Archive of Our Own ^beta

Happy

“I still don’t understand why we’re moving to Jersey,” Happy says, lugging a box of Tony’s electronics into the delivery drone waiting on the Avengers platform. “You hate Jersey.”

“First of all, I have never hated the glorious state of New Jersey. It’s a perfectly… fine place,” Tony counters, tapping away at his phone, not looking up. “Second, we are not moving. I am moving, you’re just doing the moving.”

“While we’re at it, why am I doing the moving? Don’t we have people for this sort of thing? Don’t we have bots?” Happy attempts to organize the storage containers into a stack, trying to make room for the many more he has to bring out of the workshop. Spatial thinking wasn’t his strong point.

Tony comes up behind him, slapping his shoulder good-naturedly but with his eyes still glued to his phone. “I would never think to deprive you of bonding time with me, Haps. Besides, you’re the only one I would ever trust with Dum-E. You wouldn’t want something to happen to him, would you?”

“Of course not, Tony,” Hap grumbles.

“Well then–”

“But I still don’t get why Jersey. We just finished moving HQ uptown and now you’re moving to a whole different state? I worked really hard on the residences and now–”

“And you did a great–”

“–you're not even taking the full staff–”

“Just none of the live-in–”

“–it's like the move from Malibu, only you'll be alone–”

“I'm not going anywhere, Hap–”

“Then why am I loading boxes to send you away?” Happy finishes loudly, with far more emotion than he was planning. Shit.

It's just... Happy had worked hard on the new Avengers compound. It was a high-tech, well-designed masterpiece – one that his boss had just dumped for a warehouse in the garden state. A warehouse that he was, very noticeably, moving into alone. Leaving all of them behind.

Tony finally looks away from his phone, giving Happy a hard look from behind his sunglasses. “Don't be an idiot, Hap,” he says. “I'm not going anywhere. HQ just isn’t the right place for me, anymore. I want to try something new and, well, Jersey is the best place to do that from.”

“Because of Pep–”

“No, really, I swear,” Tony continues, emphatically. “I just really need to get out of New York for a while. It has nothing to do with you guys.”

Happy nods slowly, trying to believe him. “But what about the Avengers? And SI? Your whole life is in New York.”

“Enough already, Hap.” Tony turns back to his phone. “It will be fine. I take a flying suit to work, I’m not worried about the commute.”

True.

“Besides,” Tony adds, heading back inside. “There’s hardly any red-tape in Jersey. I’ll finally be able to have Quinjet parking in an urban area.”

“That’s just because everything is legal in Jersey!” Happy shouts after him. Grumbling, he turns back to the boxes at hand. Maybe he can convince Vision to help with the next set.

———

Pepper

Pepper had always known there was something weird about Tony’s move to Jersey… she just hadn’t scheduled time to find out what it was. While she could admit – at least to herself – that their breakup had made it difficult for her to even think about Tony, the oversight wasn't completely her fault. FRIDAY had alerted her of the planned move during the chaos of third quarter returns, and then the building purchase went through just as she was heading off to Rio to handle a rogue SI coup. By the time she had returned, triumphant, to New York, the drone carrying Dum-E had long-since flown out of the old Avengers tower. She had belatedly considered confronting Tony on it, but Happy talked her out of it. “He seems happier there,” Happy had said, shrugging it off. So instead she reminded herself that getting Tony to communicate his feelings was a job she quit when they broke up.

Even still, it wasn't until she was standing in Tony’s new home that it actually clicked. Tony Stark lived in New Jersey.

“It's…” she hesitates, peering around the enormous living area, all glass and technology. “...actually quite nice.”

Tony chuckles. “You sound surprised.”

“I am,” she admits. Tony’s warehouse doesn’t seem like one at all. Instead, it reminded her of their Malibu home, with wide views over the water and an impossible sense of privacy despite the surrounding city. Yet unlike Malibu, there’s no staff taking up space – just her, Tony, FRIDAY and the domineering presence of Iron Man suits scattered around. Tony had clearly given up the pretense of separating work and life, letting his living room flow straight into a lab. It was a familiar – almost comforting – sight, though she notes the added workbench of chemistry equipment in the corner.

Tony himself is sitting on a stool by his beloved espresso machine, sipping black coffee out of a mug shaped like Hulk’s fist. It had been a Valentine’s gift.

“Well, you said you were moving into a warehouse in Hoboken,” she continues sardonically, shaking off the memories. “Excuse me for imagining the worst.”

“A converted warehouse – I still have some taste, you know.” he corrects, and then moves to fix her her own cup of coffee. Watching him stir in just the right amount of milk is too familiar, so she opens her briefcase to pull out the secured tablet full of contracts for his approval. You’re here on business, she reminds herself.

Tony is surprisingly cooperative, reviewing the documents with a careful eye and spotting a subtle – but critical – loophole that their lawyers had missed. She tags it with a frown, making a note to have a stern word with the team when she returns to the office.

Once he’s done, Tony pulls out his own tablet and sends her a new folder of documents. “I want you to look into buying up the city’s water filtration systems this year. I’ll need total control over at least one location in the next two months to test a new treatment procedure. If it works in the city, I want the next major deployment to be in Lagos. It'll a completely different setup, and we’ll have to invest significant capital just on infrastructure, but I already have the minister of health on board.”

Pepper frowns, flicking through the files Tony’s prepared. “Since when are we in the water business? I haven’t seen any team reports on this.”

“Eh–” Tony waves his hand vaguely. “It’s a passion project – just something I’ve been working on with Peter.”

Pepper’s mind blanks for a second. “Peter… you mean Spiderboy?”

“Spider-Man – but, yes. That’s him. You know I gave him an internship.”

“I thought that was just a cover.” Pepper’s frown deepens. “I didn’t know you had him on the payroll. He’s working for you directly? You don't have him coming all the way out here, do you? Isn’t he from Queens?”

Tony shrugs in that casual way that tells Pepper nothing. “He’s smart, Pep, of course he’s working with me. And you make it sound like Jersey is keeping me prisoner. I’m in and out of the tower all the time, to deal with the R&D guys and use the lab,” he says, waving his hands towards the window, pointing back towards Manhattan. “And then there’s the HQ for avengering – it’s just a few extra commutes. Keeps me in shape.”

“Is that what this move was about? Some kind of midlife crisis?” Pepper smiles. “Tony, you've had at least seven of those already – the last one involved moving a bunch of superheroes into our home.”

Tony gives her a long look at that; she should probably stop referring to things as “our”, but even before they were a couple, Tony had moved her into his life. It was still… disconcerting to wake up in a building where Tony wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t call it a mid-life crisis, Pep,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Trust me. I'm just being... responsible.”

“Responsible for what–”

But Pepper is interrupted by FRIDAY’s voice filling the room. “Mr. Stark, you have a call from Mr. Parker. He’s insisting it’s an emergency.”

