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The enormous weight with which the two halves of the ferry pulled the arms of the Spider-man, was very close to begin to remove the bones of his joint. Just when he thought that his biceps would give in to the exaggerated contraction, Peter noticed that his body was beginning to descend and that something else was helping to join the shattered ferry.
“What the hell?” he said while his feet found the ground.
But his dismay reached the highest level when he turned to one of the shuttle's windows and met the face of Iron Man, who, with the help of his multiple auxiliary devices, partially repaired the shattered ferry.
“Hi, Spider-man!” he acknowledged the unmistakable voice of Tony Stark, in an acid sarcastic tone, “band practice, was it?”
Next, Iron Man set out to save the occupants of the boat, welding here and there, while Peter jumped from side to side offering his help.
“Hey, Mr. Stark!” screamed Spider-Man behind Iron Man's back, who was definitely ignoring him, "could I do anything? What do you want me to do?”
"I think you've done enough," was all Mr. Stark gave as an answer, before flying away from him.
Beneath the mask, Peter knew he was in deep trouble. Knowing that Mr. Stark wouldn’t allow him to do anything for the people on the ship, Peter sat on the ledge of a nearby building, from where he could see the rescue boats and the result of his fight with The Vulture. He felt dazed and more afraid of what he wanted to admit. He couldn’t help but wonder if all the occupants of the ferry were safe, or if his attempt to take care of the problem alone had ended the life of some innocent.
However, there was also room for anger. He had warned Mr. Stark of the existence of such a dangerous group, but he had only ordered him to forget the matter. Now he could see with his own eyes the destructive reach of the weapons sold by The Vulture and his men. His irritation was even greater as Iron Man appeared on the ledge throwing scathing remarks and rebuking him for disobeying his orders.
“I tell you to stay away from this,” replied Mr. Stark,” instead, you hacked a multimillion-dollar suit so you could sneak around behind my back, doing the one thing I told you not to do.”
“Is everyone okay?” Peter asked without looking into his eyes.
“Not thanks to you.”
Unable to contain his anger, Peter jumped to his feet and confronted the armor, using a tone he would never have dared to use with Mr. Stark if he were inside the suit, instead of operating it remotely from the other side of the globe.
"No thanks to me?" he repeated in disbelief. “Those weapons were out there, and I tried to tell you about it, but you didn’t listen. None of this would’ve happened if you had just listened to me! If you even cared, you’d actually be here. “
What Peter didn’t expect, was that Mr. Stark really was there. He couldn’t help but step back a few steps when the armor opened and Tony Stark, in his own flesh, stood in front of him.
"I did listen, kid," said the millionaire inventor, with an expression that remind him of what Uncle Ben used every time a huge reprimand was coming. “Who do you think called the FBI, huh?” he continued with an icy voice, punctuating his words with each step he took, while Peter had no choice but to back away. “Do you know I was the only one who believed in you? Everyone else said I was crazy to recruit a fourteen-year-old kid.”
"I'm fifteen," Peter said, and immediately regretted interrupting him for something so trivial.
“No, this is where you zip it! All right?” replied Mr. Stark, raising his voice, “the adult is talking! What if somebody had died tonight? Different story, right? Because that’s on you! And if you die… I feel like that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience.”
“Yes, sir," Peter tried, “I’m sorry, I understand-”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it.”
“I know,” he insisted defeated, “I just wanted to be like you.”
“And I wanted you to be better.”
Mr. Stark looked at him with an expression of utter disappointment that contracted his stomach.
“Okay, it’s not working out,” he spoke decisively, “I’m going to need the suit back.”
“For how long?” Peter asked with growing nervousness.
“Forever.”
Immediately, he felt a twist in his heart and had to do his best not to throw himself on his knees right there and start praying.
“No…”
“Yeah, that’s how it works.”
“No, no, no, please, Mr. Stark!”
“Let’s have it.”
