Work Text:
1.
“Shit!”
Peter’s head snapped up. “What’s wrong?”
“Got a papercut,” Tony replied, sucking his index finger.
“Oh,” he reached into his backpack, “I’ve got just the thing.”
Tony grabbed the Band-Aid from Peter. “Prepared. Didn’t expect that from a teenage boy. What else do you got in that Mary Poppins bag?”
“I’ve got tissues, hand sanitizer, and a sixty-four ounce water bottle.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “And why do you have those?”
“You’ll see.”
Not questioning further, and ignoring the stinging throb of his finger, he opened the crinkling paper wrapper, freezing as he opened it. “Are these…”
“Spider-Man Band-Aids? Yes. Yes they are.”
“They sell these?” He knew they sold them. He went through a long legal process with May because technically, though Spider-Man was a public figurehead and an Avenger, he was still a minor.
“Yeah! Isn’t it so awesome!” He opened his bag, showing the other Spider-Man merchandise.
“Don’t let it get to your head. It’s already big enough.”
“Oh, you speakin’ from experience?” Peter quipped.
“Rude!”
“What should I do with this?”
Tony looked over the teen who held a bloody human tooth. “Gross! Is that yours?”
“No, it’s Morgan’s. She came over to me and was like “Petey, get this safely to the Tooth Fairy. I trust you.” And then placed this into my palm and closed my fingers around it before giving it a kiss and wandering away.”
“Well we don’t have time to unpack all of that.” Peter gave him an annoyed eye roll. “But really, I’m offended. She came to you instead of me? I’m her father! She should be bringing me her teeth.”
“Then take it,” Peter went to give him the tooth.
“Nope! She entrusted you to get this to the tooth fairy. You have to be the one to do the transaction.”
He sighed. “This isn’t even how the trade even works. You put it under your pillow. Everyone knows that. This is you fault for not teaching your daughter the proper Tooth Fairy etiquette.” He looked at the tooth. “How much do you even give a kid? Ben would usually give me like a quarter or something.” Before Tony could respond, Peter said, “and don’t even think about giving her like a twenty dollar bill or something crazy like that. You have to earn that twenty dollar bill with your last tooth.”
“Fine. Give her a quarter. She has no concept of money anyways.” He eyed the tooth. “And actually, give me the tooth. I want to save it for my memory book.”
“You have a memory book?” Peter asked, amused.
“I’ll have you know that I am a very sentimental man. I’ve got hair from her first haircut, her baby footprint evolution, and a whole page filled with dates from the big moments.”
“Morgan makes you mushy, Mr. Stark. Look at you! You’re complete mush!”
Tony crossed his arms. “Says the guy who Spider-Manned across the city to get her her favorite pizza.”
“Well, we couldn’t just get Dominos! She likes the stuffed crust.”
He wiggled his fingers. “Tooth. Gimme.”
Peter handed him the tooth, wiping his hand on the side of Tony’s t-shirt.
“Oh, you did not just do that!”
“What are these?”
“Slippers.”
“That doesn’t really give me an explanation…”
Peter looked down at the shearling-lined slippers. “Well, I remember you saying how cold your feet get in your garage because the cold stimulates your brain and stuff, so I got you these.”
Tony stared at the slippers. “I don’t even remember saying that.”
“O-oh well you were kinda saying it in passing like “ugh my feet are cold but I have to keep it cold so I keep my brain stimulated” so uh, yeah.”
Tony looked down at his grey sneakers. “Well I’d put them on, but I don’t want to attack your senses with my smelly feet.”
“Oh, I don’t mind! But I mean, uh, if you don’t want to put them on, I understand.” Peter looked down, dejected.
“Of course I’ll put them on. Just wanted to warn you.”
Peter let out a giggle as he saw Tony’s Minecraft socks.
“Hey! Don’t judge. It’s an invigorating game that helps Morgan learn about geology and explore her creativity and stretch her architectural knowledge.” He slipped on the soft shoes. They weren’t anything special. He’d had slippers warmer and softer than these ones, but they were still wearable and from Peter. “Oooh, they’re comfy.”
