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Peter couldn’t believe what his life had become. Ned often commented on the absurdity of it all, but if only Ned knew the true extent of the craziness. It wasn’t every day one found out that they were the sole heir and child of a billionaire who also happens to be a superhero, so there was that. Peter still really couldn’t believe it himself; it just sounded insane—he sounded insane when he said it. He was Tony Stark’s son. His actual son, biologically. He still had a hard time remembering that Parker was one of his middle names now; he was a Stark, and he wasn’t an orphan.
It had taken him and May about three weeks after his birth certificate was signed to move his stuff into the tower, but now Peter was officially moved in. He had breakfasts and dinners with his dad and Miss Pepper, they’d spend Sundays together doing something fun with Happy—whether it was going on a small road trip or putting together a puzzle in the middle of the living room—and he got lab days practically every day now. If Pepper couldn’t find him and Tony, they were almost certainly in the lab.
Some Saturdays, he’d follow Pepper around for a couple of hours, watching and learning as she did her job as CEO; that was going to be him someday.
Hopefully, in the far future, but it was still pretty hard to wrap his head around the fact that he didn’t have to worry about a job after university. He could actually go to university now; there would be no questions about affording MIT, because, of course, Tony Stark could afford to send his son to the same tech school that he had gone to. Peter was literally following in his father’s footsteps.
He still hadn’t told Ned and MJ. Part of it was due to the fact that, for the first few weeks, he had a hard time remembering that he was Tony’s kid. He had been Tony’s kid for so long that it felt like nothing had changed after the DNA test confirmed a paternity match. That was his favourite part of it all; Tony didn’t treat him any differently because he was his blood, he treated Peter just the same as he always had. He took comfort in that; it meant that, blood or not, Tony loved him.
The other part of him had no idea how to tell his best friends that he was Tony Stark’s son. He’d spent weeks trying to come up with a plan, but anything he’d come up with seemed too grand or impersonal to break news like this. He’d finally settled on something last night, and he was going to tell them today.
“Hey, Uncle Happy,” Peter said from the back seat, digging into his backpack for the apple cider doughnut he’d saved Happy from his and Tony’s time in the kitchen last night. “I’m going to take the subway home with Ned and MJ today.”
“Kid,” Happy sighed, glancing up and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You know I’m not really supposed to let you do that. I’m in charge of you, technically I’m your bodyguard now.”
“I know, I know.” Being a celebrity’s kid felt crazy; he had his own bodyguard. Technically, Pepper and Tony hadn’t released anything to the media yet, Peter had asked them to keep it under wraps for now, but Peter’s dad was still paranoid—overprotective, as Happy liked to say. “But, uh, Ned and MJ sort of don’t know yet, and I have this whole plan to tell them. Which kinda means you have to let me take the subway.”
“Peter,” Happy grumbled from the front seat as he pulled into the drop-off line at Midtown.
“I have an apple cider doughnut for you,” Peter offered, sticking his hand forward and wiggling the glass tupperware slightly.
Happy’s eyes travelled down the container, then back to Peter, before the man sighed and took the tupperware from him, setting it down on the passenger seat.
“Just this once,” Happy said, the corners of his lips quirked up in a small smile. “Not again after this.”
“Never again,” Peter promised, nodding vigorously. “Thanks, Uncle Happy! I hope you like the doughnut! I’ll see you for dinner tonight?”
It was Friday, and Fridays meant family dinners with Happy and May as well.
“Sure thing, kid.” Happy unlocked the car doors, turning around in his seat to look at Peter. “I’m picking your aunt up after her shift. Tony’s ordering Thai tonight. I’ll make sure to tell him you want extra green curry.”
“Thanks, I’ll see you tonight!” Peter grinned as he opened the car door and hopped out, bounding up the stairs and running inside.
Ned and MJ were already waiting for him at his locker, their books in their arms as they chatted away. That was a perk of Peter living with his dad; he could wake up a bit later because he no longer had to spend an hour on the subway to get to school. It sucked that he couldn’t just drop by Ned’s after school as easily anymore, but the extra hours and the quiet car rides did wonders for his senses.
“Hey, guys,” he said as he slid up to his locker, opening it and grabbing his physics textbook.
“What’s up, loser?” MJ was grinning as she leaned on the locker next to his.
“Oh, the ceiling,” Peter replied, smiling back at her as he slammed his locker shut, grimacing slightly when a small dent appeared in the door. “Shit.”
“Dude, awesome.” Ned was smiling, too, glancing down the hallway before turning back to Peter. “We’re still on for after school, right? MJ says AcaDec is cancelled today because Mr Harrington is sick, which means we get a couple of extra hours together.”
“Yeah, we’re definitely still on for later,” Peter said as the three of them started moving towards the physics classroom. “I was thinking we could build the Lego Himeji Castle, actually. Obviously, while also watching a documentary on it.”
