Chapter Text
“Spider-Man?” Tony asked in disbelief, staring between the red suit in his fist and the completely incompatible image of this doe-eyed boy who couldn’t possibly be Spider-Man.
“Yeah.” The kid said.
Fuck.
Tony searched the boy’s face desperately, trying to spot a lie in his eyes, anything to claim it wasn’t true. He found none. “How is it you? But- your several degrees, your voice, your wife! I thought you had kids, how are you just a kid?” He frantically spoke.
A tear rolled down Peter’s cheek, flinching at all the lies he’d told. “I’m so sorry Mr. Stark..” was all he could get out.
Tony stared at him for another moment, still visibly trying to fit this kid together with the masked vigilante he’d spent months with.
Peter shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. “You’re really Spider-Man,” Tony muttered, almost to himself.
Peter nodded.
Tony narrowed his eyes slightly. “Do that thing.”
Peter blinked at the odd request. “What thing?”
“That.”
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, tilting his head slightly to the side. “What?”
Tony went completely still. He’d seen that exact confused head tilt dozens of times through Spider-Man’s mask. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “You really are Spider-Man.”
Peter stared at him. “I told you I was.”
“Yeah, but now you're doing his weird little quirks too,” Tony replied.
Peter huffed. He hadn’t realized Tony had been paying so much attention to him.
“Fuck, Spider-Man- Peter, just.. let’s get down from here, please.” The man said.
Peter complied, getting off the ledge and walking with his shoulders slumped past Tony and to where he already knew the elevator down from the roof was.
He sensed the man following after him, and pressing the button down. Peter could only look down at his shoes while the doors opened and they both shuffled in.
“You owe me a lot of explanations, kid.” The man said once the doors shut them in.
Peter hunched in on himself even more. “Yeah..”
In moments, the doors were opening again, but not to the lab, to Tony’s floor. “C’mon kid, sit.”
There was a large couch and multiple armchairs in the living room facing a huge flat screen TV. Peter looked uneasy at the options, not knowing where to sit.
Tony placed a gentle hand on his back, guiding him to sit across from him on the expansive black sofa. The man placed his backpack with the red suit still peaking out from the unzipped bag on the floor.
Peter sat against the corner and looked with wet eyes at Tony, fearing the incoming interrogation.
The man sighed deeply, long and suffering. “How old are you, kid?”
“Sixteen,” Peter all but whispered.
The silence wrapped around both of them. Tony clutched his head. “Sixteen,” he repeated quietly. “I let a sixteen year old fight with the Avengers.” He said louder.
Peter uncurled slightly, getting defensive. “This is why I didn't want you to know, I’m smart, I can take care of myself, I wanted you to take me seriously.”
“Kid, I do take you seriously, but for Christ’s sake, what the hell are you doing swinging around Queens in pajamas? You should be- I don't know, going to the movies with friends, the mall, not fighting aliens.”
Peter looked away. “When bad things happen and you can stop them, and you don't, it's on you.”
Tony looked at him with heartbreak in his eyes. “And what if something happens to you, kid? Then I feel like that’s on me.”
Peter felt the man’s eyes bore into his skull but he pointedly kept staring down.
“Okay, kid. Weight of the world on your shoulders, fine, but Spider-Man’s been active for two years. What the hell made you pick up crime fighting at fourteen?”
Peter’s eyes dropped to his hands. For a few seconds, he didn't answer.
Tony watched him carefully, his expression softening when he noticed the boy’s fingers twisting together.
“It was…” Peter started, then trailed off. He swallowed. “It was after my parents died.”
Tony stayed quiet, giving the kid time.
Peter’s shoulders rose slightly towards his ears as he took in a shaky breath. “I had these powers, and I could do things I couldn’t before, but I didn't know what to do with them. I could have.. I could have saved them. But I didn't."
Tony’s expression changed, but he didn’t interrupt.
“My aunt and uncle took me in,” Peter continued quietly. “They tried, they really did, that was the worst part. I was disappearing all the time, getting hurt and I had to keep lying to them.”
He gave a small, humorless laugh. “I wasn’t exactly easy to live with.”
“Peter…”
“They cared about me,” Peter quickly added, looking up at Tony. “I know they did. That’s why I left.”
Tony frowned. “You left?”
Peter gave a small nod. “I thought if I wasn’t there I would stop ruining their lives, so I just…” he shrugged helplessly. “I left.”
Tony stared at him. “You haven’t gone back?”
Peter looked down to his lap, trying to hide a few stray tears. “No, I can’t now. They both died, I had to see it on the news, I wasn’t there to stop it.”
“Peter, it wasn't your fault.” Tony said, reaching over to make Peter look at him and see how much he meant it. “You’ve been on your own ever since?”
Peter’s eyes flickered away. That was answer enough.
The man’s jaw tightened slightly. “Peter.”
”I was okay,” Peter insisted quietly.
Tony looked around his enormous living room before looking back at the traumatized kid curled into the corner of his couch.
“Where are you staying now, kid?”
Peter pulled at the edge of his sleeve. “Around.”
Tony noticeably tensed. “Define, ‘around.’” Tony knew damn well what it meant.
