Chapter 2
Peter woke up to banging on his door. He checked his watch, it hadn’t even been a full hour.
“Who the fuck?”
The banging didn’t stop. “Open the door or I swear I will break it down, Peter!”
Tony didn’t make empty threats; especially not about breaking down doors.
Peter scrambled to open the door. “Tony?! What’re you- hey!”
Tony pushed his way into the hotel room.
“Did you- how did you get here?” Peter turned to face him, letting the door swing closed behind him.
“I flew here.” Tony looked him up and down.
“In an hour? New York to Tennessee is an almost three-hour trip if you fly non-stop.”
Tony raised a brow. “I’m Iron Man. Now, do me a favor and follow my finger.”
Peter batted at Tony’s hand. “Why?”
“Just do it.” Tony held up his hand.
Peter huffed. “Fine.”
Tony started off slow and then picked up the pace. Peter followed as best he could and he tried to seem overly relieved when Tony said: “Okay.”
“Are we done?”
“No.” He held up his other hand. “Look at my fingers from left to right as fast as you can.”
Peter sighed. “Why?”
“Just humor me.”
Peter took a deep breath and tried.
Left, right, left- blink back the watering in his eyes. Right, left, right- blink, ignore the dizziness.
“Okay, you’re done.”
This time Peter didn’t bother to hide his relief, he was vaguely aware of the way he swayed. “Are you done torturing me, now?”
Tony wrapped an arm around him and led him to the couch. “Where’s your stuff?”
Peter pointed at the table. Most of his stuff was there. He’d given up on attempting to get work done on the bed or couch since he just kept passing out.
“Kid, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“I’m not a kid.”
Tony just sighed in response. Not that Peter was expecting any other kind of response.
“Alright, up we go.”
Peter glared at Tony. “Go where?”
“We’re going to the hospital, Peter.”
“Why? Are you sick?” Peter pushed himself up. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”
Oh, God, he was going to kill another father figure. Round three.
“Peter, deep breath, we’re going for you. Okay?” Tony spoke slowly.
Peter felt his brows pull together. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Do you have a headache?”
“Yeah, but that’s hardly a reason to go to the hospital.”
“Have you been feeling dizzy? Feeling confused or having trouble concentrating recently? More tired than usual?”
Peter blinked at him. “How did you know? Did I tell you that?”
“You’ve got a concussion; probably from when you hit your head.” Tony brushed Peter’s hair out of his face.
Oh, right.
“I’m not going to a hospital. What if they find out I’m Spider-Man?”
“People around here don’t know who Spider-Man is, Pete,” Tony said, “and I own a hospital near here.”
“Why?”
“That’s- we can revisit that later, okay? But, right now we need to get you to the hospital.”
Peter shook his head. “I can already feel myself getting better.”
“That’s great, I’m happy for you, you’re still going.”
Peter grunted. “No!”
“Yes!” Tony inhaled sharply. “I’ve always tried to be accommodating, Pete, I know you don’t like hospitals but this time it’s just non-negotiable.”
“I’ll be fine, plenty of people recover from concussions on their own. Just let it go.”
“No, Peter. I care too much about you to just let it go.”
Peter wanted to argue against it but he really didn’t have the energy for all of that. Still, through all the fog, he felt nauseous at the thought of going to the hospital. Or maybe that was from the dizziness.
It was probably from both, Peter decided.
Tony ran his hand through Peter’s hair.
“You’ll be by my side, right?” Peter asked, “The whole time?”
“The whole time,” Tony assured.
Peter didn’t want to go. But he also didn’t want to fight with Tony anymore. “Okay. Okay, I trust you.”
Tony averted his gaze. “Alright, let me grab your bag and then I’ll help you up.”
Peter didn’t wait for him. “I can walk.”
“Sure.” Tony didn’t look like he believed him. “Just humor me, kid.”
Peter huffed a complaint but didn’t move when Tony wrapped an arm around him.
.
“Oh, no!”
“What?” Tony looked over at him, hand hovering over the gearshift.
“I didn’t say goodbye to Robbie or check out of my room.”
“I’ll take care of it, Pete, don’t worry about any of that.”
Peter sniffed and leaned his head on the window. “Why am I wearing your glasses?”
“So the lights won’t hurt your head,” Tony explained.
“Oh. That was really nice of you. Do you want them back?”
“No, Peter, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Peter, I was the one who put those on you.” When Peter kept looking at him, “Yes, Peter, I’m sure.”
Peter hummed. “Are we still going to get food?”
Tony let out a slow breath. “No, Peter, we’re going to the hospital.”
“We could do a drive-through.”
“Are you hungry?” Tony asked.
“No.” The thought of eating made his stomach churn.
“Then why are we talking about food?”
“Because you need to eat. You probably haven’t eaten all day.”
