Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were a lot of great ways of starting the week.

“Off you go!”

Having your favorite show picked up by a different network, eating that expensive looking ice cream, seeing your crush wave back at you. A lot of great options.

“And never come back!!”

But you know what wasn't one of them? Being trapped between the gross, long teeth of a nightmarish amalgamation of a snake, a feathered flying beast, and a cyclops with the mouth of a shark and the breath of the average dude that would hit on Aunt May. If he had to rank it, it'd be on the starter pack of a life as Dr. Strange, not as Spider-Man. But what would he know? Clearly nothing, as said creature was now doing its master’s bidding by taking Spider-Man far away from the source of the chaos.

Not good. Not good at all.

And the world heard that little, tiny voice in his head saying it could be worse as it sent ‘worse' to him in the shape of the monster hybrid’s saliva dripping across his suit.

“Oh, come on!”

As the bird flew across the streets, Spider-Man gripped the teeth at each side of the creature’s vertical mouth for a stomach and put his all into prying his legs off of it. “Got it!” Though, the relief didn't last long enough. “Uh-oh.” Its snake tail slammed against his chest as he dangled from its mouth, leaving him breathless. His grip loosened. He hung off the creature with one hand as it viciously opened and closed its mouth. It'd just be a matter of time before he lost a finger or two, so, with buildings on sight, he let go, his left hand deactivating the binder during the free fall. A little time to breathe wouldn't hurt.

The spider sense would beg to differ.

He didn't have enough time to spin a web and pull himself out of harm's way before yet another nightmare fuel creature crashed into him.

“Oh God, this time with arms?!” And really strong, murderous hands. Not gentle at all. “A few too many, in my opinion. Does Animax have suggestion box?” With his upper body locked in the creature’s grip, he left it to a swift right kick to do the job and set him free, swinging off the bottom of the stingray-looking monster and onto its back. “She'd love the things I drew as a ki--” Spider sense. As he turned his head over his shoulder, he could barely list anything beyond tentacle before that very same thing slammed against his back, sending him flying off the stingray and into an apartment, crashing through the window. That was gonna hurt the whole week. He gasped for air, then trying to ignore the stinging pain in his body.

Animax seemed to have focused all the flying creatures she could muster into keeping him away. Frankly, he was flattered he was seen as big of a threat to her villainous plans. Mental note, tell her that before webbing her still.

With a few seconds to orientate himself, he found the source of the high pitched screaming (this time, not a monster screeching into his ears); a little girl a few feet away, bleeding from her arm. The glass.

“Oh my God. Okay, okay. Look at me. Everything will be okay.” As he focused her sight on his masked face, he activated the binder again with his free hand, the other slowly reaching to her. “It's okay. I'm sorry, let me fix it.” He gestured at her arm. She hesitantly allowed him to take it, between sobs, which only grew louder as he took the glass out, all while chanting apologies to her.  “I'm sorry. This will make it hurt less now. Trust me.” He webbed the wound. “Where's your mom?”

“Out.”

“Do you know the neighbors?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Okay. Just knock on their door and tell them it's dangerous outside.” He looked at the key near her toys. “You can do that?” He placed it on her hand and she stared at him for what it felt like a minute before nodding and running off to the door.

Crisis handled. Now to the streets.

Crawling onto the building, out ot the broken window frame. Next thing he sees, a hammer flies through the cyclops- creature.

There was no time to be amazed-- well, okay, maybe a little bit! It wasn't a common occurrence to see a God, let alone one that made the news several times, one headline being about how he crashed an anti-LGBTQ+ protest once, and the footage was nothing short of breathtaking. But he couldn't just swing over and thank him for that, not when the horde of monsters had grown larger both in the sky and ground in the moment that he had looked away. If anything, Thor’s presence made him want to do better than his poor attempts at winning a few minutes ago. He followed that motivation straight into the street-turned-battlefield, punching and kicking Animax’s creations while the God of Thunder took care of the sky.

“Hey, guys! How about you take me back to your leader?” The monsters’ answers to his friendly conversation wasn't as friendly, as it ended up in him having to dodge the hands of yet another abomination with no language set. Its palms created craters on the ground, leaving him to picture the spider Ned had squashes with a newspaper a few weeks ago. His acrobatics and reflexes saved him from the same fate. “Cut it out, dude! You know how many people are gonna be late to work now? You'll just make Animax’s ride to jail longer!” The plan to wrap the monster's hands in web seemed good enough until was hanging to the best of his sticky ability to a webbed fist as the creature shook it relentlessly, ragdolling the hero until he couldn't hold onto. Now, he would've ended just like that spider Ned killed, had it not been - again - for another superpowered intervention. A glowy, greenish intervention that kept his body from being hurled away into yet another building.

“You might want to consider talking less, and punching more. I doubt these beasts appreciate your stand-up bit.”

Spider-Man landed smoothly on the ground, the eccentrically dressed sorceress shooting green beams off her hands and single-handedly taking control of the situation. The eyes of his mask narrowed at her. He had to get better at this.

A few creatures fell from the sky, Thor landing atop of them.

“Just before you ask, this wasn't me.”

“I wasn't accusing you, brother. At least, not yet.”

Peter turned his head to the sorceress. “... It isn't---” He hesitated for a second in his words. “It's a mutant. She's creating these monsters. A mutant that got off her prison bed with the wrong foot and I got the brunt of that.”

“Loki--”

Wait .

“I know, brother. I'll get the source and you keep the streets clean; already on it.” She disappeared into a portal, leaving the teenager alone with Thor.

Loki?

“You're new.”

“Uh, yeah.” He heaved. “Kind of, yeah. Wait, is it too obvious?” That's really not what you should be asking about. Isn't Loki a threat? Like, big time? What.

Thor smiled, and it was so contagious. “You stay on the ground.” And he took off with his hammer.

Well, talk for another time, I guess.

