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There were very few dates that Tony came to memorize. In fact, he was pretty sure he could count them all on his one hand.
December 16th, 1991. The night his parents died.
May 29th, 1970. His own birthday.
May 5th, 1973. Pepper’s birthday — that one took some time to remember.
May 16th, 2012. The attack on New York.
The month of May was proving to be a troublesome time for him.
He seemed to have an unshakable survivors guilt that never failed to act up around both his birthday and the anniversary of the attack on New York. Every year he tried to make Pepper’s birthday the perfect distraction and every year he managed to fail, miserably. Usually with sparks and flames, because fireworks were his go-to. Even those somehow turned out awful.
So when October 3rd, 2016 rolled around, he knew he’d remember the day for one reason. Not because of the date, no. It was the person involved.
May Parker.
“I’m going to have you arrested,” she said, finger wagging in his direction. “That’s what I’m going to do. I’m calling the cops, I’m reporting you, I’m — I’m — I’m—”
Tony rubbed at his forehead. “You’re not having me arrested, Ms. Parker.”
“Shh!” she hissed. “You don’t get to talk. You — you...be quiet, mister!”
Tony sniffed, hard. It was a move he did when he needed to restrain himself from showing too much emotion, followed by a flick of his thumb over his nose. He sat quietly on the couch in the Parker’s living room, one leg crossed over the other, his elbow resting on the armrest of the sofa.
May paced in front of him, back and forth repeatedly until he was sure she’d create a hole in the floor. He stayed relatively quiet throughout her rant, deciding it was best to let her get everything out before he said anything.
“This is a nightmare." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I can’t believe this, I can’t believe you, I can’t — this isn’t happening!”
October 3rd, 2016. The day was nothing short of a nightmare. As if the weekend leading up to it wasn’t bad enough — his plane carrying the most essential Avengers belongings crashed and burned on Coney Island and the clean up was a headache he still hadn’t shaken off. Then he found out the kid helped save his ass when someone tried stealing those items, and then the same kid turned down a spot on the team that he was really hoping he’d join.
It took less than twenty-four hours after all that for things to really go to hell in a hand-basket.
“Ms. Parker, hear me out,” he said.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Ms. Parker —”
“No, no, no, you —!”
“May!”
“I’m not letting you—!”
“May!”
They were shouting over each other now, May’s shrill voice easily overtaking Tony’s calm but firm tone.
It had taken twelve phone calls and voicemails before he got wind of the situation. Eleven were from her and only one was from Peter himself. That was the voicemail telling him this wasn’t a situation he could ignore.
“May, it’s fine — May, calm down, it’s fine! It’s fine — oh crap, it beeped. Hi, Mr-Mr. Stark, it’s Peter. Parker. Uhm, so, uh, my aunt sorta...kinda...found out about the whole Spider-man thing. Uh, yeah, I’m-I’m uh...I’m screwed. Uhm, I could use — May, I told you I’m calling him now. No, I don’t know why Happy isn’t picking up, I’m — call me back...when you get this, Mr. Stark. And sorry. For everything.”
Tony shot up from the couch, grabbing her shoulders as gently as he could, forcing her to stay in one place and look him in the eye.
He wouldn’t tell a single soul, but the anger that radiated off her scared him to his core. It could easily give Pepper Potts a run for her money. And that said something.
“May,” he started. “You have to accept that this was his choice.”
“He’s going to get hurt,” she fired back. “You’re — you’re going to let him get hurt, you’re enabling that, you’re—”
“No. No, I’m not. I promise you,” Tony assured her. “I gave him the suit so he could be safe. You saw what he was running around in before — that was not safe.”
May paused, the crease on her forehead relaxing as recognition fell over her features.
“Oh my god. That hoodie. I knew I saw that hoodie somewhere before...I bought that hoodie!” She sat down on the sofa, her head falling into her hands. “This can’t be happening.”
Tony was ninety percent sure she was about to cry, and tears were far, far out of his element. He cleared his throat, intentionally loud to gain her attention before sitting down next to her.
“I know this wasn’t the most...ideal way for you to find out.”
May shot him a glare.
Tony held his hands in the air.
“He wanted to keep it secret. I respected that.” Tony defended. “But I need you to hear me out, May. If you tell anyone...if word gets out that I, Tony Stark, am assisting a superhero vigilante...they’re going make him sign the Sokovia Accords.”
“Oh god,” May mumbled.
“Between you and me, I’d rather keep him far away from that disaster of a government legislation. At least until he’s out of high school. That’s only fair — to him, to you. This doesn’t have to get out of our control.”
Tony wasn’t lying. It was probably the most earnest he had been since entering the apartment. The Accords may have ruined his life, but they didn’t need to ruin Peter’s. Not when the most the kid wanted to do was save a few old ladies from muggings and rescue a couple lost cats from trees.