“Speak of the devil. Patch him through, FRIDAY.” Tony is already off the stool. “Look, Pepper, I gotta go–”

“Finally!” Peter’s voice interrupts, filling the room. “Tony, Tony, Tony – I need you in Midtown, like, now!”

“Slow down kid, I’m on my way.” His suit is already flying towards him, as he sets down his mug on the bar. Sunlight starts streaming in as – oh! – the roof opens up above them. When did he find the time for these renovations?

“I step out for, like, 5 minutes between classes. I really needed one of those chocolate milkshakes from King's – you know, the one with those amazing sombrero straws? And then these assholes turn up trying to rob the place – I mean, who does that? Mr King is, like, the nicest guy and everyone knows he is uninsured – and now I am literally stuck to them and class starts in 10 minutes. It’s that Spanish test? I just need–”

The speaker cuts off, as the call must have transferred to Tony’s helmet. Tony – no, Iron Man, she forces herself to think – gives her a little wave as he jets up and out.

“Sorry Pep – duty calls! Catch up later, yeah?”

He's gone before she even opens her mouth to respond. Because, of course he is.

It’s fine, she reminds herself, locking down her tablet and putting it away. Just Tony being Tony.

As she grabs her purse and calls her driver to meet her out front, a jacket on the workbench catches her eye. Yellow really isn’t Tony’s color.

———

Bruce

It’s all Thor’s fault, really.

“A warrior does not hide from his friends, brother!” Thor had bellowed at him, forcing more craft beer down his throat. “And you and Stark are far more than friends – you are family! Put an end to this madness, you’ll feel all the better for it.”

He’d heard it all before – Thor got repetitive when he was drunk, which was also his permanent state of being – but for some reason it was that last time that really made it stick. Damn it, he had thought. I really do miss that asshole.

The Guardians drop him off in Singapore, for inexplicable reasons, and he has to catch a regular-old-human flight to New York. Which means he is drunk from exhaustion – it had been 30 hours since he’d last slept (in space) – when he finally finds himself standing in front of Tony. Even looking at him, he’s still not completely convinced Happy wasn’t having him on. Because, really? Jersey?

“Bruce!” He finds himself dropping his bag, arms full of a manic billionaire who seems to be clinging to him for dear life.

I guess Hap wasn’t kidding.

“Hi, Tony,” he says softly, nerves fluttering in his stomach once again.

“Let me get a good look at you,” Tony pulled back. “Yeah, you look like shit. C’mon, let me grab you a drink. You’re staying here, by the way – no debates, no questions. I’ve been too long without my science bro and I won’t be letting you escape again so easily.”

In another life, he would have gotten angry at someone just taking over – but not with Tony. It was Tony’s way and, to be honest, Bruce really had missed it. He was ushered through to a living area with a bar, as Tony tried to recap a year of scientific breakthroughs with his usual hand-waving accuracy.

“Take a seat, I want to hear everything, but first! You must meet Peter. Peter – this is Bruce, my brother from another mother. Bruce, this is Peter.”

And that was the power of Tony Stark. He’ll vomit so much charisma and brains all over you, that you miss the eager young stranger bouncing just three feet away.

“Hi Dr. Banner!” the guy – Peter – says eagerly, grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously. “I’m so excited to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you! I loved your work on micro-plastic waste reduction through dynamic polymer usage. In fact, I'm kinda looking at how it could be used for sewage processing plants? You see, if we can improve the hydraulic performance in commercial facilities, we can–”

“Peter, at least let go of the guy’s hand before you start talking fluid dynamics,” Tony interrupts, coming to stand behind him, hand on his shoulders.

“Ah, sorry Dr. Banner! It’s just – I am a big fan of your work.” The kid drops his hand like a hot coal, leaning into Tony slightly.

And Bruce? Bruce really doesn’t know what to say to the enthusiastic young man. Don’t idolize me, I almost destroyed the world? My micro-plastic research was never meant for that kind of application? Are you my replacement?

“Are you my replacement?”

Crap – that one slipped out.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hulkster.” Tony smiles nervously, while Peter turns bright red. “Peter’s a chemist – I don’t understand half of what he says. Whereas I know your thoughts before they come out of your mouth.”

As if that wasn’t the truth.

As an uncomfortable silence falls, Bruce realizes he’s put his foot in his mouth yet again.

“Sorry, I’ve been up for 30 hours,” he apologizes to the kid, forcing a smile. “I’d like to hear more about this idea of yours once my higher brain function returns.”

It was half-assed at best, but he sees tension leave Tony’s shoulders at his words. Peter, meanwhile, looks like he’s just won the lottery.

“Oh really? Wow, that would be great, Dr. Banner. Tony has really helped me iron out the structural components but I need someone with more of a biological background to really–”

“Pete–” Tony starts.

“Sorry- sorry, of course you’re tired. I’ll let you guys catch up. I have to leave anyways – takes me almost an hour on the train this time of day – unless someone decides to play with the switch brakes again. That was a fun commute. Anyhow, I look forward to discussing this project, officially, Dr. Banner.” Peter thrusts his hand forward again, as if to seal the deal. Charmed, Bruce lets him – though happily he gets it back after just a single shake.

“Commute?” Bruce doesn’t care, and so could only cite exhaustion for running his mouth.

“Peter lives out in Queens at the moment, for family reasons.” Tony waves his hand, as though that explained something.

Peter frowns, but then nods seriously. Bruce gives up trying to understand what is going on.

“Well, hope to see you around,” he says, faking another smile.

Four hours later, Bruce still hasn’t had a nap.

Instead, he finds himself on Tony’s new terrace, overlooking the water and having just polished off a bottle of scotch with the billionaire. Emotionally drained from apologies he didn’t know he needed, and warm from camaraderie he had longed for for months. Thor had tried to fill the gap, but he was no Tony.

“I’m glad you agreed to look at Peter’s work,” Tony says, out of nowhere, interrupting Bruce’s story about Thor’s new bunk mate. “He wasn’t kidding when he said he was a big fan. And I think his project has real potential.”

Tony is swirling an empty glass, looking into it like it would suddenly refill. Hell, maybe it would. Now there was an idea – why wasn’t SI working on that?

“Er, yeah, sure,” Bruce says, distracted and maybe a bit drunk. He had honestly forgotten about Peter as soon as the guy had left. “What R&D group is he working in?”

“Oh no, Peter’s not staff,” Tony chuckles, meeting his eyes. “He is a part-time Avenger, full-time whizz-kid. I’ve got a workstation for him in the lab for the ideas that might lead to explosions. He’s going to love having you in there – whenever he tries to brainstorm about cell development, my brain goes into sleep mode.”

Whizz-Kid. Bruce thinks back to the earlier meeting – Peter had a face that looked just out of puberty, but his broad shoulders and arms were those of a man. He was young, probably barely out of his teens.

