Chapter Text
“You and me, we’re going to go home and have FRIDAY find our magician based on your memory. And then we’re going to finally put a stop to this, alright?”
It had been four months of hell, four months of thinking that he could stop the loop only to come up short. But now, with Tony looking at him like that, his hands gentle and warm against Peter’s face, Peter smiled and nodded.
“Let’s get him.”
The next day, Peter rushed to the tower as usual. Before he even explained to Tony what was going on, Peter described the magician as best as he could to FRIDAY, having her run it through various police databases.
As she was searching, Peter launched into his usual explanation, but this time he was able to add, “But now I remember everything. I can finally end it.”
Tony smiled back, like he was trying to hide the worry. “That’s great, kiddo. FRIDAY, how we looking?”
“I have three possible matches,” the AI announced, pulling up pictures for Peter to look at.
“That’s him,” Peter said immediately, coming closer to the projected image. “The one on the left.”
“Info?” Tony asked.
“Cyrus Sparks, thirty-four. He has a record and an address in Bayside.”
“Cyrus Sparks?” Tony said, smiling incredulously. “That’s a magician name if ever I heard one.”
“Maybe it’s a prerequisite,” Peter muttered, a small grin tugging at his lips.
“Send me the address, FRI. We’ve got a wizard to find.”
Thirty minutes later, Peter and Tony were camped out on the roof of a warehouse across from the address listed for Sparks.
“Why is it always a creepy warehouse?” Peter complained under his breath, watching as Tony deployed tiny drones to infiltrate the place and get footage from the inside.
“This guy is really dedicated to the part,” Tony agreed. “You’ve got to admire that in a man.”
Peter hummed. The drones were reporting that no one was there, so he settled down for the long haul.
“You don’t have to stay,” he murmured to Tony as he stepped out of his suit and sat beside Peter, leaving the Iron Man suit on sentry mode.
Tony snorted. “Like I’m going to leave and just let wizard guy suck out your soul or whatever the crap you said.”
Peter clenched his jaw. “You don’t think I can handle him alone.”
Tony looked at him incredulous. “I didn’t say that, kid. But the stakes are a little too high for me to just go back home and twiddle my thumbs.”
Peter was quiet for a long minute. Tony kept one eye on him, one eye on the feed from the drones.
“We, uh, we’ll have a lot to talk about. Once I know you’re not going to forget everything.”
“Yeah?” Tony asked. Peter’s explanation today had been minimal, skipping the countless horrors and getting straight to what they needed to do to stop it.
Peter hugged his knees. “Like Ross,” he said, trying to sound casual. Tony’s eyes snapped to him.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing that matters anymore. But he knows who I am. Like... Peter Parker. He knows me.”
Tony sucked in a breath. “Yeah, we’ll... we’ll definitely have to talk about that. And maybe about why you look so...” He trailed off, looking Peter up and down.
Peter understood. He could feel it, feel whatever was making Tony look at him like he was afraid he’d snap at any moment. If only he could muster up the energy.
Sighing, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He wasn’t sure what to say.
Tony’s hand landed on his shoulder. He squeezed gently. Peter picked his head up and watched the empty warehouse for a minute.
“It’s ok, kid,” Tony said quietly. “We’re so close. It’s almost over.”
“I thought we’d ended it once before,” Peter mused. “Imagine my surprise when I woke up and it was still April 30th.”
“Pete-“
“What if it doesn’t work?” Peter asked, not caring that he interrupted Tony. “What then?”
Tony turned Peter toward him, grasping his chin so he couldn’t look away. “Then you come to me tomorrow and we try again. And if that doesn’t work, you come to me the next day and try something else. And again and again for as long as it takes.”
“Mr. Stark.”
“I’m not letting this beat you, kid, I’m not. Ok?”
Peter swallowed. “Ok. Ok.”