MJ just smirked from her spot next to Peter, but he knew she appreciated it. She was cool, and while Peter knew Ned didn’t really have much interest in Himeji castle, his best friend was still going to be into building the Lego set. Best of both worlds, honestly.
Now he just hoped they wouldn’t freak out too much about his new life.
ᯓ★
“When we said hangout, we didn’t mean take us to your place of work, Peter,” MJ deadpanned as the three of them stood in front of Stark Tower. Ned was too busy gaping up at the skyscraper to say anything, but MJ didn’t look all too impressed.
“Okay, I am not taking you to work with me,” Peter replied, grabbing Ned by the strap of his backpack and jerking him in the direction Peter was walking; his best friend was still preoccupied with his staring. At least MJ wasn’t starstruck. “That would be lame. I’m taking you to my place.”
“But, Peter…” Ned seemed to have finally found his voice as they went in through the private entrance with a swipe of Peter’s badge, the doors opening immediately to the lift. “Your place is in Queens.”
“Kind of,” Peter said, looking up at the camera in the corner and winking. “Hey, Fri. Status report?”
“Hello, Junior,” FRIDAY’s Irish lilt echoed around the small space. Ned nearly jumped out of his skin; MJ, to her credit, seemed unfazed, but Peter saw the way her body jerked slightly from the sound of FRIDAY’s voice. “No reported incidents for today.”
Peter liked hearing about the lab mishaps, especially whenever one of the interns caused an explosion. He’d created a routine with FRIDAY; he would come home, hop in the lift and immediately ask her for a status report. She’d give him a detailed rundown of the day’s events on his way up to the penthouse.
“What was that?” Peter had known MJ long enough to know when she was trying to act cool. This was one of those times.
“That’s FRIDAY,” he explained patiently, pointing at the camera and waving. “She’s the tower AI. She’s super cool. Fri, be a darling and say ‘hi’ to Ned and MJ.”
“Hello, Ned. Hello, MJ,” she obeyed easily, her voice filling the lift again. “Existing nicknames include Ted, Fred and Scary Michelle.”
Peter laughed a little; he knew Tony would mess up Ned’s name on purpose just to screw with him. He’d grown to appreciate it; besides, it wasn’t like his dad didn’t use Ned’s real name. He did when they were having a serious conversation, but that was rare.
“Ted and Fred?” Ned looked slightly betrayed, but Peter only shrugged in return.
“Don’t look at me,” he said, watching as the number in the lift changed from ninety-one to ninety-two. “That’s Mr Stark’s doing.”
“Hey, look at that,” MJ hummed, nudging Ned. “We both get nicknames from Tony Stark.”
“Yeah, but yours is cool,” Ned replied, gripping the straps of his backpack. “I get Ted and Fred. Does he even know my name?”
“Oh, he knows your name,” Peter reassured his best friend, patting him on the shoulder. “He just likes to mess with me and, by extension, you.”
“Wonderful,” Ned grumbled, glaring at Peter. “I guess I’m Fred now.”
“Sure thing, Fred,” MJ responded, laughing when Ned turned to glare at her. “Hey, you said it.”
The lift doors opened with a chirp from FRIDAY, and Peter was stepping straight into the penthouse, MJ and Ned hot on his heels. He chucked his shoes off haphazardly by the shoe rack and chucked his backpack onto the floor, quickly taking off his jacket and hanging it up.
“Never thought Tony Stark’s place was a shoes-off household,” MJ mused quietly as she placed her shoes neatly next to the shoe rack, Ned doing the same.
“Anyone who wears shoes inside a house is barbaric, Em,” Peter said, picking his backpack back up and moving towards the living room.
“Peter, are we even supposed to be here?” Ned asked, gawking at the large open space. Peter knew Ned had never seen a place this big before; he was a Queens kid, and Ned actually lived in one of the biggest apartments in Queens that could be rented for a reasonable price.
“Oh, yeah, it’s totally cool that you’re here,” Peter replied, dropping his bag on the floor and opening one of the kitchen cupboards. “Pop-Tarts, anyone?”
“I’ll take one,” MJ said, awkwardly standing by the kitchen island with Ned, both of them staring as Peter rummaged through the cupboard for the Pop-Tarts.
The three of them startled when a loud thud sounded from behind them, followed by an exasperated groan, before Tony appeared and walked up to Peter, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah?” Peter asked, finally pulling out the box of Pop-Tarts and sliding them onto the kitchen island.
“Buddy, how many times do I have to tell you?” Tony huffed, tapping his foot and jerking his head in the direction of the living room. “Put your bag on a chair. Otherwise, you’re taking a trash bag to school next week.”
“Aw, come on, Dad,” Peter whined, the corner of his lips quirking up in a small, satisfied smirk when he caught Ned and MJ gaping. “So not cool. I’ll put my backpack on a chair next time, I promise. Look, I’ll even move it to my room, now.”