“I had a granola bar earlier.”
Peter clicked his tongue. “That’s not enough.”
“I’m fine, Peter. Right now, we’re worried about you.”
“No, you’re worried about me. I’m worried about you.”
“Why are you worried about me? I’m not the one with a concussion.”
“I’m always worried about you, Tony. Just like I’m always worried about Aunt May,” Peter added for no real reason.
“Well, you don’t need to.”
Peter just snorted.
.
“Are we sure this is necessary?” Peter tried to plant his feet and stop them, but Tony kept walking, dragging Peter beside him.
“Yes, Peter. This is very necessary.”
The emergency room was kind of full. The lady at the desk greeted them. “What’s going on tonight?”
“I hit my head a few days ago and he thinks I might have a concussion.” Peter pointed a finger in Tony’s direction.
“You tripped a few days ago?”
“Yeah.”
She asked a few more questions that Peter answered. His name, date of birth, and whether he had insurance or not.
“Just fill this paper out for me, okay? When you’re done, come bring it up.”
Tony looked like he wanted to say something.
“Okay, thanks.” Peter dragged Tony to a seat away from people before the man could argue.
“And here I thought head injuries were important.”
“Shush.” Peter knocked Tony’s foot with his own. “If I was fine for two days, then I can be fine for two hours.”
“Two hours?!” Tony whispered.
Peter shrugged. “This was your idea.”
Tony blew out a breath. “There’s no way it will take two hours.”
“It might but it probably won’t. Depends on availability. Besides, they can’t see me until I do this paperwork.”
Tony peered over his shoulder. “Do you need help?”
“No, I need you to stop complaining and let me focus.” It was hard enough without Tony running his mouth.
It was basic information, at least. Peter filled out the information with little issue, vaguely aware of how Tony peered over his shoulder every now and then.
It wasn’t until he got to the emergency contact portion that he froze. He peeked up at Tony, who was scrolling through an article— let your child do light physical activity, like taking short walks, during their recovery.
Peter scribbled down the information, only briefly hesitating at the relationship box.
“Are you done?” Tony asked.
Father.
“Yep.” Peter stood before Tony could and walked the form over. He let himself feel a little proud that he’d managed to hide it from Tony.
When he returned, Tony greeted him with: “I could have done that.”
“Of course, you could have. But now I’m checked in and have a bracelet.” Peter showed the man his wrist.
Tony didn’t look happy. “How’s your head?”
Peter shrugged. “Still hurts. It’s pretty bright and smells really strong here, so that’s fun. But I feel less…confused?”
Tony nodded.
Peter was content to let that conversation fade. “Sorry for dragging you here.”
“Weren’t you just preaching the opposite to the lady at the desk?” Tony joked.
Peter forced his eyes open. “Doesn’t it bother you how needy I am?”
Tony scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed. “Peter, that’s what I was trying to say earlier, I was just doing a really bad job at it.”
Peter tilted his head at the man.
“You’ve helped me so much in these past few years, Peter. Even though I’m sure I’ve given you more than enough reasons to hate me, you don’t. At least I don’t think you do.”
“I could never.”
Tony faltered as his eyes flickered away. “Do you ever feel annoyed when I reach out? Do you feel bothered when I show up at your apartment at some random hour without explanation?”
Peter shook his head. “No, never. You know my door’s always open for you.”
“It’s the same for me,” Tony said. “I know I’m not good at all of this but I’m here for you. I’m here because I want to be, and I know that I haven’t always been the best at showing that but I promise it’s true.”
Peter looked away from him, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I don’t like relying on people. It’s…terrifying to put that much trust in someone.”
Tony didn’t respond.
“I don’t…I don’t want to seem weak.”
“Peter,” Tony started, “you’re one of the strongest people I know.”
Peter snorted and shook his head. “Shut up.”
“I’m not kidding. I feel like every time I turn around, you’re going through a villain origin story.”
Peter hated that he was laughing.
“Seriously, Peter, it’s one of the things I admire most about you. No matter what happens, you always seem to get back up.”
Peter clenched his jaw and pressed his hands into his palms. It was one thing to cry in private or around his family, and another entirely to cry in public. Sure, everybody else was in their own world and paying them no mind, but still.
“I don’t want to lose you, Tony. You’re my best friend, you know?”
“That’s…kind of depressing. Ow!” Tony yelped when Peter smacked him.
“Obviously, I’m not your best friend-”
“Hey, no! I never said that.”
“You implied it.”
“No, you assumed it. There’s a difference. Here, I’ll even send a message to Rhodey, I’ll tell him he’s been dethroned and the spot is yours, okay?”
Peter was saved from replying by one of the nurses calling his name.
.
“I’m not loving this,” Peter said.
“Me neither, buddy.” Tony’s eyes were glued to the monitor. “You know, I’ll never get over how slow your heart is.”
