Tuesday Night
“Morning sleepy,” Tony smiled into his coffee mug as Peter slid into the chair next to him and rested his forehead against the countertop tiredly. The kid’s bedhead was insane, his curls were kinked and wild, splayed out across his head like an adorable halo. “I’m guessing you slept well then?” Peter made a noise that sounded like both a hum and a yawn in reply. “Jeez, you really are sleepy, aren’t you?” He reached over and ran his fingers through the matted curls, containing his smile when Peter rolled into the touch happily. “So, when are the rest of the dwarves coming over?”
“Hm?” The teen turned so his cheek was squashed against the bench and he could open an eye and raise an eyebrow at Tony curiously.
“Seven dwarves, you’re Sleepy, it’s a Disney reference kid.” Peter nodded slowly, recognition dawning in his still sleep-glazed eyes.
“Oh, mhm, what’s that make you then?” He sat up and twisted a finger into the handle of Tony’s coffee mug, which had been sitting, empty, on the bench. “Probably Doc right, cus you’re so smart?”
“We still on about that huh?” He stood with the smile still playing at his lips as he pulled a packet from the top of the cupboard. “Okay, two things,” he set the packet down in front of Peter and leant on his elbows, “what do you think about that, and, I officially change your dwarf name to bashful.” The teen read the packet, it was a pre-made box of pancake batter, all they needed was an egg and milk.
“I think it looks great, I’ll help if you want,” he beamed up at Tony who was cutting the bag open with scissors and pouring it into a bowl. “Wait, why am I bashful?” He narrowed his eyes and fiddled with the empty packet while Tony hummed.
“Y’know Pete…” he pulled an egg from the fridge and cracked it messily with one hand as he spoke, “your bedhead curls are very cute.”
“I – they – they’re c – cute? I, um…” he ran his hands through his hair in a fruitless attempt to un-muss them and wrangle the curls into place. A pink tint coloured his cheeks and spread across his nose which Tony poked with the back of a spoon.
“See?” He pointed out, as if Peter knew what he was going on about, “you’re blushing now, it’s bashful.” The mechanic set the spoon down and smiled at the boy with a look that said ‘I’m right, and you know it.’
“I… why are you always right?” Peter complained, but there was no denying the smile that was spreading across his face too. He stood up and Tony slid the bowl over to him, his heart fluttering when Peter didn’t tense up as the bowl drifted into his hands. The teen merely picked up a spoon and began stirring, stepping fully around the edge of the counter so he was stood next to Tony. “Um… Mister Stark?” He froze for a moment from where he was measuring the milk and put it down beside him, swivelling to fully face Peter who stopped stirring for a moment.
“Kid?” He squinted, wordlessly trying to figure out what the sudden name switch was all about.
“I – uh… s – sorry, must be r – really tired, I meant to say T – Tony then.” He rubbed the back of his neck and then proceeded to fidget with his hands nervously. “Tony?”
“Yeah kiddo, what’s up?” He reached up and twirled a stray curl around one finger, sensing Peter needed the contact to help him get whatever question he was trying to ask out.
“Did you… did you really mean it, w – when you said you enjoyed the calls?” Tony picked the measuring cup of milk back up and slowly began to pour it into the bowl.
“Yeah buddy, I really did,” he gave Peter a smile and ruffled his hair fondly, nudging the spoon back into his hand to prompt him to start stirring the mixture again. “I think we should keep that up,” he said casually, putting a pan on the stove and pressing some buttons to pull it up to the right heat. “The calls I mean,” he continued, pulling butter out of the fridge and cutting some small pieces up to grease the pan.
“That wouldn’t… p – put you out or anything?” Peter asked hesitantly, moving the batter next to the pan.
“Nope,” Tony assured, popping the ‘p’ in emphasis. “Kid, when it comes to you and having issues, it’s better if you just talk them out, gimme a call. Because when you try and bottle stuff, it all builds up,” he turned to face Peter, tapping his forehead knowingly, “and that’s when you end up walking three hours, passing out in my lab and giving me a heart attack.” The teen shuffled awkwardly, opening his mouth to, presumably, apologise for the hundredth time. “Before you say anything,” Tony protested, dropping a hand to his shoulder and looking at him sincerely, “know that you don’t need to say sorry, and that it’s just something to know for next time.” He shrugged calmly and leant around Peter to pour some of the mixture onto the pan, which was now very hot.
“N – next time?” The boy asked softly, looking up through his lashes at Tony while he slid the edge of the spatula under the goldening pancake.
“Well, yeah. I just figured, next time there’s something you want to talk about, or you’re having issues with… just talk to me,” he shot a sideways glance at Peter while he flipped the pancake. There was something in that glance, a way that Tony’s lip twitched, a particular flicker in his eyes that seemed to be urging him to do something, say something.
“I… d – do you… what are you saying?” He hummed idly, slipping the pancake onto a plate and covering it with tinfoil to keep the warmth while Peter played with the sleeves of his hoodie.
“So, interesting story, I had a chat with May yesterday…” the teen looked up at him with huge doe eyes, it made him look almost more vulnerable then he must have already felt. “She mentioned that maybe there was something you might wanna tell me?”
Oh god, he knew, he knew, heknowsheknows, heknowsaboutCarter…
“Uhm, I – I don’t… m’ not sure, s – sorry.” His fidgeting had increased, and Peter had never been the best at keeping things hidden, there were multiple occasions when the kid had spilled good news to him days in advance. When he got a scholarship to Midtown School of Science and Technology, Tony knew about it early, when he won an award, Tony knew early, history repeated itself and now it was mildly concerning that Peter was beginning to make a habit of bottling things up.
“May seemed to hint it wasn’t a bad thing? She implied it was something good, don’t leave me hanging kiddo,” he smiled lightly, flipping the last pancake onto a plate and putting them down on the bench after turning the oven off.
“Oh, a – a good thing? Uh, I – I don’t really… know what she mea –”
“C’mon kid, what’d ya do, win another science fair, ace a pop quiz, come top in –” Peter’s phone buzzed from beside them and the teen startled, jumping back and into the counter. “Careful ki –” He was cut off when Peter yelped before covering his mouth and faking a cough as he rubbed his side gingerly. “Hey Peter, you good?” He moved forward to steady the boy, but he stepped backwards, closer to his still buzzing phone but further away from Tony.
He knows about Carter, he knows you lied, he hates you, you betrayed him, you let someone hurt you and you lied about it.
“S – s – sorry, I uh, I – I need to…” he glanced down at his phone and Ned’s contact photo was lighting up the screen.
