Work Text:
“Hey Pete!” Tony yelled from the workshop “get in here!”
It was late on a Thursday night, almost everybody was in their rooms, but Tony was busy. Peter's suit had been damaged and he was repairing it, plus adding some minor upgrades. But the task had got him thinking, Peter was a smart kid, he had a few friends but… well Tony had noticed if Peter wasn't at school he was working with him in the lab, and if he wasn't there he was on patrol or doing homework.
He was a little worried that Peter needed more peer to peer interaction, like a normal kid.
Peter appeared from around the corner “What's up Mr.Stark?”
“You're not going on patrol Saturday night,” Tony began, he saw the look of protest on Peter's face and continued on before he was interrupted. “You're taking the night off.”
Tony had asked FRIDAY to find out if there were any parties going on over the weekend and sure enough there was one close by Saturday night.
“Mr.Stark?” Peter asked “are you.. did I do something? Are you mad?” The poor kid looked heartbroken at the idea of not being allowed to work on a weekend.
Tony smiled. “No, Pete you're not in trouble and this isn't a punishment. I want you to take a night off and go socialise with regular people your own age.” Tony explained.
The workshop was quiet for a moment, Peter looked puzzled. “So… Like a party?” He asked.
Tony nodded. “Exactly.”
“Oh. Okay I guess.” He turned to go back to whatever he was working on and laughed a little.
“Whats funny?” Tony asked.
“Oh nothing,” Peter smiled. “It's just funny, y'know? You're an adult telling me, a teenager, to stop doing smart stuff and go to a party.”
That was kind of funny.
They went back to their separate projects, Tony still smiling to himself, his kid was really something.
Peter went to bed around two am, Tony knew because he heard him bang into the doorway on the way out. Tony followed soon after.
Saturday night rolled around and Tony, despite the idea being his, was fussing over the kid. He didn't consider it fussing but Peter did, and Nat agreed as she walked past.
“You remember you have my number if you need picking up, right? I want you to have fun, not just worry, okay? And try and be back before dawn, and–”
“I remember Mr.Stark, don't worry.” Peter said reassuringly, gently cutting off the man's speech.
Tony saw the kid off around nine pm. Peter had assured him he would meet friends there but it still left a heavy sort of feeling in Tony's gut watching his kid walk off alone.
It would be fine, this was a good idea. The kid needed a night off.
That's what Tony repeated to himself as he headed back into the tower.
—
Despite it only being about 9.15 when Peter arrived at the party it was already in full swing.
Somebody had hosted it in the park rather than a house. That was probably a good idea considering the size of NY city apartments.
There were a couple of speakers like they have at live music events, a good few people were hanging out around the lake, others standing around, drinking, dancing. There were coloured lights projecting onto the ground and out into the trees.
Peter stood towards the outskirts to begin with. He pulled out his phone and texted Ned and MJ, he wondered if they were here already.
He waited for a reply.
And waited a bit longer.
Fifteen minutes later the message hadn't even been read. Had something happened to them?
Peter considered just leaving, going and finding them himself. Just as he was turning to leave a hand grabbed his shoulder. For a second Peter tensed, expecting a fight. Then he remembered he was at a party and nobody here –other than maybe a couple– wanted to fight him.
He turned and saw the hand that was on his shoulder belonged to a tall blonde dude wearing –oh this was embarrassing– a Spider-man t-shirt and shorts. He looked like a surfer dude that got lost on his way to California.
“Hey man, you alright?” He asked.
Peter wondered if he was meant to recognise the guy but nothing clicked in his mind so he just nodded.
The guy laughed and patted Peter on the shoulder before removing his hand. “You here on your own?”
Peter nodded again, then realised this wasn't how you socialise and said, “yeah, I think so. My friends were meant to come but I think their busy.”
“Ah, that sucks man. Hey, why don't you hang out with me and some other guys for a while, see if your friends turn up later?” He offered. A small part of Peter said something about stranger danger but a bigger part him didn't want to look like a loser the entire night.
Finally he caved “Sure,” and he followed the taller guy into the crowd.
“My names Chris by the way, you?”
“I'm Peter,” he introduced.
Chris led him over to a spot by the lake just behind the DJ booth. It was a little more out of the way but still very much alive. Seven or eight other guys and maybe four girls were laughing and joking about as Chris walked up. Peter trailed just behind, suddenly feeling shy. He'd fault guys ten times his size but a group of slightly older people at a social gathering was obviously worth worrying about.
“Hey everybody, meet Peter!” Chris called. Most of the group glanced over, a couple of them gave Peter a nod, one of the girls gave him a wave.
“Hey guys,” he greeted, trying to sound as casual as he could.
The music got louder as the sky got darker. Soon it was fully dark, and the atmosphere had changed. More electric, more energised as the part got started for real. People had brought more alcohol than Peter had expected. It emerged from nowhere specific but soon enough almost everybody had a bottle or can in hand.
It was a whole new experience and Peter wasn't totally sure how he was meant to act.
At least in a battle the dynamics were clear, take people down and don't get taken down yourself. Simple. This though? He had no clue.
“Here,” Chris said, appearing from behind him. Peter was sat at the edge of the spot Chris's friends had occupied. They were all off dancing now. He looked over at the older guy to see a can in his outstretched hand.
“Oh sorry sorry I can't, I'm not old enough,” he explained sheepishly.
“No shit dude, I'm nineteen,” Chris laughed “but nobody's gonna give a damn right now, c'mon.”
He really shouldn't, he was Spider-man he was literally supposed to upkeep the law.
But… well hadn't Mr.Stark told him to act like a regular teenager tonight? Plenty of teens drunk, plenty made rash decisions. It's not like anything terrible would happen, it'd just be a drink or two at most…
“Thanks man,” he smiled and took the can.