“We’re recruiting college kids for super-heroing, now?” Bruce frowns.

Tony looks back at his glass briefly, before rising and heading back in for another bottle.

“He knows what he’s doing out there, don’t worry about that,” he calls back. “He was supportive during the whole… thing with Steve last year.”

Bruce feels a wave of shame rise over him – shame for not being at Tony’s side, for not being at Steve’s side – and then anger at the both of them for even having sides in the first place.

But they had already gone through this, spent hours going through this. So Bruce takes a breath and lets it go, focusing instead on Tony here and now.

Kid.

Bruce pushes himself off the deck-chair, following Tony inside.

Tony stands at the bar, tension back in his shoulders, concentrating far too much on the bottle at hand. This was about something more than the passing mention of Steve. Tony seemed to be gearing up for something – for saying something.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Tony?”

Sensing the shift in tone, Tony stills – bottle of whiskey still in hand, mid-pour – and gives him the once over. Whatever it is he sees leads him to change tack.

“I am not trying to hide anything, I promise,” he sighs. “I just didn’t know how the fuck to bring it up without sounding like an idiot. I didn’t want to get into the Avengers crap, so I thought, science! Bruce loves science and Peter is all about science. But I guess I am fucking that up too. This… thing didn’t come with a manual. Pepper was easy – everyone knew Pep. I didn’t have to go around introducing her.”

“Oh,” Bruce interrupts, realization dawning on him. “You’re sleeping with him.”

“Uh–”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Bruce rolls his eyes; Tony never does anything simply.

Tony stares at him, frozen. “I– well, I thought- I mean, we are, but we’re…” Tony frowns, taking a moment. “That’s really all you have to say?”

Though serious, Tony and Pepper had had an on-and-off again relationship while Bruce had known them – and Tony hadn’t stayed celibate during the “off seasons”. It certainly wasn’t something they talked about, but Bruce supposed that sleeping with a fellow Avenger required a bit of discussion.

Bruce shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like you to sleep where you eat, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You and Pep have been apart for a while. Just make sure you let him down easy – if he’s that good of a scientist and an Avenger, we’ll want to keep him around.”

He grabs the bottle out of Tony’s still hand, topping up his own drink.

“Oh–” Tony suddenly restarts, realization seeming to dawn on him. “No, no. See, shit, okay. Well, it’s a little more than that, Bruce. It’s…”

Tony looks like he is struggling, and Bruce can feel his frustration mount. Did he think I would be weird about the gay thing? While he and Tony had never discussed it, it wasn’t much of a stretch for Bruce to see him as bisexual.

“Jesus, Tony,” Bruce says, exasperated. “Just use your words.”

“Fine- Fine! We’re dating. Trying to date? We’re partners in training? Fuck, I don’t know the words, Bruce, okay?” Tony blurts out, before grabbing the bottle back from Bruce and drinking straight from the neck.

Oh.

“Oh.”

In the awkward silence that follows, Bruce wishes he had had that nap. He was supposed to be a genius, here.

It must have been the college-kid thing that threw me off, he thinks. Other than Pepper, Tony had never introduced his friends to any of the people they’d see leaving the tower after an overnight. Hell, he hadn’t even kept them around for breakfast. This kid, though, was an Avenger with space in Tony’s personal lab. Bruce should have spotted it immediately.

Kid.

“Well, okay then.” Bruce tries to smile. “I guess I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there, after Pep. If he’s an Avenger, maybe things will be a little easier for you guys. I’ll be on better behavior next time I meet him, I promise.”

Tony smiles weakly, gripping the whiskey.

“Thanks, Bruce,” he says. “I just… you’re the first person I’ve told. I can’t really talk to Pep about it, and Rhodey is still focused on his recovery and I– I just wanted to tell someone.”

“Of course, Tony.” Bruce feels guilty for his earlier thoughts. Tony was one of his best friends, heading into a new relationship after losing the love of his life. He is probably supposed to be more supportive.

So he chooses his next words carefully. “Are you guys on the same page? He seems a little young for something… settled.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tony had taken to rocking the whiskey bottle on the bar counter,  keeping his hands busy. “I've thought about that. But if I trust him to have my back out on the field, then I have to trust him when he tells me what he wants in life. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Right. So, I’ve decided not to worry about it. When I was his age, I knew exactly what I wanted. Maybe they weren’t the best things in life, but I would have been pissed if people had acted like I didn’t know what I was doing.”

Bruce thinks back to his awkward, early years in college. How much he had just wanted to throw himself into his research. How much he had just wanted to be left alone. How he was exactly the same person now.

“Well then, I’ll look forward to spending more time with him, Tony.” Bruce laughs. “I’d have thought you were too old for young love, but I guess there’s hope for you yet.”

“Nothing young about it,” Tony says, smiling. “We are both consenting adults – I got it on paper and everything.”

———

Ned

“Dude, why were you googling ‘how to give a blowjob’?”

Over the intercom, Ned hears a thump, a cat scream and an irate “Watch it, Crawly boy!”.

“Sorry, sir!” Peter shouts back, sounding somewhat panicked and out of breath.

“You okay there, dude?”

“No, I am not okay!” Peter says. “Are you going through my browser history? Stop going through my browser history! Who even does that? Not cool dude, I–”

“Look man, it was an accident, I swear. I know better than that.”

“Except–”

“Except when you said these weapon dealers might be part of ‘The Hand’ I ran a comprehensive search of our systems to see what other info we had on them. Are you still on their tail?”

“Barely, they're–”

“Anyways, then certain results came up. Results that I really shouldn't have clicked on, and now can not unsee. Dude, are you gay? Why didn't you tell me? I tell you everything. Turn right up here, you can cut them off–”

“Thanks, I–”

“You know I don't care if you're gay, right? My uncle Hector has been out my whole life. We stay with him and his husband every Christmas.”

“I know, Ned–”

“Why are you googling instructionals, anyhow? There are hardly any out guys in our school, and you're way out of their league. So who would you be practicing on? Oh man, is this a spider-bendy thing? You know what, forget I ask–”

“No! I mean–”

“Though actually, that's something you totally would have bragged about. ‘Hey Ned, I'm an Avenger with 24hr access to fellatio. Ask me how.’”

“I don't talk like–”

“They are almost at the bridge, you're going to want to cut across the park.”

“On it.”

“Don't tell me you're on grindr. If you aren't out with your BFF, you shouldn't be using a hookup app. That's like, a rule or something.”

“Of course I’m not! I- wait, you said the bridge, right?”

“Right.”

“There is no one here.”

“Impossible!”

Distracted from his inquisition, Ned spends the next hour taking Peter block by block, trying to find where the truck had gone. No luck. It was like it had vanished into thin air, which was weird, but not the weirdest thing he’d seen in New York.

