Work Text:
“Hmm – I wonder how the Kid is settling in,” He hummed to himself, glancing anxiously towards the quietly ticking analog clock on his workshop table. Scratching the back of his head, he allowed an impatient sigh to leave his lips. It was quiet, without the Kid constantly pestering him. Too quiet .
He had left his normally blasting speakers off, for once, in fear of Peter entering unannounced – his ears may not be up to what they once were, but, from the amount of ear protection he had built into the Kid’s suit, he knew exactly how poorly that combination would end up.
But back on topic, Tony really wasn’t sure how smart a decision leaving the kid to his own devices had been. Gods , it wasn’t as if he figured the Kid would do anything irresponsible with the freedom he had been given, but just shoving the kid in a room, handing him a tablet, and telling him to, “Have at it,” was… perhaps not the most adult choice he could have made. Eh, whatever, it would probably be fine. I mean, the Kid was old enough to decorate his own room, right? It wasn’t as if the kid that practically shook with anxiety would do anything too out there, right? If anything, he probably should have pushed more on the whole, “No expenses barred,” thing.
With a swift glance across the room, he snorted – it wasn’t exactly as if he was hurting for money, here.
But… maybe he should go check on the Kid, after all – if nothing else, to ask what he wanted to eat – no stranger to the Kid’s voracious appetite, after all their shared ‘Lab Days’. It totally wasn’t self-doubt or anxiety that led him to this decision; he decided, walking to the elevator; nope, no way.
With another soft sigh, he slumped against the back wall of the elevator, calling out, “Fri? The penthouse floor, please.”
In her normal, only slightly mechanically altered voice, she responded, “Of course, boss. Would you like me to inform those in the penthouse of your arrival?”
With a slight humm, he contemplated, before answering, “No, that’s alright. Just take me up.”
As he felt the slight vibration of the elevator beginning to ascend, he felt a small smile slip across his face. Things were definitely more lively with the Kid around, that was for sure.
Soon enough, the doors began to open; and the smile slightly slipped off his face at the… silence that greeted him. It had been several hours since he had dropped the kid off in his official new room at the tower, so he had figured there would have been packages arriving, or at least some general chaos, by now; but what greeted him was just… silence. The lights had been dimmed, as there had clearly been no activity in the room for quite a while. As he exited the elevator, and began to walk across the room, the lights silently began to “click” on with his arrival.
When he reached the center of the main room, he paused, groaning. This was stupid , what possible reason would he have to be anxious in this situation? The Kid had probably just been taking his time picking things, and– oh. His thoughts stalled.
He – he hadn’t exactly… explained that Peter could just call up whatever companies he wanted furniture from to deliver whatever he might have wanted; or could call Happy, if there was something he wanted, but wasn’t sure how to get. With a grimace, he face-palmed; scratchy facial-hair grinding against the skin on his hand; if the Kid had just ordered a couple posters and bedsheets off of Amazon and called it a day, he was going to hit himself. Shit, that was totally something the Kid would do. Ugh.
With a groan, he continued on his way, rubber-soled shoes padding quietly across the hardwood floorboards. The atmosphere was still unsettlingly ominous, but at this point, he was fully absorbed in analyzing his own idiocy.
As he finally reached the Kid’s door, he stopped, hesitating just a second, before raising a hand to knock quietly. He had initially considered fully soundproofing the room, but considered that it could be a bit uncomfortable for the kid to always feel cut off from the world; so he settled for soundproofing the walls, and creating an optional soundproofing layer within the door, which could be operated with a simple ask to Friday; meaning he had to be a bit careful with how loudly he knocked, when the “full soundproof” mode was disengaged.
When no response was heard, he almost wondered if the kid had figured out the mode was there, already, but with a quest question to Fri, the notion was dismissed. So, having adequately announced his presence, Tony opened the door, only to see–!
Thinking back on it, when Mr.Stark had told him to ‘go crazy’ when decorating the room that was now his, this... This was probably not what he had meant. But it was so darn comfortable .
Originally, when he saw the room, Peter was ecstatic, if not a bit nervous. Not just anyone can say they have a room just for them in the Stark Tower. Let alone say they got to decorate it themselves without restriction. But after exploring, admittedly, an embarrassing amount of fan merch, he was a bit stuck. At the apartment, the space was small, so the thought of what you put into the space was something more meaningful – but this room alone felt comparable to the size of Aunt May’s apartment. What the hell could he even put in here? Yeah, a bed, a desk and a dresser but… he was lost otherwise.
