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Peter had always liked Tony Stark. Well, ‘like’ wasn’t the right word. He wouldn't like a man that he didn’t know. He had admired and respected Tony Stark. And after he became Spider-Man the respect and admiration had only grown.
Although, the reasons why had shifted over time. Instead of respecting his intelligence, Peter respected that when Stark found out about the wrongdoings of his company, Stark put a stop to it. (Peter wouldn’t fault him for making and selling weapons, weapons don’t kill people - people kill people.)
Instead of admiring Stark’s suit, Peter admired Stark’s dedication to using the suit to do the right thing or, at least, trying to.
Before, Peter saw no similarities between the two of them. Now, Peter knew what it was like to have bloody hands.
So, yeah. Peter had respected, admired, and, in a way, related to Stark.
.
.
.
Keyword: HAD. Peter was more than ready to pound his fucking fist in Stark’s stupid little face. Maybe give him a matching black eye.
Peter had been having a good day. He was doing great in school, through it all he managed to keep his grades up, and his attendance as good as he could. He had gotten a (surprisingly) good amount for one of his photos, and he had enough that he could afford to get the stuff for a cherry pie.
And then, he walked into his home and saw Stark sitting on the couch with May. Peter felt slightly betrayed and confused that he hadn’t sensed anything. And then he found out that Stark had, not only, lied to his aunt, but made her think he was keeping stuff from her. Which, yeah, he was and had been, but it was only stuff that would make her upset.
“You didn’t tell me anything. What’s up with that? Keeping secrets from me now?”
Peter winced, “No, of course not, May!” Peter directed his attention towards Stark, a polite smile on his face, “I thought we had agreed on meeting NEXT week.” Then, back to May, “I was going to tell you tonight. I even got stuff for Cherry Pie!” He lifted the bag of groceries for emphasis.
That seemed to soothe his aunt; satisfied that his aunt was no longer upset, or as upset, Peter turned back to Stark, “How about we take this conversation to my room and hash out the specifics?”
-
Peter had smiled the entire way to his room, he had opened the door and gestured for Stark to enter first. “After you, sir.”
And then the door shut, and he heard May begin to busy herself with putting away the groceries. Confident that the two had privacy, Peter turned towards Stark with a blank face. “I didn’t apply for your stupid little grant, so why are you really here?”
Stark, who had been looking around the room, ignored him in favor of trying to grab something. Peter didn’t know what it was, all he saw was Stark reaching for something and so he reacted. Once again, Peter was miffed at the absolute lack of warning from his spidey sense.
“Jesus!” Stark flinched, and whipped his head around to glare at the other, “Did you just,” a quick glance to the ground, “throw a pencil at me?”
“Yes. Next time I’ll throw my fucking fist. What do you want?”
Stark narrowed his eyes as he stepped away from the desk, “I’m taking you on a field trip.”
Without missing a beat, “No. Get out of my house.” Despite the harshness of the sentence, it lacked any real heat.
Stark furrowed his brows, “I’m starting to wonder where the ‘Friendly’ part of your name came from. Don’t you call yourself the ‘Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man?”
Peter shrugged as he leaned back against the door, “Spider-Man’s plenty friendly. But, I’m not Spider-Man.”
Stark smirked as he leaned back, “Sure you are.”
Peter pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think I am.”
With a huff and crossed arms, “I know that you’re Spider-Man.”
Peter grinned, “No, you know that you think I’m Spider-Man.”
Stark opened his mouth, then paused for a moment and narrowed his eyes. “You’re just trying to piss me off.”
Peter blinked, “Is it working?”
Stark rolled his eyes, “You’re a little shit, you know that?”
Peter snorted, “I do, actually.”
Stark cleared his throat, “So, how does Germany sound?”
Then, Peter remembered that he was supposed to be mad at him. “Seriously?” Peter spluttered for a second, “Who the fuck do you think you are? Coming into my home, lying to my aunt and making her think that I’ve been keeping secrets!”
Wisely, Stark didn’t mention the fact that Peter was, in fact, keeping secrets. Throwing his hands up, “Well, what else was I supposed to do? You’re impossible to track down as Spider-Man.”
“Yeah, that’s on purpose. I don’t exactly want company.” Peter gritted out, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment, “But, none of this matters. What does matter is why you wanted me in the first place.”
Stark swallowed, “I need your help.”
“I doubt that, but go on. I’m gonna need a bit more information before I let you fly me to Germany.” Peter took a hesitant step away from the door. Still keeping distance between the two of them.
Stark scrubbed his face with his hands, “I don’t suppose you know anything about the Accords?”
Peter shrugged, “I know a fair bit. Certain parts seem pretty anti-mutant/mutate.”
Stark nodded, “Well, there’s been a disagreement-”
With a raised brow, “So you want me to fight Rogers? I’m down. Say no more.”
“What? Just like that?”
Peter scoffed, “No. Why can’t you two just, I don’t know, talk it out? Y’know, like, adults.”
Stark sighed, “I’ve tried!”
