Thank you so much for over 1k reads! Ily all <3
Also I have an Instagram now where I share edits and talk about random things (basically am my bisexual fangirl weird self). If you're interested it's marvelousmal23
I love this chapter so much and it's like the longest chapter I've ever written
Sorry the title sucks I couldn't think of anything (I was so close to just naming it fuck that's how clueless I was)
Anyway, enjoy :)
Fuck.
That's all Peter could think.
Fuck Tony. Fuck the Avengers. Fuck his life.
Fuck everyone that screwed him over.
Fuck everyone who screwed him up.
Fuck
Them
All
Anger took hold, and he began to run. He ran and ran, not knowing where he was going, just knowing it was away from everyone. His breath started to come in bursts. His lungs felt on the verge of collapse. He didn't know how long he'd been running, but it had to have been a while.
Finally, his body gave up, and he collapsed onto his knees.
"FUCK!" he screamed, hitting the ground hard with his fist.
Screaming hot pain exploded through his hand, and he looked to see redness blooming all across it.
But he didn't care. The pain felt good. The pain centered him.
Peter breathed in and out, and after a few minutes, he'd managed to catch up on breathing. Then he looked at his surroundings for the first time. He was on the side of a road surrounded by trees. He looked down the road and managed to see a building in the distance. He couldn't tell what it was, but he didn't care.
Where there was a building, there were people. Where there were people, there was a person who knew the closest place to get some form of alcohol.
And that's all he wanted.
He stood up, ignoring the cracked pavement where he had punched the ground and the small ache in his legs. He started to walk towards the building, praying that it was either a bar, club, or store.
As he was walking, Peter looked down and noticed he still had the cigarette in his hand. He quickly dropped it and stepped on it as hard as he could. He then checked over himself. His hand was still red and would probably end up bruising for a few hours. He was wearing some black jeans, a tight white shirt, and an old pair of tennis shoes that were falling apart at the seams (the run probably hadn't helped, they were pretty fucked up before).
Finally, he stood in front of the building, and when the sign saying 7-Eleven stared back, he almost burst into tears of joy. Peter immediately rushed inside and headed straight toward the adult beverage aisle. He stared at the drinks trying to decide what direction to go.
He wanted to get drunk off his ass. Which wasn't easy when you're enhanced. It took a lot more alcohol for him to start feeling a buzz. Which is why he stuck to stronger stuff.
He grabbed a bottle of vodka, deciding this would do. Buying loads of liquor would be more than suspicious. There had to be some kind of town nearby. And where there was a town, there was always a bar.
Peter went up to the register, setting the bottle down on the counter and pulling out his wallet. The cashier looked him over and then began ringing him up.
"ID," the older man said.
He pulled out his license and showed it to the man. After a few seconds of looking at it, the man nodded, and Peter put the license away.
"That'll be fifteen bucks."
He pulled out the cash, a couple of fives and ones, and left it on the counter. The man put it in the register, gave him the receipt, and told Peter to have a nice day. He immediately grabbed the bottle and started walking towards the door when he stopped and turned back around towards the cashier.
"Is there a town near here?" he asked.
The cashier looked back up at him. "About a mile down the road. You can't miss it. Just head that way," the man said, pointing towards the opposite direction Peter had come from.
He nodded, taking in the information. "Is there a bar there?"
The guy looked over him for a few seconds. "Yeah. Tim's."
Peter smiled. "Thanks."
He left before the cashier could respond. As soon as he was outside, he opened the vodka and drank about a third of it. The familiar burning sensation entered his throat, and his body instantly relaxed.
He started walking the way the cashier had told him, taking a drink from the bottle every once in a while. He couldn't feel anything and knew the bottle wasn't going to be enough. But that's what the bar was for. He'd get some shots, maybe manage to get a few free drinks. That's as far as his plan got.
That's when he realized his phone was back at the house. But it didn't matter. He could walk back or convince someone to give him a ride.
After about twenty minutes (he thought, but what the fuck is time anyway), he came upon the town. It was smaller but still had quite a few buildings. A few people were walking around. But otherwise, it looked pretty empty.