“That just means it’s efficient, Tony.” Peter’s eyes drifted to the monitor. Seemed normal enough.
“I feel like your heart is beating faster than normal,” Tony stated.
“It is,” Peter agreed. “I don’t want to be here. Being here is actively causing me stress.”
Tony cracked his knuckles. “I know, kid. I hate that you’re here, too.”
Peter clasped his hands together and looked out the window. It was mostly dark outside, aside from the headlights and streetlights on the road.
Behind him, he heard Tony stand up. A moment later, he felt the bed dip beside him.
After a minute of nothing: “What?”
Tony had the audacity to look startled. “What do you mean?”
“What do you want to say? Spit it out.”
“I- nothing!”
“No, it’s something.” Peter narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I’ve just been thinking about what you said; what you’ve been saying.”
Peter’s heart dropped.
“Why are you worried about losing me? What’s happened for that idea to come into your head?”
Peter looked away. “I don’t know.”
“Peter, be honest with me,” Tony started.
“You first.” Peter had no idea it would come out that heated.
Tony paused. His heart rate sped up and Peter could tell that he was growing tense.
“Sorry,” Peter muttered, “I didn’t…mean for it to sound like that.”
“All good, kid.” Tony patted his knee. “We can talk about this later, okay?”
Peter didn’t want to. He wanted this topic to drop altogether. He wanted things to go back to the way they were.
“Okay.”
Tony slid off the bed when there was a knock on the door.
.
So far, the visit was going well.
Peter did, in fact, have a concussion. But that was news to exactly no one.
Peter ignored Tony’s ‘I told you so’ look. A look that Tony swears he didn’t have on, but Peter wasn’t an idiot.
It wasn’t until the nurse came in with the discharge paperwork that it went off the rails.
“And it says here that he is your father, is that correct?”
Peter ignored Tony’s eyes on him. “Yes.”
“Now it says here that you live independently, is this correct?”
“He does, but I’ll be staying with him until he’s recovered,” Tony said.
The nurse nodded. “Okay. I will make a note of that.”
Most of the discharge instructions went in one ear and out the other for Peter. The only thing he could focus on was the way Tony had looked at him.
.
Despite feeling steadier on his feet, Tony still helped him into the seat.
“How did you get a car? Where did you get a car?” Peter questioned.
“I’m Tony Stark, that’s how,” Tony answered.
Peter nodded to himself and picked at the hem of his shirt.
A long moment passed.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“I feel like you are.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Peter leaned against the window. “Are you uncomfortable?”
Tony sighed.
Peter thought it was kind of odd for Tony to be acting like this. Hadn't this been what Tony wanted? For Peter to be his kid?
“We’re not having this discussion right now,” Tony said, his grip on the wheel tightening.
Peter tilted his head to look at Tony. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just wanted to make sure they let you in the room.”
It was almost the truth. Mostly the truth, really.
Tony let one hand slip off the wheel. “I know, kid, it just caught me off-guard, that's it. I'm not mad, alright?”
“Alright,” Peter echoed, feeling hollow.
He wished he knew what was going on inside Tony's head. Because he knew it wasn't alright, he knew Tony was acting off. He just didn't know why.
Maybe Tony was having second thoughts. Maybe this whole thing opened his eyes to who Peter really was. Maybe—
Peter was brought out of his thoughts by Tony squeezing his shoulder. “Peter?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if you were hungry,” Tony repeated.
No. Yes. Maybe.
Peter was kind of hungry, he knew he should eat. But at the same time, he didn’t know if he was going to be able to keep anything down.
“What about some fries?” Tony suggested. “Do you think you could keep that down?”
Peter traced the window control buttons.
“Peter?”
“Hm?”
“The fries?”
“Oh.” Peter pried his eyes open. “Are you going to get something, too?”
Tony looked like he was holding back something, probably a sigh or equally disgruntled noise. “Yeah, I’ll get something, too.”
“Okay. Me too, then.”
-
“You know, sometimes I forget that you’re a billionaire.” Peter tapped his fingers against the window. “Well, I don’t forget but it slips my mind just how much power you have. I sound stupid.”
“You’re not stupid nor do you sound stupid.” Tony’s shoulders cracked as he rolled them.
Peter slumped and stretched to prop his legs up on the chair across from him. Peter waited for some kind of remark— sarcastic or serious. But it never came.
Tony was still looking at him, though he looked like his mind was elsewhere.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“You’ve lost weight,” Tony answered, his face still unreadable.
“Have I?” Peter shrugged. “Oh well.”
“No, Peter, not oh well.”
“Tony, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Tony insisted, “you’ve lost way too much weight in such a short span of time.”
“I’ll gain it back and the nurse said I was fine! She even said I was on the heavier side!” Peter argued.
