Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A large metallic tentacle lunged toward the boy, already restrained to a pillar. Its claw enveloped his mouth, wrenching his head back against the unforgivable surface. He braced himself, teeth clenching as the cold arms coiled tighter around his frame, the sheer pressure splintering the concrete behind him.. He hasn’t even had breakfast yet. It's gonna be a long day..

Just an hour ago he had woken up with a fever, The bedsheets were tousled and his hair dampened with sweat. Despite having gone to bed at the normal time, he felt tired. or, his body felt tired. He grabbed a thermometer from the bathroom drawer and stuck it under his tongue. He didn’t feel sick, Just uncomfortably heated. Nothing worth missing school over … he hoped. 102.4°F. Shit. A high fever. He reached up to card his fingers through his hair, brows furrowing as he thought of what to do next. I can’t skip this test.. It’s worth half my grade. What a day to get sick. .. I'll be fine. I feel fine .. he stood in silence for another moment. “.. I’m fine – I’ll be fine. I’ve saved lives while sick.” he spoke with a huff as he headed toward his bedroom door, his tone tinged with uncertainty. He didn’t get far before the TV caught his attention, the news was on … you’ve gotta be shitting me. 

A groan escaped his throat at the sight of the familiar face on screen. Doc ock was making a scene on the bridge. There goes the test..  

“Hmmm..” the professor mused, now face to mask with the weakened boy. One arm remained clamped to the railing above, anchoring him effortlessly. “What’s up with you?” it was more a statement than a question, not really expecting an answer from his stifled lips. “ You've been studying late or something?..” his gaze swept over his enemies uncharacteristically weary state.. He’s never like this, he thought. Always so quick to dodge attacks, like he can sense them before they even happen. But today, today he's sluggish.. Breathless.. Vulnerable. 

His brows furrowed in irritation.“Talk to me, bug.”  his voice a mix of impatience and concern. He’s in no condition to fight back, he was’nt going to take advantage of that. Sure, the boy is a pain in the ass, but he’d never go out of his way to hurt him. Especially unfairly. The claw slinked away from the boy’s face to allow him a bit more freedom while the others kept him strapped to the pillar. 

A sharp gasp escaped the boy’s throat and his lungs greedily drew in air, just barely getting enough with the mask over his face. The professor took note of his struggle, but waited for him to speak up before taking action. 

“I ..” his breath hitched again and his head slumped forward, The reality of the situation starting to sink in–he can barely breathe, his body is burning up and now he’s pinned down completely in the arms of his enemy. It was starting to scare him. What’s wrong with me? Come on, Peter, say something. “Just.. sick or something..” he sputtered in short breaths. 

Ock raised a brow, looking him over with skepticism once more. “Sick?” he pushed, “I don’t know, I.. I have a fever, I feel weird– why are you asking me this.” he admitted, His tone irritated and defensive. He’s beginning to panic. “.. Well, there’s no point in fighting you while you’re like this.” he mused, “Go home and rest. Have your mommy make some chicken noodle soup, kid.” a clawed tentacle snaked up to pat the boy’s head before coiling around his body and lifting him off of the pillar, “At least now you have a real excuse for skipping school, yea?” he’s placed on his feet before he can respond, now standing on the bridge. “you know, instead of dressing up like a spider and fighting crime.” the teen in the spider–suit blinked. “.. anyway. get well soon.” and with that, he’s lifted off the ground by the tendrils and flees the scene, knowing he wouldn’t be followed. 

… 

The teen stood in silence for a moment before looking around, seeing the damage caused by the professor, as well as the concerned stares from the people who witnessed it, who are now solely focused on him. As if they were waiting for him to say or do something, anything. Probably hoping for some kind of reassurance.. He swallowed and straightened his posture, “Uh.. I’m ok–everything is fine. I just.. I need to ..” he trailed off as he aimed his wrist at a street lamp, only for the web to shoot a foot away from himself before falling limply, hanging from the gland.

