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Today was supposed to be a good day.
Things were actually going well. He aced his biology test, patrol went well, and he didn't even run into anymore spiders!
Then, of course, Parker Luck had to strike again. He freezes at the sight of Tony Stark, Iron Man, sitting in his living room and eating his aunt's cake. Well, if it can even be called that. He shakes his head, hoping that it's an illusion. But it isn't. Tony fucking Stark is sitting on his couch, wearing an insufferable smirk and a knowing glint in his eye, and Peter has a very bad feeling about this.
He closes the door behind the billionaire and exhales slowly, resisting the urge to press his head against the wood. Spinning to face Mr. Stark, who is looking around his room, he quickly says, "So, I definitely did not receive any emails of any sort - "
Tony Stark holds up a finger, gaze straying to the computers that Peter has set up on his table. It makes him feel unconsciously aware of how it looks. "Ah-ah. Me first."
Peter inhales, this time. "Okay."
"These are cool. Retro? Where'd you get them from, some old shop around here?"
"The garbage, actually."
"Dumpster diver. That's cool." Tony Stark nods like it makes sense. Like he isn't just a billionaire who can afford any piece of technology that he needs to make his Iron Man suits. It makes Peter just a tiny bit angry. He's lived in Queens all his life, in the part of the city that isn't the nicest to him. He doubts Tony Stark had to fight for a right to food.
He opens his mouth to say something, remembers Tony's words, and shuts his mouth again, settling from two arms crossing over each other. Mr. Stark looks on, amused.
"So, I wasn't sure at first, but I think I've got a good grip on it now. What is it, Son of Hermes?"
Peter's jaw almost drops. Almost, because he swallows before it gets a chance to, and he shifts ever so slightly, tensing up. His hand strays to his pocket, where he keeps the Celestial bronze switchblade on him. But if Tony Stark is a monster, and somehow managed to not only escape Olympus' notice for decades, and also become a billionaire, then Peter may be out of his depth here. A switchblade against a monster that has years of experience on him does not make his chances look good at all. "What's it to you?" he returns, low.
Infuriatingly, Tony Stark doesn't move from his relaxed position. He smiles, huffs a laugh and holds his hands up. "You can relax, Mr. Parker. I'm not here to kill you. I'm not a monster. Here." He grabs the switchblade from Peter's hands and makes a small cut on the tip of his finger. Red blood blooms on skin. Peter accepts the switchblade back, pocketing it.
"How'd you know?"
"Other than the computers? I felt you take my wallet."
Peter's face flames. People don't usually notice his pickpocketing. It's a bad habit picked up from his brothers. He does smirk, slightly, when Tony holds up his wallet. "You didn't notice this," Peter points out, holding up the watch that was previously on Tony's wrist, and the signature, the belt. Tony does look a little surprised at that, accepting the items back. "So what, you're a demigod too?"
"Double legacy, actually. Athena and Hephaestus." That made sense, Peter supposes. "So, quick question of the rhetorical variety: this is you, right?" A hologram shoots out from Tony Stark's wrists, and Peter's fingers are itching to steal it and inspect the technology. That is, before he realises the hologram is in fact of him, in his Spider-Man suit. The praise from Tony Stark almost makes it worth it. Almost.
His attempts to deflect are almost pitiful. Inwardly, he winces and apologises to every Son of Hermes that he knows. He can do the stealing, just not the lying. He has a tendency to ramble.
Tony, somehow graceful despite his age, manages to get the suit out before Peter can stop him, and proceeds to scrutinize all of it in a way that makes Peter want to laugh hysterically and simultaneously dig a hole in the ground and never come out. "Lordy, can you even see in these?"
"Yes!" Lordy, Tony Stark really was old. "I can see in them, okay, it's just that...ever since the bite - "
"The bite?"
"Radioactive spider," Peter waves it off. "Nothing big. My senses are like, dialled to eleven. Even more than normal, more than when I was a demigod. It gets...overwhelming. The glasses help me block out everything that doesn't matter."