“I miss your smile, Pete,” Tony said earnestly. And Tony didn’t even remember the last four months, but this dumb spell had beaten Peter so thoroughly, had made him shrink and shrink until he hardly felt real, until Tony could tell just by looking at him that he was absolutely and completely broken.
He missed his smile, too, if he was honest.
He nodded a little numbly. Tony set a gentle palm against his cheek for a second, then turned back to the security feed, seeming content to let the moment pass.
The hours crept along. Tony pulled fruit snacks and granola bars out of practically nowhere, shoving them at Peter without even looking. Lips quirking up at the mother-henning, Peter took them and munched slowly.
“This guy is taking forever,” Tony complained, rolling his shoulders to work out a kink.
“Wizards. No respect for people’s time,” Peter said drily, raising a sardonic eyebrow. Tony laughed and the sound made Peter perk up a little.
Really, they were so much closer than they’d ever been before. They had an actual lead, an actual plan that wasn’t just shooting blindly in the dark.
Peter had never been one for pessimism. He was always the first to look on the bright side of things, to find the good.
I’m not letting this beat you.
Maybe Peter should stop letting it beat him, too. Maybe he should embrace the idea that... he could win. He had Iron Man on his side this time, the Sorcerer Supreme on speed dial.
If that was true, if they did manage to finish it, Tony would remember this tomorrow. For the first time, Peter wouldn’t have to swallow away the recollections of days spent together in the lab, of late nights working frantically until Tony came over and pulled him away from his desk, strong hands and soft words coaxing him to eat something, to go to sleep. He could tell him about the things Tony taught him, the coding and engineering and machines they had spent hours pouring over. The battles they fought and won together, the ones they lost.
He could remind Tony about falling asleep in his arms, about careful kisses to his temple. About cleaning off Peter’s blood, wiping away his tears.
“Hey, Tony?” Peter whispered.
Tony’s attention immediately zeroed in on Peter, seemingly alarmed that Peter called him by his first name.
Peter took a breath, thinking about all the things he’d wanted to say to Tony over the last four months.
He needed to say thank you. He needed to tell Tony about all the times he saved Peter; from danger, from fear, from his own grief. He needed to tell him that sometimes he was the only thing that had kept Peter going.
But really, it could all be summed up in:
“I love you.”
He heard Tony’s heartbeat stutter. The man seemed to shrink in on himself, looking down at his hands.
“Kid... you, um. You know that if this works, I... I’m not going to forget that, right?”
Peter had never heard Tony sound so small and hesitant. Peter leaned over and pressed his shoulder against Tony’s.
“Yeah, I know.”
Tony exhaled heavily. He dropped his forehead against Peter’s head and smoothed a hand up his back, briefly squeezing the nape of his neck.
“I guess I’ve got even more incentive to make sure it works, now, huh?” Tony asked quietly, his voice taking on that warm tone he only used with Peter.
Peter smiled, pressing closer to Tony. “Guess so.”
After a long minute of just listening to each other breathe, they pulled apart. Peter looked at the drone monitors while Tony tried to surreptitiously wipe his eyes.
“Mr. Stark.”
“Yeah, Pete?” Tony asked, sniffing slightly.
“He’s here,” Peter said, tilting the screen to show Tony. Sure enough, there was a figure moving around within the warehouse, his features a little indistinct but still clear. It was Sparks.
“FRIDAY, call Strange, fill him in,” Tony instructed, getting down low so that if Sparks happened to glance out the dingy warehouse windows, he wouldn’t see them. Peter followed suit.
When Strange arrived in a swirl of gold, he crouched down next to them.
“Stark. Peter,” he greeted. “A rogue sorcerer?”
“Apparently,” Tony murmured. “He has a hold on our spiderling here that we need to take care of.”
Stephen hummed. “I see. So, I come in the front, you and the kid come up behind—”
“The kid’s not coming,” Tony interrupted.
“Um, yes, the kid is,” Peter argued.