“That’s because your body composition is all muscle with hardly any fat. And if muscles weigh more than fat, then yeah, you’re going to have a few extra pounds on the scale.”
Peter didn’t really have the energy to continue the conversation. “Hmm, okay.”
Tony continued ranting, “And, you know, I think I know my- friend better than she does.”
You should have said it. Peter bit back the words. Now was not the time to have that conversation. That is if the conversation should even happen; Peter was still on the fence about that one.
“But that’s not important right now,” Tony muttered.
“Then what is?” Peter asked for no particular reason
“You getting your feet off my seat, for starters.” To emphasize his point, Tony kicked Peter’s calf.
“That’s not your seat, though. Your seat is right here,” Peter pointed at him, “next to me.”
“This is my plane, therefore, all of these seats are mine.”
The position was beginning to hurt his lower back anyway. “Fine.” Peter straightened back up in his chair. He managed to sit upright for all of five minutes, maybe, before his head collided with the window.
He hadn’t even realized he’d been leaning.
Tony glanced away from his tablet. “Ouch.”
“You did this to me.”
“What?! How was that my fault? I didn’t push you.”
“If you hadn’t made me move, then this wouldn’t have happened. Therefore, it’s your fault.”
“How was I supposed to know you were going to lean that way?”
“Well, which way did you want me to lean? Forward?” Peter gestured to the floor in front of him.
“You could lean backward.”
“I was trying to! But then you told me to get my feet off your seat.”
“That was different. You are perfectly capable of leaning back without putting your feet on my seat.”
“Whatever,” Peter said because he didn’t have a better come-back. “I’m not even tired.”
Tony laughed at him.
“What?!”
“You fell asleep three times on the way here, two of which were with food in your mouth.” Before Peter could say anything: “And the only reason it’s three and not higher is because I didn’t wake you the third time.”
“I don’t remember that,” Peter dismissed.
“That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“If you say so.”
Tony looked at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “Just go to sleep, Peter. You’re cranky when you’re tired.”
“I don’t get cranky, I’m not a kid.”
“Sure thing, kid.” Tony went back to tapping on his tablet.
Peter leaned his head back against the chair.
It was funny how when other people called him kid, it was an instant trigger. On the better days, he was able to ignore the irritation, the indignation at the condescension— intentional or not, that’s what it felt like. On the other days, most days, that word was a fighting word.
But, here was Tony. Calling him a kid to his face while poking fun at him. And all Peter felt was fondness and affection for the man.
“I’m such a stupid idiot,” Peter muttered.
How had he not realized? Tony got all the same permissions as Aunt May.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t just call me an idiot.”
“No. Me.”
“Didn’t we just go over this? You’re not an idiot.”
Peter shook his head. “No, no. I am.”
Seeing Tony turn off his tablet, Peter patted the man’s knee. “But that’s not for you to worry about. You just, uh, keep it up. You know? Doing what you do best: being smart and kind and, yeah.” Peter finished his reassuring monologue with a thumbs-up and a very convincing smile.
Tony did not look reassured or convinced.
“...Right.” Tony wrapped an arm around him, pulling Peter until his head was resting on his shoulder. “Get some sleep, kid. You very clearly need it.”
Peter huffed but didn’t disagree.
Tony’s shoulder wasn’t the most comfortable surface he’d ever laid on. But the man was warm and smelled like safety— plus, the occasional sweep of Tony’s thumb against his shoulder didn’t hurt.
~
“Peter.”
“What?” Peter forced himself to pull away from Tony.
“We’re here. Come on, let’s get you some food and in a real bed.” Tony held out a hand to help him up.
Not that Peter needed the help, but he wasn’t going to reject Tony’s outstretched hand.
While they walked, Peter noticed Tony tapping away at his phone instead of his tablet. Peter glanced at the screen, it looked like he was texting someone. He didn’t read the messages or the contact, it wasn’t any of his business, after all. And he wouldn’t want Tony to do that to him.
Tony glanced up from his phone. “Just to double-check, you’re good with staying with me for a few days? Okay, perfect.”
Peter recoiled. “What? Double-check, when was the first check?” Peter asked.
“In the room with the nurse, when she said I or someone should stay with you for a few days.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Tony, I’m fine. I’m tired and my head still feels a little weird, but I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t…doubt that,” Tony said, carefully, “but I just think it would be better for everyone if you just stayed where I could-”
“Are you worried I’m going to fall again? That was a one-time thing! Just a mishap while trying to traverse an unfamiliar environment in the dark while half-asleep!”
“Peter.” Tony paused outside of the car to give him a look.
This wasn’t good.
“Why are you so against staying with me?”
“I’m not against staying with you, I’m just saying that it’s unnecessary.”
“Is it?” Tony asked rhetorically.
