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“Have I, or have I not, got the smartest kid on the whole darn planet?” Tony boasted, forceful passion and pride both evident in his tone of voice. “There’s only one right answer to this,” he added, slinging an arm around his adopted son’s shoulders from where they were currently lounging on the sofa and ducking his head to smile, adoringly, at the boy, whose cheeks immediately blushed tomato red when all eyes were on him.
“Dad…” Peter whined, softly, shyly burying his face in the crook of the older man’s neck to hid his flushed face from the onlooker, even if it was only Rhodey, but he had certainly become more restrained and reserved since moving in with Tony as he adjusted to the new life they had formed together. He could feel the vibration of a warm chuckle against his chest from his father’s sturdier one and the stretch of the man’s jaw against the top of his head as Tony smiled.
“He’s secretly loving this, mark my words,” the billionaire remarked, fondly, hugging his kid close even as the teen was visibly uncomfortable by the praise if the tense joints in his shoulders and stiff body were anything to go by.
“Lay off him, Tones,” Rhodey laughed, shaking his head at his best friend’s not so subtle devotion to his son and this new, soft side to the genius was incredibly endearing and downright adorable according to the Colonel. “Peter’s probably going to have enough gushing coming from you when I’m not here, so tone it down a bit.”
Tony grinned. “You still didn’t give me your answer, Platypus,” he retorted. "Pete’s going to be devastated if his favourite uncle can’t even admit that his equally favourite nephew is a fucking genius!”
Rhodey tipped his head and eyed him with a playfully stern look that one would give a child when they are caught swearing. “Do you want your kid to have a potty mouth? I’m sure Cap won’t appreciate it.”
“Pete and I have a mutual agreement, don’t we, pal?” Tony replied, brightly, looking down at half of his son’s face from where it was still buried in his neck and raising an eyebrow at his friend. “He can forgive the occasional slip up and I don’t give a shit about what Cap thinks, this little Spider-Baby is my kid and no-body elses.”
“You’re right about that at least,” Rhodey spoke, softly, observing the pair with a touched expression.
Tony smiled when he picked up on the man’s attuned emotions, the corner of his own lips trembling with the weight of his overwhelming feelings of pure unconditional love and pride for the boy in his arms and he dipped his head to attempt to coax his kid from his hiding place. “You gonna come out now, buddy?” He asked, quietly, bumping his fore-head against his son’s playfully. “Lemme see that dashing smile,” he teased, lightly tickling across the teen’s belly with his free hand and calling it a success when he felt a short puff of hot air against his neck as the boy snorted at the remark, before finally pulling back. His curls were slightly askew from the reclined position and a firm pout was in place on his young face from the frequent teasing, but Tony was too amused by the adorable expression on his son’s face and he reached forward to smooth Peter’s unruly hair down, tucking a disobedient lock behind a small ear. “Alright, done now, I promise,” Tony mused, bopping his kid on the nose and winking at him, a small tug at the corner of the boy’s lips rewarding him for his claim.
“I hate you,” the kid stated, dryly, the incessant sparkle of humour in his dark chocolate brown eyes and twitching of his lips as he fought back a smile proving otherwise.
Tony grinned, a small chortle escaping him as he beamed at the teen and turned wide eyes on Rhodey, who was covering his mouth in an effort to contain his amusement, but his shoulders were quaking slightly in silent laugher at the endearing interaction between his best friend and the kid that had somehow wormed his way into his heart. “Kid’s got my infectious charm of course,” Tony asserted, resulting in a half-hearted shove to his upper arm as the teen reached the height of his embarrassment, the rosy hue to both cheeks unwavering.
“Quit making fun of me!” Peter objected, heatedly, glaring daggers at the man and once more ducking his head, mortified by his father’s mockery.
“Tony, for God’s sake, your kid has spoken!” Rhodey piped up, belly laughing at the comedy show he was currently getting front row seat at and he was clearly loving every minute of it.
