Chapter Text
Peter shrugged his backpack higher up on his shoulders, keeping his head down as he hurried down the sidewalk. He had to get home now.
That son of a bitch.
He and his groupmates from science class had gathered after school to work on their lab report, which amounted to the other three losers playing video games while Peter did all the work. Peter didn’t care: he was pretty relieved that they hadn’t tried to interfere like they had during the actual lab, with Matt trying to switch the labels on all of the chemicals and Nico trying to light Abdi’s shirt on fire. Peter wasn’t about to take the F because of their idiocy.
He had overheard Nico suggesting that they do something nice for Peter to thank him for his hard work, and Peter actually thought that was pretty big of him. He was more than willing to be rewarded for his efforts when Matt brought out the plate of double-chocolate cookies (apparently made by his mother). It wasn’t until he was polishing off the second cookie that he noticed the other three boys grinning wildly at him.
“How you feeling, Parker?” Matt asked slyly.
“What do you...” the color drained from Peter’s face. “What did you do?”
“Should be feeling pretty nice in a few minutes,” Nico grinned. “Half a cookie is usually good for me, so you’re going to be...”
Peter’s mouth ran dry. “I... have to go...” he mumbled, hurriedly shoving the finished lap report into his backpack, gathering his things, and running out the door, ignoring the chorus of laughter that trailed behind him.
Of course there had been weed in the cookies. Of course Matt wasn’t capable of doing something nice. Of course the others had been screwing with him the whole time.
Of course he was staying with Tony Stark this week.
May was out of town visiting family but didn’t want Peter to miss school, so she had arranged for him to stay at the tower with Tony. Though Peter was more than capable of looking after himself, she didn’t feel that it was safe for him to be left alone. This meant that Peter was about to face Tony Stark after consuming an indeterminate amount of marijuana. After all the lectures that he and Bruce had given him about the stuff... Tony had remarked that they wouldn’t know what kind of impact that cannabis would have on Peter given his unique condition and wondered aloud if they should do some experiments. However, Bruce had pointed out that cannabis had a negative impact on the development of adolescent brains, so it would be much safer for them to wait before allowing Peter to have any kind of exposure, even in a controlled environment.
So much for that... Peter had accidentally initiated the experiment far too early.
Tony would be so pissed off. Even if he believed that it was just a mistake (which he probably wouldn’t), he would wonder how Peter could be stupid enough to get himself in such a position in the first place. He had to be more responsible than that.
Peter shook his head. He couldn’t think about that right now. He just needed to get home. He didn’t know what being high would feel like, but he didn’t want to find out in the middle of a busy street. Not only that, but he needed to pee. He had had to go since lunch time, but he didn’t get a chance at school because he was too busy trying to prevent the others from sabotaging their science experiment, and he had been too focused (and maybe a bit too shy) to ask to use the facilities at Matt’s house. He was paying for that now, but it was fine. He just had to get home and pee, then he could figure out how to deal with Tony.
He was about two blocks from the tower when he started to feel... warm. No, maybe not warm... maybe just a little... soft... like his limbs were made of gelatin and his mind filled with molten caramel...
He felt nice.
He began smiling in spite of himself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He would just feel a little relaxed... Tony wouldn’t need to know. He could just keep to himself and head to bed early. Everything was fine.
When he got to the tower, he stood in front of the revolving door, riveted by its motion. Whose idea was it to design doors this way? Could you get stuck? What if you got inside and suddenly weren’t strong enough to keep pushing? What about the automated ones? What if they started moving too fast? What if...
He suddenly found himself on the other side.
Oh.
He made his way sluggishly to the elevators and had to try three times to hit the “up” button.
“To the penthouse, Mr. Parker?” Jarvis asked, startling Peter into oblivion.
“Y...yes,” he stammered. “Please. Is, um... is Mr. Stark home?”
“Tony Stark is out of the building at the moment. Shall I call him for you?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Peter said, trying to ignore the twinge from his bladder.
“Mr. Parker, I am detecting abnormalities in your vitals. I shall alert Mr. Stark.”
“No, please!” Peter cried. “There is no need for that.”
“Very well,” Jarvis responded. “Welcome to the penthouse.”
Peter blinked. They were already at the top floor?
“Thank you,” he said dumbly, stepping out of the elevator and surveying his surroundings. He felt so strange. He was groggy but somehow alert. He felt overwhelmed by the lights and sounds around him. He felt... hungry. Very hungry.
He plodded off to the kitchen and opened the first cupboard that he saw. “That’ll do,” he thought, reaching for the bag of tortilla chips on the second shelf.