“This is not up for a vote.”
Stephen rolled his eyes and stepped back, holding his hands up as Peter cast a quick glare at him before focusing back on Tony.
“I need to help.”
“Peter, you’re angry and you’re desperate and you’re the one he needs. It doesn’t make sense to let you go in, Strange and I can handle him.”
“You don’t know that,” Peter said. “You’ve never fought him before.”
“Alright, fine, you wait here and if we need you we’ll call.”
“Mr. Stark, if you knew everything this guy has done to me,” Peter started, his voice shaking. “How terrible the last four months have been because of him—”
“I don’t need to know, kid, I can see it all over your face. And you are not the kind of person to want revenge. And I’m not letting you give in to that.”
“Bull,” Peter bit out, stepping closer to Tony so they were nose to nose. “When I told you about Flash you told me to punch him into next week.”
“Pete-“
“Why do you really not want me to come in?” Peter demanded.
Tony huffed, looking away for a second. He shot a fleeting glance at Strange who was watching the argument impassively.
“You really want to know, kid?” Tony hissed. “Fine. You told me that all that guy needs to do is land a single shot at you and you’re gone. Absorbed or consumed or whatever the heck. Dead is dead. And I’ve already lost you once.”
Tony never brought up Titan. Never brought up what happened when Peter was dead. Normally it would have stopped Peter short.
Not after what he’d lived through.
“And I’ve lost you!” Peter snapped.
Tony froze. Peter thought he might argue again, thought he might pull the “it’s different cause you’re a kid,” excuse, but instead he looked at Peter for a long time and then deflated.
“We probably need therapy, huh?” he murmured, his voice gentle again as he reached out and pushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes.
Peter huffed a quiet laugh. “Probably.”
“Think they’ll give us a two-for-one discount?”
“Like you need it,” Peter scoffed. Tony brushed a thumb over Peter’s eyebrow.
“Ok, Doc. You go in the front. Kid and I try to rope the guy up from the back.”
“Finally,” Strange grumbled.
“And Stephen?” Tony said quickly before Strange could disappear through the portal he’d just conjured. He was still looking at Peter as he said, “Let’s make sure to get it right on the first try. I’m liking this version of April 30th.”
Because I told him I love him, Peter realized with a blush.
“Please don’t involve me in your emotional family moments,” Strange said, grimacing. Then he vanished in a swirl of gold.
Tony rolled his eyes, but quickly sobered. “If I tell you to get out, you get out,” he told Peter.
“Sure,” Peter said.
“Ready, kiddo?” Tony asked, the nanobot suit reassembling around him. Peter pulled his mask over his face.
“Beyond ready.”
Peter took the southeast corner, crawling through a window ten feet of the ground. Strange was their distraction, walking through the front door, magic glowing around his hands.
“Cyrus Sparks,” Peter heard him announce. “You are in violation of sorcerer law.”
“Who are you?” Sparks snapped. Peter eased himself to the floor of the warehouse.
“Dr. Strange. The Sorcerer Supreme.” Tony, who’d slid silently through the back door, his armor spreading across his chest, rolled his eyes at Peter.
“I see. I must be quite the threat if the ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ felt the need to bring back-up.” Sparks rounded on Peter and Tony. They both froze in place, as if that would make him not be able to see them.
“Spider-Man,” Sparks nearly purred, a slow, Cheshire-cat smile spreading across him mouth. “So good to see you.”
A shiver of warning went up Peter’s spine, anger burning low in his stomach.
“Can’t really say the same, Cyrus,” Peter said, voice low.
Cyrus laughed. “Have a fun time, did you? I can see it in your aura. The fear. The pain. The grief. You’re reeking with it.”
Peter swallowed. Hearing the man who’d done this to him say those words with so much relish was enough to bring it all sweeping back, all the emotion and turmoil. The whisper of fear turned into a siren.
