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“Hi,” Peter grins broadly into the phone.
“Peter,” Tony presses out, “Mind telling me your current location?”
“Uh, Ned’s?” He frowns at the stupidity of the question because he can clearly see his friend standing right in front of him, though, it’s weird that he’s decided to stand upside down. “Hi Ned.”
“Hi Peter,” he replies with a small giggle, then into the phone Peter is holding, “Hi Mister Stark, sir. We’re at my place. Peter said he was supposed to be sleeping over at your place tonight and I think he’s a little scared of May.”
“Where did I go wrong to have turned out less scary than the aunt?” Tony mumbles to himself in only half faked despair. He trumps through the living room in search of his stupid car keys, hits his knee on the coffee table and swallows down a curse.
Now both boys on the other end of the line start giggling. “Have you met Aunt May, Mister Stark? She’s scary.”
“Right. I’ll be with you in about 15 minutes, don’t move. At all. F.R.I.D.A.Y. end call.”
Ned and Peter are still breathless from laughing but Ned stares down at Peter who has curled up on the floor with his phone as a pillow.
“What does he mean with don’t move, Peter?” he looks around the room in panic, then at his feet. “I can’t not move for 15 minutes. Do you think he’ll know?”
Peter cracks his eyes open at his friend, “Mister Stark knows everything,” he assures him and yawns before suggesting, “you could lay down on the floor with me and we’ll act like you’ve been here all along. I promise I won’t tell him.”
“You’re the best friend ever!”
Careful not to disturb anything else in the room that could give them away, Ned kneels down and then let’s himself fall the final distance, landing across Peter’s stomach who groans and weakly punches his friend in the back. Then he shuffles around until he’s comfortable again.
Ned looks to the side to meet Peter’s gaze, a frown sitting between his eyebrows, “Do y’think you can do a crunch with me laying on top of you? ‘Cause you’re Spider-Man?”
Peter tries to consider that for a moment but his brain is tired and bleary. It might be easiest if he just tried – ah. “I can’t do a crunch like that,” he finally says proudly, “cause you’re on my stomach and I can’t move.” He thinks that over for another moment. “I could probably lift you, though.”
“Really?” Ned’s eyes light up at the possibility. “With one hand?”
“I think so,” he nods but only pats his friend’s hair. “’M really lazy, though.”
“Yeah,” Ned agrees, “but tonight was fun, wa’n’t it?”
“Hm. I didn’t think so many people would come.”
“There were only four more people here, Peter.” Ned snorts and immediately starts coughing when he chokes on his own spit. He rolls around on Peter’s stomach who groans again and pushes his friend off of him in revenge.
“Four is a lot,” Peter glares, “and I’ve never played beer pong before.”
“And you probably never will again. You’re way too good at it. But it is crux –“ he frowns, “crux – crucial,” he finally corrects with a grin, “preparation for college.”
“I don’t wanna go to college. Good thing, MJ brought Jenga with her. That was fun.”
“Right!” Ned agrees enthusiastically. “Wait why don’t you wanna go to college.”
Peter rolls onto his back. “Dunno. I like New York. I like how everything is right now.”
“There’s colleges in New York, dumbo.” Ned pokes him in the side. “And y’know that y’can’t stay in school forever, right?”
“I could become a teacher’s assistant and stay until the day I die.” Peter giggles. “No, I don’t wanna do that.” He’s about to say more when a heartbeat approaches the apartment door and he very suddenly sits up with excitement. “Mister Stark’s here.”
“Oh my god,” Ned breathes out, eyes wide in both horror and wonder, “Tony Stark knows where I live.” His eyes grow even wider and his mouth forms an ‘o’. “I disobeyed a direct order.”
The doorbell rings and for a long second both boys just look at each other before both scramble to their feet and make a run towards to door at the same time, repeatedly clashing on their way there. Peter eventually jumps to the ceiling and closes the last distance, drops back down and breathlessly opens the door.
“Hi Mister Stark,” he greets and lunges forward for a hug which Mister Stark rather awkwardly complies to.
He pats his head, “Hi Pete. You boys doing okay?”
“Yeah, Mister Stark, sir,” Ned now joins in, hands on his thighs to recover his breath. Peter just nods enthusiastically.
“We had a lot of fun. With so many people.”
“Four people, Peter,” Ned corrects him again, “But I didn’t move at all, Mister Stark.”
Finally, Mister Stark seems to loosen up a little and the corner of his lips tug up ever so slightly when Peter vigorously nods, again. “At all.”
“Well, I’m sure that must’ve been a fun evening.” Sarcasm is dripping from every syllable but neither boy notices and they just keep on smiling happily. And, Tony Stark might be portrayed as cold-hearted but he has enough heart to not take that happiness away. They were kind of cute like that.
“Okay, Pete. You’re ready to leave?” He spares a thorough look at what he can see of the apartment and is pleasantly surprised when he can’t see much out of the ordinary. “Will you be okay on your own, Ned? Or do you want to come along?”
