Chapter Text
When Peter walked down the stairs, he was immediately greeted with the smell of cooked beef. That made him perk up. The best that they would get at the Higgins’ was maybe some canned meats, if they were lucky; Mr and Mrs Higgins would always tell them that the kids didn’t deserve the ‘good stuff’, as they put it. Just the thought of the off-brand, disgusting SPAM they would serve made his nose wrinkle.
Miss Potts had shown him where the kitchen was on the way to his room earlier, and she’d mentioned off-handedly that they always had lunch there, at the kitchen island, so he made the assumption that she would be in there right now.
He was right, she was there, plating some veggies into various bowls. He peeked his head around the corner, noticing that Mr Stark was grabbing some plates and utensils from the cupboards. His heart immediately sped up. This was Peter’s equivalent of kids his age meeting Ariana Grande, or maybe Frank Ocean. For a moment, he considered going upstairs and waiting until Mr Stark had finished with lunch before coming down and eating, but he had been raised better than that.
“Ah! Peter, there you are, sweetheart,” Miss Potts’ voice washed over him warmly. That and he had been spotted. “Come here, Tony’s back. Why don’t you two get acquainted?”
Peter nodded slightly, stepping into the kitchen and walking towards the island, where Mr Stark was standing as he was setting down the plates and cutlery he was holding.
“Hi, Mr Stark,” Peter greeted quietly, a small smile on his face as he did so. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a big, big fan. You were my idol growing up.”
“Were?” The older man grinned, one eyebrow raised.
“I’m not into horses as much anymore,” Peter shrugged as he responded. That was a lie; he still loved the horses and the sport, he was just too afraid to step into that world again, because he knew it would become glaringly obvious how much he had missed it.
“Ah,” Mr Stark remarked, finally setting the last plate down and reaching out to clasp Peter on the shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, too, kid. I hope you’re liking the house so far. If there’s anything that’s missing, just let us know, and we’ll sort it right out for you.”
“No, Mr Stark,” Peter quickly shook his head, appalled that they were worried he might have higher standards. “Everything’s perfect, really. I love it. You don’t need to fix anything.”
“You say that now,” the older man joked, grinning. “But if there’s anything you want further down the line, don’t be afraid to ask. Why don’t you have a seat? Pep’s just grabbing the beef.”
Peter sat down at the far end of the island, looking at Mr Stark in shock when the man sat down right next to him. He still couldn’t comprehend that his childhood hero was now one of his foster parents, let alone that the man was actively being nice to him instead of just tolerating him. Both of them were so kind, after spending so much time at the Higgins’, he wasn’t sure what to do with that kindness anymore.
“So, Pete— is it alright if I call you that?” Tony paused, waiting for a response, and Peter nodded in return. Ben used to call him that sometimes; it was strange but nice to hear the nickname again. “Great! Well, Pete, I hope you’re not too upset about being pulled out of school. I’m sure you must have friends that you’re going to miss.”
Peter shrugged, an awkward smile on his face. Truth is, he didn’t have any friends in school. It sucked, big time, definitely, but he was also used to being alone. He knew that, realistically, a foster kid like him who pushed people away and shut them out had a low chance of making friends.
“No, not at all,” he murmured, watching as Miss Potts began to dish out food, smiling to himself when she served him as well. He hadn’t had anyone serve him food out of love since Aunt May. “I don’t have many friends, so I didn’t mind. I’m sure I’ll make some when school starts back up again.”
“Yeah, kid, me too,” Mr Stark murmured, clapping him on the shoulder softly.
Peter’s heart jumped at that. It made him feel like Mr Stark actually cared— he sounded like he actually cared. The nicknames, on top of all of it, were making him feel so welcome. He hadn’t heard anyone call him sweetie in a long time, and it seemed like Mr Stark was the type to dish out nicknames without a second thought. Peter silently wondered what nicknames Mr Stark would give him in the future.
“So, Peter,” Miss Potts smiled at him. “I hope what we’re having is okay with you. Do you have any food preferences, allergies, anything of the sort?”
“This is perfect, Miss Potts, thank you,” he reassured her, reaching over to grab some mustard for his food. “And I’m not too picky, not a big fan of quinoa and whole boiled chickpeas, but I like hummus— it’s a texture thing. No allergies as far as I know.”
“Yeah, I’m not a fan of boiled chickpeas either,” Mr Stark made a face, one that had Peter laughing softly. He missed the soft smiles Tony and Pepper sent his way. “Now, roast ones that are crisp? De-licious. Especially if they’re coated in spices or chocolate. I’ll buy some the next time I’m at the store, and you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
“Thanks, Mr Stark,” Peter smiled, taking another bite of food.
“Great, indeed,” Miss Potts hummed from her spot across from them. “What would you like for dinner tonight, sweetie? You let us know and we’ll either cook it or order it for you.”
“You can order food all the way out here?” Peter’s voice gave away his surprise as he turned to look at Mr Stark with his eyebrows raised, finding the man already looking at him with an unimpressed, albeit amused, expression on his face.
