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Peter groaned and rubbed his temples. He should’ve known that something like this was going to happen. Wade had been waiting for him to turn 21 for years , in hindsight it was no surprise that upon the arrival of the fateful day, he was promptly kidnapped and dragged on a 24 hour pub crawl through Hell’s Kitchen. Two days later and he was still hungover (enhanced metabolism his ass, what the hell was in that drink).
“You good, Parker?”
Peter glanced up to see his deskmate James hovering over him with a concerned look. He tried to smile but the movement quickly turned into a wince as the fluorescent lights pierced through his skull. “Yeah, I’m good, sorry. My birthday was this weekend and my friends forced me to drink way too much, still not quite recovered.”
James’s face dawned with understanding. “Damn, that sucks. But, hey! I didn’t know it was your birthday, you should come out with us next Saturday! Kyle, Sam, Lindsay and I are planning to hit up this new place in Manhattan, you should totally join.”
Peter felt nauseous at the idea of ever consuming alcohol again. He got along well with Sam and James, they were both in his thermodynamics lecture and they lived on the same floor. Kyle was James’s roommate and nice enough, though he hadn’t met Lindsay. “Thanks, I’ll definitely think about it.”
James grinned as he took his seat. “It’ll be a lot of fun, promise. And apparently we missed your birthday so you’ve got to let us treat you.”
“You guys don’t have to do that.” Peter could already feel a new headache forming.
“Nah, trust me, man. It’s gonna be awesome.”
. . .
Somehow, Peter had let James convince him to go out with them. Wade would say it’s because he’s a pushover that worries too much about pleasing others, but he just looked so excited at the thought of taking him out on the town. He couldn’t say no, no matter how badly he wanted to.
So now here he was, stepping off the subway in a nice pair of black slacks that nipped at the waist in a flattering manner and a burgundy button-down with the top three buttons open to expose his collarbone. With his hair pushed back to expose his face and his glasses nowhere to be found, Peter’s outfit had the Stark seal of approval (he’d know, the man had bought it for him). He pulled out his phone to double check the address that Sam had messaged him. They were meeting at this recently opened club in Midtown called Phoenix, it was supposedly really good and they had already amassed a small cult following online due to their artistic drinks and high quality sound system. A DJ that Lindsay really liked was performing tonight, so they all agreed to meet up around 8 and enter together.
Peter rounded the corner and noticed a line had already formed outside of the aforementioned club. He raked his eyes over the mass of scantily clad young New Yorkers until he noticed Sam and James conversing with an unfamiliar redhead. Sam was wearing her usual pseudo-goth attire - ripped black jeans and a cropped band tee - while James was in jeans and a t-shirt with an open Hawaiian button down, both looking comfortable as they stood near the club entrance. The redhead was dressed much more scandalously in a structured mini dress and combat boots, her hair curled to perfection where it tumbled down her back. Peter waved and made his way over to join them, ignoring the dirty looks he received from the other people in line for cutting.
“Hey, guys,” he greeted with a smile.
Sam let out a low whistle. “Damn, Parker. You sure know how to clean up well.”
Peter blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, you guys look nice, too. There’s really a lot of people here, huh?”
James snorted. “You can say that again. It was not this busy last time we were here.”
“That’s because last time you were here T. Dizzy wasn’t performing. His music is awesome and he’s got loads of followers, if it’s not already packed inside it will be soon.” The redhead turned to look at Peter and gave him a friendly grin. “I’m Lindsay, by the way. I take it you’re Peter?”
He nodded and reached out to shake her hand. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you. Are you a student here as well?”
Lindsay shook her head. “Nah, I’m working at a gallery in Brooklyn. My post-high school gap year turned into a full-time job and now I’m trying to decide if it’s worth going back to school just to get proper certification for something that I’m already doing. Kyle comes in to see our showings a lot and we hit it off pretty quickly once he managed to grow a pair and ask me out. James said you three are all in engineering together?”
