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Chapter Text

“- advantages helped the United States achieve victory in World War Two?”

Peter is mid sentence when he steps off the elevator and into Mr. Stark’s personal quarters at the Avengers Tower. The Incident™ with the Vulture has been nearly six or seven months now and since then Mr. Stark has really embraced his role as mentor. Peter spends several days a week and every other weekend with the billionaire and he is positively living for it. To the surprise of literally no one but Peter (and quite frankly Tony as well), Tony has allocated for the kid a room down the hall from his own. And much like his room in Queens, a bunk bed sits snugly in the corner - “For when you inevitably have your friend Fred over” “It’s Ned…”. The walls are decorated with nerdy posters, from Star Wars to Firefly to Doctor Who. Peter can't help but wonder if Mr. Stark had consulted May in this clear show of affection.

Another display of Tony's affection has Happy Hogan picking up the kid from school almost regularly. Peter lets Happy believe that he successfully gives off an aura of irritation- as if disgruntled at having to chauffeur around a teenage boy. And perhaps he is, but Peter sometimes catches a flicker of fondness when he slides into the backseat of the car mid sentence, rattling off details of his day and you won’t believe what savagery MJ threw at Flash today- I thought we were gonna have to send him to the nurse after the sick burn she laid on him.

Today is an ordinary Thursday like any other. Happy had picked him up after school, lectured Peter at length about how Asset Management was not synonymous for chauffeur and that he ought to make Boss pay him a salary for both. He pointedly ignores the grin Peter shoots him from the backseat and further ignores the way that smile grows into a blinding one when he realizes they are pulling into a Burger King parking lot before making their way to the tower.

Yes. An ordinary Thursday in almost every sense. He would arrive at the tower and escape down to the lab with Tony where they were excitedly designing a new suit for Rhodey - “Yes, kid, you’ve heard me call him Honey Bear but I don’t think he’d appreciate this design… So let’s do it” - until Pepper would drag them upstairs by their collar, Peter spluttering about how close they were to finishing and Tony shrugging, muttering how arguing with the woman would be futile.

Anyways.

Today’s schedule has been thrown off by some obviously useless meeting that Mr. Stark can't manage to talk himself out of. When Peter had theatrically thrown himself down onto the couch lamenting their lost time together his mentor had rolled his eyes, threw a pillow at him, and declared, “You’re smart, Underoos. I’m sure you’ll think of something to do without my magnanimous presence- And something that better not go boom.” To which Peter had then rolled his eyes. And Mr. Stark was right, Peter would find something to do with his time. In fact, a few hours of the man's absence would leave him time to study with Ned for their upcoming AP History Exam. Well- at Midtown every class was effectively an AP class.

Still looking down at the study guide in hand, Peter toes off his sneakers, ditches his backpack off to the side, and makes a hard right into the Stark’s kitchen area. He groans when all he finds in the refrigerator are health snacks courtesy of Pepper and absently says out loud, “It’s obviously C- The one about advanced tech like the atomic bomb or something.” It’s then that he spots several boxes of pizza on the table and, making a triumphant noise, carries one of them over to the island that separates the kitchen from the living room. He’s practically inhaling one of the pieces when Ned’s voice booms through FRIDAY’s system.

“No, Peter, it’s D. All of the above. We talked about this.” Peter scowls at Ned’s response before turning towards the counter behind him.

“No it’s not, Ned. Because if it were D then I would be wrong and that would put me at a 65% already on this practice exam and we haven’t even gotten through it all.” He’s climbing onto the counter near the fridge in order to get to the frankly useless cabinets above. “I can’t fail another exam, Ned! This last one is worth 60% of our grade! If I fail this final then I’ll fail the class and if I fail the class then I’ll be kicked out of school-”

“You’re top of our year, Peter.” You can almost hear Ned’s eye roll as he talks over Peter.

“- and if I’m kicked out of school then I’ll be forced to live on the streets exchanging sexual favors for money and I can’t do that, Ned! I wouldn’t even know what to charge- I mean, what’s the street value of a blow job, Ned? Do you know? Because I sure as shit don’t.”

At this point Ned is outright giggling over Peter’s theatrics. Through his diatribe Peter has pulled from his snack cabinet almost every Little Debbie you could name, a bag of M&M’s that he promptly drops onto the counter behind him without so much as wincing at the sound it makes, a huge box of cheez-its, and a spray can of whipped cream.

