“Hey, Pete, can you hand me that screwdriver over there?”
Peter reaches for the small tool on the desk, which is about four feet out of Tony’s reach due to his habit of rolling tools out of the way once he’s done with them, even though he’s going to need them again just a few seconds later. Apparently, having an intern is the best thing to happen to Tony’s workshop since sliced bread.
“Yeah, as long as you don’t fling it across the room again,” Peter teases sarcastically, handing the screwdriver to his mentor, who flashes him a pointed look that doesn’t come across as anything but fond to Peter.
“You’ll come to learn that some habits are unbreakable, kid. But as long as I have you in the lab, I think I’ll be just fine,” Tony tells him, to which Peter rolls his eyes, hating when Tony pulls the whole ‘I’m an old adult and you’re a learning teenager’ spiel.
“So, what do you do when I’m not here, just sit around until someone comes along to hand you the tool you just flung away?” Peter asks, leaning his cheek on his hand, watching Tony mess around with a pair of decked out sunglasses he’s making for Peter, which he hopes will help dial back his heightened senses while he isn’t in his suit. At the moment, he’s trying to add a chip that will connect the glasses to Karen, paired with discreet earpieces Peter can wear all the time, sort of like reverse hearing aids that will also double as a bluetooth for the glasses and his phone. He has to admit, it’s incredibly cool. He’s mostly there just to oversee and learn about nanotechnology, and to test run some of the tech to fit his accommodations.
“Pretty much, Underoos.”
As Tony keeps on with his work on the glasses, Peter pulls out his chemistry work from his bag, opening up his notebook to the page of his newest web fluid compound, and set to work theorising new ways to make the fluid last longer, so he’d stop losing his backpacks as the webs dissolve. Hiding them in a more discreet manner is definitely not an option in Peter’s mind, because where’s the fun in that? He’s got no time to put down his backpack before going out on patrol after school.
“Working on some new web fluid?” Tony asks, glancing over at Peter’s notes. He’s suddenly very conscious about the way he decorates his notes with doodles and bubble letter headings, filling in corners and blank spaces with zentangle patterns he’d learned back in a short middle school art course.
“Yeah, I wanna make sure that the criminals I web up won’t be able to escape with a blade, or that it won’t dissolve so quickly…,” he trails off, focusing again on filling in a few annotations, marking out what will and won’t work.
“So… you want to create a web shield?” Tony asks with the quirk of an eyebrow in his direction.
Peter thinks for a moment, considering the idea. “Not what I was going for, but that’s definitely going on my to-do list,” he says, flipping a page to scribble down a hasty note about durable and retractable web shields.
“We can start on it tomorrow morning. You’re staying the night, right? You cleared it with May?”
Peter rolls his eyes, smiling at how overprotective Tony is with him sometimes. “Yeah, I called her earlier, said we were supposed to have a late night in the lab. I think she was more relieved, though, said something about making plans with some friends. I’m glad she can get a night without having to worry about me dying or something.”
“Yeah, because you’re so safe here, with all of the untested tech and literal weapon robots,” Tony says sarcastically, messing with a microchip prototype under a magnifying glass, testing out the waters with the mini Karen file, thus proving his point.
“Mr. Stark, I think we both know I’m safer with you than I am by myself,” Peter tells him reluctantly. Usually, he won’t admit so easily that what he does is dangerous, mostly because he doesn’t like to worry the helicopter adults in his life, but he knows it’s the truth.
“That, and maybe you’ll finally get some sleep.”
Rolling his eyes, Peter goes back to stare at his notes, wondering what he’s missing in his compound, and eventually decides he can’t pay attention to it, so he instead watches what Tony is doing.
So far, the glasses are pretty much skinned so Tony can fit all of the tech inside of them, ensuring that nobody will be able to figure out their actual purpose. Being discreet is key in highschool, even without weird spider powers.
“Run out of ideas?” Tony asks, not looking away from his project.
“Only for now. I’ll probably think of something while on a snack break later,” Peter tells him, spinning from side to side on his stool, unable to sit still for even a moment.
“Speaking of, I picked up those chips you said you liked,” Tony mumbles through a screwdriver he has clenched between his teeth, making his words almost unintelligible.