“...”

He slowly looked back up at the people. their faces contorted into shock, and reasonable disgust at the disturbing display. Even he was disturbed. He swallowed the lump in his throat, muttering. “.. what the fuck is going on.”  

“--alright kiddo, lets go.” a gruff voice spoke behind him, just loud enough for him to hear. He whipped around to face the figure, who put a hand on his shoulder as he did. “It’s me – It’s me,” the familiar voice reassured. Peter’s tense demeanor immediately softened at the familiar face. He reached up to hold Stephens arm, a sense of safety washing over him. he let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding, “I – I don’t know what's wrong with me, Doc.. really, I –”, “kid, slow down. You’re not in trouble,” stephen interrupted firmly. his eyes flicked toward the audience before looking back at peter, “we’ll talk about this in the tower.” he removed his hand from Peters shoulder and stepped back, opening a portal. He waisted no time grabbing the teens arm and pulling him along as he entered.

“Kid..” Peter didn’t get a chance to speak before Tony lifted his mask and placed the back of his hand against the teens sweaty forehead. His gaze roamed over the teens flushed face, taking in his disheveled state. “You’re burning up.. What’s wrong with you, huh? ‘You sick? What was that?” he spoke firmly, as if lecturing him for doing something dumb or reckless. but the worry in his tone was clear. “I’m ok– I’m ok, I’m fine now..” Tony furrowed his brow and placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, “You’re not fooling me, kid. Look at you, you’re a mess.” he sighed and dropped his hand back to his side. “Sit down, rest.”, “really, It’s gotten better since this morning –”, “Peter. Sit down.” he glared down at the kid with a stern look. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Peter could see that. “Do you really want to argue with me right now?” he asked with a raised brow. Peter’s eyes drifted to the floor as he reluctantly answered, “.. No.” Tony placed his hand on the boys shoulder once more, giving it a reassuring squeeze before heading toward the elevator, “I’m gonna go grab some Nyquil and a cold towel,” He said, turning to face Peter once he reached the elevator, “You stay put or I’m calling aunt may, You hear me?” Peter nodded. “Good.” He gave the teen one last look before stepping into the elevator and letting the doors close. 

Once the doors had closed, Peter let out a whiney groan and slumped down onto the couch, an involuntary sigh escaping his throat as he allowed himself to sink into the cushions. “.. Yea, whatever dad.” he muttered. 

“Kid,” Peters' shoulders jolted at the voice, but quickly relaxed when he remembered Strange was still in the room. He turned to see Stephen leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, waiting for the coffee pot to fill. “..Jesus, man..” the teen huffed as he sat back on the couch and allowed his eyes to close. “He’s not mad at you. He’s harsh because he wants to protect you.” – “You know, you should really make your presence known instead of standing all mysteriously in a corner..”, “...” Stephen Frowned. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and set it on the counter, then turned to face Peter. “I mean it.” he began sternly, Leaning on the kitchen island, “You don’t need to pretend that you’re fine, that you can handle yourself just because he’s raising his voice. He doesn’t see any less of you, Peter. If anything, pushing him away will make him worse.” The Sorcerer's eyes burned into the back of the teens head, trying to gauge his reaction. The room was quiet, the only sound being soft fevered huffs and the low hum of the coffee maker. He sighed again and turned back to the counter, “You didn’t seem fine when I showed up.” This earned a quiet groan from the teen, who slumped further into the couch. “.. How did you know to show up at the most convenient time, anyway. What – Were you watching me through a crystal ball or something?” He asked half jokingly. “No, actually.” The Sorcerer spoke as he filled his mug, as well as a glass of water. “Stark and I were just practicing a scrying Ritual on the magical LED mirror when we shared a vision, a vision of you standing in the middle of traffic, barely functionable and hyperventilating.” Peter stared blankly. “.. really? –”, “The TV, Parker.” He scoffed.