“Yeah, hey no, that’s cool.” They stared at each other for a minute before Tony nodded to the phone, “take it kid, seriously it’s fine.” He could see as Peter swallowed thickly, then he was snatching up the phone and hitting answer as he walked around the corner, shoving shaking hands away from Tony’s sight and into his pockets.
----
“Peter, where have you been?” He winced as Ned’s voice came out loud through the speaker, Peter adjusted the volume and held the phone against his ear.
“Oh, school, y – yeah listen, I’m sorry I didn’t text to say I wasn’t gonna be there yesterday or toda –”
“No, it’s cool man, I don’t care about that, I was just kinda worried about you.” Peter frowned in confusion and checked to see if Tony was still in the kitchen before he rubbed his side and winced painfully at his aggravated bruises. “I was gonna borrow your gym top and show coach, so I could say it shrunk in the wash, cus then he’d let me go study for a period…” Peter bit his lip and leant his forehead against a doorframe, knowing exactly what Ned was about to say. “I got it from your locker and there was like… there was like a stain on the inside.” He screwed his face up and bit the side of his thumb nervously, “Peter, was that – it looked like blood?”
Carter’s hands shoving him forward, his feet catching on the rug so he tumbled towards the ground, the edge of the coffee table tearing an angry gash over his side. Blood.
“Ned look, I – I know it kinda seems weird b – but May was washing and she, uh, she –” he fumbled with his words, chewing the inside of his cheek as his mind ran in circles. What looks like blood? What looks like blood? What looks like blood?
“Peter?”
“May l – left lipstick in her pants and when they went through the dryer it – it melted over the inside of my shirt, it, uh, it stained even after I w – washed it out.” There was a long pause that was filled with Peter silently begging Ned to take the excuse while simultaneously hating himself for thickening the blanket of lies he had begun spreading ever since Carter had stepped into his life.
“May doesn’t wear lipstick,” Ned pointed out matter-of-factly.
“N – no, she didn’t, but uh… h – her boyfriend got her some,” he whispered, tears prickling behind his eyes. He felt sick calling Carter ‘May’s boyfriend.’ He didn’t want to think about him at all, he didn’t want to give the man any sort of role in their lives, he didn’t want the person abusing him to have a new label. Because then the label stuck to him too.
Peter was being beaten by ‘May’s boyfriend.’
“May has a boyfriend? When did that happen?” Ned didn’t sound accusatory or worried anymore, he sounded genuinely curious.
“Uh, y – yeah, a while back. H – his name’s Carter,” he muttered, barely audible as his throat constricted.
I don’t wanna talk about him, I don’t wanna talk about him.
“Oh, is he cool at least?” The silent pause following Ned’s question seemed to be answer enough. “I’m sorry Peter, I know that must be… weird adjusting to, you can always come over to my place if he’s staying the night or you just wanna get time out of the apartm –”
“He stays the night every night Ned, he – he moved in ages ago.” Peter furiously wiped the tears that were threatening to spill and berated himself for acting so stupid. He knew that this was his life now, Carter had moved in a long time ago and it shouldn’t be making him this upset, but it was, and that’s what he hated most.
He felt like he was crying like a child.
“That… that was fast I guess?” There was a lull in the conversation and Peter felt like throwing up and sinking into the wall. “It’s not like he’s gonna replace Tony or anything.” Ned’s statement caught him off guard and he sucked in a confused breath.
“What do you mean replace?”
“Just, I mean like… you always talk about Tony and you two are really close and all that, he’s – well you’ve never said it but he’s kinda like a Dad to you already.” Peter choked on air and slipped his face from the wall hurriedly.
“W – what, no? I never – he’s not… w – w – what do you mean he’s like a D –”
“Peter you’re so see-through man,” Ned chuckled and somehow, it made him feel better. “Him and May totally co-parent you,” Ned was laughing now, and Peter was smiling too.
“Ew Ned, gross, I don’t wanna picture… that.”
“Oh, ew no, no, no, gross Peter, I don’t mean like Mister Stark and May, blargh. I mean like they totally tag-team parent you.” There was another pause, but it didn’t feel crippling like the last one, it was easy, like the suspension before the joke was made. “Okay that made it sound even worse – but you get what I mean!”
“Ned that’s gross! Don’t ever use that in a sentence again, ever.” He giggled, and he could hear Ned’s laughter coming through the speaker. “I mean, I get what you’re saying but… I just, it’s not like I could say it… I – I think May blabbed on me though.”
“Oh, about that ‘father-figure’ thing you said when you were lik –”
“Ned, shh! He’s like two rooms over,” he hissed quietly, rolling his eyes when all Ned did was laugh even louder.
“Ugh, you’re so weird man. Okay, I gotta go to English or I’ll need a hall pass to get there, talk later!” He said goodbye and pocketed his phone, sighing to himself and wandering back into the kitchen where Tony was finishing the last of his plate and scrolling through his phone.
“Hey kid,” he said, glancing up at him and pushing his plate over. “Eat, we leave in a couple hours for your place.” Peter sat next to him and started chewing, he knew they tasted good, he had eaten pre-mixed pancakes before, but his tongue was only registering cardboard flavour when he could see Tony eyeing him cautiously, analytically. “You okay? How’s your side?”
“It, uh y – yeah, it’s fine. I was – I just didn’t except th – the phone to ring.”
I thought you knew about Carter, I thought you were going to push me away, I thought you’d hate me.
“Pete, you’re a good kid,” his hand slipped to the nape of the teen’s neck and he squeezed reassuringly. “But you gotta work on not being so high-strung all the time, you’re too jumpy for your own good,” he moved his hand to momentarily ruffle the kid’s hair before he was placing Peter’s dish into the sink for later and pushing him off to the bathroom. “Leaving in just over an hour,” he called out before rubbing his face and making a second cup of coffee.
----
“Hey sweetie,” Tony watched as Peter let May pull him into a hug, his chin dropped to her shoulder almost immediately, and it was more obvious from an outsider’s point of view, but he could clearly see the way Peter’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed in her arms. He made a mental note to allow himself to be more affectionate with the kid from now on, seeing as physical comfort seemed to unwind his tenseness. “How was spending the night at Tony’s, you didn’t just eat pizza?” May’s fingers ran up into the front of Peter’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead as she leant back to fully look at him.
“N – no, we had normal stuff,” the boy looked back at him and he shot a kind smile just to see the way his lips curled upward in response. “Tony makes good sandwiches,” he smiled wider as Peter’s high praise warmed his chest.
