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Tony was making hot chocolate for Peter. The kid had been moping all day, disappointed by the results of his last Spanish test. It was a B+, and Tony had tried convincing Peter that a B+ was fine, especially given he hadn’t studied at all, but the kid wasn’t taking it. At first, Peter had been worried that Tony would get angry, which was ridiculous. Much to some people’s disagreement, Tony wasn’t Howard. Breaking the cycle of shame and all.
Tony opened a cupboard and brought out peppermint extract. Jarvis had always put it in his hot chocolate when he was a kid and it had always been a comfort for him. He hoped the kid would like it too.
Tony finished up the two mugs of hot chocolate and brought them to the living area, placing them on his ridiculously overpriced mahogany coffee table.
“Hey FRI, tell Peter to come out here, ‘kay,” he commanded, sitting down on the couch.
“You got it, boss.”
Tony waited on the couch, and after a few minutes, Peter came out. He was wearing flannel Iron Man pajamas with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “Hey Mr Stark,” he greeted. “FRI said you needed me.”
“I made hot chocolate.” Tony gestured to the table in front of him, inviting Peter to a mug. Peter tilted his head.
“Uh, okay…” Peter sounded unsure. “Are you still not mad?”
Tony frowned. His kid needed more self esteem. “Why would I be mad, Pete?”
Peter sniffled. “I got a bad grade ‘cause I didn’t study.”
“It’s not a bad grade,” Tony reassured. “A B+ is good. Plenty of kids would kill for that.”
Peter frowned. “Not at my school. And I should’ve studied.”
Tony shook his head, patting the couch next to him to sit. Peter came over and sat, but still seemed shy.
“Kid, I’d be mad if you never studied, but you study all the time for most subjects. The fact that you didn’t have time to study for a Spanish test is fine, and you got a B+ in spite of it, which is great. Stop beating yourself up over nothing.”
Peter nodded. “Okay I guess… I just know I could’ve done better.”
Tony smiled. “I’d rather you have a healthy sleep schedule.” He picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip. Peter followed suit. “I love you kiddo. You wanna go do some labtime? I’m working on a new arm that will work better with the nano-suit.”
Peter nodded, but then a strange look came over his face. He looked nauseas. “Mr Stark, I don’t feel so good.”
Tony froze. He was back on Titan again, his kid crumbling in his arms.
“Mr Stark, I don’t feel so good.”
Peter was crumbling, pieces of his skin flaking away into dust.
“I don’t wanna go sir, please.”
His kid was dying, flaking away like nothing.
“I’m sorry.”
There was nothing he could do.
There was someone telling him to calm down. To breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He counted with whoever was talking. FRIDAY, maybe. He breathed. Once. Twice. He opened his eyes. FRIDAY had been telling him to breathe. Peter wasn’t speaking. Peter was… shit, Peter was on the ground, puking his guts out.
“Peter?” Tony asked, frantic, rushing over to his mentee. The kid was still puking, only bile coming up. “Peter, what’s wrong?”
“Feel sick,” he groaned. “What was in the hot chocolate?”
Tony paused. “Uh, milk, cocoa, peppermint?”
“‘S the peppermint,” Peter grunted, leaning over to puke a bit more bile onto the carpet. Tony made a note to clean that later, almost gagging slightly at the smell.
“What, you hated it that much?” Tony joked, rubbing Peter’s back, but he was still concerned something horrible was going on that he didn’t understand properly.
Peter shook his head. He looked green. “Can’t have peppermint. ‘S a spider thing.”
“Shit bambino,” Tony said, feeling guilty for basically poisoning his kid. He wouldn’t be adding peppermint to his hot chocolates again. “I’m sorry. It’s just what I had as a kid. Won’t do it again, promise.”
“‘S okay,” the kid replied. “You didn’t know.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry. I hurt you, kiddo. I don’t like seeing you hurt,” Tony fussed, scanning Peter to make sure he wouldn’t puke again.
“You hurt too,” Peter said, and Tony frowned. He wasn’t hurt as far as he was aware. Was he bleeding or something?
“No, squirt. I’m not hurt, see?” Tony lifted his arms and did a quick 360 to show his kid he was fine.
“No. You panicked. What I said reminded you of Titan.” Tony stilled. The kid was observant, damnit. “Didn’t realise I said it till after. Sorry.”
Tony shook his head. “It’s fine. It was an accident. No harm,” he dismissed.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry,” the little shit used his words against him.
Tony smirked. “You’re such a shit. Let’s get you cleaned up, if you’re feeling okay.”
Peter peeled himself off the carpet. “I feel good now. Sorry for puking all over your carpet, though. Must be super expensive.” Tony chuckled at the kid’s priorities. Of course he prioritised Tony’s furniture over his own wellbeing.
“I can always buy a new one. I can’t buy a new you, buddy,” he replied, and Peter smiled. “I love you bambino, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” the kid replied sarcastically. “Wait, so you’re not mad about the grades, right? Like you didn’t just poison me on purpose.”
“Kid!” Tony gasped overdramatically, bringing a hand to his chest. “I am mortally wounded you’d think I’d do that.”
The kid giggled. “Yeah well, you can never be too sure.”
Tony sighed, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose and rubbing it. “You smell like puke you little shit. Go have a shower and change.”
“Okay!” The kid ran towards his bedroom “If you want I can clean your carpet by the way!” he yelled back to Tony.
“Nah!” Tony yelled as a reply.
“Thanks Mr Stark!”
“No problem! Love you!”