“Why do I even need to know this stuff?” he continues ranting. “It’s never going to be applicable. Now physics, chemistry- That’s what’s going to change the world.” Peter shoves everything except for the whipped cream can back into the hidey-hole before clambering down off the counter.

“Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it.” Ned almost manages to keep the undertone of laughter out of what is supposed to be a deeply serious and philosophical voice. Peter scoffs dramatically as he carries his score back over to the island with his box of pizza.  

“Don’t quote an adage at me, Ned.” He shoves the rest of his half eaten piece of pizza from earlier into his mouth which frees up his hands to simultaneously shake the can of whipped cream and pull out three slices of untouched pizza. And yes- Peter does in fact have every intention of smothering each of those pieces of pizza in whipped cream.

“You know what the takeaway is from World War Two that’ll help us avoid another world war?” Before Peter apply's a frightening amount of whipped cream onto each slice of pizza he sprays a generous amount straight into his mouth as he waits for Ned to respond.

“Make more Captain America’s?” Ned supplies helpfully, and though he can’t see, Peter rolls his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, cuz that worked out so well for us the first time. Dude is literally a war criminal, Ned.”

He rips into the bag of M&M’s with his teeth, a handful of them spilling out onto the counter, as Ned’s voice - exasperated and ever faithful to his childhood hero - fills the kitchen. “He’s been pardoned, Peter.”

“Wha- That doesn’t matter! Ned, I’m trying to tell you how to avoid World War Three here. I’m trying to save the planet.” Peter is dropping handfuls of M&M’s now onto the three whipped cream coated pizza slices.

“Right, right. Go on, Peter. I’m studiously taking notes. Lay on me those words of wisdom.”

Peter doesn’t answer immediately as he begins studiously and carefully stacking the three pieces on top of the other.

“You don’t need Captain America to avoid World War Three. It’s simple, my friend- Go through the entire world and eliminate everyone named Hitler. It’s also advised for art programs around the world to never deny applications. Now you see? Problem solved. Crisis averted. You’re welcome, America.” Peter smirks to himself as he folds his absolutely godless creation taco style, brazenly ignoring the way the whipped cream oozes out of the sides and onto his fingers. Shoving as much of the 'snack' into his mouth in a single bite as he can, Peter finally, for the first time since walking out of the elevator, looks up towards the vast living area and immediately makes eye contact with Tony Stark.

Time seems to stop but Ned’s howls of laughter certainly do not. They echo loudly through the kitchen area. Peter positively freezes at the scene before him.

Everyone is gathered in the living area. Everyone. Steve Rogers, the Captain America, who Peter is sure Mr. Stark hasn’t seen since Germany, sits on the edge of a sofa chair with the Falcon - Sam, Tony had finally informed him - off to one side, arms crossed intimidatingly over his chest while the much more intimidating and infamous Black Widow perches on the arm of the chair opposite Sam. It’s awful. The Captain’s brows are knit together in disgust… confusion? Peter isn’t really sure. Sam is scowling and damn Peter had really said some shit about the dude’s best friend, hadn’t he? The Black Widow, Natasha, unsurprisingly schools her expression into something unreadable and neutral. It is absolutely unnerving.

Though truth be told, it isn't the Rogue Avengers expressions he cares about.

Colonel Rhodes is sitting on the love seat nearest Peter, body turned slightly so that he can watch the kid. He’s got The Look™ on his face- The one Peter has only ever seen him send Mr. Stark’s way. His eyebrows are raised expectantly and his lips form a straight thin line of sheer disappointment and it would almost be funny if it weren’t directed towards him. Instead it makes him flush with something akin to shame. Mr. Stark though… If there were truly a God, he would have opened the ground beneath Peter’s feet and let the Earth swallow him alive.

Is it possible to die of embarrassment? Peter is acutely aware of the whipped cream on his cheeks and nose and he’s still frozen with half the pizzas shoved in his mouth. Mr. Stark looks somewhere between exasperated, not surprised in the least, and fifty shades of done with Peter. He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it again at a loss for words. And whew, how bad does it have to be when Tony Stark can't immediately think of something to say?

Ned’s peals of laughter ringing through FRIDAY’s system offers a blinding juxtaposition to the deafening and judgemental silence that stands between the collection of heroes (and traitors) sitting before him. Slowly Peter starts chewing before saying, “Ned, I’m gonna have to call you back.” It actually sounds a lot like “‘ed, I’m ‘av ta ‘all ew ‘ack”. Fortunately Ned speaks Peter and his laughter cuts off.  

A beat.

