Chapter Text
“Peter! Come back here, young man! This is not over!” Steve’s voice follows Peter down the hallway as he storms off towards his room.
"I don't want to, pops! Can't you just let it be?! You don't understand me at all!" He yells. His voice cracks at the end of the sentence and it sounds pathetic even to his own ears. The sound riles him up further.
Peter doesn’t stop and he doesn’t look back when he finally reaches the door to his room. He throws it closed and locks it before his father can come in and demand an explanation. The teenager flops down on his bed and buries his face in his pillow, fully intending to pout in peace without anybody seeing him. Especially not his father.
“Peter, open the door. We need to talk.” His pops knocks on his door. His voice is calmer now, if still tense. But Peter is in no mood to talk to him now. So he doesn’t answer, just puts his headphones on and starts his ‘I don’t want to see or hear anybody so go and fuck yourself’ playlist. He is already grounded. He is allowed to not care.
For a long time nothing happens, and Peter just lies there. Then there’s a piece of paper pushed in through under the door. Peter looks at it and ignores it for now. He turns around to face the wall opposite of the door and stares at the posters there with his arms crossed over his chest.
Black Sabbath’s Loner is playing and it doesn’t help to lift his spirits one bit.
Peter hates it. He hates it all.
He hates Mr Harrington who called his parents. He hates Flash who ratted him out in the first place. He hates Vanessa who always looks at him like he’s dirt under her heel. He hates that his parents don’t understand him. He hates that he can’t tell Ned because Ned is so in love with his girlfriend that he completely ignores him. Peter hates it all.
Maybe he doesn't hate MJ, who is supportive if she isn't busy making fun of him.
And what Peter hates the most is that Wade never looks at him like he looks at stupid Vanessa, when all he wants is for the other boy to notice him instead.
A tear rolls down from the corner of his eye to vanish in his hairline. Angrily Peter brushes it away with his sleeve. Being a teenager sucks. Being in high school sucks. Being in love sucks the most.
He is fifteen for fucks sake. Peter hopes that at least Tony will be able to understand how important Friday night is for him. His father has been to more parties than all of his aunts and uncles combined, but he isn't home yet, which leaves Peter and Steve. Dodger is home as well but he doesn't count. He's a dog.
On his desk are piles of papers, Legos and empty Mc Donald's food containers. Peter can maybe admit that he has been slacking a tiny little bit lately. But there are more important things than watering stupid plants or cleaning the kitchen.
Okay, maybe he has skipped school a few times over the last few weeks to hang out with Wade’s friends in order to get closer to him. Maybe he’s late in submitting his essays for history and Spanish because of that. Maybe he hasn’t cleaned his room in weeks. Maybe he forgot to do his household chores. Maybe he threw up on the bathroom floor because it was cool to drink even when he really doesn't like alcohol. But all that doesn’t justify two weeks of detention and being grounded for just as long!
Exasperated, Peter rolls over to stare at the ceiling like it has personally offended him. He needs to go to that party on Friday. Ned will be there without his stupid girlfriend. Sadly, stupid Flash will be there as well, seeing as the party is at his house, but Peter doesn’t care about that idiot as long as Wade will come as well. And he will be there. The blonde boy who always wore the same ripped black jeans and red hoodie had said so himself. Okay, so it wasn’t Peter who it was said to, but rather Wade’s best friend Weasel. The point still stands, though.
Wade transferred to Peter's school a year ago. He is loud, brass, and a notorious troublemaker...and Peter fell head over heels for him. Wade W. Wilson -his parents obviously have a weird sense of humor for naming their son like that- has dark blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a long scar on the side of his neck. He looks like the most cliché delinquent of all delinquent clichés. A part of his eyebrow is missing!
But despite his height and muscles he hasn't joined the football team, doesn't come to school late, and he doesn't pick on the younger students. He is smart, constantly bored by everything around him, knows more pop culture references than Peter, eats insane amounts of Mexican fast food, and drives an old red motor scooter.
In Peter's eyes he is perfect.
But he made the mistake of mentioning him a few times too often in the presence of his fathers. Of course the two of them caught up with what was going on and now they always stick their noses in Peter's business. His parents are old, they have no idea how it is to be in love with someone who doesn't even know you exist.