“Please, this is all I have!” he pleaded, feeling very close to breaking into tears. He couldn’t allow Mr. Stark to take away what gave him meaning in his life. “I'm nothing without this suit!”
“If you're nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it, okay?” said Mr. Stark, and then rolled his eyes in annoyance, "God, I sound like my dad.”
Peter felt the hot prick of the tears that were beginning to build in his eyes, so he blinked repeatedly to push them away, because what he least needed now was to cry like the child Mr. Stark thought he was. He knew there was no way out of this totally unpunished, but he would lose nothing more if he tried to keep the suit.
“Mr. Stark,” he said trying to keep his voice steady, “I know I was wrong, I understand, trust me! I'm really sorry, but this suit means so much to me. I want to help all these people-”
“And you'll manage without the suit,” he said without the slightest sign of wanting to give in, “you did it for several months and you'll surely keep doing it.”
“But it's not the same!” Peter protested, “you said it, I'll manage to keep going out without the suit, but I won’t be safe, do you have any idea how many injuries I got during the time I was without the suit?
Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes and looked at him with a mixture of rage and disbelief.
“You intend to blackmail me, brat?” he asked pointing with his finger. “I'm not responsible for you, okay? You don’t have to demand that I keep you safe while you’re playing to be the hero of Queens. It's your life, your decision and my suit, so give it to me now.”
Mr. Stark's words struck harder than any of the punches he had received in his life, including those that he earned from Captain America. He couldn’t prevent a tear rolling down his cheek and he wiped it away with rage. He felt like a complete idiot for thinking that he had a place in Mr. Stark's life, instead of being just a useful tool to use whenever he needed reinforcements.
*-*-*
Seeing the kid's injured expression, Tony was about to hit very hard his own face with the suit glove. Dealing with children never was his greatest ability, but, even by his standards, he thought he had been decidedly cruel to the kid. In the last weeks, he had learned to value the child. Somehow, he reminded him of his own self in his teenage years, when he lived full of energy, ideas and a huge desire to impress his father.
He had been tracking the boy since before recruiting him, surprised by the skills of the friendly neighborhood spider-boy. According to his inquiries, Peter had lost his parents at an early age and his custody had been in the hands of a certain Uncle Ben and a hotie Aunt May. However, around the same time that Spider-Man videos started circulating on the network, the boy's uncle was killed. Definitely, they were too much loss for someone so young.
And yet, Peter didn’t give up on his task of helping others. That was the main reason why Tony admired the boy; at his young age, he had a genuine interest in serving his community, because he felt that the powers he gained had to be used for the good of others. At Peter's age, Tony frankly just thought about hanging around with girls, going to parties and drinking alcohol illegally.
But the marked differences between the child and Tony were precisely the reason why he tried to keep some distance between them. In his opinion, he was, to say the least, the worst of the father figures a teenager might need, and the boy already had too many gaps in his family life to suffer the disappointment of discovering that Tony wasn’t what he thought...
...That was exactly what had just happened. He did Peter just what his father had done to him countless times. He sighed wearily and pressed the bridge of his nose. He looked at the boy in front of him, who was unsuccessfully hiding a tear he had just shed. He hated this part full of emotion and crying. He knew his words had been cruel, but the little brat had definitely screwed up.
“Listen, kid,” he said after a while.
“I'll return the suit,” Peter interrupted without looking into his eyes, “but I don’t have any more clothes and I don’t want to have to return home in my underwear.”
The boy had red cheeks and Tony couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the absurdity of the situation. He thought that maybe the prudent thing was to calm down and let the boy do it too. The last thing he wanted was to return him to May in tears and snot, and with the worst image the woman could have of him. Maybe he should offer an apology.
“What I told you,” he tried, but was interrupted again by the rude brat.
“I understand, Mr. Stark,” he said, sipping pathetically. “Just let me get a pair of pants, a shirt and-”
“What did I say about interrupting when I'm talking?” Tony scolded and the boy closed his mouth immediately. “Listen, I can’t keep screaming you at the edge of a building. It’s weird. I'll tell Happy to pick you up and take you to the Avengers Tower. There we’ll discuss this more calmly.”
