Chapter Text
For a lot of kids, it starts with a game called firetruck.
Now, let imagine a hypothetical— In this, we’ll say the perpetrator is your babysitter. You’d be between the ages of six to twelve. Your babysitter would sit beside you on your bed, rubbing your knee. “Hey,” they’d say, “want to play firetruck?” You wouldn’t know what it is, and it may be described to you as a variant of “red light, green light,” but instead of making your way across the room to tag a friend, your babysitter is guiding their hand to the zipper of your onesie. As they start to pull the zipper down, you shout, a bit nervous, “red light!” The babysitter would chuckle, and keep going. “Firetrucks don’t stop at red lights.”
For Peter Parker, it started with a magazine, and an overly friendly babysitter.
Steven (“call me skip!”) Westcott was an average babysitter, in almost every way. He’d rub Peter's hair, and say, “wow Einstein! Looks like you didn’t need my help after all, huh?” He’d bring chocolate bars, ice-cream, and watch all the episodes of star-wars without complaint. It was perfect, until he brought that fucking magazine.
It started off as a normal day. He'd come in, messed up Peter’s hair, and sat on the couch— but instead of asking, “So, Einstein, what’d ya’ wanna do today?” like usual, he’d beckoned Peter to sit next to him.
“Hey Pete, I wanna show you something.”
The curious, naive kid he’d been, he sat beside Skip, trying to sneak peaks at what Skip wanted to show him. “What’s that?”
“Now, now.. settle down.” He pulled the magazine closer, and flipped to a random page. A man and woman, close together, in a bed. They were having sex, but at that young age, it didn’t look like anything at all. “See these people?”
“Yeah..what’re they doing?”
“They’re good friends, see? Do you want to copy what they’re doing with me?”
Peter blinked, and thought for a moment. Good friends? Aren’t Skip and I good friends? He’d thought, So..what's the harm of copying those people? So, he nodded. “Uhm. Sure.”
Skip smiled, and pushed Peter onto his back. “Okay, Einstein, just lay back, okay?”