Absent-mindedly Peter scratches at the pimples on his left cheek. Maybe he really should take MJ up on her offer of showing him how to use makeup. His fingers come away bloody and he curses annoyed. Peter stands up to search for a soft tissue under the mountains on his desk. A half empty Dr Pepper can falls over and spills its remaining content all over his almost finished math homework. Peter blanches and frantically tries to save what can still be saved. He snatches the towel that he forgot to return to the bathroom last night and wipes up most of the mess.
Gloomy, he looks at the papers when he’s done. He’ll probably have to do them again, because most of it is illegible now. Maybe his fathers are right, he really needs to clean up his room. The death star is missing its Darth Vader figure and he really needs to return the manga that he rented from the school’s library.
So Peter flops down in his desk chair and starts to re-do his homework for tomorrow. His mood doesn’t really get better, but at least he doesn’t think about the fight with Steve this way.
The hours tick away, and Peter actually gets his math homework done, finishes the essay for world history and finds a cd that he borrowed from Ned ages ago. He only realizes how much time has passed when he has to switch the desk lamp on and when the playlist he’s been listening to comes to an end.
It’s dark outside and the teen glances at the clock on the wall. Almost dinner time. He isn’t sure if he really wants to leave his room after the argument with Steve, but his stomach is empty and teenagers are always hungry. The bag of popcorn under his bed wouldn’t satisfy him.
So he takes off his headphones, switches the lamp off and brings the wet and sticky towel to the bathroom to throw it into the hamper before slowly making his way to the kitchen. Jazz is playing from the radio; Pops is on cooking duty it seems.
Peter suddenly remembers the note under his door and silently returns to his room to pick it up. He’s not keen on another discussion, but it’s a family tradition that nobody sleeps before the problem at hand is sorted out. It has always been like this since the moment the two adopted Peter all those years ago. Usually it was a good tradition. Nobody had to go to bed thinking of the unresolved tension among the members of their family. But those late night problem solving conferences have increased lately, mostly due to Peter. He’d feel guilty if he wasn’t so annoyed all the time.
Basement before dinner , the note reads. It’s Tony's handwriting. His workshop is in the basement. Peter spent a lot of his free time there before, well, before hanging out with friends and trying to impress Wade became more important.
Hesitantly he takes the steps of the staircase that leads to the basement as quietly as possible, hoping that Steve doesn’t hear him. Maybe Tony will be easier to convince that it's important for Peter to go to that party on Friday. He wasn't there earlier when Peter fought with Steve.
The basement is Tony's kingdom. His dad works in IT at a big company, but he loves to build engines and robots. Peter's always wondered why his father hasn't become a mechanic instead.
Gingerly he opens the door when he reaches it. Led Zeppelin is playing and various computer screens are blinking at the man in front of them. Tony is wearing his work clothes, an old MIT sweater and Steve's sweatpants that no longer fit him because Tony sucks at doing the laundry and washed them too hot.
Peter puts his hands in his pockets and stays where he is for a moment trying to figure out how to announce himself without giving his dad a heart attack. He's always jumpy when he's focused on his work.
"Hey Pete," he suddenly says and takes the decision from Peter. He turns around in his swivel chair and smiles tiredly at his son.
"Hey dad," Peter echoes. He smiles back, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Long day at work?"
"I survived, but it was a close call. Aunt Pepper wore the red heels today," he jokes, knowing that Peter will get the reference to The Devil Wears Prada . "Long day at school today?"
Peter squirms. He skipped decathlon training today and Peter would bet his Lego millennium falcon that Tony knows it. "I survived," he says instead.
Tony hums and Peter internally prepares for another lecture. But then his dad waves him over, pulls a chair up for him and Peter takes it without question. He sits down next to him and before he can ask his father what this is about there's a pile of wires, tools and motherboards placed before him.
"Remember this?" Tony wants to know.
Peter nods. "I asked you to help me make a soundboard for the falcon. The one Lego designed is crap."
"Might want to finish this some time? I had to save it from DUM-E a few times by now. He thinks you don't like him anymore because you never come down to visit him."
As if on cue, a robot arm on a socket rolls over, beeping sadly at Peter. The claw holds a soft tissue and gently places it on the desk before Peter.