“You're the boss!” Spider-Man said, probably to himself as Thor was already focuses on battling flying monsters. “Okay, okay. Here we go.” He took a few deep breaths, running his hands down across his chest, and jumped from one feet to another before breaking into a sprint, swinging his way into blocking monsters from civilians. A punch over here, a kick over there, while the sky roared with thunder.

And although he would've wished his team up action with the God of Thunder to last a little bit longer, and maybe even include some badass combination attacks, he was extremely relieved when the monsters disappeared. The sun was high and bright in the sky, but Peter guessed there was something else to blame for the rising temperature inside his suit. Not good, not good.

Spider-Man crawled to a rooftop, checking the area to see if every creature had disappeared back into the thin air that they had materialized from.

“Done.” On cue to thinking that Loki had been successful, came her voice from behind, walking towards him as she gestured with her hands. Thor came down from the skies upon the sight of Loki. “Too easy, to be honest. I think she was into me.” In a blink of an eye, her appearance had changed. Though, it was so minimal Peter would've taken longer to notice if it hadn't happened right when he was looking. Her hair was suddenly short, and her facial features changed as well. “Told you I am a fair maiden.” Her voice, too, changed; grew deeper.

“I think what our sister called you suits you far better, sister-trickster .” With some magic that lacked in the flashiness he had expected of Gods - since what he saw on Earth was nothing short on that, they changed back to Earth clothes. Huh . Casual Friday Thor.

“Thank you--” He bit his tongue. He sounded a bit too breathless for a fight that hadn't been that long. He couldn't afford to look shaken when Thor was barely phased at what happened. “Thank you the help guys. But I mean, I totally had that.” Yeah, the clear lack of breath on his part didn't back that up. At all.

“Which part did you have ? When you crashed through the window or when you almost got thrown into another one?”

Peter held up his index finger. “Almost.”

“Had it not been for me.”

“Loki, lay it off.”

Silence.

“So,” He clears his throat, putting a hand over his side, “you switch pronouns? Do people even have that construct of pronouns in space?” He looked between Thor and Loki.

“We do. But gender is different. We're not so hel-bent on outdated ‘customs’, since we never had them at all. I’m what you'd label as genderfluid.” Oh, word . “And you are--” What . “--barely able to stand on your feet.”

Peter rolls up the mask above his nose, taking in all the air he could while still having his chest movement restricted. It felt like it grew tighter with every inhale.  “I'm alright--I'm alright. Actually, can you do a check up with that magic of yours? I might, uh, I don't know. I feel like I broke something.”

And, honestly, whatever image he had built of Thor in the years he had spent admiring the Avengers remained in tact, maybe even better than before, as the incredibly tall God proved to be as gentle and caring as any one would want a God to be.

No time for that. He can think about how he owes Ned money for betting that Thor would still talk in archaic English.

“You were fighting all of that by yourself. I'm glad to see Midgard has good warriors in my absence.” Peter could swing over New York the whole day with just that compliment. “What do you call yourself?”

“Oh, I can take a wild guess .”

“Shut it, brother.”

Loki smiled.

“It's Spider-Man. The amazing Spider-Man. Or is the amazing too much? I'm still new at this, after all. Though, the newspaper calls me a menace.” He dismissed it with his hand. Fake confidence. “Easy misspelling of hero.”

“I've seen that Midgard has an habit of calling their heroes threats.” Thor mused. “And that suit,” he gestured loosely. “Stark?”

“Oh.” Peter looked down, then back up to Thor. “Yes. Mr. Stark made this. It's really neat, isn't it? Does it really look like Stark brand? Like, do you think people will associate me with the Avengers when they see me in this? Because I--”

“No broken ribs.” Loki interrupted, materializing an oversized yellow hoodie on the spider hero, zipping it up to the neck with a gesture of his hand. Peter stared at the Norse God for a moment there as he processed their actions. He slumped down, a hand sneaking under the hoodie to turn off the binder.

And he could breathe again.

“You're planning to cure him with a heat stroke?”

Loki raised a brow. A silence stretching out between them, without a comeback that ended it. He lifted his gloved hand, wiggling his fingers almost sarcastically as suddenly it felt chilly inside the hoodie. “You want one, too, brother? A hoodie with an AC? I can put a thunder pattern on it.”

“Oh, that'd be lovely, yes.” Thor smiled, then turning to Peter. Loki rolled his eyes. “So what was the cause of the pain? You can't tell me all is fine with a hoodie.”

“Well, uh, I was kinda fighting with a binder on. That might be it. Oh, a binder is like… I was binding my chest, right, and--I'm trans, by the way,” he cleared his throat, “a trans man--and then I got hit a lot in the chest. I'm starting to wonder if those monsters could sense it, like, that my chest was under stress.”

Loki’s explanation of whatever education Gods had of gender up in Asgard left a lot to be desired, but his phrasing towards his identity hinted that they most likely didn't have or use self-identifies the way humans did. But there was no time to even worry about explanations, since Thor seemed to understand him pretty well; the God’s frown clearing up his doubts. “If so, I'm glad some got a taste of uru before they vanished.”

“Tough luck. I'd recommend keeping the hoodie on and taking the day off, but something tells me you're not the textbook model of listening to warnings.” Loki shrugged. “ Anyhow , don't we have places to be? Or did you forget about the all-father all-together ? I'm fine with that…” His voice trailed off, a frown wrinkling up his features as he looked down at the golden circle suddenly surrounding him at his feet.

“Loki--”

“It's not me.” And there wasn't much else to say before, with a choked yell, he disappeared into the ground. Nothing was left behind of him aside a small presentation card .

Thor looked at it, then kneeling down next to Peter to show it to him. “You know where this is?”

177a. Bleecker Street. Oh yeah, that rang a bell.

Peter stood up, giving directions to Thor as to where to go and which route would take him there. “I don't know if you'll fly there or take a bus, but--do Gods take buses? Is that a thing they do?” Thor on a public bus. Now that was a visual.

“It’ll do.” That wasn't really an answer.

