Everything
As Peter continued to stay with Tony, everyday felt like less of a burden and everything began to just fall into place.
He didn't speak much if he could help it. But then again, neither did Peter. Tony felt like the scum of the Earth half of the time, but he had actually started getting up, eating at lunch, looking after himself. Morning cuddles became regular and Peter never used his room. Conversation was usually less frequent, though it didn't seem to matter. They slept the morning through, waking around noon or after. They'd get up, Tony would make Peter shower and brush his teeth- usually, more often than not, resulting in him doing the same. Tony would make Peter something to eat, Pepper or Rhodey would check up on them. Talk to Tony about the government stuff. Tony would find Peter later reading, or watching TV, or been out for a walk. They'd give each other space. They'd go to sleep, never without each other.
And repeat.
He relished in the somehow perfect, comforting silence of the small apartment lounge, his legs pulled up beside him and a pillow tucked under his arm. His weary eyes scanned the screen of his phone, trying to read articles he clicked on, but not taking in much. He wore the same pair of pyjama pants he'd worn the last three days, a Black Sabbath t-shirt that once fit him hung loosely over his front. His beard was a bit misshapen. Probably long overdue a shave.
Being alone would usually fuel some sort of existential crisis Tony was always prone to getting, though what helped was what he could see out of the corner of his eye. Peter sat on the opposite couch, legs tucked up like Tony's, dressed in some denim shorts and one of Tony's old, grey band t-shirts, though the logo was far too faded to read. His hand rested under his chin, his mouth hanging ever so slightly open, his eyes following the pages of the book he held close. The sight made Tony a million times more at ease. Peter's hair was fresh, fluffy looking, after being washed that morning. waves tickled his ears, and Tony decided he was probably due a haircut. His bright blue eyes were transfixed on the novel in front of him- 'The Green Mile', Tony thought it was, from the corner of the cover that was visible. He was in his own little world. The only noise he could hear was Peter's soft inhales and exhales, slow and controlled, that just filled the air with warmth.
Tony smirked to himself as Peter readjusted, moving his arm and revealing the cover of the book more.
"I see you've helped yourself to my bookshelf."
His voice was slightly croaky and gravelly, about seven octaves lower than usual- probably since it was the first thing he'd really said all day. Peter glanced up from his book with a raised brow.
"You never read. And you told me I could," he pointed out.
"Hey, I do read. Well, I did. I guarantee you've I've read every book on that shelf at least once."
"So you know this.?"
Tony rolled his eyes.
"Of course I do. Everyone's at least seen The Green Mile. John Coffey, right? And the mouse."
He found a small delight in watching Peter smile and nod fondly. It was new, to find a familiar shine in eyes that had been too bloodshot and tired looking for too long.
"Yeah. I'm nearly at the end. 'S not fair Tones, they are gonna kill him. Even though he didn't do it at all. He was only ever trying to help."
He sounded tired and slightly out of it, as if he really was half in a separate world. He had only just started calling him Tony- let alone sleepily muttering 'Tones'. But he supposed he'd take it. Tony nodded solemnly, trying to reflect on the story as much as he could. It had been a while.
"Well. Life's not all buttercups and daisies."
Peter sniggered.
"You're telling me."
Peter finished the last few pages of his book in the next five minutes, sitting with glassy eyes and a head full of thought after closing the book on his knee. Tony had given up trying to focus on his twitter feed- instead, he slumped in his seat and found a dull spot on the wall to stare at. Maybe he could go back to sleep. Maybe he could just stay still for long enough that he just stops feeling things. Or maybe he should get up and do something productive. He seriously considered it, for a moment- but he couldn't bring himself to lift a muscle.
He let his eyes follow back to Peter, who was doing the same thing, just sitting, his head lolling back on the chair and his eyes shut like he might fall asleep. Maybe they could just nap for a while. There wasn't any harm in it.
Tony adjusted himself so he too could rest his head on the cushions behind him, and let his eyes slide shut. He was just so fucking tired. All the time. It never seemed to get better, as much as he used to want it to.
He had kind of nearly given up. Not really. Nearly.
He tried to think of happy things to lull himself to sleep. Immediately his head was filled with Peter, Peter laughing, Peter before the war, Peter with his Aunt. It didn't help. He just felt regret seep through him, realising how much he wanted Peter to become his old self again. More immaturity, more stupid jokes and sheepish smiles. They grow up way to fucking fast. Tony was sure in his heart that if Peter didn't have the burden of being involved in it all, he'd be absolutely fine. And then he fucked it up. It was him who pulled him into it all. It was his fault.
He shuddered a sigh.
Sleep didn't seem like it was coming.
It was disturbed anyway. He heard from his side Peter shuffling around for a few minutes. Being too tired to open his eyes again, he just stayed still until he heard Peter whisper to FRIDAY under his breath.
"FRIDAY, connect my phone to the speakers."
Somehow, Tony summoned the strength to peel open an eye and squint at Peter quizzically.
Peter looked down at his phone before pressing the screen once- then, the silence was broken by a distorted lead guitar riff that made the air tremble. The kid was lucky that Tony's headaches hadn't been playing up- the volume was high enough to feel the bass rumbling through the floor as it kicked in.
