Friends
“Pete! Get out here, we’re gonna be late late instead of fashionably late!” Tony tapped his dress shoe against the garage floor impatiently.
“Sorry! Sorry, sorry!” Peter scurried down the stairs, he had one hand in his curls – which he clearly had no time to gel down – and another gripping his shoe as he shoved it on his foot. The corner of his toothbrush stuck out of his mouth and he smiled sheepishly at Tony.
“My god, you’re such a mess, kiddo,” Tony huffed amusedly, watching Peter rinse out his mouth at the emergency chemical spill basin as he simultaneously tried to lace up his shoes. “Come on then,” he said through a poorly concealed laugh as Peter fruitlessly tried to finger comb his hair. “Calm down, you look fine,” he promised.
He snapped his fingers and pointed to one of the dark red convertibles. “Jump in,” he pressed, sliding into the front seat. Peter dropped his toothbrush on the bench and opened his mouth to speak with a somewhat questionable look on his face. “No, absolutely not,” Tony laughed, already knowing Peter wanted to have a go backing the car out of the garage.
Peter pouts but clambered into the passenger seat all the same. “I let you reverse one time and now you’re addicted,” Tony grumbled without much heat. “Anyway, I was going to say stop worrying about your hair. In case you hadn’t noticed yet, this is a convertible.”
“Ugh, of course you pick the car without a roof,” Peter complains. Tony just flashes him a smile and pulls out of the garage seamlessly.
The drive wasn’t a long one, the Stark Expo was close enough, especially considering Tony had the option to choose where it was held.
Peter sighed as they pulled up, biting his lip and wincing against the harsh camera flashes. “Remind me why we’re doing this again,” he murmured. Tony squeezed his shoulder as they stepped around the car. Luckily, Happy had already arrived and started working on crowd control, so there was a roped off section which gave Tony and Peter a clear path to walk down without worrying about reporters and paparazzi.
Tony had a smile on and waved politely, although he kept Peter pressed against his side. They didn’t stop for questions, but Peter did duck his head and give a few reporters a shy smile.
“Nice of you to show up to your own expo, Stark.” Tony looked up and Peter could feel the instinctive tightening of his fingers around his shoulders. Norman was stood just outside the entrance, his arms folded across his chest.
“Aren’t you supposed to be presenting about now?” Tony asked coldly, irritation clear in his tone.
“Thanks to you, it got pushed back. They don’t want to officially start until you’re here in case you weren’t going to show up to your own presentation. So, thanks for that.” Norman had a frown on his face, he was scowling directly at Tony.
“Well it is my expo, it’s literally called the Stark expo.” Tony mirrored the way Norman’s stance was confident, he positioned himself slightly in front of Peter, his lip twitching in annoyance. “So, my bad for even giving you a slot to present at my expo.”
Norman clenched his teeth irritably. Tony quirked a brow, daring the man to say more.
“I should, um – I should probably get backstage now,” Peter said quietly. Tony immediately diverted his attention and focused on Peter.
“Okay, bud, text me if you need, I’ll just be answering questions from the press.” Peter nodded, smiling as Tony gave his arm a final squeeze and watching him hurry off to the backstage area where all the tech was kept.
Once Peter was out of earshot, Norman turned to watch Tony carefully.
“Why’d you invite me this year? What’s your ulterior motive, Stark?” The billionaire narrowed his eyes, waiting for Tony’s explanation.
“I figured it was only fair to give your kid a day off from the ever-present threat of being thrust into a hostage situation. This place has constant security, and nobody’s going to threaten backstage crew at an event like this. So, you’re welcome.” Tony turned, smiling at a distant reporter working their way through the crowd towards him. “It’s not my business, Norman, but the amount you don’t worry when your son is kidnapped – pretty concerning to say the least.”
Norman opened his mouth to protest, or to snark back, but Tony was already being swept away in a tidal of questions and fake press smiles.
----
Harry bit the edge of his lip as the crappy backstage PC glitched out during the fifth export he had attempted. He huffed irritably and lightly smacked the side of the screen with little intent to harm.