His thirst intensified just looking at the bag of salty chips, so he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge as well. Not quite knowing what to do with himself, he wandered off toward the rec room and settled in on the couch. As he sank back into the cushions, he felt as though his muscles were turning to mush. He had never felt so relaxed.
After fumbling with the bag of chips for the better part of a minute, he managed to tear the bag nearly in half. He grabbed a few of the salty delights and shoved them in his mouth. They immediately hit the spot and left him wanting more. One at a time, he reminded himself.
Munching away, he looked around the room again. Were the walls... moving? ...no, certainly not. He wasn't hallucinating. He was just high. Wait... what type of drug was marijuana anyway? What was the difference between the types?
A sudden realization dawned on him. The other boys never explicitly said that it was weed in the cookies. What if this was something else?
Peter had never tried recreational drugs of any kind, so he had nothing to compare it to. Was this normal? What if it wasn't? What was he supposed to do? How would he know if he needed help? How could he get help without telling Tony?
Tony...
No, there was no way that Tony could find out about this. He would be beyond disappointed. He would think that Peter was just another careless teenager, certainly not someone worthy of working with The Avengers. No, he would need to keep this to himself and just hope that he felt normal by the next morning.
He reached for another chip and founding himself groping around in an empty bag. He blinked slowly. He'd already polished them off?
Numbly, he raised the water bottle to his lips, relishing the feeling of the cool water slipping down his parched throat.
As he drank, he felt an uneasiness growing in the pit of his stomach. How was he going to keep Tony from finding out? Surely, he would see right through him. He could barely see straight, let alone form a coherent sentence. How did...
A sudden spasm from his abdomen interrupted his train of thought.
"Ooof," Peter said, shifting in his spot. He really needed to go. He would have to take care of that as soon as possible. He looked down at the water bottle in his hand and was alarmed to find it empty. He had downed the entire 750 mL. He was in trouble now.
"Ah.. ahhh!" he gasped as he tried to stand. As he straightened up, he became overwhelmed with dizziness. He wobbled on the spot, reaching out for something to steady himself with.
"What the..." he muttered, shutting his eyes and willing the room to stop spinning. He tensed every muscle in his body to keep his bladder from letting go on the spot. "N-n-no, this can't be happening..."
He couldn't move an inch for fear of peeing where he stood, and he knew that he'd never be able to make it to the bathroom in this state (at least not without arousing suspicion from Jarvis, who would detect his erratic gait). He sank back down onto the couch, his head lolling back and resting against the cushions. He squeezed himself through his pants as he tried to come up with a solution. What were his options here?
He opened one eye and looked down at the vessel in the cupholder beside him. The bottle? No... there was far too great a chance of getting caught. Could someone help him get to the bathroom? Not without Tony finding out. Could he just wait it out until he was sober enough to get there on his own?
That seemed to be the only viable solution at this point, so Peter just squeezed himself a bit harder and tried to ignore the growing desperation.
With nothing but his thoughts to occupy him, Peter grew increasingly anxious. He couldn't stop thinking about how stupid he was for getting himself into this. He should have just finished up the lab report and left. He should have just peed when he had the chance. He should have asked if there was something in the cookies. He shouldn't have had more than one. Now, he either had to avoid Mr. Stark for the rest of the night or lie to his face if confronted. Tony would know... nothing gets past him. He would be furious. He would ban Peter from the tower and take away his suit. He would tell Aunt May. He would tell everybody what a snivelling idiot kid he was. He regret every taking Peter on as his mentee and trusting him with this level of responsibility.
Peter's pulse quickened, and each deep, shuddering breath seemed to send jolts of pain directly to his bladder. This was bad. Very, very bad.
His head pounded. He needed to get out of there. Immediately.
He was just about to try to lift himself off of the couch again, when...
“Kid?” Tony called from the hallway. “You home?”
Peter froze. How was Tony home already? What time was it?
“Jarvis,” Tony called out. “Where is Peter?”
“He is in the recreation room, presently,” Jarvis replied. “His current state may be of interest to you.”
What?! Peter began to panic. He could not let Tony see him like this. He had to get out. He was about to wet his pants. He...
Tony appeared in the doorway. “There you are, kiddo!"
Peter plastered the most synthetic of smiles onto his face. "Hey, Misters Tark..." he slurred.
"Why are you hiding in here?"
Peter blinked slowly, squeezing his thighs together. “Not hiding, s-ir,” he said, his voice cracking.
Tony cocked his head. “What’s going on with you?” He took a few steps into the room and stood in front of Peter, looking him up and down. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Peter lied, angling his body away from Tony.