Once they finally give up the hunt, Peter swings his way back to their ‘base command’. It was a tiny studio apartment with rooftop access, right above King's Malt Shop. Peter called it a SHIELD outpost, but Ned had never seen anyone else use the place, and the only IT set-up they had was Peter's Starkbook, an extra screen and Ned’s lagging MacBook.

“I'll let the Avengers know about the weapons truck,” Peter says, removing his mask. “I managed to knock off one of the small crates they had – I put it up on the roof – and it’s full of the weirdest looking guns I’ve ever seen. Maybe they can use it to find something we missed.”

“We missed nothing, man! I'm telling you, they have an invisible jet or something.”

Peter smiles, plopping down next to him and slapping him on the back. “Yeah, well maybe Tony can track invisible jets. It sounds like something that would be in his skill-set.”

Oh.

Tony.

All that time Peter has been spending out in Jersey, despite Stark HQ being based in Manhattan. The way Iron Man has been constantly showing up to help with missions – even purse snatchings. All the “Tony says” and “Tony thinks” and “Tony, Tony, Tony” that Ned has been listening to for the past few months.

Wow, it was really obvious, now that he thinks about it.

“Dude! Are you dating Iron Man?”

Peter drops the mask still in his hand, face flaming up.

“Damn... you are!” Ned jumps out of his seat in his excitement. “I can’t believe you haven’t told anyone – again! You’re a super-famous superhero dating the richest, most awesome guy–”

“Ned–”

“–on the planet who, you know, just happens to have saved the world a few dozen times. And you keep it to yourself? Not cool!”

“I know–”

“Peter.” Ned grabs Peter's shoulders, leaning down over him, face alight with delight. “This is the most incredible thing that has ever happened in my life and it isn’t even happening to me. Wait until everyone finds out!”

“No! Stop- just- no, Ned! No one can find out.”

What?

“What–”

“I can’t tell anyone, Ned.” Peter looks horrified, moving out from under Ned’s hands to stand and pointing a shaky finger him. “And neither can you! God, promise me you won’t tell anyone?”

“But... why not?”

“‘Why not?’ I’m a sixteen-year-old no one and he’s… he’s Iron Man!”

“Yeah, well, you’re Spider-Man!”

“Sure, to you – to Tony. But if Peter Parker starts dating Tony Stark, publicly, there will be a lot of questions and paparazzi and…”

“And?” Ned really wasn’t seeing the problem, but he could tell just from Peter’s face that there was one. He was starting to turn a little green, looking more nervous than Ned had ever seen him.

“And... I’ve just started getting into the… swing of this superheroing thing. I’m not ready to mix it up just yet.”

Peter slumps down onto Ned’s vacated chair, blinking quickly and starting to shake slightly. Ned knows he has to tone this down before Peter starts crying. Neither of them ever enjoys that.

“Okay so, no telling… for now, right?” he says, after a few moments. “It’s just… dude, I don’t think I can keep this many secrets. First I find out you’re Spider-Man, then I get to be the guy in the chair and now? I don't even get to tell Flash that my BFF is literally dating the coolest person on the planet?”

Peter smiles at that, “He is pretty great.”

Ned grins back. “So, eventually right? And now that I know, can I finally come along on one of your visits to Jersey? You still haven’t shown me the lab.”

“Yeah, I… yeah, man. Of course. Tony would be happy to have you over.”

"Awesome!" If anything calls for a blowout happy dance, it's that. Peter laughs at his attempts at a victory floss, and tries to give pointers.

Later, as they're packing up to head home, Peter stops Ned with a hand on his shoulder. “Look, uh– I just want to say, uh, thanks. Thanks for taking the whole dating... thing so well. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

Well, talk about insulting. “Dude, I thought we already went over the fact that I’m not a homophobe.”

Peter shoves his hand in his hair, trying to look nonchalant. Failing at it. “Not the gay thing but… you know... the age thing.”

Oh yeah.

“Oh, uh…” Ned had honestly been distracted by the whole 'dating Iron Man' thing, he hadn’t stopped to think about how Tony Stark was probably Uncle Hector’s age. Probably his dad’s age. Which, now that he does think about it, is a bit gross… like, more than a bit gross. The thought of doing the same makes him want to peel his own skin off.

But, seeing his friend’s face red with embarrassment and growing increasingly more uncomfortable as his silence goes on, Ned decides to try something new: tact.

“Well,” Ned starts again, “I guess he’s not that much older. Besides, loads of super-old straight guys have younger wives. So yeah, it’s a bit… different, but it’s not unusual.”

“Right,” Peter says eagerly. “Exactly! If Tony were a woman, or if I were a woman, I doubt I’d even worry about it! Even if he is in his forties. Besides, I know I am not a kid and surely that’s what matters? New York is the worst.”

As he nods in agreement, Ned wonders what the hell New York had done to piss Peter off… before deciding to ask some other time.

———

May

“Peter Benjamin Parker, come out here right now.” May pounds on the bathroom door, percussion beats shaking the thin wood in its frame.

“I'm in the shower, May!” Peter shouts.

“Get out here, Peter!” she knocks at each word, beyond furious at the door, the hall, at Mister Tony-fucking-Stark. “Get out here right now, and explain exactly what I found in this little bag of yours.”

She hears a thud and a long scratch and–

“You better not have torn that shower curtain!”

“It's fine, May! Totally fine and–” The door opens to a very wet, panicked looking Peter. He is grabbing at a towel around his waist, but clearly hadn’t paused to dry off. Good.

“I can explain–” he starts.

“You can explain? How exactly–”

“–it's not what–”

“–what it looks like? Of course it is, Peter. This is exactly what I warned you about!”

“It’s not, er–” Peter suddenly stops, tilting his head. “I-I-I'm sorry… what-what are we talking–”

“What are we–” May starts, before lifting her hand and waving a small piece of plastic in Peter’s face. “This family is talking about this!”

She completes the gesture by shoving the incriminating black Stark AmEx into Peter’s chest. He struggles to grasp it while keeping up his towel, blank faced and blinking stupidly.

“I told Stark when you started your internship that we were doing just fine, financially,” she continues. “That the standard intern allowance was more than enough – no help needed, thank you. And now I find this? He can’t buy his way into this house like some rich uncle and you should know better than to accept such a thing.”

Peter stays silent, still dripping onto the floor.

“When he turned up here all those months ago, promising all these big dreams, I told you that we were not going to be the source of charity. That we would do honest work to get ahead and just because Iron Man–” May tries to inject as much mirth into the words as possible “-recognised your god-given talents, we were not going to jump the line. He is a billionaire who can do whatever he likes. We are held to higher standards, Peter.”

Now the kid is swaying slightly and shivering – staring at his feet like they were the cause of his problems. He looks so much like his father, so much like Ben.

And with that thought, all the anger drains out of May. Maybe she had over reacted… slightly.

