“I’m totally going to be recording you,” Tony teased.
“Please, Tony, I beg that you don’t...”
“C’mon Petey, it’ll be fun. Don’t you wanna be the star of one of those little YouTube videos you’re always showing me? Imagine all the weird things your fifteen-year-old brain will say when there’s no filter in place?” Tony grinned, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s curly hair. “Plus, blackmail. I love you Pete, but you’re a little shit.”
“Please,” Peter groaned, head in his hands. Tony watched with interest as the boy bared his teeth at the rear-view mirror. “They don’t hurt, why do they have to come out?”
“They’re pushing your other teeth together,” Tony reminded, even though he knew the boy knew why, “it’s too crowded in your mouth. And you and I both know that the top right is infected, so don’t try that with me, Kiddo.”
“No, it’s okay. It doesn’t hurt!” Peter promised, “look, I can even poke it!” Peter did just that, masking the flinch of pain to the best of his abilities.
“Pete, this is happening,” Tony narrowed his eyes at his boy as he pulled into the dentist office parking lot. “Your healing factor won’t work if the problem’s staying in there. Like a knife wound won’t heal if there’s still a literal knife there.”
“I can take it though,” Peter puffed his chest out, “a little pain never bothered me.”
“Oh, I know you can,” Tony nodded sharply, “but the thing is, Petey, you don’t have too.”
Tony watched as Peter deflated, frown present and mood quickly souring. “C’mon, Kiddo, your appointment’s in five minutes and we have to get you checked in.” Tony patted Peter’s shoulder fondly, before snaking a hand down to click the button of Peter’s seat belt since he was sure the pouting teen was in a spiteful mood.
“Please Tony?” Peter tried one final time, eyes wide and pained with his bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
“Aww,” Tony tilted his head, pointing easily to Peter’s door, “out.” Peter huffed a breath, but pulled the door handle, pushing it open. The boy paused, turning to glance at Tony, but the older man simply smirked, “don’t make me get the Iron Man suit and carry you in.”
“Fine.” Peter’s scowl instantly replaced his innocent pout. “That would’ve worked on Pepper.”
“Pff, no doubt,” Tony laughed, watching Peter get out the car before doing the same himself and leading the younger boy into the building by a calming hand in between Peter’s shoulder blades.
“Peter Parker?” the receptionist smiled, voice friendly as the two stopped in front of the large desk, “right on time,” she continued after a quick nod from Tony. “Come, let me lead you into the room your surgery will be done in.”
The two followed behind the woman, Peter’s face growing gradually more panicked.
“Please, Tony,” Peter begged quietly, hand grabbing Tony’s sleeve. “I don’t feel good.”
“It’s all nerves, Buddy,” Tony smiled in sympathy. Tony knew of Peter’s fear of the dentist; and well, surgery in general. Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder, pulling the smaller body into his own.
Tony was thankful that the nurse left them quickly when they reached the room, so he could gently settle his anxious teen into the chair.
“Atta boy, Kiddo,” Tony praised as Peter lowered himself carefully into the crinkling plastic chair. “Now, I know your metabolism won’t let the anesthetic work for very long, so I have some of those modified super kid metabolism pain relief tablets. Same as with your arm, they’ll work to slow your healing down for a bit. We can’t have you healing as they’re removing your wisdom teeth.” Tony explained, pulling a pill bottle from his suit jacket pocket, popping the cap off with ease and shaking one of the small white tablets into his palm.
Peter took the small pill into his hand, giving Tony a kicked puppy look.
“It won’t be that bad. Ibuprofen and everything will work again for you, the anesthetic will work and last long enough for the surgery to finish, and your healing will come back in like twenty-four hours at most. You’ll be a regular non-superhuman person.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair. “Let me tell you, Kiddo, it would hurt like a bitch if you woke up in the middle of the surgery. I don’t want that happening to you.”
“Okay, Tony.” Peter mumbled, popping the pill in his mouth and swallowing it dry just as a nurse came in. Tony slid the pill bottle back into his pocket and smirked at the nurse, walls up and mask on.
