Archive of Our Own

***

1.

It’s not a big deal. It’s really not. Peter doesn’t even know why he’s stressing so much. Well, he does. Stressing, worrying, it’s just something that runs in his family. If Peter isn’t setting himself off, his aunt is, or life just in general is...even if it’s doing nothing. The bite made him even more anxious but it didn’t make him stupid so really, Peter has no idea why he’s panicking. He wasn’t a minute ago but he is now. Enough so that Mr. Stark stops what he’s doing and Peter goes stock still, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong kid or am I just going to let you permanently ruin your suit?”

Peter looks down and sure enough, the two wires he’d about to solder together would have sent his suit into electronic overload and yes, he would have potentially have had to rebuild it from the ground up. Or, at least, made Mr. Stark do it and that’s so much worse.

“It’s fine Mr. Stark,” Peter says, smiling but it feels shaky and apparently is, by the way Tony frowns.

“Aha, yeah no, try again.”

He folds his arms and Peter knows that he’s being completely serious now and that only makes things worse because this is not a panicking matter.

“It’s nothing important Dad,” he tries, valiantly hoping that’s enough. “It’s nothing Spiderman related so-”

Tony raises a hand. “Um, I’m sorry. Since when did “Spiderman” become synonymous with “important”? Last time I checked, Stark Industries isn’t IronMan but it’s still a pretty big deal. And I know our grip of the market will back me up so whatever you’re trying to do kid, you’re better off just saying it.”

Peter knows he’s backed into a corner. He still blushes though and starts with, “It’s not important. I just remembered I have a Spanish test tomorrow and I haven’t studied. I-I know you think homework’s not important!” he blusters, hands waving wildly. “So I, I’ll do it when I get home! It’s okay Dad!”

Tony Stark actually rolls his eyes at him, taking two steps closer and clapping him on the shoulder. “Okay, a mistake on my part because you sure as hell better stay in school.” He then looks at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, language swap to Spanish please?”

“Ciertamente,” comes the reply and, before Peter can even ask, Tony is asking him to pass him the screwdriver...in Spanish. 

Peter didn’t even know Tony spoke Spanish. He then fumbles for the screwdriver because his “boss” is becoming impatient. Peter’s Spanish isn’t amazing but he knows it’s pretty up there and for most of the evening, he keeps up with Mr. Stark. Sometimes he has to pause and think, sometimes he has to ask the sentence to be repeated, and sometimes Tony has to nudge him to do more than give one word answers or just reply instead of making conversation himself but they get there.

Around nine o’clock Tony packs up shop and instructs FRIDAY to turn off the lights. Peter shoulders his backpack and is steered towards the lifts, a stern look stemming his argument that he was going to make his own way back to Queens. Apparently Tony had already assumed that and had called Happy. Tony waves a hand at him dismissively. “Go and...pass your test or whatever.”

“I still haven’t studied for it,” Peter protests.

Tony stares at him flatly. “Kid, you just explained nanotechnology and the ridiculous notion of the earth being flat - which it isn’t, I can prove, I’ve been to space - in Spanish. If you can do that, you can pass a lousy highschool test.”

Peter reluctantly agrees, even if the flat earth comment makes his ears burn. He doesn’t believeit; it ’s just floating around! Still, “...I didn’t know you spoke Spanish Mr. Stark.”

The billionaire rolls his eyes. “Comes with the job, I suppose. Now Italian, that’s familiar territory.”

“Tu parli italiano?” The words are out of his mouth before Peter even thinks about it, Tony’s eyebrows shooting up.

“You too huh? My mom was Italian.”

“So’s my aunt,” Peter says with a smile.

Tony thinks on that. “And you speak it? Fluently?” Peter nods. “Okay, well, don’t tell anyone that and we can...make use of it. Always good to have a secret language.”

For what, he doesn’t say but Peter beams all the way back to his and May’s apartment just the same. 

***

2.

It’s not even half past seven when the Avengers and Rogues are brought away from their breakfasts by the sound of a door being flung open and then the sound of someone falling. Natasha’s eyebrows shoot up while Steve teeters between getting up or not. Tony is the only one who seems to have any understanding of the situation and he isn’t even in the room. No, he’s still in his bedroom trying to find the tie he knows goes with the outfit he’s currently wearing.

“Alright Pete?”

Peter’s answer is to swear quite colourfully before skidding into the room. His shirt’s inside out and he’s still wrestling with his shoes, backpack and sweater tossed over alternate shoulders. 

“‘m fine,” he manages, not bothering with the laces before trying to tame his curls. He dashes for the door and that’s when Tony spurs into action.

“Uh uh, hey, no, get back here! No skipping out on breakfast.”

