video. un: p.parker | don't drink and vlog, people

[madeupnames]

WOOOOOO—

[THUMP, CLATTER, A CURSE WORD THAT STARTS WITH 'MOTHER' THAT COMES FROM A POLITE LITTLE VOICE.]

Wheeew — Helloooo Riverview!

[There's a shuffling of feet as the familiar voice carries further away, like he's walking away from the feed. Someone calls distantly: 'Enjoy your glory years, kid!']

Thank you, sir! Where's the tram...? Which street again — Oh! I dropped my — [Dropped his phone. Oops. Right! He picks it up, squinting into the feed; Peter looks — well, drunk. He's very drunk. He whispers a little lower:] Hey, sorry, oops — sorry, it's late and I'm kinda noisy. I'll shut up. Shhhh.

[He staggers sideways in his attempt to sneak quietly, so there's that.]

Guys, I was, like, so worried about drinking? But I feel great! Mr. Wilson, thanks for helping me loosen up a little; I dunno why I was even nervous. I even did the karaoke thing on my own. Like, the thing on my bucket list? Man... It was so fun... I don't think I had that much fun in... I don't even know when. Heh. I love you guys. [He whispers in a giggle to himself, looking around and ignoring the feed for a moment:] I have noooo idea where I'm at... Oh, wait! that's Centerfield Lane, I'm doing great...!

But where's the tram again? Shit. Iiii mean 'crap'. Crap is what I meant.

Uuuuh. Hold on. [The feed blacks out again, and there's the telltale sounds of someone clearly climbing up a fire escape toward someone's roof. He's very coordinated for a drunk teenager.] There we go! I seeeee it now. Cool, awesome. Cool.

[He looks at the feed again, the background higher up.]

So I was thinking! I've been spending soooo much time moping about stuff I can't, uuuuh. Do anything about, so I was figuring... why not relax a little? I got this To Do List thing I wanna get done, and I was wondering if anyone wanted to help with it? It'll be fun!

I got stuff like — [He counts off on his fingers.] learning how to kniiit, surfiiing, learning origaaami... Holding a really big snake? When I was a kid I always wanted to face my fears and hold a snake, and I almost got a chance to, but then I remembered how scary snakes are and chickened out...!

[He waves at someone down below, sounding so happy.]

Heeeey! You wanna hug?! I have 'give a stranger a hug' on my to do list!

['Dude, what are you doing on a roof at eleven at night?!' the teenaged kid calls back.]

I'm drunk!

['I guess I can hug you?!' Peter fist pumps.]

Awesome!

[The kid down below yells back from cupped hands: 'Hey—! You're gonna break your neck up there! Get down!']

It's cool, I've got really good balance!

[He gives the guy a thumbs up. This is all still recording. Save him.]

Comments

[madeupnames]

Yeah!

[But he stands there for a moment, looking perturbed, maybe even worried.]

You're not — mad at me, are you? R'you mad?

[No, yeah, he definitely sounds really worried that you're mad.]

[nostalgiabomb]

I’m not mad.

[ He nearly adds, “I’m disappointed,” but that feels a little too cliché. And if he said that, he definitely wouldn’t be helping his case when the kid keeps teasing him about getting all father-y. ]

But if you wanted to get drunk, you should’ve had someone tag along to keep an eye on you, you know?

[madeupnames]

I wasn't planning to! It's just that those girls're barhopping and I was worried someone was gonna take advantage of them being drunk or - or something. [A pause.] But I'm Spider-Man, I'm like super strong, so it's not the same thing for me, I'm good. And anyways, I — I dunno, they seemed so happy and were having so much fun, I didn't wanna fall behind being some boring kid not taking any chances or doing anything new, and I wanted to be happy with them, too, and I was only gonna have one I swear—

[Quill, he's just going and going, man. You'll have to interrupt him.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Quill does, in fact, try to interrupt the kid at least a half dozen times by interjecting more and more sharply, "Peter. Peter. Peter."

But he only seems to interrupt when the kid pauses for breath, cutting in with a quick, sharp, ]

Bro.