And take down a hijacked plane with all the Avenger’s belongings in it.
Tony wouldn’t live that one down.
“So,” Tony clapped his hands together. “Where would you like me to begin?”
May sighed, shaking her head. “He’s just a kid.”
Tony paused, a look washing over his face as if he were trying to decide on something. He let a beat pass before speaking up.
“Would it help if I told you he hacked a multi-million dollar suit and went against implicit orders I gave him?”
There were a of couple lessons he took away from that experience.
The first and foremost was that the Parker kid couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Apparently, his aunt wasn’t the only one to discover his vigilante outings, already having a friend who deemed the role of ‘guy in the chair’, whatever the hell that meant. Tony had a gut feeling there’d be more to come. Especially if he kept putting on his suit, in broad daylight, in openly exposed alleyways.
The second was that he never, ever let May Parker go to voicemail.
He was in his workshop underneath his Bugatti Veyron when FRIDAY patched her call through.
“Ah, Ms. Parker.” He laid a tool-wrench down on the ground. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Tony,” she greeted. “How many times do I have to tell you — it’s May.”
“Of course. And a lovely name at that.” Tony rolled out from underneath the car, wiping his hands on a dirty shop rag. “What can I do for you? It’s not the Spiderling, is it? Still keeping his grades up, not skipping classes, being a good boy and all that nonsense?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. Peter’s doing fine.”
Tony was slightly relieved at the answer. It had been months since the ‘cat out of the bag’ incident and for the most part, May never had to contact him with any serious concerns. Peter knew that school was a priority, he knew and — mostly — obeyed his curfew. There really wasn’t any cause for concern. Honestly, he felt like they had a great handle on the situation.
Still, there was always a first time for everything.
Tony stood from the floor, tossing the shop rag onto the nearest table.
“It’s the devil’s lettuce, isn’t it?” He feigned a gasp. “Those damn kids with their experimenting and hoopla.”
May chuckled on the other line. “As much as I would love for that to be the extent of trouble Peter gets into, no. It’s about his birthday. You know it’s next week, right?”
Tony winced. He actually didn’t know, but in his defense, he wasn’t great with dates.
“Of course. What’s the young buck turning? Twelve? Thirteen?”
He could practically see May roll her eyes. “Sixteen.”
That, Tony did know. The kid loved to bring it up anytime he mocked him about his age — (“I’m almost sixteen, Mr. Stark.”) which tend to be a lot, something Tony couldn’t help. (“Yeah? Talk to me when you have to shave more than once a week.”) Teasing him had become his favorite pastime.
He didn't know, however, that it was right around the corner. Jeeze, it felt like a couple months ago the kid was fourteen and getting his passport for Germany.
“They grow up so fast,” Tony said, pouring himself a disgustingly green smoothie. He wasn't a fan of the chlorophyll, especially what the taste reminded him of. But health was health, and he wasn't exactly getting any younger. “You want my help celebrating? I have a great reputation for throwing parties.”
“No, no, it’s just going to be a small get together. A few of his friends, birthday cake, he mentioned a Star Wars marathon — nothing big.”
Tony took a sip of his smoothie as May spoke overhead, carefully eyeing the fancy sports car he had been working on.
An idea popped into his head.
“How can it be a small get together? Where is he going to show off the car I’m buying him?”
“Ah!” May immediately responded. “See. That’s why I called.”
Tony had already pulled up a holographic screen from one of his computers, scrolling through dealerships and different types of cars with a flick of his wrist.
“About what? May, it’s his sweet sixteen. Everyone gets a car for this sixteenth, kid needs a car.”
“No.” she argued. “Peter does not need a car.”
“Mhmm...agree to disagree.” Tony stopped the scroll of images to eye one vehicle in particular. His fingers zoomed in on it, spinning it around. “He likes red, right? Obviously he likes red. Smart kid, my favorite color, his favorite color, we get along so well.”
“Tony. no.”
He frowned, coking his head to the side. “Tony no? I’m not too sure what that means.”
“We live in Queens. In New York. Where is he going to drive a car?”
“In Queens, New York,” Tony insisted. “I don’t understand, what’s the problem?”
He could hear May sigh over the phone. “Listen, I am eternally grateful that you helped him get his permit. You went above and beyond with his driving lessons and lending him your car and — thank you again, for all of that. But...he doesn’t need his own car. Not yet.”
Tony pursed his lips in thought. Ultimately he waved the pages of internet research aside, clearing them away and settling into a chair at his desk.
“Alright, I’ll bite.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Aside from smothering my taste in gifts, what’s on your mind?”
“I wanted to offer a suggestion.”
Tony nodded. “I’m listening.”
“Peter’s been...” she paused to cluck her tongue. “Listen, you can’t tell him what I’m about to tell you.”