“But”
“Stop arguing, kid!” he raised his voice again, “just wait here, okay? And don’t you dare to run away! Unless you want your next video on YouTube to be Iron Man drag Spider-Man to the Avengers Tower, do you understand?”
The boy nodded awkwardly. Tony entered the suit again and prepared to fly towards the tower.
*-*-*
Peter waited sitting in the same place. A huge tornado of emotions was raging inside him. Mr. Stark's sudden change of attitude had him very confused, but he was still angry at what he had said. However, in the last few months he had learned that Mr. Stark wasn’t exactly affective or good with words. He had become accustomed to his strange attitude and his painful attempts to motivate and flatter him. On occasion, Mr. Stark had referred to his past, regretting that his father never gave him enough support. He could guess that Tony Stark had a hard time dealing with someone like him. He thought that maybe he could use this change of attitude in his favor, to make Mr. Stark reconsider his decision to remove the suit indefinitely, so he decided that maintaining a docile attitude would be the most convenient.
It wasn’t long before his phone rang.
“Boy, are you still there?” said Happy's voice as soon as he answered. “Go down to the back, I'll arrive in three minutes.”
Peter jumped off the ledge and headed for Happy's car as soon as he saw it approaching. The place was desert, so he didn’t have to worry about being seen entering one of Mr. Stark's vehicles. However, he found that he felt a certain shame in facing Happy, because surely he should already know what happened.
“That package is for you,” the man announced as soon as he entered the vehicle, pointing to a bag in the back seat.
Peter opened it and pulled out an oversized shirt that read I survived my trip to NYC, pink pajama pants with Hello Kitty motifs and sandals. He looked at Happy with absolute disbelief through the rearview mirror.
“It was all I could get.”
Peter snorted angrily, convinced that public humiliation was part of Mr. Stark's punishment. He raised the glass in the back seat bitterly and proceeded to undress. Once it was over, he folded the suit with dismay and put it in the same bag.
For the rest of the trip to the Avengers Tower, Happy didn’t speak in the slightest, so Peter was completely grateful. Arriving at the building, Peter noticed how empty the place looked.
“We're moving," Happy explained as they made their way to the elevator, "but they haven’t yet vacated the boss's main office.”
They went up to the penthouse of the tower and then walked to a door at the end of the room, which gave way to a large office surrounded by windows, full of boxes but with a couple of furniture here and there. Tony Stark was sitting on the edge of a desk typing on his phone.
“Oh, Mr. Parker! You finally arrive” he greeted with a carefree air, and Peter couldn’t help thinking if this was the same man who had just yelled at the edge of a building. “Thanks for bringing him, Happy.”
The man nodded in farewell and left the room. Mr. Stark just looked at Peter with an indecipherable gesture that made him cringe.
"It's not exactly an Armani suit," he finally said sarcastically.
Peter sighed without being able to match at least a feigned smile. Very reluctantly, he extended his hand to his mentor and handed him the package with the suit. He hoped that Mr. Stark would reject the gesture and tell him he could keep it. Instead, the older man just received it and placed it on the desk.
“I suppose that's all,” Peter murmured, his head down, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn’t notice the tears that blurred his vision. “Thanks for... for everything and... I'm sorry.”
Peter turned and started to leave. He just wanted to get home, even if that meant dealing with a furious Aunt May, who by now would surely know that he had escaped from school. He wanted to be in his room and bury his face in the pillow until the following year.
“Where do you think you’re going?” said Mr. Stark, “we’re not finished yet.”
Peter turned wearily. He didn’t want to keep listening to Mr. Stark's words. In his opinion, he had heard enough. Besides, nothing would prevent the fact that he would lose his suit.
Still sitting on the edge of the desk, Mr. Stark motioned him to sit in the chair in front of him. From his position, Peter felt like a student about to be sent to detention.
