Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“But Mr Stark, I didn’t think it was important and I didn’t want to bother you w-”

“Kid, we’ve spoken about this,” Tony pointed out, and Peter broke eye contact in favour of staring at his old faded sneakers that seem so out of place in Tony’s penthouse at the Avengers Tower. “If you have to think about whether it’s important enough to tell me, that means it is important enough to tell me. You’re not a bother, Pete, you’re the best kid I know. We clear?”

Peter looked up and meets the kind eyes of his . . . mentor? Father-figure? Hero? He wasn’t sure, but he nodded his understanding anyway.

“I promise,” the teen said, his facial expressions open and sincere. Tony smiled and ruffled Peter’s brown curls, before seeing that it was dinner time and throwing his arm around the younger hero, leading them both towards the kitchen.

“You hungry, kiddo?” He asked, keenly aware of the teen’s enhanced metabolism and his equally strong habit of not asking for something - even as simple as food- when he needed it.

Peter hopped onto one of the stools at the large kitchen island and spun it round in a lazy circle, before nodding his head. Tony rolled his eyes fondly at the sight of the boy in his old MIT jumper, run down jeans and scruffy shoes and then started cracking some eggs into a pan for omelettes. They slipped into their usual dinner routine; Peter talking animatedly about his recent patrol, hands moving so quickly they became a blur as the boy mimed throwing webs and fighting Queen’s local bad guys, and Tony pretending that he didn’t find it absolutely adorable listening to his excitable reenactments. When the omelettes were cooked and slipped onto plates, he sat himself on the stool next to the teen and the pair started bouncing ideas off each other about potential options for Hawkeye’s new arrows- Tony still hadn’t succeeded in finding a way to make explosive arrows that would only be explosive when necessary so they could be used as standard arrows when it was unsafe to be causing explosions. The teen suggested a fuse design that could be fitted to the side of the arrows that Clint could break quickly when he drew them from his quiver if he didn’t want the explosive feature, and the older man was once again blown away by the pure brilliance of this kid.

After they’d finished eating, Peter jumped up to wash the plates, despite Tony’s protests that that’s exactly what his cleaning bots are for.

“Do you really trust Butterfingers with anything?” The teen asked, his back to his mentor as he scrubbed away. “Like, even plates? Because I’m pretty sure he’d manage to set the water on fire or something. I mean seriously, Mr Stark, one time he was just kinda hovering around me when I was drinking some water after a patrol so I gave him my cup to refill and he came back with a cup of   motor oil - not . . . not that your bots aren’t great Mr Stark, I mean they’re really amazing and way better than anything I cou-”

“I’m gonna stop right you there, Pete. I made Butterfingers when I was bored and there were no murderous aliens trying to take over the world, so I know better than anyone that he’s far from perfect. Don’t stress out about it.”

The plates clinked against the stainless steel draining board as the young hero stacked them up to dry, then grinning and shooting two webs to the centre of the kitchen’s ridiculously high ceiling. Peter pulled his arms back to his sides, propelling himself into the air with his webs, and somersaulted neatly twice in the air before landing gracefully in front of Tony with a shit-eating grin. He knew that the older man would pretend that he wasn’t impressed, but secretly loved seeing what Peter was capable of. Sure enough, the mechanic closed his eyes, massaging his temples in the universal why is this happening to me? gesture and sighing dramatically.

“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna send me to an early grave,” the billionaire joked, still massaging his temples with his eyes closed. Because of this, Tony never saw how quickly Peter’s face paled as he stumbled back a few steps in dreaded realisation. Tony Stark will leave you and it will be your fault, just like your parents and uncle Ben’s deaths were your fault. Tony Stark will leave you because everyone leaves you. The older man never saw the absolute terror in the boy’s eyes- eyes that were suddenly glistening with tears- caused by his thoughtless words: the teen’s breathing became shallow, still too quiet to get picked up by the inventor’s unenhanced hearing, as he wiped his eyes hastily with the back of hands to drag the tears away before they fell.

He jerkily regained his footing, taking a few deep breaths, and saw Tony reopen his eyes with a smile. Peter forced a similar smile to his face, the effort of curving his lips draining him.