Before Thor left to climb down a few floors worth of stairs, Peter spoke up. “Wuh--wait!” Well, that was a bit louder and dramatic than expected. Especially since Thor hadn't even begun to turn away from him. He'll die of embarrassment about it later, when the memory of it wakes him up at night and he squirms in his bed in shame “Uh,” He had thought about how he would bring it up if he ever met him, but his brain was wiped clean. Nothing but white noise. “A few years ago, you know, you were here on Earth and crashed an anti-LGBT protest. I saw that on TV and… it meant a lot.” Peter opened and closed his hand. “Some people actually apologized to me after that. You know, for things they've said.” A hand reached up to his mask, hesitating for a second, before pulling it off his face with resolve, his opposite hand holding the hoodie in place. “... Thank you.”

Thor looked at him, his gaze soft. “No need to thank me.” He smiled. “The halls of Valhalla have never limited anyone's entrance based on who they are, but on their actions. I may not understand very well the history this behaviour has or its root, but know that their kind of hatred has never been a practice in the rest of the Nine Realms, not even under my father's rule.” He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “To blindly claim your Gods would judge any of you… Rest assured that a pit of woe on Hel is reserved for each one of them.”

Well, he was speechless. He nodded at the Norse God, smiling a little too widely. “Th--thank you. Thank you. That was-- thank you. ” Wait, did Thor just say they'll burn in hell?

He nodded back at him, patting his shoulder with a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Spider-Man. I'm going to get my brother back now.” He held up Dr. Strange’s invitation card. “Tell Anthony I say hi. Oh, and that Loki is back.” The smile betrayed what he surely must know about what Earth saw Loki as. Admittedly, they did seem different now.

Wait-- back? Did he die? Peter didn't really get to see him in the attack on New York but that didn't end with his death, did it?

He really is out of the loop of interdimensional hero business.

Spider-Man placed his mask back on, his energies replenished as he made his way back to the alley where he'd left his backpack.

Part of him wishes he would've found yet another empty alley as it tends to happen when he leaves his backpack alone in shady places, but today fate was kind enough to let him find it untouched, his phone waiting for him inside it with a few texts from Mr. Stark that could've set off his spider sense.

Drop by the compound this weekend.

He had known he had gone over the limit. He had to know. Coincidences happened, but when he never got any reply from Happy, let alone a message signed as Stark, he had to think it was related to him recently going against warnings.

Suit upgrade.

Yep. That had to be it. The all-seeing eye of Mr. Stark somehow had been aware of his binder overuse.

But hey, he got to meet Thor and got confirmation that, should that be the Heaven assigned to him, his taking of T wouldn't affect his entrance to Valhalla.

That was pretty neat. He should've taken a photo with him.

Chapter Text

“He told you to go to the compound?!”

Peter shushed him, looking around to see if Ned’s words caught anyone's attention in the grocery store.

“You're really an avenger now.”

Again, at the mention of such, Peter was a little hesitant in his nod, but didn't back out. “Yeah, I told you.” That sounded more like he was convincing himself. “But I don't know.”

“Are you really thinking twice about going to the Avengers’ compound ?”

“Is that even called like that anymore? Like, you don't see any of them together anymore. Should be the Stark compound.”

“Dude.”

“I heard even Vision left.” Peter continued, his eyes skimming over the products without really processing anything he was seeing.

“I know what you're doing.” Ned looked at him, and they held a short staring contest before Peter gave up with a resigned sigh.

“I haven't seen him, or talked to him, since he gave me the suit. I can't just-- I should've brought it up in Germany, but… that whole thing--fighting Cap and all of that--it was a lot to digest, you know? Too many things happening at once.”

“If he asks why you didn't say anything in Germany, you tell him you were too busy thinking about fighting Captain America. ”

“How am I even gonna bring that up? Like,” he grabbed a bag of cookies from the shelf, “ oh, hi, Mr. Stark. Thank you for inviting me. By the way, I don't like that you figured me out and told Ms. Potts about it. ”

Ned’s gaze wandered off, considering the scenario shortly before nodding. “Yeah.”

“What? No! I sound like a brat. He gave me a suit worth more than our places together.” Peter pointed at the cookies.

“So?” Ned raised his brows, then looking down a the bag on his friend’s hands. “No, I want something else.”

“I can't just act like that.” Peter placed the bag back on the shelf.

“And he can't just out you when you're not okay with it.” Ned followed him into a different aisle.

“... I mean, Happy was normal about it. So,  Ms. Potts probably was, too.”

“Peter, you were talking about how you'd like to come out to the Avengers before he showed up. Don't pretend it doesn't annoy you.”

“I know, I know.” He scratched the back of his head. “If I knew things were gonna go down like this, I would've told him myself, but...” He looked at the candy bars he had picked. “Yeah, I wanted to tell him.”

“Yeah. That's the problem.” Ned mulled over Peter’s situation for a second, picking one of the bags of gummy worms in the shelf and handing it to Peter. “You think you can tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“About what you just told me. That you wanted to come out to him yourself.”

Peter frowned. “No! Of course not.” The proportioned and unmeasured strength of a spider crushed the gummy worms in his hands, some even flying out of it. Both him and Ned looked over to the store attendant, whose gaze didn't even flinch from the magazine he was reading. He knelt down to pick up his mess, shaking his head the more he thought about the scenario where he'd most likely sound ungrateful to the man that build him a custom spider suit. “No, no. Nope. That's a no from me.”

“You can't keep it a secret! You're part of the team!” Ned helped him with the candy that flew out onto the shelves and other products. “It'll turn into bitterness and you'll hate being an Avengers which is, like, not something you want when you're now friends with Thor.”

