Soft, Fluffy Spider-Baby !
Peter tugged his tie and swallowed thickly, hating the constricting feeling of his suit jacket and formal pants. He slid his web shooters further up his wrists to disguise the small lumps they left under his suit. He gulped when his phone buzzed, and he glanced down to see Tony’s name lighting up the screen.
Mr. Stark: Outside apartment now, come down when you’re ready kiddo.
He took a breath in and padded to the living room where May was reading a book, she looked up when he came out of his room.
“You look great sweetie, need any help with your tie?” He nodded slowly, and she adjusted it for him without even needing to set her book down to one side. “All done, best manners, text me when you’re done, and I’ll probably be asleep, so I’ll text back in the morning. You exited about staying in the tower tonight?”
“Y – yeah,” May tilted her head at him curiously and he sighed, “just… worried about the crowds I guess.” May smiled understandingly and squeezed his hand.
“You know the whole event is going to be seated, you’ll be next to Tony at a table the whole time, and majority of the night will be silent except for whoever’s speaking on stage. You’ll be okay, I promise,” Peter squeezed her hand back, an appreciative smile on his face. “If it gets too much, you know the bathrooms at places like that are really fancy, and some of them even have couches.” He laughed quietly and thanked his aunt with another grateful smile, walking toward the door as he waved goodbye.
The elevator seemed to move too fast for Peter as he was already exiting the building and walking towards Happy’s car, the back door opened for him and he peered inside to see Tony, leant against the seat casually in a suit that probably costed ten times the amount that Peter’s did.
“Hey kid,” he repositioned so Peter had more room in the back and the car sped off at the sound of the teen’s seatbelt clipping. “So, you know I’m not actually speaking tonight, we’re all just gonna be sitting and listening, maybe a bit of paparazzi out front but nothing inside, that cool?”
“Yeah, that uh, that – that sounds good actually,” Peter tried to relax his shoulders, but it was hard to with his Spider-sense playing up. When they pulled up outside the event there were more camera flashes than he would have thought, but luckily Tony went in first and they all focused on him and let Peter trail behind like a shadow.
“You, Mr. Hogan and your intern are at table nine, Mr. Stark.” A man wearing a completely black uniform walked them to a table near the middle of the room, a direct path to the exit if anything went wrong.
Throughout the first several speakers, the bar service was considerably faster than the food, and there seemed to be a man dedicated specifically to their table. Tony didn’t even need to raise his hand for another drink because it was constantly being refilled or swapped out for another. The people speaking weren’t overly engaging, but the weren’t boring either, and Peter wished he could just relax and tune in to the speeches, but the constant thrumming in his skull was worryingly distracting.
It was only about halfway through the night when Peter started to pick up on Tony’s odd lapse in behaviour. He began to laugh more at the dry opening jokes some of the speakers made, he slouched in his chair, fiddled with the table cloth rather than engaging in the speaker’s topics. At first Peter thought he could have been slightly buzzed, but all the drinks the mechanic had ordered were non-alcoholic, so that theory was out. At one point, Peter even leaned over and took a bite of the man’s food, not that he noticed of course, and he didn’t find anything wrong with it, so drugs were out of the question too.
Between speakers, Peter leant over to Happy and asked him if he noticed anything too, and after he pointed it out, they both became focused on what was going on. Tony was growing sloppier as the night went on and he even leaned across his chair and rested his face on Peter’s shoulder.
“Uhm… Mr. Stark, are you feeling okay?” Tony only mumbled something unintelligible and then rolled his face over, so his opposite cheek was pressed against Peter.
“This is ridiculous,” Happy declared, “wait here, don’t let him out of your sight.” He walked off in the direction of the back exit and Peter took a breath in before letting it out, ignoring the few eyes that were looking at a teenager with an almost dozing billionaire curled up against his shoulder.
“Mr. Stark, did you want some of my water, I think it’ll help? Or maybe have some more of the bread?” Peter had eaten the bread, so had Happy, and he was only willing to offer things to Tony which he knew for a fact wouldn’t have anything in it.
“Yeassst,” Peter covered his laugh with a cough and Tony scrunched his face in discomfort as his makeshift pillow jostled him around.
“What about yeast? Mr. Stark I think we should get you some air or someth –” Peter was cut off abruptly by a crash from the bar and he lifted the mechanic’s head with his hands, so he could turn and see what the ongoing commotion was about. He could see where bottles had been smashed and how confused the second barman looked, but he couldn’t see the man who had been making Tony’s drinks, and he couldn’t see Happy. “Okay, we’re standing up, walking to the bar now… Mr. Stark?”
