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Chapter Text

"Hey, Sweetie.  How was class?" May asked as Peter came, literally dancing into the apartment with a smile so wide that it was almost comical.  "I'm guessing that the casting list was posted?"

"Yep!" Peter chirped as he flopped himself down onto the couch beside his aunt.  "I got the part!"

"The part?" May asked sounding more surprised than she meant to.  Over the summer, when he'd decided to audition for a more prominent role, they had both known that it would be a long-shot.  Peter was talented but he lacked the experience that some of the older students would be bringing to the table.  Having gotten a call-back alone had been a huge honor.  Neither of them ever imagined that it would go any further than that.  "As in your first choice?" she then asked, just to clarify.

"Yes!  Isn't that amazing!" Peter practically screeched leaning in to squeeze his aunt around the neck. "I would have been okay if I'd ended up as a soldier or something but this is so much better.  And even though it's not super professional or anything, it's still like a dream come true!" he dreamily stated, still riding the high that came from such unexpected and thrilling news.

May squeezed Peter once more, kissing him on the forehead, and squealed happily. "I'm so proud of you Peter!  You've been working hard for the last, what?  Nine?  Ten Years?" she asked as she thought back to all of the many, many recitals and performances she'd sat through over the years.  She could clearly picture every single one.   The difference between the very first tone and the most recent one had been significant.  Little Peter had leaped and twirled in unison with his class to 'You are my Sunshine' while a much older and more skilled Peter had worked with a partner to choreograph and perform a routine set to the song, 'Clocks.'  "That's a lot of dedication.  I think you've earned this.  Don't you?"

"Eleven years," Peter corrected with a smile. He'd been awarded his scholarship when he was five and had been attending the same performing arts school ever since.  "-and yeah, but usually the Cavelier for the Sugarplum fairy goes to a more experienced dancer.  Mrs. Alistar says that I'm the youngest dancer the school has ever offered that part to," he said, once again setting off sparks of excitement and anxiety in his chest.  Eleven years of dancing aside, he was still only sixteen and that was nearly unheard of.  Even in a non- professional, large school setting.  The previous year's caviler had been four years his senior.

"That's exciting!" May exclaimed.

"It is!" Peter agreed before bringing his thumb up to his mouth to chew on his nail.  "But it's also kind of scary.  Like, what if I screw up, miss too many rehearsals, or get hurt while on patrol? Not only would I be letting everyone down but I'd also be ruining the chances of anyone else under the age of nineteen ever getting the part again," he said with a deep sigh.  It wasn't like he could take it easy as Spider-man until after the last performance.  Queens counted on him to keep them safe and he took that responsibility just as seriously. 

May hummed neutrally and tipped her head towards the certificate that was framed on the wall beside them.  "Speaking of missing rehearsals," he said with a curious tilt of her head. "How are you planning on balancing all of those extra practices with both Spider-man and your 'internship'?  Are you going to tell Tony?" 

Peter paled at the question.  He didn't know why but he really, really didn't want to tell Tony.   It wasn't that he was insecure about his dancing.  If that was the case, he would have quit years ago when Flash had taken pleasure in asking him about his non-existent tutu and calling him 'Twinkle Toes.'   But he didn't.  He took the taunting in stride because he liked ballet.  Even as he grew older and became the only boy in the class.  He was good at it and that made him feel good about himself. 

Though he supposed that his classmates growing up knowing that he danced was very different than telling Tony Stark- Iron Man- that he spent an awful lot of his free time practicing ballet.  Despite knowing that the man cared about him, there was still a tiny voice in the back of his head whispering that he should keep quiet about it.  "I don't want to tell him," he finally uttered under his breath.

 "Why not, Peter?" May laughed.  "He'd be proud of you too."

"Maybe," Peter waveringly replied, bringing the side of his bottom lip between his teeth.   "I'm just not ready for him to know that about me yet.  Please don't tell Mr. Stark," he pleaded, knowing that his aunt and his mentor periodically spoke on the phone about him.   Like some of the more annoying patrol restrictions that had been put into place once May had found out about his alter-ego, periodic meetings between the two prominent adults in his life had suddenly become a semi-regular event.  It was both interesting and annoying all at once.  

"Alright," May conceded with a sigh.  "But I really think that you should."

__________

The conversation had taken place just after school had started and at first, it had been pretty easy to balance everything.  Dance wasn't really taking up any more time than it usually did.  He was able to work his lab days in between his regular classes and practices without a problem.  However, as fall approached, his ability to keep his extra extra-curricular activities a secret became more difficult.   By November, additional studio time was being required and it was as though Ballet was slowly starting to take over nearly every moment that wasn't spent in school.  Even still, he was meeting up with Tony on a regular basis.  Patrols were growing shorter and there were days that he never made it into the suit at all but it was easy enough to claim that he was having to study more as the end of the semester approached.

However, he wasn't sure how he was going to keep that up as the performance grew closer.  Eventually, there would be rehearsals, costume fittings, and last-minute practices being called with little to no warning.   And due to his role, he would be expected to be there for the bulk of them.   May had continued to press for him to just come clean to his mentor, promising that he would be happy for him but he still couldn't bring himself to start that particular conversation.  It was fine though.  December was right around the corner and in just a few short weeks, the show would wrap up and things would go back to business as usual.  All he had to do was show up at the studio on time, keep his grades up, make sure to see Tony on a regular enough basis that he didn't worry, and try to squeeze in some patrolling in between.  

Chapter Text

"Hey, Mr. Stark," Peter called out as he skidded through the labs sliding doors and shook a few remaining snowflakes out of his hair.  December had come with a flurry of white and he was in a really good mood because of it.  He and Ned had engaged in a brief snowball fight once school had let out and walking from the bust stop to the tower catching the cold flakes on his tongue had been calm and pleasant compared to the rush of activities he'd been bouncing between since Thanksgiving.

"Hey, Pete!" Tony returned with glee.  "Just the kid I wanted to see!"

"Oh yeah?" Peter asked as he threw his bag down onto the couch and crossed the room towards his waiting mentor.  "As opposed to that other kid that you didn't want to see?" he added because he was nearly sure that he was the only 'kid' that Tony interacted with on any kind of a regular basis.   In fact, the man usually tried to claim that he didn't even like kids but he wasn't apt to believe him.  He knew for a fact that there was a drawer, right there in the lab, that was crammed full of crayon drawings and scribbled letters.

"Exactly," Tony quipped without missing a beat and then looked up to grin in the boy's direction.  "I'm not in the mood to babysit Barton.  Which is why he's not allowed in here anymore."

"You're so mean," Peter teased with mock disappointment.  "And it's December.  The season of love and giving."  

With a roll of his eyes, Tony set down the tools he'd been working with and rolled his chair over towards where his mentee was still hovering by the door. "I'm not mean.  I'm cantankerous.  There's a difference," he stated before noticing that the kid's hair was downright damp from the freshly fallen snow.  "Did you seriously not wear a hat today?"

With another vigorous shake of his head, Peter gave the man a sheepish grin.  Ballet Practice had gone late the night before and he'd left to patrol right after, meaning that he'd had to wake up super early that morning in order to finish the rest of his homework.  He hadn't exactly had time to check the weather before darting out the door in time to catch his train.  "I didn't realize it was going to snow that much today," he replied.  

Tony huffed a laugh and got up to grab a clean towel from under the sink in the connecting bathroom.  He couldn't understand how a kid who was constantly complaining that he was cold could possibly forget something as simple as a hat.  "Do you want to catch pneumonia?  Because this how you catch pneumonia," he said as began to dry the boy's hair himself.

"You don't catch pneumonia from not wearing a hat, Mr. Stark.  That's not how it works and you know it," Peter returned with a roll of his eyes.  Though he did cringe a little at the mere thought of getting sick so close to the performance dates.  He is was just glad that he had his healing factor to rely on.  Even if he did get sick, it wouldn't last long and it most certainly wouldn't turn into pneumonia.  "I have a healing factor."

Choosing to ignore his mentee's defenses, Tony finished the job, returned to his seat, and kicked his feet up onto the desk. "You going to work on your suit while you're here or what?" he asked for the sole purpose of changing the subject.  

With a wide grin, Peter glanced out the large windows at the snow-blanketed city.  "Actually I had a question for you before we did anything," he replied without hesitation after a spontaneous thought jumped into his head.

"Sure.  What's the question, Underoos?" Tony asked, expecting, said question to have something to do with the spider-suit or at minimum something tech-related, leaving him completely unprepared for the kid to start spinning on his toes with his arms held out wide.  "What are you-" he chuckled only to be cut off before he could finish his amused inquiry.

"-Do you wanna build a snowman!" Peter belted out with gusto and then looked at his mentor with anticipation but he didn't get quite the reaction he was hoping for.  He could feel his stomach coiling with mild anxiety as the room went quiet for several seconds after the drawn-out note had been completed.  During which time, the man seemed to be making an immense effort to keep his face a straight as possible.

"Is that a reference?  I feel like that's a reference," Tony finally said, knowing it would annoy the kid to no end.  He was rewarded when the teenager's smile dropped into an unamused glare.

"Everyone's heard of Frozen, Mr. Stark" Peter stated without humor.  "-and if you haven't, then we're going to need to fix that.  ASAP."

"No, no.  No need for that," Tony quickly defended as he held his hands up in defense.  He'd seen enough commercials and heard enough parodies that he was positive that he didn't want to sit through the actual movie.  Though he also knew that if Peter decided that he needed to see it then there would be very little he could do to stop it.  Okay, that wasn't quite true but when the kid got something in his head, it was very hard to detour it and typically not worth the effort to try.  But still, he pressed, "I do not need to see that.  Ever."

"Then let's go build a snowman," Peter returned with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips.  "You still don't have a hat," he pointed out because as much as he didn't particularly want to go out into the snow, he also didn't particularly want Peter going back out into the snow without proper coverage.   The kid had only been inside for ten minutes and couldn't have possibly warmed up in that short of an amount of time.

"I don't need a hat!  It's not even snowing anymore.  I'm fine,"  Peter retaliated with a smile. "But if you really don't want to then I guess we could watch the movie instead," he suggested hoping that would be enough to get the man to give in.  

With a huff and roll of his eyes, Tony held up his index finger.  "First of all, just because it isn't snowing anymore doesn't make it any less cold, and second-" he continued, raising another finger to join the first "-I definitely don't want to watch that movie.  Don't you want to just stay inside where it's nice and warm and build an- I don't know- anything else?", he pleaded but when the boy shook his head and grinned, he gave in and went to go find his own coat and hat, grabbing an extra one for Peter in the process.  He wasn't going to let the kid freeze to death on his watch.  May would kill him.

Once they were outside on the tower's snow-covered atrium, they set to work.  Peter started what would be the bottom of the snowman before handing the task off to Tony while he packed a couple of more snowballs so that they could create the other two-tier.  When he was done he looked up to find Tony still pushing around the large base, making it even larger.  "I think that's big enough, Mr. Stark.  There's not that much snow on the ground yet and you're going to use it all up on just the bottom piece," he said with a laugh.

"No, I'm not.  This place is huge," Tony argued, waving his hand haphazardly towards the large area.  He was pretty sure there was still enough snow to finish the job.  Not that he was practiced in making snowmen.  But he was a genius and was capable of eye-balling how much material they would need to create the necessary spheres.  

Peter hummed and nodded his head as he began to roll one of the snowballs around to create the middle.  Tony took the other to make the head and soon they were stacking them on top of each other.  "It's looking pretty good," Peter stated once they had stepped back to admire their work and patched up a few misshapen spots.  "Do you have a carrot for the nose?"

"Why would I have a carrot?" Tony asked with a quirk of his brow.   

"Because they're healthy?" Peter countered with confusion.  He and his aunt always had an assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables in the kitchen.  He just sort of assumed that everyone did.  It wasn't like he made a regular habit of digging through the man's refrigerator.  Outside of grabbing a can of soda or bottle of water there had never been a reason for him to go in it at all.  Typically they had all of the food that they could possibly eat delivered to them. 

 "So are the Brussel sprouts that you refuse to even try," Tony shot back without missing a beat.  He'd ordered some of the best roasted, garlic-parmesan Brussels sprouts known to man and the kid had adamantly refused to even taste one.  His exact words being something along the lines of, 'Keep your weirdly tiny cabbages away from me.'

"Whatever," Peter playfully groused and then turned out his heels to jog back towards the door.  "I'm going inside to find some stuff to make a face with," he called out leaving his mentor standing there with nothing but a faceless snowman for company.

Having decided to skip the kitchen altogether, Peter went back down to the lab to rummage around in a box of spare parts and the various drawers full of all varieties of hardware.  He didn't rush, giving himself time to rub his hands together in an attempt to warm up a bit before having to go back outside.  He didn't want to admit it but the hat had been a good call. As opposed to his walk to the tower, this time it was only his fingers and nose that were freezing instead of his entire head.  

After gathering everything he thought he could possibly need, Peter trotted back out into the snow and dropped his findings down beside the snowman.  Tony rolled his eyes but didn't say anything as he watched everything being put into place.   Waiting until the kid had stepped back beside him to comment.  This is the most ridiculous snowman I've ever seen."  he said as he took off his sunglasses and perched them onto the large bolt that had been used for a nose.  

"Hey!  I think Mr. Snowman looks nice!" Peter laughed.  "The shades were a good choice.  He's still missing something, though," he admitted once Tony had finished adjusting his addition to the project.

Tony looked the snowman over, taking index of its face.  His sunglasses were all but hiding the large aluminum spacers that had been used for eyes.  The nose was there and just below it there was a smile made of hex nuts.  He supposed they could find something to give the things buttons but all in all, it looked fine to him.   "Oh yeah?  Like what?" he asked when he couldn't sort out what exactly the kid had in mind.

With a wide grin, Peter reached up and pulled the stocking cap off of his head and plopped it onto the snowman's head.  "A hat."

"Maybe he just 'forgot it,'"  Tony replied with a glare before snatching the hat back up and shoving it onto Peter's heads so hard that it nearly covered his eyes.  Then, as the kid laughed, he looked towards the setting sun and sighed contentedly.  "You ready to order some dinner?" he asked as he placed his own hat onto the snowman's head. 

Peter's gaze followed Tony's and when he saw how low the sun was hanging in the sky, he gasped and looked down at his watch.  He had exactly twenty-eight minutes to get to rehearsal. "I don't have time, I need to go!" he shouted while trying to decide if he would have time to eat any kind of dinner at all.  He'd been having so much fun that he'd lost track of time completely.  

"Go where?  You've only been here for an hour and a half," Tony said, his brow furrowed with confusion.  Typically the kid hung out with him until after dinner and dove off of his balcony to go on patrol for an hour or so before curfew.  

Having not had time to come up with any kind of excuse, Peter floundered.  "It's- it's a, uh- school type thing," he said because that was technically true.  He attended the J. Leavell School of Performing arts and the word school was right there in the name.  Going to rehearsal was definitely a school type thing.  It just wasn't a thing for the school that the man would assume he was talking about.  

"A school type thing," Tony blandly repeated.

"Exactly.  And I have to be there by seven," Peter said, bouncing on his toes as he spoke.  He really didn't want to be late.  He'd already been late twice in the last few weeks due to some Spidey business and didn't want to be late again if he could help it.  "-but I'll see you Friday I promise!"

"You can't skip dinner, kid," Tony said with a flourish of his hand.  "At least let me drive you.  We can pick up some fast food on the way."