"You scratched again, didn't you? You're bleeding." Tony takes the tissue and brings it to Peter's cheek to gently dab at the pimples.
"Stop it, dad. It's disgusting." Peter tries to duck away, but his dad just catches his shoulder to hold him still.
"No, it's human. You're my son. And now hold still. I've wiped your ass when you weren't even half a year old, I'm not scared of little blood." Tony proceeds to do just that and wipes the blood away. "There, much better. You need to take better care of yourself, Pete. Can't have you run around with a mask for half of your life."
"Yeah, yeah," Peter mutters and grudgingly lets it happen. Then Tony lets go of him, throws the tissue in the wastebin and nudges him towards his unfinished soundboard project.
Peter waits for the other shoe to drop and for his father to tell him that he needs to apologize to Steve and that he’s grounded until he’s at least thirty, but nothing happens. Hunger forgotten, he picks up the tools and starts to work on his soundboard. The air is filled with music and the soft tapping sounds of the keyboard or the occasional tool being put down.
It’s maybe an hour later when Peter’s stomach starts growling for real this time. Sheepishly he looks up at Tony and sees him smirking at him. His father switches off his computers and machines and turns around so he can look at him properly.
“Want to eat dinner with us, kiddo?” he asks, and the nickname is so familiar and loved that Peter has to swallow around the lump in his throat.
“I don’t think that Pops wants to see me right now…” he hesitantly admits. “I’m pretty sure he told you already, right?”
Tony hums and nods. He intertwines his fingers in his lap. “Being a teenager sucks, doesn’t it?”
“You don’t understand,” Peter immediately says and looks at the almost finished soundboard instead of at his father.
“Believe me, I do.” Tony nods gravely and points at his temples where his dark hair has started to turn silver a few years ago. Steve says he likes the salt and pepper look, so Tony has stopped dying it. “I might not look like it anymore, but I was young too, you know?”
It’s not really a question, but Peter nods nevertheless.
“I know that your father and I can be a real handful at times,” Peter snorts, “but you can be too, and we do it because we love you and because we care about you, Peter.”
The teen goes silent at that. “I know that, dad,” he croaks out, his treacherous voice cracking at the end. “And I love you too. But everything is just too much. And I, well, there’s Wade and that stupid party where all the cool kids are gonna be, and I just want him to look at me. I don’t even care about the party that much, or about the alcohol. I don’t like it, it tastes bitter and makes me want to gag. But…Vanessa won’t be there. And Ned’s gonna come. MJ too. Can’t I just go there? Please? Can’t you talk to papa for me? Please make an exception, just this one time.”
Tony sighs and Peter already knows what he’s gonna say before he even opens his mouth.
“No can do, Peter. You got yourself into this situation.” Tony shrugs and raises an eyebrow. But he continues before the teen can start whining. “First you skip school, then you almost drink yourself comatose to impress the others, and your room looks like a bomb went off inside. You’re fifteen, Peter. To be fair, I’m almost fifty - ancient, I know - but what I want to say is that you need to learn to take the consequences of your decisions. You’re almost an adult. Your life has just begun.”
“But what am I supposed to say to the others? That’s not fair, dad!” Peter tries again, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie.
“Life isn’t always fair, Peter. And love sure as hell isn’t easy. Not gonna lie, I’d rather swim all the way to Australia than be a teenager once again.” Tony places his hands on his son’s shoulders and follows his arms until he can hold his hands and still his nervous fiddling. “I know that you want this Wade kid to notice you. But there are other ways to do that. Maybe you don’t even need to impress him. Just be yourself and he’ll come to realize what an amazing young man you really are when you’re not busy trying to be someone else.”
“Easy for you to say, Dad. You’ve got Pops. You’ve been married for almost twenty years; Pops adores you,” Peter blurts, hoping to get his father to understand. His dads have always been so happy together. And what Peter really wants is for Wade to look at him like Steve looks at Tony.
“Oh yes, I love your Pops, and I couldn’t be happier to have your father in my life,” Tony agrees and there’s that smile that always appears when he talks about Steve. “But it’s not always been that way. Do you know the story of how we got together back when we were young? Well, younger than we are now. ”
Peter rolls his eyes. The story is so sweet that it would make Walt Disney gag. “Yeah, I know, I know. Pops asked you out and you two went to our favorite Italian restaurant and you were so in love and it was perfect.”