Peter looked back at the screen in front of him. Of course, the news was on. “.. Oh.. Yea. Yea that makes sense."

 The line between sarcasm and genuineness is Thin with Strange. How could he expect any normal person to know the difference between made up fancy wizard bullshit and real fancy wizard bullshit. 

Stephen nudged Peter's shoulder, handing him a cold glass of water when he looked up. “Finish this, then lay down.” He said firmly before sitting down on the other end of the couch, watching as the teen brought the glass to his lips, chest heaving as he downed the liquid in labored gulps. He sounded like a kid who had just finished playing outside. “You’re going to drink more, later.” Stephen added plainly. 

His gaze stayed fixed on Peter’s weary form, his expression attentive as he searched for an explanation for his frailty. He studied the teens' tired body, taking note of his thin physique. “Have you eaten yet?” Peter set the empty glass down on the coffee table with a heavy breath, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “No, I didn’t have time..” Stephen sighed and sat up, “But I’m ok – I’m not hungry yet, I’ll eat later.” Stephen paused, glaring down at the teen with a skeptical judgement. “.. What did you say your symptoms were?” 

“Uh .. I’m hot, breathless.. Not hungry.. My body feels weak and Tired..?” Stephen mused, his gaze straying from Peter’s as he thought. “.. Why, Is that bad?” The silence lingered for another moment before Strange spoke up, “No.. No, It’s not bad. It's Probably just a virus, It’s going around.” He set his lukewarm coffee on the table, “Why don’t you go change out of your suit and lay down. I’ll make you something light to eat.” 

Peter didn’t miss the questioning in Stephen’s voice, there was more that he wasn’t letting on. But for now, It’s best not to nag. “.. Alright.”

Chapter Text

Peter had gone to his room, leaving Strange in the lounge to mull over the situation. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in thought. It made sense–Biologically, at least. He’s around that age.. Hormonal teenager age. with Arachnid DNA mixed into his human genetics, a Biological Cycle of sorts wasn’t entirely out of the question. Breeding instincts, maybe? The thought was concerning, but not improbable.

The elevator doors opened, and out of them stepped Tony who was holding a bottle of Nyquil and a cold towel. “He’s in his room, changing.” Strange said before Tony could speak, “He said he’s not hungry, but at least drank a full glass of water. I’m going to make him something light.” Tony sighed, setting the bottle and cloth on the counter, “So what is it? Stomach flu? A cold?” Strange didn’t immediately answer, busying himself with the cupboard as he searched for a bag of white bread. “I’d guess it's a seasonal cold–nothing serious.” Tony watched as Strange set the bread on the counter, his eyes gauging the other man's expression. “.. You’re doing that thing you do. Something else is up.” – “what thing.” Strange asked, his tone stern but steady, his glare fixed on the two slices of bread he was pulling out of the bag. “When you keep information to yourself because you don’t think anyone else will understand. Or when you wait a situation out just to prove yourself right, the kid isn’t an experiment, strange, speak up.” He demanded as he leaned forward, palms pressing against the counter as he stared the other man down. He was right. So annoyingly right. Stephen paused his movements, setting the loaves down to lean against the counter himself. He let out a long breath before his sharp glare met Tony’s. “I don’t expect you to understand.” – “There it is.” Tony scoffed, amusement in his voice as he placed his hands on his hips, earning a grumble from Strange. “ ‘Could be a breeding cycle of sorts, similar to a heat – there’s no reason to panic or call anyone. If he is in pre-heat, he should be fine.” Tony’s glare softened, and so did his posture, his hands dropping back to his sides. “... Heat? Like what – like a cat?” Strange sighed, opening the fridge and gathering the rest of the ingredients, “Partially, yes. Most likely, actually, since he’s physically mammal." He set the ingredients on the counter and began constructing the sandwich as he spoke, “He has a fever, He’s breathless, has a loss of appetite .. Who knows, it could be a common cold. there’s no reason to jump to conclusions. It’s just a theory.” Tony’s eyes narrowed, his thoughts clouded with disbelief. “ ‘Sounds like you’re spitballing, Strange.”, “exactly.” Stephen placed the sandwich on a plate and grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filling it with cold water from the fridge. “I thought only females go into heat.” Tony pressed with a raised, defensive brow. “Correct. In Peter’s case, the spider that bit him could have likely been female. The laws of genetics aren’t exactly straightforward when combined with radioactive mutations.” Tony stood in silence, processing the new information. “.. and if he is in heat?” 