Looking around the space, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander upwards – that was another space he felt like he had to fill out, too. The ceilings in the Tower were so tall , and for what he always wondered. It’s not like anyone was going up there on the regular – Mr.Stark didn’t even allow him to go up there in the lab spaces, and he was probably the person best equipped for that sort of thing.
Then again, this was his room… He should be able to go wherever he wanted within it, right? Yes, he decided then, he absolutely was.
He shot a web up to one of the top corners of the room, and practically launched himself up to the roof, the excitement of spite coursing through him. He planted himself upside-down up there, looking up–down? – at the ground. He was right, it was a lot of space to fill out, and he didn’t have any ideas.
Peter rubbed his eyes, feeling the inner torment of indecisiveness eat at him made his head hurt. Without even thinking, he held his hand out, and shot out webs underneath him. Moving around the ceiling, he weaved his webs around each other, creating a cacophony of shimmering strands; a web-nest suitable for even species as particular as orb-weavers. His lack of spinnerets – appendages built for web weaving – not slowing him down, after having so much practice slinging them in his every-day hero-ing. He hadn’t even realized what he had done until he felt his body bounce against the bed of webs. Blinking, he propped himself up with his elbows, examining his work.
It was almost like a hammock, but much more sturdy, and without risking the barrel roll jumping in. Well, if that was possible, anyway – he didn’t have much experience with hammock’s, admittedly. It was almost like one of those nets the circuses had to catch acrobatics in case of a fall, but he doubted they were as comfortable as this was. This feeling of near-weightlessness was incomparable. He moved to the edge of his web, and looked down to the ground below. He had only made one layer, so far… But what if he made more ?
He couldn’t tell what it was inside him; if it was some innate chaotic energy, or some deep arachnid urges that were bubbling to the surface – but either way, he couldn’t resist the temptation. Before he even realized, his new room was covered in the shimmering, white-silver strands, where he was relaxing comfortably in the center. And Peter couldn’t have been happier.
Tony opened the door, only to see strands . Strands of white, sticky coils strung about everywhere. Opening the door wider in abject horror, Tony saw drooping, hanging webs covering the room – wall to wall. Looking up, the strands condensed together, forming small platforms and woven webs all the way up to the ceiling.
Well, he certainly made himself comfortable.
“Uh… Underoos?” Tony called up to the webs, taking a frankly uncomfortable step into the room, “You up there, squirt?”
Tony swore he could have heard the webs spring and boing as the teenager moved to the side of one of his webs on the lower level, a smile on his face, “Hi, Mr.Stark!”
“...Hi, Kid.” Tony recovered, taking a breath, “I came to check on you, but… clearly, you’re right at home. Catch any flies up there?”
The teenager snickered, dangling his arms off the edge, reaching towards the engineer, “Not yet, might have to go without dinner.”
“Normally, I love comedic bits, but I really don’t want to imagine my intern eating bugs .” Tony shuddered, “Can you come down?”
“Awe, but Mr. Stark, this is so comfortableeee !” The teenager whined, but relented, sliding off the web face-first and flipping to land on his feet in front of his mentor.
“Great, now my neck won’t hurt,” He laughed, before gesturing over to the nest of webs, “You know, when I gave you full permission to decorate your room, this wasn’t exactly what I meant.”
When he noticed Peter starting to sweat a bit, an apology already on his lips, Tony waved off his concerns dismissively, “No, no, that’s not what I meant – it’s very… You. I just meant, I essentially gave you permission to take your best shot at bankrupting me to decorate the place, so it was a bit of a surprise to come back to this .” He hummed a bit, pondering. “If this type of thing is comforting to you, then we can design you a second room to dedicate to as many webs as you want – but how about we talk over dinner, and figure out what sorts of things that we can feel this space with…” he trailed off, sighing, but caved when Peter directed a pleading look at him, “Yes, including the ceiling.”
When the Kid let out a little cheer, he had to bite back a smile, grabbing the Kid by the shoulders, and guiding him out of the room, letting the door shut with a final thought of, “Now! Thai sound good to you?”