“Well I don’t like the idea of private chefs and there’s always too much bread lying around.” He stepped closer to the two and felt Peter’s elbow brushing his own lightly, “we had a big brunch, so I’ll grab Thai for dinner, as a thanks for letting me hang around for movie night.” Tony bumped the teen’s hand and smiled as he pulled his own cell out and dialled the regular place he knew the small family used. “We want sticky rice pudding people?” He held a hand over the receiver and raised his eyebrows in question.
“I – I don’t mind either wa –”
“I think skipping school isn’t exactly deserving of sticky rice pudding.” If Tony hadn’t stepped away to make the phone call, he would have felt Peter tensing up and flinching on instinct as Carter walked into the living room, rubbing the back of his head with a towel to dry it as if he had only just gotten out of the shower. Apart from his wet hair, he looked put together, and he leant over to press a kiss to May’s forehead. “Morning,” he said to her sweetly, Peter wanted to hide away in his room almost as much as he wanted to cry.
“Its almost four-thirty in the afternoon,” Tony said, not coldly, but not far from it either. “Peter wasn’t skipping, we called the school to let them know he would be there, so it wasn’t skipping, it was taking a day off.” Carter looked like he wanted to argue, but Tony turned back to the phone and listed off the order he knew off by heart by now, paused for a moment, then looked to May and Peter. “They want to know if we’re having anything else,” he said pointedly, deliberately not glancing at Carter who was gripping the towel tighter.
“Well, honey,” May turned to Carter, “I think because we never got a chance to have a dinner as reward for Pete winning the science fair, maybe we should grab some just for tonight.”
He’s going to hurt me, he’s going to hurt me so much I’ll just throw it all up again anyway.
For a moment, Peter felt the desperate need to squeeze his eyes shut as he waited for Carter to either start yelling, hitting him or arguing more. He bit back a surprised squeak when the man smiled almost lightly and nodded with May in agreeance.
“Yeah, that’s only fair,” he rubbed May’s shoulder warmly and watched as Tony finished the order, complete with the sticky rice pudding, and put the phone back in his pocket. He looks almost wary, his eyes flicked to Peter’s face and his unease melted, stepping to his side once more, unconsciously putting himself between the boy and everyone else in the room.
“They said it’d be ready for pickup between five and five thirty, you wanna walk with me to pick it up kid?” Peter smiled softly and opened his mouth to answer, but Carter was moving forward in front of him, bringing the four of them in an almost-circle, May opposite Tony and beside Carter, who was now standing across from Peter.
“Actually, I was thinking I could walk with the kid to get it, I’m not staying for the movie, I have work.” He rocked on his feet calmly while Peter was internally shutting down, his mind screaming to clutch Tony’s wrist for comfort but his body staying frozen in fear at the suggestion. “Just thought it’d be good to stretch my legs before I have to sit in a chair for hours.”
“I thought you said you were working?” Tony looked to May, but she was smiling to Peter happily, glad to see that Carter was at least making an effort to spend time with him. “What is it that you do again?” He asked sceptically, not wanting anyone to take time away from him and Peter but trying to stay calm because rationally he knew it was less than a fifteen-minute walk.
“Security, night shifts, all I have to do is sit in a chair and watch the cams for anything, so yeah, sitting for hours is my job.” Carter’s façade of niceties was being broken down by Tony’s unrelenting paranoia, but little did he know it was fully justified.
“Right, well it’s not up to us,” his hand found the back of Peter’s neck once more and he circled his fingers lazily along the teen’s shoulders comfortingly. Carter’s eyes drifted to the hand and while Peter caught the warning behind the gaze that reminded him of what happened when he spent time with Tony, the mechanic himself was preoccupied looking down at the boy to check in.
“Oh, for crying out loud we still have half an hour, let’s at least sit and get drinks sorted.” May turned, ever the peacemaker, and walked to the kitchen, pulling glasses out of a cupboard and nodding her head for everyone to follow. Tony and Carter hesitated for the briefest of moments, the almost unnoticeable tension unpacking for a moment before Peter’s foot shifted awkwardly and it seemed to snap them out of it.
“Sounds great,” Carter called to May as the three moved to join her at the table. “We went shopping this morning, while you were out playing hooky,” he threw over his shoulder, grinning in a way that made Peter think he knew he was pushing Tony’s buttons. “May found some new stuff she’d love you to try with her, and I got myself something I’m sure a man like you would appreciate,” his gaze fell on Tony and Peter felt his heart stuttering.
Logically, he knew Carter wasn’t reckless or rage-driven enough to ever try anything in front of May or Tony, but the thought of Carter willingly offering the billionaire something made his chest burn with anxiety and the familiar pressing weight. He watched the man pulling two bottles out of the fridge and setting them at the table, they were brown-tinted glass and all the labels had been peeled off. The missing labels made Peter’s mind flick back to all the ‘Stranger Danger’ talks he had been given at school, and one of the things the teachers had always said was ‘don’t accept food or drink from someone if it’s been opened or the original packaging is missing.’
“Why’d you peel the labelling off?” Tony was a genius, and Peter almost cried at the relief when he remembered how perceptive the man was, but he shoved the feeling down and let out a shaky sigh which hopefully went unnoticed.
“I didn’t, it’s a buddy’s from work, he does home-brewing as a hobby. Real piece of work, drunk half the time, I’m surprised he hasn’t been fired yet.” Peter could feel Tony’s hand on his shoulder tightening minutely in protection, he leant into it slightly. “Regardless, he makes a few good ones, but this is the best,” he leant over and put a bottle in the hand that wasn’t on Peter’s shoulder, smirking at Tony. “He ups the APV so that right there,” he tapped the bottle proudly, “is equivalent of about three standard drinks.”
Peter can see Tony’s jaw clenching as he put the bottle back down on the table, a look of disinterest on his face which made Peter think back to all the times Carter had looked at him in disgust when he babbled about the projects he worked on in the workshop.
“Thanks, but I’m driving home,” Tony pressed tightly, eyeing the way Carter was raising an eyebrow and popping the cap of his own drink with a hiss.
“Couldn’t you just call yourself a suit,” Carter scoffed, his lip beginning to curl upward in a way that was edging towards what Peter recognised as a sneer. He was eyeing the watch on Tony’s wrist; the display was light blue and similar to the one he had crushed under his fist on Peter’s fourteenth birthday.
“If I wanted to, I could have a suit here in less than ten minutes,” Tony bit, his free hand lifting up to Peter’s opposite elbow to gently guide him across the kitchen towards May while he fixed Carter with a glower that scratched the surface of what Peter imagined after almost every beating.