[ When that works, Peter huffs out a sigh. He takes a quick look around, and while no one seems to be paying them any attention, he still lowers his voice.

(Secret identities are serious.) ]

Listen. I get that you’re super strong and have a bunch of fun gadgets or whatever, which means you could probably take care of yourself, but that’s all the more reason to have taken someone out with you.

Buddy of mine, Drax. Looks a lot like that Gordlin dude. He could probably bench press ten of me and not break a sweat. When he gets drunk, I'm less worried about him and more worried about what he could accidentally do if someone tried to pick a fight.

[madeupnames]

[His mildly bloodshot eyes widen comically.]

I wouldn't picka' fight! I'm having a great time! Who picksa' fight when they're feeling great?

[He holds up a finger, as if teaching Quill a Valuable Lesson.]

Peter Benjamin Parker doesn't fight anyone. He's a saint.

[A swaying saint, but a saint.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter raises both hands in a gesture of surrender.

(And also, secretly, preparing himself to catch the kid before he topples to one side.) ]

I'm not saying you'd pick a fight. I'm saying some other asshole would try to mess with you, and you might accidentally cave his face in.

[madeupnames]

I wouldn't! [His voice crackles as he blurts it, looking a little less comical about it.] That was just one time!

[Peter flinches back with squared shoulders immediately after the admission, looking like he might as well have slapped himself in the face.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ This Peter similarly flinches back, caught off-guard by the outburst, and—

... okay. He clearly hit close to home, there, and his expression softens a little, hands lowering.

He can get the story out of the kid some other time, he figures. For now, he relents, nodding to the restaurant. ]

C'mon. I was promised nachos.

[ A beat, and in an attempt to recapture the lighter mood, ]

Can you make it in by yourself, or do you need me to hold your hand?

1/2

[madeupnames]

[He looks at his feet — the very red converse he'd busted someone in the face over — and tries not to cry. Which is really fucking ridiculous, but for some reason it's uh, it's really difficult to hide that. Oh god, is this what drunk people deal with? Nevermind, he wants off this ride.

But eventually he scowls at Quill and is distracted from his brain.]

Of course I can make it, I'm jus' fine.

[madeupnames]

[He turns and runs right into a lamp post.

And glances back near immediately, almost losing balance with how hard that twirl he does is.]

... Spider Sense was a lil' delayed. No biggie.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ It's hard to miss the way the kid's expression starts to crumple, but he seems to recover well enough on his own. (Peter makes another little mental note – yet another to think to ask about.)

On a different day, the loud clang of the kid running straight into the post would make Peter nearly die laughing.

Today, though, he just snorts out a breath, reaching for the kid's elbow to help steady him. ]

Okay, Norm. Take it easy.

[madeupnames]

I told you, I can totally walk on my own...

[But he doesn't shove the arm off, and lets him keep him steady as they go inside.

(Maybe if he weren't so wasted, he'd consider the parallel of him dragging Quill through the forest, back to his apartment. Maybe. But he's wasted, sooo—)

The place looks more like an old pub than anything, and the lady looks at the kid with a raised eyebrow; this place serves liquor, so she knows a wasted creature when she sees it. But instead of exasperation, it's mild concern. Peter has that effect on people, especially considering he looks like a nerdy little schoolboy who got caught in a drinking PSA.

Peter wanders over and extends a hand, smiling and apparently forgetting the last five minutes.]

Hi! I'm Peter. Peter Parker. How many nachos does three dollars buy?

[She looks at him with a sort of bless your heart furrow of her brow, before looking at Quill as if to telepathically ask him 'what the fuck is this mess on my bar stool'.

"Plate's eight credits. But I s'ppose I can make an exception."

Peter does a fistpump of victory.]

Yus.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ It's kind of like following after a storm, if Peter's honest, and he lets the kid lead the way, even as he works to keep him upright and reasonably steady.

Aaaand then he's making nice with the bartender, and when the woman looks to him, Peter shrugs helplessly, shaking his head as if to say, I couldn't tell you, even if I wanted to. She and the kid negotiate over the price of nachos, and as she's wandering away to fill the order, Peter catches her gaze over the kid's head while he's celebrating his success.