“That’s the official version of the story,” Tony smirks now. “But do you also know that your father turned me down six times before that?”
Peter gapes at his father. “He turned you down? How come you never told me that? Why? What happened?”
Tony laughs and squeezes Peter’s hands lightly. “Well, everyone likes the perfect picture book date story so we never told anyone what really happened. Aunt Nat knows though, because she set us up.”
“She set you up?” Peter repeats confused. Aunt Nat and Uncle Bucky are the coolest people in the world in his opinion (except for Ryan Reynolds and Chris Hemsworth).
“She set us up. She’s known Steve almost as long as Buck. The first time Steve turned me down was because I was blackout drunk.” Tony laughs again at the memory. Peter finds that story hard to believe seeing as Tony almost never drinks. “When I tried it again he was sure it was a prank. The third time was because I thought I needed to impress him and turned up in a tux. The fourth and fifth time I don’t actually remember, but it had something to do with a donut and because he thought I was dating Bucky at the time.”
“And the sixth time?” Peter wants to know. He’s never heard that story before and he is dying to know how it ends.
“The sixth time was because he once again thought it was a prank,” Tony concluded with a smile. “Then he finally asked me out and I almost turned him down in return, just to see his face.”
“You didn’t!” Peter exclaims, half laughing and half shocked.
“No, I didn’t,” Tony agrees, laughing. “The date he took me on, though, was both kitschy and the most romantic date of my life. In retrospect I should have been smart enough to not wear a white button down for eating spaghetti.”
Peter smiles at his father’s happy face. “Thank you for telling me, Dad," he says after a while. He understands what Tony wanted to tell him with that little story.
“Of course, kiddo. Now, help me up, will you? My back is killing me.” Peter stands up from his chair and pulls Tony up with him. His father pulls him into his arms when he stands safely and Peter relishes the proximity. His dad gives the best hugs. Tony kisses his head and rubs his hands up and down Peter’s back. The teen buries his face in his father’s chest for another long moment.
“Now let’s go and apologize to your Pops, okay? I’m sure he’s worried sick for you.” Tony releases Peter again and instead puts his arm around his shoulders, to lead him out of the basement and to the staircase.
Peter worriedly looks up at his father. “He won’t be mad?”
“No, he won’t be mad. I promise. Just apologize for your outburst and we will find a solution to the Friday night problem, okay?” Tony suggests and switches the lights off as they exit the room. “Maybe you can invite that Wade kid over, hm? I swear I’ll try my best not to embarrass you too much. Just a little bit. To do my fatherly responsibilities justice.”
“Dad,” Peter groans and rolls his eyes.
“Too early? Too early.” Tony just laughs and makes his way up with Peter in tow.
They reach the kitchen, chatting idly about what they could cook for dinner for next Friday just in case. Steve awaits them with a gentle smile and pulls Peter into a bone-crushing hug before the teen can say a single word.
Both of his dads give the best hugs.
His father’s strong arms around him and his scent in his nose bring tears to Peter’s eyes and he secretly brushes them off when he hopes nobody sees it. Of course his parents see it, but they know not to tease him about it for now.
After dinner, Peter apologizes to Steve properly, promises his parents to tidy up his room tomorrow, and grudgingly accepts being grounded. He also promises them he’ll be more careful when it comes to alcohol. In the end, they do once again talk about Peter’s outburst, but it’s worlds away from the shouting match he and Steve had before. And Peter can hug his fathers good night before withdrawing to his bedroom, without feeling like the worst son on the planet.
Yeah, he really loves his family a whole lot.
.oOo.
Four evenings later the doorbell rings and Peter almost crashes into Steve and Dodger in his hurry to get to the door first. He opens it, feeling both excited and hella nervous, to find none other than Wade there. He smiles at Peter a little sheepishly, makes a badly timed pun about their front lawn and hands some chocolates to Peter’s parents to thank them for the invitation. He wears his usual black jeans and -to Peter’s surprise- a white button down.
Steve makes spaghetti for dinner.