angsty one shots

The Cephalic

Fuck

Peter had left his blade at the apartment. It was the second Friday of the month, which meant that Peter was spending the weekend at the compound with Mr Stark.

Fuckity fuck shit

Maybe he could get Happy to go back to Mays' and say.... God, what would he even say? "Hi there Happy, I'm an emotionally unstable teenager who left his one coping mechanism behind. All good if we swing around and get it?"

Yeah. Right.

Well, he may as well try, right?

When sixth period ended, Peter was a nervous wreck. On one hand, he didn't even know if he could cut at the compound- would FRIDAY rat him out? Would Happy even buy his story?

He opened the back door to the shiny black Sudan and climbed in, plastering on a smile.

"Hey, Happy! How are you?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine kid, just fine." Was all Happy replied with, as usual.

"Ummm, look Happy, I forgot my math textbook and left it at home this morning, would you mind swinging back around Mays' so I can grab it?" Peter was actively trying not to sound nervous.

"I don't know kid, thats all the way on the other side of town. Can't you get all that online now days anyway?" His tone was casual, but Happy was slightly suspicious.

"Yeah, yeah all good." Deciding to drop that matter and pretend like it isn't important, Peter closed his eyes and listen to music for the rest of the trip.

When they finally pulled up at the compound, Peter was more than happy to escape the silence of the car.

He was itching, squirming to cut. He needed the rush, the adrenalin, the relief. But, he was an absolute idiot who forgot the most important thing that he owned.

Oh well, it was only two days, how hard could it be?

Very hard, apparently. Even walking from the front entrance of the compound to Mr Starks lab was making his so anxious and self-conscious, he felt like an exposed nerve.

Suddenly, he was in the lab and Mr Stark was talking to him.

"-ter? Kid? Pete? You in there?" Mr Stark was standing right in front of him, and he hadn't responded! Oh my god, that's so embarrassing, he was just staring off into space and completely ignoring Mr Stark. Oh god.

"Hi Mr Stark! How are you?" Peter was trying desperately to salvage some normalcy in their interaction.

Tony gave him a weird look, not really buying the front that Peter was putting on, but still played along. "I'm good, I'm good kid. You?"

"Never better", Peter lied. His hands were shaking and he felt panicky. This always happened when he didn't have a blade on him. Every second of every day he longed for that sensation- so beautiful and euphoric that no words could possibly describe the relief and joy that it brings him. "I'm just going to go drop my stuff in my room okay?"

Tony nodded, refocussing on the repulser that he had been working on before Peter arrived. The kid and his weird mood still tapped away at the back of his mind, but he dismissed it as Teen Angst™

Meanwhile...

Peter was pacing in his room, trying to think of anything, absolutely anything sharp that he could use to satisfy his sickening urges. Kitchen knives? No, someone would surely see him take them. Throwing knives from the training room? No, for the same reason. Pencil sharpener? Oh, wait he doesn't own one because ned threw it out weeks ago.