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It was just past midnight and Tony was standing in the penthouse kitchen, staring solemnly at the coffee machine, broken and battered on the floor. He hadn’t slept in at least two days, and he was certain he’d seen a cockroach on the counter. He’d grabbed a rolling pin with the intention of killing it. Hence, the current situation.
With a sigh, Tony turned and started back to his bedroom. This, he decided, was a problem for non-sleep deprived Tony.
Then he heard a knock on the window, and he half thought he was to the point of hallucinating, until he remembered that it was Peter’s night to stay at the Tower. “Right. Peter. The reason I’m waiting here in the first place.”
He stepped around the broken plastic and meandered over to the window. Peter waved from the other side as Tony slid the locks to the other position, sliding the window open. “Welcome back,” he said, stepping aside.
“Thanks!” Peter was far too chipper right now. Tony didn’t necessarily wish his tired state onto others, but he knew exactly how much sleep Peter got, and it certainly wasn’t enough. Though he’d never admit it out loud, he was somewhat jealous.
Tossing his mask onto the kitchen island, Peter stepped over the broken coffee machine and ducked into the fridge. He tossed various fruits onto the counter, before moving to grab ice.
Tony grabbed a barstool and sat down at the island. “Smoothie?”
Peter hummed in response. He pulled the blender from against the wall, tossed the various ingredients in, and pressed the ‘on’ button.
Tony knew that Peter liked to make various drinks whenever he got back from patrol. Though smoothies were the most common, he also drank juices, coffees, or whatever else he could get his hands on. When asked why, Peter said it was “an urge from the deepest depths of my soul,” whatever that meant.
After pouring the drink into one of his favorite cups, Peter joined Tony at the island, throwing a straw in the drink. “Thanks for getting the window! Forgot to leave it open before I left.”
Tony mumbled a tired response. “Anything for you, kid.”
Then Peter grinned, and Tony knew he needed to get some sleep, because he could have sworn he’d just seen fangs in Peter’s mouth. But before Tony could be sure, the kid was drinking his smoothie, and his toothy grin was gone.
Tony shoved his chair away from the island, stretching as he stood. “I’m off to get some shut-eye. If you’re up too late, I’m setting Pepper on you, capiche?”
Peter shot him a quizzical glance. “Is that Tony Stark? Talking about… getting some sleep? Going to bed at a remotely reasonable hour?” He had one hand to his chest, mock surprise plastered on his face. “It’s a miracle!”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Sure, kid, now finish up and get some rest. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
The reminder made Peter groan, making Tony chuckle as he walked back to bed. And after turning off the lights and climbing under the covers, sleep found him quickly.
-- -- --
It was a slow night.
Tony walked out onto the roof of the tower, spotting Peter sitting on the edge of the roof. He was swinging his legs off the side of the building, and if Tony didn’t know about his abilities, he’d be dragging the kid inside and giving him some stern words.
“Not much crime, then?”
Peter turned back to him. “Yep! And that’s always a good thing, even if it leaves me with nothing to do.”
Tony hummed, setting a cup down on the edge of the roof. “Smoothie?”
Peter lit up, letting out a little gasp of surprise. “Please!” he pulled up the bottom of his mask, grabbing the drink and slipping the straw in his mouth. “Thanks!”
Tony sat down on the floor a few feet away from the roof, not nearly so daring as peter. “Anything good yet tonight?”
There was a noise as Peter spun to face him, nodding. “Stopped a bank robbery--those are always fun. I mean, not for the people being robbed. But for me it’s fun.”
Tony swatted away a mosquito, chuckling. “Anything else?”
“Well there was…” Peter trailed off, and Tony noticed that the kid’s eyes were trained on a mosquito making loops in front of him. Tony moved to scare it away, but Peter was quicker, snatching it out of the air with his hand and--
“Did you just eat that?”
Peter paused, then nodded slowly. “I, uh,” he paused, “it’s a spider thing? I think?”
“You think?”
“I mean, I don’t know why else I would have the sudden urge to eat a bug, so I mean. Probably a spider thing.”
Tony knew when Peter was lying. He could tell by the way he fidgeted with the straw of his drink, the way he bit his lip nervously. And there was always that hunch, the one that Tony instinctively trusted. And right now, Peter was lying.
But Tony really couldn’t think up any other explanations. So he simply hummed. “I see. So should I buy you chocolate covered crickets? Or those suckers with the ants inside them?” He tapped his fingers on the ground. “Would that satiate the spider part of you? I don’t particularly care if you want to eat bugs, but they could have diseases or something and I’d prefer you not get sick.”
“You’d buy me that kind of thing?”
“As long as you don’t expect me to eat them, sure.”
Peter smiled at him. “Thanks. I… thought you might think it was weird.”
“It is a little strange,” Tony admitted, “But you’re able to stick to ceilings with your bare hands, so it can’t get much weirder than that.”
Peter burst out laughing, moving to cover his face with his hand. “I guess not.” Then his smile dropped, and he turned away from Tony. “Karen says there’s trouble, I’ve gotta go. Thanks again!” He ran towards the edge of the roof before dropping off the side, waving as he fell.