“I’m just going to hook you up to an IV,” she told Peter swabbing his arm with antiseptic and proceeding to put in the IV.
Peter gulped when this nurse left as well, informing them that the dentist would be in shortly to do the procedure.
“Relax, Kiddo,” Tony mumbled, leaning over to press a light supportive kiss on top of his kid’s head. “I’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll get you some ice cream, and soup, and... uh- oh, jeez, I don’t know. They’ll give me a list, I hope.” That got a laugh from the boy.
Tony remained by his kid as the dentist came in, explained the procedure to the two of them. They both already knew, but humored the dentist anyways. Shortly after, Tony stepped aside as the anesthesiologist came in. Tony carded his fingers through the boy’s hair in support as he watched as Peter’s eyes fluttered shut after counting backwards from ten (he got to four).
Tony didn’t stick around for them actually doing the surgery, not sure his heart could take someone cutting pieces of Peter out of his mouth. It had to be done, but that didn’t mean he’d like it.
Tony decided that he would wait in his car rather than under the ogling eyes of the other waiting room occupants. The receptionist promised to come and get him when Peter was out of surgery.
Tony scrolled through his tablet, reading and answering some of the emails Pepper forwarded to him, and wanted him to look over. When he grew bored of that, he played around with his settings.
“Friday, Hun, I’d like to set up a recording through these glasses, also in the car camera. On Petey. Only if he starts doing anything worthy though- no, actually record Peter whenever he comes into frame. I’ll watch back and see what’s good later.” Tony smirked. He had warned Peter this would be happening.
“Yes, Boss.” The AI responded.
It wasn’t much later that the receptionist walked out, small smile on her face as she waved through the passenger’s side window.
“Mister Stark, Peter’s procedure went as planned and he’s currently being set up in a wait room so we can monitor him for a while before we release him to your care.” She explained when Tony stepped out of the car, “he’s still asleep, but he should be coming out of the anesthetic pretty soon, if you want to see him?”
“Yes, please take me to him.” Tony nodded, voice firm. He followed behind the woman, into the building, and then into another room that he hadn’t been into before.
Peter was curled into a ball in the chair. A blanket covering him. His face was already swelling up, and Tony huffed a breath of sympathy for the boy.
“The surgery went well. Everything came out as it should. Peter keeps curling into a ball though, we usually like to have people straight for easy blood flow, but he wasn’t having it.”
Tony gave the dentist a hum of acknowledgement, before moving closer to run his fingers through his kid’s hair.
“We’ll just need to keep him in here for about half an hour to monitor, and make sure he’s coming out of the anesthetic alright and then he’s free to go. We have a list of foods he can have, as well as some basic rules for him to follow, such as no drinking from straws and nothing too hot.”
“Mi’ser S’ark,” Peter called, voice low and eyes barely focusing, “I... I’ve been attacked, help...” The boy had both sides of his mouth packed with gauze, and his cheeks were puffed out in both swelling and fullness. It didn’t do much to affect the boy’s words though- or maybe the billionaire was just used to understanding the boy through his Spider-Man mask.
The billionaire muffled his laughter in what could only be a sorry attempt at clearing his throat.
“Hi, Peter, do you remember where you are?” the doctor questioned. Tony watched as the boy dragged his tired eyes from himself to the dentist sitting on a little stood beside the chair. Peter gave a short shake of his head, hair falling into his eyes, “you’re at New York Dental Office and you just had your wisdom teeth removed.”
The boy’s eyes went comically wide and he turned to the billionaire, “t-they took my wizdumb, Mi’ser S’ark!” His voice was rough as he attempted to whisper, but the boy was almost yelling. “Imma be dumb now!” Peter now had tears in his eyes.
“Shh, you’re alright. I assure you, you’ve still got just as much wisdom as what you came in with,” the billionaire stepped closer to the teen, brushing his hair from his eyes. Peter leaned into the touch, and away from the dentist as he tried to reach out and check the IV in Peter’s arm.
“No! Stranger d-danger, bad!” Peter pointed an accusatory finger at the dentist and the man only smiled.
“Pete, shh, Peter, stop fighting him,” and then the billionaire was laughing, “he’s not a stranger.”