Stephen paused, trying to think of a plausible reason to quarantine Peter without sending Tony into a frantic protectiveness. “.. We’ll send him home and he’ll wait it out in his apartment.” Tony stared, brow furrowing at the plain answer. “His apartment? Why can’t he stay here?” not plausible enough. “Stark, the kid is in heat. I  want you to think about that for a moment.” there was a pause, Tony’s expression unchanging. Clearly, the sorcerer wasn’t getting his point across. “Heat.” … more silence. goddamnit.

“.. Do you think Peter would be more comfortable desperately trying to pleasure himself in the tower? Or his own home. Or should papa Stark help with that too?” He quipped. Tony’s jaw tightened. He should have expected that. “.. Yea, sorry.” he muttered. 

Strange sighed, his gaze softening. “He’ll be fine–He should know what to do by instinct. If he needs anything he can call us. I assure you, there’s no reason to panic.” Stephen waited until Tony accepted with a stiff nod before heading toward Peter's bedroom door, plate and glass in hand, The other man following beside him.

Chapter Text

Peter let out a heavy breath, hastily shedding his suit and letting it fall carelessly onto the floor until only his boxers remained. The cool air wafted over his heated skin as he collapsed onto the bed. He sprawled across the mattress, beads of sweat glistening across his weary body, trickling down his face and neck as he sunk into the sheets. “Mmh..” a low hum of contentment rose in his throat, still tinged with discomfort, but that was to be expected. His mind and body begged to rest .. but something inside of him wouldn’t allow it. Like he had forgotten a chore, and couldn’t sleep until he got it done. With a strained groan, he shifted his weight and sat up on the edge of the bed, reaching for a t-shirt on the floor. The fabric crumpled and worn, but he had bigger problems. He pulled it over his arms and chest before falling back onto the mattress. “What is wrong with me..” he practically whined, rubbing his hands over his face. 

He shifted onto his side and curled into himself, knees tucked into his chest and forcing his eyelids shut in a hopeful attempt to sleep it off. There was barely a moment of peace before a feeling of uneasiness slowly crept into his conscience … It was the bed. He couldn’t get comfortable. 

He frustratedly grabbed the edge of the comforter and yanked it over himself, shifting restlessly. his legs tangling in the sheets as he sought a comfortable position. Finally, he cuddled up in the warmth of the blanket, burrowing his flushed face into the soft cotton. They smelled .. different.  But at the same time all too familiar. An earthy musk scent .. His brow furrowed as he tried to jog his memory, but his body reacted instinctively. Without thinking, he buried his face deeper into the sheets, his nose pushed into the fabric as he inhaled greedily. The scent flooded his senses, wrapping around him like an embrace. The bliss could only last so long until He found himself hunched over in bed, grasping the sheets in tight fists and holding them to his face as if they were his only source of oxygen. “...” 

“.. alright.. This is a thing now..” he muttered as he sat up, looking around the room before looking back at the sheets. It wasn’t enough. God, it wasn’t near enough.. And the poor boy was absolutely oblivious. Huffing his own scent like a drug.. It’s gonna get a lot worse from here.

