Street Stealing Style
Street Stealing Style
It was a vigilante thing.
Of course, they didn’t know it was a vigilante thing at first; they didn’t even suspect it to be one. It was so casual that they almost didn’t notice.
Almost.
Because Natasha and Bucky are the Black Widow and Winter Soldier and nothing escapes their notice. Everything is careful inspected and analyzed, every single bit of information, rumor or whisper. And that didn’t stop at their son, in fact the instinct was amplified around Peter Parker, because Peter knew this and made a game out of tricking and evading them.
Sam said it was a coping mechanism. Natasha thinks that’s a load of bullshit.
Natasha, as usual, noticed first because that was just how his partner was. She was always more observant or more in the loop than he was with just about everything and he was fine with that- no really, it was kinda a given in their relationship/partnership/thing-he-didn’t-have-a-name-for that she was clearly the dominant one, she’s the Black Widow afterall. If he needed to know something, he’d know and he was perfectly content with knowing Nat would always -always - know more - because she was never content with just enough. If she needed him to know something, she’d tell him.
Peter moving in(again) wasn’t especially enlightening or eye opening, he just bowed his head, shuffled into his room again and closed the door. It did have a different feel to it though. The air was more relaxed, more familiar (he let his guard down a little, trusted them just the slightest and Bucky thinks that’s a step forward. He wasn’t as skittish or paranoid so it definitely was a step forward...right?).
This time they did start to notice more things - important things - about him because he was trying to be more open with them. Not super big things, little things. Small, seemingly insignificant things and quirks that Peter had and didn’t let show on a conscious level around other people. He let himself slip and be more spacey around them. They hadn’t paid attention to that before, because the first time they paid attention to all the big things that was wrong with their son. Now they paid attention to his small quirks and the things that made Peter Peter, and everything kinda made more sense. He felt like he knew the real Peter when he noticed them.
One particular thing stood out (well a lot of things stood out, Peter wasn’t exactly a normal kid. Even without the abilities there was the eating disorder due to malnutrition and the sleeping disorder due to paranoia and nightmares - really bad nightmares apparently - and that also factored into the PTSD and the heightened anxiety and the dissociation and his blatant lack of self care and...well you get it. A lot of disorders that had never been cared for properly) but this wasn’t one that stemmed from the… big things, which is why it stood out. Actually it didn’t really stand out so much as it was unique, it started as more of a mild observation, born from harmless suspicion.
Peter didn’t wear his own clothes.
They first noted that Peter wore big cloths and were fine with that. It was his style outside of the Spidey suit (sometimes even a hoodie over the suit), ripped jeans and a hoodie with a science t shirt. Tops were larger than his slightly loose jeans, never shorts, always long sleeves or sleeves that went to at least his elbow (which was bony as fuck, god they needed to feed that kid more). He preferred when the sleeves went over his hands - MJ called them sweater paws, which was adorable. He liked plaid jackets and button ups, and sweaters too; sometimes khakis but he hated any type of formal attire.
Classic nerd style, as Stark says.
Except there were some things in his wardrobe that didn’t quite match the NASA hoodies and science puns.
Bucky called it - in his mind - Peter Parker Style.
OoOoO
The first was a faded red oversized old 80s rocker shirt.
It wasn’t super out of the norm for Peter to wear old band shirts like that (he was a nerd like that too, didn’t really like the dubstep or raps that were overplayed by the general youth population. Bucky wasn’t sure exactly what type of music he liked but he generally didn’t like current music and he hates country- with like a burning passion). He’d gotten most of his clothes from thrift shops and pawn stores but there was something a bit...off about it. Bucky couldn’t place it though.
Three days prior, Daredevil had asked him to run investigations for him on Kingpen, who had been ominously silent in the underground world.
It wasn’t unusual for vigilantes and heroes alike to ask Spider-Man to run a dead lead or check up on things in daylight hours for them. The kid loved the ‘dead leads’ they gave them (he loved the favors he got out of it more though).
The harder the lead, the more he wanted to solve them.