He tried to pretend that the thoughts that always echoed at the back of mind weren’t now circling at the forefront of his thoughts like poison. Tony Stark will leave you and it will be your fault, just like your parents and uncle Ben’s deaths were your fault. Tony Stark will leave you because everyone leaves you.

After just a few horrid seconds of pretending he wasn’t completely crumpling inside, he coughed to clear his throat and said, “Oh, I just remembered that aunt May wanted me back early to help her with something. Could we maybe work on Clint’s arrows another time? I-If that’s ok with you, Mr Stark?”

Tony cocked his head to the side, like he was trying to figure out a particularly complex puzzle, before nodding. “Of course, kiddo. Is it something that you and aunt hottie need a billionaire mechanic’s help with?”

Peter shook his head immediately. “No, it’s just, er . . . groceries. I carry the heavy stuff for her so she doesn’t have to struggle up the stairs.”

“Riiiiight,” the inventor said, dragging out the vowel in a manner that perfectly conveyed how unconvinced he was by this lie. Peter’s eerily pale skin flushed a little at the cheeks- he knew his lie was awful but he was overcome by the urge that he needed to get away from Mr Stark before he burst into tears or something equally as embarrassing “You need Happy to give you a ride home?”

“I’m good, but thanks Mr Stark,” he said, politely.

“See you this Saturday then, squirt,” Tony said, in place of a goodbye.

“Uh huh, see you then, sir,” Peter replied automatically, before opening the nearest window and climbing out.

“Sir makes me sound ancient, kid!” The mechanic yelled out the window to the quickly shrinking silhouette of Spiderman.

Peter had tears streaming down his face a split second after he’d turned away from the window, the mask’s material dampening uncomfortably as he disabled Karen for the night. A choked sob rose out of his throat as he webbed his way back to Queen’s and slid into his room through the window. He decompressed his suit and threw it into the corner of his room, the mask following quickly behind it. He cried and sobbed and gasped for air for what felt like hours, until his throat felt scratched and dry and he could feel the dried path of his tears trailing idly down his face.

When he eventually fell into a fitful sleep, his nightmares were plagued by renewed fears.

You’re going to get Tony Stark killed, like you got your parents and uncle killed, and then you’ll end up getting May killed, and then you’re going to be alone. Everyone will leave you, Peter, because you doom everyone you love.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Peter avoided Tony for two weeks. He didn’t answer any of the mechanic’s calls, and asked Happy to drop him home instead of at the Avengers Tower when the driver came to pick him up. Most of the teen’s nights were spent with panic attacks plaguing him before he fell asleep, and nightmares of Tony and May dying in front of him after he fell asleep.

He didn’t know what to do. He knew he couldn’t keep ignoring his mentor, and he was proven correct when a knock sounded on his front door and he opened it to see Captain freaking America standing there in jeans, a white t-shirt and a well fitted leather jacket, smiling sheepishly.

“Hey, kid,” the older hero said kindly, “is it ok if I come in?”

“S-sure,” Peter stammered, shuffling out of the way to let his new guest in. They made their way to the front room and sat on the couch, the teen tucking his legs underneath him.

“What’s up, Captain?” Peter asked, before his eyes blew wide with panic, and questions fell from his mouth in a torrent, “Did something happen? Oh my God, is Mr Stark ok? Did I miss a mission? I should have known this wou-“

Steve threw his hands up, palms facing in out in a placating manner, and rushed to reassure him. “Everyone’s fine, kid, don’t worry- we would have let you know if we needed you on a mission. I just came by to see if you knew why Tony was acting so strangely. He’s been holed up in his labs for a couple of weeks and he’s hardly coming out- me and Bucky didn’t think it was a coincidence that we haven’t seen you around the Tower for the same amount of time that he’s been acting strange. Have you two had an argument?”

There was no emotion on Steve’s face other than pure concern for the welfare of both the superheroes, and Peter felt his resolve to keep his fears to himself crumble.

“We haven’t had an argument,” Peter said, quietly. He looked down at his lap as he fiddled with the rim of his electron t-shirt. “He just said something when I was at the tower, and it just kinda put some things in perspective. I’ll still be here if you need me for missions and stuff, I just don’t think I’ll be able to be at the tower for a little while.”

“What did he say to you?” Steve asked gently, voice painfully sincere.

Peter shrugged, “it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it stops you wanting to be around Tony, kid, you guys were practically inseparable when you were in the same building.”