Peter contemplated that offer for all of about three seconds.  Having a ride would be quicker and getting dinner in the process would be awesome but if Tony dropped him off at Midtown he would realize that there was absolutely nothing going on there.  Plus he would have to walk two blocks to the studio and risk the man following him. "No, it's fine.  I've got it, Mr, Stark.   I'll pick up a hotdog on my way there,"  he promised, pulling a wrinkled up, five-dollar bill out of his pocket just to prove that he really did intend on eating something.  He really didn't need his blood sugar to drop while he was dancing. 

"You need more than a hotdog!" Tony pressed, digging for his wallet out of his own pocket in the process.  "Here, buy yourself a real dinner and keep the change," he insisted as he thrust a twenty into the kid's hands.

Lacking any time to argue, Peter took the money and stuffed it into his pocket along with his own and gave the man a quick hug.  "Thanks, Mr. Stark!  See you on Friday!" he shouted before running full speed back down to the lab to collect his things.  

"Yeah," Tony replied to the empty space that was now between him and the door.  "I'll see you on Friday."

Chapter Text

What had started as a mildly runny nose on Thursday morphed into something far more offensive by Friday morning.  Peter woke up with drool on his pillow from where he'd been forced to breathe through his mouth all night and a few aches and pains that were suggesting that he more than likely had at least a mildly elevated temperature.  As he swallowed down some orange juice and picked at the warm buttered bagel he'd thrown together, he considered staying home from school.  Then two thoughts crossed his mind.  The very first one being the dance school's policy that if you're too sick for academics then you're too sick for dancing.  The other being that he was meant to go to Tony's straight after practice and he didn't want to miss out on either one of those things.  So, school it was.

So, after finishing off his meager breakfast he threw his coat and scarf on along with the hat that he'd yet to return to Tony.  Mostly because it was thicker and so much warmer than his own.  He was also reasonably sure that it repelled water and considering that it was threatening to snow again, that seemed like a major bonus.   He thought about that all the way to the train station and by the time he was descending the stairs, he was starting to wonder if he could get away with never returning the hat at all.  The man was a billionaire.  He probably had an entire closet full of hats.  Surely he wouldn't miss just one of them.

The trip to school seemed to take forever and by the time he got there, he was severely regretting having not placed a packet of tissues into his pocket.  He caught himself running his hand under his nose, no less than ten times during the trip. Thankfully he had time to stop by the bathroom, blow his nose, and stuff a huge wad of toilet paper into his pocket before meeting up with Ned before his first class.

"Dude.  You look pale.  I mean you always look pale but you look- pale-er?  Are you okay?" Ned questioned in lieu of a greeting.

Peter groaned in response and made his way to his seat where he refused to remove any of his outwear.  At least until the teacher arrived and started enforcing the school's completely stupid 'no hats' rule, which only took a total of about three minutes.  He tried to argue that the spirit of the rule was to prevent students from trying to hide their faces but, as expected, the teacher didn't actually care.  So he plucked it off of his head with a frown and tucked it into this pocket, hoping that no one would give him to hard of a time about the mop of unruly curls he'd not bothered to brush that morning.

The rest of the school day went buy in a haze.  Ned would drag him to class where he'd auto-pilot his way through taking the notes that were displayed on the board before being dragged to his next class.  Lunch was spent forcing himself to swallow down half a sandwich with milk and the day ended with a solid nap in Study Hall that left him feeling slightly just rested enough to hopefully make it through the rehearsal without literally dying.  

By the time he reached the performing arts center, the cool, damp winter air had cleared his sinus enough to breathe but unfortunately exacerbated the general runniness of his nose.  It also seemed to have amped-up his chills by a factor of three thousand because he couldn't seem to stop shivering even after he'd gotten inside, making him dread changing into his leggings and a fitted t-shirt. He considered whether or not it was possible to keep the hat on without drawing too much attention.  Like a fashion statement.  Hopefully, one that said, 'I find this hat charming' and not 'I have fever chills.'

Once he was changed, he slipped out of the dressing room and into the large hall to listen to announcements and find out what he would be working on or who he would be working with for the afternoon.  Though the second he passed through the large double doors, into the auditorium he felt a hand unceremoniously land on his forehead.

"Mr. Parker," he heard a familiar voice ring out and turned to face one of his instructors.  "As much as I admire your dedication, you know the rules.  No school, no practice," she said, giving him a stern look.  When he didn't reply she sighed and held a hand up in defeat.  "Please tell me that you didn't actually go to school like this."

"I didn't actually go to school like this?" Peter sheepishly repeated earning himself another exasperated look.

"You have a fever," the woman blandly pointed out.

Peter sighed as his shoulder slumped in defeat.  He could probably blame the warm forehead on- something.  The flushed cheeks and raw nose that had probably caught her attention, to begin with, would be much harder to explain away.  "I've already been late to a few practices and rehearsals.  I don't want to lose my part!" he practically whined.

"You've been late, yes, but you haven't missed any and you've not fallen behind in learning your routine," the instructor said with a soft smile that quickly turned more serious.  "Besides, we don't need you to spread your germs to everyone else, less than a month from the performance.  Go home.  Get some rest.  We'll see you once you've been fever-free for twenty-four hours."

"Fine," Peter conceded because honestly, getting some rest sounded really nice.  What did not sound nice was having to put forth the effort to change back into his regular clothes.  Of course, it didn't take long to convince himself that the long sleeves alone would be worth it.  So, he trudged back to his assigned locker, swapped out his attire, and headed back into the cold, where he paused to debate his next move.  

He was meant to be going over to Tony's to work in the lab and spend the night that evening but the man wasn't really expecting him for a couple of hours.  Then again he didn't know if the man would want him to come over at all if he knew he was sick.  It had never really come up before.  Though it was worth considering that May was still at work and if he went to the tower, there would be an adult nearby to bring him warm drinks and dole out cold medicine.  Not that he needed one to do that for him, he was sixteen for crying out loud.  It was the idea that he could flop down onto the couch and not have to get up for anything other than the bathroom that sounded extremely appealing at the moment.  That combined with the knowledge that that tower was at least, twenty minutes closer than his apartment made his decision for him and soon enough he was stepping into Tony's private elevator, talking to FRIDAY.

"Where's Mr. Stark?" Peter asked as he lay his head up against the cool mirrored wall, sending a shiver up his spine.

"The boss is in a meeting on the twenty-first floor in the Conference room 'C'.  Is that where you would like to go?" the AI promptly replied.

"Nah.  Take me to the penthouse.  I'm gonna take a nap," Peter grumbled with a sniff and a yawn.  The nap he'd taken at school hadn't really helped much and he was suddenly glad that he'd not tried to power through ballet.  He probably would have passed out before the end of the first twenty minutes. "Will you tell him I'm here when he's done, though?"

FRIDAY agreed and took Peter straight up to the penthouse where he toed off his shoes, dropped his bag and his coat into a heap on the floor, and then dragged the duvet off of his bed and into the living room before sprawling out across the couch.   It had been his intention to turn on a movie or something as well but he couldn't find the energy to do so.  Therefore, he just closed his eyes and fell, instantly, to sleep.

"Kid?", Tony called out when he entered the penthouse a short time later.  He technically supposed to be in another meeting but when Friday had informed him that his mentee had arrived early and was currently sleeping on his couch, he'd become concerned.  So he announced his early departure without preamble and thankfully Pepper had a soft spot for the kid, meaning that he was free to head upstairs without any obnoxious eye-rolls or comments.  

When his initial call didn't get an immediate response Tony made his way down the hall to check the bathroom and the kid's bedroom.  When he found those rooms empty and the bed devoid of blankets he rolled his eyes and walked back into the living room where he found Peter still sound asleep on the couch.  "What are you doing here?  I thought you weren't coming by until closer to six-thirty," he whispered, once he'd prodded the teenager into opening his eyes.  "-and do you have a fever?  What did I tell you about catching pneumonia?" he questioned once he'd registered the amount of heat radiating off of the boy's shoulder.

"Hmm?" Peter questioned before his sleep hazed brain was able to process what he's been asked.  At which point, he stretched his arms over his head and groaned. "Oh, yeah.  I, uh, I might be a little bit-" he began, interrupting himself with a loud sniff, followed by a few muffles sneezes.  "-sick but it's definitely not pneumonia.  It's just a cold or something.  I probably should have stayed home today but I didn't and I was just so tired, and this was closer so I came here instead of going back to my apartment," he rambled and then, unsure if the man was offended by his current state or not he rubbed his eyes and added, "I can go now if you want me to."

"No, no.  You're fine here," Tony assured, taking a half step back to assess the kid's appearance.  Sneezing and runny nose aside he looked a little worse for wear.  His cheeks were both pale and heated at the same time, his eyes were glassy and despite the heavy blankets he was still wearing his... "Hey, is that my hat?"

Reaching up with both hands to hold onto said hat before his mentor had a chance to snatch it away from him, Peter smiled wearily.  "Um..."

"It's fine.  You can keep it," Tony said with a mock, huff of annoyance but what he was really thinking was that at least the kid had enough since to have put a hat on that morning.  once Peter had thanked him and he'd subsequently waved it off as nothing, he sighed. "You need anything?  I mean other some Tylenol, a can of Lysol, and a gallon of hand sanitizer?" he asked, cringing when the boy pulled a wad of cheap toilet paper out of his pocket to blow his nose into.  "-and maybe some actual tissues?  The kind with lotion in them.  Because your nose is redder than that reindeer's."

"You mean Rudolf?" Peter asked, ignoring everything else his mentor had just said to him.  

"No, I meant the other red-nosed reindeer," Tony shot back with another roll of his eyes but he smiled all the same.  "Now, do you need anything else or not?"

Having remembered at least part of the reason he'd decided to go there instead of to his apartment, Peter smiled and pulled himself along with his blanket up into a sitting position. "Can I have some hot tea?" he asked hoping that tea, unlike carrots, was something that the man did keep stocked in his kitchen.  

"Sure, Buddy," Tony easily replied and then walked into the kitchen to start a kettle before disappearing down the hall to collect all of the other things that he assumed would be necessary for taking care of a sick spiderling.  That included a trek down to the medical wing to collect a bottle of fever reducers made to meet the needs of an enhanced teenager's metabolism.  When he returned the kettle was nearly boiling so he pulled it off of the stove and then carried everything else into the living room, sitting it all down within the kid's reach.

Peter offered a polite thank you as he was handed some water and two tablets and was just about to pop them in his mouth when he noticed that Tony was placing a trash can just within his reach. "Oh, I'm not that kind of sick, Mr. Stark," he said with a blush rising to his cheeks.  Blowing his nose in front of the man was bad enough, there was no way he would have shown up anywhere near the tower with a stomach virus.  "I don't need that."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Tony quipped, tipping his head towards the toilet paper that had been set down on the corner of the coffee table.  "I don't want your snot all over my furniture, thanks."

"Oh," Peter replied as his cheeks managed to turn three more shades of red.   But when the man smiled at him he tried to swallow it down as he knocked the offending ball of tissue into the trashcan. 

"Yeah, oh," Tony said and then turned back towards the kitchen to grab the mug of steeped tea, taking care to add a decent portion of honey to the mix before placing it into the kid's hands.  Once he'd been given a nod of approval he sat down in the chair beside the couch and snatched the remote off of the end table.  "Movie or are you going back to sleep?" he asked, already flipping through the available options.

"We can watch a movie," Peter replied with a contented sigh as he allowed the steam from his cup to fill his nostrils and clear up his clogged sinuses.

Tony hummed and paused on a film that he'd not seen in years.  He wasn't sure if the kid would be interested in it but the more he looked at him the more evident it became that his wakefulness was decidedly temporary.  "Well, I'm picking," he stated without room for argument, "-because I can already tell that you're not actually going to stay awake for it."

With a deep yawn, Peter set down his half-empty mug and leaned heavily against the cushions.  "That's probably fair," he admitted with a grin and was expectedly back to sleep within the first quarter of the movie.

As time passed and the sun began to set, Peter was nudged awake by his mentor who had decided that it was time for him to eat.  It took him a few minutes to clear his head but by the time he was being handed a giant container of Egg Drop soup he more than ready to swallow it down and was already invested in the Christmas movie that he'd somehow persuaded the man to watch with him while they ate.

With very little deliberation Tony seated himself next to the overly warm kid and smiled.  He'd never considered himself to be much of a caregiver.  Often he had trouble just taking care of himself, but for all of his lack of experience, he was finding it incredibly easy to tend to Peter's needs.  It actually made him feel really good knowing that the kid was comfortable enough around him that he was willing to allow himself to let his guard down in his presence.  "How are you holding up, kiddo?" he asked when he realized that the boy was sitting there balancing an empty container on his knee.

"Good," Peter replied though his statement was undermined by the fit of sneezing that followed it.  "Mostly good," he amended once he'd wiped his reddened nose and taken a few sips of water.  Tony chuckled and suggested that he go to bed, but he declined, in favor of starting another holiday-themed film. It was still early in the season but he knew that 'downtime' was going to be hard to come by in the coming weeks, making him want to take full advantage of his forced day of rest.  He was glad to see that Tony didn't seem to mind.  

The rest of the evening was spent in that manner.  Peter dozed his way through movies, only getting up once when his bladder demanded it and once again when his mentor insisted that it was late and that he should retire to his bedroom.  He didn't even try to argue at that point.  He was sure the medication was starting to wear off and could feel himself beginning to ache again.  Then as if, the man could read his mind, he found himself being handed two more tablets once he'd gotten to his feet.  "Thanks, Mr. Stark," he said but paused just before he tossed the medication into his mouth,  "For all of this I mean.  Thanks for letting me stay even though I don't feel good and ruined our lab time."

"Nothing was ruined, Buddy," Tony said softly.  "Besides, I'm sure you're going to feel loads better in the morning.   We can always do some lab time then if you're feeling up to it."

"Yeah, I never stay sick for long," Peter conceded.  The man wasn't wrong.  He wasn't sure if it had to do with his enhanced metabolism or his healing factor but he always recovered quickly.  Even last year's flu only had him fully out of commission for a day and a half.  Thinking back on that reminded him of the dance class he'd missed because he was sick and sighed because even if he did feel better the next day, his fever hadn't broken in time for him to attend the next day's rehearsal either. "-and I guess I can stay all day.  I have to be fever-free for twenty-four hours before I'm allowed back at the stu-school.  Extracurricular stuff, you know?" 

"Of course," Tony replied but there was at least a small part of him that was still trying to figure out what was going on that had the kid lying to him about school activities for the last month.  He didn't, however, feel the need to press it.  May hadn't called him with any concerns on her end so he could only assume that it was fine.  Christmas was creeping up on them after all.  Maybe the kid was doing a lot of secret shopping.  Then the kid sneezed followed by a loud sniff, pulling him out of his thoughts.   "Plenty of time to tinker, then.  Now, get to bed, Rudolf!  I'll see you in the morning," he playfully shouted, sending the kid down the hall laughing.

Chapter Text

Peter woke up Saturday morning feeling marginally better.  He was hungry and his nose was still a mess but he was sure that his fever had officially broken at some point during the night because his pajamas were sticking uncomfortably to his body. He was just starting to gather some fresh clothes from his drawers when there came a knock at his door.  When he opened it up he was met by his mentor, who was already dressed and ready for the day, thus prompting him to look at the clock by his bed.  He'd somehow slept past ten in the morning.  No wonder he was starving.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark.  I didn't mean to sleep in like that-"

"-It's fine.  You were sick.  Probably needed it," Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he looked the kid over from head to toe.  The first thing he noticed was that the color in his cheeks looked far more alive than it had the night previous.  The next thing he noticed was the loud growl coming from the teenager's empty stomach and the slightly self-conscious look that followed it.  "Should I make you some breakfast or order an early lunch?" he asked with an amused, half-cocked smile.