“I know,” Peter bemoans, eyes wide but making no move to come back. “But Dad, I...my alarm, that is...I forgot I was here instead of my apartment and I don’t...the subway is-”

Tony cuts him off with a hand. “You need a lift to school. Easy fix kid. I’ll call Happy.”

He goes to before Peter starts flailing his hands madly. “No, you can’t! He’s...I mean, Happy and my aunt kinda…”

Peter trails off but he knows he’s already said too much. Tony’s gaze is borderline manic. The tie can wait. Tony tosses it god knows where, grabs a box of muesli bars from the pantry, and divests Peter of his backpack before proceeding to stuff his sweatshirt over his head. “There is literally no excuse that can save you now, you know that. I need to hear all of this.”

He shoves Peter towards the elevator, already harassing him while Peter fumbles trying to open his “breakfast”. A web shoots out and snares Peter’s backpack right before the elevator door shuts, unseen by anyone at the table.

Really, just another day in the Stark household.

***

3.

Peter admits he’s not usually one for going to bed early. Between school, interning with Mr. Stark, and being Spiderman, there aren’t many hours left in the day for things like, you know, sleep. But sometimes being a teenager catches up with him and today had been one of those days. He’s been tired for the better part of a week and eating more than usual - which says mountains because he already has a ridiculously fast metabolism. May keeps making jokes about measuring him in a week and seeing how much he’s grown. He’s sixteen so that’s probably on track, right? 

But no, today Peter decides to go to bed early only to get woken by his phone going off. He blearily reaches for it and then winces against the searing light that is the screen. An unknown number stares back at him and he’s considering contemplating letting it ring out. Guilt gets the better of him though and so he answers.

(Plus it’s nearly eleven-thirty at night. Who calls at that time?)

“...’llo?” he slurs into the phone, still half asleep.

There’s a noticeable pause on the other end and then a voice. “Sorry, we must have the wrong number. We’re looking for Peter Parker an-”

He shoots up. “No, no, that’s me! I’m Peter!”

“Oh.” Peter decides he doesn’t like that. “Is there...are your parents there Peter?”

He frowns. “Uh, no. I don’t, I mean...I live with my aunt. Can I, uh...Sorry, um, why did you call me?”

There’s a long pause there, longer than the first one. “Peter, I need you to listen to me. I promise it’ll be okay however there’s a situation with May Parker and you’re her emergency contact.”

Peter nearly drops the phone, breath catching and heart rate accelerating like he just ran a marathon. “A-Aunt May?” he manages to croak. “Is she…? Oh god, what-...”

“Peter, she’s fine,” the...nurse? That’s a fair assumption, right? On the other end of the line says, stresses. Peter’s watch vibrates against his wrist but he ignores it, panic tunnelling his vision and his eyes are burning. “Peter? Peter, honey? Can you hear me?”

“Hey, hello, cutting in. Someone fill me in.”

Peter’s breath returns in a gasp as Tony’s voice filters down the line and somehow manages to make the call a threeway. Of course, that’s why his watch had been buzzing. His vitals had alerted Tony and Tony had gone straight into dad mode. Peter thinks he might need dad mode right about now.

“Dad,” he manages and that’s all he manages before his throat closes over again. 

“Hey, other end,” Tony calls, Peter envisioning him snapping his fingers in impatience perfectly. “What’s going on? Why’s Pete so wound up?”

“Um, sir, that’s...Peter said he lived with his aunt and implied his parents were-”

“You know, I really hate to do this because I kind of hating using myself this way these days but I’m literally Tony Stark. Peter’s my kid and if you’re calling him and upsetting him, I have a right to know.”

The nurse seems like she doesn’t quite know what to say and Peter finally manages to find his voice again. “It’s Aunt May. She...something happened.”

“Okay, we can work with that,” Tony says, sounding like he’s stepped outside and then there’s whirring and oh, he’s getting in his suit. Peter thinks he might cry. “Let’s get a hospital name and we’ll head over there. Miss? Nurse? Could you help out here?”

She clears her throat. “I’m sorry sir but that’s confidential information that I can only pass onto Mr. Parker and-”

“Pete, I’m hanging up. I’ll be there in five. You get me an address.”

Peter smiles, despite everything. “Thanks Dad.” 

He does, then, get the hospital name and it’s so ridiculous he almost laughs, committing the name to memory and throwing open his bedroom window just as Tony reaches his building. It’s hilarious in its own way to see Tony awkwardly clamber across his bed as he attempts to enter the room but then the suit’s gone and he has Peter in his arms and everything becomes real again. Peter lets out a sob he’d be embarrassed about any other time but Tony just holds him, smoothing back his hair and then slipping a coat over his shoulder and doing the zip for him. He toes on shoes as Tony calls a cab and twenty minutes later he’s at May’s side oblivious to the speechless nurses down the hall dealing with a Tony Stark that’s adamantly paying off every medical bill the Parker’s have and putting them on his personal medical insurance. 