“I'm sorry what I told you,” were Mr. Stark's words. Peter looked at him incredulously. It wasn't exactly what he was waiting for. “Don’t say anything, kid. I was hard on you, I admit it. I didn’t mean to imply that I'm not worried about your safety. I don’t want you to think I gave you the suit just so you were strong enough to fight in Berlin, because you were good before you had the suit. I wanted you to keep it because I knew you wouldn’t stop fighting with the bad guys in the neighborhood, even if you had to use those ugly meshes of yours, which definitely don’t keep you very safe.”
Peter moved uncomfortably in the chair and Mr. Stark was silent for a few seconds, in which he seemed to think carefully what he would say.
"Look, kid," he said again, "I care about your safety, I want you to stay safe. I adjusted the suit so you wouldn’t stop being who you are and at the same time you could be fine. Your well-being is not just about having a clear conscience, or about not getting in trouble with your aunt. What I told you ... I was just terribly angry. I care about you, okay? And I wouldn’t sit idly by knowing that you risk your life every day without me trying, at least, to improve your security, you understand?”
Peter nodded dazed and greatly moved. A growing knot in his throat forced him to swallow audibly.
“Yes or no? Verbal answers, kid”
“I-I understand, sir,” he stammered.
“But what you did...” he said, recovering his warning tone and standing up, “damn it, kid! What were you thinking? What part of leave the Vulture in peace you didn’t understand?”
“I just wanted-”
“Yes, yes, to be like me, we've been through this,” he said wearily. “Leave school, get involved with the mafia and put at risk your life and that of dozens of people, it wasn’t part of our agreement. I told you to stay in your neighborhood, being the friendly Spider-man who helps old ladies cross the street!”
"I just thought I was ready for something else," Peter confessed quietly.
“And clearly you are not, as you have just demonstrated.”
Peter sighed wearily. Frankly, what was Mr. Stark looking for? He had already taken off his suit and had yelled at him enough, what else did he want?
“I seriously thought that the solution would be to take off the suit,” said Mr. Stark. Peter immediately raised his head hopefully, hoping that he had changed his mind,” but, if I’m consistent with what I said, that will only take away the little security you have when you go out to face the crime.”
“Do you mean you won’t-”
“Oh no!” Mr. Stark said quickly, "don’t think this ends so easily, no sir! I will definitely take your suit off, but not forever.”
Peter felt his heart jump with emotion, so much so that he was about to throw himself at Mr. Stark to hug him in a hug, but he knew that would be the sentence that would make him lose his suit forever.
“Mr. Stark, I appreciate it, you don’t know what it means to me! I promise you-”
“Don’t sing victory so soon, young man," he cut again, "there’s a condition and you won’t like it.”
“Whatever, I'll do anything!”
“You have to promise me that while you don’t have the suit you will do absolutely nothing of what Spider-Man would do.”
Peter struggled insecurely.
“But how long will it be?”
“Two months.”
“Two months?!” he repeated, "but, sir, in two months the Vulture and his men will continue to do theirs!"
“Okay, if you want it, then I continue with my initial decision: without the suit forever.”
“No, no!” Peter jumped out of the seat, "I'm sorry, I accept, I accept, there's no Spiderman for two months.”
To be fair, Mr. Stark's condition was really minimal. Losing the suit just for two months, in exchange for being only Peter Parker during that time, seemed like a deal in his favor.
“Don’t even sing victory yet,” said Mr. Stark again, “there is still another condition.”
“What condition?” Peter asked, imagining that he would clean the floor of the Avengers complex for who knows how long.
Peter saw Mr. Stark return to the desk to adopt a particular posture. He seemed to doubt his own words and weigh what he would say next.
“You will receive another punishment.”
“I get it.”
“A corporal punishment, specifically.”
Peter shuddered in terror. Corporal punishment? Did Mr. Stark intend to attack him with the Iron Man suit or something?
“I... I don’t understand, sir.”
Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He almost seemed nervous.
“Yes, corporal punishment,” he repeated, jumping back from the desk, pushing Peter back, “a bit of tough love, as they call it.”
Peter couldn’t help but take a few steps back. Suddenly he felt as terrified as when bullies at school used to intimidate him.
“B-but, sir, I... I don't think that is... appropriate, I... maybe I should, maybe I should go-”
“Leave the drama, kid,” said Mr. Stark, “I'm not going to grab you with kicks, I'm going to spank you”
Peter stopped short and let out a small nervous giggle from his lips.
“B-b-but you... you can’t!” he protested weakly surprised by the turn of events. Spanked by Tony Stark? It would have seemed more normal if Iron Man had started kicking it. “And I... I'm not a child, I'm too ol-”
“Don't start with that!” Mr. Stark boomed, “you're fifteen, and with spider powers or not, you're still a child.”
“But sir”
“Listen to me, Peter,” Mr. Stark stared at him and put a hand on his shoulder, “I'm not even a little excited about punishing you like that, I feel like an old-fashioned old man, but definitely an old-fashioned-spanking is the least you deserve. I thought about taking you directly with hotie aunt and letting her take care of this, because I already know her enough to know she's the kind of woman that would drag you from your ear all over New York and then she'd whip your butt with the first thing she found.”
Peter swallowed in shame. He had to admit that, certainly, Mr. Stark was right. If his aunt knew what had just happened, she wouldn’t think twice to whip his butt with a wooden spoon. He had done it years ago on some occasions. His uncle Ben had not been reluctant to tough discipline either and he had to face his sneaker more than once.
“But it would be useless,” Mr. Stark continued, “because of your powers. I guess a slap from your aunt wouldn’t make you ticklish. Besides, there would be no way to tell her what you did without revealing the small detail that you’re Spider-man. That leaves me as responsible for your punishment.”
Peter was genuinely outraged that Mr. Stark referred in such a way to his intentions of spanking him, as if it were something harder for him than it would be for Peter. There was definitely no way he would accept such a punishment from Mr. Stark. He couldn’t even imagine how humiliated he would feel if something like that happened.
“But you couldn’t spa- punish me either,” he said, frowning with growing anger. “A hit of yours wouldn’t hurt me.”
He crossed his arms to emphasize his defiance, but Mr. Stark smiled confidently.
“I know, kid, I've already fixed it.”
Peter watched as Mr. Stark transformed his wristwatch into a kind of smaller Iron Man's fist. He would have jumped in amazement and admiration if it weren’t for the implicit threat of the gesture.
“This little thing increases the strength of my blows as far as I want,” he explained with incredible tranquility. How was it possible that he could talk in that way about the tool with which he intended to hit him? “I’m sure that it will suffice to slap the ass of a foolish child with superhuman strength.”
Peter really expected Mr. Stark to laugh at some point and give him a pat on the shoulder, followed by "April fools, Parker!”. But all he could read in the man's eyes was absolute decision.
“I won’t force you to anything, Peter,” said Mr. Stark, “it's your choice. Decide now, because I have many important things to do: no suit for always or no suit for two months?”
It was useless. Peter wouldn’t leave his suit. He could survive a stupid and humiliating punishment.
“No suit for two months,” he sighed with resignation.
“Okay.”
* - * - *
Did the brat have the slightest idea how difficult it was to do this? Tony never expected his day to end with a wayward teenager about to be spanked by him. In fact, he never imagined that he would spank a child in all his life. He wondered if it really wouldn’t be better to send Peter home and forget that all this happened. But then he realized that would be exactly what his father would have done: tell Tony what a huge disappointment he was and then ignore him for weeks. He had decided to break the vicious circle, and that not only implied giving the boy more moral support; it also required discipline him when necessary.