Peter ran his hand over his stomach as if that would quiet it and looked towards his mentor with a bashful smile.  "Maybe both?" he suggested, "-but you don't have to make me anything, Mr. Stark.  I can just have some cereal to hold me up until lunch gets here."

"Sounds like a plan, Kiddo," Tony returned and then disappeared down the hall, leaving Peter to hurridly shower in peace.

After breakfast and subsequently lunch, the rest of the day was spent in the lab.  Though Peter's mind was elsewhere.   As much as he loved tinkering with Tony, he was acutely aware that rehearsal was taking place across town without him.  No longer feeling completely miserable left him with a guilty pit in his stomach.   Even knowing that he would have been sent home had he shown up wasn't enough to keep him from feeling like he'd let everyone down and his mood was suffering because of it.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Tony asked when the kid seemed to be spending more time staring out the widow than working on the task set before him.  He knew that he'd not spiked another fever.  He'd already had FRIDAY check.  But he supposed that just because his temperature was back to its typical medium didn't mean that the boy was invulnerable to some lingering fatigue or discomfort.  Especially considering that he was still carrying a box of tissues around with him.

"I'm fine, other than a runny nose.  I don't feel bad. " Peter sighed out and then frowned.  " I mean, I do.  Just not because of being sick or anything."

Tony took a rolled a chair over to where the kid was sitting and joined him in watching the skyline.  He wasn't sure when he'd become so invested in the teenager beside him that such a small comment could send little red flags up in his head but it did.  Maybe because Peter had been being so evasive for the last several weeks.   He wished the boy would just tell him what was going on.  He was clearly upset on some level and all he wanted to do was help.   "What's eating at you then, Buddy?" he finally asked, when it didn't look like the kid was going to open up on his own.

"It's nothing.  I just feel bad because I can't go to my- school thing," Peter easily replied, but once again nearly slipped up and outed the one secret he was still keeping from his mentor. "Everyone else is working really hard and I'm- here."

Despite the way his brain was screaming 'What school thing!' Tony managed to keep it cool.  He simply leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Well, I'm sure they understand,"  he said because even though he had no idea what exactly the kid was missing, he did know that they couldn't be mad at him for having a fever.  Especially when it was abundantly clear that he was invested in whatever it was.  So much so that he was upset to be missing out.  "If you're sick, you're sick.  You can't help that." 

"I know that Mr. Stark," Peter strained. "-but I feel like I shirking my responsibility."

With a playful scoff, Tony reach over and dropped a hand heavily onto his mentee's shoulder.  "You, Mr. Parker, are not even remotely capable of shirking responsibilities.  You're too full of ethics and good manners and all that jazz," he said with seriousness smile.  The kid was sixteen and already more reliable than most of the adults he dealt with on a regular basis.   Sure, there times when he was positive that boy's pubescent impulsivity would give him a heart attack but at the same time, he knew that Peter was one of the few people he could depend on.  He was good like that.  "Whatever this is, Buddy, they'll be fine without you for a day."

"Sure," Peter whispered in return and then swiveled his chair back to his desk still thinking about ballet.

Even with his head unclear, Peter eventually got himself on task and completed the work that Tony had given him.  After which he swung his way home to spend the rest of his weekend with his aunt.  Between a day of taking it easy around the tower and a day of lounging around with May, he was more than ready to get back into the studio after school on Monday.  So much so, that he didn't even entertain the idea of sneaking in a few minutes of Spider-man time between obligations.  He went straight there and changed out quickly before joining the rest of the group in the auditorium.

Once they had separated into groups, Peter finally had an opportunity to apologize to his partner for the two missed practices and was relieved when she didn't seem upset.  He hoped the instructors all felt the same way and as the girl, who was nearly three and a half years older than him, began to assure him that she'd spent those days working on her technique and helping with younger children he was reminded of how much faith they had put in him.  He was the youngest cavalier in the school's history.

With the thought still firmly set in his head, Peter stayed late to make up for the lost time.   His timing had been slightly off for the entire practice and he was determined to correct it before he left.  He'd just started the music for what felt like the hundredth time when one of his favorite instructors came into the room and paused it.  

"Peter, it's late and you should be heading home," the man said, not unkindly.

"I can't," Peter replied through his teeth before taking a deep breath through his nose. "I need to get this right.  Can I- can I have like, another half hour?" 

The man smiled softly and crossed the distance between them.  "I can tell that you're frustrated and that's exactly why I shouldn't give you another half an hour," he said with kind gravity.  "You can't accomplish anything if you're rushing it because while passion fuels you, frustration breaks you down.  Your drive should come from wanting to be the best that you can be, not the desire to create perfection in one afternoon.  Be patient.  You're doing well." he pressed and as much as Peter tried to let those words sink in, they couldn't seem to get past his heavy shoulders.  

"But I missed two days," he harped, "-and everyone is expecting me to do great things and I just don't want to let anyone down.'

"You're not letting anyone down, Peter," the instructor firmly assessed before tossing Peter his towel and turning off the audio completely.  "You're an amazing young man and you've already put in a lot of work today.  Why don't you call it a night and head out to do something fun?" he suggested with a smile.

Peter nodded his head and brought his bottom lip between his teeth.  "Are you sure?  That I'm doing well, I mean," he asked.

"I'm one-hundred percent positive," the man rapidly replied.  "We have another practice on Wednesday, and until then, why don't you just concentrate on listening to the music and imagining the routine.  Believe it or not, visualization can be a really big help."

Peter thanked the man for his suggestion and mulled it over as he changed clothes.  He supposed that from a psychological standpoint, that using visualization as an additional practice technique made sense.  You could perform perfectly in your head and in that was the chance to spot where you were going wrong when you performed the same routine physically. 

He ended up giving it a try that evening as he sat atop a water tower gazing down at the people below.  He just hoped that his mentor didn't get some sort of report about all the things he asked his AI to do because he wasn't sure how he would explain why he wanted The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy played through his mask.  But he supposed that if it came up he could always blame it on a desire to keep up his holiday spirit while on patrol.   Either way, he decided to take a chance and make his request.

As it turned out, Peter found the passive metal exercise pleasant and oddly relaxing.  So much so that, by the time he was walking into the tower on Tuesday afternoon he was inadvertently chasséing across the large empty lobby with his arms open, his back arched, and a relaxed smile upon his face.   That is until FRIDAY welcomed him back to the building and caused him to gracelessly trip over his own feet when he came to a sudden halt.  "Geez!  You scared me!" he squawked once he'd regained the majority of his composure.

"I apologize, Mr. Parker," the AI said not really sounding very apologetic at all.  "Would you like for me to alert the boss of your arrival?"

"Sure but maybe don't tell him about the, you know, dancing or whatever," Peter replied, cutting his eyes to the side as he did so.  When FRIDAY agreed he allowed himself to let out the breath he's been holding before walking into the elevator.  He really hoped that Tony hadn't been watching the surveillance footage as he'd entered the building. He shuddered at the thought, then reached into his jacket pocket to unwrap the candy cane that had been nestled there since the end of the school day and smiled the moment it hit his tongue.

"Hey, Mr. Stark!" Peter slurred past the candy in his mouth as he slipped through the lab doors.

"Hey to you too," Tony returned, looking up from the computer he'd been staring at with a smile that met his eyes.  "What with the pipe there, Frosty?" he asked, laughing when the boy gave him a confused look before a realization seemed to hit him making his eyes lit up.

"Oh!" peter exclaimed once he'd figure out what the man had been talking about.  "My math teacher gave everyone who answered the bonus question on last night's homework a candy cane." 

Tony covered his mouth and feigned a cough to poorly cover up his utterance of the word 'Nerd'.  Peter squinted his eyes in return and pointed an accusatory finger towards his mentor.  "Takes one to know one," he teasingly mocked.

"Whatever," Tony clipped back with a flourish of his hand and a  roll of his eyes.  There wasn't really much he could say to argue that point, so he simply moved on.  "I thought your spidery-self didn't like peppermint."

"That's why I picked this one," Peter replied, popping the candy out of his mouth and holding it right under Tony's nose to prove that was defiantly not of the peppermint variety.  He'd figure out that he could no longer stand the taste of anything mint flavored the very first time he'd tried to brush his teeth after his encounter with the radioactive spider.  He'd never been more thankful for bubblegum flavored toothpaste in his life.  "See? Strawberries and creme."

"Alright, I get it.  It's not peppermint," Tony groused while attempting to lean away from the offending confection being forced into his personal space.  A task that wasn't exactly easy considering that the kid has stupidly quick reflexes.  Eventually had to stand up completely to get away from the giggling teenager and his sticky candy cane.  He tried to stay firm as he ordered the boy to 'get that slobbery thing out of my face,' but he broke down laughing before he could get it out. 

Once the room had grown quiet and he's crunched through at least half of his sugary snack, Peter leaned over Tony's shoulder to see the screen that he'd gone back to. "What are you doing?" he asked when he realized that there was absolutely nothing on the monitor.

Tony sighed and ran a hand tiredly down his face. "Procrastinating mostly," he admitted, still frowning at his lack of progress.  He'd managed to get through the majority of the list he'd set out to complete but there were still a few gaps in his planning.  "The Annual Avenger's Christmas Party- which you're invited to by the way- is coming up and I've yet to actually plan anything."

The machines whirred in the background as Peter's brain clicked into overdrive.  He could have sworn that Iron Man had just invited him to an Avenger's event and surely he had misheard that.  He blinked once, twice, and then opened his mouth to say something but closed it almost immediately.  It wasn't until the man raised an eyebrow at him that he was able to shake himself out of the stupor.  "I-I'm invited to the Anual Avenger's Christmas Party? Me?  Peter Parker?" he asked and was met with an amused nod.  "I thought you said I wasn't an Avenger."

"You're not.  You're more of an- Avenger in training, but that doesn't make you any less invited," Tony flippantly remarked.  "Wouldn't be a party without you, Junior."

Ignoring the diminutive nickname, Peter leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand.  "What do you even do at the Christmas party?" he asked because the only 'adult' Christmas Parties he'd ever attended were the work-related ones that May dragged him to and those were boring.  All they did was stand around talking about work while sipping at wine and complimenting each other's sweaters.  He was having trouble picturing the Avengers in such a stodgy setting. 

"Same stuff we always do, just with Christmas music playing in the background," Tony replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "And eggnog instead of beer," he tagged on as an afterthought.  Despite the company style name of the event, it was really more of a get-together than anything else.  Things could turn from casual to outright chaos in a matter of seconds with the right motivation.  Lifting Thor's hammer being towards the top of the list.  Thus far, Steve was the only one who had gotten even remotely close to shifting.  He wondered if Peter had a half a chance.  It wouldn't be surprising.   

"So what do you have to plan then?" Peter inquired, pulling his mentor out of his thoughts.

"Well, for starters, a caterer would be nice," Tony replied.  "Hiring someone to decorate would be nice too but seeing as this shindig is less than a week away, that's easier said than done.  Hence the procrastinating.  Apparently, I'm going to have to do it myself," he said with a dramatic display of his hands.  Typically Pepper handled this sort of thing for him but she's been busy with a bunch of tedious contracts that she wanted to sort out by the new year and he's promised her that he was a big boy and could take care of it himself.  That had been over a month ago and it really wasn't his fault that he forgot about it.  He wasn't used to planning ahead.  He was more of a spur of the moment kind of guy.  

"I could help!  I mean, not with the food but I love decorating for Christmas!" Peter happily announced. Out of all of their neighbors, he and May were always the first to put their tree up and the last to take it down because the colorful lights and happy little trinkets were the best part of the season.  That and the music.  And the gift-giving.  That part was really great too.  He just really liked the Holidays and was getting very excited about the prospect of helping to deck the halls of the Avenger's tower.

"Of course you do," Tony said as he watched the teenager practically vibrate with anticipation.  He couldn't help but smile.  Even after so many years of botched holidays he still loved Christmas just as much as he had when he was younger.  Though his enthusiasm was nothing compared to Peter's it seemed.   Making it very hard to tell him 'no.' Harder than usual anyway.  "I tell you what, Cheermeister, I'll have the bots drag the boxes out tomorrow and if you come by after school, I'll not only wait for you, but I'll let put the star on top of the tree too."

Peter glanced at the packed-full calendar on his phone and grimaced.  "Okay, but can it be after- after school?  I have a thing.  I could be here by six-thirty though!  Please!" he begged, hoping that his inability to arrive before what amounted to dinner time, would suffice.  He really, really didn't want to miss out.

"What kind of thing?" Tony asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

"A school thing!"Peter shot back without missing a beat.  "I have to go to it but I'll come here right after, Mr. Stark.  I swear!"

"Sure," Tony agreed after several seconds of thought.  It wasn't like he had anything else to do anyway. He just really wished that he knew what was keeping the kid so busy.  He made a mental note to call and question May about it because clearly, Peter wasn't going to tell him, and honestly, it was annoying the hell out of him that he wasn't in the know.  He just hoped that May was because if the kid was keeping a secret bigger than his vigilante alter-ego, then they might have a very big problem on their hands.

Chapter Text

For the entire evening and a good portion of the next morning, all Tony did was stew over every interaction he'd had with Peter over the past two months.  The kid had been his typical lively self, chatter-boxing the days away but at the same time, he'd been being exceedingly elusive about what he'd been up to outside of regular school hours. He was continually blaming 'school things' for his late arrivals and hasty retreats but one look at the school's website showed that there wasn't a single extra-curricular on the calendar outside of scheduled tutoring and he knew the boy wasn't taking part in anything like that.  Even if he was, it would be him doing the tutoring and there would be no reason to hide that. 

Of course, it had also crossed his mind that maybe the kid was just trying to squeeze in more patrol time.  With the holidays upon them, there was an increase in home invasions and pick-pocketing that Spider-man would no doubt want to prevent.   Yet a quick check with Karen via FRIDAY had instantly put that theory to rest.  If anything there had been an exponential decrease in patrol time in the last two weeks alone.  That being more worrying than anything else.

When he couldn't come up with any other reasonable explanation for the kid to be hiding things from him he decided it was time to bite the bullet and call May.  Either she knew what was up and would fill him in or she didn't and they could sort it out together.  Though he was really that it wouldn't turn out to be the latter.  Peter was usually extremely forthcoming, honest, and just in general, good.  Meaning that, if May didn't know about it then it had to be catastrophic. 

"Hey, May, How are you on this lovely Wednesday afternoon?" Tony greeted, the moment the lines had been connected.  

"Oh, I can't complain.  But I'm assuming you can.  Is this about Peter?" May asked with amusement because honestly, she'd been anticipating a concerned call since mid-November.  

"Yup," Tony clipped back, popping the 'p' for emphasis.  "That kid's been running late, rescheduling and being generally evasive for the last month and a half.  What gives?" he asked, dropping all the pleasantries in favor of getting information.  

"Ah," May simply replied, sending Tony's nerves into a frenzy.

"'Ah?' All you have to say is 'Ah?'" he questioned with near annoyance because it seemed like she knew something that he didn't and clearly wasn't in any kind of a hurry to enlighten him.  "What is going on with my kid?"

At those words, a surprised laugh erupted from May's mouth.  "Who's kid?" she asked, wondering if the man had even realized what he's said.

"Ugh! Fine, your kid," Tony frustratedly corrected.  He was worried and she wanted to tease him about semantics?  