“It’s alright, Mister Stark,” the dentist said with a small smile, “this is completely normal. The anesthetic affects each individual differently, and this isn’t the first time someone’s brought up stranger danger.”
“Bad guy,” Peter huffed, rolling his head to look at the billionaire, “wanna go home, t-they're being mean to me.”
“A bit longer, buddy.” the billionaire said with a small smile, petting Peter’s hair back, “they just have to look after you a little longer.”
For the remainder of their dentist visit, Peter blinked his eyes, glancing around the office like something was going to jump out at him. The dentist gave Tony the list he’d promised, as well as briefed him on how to take care of the boy and gave him a prescription for medication.
Finally, when it was time to leave, Peter was transferred into wheelchair, a nurse pushed him out. The teen kept a suspicious eye trained on the woman, hand reaching out to grasp the billionaire’s.
“Do you mind helping me load him into the car?” the billionaire questioned, pulling open the passenger’s side door of the most modest car the billionaire owned- per Peter’s request.
When Peter’s eyes settled on the car, he stared for a moment before he turned back to the nurse, giving her a blood outlined grin, “this is my dad’s car.”
Tony choked on his own spit, coughing lightly. The nurse beamed at Peter, then tilted her head with a sly smile to the billionaire.
“Your dad’s got a nice car,” she commented, helping Peter stand up from the wheelchair.
“Yeah, my dad’s got, he’s got lots of nice things.” Peter’s head lulled in Tony’s direction and he too received a grin. “I think they took my tongue, Mi-sser Stark.”
“You’ve still got your tongue,” Tony snorted. “Up you get, Kiddo.”
Tony took Peter’s arm and helped him stand up. Peter wobbled a bit on his unsteady feet before he all but flopped onto the passenger’s seat. Peter grinned; eyes hazy as he followed everyone’s movements. The nurse helped Peter sort his legs out, while Tony leaned over Peter to buckle him in.
“He’s been bleeding a bit, which is quite normal, but it’s slowed significantly over the past half an hour. That said, discharge is still normal, so you may want to swap the gauze out in about a half an hour.” The nurse set a brown paper bag Tony hadn’t noticed earlier in the cup holder just out of Peter’s reach. “He should start coming out of the anesthetic gradually, and sleep is the most efficient way for the body to do that.”
“Got it,” Tony nodded, looking Peter over quickly before closing the door (after double checking all his limbs and body parts were safely out of the way). “Thank you.”
“Please call the clinic if you have any questions or concerns. If bleeding persists, bring him back.”
“I wanna gooo now,” Peter’s hoarse voice called from in the car. He poked experimentally at his cheek, then puckered his lips as he moved to stick his finger in his mouth.
“Keep that finger out of your mouth, Peter Parker,” Tony scolded through the door, to which Peter’s arms fell into his lap with a crestfallen look.
The billionaire laughed, and the nurse gave a small smile.
“I’d better get him home,” Tony said as a way of ending the conversation. He’d call if he needed help, but he had the list from the dentist, and he had Pepper who was probably better at this then he was.
Tony get into the driver’s seat, glancing at Peter whose head was lulling to the side. “Tired, Buddy?”
“Mm,” Peter hummed as his eyes blinked shut, “no-pe!” Peter laughed to himself as his eyes opened again. “Wanna go home now,” he repeated.
“We’ve got to stop at a drug store first. One of us needs some medication.”
“Wha-ta you need meds for, Ton-ey?”
Tony laughed the boy’s intense look of concentration directed at himself, then responded with a quiet, “teeth, Kiddo.”
“Oh,” Peter tilted his head, “I... I uh, I need some of that too, I think.”
“Sure, Bud. We can get you some too.”
“I want...” Peter drawled after Tony had pulled the car from his parking spot. Tony glanced towards Peter, who was staring off into space. “I want a... a... um, a...”
Tony laughed to himself, and Peter looked offended, like an irritated chipmunk.
“I want...” Peter seemed to keep himself distracted with whatever he wanted, as Tony pulled the car into a parking spot at a convenient store pharmacy. He’d called ahead to order Peter’s medications so, they should be almost ready, if not already ready.