The two continued for a few more minutes, Peter getting as much information about the ordeal as possible. Even though, he knew that he’d go. Not only did it sound fun to have the opportunity to punch Rogers in the face, but Stark wasn’t bad.
Peter would never admit it out loud, but Stark was spidey sense approved.
There were conditions though.
Number one, no one would know who he was. No one. Number two, Stark would have to explain to the school why he was going to be missing class. Personally.
“I only ask that you speak with my principal, and only him. Verify that the paperwork or whatever is real so that I don’t have to worry about my attendance or being accused of forging a famous person’s signature.” And then, after a moment, “And please, be as discreet as possible.”
Stark paused with a weird look on his face, one that Peter couldn’t quite place. “Why? Don’t want anyone to know you managed to score an internship with Stark Industries?”
“I really don’t.” Peter answered, then, “If I were to brag about something, I wouldn’t brag about having a Stark Internship.”
Stark raised a brow, “What would you brag about?”
Peter shook his head and, as if he was pointing out the most obvious thing in the world, said: “This monster cock, of course.”
Unable to stop himself, Peter threw his head back and howled with laughter. “I can’t fucking believe you fucking fell for that.” Peter wheezed.
Stark stared blankly, “I kind of hate you, right now.”
Still with a grin on his face, “Oh, man, you should have seen your fucking face. Priceless.”
-
Nothing too interesting happened after that.
As Spider-Man, he met Happy Hogan, who didn’t look slightly happy. They didn’t share too many words, as Peter wasn’t exactly there to make friends.
The meeting, which wasn’t supposed to be a battle (source: Stark), quickly turned into a fight. Peter had done his best to only restrain them. And, as asked by Stark, he didn’t punch Rogers.
“You’re not actually gonna try and punch Rogers, are you?”
“I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
At the end of everything, he walked away from the ordeal with minor injuries, Hogan’s number, a suit that he was never going to wear again, and a sickening realization.
But, that was a realization that Peter didn’t feel like unwrapping or dealing with. Especially because it didn’t look like he would have to, since Rogers’ side had gone off to who knows where.
Months later, Peter had bigger and better things to worry about. The bigger thing was taking care of the little guy. The better thing was his Aunt May and his friends. And then there was school and Decathlon, of course.
At the very bottom of his concerns was whatever it was that Stark was doing. He was a little worried about how Stark was doing, but he seemed to be alive and in one piece. So, Peter threw Stark to the back of his mind.
Which was, admittedly, easier said than done. And then there was the ATM robbery and the weird weapons. Further investigation was required.
.
Further investigation had led to him finding Aaron Davis, who he had found buying weapons from two people. After weighing his options, Peter decided that it wasn’t the right time to intervene and that there was still information needed. Information that perhaps Mr. Aaron Davis could provide.
Aaron Davis did have a nephew, Miles Morales. And that was something that Peter could work with if need be.
It hadn’t taken too long to track down one Aaron Davis, nor had it taken long to get time alone with him. It was, also, surprisingly easy to get him to tell him to get information out of him.
Despite how refreshing it was to have people cooperate with him, he still acted like he was going to leave him there. (He returned a few minutes later to remove the webbing.)
.
After taking a, probably, excessive amount of photos of the weapons deal at the Staten Island Ferry. (Peter made sure to get some good shots of each person’s face, the weapons, and photos of them interacting.) Peter was somewhat satisfied that he had managed to get evidence of the deal. But, he knew that it wasn’t time to intervene. If something were to go wrong, Peter didn’t want to risk anyone getting hurt. Not if he could help it.
And so, like he had many times before, Spider-Man disappeared.
.
Truthfully, Peter had guessed that he wouldn’t ever interact with Stark or Hogan again. At least, not anytime soon.
But, then, as Peter was compiling the evidence, selecting the best photos out of the bunch. All were fairly good photos, but some just weren’t good enough. And then, there was the realization.
Stark was going to be transporting weaponry. Weaponry that Vulture might try and steal, like the little bitch he is.
After a few moments of scrambling and a muttered, “I know it’s around here somewhere.” Peter located Happy’s number.
Satisfied with his message, Peter threw his phone on his bed and got back to work.
“The plane is probably gonna be hijacked, and the weapons are gonna be stolen.”
Hours passed, and it grew darker outside. And a quick glance at the phone showed no response, after a moment of deliberation, Peter called the number, and it went straight to voicemail.
.
Peter kicked a rock with a scoff, “Oh, yeah, if you need something, just give Happy a call.” Peter mocked before growling, “Yeah, okay, Stark. I call to save YOUR ass, and he doesn’t fucking answer.”
This was the fourth time that he was waiting for the plane, eventually, it would be moving day. Sooner rather than later. And, yes, he was a little more grouchy tonight than he had been the other nights.
But, Peter had plans for his homecoming night. No, they didn’t involve going to the homecoming dance. They involved him staying home and relaxing. Maybe get some schoolwork done, maybe watch a movie.
Of course, none of that fucking mattered. Peter perked up slightly at the sound of a plane, looks like tonight was moving night.
.
In addition to a pounding headache, Peter was covered in fading bruises, mostly healed cuts, blisters, and burns.