Tony waved back, even though Peter was already gone. He grabbed the cup Peter had left behind and went back inside, glancing up at the ceiling as he went back to the kitchen. “FRIDAY? Where might I be able to buy some bugs?”
-- -- --
Tony plugged his new coffee machine into the wall, smiling proudly. It was one he’d made with Peter, and it had an AI of its own. That was mostly so Peter could get some practice coding, but also because his previous machine had been rather fragile, and the days leading up to the arrival of a replacement had been absolute torture. Tony refused to live like that again, hence a coffee machine made from a much stronger material.
He started up the machine, and a few minutes later he walked into the living room, warm mug in hand.
Peter sat on the sofa, messing around with some game on his phone. A bag of crickets rested against his side, and every so often he would grab a few to eat. Clint was sitting in an armchair across the room, eyeing the kid with what appeared to be concern.
“Tony,” Clint had his hands folded in front of him, index fingers touching his chin, “are you aware that your child is eating bugs?”
“Someone had to buy them for him,” Tony said, “So yes, I’m aware.”
“...how are you not freaked out by it?”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Clint, he’s a spider. If I was going to freak out over anything, that would be it.”
Peter snorted. “The first time he saw me eat a bug, he looked like he’d seen a ghost,” he said, tossing a cricket into his mouth, “Turns out he was more concerned about me getting sick than he was me actually, yknow, eating a bug.”
Clint shook his head. “Yeah, no thanks. When’s our food getting here?” The last part was directed at Tony.
“It’s been fifteen minutes since we ordered Clint, it’ll be here soon.” He sighed, then settled on the couch next to Peter. Turning on the TV, he flicked through the various streaming services. He never decided on a show, instead turning off the TV about ten minutes later when their food arrived.
Clint went down to get the pizza while Tony got the table ready and Peter went to get Pepper and Natasha. Everyone gathered in the kitchen quickly, three pizzas stacked on the kitchen island. There were two to be split amongst the adults, and one for Peter. The kid could eat a lot and the others found his taste in toppings to be… Questionable.
“C'mon, Peter, really? Pineapple and spinach? On a pizza?” Clint fake gagged, sticking his tongue out.
Natasha smacked him chidingly. “Leave him be.”
Clint sighed. “I guess it’s better than crickets.”
Peter laughed, knowing Clint was just messing with him. He’d get him back later--with a glitter bomb, of course. He reached over and grabbed his pizza box, sliding into the seat at the end of the table and flicking the box open. He grabbed the small container of garlic sauce from the box and opened it--the best part of spinach pizza, in his opinion.
Tony disagreed, the best part of the pizza was obviously the crust. But if he wasn’t going to bother the kid about crickets, he wasn’t going to bother him about garlic.
At least, that’s what he thought, until about half an hour later when Peter was lying on the sofa, sick to his stomach. Tony initially thought it was food poisoning--maybe the pineapple had gone bad?--when Peter asked Tony to grab some medicine from his room. He’d done so quickly, getting a glass of water as well, before handing both to Peter and demanding an explanation.
“I, uh, may be a little tiny bit allergic to garlic?” Peter winced as he spoke, giving a nervous smile.
“And you still had garlic sauce?”
“I usually take the medicine first,” Peter said quickly, “I just forgot this time.”
Tony put his head in his hands. What was he going to do with this kid?
“Allergic to garlic?” Clint laughed, “What are you, a vampire?”
“I’m not-- No!” Peter answered quickly, scowling.
Tony knew when Peter was lying. He knew the signs. And Peter was very much lying. “Christ,” Tony muttered, remembering the night he’d thought he’d seen fangs in Peter’s mouth. Remembering when Peter had been lying about eating bugs because he was part spider.
“I can tell when people are lying,” Natasha said, narrowing her eyes. Tony was glad he wasn’t the only one to notice, though he did feel a little bad when Peter curled in on himself, pulling his knees up to his chest.
“I-- well, I-- um.” Peter shook his head. “Sorry.”
“Hold on, Peter--” confusion passed across Clint’s face, “You’re a vampire?”
There was a pause, and then Peter nodded. He frowned, looking down, but opened his mouth to reveal a pair of fangs.
“But you don’t drink blood?” Pepper tilted her head, moving to sit beside him, “Plus, we’ve seen you in the sun before.”
Peter crawled up onto the arm of the sofa, away from Pepper. “The blood thing is a myth. And I wear a lot of sunscreen.” He looked over at Tony. “You’re not gonna try and kill me, are you?”
Tony blanched. “Of course not. You aren’t hurting anyone, why would I?”
Peter relaxed at that, moving back towards Pepper. “Really?”
“Yes, Really,” Pepper said, laying her arm around his shoulders. He leaned into her, murmuring a gentle “thank you.”
“Of course we’re not going to hurt you,” Tony sighed as he sat down, “But you are gonna have to explain all your vampire abilities. And no more garlic--no matter how good it tastes.”
Peter yelped. “But Daaaaaad--”
“No buts! Now get talking--what exactly does being a vampire entail?”
Peter smiled. “Well…”