“Seriously? Thanks, Mr. Stark. May refuses to buy them anymore. Says I inhale them like oxygen,” Peter laughs, already thinking about their next break so he can rip into a bag. It’s not like it’ll help with sustenance or anything, since his metabolism is freakishly fast from the spider bite, but it’ll still taste good.
“Perhaps I should confiscate them, if that’s the case.”
Starting to pout deliberately, Peter looks up at Tony, his cheeks being squished by his hands as he siccs the puppy eyes on his mentor. It always works with Ned, so why not Tony?
“Kid, I’m immune to the eyes. And I was kidding, I’m not that much of a buzzkill.” Peter can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice, and grinned again, sitting up straighter on his stool and letting go of his cheeks. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have to prevent you from going into heart failure, though. I’m still responsible for you.”
“Mr. Stark, my body was literally modified to prevent that from happening itself,” Peter explains, waving around his arms exasperatedly. Tony gives him a pointed look.
“Yeah, well, you can still form medical ailments like the human you are. Don’t want you ending up with one of these,” he says, knocking on the middle of his chest with his knuckles, eliciting a hollow metal clanking noise. Not that he really needs it anymore, the shrapnel is all gone, but the reactor still powers the Iron Man suits.
“I’m fine, sir, really. Nothing gets past this immune system. I’m not even sure normal vaccinations will work on me anymore,” Peter goes off, not realising that he’s splitting onto a new tangent every second.
“Want me to get a doctor up here tomorrow? Figure all that out for you?” Tony offers. “I know it’s not Bruce, but I have some doctors on standby who know how to deal with enhanced and modified humans,” he explains, still messing around with the Karen prototype. He seems to be trying to find ways to fit it inside the frame, using small, thin wires that look like they can’t hold much power, but are probably more effective than they look.
“That’d be great, thanks,” Peter says with relief. “Backtracking, do you know where Dr. Banner went off to?” he asks, tilting his head. If Peter is being honest, Bruce is one of the people he’s most excited to meet, hoping to converse about biology and medicine, since Tony is more of a mechanic type scientist. And while Peter loves all types of science, he has yet to talk to a real professional Doctor. Maybe he’ll collect the holy trinity of science mentors: technology, biology, and chemistry.
“No idea, Kid. Just fell off the face of the earth, haven’t been able to contact him since that Ultron thing,” Tony mumbles through his concentration.
“Well, I hope he’s not in any danger,” Peter vocalises his thoughts, not really meaning to say that part out loud, even though he knows Tony is thinking it as well.
“I want to say that I know he isn’t, but I can’t lie to you, Kid. Whenever someone goes missing, I always have to worry.”
On that note, Peter decides to stay quiet, not entirely sure if Tony wants his opinion on the matter at this point. But he’s wired the same way. It’s why he goes patrolling every night; when people are in danger, he has to worry, and do something about it. Otherwise it’s his fault when the bad things happen.
After a few more minutes, Tony lets out a groan of frustration, hanging his head low and stretching his neck muscles before resuming the project.
“Oh, forgot to tell you, we got news of Toomes’ case this morning. Short trial, they bring him into jail tonight,” Tony says offhandedly, switching one of his magnifying glasses. His tongue is sticking out of his mouth, which Peter knows is a sign that he’s working with a fairly frustrating gadget.
The way Peter tenses at the name, sucking in a breath he can’t seem to let go of, brings Tony out of his concentration to face him. He even turns his chair, which signals a conversation is about to happen.
“What did that guy do to get you so anxious? You were confident in your ability to ‘take him down’ just a month ago,” Tony asks, furrowing his brows at Peter, who rubs at his neck, biting his lip at the thought of having to relive any second of what happened with the Vulture.
“It’s nothing. He uh- I mean he had creepy eyes on his wingsuit, so-”
“Pete, you and I both know that is not the whole truth. You’re a horrible liar. I’m surprised nobody’s figured out you’re Spider-Man yet,” Tony interrupted, earning himself a lighthearted glare.
“For one thing, the only people who have figured it out are you, Ned, and May, and you barely count because you’re some sort of superhero magnet,” Peter tells him, tapping his pencil against his notebook, studying his own handwriting and ignoring whatever reaction Tony has to his statement. “And for another, it’s really okay, Mr. Stark. It’s not like I’m hurt or anything.”