The familiar flash of red and gold kicking down his door and ripping Carter off him before Tony stepped out of the suit and pulled him close comfortingly.
“May?” He asked tentatively, shuffling forward but not enough that Tony’s protective hand fell away from his shoulder. She turned to him and her eyes twinkled as her lips grew to another knowing smile when she saw Tony’s hand resting on his arm, he fought the blush that crept from his ears down towards his cheeks. “Uh, d – did you go to that special health store w – with the fancy juices?” She smiled wider at him and tilted two bottles of name-brand juice that she had always wanted to try towards him.
“You should’ve seen them all, there were full aisles stocked with just these, there were so many colours!” She beamed and ran a finger under his chin affectionately, he grinned back at her. May was so happy, her job and Carter’s income were having an impact on their groceries, the heater was on more, he hadn’t seen watered down soap in months. “Okay, peach, guava and kiwifruit, or apple, mango and blackcurrant?” He looked at the two bottles and pointed to the pinkish hued one.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had guava before,” he said quietly, reaching out for the glass with a smile despite the churning feeling in his stomach.
He didn’t dislike it when May was happy as she was able to spend more money on higher quality items, it validated him in a way, it made him feel like he was doing the right thing by taking Carter’s abuse. But on the other end of the scale, it just further emphasised how he had to continue taking the abuse, because without it, May wouldn’t be this happy. It was bittersweet and tilting towards bitter each time he was shoved against a wall or slammed against his desk.
He took a small sip and nodded gratefully, “it’s really nice May, thank you.” She smiled and petted his cheek appreciatively.
“Always good manners, so sweet,” she cooed, watching him smile at his feet shyly. “You wanna put these on the table for Tony and I, then maybe take this one to –” She leaned past him and Tony to see Carter on the couch in the living room, sipping his drink and watching T.V, he noticed her brow twitch and he wondered if she were bothered by his behaviour. “You mind taking the last one over to him?” He nodded meekly, taking two glasses and setting them at the table before picking up the last one and trying not to start visibly trembling when Tony’s comforting hand dropped from his shoulder and he realised he needed to walk the drink over to Carter by himself. “Thanks honey,” May called from behind him, he blew a breath and told himself the man wasn’t going to do anything when Tony and May had clear vision of them both.
“Uh, M – May said to give th – this to you…” he said faintly, putting the glass down on the coffee table in front of Carter.
“Tell Tony you want to pick the food up with me, unless you want me to accidentally crack his watch too.” His eyes stayed forward on the T.V screen, he didn’t even glance up at Peter when he leant over to set the drink down. The man’s voice was low, so low that there was no chance anyone but them could have heard what he said, and his lips didn’t move so obviously either, he spoke right before the beer bottle was brought to his lips, the perfect way to cover the fact that he had even said a word in the first place. “Thanks Pete!” He said at a volume slightly over normal, making sure May and Tony heard and saw the smile on his face.
Cracking Tony’s watch might have sounded like a heatless threat, considering the man was a billionaire and could probably upgrade the thing at the wave of a hand, but that night had been so much more than just a broken watch to him.
It was the all-consuming fear that had made him cower away submissively, it was the first time he had to wear long sleeves to hide the hand and nail marks that had marred his skin. He still remembered the gut-wrenching terror as a palm clapped over his face to roughly silence his sobs and whimpers. He could not and would not, let Tony experience even a fraction of the things he dealt with, not when he had already done so much for him.
The mechanic had picked up every late-night call after a beating, had run a ginger, concerned hand over every injury he hadn’t been able to hide, he soothed the panic attack, he cooked, and he let down his walls and gave him someone to cling onto. There was no universe in which Peter would let Tony take even a single shove if he could prevent it in any way, so he would relent and do what Carter wanted if it meant Tony was safe.
He barely contained a yelp as Carter patted his arm as if in appreciation, but to Peter, it felt more like a deliberate slap on a barely faded bruise that he had dealt the boy several days ago. “If you really want to take a walk with Stark, maybe May can take your punishment while you’re out.” His eyes prickled, and he could feel the last remainder of his blush fading away as the rest of the colour in his face drained. He wanted to scream that no, no he wouldn’t walk with Tony. No May wouldn’t be hurt because of him, but Peter’s breath caught on an airy inhale of fright and he momentarily froze before he forced his legs to move away from the threat and back into the shelter of the kitchen, where May and Tony were still standing, leant against the bench.
The bench his head had been slammed on and body thrown against multiple times.
May’s left arm rested over the spot where Peter was sure he had once wiped away his own blood stain before.
“You okay kiddo?” Tony asked, concern radiating through his voice and curling towards Peter in tendrils he desperately wanted to hide away in. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out and he felt his throat constricting as he struggled to process any words to use. “Hey,” Tony said softly, putting his glass down on the bench behind him and reaching his arm out to brush Peter’s shoulder, “why don’t we go take a look at those homework questions you were telling me about earlier?” At first, Peter blanked, he hadn’t talked to Tony about any questions today, he didn’t even have homework.
While Tony gently ushered him out of the kitchen and back into the living room, towards the hallway to his room, it did click. He had recognised the obvious distress in Peter’s face and he was creating an out, a small excuse for them to step back and take a breather.
They walked past the couch and once Tony was past the doorway, Peter looked up to see Carter tapping his wrist implicitly, a tiny smirk on his face that made Peter swallow dryly and stumble forward past the doorframe, so he couldn’t even see the man anymore. He bumbled down the hall and reached out, clutching Tony’s hand on instinct and tugging the man into his room before shutting the door behind them.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I –” He crashed against Tony’s chest and pulled his arms around his waist as the mechanic began to rub his shoulders and back gently. “M’ sorry, I – I didn’t… I – I didn’t –”
“Shh, hey, nothing to apologise for kiddo. Just take a breath and forget everything else for now,” he ran a hand through Peter’s curls and lightly rested his chin atop them while he listened to the boy’s breathing slow from uneven gasps to gulps and finally back down to regular inhales that rose his chest evenly from where it was rested against Tony’s. “You feel like taking a walk?” He asked calmly, still rubbing circles over Peter’s upper back.
Yes, there was nothing more in the world that he wanted right now than to take a walk, away from the apartment, away from Carter, alone with Tony who lifted the weight off him.
But the thought of May with a bruised cheek and Tony with nail marks up his arm wasn’t bearable. How could he ever let that happen to them, the two people who were there for him the most, the ones who carded fingers through his hair and traced patterns on his back so that everything felt okay.