"He's our kid now.  Good to know," May teased pulling an unidentifiable noise of distress from the other end of the line.  "He's fine, Tony.  Just- busy," she gently explained, knowing full well that she'd not really explained anything.  Peter had asked her not to tell and seeing as it wasn't anything detrimental, she was inclined to honor that promise.

For a second or two, the call went quiet while Tony waited for more.  When nothing else came he pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.  "Busy with what?" he nearly whined.  "You're being just as bad as he is!"

Having heard the stress in his voice, May hesitate slightly. "Tony.  Tony, it's not exactly for me to explain but I assure you he really is fine," she placated, hoping that would be enough but of course it wasn't.

"May if he's in some kind of trouble I can help.  I can help both of you.  Just say the word and-" Tony began.

"-He's not in trouble.  I'm not in trouble.  No one is in any kind of trouble.  He's just being, well, he's being Peter," May exasperatedly expressed, though there was a large part of her that was happy to know that they had a friend that they could lean on if they were ever in any kind of trouble.  "I promise if there was ever anything serious going on, I would tell you.  I know how much you care about him."

Tony huffed a laugh at the observation. "Yeah, well, he's like like a stray dog.  I fed him once and he keeps coming back," he grumbled even though he knew she was right.  

"Did you just compare my nephew to a stray dog?" May incredulously questioned before bursting out laughing.

"Eh.  Could have been worse," Tony replied, cringing as he thought about the whole 'screwed the pooch' analogy.  Even he could admit that he'd taken that one too far but he was determined to keep the current one relevant. "The point is, I gave him a name and now I'm attached.  It's purely psychological."

"Right, well, my point is that everything is fine and eventually he'll tell you what's going on himself.  Just promise me you won't nag him about it," May replied, still suppressing a few lingering giggles.

Tony scoffed at the accusation. "I don't nag."

"That's not what hear," May sing-songed, the smile on her face obvious in her tone. 

Unsure of where that was going, Tony abruptly decided that it was high time to get off the phone. "Oh, would you look at the time-" he hurriedly clipped but May was talking over him before he could properly end the call.

"-A little spider told me that you were all over him about a lack of hat not even two weeks ago-" May managed to get out before Tony was meeting her at her volume.

"-I've got to go, May!  Call me if you need me!" he nearly shouted, hanging up before she had the opportunity to tease him any further, and then leaned sighed.  The conversation hadn't been near as informative as he'd hoped it would be but at least he was reasonably satisfied that the kid hadn't gotten into anything over his head.  That was just enough for him to breathe a little easier but not enough to let it go completely.  He wasn't going to nag though.  He didn't nag.

Later that evening Peter came charging into the tower full speed.  Rehearsal had run late he was legitimately concerned that Tony was going to be annoyed.  The man had already stalled his plans to wait for him and there he was showing up a full half an hour late.  "I'm so sorry!" he shouted as he skidded into the penthouse to find his mentor sitting on the couch with his arms crossed behind several boxes of no longer piping hot pizzas.  "My thing went late, so I tried to swing over so I could get here faster but then the guy asked me if I could help him find his-"

"-it's fine, Pete," Tony interrupted.  "I mean, it's not fine because I ordered the best pizza in the city and now I'm stuck having to microwave it- but I'm not mad."

Peter dropped his bags and slapped the spider emblem on his suit, unabashedly swapping his clothes out right there in the middle of the living room before grabbing the biggest slice in the box.  "Why bother reheating it?  It's good like this," he proclaimed through a mouth full of his partially chewed dinner.

Tony pulled a face as he watched the kid shove damn near half a slice of pizza into his mouth and then proceeded to smack his way through it.  "Cold pizza is fine for breakfast but for dinner, it needs to be hot- and didn't anyone ever teach you to chew with your mouth closed?" he asked with something between amusement and disgust.

After swallowing what was in his mouth, Peter shrugged his shoulders. "How can you be picky about pizza?" he asked not understanding how anyone could have rules about what temperature food should be based solely on the time of day.  "You're so weird."

"I'm not weird.  I'm eccentric" Tony replied. "-but wanting my dinner to be hot can hardly be considered an idiosyncrasy" he flippantly remarked.  Then tossed the kid a napkin when he ended up smearing sauce down his chin while continuing to shovel food into his mouth as though he'd not eaten in a week.  "Hungry?"

"Starving," Peter returned with a grin but the moment his appetite was satisfied he leaned back onto the couch and contentedly rubbed his stomach.  "Did you get the boxes out of storage?" he asked, more than ready to move on to what he considered to be the main event for the evening.

"Sure did," Tony quipped as he began to clean up all of the empty boxes. "Of course, by that, I mean that I had DUM-E do it. But honestly with the amount of supervision that bot requires I pretty much did it myself.  Sans the heavy lifting."

"Awesome," Peter replied and soon the two of them were on the common floor where the Christmas party was meant to be held.  There were boxes upon boxes of decorations lining one of the walls.  There were so many that he wasn't exactly sure where to start until he spotted a gigantic box labeled 'Twelve-Foot, Faux Fraiser Fur' and that sealed it.  They would definitely be starting with that.

He laid out all of the parts and hurridly connected them.  Once it was together he stood back and stared at it.  He and his aunt had purchased a six-foot pine and he'd thought it was a decent size.  However, the one he was currently looking up at made it look like a stick in comparison.  He couldn't wait to light it up.   

"Aren't you going to help?" Peter asked once he'd strung the impressively not-even-slightly-tangled lights on the tree and had begun to search for the ornaments.

"I am helping. I'm supervising," Tony said with a smirk.  He was trying to feign disinterest but in reality, he was just having fun watching Peter getting all excited about everything.  

Peter hopped up from where he'd sat on the floor to dig through boxes and grabbed the man's hand, tugging him towards the tree. "Ah, come on, Mr. Stark!  You have to help," he said with a wide grin that somehow managed to grow as he looked towards the large television mounted on the wall. "Oh! -and we need to turn on something Christmasy!" he giddily shouted.  "Hey, FRIDAY?  Will you play the Radio City Christmas Spectacular on the big TV?"

Soon the room was filled with music and the two of them started placing all the various baubles and trinkets onto the branches.  Tony covered the bottom half while Peter scaled the wall and took care of the top.  They both laughed and playfully bantered, tossing the ornaments into each other's hands. 

As they worked togther to brighten the room, Peter hummed along to the familiar holiday songs and eventually found himself being wrapped up with a long string of garland that Tony had pulled out of a box.  He smiled and allowed it to happen, laughing outright when a wreath was unceremoniously plopped onto his head once he'd been sufficiently tied up.  By the time he'd freed himself and gone back to decorating, The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy was playing from the speakers as the Rocketts danced on the television screen.  He smiled as he hummed along and was about two seconds from twirling along when he spotted Tony looking at him from the couch. He was glad that he'd caught himself and in order to avoid any further temptation, he dropped down onto the cushion beside his mentor who handed a cup of hot cocoa that had seemingly been plucked out of thin air.

After taking a few sips out of his own mug, Tony decided that it was time to pry a little.  Just enough to hopefully prod the boy into telling him whatever secret he'd been withholding and decided that maybe the best way to do that would be to pull Spider-man into the equation. "So-" began, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 
I notice you've not been out in the suit recently.  Everything okay?"

Despite the man's attempts at being subtle, little bells started going off in Peter's head and he was suddenly worried that the man had figured everything out.  But certainly wasn't going to throw himself under the bus should that not be the case.  He was going to play it cool. "Yeah.  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.  Everything's great," he replied, not sounding nearly as casual as he'd meant to.

Tony hummed and set his mug down onto the table. "I just wanted to check in because you've only logged about twelve hours in the last week.  Suits working okay?" he continued to question under the guise of mechanical curiosity.

After taking a long sip of his own hot drink, Peter nodded his head.  "Yep.  It's perfect, Mr. Stark.  Really.  I've just had a lot going on," he said, slightly more relaxed when it didn't sound like the man was more concerned about the suit than he was his whereabouts.  "Holidays and whatnot."

"Right," Tony sighed out and gave the boy beside him a beseeching look.  "But you would tell me if there was a problem, right?" he asked hoping that the underlying message of 'I'm not actually talking about the suit' came across.  However, if the soft smile he received in return was anything to go by, then he could assume that it had and from there he simply let it go.  May was probably right and the kid would come to him when he was ready.  Then, he cleared his throat and gestured to towards the handful of remaining boxes.  "Should we get back to work?" he asked and peter readily slurped down the very last of the cocoa and eagerly jumped up to finish the job.   

The next day was Friday meaning that Peter was supposed to spend the night with Tony and that was great.  The problem was that he was also supposed to be at rehearsal on Saturday afternoon and that wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't also meant to be back at the tower for the party at eight.  Though the timing its self wasn't an issue so much as the fact that he would have to leave and come back.  He wasn't sure how to do that without reigniting his mentor's concern.  He was starting to think that maybe he was using 'school' as an excuse a little too often.

Eventually, he decided that he would tell Tony that he had a holiday obligation to take care of.  That, much like calling it a 'school thing,' was still a half-truth making it a bit easier for him to get past his lips without sounding completely guilty, and thankfully it worked.  Other than receiving an exasperated sigh and a warning to be back to the tower by seven sharp the man seemed to believe him. 

Thankfully nothing ran late and he was able to get from the studio to his apartment to shower and change, and back to the tower with time to spare.  As such he went up to the penthouse rather than the common floor when he arrived and FRIDAY must have warned Tony that he was on his way up because the man was in the living room

"Welcome back, Kiddo," Tony greeted as he continued to adjust the tie that he'd tucked into the front of his bright red sweater.  Once he had that situated he turned his full attention to his mentee and raised an amused eyebrow.  "What are you wearing?" he asked, waving a hand towards the sweater the boy had changed into before his arrival.

Peter looked down and ran his hands proudly down the front of his sweater to smooth it out and beamed.  "It's my favorite Christmas Sweater!" he said.  "Do you like it?"

Tony rolled his eyes and took a step forward to get a better look at the teenager's gaudy attire.  The sweater its self was red and green, and fuzzy from wear but the little patterns that were scrolled across it were still very clear.  "Are those tiny Enterprise ships?" he asked, using a finger to poke the boy right in the middle of his chest.  Of course, he knew they weren't.  He just wanted to rile the kid up.  And it worked.

"They're Tie-Fighters and you know it," Peter bit back with a very un-threatening glare that quickly melted into an overly excited smile.  "There're little Death Stars too."

"Nerd," Tony uttered with a half-cocked smile.

Waving his hand towards his mentor, Peter scoffed.  "Says the guy in a sweater-vest."

"What you talking about?  This looks great on me," Tony replied feigning indignance.  "Then again, everything looks great on me so I really can't go wrong."

"You're so modest," Peter stated with a roll of his eyes but at the same time there, was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  

"The most modest," Tony quipped and then grabbed Peter by the shoulder and pulled him into his side. "Ready to head downstairs?"

Being as it wasn't quite seven yet, the common room was empty when they arrived.  Peter immediately went to turn on all of the many, many lights that had been hung earlier in the week while Tony disappeared into the kitchen.  He smiled giddily at the Christmassy display and then bounced into the dining area where he found his mentor adding serving utensils to all the numerous dishes.  "I thought you said you couldn't find a caterer!" he gasped.  "Where did all this food come from?"

"The store, Pete.  I thought you were smart," Tony blandly replied and then used his thumb to gesture over his shoulder towards the oven.  "Help a guy out and grab the ham out of the oven.  There're some potholders on the counter," he said, glancing upwards when the kid didn't immediately trot across the room. 

"You cooked a ham?" Peter asked when Tony's eye's met his.  He'd been unaware that the man knew how to cook anything sort of scrambled eggs and grilled cheese.  Nine and a half times out of ten, they had their food delivered to them.

"No, I heated a ham.  Ham is pre-cooked.  Well, smoked, anyway.  The point is, all I did was make it warm," Tony said, smiling a little at the way the kid's face was scrunched up in disbelief.  He made a mental note to take the time to prove to the teenager that he wasn't completely inept in the kitchen.  Sooner rather than later.  "But for the record, I do know how to cook, I'll have you know."

Before Peter had the chance to say anything in return, the elevator dinging and in walked several Avengers.  "Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff!  Thor!" Peter shouted before scurrying over towards the more open part of the room, pausing when he remembered that he was supposed to be helping Tony with the food.  He looked pleading over his shoulder towards his mentor who rolled his eyes and waved him away mumbling something about, 'I see how it is,' as he took off running.  

Within a matter of minutes, the entire team was there and milling around the large room while Peter bounced between them.  Eventually Tony joined them, with a petite cup of eggnog in his hand, informing everyone of the buffet that he'd generously provided.  As was par for the course, half the team razzed him about it being his job to provide the spread while the other half thanked him and he, as always brushed every bit of it off.  Rrom there the night went by in a cheery blur.   

Sam and Steve reminisced about holidays past, Natasha and Clint sat on the couch bickering like an old married couple, and Rhodey stood around retelling all of his more exciting adventures to anyone who would listen.  Bruce stood near the window smiling as everyone mingled around him and at some point in the evening, Thor gave up on using the dainty punch glasses and eventually filled a large decorative mug with eggnog.  The later the evening became the more jovial everyone became and Peter was consistently in the center of it all.  However, by the time the clock struck midnight he was already slowing down.

"You doing alright, kiddo?" Tony asked when he found the boy stretched out across a loveseat in the corner of the large room.

"Mmhmm.  Just tired Mr. Stark," Peter mumbled back, yawning as he did so. "It's been a long day."

Tony hummed and patted the kid's leg so that he could sit down beside him.  "You going to crash here tonight?" he inquired, rolling his eyes a little when the boy flopped his legs back up onto the couch and across his lap.  "Well not here, here.  I meant in your room."

"Yeah, I think so," Peter replied followed by another yawn, that one so wide that it made his eyes water.  "I'll probably head out first thing in the morning though.  I like spending my Sundays with Aunt May."

With a soft smile, Tony patted the legs that were sprawled across his.  "Sounds like a plan, Buddy.  You going to head up now?" he asked because, despite the significant background noise, it looked like the teenager was two minutes from passing out right in the middle of the party.

Peter nodded, forced himself to sit up, and looked around the room.  He knew he'd see everyone again eventually but he also knew that having everyone together at the same time was rare.  Part of him wanted to stay up with them but mostly he was exhausted from bouncing between activities all day.  "Yeah, I think I am," he eventually sighed out. "But I'm definitely going to tell everyone good-night first," he added and hopped up, to go around the room and tell everyone good-night before heading towards the elevator.

Chapter Text

As Peter sat down in his homeroom class on Monday morning he was abruptly reminded of the exams that would be taking place at the end of the week making his heart drop down into his stomach.  He wasn't ready.  He'd lost track of time and outside of completing his homework in order to maintain his grades, he'd not really studied for the sake of studying for weeks.  He pulled out his phone and peeked at his calendar.  He had a regular rehearsal on Monday and Wednesday, a dress rehearsal on Thursday, and a weekend filled with performances ahead of him  However, the actual exam days were early releases so that would give him two hours to either patrol or study between obligations.  Monday would be a different story, altogether but he was sure he could simply stay up a bit later than usual to squeeze in some flashcards and notes between a short patrol and bed.  Then realized he was scheduled to be with Tony on Tuesday afternoon and threw his head back against the wall with a loud thunk.  It was fine.  He could study while he was in the lab, even better he could probably get his mentor to quiz him while they ate dinner.  Either way, it was going to be a very long week.