Tony crossed his arms. “Look at me.”
Peter kept his gaze averted, wincing as his bladder gave another painful throb.
“Look at me, Parker,” Tony said firmly, taking a wider stance.
Peter looked up innocently at Tony and smiled weakly.
Tony’s eyes widened, his brow furrowing. “Your eyes...” he murmured. Tony lifted Peter’s chin with his hand. “What did you do? Are you high?”
“N-no, Mizter Stark,” he stammered. “Jusst’ired is all.”
“Bullshit,” Tony said stepping backward and shaking his head. “Your eyes are redder than your suit. You’re stoned. We’ve talked about this. You’re too young. Don’t you remember what Bruce told you?”
“I-it... it wasn’t...” Peter’s limbs were beginning to shake. He was letting Tony down, and he couldn’t find the words to explain himself. Not only that, but his bladder was threatening to burst, and there was nothing that he could do about it. This was the end.
“I thought you were more responsible than that,” Tony admonished, shaking his head. “What am I supposed to do with this? How much did you take? You’re sweating..."
Peter’s teeth chattered. “You...” he gasped, tightening his grip on the front of his pants. “J-j-just... I... p-please...” This was too much. He was about to pee himself in front of the person he admired most. He needed to get out of there, but he couldn’t even stand up. His face paled as his breaths grew increasingly shallow.
Tony’s face softened. He was kneeling at Peter’s side in an instant. “Hey,” he said gently, “what hurts?”
Peter shook his head from side to side, the tears now beginning to spill. “C-can’t...” he hiccuped. His heart pounded in his ears.
Tony pressed two fingers to the side of Peter’s neck. “Your pulse is racing...” he said, pulling out his phone. “We may need to get Dr. Banner up here...”
“N-no!” Peter sputtered, his body pitching forward. “No, please...”
Tony rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Talk to me, buddy,” he pleaded. “What is it? What do you feel?”
Just say it, Peter said. Just tell him that you have to pee. But he couldn’t. By this point, he was so full of panic that he could hardly breathe.
Tony’s eyes finally trailed down to where Peter was frantically grabbing himself. “Oh...” Tony said. “Do... do you need the bathroom, kiddo?”
A wave of humiliation washed over Peter. Hearing it out loud like that was just... he shook his head again, pulling away from Tony.
"Peter, it's okay," Tony soothed. "Just tell me... do you need to pee?"
"No!" Peter gasped. "I'm fine." Nonetheless, his painfully contorted body posture and wild eyes betrayed him.
“You’re not thinking straight, pal!” Tony said, standing up and slipping a hand under Peter’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
There was no point in denying it any longer. Peter rose gingerly to his feet, immediately crossing his legs and shutting his eyes as the room began to swirl around him. “Ugh...”
Tony took hold of both of Peter’s arms. “Come on, Pete. We just need to... hey, easy...” he coaxed, as Peter's legs gave out beneath him.
Tony hoisted Peter up, steadying him on his feet. "Can you walk?"
Peter’s bloodshot eyes brimmed with tears as he looked up into his mentor’s searching eyes.
“Okay,” Tony said, nodding slowly. “Okay, buddy. I’ve got you.”
He pulled Peter’s arm over his own neck with his left hand and slipped his right around Peter’s waist. He half-carried, half-dragged Peter down the hall to the bathroom. Peter let out a whine as the liquid sloshed in his bladder, threatening to spill.
“Almost there,” Tony soothed. “Hold it in just a little longer...”
When they made it to the bathroom, Peter tried to get both feet on the floor and sprint to the toilet, but it was pretty clear to Tony that the young lad wouldn’t be able to stand on his own.
“Think you can manage this one sitting down?” Tony asked, helping the spiderling over to the toilet.
Peter’s cheeks burned as he reached out to steady himself against the wall.
“I’ll let you take it from here,” Tony said stepping out of the room to give Peter some privacy. “Let me know when you’re done!”
As soon as Tony closed the door behind him, Peter tore down his pants and collapsed onto the toilet. Finally, he thought, he could get some relief.
Except...
....
...why wasn’t this working?
Peter squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate. This should be the easy part. He just had to let go...
Despite the incredible haze clouding his senses, he was acutely aware of the fact that Tony was about to hear him pee.
“M...Mr. Stark?” Peter croaked. “Could you... um... cover your ears?” He could feel the blush creeping up to his ears.
“I’ll do you one better,” Tony called back. “I’ll go for a little walk and come back for you.”