“Tony… I – I want to, I – I do,” the mechanic was nodding slowly from where his chin was still rested on Peter’s head. “B – but I just…” he blew out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against Tony’s chest. “M’ just s – scared,” he admitted with a soft mumble.
“What are you scared of buddy, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s up, okay?” Tony backed them up to the bed and sat down slowly so Peter could keep his arms wrapped around his torso in search of comfort. He swirled his free hand through the teen’s curls and continued patting his back lightly, he wanted the boy to understand he was there for him, he wanted Peter to know how much he cared about him and in a way, he wanted to tell him the truth.
There had always been the fear in his head and heart, he had always watched those brown eyes looking up at him, shining with adoration and shyness as he stumbled over his words but smiled all the same. Tony had always wanted to be closer to Peter, he had always pictured telling him, honestly, how he had met Mary then spent the next four years completely unaware that there was a curly-haired, doe-eyed kid, stumbling around Queens with his blood and his brains. He had always wanted to call the boy his kid and not just think it in his own head, he wanted Peter to know.
But what was more important to him, their relationship, or the label of father and son?
Tony looked down at the teen pressed against his side, face buried into his chest, he watched his own hand running through the chestnut curls in a motion he had become increasingly familiar with the past few months. He stayed quiet for a few more minutes, content to offer affection for the kid while he conjured up the courage to talk about what was scaring him.
“I – I’m scared of you getting hurt,” Peter said quietly. For once he had been honest, but it wouldn’t last long as the white noise of whatever T.V show Carter was watching from the living room filtered into his awareness and he contained a shudder.
“Why would I get hurt Pete?” He was keeping his voice even and calm for the kid, but he had no idea what had set him off or what he meant by ‘getting hurt.’ Was someone threatening him?
“Like Ben,” the boy whispered almost inaudibly. “I’m scared of w – walking to get Thai with you, b – because of what happened last time…”
Oh. Oh.
“Aw Pete,” he dropped his chin, so his forehead rested against the crown of the teen’s head and he hugged the kid even closer. “That’s not going to happen buddy, I wouldn’t let that happen,” he promised into the soft curls.
“I – I think m – maybe I should… I should just go with Carter.”
You can’t get hurt, you mean too much, and I can’t lose my Dad, not after Ben, not after Richard. Not with May left alone in the apartment with Carter.
Tony wrinkled his nose despite himself and bit the inside of his cheek as he watched Peter shuffle awkwardly until he was looking up at him.
“Kid, I… I don’t know, you’re already upset, and I can just drive to pick it up with you and… you know Carter’s been drinking,” he brushed a knuckle over Peter’s cheekbone concernedly and dropped his face seriously. “Is he… do you like him?” The teen blanched, his lips parting before closing again while he thought.
“I – I… he… he makes May happy,” Tony quirked his brow and Peter sighed, knowing the mechanic wasn’t going to accept his poor attempt to dance around the question. “I don’t know… I don’t know how to feel about him. H – he makes May happy, he doesn’t act like he’s trying to b – be a father, he isn’t… he’s nothing like Ben and – and he’s… nothing like you.” Peter looked down at his lap and Tony could see the pink hue growing on his ears.
“Does that upset you?” Tony prompted, letting his hand from Peter’s back drop to his own lap so they were simply sitting beside each other, the teen’s shoulder leant against his side comfortingly.
“D – does what upset me?”
“That he’s been living with you for over a year now and he isn’t making an effort to get closer to you. Do you want him to act like a father?” Peter continued to look at the floor.
“No…” he said honestly.
I’m happy with you filling that gap. I just want you, I don’t want him at all, I just need you to be there.
“So, he doesn’t act like a parent, but does he do anything else?” Peter shook his head vehemently, “okay… even when he drinks? He’s never said or done anything that made you uncomfortable at all?” He swallowed through the lump and shook his head again.
“H – he doesn’t normally drink, he just… it’s just h – hard to talk to him sometimes, b – because we don’t like the same things or really have a – anything in common.” Peter twitched his hands and stared at them intently as he spoke, “he’s just not as easy t – to talk to as you I guess.” His cheeks were pink now, but the corner of Tony’s mouth curved upwards.
“Bashful,” he hummed, twisting to his side so he could let Peter lean into his chest. “Can you take your phone with you please? Carter’s had the equivalent of three beers and I don’t know if he’s a lightweight or not, so just to be on the safe side.” Peter squeezed closer and smiled into Tony’s shoulder even as he heard May calling from the kitchen. “C’mon then squirt, you need to eat, and I need some crappy takeaways, let’s go,” he lets Peter stand from the bed first, watching him for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t staggering on his feet, before opening the door and walking down the hall.
May and Carter were sat at the table. “I made the order under the name Parker, call me if they messed it up,” he looked to Peter, who was pocketing his phone, and the teen saw the underlying message clearly. Call me if you need me.
“I think we’re fine walking fifteen minutes picking up Chinese,” Carter said, putting his now empty beer bottle aside and walking over to the door, swinging his keys round one finger.
“Thai, we ordered Thai.” Tony said without any humour in his voice, eyeing Carter before looking to Peter as his hard gaze softened.
“Sure. The drink is still in the fridge if you finally decide to change your mind,” Carter reminded with a chuckle that Peter didn’t register as friendly. Tony fixed the man with an unimpressed look and folded his arms, resisting the urge to bite back or comment on how he had practically drunk three beers before leaving for work. “We’re going Peter,” he said stiffly, beginning to walk down to the elevator without bothering to cast a look back to make sure the boy was following him.
He wouldn’t have had to check, Peter would follow him around like a kicked puppy if it meant May and Tony stayed safe.
And they needed to stay safe.
Peter paused beside him as they waited for the elevator, Carter stayed dead silent, no eye contact, no movement. The doors pinged as they opened, and Peter felt himself tensing up as he thought about being shut in an enclosed space with the man who regularly threatened and beat him. “Hurry up. Move.” Carter said suddenly, jerking his head and watching with narrowed eyes as the teen silently shuffled into the elevator, eyes on the ground as he denied the temptation of jumping back out the doors before they closed and running back into Tony’s arms. The metal slid shut and there was a second ping before they were descending. Peter had pushed himself as far into the corner opposite Carter as possible, and it took him all of two seconds after the elevator doors closed to realise exactly why that was a horrible idea.
Carter caged him in, arms coming up to grip the railings on either side of his now trembling body as the man leered down at him, teeth grinding together hatefully as he eyed him up dangerously. “You think crawling to Stark was gonna prevent your punishment huh?” His arms slid down the railings until he was gripping both of Peter’s shoulders with intent to put bruises on top of bruises.