“Kid, you can hurt inside, too. If something happened that night he hijacked the plane that makes you flinch when you hear his name, I want to know about it. I’m breaking the cycle of shame, remember?” Tony tells him, making his cheeks burn at the memory of his mentor indirectly referring to himself as Peter’s father figure. He reaches up to push his hair out of his face, having not done anything but let it air dry after his morning shower. Of course, his curls have to show themselves at the first sign of freedom from all of the product he usually puts in it on school days. With the amount of time Peter’s spent at the new facility since the move, he’s begun to not care about how he looks when he’s there.
After a good thirty seconds, Peter finally breaks under Tony’s probing stare.
“I followed him the night of the homecoming to his base, and he was waiting for me,” he begins, chancing a look up at Tony, who is paying him full attention. “Remember how the warehouse was all demolished and collapsed when they investigated his business?” he asks, not waiting for Tony to nod, but still flickering his eyes up to him. “Well, when I got there, I thought I had him, but he uh-” Peter took a deep breath. “He started saying all of these things about you and your business, and it threw me off that he was using my actual name, so I didn’t realise what was coming and he made his wingsuit break all of the support beams, and the um, well the ceiling caved, and the building just sort of… collapsed on me. And I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have Karen to contact anyone, so I started yelling for help, but nobody heard me, so I had to lift the beam that fell on me. And then I stuck to his suit and fought him up on the plane so he-”
“Woah, Pete, slow down,” Tony says, snapping Peter out of his reminiscence of that night. He doesn’t even realise that he’s completely spacing out until he feels his eyes burn from the lack of blinking. “He knows who you are?” Tony asks, resting a tentative hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter nods slowly. “And he dropped an entire building on you, knowing that you’re only fifteen?”
Peter nods again, trying to fight off the stupid tear that escapes his eye, wiping it away before Tony can notice. But of course he notices, because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Peter.
“Kid, why didn’t you mention this to anyone?”
Peter thinks for a moment. Why didn’t he? He figured the crashed plane was enough for Tony to deal with about that night, he didn’t need the added burden of Peter being trapped, especially since he knew Tony would blame it all on himself for taking away his suit, which wasn’t why it happened at all. Not to mention-
“It would have given away my identity, and I didn’t want to deal with the police about it. So, I webbed the guy up and left him for someone to find, then hid on the Cyclone until I knew for sure that he was caught and in custody. Next thing I know, you’re asking me to join the team.”
Tony leaves him in a string of silence, only his thoughts to keep him from going uneasy. The hand on his shoulder never falls away, only grips tighter after a few seconds.
When Tony opens his mouth, Peter expects him to say something about how stupid it was for him to withhold important information from the authorities, but instead finds himself being pulled into a tight hug, his head finding its way to Tony’s shoulder to rest on.
“Pete, I wish you’d told me sooner. I could’ve helped,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle the back of Peter’s head, fingers carding through his curls. The gesture is incredibly out of character and has never happened before, but it’s not bad. In fact, Peter could get used to this. It’s been so long since he’s received any sort of paternal affection, and while it may be weird, and he may feel guilty for thinking it, this is exactly what he remembers that feeling like.
But Tony Stark is not his father. He already has one of those. He may not be with him, but he’s still his dad.
That doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around Tony, though, because a hug is a hug, and he’s in desperate need of one right now.
“It’s over now, Mr. Stark. I’m okay,” Peter tries to reassure him, but Tony just chuckles a little, reminding him that no situation is too serious. He thrives off of this mentality. It makes him feel like he doesn’t need to commit to the feeling of a moment.
“Aren’t I supposed to be the one telling you that?” Tony asks, making Peter laugh along with him. With a light clap on the back, Tony pulls away, and the tear that slipped out earlier is now forgotten in the midst of his bright smile. He can physically feel himself getting happier just from the feeling of Tony being happy.
“I think we can take turns,” Peter tells him, a smirk finding its place on his face.
“Or you could just stop almost dying.”
“Only if you do.”
Peter looks up at Tony, making eye contact for a split second as they both raise an eyebrow, then looks away, smiling as he realises just how alike they really are. Maybe he’s not so far away from becoming who he wanted to be, even as a little kid.
“What do you say we take a break from the glasses and go upstairs to the kitchen, yeah? Tear into those chips, eat our feelings away?” Tony asks, pushing his stool under the workbench and walking over to the elevator. Peter grins, looking back at his notes for a moment before running over to Tony as he presses the button.
“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Stark.”