“I do want to be around Mr Stark!” the teen explained, “I just … can’t be.”

Steve rested one hand on the boy’s shoulder, encouraging him to meet his eye. When Peter made eye contact, Steve continued speaking.

“Why not, Peter? You can tell me anything, and I promise I won’t tell Tony if you don’t want me to.”

Tears suddenly filled the boy’s chocolate brown eyes, and the older man pulled him into a hug, arms wrapped tightly around his upper body. Peter fisted his hands into the Captain’s white shirt, tears streaming down his cheeks as he choked on a few half-aborted sobs.

“Everything’s going to be ok, kid, I promise. We’ll sort out whatever’s going on- with me and the rest of our team we can sort out what’s wrong, Peter,” he soothed, rubbing small circles into the boy’s back.

Peter hiccuped against his chest and then mumbled something into his damp shirt, incomprehensible even to his enhanced ears.

“Could you say that one more time for me, Peter?” he asked, listening carefully.

“Everyone I love dies,” the boy mumbled softly, like he’d come to accept this as a hard truth of his world, “I can’t let that happen to Mr Stark, too.” He sobbed again, and Captain America hugged him even more tightly, but not uncomfortably so.

“Oh, kid, I promise you that’s not true,” Steve murmured. “Distancing yourself from Tony will only hurt you both more in the long run-“

An alarm sounded from Cap’s StarkWatch, the digital screen flashing red as he unwound himself from Peter and jumped up from the couch.

“I’m so sorry, Peter, but I’ve really got to go. I’ll come back after the mission and see how you’re doing, ok?”

Peter shook his head and got to his feet quickly, “I need to come one the mission! I’ll come with you and help!” Before Cap could even respond, the boy was darting into the bedroom and suiting up. He re-emerged a few seconds later, mask in one hand.

“Kid, it’s not safe for you to come with us,” Steve explained, gently. “If anything happened to you, Tony wou-“

“I’ll be fine - what’s the point in being enhanced if I still can’t help people? You can’t stop me,” he said, in a defiance that was out of character for the boy.

Steve rolled his eyes, but was already slinging his shield over his shoulder and opening the front door. “Fine,” he conceded. “But you do exactly as Tony and I say, and no self-sacrificing, you understand?”

The nod that came in response was so eager it looked to be whiplash-inducing.

“Thank you, Mr Rogers, sir!”

And with that, the pair left to meet the team and save Queens from the dangerous alien tech being used sixteen blocks away.

***** * ******************

Suited up and ready to join the fight, Steve and Peter jumped straight into the fray; Captain America taking down the criminals wielding the alien tech as they fired bright purple laser beams at the Avengers, Spider-man swinging in and getting the innocent civilians who were in the line of fire out of the way.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Capsicle,” Tony grumbled, but there was no malice behind the words.

“I had an errand to run,” Steve answered smoothly, before pausing and flinging his shield at the ragged looking man running towards him with a dangerous looking device in his hands. When the man dropped to the floor, he continued speaking. “Now, don’t freak out Tony, but Peter’s here to move civilians to safety. He won’t be actively fighting.”

Steve ducked behind his shield to avoid the beam shooting towards him, and saw Peter swinging high above him with a young child clinging tightly to his chest.

“You bought m- the kid to fight against alien tech? What the fuck , Rogers?” Tony seethed.

Peter deposited the young child a few blocks away, a safe distance from the alien tech. He swung back to the fight, looking for more civilians in the shops and flats lining the street.

“You know as well as the rest of us that Pete can look after himself,” Bucky reasoned. as he rolled a grenade that stopped right at the feet of one of their enemies.“He’s just moving the innocents out of the way and then he can either help from the sidelines or you can send him home. Steve hasn’t done anything wrong.”

The mechanic heaved a sigh over the comms.

“Fine, but if anything happens to hi-“

“Um, sorry to interrupt, Mr Stark,” Peter said, voice so quiet the team could barely distinguish it over the sounds of the fight, “but there’s no more people to move. Shall I help you guys with the bad guys?”

“No kid,” Stark said, not unkindly. He levelled his repulsors at the next enemy he came across, blasting them into the side of a block of apartments. “You’ve done a great job but we’ve got this covered.”

