Work Text:
“Peter, the Vulture just dropped you into a lake. I'm not letting you leave without going to the medbay. I don't care if you say you're fine,” Mr. Stark deadpans at him.
“Funny you say that actually, I think a bit of rest would help,” Peter tries, attempting to swing away and escape Mr. Stark.
“Oh no you don't." Mr Stark grabs the back of his suit to prevent him from leaving. Adjusting Peter into a princess carry, Mr. Stark starts to fire up his repulsors.
“Fine, fine!! I can swing over there myself!!” Peter protests. If he's going along with this, he'd like to keep as much as his dignity as possible, thank you very much. What would people say if they saw Spider-man being carried by Iron Man? He’d never be taken seriously again. Plus, imagine how awkward that would be!
“You better,” Mr. Stark threatens, putting him back down before flying off in the direction of the Avengers tower.
Sighing, Peter prepares himself for the long (and painful) trip.
Maybe he should've let Mr. Stark carry him, there's not much to swing from when he’s in the suburbs and all the buildings are low.
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“You seem all good, given you didn't swallow too much water. Do you have any other open injuries under your suit that water could have gotten into?” Dr. Cho inquires. He was just beginning to think he'd be able to get away without taking off the suit. Nothing against Dr. Cho, but this is the exact reason Peter didn't want to go to medbay. Personally, he’d prefer not to be vulnerable with someone he doesn't know that well –no offense to Dr Cho, but he just met her. He also knows Mr. Stark won't be happy to see injuries he wasn't alerted to and realise notifications for when he gets injured have been disabled.
“Nope!! Haha that’d be crazyyy. Crazy... Guess I'm free to go, right? Ok bye!” Peter lies, rushing his words out in one breath and attempting to bolt for the door before either of them can process his words.
“FRIDAY, lock the doors.” Mr. Stark says easily from the chair he sits in next to Dr. Cho. Great.
“Why!? Dr. Cho said I'm free to go!”
Mr. Stark levels him with a stare, completely unconvinced.
“First of all, no she didn't. Second of all, has anyone ever told you 're a horrible liar?” Mr. Stark tells him.
Rude. He can't be that bad if his secret identity hasn't been exposed yet. Given, that may just be because nobody has directly asked him, but his point still stands.
“I don't have any other injuries so I'm fine. Why does it even matter anyway?” he grumbles out, trudging back to the bed and sitting back down with a plop.
“Infections, Peter. Infections,” Mr. Stark says, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's dealing with a toddler. Of course he knows he could get an infection, but he's enhanced! He’ll deal!
“Well it's good I don't have any. Plus I’m enhanced so even if I am injured –which I'm not– I’d survive.”
“Then show us.”
“No,” Peter replies simply, staring directly into his eyes. There is no way he's showing them if he can get away with it.
“Kid, just let Cho disinfect them and then you’ll be on your merry way.”
“No,” he repeats.
“None of us are leaving ‘till you show us.”
“Guess we’ll all have to be roommates then. I'm perfectly fine with that, I have all the time in the world,” Peter bluffs; if he's not home by the time May wakes up, he'll be in serious trouble.
“Fine then, I have all night.” Calling his bluff, Mr. Stark gets himself cozy in his chair, and pulls out a Stark tablet from god knows where, starting to do work – or at least what Peter thinks is work. It's angled away from him, so it could be tetris for all he knows.
“...”
Dr. Cho leaves Mr. Stark's side and starts to organise the equipment used to perform Peter's check-up.
“...”
They cannot actually be serious right now. He has repeatedly told Mr. Stark he's fine! Even if he is lying, a little trust would be nice.
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Peter is so bored.
Apparently, Mr. Stark really does have all night, unlike him.
Mr. Stark and Dr. Cho continue to busy themselves while all Peter can do is sit there in silence, fidgeting and watching them. Any attempts to talk to either of them are ignored, and he's pushed back onto his bed every time he tries to get up. There comes a certain point where fidgeting, counting and naming every speck on the wall, ceiling, and floor, or guessing what Mr. Stark is working on for the 50th time is more boring than watching paint dry. Peter has never been one to entertain himself, and he knows for certain that the time before May wakes up, finding him missing, is running out.
“Fine,” Peter sighs.
Triumphantly, Mr. Stark looks up and Dr. Cho walks back over as Peter hits the spider emblem on his chest, disengaging the suit and revealing a set of t-shirt and shorts underneath.
He takes off his shirt in one swift motion and averts his eyes. He doesn't want to look at them. He knows what they're seeing. Even without looking at them, Peter can hear Mr. Stark standing up and Dr. Cho’s sharp inhale.
His skin, muddled with bruises of various shades of purple, yellow, and green, is covered in both old and new burns and scars. Sitting on his shoulders are angry red puncture wounds from the Vulture's talons only just starting to scab. The newer scars are notably straighter, more professional, as his stitching skills improve with each new injury he has to sew up himself to prevent himself from bleeding out in his bathroom after protecting someone.
Before either of them can get a word in, Peter cuts them off, "Don't. I already know.”