“Yes,” Peter insisted as he slid into the car to get out of eye contact. “It’s already been a few days.”
“The average time to recover is two weeks, Pete.”
“And I’m enhanced, so that’s the equivalent of-”
“No, Peter, we don’t know that. It’s one thing if it’s a stab wound where we can visually monitor it for signs of infection and another thing entirely when it’s your brain, kid.”
“They did scans of my brain, remember? It looks fine. What’re you worried about?”
“You, Peter! I’m worried about you.”
“Why? I can take care of myself!”
“Can you?” Tony asked, shooting him a very pointed look, “Because it seems to me like you can’t.”
Peter clenched his jaw and willed back the burning in his eyes.
Tony either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“You look like shit, Peter. You’ve been looking worse but I guess it didn’t really hit me until now. You’ve lost weight, you’re pale, you’ve got circles under your eyes, and now you’re concussed because you tripped. You, mister insane reflexes, tripped and didn’t catch yourself?”
Peter wanted to think it was the first one, but it could have been the second option. Or maybe it was some secret third option.
“You’ve been acting differently recently, too and I’m- Pete, there’s a lot of red flags I can’t ignore.”
Peter went hot. “So, what? Do you think I’m on drugs?”
“Peter, I know that you’re not, that’s not what I’m saying.”
Peter would have felt relief. “What do you mean you know?”
Tony didn’t respond for a moment. “Peter, it’s not unusual for hospitals to test for drugs on admission,” Tony kept talking but Peter tuned him out.
“You did, though,” Peter pointed out, forcing his voice to come out steady. “You did think that though. That’s why you looked.”
“No, that’s not what happened.” Came Tony’s immediate denial.
“Then what did?”
“I was just looking at the labs,” Tony tried to explain.
“Oh, because you’re so interested in biology suddenly? You don’t even know what eosinophils are!”
“They’re part of the immune system.”
“That was a lucky guess.”
Tony shot him a look. “Peter, you’re right: I’m not interested in biology. I’m interested in you. You’ve been struggling recently, don’t try to tell me you haven’t been, and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t because of your electrolytes or some shit.”
“So you asked the nurse?”
“No, I hacked into the system.”
Peter felt his eyes widen. “Tony.”
“I didn’t look at anyone else’s! Just yours.”
“Tony, that doesn’t matter! You didn’t even need to do that, you have access to my medical records! All you had to do was ask,” Peter explained.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”
“You ask, Tony! That’s all you need to do, just ask! If not the nurse, then ask me and I’ll tell them to let you see!”
“You just got mad at me for looking at your labs, though.”
“No, I was hurt because I thought you didn’t trust me or believe me.”
“I do, Peter, I swear I do.” Tony looked over at him. “Peter, none of this has to do with trust, okay?”
“I feel like it does.” Peter shrugged and looked away from Tony. “You don’t trust me to take care of myself.”
Tony didn’t deny it.
“See? You’re not denying it because you know it’s true.”
“I know you can take care of yourself,” Tony said.
“Not what you said earlier.”
“I just think that right now, you might benefit from some help.” It was obvious that Tony was carefully choosing his words.
“I don’t need help. I don’t need you, so don’t- I can’t-” Peter sighed and hung his head. “You don’t have to do this, Tony.”
“Do what? Take you home?”
Peter was going to resort to violence soon.
“You don’t have to take care of me.”
Tony groaned. “Peter, how many times are we going to have this conversation? I like taking care of you, I like helping you, and, more importantly, I like you getting better.”
“You can’t honestly enjoy this.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
Peter shook his head. He didn’t know why he was putting up such a fight. Wasn’t this what he wanted? For Tony to take care of him? So why was he trying to push him away?
“Enjoy what, Peter?” Tony poked him and then poked him again. And again. And—
“Ugh.” Peter pushed his hand away. “All of this!”
Tony sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I could have done without the waiting in the ER, true. But-”
“Don’t play games with me, Stark! You know what I meant. Do you really want me to stick around for multiple days after how I’ve been acting all day today?”
Tony thought about it. “Yep. Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Why? What is wrong with you?”
“Why do you hang around me?” Tony asked instead. “You and I both know my shitty moments outweigh yours.”
“That’s not true.”
Tony snorted. “Yeah, Pete, yeah it is.”
“Well, I don’t think so.”
Tony parked in front of the apartment building. “Yeah, well, I don’t care what you think.” As Tony climbed out of the car, “See? I’m just horrible to you.”
Peter sat in the car a moment longer, putting his head in his hands. “Really, Parker? This is the guy you choose to be your father figure?”
Tony tapped incessantly on the car window. “This is your apartment, kid, let’s go. Time’s ticking.”
Peter unbuckled his seatbelt. “I guess I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Have what any other way?”