May steps back, taking a few breaths to calm herself. He is a kid who has idolized Iron Man his entire life, she reminds herself. She needs to handle this better. She needs to be better.

“Petey, just…” she sighs. “Go put on some pants. I’ll wait in the kitchen.”

May makes her way out of the bathroom and sets about making them coffee, with a bit of something stronger in hers, just to take off the edge. Ben would have handled that differently.

Ben would have reminded her that Peter wouldn’t have seen the problem with accepting a handout disguised as a gift. That Peter couldn’t have known that Tony Stark’s new-found interest in the undeserving youth was not something to be relied upon.

That Tony Stark was not going to stick around.

As Peter comes into the kitchen, his face seems set and he holds himself with more confidence than he had had in a towel. He’s almost a man, she thinks. Children are like that, growing up when you aren’t looking.

Almost a man – but not quite.

“I’m sorry I yelled, Petey.” She hands him his own coffee, half milk and sugar. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re carrying around a Stark credit card in your wallet.”

“It’s really not a big deal, Aunt May, really.” Peter clutches at his mug. “Tony- Mr. Stark- gave it to me for equipment expenses when I started off there.” He sips his coffee carefully, looking her in the eyes like he had nothing to hide.

He always does that when he lies. Has since he was a boy.

“Mmhmm.” She takes a sip of her own drink. “If it is only for business expenses, why are you carrying it around all the time?”

“I’m not–”

“You have it right behind your school ID, Peter. That’s not how people treat occasional-use items.”

“Why were you–”

“First of all, I don’t have to explain myself here, mister. But as you may recall, you asked me to get you a new bus pass. I thought I’d be helpful and put it away.”

“Oh, uh, thanks...”

“So, if it isn’t for business, explain.”

“I- uh…. I, well, I just keep it because…. Well, Mr. Stark suggested – that is, he said that…” Peter trails off, as whatever earlier confidence he had slowly leaves him. He starts gulping desperately at his coffee, as if she’s given him the mug with brandy in it.

May sighs, trying to channel some of Ben’s patience from beyond the grave. “Go on, it’s okay. What did Mr. Stark suggest?”

“Uh, well,” Peter mumbles, addressing his nearly empty cup. “So, I really did get it for business stuff. There was actually quite a bit of equipment his lab didn’t have on hand for the more chemical-based tests I was running – Mr. Stark really has more of an engineering approach to issues, you know? I tried to have his AI order it, but Tony said a real engineer should get a feel for their equipment first and I should go pick out what I needed in person? So, like, I did! Remember, I told you about that?”

And May did remember, now that he mentioned it. It was all Peter could talk about for an entire weekend.

“Okay, Petey, but that was something like six months ago,” she says.

“I know, and I totally tried to give it back afterwards. Mr. Stark had said I could keep it, when he first gave it to me, but I knew I just wouldn’t feel comfortable carrying it around. Like, what if I lost it or something? So I left it with him saying, like, ‘thanks, but I’m good’.

“But then he kept bringing it up. Not nagging or anything. But just saying that he’d be happy if I kept it – even if I didn't use it. Just in case of emergencies. Like, what if the train broke down and I needed a car to get me home or to the tower? Or, like, what if a pipe burst and we needed to pay a plumber immediately? We don’t have that kind of cash on hand, and while I know Mr. Stark would help with whatever, sometimes he has missions and board meetings and, like, he can’t be there immediately.

“He really seemed worried about it, and he kept saying it wasn’t about the money? Like, he was just worried he’d let m- er, us- down… so I kept it. And then I put it behind my ID where I wouldn’t have to worry about it, and that’s where it has been ever since.”

He looks up, smiling slightly, satisfied with his explanation. As if it had made any sense.

“Okay Petey.” She nods, taking a moment to think. A moment to parse out what he had told her. Peter has always been such a trusting kid, she reminds herself. She feels bad, in a way, for having to confront him at all on this. But it has to be done. “I wish you had told me about it from the beginning, but I understand.”

The baffled look on his face is adorable. “You… understand?”

“Of course I do, sweetie,” she says, putting her mug down and reaching out to grab his hands, “I wish you had told me so that we could have talked about how to give it back without being rude.”

“Wait… what? Why would we do that?”

“Petey, you just said you didn’t want to keep it. Of course it should go. Apparently we just need to work on your ability to say no to billionaires.” May smiles, looking for an answering grin.

She doesn’t get one.

“I just… it's not a big deal, Aunt May,” Peter says, uncomfortable. “I don’t see why I should have to tell Tony to take it back.”

May sighs. “Because it isn’t your money, Peter.”

“I know that.”

“And while I appreciate the thought, it isn’t up to Mr. Stark to pay for our pipes – fictional or otherwise. That’s what family is for.”

“But- Tony is-” Peter stutters. “Tony is family.”

Well, shit. May didn’t know how to explain this to Peter – didn’t want to explain it to Peter. To Petey, who had idolized Iron Man since he could fit into the merchandise. Who was working with his idol. Who seems to have forgotten that his mentor was a legendary skirt-chaser.

“Petey, honey, I understand that you really like Mr. Stark. That he has been nothing but supportive of you and, well, me, by extension. But he is never going to be a father figure, Peter. I’m not interested in him and he is–”

“No, no, no- oh my God, May, eww, no!” Peter snatches his hands back from her to stand, splashing his remaining coffee. “Tony is not trying to- ugh, just no! Absolutely not.”

“Peter, I may not be 25 but I know when a man is interested. And when he came by that first time–”

“That was almost a year ago and- and- and flirting is basically his default programming!” Peter looks down at the tablecloth he has just stained, quickly grabbing a napkin to frantically dab at the mess and avoiding her eyes. “He isn’t… after you or whatever. Trust me. You really don’t have to worry about that.”

“Are you sure–”

“I’m really, really, really sure. I said he was basically family, and not an – ugh – uncle, or whatever. Trust me, that’s not on the table.” Peter seems horrified by the very thought. While May’s ego was certainly taking a bruising – she was no spring chicken but neither was Iron Man – she was somewhat swayed by his conviction.

Even still, billionaires don’t hand out credit cards without getting something out of it. Her skepticism must have read on her face, because Peter keeps going.

“Besides, he- he- Mr. Stark, that is - he’s in a relationship,” he says softly. “A serious relationship. I mean, I am pretty sure it is serious – at least, uh, based on what he tells me. So yeah, you really don’t need to worry about that, Aunt May. He isn’t trying to… hit on you through me, or- or whatever.”

“Oh.” May hadn’t heard of anyone new since Pepper Potts, but to be fair she doesn’t follow the tabloids.

Peter is still gripping the stained tablecloth between them. “Tony was just trying to be nice with the card. He doesn’t like it when he can’t fix things. And money can fix a lot of things.”