His legs swung over the side of the bed, moving to stand as if he were no longer in control of his own actions. Before he could process what he was doing, he was at his closet doors, sliding them open, his gaze immediately skimming the small space for any soft objects he had in his reach. A pile of blankets cramped in the corner caught his attention, and he was gathering them into his arms within seconds. Clumsily, he made his way back to bed and dropped the pile onto the mattress before climbing in.

He began messily spreading them out, labored breaths filling the room due to his efforts. 

He stood on the mattress, bringing a hand to his chin as he looked over his work. It still doesn’t feel right. 

He let out a frustrated huff before dropping back to his knees and resuming his work, tossing blankets and pillows around, making an absolute mess of his sheets. Not a thought went through his head, his sole focus being the task at hand. Finally being able to rest. 

He bunched the blankets into a bowl like shape and crawled in, fixing the edges to his liking until he was satisfied. 

He finally paused, sitting in the middle of the makeshift nest to catch his breath. His gaze hazily roamed over the .. situation. Satisfied with his efforts, relief washed over his weary form at last.  “.. yea..” huff “.. this is.. This is alright." Without a second thought, he fell over into the mess of sheets, and passed out. completely exhausted. 

He may seem tolerable right now, all tuckered out in his little nest .. but don’t be fooled. It’ll get real rough for everyone involved. No one , knows what they’re getting into. Being a hormonal teenage boy isn’t exactly a flowering experience in any case, Despite what your 7th grade health teacher may have told you. Sometimes blossoming into adolescence happens after you’ve hit puberty, at the ripe age of 15, and requires an unnecessary, but vital amount of uncomfortable, messy, unwanted – per say, desperate sex (with your smokin’ hot colleague / frenemy / professional situationship). Which is a totally real, and relatable event that totally happens to most functioning humans, and totally doesn’t sound like some fucked up dynamic pulled straight out of some sick minded kids smutty fanfiction ™ . Now, in the words of your 7th grade health teacher; strap the fuck in, this isn’t going to be comfortable. 

Firm knocking broke the silence, abruptly waking Peter from the 2 minutes of sleep his body had finally allowed himself. 

“ ‘You decent?” Tony called out. 

“...” Peter groggily sat up, looking down at himself and then the nest. Not exactly. He pulled a sheet over his lower half before answering, “.. uh.. yea – yea come in..” 

The door is pushed open, and the two men are immediately hit by a waft of the teens musk. A combination of sweat, natural oils and earthy undertones. sort of like a locker room, if it was outdoors and surrounded by cedar. But a locker room nonetheless. They both stood in silence for a moment, staring at Peter and his predicament. The nest.. The scent.. the overall state he’s clearly in. It’s a lot to process. Stephen was the first to speak up, “.. Told you." Tony scoffed, “We don’t know that yet, smartass.” he stepped into the room, Stephen following, “how could you possibly know that he’s in heat. Enlighten me, wizard.” he asked sarcastically. Peter looked around, then back at the two men. “.. what? –”, “He made a nest. When I told you I didn't expect you to understand, I meant it. I'm not belittling your knowledge, I’m telling you to step back and let me work.” Stephen set the plate down on the bed in front of Peter, and the glass down on the bedside table, “Here you go kiddo – “ heat? Like, a cat? “You worry too much for him, Stark. You’re paranoid.” Tony parted his lips to speak, “hey – hey hey woah. Slow down. What do you mean, heat? ” they both paused, looking at each other before looking back at Peter. Stephen sighed, “.. There's a possibility that you’ve entered what is called a pre-heat due to your spider genetics affecting you hormonally.” Peter thought in silence for a moment, processing the new information, “.. Ok. Is that.. Is that bad?”, “No, you’ll be fine. It looks like you’ve already made yourself a nest..” Stephen mused as he looked down at the bed with the sickly boy inside it, “Your instincts have you covered. There's no need to worry.”, “huh.” Peter huffed in acknowledgment. A nest.. I was making a nest. “Just.. Just to clear this up.” he paused. “Is it like a cat-heat?..”, “.. There’s really no way to sugarcoat it, so I’ll be honest with you. It’s a breeding cycle. You’ll  be hormonal and needy for what I assume will be a few days to a week.” gross. “.. It would be best if you stayed in your apartment, until it wears off." This caught Peter off guard, “My apartment? You mean, Alone? – Why can’t I stay here?” Stephen took a breath, silently bracing himself. “Hormonal also means aroused , kid.” 