“Petey,” Tony called the boys attention. Peter lulled his head to Tony’s side of the car, hazy eyes looking past Tony’s head, “I have to go in here, you good to stay in the car?”
“Yeaaa” Peter drew out, “I’m... I can stay right here.” Peter patted his own lap, looking irritated with the feel of his sweatpants. “Gonna, gonna take a nap.”
“Okay,” Tony laughed. “You take these,” he handed Peter his sunglasses, just knowing the boy would do something weird when left to his own account. The teenager was quick to slip them onto his own face, nodding his head to himself, satisfied with his new shades. “Now, fingers stay out of your mouth, and don’t you leave this car, got it?”
“Shh, I.... I’m sleepin’ dad.” Peter theatrically squeezed his eyes shut, making a gurgling noise that the man guessed was supposed to be a fake snore.
“Alright, alright,” Tony laughed, patting Peter’s knee. “Stay here.”
And then the billionaire was out of the car and hurrying into the building. The line wasn’t too long, but there was three people in front of him, which drew a sigh from him. He only hoped Peter could manage to keep his fingers out of his mouth, since the last thing Tony needed was Peter to start bleeding again and the having to rush back to the clinic.
It was only when the person at the front of the line left, that Tony felt a presence behind himself. Then, arms wrapped around his shoulders and a pack of chewing gum was shoved in his peripheral vision.
“I want gum.”
“Peter,” Tony gaped, “I thought you were napping in the car?”
“Nooo, I want gum. ‘member?”
“No,” Tony scowled as another person was helped and left the line. “You can’t have gum right now. Maybe we can get you a milkshake or something.”
“But... you’re like, a, a gazillionaire... I think we can afford some gum. Looook it’s peppermint!”
“Peter,”
“Pweaseee, c’mon, dad!” Tony turned his head when Peter’s chin rested on his shoulder. The boy’s glassy eyes were staring intently and the man wasn’t sure how anyone could say no to that pout.
“Fine,” the billionaire sighed, “fine. You know, Pete, you don’t even like peppermint. You’re not gonna like it, when you come out of the anesthetic.” Peter had on more than one occasion complained that peppermint was disgusting. Spiders tended to dislike the smell, and Peter was no different.
He wasn’t about to argue with a doped-up Peter though. He’d buy the three-dollar pack of gum and probably take that same pack of gum back when Peter was back in his right mind and remembered his dislike for it.
“Pff, I l-love peppermint, it’s like, the best kind there is.”
“Sure, Kiddo.” Tony sighed, “if you’re in here, why don’t you pick a couple drink to put in the fridge when we get home, hm? We can go pick up some snacks tomorrow when you’ve got your head back.”
Peter worried his bottom lip until Tony reached up to carefully pull it free, “I’ve still got my head, haven’t I?”
Tony laughed, giving an amused shake of his head at Peter’s serious concern, “yes, of course. Now go pick some drinks before we get to the front of the line.”
The boy left, taking his gum away like it was a precious jewel or something.
Peter was back by Tony’s side with four bottles of different drinks and his pack of gum just as the last person in front of them was checked out.
Tony stepped up, and Peter stumbled after him, depositing the drinks on the counter. One tipped over, rolling off the counter, and Peter tried to grab it; reflexes slow. The bottle clattered to the floor and Peter pouted. The billionaire bent down to retrieve it, settling it on the counter right, then patting Peter’s arm.
“Prescription for Peter Parker? I called ahead,” Tony explained, looking at Peter.
“I’m Peter Parker,” Peter chirped, nuzzling into Tony’s side, “I was just assaulted, and my dad didn’t help me.”
“Peter, shush,” Tony glared carefully, “he had his wisdom teeth removed. He’s not even supposed to be in here.” Tony told the clerk with a half-smile.
“It’s no problem,” the woman grinned, “I assumed with the Motrin and Vicodin,” she waved off, “he’s not the first to stumble in here like that. And the chipmunk cheeks were a bit of a giveaway.”
Peter grinned at her, and then looked up at Tony under his eyelashes, “I love my dad,” he told the clerk.
