Work Text:
day 1: road work ahead/parades/identity porn
identity porn
Let’s get one thing straight: Peter Parker never swore.
Ever since he was a kid, there had been a little orange stained wooden box on the kitchen counter in May’s apartment. It had a thin slot in the top that Ben had carved with a kitchen knife and it was decorated with crayon scribbles and spare buttons from May’s (never used) button collection. A post-it note Peter had stuck on the front when he was seven marked it the “Swere Jar Box”.
Peter had lost many a dollar to the swear box in his time. One unfortunate incident involving him stubbing his toe on the couch leg, and thus letting out a horrendously creative string of profanity, resulted in him not having enough money to see The Force Awakens on opening night with Ned. On that day, Peter had vowed to never let a foul word slip off his tongue for the rest of his life.
But, in this cruel and desolate world, sometimes drastic times called for drastic measures.
“Mr Stark,”
“Hm.”
Peter smacked a tattered, soaking copy of the Daily Bugle down on the lab table in front of Tony.
“What the fuck is this?”
Tony didn’t spare the paper a glance as he moved it to his left and continued picking at the inside of the Iron Man faceplate.
“Newspaper. Wet newspaper.” He said. “Why’s it wet?”
Peter huffed and crossed his arms. Tony didn’t even look at it. He didn’t even care that Peter had just wasted a whole entire dollar on him.
“It’s wet because I’m wet. Read it, asshole,” Peter said. He was two bucks poorer now, but even that couldn’t curb his rage.
Tony looked up at him incredulously. “Are you swearing at me to get my attention?”
“It’s working, isn’t it?”
Tony huffed and grabbed the paper off the table. In big bold writing, spread across the top of the page, the headline read:
Spider-Man’s Secret Identity Revealed?
Leaked Photos from Tony Stark’s lab show that the Spider-Man is a Child!
Well, that wasn’t ideal.
Under the ridiculous headline (on the front page, might he add) were two blurry pictures taken through the window of Tony’s lab by drone. The first picture was Tony standing next to what seemed to be the spider suit, but the second one-
“That’s not you,” Tony muttered under his breath. The picture showed a kid about the same height and build as Peter, but with curly blonde hair and tanner, freckled skin.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock, who is he?” Peter asked. Three whole dollars gone down the drain.
“Okay, first of all? Watch your potty mouth. I know you don’t have three dollars to put in your swear box, and I’m not about to cover that for you if it’s me you’re getting mouthy with. And how is this my fault?” Tony scoffed, setting his faceplate aside to give his full attention to Peter- a rare, but welcomed occurrence.
Peter’s straight face morphed into a cutting glare. “How is it your fault? That’s not me in the suit! I didn’t put that other kid in the suit, it’s my suit. Plus now, whoever he is, he’s in danger from everyone I've ever locked up!” He took a deep breath, “Tell me how this is my faut Mr Stark because I don’t see it.”
“Last week. You said you couldn’t come over on the weekend to fit the new suit, so you gave me your measurements and told me to put it on something else. Not my fault I had a spare kid lying around with similar measurements to yours. What did you want me to do?” Tony asked nonchalantly, as though he couldn’t see Peter falling apart in front of his eyes.
“A mannequin, Mr Stark. Or a trash bag stuffed with paper, or a CPR dummy. Or literally anything other than an actual real person,” Peter whined. “Where did you even find him?”
Tony sighed. If it were up to him, he never would have let Peter find out about this. Lord knows how possessive he was of his suit, not to mention how he’d feel knowing someone else had had access to Karen.
“His name is Harley, and I’ve known him since he was... somewhere between the ages of eight and twelve, I can’t tell the difference. He’s upstairs.” Tony looked up in thought, considering the consequences of his next question. “Wanna meet him?”
Peter sputtered for a second, before nodding his assent with confused eyes.
Tony hoped he wouldn’t regret it. Both of his boys were such a huge part of his life, and he didn’t know if his heart could handle them not getting along. Although, there was no real reason for them not to. They were so alike, around the same age, had similar interests and life experiences. In a perfect world, they would have been introduced at a gala, or movie night, or some kind of happy occasion where Harley wasn’t half asleep and Peter wasn’t soaked to his socks, but for now, this would have to do.
*
Although Tony had brought the boys into the lab together, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. They were staring each other down so intensely, that if Tony didn’t know better he’d think they were checking each other out. Neither of them were exactly at their best- Peter looked like a wet dog with water still running down his face and arms, and his dirty grease-stained sweatpants were a darker red in patches where the rain had caught him. Harley had forgotten to bring any clothes other than work gear on his visit from Tennessee, and was forced to wear the spare Hello Kitty pajama pants Tony had bought for Peter as a joke.
“Spider-Man? Meet Spider-Man!” Tony joked.
“Not funny,” Peter muttered under his breath, and Harley stared him in the eyes.
“Nice to meet you too, sunshine.”
“Those are my pants.” Peter met his heated gaze.
Harley studied Peter carefully, considering his options. When Tony had mentioned his other mentee, Harley had just been jealous. But standing in front of him now, he could feel that tension slipping away. The boy he was looking at was cute, and Spider-Man was known for being kind and caring. He was a catch, and Harley figured it wouldn’t hurt to shoot his shot.
“I can take them off if you want.”
Peter smirked. Of course he was mad at Tony for letting someone else wear his suit, but Harley seemed nice enough. He was pretty, and he had a southern accent that made Peter’s insides melt. Add his snarky sense of humor to the list of things Peter liked about him, and he might as well have been Peter’s dream guy already.
“At least buy me dinner first,” he said, savouring the horrified look on Tony’s face.
Harley smiled, stepping forward and taking Peter’s right hand in his, before kissing it like the gentleman he was. He was clearly laying it on thick for Tony, but Peter still blushed and looked away. He caught Tony’s eye for a split second, and the pink of his cheeks darkened.
“At eight tomorrow okay?” Harley asked, and Peter nodded happily.
Tony was- well, shocked or surprised didn’t exactly fit the bill. Other than desperately holding back from forcing Harley to put a shirt on, he was kind of happy. They weren’t fighting, and nothing had been blown up. All the stress he had had, the excuses he had made to stop his two protégées meeting, had been for nothing. All was well.
Until the news vans started piling around the tower. Cameras flashed, and reporters screamed for the chance at one of the biggest headlines of the year. And in the middle of it all, like a god rising from the abyss, stood J. Jonah Jameson in all his hellish glory, with his stupid ugly mustache on his stupid pancake face. Tony would deal with him later. For now, he had two lovebirds to control before they blew up his lab or tried to take over the world.