“Well--no, I mean, it's not like that. I don't feel like that. I just-- I feel like…” Peter felt silent for a moment. “I don't know.” He shrugged, looking down at the gummy worms on his palm. “Things are looking pretty bad for the Avengers, you know?” Peter whispered as Ned knelt down next to him too. “I don't know if I should, you know…”

There was a silent, mutual understanding of the pressure that had the world witness as earth’s mightiest heroes disbanded. With the fame they had acquired over the years, it’d be hard to keep up appearances and pretend the Avengers Tower hadn't become synonym to an empty haunted house where instead of a lady wailing, it’d be the sound of Mr. Stark’s guilt. He was dealing with enough. And yet Peter couldn't shake off the uneasiness.

“Won't it be worse if there's more fighting between the members thanks to this?”

First he had to be part of the team, and that team had to be present to have Mr. Stark out him.

“Let's just pay for this and go.”

“Instant popcorns?”

“Instant popcorns.”

“So, do you want me to drop you off at Ned’s this weekend? So you don't stay alone while I'm at my appointment.”

“About that….”

Aunt May looked at him.

“Mr. Stark told me to go to the compound this Saturday. It's part of the internship. Kind of like a reward because I've been doing so well.”

“What, a house tour?”

“Oh, that'd be so cool.” She raised her brows at the answer. “I mean, maybe. But it's mainly just, science stuff, you know. Building stuff…” Peter trailed off. “He took an interest when he saw the computers I built myself, so...” That sounded believable enough. He looked at May as he drank his juice.

“Science stuff. Huh, okay. You know you can be more specific with me, you know. I know I won't understand it but it's something you like, you can tell me about it.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He smiled. “It's just that he wasn't really specific neither, he might test me and see what field I'm better at. Chem, physics, engineering, that stuff.” He shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth. “He might favor that last one. I don't know.”

She squinted. “You don't sound very excited.”

“What? I am!” He quickly drank from the glass again, receiving Aunt May’s doubtful stare all the while. “This is really good, Aunt May.”

“Making lemonade isn't a challenge, honey. Getting you to tell me things is, it seems.” She raised her brows, shrugging.

“It's not like that, c’mon! I've been trying to ignore it, so in a way I don't even want to talk about it with myself.”

“What is it? Did he do something?”

And you don't know how much it killed him his first reaction wasn't no. Yet, he still approached it like that. “ Well… ”

“Peter, what happened?”

That tone was too serious. He didn't like that tone.

“He told Ms. Potts. And then his bodyguard walked in when he was making a binder for me.”

Silence.

“ What? ”

“He needed a model for the binder so he asked Miss--”

“He could've just called you!”

“It was during the issue with the Accords, he must've been--”

“I don't care what he must've been! And why did he have to tell his bodyguard ?!”

“Well, they're also friends--”

“Peter!!”

“I know, I know, but I mean he did get me a really good binder for fr--”

“I rather buy you one than have him out you to all his friends!”

“Ms. Potts is his--”

“If you had come out to me before Ben I wouldn't have told him. I would have waited for you to tell him.”

“That's another type of--”

“How is it another type of thing ? When you told me I didn't go around telling people! That's what it is! I don't care if that bodyguard is his twin and if his girlfriend is his soulmate!”

“You didn't because you asked me and I told you not to!”

“So you think I would have done the same as he did?”

“No, no! Of course not! But it's different. Like, he doesn't know much about these things probably. You do because, well, you live with me.” She opened her mouth to add something, but Peter chimed in. “And no, sexuality doesn't count in this. You know why.”

“Fair.” He could still sense how mad his aunt was at Mr. Stark even with that single word. “So he didn't ask when you came out to him? He just assumed he could because you told him and that's still bad, Peter.”

“...”

And it only took that awkward smile and scrunched up nose for Aunt May to know .

“I don't like what that means.”

Peter shrugged, forcing his smile wider.

“You told him, right?”

He pressed his lips into a line. “I was planning to--”

“How does he know, then?!”

“He… figured it out by himself? I don't know, I haven't-- I haven't asked him. He kind of just,” He shook his head slightly, inhaling, “ knew .”

Aunt May looked at him, sighing.

“Do you think that---I mean, do I look like…?”

She didn't let him finish that thought. His aunt lost no time in cutting him off with a strong no as she leaned into the countertop and placed a hand on his face. “No.” She then cupped his chin. “He's an entitled asshole, that's what he is.” The rage kicked back into her, standing back up and slamming her palms onto the counter. “And now he wants you to go to--you know, what?” She walked to the living room, grabbing her phone from the center table. “I'm going with you. I need to see that man.”

Peter jumped off his chair, a chain of ‘no's falling out of him, fearing whatever she was about to do with her phone even if he knew she didn't have his number.

“I am! I'm going to cancel my appointment and go with you, he can't say no to that. Neither can you.”

“Please, please, please. Don't. I can do this---I have to handle this. And you don't have to stop taking care of yourself for me.”

“Peter,” She put the side of her hand to her chest, “ I could be dying and I’d still crawl all the way to his tower or wherever that man lives to have a talk with him.”

Yeah, the way she said talk made it clear that talking was the last thing she meant with that.

“Okay, okay, you're right. But I need you to let me handle this, yeah? I mean, I have to. I will tell him I'm not okay with it.”

“And that you don't like it.”

“Yes.”

“And that it's disrespectful.”

“Yes. That, too.”

“And that he has no right to do something like that to anyone, let alone my Peter who's been working so hard between school and his internship. Who does he think he is?!”

“Might revise that one before saying it to him.”

She raised a brow at him, crossing her arms.

“I can't call him disrespectful if I won't be any better!”

She pursed her lips, nodding with a huff.

She wasn't convinced.

Neither was he.

Chapter Text

Most of the ride to the compound was silent. Much to Happy’s luck, Peter thought. Yet jokes and all the like still weren't enough to get rid of, even for a moment, of the weird mix between excitement and dread, the latter resurfacing stronger than ever once he saw Happy again.

“ Soooo, ” He could see in Happy’s eyes already he was ready to roll the window up between them. “How did Ms. Potts take it?”

“What?”

“You know. When Mr. Stark told her about me.”

“I don't know, I didn't see that part.”

“Did she tell you anything? After Germany? Did you hear her and Mr. Stark talk about it?”