May nods, thinking about how much money would have helped during those first few months – first few years – after Ben died. She had hardly had time to grieve, as she struggled to pay off the funeral home, the mortgage and Ben's mother’s nursing home fees.

Money wouldn't have brought him back, but it would have made some things a lot easier.

“Okay, Petey. C’mere and give me a hug.”

Peter shuffles forward, making space under her arm. He still fits in next to her, the way he had as a boy.

“I’m sorry I over-reacted. As long as you are being smart, you should keep whatever you like,” she says, rubbing his shoulder. “Just promise me you won't pay for the rent with that thing.”

Peter laughs, shaking his head.

“And you know,” she continues, “you can talk to me next time. If Mr. Stark is going to be sticking around as your mentor, something like this will come up again. Talk to me first and we can go over it before it is an issue, ok?”

Peter smiles and she counts herself as a lucky aunt.

(Looking back on that moment later, May realizes he never actually agreed to a thing.)

———

Rhodey

Rhodey notices immediately.

Tony smiles too widely, his gaze lingers too long. And Peter is no better, wide eyes looking to Tony every few seconds, for reassurance and just to look. It’s subtle – so subtle, that he’s sure even the spies in the room have missed it – but it is there.

His best friend is sleeping with a sixteen-year-old and, now that he knows, it has suddenly become his problem. Rhodey wants to sigh – he’s tired just thinking about it.

Rhodey has been put in a lot of crazy Tony Stark situations, but this one may be the worst yet. Tony has rebounded so hard he is swinging into jail. And if by some miracle that doesn’t happen, he is going to get himself beaten up by said rebound when he realizes that dumping a super-powered teen can lead to more than a face full of champagne. Not to mention that Peter is one of the few superheros that isn't on the run, battling some sort of mental or physical injury, or just hanging out in space. They literally cannot afford the band breaking up any more than it already has.

Rhodey must have been staring too long, because Tony turns to face him with a silent questioning tilt of the head. But upon seeing his expression, Tony's face turns pale and… sad?

Great, now Rhodey feels bad. He makes himself turn his attention back on Fury.

“Spider-Man tracked the Hand just to the edge of Hell's Kitchen before they vanished.” Fury points to a landmark in the 3D city map floating over the conference table. The room is pretty full, with SHIELD agents hovering on the side, Vision sitting beside Rhodey and the newly discovered wizard next to Tony. (Rhodey thinks his name may be Steve, but really doesn’t want to say that name in case he’s wrong.)

Fury continues: “Now, from what Dr. Strange could determine, it isn’t a secret tunnel or anything so mundane – but rather an inter-dimensional portal. To where, we have no idea. But if the Hand is combining magic with tech that we’ve never seen before, that means bad shit for everyone.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Dr. Strange interjects. “There isn’t a single recorded instance of arcane magic being used with technology this way. That either means it’s never been done before – so we have no idea how to separate them once combined – or it has been done – but no one lived to tell the tale.”

“Wonderful,” Rhodey deadpans. “My day just keeps getting better.”

He sees Tony wince slightly at that, and resolves not to feel guilty about it.

It takes another 30 minutes to come up with a plan – and to agree that they need a second opinion. Tony and Bruce have some sort of pulse that should be able to disable the tech, and the wizard finally admits to having a generic way to loop most spell castings. But the combined effect might just shut down the city.

So, a field test in Wakanda it is. If Shuri tells them they’re crazy, it’s back to the drawing board.

“You all know what to do – now get to it before someone else dies,” Fury concludes, wrapping up the meeting with his usual grace. The room begins to empty immediately. “And good work, Spider-Man. You keep not fucking up, we’ll think about adding you to the roster officially.”

“Oh I’m not- I mean, thank you, sir, I’m always happy to help when I can.” Peter trips on his words, looking awkward. “But I’m doing good work in Queens, and I’m not sure how I’d manage that as a full-time Avenger and–”

“Don’t worry about it yet, Pete.” Tony puts his hand on the kid’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “The team will be here if you ever want the job, but I know Queens comes first.”

Interesting.

Fury seems mildly put out, leaving the room shouting something at Vision, and all at once it is just him, Tony and Peter left in an awkward silence.

Tony drops his hand from Peter’s shoulder, looking awkwardly between them. “Pete, why don’t you go grab some lunch from the mess before heading out. I need to go over a few details with honey bear, and it may take a while. Hap can drive you home.”

Peter looks puzzled. “Happy doesn’t drive you anymore, Tony. I can just stay–”

“Happy can find someone to take you – or finally just take one of the cars yourself, you have your license, you–”

“And park it where exactly? Besides, MJ will stop talking to me if I become a wheel in the cog of urban sprawl. If we don’t support public transport it will never–”

“I know, I know, I agree, just–” Tony’s got one hand in his hand in his hair, the other in his jeans pocket, looking more like an awkward teenager than Peter himself. “Just- we're going to be a while, Pete.”

Peter finally seems to notice the tension in the room and nods, relenting. He turns instead to Rhodey, voice and posture turning somewhat professional. “It was nice to meet you, Colonel Rhodes – officially, I mean. I look forward to getting to know you better. In work or in- yeah- I just mean, it was nice to meet you.”

Rhodey just about manages to hold back a smile. “You too, Spider-Man.”

As Peter ducks out, Rhodey turns his attention back to Tony. The man is already on the move, hands on Rhodey’s side and helping him out of his chair. “Before you start, let’s get you into the new braces and go somewhere with fewer SHIELD agents wandering around.”

They make their way to Avengers-only level, making small talk about the latest features of Rhodey’s new leg braces. Tony wants to add thrusters (because of course he does) and Rhodey knows he’s going to get a special feature version of the legs despite his protests.

When they finally get to Tony’s private rooms, Rhodey makes a b-line for the mini bar. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging any more bad habits in Tony, but there’s no way he is having this conversation without a drink in hand.

“FRIDAY, put this room in dark mode and let me know if anyone comes up to the level,” Tony says, ignoring the bar himself to flop down on the sofa, hand thrown dramatically over his face. “So, Rhodey, how are you really doing? Still forgive me for ruining your legs? Speaking of anger, have you seen Bruce since he came back? We should have a reunion dinner or something. That’s what teams do, right? Great, I’ll schedule it. Me? Eh, a few changes. I moved to New Jersey so that I could date a teenage superhero and it’s going surprisingly well? Pepper always did say I had the maturity of a fourteen-year-old boy. What do you think? Have I developed at all since we met at MIT?”

By the time he’s done, Rhodey is settled in the seat across from him, five sips into his beer, and suddenly ready to laugh.

So, he does.

Tony drops his hand to glare at him, and it only makes Rhodey laugh harder. His sniggers morphing into chuckles at the look of complete outrage on his best friend’s face.

“Are you- You’re laughing at me?” Tony looks utterly affronted. “I try to open up about my feelings and you laugh. FRIDAY, are you seeing this?”