“Mr. Stark is standing right there, isn’t he? Has been the whole time?”

Tony quirks an eyebrow at the kid, gaze never leaving Peter’s, and with an emphasis that really makes that last letter pop says, “Yup.”

Another beat.

“R.I.P.”

The line goes dead and Peter continues to slowly chew. He let’s his eyes fall shut as if in doing so he might wake up from this nightmare. However, rather than waking up, what echoes through his head is, ‘what even is the street value of a blow job’. Peter nearly chokes at the memory. He maintains as much dignity as he can when Mr. Stark’s voice finally breaks the silence.

“That- There’s a lot to unpack there, kiddo.” Peter almost laughs that awkward nervous laughter. Almost. “I don’t know where to start- The failed history exam that you promised me you were ready for, that monstrosity in your hands, or the fact that you have a super secret snack stash in my kitchen that you aren’t sharing when you know Pepper has found and destroyed the last three of mine.” Tony looks positively offended, almost as if the latter truly is the icing on the cake of everything that has just transpired. Which, by the way- How ‘bout them spidey senses, amirite ? Spider-Man has never felt so betrayed by his abilities.  

Peter swallows down the rest of his bite and clears his throat to buy some time before giving a weak, “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah,” Tony huffs. “Not good enough, but we’ll circle back around to that.” The man glances between Peter and Rhodey, weighing his options. It’s when Rhodey shrugs a shoulder, the gesture so small you’d have to be looking for it to notice, that Tony sighs.

“Want to come introduce yourself to the class? I’m not sure you can make an introduction that will save you from the meltdown we just witnessed, but you’ve never been one to turn down a challenge, have you?” His lips are quirked in a way that tells Peter just how much Tony is enjoying the spectacle, no doubt making whatever the meetings agenda was all that much more bearable. Still, Tony’s wording has Peter’s cheeks color in further embarrassment. It wasn’t a meltdown.

Peter eyes the group thoughtfully. Mr. Stark has never shared the details of what had lead up to Germany, or just how much he’d lost in the aftermath, but Peter was a smart kid. He can put two and two together. There's no mystery surrounding the way Pepper’s eyes cut to Tony whenever any of the Rogue Avengers are mentioned. And Peter acutely remembers the black eye Tony had sported when they left Germany. Peter isn't clueless, he knows the incident has brought Tony more than just physical damage.

That in mind, Tony’s question has Peter’s gaze flicking back and forth between Steve and Tony before finally settling on the Captain. Peter doesn’t break eye contact with the man as he takes another bite out of his work of art, thank you very much, and says around a mouthful of food, “Not particularly, no.”

Before Tony can respond, frown on his face, Rhodey pointedly clears his throat and says, “Wrong answer, Pete.”

Peter finally breaks eye contact with the traitor and glances over to Rhodey, who he has a huge amount of respect for, and gives in. He sighs, sets his food down, grabs a dish towel to wipe his face and circles around the counter before climbing onto the arm of the sofa where Tony sits and tucks his feet under his mentors leg- An action that doesn't go unnoticed by anyone in the room save Tony Stark who absolutely pretends not to notice the level of familiarity displayed between the two of them.

The atmosphere is intense and awkward until Tony rolls his eyes when it becomes obvious that Peter isn’t going to offer anything up. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by Steve.

“Tony, when were you going to tell us?” Tony’s expression doesn’t waver but Peter’s breath hitches. Fuck. They know he’s Spider-Man. It’s over. Captain America in all his star spangled glory knows that he’s the one who stole his shield back in Germany and hell, Sam knows he’s the one who spun him up with webbing that he thought came out of Peter and yeah- Today definitely is not an ordinary Thursday to say the least. “How long have you known about him?”

Surprisingly it’s Natasha who cuts in, scrutinizing Peter so closely that he can’t help but squirm. He swallows thickly, eyes flicking between his mentor and the redhead. His heart rate spikes significantly at the realization that everyone knows he’s Spider-Man... A fact that he has perilously tried to keep secret. Panic rises from the pit of his stomach up to his throat. Peter feels like he might have a small heart attack as Natasha speaks.

“It can’t have been that long,” she begins slowly. “Clint and I are the best at what we do. We would have noticed. SHIELD would have found out. Not even Stark could keep something of this magnitude under wraps. No offense.”

Peter bristles and Tony scoffs, “Offense taken. You all vastly underestimate me.”

