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Peter had done everything right. It wasn't fair. His grades were awesome, his extracurriculars too. And he had managed all of that while still being Spider-Man, saving the universe - well, to a degree - and helping out people in Queens for almost 3 years now.
Not like he could put the last two things on a college application. Still, all the karma he had collected should help him out with this at least!
Above all, he had refused the shiniest apple of temptation of them all.
He had refused to get into MIT just because of Tony.
There was no doubt in his mind, that if Tony had made the call, he would have had gotten in even before early admissions. Because what else were they gonna do? Refuse Tony Stark? The dude whose September Foundation was financing a great majority of their students' research projects?
But no, instead Peter had to go on this rant, of what was right. This stupid ego trip thinking he'd get in just because... well, just because of his own merit. Because he was so great.
What an idiot move.
"Hey, are you listening to me?"
Peter's head shot up, then to the side. "What?"
MJ was leaning against the wall, her feet crossed while she was sitting on his bed. "I asked if your aunt is gonna be home for dinner tonight or if you'd want to get pizza?"
"Oh..." Peter frowned, fingers scratching the back of his head. "What day's today?"
She tilted her head at him. "Seriously, Peter... you okay? You seem a little distracted."
"I'm good, I'm good," he waved her off and turned his back, fiddling with the different pens on his desk.
MJ had gotten into Stanford. Early action. Pre-law. Peter had taken her out for Delmar's to celebrate because she had refused to go to the "tacky" Italian place.
Peter hadn't told her that he had gotten in too. Chemical Engineering at Stanford. He hadn't told anyone because that wasn't where he wanted to go. It had been a joke to freak out Tony. And now... what was he supposed to do now?
MIT had been his only real choice. And MIT was radio silent.
Pulled out of his thoughts once again, Peter's head snapped to attention as the front door of the apartment was pressed open, then slammed shut with a bang. Even MJ had heard it, sitting up a little straighter on his bed. Before either of them could do much more than send the other confused glances, the door to Peter's room flew open.
"Peter Benjamin Parker!" May was pointing a finger at him, her expression wild. "Take off your shirt."
Peter's jaw dropped in confusion. "Wh-what?"
"You heard me. Take it off, now!"
"May, I..." He shot a glance over at MJ, his cheeks burning brightly. "I... I don't know—"
"Tony called me. He said you've been dodging him for two weeks straight!"
If possible, Peter's face grew even hotter. "I didn't dodge him!" But his high-pitched voice was telling a different story.
"Stop lying to me! Did you get hurt again? I told you, after that incident in the warehouse that if you were ever that reckless again I would not hesitate and—"
"May!"
Peter held up his hand in defeat, at last able to breathe through the panic that had been threatening to suffocate him. His eyes flickered over to MJ and it didn't need more than that for her to get to her feet. She grabbed her jacket and quickly leaned in, placing a light kiss on his cheek.
"I'll call you later, okay?"
Peter nodded, his lips pulled into an uncomfortable but grateful grimace. He didn't move, not until MJ had close the door to the apartment behind her.
"Okay, just..." He blew out a breath. "Just let me explain, okay?"
May's arms were crossed in front of her, her expression serious.
"I didn't get hurt," he clarified right away, hoping that might have May retreat just enough to let him be. To underline his point, he pulled up his shirt and turned once on the spot, proving that there was not even a scratch on him.
May's face lost some of its fury and turned into light suspicion instead. She stepped a little closer, her hands frisking his arms and shoulders.
With a confused shake of her head, she stepped back. "Then why haven't you been in the lab? Did you guys have a fight?"
"No..." Peter cringed. Not yet. They would though, when Tony would find out about his application. They would when Tony would insist to call MIT because they had refused Peter.
It wasn't an option. If MIT didn't want him, well, then...
Peter rubbed a hand across his eyes, trying to shake off his irritation. "It's nothing like that, okay? I've been busy. "
"You've been busy?"
Peter shrugged. Busy ignoring his horrible life choices.
"It's senior year, May..."
He said it like that was suppose to mean something and May looked at him like she didn't buy a single word. Her eyes studied his face for a solid minute, waiting for Peter to break and just confess. When he didn't, she pulled in a deep breath and pushed out an exaggerated sigh, thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Listen, Peter, we have an agreement on how this whole thing is supposed to work if I agree to let you go out there. We've agreed because both, me and Tony need to have some kind of system to make sure you're staying safe."
He dropped his shoulders in annoyance. "I am, May! I swear, I—"
"When Tony Stark calls me in the middle of the day worried because you're dodging his calls, because he hasn't seen you for two weeks, then that's not what we agreed on Peter!"
Eyes on the floor, Peter's ears felt hot with embarrassment. "Okay, fine, I... I'm sorry."
"Do you know how that makes me worry? Having him call me like that?"