By the time Tony makes it to the room, Peter’s asleep and May’s thumbing his shoulder. She looks fine, for all that a rowdy patient stabbed her. The look she gives Tony says more than words ever could. Tony just shrugs, squeezing Peter’s shoulder just once. He slurs out a “dad” and then drops off completely.

“Call me in the morning; I’ll pick you up,” is all Tony says as he takes his leave. Peter’s fine now.

***

4.

Tony doesn’t frequent coffee shops. Yes, he drinks absurds amounts of coffee but he doesn’t tend to walk in, claim a booth, and just sit back and relax. From the way Peter shifts from side to side opposite him every few minutes, he doesn’t either. But Tony had decided to surprise Peter by picking him up after school. It had been worth it for the way Peter had lit up. He’d assumed they’d be going back to the tower but Pepper was harassing Tony for signatures so he was staying as far away as possible.

And so, coffee shop it was.

Peter had chosen it, apparently his friend MJ - what kind of name was that? - frequented it because it wasn’t “part of the capitalist chains set on destroying society and silencing the working class”.

Tony just liked that it sold coffee. And good coffee at that.

Opposite him, Peter definitely does not have coffee but he’s making the most of his ginger lemonade. The ice clinks around his glass as he stirs it with a straw, his other hand zooming in on the diagrams Tony had drawn on his StarkPad. It was a new IronMan suit prototype and Peter looks like he’s taking in every minute detail. Tony just watches him, sipping on his coffee while surreptitiously pushing his sunglasses further up his nose. His hood, thankfully, stays in place. 

The silence of the table is abruptly broken by Peter’s stomach growling loudly.

“Really Pete?”

Peter flushes to the tips of his ears. “S-sorry Mr Stark! I just, I did eat before I came! And we can-”

Tony just hands him his credit card. “Something gluten free for me - preferably blueberry - and two of whatever you want for you. Gotta keep up with that spider metabolism of yours.”

Peter goes to press but the look Tony sends him over his glasses is enough. Peter’s nose scrunches, exiting the booth with a huff. He heads behind him and out of Tony’s line of sight. He isn’t concerned, flipping the StarkPad back around and raising his eyebrows at the little notes Peter’s scrawled in with the stylus. The ideas are pretty good; imagination and creativity are the gifts of the younger generation. He personally can’t wait until Peter’s old enough to be on full time staff. 

“-eave me alone Flash.”

Tony’s head lifts slightly at Peter’s voice. They’re close to the school so it’s possible he’s run into one of his friends but the tone he’s using…

“Hey, come on Penis Parker.”

Tony’s hands still.

“I said leave me alone.”

“Why? You on a date? Who’d want to-...” The other boy trails off as they get all but adjacent to the table and he seems to notice Tony at last. His eyebrows lift and then he’s sneering and Tony decides he wants to end this kid right here, right now. “Who’s this Penis? Some homeless guy you-”

That’s fair, given Tony’s disguise, but still. Tony raises a hand when Peter goes to speak. He then whips his glasses off and he can see “Flash”’s face go through a variety of emotions, mouth dropping open and then finally snapping shut. 

“Sit down Pete.”

He does.

Tony then points at the other boy. “Call my kid that again and you’ll regret it. I’ll know; Peter’s got enough of my tech’ on him that he can’t sneeze without me knowing. First and only warning, got it?”

Flash nods silently and makes probably the fastest exit possible. The table descends into silence and Tony decides against pressing the matter so instead he rummages through the items Peter’s purchased. He extracts the blueberry bagel and pockets his credit card. He takes a bite, Peter still sitting there silently.

“Pete, getting cold,” he teases.

That gets a smile, Tony’s appearing in response. “Nothing here’s hot Mr. Stark,” Peter points out. He takes a bite before ducking his head. “Thanks Dad.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Thankfully, knowing Peter, he won’t.

***

5.

They’re not common, nor are they universally liked, but every so often the Avengers - Rogues included - will sit and have a night in. Sometimes they play games, sometimes they watch movies, and sometimes they simply relax and swap stories. Tony absolutely loathes them but, of course, Peter absolutely loves them. He never wants to miss a tower night and the one time he did - a decathlon meet taking him out of town for the weekend - he sulked until Tony scheduled another one. 

This is all pretty common knowledge. Neither Tony nor Peter are good at masking their emotions; not fully. 