“Alright, alright,” Tony chuckled, warmly, holding his hands up in the air in the universal gesture of ‘I surrender!’ “I’m officially done with the theatrics, but I’m entitled to show you off every once in a while, pal,” he directed at his glowering kid, tapping underneath his chin to encourage him to make eye contact again. “It’s not every day your kid gets four straight As in his finals, y’know? I’m just so damn proud of you, Pete,” he spoke, earnestly, dark eyes gazing intently into his son’s as any snark or sarcasm dissolved from his tone in an instant.
“Yeah, I know…” Peter spoke, tone hushed as the small smile returned to his face, and he rubbed his eyes with a closed fist as a purely nervous habit, aware of Rhodey’s eyes on him and the action didn’t fail to go unnoticed by his father, who smiled in understanding now and brought the boy in close to press an tender kiss to his fore-head.
“I’ll keep the praise to a minimum whilst we’re out, alright little spider?” Tony murmured against his hairline, using the affectionate nickname that the teen loved so much and erasing any bad thoughts he might have just had about the man; instantly filling him with that warm, safe feeling that only his Dad could give him.
“Yeah, sounds good,” Peter agreed, meakly.
“So, where are we going?” Rhodey asked, after giving the two a moment.
“A curry house in the city,” Tony replied. “We’re on the rebound from Thai food, too much of a good thing, right?”
“Happy coming too?”
“Well, he’s driving. Pete invited him. Speaking of, we should probably get going and get that table,” the billionaire said, patting Peter’s shoulder as he rose from the seat, stretching his stiff limbs and wincing when his knees cracked from the sudden movement after sitting for a prolonged amount of time. “Let’s get this show on the road!” He casually slung his arm around Peter’s shoulders, leading them to the driveway outside the Compound where Happy was waiting for them.
…
Peter sat in the back seats of one of his guardian’s sleek, silver Audis, watching the rain trickle across the window in a series of different streams across the glass whilst Happy drove them to their destination. He knew that there would probably be some attention towards him once they arrived as it wasn’t everyday that Tony Stark and his recently adopted son wandered into any old curry house in New York and as much as he was still relatively uncomfortable with being in the limelight, unable to naturally command a crowd like his father did with his natural charm and charisma, it was just one of the links in the chain when it came to being adopted by a celebrity. He fiddled with the cuff of his smart dress shirt, anxiously, as his thoughts tumbled around the infinite possibilities that could occur once they arrived at the restaurant and were placed directly in the public eye, unbuttoning and redoing the clasp with nervous, jittery finger movements.
The teen jumped slightly when a familiar coarse hand was placed on top of his own, the skin warm to the touch and instantly soothing his nerves. “You with me, bud?” Tony asked, softly, glancing down at his with dark chocolate eyes filled with concern and reassurance. He’d seen enough of Peter’s anxiety rearing its ugly head to know what the signs were and, as always, he used the three words that would cement whether any serious action needed to be taken to control his kid’s breathing and calm him down. Moments ago, he had been speaking with Rhodey about meaningless, inconsequential things, but all of that was forgotten as soon as he happened to gesture towards Peter and look in his direction and seeing the boy in an all too familiar state effectively ended whatever point he was about to make, drawing all of his attention on discovering what was wrong with his son.
Peter blinked, owlishly, at him and looked down at where the older man’s hand was gently clasping his, thumb caressing his skin in a soothing motion and a small smile appeared on his face as he drew great comfort from such a simple gesture, but it grounded him and made him feel safe. “Yeah…I’m okay,” Peter responded, quietly, leaning against his father’s side. “Guess I’m just a bit nervous about everyone seeing us…”
Tony smiled in understanding, although he had grown up in the spotlight and was well accustomed to prying eyes, he could still emphasise with Peter’s situation. “Yeah, it sucks,” he agreed wholeheartedly. “But we’ll just get on with what we want to do and pretty soon they’ll see that there’s nothing much to get hyped about. Anyway, you’ve got three of the best protectors in this car, minus our other pals, right?”
