Boys like Boys|| Peter Parker

.19.

Oliver rolled onto his back as the quinjet took off from the hangar. Strangely, he was fine with it. Even if he hadn't gone with Bucky, Steve had. And Oliver had seen the way that man looked at Bucky. Sure it would take him some time to figure his feelings out, but Steve clearly cared about Bucky. 

"Fuck" Oliver got to his feet, awkwardly scrambling and falling a few times. His legs were unsteady, like they'd give out at any moment. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming about the pain. The last thing he needed was attention drawn to him. 

If he was smart about it, he could hobble away and escape consequence free. 

A thousand scenarios ran through his mind. Ideally he wanted to slip away from the airport, maybe skip countries— see if his contacts could be of any help. But things never do go according to plan do they?

There it was again— that feeling. Like the stone was calling out to him. 

Oliver didn't want to remember, but he did anyway. He was back there— that cold, dark place. There were only three small lights, casting their eerie white glow around the room. He felt like shit, he hadn't showered in a week, hadn't even brushed his teeth. He hadn't had a proper meal since he left the red room and the tests the scientists conducted on them had left them close to dead. 

He remembered the welcoming yellow glow of the stone. It called out to his mind, as if it knew all his secrets. Oliver had stepped forward, a little unsure of what he was meant to do. The scientists were there, of course they were. A panel of bullet proof glass separated the subject and the scientists. 

Then, Oliver had done the simplest thing. He gave in. There was no use fighting the powers of the stone. It was ancient, powerful and fighting it would only harm him more. 

He couldn't remember the vision he had had. 

When Oliver looked up, he saw the yellow energy beam slicing through the sky. He couldn't make out the people, but he knew the people following the plane were Tony Stark, James Rhodes and Sam. 

The one with wings— that must be Sam, he rolled out of the way. Before Oliver could comprehend what had happened, there was a person in free fall. He couldn't make out the colors so it could've been either Tony or James. 

Oliver didn't have to make calculations to figure out the man wouldn't survive a fall from that height. 

Yet, there was no one close enough to help him. A flash of gold and red informed Oliver that the man diving to save his friend was Tony, which meant James Rhodes was the one falling. 

This wasn't his problem. This was the exact diversion he needed to slip out unnoticed. Besides, it wasn't as if he could do anything about it. 

Clutching his sides in pain, Oliver began to move away. 

"Hey— Hey!" Shit. He had been spotted. "Hey! Wait up"

It was the Spider-guy from earlier. Briefly, Oliver wondered if he really had fractured a rib, but then he realized he didn't give a shit. Being selfish always had its perks, namely not caring about people. So Oliver didn't bother replying and simply tried to get away faster. 

"Hey, are you good?" Within a minute Spidey was by his side, which made Oliver aware of the fact that he wasn't going very fast. "You look like you're hurt— do you need any help?"

Spider-Man's mask had rolled up a little, exposing his chin and his bottom lip as well as his pale, freckled skin. He reached out to touch Oliver, perhaps to support him and prevent him from face planting. 

Whatever the reason was, Oliver flinched when Spidey's hand made contact with his upper arm. In the blink of an eye, Spider-Man had been judo flipped, his arm twisted a bit more for good measure. 

Oliver hadn't even been aware of doing it, but he felt no remorse when the boy on the ground groaned in pain. Good, Oliver thought, he should know better than to go around touching people. 

Oliver's entire body felt like he was on fire. He really shouldn't be going around judo flipping people in this state.

After the adrenaline rush of just wanting to hurt whoever touched him, the energy left as soon it had appeared. Oliver was worse off now. 

"Ok, sorry I won't touch you. But you're not okay. You need to go to a hospital" For some annoying reason, Spider-Man wasn't leaving him alone. 

"Go away" Oliver sounded like a child throwing a tantrum but he was in too much pain to care about how pathetic he sounded, "I'm fine"

"You're clearly not— just let me help"

"I said—" Oliver spun around, admittedly with too much force and landed in someone's arms. He hated it, hated the contact of another person. He had seen what those arms could do— swing through the air, yes, but also support the weight of a huge metal container. 

If he wanted to, Spidey could crush Oliver without breaking a sweat. Oliver regretted using up all his energy. Now he had no way to save himself. "Fuck off"

"Quit moving, you're gonna fall"

The more he squirmed, the tighter Spider-Man seemed to be holding him. Human touch was never a positive thing for Oliver growing up. It always meant punishment or in worse cases— death. 

It was too much, the day had been too much. Too many people, too many noises, too much touching, too much everything. His mind was muddled and the world was spinning around him. 

His stomach turned, like he was about to bend over and hurl. But nothing happened. He stayed right there, in Spider-Man's arms, tears slipping out. 

"hey, hey, hey" He talked too much and too fast, Oliver noticed. "You're gonna be okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Just stay awake, don't pass out. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay"

Spider-Man repeated the phrase over and over, maybe for Oliver, but more likely for himself. 

All Oliver knew was that he wasn't going to be able to run away this time. 

"Let me go" He tried again weakly before passing out.