"I said, I'm sorry, May!" He shrugged his arms, leaning back against his desk. "What else do you want me to say?"
She pursed her lips, then checked her watch. "I have to get back to work. I want this cleared up when I get home."
Peter groaned, rubbing both hands across his face. This would be a nightmare.
"Did you hear what I said, Peter?"
"Yes. I heard you. I'll... I'll go down there and..." He pushed himself away from the table, intent to shove past her towards the door.
"Stop!"
Already outside of his room, Peter came to a sudden halt in the middle of the hallway.
"Turn."
His eyes pressed shut for a second, he did. May had followed him, standing right behind him, eyes narrowed.
"Don't look at me like that, honey. This one's on you. Now..." She waved him a little closer. "Give me a hug, come on."
His feet slurping along the floor, Peter stepped right into her arms, his forehead flopping onto her shoulder.
"I love you..." She pushed him a little toward the door by his shoulders. "Now, go before that man loses his mind entirely and I have to explain to the neighbors why we have a bunch of drones hovering outside our windows. Again."
His hands buried deep in his pockets to protect them from the harsh December winds, Peter made his way down the street to the subway station. Sure, he could have changed into the suit. It would have been much faster, but he didn't really want to get there fast at all.
All he had wanted was a little time to make up his mind about what to do. Well, that wasn't entirely true. All he had needed was a little more time to accept the inevitable. A little more time to give up on his dream.
In all fairness, he should be elated. Stanford was an amazing school. An Ivy League school even. The courses they offered weren't all that different from MIT and he knew for a fact that SI had a facility in Palo Alto. Even if Tony was going to be annoyed with him at first, he'd calm down, right? He'd let him do some research there, surely?
Plus, MJ would be there. They wouldn't be stuck at opposite ends of the country.
By the time Peter had reached the foot of the Tower, his mind was made up. Stanford was good, actually. He was lucky and he was going to be happy about it.
"Hi, FRI..." he mumbled as the elevator doors closed behind him.
"Good afternoon, Peter. Mr. Stark is in the penthouse."
Peter scrunched up his nose. If he was in the penthouse, he was too distracted to work. That wasn't a good sign.
When Peter got up there, he found him in the kitchen, bent over the coffee maker that had been dismantled entirely, different parts scattered all over the floor. Not a great sign either.
Shuffling from one foot to the other, Peter watched him for a bit, waiting. He hated it when people interrupted him in the middle of a work step and if he was pissed already, Peter had no interest in making this any worse. But no matter how long Peter stood there, hoping for a signal of some sort, he didn't look up.
"Er... Hi," Peter mumbled, to little or rather no effect. He scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat before he tried again. "Erm... Mr. Stark?"
His screwdriver dropped to the marble floor with a bang as he turned around, his face a little paler.
"I... I mean..." Peter cleared his throat. "Hi... Hi, Tony." He cringed at himself. "May er... she said you'd called and so, I... I thought I should stop by."
Tony narrowed his eyes on him. "Thought you'd... stop by?" One of his eyebrows arched up as he got to his feet. "Is that teenager-speak for your aunt kicked your ass and made you come down here?"
"No..." Peter mumbled, his face hot.
Tony crossed his arms. "You're a horrible liar, kid."
"I don't... I mean... erm... I have news." Peter sucked in a deep breath, his shoulders pulled back, head held high. "I'm going to Stanford."
Just like that, silence had fallen in the loft.
"You..." Tony shook his head. "What are you talking about? Like for the weekend?"
"What? No, I..." Peter swallowed hard. "For College. Stanford accepted me on the Early Action program for chemical engineering."
"You..." Tony's face was blank, mouth hanging a little open. "You applied to Stanford? That—"
"Exactly." His hands were shoved in his pockets to keep them from shaking. "And they accepted me. So, I decided, I'm going."
"No, you're not," Tony blurted out with a laugh like it was a ridiculous idea.
Peter pulled his hands out of his pockets balling them into fists. "I am." He tried to stand tall, meet Tony's eyes head-on but it was still hard to stomach that this would be his future. "It's a great school and it's California, so that's cool. And MJ is—"
"Peter, what... that's bullshit. You'll not go to Stanford or the West Coast for that matter. Why would you—"
"Listen, I know you wanted me..." He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "...in Boston but it's not gonna happen, okay? I made my peace with it. So, you should too!"
Tony's mouth clapped shut. He blinked a couple of times, then stared to the side for a moment before he frowned at Peter. "If this is your attempt of getting out of your lecture on how you dodged me for two weeks straight and all the nightmare scenarios I imagined, I'm gonna say, nice try, but this is—"
"No, it's not! This is my decision, okay? And I've made my decision." His hands balled into fists, he turned back toward the elevator, then stopped and pointed a finger back at Tony. "You know, I knew you'd be like this. I knew you wouldn't be able to just let me do what I want to do!"
