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“Kid, I need you to focus here if you’re going to help,” Tony says, biting back a sigh of frustration as Peter hands him a box wrench instead of the torque wrench like he asked for.
“Sorry, Mr. Stark. I got distracted is all,” Peter tells him, making sure to grab the exact wrench that Tony is pointing at. In his defense, they pretty much all look the same and are both called wrenches, but he isn't about to have that argument with Tony.
Taking the wrench, Tony slides the crawler back under the car until only his lower half is visible, his voice muffled as he continues the conversation he’d been having with Peter.
“Okay, back to this science fair project thing of yours. You want me to allow you full access to R&D for what exactly?”
“Well... okay, so there’s this really cool robot in the science lab at school and I thought—.”
“Let me stop you right there,” Tony says, sliding out from underneath the Audi.
“I know, I know. ‘We don’t do robots,’ you’ve told me before. Ned wanted me to ask anyway even though I told him you’d probably say no.”
“Smart kid, you do listen to what I tell you.”
Peter’s stomach grumbles and Tony raises a brow at him before sitting up, tossing the wrench on the concrete with a clatter. He can just make out the clock on the far wall of the garage and he’s pretty sure it’s close to six o’clock.
“FRIDAY? When will Miss. Potts be home?”
“According to Miss. Potts’ calendar, she has after work drinks with two contractors who will be doing the remodels on the buildings in Austin, Texas. I wouldn’t expect her for dinner tonight, Boss.”
“Right,” Tony says, clapping his hands before getting up off the ground. “C’mon, Parker. How does pizza sound? Text May, tell her I’ll bring you home later.”
Thirty-five minutes later, Tony and Peter are scrubbed clean of car grease and are occupying opposite ends of the couch, two large pizzas open between them. Tony has turned on some show Peter likes to watch on Friday nights and has opted to bring in both two liters of Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator, eliminating the potential need to get up and go into the kitchen.
“Don’t tell Potts we ate pizza on her pristine white couch or she’ll have my head and yours. FRIDAY, same goes for you,” he says, glancing upward toward the ceiling as the AI makes a soft chirping noise.
“Mr. Stark?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay to call me Tony?”
Peter at least has the decency to look sheepish at this and shrugs. “Sorry... Tony. Anyway, I know your wedding to Miss. Po—Pepper—is coming up soon and I know you told me Michelle can come as my date, which I’m super thankful for, like super-super thankful, but I was wondering... like... I dunno, could you...?”
“Peter, I have absolutely no idea where you’re going with this or what you’re asking me to do. You gotta give me something here, kid.”
“Canyouteachmehowtodance?”
Tony lowers the piece of pizza he was about to take a bite of and cocks his head to the side, an odd expression on his face.
“Care to repeat that?”
“Can you,” Peter begins, taking in a deep breath and holding it for a second, “teach me how to... you know, dance? Look, I know Miss—Pepper—made you take dancing lessons, like, forever ago because she told me and I don’t want to ask Aunt May for help because that’s embarrassing and I definitely don’t want to embarrass myself at your wedding in front of Michelle. Or Pepper. She’s always been so nice and helpful and she’s super pretty and...”
Peter trails off as both of Tony’s brows raise curiously and his cheeks pink up slightly when he notices that Tony is trying to hold back a laugh.
“You’re in high school, Pete. What do you do when you go to things like the homecoming dance?”
“You don’t actually dance at those, Mr. Stark!”
Tony doesn’t correct him because the horrified look on Peter’s face is enough to tell him that he’s seriously worried about looking ridiculous next month at his and Pepper’s wedding reception.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to learn from the master. Pep made me take dancing lessons four months into working for me, did you know that? Told me that if I was going to insist on bringing my flavor of the week to various charity events, I had to at least know how to dance with them, and dance with them well. Worst two weeks of my life, but it’s paid off in the end, I think. Pepper isn’t making me take them before the wedding, so that’s a plus,” he says as he stands, pushing the coffee table out of the middle of the floor.
“What are you doing with the coffee table?” Peter asks around a mouthful of pizza.
“Manners, Parker. And if you want to learn how to dance, we’re going to need room.”
Peter’s eyes go wide and he unfolds his legs from beneath him, his socked feet hitting the smooth hardwood floor. He takes another second to finish swallowing what’s in his mouth and shakes his head as Tony instructs FRIDAY to play something with an easy tempo to mimic a waltz.
“We’re going to dance? In your living room? What if Pepper comes home?! I can’t let her see me like this! It’s embarrassing!”
“Easy kid, she’s marrying me, not you. There’s nothing to worry about, you heard FRIDAY down in the garage, Pep’s out with some contractors she’s hired. Now get up and come over here. I’ve already committed to this, so you can’t back out.”
Peter drags his feet as he gets up, wiping his greasy palms on the front of his jeans, and moves to stand in front of Tony, his shoulders slumped.
“I promise, once you get the hang of a basic waltz, you’ll have no problem. It’s a pretty simple, one-two-three rhythm and you’ll be the lead. Here, watch my feet,” he instructs, falling into the familiar dance steps as he counts the one-two-three rhythm out loud for Peter to hear.
Peter watches Tony move with a skeptical expression on his face. He definitely can’t move like that; he may be quick on his feet thanks to the spider bite, but he’s still clumsy and tends to trip over himself when he’s nervous or when he’s around a pretty girl that he likes. He groans, tipping his head back to glance at the ceiling and starts questioning every decision he’s ever made that led to him asking Tony Stark, his mentor, for help with dancing lessons.
He turns his attention back to Tony right as he finishes what Peter can only assume is the final move in the dance. It doesn’t look too hard, but in Peter’s experience, that means it’s going to be downright brutal.