“Kid, listen--” Happy’s ringtone cut him off, quickly picking it up and immediately switching to sounding professional, proudly boss-y. He really liked his job. The ride was over before the call ended, keeping him from continuing the conversation. While still on the phone, he walked him through the security clearing, until the common room. Downstairs , he mouthed with a hand pressed to the phone's speaker before returning his attention to the call and heading to somewhere else in the compound, talking about things Peter didn't really care to understand. Not when his mind was going haywire with another matters, which were catching up to him a little bit too fast. He could feel his heart beating louder, anxiety punching him in the stomach as he looked down at the staircase. Peter gripped at the straps of his backpack, leaning from the top step of the staircase as if to get look to the lower floor it led to before following Happy’s instructions and heading downstairs in slow steps.

And where he was where he should be, the wonder he felt almost covered for the anxiety. He could be dreading how this day was going to play out, and whether or not he was up to what everyone and his own mind was telling him to do, but seeing years of technology condensed into one space, right before him and not narrated to him through his TV screen with landscape shots of Stark Expo, made him forget about his problems for a second. A moment of relief that ended as fast as it started; the bubble around him popped, Mr. Stark’s voice piercing through it.

“There you are.”

“Hello, Mr. Stark.” He sounded tense already.

“Welcome to my little mancave of sorts. We're still moving things around so it's not done yet. Congrats on your history test, by the way. That's worth celebrating. You do toast with, what, kool-aid? A capri sun?”

“Thank you. Uh, no, I'm good, sir.”

Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes at him, waving his right hand behind him; a robot arm approaching him stopped clumsily at the gesture, turning around.

“Right. So, how are you feeling? How's the suit been working out? Aside from you overusing the binder for a B-list mutant.”

Yep, he knew.

“There were a lot of people around and then Thor , I couldn't just--”

“So, you'd rather break something, is what I'm getting.”

“I didn't… break anything.”

“What happens when your luck runs out? It could decide whether you win or lose and losing doesn't mean an afternoon in detention room.”

“I know…”

“You don't--”

“I know! I know I could get killed for it, but--”

He paused, silence stretching out between them. Mr. Stark crossed his arms. “But what?”

And it was so tempting to just let himself get carried over by the pent up emotions that were eating him alive. He thought about it as he looked at Tony Stark, how he could bring it up right now. How he could just get it over with, and maybe that weight slouching his shoulders would disappear.

So he opened his mouth, and then closed it. “Nothing.” Peter tightened his grip around the straps of his backpack. “I'll be more careful next time.” Strong work, Parker.

He tried to drown out the feelings of disappointment aimed to no one but himself as they moved onto the next subject; Peter handed him the suit he brought in his backpack, and with a few movements of his hands on the holographic screens, Mr. Stark was now updating it with the mysterious upgrade.

“I was also meaning to call you to show you these.” He led Peter to a wide table with heaps of cloth on top of it, crossing his arms and gesturing loosely at his work. “You mentioned something about Stark brand binders, so, you know. Thought I'd show you where that's leading to.”

It felt like a terrifying deja vu, how Peter had something to gawk at again and forget about what troubled him, but the break was short as another voice didn't even let another bubble of childlike wonder grow around him to protect him from the world.

So, yeah, remember that weight? Well, it just grew twice the heavier.

“ Tony. ”

Pepper Potts joined them.

Before approaching Peter, she gave a look to Mr. Stark. “You must be Peter. I've heard a lot about you.”

“I have too--it'd be impossible not to.” Wait . “I mean that in a good way. Yeah.”

She smiled. “I wanted to welcome you, but someone forgot I had said anything about it at all.” With the smile still playing on her lips, she turned her head to Mr. Stark, raising her eyebrows at him.

“I know right. Happy has his head all over the place lately, huh? I'll give him the talk later.”

“ Sure. By the way, I need you to at least look over the list that'll be on the plane.”

“Right, right.” He took the folder, skimming through the pages. “I'll take a look at it. Later.”

“Now.”

“We're kind of in the middle of something here.” He gestured between him and Peter before he turned completely to him. “You like them? I didn't get to gauge your reaction before we were rudely interrupted.”

“Oh, yeah. I--I love them. They look great, sir. This-- this will make a lot of people happy. You've been working on these this whole time?”

“Yeah, every now and then.” Mr. Stark shrugged.

“ Every day. ” Ms. Potts mouthed to Peter. “You'll look at the list when you're done.”

“I will.”

“Alright, well, it was nice to finally meet you, Peter. I'll leave you two to have fun.” She headed upstairs, not before one last thing; “FRIDAY, make sure he does see it, please.”

“Of course.” Tony Stark’s A.I. spoke, a pink tinted hologram materializing not long after. Now that was new.

“Wow.”

“Peter, FRIDAY. FRIDAY, Peter.”

“Hello, Peter.”

He waved at her, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Though, he awkwardly tried to hold it back as he noticed Mr. Stark looking at him. This anxiety was killing him.

“I upgraded it to voice activation. The binder. Say something to FRIDAY. Anything.”

Peter looked between him and the hologram. “... Bind?”

“Alright. Done. It'll switch on and off when you say that.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, that sounds cool.”

Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. No doubt.

Mr. Stark nodded, looking at him in silence for a moment before he gestured with his head. “Go test it out.”

Peter complied.

In the bathroom, Peter felt like the best chance he could've had to naturally bring the problem up was gone and that he wouldn't get another chance like that. He leaned against the ceramic wall, pressing his hands to his eyes because he knew that even if he got another chance he wouldn't bring it up. He wouldn't. He couldn't. It terrified him. He bit back the tears and got his phone out, fumbling with it before he quickly sent a text to Aunt May. Even with that, he hesitated to press send. But he did. He continued to have an existential crisis of sorts, leaving his phone on the sink table so his hands were free to open and close anxiously, nails scratching into his palms.