Tony couldn't help but smile weakly.
It was a song he'd played about a million times around Peter, along with other songs from his playlist- Paranoid by Black Sabbath. He hadn't heard it in what felt like years. It was one of their most popular songs, and Peter was obviously lacking in the rock department- but he appreciated the gesture, the familiar tune making his head feel light. What that gesture was, he didn't really know.
"What're you doin, Pete?" he mumbled, looking at the kid who was watching him expectantly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"You like Black Sabbath," he said lamely, as if that was a full explanation. "You used to play it all the time. "
He kind of hated himself as he heard Peter talk in past tense. That band meant the world to him, and he hadn't played a single song since before space, that day in general. He guessed he kind of fucked himself over.
He let the all too familiar riff wash over him, and stayed in the same position as he eyed Peter, who's foot began to tap lightly on the floor.
As Ozzy Osbourne's vocals came in, his voice filled the room, and Tony followed Peter's lips as the kid sung it.
"Finished with my woman 'cause she couldn't help me with my mind-"
He hardly opened his mouth, it was nearly a whisper- but he could hear some of his word perfect, and in tune attempt. He almost hated how much he felt his chest swell.
"People think I'm insane, because I am frowning all the time-"
"Sing up."
Peter's eyes snapped up to Tony's.
"Why?"
"I didn't know you knew all the words," Tony confessed. It made him beam with pride on the inside thinking that Peter listened to enough of his music to know most of it. "And if you're going to sing, I wanna hear it."
Peter flushed about seven shades of red, obviously not anticipating an audience. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt and nodded his head along as the gap in the lyrics went on, and picked up on the second part of the verse, eyes fixed on the floor.
"All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy-"
It was getting progressively harder for Tony to not join in.
"Think I'll lose my mind if I don't find something to pacify-"
Peter's voice was a louder, but not much. It was a bit croaky, and he definitely wasn't the next Ozzy- but he sung well, the song a bit too high for him anyway, and every bit he sung made Tony feel more and more happy.
"You can you help me," Peter sung, looking up at Tony again and smirking in embarrassment as his voice cracked, "Occupy my braiaiain!" He screwed around a little, mimicking Ozzy's voice with a cheeky grin and Tony couldn't help the chuckle that raised in his chest and made his eyes go all squinty. The kid was going to kill him.
He raised from his seat, tapping his palm on the side of his leg to the drums. He walked to Tony, offering two outstretched hands.
"Ooohhoh yeaah."
Tony couldn't hold back anything. He smiled again, watching his ridiculous kid wiggle his shoulders as he reached out to take Tony's wrist in his grasp lightly. He tugged it.
"Get up?" he asked carefully, as if he were worried Tony might not be able to handle it. Tony sighed with another sad smile, letting his arm go loose so Peter could continue to tug.
"I'm not dancing, Peter."
"You used to."
Yeah. He did.
He opened his mouth to protest- but suddenly, watching him bop to the beat and pull his wrist, he was suddenly felt like he could lift himself up again and give himself the energy to move an arm. Jesus Christ.
Anything could have given him motivation- it HAD to be Peter dancing to Black Sabbath. Of course it was.
The riff continued until the second verse started, and Tony began to tap Peter's wrist that held him.
"I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find," he sung quietly- but it was worth it, as Peter's face lit up, held an even tighter grasp on him, and sung back the next line louder.
"I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind,"
He really did know it all.
And that made him stand up. He let Peter guide him off the couch so he was next to him, though maintaining a loose grip on his wrist. Peter at this point had started bouncing lightly on his feet to the beat- and now he was standing on the floor, Tony could help but bounce slightly too as the bass vibrated through the room. The guitar solo started, the shrill guitar melody was like heaven to his ears, and Peter, held onto Tony's wrist, had it somewhere in him to start head banging, his brown hair flopping around like it had a mind of it's own. Tony hadn't smiled that much in a long time.
"You're ridiculous," he laughed, and was even more thrilled and thoroughly entertained when Peter told FRIDAY to higher the volume 20% and began to sing the guitar solo with his voice. But he didn't care. He didn't care about how ridiculous Peter was. He felt lighter than he had in days.
Who else was there to see him make a fool of himself? No one at all. Then what the hell was holding him back?
He responded by switching his bouncing to jumping, and Peter laughed as he did, doing the same. They bounced at the same time, still holding onto each other and starting to throw themselves around like idiots. Tony joined in on shrilly screeching the lead guitar, making Peter laugh even more.
"Make a joke and I will sigh and you will laugh and I will cry," they sung together. All Tony could feel was the bass thrumming in his ribcage, and Peter's hand on his wrist.
"Happiness I cannot feel and love to me is sO UNREAL!" They sung, ending in them both matching the volume of the music, drowning out Ozzy's vocals and making Tony's throat feel hoarse from shouting. Tony let his arm slide away from Peter's grasp, jumping in a circle lamely and playing an obnoxious air guitar, strumming violently. Peter didn't stop smiling.
So neither did Tony.
His heart was beating in his throat, there was sweat down his back- but he didn't care, he loved it, he loved how free he felt so suddenly compared to the rest on the week, he loved the song, he loved music, he loved Peter. He loved Peter so much.