“Ok, that was super creepy,” Tony said, pulling Peter back to himself. Tony raised both gauntlets, aiming at Sparks. “Hands up, Merlin.”
“If you insist,” the man said with another twisted smile. He raised his hands, red magic swirling around them.
He shot a blast of light at Tony, who barely managed to dodge. The wall of the warehouse that took the brunt of the spell instantly caught fire.
“Kid,” Tony shouted.
Peter ran forward, snagging one of Sparks’ wrists with webs, using it as leverage to fling him into the wall. Before he connected, a glowing circle appeared and he disappeared through, coming out on the other side of the warehouse.
“I really hate that trick,” Peter muttered.
Strange threw a line of glowing magic at Sparks, catching his wrist more effectively than Peter had.
For a moment, it seemed like Strange had him. Then Sparks grabbed onto the line and pulled the loop loose, slipping his hand out of it.
“He can do that?” Tony asked, flying forward and punching Sparks in the face, sending him crumpling to the ground.
“Apparently,” Strange said drily, striding up and conjuring more burning ropes of magic, this time wrapping them fully around Sparks, pinning his arms.
“There we go, that wasn’t too bad,” Tony said.
Tony grabbed Sparks’ arm and hauled him up so he was kneeling on the cement floor of the warehouse. Peter approached, but Tony held his arm out, stopping him.
“Alright, Sparks. You’re going to take the spell off the kid. Strange here will know if you try anything.”
“No,” Sparks growled. He wasn’t smiling now.
“Yeah, that wasn’t a suggestion.”
“Peter Parker,” Sparks said quietly. Peter eyed him warily. “There’s no need for a mask between us. I know you better than Stark here, better than you know yourself probably. Take it off.”
Peter took another step forward. He knew it was stupid, but he wanted to take his mask off. He wanted to look at Sparks face to face and ask him why he did it, how he could do it. How he could sit back and watch Peter’s entire world fall apart every day and take pleasure in it.
“Kid, maybe—” Tony started, but Peter was already tugging the mask off.
“There you are,” Sparks purred. “So young. Practically a baby, isn’t he, Stark?”
Tony shifted, half-blocking Peter from view.
“That’s enough. Take the spell off,” Strange snapped.
“Why’d you do it?” Peter asked, his voice low.
“Pete, don’t.”
“What do you even want my power for? Huh? Revenge? That’s always what you guys are looking for, right?”
Sparks smiled again, that same slow, curling smile. “Oh, child,” he said, which grated. Peter was seventeen, would have been eighteen if this weirdo hadn’t messed with his life. “You have no idea what you’re capable of, do you?”
“Ok, seriously, I’ve had enough of this,” Tony interrupted. “Can’t we just kill him or something?”
“If you want to doom Peter here to an eternity of reliving the same day, sure, go ahead.” Sparks laughed when Tony cursed at him.
“He has to take off the spell himself,” Strange muttered. “Unfortunately.”
“And I can’t exactly do that with my hands bound, can I?”
Dr. Strange huffed. Then sighed. “No. I suppose you can’t.”
“Woah,” Tony said, stepping forward. “You aren’t seriously going to let him go, are you?”
“I’m going to readjust him. He needs his hands free to do the spell.”
“Relax, Stark,” Sparks crooned.
“Ok, kid, come here.” Peter walked over to Tony, eyebrow raised. Tony grasped Peter’s wrist, raised it like he was taking aim, and fired a shot of webbing at Sparks’ mouth. “Much better.”
Peter huffed a small laughed. He stayed close to Tony, comforted by his proximity as he watched Strange carefully undo the bands until Sparks could bring his hands in front of him.
In the blink of an eye, Sparks fired a shot of familiar orange light at Peter. Spidey-sense screaming, Peter made to duck, but before he could, Tony was stepping in front of Peter, wrapping the boy in his arms as the spell hit his back.
“Tony!” Peter screamed as Tony’s knees buckled. Peter held him up, tears filling his eyes.
