Chapter 6
“Mr. Stark, um, Aunt May, why is Tony Stark in the living room?” He was slightly fan boying, even he could admit. The wavering of his voice and high pitch tone probably gave it away.
Stark seemed slightly pressed at being ignored and answered instead, “I am here Mr. Parker about the grant, you know, I thought it was about time we met - emails were not cutting it anymore.” The extremely subtle movement of Stark’s eyebrows pressured him in to hesitantly agreeing. “I figured we needed to talk a little more personally about the September Foundation and what you would do with the grant.”
Peter had no clue what was going on. He guessed they were speaking in some kind of code, but it seemed Stark had forgotten to pass on the translation beforehand. Nonetheless, he followed Stark's lead, hoping to pinpoint why he was here. “Yeah, yeah the September Foundation, I forgot but nevermind.” It wasn't exactly credible, there was no way anyone could forget about doing something like that but May bought it.
When he started flirting with May, Peter quickly put a stop to it by proposing more questions. He knew Stark's reputation and even if he tried not making assumptions based on rumors, there was no way in hell he was letting that happen. It did the trick, directing the attention away from May and back onto Peter and he couldn't help but inwardly sigh in relief. Or at least until May agreed to give Stark five minutes alone with him.Sometimes she was a little too kind.
He wasn't one to point out his frustrations though so instead just smiled awkwardly as he led Tony Stark into his room, hoping beyond belief that he had remembered to make his bed in the morning. The bed was made, but it didn't seem to endear stark too much to his room if Peter could read the slight disdain on his face correctly; he could.
Stark got over it quickly however and quickly threw Peter a press fake smile, the fact that it looked natural to him made Peter pity Stark slightly. The media can’t have been all kind to Stark. From what he had studied, Peter could say that it was almost always the opposite. It wasn't time for an evaluation, though, so he focused his attention back on Stark's eyes before taking an awkward seat on the edge of his bed.
“So, I- Uh, well I definitely didn’t apply for any sort of grant.” It was said with a little bit of hope, maybe it actually was a mistake and Stark didn’t really know anything about Spiderman.
A quick flash of Spiderman on a holographic screen from Stark’s phone washed away any sense of hope that he may have still had. In all honesty he almost missed Spiderman on the screen, too enraptured by the fact that it was on a hologram. When it did finally process his head snapped up and instantly excuses were being thrown at Stark, “That's on youtube right? Those things are all faked.” The excuse was pathetic, and he regretted the fact that he had not kept up with things like this in his time away. He had gotten comfortable with lying being easy; he should have known Stark wouldn't be the same.
For all that, the man humored him a minute, citing examples of times that had occurred. It was confusing until he grabbed an old baseball bat and pushed up the loose ceiling tile, effectively releasing his suit from its hiding space. Peter practically pounced to rehide it but when he turned it was obvious Stark had seen it. Peter resigned himself to whatever would come next.
“You're the Spiderling, crime fighting spider. You’re Spiderboy.”
“Spiderman.” Peter knew it sounded petulant, but he knew Stark was trying to get a rise out of him. He wouldn't have come all this way without at least that information and more. Stark’s reply made him slightly angry as well, not everyone can be billionaires.
“Not in that onesie you're not.”
“It is not a onesie.” Why Stark thought he had the right to judge, Peter didn't know. For some reason Peter decided to rant about his now ruined day. He was aware that Stark wouldn't care, but it felt nice to believe he was instilling a little guilt onto him. Until he interrupted, asking who manufactured his webbing. It was an awkward question, but Peter told the truth in the end after a little contemplation, “It’s biological.”
Stark froze and slowly turned to look at Peter, gaze wondering between his face and wrists. He didn't seem grossed out and hasn't started calling him names at least. In the years with Winter, he had gotten comfortable with himself and he would be damned if Stark did anything to reset that. He met Stark's stare with a challenging look, “I don't care what you're thinking, if it's bad then keep it to yourself.”
Peter could hear how his voice had gone cold, daring Stark to disregard the order. He didn't seem inclined to, but Peter was cautious, if Stark wanted he could try to use it against him, could try manipulating him with his insecurities. Stark must have realised it but still kept his mouth closed, seemingly contemplating what to do with this information.
When he did speak, the words were careful, like ones you would use with a wounded animal, “I don't think anything bad about you. I swear. Well, as long as you're shooting them out your wrists.” The first sentence was serious, but the second was more to lighten the mood. It was still cautious, maybe in case that wasn't true but it did the trick. Peter bestowed onto Stark a small smile and nod which he returned.