“C’mon, you have one job – just export the damn files,” he grunted, clicking the mousepad enough to crash the stupid machine even more. Harry groaned audibly, straightening up and stretching his back as he dragged his hands over his eyes.
“H – Harry?” The teen snapped his head up as he heard his name being called. He looked up at Peter, who had appeared behind the thick curtain separating the stage from their small area.
“Oh, uh hey Pete.” The smaller teen smiled before quirking his head to the side and scrunching his nose up in thought.
“Are you… are you a backstage technician this year?” Harry nodded, gesturing to the PC with a frozen screen.
“Yep, although if this is the tech we get, then I regret everything.” Peter laughed softly at Harry’s disgruntled complaint.
“Here,” he began, moving much closer than where he had been. Harry could smell the mint on his breath. “It freezes up a lot, you just gotta know how to handle it.” Peter fiddled blindly for a moment, then yanked a cord out of place, momentarily turning the screen to black before plugging it back in and watching the start-up menu load.
“You’d think a tech expo like this would have better technology…” Harry smiled, Peter’s nose pinkened slightly. “I’m here because your Dad gave Norman a presentation slot this year.”
“Of course he did,” Peter mumbled. “So, how come you’re doing backstage crew then?” Harry watched the way Peter shifted nervously in place, how his fingers crept up to push a strand of hair off his face.
“Your Dad suggested it, he said it could be an alternative to following Norman around and dodging paparazzi all day.” Harry smiled lopsidedly. “And you?”
“I’ve always done this, its quieter, I like the peace.” Peter looked across at the stairwell beside the stage, listening for the next presenter in case they showed up earlier than the schedule had planned. “I think you’ll like it too, or at least you’ll like it better than trailing after your father all day.”
For a moment, there was quiet aside from the whirr of the computer fan, but it was quickly broken by the soft chime of the home screen. “How has everything been, since y’know…”
“Uh, not too bad actually. The press calmed down after awhile and I guess Norman did a few interviews, but other than that… nothing’s really going down. I had school, interviews, photoshoots, not much else.” Peter frowned, tilting his head to the side, causing a stray curl to slip out from behind his ear and dangle above his eyes.
“But you just… you just got kidnapped? Wouldn’t you want to stay away from drawing more attention to your popularity in case anyone else gets the idea to do the same thing?” Harry looked to the floor and scuffed the top edge of his shoe against the floor.
“You’d think so,” he mumbled unhappily. “But its promotional, y’know the drill.”
“Uh…” Peter rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and looked to the floor. “I don’t, not really,” he glanced up to give the taller boy a sympathetic look before speaking again. “My Dad doesn’t want me to do interviews or photoshoots or anything really. I guess he wants to give me a choice, because he never got one.” Peter truly looked up, then. He stared into Harry’s eyes as he spoke, “and it feels like… maybe your Dad didn’t give you much of a choice either.”
“Dad, I don’t wanna today…” Harry, almost eight now, folded his arms and squeezed his shoulders protectively.
“Well, that’s business. You know the company’s stocks dipped this month, I need a brand seller. That’s you, Harold.” Norman flicked a speck of dust from his laptop screen and sighed when he saw his son pouting in the reflection of it. “What’s the matter, are you frightened of a couple questions and photos? Pull it together, boy. I do this everyday of my life – so can you.”
Harry blinked, shifting weight onto his back foot before slumping in a worn office chair.
“I, um… y – yeah, no. I guess I don’t really.” Peter picked up on the not so subtle vibes that the conversation wouldn’t be wise to continue.
“We should get something to eat when there’s a break in the presentations. My Dad said he’d get pizzas for the long break, so we may as well find something small after…” Peter leaned over, skimming his eyes across a schedule before biting his lip and wincing subtly. “After… your Dad presents.” Harry huffed a humourless laugh, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.
“I didn’t expect anything less,” he said quietly, a bitterness in his tone which made Peter want to knock Norman off the edge of the stage. “He’s on in a few minutes,” Harry said dully. Peter pulled the only available chair out and wheeled himself closer to Harry, their elbows bumping together softly.