"AND SO AS YOU HEAR THESE WORDS TELLING YOU NOW OF MY STATE," They shouted, jumping together again as if they were in a fucking mosh pit. Tony's ears were ringing. Peter's eyes were glassy again. He looked happy. Tony hoped to god it was happiness.
"I TELL YOU TO ENJOY LIFE-" Tony continued, just to be cut through by Peter's frantic voice-
"ADOPT ME."
"I WISH- I-" The last lyric rolled of Tony's tongue into the air and disappeared before he could finish it.
He stopped jumping.
The last bars of music riffed on, but the pounding in Tony's feet had suddenly rushed straight to his head. The music, as loud as it was before, seemed to fall around him.
Peter stopped bouncing to, shortly after he realised Tony was staring at him like a complete madman. He was flustered, hair plastered to his forehead and his breaths laboured. His face fell, as he seemed to have started to process what he had just said out loud. And Tony hated it. His eyebrow turned in and his smile sank so deep that Tony was pretty sure he heard his heart break.
"What?" he shouted at him, piercing the music that still raged on around them.
"I-" Peter began to stammer, cheeks pink and eyes skimming everywhere apparent from Tony's face in panic.
"FRIDAY- mute. Mute music."
The end of the song was cut short, and suddenly the world seemed to stop. Silence was suddenly the most uncomfortable thing Tony had ever been in, it feel around them like a bad omen and kind of made Tony feel queasy. He looked hard into Peter's eyes that wouldn't meet his own, for once in his life, completely speechless.
Jesus.
Peter looked like he might have a panic attack. His mouth was stuttering and opening and closing like a fucking fish.
"You look like a fish, stop. What did you say?"
This only seemed to make Peter look more panicked, and Tony regretted it immediately as Peter's breaths started to quicken again and his eyes widened.
"No- fuck, shit-" he mumbled, suddenly grabbing onto Peter's shoulders with a firm grip, forcing the kid to look at him directly. "What did you say? You told me to adopt you?"
He was breathless from jumping, but also from the shock of hearing Peter ask to be his son. Literally- because that was what this was .
Jesus. Jesus jesus jesus oh god oh-
"No. Yes. Not- no, I-"
"You want me to be your dad?"
Oh god, he's fucked this up.
Peter looks at him like he's a monster, eyes the size of the moon and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Words seem to try to come out of his mouth, but fail to- all Tony gets is a stumbled, "I- I d- I-I-"
"It's okay, it's okay, I'm sorry," Tony apologised quickly, rubbing his shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "I was just caught off guard. It's fine. It's okay-"
"I'm sorry," Peter blurted, exhaling heavily and trying to regain his composure. "I'm sorry, I know you never wanted this, to be responsible for anyone- it's not fair, that's the stupidest thing I've ever fucking said Tony, I'm sorry-"
"I want you to be my son."
The words shuddered through Tony before he had the chance to think about them.
Fuck. Fuck
But
It was true
So
why was he so afraid?
Peter looked at him with his mouth slightly open, his chest seemed to stop moving all together and Tony worried for a moment that he'd just killed him.
"You want to be my dad?"
No turning back.
Living his truth.
Yes. Yes, yes. Yes a million times over. This kid saved his life. This kid was incredible, funny, smart, kind, passionate, adorable in every way, and Tony couldn't even begin to imagine a life without meeting him 3 years ago. He was the light of his life. When everything fucked up in every way imaginable, Peter was always there. Every single time.
He wanted to keep him safe and make him laugh and care for him in any way he possibly could. His only regret was that he couldn't have done it sooner.
He tried to ignore the tears brimming in his eyes.
"Yes, Peter," he almost shouted, before realising how ridiculous it all was. He cracked a nervous smile, looking down before saying it again.
"Yes. Yes. If you want me to be. If you really want me to be."
Peter's face went from absolute zero to a million in under a second. His breathing picked back up again, his cheeks were flooded even more with colour, his face split into the biggest, most handsome grin Tony had ever seen in his life.
"Oh my god," Peter mumbled, lifting his arms to grip onto Tony's. "Fuck yes."
"Language-" But it didn't matter. His words were crushed by the teenager falling into his arms, strong arms clutching his shoulders so tight he thought he might break.
"Little looser on the grip, Spiderman," Tony laughed, but he couldn't bring himself to really care. He wrapped his arms around Peter in response, as tight as he could, his heart welling with pride. Everything flooded into him all at once- and suddenly he felt so overwhelmed it took everything to hold back tears. He was feeling so fucking happy- and god, did it feel amazing.
He rubbed Peter's back as he felt him buckle a little and sink further into his arms with a small sobbing sound. A tear slid down Tony's cheek. Peter just had to get emotional.
"Tony, you're the most incredible person in the world and I love you," Peter said loudly into his chest where his head was buried.
If he wasn't melted before, he was fucking liquid now.
"I love you too. With everything I have," his voice cracked.
Because it was true.
Maybe this meant everything was going to be okay
He knew it would be okay if Peter stuck around. And he knew for definite that he was not going anywhere.