now.

That pints are a surprise, though, as Sanji hadn't expected to do any drinking tonight. His glance is dubious at best when he eyes it down. In all the ways this could go poorly...]

Oh, y'know -- we could toast to us not getting mugged on our way back because we're too drunk to walk in a straight line.

[What a killjoy. Though in a more serious response, Sanji shrugs while lifting his pint. He's never had anything worth toasting to, to be honest. Certainly not his family, his life... so maybe instead:]

Why not to FEAST? May it keep standing and avoid shitty big rigs for the foreseeable future.

[Peter raises a glass. What? It's not like he's gonna go crazy with it or anything. He's really good at self-control, and all that! Totally not a problem. As he clinks his with Sanji's, he can only smile a little.]

To FEAST and avoiding shitty big rigs.

[And down the hatch.

That's totally the only pint being delivered, mission accomplished, that's plenty enough.]

[... So anyway, a few pints in, there are definitely two pizzas being delivered to the table. And there's a rowdy crew at the bar, who are probably the ones sending over more drinks after the initial drink, and they're playing darts, and it's totally great. He's not sure how he got to the point where he's leaning over the table, wagging a cheesy slice of pizza, and definitely looking a little flushed with drunkenness.

But he's not drunk.

Spider-Man's not allowed to get drunk, in case he needs to be Spider-Man. You know?]

I totally can grow facial hair! I just choose not to. It's a preference!

[Yeaaah, some of those pints Peter packs away might have belonged to Sanji at one point, at least until he declined to drink further. Two is enough for him. No amount of goading from the Rowdy McRowders will change his mind, either, when he's clearly gonna be babysitting for the rest of the night.

Because Peter is lit like a Christmas tree, face warmed by the alcohol and now all excited motions that are gonna topple him to the floor if he doesn't watch out. Which makes for the best entertainment Sanji's had in years. For once, he does not hide his grin, just leans back into his chair while taking a bite out of his folded piece of pizza (his third slice, shut up, let him live).]

Your chin is always gonna look like a baby's bottom, just accept it and move on with your shitty life.

[This, by far, the weirdest conversation piece that's been up for debate tonight.... but still an improvement from Peter fervently asking Sanji if his eyebrows can hypnotize people, the drunken shit.]

... We can agree you'd look really fuckin weird with a beard, though.

[0/10 on the Sanji approval scale, please don't grow one, Peter]

[You absolute fiend.

Well... Peter's got a lot going on in his head. It doesn't always seem like it, does it? But he does. So drinking a little more than usual to loosen up shouldn't be such a big deal! He's enjoying himself with a pal (who happens to be a mafia member) in one of his favorite pizza joints.

But then Sanji goes after his chin, and he covers it up, gasping.]

I'd look great with a beard! I mean, I wouldn't look like a rugged mountain man, but I'd at least be able to pass for a 2000's emo band... [He snort-laughs, a symptom of an excess of booze. Lord be with us.] Hey, Larry! I could totally do a beard, right?!

[Larry, shockingly, huffs a laugh from the back.]

... Man, K.O. Just bury me already...

[He leans in, red-cheeked, whispering conspiratorially.]

Hey, but you should ask Larry to show you the kitchen. He's got a real soft spot for younger cooks — it honestly really makes him happy, y'know? Even if he doesn't say it.

[Giving his eyes a good natured roll, despite having also leaned halfway across the table to hear what Peter has to say.]

Oi now, I'm not here to bother him...

[As much as he appreciates Larry shaming Peter for his beard fascination, Sanji is trying to be on his best behavior -- even if he's thrown inquisitive glances at the kitchen all night long, as if trying to osmosis as much knowledge as possible from sight alone. The techniques Larry uses aren't surprising or even that profound. They're just practiced, the type of dedication that comes from years and years of repetition.

Sanji watches the man work for a few more beats, eyes softened, his attachment to cooking on full display -- before returning his attention back to Peter, expression immediately sharpening with amusement]

Well. Maybe on a day when I'm not babysitting you. [Leeeeeeeaning over more] Your cheeks are so red it looks like you're blushing.

[This is what Peter gets for inviting this asshole along]

[He gasps, squinting offendedly at Sanji, before nudging him on the forearm with a finger.]

Who says I'm not babysitting you?

I'm totally the leader of this operation!

[GOTCHA. CAN'T BEAT THAT, CAN YA, CURLY BROW.

... He pulls back and puts his hands over his cheeks, stubbornly.]

........................

They are not.

Don't make me ask our dear Miss Priscilla how many drinks you've had already.

[ :) ]

Really, I'm impressed! It's like every assumption I make about you ends up being wrong. I'm not usually this bad at shitty guessing.