Oh..

Oh.

Oh god. 

“.. so im not starting my period.” he squinted skeptically. 

“What? – No. Why would you have a period.”

“Isn’t a heat just a cat-period?”

“You’re not a cat, Peter.”

“.. Oh.. Yea”

Strange looked the boy over one last time before meeting his gaze. “I’ll take you home and make sure you’re situated. If you need anything, call us.” He paused, “for anything medical or food related.” 

Peter nodded and stood up, grabbing his hello kitty pajama pants from off the floor and awkwardly pulling them on in front of the two men. “.. and I.. shouldn’t have a lot of questions, right? I’ll know what to do instinctively?..” Stephen nodded, “Yes, but if you have questions, please, ask me.”, “Or me.” Tony added quickly after. Peter gave a reluctant nod. “Alright..”

“Good.” Stephen stepped back and opened a portal before stepping in, Peter following after. 

“Rest on the couch, I'm going to see what your situation is like.” The sorcerer demanded rather than told as he headed toward the kitchen, leaving Peter to slump down onto the couch, letting out a weary sigh. “How are you feeling right now?” Stephen called out as he rummaged through cabinets. Luckily, he had gotten groceries the day before . “Hot .. um. I miss my.. Nest.” He answered reluctantly, brow furrowed. God, this is awkward. “Yea, that makes sense.”

Stephen came back into the living room, letting his gaze roam over the space before stilling on Peter. “.. you need anything?” Petter shook his head. “...” Strange bit his lip in thought, letting the silence linger. “.. Alright. Call me if you need anything.” and with that, he stepped back into the portal, allowing it to zip shut. 

“.. welp. Guess I just gotta.. Wait for my instincts to tell me what to do.” he tapped his thighs boredly, looking around. “... yeah.” 

Slumped into the couch, wearing a “I <3 NY” T-shirt and pink hello kitty pajama pants, sat Peter parker. Adorable, I know. Given little to no information on what he’s about to endure, his biggest concern is whether or not he’ll start laying eggs. Understandably so, I mean, why else would he need a nest? To stay warm? It’s the middle of summer, Stephen. The least they could do is explain why he suddenly has the maternal instincts of a mother hen. But anyway, To keep things short, the next two days (and a half) are long, confusing, and honestly .. mostly just sulking in his nest. There’s not much to pre-heat, to my, and I'm sure your convenience. Because that means we can skip to the good stuff. No more filler.

Chapter Text

Finally, the good stuff. Peter hadn’t left his apartment in 3 days. Usually the merc would at least catch a glimpse of him while patrolling.. Not this week. The last time he’d seen the hero was on the news, and that god awful display of the web falling limply from his wrist before he was pulled back into a portal. He’d assumed the kid was sick. Which, didn't make him any less concerned. He’d stopped by a few times, knocking firmly, and repeatedly against the door to no response. He wasn’t stupid, not as stupid as Peter may have thought he was. He’d seen the lights go on and off. – Not in a creepy way. God forbid a guy check up on his sick buddy. Knock knock knock.

“Pete? You in there, kid?” No answer. “... Come on, at least knock back. I need to know that you’re not dead.” He took a step back from the door and placed his hands on his hips as he waited for a response, even if it was just a knock. He sighed as the silence continued–dropping his hands back down to his sides. Was this too much? Maybe it would be best to just leave him alone. For his, and the neighbors sake.