“Not again,” Peter whimpered. “Doc, help me, help, he’s—please not again.”
Peter lowered Tony to the ground as Strange rushed over after rebinding Sparks’ hands. Peter cradled Tony’s head in his lap, tears dripping down his cheeks and off his chin.
“FRIDAY, the armor, the-the armor.” The nanobots retracted around Tony’s face and neck. Strange immediately jammed two fingers against Tony’s throat.
“He’s ok,” Strange assured, just as Tony started to groan.
Peter gasped, wiping at his eyes with one hand, wanting desperately to be able to see Tony’s face.
“Mr. Stark,” he pleaded.
“I’m ok, kid,” Tony assured him, squinting his eyes open. “Man, that packed a wallop.”
“Mr. Stark,” Peter sobbed again. He was trying to get control over himself, trying not to cry in front of Sparks, knowing that man would take some sick pleasure in it, but... gosh, that was too close. And too similar to when Tony had died.
“Why-why is he ok? What was that?”
Tony sat up but Peter didn’t let go of him, clutching Tony’s arms with both hands. Tony patted his arm, a little clumsily.
“That was the second part of the harnessing spell,” Strange said, examining Tony’s pupils. “Since he was never hit with the first part, it had no effect.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Tony said, smiling pleasantly, like he hadn’t just tried to sacrifice himself for Peter.
“’That’s a relief?’” Peter hissed in disbelief. “You could have died!”
Tony opened his mouth, turning toward Peter with a serious expression on his face, but Strange interrupted. “I think maybe this conversation should wait until I’m not holding a rogue sorcerer captive.”
Tony looked back over at Sparks, bringing his arm protectively in front of Peter.
“Right. Let’s get this over with.”
Tony stood up, the repulsor on his gauntlet powering up.
“Alright, Sparks. This is on its lowest setting. Do you know what that means?”
Sparks glared at him, his mouth still covered in webbing.
“it means it will hurt an awful lot when I blast you with it. But it won’t kill you. In fact, I could cover just about every inch of you in burns and you still won’t die. Do you catch my drift?” Tony asked, his voice low and intense.
Sparks glanced over Tony’s shoulder at Peter, his gaze hungry. Tony grabbed his chin, forcing him to look back at Tony.
“You don’t seem to understand. You either get shot a few dozen times, or you don’t. Either way, you’re taking the spell off. You’re not getting my kid.” The repulsor charged again. “What do you say?”
Sparks nodded, looking at the ground.
“Good little sorcerer,” Tony said. “Pete.”
Peter knelt in front of Sparks at Strange’s prompting. He looked the man in the eye.
He still didn’t understand how anyone could purposely make someone suffer the way Cyrus Sparks had made Peter suffer for something as pointless and burdensome as power.
Sparks looked back at him, that same hunger visible in his eyes, but tamped down with fear for his own wellbeing. Golden light formed around his hands and slowly, almost gently, washed over Peter.
After a moment, it was done. The second it was, Strange touched Sparks’ temple and the man went limp, collapsing sideways.
Peter blinked for a moment, at Sparks, at Tony. Finally, he looked to Strange.
“Should... should I feel different?” Peter asked apprehensively.
“No,” Strange said. “You probably won’t know until tomorrow if it’s worked or not.”
“Oh. Ok.” That wasn’t too bad, really, but he didn’t want to wait. He didn’t want to be disappointed again.
“Well, I’ve got to handle him.” Strange gestured to Sparks’ prostrate body. “Take care of yourself, Peter.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Dr. Strange,” Peter said, standing and stepping out of the way so Strange could form a portal.
“Stark.”
“Doc.”
And then he was gone. Peter sighed, turned to Tony.
“Let’s go home, buddy. It’s way past your dinner time.”
That was the third time Tony had referred to the tower as Peter’s home. Peter was pretty sure Tony didn’t even realize he did it, but it always gave Peter a little spark of joy.