Peter put his hand on the man’s face, nudging the man out of his space. “You.”
Tony stepped out of Peter’s reach. “I can’t tell if you mean that in a mean way or a nice way.”
“I mean it in a nice way, of course.” Peter thinks that counts as nice.
“I don't believe you.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.” Peter paused at the door. “Isn't the elevator broken?”
“Nah, they fixed it.”
Peter was certain Tony had something to do with that. “Funny how it gets fixed after I complain to you about it.”
“Absolutely hilarious,” Tony agreed as he mashed the close door button on the elevator.
Tony caught Peter looking at him. “What?”
“Do you wanna push it one more time?” Peter nodded at the button.
Tony held his gaze while he pushed the button again.
“And they call me a menace,” Peter said loud enough for Tony to hear him.
.
Peter hadn't registered how much he'd missed his apartment until he was standing inside of it. It was still shitty but it was his and familiar.
“I'm never doing that again,” Peter promised himself. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony, “I don't know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Business trips.”
“Well, for starters, I don't hit my head, no matter how much I want to.”
“Low blow, man.” Peter was in the process of tucking away the few articles of clothes he hadn't worn. “Huh.”
“What?” Tony called from somewhere else in the apartment.
Peter felt his brows pull together as he grabbed his journal.
“What?” Tony repeated when he entered the room.
Peter could have sworn he left this at the bottom of the drawer. He remembered tucking it away, close to the bottom of the drawer.
“I thought I put this away,” Peter answered Tony, holding up the journal. “I usually put it under my clothes so that it's not in my way but also safe from prying eyes.”
Tony hummed and started emptying the rest of his bag.
“Maybe I took it out and don't remember?” Peter guessed, even though that didn't make a lot of sense to him.
“I wouldn't worry about it, kid,” Tony dismissed, “I could have moved it when I was grabbing your suit and just forgot.”
Peter chewed on his lip. “Maybe.” He tucked the journal back into the drawer.
Thankfully, all thoughts of the journal were pushed aside as Peter flopped on his bed. “Oh, bed, how I’ve missed you.” Peter’s bed was made the exact way that he liked it with his pillows and blankets.
“I’m just going to ignore the fact that you were happier to see your bed than me.”
Peter shifted his head so it was no longer buried in the pillow. “My bed didn’t bang on my hotel room door and threaten to break it down.”
“That wasn’t my fault, I was panicking.”
Peter stretched out and burrowed deeper into the blankets. “Sure.”
Peter heard Tony messing with things around the room. Sometimes he was able to figure out what Tony was doing, like plugging in Peter’s phone or laptop. Other times he wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t bother trying to figure it out.
Peter waited until he heard Tony kick the bag under the bed to push himself up. “Are you going to join me?” He patted the empty side next to him with a hopeful smile.
Tony smiled back at him. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve got work to do; I don’t have time to sleep.”
“What about a quick nap?” Peter tried.
“Sorry, kid.” Tony shook his head at him.
Peter considered complaining some more, but he’d taken up enough of Tony’s time. Peter had Tony’s attention at the hotel, the hospital, and during the car rides. And when Tony wasn’t paying attention to him, then he was looking up stuff about concussions because of him.
“Alright,” Peter conceded, “go do your thing.”
Tony’s face flickered with something as if he was suddenly second-guessing himself.
Peter sighed. “Tony, I’m not a child. I’ll be fine. Just close the door on your way out, yeah?” He made a waving motion with his hand.
“So you’re kicking me out?” Tony asked as he walked closer to the bed for some reason.
Peter flopped back onto the bed, fussing with the blanket for a moment before closing his eyes. “Yep. You and I both know it’s more comfortable to work on the couch.”
Peter suppressed the urge to startle when Tony brushed a few stray hairs out of his face. “Seriously, are you growing your hair out? I won’t judge.”
“Maybe I am.” He wasn’t. “Do you think it’ll look good?”
Tony hummed like he was considering it. “Yeah, I think you’d look fine with it a bit longer. But I don’t think it’d be the best idea with your mask.”
“This is true,” Peter agreed. He was already getting frustrated at his hair because of his mask. But it wasn’t like he could just not wear the mask, right?
Peter didn’t want to continue that line of thought. “I’m going to sleep, now.”
Tony lingered by the bed for a moment longer. He swept the same persistent strand of hair out of the way, this time he let his fingers brush across the spot— the spot where the bruise was.
The bruise was mostly healed; the bruise was a faded yellow-brown color. At least it was the last time Peter had looked at it.
Peter wasn’t sure how long Tony lingered before he removed his hand. “Night, kid.”
-
When Peter woke up, this time of his own accord, he felt a lot better. Judging by the light beginning to shine in where the curtains weren’t pulled together, he guessed he’d slept for a few hours.