Peter rolled his eyes from where he perched on a rooftop surveying the fight below him. He couldn’t leave his team here to fight by themselves! The teen flicked a web to the building on the other side of the street and tightroped across to join Clint as he shot arrows down from the roof.

“Hey kid,” Hawkeye greeted with a quick wave before he notched another arrow into his bow. “Long time no see- you been avoiding us at the tower?”

Peter’s spider-sense suddenly screamed and he whirled round to see one of the tech-users trying to sneak up on them from behind. He shot a web at the device and retracted his arm quickly to pull it out of the man’s hands with a small thwip , before firing more webs to secure him to the floor. Natasha or another SHIELD agent would come and deal with him when the fight was over.

“I’m not avoiding you guys,” Peter finally answered. “ I’ve just had … a lot of homework. I’d always be there if you needed me on a mission, though, like today.”

Clint raised a brow at him in question. “I’m pretty certain Tony deliberately didn’t alert you to this mission so that you’d be safe, so I’m not even gonna ask how you knew to come here. And I think I might need a word with your teachers if they’re giving you so much homework you can’t even spare an hour in two weeks to come and catch up with us,” his facial expressions softened as he looked the boy in the eye. “We missed you, man.”

Something warm pooled in Peter’s stomach at the words, and he smiled sincerely at the acher.

“I missed you guys, too,” the younger hero admitted. “Now I’ve really gotta go and stop some of these bad guys.”

He got to his feet and prepared to swing down to the street.

“Kid! Tony said you’ve done your job for today, you can go home!” Clint yelled as he shot a web at a lamppost below them. Peter politely ignored him and jumped off the six story building. “Stark’s gonna kill me,” the archer mumbled to himself as the boy disappeared over the edge.

As Peter swung over the fight, taking the opportunity to help his teammates when he could, he let the voices in the comms become background noise. At least, he let it fade to the background until he heard someone shouting his name as he fought hand-to-hand with one of he tech-users and finally tuned back into what was being said.

“Kid, Peter! You need to go, now ! You’re gonna get yourself hurt and Bruce has Hulked out so we have no medics,” Tony ordered as he landed next to Spider-man and angled his repulsors to hit the attacker square in the chest and get him away from Peter.

“But I can help, Mr Stark!” The teen argued, and it was the first time he’d addressed his mentor face-to-face in two weeks. The Iron-Man mask lifted up, and Peter immediately recognised the fear on Tony’s face, even as he tried to hide it under indifference.

“There’s no time to argue about this, Pete. You need to go home and I’ll come round later and we can sort out whatever seems to have happened between us that’s got you avoiding me like the plague, ok?” Even though Tony wasn’t truly asking, Peter could easily detect the pleading in the words after working so closely with him over the last few months.

Spider-man’s shoulders hunched in defeat and he nodded. “Ok. Stay safe, guys,” he said to everyone over the comms. He was met by a chorus of you too! s, and Bucky and Steve even thanked him for helping clear out the civilians, promising to see him round the tower soon.

“I’ll see you later then, Mr Stark,” he said, and was caught slightly off guard when the older man pulled him in for a quick hug before dropping his arms back to his sides like he’d been possessed when he’d initiated the hug.

“See you later, kiddo.” The Iron-Man mask lowered and Pete threw out a web as Tony flew off. He swung into the air as he started the quick journey home, when suddenly something snapped his web and  he was free-falling from six stories up.

His arms pinwheeled desperately as the ground rushed up to meet him, the concrete becoming a grey blur as he tried to aim a web at the lamppost that was almost level with him. A panicked noise escaped his mouth as he saw the web miss, and he vaguely made out Bucky and Tony shouting to him over the comms before he suddenly flipped in the air and crashed into the concrete. His arms, which had instinctively stuck themselves in front of his body to brace the impact, cracked horribly and Peter screamed as pain blacked out his vision for a second. He tried to push himself up to stand but his elbows were both at horrible angles on the ground, something white poking out of the suit material at his elbows. He gagged when he realised it was bone and retched onto the sidewalk, head spinning from the pain and lower arms still numb.

“Peter! What happened? Are you safe?” Bucky’s panicked voice asked.

“F-fell. It h-hurts,” Peter stammered. He bit back a whimper as another wave of pain overcame him.