But it didn't feel empty. It felt homey.
There were older elements to the town: a Hardware store, an Antique shop, some kind of thrift store. And then there were newer buildings with smaller restaurants. Through everything, he pointed out Tim's fairly fast. The building didn't look as old, but maybe it had just been repainted.
As he walked over he went to take a drink from the vodka, only to realize the bottle was empty. Peter threw the bottle into the trash and then entered the bar. The bar was fairly empty and yet full. A group of older men were sitting in the corner, laughing and drinking beers. A couple was sharing drinks and talking. Then there were the stragglers sitting around drinking by themselves. Some at the tables, some at the bar.
The bar wasn't anything special, but he liked bars like that. It was smaller and kind of run down. A random rock song played over the speakers, not too loud but not too quiet. He immediately went to the bar, sitting down on a stool. A man stood with their back turned on the other side of the bar.
Must be the bartender.
He thought about what he was going to get, and that's when the bartender turned around. Peter's heart stopped.
The man was hot.
The bartender looked around his age, tall with blue eyes and shorter brown hair.
Not to mention the man's body. Damn.
"Hi. I'm Ashton. What can I do for you today?"
"Shot of tequila."
"Straight for the hard stuff. Props to you. I am gonna have to see your ID first. Bar's policy."
Peter smiled. "No problem."
He pulled out his license for the second time today and showed the bartender. Ashton took it for a moment, then handed it back.
"Nice to meet you, Peter," Ashton said with a smile.
"You too, Ashton."
"Call me Ash."
He watched as Ash grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured it into the shot glass, setting it down in front of him.
Peter immediately grabbed it and gulped it down in one go. The burning sensation returned, but he didn't even so much as wince. He just set the glass back down and stared right back at the bartender.
Ash whistled. "Damn."
The bartender poured another shot, but this time he let it sit there for a moment. Didn't want to be too suspicious.
"I haven't seen you around before. You just drop by?" Ash asked.
"I've got some business around here. Don't know how long I'll be staying."
Ash smiled. "Well, you're always welcome here."
"Do you know what time it is? Forgot my phone."
Ash looked at a watch. "About two."
Fuck. It was already the afternoon.
"Thanks. I don't have any plans for tonight, you suggest anything?"
Ash leaned an arm against the bar. "There isn't much to do around here at night. Most people just come here. It's the best time to be here. It's all lively, like a giant party."
"Maybe I'll stay."
Ash smiled. Before either of them could say anything, one of the older men from the corner table came right beside Peter.
"Hey, Ash, can we get another round?"
"Sure, Earl."
Ash went to start getting the drinks for the table. Meanwhile, he chugged down the next shot. He still didn't feel much of anything. The older man, Earl, stared right at him.
The older man began to laugh. "I ain't never seen no one drink a shot of tequila that easily. Let alone a youngster like you."
"I'm pretty good with alcohol."
"I'll say. Hey, Ash, put his next shot on me."
"Sure thing Earl."
Peter never turned down a free drink. Alcohol was fucking expensive, especially when you had to drink enough to make a person pass out just to feel a slight buzz. So when Ash placed the next tequila shot down, he knew he was going to drink it.
"Thanks," he said to Earl.
"Don't mention it. We'll see how you do on the second one."
"Third."
Earl looked back at him, confused. "What?"
Peter drank the shot in one sip, setting the glass down. "That was my third."
Earl stared at him for a moment before laughing hard. "Jesus Christ. Where the hell did you come from?"
"Queens."
The older man laughed harder. "I like you, kid. How about you come and sit with me and my buddies over there?"
He glanced over to the table. There were about three other older guys drinking. If he was back in Queens, he would've turned it down. But he was at some random bar, with some guys who'd probably get him so more free drinks.
So he smiled. "What the hell?"
Earl smiled back. The older man headed back to the corner table, and Peter followed. The rest of the group looked up and straight at him.
"Who's this?" one of the men asked.
"This is..." Earl began.
"Peter," he finished.
The man smiled. "Nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, don't be shy. We may be old, but we won't bite."
He sat down beside Earl.