Even though that was the case, Peter also tended to run himself into the ground sometimes while trying to solve a ‘impossible case’. And on nights like these were when papers and files and multi colored highlighters were scattered across their counter in the early hours of the morning, and their coffee supply nearly diminished. It almost looked like a teenager studying for a big test instead of a vigilante trying to track down a crime lord (if Bucky daydreamed long enough he could pretend that his child was doing normal teenage things that didn’t give him heart attacks).
Peter never asked to spend the night at Nelson and Murdocks to finish off the case but ended up staying the night there anyway. Natasha gave him an unamused look when he informed her that he may have forgotten the time the next morning. She couldn’t get mad at him because the kid hadn’t slept more than 4 hours in three days, but the oncoming lecture was sure to happen after the kid got at least 8 hours of consecutive sleep.
They paid no mind when he smiled a little at Karen Page’s new article about Wilson Fisk’s secret exploits in money siphoning the next morning.
OoO
Peter didn’t build solely in the lab.
He started to build his inventions more often with Tony, but it wasn’t where he built all the time.
Tony got it really. To each their own style, especially when it came to inventing and fixing up things. Peter was scrappy, he liked fixing things not making new things. He liked to find a solution, not create a new project when one failed. And when he did create a new thing, he liked using old parts that had no use anywhere else.
In a way, it was kind of symbolic to his own life, but Tony knew that might’ve been much darker than what it implies. He just ignored that part and let Peter do his thing.
The kid stumbled in half way into dinner time, mumbling apologies, saying he was fixing up something for a friend named Cable (they assumed one of his vigilantes/contacts/allies. Because vigilantes weren’t friends - which is kinda melodramatic - and not everyone Peter knew in that life was a vigilante but an associate to one).He was in a hoodie with a futuristic looking symbols and patterns on it. It swallowed him up and the sleeves went way pays his fingertips and he had to roll them up a lot. Not only was it too big for him to have bought it, but the design was a bit outrageous. Peter didn’t like to stand out and that hoodie was a bit...flashy.
“Who is Cable?” Tony asked instead of his parents, glancing oddly at the fashion choice much like everyone else. Peter waved vaguely as he sat down.
“Cyborg from the future.” He said as he shoved a bit of chicken that Bruce had made that night into his mouth. “Who can’t keep his damn arm wired right for two seconds.” He iratly grumbled around the food. Tony would’ve chastised his manners, but a.) it wasn’t his job -which Red and Terminator were doing pretty damn well lately, the kid was less of a punk than he used to be - and b.) he doesn’t think he was supposed to hear that.
“Cyborg from the future.” Steve repeated slowly. Peter nodded as if it were normal.
“Yeah, he has like a metal arm and eye and he only knows how to do diagnostics so I… upgrade him sometimes.” Peter poked at his vegetables, his mutt swishing her tail under him awaiting her share that the boy was sure to slip her when eyes were off him.
“You fix other people’s gear too?” Sam asked, almost looking affronted. Peter gave him a deadpan look.
“Only my allies.” He hummed. “I don’t want any fixable issues that I have to take into account when I fight with people” he said in a reasonable tone. But Tony could tell Peter cared about what happened to the people who had his back.
He smiled just a bit and forgot about the futuristic fashion disaster.
OoO
Natasha only got a quick glance.
He’d come in late at night and he stumbled to his room, mumbling an apology for being late to Natasha who was on the couch reading a book. She didn’t seem that bothered but then again it was only 2, and Peter had joined them for dinner that night so it wasn’t anything that hadn’t happened before. Kiska got up to follow her primary caretaker into his room.
He looked worse for wear, which is something that didn’t quite happen as often anymore, but still wasn’t uncommon. Physically drained rather than emotionally.
He came back changed and showered and plopped soundlessly - if not a bit ungracefully - next to Bucky and nuzzled his side slightly into the crook of his arm. Bucky adjusted accordingly as Kiska hopped up and placed her furry head on Peter’s legs.
It wasn’t weird for Peter to leave for patrol and everything seeming fine - because it usually was - and then coming back like he had been through a particularly grueling session of sparring - that was essentially what patrolling was. Tired and clammed up but he didn’t have the energy or will to speak about what happened because it wasn’t big but sometimes it was just a lot. Bucky and Natasha understood that.