The man in question groaned at her words. “Yeah, except Peter here is an overachiever and insists on cheating on us with physics of all things. You’d think chemical engineering would be enough for him, but nooo he just has to prove his superiority by double majoring.” James smiled at Peter to show that he didn’t actually mind, he was just poking fun.
Sam was nodding in agreement and perked up as she caught sight of Kyle making his way over to them.
“What’s up, party people!” The linguistics major threw an arm around Lindsay once he got close enough and dragged her in for a kiss. He had dyed the tips of his hair white since Peter had last seen him, and surprisingly it didn’t look that bad.
“Gross, save it for later you two.” James wrinkled his nose at the couple.
“Way to get your timing down, Kyle.” Sam gestured toward where they were now being beckoned forward by one of the bouncers. He detached his face from Lindsay’s to grin at the purple haired girl, holding out his hand smugly to receive his entry stamp. She rolled her eyes and grabbed Peter’s hand to pull him in behind her.
The second they were inside he was assaulted with a series of flashing lights. The club was large and completely jam packed with people dancing, drinking, and overall just having a blast. It was a lot. Peter wanted to slap himself for forgetting to bring his sensory ear plugs that Mr. Stark had made him to filter out unnecessary noise. He normally had a pair in his school bag so he didn’t think to grab them when he was leaving.
Oblivious to his plight, James grabbed both his and Sam’s hands and dragged them over to the bar where Kyle and Lindsay had somehow already managed to flag down a bartender.
“Shots!” The redhead cheered, grabbing five glasses of concerningly pink liquid and handing them out to each of them.
“To Peter!” James raised his with a grin. “For finally becoming old enough to make poor decisions legally!”
“We apologize in advance for your hangover tomorrow,” Kyle simpered, tapping his glass against the counter and throwing back the shot.
Peter watched the others do the same and proceeded to down his drink in one go. He was surprised not to feel the familiar burn of liquor running down his throat, instead it tasted like lemonade that was a few weeks past its expiration date. He smacked his lips in displeasure and looked around to see the others wince and shudder at the liquid.
Lindsay shook the shiver off with a cheer and grabbed his and Kyle’s arms to pull them out into the crowd of bodies. “Let’s dance!”
The next two hours passed by in a blur of sweaty strangers and various different forms of alcohol. At one point he saw Sam and James pressed up against each other in the hallway by the bathrooms, and half an hour later he noticed Sam and Lindsay doing the same by the staff door while the boys got another round. That was certainly going to be an interesting conversation later.
For the most part, Peter was having fun. He could’ve done without the crowd and the booming music, but he’d experienced worse before. He had a minor headache but the only real issue was that his friends kept foisting drinks upon him when they realized that he was, at most, buzzed.
“I can’t believe you’re not drunk yet,” Lindsay hiccupped from where she was leaning against his shoulder. Peter hummed and shrugged noncommittally without dislodging her head as he took another sip of whatever fruity cocktail she had ordered him. He had learned a lot about Kyle’s girlfriend over the past couple hours, and was a bit surprised at how much he actually liked her. She was a lightweight with her alcohol but whip smart and possessed this carefree energy that drew people in like moths to a flame. She wasn’t afraid to ask questions and took all of his answers at face value, even if most people wouldn’t have believed that he got his new StarkWatch from his now totally real internship.
“I just have a really fast metabolism,” he told her, not wanting to bring up the chug jug from hell that Jessica had crafted for him last weekend. He’s fairly certain it was just homemade moonshine and a packet of Kool-Aid. She groaned and lifted her head to wave a hand at the woman polishing glasses near them.
“Could I get a water please? I’m afraid I might’ve overdid it a little trying to keep up with this monster.” The bartender laughed and ducked down to grab a bottle of water from the minifridge at her feet. Peter grabbed it to unscrew the lid before handing it to Lindsay. She must’ve been thirsty because within a minute the bottle was empty.
Peter let his eyes wander over the room as his friend grabbed the bowl of peanuts near them and started munching on them slowly. “I can’t believe how clean the walls are here, and the LED displays are all so vivid. Are other clubs this well-maintained in Midtown?”