"Peter..." He huffed out a laugh, his arms raised in obvious amusement. "This is not what you want to do."
"Well, not all of us have the luxury to just pick whatever we want to do, okay?" His face was hot and he hadn't really noticed that he had raised his voice that much, not until he watched Tony's face fall.
"Oh," Tony mumbled. "Oh, fuck, buddy, listen—"
But Peter had already turned back towards the elevator. He just wanted to get out of there. He didn't need Tony's pity.
"Kid, wait! Just, fuck... FRI, close the doors."
The elevator had only opened a few inches before the door slammed shut right in front of Peter's nose. He slapped a hand against it, fighting harder and harder not to let his emotions bubble out of him.
His breath hitched nonetheless. "You can be such an asshole you know that?"
"Alright," Tony sighed. "I might deserve that one. Can you just tell me about it over in your room?"
Peter's eyes were burning and he wanted nothing more than just curl up somewhere and just be alone. With fast long steps, he strode towards his room, if only so he could slam the door in Tony's face and have somewhere to hide.
What he hadn't expected was what awaited him in his room. There were three piles of sweatshirts and hoodies, t-shirts, all of them carrying the MIT lettering. There were posters on the wall of the campus in Cambridge and a map of Boston. Even the sheets on his bed sported huge MIT letters.
The tears that had been burning in his eyes were finally overflowing. He did a 180° and only Tony blocking the door frame kept him from leaving.
"Hold on, kid..."
"I can't believe you did this," he sobbed. It hurt way worse than he had thought it might, the realization of what his dream would have looked like, and now, he would never have that. To lose it all was bad enough but to have Tony watch, was one hundred times worse.
"Okay, just..." Tony sighed, steering him towards the desk by both shoulders. "Can you just take a look at this before you turn all Maleficent on me?"
Peter rubbed his lower arm across his eyes, sniffing pathetically as he finally saw what Tony was talking about. There was an envelope on the desk that had Peter's name and address on it. His name and address and the MIT logo.
"What... what is that," he mumbled.
Tony groaned. "Just open it already, will you?"
Shaky fingers slowly ripped open one end of the envelope. There was a whole stack of documents in it.
"Dear Peter," he read, his voice shaking. "On behalf of the Admission Committee, it is my pleasure to offer you admission to the MIT class of—"
He stopped, sucking in a trembling breath as his eyes went back to the beginning of the letter, rereading it again and again.
"Kid," Tony asked, his voice soft.
Peter shook his head. "What... what is this?"
"I mean, I haven't read it but I'm gonna go for MIT offering you early admission?"
"But..." Peter's mind was blank. He didn't understand. "But how is this here?"
"Listen, I realize now that this might have not been the best plan, but—"
"Did..." Peter turned towards him. "Did you go through our mail?"
"Hey," Tony pulled up his hands in defense. "I was just going to call them and make them send it straight here, but you said I'm not allowed to call!" Tony shrugged up his hand, the expression on his face seemed actually serious. "I'm not sure what other options I really had here."
"What other..." Peter gaped at him. "How long have you had this?"
Tony grimaced. "Couple of weeks?"
"Oh... my god..." Peter stared at him, his mind refusing to come up with anything intelligent to say.
"I just..." Tony blew out a sigh. "I just wanted to see your face when you get in and I, well, I didn't realize you'd not show up for two weeks straight, did I? I mean, that has never happened before!"
"I..." Peter blinked at him, his eyes flickering back down to the letter he was still holding. There was a subtle tingling in the tip of his fingers. "I really got into MIT?"
Tony's features softened. He stepped a little closer, one arm on Peter's shoulder. "Of course, buddy. They're not idiots." He rolled his eyes then smirked at Peter. "You're a hell of a smart kid!"
The realization of what this meant hit him all at once. Joy bounced off Peter just like he bounced off the ground right into Tony's arms. With a laugh, Tony pulled him close, a hand ruffling his hair.
"See, this is more like what I was picturing—ow!"
Tony let go of him, rubbing the shoulder Peter had just punched.
"This was so not cool, Tony! You almost made me commit to Stanford!"
"Hey, you made me think you got hurt so bad that you couldn't show your face here for two weeks straight!"
Peter cringed. "Call it even?"
With a laugh, Tony pulled him back into a hug. "Fine..." He squeezed him tightly, pressing a kiss against the side of his face. "I'm so glad that the genius kid came back because I really need some saving with that coffee maker before Pepper comes home."
Peter snorted against his chest. "You'll need an army of genius kids to put that thing back together!"
Tony blew out a deep, dramatic sigh. "Well, maybe you could at least try to grace me with your superior, MIT-approved input."
Peter giggled, as Tony slung an arm around his shoulder and led him back out to the mess he had made in the kitchen.
"Now," Tony's voice dropped into an ominous whisper. "What will I have to do to make sure that aunt Hotti never hears about this?"