Tony shifts, shoulder pressing against Peter’s leg and Peter can’t help but wonder if his mentor can sense the nerves radiating off him. It’s a comforting gesture, but doesn’t quite do it. Peter is digging crescents into the palm of his hand from the worry and irritation that’s kindling in his gut.

“I don’t know, Nat. I’m sure Stark is used to doling out hush money. You got a fund for it, Tony?”

Peter’s jaw tightens at the flagrant disrespect shown to Tony in his own home. Tony hadn't given Peter any information on the meeting that would hold him up from their lab time together, but it begs the question- Has Tony done this on purpose? Either the billionaire had not anticipated the location of the meeting to be in his own living room, or Tony had willfully chosen the spot knowing that as soon as Peter inevitably showed up he would be able to excuse himself. Definitely the latter, he thinks. 

“Sam,” Steve says warningly, head tilted to the side towards his friend. Peter opens his mouth to speak but Rhodey cuts in. 

“Maybe,” he begins slowly, “this isn’t the time to have this discussion.” The man's voice is tight yet still manages to sound diplomatic. Steve, however, has turned back to Tony.

“I can’t- Tony, I can’t believe you’ve kept this from us. We’ve all said and done things that we regret, but I thought- I thought prior to this whole mess we were really close. I can’t believe you hadn’t trusted me with this.” Steve Rogers has the audacity to look hurt and Peter doesn’t even try to mask his derision as he scoffs, eyes rolling so hard in the wake of the Star Spangled Traitors attempts to turn the tables on Tony that it hurts. Everyone’s eyes are now on him, the warning in Tony’s tone as he says Peter’s name under his breath goes unnoticed.

“You have got to be kidding me. You’re going to sit there looking like a kicked puppy and what- We’re supposed to pretend that the lot of you aren’t traitors who deserve very little sympathy? Spider-Man wasn’t Mr. Stark’s secret to tell. It was mine. Mr. Stark has gone out of his way to protect me, just like, I imagine, he tried to protect all of you. I can’t believe you’re trying to turn this around on him as if he owes you shit when spoiler alert- He doesn’t. In fact, the way I hear it, you all owe him for saving your asses from a life on the run.”

Peter raises his hands in a defensive way, “But hey, that’s none of my business.”

The kid has clearly worked himself up, his expression hard as his eyes cut between the three of them. He misses the way Tony sighs, eyes turned to the heavens as if some sort of divine intervention can rescue him from the situation he’s found himself in. Peter misses the way Rhodey closes his eyes and mutters his name under his breath in exasperation. Sam’s voice echoes through the living area before anyone else can speak.

“Wait- What? The kid is Spider-Man? Are we being punked?” He glances around at the others, arms dropping to his side. “Nat, tell me we’re being punked.” But Natasha isn’t paying attention to him, eyes glued to the teenage boy who is nearly pressed against Tony Stark’s side. Her neutral expression momentarily slips as her mouth opens slightly in surprise.

Peter’s blood runs cold and his eyes widen almost comically. His turns to Tony who is looking at him now with something between pride and resignation. Peter’s mouth opens and closes, unsure really of what to say.

“You weren’t- They weren’t talking about me being Spider-Man?”

“No Pete, they thought you were my kid,” he says tiredly. “You and I need to have a little discussion on the art of subterfuge and the importance of never showing your hand to the enemy, even when you think they’ve already figured it out. Big no-no, Underoos.”

“We’re not the enemy,” Steve cuts in, eyes bouncing between Tony and the kid.

Peter snorts, attention focusing once again on the Captain. “Sure you aren’t.”

Steve looks offended and Tony brings a hand up to cover his amused grin. It quickly falls though when Steve looks at him seriously. 

"Tony," he begins, ignoring the way Tony sighs in resignation, "he's just a kid. You recruited a kid." 

Ah shit, Tony thinks. Here we go.

Chapter Text

“Actually,” Tony turns away from Steve and over to Peter. “On second thought, I think now is the perfect time to circle back around to the illicit snack stash. Explain yourself, Parker.” 

Peter’s eyes flicker between his mentor, who is giving him his undivided attention, and the Captain, who has his eyes narrowed and trained on the back of Tony’s head. Sam is watching them with thinly veiled amusement and Natasha, stone facade slipping, watches them with brows furrowed together as though trying to solve some puzzle. Peter can’t decide if he wants to defend his age being irrelevant or defend his incredibly sick loot. In the end his eyes settle on Tony. 