The weird thing was, he was wearing a navy NYPD windbreaker instead of a clothed sweatshirt. The one cops wore when on detective business at night or on a windy day or on at stakeouts or busts. The stiching on the left breast spelled ‘Mahoney’.
“Busy night?” Natasha asked and Peter hummed.
“Busted a drug ring with the feds. Sarge is the only reasonable one though, every other one of them is incompetent.” he mumbled a bit childishly as he closed his eyes.
“Really?” Natasha said with a raised brow behind her book and Peter nodded.
“They ask too many obvious questions and all the wrong ones too. Sarge agrees with me, they are too...predictable.” Bucky snorts quietly and Natasha hummed. They didn’t say anything more about it.
Natasha researched everything on Officer Mahoney after Peter drifted off and was carried to bed.
For future reference.
OoO
The next one smelled weird rather than looked weird.
It was one of those rare days where Peter was lazing around, not really doing anything in particular, maybe reading a book or watching a movie or lazily doing insane gymnastics in the living room while baby Nate watched and clapped his hands, until some mischievous idea to terrorize a poor soul popped into his mind. He’d giddily leave the tower in civilian clothes and come back with a smug or proud smile at dinner time and be vague when confronted on where he was or what he was doing.
This time he came back in not his own clothes. It was just a normal oversized hoodie with an outlined picture of Snoopy taking up the front but Bucky could smell the heavy scent of gunpowder, gasoline and beer. It shouldn’t have been weird, but Peter usually never liked to carry a gun (he knew how to use one though, they’ve learned) it wasn’t his style. And he never went into a fire fight with a hoodie, he usually at least some protection (unless it was unexpected but Peter rarely ever went out without the suit or to do some business. It’s been happening more often lately though, he’d go out with his friends or Harley or Shuri to do whatever semi-normal nerdy teenage shit they do). The alcohol wasn’t even the worrying part because he did hang out at kind-of-but-not-really bars on weird hours(they’ve also learned).
Bucky would have mentioned it but Peter came bouncing in with an easy smile - that was becoming more common - saying that he and Frank Castle read to kids at the library, which had him more stunned (not that Frank read to kids but that Peter found out...wait no Peter finding out isn’t that surprising. What is surprising Is that Frank let him… maybe not as surprising as it should be actually, the kid could manipulate anyone in any situation to get what he wanted. Maybe it was just the entire situation that was kinda hard to picture).
“We read Magic Treehouse, you know the first one, with the dinosaurs and Frank got so into it…” Peter blabbered on pleasantly, not noticing the smug smirk coming over Bucky’s lips.
He couldn’t wait to lord it over Castle.
OoO
He probably shouldn’t be amused by this.
Peter had a rather...explosive patrol. An unnecessarily - in Peter’s opinion - explosive patrol. Spiderman had came back covered in soot and a pout on his face.
But the thing that made Harley laugh was the black and white Cheshire sweater that looked way too expensive and feminizing - it was most certainly a woman’s. But honestly, Peter looked like a grumpy puppy from 101 Dalmations. The sleeves were tight fitting and showed off how thin his arms were, but the covered his hands snuggly and the collar was loose showing off more soot smears, minor cuts and bruises.
At least there was no blood...this time.
“Could’ve warned me about the fucking bombs.” He grumbled as he pouted his way over to where the Harley was playing Mario Cart with Cooper on the couch. Cooper was trying - and failing - to contain his laughs too.
“Dude you look like H&M mannequins.” Harley smirked and Peter huffed and crossed his arms as his dog came over from where he was playing with Lucky and licked his face happily.
“Shut the fuck up, I have impeccable style and it’s affordable.” He shot an accusing glance at Harleys Roll X watch but the other boy just shrugged.
“Not my fault you’d rather have a crappy watch from 5 below instead of a nice one that won’t break when you wash your hands. Tony wouldn’t mind…” Harley said unconcerned.
“It’s Batman I don’t need an overpriced accessory when I can have Batman.” Peter said back and huffed, clutching the bulk of fabric on his right wrist where the watch was.