Peter giggled and peeked up at him. “Narcissistic much?” He joked. “I reckon Captain America would have something to say against that, or Bruce.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Tony chuckled, wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulders and squeezing him affectionately, whilst simultaneously nudging Rhodey in the ribs. “What do you reckon, Platypus? You, me and Happy-The Three Musketeers against the others?”
Rhodey belly laughed at that, loving the way Peter was turning his best friend into the Tony Stark who cracks Dad jokes every once in a while, and it was incredible to witness for someone who had seen the man at all of his low points, including his head being stuck down a toilet during their MIT years. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that, Tony,” the Colonel cracked, reaching over him to hold his hand out to the teen. “Gotta commend you, man. You’ve successfully converted this whiny sack’o shit into something I never thought I’d see, major kudos to you!”
Peter snickered at this and shook the man’s hand, grin widening when Tony eyed him with a calculating look in his dark eyes and a hint of feigned betrayal. “Traitor,” he quipped, hand sneaking up to playfully mess up the boy’s curls and tweak at his ear, heart blooming when the kid practically squealed as he tickled across the back of his neck.
“Okay okay, I take it back,” Peter giggled, hysterically, squirming in his seat even though he had no where to go and he leaned his head back to try and escape his Dad’s attack. “You’re the best Avenger, alright? Happy now?” He backtracked, hands poised and ready to defend himself if his guardian’s wandering fingers tickled him again, but the man simply smiled, triumphantly, and pulled the teen back against his side, cuddling him close and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Never try to pit my own kid against me, Uncle Rhodey,” Tony directed at the other man with his signature snarky smirk, dark humour swimming in his eyes.
The Colonel scoffed, softly. “There’s really nothing that will come between you two, partners in crime,” he commented with a smile and a shake of his head. He couldn’t be more right as far as the billionaire was concerned.
They drove for about ten more minutes whilst engaging in carefree chit chat, before Happy pulled up in front of their destination and grabbed the black umbrella from the passenger seat to pass back to Tony. “Thanks, Hap. Alright, let’s go,” he said, allowing Peter to unbuckle his seat belt and stretch his leg out the door, shoe squelching in a puddle on the sidewalk. The billionaire quickly followed so he could shelter them both from the rain with his umbrella, wrapping a protective arm around the teen’s shoulders the moment he was out of the car and Peter visible leaned into his secure hold instinctively. Rhodey joined them with his own umbrella and Happy drove off to find a safe parking space after calling out the open door that he would be joining them soon and the trio headed into the restaurant to be shown to their booth.
…
“What you going with, Pete?” Tony asked, glancing over his kid who was scrutinising the menu and trying to not make eye contact with other diners, with some of them sneaking quick looks at Iron Man and his new son. Of course, it wasn’t new for Peter to label himself as such but for the general public and the media, that was an entirely different ball park. They had already had a few children from different tables coming up and asking for an autograph, with some apologetic parents pulling them away to give the family their privacy, something which the trio greatly appreciated.
“Umm, think I might go with this mint chicken curry,” Peter replied, pointing to it for his Dad to see. “Never tried it before, sounds good.”
“Hmm, nice one, kid. Let’s get this ordered then.” Tony called the waitress and ordered their meals with a jug of water and he held up his scotch for a toast. “Peter Benjamin Stark, you’ll be doing great things one day,” he stated, winking at the boy to prove that he had just dodged around heaping tons of praise on him in public and the teen smiled anyway, swallowing the lump in his throat as Tony rarely used his full name and it always filled him up with pure joy to know that he was a Stark now. He knew that he would always be a Parker, and nothing would ever change that part of him which connected him to his biological parents and his aunt and uncle, but this was his reality now and Tony was his father in every sense of the word, so taking on the man’s surname just felt right.