“Well, I mean. You know what the fridge is stocked with and I can’t live off that, Mr. Stark. Nobody can live off that. It’s carrots and peas- It’s rabbit food. I’m a growing boy - man - I am a growing man and a man has to eat and you know with my enhanced metabolism I have to squeeze in a lot of calories and so, uh. This was going somewhere, I promise.” The words tumble out in a rush, as if saying them faster will?? Give them more credibility? Yeah, sure. Sounds right. 

“Yeah, kid, treacherous waters is where it’s headed. Rogers over there has a super metabolism too but I’m sure he’s never made himself a skittle omelet for breakfast.” 

“God,” Rhodey says under his breath. “Peter have you done that?” Peter gives him an unimpressed look because it wasn’t a skittle omelet it was a skittle pancake - there is definitely a difference, thank you very much -  and Mr. Stark refuses to let it go. 

“Kid, it’s nine in the morning, why are you baking desserts?” Tony walks into the kitchen wearing an old tee and his Spider Man pajama pants because Tony Stark, Peter is convinced, experiences no greater joy in this world than when he’s embarrassing Peter Parker. He still not-so-fondly recalls when he walked into Tony’s lab after class to find the man waiting for him, arms crossed and lips twisted into a devious smirk while the muffled sound of Peter singing a classic - Barbie Girl - while in the shower plays over FRIDAY’s system. 

Well things were about to get more embarrassing and Peter can’t help but to freeze, back to Tony, as he settles the pan back onto the stove. “Shouldn’t you still be asleep? Or, I dunno, just now going to bed?”

When he’s met with silence, Peter finally - hesitantly - turns around. Tony is walking along the counter, curiously eyeing the food that was sprawled out across it: pancake mix, a carton of milk, chocolate chips, blueberries, skittles. Peter holds his breath. Maybe the man won’t say anything?

“Please tell me you’re just snacking on skittles while you’re cooking.”

“I am definitely just snacking on skittles while I’m cooking. Obviously.” He laughs nervously- A laugh Tony Stark is very familiar with and which has the man in question spinning around to look at him suspiciously. Peter won’t make eye contact. Another piece of damning evidence. 

“Do not tell me you’ve dropped skittles into those pancakes.” He’s giving Peter a look that says he definitely knows that Peter is dropping skittles into his pancakes. Nevertheless, Peter purses his lips, scrunching his eyes and nose together, trying to think of something to say but ultimately drawing a blank. 

In the end he settles with a petulant, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Tony snorts. “Yeah, kiddo, you’re going to have to explain this one to a higher power… Other than me, of course.”

“Well,” Peter begins, dragging the word out to buy him time, “maybe he’s just not as creative as I am.” Sam snorts and Peter’s eyes flicker up to him. 

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Peter’s gaze flicks back down to Tony. He’s starting to feel a little overwhelmed. There are a lot of people around him and he can feel the tension. It’s got the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge. His nails still dig into the palm of his hands. 

“Tony-” Steve tries to cut in, only for Peter to speak over him. 

“You’re only salty because I didn’t tell you about it!” He watches Natasha lean down and though her head is turned the other way, Peter can hear her whisper, “I think we should go.”  

“How long?” Peter pulls his eyes away from Natasha, glances at Rhodey who still looks so Done with everything around him, before finally settling once again on Tony. 

“Uh, I don’t-”

Steve tries to cut in again, but Tony doesn’t pay him any mind.

“How long ?”

“Only three weeks,” Peter says in a rush. “Maybe four?” Tony’s eyes narrow and he tilts his head to the side, lips pressed together. The kid deflates. “Six weeks.” 

“Judas,” Tony’s expression is one of mock betrayal and Peter rolls his eyes. 

“Tony-” Steve says, louder this time and with more authority. Both Tony and Peter startle. 

“Christ, okay Steve. What? Yes, he’s a kid.” 

“I’m not though. I’m sixteen.” Peter bristles. 

“I think the snack attack we witnessed earlier is proof in point that you are, in fact, a child,” Sam says. He uncrosses his arms, stance a bit more open, and places them on his hips.

“Hey!” he and Tony say in unison, both defensive. Peter because he’s not a kid and Tony because that’s his kid Sam is roasting.

“How many times do I have- A growing boy, man, has to eat” Peter throws his arms up in exasperation. “It’s not my fault that you don’t possess the superior taste buds that I have come to cultivate.” 

“That’s not-” Steve shakes his head. “Tony, you brought a kid with you to Germany… To fight us?”

“I’m sixteen,” Peter argues again. Rhodey sighs in frustration off to the left but elects to stay out of it for the time being. 