Monday went about as well as he'd expected.  He finished up class and changed into his suit to patrol for half an hour before practice.  For good measure, he'd had his AI connect with Ned so that when he wasn't webbing up serial pick-pockets or chasing down petty thieves, they could discuss vocabulary words and potential essay topics.  Then he changed out of his suit and back into his school clothes just to change all over again once he got to practice, where he spent his next two hours.  Then, after a quick run to Delmar's for a sandwich, he was back to patrolling but only for a little while before he was climbing through his bedroom window and piling all of his notes onto his desk in preparation for a long night.  

The next morning he woke up tired but feeling good about himself.  The day was supposed to be easy.  Go to school, patrol, and then go to the Tower to hang out with Tony.  It was going to be great because not only would that mean having a break from being on his feet literally all-day but it also meant that he might be able to go to bed at a decent hour.   He'd stayed up far longer than he'd meant to the night previous but since he would be using his lab time to prepare for finals he wouldn't have to plug in the extra hours.  However, as he was pulling his jeans and a coat on over the spider-suit so that he could catch the bus to the tower, his phone vibrated in his pocket.  A last-minute rehearsal had been scheduled and his presence was mandatory.

With a deep sigh, Peter reluctantly dialed Tony's number.  "Hey, uh, Mr. Stark.  It's me, Peter," he greeted.

"I know who you are, kid," Tony chuckled in return.  "-and even if I didn't, I have caller ID and a know-it-all AI to fill me in."

"Oh," Peter replied, cringing at his own awkward stupidity.  Of course, the man knew it was him.   Then he realized that he'd not said anything for well over twenty seconds and took a deep breath.   "Well, I was just calling to let you know that I can't do the lab today but I swear I'll make it up to you tomorrow.  I can be there by seven and we can work on whatever it is that you want to work on or, like, have a wrapping party or something, I don't know but-" he rambled in apology but his mouth snapped such the second his mentor started laughing.

"What, in Thor's name, is a 'wrapping party?'" Tony asked with glee because of all the parties he'd hosted and attended he was sure that none of them had been 'wrapping' themed and he had no idea what the kid was prattling on about.  

"It's when you get together with someone else and wrap all of your Christmas gifts together so you can eat snacks and keep each other from getting bored and stuff," Peter replied in mild surprise, ignoring the man's teasing 'Of course, there're snacks involved' as he contemplated his own explanation. "You've never done that?  Is that not an actual thing?  Ned and I do it every year but he can't this time because he'd going to be spending the holidays out of the country.  They just ordered stuff online and had it ship-" he began, unintentionally falling into a whole new round of rambled thoughts.

"-Sure, kid.  Let's do that.  Why not," Tony interjected, still chuckling at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Cool!" Peter returned with a smile.  He didn't know what had possessed him to make that offer but he did have a lot of stuff to wrap and it would be more fun to do it with someone else.  The job was tedious and went by much faster when you had company- and food.  The food helped too.  Then he picked up his backpack and was once again reminded of the tests that awaited him at the end of the week.  "Unfortunately, I'll have to study too though because we have exams this week.  But we can do all the fun stuff first."

Tony hummed in acknowledgment.  He'd forgotten how close it was to the end of the semester and the kid canceling at the very last second suddenly made sense.  "Is that why you're bailing on me?  Last-minute study group or something?" he asked out of genuine curiosity but it did not go unmissed when his typically hyper-verbal mentee suddenly went silent at the inquiry.

"Uh-" Peter said in an attempt to fill the time it was taking for his short-circuiting brain to come up with an answer. "Yeah.  Sort of.  It's definitely a last-minute kind of thing but I have to be there," he said, hoping that his decidedly evasive reply wouldn't make the man worry too much.  Or too much more than he already was.  It briefly crossed his mind that maybe he should just come clean about it but quickly brushed that aside.  It was almost over.  He just needed to keep up the charade for the rest of the week and he was certain he could handle that. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark."

"No big deal, Kid.  Just go do what you need to do and I'll see you tomorrow," Tony said with forced pleasantry, but the second the line disconnected he calling May.  "The kid just canceled on me with no warning," he nearly shouted, barely giving her time to say 'hello.'

"Well, good afternoon to you too, Tony.  It's nice to hear from you," May chipped, pulling her phone away from her ear long enough to read the message she'd just gotten from Peter about his change in plans.

Being on the verge of a complete melt-down, Tony ignored the woman's banter and gritted his teeth.  "Give me one good reason, why I shouldn't track his phone right now," he demanded, feeling slightly proud of himself for not having done so already.  He'd had plenty of opportunities. 

"Because that would make you the ultimate helicopter parent?" May questioningly replied.

"I'm not his parent," Tony groaned into the receiver.

"Sure you're not.  I'll humor you," May returned with a roll of her eyes. "How about because it's an invasion of his privacy?"

"Does that still count for something if I concerned that his life is in danger?" Tony tightly inquired.  He'd already done as she's asked and not interrogated the kid about his sudden inability to keep a schedule with him but the once niggling concern had grown exponentially in the last ten minutes alone.

May sighed and switched the phone from her hand to her chin so that she could get up and step outside.  She was still at work and didn't need to be having this conversation in front of anyone.  "I can assure you that his life is not in danger," she placated once she was inside of an empty stairwell.

"Then what is he doing!" Tony stressed.  He wanted to be content that the kid's aunt wasn't worried but he wasn't.  He just felt left out of the loop and that alone was frustrating.  "Where does he keep going and why are we okay with him lying to my face?"

"Tony, calm down," May replied with a sigh.  It wasn't like she was thrilled about the withheld information either but it just wasn't her story to tell. "I get it that you're worried, I do but I promise you that it's nothing detrimental and that I'll try to sit him down and encourage him to talk to you about everything.  Trust me, trust him and be patient," she said and knew that her words had hit because she could hear the man shifting on the other side of the line.

After allowing those words to sink in, Tony huffed, "Patience isn't really my strong suit."

"Maybe it's not," May agreed with a small laugh, content that the man sounded a little less stressed. "-but I'm hoping that trust is," she gently added before glancing toward the door that would lead back to her office.  "I need to get back to work.  So, go- take a bubble bath or drink some fancy herbal tea or something to calm down."

Without his expressed permission, a tiny smile tugged at the corner of Tony's lips.  "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," he quipped as if luxurious bubble baths and soothing, warm drinks weren't something he regularly enjoyed.  He just didn't need or want her to know that. 

Once the call had ended, Tony leaned back in his chair feeling less frustrated but just as confused as he had been when it started.   He couldn't for the life of him figure out what the kid would want to hide from him but not his aunt nor did he understand why the boy felt the need to do so in the first place.  He'd been trying his hardest to be present, supportive, and as unlike his dad as he possibly could be, and with that thought, his heart skipped a beat.  He had Friday pull up the calendar just to confirm but even without the display he knew.  The very next day was the anniversary of his parent's death and he'd made plans with Peter.

For several minutes Tony sat there, gripping his left wrist and trying to decide the best course of action.  December the sixteenth was never a good day for him.  Usually, he spent it holed up in the lab doing whatever it took to keep his mind off of the memories from that day.  Keeping busy meant that he didn't have to think about the phone call he'd received from Jarvis, the funeral, the sympathetic looks, or the news articles that ran for days afterward.  His first instinct was to call the kid back and let him know that tomorrow wouldn't be a good day and that they could call it even but he couldn't bring himself to do it.  Instead, he cleared his throat and glanced towards the ceiling.  "FRIDAY? Go ahead and add a 'wrapping party' with the kid to my agenda for tomorrow evening," he said with the smallest of smiles because maybe a visit from his favorite young mentee would be just what he needed.

The next afternoon as Peter walked into his apartment to collect all of the things he would need to take to the tower with him, Peter sighed.   He was feeling extremely beat down for it to only be a Wednesday, but he'd bounded seamlessly from School to patrol to rehearsal and back to his apartment without a moment of rest in between, and he was exhausted. 

"Are you okay, Peter?" May asked when she walked in the door to find her nephew in the Spider-suit, slumped onto the couch with a roll of wrapping paper in one hand and a large plastic bag in the other.

Peter hummed in the positive and lolled his head to the side so that he could see his aunt.  "Just really tired.  I told Mr. Stark I'd come to have a wrapping party with him tonight though.  I just wish I'd asked him if he could pick me up or something," he said as he stood and stuffed the clothes he'd tossed onto the coffee table into the bag along with the gifts he needed to take with him.

"Want a ride?" May asked, jiggling the keys that she'd just pulled out of her coat pocket.

"Huh?  You just got home," Peter reasoned.  "I'll be okay.  Thanks, though, May."

"I don't mind, Sweetie," May insisted but when the teenager continued to look reluctant she rolled her eyes.  Driving you there just means that I can grab myself some eggrolls from Mr. Chopstix on the way home."

"If you're sure," Peter reluctantly questioned.  He didn't want to be a nuisance but riding in the car did sound so much better than putting forth any more energy at the moment.  It helped that he knew how much she loved those eggrolls.  And when she repeated that she really didn't mind, he forced himself up off of the couch and down the hall to change back out of the spider-suit.

"Hey there, Underoos!  Got anything for me in that big bag of yours?" Tony teased as he watched the kid struggle to fit through the elevator door with all of his belongings.

"Nope," Peter grinned, taking pleasure in the mock disappointment that his mentor was dramatically displaying.  "I'll wrap that one at home."

Tony let out an exaggerated breath and crossed the room to help the poor kid get everything set down. "Ah. But you did get me something," he said with a wink.

"Of course, I did," Peter scoffed.  "You're like, my second favorite adult.  Just a teeny-tiny notch below Aunt May," he said, pinching his finger so closely together that there was barely any space between them.  

Rather than acknowledge the teasing yet overtly sentimental comment, Tony placed his hands on his hips and sighed.  "What are you wearing this time?" he exasperatedly inquired once he'd gotten a good look at the kid's bright red sweater, adorned with a Christmas tree and a dozen tiny presents.

Peter grinned and tugged at the bottom of the sweater over his hips so that it was no longer bunched up and wrinkled.   "This is my Christmas present wrapping sweater," he happily explained before pressing one of the gifts, bringing the tree to life with a bunch of blinking lights.  "Look, it lights up and everything."

"Lordy, kid," Tony said with a barely concealed smirk.  "Turn that gaudy thing off."

"Sorry, Mr. Stark but I can't do that.  It's a tradition and you can't just break traditions," Peter said, not sounding very sorry at all.  Then his stomach reminded him that he'd not had anything but a cup of yogurt and a protein bar since he'd gotten home from rehearsal.  "Do you have anything to eat because I'm hungry," he said, his stomach growling loudly as if it wanted to prove the point.

"Yes, I've got things to eat," Tony playfully mocked.  "I ordered enough tapas to feed a small army.  -or one, Spider-kid with enough scraps left over for me to not starve," he said and then crossed into the kitchen to collect a mountain of cardboard boxes and aluminum containers.  

Once Peter had eaten enough to satiate his knawing hunger, he started pulling everything out so that he could start wrapping.  He started by lining up all the gifts and making sure that he had the tape and scissors within reach, and then rolled out the wrapping and began to cut.  

"You're going to gift-wrap all of that stuff in the paper?  Why not just use bags?  It's easier," Tony asked as he entered the room carrying a few things of his own.  

"Yeah, but this looks nicer, Mr. Stark," Peter reasoned, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to cut the exact amount of wrapping needed for the lego set he'd gotten Ned.  "Besides, it's more fun to open them this way."

Tony hummed in acknowledgment, tucked that little bit of trivia into the back of his head, and started to stuff the red gift bag he'd pulled out with silver and gold tissue.  He'd make an effort to bundle up whatever he ended up getting the kid so that he could tear it open.  As he did so, his mind drifted back to Christmases past, neatly packaged gifts and professionally decorated trees came to mind, along with the sound of his mother's voice singing along as she played 'Silent Night' on the piano.  Then he squeezed his eyes shut, blinking them back open a second or two later and looking at Peter's smiling face.   "You know, when we're done here, I thought we might bake some cookies.  I can help you study after," he said with a far steadier voice than he thought he'd be able to pull off.

"Christmas cookies?" Peter asked with bright eyes and a curious smile.

"Something like that.  Sure," Tony returned with a nod of his head.  The recipe he had in mind wasn't overly holiday themes but the majority of his memories surrounding them were.  Either way, they were cookies and he was positive that the bottomless pit of a teenager would be more than willing to help make and eat them.   And that thought was proven to be true as the boy enthusiastically grinned back at him

Not even a full hour later, Peter and Tony stood side by side in the kitchen.  Tony kept glancing at a recipe that was on one side of the kitchen, giving instructions to Peter who was on the other.   He'd just called out the last of the dry ingredients and was waiting for the kid to measure them out when he decided that the room had grown too quiet.  "So, Kid,  what do you want are you asking Santa to get for you this year?" he asked partially out of curiosity and partially to keep unwanted thoughts from entering his head.

"Oh.  I don't know.  I'm happy with whatever," Peter absentmindedly returned as he scrapped the top of the measuring cup with a knife and dumped the flour into the large bowl.  "Or nothing.  I like giving presents better than getting them anyway."

"There must be something you want," Tony replied, with a flourish of his hand.  "Come one, give me something to work with."

"You don't have to get me anything, Mr. Stark," Peter assured, still fully concentrating on the measurements.

Tony nodded his head and crossed the distance between them so that he could take the kid by the shoulder. "Ah but you see, I want to get you something and there's literally nothing you can do to stop me," he said, giving the kid a gentle squeeze.  "If I have to guess, there's no telling what you'll end up with."

With a deep sigh that turned into a small chuckle, Peter nodded his head.  "Okay, Mr. Stark, but nothing too extravagant or expensive or anything," he said, already imagining what sort of insane thing the man would come up with without restraints.   

"So, I guess that mean's that I can't buy you the entire Lego Store, huh?" Tony smirked, as he took over the bowl and carried it towards the mixer.  

"Absolutely not," Peter replied with a laugh and a shake of his head.

"What about half of it?" Tony probed, mostly to keep the kid giggling.  It was hard to be sad when the room was filled with such bubbly happy sounds and that's exactly what he'd wanted for the evening.

"What about one set," Peter replied but was quick to quantify it.  He knew for a fact that there were large sets, no longer in production that cost thousands of dollars online and he didn't want Tony to end up buying one of those.  Even if it would be completely awesome.  "A small one!"

"No promises, Kiddo" Tony laughed as he dumped the dough onto the counter and began to roll it into little balls that he then flattened slightly with the pad of his thumb.  "Go grab the raspberry preserves out of the pantry and fill these up," he said causing the teenager to hop up off of where he'd seated himself on the counter to collect the desired item.  However, once he's handed it over he seemed to be distracted by something other than scooping little dollops of fruit spread onto the unbaked cookies as he'd been asked.

Rather than taking up the spoon as he was asked, Peter picked up a handwritten recipe card from the counter.  It looked old with its smudged edges and fading lines.  He had his suspicions about where it came from but he wasn't willing to make assumptions. "Who's recipe is this?" he asked carefully.  

"My mom's," Tony softly replied and then suddenly found himself opening up, as words began to flow out of his mouth in rapid succession.   "When I was little, she and I would make cookies together.  Not often, mind you.  She was a busy woman but every once in a while, usually around the holidays, she would ask me if I wanted to help her in the kitchen and for a while I did.  But the older I got, the more distant and- arrogant I became, and even though I loved my mom, I allowed my feeling towards my dad to get between us," he said, his voice trailing towards the end as emotion began to clog his throat.  "I regret that."