“Fri, track his location,” Tony ordered, and the teen’s muscles subconsciously relaxed a fraction at the voice of his father-figure. “We’re on our way, kid, just hold tight for one second.”

“Mr Stark, I-I can’t move m-my arms,” the boy choked, tears tracking down his face.

“You’re gonna be fine, squirt, I promise,” the mechanic was quick to reassure. Tony flew down the street towards the location F.R.I.D.A.Y indicated, and saw Bucky rounding the corner just in front of him. The pair caught sight of the boy at the same time and jerked to a horrified stop. Bucky’s flesh hand was bought up to his mouth in fear and Tony’s left arm started tingling as his heart began palpitating in his chest.

Peter. His kid.

He disengaged the suit and stumbled over to Peter, who was laying face down on the concrete in a slowing growing puddle of his own blood. Bile rose in his throat as he caught sight of the bones protruding from both of his elbows- evidence that he’d tried to catch himself as he had plummeted towards the ground.

The billionaire heard Bucky calling Natasha to check in on their Code Green and whether Banner was back to himself and capable of offering medical help; the answer must have been a negative because the super-soldier immediately started barking to Helen Cho and her team back at the tower. Bucky told them to be ready for their arrival in ten minutes.

“We’ll be there in five,” Tony interrupted, suddenly coming to his senses and sprinting the rest of the way to the younger hero.

“Peter!” he exclaimed when he reached him, hands hovering uselessly over the boy’s prone body. “Are you with me, kiddo?”

Please, no. Not Peter. Anyone but Peter.

An intelligible groan was all the repsonse he got, but he clung to it like a lifeline. He turned to look at Bucky, who was just hanging up on Helen and her team. “Barnes, get over here and help me with him.”

Tony, despite his publicly known atheism, muttered a prayer under his breath and called to F.R.I.D.A.Y for a quinjet. The A.I informed him that one would be in the vicinity in two minutes, and he set to work calming the shaking teen.

“We’re gonna get you all patched up in no time, squirt, and you’ll be back to wearing your stupidly nerdy shirts and swinging around Queen’s.”

Ultimately, he wasn’t sure who his words were meant to be reassuring the most, but when Bucky took off his shirt and began layering over Peter’s back, he looked at his own hands and realised how alarmingly shaky they were. He felt the beginnings of a panic attack stir within him, but forced it back down so he could focus on his kid.

Tony’s left arm was also completely numb.

“B’cky?” Peter murmurs, eyes blinking blearily. “Y-you gotta c-call aun’ May.”

“Hey, hey, Pete, you’re going to be fine,” the super-soldier said with a forced smile. “Tony’s right, and you know I wouldn’t admit unless it was true.”

The rumbling of the quinjet’s engines loudened as it landed just behind them, medics rushing forward with a stretcher between them.

Tony felt some of his tension loosen as he realised that he wasn’t helpless now: he could tell the medical team what had happened and stick by the kid’s side so he didn’t get scared.

He put his suit into shadow mode so it didn’t get left behind, and succinctly informed the medics of the two open compound fractures on Spider-man;s elbows before pushing Bucky- who had frozen to the spot- onto the jet and returning to Peter’s side as they prepared to move him onto the stretcher.

“Pete, you still with me, kiddo?” he asked gently, brushing a damp curl out of the boy’s eyes. He chose to ignore how blatantly paternal the gesture was. Peter’s eyes fluttered back open, and locked onto Tony’s with fierce determination as he nodded slowly with a grimace. “The medical team need to get you onto the stretcher, but I won’t lie to you, Pete, it’s going to hurt. I need you to be really brave and let them move you without you struggling- can you do that for me, squirt?”

“‘M brave,” the boy mumbled. “‘M Spider-man.”

Without thinking, Tony pressed a kiss to the younger hero’s fevered forehead, “I know you’re brave, kid, you’re the bravest hero I’ve ever met.”

He nodded to the medics, who were all in position, and they counted to three before lifting him up and placing him onto the stretcher in one fluid movement. That still didn’t stop the blood-curdling sound that Peter screamed out as his broken arms were jostled, and tears filled Tony’s eyes at the horrific noise. The teen laid on the stretcher, sobbing, as they moved him onto the quinjet and began a blood transfusion and discussed resetting his elbows before his enhanced healing kicked in.

