MCU One Shots

To say Peter humiliates himself in front of his mentor often wouldn't be a stretch. As much as he tries to avoid this there's always been some cosmic force which pulled Peter into sticky situations.

Perhaps it would have been wiser for Peter to take in his surrounding. If only he'd remembered that crucial detail, he wouldn't be scaling the side of the Avengers Tower, nostril filled with glue, fingers stuck together.

Peter's digits curl (as best as they can) around the window to Mr. Stark's lab. Never had the whipping blares of ACDC sounded so sweet to hyper enhanced ears. Mr. Stark took the music's lowering volume as his cue to snap out of whatever scientific trance he'd delved into.

"Friday?"

"Spiderling appears to be climbing through the east window." Friday chirped, sounding all too amused for a program.

Tony sighed, hunching over his desk once again. "What now Underoos? It's a school night. If Aunt Hottie--"

The boy dropped from the ceiling, only to lose his balance, sending his stiff limbs crashing into DUM-E. The robot anxiously whirred at him.

Mr. Stark spun around to peer down with intrigue at the normally super-humanly coordinated boy.

"Alright color me interested, Pete." The man stood from his seat to help Peter from his spot on the floor. His eyes flitted over his protégé, searching for any real damage.

Peter stared back at the lab ceiling in despair. Maybe if he inhaled enough glue he wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

"That mask isn't going to buffer any of the embarrassment glowering over you right now."

"Mr. Stark, I think I've known you long enough to ask you for a favor that I, personally, think is like super easy and not that big a deal." Peter took Stark's silence as the cue to continue. "When I tell you what I did will you please promise not to laugh at me."

"That doesn't sound likely." The corner of Stark's lips lift ever so slightly as Peter glares back. (It's not like Mr. Stark could see him anyway.)

"Mr. Stark! This was totally not even my fault this time so you can't even--"

"Spill."

The arachnid's hands came up to shield his eyes, before muttering,"I may or may not have the suit glued to me."

Hands part to show the billionaire looming over him, grinning with his hands extended to help his mentee up.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I am not! Not even a little bit." The boy gripped the hand his grinning mentor offered, coming to his feet. "So how do you go about getting assaulted by glue, Mr. Parker?

"Some guy was robbing the hardware store." The boy murmured, hoping his lowering volume would equate to less humiliation. Spoiler alert: it doesn't.

"And this outcome never crossed your mind?"

"Look, normally I'd go to Aunt May for stuff like this but they changed her shift at work," Peter's turned his head towards anything but Mr. Stark. "And Ned's at his Grandma's house."

Mr. Stark's eyes lingered on the boy for a second, eyebrows knitting together. Despite the twinge of concern on his face, he continued his teasing japes. "Glad to know I'm your last resort."

"Oh I didn't mean-- I just didn't want to bother you cause I know you're super busy and stuff."

"Aha! So you do know when you're bothering me!"

Peter's beginning to think MJ would have made less fun of him. The boy kicked at floor while simultaneously kicking himself internally. How is he supposed to prove he could eventually be an Avenger when all Mr. Stark gets to see is his screw ups? His visits always seem to bring him down a peg. If only Mr. Stark saw him when he does cool stuff like stopping the Queens Stalker.

Peter continued to fidget under the man's gaze, pondering what he thought of the situation.

"Here." Mr. Stark's said the word so tenderly, it had Peter's eyes snapping up instantly. His mentor held out a bottle of solution, some unrecognizable glint in his eyes. A smile still graced his lips but one Peter had never seen before. It wasn't loud and dazzling. It's crooked and small but most importantly, sincere. Its mere presence caused his pride to swell and briefly constrict his lungs.

Peter stuttered as he grabbed the solution, still reeling from Mr. Stark's sudden change in attitude. "What-- what is this?"

"Acetone." His simper vanished, and his indifferent tone returned, but that glimmer never abandoned his eyes. "The only thing that actually takes industrial strength glue off your skin."

Peter didn't have to ask if Mr. Stark knew that from experience.

"Uh." Peter trailed off, presenting his now completely cemented hands.

"Parker." The genius grumbled, summoning Peter closer.

The boy pressed the spider sprawled across his chest, but the suit only partially deflated.

"Turn."

Peter spun around like an obedient show dog and mentally came to the conclusion that Tony Stark will never ever think he's cool.

His mentor tugged at the cloth by the nape of his neck.

"Ow!"

"Sorry kid, but maybe if you stopped fidgeting, this would go a little smoother." Mr. Stark played no mind to the man who walked into the room.

Although Peter knew the genius often ignored people, he had a feeling Mr. Stark genuinely hadn't noticed the visitor. "Uh, Mr. Stark."

"What? What'd I do now? Or did I hurt you again--"

"Mr. Stark."

Colonel Rhodes gaping quickly morphed into clenched fists and furrowed brows. The next words that escaped his mouth were not at all something Peter would've guessed in a thousand years.

"How could you do this to Pepper?"

Peter instantly caught on to what the colonel was implying and attempted to distance himself from the man currently positioned behind him. Mr. Stark either didn't understand or (more likely) didn't care about what conclusions Colonel Rhodes drew up about the situation.