Although it was hard to admit, he was the only and most important father figure in the kid’s life. May Parker couldn’t do everything by herself, especially when she didn’t even have half an idea of the secrets that her nephew hid. On the way to the tower, Tony had contacted Happy from the Iron Man suit to ask him to get some clothes and pick up the boy. The man must have understood what it was, because the news of the disaster on the ferry already rang in all the local media.
“You'll take him the suit off, right?” Happy guessed on the other side of the line.
“I have to,” he said with resignation. “You saw the disaster he caused.”
“You know you have to do more than that.”
“What are you talking about, Happy?”
“I know you understand perfectly, boss.”
With this, Happy cut the call, leaving Tony terribly irritated. Of course he understood what he was talking about. It wasn’t the first time that Happy insinuated that he should establish clear and forceful limits with the boy, if he wanted a fifteen-year-old boy to make responsible use of a potentially destructive millionaire suit. He had decided that he would offer an alternative punishment to the kid, since he certainly didn’t want to leave him without the protection afforded by the suit, or at least not forever. However, the child would have to show that he was repentant enough and he had the necessary maturity to have a suit that not only protected him, but also put at risk dozens of people if it wasn’t used responsibly.
Obliging him to do domestic chores wasn’t exactly the most appropriate thing for a child who already had very neglected school and home chores. Community work didn’t make sense in someone who literally did community work as a hobby. He needed something quick and effective, to make Peter understand that a punishment like that was the least of the evils in the face of the idea of losing his life or causing the death of innocent people, but that it would still make a dent in the boy and keep him there at bay.
By having him in front of him, with that contrite expression, determined to take whatever punishment returned his suit and Tony's confidence in him, he put aside his prejudices and accepted his responsibility.
“What I have to do?” asked the boy trying to appear brave.
“Here,” Tony said, pointing to the desk, “bend over a bit.”
The boy did it without hurry but without complaint. Tony stood to his left, unsure of how to begin. His portable glove, similar to the one he had used against the Winter Soldier, could also be controlled by his Artificial Intelligence. He had instructed Friday to use only the force necessary to cause light damage, the same as any normal boy would feel with a normal spanking. However, he continued to worry about the idea of hurting the kid more than necessary. With his clothes on, he couldn’t know how hard he hurt Peter's skin with each stroke, but he didn’t want to subject the child to the humiliation of undressing for punishment. He would have to trust that Friday would make the calculations of the force of the slaps accurately.
He inhaled deeply, putting his other hand on the boy's back, because he had no idea what to do with the rest of his body. He felt the child cringe under his touch and gave the first smack, wishing to end this as soon as possible. The boy jumped slightly, but remained in place. Tony read Peter's expression and decided that the force used had been sufficient. With some more tranquility, he proceeded to continue the punishment. There was a heavy silence in the room, only cut by the sound of the smacks. Peter made no more noise, apart from the slight whistles he tried to contain with such urgency.
Tony had no idea if he should speak or not. What were the parents, uncles or other father figures supposed to say when they spank their children? His own father never gave him anything other than slaps on the cheek and disappointed looks. His mother, on the other hand, did spank him a few times during his childhood, but beyond that he didn’t remember any other punishment. In the midst of his mental ramblings, he lost count of the smacks he was carrying and cringed with horror when he saw that Peter had hidden his head in his arms, in an attempt to drown the soft cry that had begun to emit. What if he had hurt him too much? He had to make sure he was well.
“Peter, I'll need you to bare your backside.”
The boy turned terrified. His face was streaked with tears.
“What!? No, Mr. Stark, please!”
“It's for your safety, Peter! I know it's uncomfortable, but it's nothing special, right? I just need to see that I'm not hurting you over the bill, okay?”
“But it's not necessary, I swear, I'm fine!”
“Don't make me do it for you, Peter. It will only be a second.”
The boy moaned resigned, his cheeks completely red. He brought his hands to the waistband of his pajama pants and lowered them with his underwear to just above his thighs. Tony took a quick look and found that the child's skin was only slightly pink, almost as if it had not hit him at all.
“All right, you can upload them.”