“Mr S’ark? B’cky?” the kid asked, sounding lost, and both men immediately took up position on either side of him. Spider-man exhaled shakily as they entered his field of vision.

He knew they would keep him safe.

“We’re right here, Peter,” Bucky reassured, placing his flesh arm on the teen’s shoulders, and Tony mirrored the action.

“I th-think I messed up my suit. ‘M sorry, won’ happen ‘gain.”

The mechanic ruffled the kid’s hair, forcing a light-hearted chuckle, “Don’t worry about it kid- I’m a billionaire, remember? And you’re damn right this won’t happen again.”

“Gonna be ‘kay?” Peter mumbled, as the enhanced anaesthetic entered his system and his eyes started to droop closed.

“Yeah, you’re going to be just fine, I promise,” Tony said, surprised when he felt tears dripping down his cheeks. He glanced across to Bucky, who was desperately trying to school his face into something neutral; even after Wakanda had helped reverse HYDRA’s brainwashing, he still didn’t always do well showing strong emotion. Steve seemed to be the only person he could truly be comfortable around, but as long as they were both happy, Tony wasn’t going to argue about it.

“No’ me,” Peter clumsily corrected through a drug-induced haze, “You gonna be ‘kay?”

A choked noise escaped the billionaire at the innocence of this boy that he had taken under his wing and failed so spectacularly.

“Don’t worry about me, Pete,” he forced out, wiping away his tears.

The teen blinked up at him in confusion, before checking Bucky was still with him. He smiled in that infinitely innocent way only Peter could achieve.

“Tha’s what fam’ly does,” he murmured, before his eyes finally closed and he was lost to unconsciousness.

****** **** *****

When Peter woke up, six hours and two bone resettings later, he first faintly registered the quiet voices in his room and turned his head to see who was speaking.

At the back of the Med-bay room were two seats occupied by Bucky and Steve as Bucky leaned against Steve’s side with his eyes closed. The Captain had wrapped a supportive arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder, his other hand holding Bucky’s flesh hand. The position radiated love and safety.

“Hey,” Peter said, voice cracking with disuse. Before the word had even left his mouth, a chair he hadn’t even seen was being pushed back and suddenly Tony rushing over to him.

“ Peter ,” the mechanic breathed, like it was a prayer. He took the boy’s nearest hand in his and held it gently, using his other hand to brush curly brown hair away from those chocolate eyes. “You’re ok, you’re safe now. Helen patched up your arms and your super-healing has made them practically good as new. Do you need anything?”

He shook his head and then squeezed Tony’s hand when it became obvious that he was stressed. The older man’s eyes were bloodshot, his suit crumpled, and his hair was haphazard in a way that didn’t suit his usually immaculate exterior. Guilt flickered inside Peter when he realised he had caused this.

“‘M sorry for scaring you,” he said, quietly.

“Don’t sweat it, kid- just don’t do it again, please.” Although said light-heartedly, the pleading behind those words were painfully obvious, and Peter vowed to be more careful on future missions.

“Kid!” Bucky exclaimed, as he hurried to Peter’s side, dragging Steve along behind him by the hand. The Winter Soldier’s smile was sincere in a way that was usually only elicited from Steve, and his eyes were bright. “How’re you feeling?”

“Great, Mr Bucky,” he replied, not wanting to make a fuss. “How are you feeling?”

Steve and Bucky rolled their eyes at the same time.

“Peter, if something’s hurting, you need to tell us. Steve used the same enhanced anaesthetics as you, and even he admits that sometimes it wears off sooner than he’d like. You don’t need to lie to us if you’re in pain,” Bucky said, kindly.

Peter’s cheeks tinted a little red with embarrassment. “My arms hurt a bit. And the lights are a little bright,” he finally admitted.

“F.R.I., dim the lights 50 percent, please,” Tony ordered, ruffling the teen’s hair when the lights dimmed and he let out a relieved sigh.

“Thanks Mr Stark.”

“Don’t mention it, squirt,” he said, smiling.

“Glad to see you feeling better, son,” Steve said, squeezing Peter’s shoulder gently, “but I’ve got to go and check on the clear-up operation for the mission. I’ll come by later and show what I sketched while we were waiting for you to wake up, if you like?”

“Th-that would be amazing, Captain, sir, thank you,” Peter replies eagerly, his eyes bright.