"Um. Colonel Rhodes, sir. This isn't- Mr. Stark is just--

"'Mr. Stark'?" Colonel Rhodes scoffed, not hearing any of it for a second. "What kind of power complex--"

Mr. Stark continued to pay his friend no mind while Peter lost his goddamn mind. "Don't worry, kid, Rhodey takes a little more time than us."

Instead of dwelling on the fact that his mentor included Peter in some intellectual league with himself, both his jaw and suit fell flat to the floor. An acetone induced 'splat' followed by uncomfortably long, silent stares filled the room.

"Well, this is awkward." Peter mumbled at the ceiling, where he stood, in his underwear, next to his idol and a man he's never formally met.

Mr. Stark burst out laughing, and Peter possibly felt another tinge of pride flow through him. The billionaire finally stepped back before positing, "I'm not so sure acetone is on Pepper's list of 'Approved Substances to Apply to Ones Face'. We either start ripping or you rock the Spidey mask for the rest of your life."

Peter piped up, bubbling with anxiety at his lack of formal greeting for Colonel Rhodes. (May raised him better than this!) But Mr. Stark had unspokenly deemed the action unnecessary. "There has to be something else that removes glue. May's never letting me come back if you rip my eyebrows off."

"Olive oil." Colonel Rhodes sounded still somewhat in a daze. "Olive oil loosens glue. There's some in the kitchen." He threw a thumb over his shoulder before wandering off.

"And that is why I keep you around, Honey bear!" Mr. Stark called after his friend.

The boy groaned, a grimace settling on his face. "Now I'm using your oil. I can do the rest at home. Really--"

Colonel Rhodes strolled back in, eyes less glassy and his stare less blank now. "As if he'd let you go home like that. With the things he does for you, I thought you were an incompetent toddler," He tossed the oil, and Peter's quick hands instinctively reach out to catch it.

The boy cringed at the slick lubricant Mr. Stark began dumping over his head and down his spine.

"But apparently Tony is just a da--" Rhodes didn't get to finish his sentence because Mr. Stark tugged at the mask.

"Ow!"

Mr. Stark bristled with faux remorse. "Right. Right. You'd like to keep your singular mustache hair."

"Jesus, how old is this kid, Tony?" Colonel Rhodes screwed up his face, nose crinkling with displeasure.

Mr. Stark wheeled himself away on his chair, shoulders rising up to his ears. "I don't know, I didn't carbon date him."

"Fifteen- I'm fifteen. Peter Parker, Sir." The teen extended a hand while shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Uncle Rhodey." A smug smirk spread, mischief bleeding into his expression.

"Don't be putting ideas into the kid's head." Mr. Stark grumbled.

"I've been waiting some time to meet you. Tony hasn't let me near you. Or anyone else for that matter."

Peter sputtered, his eyes rounding like saucers."Meet me? Oh wow, Mr. Rhodes, sir, it's an honor. But you're the person to meet you're like War Machine tha-that's--"

"Don't worry kid. I'm not Tony, you don't have to kiss my ass for me to like you."

Peter's face screwed up comically at this. He can admit he gets a little carried away in his idolizing, but, he feels, it's sufficiently deserved. Mr. Stark and Rhodey are important people who have saved the world!

"Oh, it's not a show." The billionaire wiped his hands clean, some warmth seeping into his tone. "You should have seen him when he met Pepper."

Rhodey found this very amusing. He stepped back, calculating eyes darting over Mr. Stark's latest project. "Barton's gonna have a field day with you."

"The kid's not getting anywhere near the spy twins for as long as possible." Mr. Stark began with such vigor that it only caused Rhodey's grin to widen.

"Mr. Stark." How was Peter supposed to become an Avenger one day if Mr. Stark wouldn't even let him near them?

"You're not ready." The older man spun around on his chair with his lips twisted in annoyance as if tasting something bitter. "You know you had been doing so well with sticking to your lane, then Rhodey shows up, and you're Mr. Bigshot."

"Hey now--" Rhodey extended his hands to placate the two children.

"I just want--"

"Not yet!"

Peter didn't understand why Mr. Stark didn't trust him. A month ago, he was willing to let Peter live with the Avengers, and yet... Peter's blood simmered slightly with a rage he only got with his mentor. A heat that only occurred when Mr. Stark was, well, being himself and acting irrationally.

He clenched his fists. He would not lash out. He'd say something he'd regret, and then his "internship" would be taken away again. Mr. Stark would grow distant again. And Peter really enjoyed spending his Friday afternoons here. He really likes Mr. Stark, well, most of the time, anyway. It seemed like he'd almost gotten close enough for Mr. Stark to do the unthinkable: care about him. Clearly, this isn't the case.

"I should go." Peter sighed, anger morphing into a hollow emptiness.

"Yeah, maybe you should." His mentor's voice went low like when he's trying not to shout.

Peter had forgotten a crucial detail: Mr. Stark is his mentor, just that. He's not Peter's friend or anything more, for that matter. Just because Peter is determined to slither his way into his life doesn't mean Mr. Stark is willing to look the other way and let him.

Now Peter feels really, really stupid.

A pang of sadness embedded itself into the boy's chest. Before he could scramble out the door with what's left of his dignity, Rhodey extended a hand to stop him.

The colonel scanned Peter up and down before asking, "You gonna put clothes on first or?"