Peter was relieved when he checked his phone to see it was only a quarter past ten. “Not bad.” He stretched as he heaved himself out of bed; a shower really wouldn’t hurt. But he’d deal with that after food. And coffee.
As Peter passed the couch, he wasn’t too surprised to see Tony sprawled on it. One arm over his eyes and the other hanging off the couch. At least his tablet had made it onto the table before he’d passed out.
Peter ducked back into his room to grab Tony’s favorite blanket and plug in the man’s tablet. The man wouldn’t admit it, but Peter noticed it was always the first one Tony grabbed when given the opportunity.
As he passed the man, he threw the blanket over him.
Truthfully, Peter lost himself in the easy rhythm of putting on a pot of coffee, choking down a granola bar to stave off the hunger while he showered. It wasn’t until he opened his fridge that he remembered he hadn’t been grocery shopping in a while and had just been gone for a week.
“This is fine,” Peter said to himself. He scrolled on his phone for a few moments, passing by multiple recipes that he knew he didn’t have the stuff for before settling on pancakes.
By some stroke of luck, he’d managed to have butter— the one ingredient he’d been worried about not having.
Peter needed to go shopping. As he shoved another pancake into his mouth, he wondered if he could just leave now. Maybe he could just write a note?
No, Peter realized, it’d be just his luck that the second he left the apartment, that’s when Tony would wake up to an empty apartment. And the whole thing would probably end in an argument of some kind. Maybe.
It was better to play it safe than sorry.
“What should I do?” Peter didn’t have a shift for a few days, he didn’t have any new photos to edit, and he’d decided to not take any courses over the break.
Peter wandered into his room. He skimmed the pile of books he had tucked out of the way, none of them really caught his eye, though. He should read them sometime, but not right now.
He didn't feel brave enough to reattempt Sudoku, so that was out of the question.
Peter rummaged through his closet for a moment. He thinks he might have some yarn that he could knit. A simple task that didn't take much thought or effort.
Or, Peter eyed the hook at the bottom of the box, he could try to crochet. Maybe he'd do a blanket? Sue him, Peter liked blankets.
.
Peter thought he’d made good progress by the time he heard Tony begin to stir on the couch in the other room.
Peter glanced at the clock by his bed. He would have had enough time to run to the store. Oh, well. No point in dwelling on what could have been.
“I thought you didn’t like mint toothpaste?” Tony asked, leaning on the doorway.
“I don’t, but BOGO is very convincing.”
“What?”
“Buy one get one,” Peter explained, then nodded to the tablet. “I plugged that in for you.”
“Thank you. You’re too good to me.” Tony sprawled on his bed, narrowly avoiding the blanket.
“Careful!” Peter moved the fabric further away.
“What’re you making?”
“A blanket.”
Tony raised a brow. “You don’t have enough?”
Peter looked up from where he was inserting the hook into a chain. “I knew you were going to say some shit like that.”
Tony laughed at him as he inspected the project. “How long have you been awake?”
“I dunno.” Peter shrugged. “A few hours.”
“You could have woken me up, you know.”
“Nah.” Now at an appropriate stopping point, Peter set down the hook. “I figured you could use the sleep.” Peter rubbed Tony’s shoulder.
“What’re you doing now?”
Peter stilled his hand. “I’m being nice to you; is that not allowed anymore?”
“I didn’t say you had to stop, I was just curious!”
Peter huffed and resumed his petting. “Sometimes, Tony, it’s better to stay curious.”
With his hand on Tony’s shoulder, he could feel the way his muscles tensed before relaxing. “Yeah. So, when are we leaving?”
“Leaving?” Peter questioned. “Leaving where?”
Tony raised his brow at him. “To go to the tower?”
“Why do we need to go to the tower?”
“So I can keep an eye on you while you recover.”
“But I am recovered. Look at me, I made myself breakfast and everything.”
“What’d you have?”
“Pancakes. They were pretty good considering I had no milk or eggs.”
“And you didn’t make any for me?”
“You were asleep.”
“I see how it is.”
“Oh, don’t be that way, Tony.”
“Zero out of ten experience, would not recommend.”
Peter squeezed Tony’s shoulder before removing his hand. “Shut up and go get some coffee while it’s still hot or at least fairly warm.”
Those were the magic words to get Tony up. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll be back to talk about lunch,” Tony said.
Peter couldn’t deny that lunch sounded good, right now, and a nap. “I swear I’ve never slept this much in my life.”
“You’ve barely even slept, what are you on about?” Tony yelled from the kitchen.
Peter felt his face scrunch. “Did you get hearing aids while I was gone?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“You know damn well what it means! I could yell to you from six feet away, and you wouldn’t hear me. But I mutter under my breath and suddenly your hearing becomes exceptional?”
Tony appeared in the doorway. “That was not under your breath, you announced that.”