Peter heard Tony’s footsteps padding down the hallway and breathed a sigh of relief. Surely, he would be able to go now.
He had to.
His entire body trembled as he willed himself to release, but nothing was happening. His abdomen ached terribly. Why couldn’t he let go?”
He was thinking too hard... he just needed to clear his head. Maybe he could meditate his way out. He tried to picture himself by the ocean, watching the waves roll in. He was standing ankle-deep in the sand, feeling the sea spray mist his face as the wind tousled his hair. This was it. He just needed to take a deep breath, relax, and...
A sharp knock pulled Peter from his reverie.
“All good, sport?” Tony called through the door.
“Umm... one second,” Peter squeaked, staggering to his feet and pulling up his pants. “Yeah... all set.” What was his plan, now?
Tony opened the door slowly, smiling. “Feeling better?”
Peter nodded weakly, keeping his eyes down. He fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, swaying slightly on the spot.
“This conversation isn’t over,” Tony said, slipping his arm around Peter’s middle. "When you can actually form a coherent thought, you can... hey, kid?"
Peter’s legs shook violently as he tried his best to take a step, sending him nearly crashing to the ground. Tony managed to catch him, carefully helping him sink to down his knees.
“Peter!” Tony exclaimed, kneeling in front of him. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Peter gulped, choking back tears. It hurt so bad, but how was he supposed to tell Tony that he hadn’t gone?
Tony's danced as he shifted his jaw pensively. “Jarvis,” he called out. “What’s wrong with the boy?”
“Preliminary analysis shows a rapid heart rate and heightened muscle tension,” Jarvis replied. “Mr. Parker appears to be in extreme discomfort. Pain signals are strongest near the bladder.”
Tony blinked at Peter. “You still have to go?”
Peter bit his lip and hung his head in shame. “I couldn’t go,” he whispered, his lip quivering.
Tony was speechless. “Well... we have to take care of this. Come on...” He hoisted Peter to his feet and pushed him backward toward the toilet. “Drop ‘em.”
“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, his eyes beginning to spill. “Please... you can’t...”
Tony touched Peter’s cheek. “Peter,” he said, “you are a human being in distress, and I am here to help you. Please let me.”
Peter gulped, fighting back another round of tears, but obediently dropped his pants.
Tony eased Peter back down onto the toilet. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s try this.” He stepped over to the sink and turned the faucet on just enough to allow for a small trickle.
Peter winced at the sound, which only made him clench his muscles tighter.
“No, no,” Tony said, noticing Peter scissoring his legs. “No holding. Relax.” He gently eased Peter’s knees apart.
Peter rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. This could not be happening.
“Just pretend I’m not here,” Tony urged. “Relax and let it all go.”
Peter sniffled. “It hurts.”
Tony patted Peter's knee. “I know, buddy. Think about how good it will feel when you just let it happen.”
The sound of the trickling faucet cut harshly through the cloud in Peter’s brain, making him desperate to do just that, but it was all too much. He needed a distraction. Anything.
He swallowed, letting his eyes flutter shut. “It was an accident.”
Tony tilted his head. “What was? Getting high?”
Peter nodded and opened his mouth to continue when he involuntarily released the inaugural spurt into the toilet. He gasped, instinctively cutting off the stream.
“Shh, that’s good!” Tony said, rubbing Peter’s thigh. “Keep talking. Tell me what happened.”
“I...” Peter squirmed with discomfort. “I... I was at M-Matt’s house... for a p-project...” The flow picked up again quickly, hissing loudly into the bowl below. “He h-had these cookies, and... ah...” Peter continued, trying desperately to cover up the sound in between laboured breaths.
“Ahhh... edibles.” Tony said, suddenly reaching a moment of clarity. “I suppose they didn’t tell you that they were special cookies.”
“Right,” Peter panted, now peeing with record-breaking force. “Said his mom m-made them... I took... I had one...” he gulped, “then another... after a while, they were all smiling at me...”
“Oh God,” Tony said. “Edibles are no joke. The stuff doesn’t get distributed evenly in the batter, so you don’t know how much you’re getting with each bite.” He scrubbed his hand across his face. “Usually, a quarter of a cookie is enough to do it. You had way too much.”
“I know,” Peter mumbled, this time having trouble thinking about anything other than how amazing it felt to finally let go. “Soon as I knew, came... ahhhh... straight home...” He let out a deep, contented sigh as the tension flowed from his body.
“You did the right thing, buddy,” Tony said with a smile. “Always come home. Just call me next time.”
“Was so scared,” Peter murmured. “Knew you’d be mad.”
