Truth and Laughter
Peter sat in his room at the Stark Tower, fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie, the fabric slipping between his fingers in a rhythmic pattern. His heart pounded, louder than the noise of New York City outside, as if it were building up for the hardest conversation of his life.
For months, Peter had been thinking about how to tell Tony, but the words always seemed to slip away, lost in the shuffle of saving the world or working on a new project in the lab. But tonight was different. Tonight, he had finally decided. He couldn’t keep it in anymore.
He found Tony in the lab, tinkering with one of his Iron Man gauntlets, music blasting in the background. Peter stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him work, his mouth suddenly dry. But Tony noticed him right away, as he always did.
“Hey, kid,” Tony greeted, adjusting his glasses. “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Peter swallowed, stepping into the lab. His hands fidgeted again, his fingers tapping nervously against his leg. “Um, Mr. Stark? Can I—can I talk to you? Like, really talk?”
Tony put the gauntlet down, sensing something serious. He turned his chair to face Peter fully, his expression softening. “Of course, Pete. What’s on your mind?”
Peter hesitated, the words he had rehearsed so many times now tangled in his throat. He hated this part—the not knowing how to say something, the fear of saying it wrong. But Tony was watching him patiently, not rushing him, and that made it a little easier.
“I…I’ve been doing a lot of research,” Peter began slowly. “About me. About why I am the way I am. And, um… I think—I mean, I know that I’m autistic. I got diagnosed last Sunday.”
He paused, his gaze dropping to the floor, waiting for the reaction. He had no idea what Tony would say. Would he be disappointed? Would he think Peter was less capable somehow? Peter’s chest tightened at the thought.
But instead of the long pause Peter expected, Tony chuckled. Not a mocking laugh, but a genuine, light-hearted one.
Peter blinked, confused. “What’s so funny?”
Tony stood up, still smiling as he crossed the room toward Peter. “Kid, I already knew that.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “Wait… what? You knew?”
“Of course, I knew,” Tony said with a shrug. “I’m a genius, remember? I’ve seen how you are in certain situations, how you process things differently. Hell, half the time, it’s one of the reasons you’re such a great scientist. The way you hyperfocus on things, how you notice details that most people miss—it’s kind of your superpower, aside from the actual superpowers.”
Peter’s head spun as he tried to process this new information. “But… why didn’t you say anything?”
Tony placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, his expression softening. “Because I didn’t want to put a label on you unless you were ready for it, unless you figured it out yourself. I wanted you to come to me when you were ready, like you are now. And look at you, figuring it out all on your own. I’m proud of you, kid. Especially for being brave enough to go to that appointment and do that whole process yourself.”
Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had spent so long worrying about how Tony would react, but seeing that Tony had known all along was an incredible weight off his shoulders. The best part? Tony knowing didn't seem to change a thing.
“So… you’re not mad? Or disappointed?” Peter asked, still feeling like he had to double-check.
Tony laughed again, this time pulling Peter into a brief, but solid hug. “Mad? Why would I be mad? You’re still you, Pete. ASD or not, you’re one of the smartest, most capable people I know. This doesn’t change a damn thing between us.”
Peter smiled, the tension in his chest finally loosening. For the first time in a while, he felt heard. Really, truly heard.
“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, his voice quieter now, but filled with gratitude.
Tony gave him a small smile. “Anytime, kid. Now, if you want, we can dive into the neurodiversity discussion. Or, we can go blow something up in the lab. Your call.”
Peter laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Blowing something up sounds pretty good right about now.”
And with that, they dove into their usual rhythm, the conversation hanging between them like a bridge of understanding—stronger now than ever before.