Raised in Tartarus (AvengersxPercy) (PeterxPercy)

Gay Thoughts

I'm trying to update more often
whoot whoot

Tony's POV:

After a slightly awkward and uncomfortable elevator ride, we reach Bruce's medical room. As I open the door, I see Bruce having a conversation with a young man inside. I grin.

Perfecttt, it's him.

I throw open the door. "Yooo, Brucie! What's poppin?" (Brand new whip, just hopped in)

Their conversation comes to a halt and Bruce jumps in surprise. Peter's head whips towards us.

"Oh, hi, Tony," Bruce says softly. "Need something?"

"Yes, actually-" I step to the side to reveal a very stiff Damarion. "This guy right here could use a few bandages. I don't know what happened, but he seems to be, like, bleeding, I guess." I shrug and Bruce raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

He sighs and steps forward to Damarion. "I'm Bruce."

The kid looks him up and down before nodding and sticking out his hand. "My name's Damarion and I'm fine honestly."

Bruce takes a look at his blood soaked face and abdomen and inhales slightly. "Yeah, sure, well if you could just sit right over here." He points to a chair at the end of the room. "Oh! And this is Peter."

Damarion confidently strides over to the chair, completely avoiding Peter's gaze.

"Yeah, I'm Peter. Nice to meet you, Damarion." He looks down at the raven-haired boy's abs before quickly glancing back to his face. A blush creeps up his cheeks.

I smirk, mentally fist bumping myself.

I knew I'd be right.

Damarion doesn't respond though and just sits down and stares at his knees.

Well then, this boy's social skills could use some work.

Bruce's POV:

Apparently Tony beat up some random kid again. I sigh and grab my box of bandages, walking over to the young man. "Damarion, could you take off your shirt please?" I grab a roll of bandages and sit the box down, turning back to Damarion.

He nods and rips off his shirt in one swift motion.

I hear Peter choke from the other side of the room and my eyebrows shoot up as I look at his chest and arms.

His arms, chest, back, abdominal region, everything is littered with scars and bruises and seemingly fresh wounds.

I glance over at the others and see they are equally as surprised. Although Peter just seems to be drooling. I squint my eyes a little, but look back at Damarion.

"Uh, son... How old are you?" I pull up a chair next to him and sit down.

He blinks. "Um-" Damarion shoots a look at Peter. "19."

I nod and write it down. "And have you been in the military at all?"

He furrows his eyebrows. "No?"

"Okay... Do you live with your parents?"

"Yeah..." His eyes flick to Tony and Steve. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"I just need some information so I can... make sure you're healthy. Do you live with both parents?"

His eyebrows scrunch and he leans back in the chair, frowning in confusion. "Uhh... No? Just my Dad. Who else would...?" He trails off.

I look over at Tony and Steve, but they appear equally as confused.

"What's your relationship with your Dad like?" I lean forward.

Damarion leans back even more. "Pretty average."

I raise my eyebrows for him to continue.

He shifts uncomfortably. "What do you want me to say? It's just average, ya know? He tells me what to do, I do it. We have sesstice every week. He-"

"You what?"

"We have sesstice, you know, with like my brothers and my dad... on the bed... with the whips..." He gestures with his hands as if I'm supposed to know exactly what he's talking about.

My eyes widen and Peter starts choking again.

"You what now?"

Damarion stares at me blankly. "You... don't do that here?"

Tony clears his throat. "Are you from Alabama by any chance?"

"Tony!" Steve elbows him in the ribs.

Peter continues dying.

"Okay well, forget I said that then." Damarion stands up. "Can I go?"

"No I think this is important..." I push on his shoulders to get him to sit back down.

He falls back into the chair. "What do you want from me? I'm fine."

I turn to Tony and Steve. "Can I talk with you guys outside for a minute?"

They both nod and quickly shuffle out the door as I follow them, Peter staying behind, still trying to recover.

I close the door. "Where the hell did you find this kid?"

Tony shrugs. "He was selling newspapers in the streets and I punched him, but then I felt bad and then I saw his abs and I thought Peter would really like him and I should bring him here and they could-"

"Tony! Stop rambling!" I hiss.

"It looks like he's been severely abused," Steve comments.

"My point precisely. But what do we do with him? We can't just keep him here." I frown and rub my forehead, shifting my feet.

"Why not?" Tony states.

Steve and I stare at him.

"Well it doesn't exactly sound like he'll be missed." Tony shrugs. "Plus it looks like they're hitting it off." He points to the window in the door.

I look over to see Peter grinning from ear to ear as he chats with Damarion, who still wouldn't look at him, but was smiling a little and talking none the less.

They do look pretty cute together...

Peter's POV:

My God this guy is hot. I can't even concentrate on what he's saying. He's one of those guys that's both hot and cute at the same time somehow and he's got that adorable little dimple on his left cheek and his eyes are stunning and two different colors and his skin, despite all the scars, seems to be glowing and his floppy hair is so funny and cute and he's soooo fucking tall and his d-

The door slams shut, snapping me out of my gay thoughts.

"Hey, Peter, can I talk to you real quick?" Bruce rests his hand on my shoulder and gestures to the door with his other hand.

"Oh! Uh, yeah sure!" I look back at Damarion as I follow Bruce out of the room. He watches us with curious eyes.

Dam, those eyes...

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1,049 words, you guys! I tried

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