“You smell like an apple,” he felt as Tony hiccupped against him and Peter didn’t bother to hide his snort of laughter.
“I smell like an apple… okay?” He hoisted Tony onto his feet and held both of his upper arms to keep him steady, walking backwards and using his senses to not back up into a table where all the other guests were seated and watching curiously. “Right okay, let’s look for Happy,” Tony was smiling wider than Peter thought he had ever seen, and he grinned right back, feeling not unlike a babysitter as he wound the man around tables and chairs like he was a child learning to walk.
“Peter!” He looked up to see Happy, holding someone’s hands behind their back as he clutched his phone and was presumably talking to the police. “He’s spiking all of Tony’s drinks, I got officers on their way, take him to the car, will you?” Happy nodded his head toward where Tony had begun to poke Peter’s hands and was whispering something quietly to himself.
“Yeah – yeah I can do that,” he promised, letting his shoulders sag in relief as he realised none of the paparazzi would be gathering outside for at least another hour, seeing as the event still had several speakers to go before it was finished. “We’re walking to the car now, what… what are you doing?” Peter focused his hearing to pick up whatever Tony was chanting quietly to himself.
“Tiny hand… baby, baby hand, so cute – much baby.” Peter slowed from where he was tediously beginning to walk Tony to the door, he spluttered for a moment before looking closely at his mentors’ face.
His eyes were slightly glassy, but still focused, his face was mildly flushed, his eyelids droopy and his gaze caught unfalteringly on where Peter’s hands rested on his arms, guiding him to the doorway.
“Did you just call my hands tiny… baby hands?” Tony didn’t answer, just continued to mutter to himself. Peter pushed the door open with his ankles, double checked there were no invasive camera’s lurking, and then stood on his tiptoes so his face was directly levelled with Tony’s. “Hi… hello – you wanna focus up a bit here? Hey, no, stop that.”
“Facefaceface… such smol baby face,” Tony waved his fingers around before cupping Peter’s face with both of his hands, squeezing his cheeks together so his lips pouted. “Tiny face, baby cheeks… big eyes, big brown eyes.” Peter carefully pushed the hands away, holding them at Tony’s sides, containing his own amused smile.
“Yeah uh… I know what I look like. They must’ve spiked you a hell of a lot, hey, what’s my name?” He clicked his fingers in front of Tony’s face and regretted it when the hand that he had been holding against his side came right back up to squeeze his cheek. “Okay, yeah alright jeez, we’ve established I have a baby face. Tell me what my name is, or better yet, your name, maybe what colour that car is over the –”
“Spider-Baby… tiny Spidey-Baby,” Tony cooed, making grabby hands.
“Okay sheesh… shh, shh, you gotta shh about the spider deal, I’m your intern, yeah? My name is Peter… Pe – ter.” He emphasized, watching the way Tony was looking at him a little distantly.
“Petey, your name should be Petey… or Spider-Baby.” Peter was quiet for a moment, taken aback by how un-slurred Tony’s words were, if the actual words weren’t so out of the ordinary, he probably could have marched back into the event and given an actual speech without anyone suspecting he was tipsy. “Spiderling baby… protecc the baby,” Tony tipped forward and Peter moved to catch him, assuming he was falling, but found himself caught in a sloppy hug.
“Uhm, Mr. Stark? You uh… you, heh, you just grabbing the door there?” Without technically giving his body permission, Peter melted into the embrace, curling his own arms up and wrapping them around Tony’s waist, squeezing gently and burying his smile as the man began to coo over his hair.
“Curly Spidey-Baby… so much curl, so much fluffy,” Peter laughed as Tony played with his hair, twirling strands around his fingers and muttering different variations of the word’s spider, baby, soft, curly and fluffy.
The car alarm beeped behind them, the lights flashing once as Happy walked up, slowing down as he took in his boss hugging the teenage vigilante and murmuring as he ran fingers through brown hair.
“Uh… kid?” Peter tilted his head, apologising quietly when Tony grumbled about ‘losing the fluffy.’
“Hey Happy, he’s… he’s really drunk.” They both looked to where Tony was beginning to scratch Peter’s head like a cat, continuing to talk to himself.
“Yeah, you think?” Happy helped him get Tony into the backseat rather expertly, and it reminded Peter of the fact that Happy had probably had to do exactly this many, many times before, back when Tony would get drunk at almost every press event. “If there’s anything you’d like to know or ask him and get a straight, no bullshit answer, do it now, ‘cus he’s got no filter.”
Peter met Happy’s eyes in the mirror and he grinned, his mind blurring with every possible thing he had always wanted to know but either never gotten a proper answer, or never bothered to ask.
