Work Text:
Tony hadn't made a huge deal about it when he said it. He was already focussed on something, reworking some blueprints for some of Hawkeye's arrows in an attempt to allow him to carry more at a time. Even if he could already carry more than enough, better to be safe than sorry, he figured. Peter was also focussed on his own thing, trying to fix a blockage in his web slingers that had been making it harder for web fluid to come out. They'd been mostly silent, save for a few mumbled comments when something wouldn't work, asking for tools or even just mindless chatter. So, not really silent, but who cared about technicalities? However, at one point, Tony had looked over his shoulder at what Peter was doing, looking at the overly complex blueprint that the kid somehow managed to understand when most adults over double his age found themselves completely unable to. Even some of the smartest people Tony knew (keyword: some), wouldn't have been able to understand the blueprints as perfectly as Peter was able to. The kid was a fucking genius, no doubt, smarter than all his peers for sure. Hell, sometimes Tony was convinced the kid was smarter than him (not that he'd ever admit that, of course). So he doesn't exactly mean to let his next words slip out, yet they still ring true all the same.
"I'm proud of you, you know that, right kid?
He doesn't think much of it, not until the familiar clink or Peter tinkering with his web slingers comes to a complete stop. When Tony looks back over his shoulder, he finds the kid practically frozen, like it wasn't just his hands that had stopped but his entire body had come to a halt.
Well shit. That's not good.
He lets the holographic blueprint of Hawkeye's arrows fade away for the moment, no longer focussed on them as he turns fully to face Peter. "Peter?" He tries, yet gets no reply. There's no way the kid wouldn't have heard him, not unless there was something going on in his head that was much much louder than he was, which he sincerely doubted. So the lack of response is all the more worrying. He takes a few steps closer, coming to lean against the side of Peter's proclaimed workbench, affectionately labelled the 'Underroo's Workbench, Courtesy Of SI&PARKER Inc.'. "Hey, kid? You okay?" he tries again, halfheartedly waving a hand in front of his face. It never actually seems to work, not for anyone else Tony's met, but apparently it seems to work now.
The kid practically drops the web slinger on the workbench, his head turning to look at him comically slow. Whatever, the web slinger would be fine, it was built with strong metal after all (because, of course he'd give the best materials he had to the kid. He'd damn well earned it). The overly slow head turn would almost be comical, if not for the wide eyed look Tony's met with, Peter's mouth slightly open. Tony holds back the urge to make a sarcastic comment about it. "…What did you just say?" Peter mumbles, his lower lip trembling.
"Uhh, you okay? I mean, that's about all I said, really," Tony brushes off, cocking a brow at the way the kid looks… well he's not quite sure what he looks like. A bit more than shocked, not quite gobsmacked. It's, quite frankly, a weird look, and for as many of those as he gets almost daily by the kid, he's decided this is the worst one he's received yet. Because he can't quite decipher how the kid is feeling like usual.
"No- No, I heard that part. But… before that? What did you say?" Peter momentarily shuts his eyes as he shakes his head, and Tony is at least somewhat glad that the kid's stopped looking at him like that. He's had his fair share of strange looks thrown his way, it's like, half his job, really. But those looks are usually ones of confusion, amazement, sometimes even concern (which, he can't exactly blame them for). But never were they… this. The moment of respite is gone almost as soon as it came, as Peter looks up at him again with those same wide eyes.
"Oh- what? That I'm proud of you? Of course I'm proud of you kid, are you kidding? I mean-" He's cut off as a sudden weight hit's his chest, a head falling onto his shoulder. He doesn't stumble (okay, he might, but no one had to know) as his eyes fall to where Peter has buried his head against his shoulder, and he can already feel a wet patch growing on the fabric of his shirt right where he can only assume Peter's eyes would be. The kid's got at least a few inches on him now, so he can't imagine the position is at all comfortable for him, but he doesn't complain and neither does Tony. Instead, his arms circle around him, in a gesture that would usually be at least somewhat awkward but just feels comfortable with the kid. They'd hugged before- almost always initiated by Peter, and nothing more than short embraces, but they never happened often. And this hug feels… different. More emotionally fuelled than usual. That's… not surprising.