Lindsay gave him a weird look. “Peter, it’s fucking filthy in here. I’m drunk and even I know that. I mean, have you seen the floors?
He blinked in surprise and looked down at the linoleum. There was dirt from people traveling in and out and the occasional plastic cup or lost accessory, but there weren’t any bodily fluids or broken glass so he’d call that a win. “Is it really? It feels so tame here, sure the music is loud and there’s a lot of people but I haven’t seen a single fight break out at all tonight. Plus, the people who get sick run to the bathroom first and the bouncers didn’t let that one guy with a gun even come in.”
Lindsay pulled away from him to stare. “Peter, what the hell kind of TV shows are you watching that made you think that is the standard for a good club? Seriously, all that mafia shit is so over exaggerated, you shouldn’t use it as any sort of reference for what bar culture is like.” She shook her head in disappointment. “Men.”
Peter opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a loud wailing that overrided the music as flashing red lights dropped down from the ceiling. He pressed one hand over his ear and used the other to grab Lindsay as they joined the throng of people pushing their way out of the building as they registered the fire alarm. He pulled her close to his side as people pushed against them from all sides and felt her arm wrap around his midsection tightly. They clung together as they were suddenly hit with a blast of fresh air (or as fresh as you can get in NYC) out on the sidewalk.
He looked back at the building and saw a few staff members ushering people out, three of which caught his eye and he flagged them down. Sam noticed him first and grabbed the arms of the other two boys to pull them over to him. They all looked a bit dazed as the emergency evacuation combined with the sudden lack of pounding music forced them out of their drunken haze.
“Are you all okay?” Peter asked as soon as they were close enough. He kept one arm around Lindsay both to keep her from getting separated and to preserve body heat. It was still technically summer, but these early September evenings often brought an unwelcome chill with them and tonight was no exception.
“Yeah, we’re good.” James replied as Kyle pouted fiercely.
“This sucks, it’s not even eleven and we’ve been booted out cause some idiot probably got dared to pull the fire alarm.” He scowled at the building in displeasure.
“How do you know there’s not actually a fire?” Sam raised a brow at him.
Kyle nodded towards a group of young men standing guiltily by the front door while a man dressed in a suit yelled at them. It was pretty damning.
“We don’t have to go home yet,” Lindsay soothed her boyfriend. “This is Manhattan, there’s got to be a million other places nearby. Let’s just wander around until we find somewhere good and keep the party going!”
Kyle seemed appeased by that and threw his arms over Sam and James’s shoulders. “Sounds good to me! Let’s go, geniuses!”
Receiving no protest from the others, he began skipping off in a seemingly random direction with his two captives in tow. Peter and Lindsay followed behind at a more leisurely pace, content to use the walk as a chance to refresh before they inevitably got pulled in to more drinking at whatever bar they ended up at. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only people with this idea as the next five clubs they passed had lines wrapped around the block from fellow party goers that had been kicked out of Phoenix. After walking for about ten minutes and starting to grow tired of Kyle’s unwillingness to wait in line anywhere, Peter realized he recognized the street they were on.
“Oh,” he said, shocked.
“What’s up?” James glanced back at him.
“Nothing, sorry. I just realized we’re really close to my friend’s bar.”
The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about their repercussions. Kyle spun around with a gleam in his eyes.
“Your friend owns a bar? Why didn’t you say so earlier, let’s go!”
Peter’s eyes widened and he flailed his hands desperately. “Oh, no. No, I didn’t mean it like that. He owns a bar, yes, but it’s really not the kind of place most people would want to go and hang out. We should just find somewhere else.”
Kyle was not listening, as he had already locked on target upon spotting the crappy old sign advertising “Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children HELLHOUSE” and was beelining towards it. Peter continued to stammer out protests as they all trailed after him, but his words went unheard. Once they got close enough, they could hear the sounds of music and boisterous laughter ringing out from the boarded up windows. The walls were covered in graffiti and there was no line at all, just a single bouncer snoring up against the wall. Kyle nudged the man with his foot and he woke with what sounded like an off-tune battle cry.