And Tony Stark was sitting on his bed.
Peter blinked at the man, once again leaning against the door. Unlike last time though, where Peter had leaned against the door because he hadn’t felt comfortable having his back to Stark, this time he had his back to the door because he was exhausted. It wasn’t the most comfortable position.
“So, are you gonna say something?” Peter asked as he shifted his weight, inadvertently causing the burned part of his shoulder to press against the door.
If Stark noticed him wince, he didn’t say anything. “I guess I owe you a thank you.”
As a thank you, Peter didn’t ask about the ‘I guess’ because, yes, Stark did kind of owe him a thank you. Regardless, “Why?”
“You saved my stuff from being stolen, yes?” Stark shifted on the bed, and Peter was reminded of how he wanted nothing more than to just go to sleep.
“Yeah.” Peter agreed, and then, unable to stop himself, “I wouldn’t have had to if your damn head of security learned to check his messages and/or answer his phone. What was the point of giving me his number if he wasn’t going to listen or read what I had to say?”
Tony sighed and scrubbed his face, “In his defense, he didn’t know it was you.”
Watching the man for a moment, Peter noted that he looked… terrible. Taking pity on the poor guy, Peter waved a hand and walked to his desk.
He kept a careful eye on Stark as he dug through one of his desk drawers. He knew that he would sense if Stark would do something, but, Peter didn’t really care. It made him feel better to have an eye on him.
Turning back towards Stark, “It’s whatever.” Peter waved a hand, “I suppose I could have specified who the message was from, but can’t change the past.”
Peter tossed the folder on the bed next to Stark, “There’s some stuff in there. Evidence and notes and yeah.”
After a moment, Stark picked up the file, flipping through it with an impressed look on his face.
Peter watched for a moment, a small part of him feeling oddly satisfied. “Was, uh, was that all?”
Stark, with his gaze still locked on the photos in the file, “What was wrong with the suit?”
Peter blanked for a moment as he tried to figure out what suit. Once it clicked, he shrugged, “Nothing was wrong. It was a good suit, but it wasn’t…right.”
Stark glanced up from where he had been glaring at the evidence. “What does that mean?”
“I was the one who designed and made my suit. There are certain features or, uh, modifications that my suit has that yours doesn’t. It’s not your fault though, you didn’t know because I didn’t tell you.”
There was a moment of silence.
Peter watched the man carefully, “And before you ask, no, I’m not going to tell you.” Peter thought for a moment, “Not yet, anyway. We aren’t there yet.”
“Not yet?” Stark echoed, his brows scrunching together.
Peter thought about it, then nodded. “Yeah. Not yet.” Peter waited somewhat patiently for a moment. “You’re acting like I just said I was part goldfish.”
Stark’s gaze snapped up, “What?”
Peter smiled and carefully sat in his desk chair, it was a little more comfortable than standing, “You looked confused. Wanna share with the class?”
“Not yet implies that you’re going to tell me one day.”
Peter nodded, “It does. You’re so smart. I can see why you’re called a genius.”
Stark inhaled sharply as he tossed the folder slightly to the side. “I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but, I don’t get it.”
Peter frowned, “What’s there not to get? I’m not ready to tell you everything about Spider-Man right now, hence the phrase: not yet. Is that better?”
“Why tell me at all? Why trust me with this?” Stark gestured to the folder. “I thought you hated me!”
Peter choked, “No! Why would I hate you? Never mind, don’t answer that.” Peter took a deep breath, “I don’t hate you, Stark. If I hated you, I wouldn’t have tried to help you. I wouldn’t have gone to Germany with you.”
Leaning forward in his chair, “Look, I admit, I was more than a little harsh when you first came here, but, that wasn’t because I disliked you.”
Once again, there was silence, something that was quite common between the two of them. “I read the newest draft of the Accords.”
“Yeah? Are they okay? For you?” Stark stumbled slightly, looking up at Peter.
“You, not only, listened to me, but you made changes to the Accords. Or got changes to be made. I know that it couldn’t have been easy. So, thank you.” Peter hoped that Stark was able to hear his sincerity over his tiredness.
Stark swallowed and nodded, looking slightly taken aback at the “thank you”, which was somewhat worrying. “Well, I should get going. You look like you’re about to pass out. I’m also taking this,” Stark held up the file, “and I’m going to give it to the FBI. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” Peter slowly stood up, he really did feel exhausted.
Stark slipped on his sunglasses and held out his free hand. “Until next time, Parker.”
Peter glanced at the hand and then back to Stark, and took it with a smile. “Please, call me Peter.”
Stark tilted his head slightly with a smile, “Only if you call me Tony.”
Peter laughed, “Okay, Tony.”
-
“Before I leave,” Tony said a step away from the door, “Gimme your phone.”
Peter raised a brow but set the phone down on the table by the door and slid it to him. There wasn’t much on the phone to snoop through, and Peter highly doubted that Tony would try and steal his phone.
“There.” Tony held the phone out for Peter to grab, “Now, if you need or want anything, you can call me.”
Peter glanced at the contact and sent a message. “Likewise.”