A few minutes pass, longer than Tony had hugged, well, anyone in his life. In usual circumstance, he would've shoved the kid off him already, telling him he'd simply suffocate if he had to spend any longer in this embrace, drowning in the pure amount of love Peter put into each and every hug he gave. And they'd laugh and go back to work. Or maybe they'd go grab something to eat instead- either or. But they'd be happy and smiling and not crying. Anyway, bottom line is, this wasn't usual circumstances. He doubts it would bode well with Peter if he shoved him off now- even if the kid wouldn't vocalise any of those thoughts. He had a tendency to bury those thoughts behind a smile and a laugh (no matter how weak or poorly hidden they were) and move on, usually coming up with a lie to explain it off. So he let's the kid hold the embrace for as long as he needs, no matter how desperate he is to get an answer from him as to what this was about.
Luckily, he doesn't have to wait long to get an answer.
Peter pulls back from the hug, sniffling softly and bringing a hand up to wipe way he lingering tears on his cheeks. "Sorry I just-" He's interrupted by another sniffle paired with a choked sob spilling from his lips. Peter swallows another sob down, instead letting out a wet, humourless chuckle. "Sorry- I don't know why I started crying. It's been a day, you know?"
Except Tony knows that's not true. He knows it wasn't true because earlier the kid had come in, flinging his back to the side as he rambled on about something from school. Admittedly, he wasn't entirely listening, but it was something about getting a good score on a test, a really good score, and apparently he'd been able to find some extra change in his bag and been able to afford one of the only good meals in their school cafeteria (which, he doubted was actually that good. But you take what you can get with cheap cafeteria food, he supposed) and those sorts of small victories that made his day better. And even when he was working on his web slingers and the blockage wasn't getting fixed, he was still all sunshine and smiles, all up until Tony had said he was proud of him.
"Peter," He says in what the other Avengers had teasingly dubbed his 'dad voice', and the kid's attention immediately snaps up to meet his eyes. Peter's eyes are still somewhat glassy, like even the smallest of things would cause him to break down into tears again, but his lip no longer trembles and his breath is slowly but surely returning to a regular pace. So he moves past it for the moment. "Peter, we both know that's not why you're crying. Be honest with me, yeah? Why'd you start crying when I told you that I was proud of you? It's not like it's untrue, we both know this, and May's not the type to not tell you she's proud of you." Peter sighs, running a hand through his hair as he no doubt attempts to come up with a reason that actually made sense. Not that it would matter if it didn't make sense. Half the shit Tony said didn't make sense to most people, but the kid still went along with it. So he would do the same for him.
"No- It's not that. It's not, I swear on it. And you're right, Aunt May does tell me she's proud of me- every time I come home with a good test result or do something well. B-But it's you! Mr. Stark it- it's you! I don't-" He pauses, taking a breath to at least attempt to stop his ranting and wiping away a stray tear with the palm of his hand. "Mr. Stark, Sir, you have to understand, right? People don't just get told by the Tony Stark that he's proud of them! I bet you could count the amount of people you tell that to- and genuinely mean it on, like, one hand!" He pauses again, his eyes flicking back to the web slinger, likely the only interesting thing he can keep his eyes on so he doesn't have to focus on Tony. Although, he's sure whatever the hell the DUM-E bot would come at a close second, given the bot's sporadic movement, which he made a mental note to look over. "And, you know… it's even rarer for someone's hero to say they're proud of them. It's rare people even get to meet their heroes. So,"
Despite the implication of the kid going to say more, the way his mouth is practically clamped shut tells Tony he's not saying anything more, not unless he says something first. But… yeah. Okay, sure. When he put it like that, he could see why the kid was so… awestruck. The reasoning met up. Even if he'd grown used to it himself, Tony knew well the level of his fame, both as Iron-Man and Tony Stark. He also knew that the kid's words rang true for a lot of people. He was a lot of people's hero, one many didn't get to meet, much less interact with on a personal level. So… yeah, no, he could see why the kid acted how he did.