The green-spandex clad man blinked up at them. “Oh, hi Peter. Are these your friends?”
Kyle’s grin widened. “Yeah, we are. Can we go inside?” He held out his hand for a stamp. Bob stared at him in confusion and hesitantly reached out to grab his fingers before leaning over to plant a wet kiss on his knuckles.
“Um,” the linguist looked like a deer caught in headlights.
Peter sighed and nudged him forward. “Just go in, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Sorry, Bob. You can go back to your nap.”
The ex-hydra agent gave him a thumbs up and proceeded to do just that. Peter’s friends all gave him weird looks as he ushered them inside.
It was pandemonium. The second the door swung closed behind them a plate flew over their heads and shattered against the wall. Lindsay squeaked.
“PETER!”
The brunette braced himself just in time for a man decked out in crimson kevlar to come flying at him from God knows where. The two of them went tumbling to the ground and rolled a few times before stopping with Peter perched on top of Deadpool’s chest like an acrobat.
“Hiya, Bambi! You didn’t say you were coming by tonight!” The mercenary sounded all too delighted to have the younger man practically standing on his ribcage.
Welp, no point in fighting this now. If his friend’s wanted the Sister Margaret’s experience then he wasn’t going to stop them. Accepting his fate, Peter settled down so he was sitting cross-legged on top of his friend. “My friends and I were out at that new club Phoenix, but someone pulled the fire alarm so we all got kicked out. They didn’t want to go home yet so we needed a new place to hang out.”
Wade’s face might have been covered but he knew that the man was grinning like a maniac underneath his mask. “So you brought them here? Just to hang out with little ol’ me? Petey, you shouldn’t have!”
Large hands slotted themselves into his armpits from behind and he was hoisted into the air with his legs dangling in a way that was not dissimilar to that one scene from the Lion King.
“The kid’s here!” A gruff voice yelled. Peter looked over his shoulder to see the Wolverine giving him a predatory grin.
“Logan, please don’t-” his words were cut off as he was launched into the middle of the bar like a human missile. Not bothering to change his course as the man’s chosen projectile, Peter simply raised his arms to cover his head as he crashed into someone that let out a loud cry upon impact.
“Hey, Weasel.” He looked down at the man as though he hadn’t just been flung across the room at him.
Jack groaned and let his head thunk back against the wooden floorboards. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Peter!” A voice cried out. Once again, he found himself being lifted off of a man and pulled into a bone crushing hug.
“Can’t breathe,” he wheezed.
The woman released him and immediately thrust a glass of amber liquid into his hand. “Back for round two, Webs?” Jessica Jones bared her teeth in a way that was probably supposed to be a smile but looked far too menacing to be any sort of friendly.
Peter shook his head frantically. “No, nope. Absolutely not, my college friends just wanted to grab a couple of casual drinks and the other place we were at got shut down for the night. No need for round two.”
“Shame,” she hummed, producing a flask from out of nowhere and taking a swig.
“Why are you all here?” Peter glanced around the room to find that there was a surprisingly large number of patrons at the bar tonight. He spotted Matt at the counter conversing with Patch, who was flipping through a stack of papers ominously. Ah.
“New jobs,” she said.
That explains it. If he had learned anything about mercenaries from being friends with Wade, it was that they would fight over jobs like a pack of rabid wolves just to avoid getting the sucky ones. Everyone wanted the destination trip to kill some pedophilic corporate snob, no one wanted the complicated political hits that were more trouble than they were worth.
He looked back at his wide-eyed friends who were busy being ushered into the main room by Wade. This was a terrible night to bring them here. Over by the pool tables, there was an uproarious shout of injustice as Logan smirked victoriously with a pool cue in hand. The look only lasted as long as it took for someone to break a billiard stick over his back. He growled and launched himself at the offending man and a new cheer broke out, people quickly pulling money out of their pockets as the men brawled.