“See, you keep saying that,” Tony begins, “but I really don’t think it’s helping you make the case that you think you’re making.” 

“But it is, Mr. Stark. What’s the difference between sixteen and eighteen? In two years I can volunteer to be shipped off to die for my country. Hell, the government can ship me off without my permission.” Before anyone can get a word in edgewise he continues, turning on Steve. “And it’s kind of rich, don’t you think, that you would have a problem with this when you weren’t eligible for the draft but thought fighting for your country was worth committing a felony slash fraud over? You’re telling me that sixteen year old Steve Rogers wouldn’t have tried to enlist under the same circumstances as eighteen?”

Sam whistles low under his breath, wide eyes trained on the carpet as he tilts his head before adding just as quietly, “For a kid who failed his history exam…”

“And now,” Peter chooses not to acknowledge Sam’s remark, “you’ve turned around and committed treason. So excuse me, Captain America, if I don’t exactly abide by your moral code.” The room is silent. Steve doesn’t speak, but there’s something behind his eyes. Admiration? Determination?

“Peter, we’re trying to make peace here,” Rhodey says to him softly. “You need to calm down.” 

“No, Colonel, it’s okay.” Steve dips his head, eyes never leaving Peter. “Let the kid - man - speak.” 

Rhodey’s words still in his head has him turning to Tony for guidance, permission. Tony casually shrugs a shoulder, eyes flickering to Rhodey as if he’s asking Rhodey for guidance on this one. Peter is still looking at Tony when he begins speaking. “I think your actions really say it all though, Captain, don’t you?”

“No, Peter. I don’t. I think that whatever they’re propagating on the news, whatever you’re hearing in class- I don’t think they’re sweeping the broad scope of the situation. I think that it’s easy for everyone outside looking in to make a judgement call. To see all of the destruction in our wake and failing to see the alternative.”

“Collateral damage,” Peter says softly. His thoughts turn to Ben and the night he was killed. If the police had let the man go, if he hadn’t been chased and Ben hadn’t of been in the wrong place at the wrong time, would he have been shot? 

“Collateral damage.” Steve confirms. Peter is chewing at his lower lip, the action noticed by everybody. “Don’t you have people in your life you’d move heaven and earth for?”

Peter swallows, throat tightening as the image of May crosses his mind. He’s oblivious to the way his eyes momentarily flick down to his mentor. Of course. They all have people they would move Heaven and Earth for. Peter’s thoughts swirl, bouncing the merits for and against Steve’s words. In the end, they come back to the one thought Steve’s words don’t touch. 

“I wouldn’t turn my back on and fight my family in the process.” He digs his feet in a little deeper beneath Tony’s thighs, as if grounding himself before meeting Steve’s eyes and adding, “But I would fight a childhood hero for them.” 

His tone is resolute and nobody makes a sound. 

“Peter, do you like being Spider Man? Do you like keeping your personal life and Spider Man separate? You do realize that the Accords would mean having to unmask yourself and register with the government. You would be forced to reveal yourself or otherwise make yourself a criminal.” His voice is calm, patient. And while Peter doesn’t feel patronized, he feels like he’s been left on the wrong foot.

“And treason was the way to go? You turned your back on your whole country for one man. I get it- Loyalty runs deeper than borders and politics, but Mr. Stark has nearly dismantled the Accords over the course of maybe a year. He wasn't asking for your surrender he was asking for your trust. It’s almost as if violence isn’t the only way to incite change.” 

“I did what I thought was best at the time with the information I had.” Peter hasn’t looked away from Steve but he thinks absently about the fact that nobody has cut in. That two of his mentors are letting him have it out with Captain America. Peter feels respected, valued. It makes him bold… Which for a sixteen year old boy isn’t always a good thing. 

“Yeah? Throw a dart at a list of historical dictators and tell me they didn’t feel the same way.”

Whoop, there it is. 

“Okay,” Rhodey finally cuts in, raising himself to his feet. Sam and Natasha both are on their feet now, but Steve remains seated, eyes still trained on Peter, the corners of his mouth twitching. He likes the kid.

“And,” Tony drags the words out, speaking in tandem with Rhodey, “end scene. Go on kiddo, exit stage left pursued by bear. We’ll talk later.” Peter is wide eyed, surprised by his own words and glancing between the two. Tony finally stands, pulling Peter off the couch and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Kid’s a spitfire. Don’t know where he picked that up.”