After what felt like an hour of that, he put on the suit, saying bind to himself, then repeating it twice as a whisper to see it come off and on with no issue. Peter looked at himself in the full body mirror, closing and opening his fists and now it felt different. Yes, the anxiety still lingered behind but…

He dragged his hands down his face, pulling on his skin. His chest fell and rose with deep breaths.

Come on, Parker.

He put on the mask.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony turned around in his swivel chair to face Peter, fully dressed in his spider suit. “Works fine?”

“Yeah.”

“You know you could've just taken it off in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Silence.

“Alright, this is awkward. I should be saying something right now. A lot of things--no, just one.” Peter talked fast, not leaving room for Tony to add anything. He turned completely to him, tilting his head slightly as the kid rambled on. “Okay, okay, here goes nothing.” Peter walked from one place to another, in circles, folding and unfolding his arms across his chest as he spoke. “So--okay, yeah, don't get me wrong, I love this suit. I love my room, the phone, everything you've given me. It's--it's amazing, sir. I just--if I don't say this myself Aunt May’s aunt sense will go off and she'll either beat it out of me or--”

“Boss.” FRIDAY interrupted him, and it was too easy for Peter to not continue talking. “We have hostiles incoming.”

Chapter Text

May Parker sat before the wheel in her car, letting out a heavy exhale that felt she had been holding in the whole day; ever since she left Peter alone in the building to wait for Stark’s bodyguard to pick him up.

Her appointment ended fast, a little bit too fast, and she was left alone with her thoughts in the parking lot, hands on the wheel, her nails tapping at the rubber gripped beneath her palms. She looked at the time, then at her bag. There were things she had to do, things that she could do if it wasn't for that nagging feeling that had followed her ever since Peter told her what was bothering him.

Now, May respected his decision to stand up for himself and felt relieved that although Tony Stark was his idol, that didn't cloud his judgement (not too much, at least). But that same thing made her uneasy. It made her claw at the steering wheel harder than was necessary, feeling anxious and impatient while she turned the car on. The wrong word from that man could shatter Peter’s world, and she hated that he had so much power over him.

She drove out of the parking lot, whatever doubt she might've had about what direction to take next clearing up the more she thought about it. She couldn't quite put to words how glad it made her to see Peter standing up for himself to even the toughest foe yet, but he was still a kid coursing through high school whose worries should stick to homework and tests and crushes, not educating old men. It's not as if she was free of sin, but her ignorance didn't extend to refusing to admit she knew nothing about gender identity. Unlike that man, she knew she couldn't have Peter educate her with every slip she made, though he was eager to give her as much information as he could, sometimes even updating things unprompted when he said he understood himself a little better. Still, she found it to be fruitful to find information on her own, as Peter would look slightly more relaxed. It killed her to think he'd have the slightest doubts that she would do nothing but love him for who he is.

But of course, why would that billionaire care about the feelings of one of his company’s interns?

May pressed her fingers to her temple, looking out of the window as she stopped at a red light.

“I can't go back home and wait for him and hope for the best. I can't.” She shook her head. “That man could be putting him through hell right now.” And he would be bearing it with a smile. A part of her still clung to doubt, for she didn't wish to intrude or come off as if she didn't trust him with taking care of himself, but still …

Her phone went off with a message. She checked immediately, hoping it was Peter and that it was anyone but Peter.

Can you pick me up when you're out of the doctor? He annexed the location.

And May Parker honked irritably, and quite uncharacteristically, at the guy in front of her that was taking too long to accelerate now that the light had turned green.

She pulled at the front of the compound, a gate arm with a hand written “under construction.” sign stopping her from comfortably parking right on the front door and storming in. Was she supposed to pull a ticket? Where was the security even? May looked around, pushing up her glasses as she stepped out of the car, her hands placed on her hips as she tried to make out a sign of life that’d let her in.

A male voice came from behind her, but she found nobody standing there as she turned around. As it continue to talk, she found it came from a screen on the wall. “He---- What? There's an empty car on the front gate.”

She hurried back to her car, narrowing her eyes at the man on the screen. Knowing that it was a two-way video feed didn't stop her from showing her judgment towards this whole place. “I'm here to pick up Peter.” She gestured at the gate as she got back into her car. “Open up.”

“Uhh-- you're May Parker.”

She turned on the car.

“Well, uh, boss is busy--”

“I'm here to pick my nephew up.”

“What's going on?” From the bodyguard’s side, a female voice came from somewhere out of the camera’s reach. Unlike the man standing in front of the camera, she recognized it from the many times she had seen and heard her on TV; Pepper Potts.

“Nothing, I got this--”

“Are his fans trying to get in?”

May rolled her eyes.

“Not---Not exactly, it's May Parker.”

The woman peeked in from the side of the screen. “Oh, my god, you're Peter’s aunt, aren't you?” The bodyguard seemed to be awkwardly trying to not be pushed off the screen. “I didn't know you were coming, we would've had Happy pick you up. What are you doing?” She looked back to the man now behind her. May guessed that was Happy. “Let her in.”

And the following, albeit muttered under his breath, was heard clearly.

“But Tony said--”

“Stark doesn't want me here?”

“Yes. I mean, no, he doesn't.” Happy tried to look firm; assertive in his position. “They're not done yet. Come back later.”

May narrowed her eyes, and if she hadn't been piercing holes through the screen with her gaze she would've noticed Pepper’s reaction wasn't too far from her (not with the same contempt, of course). She nodded, feigning a smile as she put the car on reverse and left the entrance, driving out of the screen they saw her in.

Happy looked at Pepper. “What? Boss’ orders.”

“She could've just waited in the lobby, you kn--”

And then there was a crash, the under construction sign now flying free in the wind.

“Mister Stark, I--”

“Boss.”

FRIDAY materialized between them.

“We're in the middle of something here. Something important, by the looks of it.”

“We have incoming. In three, two…”

There was a distant noise , and then yelling from Happy upstairs. He didn't remember inviting any terrorists over this time, but suiting up came as a reflex, easy as breathing. Might as well be ready before his new place explodes and stalls Rhodey’s progress.