Stark was more cautious when asking how he could stick to walls but secure in the knowledge he wouldn’t be judged — at least not openly — Peter explained, “It's some sort of attraction, I’m not sure. I have minuscule hooks covering my body, though. It took me a while to stop sticking to everything, but I got it in the end.” he had in fact got it very quickly, Hydra didn't take well to their new experiment sticking to all the equipment and guards.
All he received was a nod of his head from Stark. It made him respect him more than he did before. He didn't need false compliments from someone that might as well be a stranger. Winter would probably like him to.
“Anyway, that onesie” He looked at it once more with apparent dislike, “You're in need of a major upgrade, systemic, top to bottom, one hundred point restoration.” Peter didn't reply, not sure what was expected of him. It didn't seem to need an answer as Stark was quick to continue with an actual question, “Why? Why do you get up each day and decide to do this?”
That question required some thought. He suspected that Stark had some slightly skewed morals but probably not skewed enough for him not to be disgusted. The truth was out of the question, very few would comprehend how it helped satiate his murderous tendencies. Telling him it was to repent for his sins also wouldn't work, Stark would be too curious as to what they were. He settled on a half-truth that would probably satisfy him, “My uncle, he, uh, he always said that with great power comes great responsibility and it's true. When you can do the things I can but don't then it's your fault those things happen.” He concluded it with a shrug of his shoulders and directed his gaze away.
“You wanna help out the little guy, make the world a better place?” It was more a statement that a question but Peter still nodded. Stark copied it and moved to sit next to him, the hand he placed on Peter's shoulder made him jolt slightly but he stayed still. He thought that would be it but then Stark said something that set him on edge, “You got a passport?” Peter didn't even have time to answer before he was carrying on, “Ever been to Germany?” He actually waited for Peter to shake his head this time before simply stating, “You’ll love it.”
“Uh, what?” Peter really wasn't sure what was going on. “I can't go to Germany.”
“Why?”
“I got homework.” Not only was that completely unbelievable but it was said half-heartedly as well. He really shouldn't, doing anything with Tony Stark was sure to bring him attention that he didn't need.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn't say that.” It was probably for the best if he did, he knew he would end up agreeing eventually but he still felt like he had to defend himself.
“No, seriously I can’t!” The excuses got more pathetic as he repeated multiple variations of the same thing. When Stark brought May into it,though, Peter was quick to forget all protests, webbing Stark's hand to the door. “Don't tell Aunt May.”
Stark looked surprised, obviously he had not comprehended his full abilities with his research. “Okay, okay Spiderman.” Peter would say Stark looked somewhat proud. It quickly dissipated from his face when Peter continued staring, “Get this off.”
Peter was quick to comply, afterwards following Stark out to May. They used the excuse that there was a science convention in another state, May didn't bother to check, just happy that Peter was. Stark did most of the talking, giving him plenty of time to think of what he was actually going to be doing. He reckoned it involved the Accords in some capacity.
Peter wasn't too sure what to think of that. He had heard of them of course, but only through his classmates because of his promise to stay away from the media. They were meant to be some way of controlling heroes but Peter wasn't sure how far that went. He also knew that Stark was all for them though he suspected more out of guilt than anything else.
It was difficult not to respect the Accords just a bit. Heroes do need a little monitoring at least, the Avengers especially shouldn't be able to do whatever they wanted without consequences. From what he knew, Stark was the only one that had to pay reparations, it makes sense from the standpoint that he was the richest in the team but it's not as if others didn't have ways to support. Captain America could have made the rebuilding easier at least.
Though to be honest, Peter didn't care. If they went too far for him then he would be upset, sure, but if worse came to worst he was sure he could find another way to get his fix. He may even try seeking Winter out.
It was with this thought process that he was picked up the next day. The car was sleek and so obviously out of place that Peter had to question Stark’s perspective of subtly. He got in anyway when the man Stark had described poked his head out the window and got in.
The silence was somewhat tortuous, so he decided to try to make conversation. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker.” The driver stared at him for a moment in the mirror — it made the levels of awkwardness rise rapidly — but Peter held his gaze.
Soon enough the man turned back around, barking out a disgruntled, “Happy.’ before putting the decision up between them.
Peter couldn't help but snicker at the irony.