“Do you actually think I could get into MIT?” Happy rolled his eyes as he started the engine, because of course that was the first question Peter would ask.
“Hell yeah… you probably don’t even need my pull but m’ gonna be writing so many letters of recommendation anyways,” Peter beamed and clipped his own seatbelt in, excitedly thinking of more answers he had always wanted.
“Aw, thanks Mr. Stark. What else do I ask Happy? Uhm… uh –”
“Y’know, you – you – you’re a good kid,” Peter smiled and looked down at his lap. “You’re like if I ever had a kid, you’d be the uh, the kid I’d want if I ever wanted to have a kid like you… to be like you.” Peter mentally tried to work out exactly what Tony had said but it hurt his brain and he gave up after the third time. “Wish you were m’ kid, I like the brains you got.”
“Okay boss, might wanna think before you speak next time, huh? God he’s gonna regret all this tomorrow morning.” Peter closed his mouth from where it was hung open in a small ‘o’ shape. “Hey Tony, why don’t you let Peter know what you did yesterday?” Something lit up in the mechanic’s eyes and he spun in his seat, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and looking at him concentratedly.
“I fixed it, I fixed it and now you’re good. Always good now.” The teen looked back to Happy in the mirror and opened his mouth to ask exactly what Tony was going on about, but the man answered for himself. “I hacked into your school and I watched all of it, then I sent it all to the principal and also some parts to the cops. Don’t do drugs Peter, never do drugs, they were doing drugs. Now they’re going to court and I’m gonna get them in jail for you, then the other one is expelled… I’m gonna protecc.” He leaned over and pulled at Peter’s suit sleeve until he was tucked against his chest. “Spider-Baby too much sacrifice… why don’t you come to me? I’ll always make it better kiddie, m’ Iron Man.” Peter felt hands in his hair again and he wasn’t too upset to admit how good it felt to be held, especially when the person holding you was normally emotionally shut-off from the world.
“Uh… Happy can you translate him, all I got was don’t do drugs and protecc?” Tony was shushing him and running hands through his hair like a makeshift comb.
“We looked into your school’s security footage database and collected aa bunch of clips of those three older jerks who were pushing you around.” Peter swallowed and tensed in Tony’s arms, which only resulted in an increase in the amount of shushing and the hands resorting to all-out petting him like a cat again. “Turns out they’ve been selling some prescription meds to freshmen during exam time, and they thought it was sneaky to do it in the middle of the hallway, which we recorded and sent to the police station anonymously.” Tony nodded in agreeance and continued stroking through Peter’s curls and slurring pet names for the boy.
Happy turned into the garage and switched the engine off before continuing. “And that Flash kid or whatever the hell his name is – he’s getting expelled tomorrow for what they all did during last year’s festival day.” Peter stiffened completely, and Tony picked up on it.
“M’ n’ asshole Petey,” the teen looked down at his feet as his face flushed. “You didn’t wanna tell me. I know m’ weird about stuff, but you c’n always tell me when you’re having problems like that.”
“I don’t think you really realise how bad it got kid, if you didn’t have accelerated healing… a couple of those hits that Flash guy dealt after gym could’ve sent you to hospital.” Peter shrugged and tried not to think about any of them, “no I’m serious Peter, both of us are.”
“You could’ve died last year,” Tony mumbled, “they broke your inhaler.” Peter shuddered at the memory of the plastic crunching under one of the bully’s feet as his own lungs constricted and he gagged on the thick scent of the dumpster which engulfed him. “Why didn’t you tell me when they hurt you, how c’n I protecc if you keep stuff like that from me?”
“I didn’t want to seem like a pathetic kid getting shoved around at school, it didn’t even matter that much. Plus, they would’ve just gone after other kids… people who don’t have super healing.”
Happy opened Tony’s door and helped him out while Peter slipped around the back of the car and slung his mentors’ arm over his shoulder, letting Happy lock the car up.
“You good with getting him upstairs?” Peter nodded and F.R.I.D.A.Y opened the lift for them. “I think you’ve been through enough kid, take a load off, get some well-deserved answers out of him, I swear it’s hilarious.” Happy had a smirk on his face that said he knew what he was talking about and Peter returned it.
“Okay, will do… and um, thank you – seriously, for everything.” Happy nodded, not one to make things overly mushy, and got into his own car to head home for the evening.
----
Tony was lying on his side, under the covers of his bed in the penthouse. Peter had a bowl on standby in case he threw up, a glass of water and tablets for the next morning. He was slouched on the floor, his back leant against the side of the bed while Tony’s hand was lazily carding through his hair.