Peter frowned as things began to come together in his head.  He'd been so busy spreading himself thin that he'd not realized the date or its significance until that very moment.   "I'm sure your mom knows that you loved her," he said all too knowingly.  He'd had his share of parental loss as well.

"I'm sure she does, Kid, but I still miss her.  I even miss the old man every once in a while," Tony mused while continuing to mechanically arrange the cookies onto a few large sheet pans.

"Like today?" Peter asked so quietly that he wasn't sure he'd been heard until he saw the man turn around and smile softly in his direction.

"Yeah, Buddy.  Like today," Tony affirmed and held out his hands as an invitation for the hug that he could tell the kid was itching to give him.  He didn't have to wait long before he had his arms full of Peter and smiled as the boy's hair tickled his nose.  "Thank's for keeping me company this evening," he whispered and then, without much thought, pressed a quick kiss just above the kid's ear.

"Anytime, Mr. Stark," Peter replied, his head still tingling where his mentor's lips had touched him.  And at that moment, he again wondered if he should tell the man about the ballet classes and the opening performance that would be taking place in two days' time.  He, like all of the other students, had a pair of tickets to give out.  The very first show was by invitation only and for most of the kids his age and younger, that meant having one for their mother and one for father, but he had neither.  He used to have May and Ben.  Then, for a while, it seemed like he only had May but maybe, just maybe he had a- well, a Mr. Stark now too.  But before he could decide, the silence between the pair was broken by the oven timer's relentless beeping, making it necessary for them to let go of one another.  

"So, should we pull out that study material now?" Tony asked as he scraped the small treats off of the cooling pan one by one and onto a plate.  "I can quiz you while we eat through these three dozen cookies."

Peter agreed, all thoughts of sharing his secret having wafted away with the smell of warm cookies, and went to find his notes.  He still had four more exams to take and he needed to be able to pass them.

Chapter Text

The next afternoon as Peter was swinging towards his apartment building to grab a snack and get ready to take the bus to rehearsal, his phone went off in his pocket.  He landed adeptly onto the fire scape that would lead to his bedroom and pulled the device out, sighing when he read the reminder.  The next day was the opening performance and any tickets that hadn't been distributed were to be turned in before the rehearsal began so that they could pass out the extras, via lottery at the end.  

Once he'd changed into his jeans and a heavy sweater he located the two paper tickets on his dresser and squeezed them in his hand.  He knew he could give the remaining ticket to Ned or maybe even MJ but the thoughts from the night previous were flooding his mind all over again and, suddenly, he didn't know what he wanted.  He looked at the clock on his bedside table and as luck would have it, not only was it early enough that May hadn't left for work yet, but he also had enough time to talk to her before they both had to take off in their separate directions.

"Aunt May!  I need your help!" he shouted as he skidded down the hallway, sliding across the hardwood floor in his socked feet.

After getting over the initial start that came from having her nephew, who she didn't even know was home rushing down the hall shouting, May eased her breathing and crossed the distance between them.  "What's up?" she asked, knowing it wasn't anything bad.  If it had been bad, he would have slunk into the room- quietly.  

"I have to turn in my extra ticket tonight," Peter announced with an urgency that May immediately misinterpreted.

"You didn't lose them, did you?" she asked, exasperation edging into her tone.  "I told you to let me keep them in my purse."

"I didn't lose them!  They're right here!" Peter defended, waving the partially crumped strips of red paper in front of her face.  "I just don't know what to do with the second one.  The Family Performance is tomorrow evening.  It's really too late to ask anyone, right?" he asked, unsure of what he wanted her answer to be.

Reading between the lines, May smiled softly and nodded her head.  "That depends.  I'm sure there are plenty of people who would make time for you if you asked them but do you mind if I make a suggestion?" she asked, cocking her head to the side when her nephew looked down at the floor as if he already had someone in mind.  She really hoped that were both thinking of the same person.

Peter glanced up from where he'd been staring at the tiny hole in his sock and sucked in a deep breath. "A-actually, I was thinking of maybe, possibly asking Mr. Stark but it's too late, right?  He's a busy man and probably has some sort of super late meeting or, or conference call with NASA or, a crazy important Avenger's thing, right?  It's a bad idea?  It's okay, you can tell me that it's a bad idea.  I can always ask Ned.  Or turn my extra ticket in-" he said all in one breath but before he could finish his aunt had her hand on his shoulder and was making an effort to stop him.

"Peter!" May called out and then waited for the nervously rambling teenager to snap his mouth shut before she continued.  "I think inviting Tony is a wonderful idea, I don't think he'd be too busy and even if he was, I am one-hundred and ten percent certain that he'd make arrangements to be there," she said.  There was no doubt in her mind.  She had every confidence that the man would be there if requested.  

"How can you be so sure?" Peter hesitantly replied.

"Because he's worried sick about you.  Do you know how many times I've had to talk that man down from the brink of a full-on mental breakdown, talk him out of tracking your phone, and convince him that he didn't need to give you the third degree?" May asked with a smirk and a tired wave of her hand that landed comfortingly onto the boy's shoulder.  "Sweetie, he loves you and would be so proud of you.  Just like I am.  Just like your Uncle Ben would be," she explained with the same unwavering certainty that she'd had from the very beginning.

Peter chewed on his lip and bounced his leg before spitting out the first question that popped into his head. "How do you know that he won't just think that I'm weird and not want to see me anymore," he asked, causing his aunt to puff out a small laugh of surprise.

"Peter, he knows that you're part spider.  Do you actually think that your dancing is going to be where he draws the line?" May asked with mirth, pulling a small laugh out of Peter as well.  "You're practically his kid, anyway.  He's obligated to accept your weirdness and attend all ballet performances from here on out.  Just go talk to him after rehearsal tonight," she encouraged, patting him on the arm and leaning forward to kiss the spot where his hair was falling over his forehead.  

"I guess," Peter replied, already backing away from his aunt and towards the closet that he's left his outwear in before going out as spider-man that afternoon.  He wasn't sure why he was so nervous.  May was right, Tony cared about him.  He gave him a hard time about brussels sprouts, mother-henned him about wearing a hat, and even went so far as to fuss about the kind of tissues he used to blow his nose into.  He supposed it wasn't a stretch that the man would want to be included on what was, really one of his biggest accomplishments, as just Peter. 

"And I can feel you thinking from here," May called out from where she'd begun to gather her own things. "The worst he can say is 'no' but I can assure you he won't.  -and don't let that get you all out of sorts tonight.  This is your last-" she began but was unsurprised when her nephew cut her off in a hurry.

"-rehearsal before opening night, I know," Peter finished in a rush.  He was already somewhat nervous about that and knew that he needed to set his concerns about what he was going to say to Tony aside until after he'd been released from their big practice run.  "I'll be fine.  Thank's Aunt May," he said with far more calm than he's started with and went to pull on his shoes, coat, and, of course, Tony's hat before heading out the door.

Walking into the performing arts center to find all of the costumes hanging up in the dressing room and the stage all set up and ready was slightly nerve-wracking but in the best possible way. Since his part didn't take place until the second act, Peter tried to find a relatively empty corner to sit down and visualize his part but when he couldn't seem to sit still, he gave up and went to help wrangle and quieten some of the smaller dancers.

It felt as though no time had passed at all when he was given his cue and walked to the wings to wait for the exact note that would precede his entrance to the stage.   The moment he heard it he glided forward to meet his partner.  He was sure he'd missed a step because his timing felt off and it took everything in him not to call out that he wanted to backtrack and try again.  But he was in his costume, reminding him that those kinds of opportunities had passed.  He needed to move forward and so he did, allowing himself to seamlessly finished his performance both with his partner and his solo.  He was beaming with delight by the time he exited the stage and couldn't seem to stop smiling.  Then, all at once, he was excited to tell Tony everything.  He wanted the man who had become such an important part of his life to see what he'd accomplished and he could hardly wait for the end of the announcements to wrap up so that he could get to his phone.

'Are you busy?' Peter messaged the moment he had the opportunity and then dropped his phone, with the intention of changing out of his costume while he awaited a reply.  However, he'd only gotten one arm loose when a return message started flashing across his screen.

'Define busy,' he read to himself, mildly frustrated by his mentor's lack of an actual answer.  Though he really shouldn't have expected it to be any other way.

'I'm serious Mr. Stark! Can I come over? I need to talk to you about something,' he sent back, hurridly tacking on the clarification of, 'In Person,' before the man could give him a hard time about how they were already talking or something equally cheesy.  It never occurred to him that his choice of words would be misconstrued until he received three new messages all in rapid succession.

'You good?' popped up on his phone within seconds followed by, 'What's going on?' and 'I don't have any stats on you.'

Despite the fact that he was he'd just pulled his shirt over his head, Peter left if hanging loosely around in his neck in favor of placating his mentor.  The last thing he wanted was for the man to decide to track his phone before he had a chance to talk to him. 'I'm fine.  Not in the suit.  Can I come over though?' he questioned and when he received an affirmative he slowed down marginally, taking his time to neatly hang his costume, organize his locker in preparation for the next evening's show, and tossed the personal items that needed to be washed into his backpack.

On his way out the door, Peter paused beside a table that was topped with stacks upon stacks of programs that had been printed onto glossy paper.  The first page was dedicated to the leadership teams, followed by a couple of pages filled with the sponsor logos and information about the performing arts center and the school that was attached to it.  After that was where student names began and his was right there towards the bottom of the very first page.  

He didn't know if he was supposed to or not but seeing as there was no one around to ask, Peter tucked the booklet into his backpack and headed towards the bus stop.  He considered putting on his suit purely for the sake of getting to the tower more quickly but he wasn't sure he wanted to change clothes in the snow.  He was just thankful when he didn't have to wait long.  That meant that he was walking into the tower in less than twenty minutes' time.

As he stood outside of the lab door, Peter's nerves began to return and he had to take a steadying breath before walking inside.  "Hey, Mr. Stark," he said, not even slightly surprised that his mentor was waiting for him just inside.

"Hey, kiddo.  You alright?" Tony asked, as his eyes scanned the boy's body for any indication of injury.  When he saw none, he eased up and crossed the room to place a calming hand on the back of the squirrely teenager's neck.  

"I'm fine, I promise, Mr. Stark.  I just wanted to come by to tell something," Peter answered as he shifted on his feet.  "It's a good something and I probably should have told you, like, months ago but- well, I don't know but I want to tell you now."
  

'Finally', Tony thought to himself with a sigh of relief because even with May's reassurances, he really wasn't sure how much more of the kid's shifty behavior he could ignore without any kind of a real explanation.  It took a lot of effort to not dramatically throw his head back and shout, 'It's about time!' Instead, he chose to focus on the way the teenager had pulled the hat off of his head and was twisting it anxiously in his hands.  "Alright, Buddy, calm down.  I'm listening," he said, removing the hat from the kid's enhanced grasp and leading him towards the couch in the corner of the lab.  

Once they were seated, Peter dug through his backpack and pulled out the program.  Though, with the hat having been removed from his hands, he instantly began to fidget with it instead, rolling and unrolling it without thinking.   "Well, um, I guess, I guess I should start at the beginning-" he finally said, then looking towards his mentor for some kind of support.

Tony nodded his head as the boy paused and reach across them to give his knee a squeeze.  "Deep breaths, Kiddo.  It's just me, and you said it's good stuff right?" he asked, unsure if he was reassuring himself or Peter but when the kid nodded his head he smiled.  "Well, let's hear it then."

Peter smiled back and took a deep breath in through his nose.  May was right; Tony would be happy for him and all he had to do was say it.   "I've been taking ballet since I was five and I really like it but I didn't want to say anything until now because I'm in production this weekend and I really want you to see me dance unless of course you're busy or you just think it's weird and don't want to come-" he rambled without pause, his word fading towards the end.

It took several seconds for everything that the kid had said to sink in but when it did, Tony cocked his head to the side. "I took tap dancing," he said, hoping that in a roundabout kind of way, that would be enough for the teenager to realize that he had nothing to worry about.  He wasn't about to judge someone for doing what they enjoyed.  Especially his kid.  

"Huh?" Peter returned with a shake of his head.  Not because he'd not heard what the man said so much as it had taken him by surprise.  

"Tap dancing. I took tap dancing classes when I was in boarding school," Tony explained with a shrug of his shoulders.  "During your last four years you had to take an art and a music class as well as one other creative discipline, four classes total, at minimum to graduate and for some reason, I picked that."  He still didn't know what had possessed him to take up that class versus, literally any of the other offerings but he'd never once regretted it.  It was a unique experience for him.

"Oh, I didn't know that," Peter said, still blinking back at his mentor with mild confusion.

"You wouldn't have.  I've never really told anyone.  It was only two years' worth of classes and I never really did anything with it once I started MIT," Tony replied and then waved the subject of himself away with a flourish of his hand.  "But let's talk about you. I think somewhere in that word vomit you just spewed was something about you wanting me to see you dance."

Peter blushed a deep red as he uncrumpled the booklet he'd been toying with and handed it over.  "Yeah. I have a scholarship to the Performing arts school that's associated with the J.Leavell Performing Arts Center.  It's actually not too far from here but, um, every year they put on a production of The Nutcracker, and I got a really good part this time.  Like a really, really good part," Peter began to explain, "I'm the, well, do you know the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy?"

Tony smiled and nodded his head. He really didn't know that much about ballet in general but he'd been to see the Nutcracker once or twice as a child and certainly knew the music well enough, so he went with that. "I think I'm somewhat familiar with it," he said, flipping through the pages until he found Peter's name and smiled at the small accompanying photograph.    

"Well, I'm her cavalier.  That's the, uh, the male partner in a pas de deux.  I dance with her and have a solo too, which is actually sort of neat because my part of the dance is called the Tarantella," Peter explained, gaining confidence and becoming more enthusiastic as he spoke. "-and Tarantella is a derivative of the Italian word 'Tarantola' which means tarantula.  So, I'm basically doing the dance of the spider.  That's pretty cool, right?"

"Sounds exceedingly appropriate," Tony laughed as he closed the program and looked at all of the smiling faces plastered across the cover. "So when's the show?" he asked.

Peter tensed a little at the question because that was where he assumed things would get difficult, seeing as the show he hoped his mentor would be able to attend was happening in less than twenty-four hours' time.  "There's three actually.  One on Sunday afternoon, one Saturday night, and then there's one that's for like, parents and stuff tomorrow night at seven and I was sort of hoping that you could come to that one.  Aunt May will be there and I really want you to be there too.  If you want to be, I mean," he said with his head hung low and a bright red ticket crinkled up in his fist. 

Tony smiled fully and pried the paper from the teenager's hand, smoothing it out over his knee.  "Kid, I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world," he said softly and was rewarded when he saw the boy's shoulders relax significantly.  "Come here, Kiddo," he then encouraged, wrapping the teenager up in a tight hug. 

With the ticket uncreased he could read the words 'Family Performance' scrolled across it in cursive lettering and understood the significance of the invitation.  They were family now and he couldn't wait to see what his kid could do.

Chapter Text

Peter returned to his apartment on Thursday night feeling lighter.  He'd not realized how heavy the secret he'd been keeping from his mentor had become until it had been lifted.  He almost felt as though he were floating as he walked through the front door, leaped towards his bedroom, and prepared for bed.  

He thought that sleep would be difficult to find considering how much was happening the next day.  He would complete his last three finals and exit the school, not having to return until after winter break, and just a few hours later he would dance across the stage for everyone to see.  Tony included and that was the part he was most excited about it.  It was hard to believe that he'd ever been so hesitant about sharing that part of himself with the man.  

