Chapter Text
The problem began, as most Stark Industries disasters did – with overconfidence, caffeine, and a complete disregard of safety protocols.
It was late Sunday afternoon, the kind where the sun hung low in the sky but no one in the Stark Tower lab had noticed. Peter and Tony had been tinkering in the lab for hours on end, surrounded by snack packets and empty coffee mugs.
This routine was familiar, almost comforting. Yet, today, something was different.
Tony’s newest experiment sat in the centre of the laboratory, humming ominously. It was larger and scarier than the majority of his projects, but what was a Stark invention without risk?
Peter had learned, through painful experience, that when Tony said something was ‘mostly safe’, it absolutely was not.
He was developing a kind of neural technology and, naturally, had asked Peter to volunteer.
“Alright, you ready?” Tony said, clapping a firm hand against Peter’s shoulder. “We’re about to revolutionise neural tech with this machine, kiddo.”
Peter stared at the glowing blue contraption in front of him. The longer he looked, the more convinced he became that it would be the death of him.
“That machine?” Peter said uncertainly, “The one that looks like it’s about to explode?”
“Relax, Peter, it is definitely not going to explode. It’s supposed to look like that,” Tony replied, waving a dismissive hand.
Famous. Last. Words.
Tony flipped the switch, and the machine whirred to life. Lights pulsed even brighter, the sound deepening. Peter swallowed anxiously.
“Kid, trust me. I’ve been working on this for ages now. If something were to go wrong-”
FLASH!
Blinding light filled the room, flooding Peter’s vision until all he saw was white. His head snapped back, suddenly, like something was splitting it in two.
Then – silence.
When the world snapped back into focus, Peter knew immediately that something was wrong. Very wrong.
The floor felt lower, too far away. The ceiling, higher. His body – heavier, broader, unfamiliar. His hands – older. An arc reactor glowed faintly beneath his shirt.
Peter looked down.
“Oh,” he breathed.
“Oh, shit.”
Across the room stood Tony Stark, except it wasn't quite Tony Stark anymore. He stood — now disturbingly 5’7. He was also wearing Peter’s shirt - the cringy one.
As they locked eyes with each other (or rather, themselves), the colour drained from both their faces.
“Why are you me?” Tony spluttered, “And why do I sound like a Disney Channel voice actor?”
“Mr Stark? You’re me!” Peter squeaked, holding his arms out and inspecting them.
“And you’re me. Shit,” he deadpanned, touching his now teenage face with unfamiliar features.
“Oh my goodness, what do we do, Mr Stark? How do we reverse it? Tell me we can reverse it!”
“We should be able to,” Tony said slowly. “I wasn’t exactly planning on this—”
“Shit! We have to stay calm, alright? Just turn the machine back on and switch us back. Preferably before anyone finds out.”
“It’s not that easy,” Tony snapped. “Life doesn’t come with an undo button, y’know?”
“Mr Stark-”
“No! Don’t call me that. I’m literally you right now. This is identity theft on a cosmic level.”
“Fine,” Peter seethed, “we’ll just reverse the process, then. Recalibrate the frequency, turn back the dial. That should work, right?”
They tried. Peter watched, heart pounding, as Tony’s trembling hands adjusted the dials.
There was no flash of light or mind alteration.
“Motherfucker,” Tony groaned. “Am I seriously going to be stuck in this teenage body, surviving on two-minute noodles and panic?”
“Hypothetically..?” Peter offered weakly.
“Shit. I need more coffee.”
“You can’t have coffee!” Peter burst out.
“And why the fuck not?”
“Your body – my body – won’t handle it. You’ll go turbo. You won’t sleep. My senses are already heightened, they’ll double. You’ll get the worst migraine of your life!”
“Then so be it,” Tony snapped, rubbing his temple as he poured himself a coffee.
“How the everloving fuck am I supposed to act like you?” Tony yelled.
“And how am I supposed to act like you?” Peter retaliated. “You run a multi-billion dollar company!”
“Alright, hear me out. Why don’t ‘you’ take time off school until we fix this? We stay here, in the lab, and find a solution.”
“Mr Stark, I have exams coming up!” Peter protested, “I can’t take time off - It’s academic suicide!”
“And what do you think people will say if Iron Man shows up at a random high school?”
“What am I supposed to do, Tony? I trusted you! ‘It’s not going to explode,’ my ass!”
“Okay, okay,” Tony sighed. “New plan. As much as it pains me to say it, I’ll go to school for you. Stay at May’s place, keep my head down. You stay here, deal with Pepper, and attend the meetings.”
“That’s easy for you to say! How the hell do I run Stark Industries?”
“Improvise!”
“Mr Stark, you cannot be serious. This is insane.”
“Let’s just try,” Tony said. “If it fails miserably, we move to plan B.”
“What’s plan B?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it.”
“Fine,” Peter scoffed. “But take actual notes in class. Don’t be weird with Ned, MJ, or May. Go to Decathlon sessions and brief me on everything. Got it?”
“Sure, whatever. I can do that.”
“Tony. School is not for the weak. Times have changed. Whatever you do, do not get me in trouble. Otherwise, I’ll return the favour.”
“Got it, Roo.”
Peter, in Tony’s body, pressed the elevator button for the penthouse, trying to steady his hyperventilation. Every step, every movement felt alien. He tried not to imagine Tony walking around in his body, making decisions that Peter couldn't control.
Curse Tony for being too adventurous in his projects…
When the elevator door opened, Peter quietly slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the sleek, expensive furniture, the view of the city lights sprawled beneath him. Everything looked the same, yet nothing felt familiar. Not the body, the space, or the life he was inhabiting.
He didn’t change into pajamas. That would have been far too awkward, not to mention terrifying – the thought of Tony’s brain experiencing his own teenage body in intimate clothing was unsettling to say the least. Instead, he climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up, trying to find any semblance of comfort in his alien situation.
He was scared for tomorrow.
Board meetings, billion-dollar decisions, maintaining Tony’s public persona – it all seemed impossible! And meanwhile, Tony was in Peter’s body… navigating high school, friendships, patrolling. What secrets might Tony stumble across? Peter had countless things he hid. What parts of his life would be exposed? Twisted? Misunderstood?
He stared at the ceiling and tried counting sheep to slow his heart. This was not just a body swap, thank you very much – it was a life upheaval. Inescapable and heavy.
This was going to be a wild time, and he had no choice but to survive it – somehow.