Peter gave a tiny shrug, staring stubbornly at the floor.
“Peter,” the man said tersely.
”I’m fine.”
Tony shook his head. “I didn’t ask if you were fine.” Tony studied him for a moment, glancing back at the red suit peaking out from the backpack.
“How long have you been doing that?” Tony asked. Peter didn't answer. “Sleeping wherever you can?”
Peter’s fingers tightened together. “I manage,” he deflected.
Tony exhaled slowly through his nose. Of course he did. The kid made his own suit, knew enough engineering to keep up with Tony Stark, fought criminals, and convinced the whole world he was an adult.
Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees. “You know,” he said quietly, “you don’t actually have to take this burden all for yourself.”
Peter looked up at him, the expression on his face made Tony’s chest tighten. Like nobody had ever said that to him before.
“You built the suit yourself?” He asked instead of pressing the issue more. The kid was on the verge of collapse already.
Peter’s voice was slightly thick when he answered. “Yeah. Even the voice changer.”
The man hadn’t even realized the kid had been using a voice changer this whole time. “That's impressive Peter.”
The kid gave him a ghost of a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”
“So you don’t have multiple degrees I assume?”
Peter scratched the back of his neck, glad the man didn't seem angry. “Not.. uh, not exactly.”
Tony huffed, “Fooled me, kid.” That dragged a genuine smile out of the boy. “I figured it out by the way.”
The younger’s eyebrows knit together. “Figured what out?”
“Our little atmospheric heating problem. JARVIS simulated it successfully using a titanium-gold alloy, your code worked.”
Peter’s eyes doubled in size. “You’re right! It would create a thermal shield strong enough to stop the freezing, Mr. Stark you're a genius,” he exclaimed happily.
“Couldn’t have done it without you kid,” Tony said, looking at him with a sad smile.
“Right. Well. I guess we don't have to keep working on it together then,” Peter said dejectedly. He always knew this day would come.
Tony shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“We still have a million things to do, and you're staying here at the tower,” he said firmly.
Peter panickedly shook his head. “Mr. Stark I’m not gonna-”
“You have anywhere else to go?” Tony interrupted, and raised an eyebrow. The kid stayed silent, looking at him with frustration. “That was a question, Peter.”
The boy’s jaw tightened as he looked away. “…No,” He replied in an angry whisper.
Tony nodded once, as if that settled it. “Then you're staying. No iff’s and’s or but’s,” Tony insisted.
Peter crossed his arms. “Mr. Stark, I appreciate it, but I have a life to get back to, I can’t just stay here.”
Tony looked unphased. “Yes you can, and you are. End of story. I’m a billionaire, kid. You’re not putting me out.”
Peter was getting increasingly frustrated with the man, it wasn’t so simple. “I don't care, I have things to do, I have patrols, people in Queens need me, and-“
“And nowhere to sleep.”
Peter went quiet.
“Kid, if you think I’m going to let a sixteen-year old superhero with no guardians go back to sleeping on the streets, you’ve got another thing coming. We can work out the kinks tomorrow, but you're staying,” Tony said firmly.
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“I know,” Tony answered easily. “I’m not trying to replace your brain, kid. Clearly I’d lose that fight.”
Peter almost smiled. “I’m not going to stop being Spider-Man. You can’t make me.”
Tony sighed. “Fine, you don't have to stop. But we’re building you a better, safer suit, and you’re going to be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, alright?”
Peter paused. “..you’d build me a suit?”
The man smiled softly. “Yeah, kid. Together.” He looked at the boy sitting on his couch, who somehow was the masked hero he’d grown so fond of. “As a team,” he added.
Tony swore the kids' eyes sparkled at his words. “We’re really a team?” He asked hopefully.
“We’re a team. So your spider butt is staying here, okay? C’mon, help a billionaire ease his guilty conscience, I dragged you into this, I'm keeping you safe.”
”I don’t want to owe you anything,” Peter admitted quietly. Tony’s expression softened.
“You don’t.”
Peter frowned. “Then what is this?”
Tony gestured around to his penthouse. “A room, a bed, food, four walls, somewhere to come home to.”
Peter swallowed. “And what do you want in return?”
The man looked genuinely confused. “Nothing.” Peter’s eyebrows pulled together. Tony sighed. “Okay, fine, maybe I still want to have my engineering buddy here.”
Peter laughed softly before he could stop it.
“There he is,” Tony murmured, smiling.
Peter’s shoulders finally relaxed. “I’m not becoming your sidekick though.”
Tony looked offended. “‘Course not. I’d have to start calling you something even stupider than Underoos.”
Peter’s mouth twitched upwards. “But I get an Iron-Spidey suit.”
Tony laughed mirthfully. “Absolutely kid. You know what the worst part is?” He asked. “I still think you’re brilliant.”
Peter’s smile widened. “Okay, Mr. Stark. I’ll stay. For now.”
That was enough for Tony.
The man got up from the couch, ruffled Peter’s messy curls and gave him a hand up. “I’ll show you your room, kid.”
Tony opened up a door to a cozy bedroom with a plush bed in the middle. His. His own room.
That was more than enough for Peter.