“Sir--”

“Alright. Go around for a test run.” Tony held up an arm at him, pieces of his armor flying to it, and the rest of his body as he walked away from Peter. “And don't engage.”

“The workshop-frontyard exit isn't ready yet, boss.”

“Stairs it is, then. Have the front doors ready for me.” As he flew away from Peter and past Happy and Pepper, he couldn't hear the ‘wait's from the former. Maybe that would've kept his property from taking more damage when he scared the hell out of the driver. Now the perfect green grass the gardener worked hard on had black tire marks all over it. He recognized that car .

“Why didn't you tell me it was the kid’s aunt?”

“You didn't ask.” FRIDAY’s voice replied inside his helmet.

He landed in front of the car; big mistake.

May Parker was sitting behind the steering wheel, one hand fixing the stray locks of hair caused by the abrupt stop of the car. She made eye contact with Tony, and the sheer intensity of it made him reconsider whatever he was about to say. She didn't take her eyes off of him as one hand reached to her right.

He heard her shift gears.

“Looks like you're in trouble.” FRIDAY added as Tony took the car impact with his armor’s palms, but May only took that as a challenge to dig her heel further into the pedal. “The car took damage from the impact.”

“If you want to run me over can we do this in the pavement? No?” She kept accelerating against him. “I'll take that as a maybe.”

From indoors, Pepper and Happy watched the… spectacle unfold. Certainly, Pepper had seen a lot of freaky things involving Tony, before and after the whole superhero deal, but seeing a simple woman crash through the gate barrier and then put all the speed she could into crashing into Iron Man had to take the cake.

“What the…” Pepper peeked over her shoulder to see Rhodey approaching them, using Tony’s prosthesis. “Tell me the painkillers are making me see things.”

Pepper looked back to the fight, if you could call it that, crossing her arms as she replied to Rhodey. “I think Tony pissed off Spider-Man’s aunt.”

“Oh, the kid’s here?”

“Tony left him in the workshop.”

“I wanted to meet him. I told Tony I wanted to meet him.”

“He didn't even tell me when he arrived.”

“Yeah, well, not so sure if I want to now, though…” Rhodey trailed off, the smile he was trying to hold back behind his palm growing into a laugh at the sight of the invincible Iron Man, suit of armor and all, leaning against an old car that couldn't have a tenth of his strength.

Tony gave the car a little bit of lee-way, hesitant in pushing back or even just being in front of the car. Not like he couldn’t offer them a new, better car if he were to so much as scratch this one (which he already did),  but the look in May’s eyes told him she would set whatever car he offered her on fire. “You need to put your feet away from the pedal.”

She didn't listen.

“You're bending the car’s hood, boss.”

He let go, maneuvering with his boots repulsors over the car. “Whatever I did, we can talk about it without ruining the grass.” Again, no answer. He looked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window from where his friends were looking at him. Happy was on his phone, head of security time, most likely. Rhodey gave him a thumbs up. Pepper shook her head. Tony held out his arms. “She's the one attacking me. What do you want me t--”

Take the hit, apparently; Friday didn't bother with that one as the car did hit him enough this time before he got away, taking off the ground.

May drove out if the grass, into the pavement and stepped out of the death machine her car was. Tony decided it’d be wise to stay hovering a few feet above the ground on his armor. Nice and cozy and protected from the pocket knife she was probably ready to stab into his gut if almost running him over wasn't enough.

“You told me to get out of the grass.”

“Yeah, I see you were trying to get me off of it, too.”

She crossed her arms.

“If you're mad that I--”

“Where's Peter?”

“Uh, inside.” In a lower voice, he told FRIDAY to have Peter go back to the workshop and change.

“He never left the compound.”

“Of course he didn't.”

“What?” May crossed her arms.

“Nothing.”

“Are you going to stay up there, Stark? Get down.”

Stark . “Only if you promise no more murder attempts.”

“Get down here.”

He complied, though keeping the armor on auto-pilot. It's not that he feared her, but… yeah, no, he really didn't want to mess with May Parker.

“I gave the kid some new toys; high-tech parts to build better computers.”

“You can't fix everything like that. Money won't hide your fuh---”

And then Peter’s voice cut her off.

“Aunt May!” He walked fast towards her, wearing the same clothes he had arrived with. “Didn't you get the other message?”

“I got your message, I’m here to pick you up.”

“No, no, the other message. The one I sent after that.”

“... I didn't see that one. But it doesn't matter, because this man didn't even want to let me in while he was making you deal with him.”

“I'm sorry what ?”

“Your bodyguard said so.”

“He---” Tony stopped abruptly, brows furrowing as he looked over to Happy in the distance. “He misunderstood. And what's this thing about dealing with me? Is that--”

“Of course you don't know! Maybe if you tried to look at your actions---” May cut him off.

“Aunt May.” Peter spoke up, raising his hands as he stepped between May and Tony. “I was going to tell him. That's why I sent you the other message. You don't have to make an scene.” He spoke quickly between his teeth, trying to have his words be heard only by his aunt.

“It's a little bit too late for that. She did a work on my front yard.” And the look that May gave him almost punched an apology out of him. “But I'm guessing I deserved it.”

May crossed her arms.

“Can you wait for me in the car?”

“Are you sure?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and he nodded in response. “Okay.” Her hand reached Peter’s cheek, caressing it before giving Tony the stink eye and leaving. He had his suit fly back into the compound as well.

Once May was out of earshot, Peter’s shoulders rose with a deep inhale and his gaze met Tony’s for a second before it sunk to the ground. “I don't like it.”

Oh.

“... The suit?”

Peter was noticeably taken aback. “No, it’s--I’m pretty sure I said I loved it like a thousand times.”

“Well, kid, do me a favor and be a little more specific because I have no idea what's gotten into you.”