Peter lets himself be guided out of the room and into the hallway. It may be possible that he had gone too far, but he can’t bring himself to care at the present. He’s still bristling, his skin feels oversensitive and Tony’s arm around him almost hurts. They’re all the way to the room he’s got at the tower before he finally speaks. 

“He makes me nervous, Mr. Stark. I don’t trust him.” His face in scrunched up, pained almost.

“I don’t either kiddo, but I have to try. It’s- It’s complicated. I’m trying to do the right thing here. For all of us. And sometimes the right thing isn’t easy and it isn’t what we want to do right up front. Time heals and all that jazz.” Tony sighs, shoulders falling a fraction of an inch. “I’m giving this a chance- I’m seeing where it goes. It’s not going to be pretty, not at first, but I want to see if we can all heal as a team.”

“But Mr. Stark-”

“Peter, listen to me. I can’t un-take you to Germany and I can’t erase the fight you had with Sam and the Manchurian Candidate, but for me I need you to give them a chance.”

“I don’t know,” he says hesitantly, eyeing the floor. Something definitely happened after that battle. 

“For me Pete, just trust me on this one. I need this to work out.” When Peter nods he grins. “Thank’s kid.”

“The things I do for you,” Peter says dramatically. Tony rolls his eyes. 

“Keep that in mind later this week when they start moving in downstairs okaybye!” He gives Peter a gentle push into his bedroom and closes the door before Peter can even react. 

---

“And then,” Peter says loudly, jumping up onto his bed, “he tells me they're moving in next week. Can you believe it?” He's watching Ned shove popcorn in his mouth via the small corner of the screen in his Spider mask. 

“I mean, it kind of makes sense, doesn't it? Mr. Stark and the others were all really close.”

“But Steve betrayed him.”

“I know, Peter. But don't you think that this is something you should just let them deal with?”

“No. I think I should be part of it.” He sounds petulant as he steps off the bed so that his butt hits the mattress before he falls back in defeat. “After all, don't they know I'm the most important Avenger?” 

Ned nearly spits his drink out and Peter grins. “So important you've been put in time out.” Peter splutters. 

“This isn't time out! I'm exactly where I want to be.”

“Ah yes,” Ned says wisely. “The sidelines.”

“Hey!” Peter shoots to his feet and crosses over to the door. “Let’s listen in.” 

“How about we don’t ?” 

-- 

They do. Karen manages to bypass Tony’s Baby Proofing Protocol, which is effectively Tony playing music or general white noise in whatever room Tony is having a private conversation. Which typically Peter appreciates, but also - Rude. And just as Ned warned, Peter’s busted within minutes. They get so far as: 

“Listen, I’ve got a kid I’ve promised lab time with. We’re redesigning a suit for someone with no appreciation for creative liberties-”

“It looks like Winnie the Pooh, Tony.” 

“So can we wrap this up, Cap?”  

“Boss- Karen is disrupting my frequencies.”

“Can you believe this kid?” 

"I don't know what to tell you other than it's nice to see you trying to put up with the same shit I put up with from you for years. You’re basically helping May raise yourself." 

Ned, the traitor, starts rolling with laughter. “You’re so fucked, my dude. I tried to warn you." 

“Shut her down, FRI.”

And boy does she. FRIDAY doesn’t just shut down the audio, but the entire mask all together. Ned is still roasting him when the video feed cuts off. 

---

It’s another few minutes before he hears, "Alright kid, get right with Christ and come out of your spidey-hole to face the music."

Peter turns the corner into the kitchen hesitantly and Tony stares him down. He really isn't sure where to start.

"Twinkies, Peter? You had Twinkies and didn't tell me?" Tony looks so dramatically pained. "Betrayed by my own not-flesh and blood."

A grin breaks out on Peter's face, having been convinced he would receive a lecture about his argument with Steve.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I thought FRIDAY told you."

"And now he lies to me!" Tony grabs a broom out of the pantry and begins sweeping up the M&M’s as Peter hops up onto the counter to continue eating the monstrosity he spent so much time working on. Peter giggles, and when Tony mock giggles back Peter full on laughs.

"Come on, Mr. Stark. There's a reason Pepper hides those things. It's for your health." Neither one of them comment on the irony of him calling Pepper by name but still calling Tony Mr. Stark.

"If you really cared about my health you wouldn't be free falling backwards off of buildings in your spare time. That's gonna stop my heart before Ho Hos will."

Peter splutters, eyes wide, "It was one time!"

"FRIDAY..."

"There are 37 unique videos on YouTube of Mr. Parker free falling from buildings until he nearly hits the ground."