“Yeah but how many times have you had to fix it?” Harley teases with a knowing smile.
“How many Roll X watches have Batman on them?” Peter shot back and Harley shook his head amused handing off his controller to Peter as he took Cooper’s “that’s what I thought.” Peter nodded definitively.
“Still look like Cruella De Vil.” Harley sing songed as he started the next Prix. Peter let out a frustrated sound.
“I don’t control Dom’s wardrobe!”
OoO
He rushed into the common room for dinner just a hair short from being too late.
He stopped behind his chair and put a hand on the back of it as he caught his breath and ignored the irritated and slightly amused looks he was getting from his parents. He was always the last one to dinner, it didn’t seem to bother him though as long as he wasn’t too late. The black windbreaker he was wearing which was kimono style with dragon patterns on it, rode up a bit exposing his red palms and bruised forearms.
“Where were you?” she asked calmly, but using a tone that dared her son to lie. Peter looked down at his hands before looking up again to meet her eyes and smiled sheepishly.
“Training.” he said, he wasn’t lying. He sat down and put a small bite into his mouth “Coleen needed a sparring partner since Danny is off doing RI stuff in London.” he talked casually. Natasha was mildly curious but the small lit in his tone made it politefully clear he wasn’t gonna talk about it further than that.
He doesn’t talk about other vigilantes personal lives unless a passing comment or unless it was completely necessary, the courtesy was extended to him in return. He said it was an unspoken respect among the lot of them.
Natasha wondered if the sharing clothes bit was too.
OoO
He came back at three am and said that he wasn’t patrolling.
Natasha wasn’t inclined to believe him, especially when he collapsed on the couch with a groan that told her that there was an ache deep in his bones. But on closer inspection, he wasn’t the same kind of tired he was when he came back from patrol. The kind of tired that had him breathing a little harder as the adrenaline died down in his system or the nearly ghostly smile of exhilaration or the gore that caked him after a bad job.
He was in a grossly stained band t shirt with god knows what on it and slightly damp hair and smelled like rotting fish and beer.
“Where were you then?” Natasha asked, not really in an interrogating way but a casual, indifferent tone.
“Doing something stupid.” Peter said muffled by the pillow his face was currently smushed into “I swear…” he turned his head to the side and mumbled quietly “Weasel can be just as dumb as Wade.” He nearly whispered and Natasha almost didn’t catch it.
She didn’t ask who Weasel was.
OoO
Bucky started worrying about the people Peter hung out with when Peter came home in a slightly too big leather jacket smelling like booze… again.
He probably should have started worrying long before he knew the kid was his kid. He was a practically homeless, malnourished child who threw himself at danger every chance he got. To be fair, Peter could normally handle himself.
He left for 35 hours straight and when he stumbled in the door, Bucky was there preparing lunch. He raised a brow at the boys messy hair and baggy eyes and rumpled cloths, and he’d normally be worried, because it was obvious the kid hadn’t slept since he left the previous morning, but the kid had a winning smile on his face - one Bucky knew meant something went right.
The older man hid his ghost of a smile - not wanting to encourage the fact that the kid got next to no sleep, even if a job did go right- and Peter day at the counter top.
He hadn’t taken a shower since he left, that much was obvious. The jacket he was wearing also wasn’t exactly his either, which didn’t surprise the former soldier in the slightest. But Peter did reek of booze and Chinese takeout and coffee. But mostly booze.
Bucky frowned a bit.
“What went right?” He asked casually, carefully crafting his words, not wanting the boy to stiffen up and shut him out. They were still in that grey area and Peter tended to pick up every little thing.
“Jess and I solved a case.” He said, smile growing “it was a tough one but we did it. The warehouses near 51st are gonna be hit by the Defenders tonight so…” Peter was being vague but Bucky knew he gave a lot more information than usual. Either he must be very tired or he was warming up to him.
Trusting him.
“You’re not gonna hit it too?” He asked, he only knew so much about the vigilante population. They were odd and secretive and very unpredictable. No two had the same personality.