The teen couldn’t help the pathetic squeak that escaped his lips, and he hated himself for not bottling his sounds of terror up, because all they ever seemed to do was encourage Carter. “Yeah, well it’s done nothing but make it worse for you, brat.” The man’s lips peeled back into a snarl as his fingers dug in excruciatingly over old wounds and his foot shot out to connect with his shin, tugging a pained yelp from Peter in the process.
A fist drove into his stomach and he wheezed as the air was knocked from his lungs while he curled in on himself and hunched over his torso protectively. Carter only barked a clipped laugh through his bared teeth and used Peter’s bent over form to his advantage as he gripped the chestnut curls and shoved his head back into the mirror on the wall. The sound of the glass warping in warning didn’t help to drown out Peter’s soft, hurt whimper as the elevator slowed to a stop.
Carter pushed off him immediately and walked out of the small space, leaving Peter to trail behind him with a slight limp as he visibly tried to calm his too-rapid panting and contain his pained winces as he struggled to keep up with the man.
The streets weren’t completely dark out yet, but there were less pedestrians getting home from work and more shady characters lurking in alleys and stomping out pungent cigarettes. “Come on,” Carter hissed aggressively, fisting a handful of his loose hoodie and tugging him forward sharply as he stumbled over his own feet.
“I – I’m sorry I di –”
“Shut. It.” He growled lowly, his fingers tightening until nails dug at the back of Peter’s neck and he gasped shakily as he tripped over uneven pavement. The sheer force of the grip kept him upright as he scrambled to get his feet back underneath him. “You don’t get to say anything because you chose to run off to Stark’s ivory tower and hide away there. You knew the punishment was coming and you ran away like the pathetic baby you are.” Peter sniffled while Carter yanked him across the crosswalk, ignoring the way he tried to meet the eyes of the taxi drivers waiting for them to cross. He whined when he was jerked over the curb and almost tripped once again, his shin throbbing in a dull ache each time his feet met the pavement. “First you say you don’t care about punishments, then you run away like a five-year-old and have the nerve to bring Stark back to the apartment and cling to him like you’re his boy-toy.”
Peter gaped and proceeded to catch his shoe on a rubbish bag as they passed, when Carter growled angrily and dragged him back to his feet, his palms were skinned, and he wiped them on his pants, wincing as dirt and gravel fell away from the raw skin. His stomach churned at the implications of Carters words ‘boy-toy.’
Sure, the man would continually belittle and insult him, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before from Flash. The beer seemed to have lubricated Carters spiel of insults and his tongue was loose enough to hurl that degrading title at Peter.
“I – I’m not his bo –”
“No, this is when you shut your fucking mouth,” Carter spat angrily, hauling him past closed stores and dark alleys before the glorious sign of the Thai restaurant was in sight. “Disgusting, you look like a filthy runaway,” Peter felt Carters hands shoving him to the side and down an alleyway, behind a dumpster before he was being pressed chest first into a dirty wall and his neck was exposed as his hair was yanked backward so Carter could speak directly into his ear. Foul breath that lingered with alcohol fanned across his cheek and he held his breath in distaste while he felt the grimy wall beneath his cheek. “Stay here till I’m back with the food,” his hand dipped and despite himself, Peter inhaled sharply through his nose as he froze up. Carters fingers pulled his phone out of his front pocket before there was a rough elbow in the small of his back and he wailed at the bruising force of it. “Don’t. Move.” He felt the pressure against his spine release and then heard footsteps walking back out to the street and turning away to get the food.
Peter sighed brokenly, sniffling again as he stepped away from the wall and dumpster, hoping to preserve his clothing so he didn’t have to explain himself to May and Tony once they got back. He stood silently for a few minutes, wishing Carter hadn’t taken his phone. He froze when a small group of men stumbled past the alleyway, obviously drunk, one of them met his eye and jeered loudly.
“Heyyy baby doll! Need a little company down there?” The man hiccupped and walked into the back of his friend who turned to look at who the attention was for. By now it was dark, and Peter was fairly certain they couldn’t see his face from the darkness in the alley, he assumed they didn’t at least, or they were willingly catcalling a fourteen-year-old boy.
“Looking for a customer so you can get on your kneeeees for me baby?” Peter felt his face burn in shame and humiliation as he turned away from the men who were still hooting and whistling at him while they walked past the alleyway. He felt hot tears threatening to spill as one of them made a crude gesture with his hand and mouth that almost made Peter want to crawl into the dumpster. Another made explicit moaning sounds at him until a slightly less drunk friend slapped his head and tugged him further down the street, away from the alleyway as he yelled something about missing their taxi.
Peter wiped his nose with his sleeve and rubbed his eyes to rid the sensation of spilling tears as he retreated back behind the dumpster and out of sight. He crouched down so he was completely absorbed in the darkness of the shadows that leaked from the dumpster and stayed silent until he heard footsteps and stiffened back up.
“Get up, we’re going.” Carter scowled as he stood on wobbly legs and fragilely began to trail along behind him silently. The man held a plastic bag full of the Thai order and Peter distantly wondered whether he would be punished more for eating the sticky rice pudding. There wasn’t any incident for a few blocks until Carter turned to watch him for a moment before snapping, “stop limping, you’re acting precious.” He hung his head and tried his best to conceal the slight hobble in the leg where the man had kicked his shin. It stung, and the pain had become more noticeable as he tried to hide the limp by putting more weight on the leg, but he was sure it wasn’t broken, so he bit the inside of his mouth until they made it back to the elevator. “If you can’t wipe that shit away,” he flicked Peter’s cheek unkindly and smirked when the boy flinched violently, “then you tell May and Tony that I stopped those drunk kids for you.” Peter snapped his head up and met Carters eyes.
“Y – you h – heard them…” he asked timidly.
“Yeah, yeah I did. Hard to miss such a pathetic show of pusillanimity on your part,” he laughed darkly.
“Pusillanimity?” Peter asked hesitantly, guessing the word was meant to belittle him.
“I’m saying you’re a wimp,” Carter grunted as the doors slid open at their floor. “Not any point in hiding those now,” Peter glanced in the mirror before stepping out of the elevator, catching a glimpse of his face which was dirtied from when he had been pushed against the alley. Dried tear tracks stained his cheeks and his eyes were rimmed red from crying. “Play it up a bit then, tell them I stopped those guys and make it believable or you won’t be the one suffering.” He gripped Peter’s collar and leant down to face level, so he could press the point in heavily, “because I swear, if they get suspicious and May kicks me out, you will regret it and so will they.” He let go of the hoodie and Peter stumbled back, miserably thinking about the fact that he wouldn’t have to play up his distress because he was terrified and needed Tony to tell him everything was okay.