Friday's classes kept him busy enough.  With his attention solely focused on competition the last of his exams he didn't have time to think about anything else until the last bell rang.  At that point, he wished it wasn't an early release day.  He still three hours to kill until it was time to meet up with the rest of the cast to get ready for the evening's performance.  Typically his go-to activity was patrolling but for some reason that didn't hold any appeal at the moment. He couldn't tell if it was because the pre-show jitters were setting in or if he was subconsciously worried that something Spider-man related would delay or prevent his ability to get to the performing arts center on time.  Either way, he chose to go home.  He still had a couple of presents to wrap and as an added bonus, May had taken the evening off and would be there to keep him company.  

"I'm home!" Peter called out as he walked through the door.  "Aunt May?"

"In the kitchen, Baby!" she shouted back, smiling when her nephew came into view.  "I thought that Spider-man might be taking the afternoon off," she said knowingly, stretching her hand forward to tap the teenager on the end of his nose.   "So, I made some gingerbread muffins."

Peter swatted the hand out of his face and took a deep breath in.  May liked to bake but there were very few things she could create that actually tasted good and oddly enough, gingerbread muffins were one of them.  It was a shame she only made them in December.  Her walnut-date bread wasn't nearly as tasty.  "With chocolate chips?"

"Is there any other way to make them?" May asked with a laugh as she tossed a mostly empty bag of morsels towards Peter, knowing he would catch it even if he wasn't looking.  

Happy for the distraction, Peter ate the handful of chips while his aunt took the muffins out of the oven.  They spent the afternoon eating them while sipping at mugs of hot apple cider and watching whatever sappy Christmas movie was playing on the local cable network.   It wasn't until the light through the window began to fade that he became antsy again and decided to take those last few minutes at home, taking a shower and gathering his things.   

Once he had everything together he grabbed a banana for the road and hugged his aunt good-bye but hesitated before exiting the apartment.  "I've got to get going.  You have your ticket, right, May?" he asked, eliciting a small laugh from across the room.

"Yes, Peter.  It's in my purse but I'm sure everyone there just recognizes me by now.  Don't you think?" she asked with mirth.  Peter had been with this same dance school for so long that she was on a first-name basis with nearly everyone there.  

"Yeah.  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.  That makes sense," Peter readily replied, stalling once more before turning to leave.  "Should I call and make sure Mr. Stark still has his ticket?"

May rolled her eyes and crossed the room so that she could pull the teenager into another warm hug.  "Do you really think that they would tell Tony Stark that he's not allowed in?" she asked, before planting a kiss right on the side of his head.  She could only imagine the amount of fuss that the man would kick up if they tried to deny him entrance.  There was a small part of her that would have paid money to see that.  However, she knew better.  "Besides, I'm willing to bet that he's had that ticket on his person at all times since you gave it to him."

"You're right.  I'm just-" Peter said, pulling away from his aunt and taking a deep breath.  "I don't know what I am but I'm going to be late if I don't get going.  Bye, Aunt May!  See you after!" he shouted as he darted out the door.

After attending all of the pre-show meetings and changing into his costume, Peter was left to wait for the program to start.  It was getting close to time and he could hear the people filing into their seats from behind the door that led into the auditorium.  Before he could stop himself, he ended up sticking his head out to see if his 'parents' had arrived, something the instructors had been actively trying to prevent the smaller children from doing but it didn't matter, he couldn't see past the first two rows on the one side.  So, he shut the door back before he could receive any kind of reprimand.

From there the evening went similarly to the one before it, only this time as he entered the stage, there was a split second that he could feel, not only the spotlight that was following him the eyes of everyone in the audience as well.  He didn't miss a beat.  The nerves that had been tingling up and down his body for the last several hours melted away with his very first step.  His attention falling to nothing but the music and his partner while his body did the rest.  The routine was so familiar that each movement flowed into the next by muscle memory alone.  Any thoughts of who might be watching him were gone for the duration of the piece.

It wasn't until he'd exited the stage that Tony, once again came to mind.  The rational part of his brain knew that the man had been there because he'd promised to be but there was a small part of him that just needed to see him there.  To the point that once he'd taken his final bow for the evening, his patience began to wear thin.  Focusing during the post-performance meeting was difficult and waiting for the smaller children to be signed out by their parents before he could be released was even harder.  Though the second he was given permission to leave, he was in the performing arts center's large lobby being greeted by his two favorite adults.

May spotted him first and shouted his name with glee causing Tony to around as well.  Peter smiled broadly as his aunt engulfed him in an excited hug and his mentor ruffled his hair.  He took a moment to absorb the affection before breaking free from one hug, in order to initiate another.  "Mr. Stark!  You came!" he said as the man wrapped his arms around him.

"Of course, I did.  I told you I would.  Were you seriously worried that Wouldn't?  I would have stood up the president himself to be here," Tony replied but before peter could respond or May could interject with a pleased, 'I told you so' the man was already spilling praises.  "You looked amazing up there, Kid!  I don't think I could possibly be any more proud of you."

"Me either, Sweetie," May echoed and then laughed.  "I know I say that every time but this time, I mean it."

Once the sentimental moment had passed, Tony squinted his eyes towards the outfit the kid had thrown on before coming out to join them.  "I do have one question though," Tony questioned with a grin. "What are you wearing now?"

"Oh!" Peter smiled back with enthusiasm and then looked down at the nutcracker that was knitted onto the blue sweater he'd worn that day.   "This is my Nutcracker sweater!  May gave it to me as an early Christmas present.  I think it's awesome," he said as he ran a hand over the two shiny button eyes and the long fuzzy beard that had been attached to it.

"Well it certainly suits you," Tony said with a fond shake of his head.  He wondered how many other holidays themed sweaters the kid had stowed away in his closet. 

After that, there were several minutes that Tony merely stood back and watched as May and Peter mingled with the other parents.  As luck would have it, no one recognized him.  Or simply didn't believe that Tony Stark had attended a school performance.  The fact that it was 'Parents' night had probably also been in his favor.  After all, it was common knowledge that he'd never had a child.  As far as the public knew, there was no reason for him to be there.  He hoped he could keep it that way forever.  While Peter wasn't his biologically, it was becoming very clear that he was his and if the media ever got wind of that, they'd have a field day.  He was just starting to come up with every possible way he could avoid that scenario when saw his kid skipping back over towards him.

"You hungry, Kiddo?  I know it's late but I bet we could find something that still open," he asked and was unsurprised when the teenager readily agreed.   He could only assume that the kid had only had a light dinner and that combined with his enhanced metabolism probably meant that he was practically famished.  "Well, go tell you're aunt that the carpool's leaving in the next five minutes and that you're riding with me," he added with a smirk, laughing outright when the boy gave him a mock salute and took off running.

Within the next half an hour, all three of them were sitting down in a greasy booth, at a wobbly table that was piled high with plates full of hashbrowns topped with everything imaginable, thick syrupy waffles, and heaps of scrambled eggs.   Tony and May chatted casually about ballet while Peter devoured the majority of the food and by the time he was slowing down, his mentor was changing the subject.

"So, what are your plans for Christmas?" Tony asked looking back and forth between the kid and his aunt.

"Since it's just the two of us, we tend to just hang around the apartment in our pajamas all day," May said, smiling at Peter who was sitting beside her. "We watch movies, open gifts, that kind of stuff."

Tony nodded his head and smiled.  "Well, if you're interested in breaking tradition, you could always come to the tower.  The, uh, the team will be there, well most of them anyway.  Barton will be spending the holiday with his brood and Rhodey will be with his mom but everyone else will be there.  You're welcome to be there too," he rambled, unsure if what he was offering was appropriate or not but the idea that he could spend the holiday with his kid felt overwhelmingly nice.  "What I'm trying to say is that, I would love for the two of you to come by and have Christmas with us.  If you want to," he eventually finished with a flourish of his hand, holding back the grin that threatened to spread across his face when the teenager's eyes lit up.

"Can we?" Peter asked, looking pleadingly towards his aunt.  

May smiled softly at the boy beside her and then turned her gaze towards Tony with an amused half-smile. "I'm going to say yes but only because I don't think Peter would forgive me if I said no," she teased but there was an undeniable twinkle in her eyes.

"Yes I would," Peter groused, with a roll of his eyes that turned back into a giddy smile within seconds.  "But it might take a while because who doesn't want to spend Christmas with the Avengers!"

"With me, Underoos.  You'll be spending it with me," Tony blandly replied, feigning more annoyance than he actually felt.  "Everyone else being there is just some sort of a- bonus or what have you," he flippantly added before holding his hands and winking at the pair across from him.  "I'm the main attraction."

May laughed and gently swatted her nephew on the arm. "Peter, stop giving your dad a hard time," she said, causing both boys to nearly choke on their drinks.  "What?" She asked, mock innocense coating her words as she looked across the table, meeting Tony's eyes. "You came to the Family Performance.  Using that ticket was like signing a legally binding contract.  You're my co-parent now.  That's how it works."

"I- did not know that," Tony hesitantly replied but he couldn't deny that as much as he pretended to hate it, he actually liked the idea of co-parenting with May. He liked the kid and already considered both him and May as part of his family so, in reality, it made sense.

"May!" Peter whined, a bright pink blush rising to his cheeks even though his heart fluttered happily at the mere mention of the man taking on a more paternal role in his life.

"And you just invited us over for Christmas," May continued, ignoring her nephew's flustered response. "That solidified it, Stark, and there's no taking it back."

Tony laughed and looked towards Peter who was anxiously tearing a single slide of toast into a pile of tiny crumbs. "You know what?  I'll take it," he said, getting up and squeezing himself onto the edge of the booth beside the kid and wrapping an arm around him.  "Pete, you're mine now.  May said so.  I'll call my lawyers in the morning so that we can change your last name and add you to my will," he said with a seriousness that Peter wasn't sure how to interpret.

"What?  I-" he stammered while trying to pull out of the man's grasp.  The problem was that there was no room for him to move as he was currently sandwiched between both adults in a seat meant to only accommodate two.

With a playful roll of his eyes, Tony gave the boy a side hug and went back to his place on the other side of the table. "I'm kidding, Pete," he said with an airy laugh.  "You're already in my will."

Looking at Peter, who was giving her a beseeching look, May chuckled and shook her head.   "Alright, that's enough.  Leave the poor kid alone, Tony," she said, then making an effort to shift the conversation back towards holiday plans before the man could say anything else.  "We'll be there for Christmas.  What time?"

Tony smiled, rose to his feet, and picked the check up off the table so that he could go to the register to pay.  "Eleven sound good?" he asked as he pulled a couple of large bills out of his wallet, with the intention of leaving a large tip.  "The team is going to have lunch together at noon and I've got a couple of gifts for the kid up in the penthouse."

Nodding in agreement, May leaned the side of her head up against her nephew's and smiled.  "We'll be there," she said, sitting up when Peter scrambled out of the booth to give Tony a hug and thank him for the invitation before they parted ways.    

Chapter Text

Peter woke up on Christmas morning with a childish glow that shown from his eyes to his smile.  He could hear May in the kitchen, signaling that she was already awake and hurried to get himself ready for the morning before joining her at the breakfast bar.  

"Morning, sweetie.  Merry Christmas," May said as she dropped a plate of slightly overcooked eggs and a portion of frozen french toast stick down in front of her nephew.  "Eat up.  Santa came," she added with a sparkle of her own.  Even though Peter had long since stopped believing in Santa, they'd never stopped the innocent charade.  It was fun and none of them had ever been willing to give up the tradition.

"Awesome," Peter said through a mouth full of french toast, smiling when his aunt sat down beside him with a plate of her own.  

After breakfast had been eaten and dishes had been stacked in the sink to be dealt with at another time, the pair turned on 'A Christmas Story' while Peter opened his gifts.  It wasn't a large stack, maybe half a dozen packages, several of which were t-shirts, but there was love wrapped in each and everyone and they were both grateful.

May opened her gift next and same as she did every year, she teared up at the amount of thought that had gone into it.  Peter had found a long since forgotten polaroid photograph of her and Ben, scanned it, cleaned it up, and printed it, then placing it into a carefully chosen frame. She looked at it for a while before setting it on the mantle for anyone who entered the room to see.

After that, the pair snuggled up on the couch, Peter covered in the plush blanket that he'd received just moments before and watched another movie before getting ready to leave.  As much as they had enjoyed how the quiet morning had been, Peter was eager to see Tony.  When he looked towards his aunt, he could see that she too was smiling.

When they entered the building, neither of them was quite sure where they were supposed to go but FRIDAY was helpful as always, informing them that Tony was waiting for them in the penthouse.  Peter exited the elevator first, dropping the armload of gifts onto the nearest surface in favor of hugging the man who had just greeted them with enthusiasm.

Tony looked over Peter's shoulder as the kid embraced him and smiled at the way May was smiling at them.  Then as he released his hold he looked down at the boy's sweater and sighed dramatically.  "You know I thought kids wore their PJs all day on Christmas," he said, eliciting a small laugh from both the teenager and his aunt.

"I thought about it!" Peter said with a wide smile.  "I get new ones every Christmas Eve, and this year it was a really warm Star Wars onesie but-"

"-Of course it was a onesie-" Tony interrupted with an affectionate roll of his eyes.  

"-But," Peter continued, a bit more loudly, "I decided to wear my Christmas Sweater instead.  May's wearing hers too."

Looking at May who had since removed her coat Tony could see that, sure enough, she was also wearing an overtly Christmas-themed sweater.  Though unlike Peter's, which had a cartoonishly proportioned reindeer splayed across a green background, her's was a red and white argyle with tiny sleighs and the words 'ho ho ho' poorly hidden in the pattern.

"How many of these things to you have, Kiddo?" Tony asked with humor, laughing when May hurridly pointed out that the one she was wearing was the only one she owned.  She went on to tell him that it had been a gift and while she didn't say from whom, he could surmise by the grin on the kid's face that it had been his purchase.  

"I have-" Peter said thoughtfully, tilting his head towards the ceiling as he silently counted them all out in his head, "- five, I think. But technically one of them doesn't fit anymore.  I just didn't want to get rid of it."

Tony huffed a laugh and shook his head.  "Alrighty.  On that note, I think we should head downstairs.  I bet the crew is already in the common room waiting for us," he said pausing when he noticed Peter picking up a large brown paper bag to carry with him.  

"Actually, I thought we would do our gifts up here after lunch," he said with what he hoped was a casual air.  Hanging out with the team would be fun but he really wanted to have some intimate time with just May and their kid.  He'd been looking forward to it since they'd accepted his invitation.

"I like that idea!" Peter returned, then turning to gesture towards the wrapped boxes on the couch.  "Those are for you," he said and then held up the bag in his hand, "This is for everyone else.  I didn't know I would be seeing them and I wanted to bring them gifts too. I know it's not much but May and I made some cookies and put them in some neat decorative mason jars."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Buddy.  I'm sure they'll all love that," Tony said with affinity and then took the lead, guiding all of them down to the common floor where the team was already sitting around the tree, happily talking to each other.

"Hey, would you look at that?  Stark and his little mini-me finally decided to show up," Sam called out from across the room before spotting May and getting up to cross the distance between them.  "You must be the famous Aunt May.  Peter talks about you all the time," he said, extending his hand and smiling warming.

"Only good things, I hope," May replied, and one by one the rest of the present Avengers all introduced themselves, Peter interjecting little bits of trivia in between.