The boy adjusted his clothes quickly. He suppressed a sob and stood without moving a single muscle. Tony knew the punishment was far from over, even though he just wanted to end this right now.
“Peter, we're not finished yet.”
As if waiting for it, the boy nodded and resumed his position. In the same way, Tony positioned himself again and continued smacking Peter's buttocks and thighs a little more firmly. The next ten smacks made the boy respond more audibly even though Tony could see the effort he was making to contain himself. He proceeded to smack directly on the upper part of the thighs, repeatedly smacking the same area on each side, until the child almost writhed in place. He returned again to the center of the buttocks and added a bit more strength to the next round of smacks.
At this point, Peter made no effort to hide the crying, and Tony could feel the child's shoulders tremble under his hand.
“Mr. Stark! Ow! I-I'm sorry!” Peter began, after Tony whipped the curvature of his buttocks repeatedly in the same place, before moving to the other side, "ow, p-please!”
Tony knew it was time to finish the punishment, so he added a last bit of force in the next ten smacks, which made Peter cry openly, his body relaxed on the desk. The boy continued crying even when Tony disarmed his glove. He had no idea what to do next. The brat looked totally dejected. It seemed incredible to him that a kid, who could withstand the blows of a battle against enemies like The Vulture, was reduced to crying because of a spanking. But he could understand the enormous emotional burden the child now carried on his shoulders.
He remembered the moments in his childhood and adolescence, when his father shouted at him for trying to get his attention while he was working. Tony used to hide in his closet and cry for hours, feeling despised and without love. He didn’t want that a kid like Peter Parker, his protege, ever feel that way. Ignoring his own contempt for physical contact with the children, he put a hand on the boy's shoulder and lifted him up.
Peter kept his head down, making useless efforts to stop the crying. Seeing him so vulnerable, Tony had no choice but to crush the brat's head against his chest. The boy gratefully accepted the gesture and grabbed a handful of his jacket.
“There, calm down,” he said, holding back the disgust at feeling his expensive jacket wet with tears and snot. He put his hand on the boy's head and squeezed it lightly. “It's over now, okay?”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Stark.”
“Yes, yes, I believe you. You've already said it like twenty times.” With not too much delicacy, he picked up the boy and offered him a box of tissues from the desk. “All forgiven, okay? Blot and new account. Or at least while you recover the suit.”
Peter nodded as he wiped his face. His cheeks were a deep red and Tony knew it wasn’t just tears. The boy was deeply ashamed.
“Hey, look at me.” He put a hand under the boy's chin to force him to look into his eyes. “You don't have to feel humiliated or anything. You're not the first teenager to get spanked, you know?”
“But the first one to get spanked by Tony Stark,” Peter complained under his breath, eliciting him a laugh.
“Come on, you're not the only one who feels uncomfortable,” Tony confessed, “I'm also a little embarrassed. When I recruited you months ago, I never imagined doing something like this, but you deserved it, right? I already told you: I care about you, kid. And if to prove it I have to take charge of your discipline every time you screw up as Spider-Man, I'll do it.”
The boy looked at him with an expression that bothered him even more than the beating itself. He couldn’t decipher what it was. The sooner he finishes with this, the better.
“That doesn’t mean I want to do this again," he said, leading him to the exit, "because if you're wise enough, you won’t do something like today, or I promise I'll go with your aunt and I'll manage to that she is the one who punishes you and you can’t comfortably sit for a week, do you understand?”
The boy nodded quickly with a terrified look. Happy appeared a few minutes later, announcing that the car was ready to take the boy home. The man made no comment in the face of the boy who betrayed his recent crying or the wet spot he had left on Tony's jacket.
“See you soon, Mr. Stark,” the boy said with a small smile. “And thanks... for everything.”
“Keep safe, kid,” he replied, stirring his hair.
He knew that, because of who he was, the boy definitely wouldn’t make great efforts to stay safe, but, to his fate, Peter Parker would always have the security and support that Tony Stark would provide.