“So… what else can I ask you?” Tony hummed but otherwise said nothing as Peter thought. “Do you think those guys were picking on me because of something going on with them… or do you think maybe I deserved it?” Tony huffed and the air ruffled Peter’s hair.
“Think they suck,” he said plainly, before softening slightly. “I think whatever was happenin’ in their lives isn’t an excuse for how they treated you. They were mean, they hurt you, made me angry.” Peter smiled slightly at that, liking the way Tony didn’t conceal his protective streak when he lacked a filter. “They could have hurt you bad… what if you didn’t have a backup inhaler last year? You actually could have died… Petey…”
Peter’s eyes widened slightly as he heard a sniffle from the bed, and then two arms were reaching down and pulling him up onto the mattress. Tony wound an arm around the back of his head and held his face against his neck, cradling Peter with more fragility than anyone ever had. “You’re too much… you mean too much, too young for so much shit. M’ sorry, m’ so sorry…” Tony was mumbling, cupping Peter’s head and nuzzling in his curls, whispering softly and promising to be a better mentor. “I didn’t like it, you looked so sad, so hurt. Why do you always cry? I wanna help, lemme help you.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t like it either. All the lights and sounds are too much, and I was always so scared at school. They said mean stuff, and I always feel bad when I cry… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was… pathetic. I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
“But m’ not… I’m always so proud, you’re fifteen and you’re already smarter than me, you’re a superhero and I don’t understand how you always just wanna help people – even the people who are bad to you.” Tony hugged him tighter and Peter briefly wondered exactly how much of everything the mechanic would remember in the morning. “And you’re not pathetic, you had an asthma attack and walked all the way back to your locker during it. You fight with the Avengers even though you’re a soft Spider-Baby. You’re never gon’ be pathetic. Not to me, not to anyone else.”
“Thank you,” Peter said quietly, hugging his mentor back tightly. “You should filter less when you’re sober… it’s nice – you’re nice.”
“Sober Tony’s an asshole,” he grumbled, letting Peter up off the bed.
“Hey Mr. Stark?” Tony looked up from the pillow at Peter who was standing in the doorway. “Can you tell F.R.I.D.A.Y how you’d describe me in five words?” He smiled and walked back to his own room, setting an alarm for the next day.
----
“I can’t believe that jerk spiked my drinks and got me drunk just so he could ruin my public image… stupid bad guys and their stupid motives.”
Peter laughed from the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand as he watched Tony drink his second cup of coffee. “What are you laughing at, what’d I say last night?”
“You told me about how you went through my school’s security footage and got enough evidence to get those guys expelled and sent to court.” Tony nodded tiredly as Peter continued, “and you told me you were proud of me,” his nose scrunched in aversion to the emotions. “And you also cried a tiny bit, I think, when you talked about me dying.”
“What? I talked about you dying? When in the hell did I do that – wait – why in the hell did I do that?” Tony set the coffee machine on to make a third cup and took Peter’s finished cereal bowl to the sink before turning around and quirking his eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“When I had an asthma attack last year, you were making a point, saying what could have happened if I didn’t have my backup inhaler in my locker.”
He could still remember the panic when his throat began to close up and the tears that blurred his vision when one of Flash’s friends stepped on the inhaler as they all scurried away from where he was on his hands and knees, pulling at his shirt collar as if it were the thing choking him.
“Oh… okay then, what else?”
Tony must have known from the small smile on Peter’s face that he had done something embarrassing because he sighed and started working through his third cup of coffee.
“Hey F.R.I? Can you play the clip we took from last night?” Tony rolled his eyes at Peter and then the ceiling, as if the A.I knew that the gesture meant he was unimpressed.
“I swear if I made another drunk sex tape –”
“Ew! Mr. Stark that’s so gross,” Tony waved him off with a hand and a laugh, knowing exactly what made the teen wrinkle his face in disgust.
“Playing audio clip from four thirty-two am – You listen here F.R.I, Peter is a soft, fluffy Spider-Baby and you need to make me drink more often so I can touch his curls!”
“You can shut your face hole mister, stop laughing, I was so clearly plastered.” Peter snickered, and Tony looked accusingly at the ceiling, “delete clip.”
“Are you sure you would like to delete this audio recording from four thirty-t –”
“No,” Tony sighed heavily as he looked into Peter’s hazel eyes which were lit up with laughter. “No, just… save it to ‘put it on the fridge’ protocol.”
Peter laughed even harder and Tony took the moment to ruffle his curls affectionately as he walked past. “Just as a heads-up kiddo, drunk Tony has no filter, and that means everything from last night was straight up raw information, no lies.”
Peter smiled softly.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”