Peter had never drunk before and his first thought was ‘ew why do people buy this??’
But he didn't want to look like a kid right now, he'd sucked up much worse.
“There you go!” Chris clapped him on the back. “Now come with me you're gonna learn to loosen up,” the blond pulled Peter up and led him off into the crowd, keeping a hand on the small of his back so as not to lose him in the bustle. More people had shown up by now and the crowd was thick.
As the hours passed Peter began getting comfortable with Chris and his friends. Peter joked and handed him drinks and treated him like just another guy.
Not Spider-man.
Not a hero.
Just a guy having fun.
He didn't really pay attention to what he was drinking, or how much. He was just having fun and Chris wouldn't give him more than he could handle, he was nice.
The night grew longer and the party only got rowdyer. Peter saw Peter making out, a couple stumbling off to throw up. The music was loud and the lights disorienting and before Peter realised it he was staggering sideways.
Just like at the beginning of the night a strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Woah there man, you alright?”
Oh it was Chris, that's good.
Peter was so happy to see him, he'd been off doing something else for… huh how long had it been? What time was it? He decided it wasn't important.
“Yeahh im great!” Peter slurred slightly, shouting to be heard over the beat of the song playing.
Chris just smiled and pulled Peter off to the outskirts of the crowd and tried to hand him another drink. Peter shook his head, then stopped when it made the world spin.
“It's just water, you're more of a lightweight than I thought.” Chris laughed.
Peter squinted, trying to keep his vision from swimming and his hand from shaking. It didn't work, he couldn't keep hold of the drink and Chris pulled it away.
“Heyy–” Peter was cut off as the taller man held the plastic cup up to his lips, one hand holding the cup the other holding the back of Peter's head.
Suddenly his face felt flushed and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. A strange feeling bubbled up in his stomach and it was all he could do to drink the water.
Once the water was gone Chris lowered the cup slowly, dropping the cup absentmindedly. He did not, however, move his hand from the back of Peter's head. The odd feeling in his gut didn't disappear, if anything it grew.
For a second neither moved.
Then Peter did.
Don't ask him what he was thinking, he wasn't. All he knew was he was curious and too drunk to think critically.
He closed the distance between them and, on his tiptoes, kissed him.
It wasn't great, movies made it look more romantic. But still, Chris didn't stop him. He didn't step back or tell him to stop. So he didn't. After a few seconds Chris did more than allow it, he pulled Peter closer.
When they finally broke apart Peter felt breathless and very, very drunk.
Chris had a look on his face that he couldn't decipher and before he got a chance the world tilted sideways and everything went dark.
When he woke up a couple of people were sitting around him, ones from earlier that he vaguely recognised. Chris was not there, that was weird, his drunken brain realised. Had something happened?
“Oh mornin'” one of the guys, Peter couldn't remember his name, said. Nobody else looked particularly good but he probably looked the worst.
All he could manage was a groan. He had no clue why he was laying on the ground, the last thing he remembered was… huh, the night was sort of a blur.
A pang of something, something bad, hit him. Suddenly he missed the tower, he missed his room and most of all he wanted Mr.Stark.
Peter pushed himself up, fixing his eyes on a tree a little way away to stop himself falling back down. Once he was on his feet he mumbled a quick excuse that he hoped made sense and set off home.
The tower was fifteen minutes away. Thirty two minutes later Peter was somewhere around the halfway point. That's when his stomach finally gave in and he doubled over, retching into a bush. Gross. God he wanted to go to bed.
Finally, finally he reached the doors of Stark Tower. He wasn't totally sure how he got him but he did.
Unfortunately he must have been making much more noise than he'd realised because as he lay there, on the kitchen floor where he'd given up, there was a ‘ding’ from the elevator.
None other than Tony Sark, dressed in ironman pajamas –pretentious– stepped out.
“Tonyyy!” Peter whined.
—
‘Sir, Peter is back.’ FRIDAY stated.
Tony hadn't gone to bed, he couldn't. Yes he trusted Peter, yes he told the kid to go out. But still. So when FRIDAY told him that, at roughly four am too, he was already on his way out of his workshop.
For some reason the kid was in the kitchen, Tony could only hope he wasn't hurt. The elevator dinged as the doors opened and he stepped out.
He was greeted by the sight of Peter, laying on the kitchen floor looking dishevelled and clearly drunk as hell.
“Tonyyy!” The kid whined. God he sounded bad, his voice was hoarse he'd definitely be feeling this all tomorrow.
Tony rushed over. “Kid, hey, you okay kid?”
Peter was having trouble focusing on his face. A dumb smile split across his face.
“You like meee,” Peter slurred.
“Yeah kid,” Tony sighed. “Come on, you need to sleep.”
Peter raised his arms up at Tony. “Carry mee!”
Tony couldn't help but smile. The first time he'd gotten drunk he definitely didn't have what Peter had now. This might not be his kid but why not treat him like he was? It's not like he'd even remember.
So Tony braced himself and picked Peter up in a bridal carry and headed for the elevator.
Peter was asleep before the doors opened again, head resting in the crook of Tony's neck.
Tony walked down the hall to the kid's room and pushed the door open with his foot. He lay the kid down on his bed, then placed the trash can by the bed just in case.
He was going to leave then, but just as he took a step away from the bed Peter's small, slurred voice spoke.
“I love you.. dad.”
Tony whipped around but the kid was already asleep again. The words were probably one of the best presents he had ever received. He loved this kid. He loved his kid. And unlike some fathers Tony was going to tell him that.
“I love you too, kid.”
Peter might have a horrible morning in store for him tomorrow but right now he looked so peaceful laying there. Tony stayed for a while, just watching and thinking and finally he too falls asleep in the kid's chair.