Sing to the Sky {31 Days Of Peter Parker Whump}

8-Parties

He knew the rules. Knew generally what he was doing. They'd been over the rules a thousand times before.

He figured the atmosphere would feel like his high school. Loud, close, a little bit on the claustrophobic side, disorienting, anxiety-inducing. There's no good way to prepare for that sort of atmosphere, but Peter tried nonetheless to mentally prepare.

*

It wasn't hard for Peter to fit in. He was naturally excitable about sciences and maths and innovation. It was incredible for him to be meeting all these people with such big, bright ideas.

He introduced himself as Peter Parker, personal intern of Tony Stark. Everyone kind of stared at him funny at that one, but later Tony would sweep by and confirm it with one of his easy, dazzling smiles.

Peter was like a little puppy, bouncing around with big eyes and throwing his full attention on everyone who would talk to him like an adult. He hated the ones who would look at him like he was an incompetent child who would never understand their ideas or visions.

After a couple hours of wandering around the venue, easily squishing through the sea of bodies, he goes to get a drink from the open bar.

"Just a soda," he says, smiling brilliantly at the woman behind the counter.

"No alcohol?" she says, pulling a glass from under the counter.

"No. I'm 16. Just a pop," Peter says again, "this is fantastic."

"That's nice, kid. Here you are," she says, pouring a can of sprite into the glass and sliding it across to the kid. He grins, thanking her quickly for he drink.

He's onto his third, happily rambling to the bartender who seems to take a liking to the kid as he hurriedly talks about some of the things he's seen and some of his own ideas.

Soon, a tall man is sitting next to him ordering beer.

"What's a kid like you doing in a place like this?" The man asks, easily popping the top off his bottle and taking a swig.

He's big, broad shoulders and tall. Dirty blond hair falling around his angular face and tan skin, letting his blue eyes pop against the colors. He's wearing a suit and intoxicating cologne that makes Peter's stomach twist and knot, telling him to get out, though he isn't sure why.

"I'm not a kid. I'm 16," Peter retorts, unsure why he wants to fight the guy on this when normally he'd just move on.

"I know. You're Peter Parker, right? Word has it you're Stark's personal intern?"

Peter nods, pressing his lips into a thin line. He doesn't want this guy to start prying at his personal life.

"I'm Jameson. Grant Jameson," he introduces, holding out a hand with perfectly groomed cuticles.

Peter takes it as his eyes grow into saucers. "Jameson? Like the Jameson? I'm a huge fan of your work!"

"Really? Stark let's you look at my work?" Grant says, a humorless laugh leaving his big mouth as he holds the kid's hand too tight, too long. He finally lets go and laughs again. "Me and Stark have a pretty big rivalry going currently. Not pretty."

"I know," Peter admits, suddenly finding his glass interesting as he refuses to look up at the man.

"I had an important question for you, Peter. I heard you're pretty smart and I'm looking for my own intern. Someone smart and cute like you could be a great help to the team," Grant says, leaning closer to the kid.

Peter stumbles backwards, almost falling as he gets off the chair and away from Grant's alcohol stained breath. Guess the beer wasn't his first drink.