"I'm John," the man said. "And this is Paul and Glenn. You already know Earl, I assume."
"Nice to meet you," he said.
"How old are you, Peter?" Paul asked.
"Twenty-two."
"God, I remember twenty-two," Glenn said.
John gave Glenn a look. "You don't even remember yesterday."
Glenn returned the look to John. "Shut up, John. Asshole."
Ash then came over with drinks. Everyone else got beers while he was left with another shot of tequila. He couldn't help but stare at Ashton. Now he could see the man's whole body. He drank the shot quickly, this time it was a little harder to go down. That was a good sign.
After Ash had put down all the drinks, he set down a bottle. Peter immediately recognized it as the tequila bottle.
"Thought I might as well just leave it here," Ash said.
"Thanks."
Ash walked away, and he couldn't help watching him leave. And maybe staring at the man's ass.
He spent the next few hours drinking, laughing, telling stories, drinking, talking, and did he mention drinking? By the end, he was feeling a buzz, and god, it felt good. The older men had been telling story after story, and he felt good only having to worry about listening to what the men were saying. Through all of this, he'd still glance over at Ash. Sometimes the man would stare back, and Peter would just smirk.
"You should tell him."
The voice startled him, and he looked over to see that the men were all staring.
"What?" he said.
"You should tell him," Earl repeated.
He was beyond confused with the statement. Or maybe the alcohol was just messing with his brain a little.
"It's obvious you got the hots for Ash."
"Was it that obvious?" he said.
The men all laughed. "Not horribly. Trust me, Glenn was way worse than you," John said.
"I wasn't that bad!" Glenn said defensively.
John looked at Peter. "He went up to me after staring at me for months just to ask where I got my hair done."
"Your hair looked good back then," he heard Glenn mutter.
"So you and Glenn are together?" Peter asked.
"Yup. Since the forties, fifties. One of those. Didn't officially get married till a few years ago," John said.
"Congrats," he said with a smile.
"Would've been sooner if it wasn't for the assholes who run this country," Glenn said.
John raised a beer. "I'll drink to that."
"Me and John lost our husbands to AIDs," Earl said solemnly.
Peter felt his heart break at that. "I'm so sorry."
Earl smiled. "It's alright. It was a horrible time. I'm just happy that the world is changing. That you young folk can be yourselves and have opportunities that we didn't. But enough about that, back to you talking to Ash over there."
"In the words of the youth," John said. "Or at least, what my great-niece told me, YOLO."
Peter couldn't stop the laugh from escaping. He drank another shot of tequila, stood up, and went over to the bar. He could hear some yelps and cheers from behind him, and he couldn't help but smile.
He wouldn't lie. He was most definitely getting tipsy. But that just seemed to fire him up even more. He stopped at the bar. Ash was on the same side as him, cleaning the top with a rag, but stopped and turned towards him with a smile.
"Hi, Peter. You or any of the guys need anything?"
"I need something."
"What can I do for you?"
Peter leaned forward, and Ash seemed to follow. He stared right into Ash's eyes, not even thinking about looking away. There was tension. No one could deny it. What kind of tension, he didn't know. But it was there.
And it was electric.
He leaned forward even farther and spoke into Ash's ear. "I need your body on mine."
He moved back only to see a surprised look on Ash's face.
"If you want to, of course," Peter continued.
All of a sudden, Ash grabbed Peter's hand and started to drag him towards a door. He knew where this was going immediately, and god did he like it. Ash opened a door and brought him inside, shutting and locking it behind them.
It was a storage room. Smaller, but not as small as some he'd been in before.
The pair stood still for a second, staring right at each other. Peter had figured out what the tension was. And the thought made his body shiver. They started to get closer and closer like a magnet was pulling them together.
A questioning look entered Ash's face. "Are you sure you want to-"
Before Ash could finish, Peter crashed his lips onto Ash's. Their tongues roamed each other's mouths, fighting a war that neither could win.
His arms roamed along Ash's body, from back to waist, to ass. Ash did the same.
They spent a few minutes exploring, getting to know the territory. It lasted longer than normal, but Peter didn't mind. He'd spent the last few hours staring at this body. He needed a few minutes just to roam. To calculate, to understand. After those minutes of roaming were up, they pulled apart, breathless and hot.