“I love you too, Pete,” Tony sighed, ruffling his fingers through the teen’s hair.
“Do you?” Peter whined quietly, sounding close to tears, “do you r-really love me?”
“Of course, I do,” Tony laughed. The clerk smiled at them again as she sorted out Peter’s medications.
Peter hugged Tony tightly, and the man patted the teen’s back.
“My dad’s buying me gum, it’s peppermint.” Peter said randomly to the clerk, his eyes peeking out from their embrace.
At the look the woman gave him, Tony felt the need to defend himself, “he doesn’t like peppermint.” Tony continued on with a small smile, “and he doesn’t get it until after his teeth have healed up, right bud?”
“Mm, yeah.”
Then back to the clerk, the man continued, “but by then he’ll remember he doesn't even like peppermint.”
They fell into a silence at the clerk worked away, sorting the drugs and then scanning everything Peter had dropped on the counter.
The woman handed the bag of everything to Peter while Tony swiped his card to pay for everything.
“Hey, kiddo, what do we say to the nice lady?”
Peter seemed to think this over seriously for a second, eyeing the woman with apprehension. His eyes drifted to Tony who was giving him an encouraging smile, then the boy leaning forward over the counter towards her and whispered loudly, “I’m Spider-Man.”
Tony chocked on his own spit for the second time that day, as he put a hand on the teen’s shoulder and pulled him back into his side. He refrained from throwing a hand over the teen’s mouth in fear he’d make the boy bleed again.
“He’s uh,” Tony stammered. The only thing running through Tony’s mind was prayers that the woman hadn’t heard what Peter’s med-drunk mouth slurred. She looked intently between the two of them for a second; glancing from Tony’s shell-shocked expression, to Peter’s dopey little smile.
“I’m sure you are, sweetheart,” the woman cooed. She was staring at Peter with a look one what when a toddler did something goofy. She didn’t believe him, thank god. He was quick to recover, scolding Peter gently about how he meant saying ‘thank you’.
Peter grinned at Tony, then looked back towards the clerk, lifting a fist, which he then continued on to lift his thumb, pointer and pinky fingers and make a ‘thwip’ noise under his gauzy mouth. For his drugged-up state, it actually sounded a lot like the real web-shooters.
“Spider-Man,” the teen murmured softly to himself, giving a small bloodied grin to Tony. The billionaire suddenly felt the weight of Peter leaning heavily into his side and glanced down to see the boy blinking his eyes shut sleepily.
Tony gave a startled laugh. “You sure are, Kiddo,” he played along, happy with the outcome of what could’ve basically ruined Peter’s whole superhero life.
The man smiled down at his boy, before returning his attention to the woman, feeling like he should continue to cover up Peter’s almost super-hero outing, “sorry, he’s a bit obsessed with Spider-Man.”
“Ah, no problem.” The woman laughed, smiling widely at Peter who was mumbling to himself about very real Spider-Man adventures he’d had. “My boy’s the same way.”
“’m tired, Dad. Wanna go home.” Tony took that in stride, clapping the teen lightly on the shoulder and throwing an arm over his shoulder to lead him away. The billionaire threw a sharp, nervous smile over his shoulder as he turned.
“That’s our que,” the billionaire said quickly, ushering the boy out by the arm over his shoulder.
Peter gave the clerk a sloppy wave, turning to lift his finger to his mouth, giving her a shushing gesture, to which she returned with an adorning smile.
“You, sir,” Tony leaned close to Peter to whisper as he helped the teenager back into the car, “narrowly missed outing yourself to the entire world.”
“Nu uh,” Peter frowned. Peter seemed to consider himself for a second as Tony buckled himself in.
The teen looked down in concentration as he did as the man did, buckling himself in. When he was done, he looked at Tony, finger just touching his bottom lip before grinning to himself and cheering, “’m out an’ ‘m proud!”
Tony snorted.
“Pride, dad,” Peter whispered now, voice taking a tired edge, “gotta be proud.”
“I didn’t know you were gay,” the billionaire mused, pulling out of the parking spot, “now, vanilla, chocolate or strawberry milkshake?”