“You tip someone two hundred bucks, and you’ll find they’re willing to go to great lengths for you,” the older man grinned, patting him on the shoulder again. “So, dinner?”
Peter couldn’t help but stare at his new foster parents in shock— sure, he knew the Starks were wealthy; they flew horses globally for God’s sake, but he couldn’t fathom tipping a delivery driver two hundred dollars as if it were nothing. He hadn’t been around this kind of wealth since, well, ever. It was a lot to take in.
“Hey, kid, where’d you go?”
The sound of Mr Stark’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked quickly.
“Uhm, nowhere, just thinking,” Peter murmured, chewing on his lower lip. “Italian would be nice, I’m not too picky on what, but it’d be great if we could have carbonara.”
“Then carbonara it is,” Miss Potts smiled at him from her spoon. “The authentic way because Tony will have an aneurysm if we dare to use bacon.”
“You betcha,” Mr Stark grumbled, though there was no real bite behind his words.
Peter couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Tony glanced at Peter, biting his lip when he noticed the kid was almost done with his meal. He had a plan to help Peter decompress while also getting that conversation with Rhodey in; he just needed to time it perfectly so that Peter wasn’t suspicious. It wasn’t like he was a bad kid, or Tony had suspicions that the kid had a troubled past—he didn’t want to open an uncomfortable door or set any expectations for the kid.
Peter deserved to settle in without any pressure.
“Hey, Pete,” he murmured, stacking the boy’s bowl on top of his when Peter finished. “Why don’t we let you have the afternoon to yourself? I know just the perfect thing to help you relax for the afternoon.”
“Yeah, sure,” Peter grinned, standing when Tony reached down and clasped him on the shoulder, waving to Pepper before the older man pulled him out of the room. “Where are you taking me?”
“Well,” Tony hummed, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulder, surprised when Peter didn’t complain or try to pull away, walking the two of them up the stairs. “We’re headed to the library.”
“The library?” Peter looked up at him, awe written across his face. “You have a library?”
“Yeah, Pete, we do,” Tony laughed, ruffling Peter’s curly locks of hair. “Do you like reading?”
“Yeah, I love it!” He exclaimed, eyes brightening almost instantly. “I really love thrillers and murder mysteries, but I do enjoy fantasy novels too. Sometimes I like reading textbooks—I love learning from them. There’s this book I’ve been wanting to read. It’s called ‘Not Quite Dead Yet’ by Holly Jackson. I’ve read the blurb, and it sounds really interesting, and- Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble,” he murmured the last bit of the sentence, looking down at his feet but still letting Tony guide him.
“Hey, it’s alright, kid,” the older man smiled warmly, hoping that he was coming off as reassuring. Tony wasn’t sure if he was saying the right things to Peter, but he hoped he was at least. “This is a ramble-safe house. You can ramble as much as you like. Lord knows how much I ramble, I think Pepper finds it endearing, actually. You don’t ever have to worry about being too much.”
“Thanks,” Peter whispered, still not bold enough to speak up again.
“As for the book, it’s your lucky day,” Tony wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke, pushing open one of the large double doors, smiling as he watched Peter’s head whip around to take it all in. He was proud to say that their library was pretty substantial. Tony kept books from his childhood home, along with new ones and Pepper’s collection, in here, and over the years, it had grown. There was still room to spare for any books that Peter might want in the future. “Come this way.”
The small ‘Wow’ that escaped the kid’s lips didn’t go unnoticed by him, but Tony decided not to comment on it and walked Peter straight to where he kept their collection of thrillers. He reached up and pulled a book down from one of the higher shelves, grinning as he handed it to Peter.
“This is ‘Not Quite Dead Yet’,” Tony hummed, the smile on his face growing wider when Peter took it from him, practically bouncing in his shoes. “You’re just in luck, kid. I bought this last week at the bookshop in town. I’ve got some other books I want to read before this one, so take all the time you need.”
“Thank you, Mr Stark,” Peter exclaimed, his eyes bright. “This is so cool. Can I come in here and get a book whenever I want?”
“Yeah, kid, knock yourself out,” Tony laughed, pointing at the plaque on the shelf. “Each category is labelled, so you can find whatever genre you like. I’ve even got some books on engineering and other science and tech stuff towards the back.”
“You’re into tech, Mr Stark?” Peter questioned, his head tilted to the side. Tony decided he resembled a puppy greatly with that expression on his face.
“I think you’re forgetting I created and own Stark Industries, Pete,” the older man replied, walking towards the doors to the library, watching as Peter kept step with him. “The leading equine technology company in the world.”
“Oh, yeah,” Peter huffed sheepishly. “I forgot about that…”
Tony laughed, throwing an arm around the boy’s shoulders as he guided Peter down the stairs and towards the back door. He liked that, despite Peter having mentioned he was a fan of Tony’s, the boy could see him as just a normal person. There was no starstruck look in his eyes—there was shyness, maybe a bit of hesitation too, but Peter didn’t treat him like a celebrity, which was nice.