“You requested black out mode, sir,” FRIDAY’s voice says overhead. “Depriving me of what sounds like an excellent bout of mockery.”

“Great, now I get it from you too,” Tony says sardonically.

Rhodey’s laughter slows and he turns his attention back to his drink for something else to focus on.

“I’m worried about you,” he says softly, his anger from earlier twisting into a ball of anxiety in his gut.

Tony looks suspicious. “You sure? Because I was expecting a lot more swearing, anger and maybe a kick in the balls with the new add-on.”

“Considered it. Worked past it. Decided on the more responsible approach. You know, like an adult?” Okay, so maybe he is still pissed.

Tony nods, seeming almost relieved at the show of emotion. “I know, trust me - I know,” he says. “And it may not look like it, but I’m aiming for the responsible approach too. Or, at least, I’m trying not to totally fuck it up.”

“Really, Tony? Because I don’t see how sleeping with a sixteen-year-old isn’t the definition of FUBAR.” Rhodey gulps down half his beer, trying to keep his voice level. Calm. Tony doubles down when you back him into a corner, and Rhodey doesn’t want that. “Even putting aside the fact that Peter’s literal jailbait, I don’t see how this is going to end well. What were you thinking?”

“I know, I know. When I stop and think about it…” Tony shakes his head, suddenly gone unusually quiet.

Rhodey lets the silence sit with them, waiting for his best friend to find his words. But as the quiet stretches over minutes, it takes all of Rhodey’s willpower to keep his mouth shut. It worries him even more, that Tony Stark - of all people - doesn’t know what to say.

He tries not to feel like a shitty friend. He should have been around after Germany, after Siberia. The loss of his legs had been a massive trauma, he just hadn’t had it in him to focus on anything else. If he had, maybe he would have noticed whatever the hell was going on with Tony.

“I know all the creeps use the ‘so mature’ line, I know,” Tony finally says, looking him briefly in the eyes, before turning to look out the window. Left hand twitching slightly before being clenched into a fist at his side. “Sure, he’s a genius – developed that web fluid in a fucking high school lab two years ago – but more importantly he’s a genuinely good person. He just wants to help people, save cats from trees, look out for the little guy. And for some reason, he doesn’t hate me. I kept waiting for the shine to rub off. Kept telling him things, about Howard, about Ultron – and he didn’t run screaming. He’s brave and kind, and a prolific liar, though you wouldn’t imagine it with that face.

“Howard would have killed to have had him as his son. He would have traded me in in a second. But unlike with Steve, that thought hasn’t stopped me from thinking he’s the best fucking person. Peter deserves so much better than me. So much more than a–”

Rhodey sighs, slamming down his glass in unexpected irritation.

“God, Tony, I love you but I wish you’d stop talking about my best friend that way. I’ve been listening to this for 30 years, and if I had known what I’d have to look forward to, I would have punched Howard out myself the one and only time I met the asshole.”

That effectively cuts off Tony's spiel. He struggles, mouth opening and closing as he stops and starts his reply. “You… you’ve never said a word against Howard before.”

“He was your father, Tones, I never knew what to say.” Rhodey shakes his head and stands up to go back to the wet bar. He grabs the whiskey this time, along with two glasses. No way I'm drinking alone for this conversation. “Howard fucked you up, Obie fucked you over, and then Steve fucked all of us back. You've had shit for luck, but none of it was your fault. None of it, you hear me?”

As he returns to his friend, he finds Tony looking up at him with wide eyes. Maybe Rhodey had come off too strong but… fuck Howard Stark for giving his son such all-encompassing daddy issues.

“You hear me, Tony?” he asks again.

Tony nods slowly. “Yeah, I hear. I always thought you and Dad…”

Rhodey turns back to the glasses he brought with him, filling both generously. “I know. It was just easier not to talk about it. I’m as bad as you are. But my military shrink keeps yelling at me about bottling things up. Says it makes the recovery worse and she will get me discharged if I keep at it. So, I'm taking a new tack. You should hear what she has to say about my dependency on the chain of command.”

Tony snorts at that, and Rhodey smiles at last.

“Take the drink.” He nudges the glass towards his friend, raising his own in toast and waits for Tony to do the same. “To all the fuckers we’ve left behind.”

Tony nods slowly, tipping his glass. “Cheers.”

They both gulp at their drinks, setting them back down on the table in near unison. It is almost like they’re back in Vegas, 15 years ago, Rhodey on leave and Tony eager to spend every second with him.

Tony may look back at those times differently, but Rhodey had always loved them. Loved Tony even when he was a train wreck. Had always been happy to pick up the pieces.

Just like now.

“Okay.” Rhodey tries to steer the conversation back, before he derailed it with all his psycobabble on self-worth. “So, the kid’s smart and you like him. I’m glad you’re not just fucking around with him, because that would have officially been the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“What about–”

“Not even that.”

“Or–”

“Nope.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Huh, glad to know.”

“Anyways,” Rhodey continues. “It could be worse, is what I'm saying. But what the hell you were thinking when you decided to – what – start dating him? Are you dating him?”

Tony nods roughly, taking another large sip.

“Right, fine. So, you liked him, he clearly thinks you walk on water. That’s… fine, I guess. But I’m really having trouble seeing you act on it. Especially if you like him as much as you seem to. Because even in the best case scenario, I don’t see this ending well. You got out of the best relationship of your life only a year ago, and he’s sixteen.”

“Almost seventeen now–”

“That is not even remotely the point, Tony. He could be 18, 22, 25 and it would be the same – there’s a massive difference of expectations. You’re at completely different points in your lives. Hell, you were planning on marrying Pepper, on settling down. You can’t ask that of someone just starting out, it wouldn’t be fair to – but it’s what you deserve. You deserve someone who can make a life with you, and I don’t see how you can get that from Peter. So, yeah, I’m worried. I'm worried about you, Tony. I’m worried about you getting hurt. You used to worry about that too.”

Tony goes still at that last line before shaking his head and setting down his drink. He turns to face Rhodey full on, catching his eye and putting one arm on his shoulder.

“I… thank you for looking out for me. I don’t say it enough but– I wouldn’t have made it out of my twenties without you. I wouldn’t have made it out of the desert without you. I’m sorry I put that on you, but thank you. You hear me?”

Rhodey nods carefully.

“Good,” Tony continues. “With that said, I don’t think you need to worry about Peter. I think you are going to love Peter – he’s a burst of fresh fucking air, and he gets it, he gets me. So maybe I will get hurt, but I don’t think so. He says he knows what he wants and I believe him. He wants to be Spider-Man, he wants to help people, and he wants to be part of my life. Maybe it’s selfish and stupid, but I want that too. So even if he changes his mind about our relationship down the road, I think he’s one of the family now. I hope he can be part of our family.”

Tony always did have a way with words.