“You like ‘em?”
“I’ll definitely be wearing these.” And that was true. He’d wear them until they had holes so big, that they were falling off his feet. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome! So anyways, this new web combination…”
“You love me.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do, and therefore, you will accept my bottle glass mosaic of your face with a smile and a “thank you, Peter.””
Tony took a closer look at the dangerously sharp piece of “art.” “Where did you even get that much glass?”
“Well, when I was dumpster diving…”
“You still do that? You know I’m a billionaire, right?”
“There’s some great finds in the garbage. Last week I found this nuclear physics textbook and it was even annotated! Bonus!”
Tony held back a smile. “Get back to the point.”
“Right right right. Well, I was in the dumpster behind my apartment complex, right? And I see that someone put their recycling into the trash bin which is like so not cool because even though most things that you recycle aren’t actually recyclable and don’t get recycled completely or fully, you should still recycle. But anyways, there was this shard of glass cutting through the glass and it was this amazing bright red and I was like “hey, this is just like Mr. Stark’s suit” so then I was like “wait a minute, I have an art final project coming up. I should do something for him!” So then I did.”
Tony’s heart thumped hard against his chest. He was used to getting gifts. In fact, he had thousands of adoring fans that sent him multitudes of fan mail, and though he would never admit it, when he was having a hard time he would read through the letters and sift through the fan art. Something about those gifts always felt so distant, though. He could never recall the faces of these bystanders of the people he had inadvertently saved. But this? This was from Peter. He knew Peter. He knew him so well, and a gift from Peter? He knew what that meant. “Thanks, kid.” Really? “Thanks, kid?” That’s the best you could do?
“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark.” He skipped to his side. “For your skin, I used a beer bottle because they have that olive-y tan thing you’ve got going on. For your hair I used these black bottles that smelled like old lady shampoo. For your eyes I used this ale jug that I found which is like so cool because I didn’t realize ale was like a modern thing, yanno? I thought it was one of those things that’s on those Hulu original historical fiction shows. And then the red is from that one bottle I told you about and the gold is from this essential oil bottle that made my head spin because, blegh, it was peppermint. But yeah! I, uh, I hope you like it!”
Like it? It’s amazing. It’s perfect. It’s the best part of his day. No, week. No month. This was going on his mantle. No, it’ll be forgotten there. It’ll go on his desk, the one that doesn’t get blown up. “Yeah. I like it.”
“Great!” He bounced to his backpack. “I also got a free chocolate bar from my physics teacher because I completed the weekly challenge equation. Do you want to share it?”
He nodded, his eyes crinkling as he grinned. “I’d love to.”
“I’ve got something for you.”
“I hope it’s not another damp burrito from that gross bodega you always go to.”
“They’re not damp! It was just raining when I came and it got through the bag.”
Tony swiveled to face Peter. “Okay, fine. Hit me. Whatd’ve you got?”
Peter reached into his bag and handed him a poorly wrapped gift, obviously clothes by how flimsy it felt in his hands.
“What is this?” Tony asked, perplexed.
“Just open it,” Peter urged.
As Tony opened it, his eyes widened. “NYU Dad? You’re… you got into NYU?”
“Full ride.”
Tony’s eyes got glassy. “I’m so proud of you, kid. Still disappointed you’re going to New York instead of MIT, but I know the city needs Spider-Man.”
“You’re disappointed?” Peter asked, his face dropping.
“What? No. No! I’m not, I was just joking. I’m so proud of you. This is amazing. You’re amazing. This is… you’re gonna do great things. You’re gonna be amazing.”
He smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”
“So what are you going into again? Synchronised swimming and avocado farming?”
He chuckled. “Double major in chemical and biomedical engineering.”
“Big fancy words for a big fancy school,” Tony joked.
”I’m really excited. After I got into the Honors College, they offered me a full ride for four years. But, I know I’m gonna want to get my PhD.”