“Hey, it’ll be all good. Look, you literally have all the power. He gives you the USB with all his slides on it, and you could easily mess with it at any point. I mean, you won’t, but its cool to know you’ve got the option to.” He smiled broadly, his cheeks les red now that he was comfortable.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Harry said, his smile less broad and more impish. Peter didn’t know why, but his head rang clear, he liked the lopsided grin on Harry’s face.
The two of them didn’t have much to talk about, but they managed to maintain an easy-going conversation about the typical things, school, grades, homework, and so on. There wasn’t much grit until Norman jogged up the steps, threw a USB stick into Harry’s lap, sneered thinly at Peter, and waltzed between the curtains to welcome the crowd.
“Asshole,” Harry muttered quietly after his father as Peter ducked his head and plugged the stick in, bringing up the slideshow and staying quiet after that.
“Yeah, yes. I can see you’re all very excited I finally got myself a spot at the expo, thanks Tony, by the way.” Harry clenched his teeth when he noticed Peter’s shoulders stiffening slightly. “I’ve got a few reviews, shares and then an exciting announcement near the end, so settle in folks.” Harry could practically hear the false smile Norman was undeniably shooting the audience. “Why don’t we start off with a little review, of my products of course, none of the faulty Stark tech and whatnot –”
“Let’s go out, for food,” Harry said abruptly, standing up fast enough to send his chair spinning in a slow circle. “Come on, I’m super thirsty, let’s find a café or something outside the expo. Norman’s boring as shit, let’s get out of here.” Harry held out his hand, for whatever reason, he didn’t know, but Peter took it without much hesitation.
“Okay, the slides are set to auto anyway.” Harry watched the pinkish hue tint up Peter’s nose and across his cheeks as he slowly looked down at their hands before they fell apart again. “Let’s um… let’s get going then.”
“Okay,” Harry murmured, turning towards the stairwell and descending as quickly as he could. Honestly, it was because he knew Norman probably had a few lines dedicated to purely slandering SI, and he’d rather leave to spare Peter’s feelings than sit and wince every time he had to listen to his father degrading someone he actually liked.
----
Peter’s laugh was… it was flawless, if Harry had to describe it. His nose went red and his eyes scrunched up, but he was happy – and Harry was too.
“No, no, that’s not even the worst thing, I once got so off topic in a biology exam that I ended my answer with a list of the laws of thermodynamics, so I feel like I’m worse than you.” Peter smiled as he finished off the last of his smoothie, the straw scraping against the bottom of the glass.
“Okay, you win – how the hell do you even manage to work thermodynamics into a bio exam, you’re such a nerd.” Harry pushed his empty glass away, so it clinked against Peter’s. “But then again, I guess we both are. I mean, we’re volunteering at a technology expo –”
“Speaking of…” Peter said, glancing at his phone. “We should probably head back before Norman finishes his talk.” Harry’s smiled faltered slightly, it was clear he didn’t want to go back yet, but it was unavoidable. “Don’t worry about the stuff Norman says, I’m not going to be offended by anything really.”
“That’s not the point, it’s just the fact that its like he has to be an asshole about it.” The two of them rose from their seats as Harry spoke, walking out the front doors and onto the street. “He couldn’t even try to just leave SI out of his presentation. I mean, you can release a new product without dissing on one that your Dad has already produced.” Peter shrugged nonchalantly, both him and Tony didn’t feel the need to be competitive with Oscorp, partly because they did better anyway, but also because Tony didn’t actively compete with different tech. He did his own thing.
A large car drove past the two, slowing slightly as the tinted windows reflected the sunlight. Harry took more notice of it then Peter did, he subconsciously quickened his pace. Peter’s curls bounced as he walked slightly faster, it distracted Harry for a moment.
“Osborn! Mr. Parker-Stark!” Harry tensed and reached out to grab Peter’s wrist.
“Don’t turn around, just keep walking,” he whispered, gently tugging the shorter teen’s arm to lead him forward.