Peter turns so red it nearly matches his shirt. "I..."

"Have no excuse. But we'll talk about that later. I want to hear the excuse for the failed history exam. Peter we talked about this. You said you were ready for it."

Peter groans and drops his head into his hands. Tony has moved onto picking trash up off the counter. Cleaning. Something that definitely was not a thing before Peter began spending so much time at the Tower. It’s funny- Previously it had been Peter rushing around, cleaning up after both himself and Tony despite Tony’s protests. It’s nice seeing Peter comfortable and relaxed enough to let Tony clean up after him for a change. 

"I know. I really thought I had it."

"What happened, kid? Aliens bust into the school and interrupt your test? Think I would have heard about that.”

"Mr. Stark," Peter whines, pained. Tony relents, crossing his arms over his chest for a minute and leaning his hip against the counter beside Peter.

"Come on, Pete. What happened? I know history isn't your strongest class, but this isn't like you."

"I don't know. I mean- I studied, Mr. Stark. For hours. Karen even helped me." Tony raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah? Did she help you study while you were on patrols?"

Peter's mouth opens and closes as he realizes how deep a hole he's buried himself in. "No?" he tries.

Tony looks to the sky for the umpteenth time since Peter had walked in that afternoon. "Peter, we talked about this too. If you can't keep your grades up then Spider Man has to take a break. May will kill us both if your grades slip. And if May kills us then Pepper will bring me back to life so that she can kill me again. Quite frankly, I'm a little scared of Aunt Hottie."

"No you're not," Peter mutters, but he's grinning.

"Am a little. What's your final over?"

Peter groans. "World War Two." Tony's eyebrows bunch together, expression of confusion.

"You're at the end of the semester and you're just now covering World War Two." That’s another thing- Tony can’t believe how domestic he’s becoming. Peter barely takes a moment to consider how closely Tony takes note and keeps track of these things anymore. 

"Yeah," he sighs mournfully. "Next semester I take Modern slash Contemporary American History."

Tony nods his head. "Well that one I can help you with." It's quiet for a moment. A companionable silence. "Ya know kid, as much as I hate to say it-"

"I will fail this class and live on the streets before I ask Captain America for help. I will die on this hill."

Tony can't help the bubble of laughter that escapes him and tries not to laugh harder at Peter's reaction to his outburst.

"Christ, you're so dramatic, kid."

"Probably your influence," Peter says under his breath, a stage whisper Tony definitely catches. Tony shoves him and Peter laughs.

"I've never once in my entire life been dramatic and I will never forgive you for this slight against myself and my character." He flicks Peter's shoulder and Peter covers his arm with his hand like it hurts while making a shocked wounded face.

"That will never heal now. It’s going to scar." Tony snorts.

"Listen kid, what I was going to say before I was so very rudely interrupted-"

"Also your influence, Sir." FRIDAY cuts in and Tony pauses mid sentence.

"Is it Everyone Gang Up on Tony day? Have I missed something?"

Peter giggles, hand on Tony's arm. "No no, go ahead Mr. Stark. We're listening."

Tony's eyes narrow suspiciously. "As I was saying," he pauses as if waiting for another interruption. "Rhodey is great with history. He took like three World War Two classes because military science or some shit. Listening to him talk about it though- It’s either a killer snooze fest or you’re stuck watching him go on and on like a kid with a soda.” He pauses, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Actually, a lot like you all the time, so I’m sure it would work out.”

"So mean to me," Peter hangs his head, pouting.

"I know. You should probably just leave." Peter looks so offended as he whines Tony's name. The man laughs and pulls him off the counter by the front of his MIT hoodie that he definitely stole from Tony and pulls him into an embrace that Peter happily returns.

"Alright, kiddo. Study time."

"Wha- No! Mr. Stark, the suit!"

"Lab time is for kids who don't-"

"Fail, I know." Peter finishes miserably but Tony keeps talking.

"-keep snack stashes a secret from their mentors but yours is probably the more responsible of the two."

"It wasn't a secret." Tony scoffs but Peter continues. "You just forgot. You know, with your age-"

"Peter Parker I swear to God if you finish that sentence-"

"There are more important things to worry about," Peter pointedly finishes, a not so smooth recovery. He's beaming as he leans into Tony as Tony guides them towards the hallway to Peter's room.

"I think I'm a bad influence on you."

"You love me."

"Mm, only on Thursdays."

"Lucky for me it's a Thursday."

"Lucky indeed, Spiderling."