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Hiro Stark-Rogers wasn’t a baby, he was a twelve year old sophomore in high school—he didn’t need a babysitter. It was unfair how his dads allowed Peter and Tadashi to go out for the night while practically grounding him at home and getting Aunt Wanda to babysit him. It would’ve been a bit fine if it was Uncle Clint or Uncle Pietro alone since Aunt Wanda didn’t let him stay up late or let him watch TV for more than two hours.
“This isn’t fair,” Hiro whined during dinner, eating leftovers from last night’s dinner, “Peter and Tadashi are studying out and I’m stuck here—I’m in the same class!”
“Too bad, squirt,” his Uncle Pietro teased, going around the kitchen, opening and closing the cupboards, “don’t you guys have anything but leftovers—and what the heck, Poke Berry Poptarts? Wait, aren’t these supposed to be discontinued?”
Hiro shrugged, “…Tadashi has a thing for Pokemon.”
“Must be nice to be Stark,” Pietro sighed and threw a couple of poptarts into the microwave.
Wanda shook her head at her brother and turned to Hiro, “it’s not that it’s unfair, Hiro. Stark and the Captain are just looking out for you.”
Hiro turned to his aunt with a cocked brow, “those two are out completely unguarded.”
“Unless you’re a superhero, squirt, you can’t go out there,” Peitro joked and was promptly squirted with water from the faucet.
“What he means, Hiro,” Wanda smiled gently at the boy over her brother’s protests in the background, “is that Peter and Tadashi are older and are capable of handling themselves. You still haven’t even hit your growth spurt yet—”
“Aunt Wanda!”
“—it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Pietro took his time getting it, too. But my point is, you’ll get there someday. You don’t need to rush things, time will take its course naturally.”
“Besides, squirt, wherever those two are, it’d be jailbait to bring you—”
“Hiro honey, don’t you dare listen to a word your Uncle Pietro is saying. Now, if you’re done with dinner, you should go take your bath.”
Hiro’s face fell, “do I have to?”
“If you’re still complaining, then all the more reason why you’re still a kid, Hiro.”
“Fine.”
Hiro hated it whenever Aunt Wanda was babysitting, he really couldn’t fall asleep before eleven and she tucked him in by nine—who did that? Not even Pops or Tadashi did that, usually. He turned to his side and checked the time, it was ten twenty and his brothers weren’t home yet. Just where on earth did those two go that they weren’t back yet? And he was sure Pops was going to kill them if they weren’t home by eleven.
“I should build something to make me fifteen,” Hiro sighed into the darkness before rolling to his other side, “that way I don’t get babysat.”
He hoped Tadashi would get home soon, his older brother always stopped by his room before heading to his own for the night. Hiro could just ask him to stay over for the night so he wouldn’t be too bored and Tadashi could tell him about their study session or whatever. He might even brought some snacks, he usually did.
“Idiot brothers,” Hiro muttered as he turned but was startled by the loud bump and in instinct, hid under his comforter, “just what the hell was that?”
He inhaled deeply, quietly and then there it was again—a loud thump, thump, thump. He’d never heard of the tower being haunted but then who was to tell ghosts that they couldn’t haunt a place? It was getting louder and faster this time—just where the hell were his brothers? What were his babysitters doing?!
Shaking, Hiro quickly grabbed for his Stark phone and was just about to call his brother when he stopped himself. Rationality came back to him, if he called anyone right now they’d think he was a coward and a baby—he’d be stuck in the Tower forever!
He forced himself to sit up and slide slowly down the bed, he was going to face this ghost and prove he could handle himself. He quietly pushed his door open, clutching his Stark phone to his chest with a tight grip as he looked around for any anomalies. Finding none, he inhaled deeply and lightly toed out of his room, feeling a sudden chill run down his back.
Relax, Hiro, ghosts aren’t real. There’s no science to back it up.
He listened quietly to the sound, trying to figure out where it came from and it led him to the—kitchen? What was a ghost doing in the kitchen?
“Oh, Pietro!”
Wait, what.
Hiro was confused—it wasn’t a ghost?
“I can’t believe—we have to st—Hiro’s in his room!”
“He’s not out here, is he? Besides, it’s been a while—”
“It’s been six hours, you—hnnng!”
Hiro swallowed the lump on his throat, it suddenly didn’t sound so ghostly or terrifying anymore. But at the same time, he was tense—they weren’t doing what he thought they were doing, were they? For one thing, they were, well, twins.
“Come on, baby, you miss this, too. Admit it, sis, you do.”
He’d never heard his aunt make that kind of sound before and she was loud, did they actually think he could sleep through their racket? And urgh, Hiro tried to keep the mental image from surfacing into his consciousness but he couldn’t stop it. It was there and even with his genius mind, he couldn’t make a brain bleach.
Scampering back to his room, he shut the door behind him and fell all over his knees. He was twelve, not stupid (far from stupid). He was a growing boy entering puberty, he knew was sex was, he just didn’t think his aunt and uncle were screwing each other every six hours (was that even possible for men?).
“J-JARVIS, amp up the cooler to max now,” he ordered, suddenly feeling hot and having a difficulty in breathing. It was a moment later when he realized he was getting turned on—damn puberty and hormones.
He felt dirty for actually getting turned on by his aunt and uncle, that should rank at the top five most disgusting things to fap to. He tried thinking of anything to get himself to calm down: clowns, bugs, Tadashi walking in on him and—
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.”
Hiro groaned, slamming his hands to his head as he only got harder at the thought of his brother walking in on him and helping him jerk—
“Hiro Stark-Rogers, you are not going there. That is forbidden territory. The black hole. The end of all ends. No—”
Suddenly he was pushed forward, falling on his knees and hands when the door behind him opened.
“Hir—crap, are you okay, Hiro?!” Tadashi’s voice filled the room and instead of feeling relieved that his brothers finally got home with food (he could smell the sweetness of cake and frosting), Hiro stiffened (in more ways than one) and slammed his back on the door.
“I’m fine!” The younger brother squeaked, using his weight to close the door behind him. Tadashi—or anyone for that matter—couldn’t see him like this, “just uh, looking for something on the floor, yeah! Um, oh, look, found it! Good night, nii-san!”
“Hey, wait—we got you some cake—”
“I brushed my teeth! I’ll have it for breakfast!”
“But—”
“Night!”
With a final push, the door closed and Hiro immediately went to put the lock code on and changed it to stupid idiot so that Tadashi wouldn’t even be able to guess it. With the door locked, Hiro sunk back to the floor and banged the back of his head to the door.
“Just great, Hiro,” he groaned to himself, trying to ignore the problem between his legs that didn’t even lose interest over that surprise. He sat in silence, having an internal struggle, telling himself that he was stronger than this, he was going to will his hormones awa—
“Screw this.”
Hiro Stark-Rogers, twelve and a boy genius, shoved his hand in between his legs and found his release at the thought of his brother. This was a new reason to hate Aunt Wanda and Uncle Pietro for babysitting him.