“Fine, I get it, geez,” he says, shoving Tony’s arm off of him. “No need to get mushy on me.”

Tony smirks, looking more like himself. “There’s my sourpatch bear, I worried the shrink had flushed you out.”

Rhodey snorts. “Fuck you too, sweetie.”

They drop the subject for the next few hours, catching up the way they usually do when alone. Those times had been few and far between over the last year, with Rhodey first too depressed about himself to want company, and later too busy trying to salvage what he could of US-Avengers relations. It’s their same song and dance, with Tony listening to him rant about his superiors (a familiar refrain) and his physical therapist (a new verse) – always with a dry comment on the tip of his tongue and an offer to buy people off.

Except for the lack of pounding music and strippers, it feels like old times. It was exactly what Rhodey needed.

Hours later, they’re on the edge of drunk and Tony has to call him a car to take him back to base. Rhodey can’t help but bring Peter up one more time, as they walk the now deserted corridors down to the parking garage.

“So, when are you going to introduce me officially to your ‘boyfriend’?” He makes his voice saccharin sweet and does finger quotes around the words, just to piss Tony off. It works, and Tony slaps his fingers down. “I need to give the kid the shovel talk and want time to work on my lines.”

Tony laughs. “Let’s do pizza Friday. I’ll have Bruce drop in for dessert, if I can pry him away from his research.”

“Great.” Then Tony's words catch up with him. “Wait, did you tell Bruce before me?”

“No- I mean, not everything. They’ve met. They’re even doing some lab work together, finally. I told Peter to tell him whatever he wants, but he keeps saying it would be awkward. I think he’s worried Bruce won’t take his research seriously.”

(Because he’s sixteen, Rhodey’s mind reminds him.)

“Okay, okay. Good to know I haven’t been replaced as your partner in crime.”

“Of course not,” Tony snorts. “You know what they say. Good friends help you hide a body, best friends help you plan the murder.”

“Nobody says that.”

“Well, they should start.”

Rhodey laughs, and begins to descend the stairs to the driveway. “I don’t want to start planning any murders, Tony. But what are we doing about the fact he’s still sixteen?”

Tony shakes his head, slapping Rhodey on his shoulder and keeping his arm there – a companionable, guiding hand that also subtly helps him balance on the steps. “Don’t worry about that. I kept the law on my side this time. What do you think I moved to Jersey for, Rhodey? The views? Well, in a way, I guess I–”

“You’re disgusting.”

———

Peter

Three days after Peter turns 17, he finally decides to bite the bullet and tell May the truth.

Well, some of the truth, at least. The Spider-Man bit. He’ll tell her about that. Okay, so he plans to leave out the scariest parts. And downplay Tony’s involvement as much as he can manage with hand-waving. And, yeah, sure, he’s only doing it because the Avengers team-up to defeat the Hand had ended with him knocked through a portal into an alternate-dimension New York.

Turns out, time works the same across dimensions! It’s a discovery he’d have loved to have explored in a research setting. But the real-world applications of it? Not great. Because the week Peter spent out-running a very persistent woman in an awesome white spider-suit and squatting in a recently-closed Stark Bucks is also the week that Tony spent dodging calls from May and the police while trying to invent interdimensional travel.

(Once the dust finally settled, Tony had cackled at the revelation that his alternate self was in the coffee business.)

So, yeah. Another “sorry, May, I lost my phone” wasn’t going to cut it. His aunt had spent a week terrified and alone, and she deserved better than that. Sure, she’d be angry, but he’d faced down worse. He’s Spider-Man, for god’s sake.

And yet – he can’t bring himself to leave Tony’s car.

“You’re allowed to change your mind, Pete,” Tony says. He has one hand running through Peter’s hair, the other around his neck, holding him in a half-hug over the gear shift. It had been just three hours since Peter’s return and the need for physical reassurance was still overwhelming. “I can fake medical records for you. Some sort of temporary amnesia. A head wound that put you into a short coma. Whatever you want, I’ll help.”

Peter smiles at that, pushing his head back into Tony’s hands in acknowledgement. “I know you would but… it’s okay. I planned to tell her about Spider-Man this year anyway. It might as well be now.”

Tony makes a soft sound, carefully twisting fingers through Peter’s hair. “Then tell me how to help. Do you want me in there with you?”

Peter sighs. “No… if you’re in there, I’m not going to be able to stay away and we’ll be having an entirely different conversation with May. And my timeline for that particular revelation still hasn’t changed.”

Tony smiles at that. “‘Not until I’m out of the nest or get to see May settle down, ideally with someone half her age.’ Yeah, I remember, Pete.”

Even a year into his relationship with Tony, it still strikes him as surreal – and amazing – that Tony Stark uses his incredible brain to remember what Peter says. That he can quote Peter's words back verbatim.

Looking at Tony, smiling at him softly, bags under his eyes more pronounced – probably from worry – Peter really really wants to kiss him. It’ll have to wait until they’re back in New Jersey, but at least–

Oh wait, he’s seventeen.

“I can’t believe we missed celebrating my birthday,” he says, suddenly pissed at the unfairness of it all. “We really need to schedule these villain takedowns more carefully. Like, skipping major holidays and anniversaries. This ruined all my plans.”

“You had plans, huh?” Tony laughs.

Peter sits up in his seat, dislodging Tony’s hands to wave his own excitedly. “I had brilliant plans. Really, like, incredibly awesome plans. Return of the Jedi-level awesome. They were going to blow your mind. You were going to love them so much, you’d have no choice but to one-up me next year.”

“And every year after that?” Tony raises an eyebrow, cutting straight through Peter’s ramble straight to the heart of the matter.

“Well, yeah.” Peter flushes. “Or, I mean, as long as you’d want to.”

Tony grabs Peter’s hands, clasping them together and pressing them to his chest. Right above the reactor that never leaves him now. It’s a comforting thrum against Peter’s skin. “That’ll be as long as you want me, kid.”

Peter rolls his eyes slightly at that. It’s a conversation they’ve had far too often for Peter’s liking.

“Forever, then,” Peter insists. Tony looks ready to jump in with another well-meaning (but infuriating) caveat. “Anyway, I think I deserve one birthday present before I head up to face May.”

Tony gives him a look that says I see what you did there but lets it pass. “Your wish is my command. I didn’t bring everything with me but FRIDAY can pull up –”

“You won’t need FRIDAY for this, Tony,” Peter interrupts, moving even closer to press their foreheads together. Tony’s breath is hot against his mouth, eyes wide and lips already parting.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you in Queens ever since you told me we ‘weren’t there yet’.” Peter smiles, nudging his nose against Tony’s. “What do you think? Are we there now?”

Tony laughs, grabbing Peter and pulling him across the gears to straddle his lap.

“We’re there, birthday boy,” he gets out before kissing him. And kissing him.

Happy birthday to me, Peter thinks.