The shirts were the first to go. Peter watched Ash's eyes roam his muscles. He started kissing Ash's neck, getting lower and lower, leaving hickeys as he went. Ash released a moan, and that just made him want to do more.
The shoes and pants were next. Then the underwear.
As they both stood there, eyes roaming each other's bodies, Peter decided he was glad he came here. Sure, the drinks and talking were nice, but this.
This was fucking glorious. Peter had missed this.
He collapsed his lips and body onto Ash's, lowering them both to the ground. He pulled away and looked down over Ash. Ash looked up at him.
"Fuck," Ash said breathily.
Peter smirked. "If you insist."
———————--————————
Peter watched Ash put his clothes back on. He had already finished getting dressed. So he was admiring the view.
"You're staring," Ash said with a smile.
"Nothing I haven't seen."
Ash finished putting on the shirt and turned towards him. "That was..."
"Hot?"
"More than hot. I've never done something like that before."
"I'd be a liar if I said I haven't either."
Ash seemed to deflate a little. "Oh."
"But that was definitely the best experience I've ever had in one of these rooms. Though that's probably because of the room, it's a lot bigger than normal."
"Yeah. Definitely the room."
Peter walked forward and grabbed Ash's ass. "Definitely."
"You looking for Round Two?"
"I've got all night."
Ash laughed. "I don't. I left my coworker alone on a night shift. I'm surprised he hasn't burst in here yet."
Peter laughed and followed Ash out of the closet. Ash went back to the bar while he went back to the corner table. The older men were all still there, and they looked up at him. He sat back down where he was before and poured another shot of tequila, downing it in one go.
"You owe me ten bucks," said Earl, breaking the silence.
All the other men handed over the money while he watched, confused.
"What was that for?" he asked.
"I bet you were going to come out of that room, and the first thing you were going to do was drink a shot of tequila. And that's exactly what you did."
The whole group laughed at that. Peter spent some more time with the older men, continuing to talk and drink. He had no clue what time it was, but more people had come into the bar. Ash was right. This was like a party. The music had gotten louder, the people had gotten louder. Everything was louder.
Normally this would annoy Peter, but he was too out of it to care. The drinks had finally gotten to him. He knew that. Everything blurred all together into a mess of colors, sounds, stories, and tequila. Before he knew it, a hand was on his shoulder. It took him a minute to register it.
"Hey, kid. You need a ride?" Earl asked.
Did he need a ride? How had he gotten here?
He stared up at Earl. Wait, since when was Earl standing? Since when were any of the older men standing? He glanced over at the tequila bottle, which was empty. Since when had that happened?
"Kid?"
"Hm?" he hummed.
"I'll take that as a yes. Come on."
Peter slowly got up and followed Earl. On the way across the bar, he noticed Ash working. He couldn't just leave without saying goodbye.
That would be rude as hell.
So he went over to the bar, or more like stumbled and stopped in front of Ash. Ash noticed him immediately and smiled.
"You heading out, Peter?"
"I'm getting a ride from Earl. But not that kind of ride, the car one. Or a truck. Or a bus. I don't know what Earl drives."
Ash laughed. "That's good. Wait, before you leave."
Ash grabbed a napkin and a pen, wrote something on it, and then handed it to Peter. He looked over and read it.
Had a great time :)
212-617-0453
Ash
"Just in case you're ever in town again or want to talk. Only if you want to," Ash said.
Peter smiled widely. "Thanks."
Ash smiled back. "Take care, Peter. Have a good night."
"You too."
He stuffed the napkin into his pocket and stumbled back towards Earl and the others, following them out the door. It was pitch black outside. Since when was it night? What time even was it?
Peter followed the group to an older-looking car and watched the others get inside. He stood there for a second, not wanting to get in for some reason. It took his brain a few minutes to figure out what was wrong.
"Wait. Earl was drinking," he said.
Earl turned towards him. "I stopped after one beer. I was appointed designated driver tonight."
He thought over the night and realized that Earl had stopped drinking. Why hadn't he noticed that before now?
