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“Peter, when you said you were ‘more susceptible to the cold’ you didn’t tell me that was a horrifying understatement.” Tony gritted out through chattering teeth, his sound just as biting as the gentle breeze felt to the billionaire.
“To be fair,” Peter hedged, eying Tony and his tensed posture, “I did say I was really bad at regulating my temperature. And also, swinging around and beating up bad guys helps keep your temperature up.”
“You’re fine in the heat! I’ve seen you swinging through the city in a hundred degree weather!” Tony argued, outright ignoring Peter’s comment on cold. They’d had that discussion and he would not be putting on a skin tight spandex suit and swinging around to punch lowlife muggers.
“You did put cooling tech into that suit?” Peter argued, hustling a little quicker towards the car, even if his lungs protested the action.
It had been just under two weeks since the swap. (Though, Peter still refused to call it a swap. He didn’t gain anything from Tony when he involuntarily handed away his mutant abilities.) In that time, things had been going alright. As much as they could be, at least.
Tony was learning how to be Spider-Man. At the very least, he was learning to be off-duty Spider-Man. His ability to stick and unstick was still shoddy, but he was managing some form of control over it; he at least had enough control to not get caught in public stuck to things.
The senses themselves had finally become manageable, though Tony did stray closer to overloads than Peter did. Peter swore it was years of practice. Tony swore it was because he was doing a thousand other things that a teenager never had to worry about. Pepper said they were probably both right and that they were also both idiots.
She was right, as always.
And on Peter’s end? Well, having his asthma and near-sightedness return wasn’t really doing him any favors. But, for the first time in a long time, he was remembering how it felt to just exist. To worry about what his hair looked like when he FaceTimed MJ and to watch the newest episode of The Book of Boba Fett with Ned on a group party on Disney+. He was remembering what it was like to not have the weight of Queens, and occasionally the world, resting on his teenaged shoulders.
He was a little worried about what returning that weight would mean.
So he didn’t think about it.
Instead, he just tried to laugh at Mr. Stark’s daily ‘help-I’m-stuck-to-a-random-object’ or throw out advice for something fun and cool that Tony could now do with increased flexibility and agility.
“Yeah, I did, but not super powered cooling technology.” Tony hissed as he pressed the button on his key fob to open the doors.
“Yeah, but heat is way easier than cold, Mr. Stark. If I’m hot I can just take a dip into someone’s pool or the Hudson River or something. I can’t wear a coat when I’m Spider-Manning.”
“Do not take the suit into the Hudson River, Parker, or I swear to god—“ Tony snapped in disgust as he turned the heat to full blast.
Peter laughed, “Sure, sure. I won’t.” He promised, wondering if he’d ever even get the chance again. Brushing it off, he nodded to Tony’s jittering fingers. “Are you good to drive? Seem a little shaky.”
Tony glared, molten iron, and spoke clearly. “Friday, take us home.”
Peter laughed again as Friday confirmed and the car began to drive all by itself. “Show off.”
“You like me being a show off. It’s the entire reason we met, kid.”
“Pretty sure we met because you wanted me to kick Captain America’s ass.” Peter sing-songed, reclining into the passenger seat even though he was a bit warm. It was only the beginning of December and the temperature hadn’t dropped below sixty yet.
“I should kick you out. I should leave you on the side of the road, right here, to fend for yourself, you little demon.”
“Aw, but if you did that, who would help distract you enough to unstick from the TV remote tonight?” Peter grinned, shark teeth and laughter pressing against his throat.
“I always told Pep I didn’t want kids. You remind me why I don’t.” Tony replied, rolling his eyes fondly as he nudged his bulky, layered shoulder against Peter’s to confirm he was joking.
“Orphaned, again? ” Peter cried out in fake agony, his smile barely tempered. “How many more father figures must I lose?”
If Peter still had his super hearing he was sure he’d hear Tony’s heart rate jump. Instead, he was lucky enough to get a good view of Tony’s face as his eyes widened slightly in shock. It was schooled quickly, as Tony’s face ever was, and he shook his head.
He did have to clear his throat before speaking and Peter took that as the confirmation it was. “As long as you’ve got Aunt Hottie you’ll never be an orphan. Besides, I didn’t pay for your college. You’re not legally mine, yet.”
“Yet??” Peter squeaked, turning to look at Tony. “You’re not paying for my college, Mr. Stark??”
Tony laughed, genuinely sounding like what Peter said was the funniest thing in the world.
“Mr. Stark??”
Silence behind a shit-eating grin.
The car turned into the parking lot of the Tower.
“Mr. Stark??” Peter tried again, desperate, eyes wide as Titan.
“Come on, Friday has hot chocolate going.” Mr. Stark announced as he climbed from the vehicle, heading straight to the entrance to the private elevator.
“Mr. Stark??!” Peter cried, only a few steps behind.
“We can discuss it later. After we work on updating the heater in your suit. I’m this cold with a light breeze? I can’t imagine how frigid it is at two am when you’re fighting half of New York.”
“Old bones.” Peter mumbled, hoping to try to have the college tuition talk later. Maybe he could speak to Pepper about talking Tony out of it. Sometimes he actually listened to her.
“Just for that? I’m only paying for tuition. You can’t have a wing named after you.”
Peter just stared, mouth agape, unsure if Mr. Stark was actually joking or if the glint in his eyes was sincerity.
Tony only beamed back, making a mental note to throw a few hundred thousand at MIT for a Spider-Man dorm or something to really rile the kid up.