“Cheers to that!” Rhodey announced, raising his own scotch, as well as Happy, and Peter clinked his Coke glass against theirs, smiling bashfully and scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous habit, but he was basking in their pride in him and for what he had achieved. He knew that this toast wasn’t just for his grades in school, but for his heroic acts performed as Spider-Man and it felt incredible to have Iron Man and the War Machine to acknowledge him and compliment him for that. Having the best body guard in the state raising his glass to him was also an added bonus.
It took a little while for their food to come and Peter tried his best to ignore certain onlookers and enjoy the conversation at the table, however when he became too distracted by the odd looks from other customers, he felt the familiar calloused hand slip into his own under the table and give it a light squeeze. He glanced to the side and realised that his father had been closely watching his expression morph into one of discomfort, the man’s dark eyes observing him with a fiercely protective stance whilst also remaining supportive. The corner of Peter’s lips twitched up into a small smile and he squeezed his Dad’s hand back in gratitude, the whole interaction going unnoticed by their accomplices. Father and son were only roused from their musings when their curries arrived, accompanied by a few naan breads and poppadoms and it got their mouths watering just looking at the food, never mind inhaling the delicious aroma of savoury spices and freshly baked bread.
Peter couldn’t wait to dig into his and the others grinned at his appetite as he ripped off a piece of naan and dolloped some curry on, before shoving it into his mouth and relishing in the explosion of flavour and spice across his taste buds. The mint was strong, and it was the first thing he tasted. It only took a few more bites to notice that something was wrong, and he first looked down at his bowl to see if there was anything he had missed when he started eating without a care in the world but there was nothing bizarre for a typical curry as far as he could see. However, the teen didn’t get much of a chance to ponder on that as his eyesight was blurring, the room spinning in circles around him and a sudden weakness overcame his entire body. His stomach seized in agonizing pain as if he was being stabbed by a red-hot poker; mouth tingling with something that wasn’t just as a result of the spice in the curry; lips and tongue swelling uncontrollably with a soreness he had never physically felt before and his skin was becoming so hot that he wouldn’t have been surprised if bright red rashes were rapidly appearing all over his face. On top of all of this, the nausea from his increasing dizziness caused him to roughly swallow around the lump of bile currently forcing its way up his throat and he could only blindly grasp for his father’s wrist, eyes wide and petrified as he struggled to breath through the rapid pounding of his heartbeat and rush of blood pumping through his ears, causing his Spidey senses to go haywire.
“D-D-Dad, D-Dad…” He managed to slur and choke out between swollen lips and gums, tears blurring his vision and burning his eyes, escaping his eyelids to stream down his fevered cheeks. It was enough to alert the older man to his rapidly deteriorating state of health though.
“Shit, fuck…Pete, honey, look at me, look, look at me…” Tony stuttered over his words as he locked eyes with his boy and took in the panic and fear in his kid’s eyes; in that moment, there was no-body else in the room, it was just him and Peter. He cupped the teen’s face with surprisingly steady hands, forcing his voice to remain calm as well as his racing heartbeat as he took in his son’s flushed cheeks, ragged breathing and release of tiny whimpers in between his heaving cries. “Deep breaths, buddy, c’mon…it’s alright, it’s okay, shh, shh…Deep breaths…” He murmured, exaggerating his own breathing and puffing out his chest, before exhaling heavily, whilst gripping the sides of his kid’s face and coaxing him to copy, whilst simultaneously swiping away the waterfall of tears currently streaking his son’s face redder with his thumbs. He could feel Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder and Happy talking like someone had switched a TV on and it was just playing static noise.
Peter, Peter, Peter…
“-ony-“
Fuck, please don’t let him be…
“-ony, I think he’s experiencing an allergic reaction, he needs to go to the hospital.” Rhodey. Happy wasn’t speaking to him anymore, he was talking into a phone and Tony only caught a few words like ‘ambulance’, ‘fifteen years-old’ and ‘immediately’, but the confirmation of his kid’s age rung in his ears like somebody was banging a drum without relent.