“What do you mean?” Peter opened his eyes, obviously confused, “’m not gay. ‘m free, like the wind. Can’t hold me down...” Peter’s eyes finally shut. He murmured to himself, and Tony smiled lightly.
“Yes, you can be anything you want,” Tony agreed softly, but he was quite sure Peter had lost his consciousness battle finally.
“Chocolate, need a chocolate mi‘shake.”
“Chocolate it is,” the billionaire smiled, knowing Peter was totally out now. “I really can’t wait for you to see this footage back,” the man’s eyes fell to his own glasses perched on Peter’s nose, slowly slipping down as his head lulled forwards, “now that’ll be funny.”
----
It was later that afternoon, Peter passed out on the couch in the workshop, since he didn’t want to be alone and Tony had things to do, that the billionaire pulled up the footage from the car and the glasses cam.
The car ride wasn’t that eventful. Peter talking to the nurse in front of the car was a bit funny, but the best footage was definitely from when Peter was left to his own devices.
“Spider-Man,” Peter whispered to himself, “Spider-Man.” The camera angle was pointed down, and his shaky fingers fiddled with the draw string on his sweatpants. “Does whatever a spider can,” the boy snorted to himself, a string of pink spit dropping onto his pants.
“Oh,” the boy stared down for a solid minute before brushing it away. Then, Peter’s attention lifted to the driver’s side and the angle tilted, “Dad?”
His attention switched to the other side, gazing out his window.
“Gum!” The boy suddenly shouted, “I want gum.” And then the boy was fiddling with his restraining seatbelt and pushing the car door open.
Peter stumbled out on shaky feet, taking a few cautious steps before he seemed to find his balance. He got a few steps before looking over his shoulder at the car, whose door was still wide open. Peter groaned to himself, spinning and slamming it shut.
Tony scowled to himself over his own laughter at the rough treatment with the expensive car, but continued watching.
It took Peter a couple tries to get the door open, pushing instead of pulling. The teen muttered mock profanities at it, then laughed openly at himself when he finally pulled the door.
The teen made a beeline for the lines of gum and candy, Peter’s fingers trailed over each pack of gum. When he finally decided, on the peppermint he didn’t like, the teen swung around and moved to Tony.
The billionaire watched himself stiffen at the unexpected contact, then relax. The view was just his own shirt scrunched up, as Peter pressed his face in it.
Tony fast forwarded through their conversation over the gum, but started the video again when Peter walked away.
Peter’s adventure finding his drinks wasn’t much. Just the boy shuffling back and forth and speaking to the different selections of drinks. He even consulted with his package of chewing gum.
Tony snorted to himself.
Finally, the billionaire forwarded to the moment he mostly wanted to see. Peter was staring long and hard at the clerk behind the counter, and then he leaned forward and the woman got closer.
“I’m Spider-Man.” Tony could hear himself sputtering, but his attention was focused on the clear surprise on the woman’s face. She stared blankly at Peter.
This angle really showed how surprised the woman was, because most people didn’t just blurt something like that. Tony couldn’t understand Peter’s train of thought in this situation, but he was utterly glad the woman just smiled like Peter had told a joke instead of muttering the truth.
By the end of the video, the billionaire was sputtering laughter to himself. It was even better on camera. Peter had been so out of it. The kid did not do well with anesthetics, apparently.
“Stop laughing at me, it’s rude,” Peter muttered sleepily from the couch behind him. “’m hungry,” Peter huffed, “and my mouth hurts.”
“Come on then.” Tony stood, calming his laughter as Peter pulled himself into a sitting position, “you can finish eating your milkshake, and take another round of meds.”
“Mm ‘kay,” Peter sighed, standing up slowly, “did I embarrass myself a lot?”
“More or less,” Tony admitted, smiling at the boy, “now let’s get you fed, drugged and in bed for the night. You’ll see the video tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Peter replied drowsily, leaning against Tony’s side again.
“I’ll be showing Pepper tonight though, so, be ready for that tomorrow, Spider-Man.”
“Oh goodie.”
“Spider-Man. Does whatever a spider can.”
“Huh?”