Which is why tonight is so odd. They’ve decided to watch a movie and Peter’s the typical movie picker because he does a surprisingly good job. He’s picked out Back to the Future and while he beams as the opening credits start to play, he immediately makes his way to Tony’s side and curls up. Tony frowns down at him, murmuring something too soft for the others to catch. Peter just shrugs and turns his attention back to the film. Tony’s frown doesn’t leave, though he too looks back at the movie even if an arm wraps itself around Peter. 

The Libiyans appear on screen and there’s gunfire and it’s horribly fake and Clint and Wanda are yelling at Marty not to get in the DeLorean while Steve laughs and then-

“FRIDAY, sounds, lights, down, off.”

Clint starts to whine but Natasha slaps a hand over his mouth. Peter’s face is creased in pain, most of it hidden in Tony’s shirt. Tony is shushing him, turning to Rhodey, who’s sitting in the armchair to their left. “Rhodes, be a doll and get Pete’s headphones.”

Rhodey nods, rummaging through Peter’s backpack and coming up empty. He looks at Tony, lost, and Tony just sighs. “Pete?”

Peter whimpers, hands clapping over his ears despite how Tony had spoken in barely a whisper. 

“Too loud?” A nod. “Eyes?” Peter makes a so-so gesture and Tony taps something out on his phone before holding it up. Peter eeks open one eye, squinting at the screen, which has been turned all the way down.

“Bedroom,” he manages to mouth.

Tony types that out and shows Rhodey. The colonel disappears and returns minutes later with noise cancelling headphones. He hands them to Tony, who slides them over Peter’s head with infinite care. Peter instantly breathes a sigh of relief, Tony massaging his wrist as his breaths become deeper.

“Is he alright Tony?” Steve asks.

Tony just tucks Peter under his chin. “Too much input. He’ll be right so-...Actually, ‘Tasha, pass my glasses to Rhodey?”

She rolls her eyes, bypassing him as she hands the sunglasses over. Tony happily takes them from Rhoday, tapping the frames, causing a tiny blue lights to run through it. “FRIDAY, dim to 5%.”

The glasses visibly darken, Tony sliding them onto Peter’s face, Peter blinking up at him. He then grins. “Wow Dad, this is awesome!”

Tony lets out a bark of laughter. He doesn’t answer though, just asks FRIDAY to turn the movie back on. And so, movie night continues.

***

+1.

Peter Parker has a curfew. It’s 10P.M. on a school night and midnight on weekends. Spiderman has one too and it’s pretty much identical, although he can get away with staying out until midnight most nights if he has a good enough excuse. 

(He always does.)

However, today it’s 1A.M. and Peter’s neither home nor fighting crime. Karen tells FRIDAY, who passes the news onto Tony. Tony’s out of bed before he’s fully aware of it, tossing a hasty apology over his shoulder to Pepper. He’s already summoning the suit, demanding a location from FRIDAY. Tony grinds to a halt though when he’s informed Peter is on the landing pad outside. He beelines there, pushing open the door and wincing at the cold. Sure enough, Peter is there, sitting on the edge of the platform, feet swinging and still in his suit even if the mask is off. It’s not until Tony gets closer that he sees the tears running down Peter’s face.

“Pete, buddy?”

Peter doesn’t move, just curls further in and sniffs loudly. 

Tony sits down beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Peter shakes his head but lets his head fall onto Tony’s shoulder. Tony sighs, hand shifting up to rake through Peter’s curls, as sweaty and matted as they are. The wind rips through his sleepshirt and Tony has to suppress a shiver. It makes him hope Peter’s suit is keeping him warm. 

“I...I couldn’t...He shot her.”

Tony stiffens. “Oh Pete.”

Peter sobs loudly. “I...I’m Spiderman Dad! I have to save people! That’s what I-...I look out for the little guy!”

“And I’m IronMan,” Tony says levelly, jaw set as he feels rather than sees Peter look up at him. “And Peter, I can’t keep track of the number of people I haven’t saved. If I did…”

“You’d go insane?” Peter chuckles wetly.

Tony sends him a look. “Jury’s already out on that one kid. But you know what I can do?”

A shake of the head.

“I can look at those I did save. Like for you, you remember Washington, right? Didn’t you save your decathlon team? Pete, that’s a whole school club you saved right there. Ted, Ed, he’s alive because of you.”

Peter’s bottom lip wobbles and then he throws himself into Tony’s arms. Tony draws him in, lips pressing against the top of his head briefly. “Thanks Dad.”

“You’re welcome.” He then claps his hands together. “Now get inside Spiderman, it’s freezing out here!”

“Oh, right, sorry!”

And if they come inside to Pepper holding out mugs of cocoa, they aren’t going to complain. 

***