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Tony didn't even register that anything was weird as he stumbled into the kitchen after an all-night lab sesh. The only thing on his mind was coffee. He didn't notice the looks the other Avengers were shooting at the corner of the ceiling.
He wasn't even aware they were there until he had started on his second cup after guzzling down the first at record speed.
"Oh, hey, guys."
Steve gave him a concerned look and asked, "How long were you up?"
"Ehh, about 12 hours."
Friday chimed in, "Boss has not slept in 32 hours."
Tony sent a glare at the ceiling.
Steve shook his head and said, "Tony, that's not healthy."
Clint scoffs, "Uh, who cares? Are we going to talk about the giant fucking—whatever the fuck it is—on the ceiling?" He gestures towards it.
Steve reprimanded him, "Language."
Tony looks over in the direction Clint helpfully pointed out. In the corner of the ceiling is a bunch of clothes—his clothes, to be exact—and they're stretching across the corner from one wall to the other. The others don't know what it is, but Tony does.
It's a web. Covered in his clothes. And Tony only knows one person who can make webs and has access to his clothes.
Jesus Christ, he's going to kill the kid.
Bruce squinted at it, "Is that Tony's Black Sabbath t-shirt?"
They all turned to look at him.
He took a sip of his coffee.
Natasha rolled her eyes.
Steve huffed, "Well?"
Tony took another look at it. The kid had improved since his first one, even stealing more clothes than the last time. Looks comfy. Maybe they could nap on it together…
Tony looked back at them and said, "Well, what do you think it is?"
Clint says, "Looks to be a bunch of your clothes. What is it even hanging on?"
"A web."
Clint looks confused, "Huh?"
Steve says, "Like that Spider-Kid?"
"Spider-Man and yes."
Bruce looks incredulous, "And why is he doing that with your clothes?"
Tony actually doesn't know the answer to that, "I'll get back to you on that."
Steve does not look happy, "Do you just let the kid do whatever? How come we haven't seen him?"
"As long as it won't hurt him, I don't really care what he does. And the kid is very good at sneaking."
That answer does not seem to placate the man.
Natasha nods, "So, he's your kid."
Tony splutters, "He's not my kid-he's-"
"Whatever you say. He has spider genetics, right?"
He nods slowly.
"Well, he probably has spider instincts to make a nest, and your clothes make him feel safe. It makes sense."
"That doesn't-"
Clint says, "I really did not expect Tony Stark to be a father."
Tony slammed his coffee down on the counter, "I am not his father!"
"Okayyyy…"
Natasha tells him, "I can tell by the way you talk about him that you feel like his father, and I bet he feels the same considering the nest he made. Work out whatever issues you have going on and then talk to the kid."
Then she left.
They sat in silence as Tony stared at the hall Natasha disappeared down.
Clint muttered, "Hawkward."
Steve glared, "Clint!"
Clint puts his hands up, "Sorry, I always wanted to use that!"
"I'm going to go train."
Bruce looks relieved, "I'll be leaving too, I have some work to do in the lab."
Clint waves, "I'm still eating, so bye-bye."
Steve coughs not once but three times, very unsubtly.
"Actually, eating in my room sounds like it'd be really fun."
They leave. Tony stares down at the counter.
He had to admit that Natasha was right about seeing Peter as his son, at least. But…he can't be a father, he would just ruin the kid. He's never had a healthy father-son relationship to base it on, first his dad and then Obie. Not to mention, the tons of problems Tony has. He's a recovering alcoholic, he works himself till he passes out, he's a jerk to most people, and he just can't be a good parent to Peter.
He gets to work taking down the nest of clothes because, surprisingly, he needs his clothes. He'll set aside a pile for the kid to use later this week.
-
Peter puts the pile to good use the next time he's over. Tony's watching him make one in the living room this time. The kid already made the base web and is now laying clothes on top and securing those with webs too. He does this a couple of times until he deems it comfy enough and snuggles right into Tony's MIT hoodie. He seems like he's about to fall asleep until he opens his eyes and looks right at Tony.
"Are you okay, Mr. Stark?"
Tony blinked and nodded, "Yeah, kid."
Peter looked nervous, "Um, do you want me to take it down or something? Why are you staring at me?"
Tony adamantly shook his head, "No, kid, no, keep doing these, I like them. I was just…wondering something."
Peter perks up, "What is it?"
Tony thought of Natasha's words. Did the kid feel that safe with him? Tony doesn't remember the last time he voluntarily fell asleep in front of anyone. Honestly, he thinks it only happened when he was about to pass out from exhaustion and had no choice.
"Why do you make these…nests?"
Peter titled his head and mounted 'nests?' to himself.
The kid then looked sheepish, "Well, I don't know. I have these urges to make the webs and your clothes…they make me feel safe. It's like cuddling you."
The kid looked away at that. Tony had to force himself not to let out the goofiest smile ever, "You know the real thing is right here?"
Peter snapped his head back, "You would—really?"
"Sure, you are my kid, don't fathers do that?"
Tony crossed his fingers behind his back. Peter gaped, and Tony almost backtracked until he felt himself yanked up. Peter had snatched him with a web. Peter catches him and pulls him up the rest of the way. He collapses onto the nest.
Tony laughs, "Wow, those webs sure are strong. "
Seriously, he needs to take a closer look at them. The kid really made these in a school science lab?
Peter manhandles Tony into lying beside him. The kid wraps his arms around Tony and smashes his face into Tony's shoulder.
"Wow, you sure are strong."
The kid huffs, "Just go to sleep, Dad."
Tony's breath hitches. Peter doesn't say anything, even though he most definitely noticed. It isn't long until Peter's breaths have tapered out. Tony wraps his arms around the kid and pulls him closer.
He falls asleep like that, cradling his kid.