My kid is fifteen and he can’t breathe, he’s fucking dying…
No. You’re not going anywhere, baby, you’re staying right here with me…
“-bulance is on its way, Tony-“
He kept on hushing. The kid was clawing at him now, blunt nails digging into his suit jacket and heaving breaths rattling through a weak chest, but he was breathing, he was breathing. “Shhh…” Tony soothed, tone similar to that of one a parent would use on a small child, sweeping fallen chestnut locks from red eyes and delicately handling the boy into his lap. His arms wrapped around him like a safe, warm blanket, cuddling his precious bundle close to his heart where he could feel each puff of warm air from a raspy throat against his chest. Breathing. “D-Dad…” Peter sobbed, tucking his head underneath the elder’s chin and dampening the fabric of the suit with his tears, fingers clutching desperately as if the man tethered his very existence to the world…and he did.
“I’m here, baby, I’ve got you…Dad’s right here, sweet boy…” Tony choked on the large lump in his throat, masking his pain and the tears bathing his face by burying it in his son’s curls and tightening his weak grip on the boy. The apple scent was there and something that was distinctly Peter, but also the smell of him still lingered – of Tony and his aftershave, or the motor oil, or coffee. It always stayed on Peter now as if Tony had imprinted himself on the boy and claimed him, which, in a way, he had, and the kid was bound to have something there after ‘borrowing’ so many of the billionaire’s sweatshirts and sleeping in his bed and feigning the same mundane excuse that it was ‘comfy’, when Tony knew better. This kid needed him, depended on him…loved him. The unbridled love that he had for the teenager in his arms was just as strong on the receiving end and there was nothing that could come between that.
“…just stay with me, baby, stay with me…I’m not gonna let you go…”
They remained entwined in each other’s arms and anyone in that restaurant would be damned to try and separate them. The colours and lights and pain were a blur to Peter, but one thing remained. Breathe. His Dad ‘s cologne. Breathe. Something wet in his hair and a small sniffle above him. Breathe. The tickle of the man’s facial hair against his skin as soft lips tenderly touched his fore-head. Breathe.
“-ulance is here now, honey…” Exhale. Darkness.
…
“The peppermint oil extract in the mint leaves contains chemicals like salicylates and linalool and these were identified as a threat to Peter’s immune system when he consumed them. His body produced histamines as a result of the antibodies in his bloodstream attempting to fight the foreign object and this resulted in the severe anaphylaxis he experienced whilst his body struggled to cope with the allergen.”
“So, he’s allergic to peppermint?” Rhodey voiced his thoughts aloud after attempting to take in the information Tony had just explained to him.
“In short answer, yes. I can’t believe I didn’t anticipate this, spiders fucking hate peppermint. It can kill them…” Tony’s face paled at the mention of the word, his eyes wide and misted over with panic and if it weren’t for Rhodey’s steady grip on his shoulder, he might have fallen to the cold hospital floor.
“Hey, Tony, Tones, look at me,” the Colonel commanded, softly, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. “He’s okay, he’s going to be fine. Just breathe.”
The billionaire choked on a weak chortled laugh as the instruction bore a striking resemblance to the words he had been speaking to his kid barely an hour ago. He took his own advice and inhaled deeply through his nose, before releasing it and smiling in appreciation at his best friend, clutching his arm in gratitude. “Yeah, he’s a little fighter. He’ll outlive us all…” He mused, glancing over his shoulder to the door to the small treatment room he had just vacated and then turned apologetic eyes on his friend. “I’ve gotta get back to him, I told him that I wouldn’t leave him.”