Tony couldn’t help but stare at Peter. He hadn’t known him long, but seeing Peter blossom into the young man he was felt like a gift that Tony didn’t deserve. “We are going to have a celebratory dinner. Call May, I’m taking you both out. Where do you want to go?”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that…”
“I’m gonna do it and you can’t stop me.”
Nodding, Peter took a moment to think. “How about Cheesecake Factory?”
“How exactly is this applicable to biochemistry?”
The two stood in Tony’s cabin kitchen, an array of baking ingredients laid out on the table.
“Baking is a science, and since you’re gonna go back into the labs soon, you have to be debriefed on lab safety and precise proportioning.”
“This isn’t a lab.”
“It’s a simulation,” Peter corrected.
Tony looked at him incredulously. “Okay. Fine. What are we baking, then?”
“Macarons. The most delicate and difficult delicacy there is.” He showed him the recipe. “And, you get to choose the flavor.”
”Oh, lucky me.”
“C’mon, Mr. Stark, this is gonna be fun! Baking is fun. I get to do a lot of baking now that I’m back on summer break, and I want to share this with you. I’m giving you the gift of memories and delicious food.” Peter dumped a handful of chocolate chips into his mouth.
“If you keep eating our ingredients, we won’t have any left to bake with,” Tony said.
“Snacking is the best part about baking. The macaron batter isn’t the tastiest, but what you put into it can be. I’ve got raspberries, milk, white, and dark chocolate, strawberries, goji berries from your garden, blueberries, blackberries…”
“Lots of berries. Got it.” His eyes scanned the table again, his hand fiddling with the metal of his prosthetic arm.
“Are you alright? You seem a little… on edge,” Peter said.
“Just getting back to SI is a little daunting. Lots on my mind.”
“Why are you going back? I thought you did managerial stuff and worked on your personal projects at home,” Peter asked curiously.
“There’s some new Avenger recruits, and I’m commissioned to make their gear.”
His eyes widened. “That’s so awesome! That’s really exciting. Are you excited?”
Tony didn’t respond.
“Oh. You’re not… because you don’t want to go back to that world after…”
“I know it’s selfish…”
“It’s not selfish. Not selfish at all. You’ve been through a lot. You built it from the ground up just for it to be ripped apart and forced together and ripped apart again. You don’t owe them anything.”
Tony sighed. “I just know that it would be on my conscious if something were to happen to these kids and I did nothing to protect them. That they could be in the safest gear that I manufactured and kept maintenance.”
“Well, you don’t have to do it alone. In five years, I’ll be Peter Parker PhD. I’ll be more than qualified in both the engineering side and the superheroing side. I can help you during my breaks and I can look over designs virtually and I mean, you’re getting old, Mr. Stark. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“So, I know that you’re not really fit to be training a bunch of rookies. But…”
“But?” Tony questioned.
“But I am. And I would love to take this new generation of heroes under my wings. Or... webs.”
“I just don’t want you to take on too much.”
“This isn’t too much. I want this. I would love this.”
“No, I mean,” he struggled to find the words. “You’re getting Stark Industries.”
“I’m… I’m what?” Peter stammered.
“Well, you’re my successor in the R&D department. You know that Pep does all that CEO stuff now, and I’m in charge of all of the tech, and well, I’m the head of R&D, but like you said, I’m getting old and my fingers aren’t what they used to be,” he motioned to his metal arm, “and I don’t want to entrust my legacy to some possibly corrupt, grumpy old guy. I want it to be run by the face of the new generation. The mind of the new generation.”
Peter was speechless.
“You’ll have to work your way up to that, of course. But you’re gonna skip the boring stuff and get right into the real innovation.” He put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re gonna change this world. I know it.”
“I… thank you. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. I don’t know what to say.”
“The look on your face is enough,” he said with a soft smile.
“So. I’m training the Young Avengers, I’m building Avenger tech, and I’m heading up R&D? I guess I’m the next you.”
“No. You’re not. Because you’re gonna be so much better.”