Work Text:
"So why does your breathtaking aunt act like she wants to throttle me?" asks Mr. Stark while they're working together, elbow deep in a holographic representation of a new web-shooter. Peter has nowhere to run to.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Come on, Pete. The May hostilities last all year round at your house."
"She doesn't hate you, she's just... it's complicated," Peter answers finally. Or rather avoids answering.
"Explain it in small words and I'll try my best to grasp the issue."
Peter bites his lip, trying to work out how much it's safe to reveal.
"A really, really long time ago, when I was very young..."
"So, last year?"
Peter gives Mr. Stark an offended look. It's bad enough to have to discuss this, it's beyond unfair that Mr. Stark keeps making jabs at Peter's age even before Peter gets going.
"No, nine years ago. My uncle brought me to Stark Expo for my birthday, and I kind of met you there. If getting an autograph and a head pat counts. And afterwards Mr. Hammer's armors went on the fritz, I got lost, and you saved my life," Peter says simply.
Mr. Stark drops the schematic of the web fluid storage chamber he's been calibrating and sits up, face suddenly all serious.
"That went places fast."
Peter shrugs.
"I was wearing a plastic Iron Man helmet and repulsors. One of the Hammers decided I was the real deal and was about to blast me when you showed up. You even pretended like I had defeated it. It was..." The coolest thing that had happened in young Peter's life, and still in the top 10 to date. Which really means something, given what an alien-infested, space-adventuring life Peter is leading these days.
Mr. Stark doesn't say anything, and Peter gets the feeling it's because he doesn't remember Peter and is too kind to say so.
"It was one of the best things I've ever done," Mr. Stark says finally, and then quickly continues, probably in case Peter gets teary-eyed and starts thanking him. Mr. Stark has issues with intimacy and taking credit, Peter has realized, and Peter is being very patient and accommodating about it. He'll wait for that hug as long as he has to. "So, does your Agony Aunt consider it my fault? Is that why she's so stingy with the date loaves now that she figured out she doesn’t need to butter me up on your behalf?"
"No, of course she doesn't blame you for that!" Peter protests indignantly. It would be really convenient to use this as an excuse, but Mr. Stark shouldn't think Aunt May's so ungrateful, or worse - imagine that he really was somehow responsible for Peter getting attacked. "It's just that afterwards I got a little overexcited about you. No, um, about Iron Man, I mean. I became a big fan."
"Imagine that."
"I guess they were spoiling me a little because of my parents... I had Iron Man wallpaper and Iron Man pajamas and all the Iron Man Young Engineer building sets. A few- A couple of Iron Man toys. Not a lot. Definitely not the Iron Man undies." Oh, God, why did he say that, why?! He absolutely wasn't going to mention the undies. He chances a look at Mr. Stark and sees Mr. Stark's beard twitching. This is a disaster.
Peter forges on hoping he'll bury the embarrassing moment in words.
"So one day when I was like eight, the neighbor's toddler was having breakfast with us. I'd just opened my Lucky Charms with the Avengers toys series in them, and I was keeping my fingers crossed it had the Iron Man figurine in it, and while I was rooting through the box, my aunt said I should let Sean have the toy since he was smaller. And the moment she said that, my fingers closed around Iron Man's helmet. I could tell it was him just by touch."
Mr. Stark rests his elbows on the console, the design project completely forgotten, the blue light of the gently rotating hologram giving his crinkling eyes a mischievous look as he says, "Don't tell me you arm-wrestled the toddler for my toy, Parker?"
For a few seconds Peter feels completely mesmerized, pinned in place by the breathtaking sight that is Mr. Stark. He feels his cheeks heating up for more than one reason.
"It's worse. While May's back was turned, I slammed the figurine into my mouth. I meant to tuck it into my cheek and pretend there was no prize, but I kind of... swallowed it. It went down sideways and got stuck in my throat and May had to bring me to the ER. They pulled it out with tweezers." Too embarrassed to look at Mr. Stark now, Peter screws up his eyes and comes out with the rest. "The doctor said it happened all the time, that they'd had another two Iron Mans and a Thor that week alone, but that didn't placate May. She's been weird about you ever since then."
There's silence, more silence and finally Peter can't take it and checks out Mr. Stark's reaction.
It's surprisingly subdued. Mr. Stark is smirking, but he's also already resumed tweaking their project.
"That's one mystery fewer," is all he says.
Peter relaxes by degree. He can't believe he's off the hook. He didn't even have to lie, May really was steamed for a long time over that trip to the ER. These days though, her dislike of Mr. Stark is occasioned more by Peter's enormous, egregious and apparently eternal crush on the man. Even the obvious fact that Mr. Stark has no answering interest in Peter whatsoever doesn't mollify May.
Peter even managed to navigate around these particular treacherous underwater rocks without showing his hand and unnecessarily humiliating himself. Though some humiliation clearly goes with the topic.
So when Mr. Stark casually, without even looking up, asks one final question "what happened to the toy in the end?"
Peter's so relieved his mouth just goes on autopilot:
"I still have it actually! It's glued to a shelf in my room. My friend MJ says I should build a shrine to it since it's a memento of the only time I'm ever gonna have Iron Man in me..."
!!!
Oh, fuck.