"Oh," he said and then got in the car, shutting the door. "Sorry."
"It's fine. It's a good thing you didn't just get in."
Earl started the car.
"So, where are you staying, Peter?"
Shit. He'd forgotten he had no clue what the address of the place was. And he can't exactly look it up since Tony probably doesn't advertise his house all over the place. And he doesn't have a phone.
"Uh, I don't know the address."
"That's alright. Do you know how to get there?"
He could direct them. It was just down the road, past the gas station where he got the vodka, and then down the road some more. And then there was a turn onto a smaller road, and then there was the house.
Easy peasy.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Alright. Right or left?"
"Left. And then down the road towards the gas station. That's a nice gas station."
"It is," Paul agreed.
Earl began driving, and the group began talking again.
"I never asked you, Peter, but are you here alone?" Glenn asked.
"No. I'm visiting some people."
"Ah. Like family?"
"No. My family's all dead. These people are a bunch of assholes."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Peter."
"It's fine. My parents died when I was young. I don't even remember them. So then my Uncle and Aunt took me in, and it was nice. When my Uncle died, it hurt a lot. And then when my Aunt died, that hurt a lot too. Did you lose anyone in the snap?"
"We were all snapped away," John answered.
"Oh," Peter said. "I wasn't. I didn't lose too many people I guess to the snap. Some coworkers. My mentor, well, former mentor. It's complicated. I lost my best friend. That fucking hurt. I went to see him a few days ago, and he didn't recognize me, so I just left."
He glanced around to see everyone looking at him, hurt looks on their faces.
That confused him. "What?"
"I'm so sorry, Peter. No one should have to go through that," Paul said.
"It's fine. I'm used to it. Besides, I can't sit around moping. I have responsibilities. I have people who need me. Who rely on me. To protect them and keep them safe."
"You have to protect people?" Glenn asked.
"Yeah, I'm Spi-" Peter began before realizing that sober him would probably be mad if he exposed his identity to a bunch of people he met at a bar. "I have a job where that's what I do. So yeah, I have to."
"You're a good kid, Peter," Earl said.
"Nah. I'm fucked up. I'm about to go back to the house and face the people I got into a huge argument with today because I smoke. They don't like that. And I don't think they'll appreciate me being drunk either."
"Probably not," Paul said. "But you gotta face them at some point."
He nodded. "Yeah, you're right."
For the rest of the ride, he listened to the others have conversations. He'd direct Earl the best he could. Otherwise, he listened to John and Glenn talk. They were a really cute couple. Peter recognized the side road and told Earl to turn. They drove down it, and after a few minutes, Peter saw the familiar house.
The car stopped right in front of it. He remained in the car, not ready to face them.
"It was really nice meeting you, Peter," Glenn said.
"You too. All of you. You guys are the coolest people I've ever met."
John laughed. "I doubt that, but I appreciate the sentiment."
"I mean it. I know some cool people, but you're way cooler."
Peter's door all of a sudden opened, and there stood Earl. Since when did Earl exit the car?
Earl and him started walking to the front door. Earl handed him a piece of paper with numbers on it, making Peter feel even more confused.
"My number," Earl said when seeing Peter's confused face.
"Oh," he said.
They both stopped in front of the door.
"Welcome back, Peter," FRIDAY said.
Earl jumped. "What the hell was that?"
"That was FRIDAY. Don't worry, she's nice," he said with a smile.
Before Earl could say another word, the door was thrown open. And there stood one of the last people he wanted to see.
Not Steve. That guy wasn't that bad.
Tony.
I'm sorry if the drinking and everything isn't authentic. I know a bartender wouldn't just give a person a whole bottle (probably, I'm literally clueless about this stuff so I have no damn clue). But this is a fanfiction and I said fuck being authentic I need this to happen so it's going to happen.
Also pretty much 95% of this chapter was totally unplanned and off the top of my head. I had no plans for the old men at all and they weren't even supposed to be as big as they were in this chapter, they were just going to show up for a few seconds. Then I started writing and fell in love with them lol
Next chapter is interesting that's for sure ;)