Chapter Text
THREE MONTHS LATER:
“Tony, can I come over?” Peter asked, somewhat urgently, as soon as his father-figure answered his call. A few days after being discharged from the med-bay for the injuries he’d sustained during his fall in the fight, the teen had started consistently calling the mechanic by his first name instead of the hated Mr Stark that he’d been stuck with for a year or so. It felt symbolic of their relationship, somehow: their previous acknowledgement of their love for each other had resulted in a complete removal of the formal title Peter had used for so long.
“Of course, kid,” Tony answered, a small panicked knot forming in his stomach at the slight urgency in the teen’s voice. “Are you okay? Do I need to get Helen to prep the med-bay?”
“No!” he exclaimed, before catching himself and continuing in a more measured tone. “No, I’m fine, promise. I just, um, really need your help. If you’re not busy.”
The mechanic sighed. “We’ve talked about this kid- a problem shared is a problem halved. I’m in the lab if you want to meet down here, or I can come up to the kitchen if you want a snack like you normally do after school.”
“Are the rest of the team there?” he asked, his voice unreadable.
The question threw Tony off. Peter never normally wanted to avoid seeing the other Avengers, who had taken him in as a sort of team mascot shortly after meeting him for the first time. For him to indirectly if they could meet without the team knowing was . . . concerning to say the least.
“Just everyone’s favourite pair of fossils, I think,” the man replied, referring to Cap and Bucky- the couple that had the hearts of the nation. “You want me to ask them to go up to their private floor?”
“No it’s fine, can I just meet you in your lab?” Peter asked.
“Are you still at school? I can send Happy to come pick you up,” the older man offered.
“I’ve gotta go home and grab something first so I’ll just swing over after, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah okay, see you in a bit, kiddo.”
“Thank you for this, Tony, really,” Peter said, his voice sincere. Tony felt something warm pool in his stomach.
“Anytime, Pete,” he said, meaning it, before they said their goodbyes and hung up.
--------
Tony tinkered distractedly around the lab for a half hour or so, before going up to the kitchen to make a coffee. While he was blowing the steam from the top of the Spider-man mug that Peter had excitedly bought him the first time he’d seen Spider-man merch, he heard the elevator doors slide open and the light patter of spider-feet on the lounge carpet.
“Pete, I’m in the kitchen!” he called, before the kid could start walking down the stairs to the mechanic’s private lab. The kid emerged a split-second later, carrying three clothes hangers together with a bin bag covering them for protection. His backpack was slung over his shoulder, and his cheeks were a little red from having swung across the city.
“Hey, Tony,” he greeted, gingerly laying the clothes over the island in the middle of the kitchen before grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl.
“Hey yourself, kiddo, how was school?” he asked, a familiar lightness settling over him at the domesticity of the situation.
Peter shrugged. “I had a physics test, but I think it went pretty well,” he said, before grinning as he remembered something. “MJ started an argument with our teacher in our literature class! He asked for some strong guys to help him carry all the textbooks down from the library, so MJ lectured him about sexism in the educational environment and then her and Betty went and carried all the boxes down by themselves, it was brilliant!”
Tony mirrored his grin, “tell her I said good job.”
The teen saluted, “yessir.”
The mechanic patted the clothes on the island in question as he sipped at his coffee. Peter smiled at him weakly.
“Um, I really need your help with something, but you have to promise not to laugh at me, okay?” he asked, sheepishly.
Tony’s brows furrowed. “Of course, Pete. You know you can come to me with anything.”
Peter threw the remnants of his apple core away, and then pulled the trash bag cover over the hangers, revealing a nice- but understated- two piece suit. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a bow tie, a blush rising on his cheeks.
“Can you tie it for me?” he asked, his voice so insecure that Tony felt his heart clench painfully.
The mechanic’s eyes softened as he took the bow tie and handed the suit to the kid. “I’d love to,” he answered, voice soft. “What’s the suit for?”
Despite Tony not thinking it was possible, the boy’s blush deepened.
“I, um, might have a-asked MJ on a date? And the place we’re going to is . . . nice, um, really nice. But we’re meeting in an hour, a-and I tried to watch tutorials but I kept getting all muddled, and uncle Ben always said he’d teach me when I was older but . . . “ he trailed off, uncertain, before looking up at his father-figure through his eyelashes. Tony caught the unspoken end of the sentence and nodded minutely in acknowledgement.
“Of course I’ll help you, kiddo. And go you finally asking her out!”
The mechanic was relieved to see the teen’s shy smile blossom into a sincere one.
“Thanks,” he said, something proud lining the word. He took the suit from Tony and headed into the nearest bathroom to change.
Tony sat in one of the stools at the island, spinning in a lazy circle as he closed his eyes and smiled.
His kid was going on his first date!
When the kid came back out in his suit, Tony felt his heart skip a beat. The boy normally looked young for his age, granted, but standing here in his suit (albeit without his tie yet) he looked far more mature than Tony was ready for him to be.
“Look at you, squirt!” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair fondly. “All suited and booted for your date!”
The kid ducked his head bashfully, but Tony could clearly see the smile on his face.
“Ready for me to wow you with my tie-tying skills?” He asked the young hero.
“Please,” Peter said, still smiling.
The teen lifted his head, so Tony had access to his collar, quickly threading the tie through and making quick work of it. A few seconds later, his kid was standing in front of him, eyes bright, ready to take his girl on a date in a suit. Alarmingly to Tony, his vision blurred with tears and he hastily rubbed his eyes before Peter could see.
The kid, ever the perceptive hero, saw him swiping his tears away and hugged him tightly, careful of not crushing the perfectly tied bow tie around his neck.
“Please don’t cry,” Peter said softly, and Tony took a shaky breath.
“I’m so proud of you, kiddo,” he murmured, and Peter’s own eyes filled with tears.
“Thank you, Tony,” he whispered, and it sounded like he was thanking him for far more than tying his tie.
“No, Pete,” the mechanic said, equally as soft, his heart warm with love for his kid, “thank you.”