“in which they’re on a cruise”
947 words
ships: implied spideychelle (just a crush), implied pepperony
tw/cw: homesickness (?), water (again, ?)
__
Water.
That's all Peter Parker can see for miles. It's a refreshing change of pace from the busy cityscape of Queens. Instead of falling asleep to the sound of loud tourists, honking cars, and police sirens, he can relax to the sound of the water hitting the hull of the ship and the occasional squawk of a seagull.
The cruise ship itself is an incredible, extravagant thing that Peter would've never found himself on if Tony hadn't offered to take him. And it wasn't that Peter didn't appreciate it, because he did, he really, really did. He just misses May and Ned and MJ.
Tony had originally offered to take May as well, but she declined, saying that it would be a good bonding experience for Peter and his boss/mentor/father figure, Tony Stark.
So Peter found himself here, standing at the deck of the ship as it creates a large amount of ripples while slicing through the water. The sun shines down on his skin, which is already tanned quite a bit from the exposure over the days, and the wind whips through his curly brown hair, tousling it more than it already is.
"Isn't this nice?" A familiar voice snaps Peter out of his trance.
"Yeah," Peter agrees, turning to face Tony, who was carrying two colorful drinks topped with various fruits. "This is— this is really great, Mr. Stark. Seriously, thanks for taking me."
"It's no problem, Pete," he says, handing Peter a glass. "You're the only one I can put up with for more than a day. Other than Pep, and maybe Rhodey."
The billionaire smiles and takes a sip of his drink.
"You should drink some, kid. It's pretty good, by my standards."
"I can't have alcohol, Mr. Stark, I'm sixteen." Peter reminds him, feeling the condensation starting to drip down his fingers.
"I know that, Underoos. I'd never give a minor alcohol. Can't let the public have another reason to hate me," Tony says, letting a lazy grin slide onto his face.
"The public doesn't hate you," Peter reassures him.
"Of course they do. I'm a very successful person, Pete, and people love to hate very successful people. That's the fun of it."
Peter nods and continues looking out on the water, absentmindedly sipping his drink, pleasantly surprised when he tastes notes of strawberry. Tony takes his place beside Peter, his arm coming around the boy's shoulder. Peter tenses up — he still isn't used to receiving affection from his childhood idol — before settling into the warm embrace.
"So," Tony starts abruptly, "What's going on with you?"
Peter's head shoots up. "Hm?"
"You've got this whole angsty, moody, teenager cliché thing going on. What's going on?" Tony asks, his brown eyes filled with concern. "Is it girl problems? Who was that girl you were crushing on? Was it that M—"
"No, Mr. Stark," Peter says as tinges of pink color his cheeks. "It's not about MJ, but I do miss her too."
"Is it that guy who bullies you? Speed or something?"
"It's Flash, and no." Peter looks down, embarrassed about what he wants to admit. "It's just— I miss home, Mr. Stark. I miss May, and Ned, and yes, MJ. I miss Mr. Delmar's sandwiches, and I miss Midtown High. I know this cruise is only two weeks, but I've never been this far from home for this long before."
He stops and looks up at the billionaire, who has an unreadable expression on his face.
"Never mind, it's a stupid feeling, I never should've told you—"
"Kid, stop," Tony says, holding up his hand to cut him off. "I get it."
"You do?" Peter asks, disbelieving.
"Yeah. Believe it or not, I was sixteen once."
"In like, the 1800s," Peter scoffs.
Tony gives him a mock offended look before cracking a smile. "Hey, at least I'm not as ancient as Capsicle."
"Congrats," Peter drawls sarcastically, his hands coming together in a slow clap. "That's a pretty low standard, comparing your age to Mr. Rodgers."
Tony gasps and places a hand on his chest, covering the faint blue light of his arc reactor. "Such disrespect, and from my own kid!"
"Mr. Stark, I'm not your biological child."
"You might as well be," Tony states. "Now, where were we?"
"You were sixteen once," Peter offers.
"Yes, right!" Tony says, and changes his tone to sound more comforting rather than thick with his signature sarcasm. "I got homesick all the time. Hell, I still get homesick. And it's okay, Peter. It doesn't make you ungrateful, or spoiled. It makes you human. You have people back home that you miss, and I do too."
"Really?" The boy asks, his brown eyes wide and hopeful.
"Yes, really," Tony says as he wraps both arms around Peter, planting a soft kiss on the top of his hair. "And hey, if it's really bad, we can always catch a flight back home once we dock in Mykonos."
Peter shakes his head and breaks away from Tony's comforting embrace. "No, we don't have to go, Mr. Stark. I'm really enjoying this cruise, but thanks."
"Are you sure, Underoos? I could book a flight right now, just say the word."
"I'm sure. Just a little homesick, that's all."
"Alright. Well," he says, ruffling Peter's curls, "If you change your mind, let me know, Bambino. I'm here if you need me."
Peter smiles softly at Tony's words. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. Really."
"No problem, kid. It's what I'm here for. Now, how about we go get something at the buffet? I'm starving."
The pair made their way back inside the ship, laughing and joking the whole way back.
fin
a/n: i think that's the second fic in a row that i've ended with the closing dialogue being somewhere along the lines of "let's eat, i'm starving." i guess my headcannon is that tony's always hungry.
anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed this one! it was a bit more on the boring side, since nothing really happened (except for banter about tony's age), but i wrote this one while i was on a cruise, so i projected some of my feelings into peter.
hope you guys enjoyed! stay safe and take care of yourselves for me. make sure to eat enough and drink enough
— cleo xx