He followed Carter down the hallway to the apartment door and stared at the same stain in the carpet he had seen for years, fighting the burning feeling of tears threatening to spill as he thought about Carter’s threat. He heard the jingle of keys and watched as the man jammed them in the door unceremoniously and pulled it open, stepping in before him.
“Hey, how was the walk?” May asked from the couch as Peter walked into the apartment, his back turned to her and Tony as he closed the door behind him. He pulled it shut slowly, soaking up the time before he knew he would have to turn around and face them both. From where May and Carter’s voices were drifting from, he assumed everyone was sat in the living room, and he reluctantly moved from the door and walked towards them.
There was a beat, then he looked up from the floor and met Tony’s eyes.
“Peter!” The mechanic shot up from the couch and crossed the room abruptly, one hand moved up to hover over Peter’s face, as if he wanted to cup the boy’s cheek, while the other rested at his side. “What happened? Why are you dirty, are – are you crying?” Peter looks up at him with watery eyes as his chin began to wobble. “Oh Pete,” he murmured before pulling the teen into his chest and holding him tightly as he started to sniffle and cry.
May was on her feet too, rubbing Peter’s back as she looked increasingly more concerned with each sob that was buried away in Tony’s neck. Carter was standing at the table in the kitchen, unpacking the plastic bag with their order, but Tony was watching him accusingly, his eyes narrowed, and teeth gritted together even as he clutched Peter closer to his chest. “What the hell did you do?” He asked the man angrily, holding back the urge to snap too loudly, in fear of frightening the teen in his arms more.
Carter was leant against the table casually, serving spoon in one hand as he flicked a piece of rice onto the floor disinterestedly, not paying much attention to Peter, who was still cradled against Tony while his body racked with quiet sobs. He glanced over with an unamused eyebrow raised when he caught the harsh tone in Tony’s voice, and the spoon was discarded next to the plastic containers of takeout while he crossed his arms and looked at the pair incredulously.
“I didn’t do anything except help, so don’t point the finger at me because I’m the one who saved his sorry ass.” Tony’s grip tightened, and he glared harder, his voice dropping dangerously low.
“Don’t you dare speak about him like that.” Even May had turned to look at Carter, her eyes were searching, trying to find some ulterior motive behind why he had snapped at her friend.
“I think we all need to stop making assumptions and just focus on Peter for now,” she looked to Carter, “can you get me an icepack from the freezer?” Tony looked up at her in question and she stroked Peter’s head gingerly, running a gentle finger over an obvious bump at the back of his head. He mimicked her caring ministrations and grit his teeth harder as he felt the lump too.
For a moment, Carter didn’t move from his spot and Tony thought he was about to refuse getting Peter an icepack, but eventually he did, an unreadable expression crossed his face, but he handed May the pack regardless before slumping in a chair at the table. Tony let May place the pack and he wrapped a hand around the back of Peter’s head to hold it against the bump. By then, the worst of his sobs had edged away, and he was merely curled around Tony’s neck as his breathing evened out.
“You want to tell them what happened?” Carter said plainly, ignoring Tony’s glare as he felt Peter stiffening up slightly.
“Y – yeah…” he said quietly, his breath hitching as he slid off Tony’s lap with a slight pink hue creeping across his face when the mechanic reached out to affectionately wipe away the dirt that lingered on his cheek. “M’ sorry, it – it wasn’t – it wasn’t him. C – Carter helped…”
No he didn’t, no he didn’t, nohedidn’t. He hurt me, please make him go away, he hurt me, he watched while those men harassed me, and he called me your boy-toy. He’s making me lie and he’s going to hurt you if I don’t.
Peter felt sick, his hands were shaking as he tucked them into the dirty sleeves of his sweatshirt, but he smiled weakly at Tony who had wiped some of the grime off his face. “Th – there were just some drunk guys a – and they were y – yelling s – stuff at me,” he turned his face away and spoke softly, “Carter s – scared them off.”
Nohedidn’t, nohedidn’t, nohedidn’t!
“I – it was just… it was just scary, t – too much like… I – I though they were gonna…” He trailed off and Tony picked it up for him.
“Too much like Ben, yeah buddy I know, you’re okay now.” He rubbed Peter’s shoulder sadly and watched the boy closely, he took in the ever-present fright and hurt in those wide, chocolate eyes, the way each breath would make his chest stutter slightly as a reminder of his earlier breakdown. “Why didn’t you call me?” Peter turned back to face him with an apologetic look on his face, his mouth opened and shut like he was trying to force words.
“He didn’t have his phone,” Carter supplied, watching the exchange and feeling satisfied when Peter met his eye and his lip quivered in fear.
“I watched you put it in your pocket as you left, Pete what happened?” The teen’s eyes flicked from his lap up to Carter then back down to the floor. There was silence for a moment until Carter spoke up for him.
“He had it, but it wasn’t on him,” Peter knew his phone was still tucked into the man’s pocket, they both did, but he had a suspicion he wasn’t getting it back.
“Where was it then?” May looked at Carter but stayed beside Peter and Tony.
“I don’t know, kid said he dropped it,” he answered, waving a hand in Peter’s direction before turning around and dishing up his own plate of food. “Isn’t that what you said happened Peter?” He turned around, he was holding the serving spoon and plate with a white-knuckled grip that the boy knew was meant for him.
“I – I… y – yeah, m’ sorry, I’m really sorry Tony. I – I didn’t mean to lose it I was jus –”
“Hey, no kiddo honestly, it’s fine, it’s okay. We can make you a new one together in the workshop, it’s okay.” Tony pulled Peter into an embrace and from the positioning of it, he couldn’t see as Carter tapped the pocket holding the phone and smirked.
Tony waited a long beat before he broke the silence, “let’s get you some food, okay?” Peter nodded shakily and stayed close to Tony’s side as they walked to the table. He winced as he untucked his hands from his sleeves and took what he was handed, the edge of the plate rubbed against his raw palms and Tony took the plate back off him and put it on the table. “What’s wrong?” He reached over and gently turned Peter’s hands upward, so he could assess the damage. “May, where do you keep the disinfectant?” He eyed the small pieces of gravel that still sat against the skin and frowned worriedly.
“In the bathroom, I’ll dish everything up for you both,” May rubbed Peter’s shoulder and smiled as Tony guided him out of the kitchen and down to the bathroom.