After that things settled a bit.  The food that had been ordered arrived and everyone made plates to carry back into the living room.  Once they were all sitting, Tony announced that the room was too quiet, despite the constant chatter, and insisted that they turn something on while they ate.  Then the screen lit up and to Peter's horror, he realized nearly instantly that what was playing on the screen was a high-definition video of his performance specifically.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter nearly squeaked, his eyes having grown to the size of dinner plates.  It had been hard enough to tell Tony about his ballet and now the man was sharing that video with the entire team without his permission?  "Why would you do that!"

"Because it's amazing, Pete.  And I would have had it played on network television, but that would have required a lot more red tape than I had time to negotiate," Tony said with a dismissive wave of his hand before bringing his attention back to the group who were looking somewhat lost.  "That's The kid!  He's been learning ballet since he was tiny and I just found out about it! He's a veritable Billy Elliot," Tony eagerly explained, beaming as everyone's faces shifted from confusion to delight.

Despite his lingering mortification, Peter accepted the praise that rang out from around the room and nearly choked on his own spit when Natasha mentioned that she'd had years of training herself and would love to dance with him sometime.  As if hand to hand combat training with her wasn't amazing enough, now she wanted to partner with him?  However, before he had time to accept or even properly compose himself Tony was already fussing about how she wasn't allowed to steal his kid, causing the entire room to break out in laughter.

"I told you he would be proud of you," May whispered in Peter's ear causing him to sink further into the cushions. 

"Yeah, but I wasn't prepared!" Peter whispered back, his cheeks still shining with a rosy hue.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  Did I embarrass you?" Tony asked, nudging the boy in the arm. "I thought that was my job now."

"I-" Peter began but when no other words came he looked towards May, silently begging for her to jump in and save him but she was entirely too busy laughing to notice.

"-It's fine, kid," Tony chuckled, bringing Peter's attention back to him.  "In fact, I anticipated that.  which is why-" he said while simultaneously typing a few commands into his phone.   And with one final tap, the video on the screen changed to something less festive. "-I went and tracked this down."

Peter's eyes went up to the television, along with everyone else's. In the center of a stage lined with bright blue curtains was a teenager with slicked-back hair, wearing a suit-sans jacket, and a bright yellow dress shirt, tap dancing in time with the music.  One look at the boy's eyes and it hit him... "Oh my God- Is that you!" he nearly shouted, looking between the young dancer and his mentor who was leaning back on the couch avoiding everyone else's mirthful glances.

"Yup. Philips Academy Andover- The Spring Talent Show. I was fourteen. My parents were busy, as usual, so Jarvis came to video it for them," Tony casually explained, as he watched his kid watching him perform a mediocre routine to a song that was older than he was. "I thought that playing it for all to see, might be enough to convince you to forgive me for sharing your video," he added with a wink when the boy finally turned to look at him again.

"It's in color," Peter stated causing everyone in the room to laugh, save for Tony who took on an affronted posture.

"Of course it's in color! It was 1984," the man stained, glaring briefly around the room, zeroing in on Steve who seemed to be taking more pleasure in the kid's proclamation than anyone else.  "How old do you think I am, Parker?"

Having not really put any thought into his earlier observation Peter decided that he'd simply roll with it and smirked tauntingly. "I'm pretty sure that I read something about you having had a pet pterodactyl at some point," he said without missing a beat, crossing his arms smugly over his chest, when Tony's lips twitched upward for half a second. 

"You know what? I'm returning your presents. You get nothing from me," Tony announced but before Peter could react, everyone's attention was being drawn to the giant Christmas tree in the corner of the room.
 

"Speaking of presents," Steve said with a smile,  "Why don't we start opening some?"

Thoroughly distracted, Peter jumped up and yanked the large paper bag from off of the floor beside him. "Oh! Can I give out my stuff first!" he asked, already handing one of the homemade treats to Bruce, who had been quietly seated in the lounge chair nearest to him. "Me and Aunt May made enough for everyone!" 

Once Peter had distributed his gifts, Steve started passing packages around the room.  Peter was surprised to find himself being handed a few as well. He'd not really expected any of the Avengers to buy him anything but he was thankful for every shirt, trinket, and book he'd unwrapped.  Though, admittedly he liked the Avengers themed Uno cards that Rhodey had left under the tree for him the best.

Things started to wind down after an hour or so and as the rambunctious chatter began to fade into a comfortable silence, Tony stood up and held out a hand to help May up as well.  "Alrighty, this was fun and all but I think we're going to head up to the penthouse," he said, then looking towards Peter who was already three chapters into the novel that Bruce had given him.  "You ready. Pete?"

Peter hummed in response, nodding when the man's words finally processed and then hopped up off of the floor with an amount of ease that made Tony just a little bit jealous.  He wasn't as young as he used to be.  Then as quickly as thought had entered his mind, it left, as he guided the little family that he'd somehow been lucky enough to gain towards the elevator.

"Can I please give you my present first, Mr. Stark?" Peter inquired the second they stepped foot into the penthouse's wide living area.

"Nope," Tony replied, Popping the 'p' at the end for emphasis. "Kid's first."  But when it looked like Peter was about to further appeal he tsked lightly. "Nuh-ah-ah. No arguing, my house, my rules.  Now go grab that box on the right, over there," he directed, waving his hand towards the largest package under the tree.

Peter complied with only slight reluctance and pulled the large gift out to the middle of the room. "This one?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Does it have your name on it?" Tony questioned with a quirk of his brow.

"Uh," Peter eloquently replied, before checking the tag to see that it did, in fact, have his name on it.  Well, sort of.  'Underoos' had been scratched across a little snowflake shaped sticker.   "Yeah?"

"Then, yes. That's the one," Tony said with a fond roll of his eyes and then watched with interest as the boy's smile grew so wide that he didn't think it could get any bigger.  Though, once the kid had removed enough paper to realize that he'd been given an Imperial Star Destroyer Lego Kit, it managed to double in size, accompanied by a high-pitched squeal of delight.

May was next, followed by another, smaller gift for Peter.  That one hadn't been nearly as impressive, as far as Tony was concerned.  It was just a small teddy bear dressed in cloth Iron Man armor.  He'd bought it as a joke, really, but the kid seemed just as excited about it as he had the Legos, promising that it was going to live on his bed forever.  He shook his head and leaned back on the couch, grunting in surprise when May dropped a large gift bag in his lap.

"What is this?" Tony asked rather than pulling out the tissue paper as Peter was encouraging him to do from across the room.

"Everything you need to survive another week of parenting a teenaged vigilante," May said with a casual tone and a barely concealed smile.  

Tony balled up the paper and tossed it aside before looking at the assortment of items piled up in the bag. "Lordy.  Let's see here," he said as he blindly reached inside to start pulling things out one at a time.  "Camomile tea, raw honey, double chocolate truffles, rosemary eucalyptus bubble bath?" he listed off, shaking his head as he read the label on the latter.  Then he reached back in to grab the last two articles. "-A loofa and- did you seriously get me a pink, lavender-infused sleep mask?" he asked with a disbelieving look on his face.

"That bubble bath alone does wonders, Tony," May giggles in return. "-and I thought you could use a bit of relaxation," She continued outright cackeling when the man put the mask on and leaned back on the couch with a sigh.  

"You think this is funny?" Tony asked once he'd raised the mask to the top of his head so that he could glare at both May and Peter, who had joined in on the laughter. "Yeah, well, jokes on you because I'm using all of it," he quipped and was going to lower the mask back down, but before he could do so, he had another gift being thrust into his hands.

"Here!" Peter giddily shouted. "Now open mine!"

"Alright, fine.  I'll open yours," Tony said, yielding to the kid's enthusiasm.  He started to peel back the paper of what was obviously a shirt box and lifted the lid, expecting to find a shirt and tie.  That, however, was not the case.  "This is the tackiest thing I have ever seen my life, kid," Tony chuckled as he lifted the Iron Man themed Christmas sweater out of the box.  It was knitted to resemble the armor but there were snowflakes sporadically placed across it.

"It's not tacky.  It's fun," Peter declared as he reached over to press the arc reactor, making it glow a bright shining blue. "Plus, you needed a Christmas sweater for next year!"

"Well, tacky or not, it's from you and therefore I love it," Tony said with a smile that quickly turned to tease.  "In fact, I love it so much that I can't possibly wait until next year to wear it," he added and watched as the boy's face went from excitement to concern. "I'm going to come inside your school to pick you p while wearing it on your first day back!"

"Noooooo!" Peter came back with a dramatic whine.

"Yeees!" Tony countered, meeting the kid at his volume and then affectionately ruffled his hair. "You did this to yourself, Kiddo."

May who had been sitting back watching the antics decided that it was her turn to jump in and shouted, "I warned him!" causing her nephew to pout. 

Tony barked a laugh and pulled the sweater on over his t-shirt before, tossing another small package towards May, after which he allowed himself to be handed another small package as well.  That one containing a small framed photograph of himself and Peter goofing off in the lab.  They were both smiling and he could only assume that the kid had somehow managed to get FRIDAY to snap the picture for him because he had no recollection of them ever posing for a camera.  

There were a few minutes after where everyone sat around admiring their new things and enjoying each other's company.  Tony smiled at the domestic atmosphere and laughed to himself. Even a year ago he would have never imagined himself in such a setting but it was nice and he give anything for every Holiday thereafter to play out similarly.  He sighed contentedly and looked at the small tree set up by the hearth and was reminded of the one present that hadn't been opened yet.

"Hey, Pete? There's one left under the tree over there for you," he said just loud enough to be heard over the happy prattling.

Peter gave the man a confused look and glanced towards his aunt and over to the tree where a lone gift lay beside the stand. "But I already opened two," he said, not ungratefully but the man had already given him a huge Lego followed by a stuffed bear, and that already felt like a lot.  

"Do I look like a guy who would only buy his kid two gifts for Christmas?" Tony asked with a smirk and a haphazard wave of his hand.

Peter smiled, shook his head, and said thank you before pulling the box towards himself and slowly tearing the paper, finding nothing but a plain white box underneath.  He carefully pulled the top off and moved the tissue that was hiding the contents, letting out a small gasp when he finally got a good look.  

"This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen," he said with awe as he picked up the wooden nutcracker that he'd been gifted.  It was of a traditional shape, with a lever in the back to open and close the mouth and head topped with a hat, but unlike any other decorative nutcracker he'd ever seen, the one he was holding was painted to look an awful lot like Spider-man. "Where- where did you find this," he asked, turning it over in his hands and admiring all of the tiny details, from the spider emblem on the chest to the meticulously painted webs.

"I didn't find it.  I had someone make it for me," Tony explained, then tilting his head to the side in thought. "Well, for you.  For me to give to you," he corrected. He'd spent days finding just the right person for the job and paid them quite a bit of money to have it delivered to him in time.  The craftmanship alone had been well worth the price but the look on the kid's face made it that much more valuable.

"I love it.  I love it so much!" Peter said with sincerity.  He'd never seen anything like it and it but more than that, the thought that had gone into that particular gift was enough to make his eyes mist over a little.  

"Yeah?  Did you see what it says at the bottom?" Tony asked. "Because that part, I did that part myself."

Without further prompting, Peter turned the nutcracker over so that he could see the words that had been handwritten on the bottom of the base.  "For my favorite Sugarplum Spiderling," he read aloud, blushing brightly as he did so. The man had a least a dozen nicknames for him but for some reason that one, in particular, left him feeling slightly flustered. Just not in a bad way.  He was actually fairly confident that, like 'Underoos,' this newest endearment would grow to become one of his favorites.  Probably because they were both, by far, the most personal.  He was pulled from his thoughts when Tony started pressing him to read the rest.

"Go on, Kid," Tony encouraged.  He was looking forward to hearing the kid read the lat little bit, in particular.  "Let's hear it."

Peter shook his head and refocused on the task at hand.  "No matter what you put your mind to, you're amazing and I'm proud of you.  From, Tony," he finished with a small smile gracing his features.

Raising a hand to his ear, Tony grinned brightly. "From who?" he asked just to get the kid to say his actual name one more time.

"From, Tony," Peter repeated without thought.

"Ah-ha!  So, you can say my name!" Tony cheerfully proclaimed, rubbing hands together and scooting to the edge of the couch. "Wonderful! I will no longer be answering to anything else."

"I-" Peter stammered, as everything that had just happened clicked into place. Tony had just asked him to call him Tony.  Out loud.  To his face.  And while that felt a little unreal it also felt- right.  "Okay.  I guess I can do that."

"Good, deal.  Now, how about some snacks and eggnog- with rum for the grownups- and a Christmas movie," Tony suggested as he began wandering around the room gathering up the trash and shoving it into a bag. "Unless you need to head out, of course."

At Peter's eager insistence, his aunt easily agreed to prolong the afternoon into the evening.  He sat between Tony and May on the couch, eventually melting into Tony's side while his aunt Periodically rubbed his legs that were curled up beside her.  

The moment the credits began to roll, May looked towards the clock and sighed.  "I need to head out. I have work first thing tomorrow morning but the good news is that I still have Sunday off," she mused before standing up and slowly collecting her things. 

Peter stood up as well, but he made no effort to gather any of his gifts, instead, he approached Tony who had wandered into the open kitchen to start the coffee maker.  "Hey, Mr, um, Tony?" he said, waiting for Tony to hum in response before saying anything else. "Can I stay here tonight?  It's Friday and I usually do but I didn't know since it was a holiday and May said earlier that she didn't mind."

When Tony looked towards her, a silent request for confirmation, she nodded her head.  She and Peter had talked about it beforehand and she was more than okay with that arrangement.  She'd had an entire day with her nephew, including a few precious hours alone with him and that was enough for her.  Especially since she planned on eating dinner and going to bed when she arrived back at the apartment.  She had to be up before dawn.

As a result, Tony and Peter spent the remainder of the evening just being together.  They at leftovers for dinner watched a few cartoon holiday specials  and played several rounds of Uno while eating the last of the red and blue candy canes that had been hanging on the tree.   At some point, after the sun had set and the atmosphere had grown far more quiet, snow started to flurry past the large floor to ceiling window.   Peter noticed it first and went to stand by the chilled glass to watch it fall, Tony joining him with a mug of cocoa in each of his hands.  

They finished their drinks and retired to the couch where Peter leaned heavily against his mentor.  It had been a long day.  A wonderfully amazing, practically perfect day but he'd been up early and by the way the moon shining through the window he knew that it had to be late.  His suspicions were confirmed when he felt a thumb begin to rub little circles on his collarbone.

"It's late, Kiddo.  Christmas is almost over," Tony whispered, unwilling to disrupt the calm silence that had taken over the room.  "You should get to bed."

"Yeah, I probably should," Peter agreed with a yawn before standing up, Tony following suit and pulling him into a warm hug.  "G'night, Tony. Lo-" he started to say, but caught himself just short of telling the man that he loved him.  It was a habit.  Something he and May said to each other all the time but he quickly realized that he did love Tony.  He just wasn't sure if it was something he should say out loud or not, so he hurriedly changed his course saying, "I'll see you in the morning" instead.

With a soft smile, Tony turned his head to the side and kissed the boy right on his temple.  "G'night, Buddy," he echoed but rather than confirming that he would see the boy in the morning, he picked up where Peter had left off.   "Love you too."

Peter pulled away, blushing, and nodded his head.  Tony had read his mind, as always, but more importantly, he'd admitted that their feeling was mutual and despite the fact that it was two minutes past midnight, he was sure that those words were the best gift that the man could have possibly given him.   He was unable to hide the smile that was creeping across his face as he walked down the hall towards his room, giving his mentor turned surrogate father one last affection glance before clicking the door shut behind him.