“Mr. Parker-Stark, just a few questions! Boys, we have questions, turn for the camera!” Peter felt Harry’s hand squeezing his wrist, grounding him while his shoulders visibly hunched. “Turn, turn, Osborn!” The two of them could hear multiple footsteps behind them, the whirring ad clicking of cameras and the mildly blinding flashes that made everything blurry. “Stark, Stark – has your face healed, are you still bruised?” Harry’s fingers tightened as he pulled Peter past a second news van.
“Harry,” the brunette mumbled, almost tripping over his own feet as a paparazzi cut across their path.
“I know, I do.” Harry said, “trust me.” Peter readied himself to respond, but Harry picked up the pace so much that they were practically running. “They go straight, all the time.”
“What?” Peter asked breathlessly, not pausing to look at the other teen as they ran. “Why are we runni – agh!”
Harry barley looked behind himself as he took a sharp turn and pulled Peter across an alley and into a doorway. They were both breathing heavily, Peter was looking down at their feet and Harry was pressing the back of his head against the door, sighing as the footsteps and camera snaps filtered past them.
“Sorry,” he breathed softly. “I know you hate them.” Peter laughed quietly, leaning forward and resting his forehead beside Harry’s head against the wall.
“How often do you do that?” Harry smiled, shrugging innocently.
“Couple times a week, maybe more.” The answer only made Peter laugh harder. “What? It’s a good technique, admit it.” Harry smiled lopsidedly again, leaning forward slightly, enough that Peter’s face flushed.
“Maybe,” he murmured, looking away as his ears reddened. “But that doesn’t take away from the fact that I wanna get back now, just for the pizza.” Harry rolled his eyes, but the smirk remained on his face.
----
“And I’d just like to say thanks, to everyone who’s waited for this release, because I’m sure majority of you are here because your Stark pads broke,” the audience chuckled somewhat unfriendlily.
Harry pinched his lips together angrily. He and Peter had been sat down for all of three minutes and Norman had already slipped in about eight separate digs at SI.
“I hate him,” Harry spat venomously. He looked down when Peter reached out and squeezed the back of his wrist.
“You don’t need to hate him for m –”
“I don’t hate him for you, I hate him for him. Who he is, what he stands for. I hate him because he’s an asshole.” Harry turned to look up at the other teen, who was watching him with wide, brown eyes. “But if I hate him for how he treats your family… then I can hate him for that too.”
“Okay,” Peter said lightly, the smallest hint of a reserved smile on his lips.
“So, continuing on, I’d like to draw attention to the particular highlights of this new release compared to the uh… drawbacks, of a past SI release.” Norman’s voice dripped with self-satisfaction and Harry groaned as he dropped his head and busied himself with checking the right slides were in order.
“God damnit…” he hissed, reading the next slide up for presentation. The entire thing was a chart noting the best points of the Oscorp release in comparison to the worst in SI’s. “I’m cutting it,” Harry warned.
“Wait, no. It’s fine, you don’t need to. He’ll get upset, he’ll blame us.” Peter interjected, a pitch of worry in his voice.
“No, he won’t,” Harry argued, deleting the slide completely before facing Peter with a tired look in his eyes. “He’ll blame me.”
“If you wouldn’t mind looking here at the screen, I… there’s a uh…” Norman raised his pocket-sized slide clicker and switched between the last two slides, frowning as his comparison slide didn’t appear on screen. “There’s a few key differences I’d like to highlight, namely the processing speed and the ram the tech can handle at once.”
“See, he’s fine,” Harry pointed out, bitterness still in his tone. “He’s got it memorised.” His tone was a mockery of fake excitement, and Peter could see the anguish in his eyes. The two of them sat quietly as they listened to Norman fumble through the last few points before finally closing the presentation. The two of them could hear chairs squeaking and paper rustling as everyone stood to mingle around the expo some more, but Harry was busy tracking Norman’s footsteps offstage.
“And what hell was that exactly, huh?!” Norman demanded as he shoved past the curtain separating the stage from the backstage area. “Are you two trying to run my biggest selling points? Or was it just you?” He rounded on Peter, his eyes burning with anger. “Were you just jealous that I clearly know how to make a good product and you didn’t want it driving your Daddy out of the market, huh?”
“I… I didn’t –” Peter stuttered, taking a small step back. It was one slide; how could Norman be this furious about it.