Tony’s face fell. “I’m not mad Peter. I just care about you. If you ever end up in any kind of situation like this, you call me, okay? No matter what.”
Peter nodded, sighing deeply again as the sound of his steady stream continued to echo through the room.
“My God,” Tony said in awe. “How can you hold that much in the tank?”
Peter’s cheeks reddened again, but he said nothing. He just kept his eyes closed to avoid further humiliation as the stream slowed to a trickle and eventually – finally – stopped.
“All finished?” Tony asked, straightening up.
“God, I hope so,” Peter said, finally lifting his head and letting his shoulders sag.
"Now do you feel better?"
"Bout ten pounds lighter," Peter sighed, past the point of caring about what Tony had just witnessed.
"Good, good," Tony said, rummaging through one of the bathroom cabinets and pulling out a small black zippered pouch. "Hang on just one second, kid," he said, kneeling back down in front of Peter. "Give me your arm."
Peter obediently extended his arm, allowing Tony to draw some blood. "Z'that really necessary?"
"I'm going to have Jarvis analyze it and determine your THC levels," Tony said. "This way, we can have a better understanding of how it impacts your body compared to the average person's. I also just want to make sure that there was nothing else in those cookies."
"Good idea," Peter murmured, letting his eyes close again.
Tony pocketed the vial of blood and pressed a piece of gauze to Peter's arm. "You did good, kid."
"Did I?" Peter asked hazily, lifting his head. "Don't feel very smart right now."
Tony laughed. "Getting off of the toilet will help. Come on."
He helped Peter onto his feet and supported him as he pulled his pants up, then scooped the boy up into his arms.
"Mr. Stark!" Peter exclaimed.
"Easier this way," Tony said matter-of-factly, carrying Peter off to his bedroom.
He laid Peter gently on the bed. "Wait here," he said. "I'm just going to run the blood sample."
Peter closed his eyes. He felt infinitely better with an empty bladder, and though he still felt incredibly sheepish, he was doubly relieved to know that Tony didn't hate him. Nonetheless, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Was Tony only pretending that he wasn't mad? Was he just waiting for Peter to sober up so that he could lay into him properly? Would he..."
"Ow!" Peter gasped, his eyes snapping open in response to the sharp pain in his arm.
"Sorry, kid," Tony said, taping the IV needle into place. "I thought you were asleep. Your blood sugar is low, so I'm putting you on fluids."
"Fluids?" Peter said worriedly. "Won't those make me have to..."
"Pee?" Tony responded with a smirk. "Yes, they will, but I'll be there to help you when it happens."
Peter gulped. This was so embarrassing.
"You have unreasonably high levels of THC in your blood," Tony said. "Fortunately, it doesn't look like there was anything else in those cookies. You'll feel a lot better after a good night's sleep."
Peter nodded. He sure hoped so.
"What's on your mind, buddy?" Tony asked, sitting next to Peter on the bed.
Peter looked the other way.
"Oh, no you don't," Tony said, squeezing Peter's shoulder. "Tell me what's bothering you."
Peter wished he could just sink down into the mattress and disappear. He pulled his quivering limbs closer to his body and shut his eyes.
"Listen, Peter," Tony said calmly. "What happened today wasn't your fault. You're not in trouble."
Peter froze. "I'm not?"
"No," Tony replied. "You found yourself in a situation that you weren't prepared for, and you responded appropriately. You came straight home, and now you're safe. Crisis averted."
Peter fidgeted with the blanket. "You probably think I'm a baby though."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "For having a fully-functioning bladder?" he said with a chuckle. "No, Peter. There was nothing you could have done differently. There's no shame in needing some help."
Tony pulled the blanket up to Peter's shoulders and tucked him in properly. "You may be feeling some anxiety right now, but that's just the drugs trying to screw with you," he said. "You are safe and surrounded by people who care about you."
Peter nodded and let his eyes close again.
"Next time, though," Tony said, this time more firmly, "if you are in any kind of trouble, no matter what, you call me directly. Even if you think you can handle it on your own... you call me. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, Mr. Stark," Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tony ruffled his hair. "Get some sleep, kid," he said, straightening up to leave. He paused at the door with his hand on the light switch. "Peter?" he said.
"Hmm?" Peter hummed, squinting at Tony.
Tony could help but smile at the adorable teenager. "Don't get any ideas," he said. "Everything may have worked out okay this time, but you still can't be experimenting with that shit. You hear me?"
"Trust me," Peter said dreamily, "I have no intention of peeing in front of you again."
Tony stifled a laugh. "Good night, Peter," he said, softly closing the door behind him.