Tony shook his head and muttered, “Full of demands today, aren’t we aunt hottie.”
“I heard that,” she snapped.
May didn’t immediately resume talking and Tony almost considered apologizing, uncomfortable with how long of a break she took. He sipped from his smoothie, already half done by the time she audibly cleared her throat and spoke up again.
“Peter’s been seeing this girl. Michelle or Chelle or MJ...I don’t know, but he’s been seeing her a lot lately. They’ve been going out on a few dates and he really doesn’t want anyone to know but he doesn’t know that I know and he can’t know that you now know.”
Tony blinked. “Wow. That was a mouthful. And if I may say — is this kid doomed not to keep a secret?”
May hummed. “That’s a little harsh. I only know because of the smell.”
Tony choked on his drink. “I’m-I’m sorry, the smell? Next you gonna tell me that you found crusty socks in his hamper?”
“Oh that’s gross,” May scolded. “That is so gross. Tony.”
He laughed. “May, he’s a teenager. Do you expect any less?”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
Tony set his drink aside. “I’m sure the kid can handle buying his own rubbers.”
“Why do you always make me regret reaching out?”
Tony chuckled. He honestly found humor in the situation but kept his real response to himself. He didn’t want to admit that anytime he spoke with May, it painfully reminded him of how young Peter was. It was like a reality check he never asked for, finding it easier to see the kid through his mask and Baby Monitor feed than what he actually was — a kid.
It wasn’t a fact he could run from forever. Especially if he was going to let the Parker’s get so close to him.
Who was he kidding, he failed at stopping that from happening a long time ago. Most days Peter had him wrapped around his lanky little fingers, which made it harder to say no to any request May had for him.
“I apologize,” Tony said. “You were saying?”
“The smell — it’s his cologne. Which isn’t actually his, it’s — it was...my late husband’s. And as much as I loved Ben, he had an awful taste. He insisted on using this fragrance that smelt like wet wood and beeswax,” May explained. “I had Peter try a little bit for his Homecoming dance, you know...make him feel a little more mature and all, but he hated the smell more on himself than when it was on Ben.”
“But he’s using it?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, he’s using it. And I’m about ready to throw the bottle out to stop him. I’m not sure how this poor girl is putting up with it. I guess anything is better than teenage B.O, but still. It’s so bad.”
This was the first time Tony was hearing about the problem. It had been a couple weeks since he last had Peter over at the compound, so clearly he and this girl couldn’t have been going out for too long. Not that high-school relationships ever lasted more than a month to begin with.
Still, if he had smelt something as awful as wet wood and beeswax, he would have stepped in sooner.
“Alright, I think I see where this is going,” Tony said. “But I have to ask — why are you coming to me with this? Are you that hard up on cash that you can’t afford a bottle of cologne?”
Tony was shocked May didn’t have a smart-ass comeback for that. He knew she had problems with his need to buy his way out of everything while she stayed in the working class. It wasn’t his best phrasing and he actually winced in anticipation of her response, surprised when her next words came through soft over the speakers.
“I considered buying something. I don’t...I just don’t feel like it should come from me.”
Tony frowned. Then who else would it —
Oh.
Ohhh.
“You don’t want…me to...?”
Things had just immediately jumped out of his element. Tony swallowed the discomfort that settled heavily in his throat, fighting off the urge to end the phone call before things got too real.
“You don’t have to,” May insisted. “I wanted to put the idea out there, that’s all. Peter has had it rough with...father figures in his life. He’s lost the only two he’s ever had. First Richard, then Ben...I’m doing everything I can, but I’m still only his aunt. The cool aunt, mind you —”
“But the aunt,” Tony finished. “I get it.”
May sighed, and he could hear her pacing against the tile floor of her home. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one out of his element with this subject. Her nerves were clear in her voice.
“I don’t know if you realize this, I don’t even know how okay you are with this..” she started, “Whether I like it or not, Peter respects you. He looks up to you. I’m not thrilled it’s you, but he needs someone to play that role in his life. And you’ve been...you’ve actually been doing a good job at that. I haven’t seen Peter so much like, well...Peter, since Ben passed. It’s nice.”
Her voice got small, quiet even over the loudspeakers in the workshop. Tony heard her, though. He heard the emotion laced in her words and the strain that came from speaking her late husband’s name. He heard what she was saying.
And yet he couldn’t help but find the irony in it all. He never wanted kids, he never asked for kids, he and Pepper were good without kids.
How the hell did he still end up with a kid?
A good one, mind you. Smart, very smart, heroic, wise and mature beyond his years — Tony scrubbed at his face and held back a groan. He supposed there really was a first time for everything.
May broke him out of his thoughts. “Listen, if I’ve made you uncomfortable —”
“I’ll do it,” Tony interrupted. “Someone has to teach the kid how to be fashionable, right?”