He waves a hand to tell her, I'll cover it. Don't worry. She nods in response before turning away. ]

So.

[ This, to the kid. ]

What've you even had so far?

[madeupnames]

[He plops down on the nearest tall chair — one of those tall, round tables that fits two people, three max. And hey, he swings right back into pleased mode, because he ordered some nachos, yeah? He's aces now — nothin' holdin' him back!

Until Quill asks that.

Then it's a long stare, as he tries to figure out what he's even talking about.]

Uh. A sandwich this morning? A hot pocket and some cup of noodles before I went out?

[Nailed it.]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A beat.

Then, evenly, ]

I meant booze-wise.

[madeupnames]

Oh.

[The pub lady wordlessly delivers a glass of water, knowing the kid's gonna need it.

And he just sort of stares like Quill asked him some hardcore robotics question he has yet to learn.]

Um.

... They were nice colors. And had lots of fruit in it?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Another pause, as he studies the kid.

Peter raises both hands and drags them down his face. ]

Oh my god.

[ That's how you know this is serious. A two-handed face palm. ]

Please don't tell me you just... drank whatever a bunch of strangers gave you.

[madeupnames]

[He turns red(der), waving his hands.]

The bartender was there! And it was just from those two nice girls! It wasn't anything weird, and — and they were already hammered anyways, so they were totally harmless...! It's not like I took it from a creepy dude twirling a mustache!

[Yeah, this isn't a kid who ever really went to parties or to bars.

... And would have definitely not drank until he was legally able to in New York.

So this is all new concerning territory.]

[nostalgiabomb]

Oh my god.

[ Breathed out this time, as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Deep breath, Quill. You can handle this.

He drops one hand to his lap, and with the other, he pushes the glass of water closer to Little Pete. ]

Rule one: never accept candy from strangers. Even if they're wasted and seem nice.

[madeupnames]

[He furrows his brow, taking the water and sipping it.

Defeatedly, in a low voice:]

They were really persuasive... And pretty...

[nostalgiabomb]

[ ... ah. ]

You've still gotta be careful, man.

[ A beat. Then, ]

The first time I met Gamora, I got distracted by how smoking hot she was, right? She was being all flirty, and she was clearly totally into me.

Then she stole something from me and almost killed me.

[ Love at first sight.

The bartender, it seems, has deposited a beer in front of Peter instead of a second glass of water, apparently sensing that he definitely needs one. He shoots her a grateful look before taking a quick sip of it. ]

So, you know. You can't always trust a pretty face.

[madeupnames]

[Hoooh, yeah, there's that guilty niggling feeling about Gamora. This kid loves to drown in guilt over things for extended periods of time, it's the natural way. But he's also at least distracted by the fact that Big Pete is almost kind of giving him girl advice — something he hasn't had much of outside of Aunt May's futile attempts, bless her soul.]

... Mine was more about not trusting their crazy criminal dad...

[He sips his water, shifty-eyed, and clears his throat.]

... My dating life's already a mess.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter's posture softens a little again.

(Girlfriends with fucked up father-figures?

... yeah. Peter might know a thing or two about that.)

He leans forward on the table, propping himself up with an elbow. ]

You'll get the hang of it.

[ Eventually. ]

You're feelin' alright, though? [ At the very least, Peter seems to understand that this needs a little clarification, so— ]

You don't feel like you need to pass out or puke or anything?

1/2

[madeupnames]

[He snorts like a surly teenager at that whole 'you'll get the hang of it' bit.

But blinks up at Big Pete.]

... Tired, mostly. To be honest, that's just the usual. But now I'm gonna try harder.

[What does that even elude to? We may never know-]

[madeupnames]

[Because a big-ass plate of nachos is delivered.]

Ohmygod, that looks sogood. Pete, you see this?!

[IT HAS. EVERYTHING. SO MUCH. THE TOPPINGS



He beams up at the pub lady like she's made his entire life.]

Thanks so much, really, this is great. You're my favorite person.

[Said pub lady shakes her head and smiles as she wanders off again.]