two player game

did you kill eminem?

While in the car with Quentin and Wade, Peter had become increasingly uncomfortable with their flirting.
It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to them, just that he wasn't used to the attention - especially not from guys like them.
He'd opted to sit quietly, save for a few uncontrollable whines, when they'd touch him, or say something especially flustering, rather than responding, despite Tony's constant reminders of what he was supposed to be doing.

Needless to say, they'd talked, once Peter was home.

"Peter, you can't just listen, do you understand? You have to obey. You could really fuck yourself over, disobeying me like that, you know?"
"But I--"
"Peter," the squip warned, and Peter's mouth snapped shut at that.
"Good," he sighed. "Repeat after me, now, okay?"
Tony, surprisingly gently, pushed Peter backwards to have him sit on his bed, looking down at him, and adjusting his glasses thoughtfully.
"Everything about you is so terrible."
"I- I can't-"
"Peter."
The boy swallowed thickly.
"Everything about me is just terrible," he repeated shakily, looking down at his feet.
"Good. Look at me."
Peter hesitantly obliged, looking up at the squip with now watery, hooded eyes.
"Everything about you makes me wanna die."
"E- everything about me makes me wanna die," he uttered, afterwards choking on an upcoming sob.
"You've got it."
Tony smiled all too sweetly, patting his host's shoulder approvingly.
"But soon you'll see, if you listen to me, everything about you is going to be /wonderful./ You won't feel left out, or unsure, you won't have to worry about /anything./ Don't you want that, Peter?"
"I- yeah, of course, but-"
"Come on, wouldn't it be worth anything to live like that?"
"I don't know, I guess, maybe-"
"Everything about you is going to be cool. You'll be powerful, and popular, and confident. You will--"
"--Be more chill! I mean- chill..."

Later that night, after quite a while of doing nothing but thinking, Peter lie atop his bed, grinning giddily.
"I'm-- I'm gonna be... Super chill."
Tony's lips curled into a sideways smirk, and he chuckled, pulling Peter's covers up over his shoulders.
"Alright. Sleep well, slugger. You've got a big day ahead of you, tomorrow."

The next morning, Peter jolted awake, into a sitting position.
"I-- did that--"
He allowed himself a moment to think, before tapping at his temple.
"Hellooo? Are you on? Helloooooo??"

"Are you talking to yourself?" Came May's voice, and Peter turned to see her standing in his bedroom doorway, shrugging.
"I... Guess I am? Huh."
When May turned to leave, Peter reminded her to shut the door, reaching beside his bed for his laptop, when she did.

"Come on... Come--"
A particularly painful shock to his left hand had him dropping his laptop with a yelp, only to groan in exasperation, when the pain had worn off.
"What the hell?"
"What did we say about masturbation, Peter?"
"I was just going to... To check my email."
"You can't lie to me, Peter, I'm inside your brain. We're going to devise a system. Everytime you think about sex, that's how many push-ups you'll do. If this morning is an indicative sample, you should have pecs in no time. By the way, wear that Eminem shirt, today."
"Come on, please just--"

"Coming through, Petey."
"That's the source of your genetic material?"
"Well, she's my aunt--"
"Maybe you won't need those push-ups, after all."

"Hey, faggot! Where's my money?"
"Shit, what do I tell Flash?"
"Up up down down left right A."
Flash jolted.
"Hey, man, are you oka--"
"You got one!" He beamed.
"I-- yeah. Sorry, I- I meant to go through you, but-- please don't hit me!"
"Peter, this is awesome! I mean- I could've used the money, things are pretty rough at home, but-"
"I- my...aunt drinks, too?"
Where did that come from?
Eugene grinned.
"Hey, fuckin' parents, right? My mom usually passes out by nine. You should come over, play X-box, you know with a squip, the only controller you need is your mind?"