“Dinner sounds good,” he agreed, smiling.
The first couple weeks of the loop, once Peter had started going to Tony consistently, they had had pizza every night for dinner because Tony always forgot they’d had it the night before. Peter had finally put his foot down, stating that he would probably never want to eat pizza again.
Tony didn’t remember that, but it still made Peter laugh when they got back to the tower to find several boxes of pizza waiting for them.
They ate on the couches, since Pepper wasn’t there and Tony didn’t care.
Peter tried to ignore how tired he was, how... disappointed he was that he still had to wait to see if it had worked.
“Kid?” Tony asked after a few minutes of silence. “You good?”
Peter sighed, put down his slice of pizza.
“You jumped in front of that spell,” he said quietly, picking at a piece of pepperoni.
“Yes,” Tony said simply.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“That spell would have killed you, Peter.” Tony also put his plate down, turning to look at Peter.
“You didn’t know that it wasn’t going to kill you,” Peter argued. His eyes were burning with tears again. He’d never been this emotional before the loop, but everything constantly felt so fresh, so drastic. It was like middle ground didn’t exist anymore.
“Didn’t matter,” Tony replied with a shrug.
“It matters to me,” Peter whispered.
“Oh, kid,” Tony sighed. He scooted across the couch, closing the distance until he could wrap an arm around Peter’s shoulders. He brushed his knuckles along Peter’s cheekbone.
“I get it now,” Peter confessed before he could stop himself.
“Get what?” Tony asked, tucking Peter under his chin.
“Why you always touch my face.” There was a moment of silence as Tony processed that and Peter worked up the nerve to keep going. “It was the last part of me you touched before I died.”
He would have heard Tony’s heartbeat speed up even if his ear hadn’t been pressed to his chest. He felt Tony stiffen. They didn’t talk about this. They never talked about this.
They probably should have. It would have saved them months of dancing around something that had been at the tip of Tony’s tongue when Peter was brought back.
“You died in one of the loops,” Peter told him. “Day eighty-nine. Some inhuman or something. He broke your spine.”
“Pete—”
“I was there. And after... I just wanted you to hold me.” Peter’s voice broke. “So I wrapped your arm around my shoulders and held on until the police came.”
“Kid,” Tony pleaded. He buried his face in Peter’s hair, pulling Peter even closer.
“I can feel it, all the time,” Peter hiccupped, his voice thin. “And now I... I always feel like I need to touch you to make sure you aren’t dead. Like I need to replace the memory with one of you alive.”
“Peter. Oh my gosh, Peter.” Tony’s voice was weak, too, like Peter had knocked all the air out of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Peter took a shuddering breath.
“I want to forget. Everything. I want to forget everything.”
“I know, buddy,” Tony soothed. He threaded his fingers through Peter’s hair, lowered his head so he could press their foreheads together. “But you can’t. You know that.”
Peter nodded reluctantly.
“But you talk to me, ok? You tell me everything, every second. I don’t want you going through this alone, Petey. Not again.”
Peter opened his eyes and looked at Tony. How many times have they been in this exact position in the last four months? How many times has Tony called him pet names and whispered encouragement and told him, both with words and without, that he was loved?
“I was never alone. You were always with me.”
Tony kissed his forehead.
Then they both sniffed and wiped their eyes, chuckling to disperse the heavy atmosphere.
“Movie?” Tony asked. He was still tucked close to Peter and it didn’t seem like he intended on moving, which Peter was fine with.
“As long as it has nothing to do with time travel, sure.”
To Peter’s displeasure, he found himself nodding off early that night. He had planned to stay awake until midnight, so he could know for certain if the loop was broken, but by 9:15, he was fighting to keep his eyes open. He was still bone-tired, still felt like he was being crushed by the weight of the time loop. It scared him.