"We're gonna circle back to the radioactive spider bite part later, but sure. One thing I'm really interested in is that webbing. Its tensile strength is off the charts, who manufactured it?"
"I - I did."
Wow, he made Tony Stark look impressed. "You did that? Where?"
"My school lab. And sometimes my siblings help, if they can."
"I've seen a lot of things in my day, kid, but this takes the cake. You manufactured it in a school lab, okay." He shakes his head, tossing the web cartilage to Peter. "I gotta know, Parker. What's your MO?"
"My...MO?"
"What gets you out of that twin bed in the morning. Why you draw attention to yourself in a monster-ridden city. You're a thief's son, and you go out helping people. It's not usually what Hermes' kids like to do. Speaking of which, your aunt knows you're a demigod, right?"
"What? Yeah, yeah. She's cool with it."
Tony look expectantly at him, and Peter realises there's still another half of a question to answer.
He fidgets with his hands, avoiding Tony Stark's gaze while he answers. "It's just. I've had these powers for six months. And I can do a whole lotta good with them, Mr. Stark. There's a lot of people out there that just have shitty lives, and if I can just. I dunno, give them something to look forward to, a sense of safety, then why wouldn't I?"
His cheeks heat up again, but when he forces himself to look up, Tony Stark's gaze is soft. Honest to gods soft. Looking at him like Peter is being seen in a new light. "I'm a thief, yeah. Hermes' kid. Not proud of it, not ashamed of it. It's my nature. But my uncle...he always taught me to do good. There are bad things out there. I have the power to stop it. If I don't do anything, then those bad things happen because of me."
Tony sits down beside him. "Well, the martyr complex didn't come from the godly side, definitely." Peter cracks a small smile. There's a lot of unspoken words between them, right now. The way that Tony seems to understand, because Peter's aunt is here but his uncle isn't. The way that Tony sends him a sad smile, one that makes Peter want to take a moment of silence for everyone that they've lost.
They're demigods. They don't get a happy ending.
Tony seems to be applauding him for trying anyways.
They don't say any of that, though. Instead, Tony fixes him with a piercing gaze. "This job is dangerous. More so than just being us. Mortal enemies are...different from the normal monsters."
"I'm up for it," Peter answers. No hesitation.
Tony smiles at that. "Well, that's good. Because you need an upgrade if you're gonna survive another six months on the streets without monsters being all over you, Son of Hermes or not."
"...what?"
"You think you'll survive a hellhound attack with this flimsy excuse? Nah, kid. You're in desperate need of some armour."
"...I don't understand."
"Hera, I thought you were smart," Tony mutters. "I'm mentoring you, Underoos. Keep up."
Peter blinks.
And blinks.
And blinks again.
"So, you with me?"
"Yeah," he manages. "Yeah. You're my mentor, now, apparently. Holy shit. Holy shit, Tony fucking Stark is my mentor, what in Zeus' name is happening today."
"Guess it was a good day after all, huh?" Tony Stark, his mentor, puts on his sunglasses, somehow pulling off the sunglasses in shade look perfectly. "One more thing, Parker." A fixed stare. Peter gulps. "You shouldn't blame yourself for things that happen out of your control. We're demigods, Peter. Humans. Not gods. We don't have any control over it."
Peter gets what he's saying. But still. It's hard. Hard when he's seen two demigods in the past year die from monster attacks, and much more that came one summer and disappeared the next. "Yeah. I got it. Just blame the gods, right?" It's a running gag in the Camp. Not one they say loudly. But still.
Tony winks, and it somehow translates under the shades. "Attaboy. I'll email you."
"Sure. Sure." Because emails from Tony Stark are normal.
He has got to tell Ned about this.
Tony Stark slips out of his room, and it takes Peter about ten minutes to stop screaming into his pillow and get up to text Ned.