Chapter Text
Tony bobbled his head from side to side, eyes locked on Peter. "So. I owe you an apology."
Peter nodded. Tony nodded back at him.
"Mr Stark, that's not an apology."
"It's implied." He worked out a kink in his jaw. "Fine. I'm sorry."
"Foooorrrr..."
"It's a little late in the evening to start an itemized list for you, kid." He turned back to survey the kitchen, kicked at the shards of a plate he'd definitely broken earlier. He wasn't sorry about that.
"Hold up!" Tony swirled around, one finger up. "So you and Thor, huh? Look, I will give you five grand to just dump his lunky ass now. You're sure I can't talk you out of this one?"
Peter looked around the room. Clint Barton was passed out on the overstuffed couch. Bucky's severed arm rested on top of the coffee table. Someone had mashed half of Peter's cheesecake into the rug. He stepped forward, pulled at the sleeve of his sweater with one hand.
"Yeah. I'm sure. Yeah."
"You know he's, like, 300 years old."
"I know, Mr Stark."
Tony's eyes cleared for a moment as he considered Peter in front of him, his brain attempting to reject the idea that his young charge was a consenting adult.
"Ok."
He turned and walked out of the room, screaming down the hallway, "Someone get me Thor!"