Ned stares at him and silently moves his head from right to left.
“I think he’d like to but his parents will be back tomorrow and he wants to get some cleaning done tomorrow before they get here,” Peter explains. “Or he’s having a stroke.”
“Yeah, I doubt that,” Mister Stark looks down at his kid in amusement, then back up at Ned. “Are you sober enough to be on your own?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Ned salutes and barely even sways.
He eyes him critically for a few more seconds before relenting. “Alright. Call Peter if something doesn’t feel right and we’ll come back for you.” Then, because he can’t resist a little teasing at the boy’s expense, “Have fun cleaning tomorrow.” And, because he’s only half heartless, adds, “Have a good night’s sleep, drink lots of water and get a hefty breakfast tomorrow and the hangover shouldn’t be too bad.”
“Thank you, Mister Stark! Bye Peter!” He waves. “Love ya.”
Peter smiles broadly and waves back, “Love ya! See ya!”
Back in the car Peter sinks into the pre-warmed, soft leather seats with a content sigh. He has closed his eyes before Tony has even gotten into the driver seat.
Despite himself, when he turns to Peter who might as well be sleeping, he smiles softly and pulls the blanket from the backseat that he had grabbed from the couch in a hurry before leaving. He makes sure Peter is strapped in, then strains a little to put it around his shoulders but is rewarded with a sincere yet tired thank you.
“You’re welcome, buddy. You feeling alright?”
“Yeah,” Peter nods, “Just a little woozy.” He blinks his eyes open just as Tony puts the car into drive and eases out into the sparse traffic. “You’re not mad?”
He sighs. “No, I’m not mad.”
“Hm. Thought you might be.”
“I thought about it.” He stops on a red light and looks to the side, amused, “You were worried that I might be mad and you’re still more scared of your aunt?”
“Pff,” Peter makes an indiscernible noise, “’M not scared of aunt May.” He yawns, then rubs at his eyes and sits up just a little bit straighter. Which is still not very straight at all but is pretty much how he always lounges around in cars. “She’s sleeping,” he explains, “’cause she had a long shift and I didn’t wanna wake her up. But I didn’t wanna walk home alone. Your sleep schedule is messed up anyway. I thought,” he yawns again, “I thought I might not even wake you up.”
“You’re a very good kid, kid.”
Peter preens blearily and some of the subconscious tension seeps out of his muscles. “That why you’re not mad?”
Tony laughs quietly and spares him a quick look. “Yeah,” he says eventually, looking back at the street and gently drumming a random rhythm on his steering wheel, “I thought about being mad. Was my first instinct actually. Go figure, I guess.”
“You’re a good person, Mister Stark.”
He smiles but doesn’t comment. “I had some quiet time to think about it on my way here and you went very responsibly about illegally drinking. You were with people you trust in a safe place,” he counts on his fingers, “you did not go overboard, were still responsive and smart enough to call me instead of staggering home in the dark and you had a good time.”
“You’re not mad ‘cause I had a good time,” Peter grins victoriously, “I have so many good times, Mister Stark. So many. And Dum-E, too. You can never be mad at us again.”
At that, Tony laughs, “Nice try but watch me be mad next time the two of you set my lab on fire.”
“But you set your lab on fire all the time,” Peter laments.
“Yes, but as you very rightly recognized – It’s my lab.”
They’re quiet for a while after that. Peter is dozing and Tony is trying to put a lot of thoughts and feelings into words he always evaded to even truly think about. Turns out that’s harder than it sounds but the late hour and comfortable silence (and, admittedly, his sleep deprivation) finally prompt him forward.
“My first instinct was to be mad because I’ve got issues.” Peter snorts, then immediately covers his mouth with his hand which Tony just decides to take for an apology and keeps going. “Because when I used to get drunk I never did it very responsibly and very rarely in good company. It became a problem.”
He taps the steering wheel more forcefully, then stops and grabs it tightly. He inhales deeply, holds his breath, lets it out and relaxes his hold.
“And I realized that I was only mad because I was worried. I was worried you’d end up like me.” He looks over to the side at the next red light and it’s almost comically how deliberately attentively Peter is trying to listen even though he has to force his eyes open to stay awake and focused.
“But then I realized that you’re nothing like me,” he continues and sets the signal to turn left onto the ramp leading to his penthouse’s parking garage. Peter looks like he wants to protest but Tony doesn’t let him. “And I don’t mean that you’re not at least as smart and innovative and a superhero and all that crap. Sorry. I mean that you’re not alone and that you know that. The very fact that you decided to call me tonight tells me you’re on a way better path than I ever was.”
He turns off the engine and turns towards Peter as fully as his seatbelt allows. “So, I decided if I wanted to keep those issues from you, the best thing I could do was to not be mad. Especially because you did nothing wrong.”
Peter is still looking at him with intently, though his eye lids are slowly but surely falling close. He’s nodding slowly. “Except for the illegal drinking part.”
“Yeah,” Tony laughs, “Except for that.”