Rhodey smiled, lips trembling slightly, deeply touched by Tony’s dedication to the boy. He hadn’t been in the ambulance with them, but when Peter was carried away on the stretcher, the genius had not left the teen’s side for one second. He had fought to remain right by the top half of his son’s body, coarse hand cradling the back of his head like one would do with a new-born and pressing his fore-head to Peter’s to quietly reassure him that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was a sight that had both melted and broke the Colonel’s heart. “Get back with your baby, Tones,” he ordered with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll let everyone know he’s okay.”
Tony only nodded and with a departing squeeze of his friend’s arm, he turned and let himself back into the room Peter had been bedded in. The teen had fallen unconscious moments before the ambulance arrived and the paramedics had immediately strapped him into the oxygen machine to regulate his breathing and had to navigate around a very stubborn, terrified father who refused to move from his spot next to his son. When he opened the door and slipped inside, he was surprised to see Peter’s eyes creaking open slowly and they instantly fixated on his father in the doorway. Tony wasted no time in approaching the bed and taking his claimed seat next to.
“There he is, there’s my little spider,” the older man spoke with a small smile, affection dripping through each syllable as he inched himself closer and observed the exhausted expression marking his son’s youthful features, reaching up to weave his coarse fingers into the teen’s baby soft curls. Dark chocolate brown eyes flickered over the weak form to check for any signs of pain or discomfort, but Peter seemed to be more confused than anything else. He’d had his oxygen mask removed some time ago as his breathing had returned to normality once the doctors had subjected him to antihistamines to reduce to dangerous affects of the allergic reaction on his body.
“D-Dad,” the boy croaked, brows furrowing as his vision cleared from sleep and he was able to focus on his father’s concerned face.
“Hey, buddy. How’re you feeling?” Tony asked, smiling gently and continuing to stroke his son’s hair to anchor him down to reality and encouraging him to speak.
Peter swallowed, thickly, finding that the lump in his throat had gone and the swelling of his mouth had also reduced significantly. His fore-head creased as he thought about what to answer with. He wasn’t feeling his best, or even good for that matter, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been. It was almost as if he was in that place between the dream world and reality, floating above the clouds and not quite aware of what was even real. He wet his lips, finding that his mouth was very dry, however Tony was already holding a plastic cup to them with cool water in. “Drink up, kiddo,” he said, and Peter took small sips, relishing in the feeling of the refreshing liquid down his sore throat.
“M’ okay, I guess…” Peter spoke once his guardian removed the object from his lips, releasing a small sigh through his nose as he leant back against the pillow. His eyelids still felt heavy and he wanted to close them to succumb to the overwhelming fatigue sweeping throughout his entire body. He didn’t even have the strength to smile in relief that the turmoil was over, and he was safe now. It seemed that Tony knew exactly what he was feeling, just like he always did just by one glance at the teen’s face.
“You get some rest, Pete. Everything’s going to alright now,” the billionaire murmured, not liking the quick spark of fear which shot through his kid’s eyes.
Peter weakly grasped at the man’s shirt sleeve, fingers desperately clutching the fabric. “Stay,” he whimpered, eyes begging. “Please.”
Tony only smiled, tenderly, and leaned forward to hover over the boy and press a delicate kiss into his curls. He smelt of hospital and disinfectant, but the trace of Peter was still there. “Always, baby. Dad’s staying right here with you.” The only response he received a few moments was a quiet snore and when he pulled back, the kid’s eyes had slipped close once more and he was sleeping peacefully.
Rhodey would walk into the room about ten minutes later after making various phone calls only to stop in his tracks. Tony was laying on Peter’s right side on the bed, his dress shoes removed and an empty plastic cup in his hand. His head was lightly resting against the teen’s and both were sound asleep. The Colonel smiled, softly, at the sight and snuck his phone out of his pocket to take a quick shot, knowing that Tony would probably appreciate it when he woke up later and he quietly left the room to give the two their privacy. He hadn’t been there to witness Tony becoming a father at the beginning, but he sure as hell knew that meeting Peter might have been the best thing to ever happen to his best friend and they were damn lucky to have each other.