"Peter, you know I'm always proud of you, right?" He says, watching as the kid returns to looking at him from the corner of his eye. He hadn't angled himself to fully look at him again, but he'd get there. So, he figured he might as well continue. "Peter, you're-and mind my language- a fucking genius. I tell you this all the time! Hell, you wouldn't even get to work alongside me if you weren't. You're so much smarter than all your peers- I've watched you figure out exactly what was wrong with an Iron Man suit and how to fix it before I'd even been able to. And I'm the creator of the suit!" He sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment to recenter. He's not used to being this vulnerable with anyone. He doesn't let others see him this vulnerable. But… it's his kid. He can sacrifice a bit of his pride for the sake of him.
"Look, I need you to listen to me, okay? And I need you to listen well. Everyday you walk through those doors, and you have this- this passion, this- this spark inside of you, and, truly, it's amazing. It's something to be so, so proud of. Especially when so many people, your peers are all so dull, so lack of any love for the things they do. Who look at things and refuse to do them, all because they look a bit too hard. But you? You just- you push forward! You don't tremble when things get hard, you don't give up when you fail. You keep going. And It's the type of passion I wish I had as a kid, because it's amazing." He takes a breath, pausing for a moment to gauge Peter's reaction. He'll keep going regardless, because he needs Peter to hear this, to hear that he's proud of him, but a positive reaction would help his confidence, at least a bit. Luckily for him, Peter chooses that moment to look away from the web slinger, meeting his eyes with ones brimming with tears once again. "Kid, everyday you go out there and you make me so proud, even if I don't say it nearly as often as I should. You go out at night, saving, quite frankly, people who are nothing but assholes even if not directly to your face, but you still do it because you know you have to. And because saving those people? Those people who are genuinely thankful when you save them? Who show their appreciation to you in the art they create and the stories they tell? You do it for them. You walk through the doors of this building, knowing I'm gonna throw some stupid challenge at you and you still grin. You still grin and happily come back the next day, raring to go with so much excitement for whatever I'm going to throw at you next. You show up to school, tired and injured from patrol everyday and yet you still do well. You get good grades, you perform well in class, you spend time studying, you get your homework done. And it makes me so proud. Everyday you make me so proud purely because of all you do. You handle pressure not meant to be carried by someone you're age, and you take it in stride."
Peter goes to interrupt, a choked sob escaping from his lips, but a single finger stops him. "No, kid, you wanted sappy, I'm gonna be sappy, yeah?" He waits for a response, and gets one in the form of a nod, and Tony takes it as enough of an answer. "Kid, you have this spark inside of you. And yet you always turn to me to ask what to do next. When you finish a project, you look to me to tell you what needs to be done next. You look to me when you don't know the next. And it makes me so fucking proud that I, out of any of the amazing people who work in this building everyday, am the one you turn to. It makes me prouder than you can imagine, prouder than i can express in words. But someday, I won't be here to tell you what to do next. I won't be here when you look to someone for guidance. I won't be here to push you in the right direction and you'll have to figure it out yourself. But that spark Peter. That spark. The one I see in you daily, that's what tells me you'll be fine without my guidance. That you'll be fine on your own. Because with that spark, that amazing little spark, you'll be able to do great things. And even if I'm not here to see all of them, I know already they'll be amazing." Tony sighs, reaching out and placing his hands on the kid's shoulder's to make sure he fully pays attention. "Peter, kid, I am so proud of you. I always am and you make me prouder everyday I see you. So never doubt that, okay? I will always be the person who is proudest of you. Maybe only second to May,"
With that, he pulls Peter in for another hug, letting the kid sob into his shoulder again. and he stands there with him for as long as he needs, rubbing his back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. It seems to work, because his tears subside much quicker than earlier. Though, that could also be because he'd already been crying as Tony spoke. Regardless, he counts it as a win. "Th-Thank you, Mr. Stark, Sir," Peter mumbles, still not pulling back yet. Tony gives him another moment, letting him calm himself down again before he pulls back, a comfortable smirk, though one that is a little softer than his usual smirks, on his face. He hopes the familiar smirk at least somewhat helps bring back a sense of normalcy to the situation.
"C'mon, kid, why don't we order something? I think we've earned the day off from working. We can watch Star Wars again if you want? See how many movies we can get through?" And the small, although weak smile on Peter's face as he pulls away to grab his bag is all Tony needs to know he's done something right.