He masked the truth behind his humor, and while May chuckled, he had a good feeling she saw right through it. The kid had great instincts, that went without saying. He chose to be a superhero, no one forced him into it. That was a lecture he had to tell May.
But great instincts would only get him so far. He still needed a support team and somehow Tony Stark ended up in that mix.
May’s heels finally stopped walking across the floor. “Thank you, Tony.”
Tony sniffed and swiped at his nose.
Peter opened the door to his apartment, immediately stopping when a plastic light-saber swung recklessly in front of him.
“Young Anakin Skywalker.” Ned poked the light-saber to his chest. “You were the chosen one!”
Jaw unhinged, Peter tossed his keys to the side and dropped his book-bag to the floor. “Dude, awesome! Where’s mine!?”
Ned pointed behind him with the light-saber. “In the kitchen. We got you a red one.”
From across the living room, a dry, humorless voice stated, “You’re not supposed to tell him, dweeb.”
Peter looked in the direction, walking further into the apartment as MJ swung over the couch. She sat on her knees, chin resting against the backrest of the sofa.
She gave one wave in Peter’s direction. “Whadaup, dork?”
“Hey.” Peter gestured to the sofa where she sat, awkwardly smiling. “You-you came. Cool.”
MJ shrugged. “Yeah, well, I had nothing better to do tonight, so...” her voice trailed off and her eyes wandered to the floor, deciding instead to play with her short fingernails instead of finishing the conversation.
Ned jabbed an elbow in Peter’s side, who proceeded to furrow his brows and snap his head over, mouthing a very obvious ‘dude!’
“Peter!” May called from the kitchen. “In here!”
There was no hesitation when Peter took the chance to escape. He practically jogged into the kitchen, stopping short of the table where May stood with her apron on, decorating a birthday cake. There was a bit of chocolate frosting on her cheek that made him laugh.
“Hey, May,” he greeted, chuckling.
May looked up and smiled, dropping the bag of frosting and stepping forward for a hug. Peter held his arms open in return.
“Hey, kiddo.” She squeezed him hard, rubbing his back in her grip. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Peter muffled into her shirt.
May held him tighter. “Ben would be so proud to see you right now. The man you’re growing up to be...”
Her voice began to break in a way Peter couldn’t stand to hear. He nodded his head, though it went unseen in her embrace.
“I know. I miss him.” Peter felt the knot in his throat growing and his body swayed side to side as she rocked him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” May pulled away, smiling while she ruffled his hair. “Go to your room real quick. There’s a present on your bed that I think you’ll want to open in private.”
Peter wasn’t sure if she heard her right. He pointed behind him and over his shoulder where his bedroom was, as if needed affirmation to where she asked him to go.
May nodded, shooing him off, physically pushing him away with a “Go, go!”
He managed to make it there without gaining MJ or Ned’s attention, the two preoccupied with Decathlon practice questions to notice. His door was already open albeit cracked, making him wonder what exactly was going on.
His steps faltered as he saw what was inside. He closed his door quietly, never once turning away from the small, gift-wrapped package sitting on his bottom bunk. The last time he had a surprise in his room, it was a brown paper bag that managed to get him into a world of trouble.
This, at least, looked slightly less suspicious.
The springs of his bed squeaked as he sat down. The box was small and covered in red and gold wrapping paper with the added touch of a blue bow. He hesitantly opened it, peeling the gift wrap away slowly.
Inside was a bottle of cologne.
A very, very, very expensive looking bottle of cologne.
Peter couldn’t help but gawk at it for the longest time.
A note sat on top, the edges embroidered and the paper feeling slightly heavy in his hands. It was fancy card-stock that he didn’t typically see on a day to day basis.
And yet the message on it was handwritten.
Peter read it.
Mr. Parker,
As Tom Ford once said, “Good manners and good cologne is what transforms the man into a gentleman.”
You’ve excelled at the former but need some guidance on the latter.
Happy birthday, kid.
T.S
He jolted in surprise as hard banging on his bedroom door caught his attention.
“Dude, hurry up!” Ned yelled from outside, his fist pounding relentlessly. “I want you to open my present, it’s a one thousand two hundred piece BB8 lego set!”
“Dork!” MJ shouted. “You’re not supposed to tell him what you got him!”
Peter laughed, setting the note and glass jar of cologne aside on his nightstand.
Of his entire sixteen year existence, the past year had definitely been the weirdest.
And while he never expected Tony Stark to play such a large role in that...well, he was kinda glad he that did.
The next time he and Mr. Stark were together, the man playfully punched him on the shoulder, casually complimenting that he smelt nice and had an “extraordinary taste in fragrance.”
Peter then decided to let him know about MJ, asking for a few dating tips in the process.