Tony chuckled at the star-struck response as Bucky left with promises of coming back later with Nintendo Switch and a quick but tight hug.

When the two super-soldiers were gone, Peter sighed dramatically.

“The Winter Solider hugged me and Captain America called me son- apart from breaking both my arms earlier I think this was the best day of my life. Ned’s going to absolutely freak when I tell him what happened, oh my god ,” he rambled.

A huff of laughter escaped the mechanic.

“Iron-man better still be your favourite Avenger, kiddo, or we’re going to have some serious issues,” he joked. Peter looked up at him with sincerity etched across his face, eyes wide and honest, and Tony was again taken aback by how trusting this boy was of him. It would be so easy to manipulate the teen’s blatant hero-worship, but the billionaire knew he would never, could never, twist something so pure.

“Of course you’re my favourite Avenger, Mr Stark! You built your suit out of scraps and then invented an new element and an arc reactor, and then you put a team together to try and save the world- you’ll always be my favourite,” Peter said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Tony felt tears prick the corner of his eyes at the knowledge that Peter had been a fan of Tony Stark long before he was a fan of Iron-Man. Most of the world was mesmerised by his superhero suit but not nearly as many cared about the playboy that stood inside it. He knuckled the tears out of his eyes with one hand and used the other to squeeze the teen’s in thanks before sighing and realising that they still hadn’t resolved Peter’s recent avoidance.

“Kid, we’ve still got to talk about your little radio silence these last couple of weeks. Did someone at the tower say something to you? Did I do something wrong?”

The teen shook his head, curls falling into his face that Tony then swept back. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said quietly, avoiding the mechanic’s gaze.

“I know, squirt, but if it’s something I can fix then I’ll gladly do it- if it was something I did then let me apologise, yeah?”

The teen’s eyes squeezed close, but not in time to stop a few tears slipping out.

“Everyone I love dies because of me,” he murmured, turning his head away from the older man so his closed eyes were facing the wall.

Tony sat in silence for a moment, trying to decipher the message he was clearly meant to have understood. Was Peter saying he was worried about May getting hurt if anyone linked Peter Parker with the honorary Avengers member Spider-man?

“You and May can move into the tower if that makes you feel better about working with the Avengers. We’d keep her safe from being targeted if your identity ever got discovered,” he offered, knowing that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make Peter happy and wanting to be around the team - around Tony - again.

The teen’s tense shoulders drooped, and Tony figured he must have misunderstood the situation.

“That’s not . . . I- I wasn’t talking about May,” he murmured, eyes peeking open to hesitantly meet the billionaire's. “You’re my family too, I love you .”

Oh, Tony thought to himself, his genius brain incapable of absorbing the magnitude of the boy’s words. Peter is scared to lose to you too.

A small choked noise escaped the young hero at his mentor’s silence, and he balled the sheet covering him between his fists as tears sprung to his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr Stark, I know you d-don’t feel the same and I sh-shouldn’t-“

“ Kid ,” Tony interrupted the apologetic rambling, kicking himself for not realising that his silence has been interpreted as a rejection of the teen’s love. “Peter, please don’t apologise- you’ve done nothing wrong. I’m . . . not very good with this sort of stuff about feelings and whatnot, but you should know that you’re my family too, kiddo. I-I love you Pete.”

Peter’s jaw dropped when he met the billionaire’s eyes and saw the honesty shining there like a beacon.

“I won’t lie to you and promise that I won’t get hurt on missions, but I promise you that I will never abandon you, Pete,” Tony’s voice was thick with both emotion and fierce determination. “Not now, not ever. You’re stuck with me til I’m old and not quite as extremely good looking as I am now, you hear me?”

“Thank you, Mr Stark,” Peter whispered, eyes glistening. “ Thank you .”

Tony pressed a kiss into Peter’s hairline, no longer caring about how parental the action was.

He loved this kid, and this kid loved him, no matter how undeserving the older man thought he was.

“Now buckle up, kiddo, I promised Steve and Bucky they could join us for a Star Wars marathon as long as they keep their behaviour kid-friendly. I’m pretty sure Clint and Nat said they’d stop by with ice-cream later, too, if you’re feeling up for it.”

Peter smiled, his whole face lit up with joy. “That sounds perfect, Mr Stark.”

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.”