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Tony knew, because of course he did.
He knew that the kid was trans. He knew.
There wasn’t any sort of epiphany, no moment of sudden realization. He’d kinda figured all along. The choppy haircut, oversized hoodies, heavy insistence on Tony calling the kid Spider-Man even out of costume…
And Tony did his best. Really! He avoided referring to Spider-Man as anything besides “the kid” and only used neutral pronouns. He tried.
He’d known since the beginning. Almost a full calendar year.
Tony wanted the kid to be happy. That was all. He couldn’t imagine it was fun living a lie every day of your life.
So, then, why wouldn’t the kid tell him?
Tony chalked it up to nerves at first. He knew from what he’d seen that his sort of thing was personal. It was difficult for anyone, let alone a teenage genius and superhero with practically the fate of New York City resting atop their shoulders. So he gave the kid time.
Nothing came of it.
Then, he thought it was because maybe the kid wasn’t sure if would be supportive. Tony went out of his way for the next month to attend as many LGBTQ+ Charity Galas as he could manage. (He was willingly attending fancy dinner parties with a slew of other selfish rich folks he hated — that had to prove something! Right?)
He didn’t wanna push it. Really! He knew that things took time, and that Spider-Man didn’t owe him anything in terms of an identity. He wouldn’t force anything that wasn’t said entirely of the kid’s own volition.
But Tony could see how much it was hurting the kid. The vague flinch whenever Tony slipped up and referred to Spider-Man as a girl, or used the kid’s name, or when they’d talk about high school and how terribly mean the kids could be…
He wanted to help the kid.
That left him here.
The kid was coming over tonight, after school. Spider-man had asked if Tony had some time to talk, so the man offered him the opportunity for dinner and then some quality lab time.
Tony was, perhaps naïvely, hoping today would be the day.
It was near 6 O’Clock when FRIDAY alerted him of Spider-Man’s presence in the building. She– he? They, Tony decided, were standing outside the tall glass doors. The entrance to the building.
He breathed a sigh, and then instructed FRIDAY to let the kid up.
“Hi Mr. Stark!” Spider-Man bounded in through the doorway. “Woah, what’s for dinner? That smells amazing. Is Ms. Potts cooking?”
Tony gave a teasing, lopsided grin. “What, kid, you think she’s the only one around here good in the kitchen?”
Spider-Man looked up at him. “Okay, fine, then. Did you cook?”
The man averted his eyes sheepishly. “Well- no. I, uh, had some of my bots do the chefing away for me. Pepper’s finishing up some client meetings before she turns in for the night.”
“So you DIDN’T cook! Ha, I knew it!” the kid grinned up at him triumphantly.
“Fine, fine, you got me there. Whaddya say we grab some food and bring it with us to the lab?”
“Okay! Oh, by the way, Mr. Stark, I have this new idea for my web fluid. I think if I try to…”
The kid kept talking. Or, well, Tony assumed they did; he’d zoned out.
He was… nervous.
This was a big thing for the kid. Even he knew that. Of course he wanted Spider-Man to be comfortable enough to share their identity, but a lot was riding on Tony’s reaction. He had to be perfectly supportive and encouraging and serious.
(This was, of course, assuming the kid was even coming out to him tonight. God, he was being awfully presumptuous, wasn’t he?)
“Anyways, Mr. Stark, I’m hungry. Can we grab the food? I wanna get started!” The kid grinned up at him.
Tony smiled. “Sure, Spider-Man.”
Working in the lab together was nothing new for them. It was just part of the routine, if anything. They’d sit in comfortable silence; Spider-Man would sometimes break it to complain about school drama or bullies or verbalize the new ideas for his suit. It made Tony feel awfully paternal.
Today was… unusually quiet, however. The kid kept drumming his fingers against the table and chewing on his lips and picking at his shirt. It made the quiet uneasy, rather than peaceful.
Maybe Spider-Man needed a little push.
“Everything okay, kid?” Tony asked, eyeing him from the side.
“Yeah! Yeah, I was just… thinking! About my web fluid, and, um…” they trailed off, mumbling towards the end.
Stark said nothing.
The silence between them got even more uncomfortable, if possible.
Finally, the kid looked up.
“Actually, Mr. Stark…” Spider-Man began, looking down at their shoes. “Can I, uh, tell you something?”
Was this…?
“‘Course, kid. What’s up?”
“Um… okay, well, I’m not really sure how to, y’know, start this? So I’m just gonna talk, and uh, we’ll see how this goes.”
Tony could hear the nerves weaving their way into the kid’s voice.
“Okay, so, I’ve felt this way for a long time. Uh, like, since forever, I think. And I wasn’t really sure what to do, because it was confusing, y’know? But I wanna say it, because this is how I’ve been feeling, and I want you to know. Because, Mr. Stark, I look up to you a lot, and…”
They trailed off, looking back up at Tony for the first time since the conversation began. Looking at him. Tony saw the hint of tears beginning to well up in Spider-Man’s eyes.
“I’m trans, Mr. Stark. I’m a boy.”
And Tony’s heart melted. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Oh, kid…” he began. “Thank you for telling me. Genuinely. I’m happy you trusted me enough to share that — I know how big things like this can be. Thank you, kid.”
The boy in front of him stared incredulously. “You- you support me?”
Tony couldn’t help but snort at that. “”Course I do. You’re my kid,” he said, and Spider-Man couldn’t help but choke out a sob at that.
“Thank you Mr. Stark. Thank you.”
“So, what’s your name?”
The kid cocked his head. “Uh, Spider-Man?”
Tony snorted. “No, I mean your name.”
The kid’s eyes widened. “Oh! Um… do you think you could call me Peter?” He asked, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“It’s nice to meet you, Peter,” the man smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter repeated. Almost a whisper. “Thank you.”