“20 on Davis!” Wade called out, most likely just to piss Logan off.
Peter pushed his way through the crowd and smiled sheepishly at his bewildered friends. “I told you so?”
“Peter,” Sam said. “What the actual hell?”
A heavy arm was slung around his shoulders and he didn’t blink twice at the extra weight. Wade had pulled his mask up over his nose and was nursing a mug of murky brown liquid. He sighed for the dozenth time that night.
“Guys, this is my friend Wade. He owns this place. Wade, these are my friends from school, Sam, Lindsay, Kyle, and James.”
“A pleasure, kiddies.” Peter could feel the mercenary’s gloved hand playing with the hair by his ear. He had the offhanded thought that he really ought to cut it soon, it was starting to get uncomfortable under his mask when he was out Spider-manning.
“Aren’t you Deadpool?” James asked bluntly.
“The one and only! You want an autograph? I’m sure Mattie over there has a pen stashed somewhere in that suit. Lawyer’s carry pens everywhere, right? Hey, Mattie!” Wade set off towards the blind man without removing his arm from where it had wound around Peter, resulting in the brunette getting dragged along with the merc as he crossed the bar.
He glanced back just in time to see the others look at each other and have some sort of silent conversation before Lindsay shrugged and followed after them, snagging a half-full glass from where it had been abandoned on the bar top and taking a sip. She fought a gag at the strong gasoline flavor that all of the alcohol in Sister Margaret’s seemed to possess but didn’t put the drink down. The others trailed after her cautiously.
Peter turned forward to see that Daredevil was smiling at him softly. “Hey, Pete. Doing okay?”
He relaxed at the instant comfort he got from being near the older vigilante. “Yeah, thanks Matt. How did the trial go for that kid?”
The lawyer tapped his fingers in consideration. “It went well, we got him off on six months community service and a small fine. Poor kid’s mother started crying in court when they delivered the sentence, she was terrified he’d end up in jail with how hard the prosecution was pushing.”
“He probably would’ve if not for you.” Peter smiled and nudged the man’s shoulder best he could from his Wade cocoon.
“Nah, he was being tried as a minor, I’m sure he would’ve been fine.”
“Sure,” Peter scoffed. “We’ll pretend that’s true. Did you get another casserole?”
Matt’s lips quirked up. “Two. One for me and one for Foggy.”
“You got a pen somewhere in all those layers, DD?” Wade plopped his chin on top of Peter’s head, having already abandoned his drink somewhere to leech onto his back. The trapped vigilante used the switch in conversation to check back in on his friends. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the girls had been roped into a game of pool with Jessica and Logan - who had won his fight, proven by Davis’s unconscious form propped up in the corner - and the boys were chatting with Weasel as he expertly shuffled a deck of cards. They looked much more comfortable than they had when they arrived, and he might dare say they were even having fun. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“C’mon, baby boy. Patchy is withholding valuable information over there and I want to make sure I get first dibs on the new jobs.” Wade untangled his limbs from where he had been octopused around the younger man. Peter glanced over at the wall to see Patch starting to staple papers onto the board.
“Ooo, Costa Rica!” A nameless merc that he didn’t recognize started reaching for one of the sheets. That was all it took for several other people - including Wade - to dog pile each other and start fighting over jobs. Peter settled onto the stool next to Matt and watched in amusement as the group of grown men fought like toddlers over a new toy. At one point the fight escalated and there was a splash of blood against the wall.
“Aw, man.” Weasel looked disappointed. “We just cleaned up from last time.” He walked over to the sign by the dartboard that read:
Days since Wade was last murdered
6
He erased the six and replaced it with a zero. A quick glance over to the pool table showed Lindsay quirking an eyebrow in mild interest before returning her attention to where Sam was lining up for her next shot.
Yeah, Peter thought, this isn’t so bad.
He took back the thought as soon as Wade woke up and gave him a bloody hug.