“No, you didn’t think. You’re spoiled, Stark does everything for you and all you wanted was to screw me over. You’re a self-assured brat, you don’t deserve recognition like we do, you don’t do anything except leech.” Peter looked at the floor, his cheeks burning in shame. He shook his head timidly, trying to force his feet to carry him backward.
“Hey, he didn’t do anything. I deleted the slides because you were being a dick!” Harry stepped up, angling himself in front of his father and keeping Peter out of everything. “Look at what you’re doing right now, you’re screaming about two people who did you a favour by letting you even present. Peter and Mr. Stark helped you today, they didn’t do anything except ignore the fact that you’re an egocentric prick.”
Norman’s eyes hardened, his fists clenched at his sides. Peter stiffened, shuffling forward and standing at Harry’s side. He didn’t know if Norman would actually hit Harry in public, in front of him, but he wasn’t taking chances right now.
“You want to say that again? I’m telling you, Harold, this isn’t a goddamn subject you’re mature enough to discuss.” Peter ducked his head but instinctively reached out to lean against Harry. “This isn’t something you get to comment on, you’re young and naïve and have zero clue how to help this company. You’re ruining everything.” Peter could see Harry’s nails digging into his palm, he was glaring at the ground now too.
“I think Harry has other things to worry about than your company, Norman.” Tony dropped a box of pizza against the chair Peter had been sitting in and approached the tense trio. “Hey Pete, you okay?” He pushed Peter’s hair back and smiled softly at him, gently guiding him back from the still seething adult across from Harry. “They’re both kids. You should have other things to be throwing a tantrum over.”
“Do not tell me how to parent my kid, Stark.” Norman pushed his was across and put a tight hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m perfectly capable of disciplining my own blood,” he pressed.
Peter could feel the weight of the thick tension and all he had wanted for the past hour or so was pizza, but he was currently dealing with the fact that Norman’s fingers looked to be squeezing too tightly against Harry’s shoulders.
“Harry,” he said softly, smiling gently as the taller boy looked up from the floor to meet his eyes. “We should eat,” he murmured, drifting towards the box. Norman’s fingers tightened, before loosening enough for Harry to avert his eyes and slip over to where Peter stood.
“You two can eat on the stairs,” Tony suggested, not taking his eyes off Norman.
“Mhm,” Peter hummed. He picked up the box and Harry trailed after him as they moved out of earshot.
“I take it you understand this is the last time you’ll ever be invited back here?” Tony said, not unkindly. “But I’m assuming we’re going to have an issue if I offer your son a position as a backstage technician.”
“You can do what you like, as far as I’m concerned as long as Harold’s out of the way, I don’t particularly care.” Tony glowered before shaking his head at the floor and waving his hand dismissively.
----
“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled as Peter sat on the last step and handed him a slice of pizza.
“Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong. You stood up for me, so I should be thanking you.” He looked up and smiled genuinely, taking his own piece of pizza.
“I just… I want you to know the stuff Norman said was bullshit. You’re the most selfless person I’ve met, you don’t ‘leech’ or whatever he was talking about. I think you’re great,” he admitted quietly. “You don’t deserve the media making things difficult, or the shit Norman said.”
“Thanks, but I want you to know that whatever he says to you isn’t true either. I… I saw his fingers and I’ve seen you flinch before, in the cell. It’s not my place but I –” Peter paused, biting his lip when he saw Harry look away. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I just want you to be safe.”
“I’m okay, he doesn’t… Norman just… it’s not as bad as you think,” Harry managed after some pauses to consider what exactly he was planning on saying.
“Okay, well if you ever need somewhere to go, or you want to just get out of the house, my Dad and I have way too many rooms for ourselves. The tower is massive, it’s got a café and heaps of spare labs.” Harry tilted his chin up, looking over to Peter. “I’m just trying to say you have options.” Peter nudged his shoulder with a meek smile, “we can always prove the media wrong. An Osborn and a Stark, friends. They’d eat it up.”
“I’d like that, I’m always happy to prove the media wrong. Friends?” Harry put his hand out, watching Peter smile as he took the offering.
“Friends.”