[Sanji: probably only admitting this because Peter is drunk and hopefully won't remember a word of it later]

-- Also, I'm the one between us who can walk in a straight line.

Of course I'm the goddamn babysitter tonight. Suck it up.

Ugh. I don't need a babysitter.

[And sure, he can't walk in a straight line — but he can still walk on walls! Not that that's... a thing he's gonna do in front of Sanji. Right. No walking on walls or anything like that, because... that's... a Spider-Man thing. Open, public bar + Spider-Man stuff - Mask = Trouble.]

Heeey! Larry! Sandy's gonna come ask for tips later!

[Sorry, did you wanna avoid being spotlit? Because here we are.

Priscilla just smiles and laughs, checking the clock on her phone. "Heyhey, It's a week day, you know. I'm thinking we should probably cut you guys off — don't you work at FEAST tomorrow, Petey?" She puts her chin in her hands and looks over at Sanji with a knowing smile. "Sandy, I think you need to cutt off handsome here, before he regrets the hangover."]

[Amusement immediately turning into a scowl when Peter opens his big mouth, Sanji pulls back into his seat, lips pursed together. He refuses to look Larry's way and grumbles under his breath]

And this is why I try to avoid going out in public with you, bastard...

[Just for that, he sure is gonna visit this pizza place by himself, without Peter, out of spite. He can make friends by himself!

His tune changes a little when Priscilla comes to his rescue. Ever see a kid visibly gloat when the parent takes their side? Yeah, Peter, that's one hell of a smirk being aimed your way when she isn't paying attention. Look at this; even the pretty ladies are cutting you off.]

Yeah, m'thinking it's past someone's bedtime. [Careful to polish off the last of his pizza, Sanji wipes his hands with a napkin before smoothly getting to his feet, arms stretched over his head to get the blood flowing.]

So, "handsome" -- [dead-eying Peter] You footing the bill or what?

[It's a good thing he's already red in the face.

You all are totally ganging up on him; he sees you, villains.]

Oh, yeah! Yeah, I got it...!

[Peter begins to fish into his wallet and plucking out wrinkled bills, as Priscilla seems to take note of it — and when the bill gets to Sanji, there are definitely drinks missing on the list that are conveniently missing. Peter'd be far more perceptive of this fact if he weren't wasted; maybe that's the point, as he leaves empties out his pocket for a tip that is almost predominantly composed of quarters.

Peter had planned to spend the last of his cash for the week on this outing, it seems.]

Let's get outta here, yeah...! F'I stay any longer, m'gonna totally fall asleep on the table...!

[... Sanji notes the inconspicuously missing drinks, yes. Just like he watches Peter with a measured glance as the latter fishes out a sad-looking fistful of bills to throw on the table. Both are enough to have him heaving a sigh to himself, but it not being his place to comment, he doesn't -- just warms his hands in his pockets and waits for Peter to get his coat back on.

He'll nod silently to Larry, grin and say his goodbyes to Priscilla -- yeah, yeah, he'll make sure Handsome gets home safe and sound -- and then it's out into the cold for both of them. As Peter predicted, it's pretty dark by this point, if well illuminated given the city lights. NYC doesn't sleep and all. Unless they stumble into an alleyways or move away from the bustle of the city, it shouldn't be so dark they can't get back to FEAST.

Hopefully.]

For the record: you run into a wall, I ain't gonna stop your shitty ass.

Suuuure. If I run into a wall, I totally meant to do it. Oh, here—!

[He slides his arm around Sanji's like they're in the Wizard of Oz, traveling the yellow brick road.

And grins like a little shit.]

There we go; now I won't go walking into any buildings.

[We're off to see the Wizard~]

[Greaaaaat, Peter is a clingy drunk. Of fuckin course he is. Sanji immediately balks and tries to wiggle his arm free]

Asshole, would you -- oi! You're gonna make me trip like this!

[Mostly because of Sanji's halfhearted attempts to dislodge himself, but details. With Peter that close, he might be able to note that Sanji is pretty warm, just comfortably radiating heat like a furnace. Probably the reason he can walk around in the cold only wearing a sweater.]

Keep it up and I'll kick you into a wall instead.

[Noooo you won't. But he's not gonna say that, because that makes you five-hundred times more likely to kick him into a wall. He keeps their arms linked anyway, and his eyebrows shoot up before he leans into the guy. Mostly just trying to figure out if that's normal or if he's got a fever and is Dying. No, wait, he's a fire-guy. He's suddenly pretty relieved that 'Sandy' gave away his oddities on the roof, so he has an excuse to know about his weird power business.]

Geez, you're warm. You ever consider a job as a professional oven?

[He's a barnacle; just give up, man.]

... You're not sick, are you? We can stop and grab something for that.

I mean, I know you're used to being high on the thermometer but...

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