“You know that field you can see from your bedroom window, kid?” Tony asked, coming to a stop when they reached the back door, smiling when Peter nodded. “You go out this door and turn right, walk for about half a minute, and you’ll come up to a fence. The gate’s broken, so you’ll have to hop it, but once you’re on the other side, you just keep walking straight for a couple of hundred meters, and you’ll be there. It’s a wonderful spot to just lie down and read a book.”
“Thanks, Mr Stark,” Peter hummed, clutching the book to his chest. “Do I have to be back inside at a certain time?”
“As long as you’re back inside before sundown,” Tony shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You did promise Pep you’d help feed the horses. We’ll give you a holler if you’re still outside at feeding time. If you need anything, just shout for us.”
“Thanks again, Mr Stark,” Peter grinned before opening the door and disappearing behind it.
Tony managed a small wave before the door shut behind the boy, and he puffed out a sigh, turning away and walking back up the stairs and towards his office. Peter was a great kid already, from what he’d seen. He hoped that the kid would love them and want to stay. He really, really hoped he would—he had a feeling that he was going to get attached to Peter very fast, there were things he saw in the kid that he saw in himself.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to mull over his worries about Peter for too long; Rhodey picked up his call pretty quickly, and that saved him from waiting on answers. Tony Stark was not a patient man; he liked his answers.
“Hey, Tones, what’s up?” Rhodey’s voice filled the room, and Tony couldn’t help but smile. Rhodey was the closest thing he had to a brother, and he hadn’t seen his brother in a while.
“Hey, Honey Bear,” he replied, sitting down in his office chair and putting the phone on speaker. “Are you busy right now?”
“Just viewing that property that’s a ten-minute drive from you,” the older man responded. Right, Tony forgot that Rhodey wanted to be out in the country somewhere, and he distinctly remembered him saying that if he could be closer to Tony and Pepper, he would be. “Why? You need something?”
“Our kid arrived today,” Tony sighed, swivelling his chair as he listened to Rhodey’s breathing. He’d talked about this day for a while with Rhodey; he’d been so excited, he still was, but it hurt him to know that there were things in Peter’s past that made him so skittish and jittery.
Is that what being a parent felt like?
Tony didn’t know; he didn’t have good parents to teach him how to be one. All he knew was that Peter was already growing on him, at a scarily rapid rate.
“What’s wrong with him?” Rhodey’s voice startled the younger man. For a moment, he’d forgotten he was on the phone with his best friend. “Is he a bad kid?”
“God, no. Far from it,” Tony reassured him, shaking his head despite the fact that Rhodey couldn’t see him. “He’s a great kid, Platypus, but there’s this thing about him. Pep says the way he talks about horses, it’s like he’s known them all his life. He talked about being my biggest fan and knowing all my horses. And yet…”
“Yet?” Rhodey encouraged him; he should’ve known that his best friend knew him, well, best.
“Yet he’s terrified of horses,” Tony murmured, pausing his swivelling to stare at the clock on his wall—one of the few things he kept from his childhood home. “He won’t go near them, and he clams up if you ask him to talk about them. I thought maybe the kid used to compete, he’d be registered if he did right?”
“Yeah, he would,” Rhodey confirmed, the sound of a car door slamming in the background. “Look, why don’t you give me his name, and I’ll be there in ten minutes so that we can look him up.”
“Peter Parker.”
The silence was so sudden that Tony had to double-check that Rhodey hadn’t hung up on him. When he confirmed he hadn’t, the younger man couldn’t help but let his thoughts spiral. There were a million reasons why Rhodey went quiet, and he didn’t know which one it was.
“Peter Benjamin Parker?” The older man whispered so softly that Tony barely caught it. “Sixteen, brown hair, brown eyes, looks and sounds like he could never hurt a fly?”
“Uh, yeah…” Tony hummed, checking the sticky note he’d scribbled Peter’s birthday down on. “Birthday on the tenth of August.”
“Shit… Shit,” Rhodey hissed from the other end of the line—and boy, did he not like the sound of that. “Listen, Tones, I’ll be there in four minutes. I know the kid. Please, make sure Peter’s not around because you’re in for one hell of a ride here, and I really don’t want him to have to go through this again. Have Pepper make some tea, and we’ll sit in the tea room.”
“That bad, huh?” Tony couldn’t help it; his default was to joke in serious situations. This was just another one of those times. He knew it probably wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but that’s just what it was—a coping mechanism.
“You have no idea, Tones,” Rhodey murmured. “No idea.”
“Right, well,” he hummed, standing up. “I’m going to head downstairs and make some tea with Pep. You just walk right in when you get here. Don’t worry about Peter, he’s having some alone time and reading a book out back. I didn’t want him in the house precisely for this reason.”
“Good,” Rhodey’s voice was firm and unwavering, but there was something that was underneath the hardness, a kind of sadness that Tony had only heard a handful of times throughout their friendship. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah, Honey Bear,” Tony agreed. “Soon.”