“Can you hold your hands out?” Tony let him sit on the closed toilet seat and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant and cotton pads to set them beside the boy. He knelt down and gently supported Peter’s hand as he lightly ran water over the wound, washing out all the dirt before he disinfected it. “You said the guys only shouted at you, why are your hands all scraped up and when did you hit your head?” Peter blinked and shifted uncomfortably, but Tony assumed the disinfectant was stinging slightly. “What happened kid,” he tilted Peter’s chin up and looked at him sincerely as he waited patiently.
“He tripped when he ran away from the guys while I got rid of them.” Tony stood, turning to face the doorway where Carter was leaning, and he glared straight at him angrily.
“You should eat dinner with May, I’m sorting Peter out just fine on my own, thanks.” Carter’s eyebrows dipped to return the glare and his jaw clenched.
“I think I can decide what I want to do in my own apartment, Stark.” Tony prickled, his back straightened, he moved closer to the man, his chest inflating as he growled.
“Well I think, considering your ‘explanation’ doesn’t explain the dirt on his face or why he was even left alone in the first place, you aren’t exactly needed right now. I’d suggest leaving us alone and explaining to May why you brought her nephew home injured, covered in filth and terrified, or maybe you should just go to work now and give us all some space.” He scowled darkly, putting his hand on the doorknob and staring the man down until he stepped back enough for the door to close.
He’s going to hurt me, he’s going to hurt May, he’s going to hurt Tony
“I – I think – I – I’m okay now, th – thank you Tony. W – we should have dinner,” he stood up and stepped forward. The mechanic was still facing the door, his protective demeanour had faded when the door had shut but he wasn’t turning to look at Peter.
“Does he get angry at you like that Peter?”
Yes, yes, yes. It hurts so, so much, please save me.
“No.” He wanted Tony to turn around and tell him everything was okay. “N – not really,” he wanted to be held because it felt like his world was falling apart and he needed Tony to be his solid. “I – I mean sometimes h – he gets annoyed if I, um, if – if I talk too much or don’t do my homework, but th – that’s pretty standard.” He reached out tentatively, unfurling a finger outward until he touched Tony’s hand shyly. “I’m sorry… I don’t want you t – to be upset.” He curled his fingers into Tony’s palm and felt his fist close gently around them. “C – can you… can you look at me please?”
I need you so much, please, please don’t hate me for being so weak.
“Okay, okay I just… I’m worried about you, I’m really worried about you kid.” He pulled Peter against his chest and folded his arms around the boy’s shoulders, hugging him closer as he felt the teen falling into the touch. “You’re really important Pete, I hope you know that.”
“Y – you’re important too… t – to me I mean.” He pulled closer and Tony reciprocated, Peter buried his blush in his neck, but the mechanic could feel the smile pressed against his pule point.
----
“Is he asleep?” May paused the movie, the light of the TV illuminated Tony as he brushed a curl from Peter’s face and continued to thread his fingers through the soft hair. She absently traced small patterns over Peter’s legs, which were spread out across the three-seater as his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of sleep.
“Yeah, has been for a while. I uh – I can’t really move into another room to talk.” May smiled when she noted the teen who was sprawled out over Tony, his cheek squashed against the mechanics chest, arms wrapped loosely around his neck and body wedged between the back of the couch and his side. “What did Carter say before he left for work?”
“He did actually apologise for snapping, but I don’t know, I still feel like he isn’t making enough effort to get close to Peter. Whenever I ask about what they do all day, if they had lunch together or anything, he just says Peter stayed in his room the whole day studying and he did his own thing.”
Lying, he’s lying, heliedtoyou. He comes into my room and beats me. He refuses to let me eat and if I do he hits me until it hurts so much I throw up.
“That’s what concerns me May, every time I try to visit during the week he says Peter’s gone out or he’s staying with a friend. Sometimes he’ll call me, but he always sounds so upset, he told me it was nightmares, but I never pressed it. I’m really worried about him, I feel like it has to be more than the Ben thing.” Tony swirled his hand in a figure-eight through the curls, prompting Peter to furl closer and make soft noises that could almost have been described as purrs.
“What do you mean?” May watched Peter’s face nuzzling instinctively closer into Tony’s collarbone, even in sleep.
“I think having Carter around is digging up the old memories of Ben, that’s why he’s been getting so many more nightmares, lack of sleep might explain why he’s been so on-edge and jumpy too.” He tilted his head down awkwardly to check the boy was still sleeping before speaking. “He said Carter was hard to talk to sometimes, because they don’t have much in common, but he didn’t seem phased about the lack of effort on the other end.” Tony hesitated, chewing his lip before he spoke again, “I asked him if he wanted Carter to act more like a father, and uh, he sai –”
“And he said no?” He nodded, surprised that May seemed to know already, “that doesn’t surprise me. Peter hasn’t been looking for a father for a long time Tony.”
Of course he doesn’t need a father, why would he have ever thought Peter would want a father, let alone him as one.
“Oh, okay, yeah that’s fair… I don’t know why he would, I mean after Richard and Ben nobody else could really –”
“Tony,” he looked up from where he had been staring into space and blathering on about nothing. “Tony?” He turned to face May, making eye contact for all of two seconds before he dropped the gaze in favour of watching his own hand running through Peter’s hair. “You two are the most oblivious people I’ve ever met. Peter stopped looking for a father-figure the first day you came over and helped do the puzzle with him. Even if he hasn’t said it, he loves you and sees you as a parental figure, so if you just told him about how you really knew Mary, it would mean the world to him.”
“Uhm…” his fingers stilled, and Peter made a whiney noise high in his throat. “He – uh, he said that?” May waved a hand in their direction and sipped her juice amusedly, a fond smile on her lips as she watched Tony’s hand automatically continue carding through Peter’s hair at the little whine he made.
“Tony he ‘slipped up’ years ago and used the exact words ‘father-figure.’ He’s so shy and he probably wouldn’t ever have the courage to bring it up with you, but he’s always in such a good mood after he spends time with you. Honestly, I think you two just need to hash this out, so you can finally tell him you’re his actual father.”
“Uh, y – yeah. I think… I think it’s time to tell him.” He sighed, but it was a content sigh, like the weight of his fear of rejection was sinking off his chest. “I’m going to talk to him here afterschool sometime this week or next, he needs to know.”
“I think he’s going to be over the moon Tony, just make sure you’re there for him on the bad days too.”
“Always,” he gazed down at the boy resting on his chest, his son, and smiled adoringly. “I’ll always be there for him.”
Because that’s my kid.