“No, I didn’t. I was talking to myself.”
“Talk quieter if you don’t want me to hear,” Tony suggested as he gulped down the coffee.
Peter rolled his eyes.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me!” Tony pointed a finger at him in a warning with his brows raised.
It reminded him of his Aunt May. A classic move.
“Or what?” Peter challenged, “What are you going to do about it?”
Tony swiped something off the nightstand and grinned at him. “Well, you know what they say: revenge is best served cold.”
Peter raised a brow and tilted his head. “Huh?”
And then a pencil was hurled at him. “Ah!”
Tony laughed. “Oh, and what did you say? Next time I’ll throw my fucking fist, right?”
“I- no! I didn’t say that.”
“Oh, yes, you did.”
Peter shook his head. “Well, I didn’t say it like that.”
“No, you were a lot more aggressive.”
Peter opened his mouth and then closed it as he thought. “I wouldn’t have actually done it,” he tried.
Tony raised his brows in a silent question of really?
“I was a different person back then,” Peter defended, “besides, I didn’t and I won’t.”
“Knock on wood.” Tony rapped his knuckle on the doorframe.
Peter clicked his tongue. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair. “Now get some clothes on, we’re going to grab food and then to the tower.”
“I thought I said no,” Peter reminded.
“It’ll be like a sleepover, Rhodey and I will take turns braiding your hair.”
Peter hated that it made him laugh. “Shut up.” And then, because Peter was bad at saying no to Tony. “Fine. But I reserve the right to leave whenever I want.”
Tony sighed. “I’ll take it.”
.
Peter didn’t know why he was surprised when Tony immediately tried to drag him to the med-bay. “Are we serious, right now? I already went to the hospital!”
“One more check wouldn’t hurt!” Tony had tried to argue.
“Tony, I am fine! I will walk out that door, mister, do not play with me.”
After that, Tony reluctantly let it go.
“Don’t you have work to do?” Peter pointed out.
.
Eventually, Tony stopped turning and looking over his shoulder at Peter every fifteen minutes. Instead, he let himself get absorbed into his work and actually be productive.
While Tony focused on upgrades and playing with prototypes, Peter focused on crocheting his blanket.
Peter was starting to loathe it. Tony’s being productive and Peter is crocheting a blanket? A blanket he doesn’t even need.
“What’re you working on?” Peter wandered over to Tony’s side.
“Just some SI stuff.” Tony held up the schematics. “The team sent up some designs and so I’m looking them over before giving them the go-ahead.”
“Can I look?”
Tony wasn’t exactly frowning, but it was close to it. It was his I’m going to tell you no, but I don’t want to face.
“Seriously?”
“They said to avoid anything involving intense thinking until recovered.”
“I am recovered, Tony. I’ve got enhanced healing, remember?” Peter pointed out.
Tony dragged a hand down his face. “Alright. If you’re sure that you’re fine.”
Peter perked up.
“Then, it’s time we had a discussion.”
“Huh? Discussion about what?”
“You and your behavior.”
“On second thought,” Peter lifted his hand to his head, “I feel kind of faint. We should postpone that talk.”
“Which is it, Peter, you’re either well or you're not?”
Like a bandaid.
“Okay, fine. Let’s get through this.”
Tony rolled his eyes and led them over to the couch. It was Tony’s couch, covered in Peter’s blankets. It was common ground, the one part of the lab that belonged neither to Peter nor Tony specifically.
Neither of them talked for a solid minute.
“Well?” Peter tried.
“Wells are for wishing.”
“You wanted to have this talk, Tony, you take the lead.” Peter was buying time and he knew it.
“Okay, fine.” Tony fidgeted with his watch. “Peter, I know that there’s something going on but I don’t know what. I don’t know if it has something to do with me or if it’s something else, but I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with me.”
Peter raked a hand through his hair. There was no point in hiding or deflecting. Peter gets the feeling that if he did that, all it would do is ruin things between them further.
“It’s a lot of things, but, yeah. I guess in a way you’re involved.” Before Tony could say anything, “Because just like you know there’s something going on with me, I know there’s something going on with you and it’s about me.”
There was a subtle shift in Tony’s expression. His heart rate and breath increased, they shifted.
“You talk about how you want me to trust you, but do you trust me?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Then trust that I’m not going to—”
“I read your journal,” Tony interrupted.
“-run,” Peter paused. His heart started pounding and he felt cold. “What did you just say?”
“I just wanted to know what was wrong!”
Peter scrambled off the couch.
Tony shifted like he wanted to stand, but didn’t. “You've been acting weird and I know it's my fault but I don't know what I did and I don't want to lose you.”
The words went in one ear and out the other.
Peter shook his head. “No.”
“Peter, I’m so sorry.”
Peter didn’t look back as he fled from the lab.