“You say that, but I’m just going to trip over it again on Monday,” Tony teased, yelping when Peter chucked a corner of his Pop-Tart at his head. “Are you two seeing this? Your best friend is bullying his father. I call elder abuse!”
MJ seemed to have regained her composure, to an extent, and shrugged in response. Ned was still too busy staring at Peter like he’d grown three heads to say anything.
“You know what?” Tony continued, wrapping an arm around the back of Peter’s head and wrestling him for the pastry in his hand. “I bet you do the bag thing on purpose. You want your old man to break a leg, huh, kiddo?”
“Maybe,” Peter replied, wriggling in Tony’s hold, almost free.
“Oi, give me that!” Tony reached out and grabbed the Pop-Tart, successfully snatching it from Peter’s grasp, taking a large bite with a triumphant grin on his face. “See, kids, that’s how it’s done.”
“Thief.” Peter stuck his tongue out, grabbing three more pastries from he box and handing two of them to Ned and MJ, opening the third one for himself.
“Little shit,” Tony countered, washing down the crumbs in his mouth with a sip of coffee. “Fred, MJ, it’s nice to finally meet you. Peter talks a lot about you two.”
“Uh, thanks, Mr Stark.” MJ was eyeing Tony warily; Peter knew she had some thoughts about him. She definitely didn’t approve of pre-Green Energy Tony, or Tony when he was a partier and a drinker. She didn’t exactly understand where the sudden change in personality and direction came from. That was okay, that wasn’t Peter’s story to tell.
His job was to just reassure her that Tony was a good person and a great dad.
“Peter never talks about you,” Ned said, having found his voice from whatever depths of his mind he’d been in. “Like, he talks about internship stuff all the time, but he never, y’know, talks about you. I didn’t know Peter lives here now. Did you adopt him, Mr Stark?”
Tony raised an eyebrow at Ned before turning to look at Peter, who was stuffing his second Pop-Tart into his mouth.
“Ted talks a lot,” Tony mused, but there was no annoyance behind his voice. “That’s a question for Peter to answer. I’m just here to warn you to never hack into my stuff again.”
“Dad,” Peter whined, rolling his eyes at Tony as he moved to go pick up his backpack. “That was once, over a year ago. Let it go.”
“Million-dollar suit, bambino,” Tony said, topping off his coffee mug and picking it up, heading towards the lab. “I’ll see you, kids, later. Have Fri let me know if you need anything. Happy can drive them home later.”
“Nuh-uh, he can’t,” Peter replied, scrunching up his nose. “He’s picking May up for family dinner tonight.”
“Okay, Roman can go instead then.”
And with that, Peter’s dad disappeared down the steps to the lab. Peter had only met Roman once, and that was when Happy was out sick. He was sort of like Happy’s backup, and he was nice—not Happy kind of nice, because Happy brought him snacks and would take him out for ice cream after school—but Roman didn’t seem to mind Peter’s chatter too much.
“Okay, what the hell?” MJ was glaring at him, but he just put a finger to his lips and motioned for them to follow him, walking towards his room.
“My dad can still hear you guys in the living room,” he murmured, closing the door behind Ned as soon as they were all inside his room. “My room’s soundproofed, so you’re free to ask away.”
“Did Mr Stark adopt you?” Ned was staring at him wide-eyed, trying to get a look at everything in the room without breaking eye contact with Peter.
“No,” he said, shoving his bag under his desk and pulling out the Lego set, plopping it on the floor. “No, this is gonna sound so weird to you guys, but I’m actually his son.”
“Cut the crap, Peter,” MJ retorted. Now it was her turn to look at him like he’d grown three heads. “That’s a joke, right? You’re joking.”
Peter shook his head, chewing on his lower lip.
“I’m not.” He was fiddling with the string of his hoodie and chewing on his lower lip. “People kept telling us how alike we are, and, you know, for peace of mind, my dad decided to run a DNA test. It turned out we were a match, and he’s on my birth certificate now. Tony Stark is literally my father.”
There was silence for a moment, and it was like nobody dared to move. MJ was still looking him up and down before something fell into place in her mind. He didn’t know what, but her entire demeanour changed, and she relaxed, sitting down on the floor with the Lego set.
“Still a loser,” she said, grinning as she opened the box, pulling out the instructions and sorting the bags. “Are we going to build this thing or not? Where’s that documentary you promised me?”
Peter laughed, sitting down next to her and asking FRIDAY to project the documentary on his wall. Ned tucked his bag behind the dresser door and sat down across from him, flipping through the instruction book. Peter had no idea why he was worried; he knew his friends knew him well enough that not much would change. They made that clear; they were still hanging out with him, MJ still called him ‘Loser’. Everything was just fine—perfect, even.
“Dude,” Ned piped up quietly, the clicking of Lego bricks nearly drowning out his voice. “What even is your life?”