“Come on, buddy,” Tony murmured to Peter, dislodging him from his extremely comfortable position curled up against Tony. The remnants of their dinner were still scattered around the coffee table, Jurassic Park playing in the background. “I’ll take you home.”
“Am home,” Peter mumbled. Tony’s hand stilled where he’d been threading Peter’s arm through his hoodie sleeve. His grip tightened around Peter’s wrist.
“Yeah, Pete, you are,” he whispered. Then he cleared his throat. “But I’m sure your Aunt’s wondering about you. It is a school night, after all.”
Peter groaned. “I haven’t been to school in four months. Going back is going to suck.”
Tony laughed as he hauled Peter up and started guiding him to the car. “Probably better than being stuck in a time loop, though.”
“Anything is better than being stuck in a time loop,” Peter said, his grave tone ruined by a jaw-cracking yawn.
The drive back to Peter’s apartment was a bit of a blur. He remembered music playing softly, rain pattering on the windshield. He seemed to feel Tony’s gaze on him a lot, but he was too busy dozing to check.
Tony walked him to his door, talking to May quietly as Peter stumbled passed.
“Pete,” Tony called before Peter could collapse on the couch. Peter looked over at him, blinking to try to stay awake.
Tony smiled at him, soft and warm, with a spark of humor in his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Peter agreed, grinning.
When he imagined the last April 30th, the last night of reliving the same day over and over, he pictured watching the clock flick over to 12:01, success and relief flooding his veins. Instead, May practically tucked him in at 9:45, Tony’s promise of tomorrow lulling him to sleep.
Peter’s phone buzzing on the nightstand woke him. And then it buzzed again. And again.
Peter jack-knifed up, grabbing for his phone, his heart beating fast in hopeful anticipation.
He dismissed his alarm with shaking hands. The date on the screen read Tuesday, May 1st.
A huge grin spread across his face, his eyes pricking with ecstatic tears. It was like a physical weight being lifted; where yesterday he had felt exhausted and old, he was suddenly rejuvenated, suddenly eager for the day ahead of him. Even the idea of school didn’t seem bad—he could learn something new today. He could see his friends without constantly being afraid of his identity being revealed in some violent, horrific way. He could finally move on.
His phone buzzed again, and Peter quickly unlocked it, half afraid of seeing that same text from Ned. Instead, it was from Mr. Stark.
Literally Iron Man: Come outside, kid
Peter didn’t need to be told twice. He leapt out of bed and ran straight to the door, ignoring May’s surprised exclamation from the kitchen. He sprinted down all seven flights of stairs, aided just a little bit by his spider abilities.
When he reached the ground floor, he burst out of the double doors and flung himself at Tony Stark, standing on the curb in a suit and sunglasses with an aloof air that didn’t quite match his half-smile. Tony caught him like it was an instinct, letting out a grunt of surprise as he got an armful of elated teenager.
“Mr. Stark! It’s Tuesday!” Peter cheered into Tony’s shoulder.
“Sure is, Pete,” Tony said, a laugh audible in his voice.
Tony held him close, one hand threading through Peter’s hair. He was pretty sure he felt a soft kiss against the side of his head.
Peter pulled out of the hug just far enough to beam at Mr. Stark.
Tony’s eyes were bright as he looked at Peter, like he loved him. He cupped Peter’s cheek gently in his calloused palm.
“You did it, Peter,” Tony murmured, his voice ringing with pride.
Peter closed his eyes, leaned into Tony’s hand. “Wouldn’t have without you.”
Tony hummed like he didn’t agree but didn’t want to ruin the moment by arguing.
“Go get dressed, kid, and we’ll stop on the way to school to grab a celebratory breakfast.”
Peter perked up, his stomach growling. “Ok!” He turned to go back inside when Tony called to him.
“Nice Iron Man PJs, by the way.”
Peter just laughed, pushing through the door of his apartment and hurrying up the stairs so he could go to breakfast with Mr. Stark.