“Of course you don't.” Tony’s face must've had excuse me written all over it because Peter lost no time in stumbling with his own words as he offered his explanation, clearly panicking. Tony erased the surprise off his face. “I mean--okay, listen, with all due respect, sir, if you didn't want me to overuse the binder with the suit you shouldn't have given me one to begin with. A suit, you know, like this. It's great, yeah, and it means the world to me that you did it but you-- you don't understand... I'm supposed to be Spider-Man and Jameson won't shut his mouth if he ever catches a picture of this skin tight fabric showing,” he gestured wildly, “You know! What doesn't belong. If I was in another planet I wouldn't even need a binder, but I'm here...” He trailed off.

May was right. She should've burnt off the front yard.

“Dysphoria, right?”

Peter nodded.

Tony fell quiet, taking a moment to let his mind process everything Peter had just said. Nodding to himself, his hand played with his left sleeve,fingers then sliding to his wrist. His throat was dry. He left the Kool-Aid inside. Maybe he should have Dum-E bring it to him. “I've actually been considering to--”

“Wait, wait… I'm, uh, I'm not done.” Peter cut him off.

He nodded. “Go on.”

Peter inhaled deeply again, and then let the words roll out of his mouth quickly. It wasn't all there was to it; the weight, the vibe he had carried into Tony’s workshop had yet to disappear. Actually, it seemed it was tenfold of what it was when Peter saw him.

“I don't…” He turned his head away, vaguely gesturing with his hands. “I wanted to--I know I said I was cool with it, but the more I thought about it… I would've liked to tell Ms. Potts. And Happy.”

“Last one’s on him. You'd think he'd know to knock.”

“...”

“Sorry.” Bad time for jokes. Peter didn't say anything else. “You've been holding onto that since Germany?” Tony added. No wonder May wanted to beat his ass, if her nephew had spent this whole time visibly stressed in their place and she knew he was the source of it.

Peter’s hands looked for pockets to shove them in, then just crossing his arms after a second of that posture, shrugging his shoulders as he nodded. Tony could see he felt too hyper aware of himself and the space around him right now, as he awkwardly just stood there.

“You--you know how I just… talked about you not understanding?”

“There's something else.”

“I know--I don't--” Peter stuttered, looking away and sighing heavily. “You should have called me. Even if you just looked at me and--and knew, you--you should have… I wanted to…” He stopped, taking a second to sort himself out. “Again, I--I love the suit, the surprise and, uh, you know, but… I wanted to tell you, sir. I think that, you know, what bothers me more is… that you just… knew. You could've….” He shook his head and pressed his lips into a line, dropping his shoulders. That was the weight.

Fuck.

There wasn't much he could think as an actual good offer to make up for all of his mistakes. No single idea that was actually worth it (maybe getting run over by May again), that could fix the damage and stress he had so easily left this kid to carry as soon as he had walked into his life. His arm felt heavy, numb and his right hand’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. “I'm sorry.”

Peter nodded.

“I took this from you, didn't I?”

“Huh?”

“Deciding when to come out. To me. To us.”

Peter answered again with a single, short nod.

There are a lot of things on his mind right now; hundreds of sentences starting with I should have and I shouldn't have . Though, this is how everything would go down at the end of the day, whenever he involved himself. You don't spend a life as Tony Stark without befriending the guilt that’d wake you up every night, if you were lucky catch any shuteye at all.

This wasn't about him.

“I didn't tell anyone else, just to leave that out there. Rhodey doesn't know.” He dug his dull nails into his left hand’s palm, then stretching out his fingers. “You know, we can reach a mutual agreement about this issue with the binder.”

Peter didn't answer.

“It's up to you, of course. I've been wondering what might be your stance on that, since there's always exceptions, but I think you made that clear now.” A pause. He looked at Peter, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

“I'll pay for your surgery.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his gaze still was fleeting, flickering back and forth from Tony’s faces to anything but him. It seemed fair now that he had been avoiding looking him in the eye this whole time, and even had planned to tell him all of this with a mask on.

“ What ?”

“If you're up for it.” He pulled out his phone, swiping and typing before tapping the screen twice to project the content into a hologram for both of them to see. “I've been looking into it. It'll put you out of action for awhile, but it'll be less of an issue than the binder. I'll have to talk with your aunt, too, since you're still a kid and all of that.”

“Mr. Stark… that's…”

“I know it won't make up for it--”

Peter laughed, still visibly nervous. Hopefully for another reason now.

“What?”

“I don't---I don't know. I don't know what to say.” He pressed his hands to his mouth, then sliding back to run down his hair. His voice was cracking.

It seemed to add up, how one mistake worsened the effect of the other to have a stressed out kid, who already had too many things to worry about, as a result. It took him this long to tell him, but he can't say he wasn't at least a bit glad that Peter could look past his admiration for him to call him out on his mistakes. Which will happen often.

“You don't need to. Aside from a yes or a no.”

He nodded, looking up at Tony with teary eyes.

He felt the scars in the center of his chest tingle, and the sharp sting of a needle piercing through his heart.

“Yes.”

The kid went back to his aunt, engulfed in her arms as he told her the news. May hugged him tightly, stroking his hair and telling him things Tony couldn't hear and wouldn't try to. She looked at him, and maybe it was a hallucination but that bloodthirst from before seemed to have toned down; she was as moved as Peter was. Tony knew with their budget and the prices he had found, it has probably been but a goal for the far future.

There were a lot of horrible ways of ending your week.

Remembering how terrifying the sight of the sky is now, no matter how clear it is. Sitting in the middle of your workshop, silence engulfing you and mistaking it as peace as you close your eyes; hearing a faint ‘you could've saved us’ voice draw a sharp gasp out of you. Waking up to the feeling of vibranium being slammed against your chest.

But even though the realization that the first thing you did with your protégé was to fuck it up in every possible way ranked pretty high among the list of things he didn't want to end his week with, it could’ve gone way worse, as shown by May’s rage and Peter’s anxiety around him.

Seeing the stiffness disappear from Peter’s shoulders as relief settled in wasn't that bad.