“Nuh uh.” Peter shook his head almost like a child “I was just helping with the technical part of the case, sometimes I do that.”
“Ah so they just needed to pick your brain.” Bucky smirked and set a plate of steamed dumplings in front of Peter who looked slightly dazed for a minute before a smiled.
“Yeah.” He said looking down with a small genuine smile.
Bucky nearly forgot about his worries seeing it.
OoO
Nights like this happened.
The nights Peter would come back looking years older than he actually was, with heavy bags under his red rimmed blood shot eyes and pale as a ghost. Dazed look that was haunted and screamed guilt. His hair would be messy and posture stiff under the blood stained pale blue scrubs he forgot to take off.
He’d sag onto the couch as Natasha quickly and expertly made room and press his face into her side as silent tears slipped out. Kiska would find her way over and laid her body on half of Peter’s form to cover him in as much of her furry warmth as she possibly could without taking away from Natasha.
The bad nights went like this sometimes. Other times he’d show up with torn clothes and blood everywhere, his blood. Sometimes it was a mixture of both.
She wasn’t sure which one she preferred.
But in these times, the one where he didn’t get hurt that night, it was always full of silent tears and shameful confessions.
“ей было 6 лет“(she was 6.) he mumbled without stuttering but it was quiet and Natasha barley heard it as she stroked his hair. “Били почти до смерти, а потом она выбежала на улицу ... она была так напугана.“(Beaten nearly to death and then she ran into the street… she was so scared.) he paused Natasha knew not to speak, this was Peters time. “Я отвез ее в больницу ... она проснулась ячменем ... она все чувствовала ...“ (I took her to the hospital… she was barely awake… she felt everything…) he choked on a quiet sob “мы не могли, я и Клэр не могли”(we couldn’t- me and Claire couldn’t-).
She didn’t need to be told the rest. She knew the rest, she experienced the rest. And she knew Peter didn’t need to be told ‘these things happen’ or ‘it comes with the job’ like he didn’t already know. Peter knew. Like how she knew, but also in so many different ways.
She didn’t need to say anything
It was on nights like these she knew how to be a mother.
OoO
Peter wasn’t back for ten days and they were worried.
Well they were worried three days in, because Peter would usually contact them - a text or a message or like a e-mail, it really varied on platform (sometimes it was another vigilante and the conversation was awkward everytime that happened - they think Peter sends them because he knows that) - if he was going to be a week or more, and rarely give them a timestamp of when he was going to be back - those also varied. He started doing it more since they got Kiska, because he’d be damned to leave an animal without care, especially his animal.
They started to keep a closer look out for him and held out for seven more days before they finally gave in and ended up in Hell’s Kitchen.
They knocked on Matt Murdock's door and he opened it.
He looked sleepy for blind person and his hair was all messy and unkempt, which was unlike his civilian persona. But one thing stood out:
He was wearing Peter’s hoodie.
“Nice hoodie.” Natasha quirked a brow. She knew Peter was in there, Matt seemed a little more awake by the sound of her voice.
“Huh… oh yeah I think it’s Peter’s.” He said looking down as if he could see, then looked back up and shrugged.
“Why do you have it?” It wasn’t accusing just curious. Matt sighed, letting his shoulders sag in a show of dramatics and exasperation.
“Cuz he stole Wades.” He said like it was obvious.
“I’m sorry?” Bucky blinked, confused and Matt sighed again, this time more irritated.
“He stole Wade’s Canadian Military hoodie, Wade accuses Cable of stealing it but Cable said Dom was more likely to steal it than him, Dom knew Peter stole it but said Weasel stole it then Weasel actually took Castles jacket to prove he didn’t take it, Castle accuses me, we had a fight so I took Peter’s for starting this clusterfuck in the first place.” Matt said, stating the hard cold facts. Bucky blinked again clearly confused, as was Natasha but she didn’t show it “but that was like three years ago but like no one figured it out except for me because Peter told me and Dom had a lucky guess.” he sounded more annoyed by that last part.
“That makes...absolutely no sense.” Natasha whispered disbelievingly. These people were insane.
And Matt looked at them like they were crazy.
So definitely a vigilante thing.