“Did you see how I moved basically in a square? That’s called the box. Here, come stand behind me, but give yourself plenty of room; we’ll do the steps together slowly. Relax, Parker, you’re going to do great,” Tony says over his shoulder.
“Now, step forward with your left foot and land on the ball of your foot to keep your movements light. You’re going to start to bring your right foot next to your left, but you’ll plant yourself off to the right instead and then bring your left foot next to it.”
Tony repeats the same three steps a few more times for Peter to watch, taking care to do it slowly enough for Peter to follow and replicate. Stepping off to the side, Tony gives Peter the floor to complete the first three steps. He doesn’t do a bad job and it becomes clear rather quickly to Tony that Peter’s enhanced senses and flexibility helps him master the fluidity of the dance.
Steps four through six don’t go over nearly as well as the first three, mostly, Tony thinks, because the steps require Peter to move backward and while the kid is extremely nimble and quick on his feet, he can also be quite clumsy. He trips on almost every backward step he takes and at one point he ends up splayed on his back to which he begs Tony to end everything and starts talking about how he can just shuffle his feet and pass it off as dancing.
Tony of course, refuses this and tugs Peter up and settles him back on his feet. It takes much longer with the last three steps for Peter to get them down, let alone feel comfortable doing them at a typical waltz pace, but once he has the steps down, Tony encourages him to add all six steps together.
He counts out loud for Peter again, doing the steps in tandem with him until it seems like Peter has a decent grasp on the most basic footing. He’ll need to learn the quarter turn changes eventually, but for now, Tony thinks they should focus on the absolute basics.
“Alright, Peter, come here. We’re going to put this together,” Tony says, pivoting to face Peter directly. He grabs onto his hands and shows him how to properly hold onto his dance partner, but when Tony doesn’t let go, Peter looks up at him, slightly horrified.
“No, Tony. I can’t dance with you. You’re like my hero. And besides, I have two left feet; I’ll trample all over you.”
Shaking his head, Tony straightens his shoulders and adjusts his grip on Peter’s hand slightly.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, this is all a part of learning. Don’t follow my feet because if you do, you’ll throw off your steps. So look at my face, not at our feet.”
“This is so awkward,” Peter mumbles, though he knows there is no point in arguing the fact.
As Peter tries to waltz with Tony filling in as his dance partner, he finds it’s a little harder with a second person than it was when he was doing the steps by himself, and each time he steps on Tony’s toes, they have to start over from their beginning point. He knows deep down that the repetition will help him get the steps down, but that still doesn’t keep his frustration from bubbling up anytime he makes a misstep.
Tony is being so patient with him, encouraging him to try again until they’re moving repeatedly with little to no missteps or crushed toes. Confident that Peter has the general hang of everything, Tony suggests they talk more about the science fair project Peter has coming up while they continue practicing the dance steps. It’s one thing to be able to do them in silence where your concentration is focused only on your footwork, but another thing entirely to do it while holding a conversation with someone, Tony tells him.
Peter learns quickly that Tony’s suggestion is a good one because their conversation sometimes throws off his footing, but he thinks he’s getting the hang of it now as he bounces different ideas off Tony for what he can do for his project.
They’re so involved in their conversation and practicing Peter’s newly learned dance steps that neither of them hear the front door open or close, nor the sound of heels clacking on the hardwood floors.
“What is this?” Pepper asks, her voice slightly accusatory when she walks into the living room to see Peter and Tony dancing where her coffee table usually is.
“Pep! You’re home,” Tony says, dropping Peter’s hands and turning to face her. “FRIDAY said we shouldn’t expect you until late tonight. How was your meeting with the contractors, did they agree to sign the paperwork so we can get started on—,”
Tony stops mid-sentence and raises a brow at Pepper’s less than enthused expression. Then he realizes why she looks like she could possibly murder him right there on the spot.
Two grease stained pizza boxes remain on the couch and there isn’t a coaster in sight on the coffee table that’s been pushed to the side. Tony visibly winces and Peter takes slow, calculated steps off to the side and out of Pepper’s direct line of fire to where his book bag and shoes reside. He slips into them quickly, his gaze flickering between Tony and Pepper while the former tries his best to explain the situation in a way that won’t have Pepper throwing something at his head.
“Anthony Edward Stark I did not spend that kind of money on this couch for you to just—,”
“Kid! Where are you going?” Tony blurts out, seeing Peter trying to sneak toward the front hall so he can leave. Immediately Tony regrets everything all at once because not only did he do the two things Pepper told him never to do—“don’t eat food on my good couch!” and “don’t you dare set that glass down on this coffee table without using a coaster!”—but he’s also cut her off mid-sentence and that is something Tony learned to never do, years before they’d even started dating.
Peter’s shoulders go up to his ears as he tenses and turns toward Pepper and Tony, though he can breathe a little easier once he’s turned around because Pepper is still shooting daggers at the side of Tony’s face instead of his and Peter’s pretty sure if he doesn’t get out of there soon, he’s going to get caught in the crossfire.
“I’m just going to take an Uber back to May’s! Thanks for the offer of a ride though, Mr. Stark,” he says. “Hope you and Miss. Potts have a great rest of your night!”
Before Tony can convince Peter to stay, hell, to even offer him some cash to get home, the kid is out the door. He can’t really blame him, not with the way Pepper is about to explode. He closes his eyes when the door closes and takes two slow breaths, thanking god and science that he was able to eradicate the Extremis virus from Pepper’s bloodstream years ago, and turns back to face her, his hands up in surrender.
“Honey, I can explain…”