“Alright you little shit..” the stubborn mercenary muttered as he reached for the phone in his pocket, “I’ll respect your privacy and not kick the door in–just in case this really is as big a deal as you’re making it seem. So, either work with me or I’m calling Dumbledore. And I will, get answers.” He stood in silence for a third time–like an idiot, and huffed. “Alright, your call. Or should i say.. the Wizard's call. Mwahaha.” 

His fingers busied–dialing the number as he strode toward what seemed to be a closet, letting himself in and hoisting himself up the ladder to the rooftop as if he’d done this before. Which he had, plenty of times. A groan escaped him as he strained his tired legs to stand, placing a hand on his hip while the other held the buzzing phone to his ear. He’d be much less concerned if Peter was a grown adult–but he wasn’t. From Wade's perspective, Peter is a sick kid who hasn't left the house in 3 days, seemingly without an adult to watch over him. That was an issue. 

“Stephen Strange speaking.”, “Yo, It’s Hagrid. What have yeh done with the Wizard boy.” 

here we go. 

“Why do you have my number.”

“I know people–not important.”

“Have you tried calling him?”

“Actually smartass, i have.” he shifted his weight to the other leg, “ ‘Won’t pick up or answer the door, and the last i’ve seen him was on the news–struggling to get it up before you smothered his face with a rag and dragged him into your sketchy van. Wanna explain what’s going on?” 

The other man sighed–most likely pinching the bridge of his nose too.

“It’s a common virus. Nothing to panic over–I assure you.” he continued, “He just needs to rest for a few more days until he’s fully recovered. I’ve decided It’s best not to second guess his health and have him break down during another fight.” 

The merc scoffed. “I’ve seen Peter sick, a ‘common virus’ has never made his spidey senses act up like that. And the fact that you knew exactly who ‘the wizard boy’ is tells me there’s more you’re not telling me. So spill it, Gandalf.” 

“There is nothing more I can tell you. I put him on medication and sent him home to rest.”

“On what, viagra?” Wade spat in response, his tone lacking It’s usual banter. Usually he’d have the patience to sit and be treated like some fucking idiot. Not this time, Not when he may be the only one who understands the seriousness of the situation. He really did care about Peter and his well-being, despite whatever his ironic personality made the wizard think. but he didn’t need this asshole to see that, he just needed answers. “The kid has been locked up in his apartment for 3 days, and hasn’t responded once. And from what I’ve seen, you haven’t checked up on him either. If you won’t be honest, fine, whatever. But you’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m gonna let this go.” 

He didn’t wait for a response before dropping his thumb onto the red button–and hung up.

Weaponized incompetence was notoriously his strong suit—but he was far from it. Was it really so hard to just believe he had good, genuine intentions for once? He’s not some shitty kid. He slipped the phone back into his pocket before squatting down and grasping his head, releasing an exasperated sigh as he worked his thumbs into his temples. 

Being treated as less than an adult got old fast. No one takes the merc with a mouth seriously when it actually matters.

With a strained groan he rose to his feet and made his way back toward the ladder and leaped down, striding right back up to Peter’s front door and raising a fist,

“Kid–” his words caught in his throat, biting his lip and lowering his hand. He was starting to reconsider his aggressive concern. For once, he hoped this better be a big fucking deal.

“Alright..” he spoke up gruffly, “The wizard isn’t talking, and I’m not used to stress so it’s hitting me 10 times harder than it should. I’m worried about ya, and..” he paused again, looking back up at the door. “Ah.. fuck it.”

He took a step back before ramming his shoulder full force into the door–the apartment complex echoing with a loud thud as it flew open–the hinges nearly snapping off. As he swiftly entered the room, his senses were hit with an invading waft of hot, suffocating musk. It pooled beneath his mask–nearly choking him before he pulled the hem just over his nose and took a saving breath. “Jesus, kid.”, the small space reeked of sweat and a telling lack of self care. There were dishes piled on the counters and in the sink, dirty clothes sprawled on the floor, and  He was pissed.