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Before Peter even opens his eyes, he remembers everything.
Doctor Strange summoning heroes onto the battlefield, Captain America shouting “Avengers Assemble!” and everyone unleashing a can of whoop-ass.
His reunion with Iron Man.
Tony Stark looks exactly the same as he did five years ago when Peter watched him fade to ash, a horror that the kid will never get over.
Well, he’s twenty-one now, definitely not a kid anymore but at that moment, seeing his father figure in all his glory, he’s sixteen again, a sixteen-year-old who just wants to hug his “Mr. Stark.”
And, boy, that hug.
Nothing in this universe will ever top that hug.
And Peter will physically fight whoever says otherwise.
The spiderling remembers the gauntlet, the coveted gauntlet that got everyone playing a dangerous game of “Hot Potato” in order to keep it from Thanos.
The gauntlet somehow landing in his hands.
Looking up to see Doctor Strange holding up the number “one,” letting him know that this - out of fourteen million whatever possibilities - is the one and only way to stop Thanos.
Putting the armored glove over his right hand, hearing his newly reunited father figure shout his name in terror.
But what happened after that? Peter wonders.
He opens his eyes as his mind scrambles to find the rest of that memory. Did he kill Thanos, what the fuck happened -?
“Oh, baby!” May’s cry snaps the hero out of his stupor, grunting in surprise when she gives him a hug.
Holy shit, Aunt May.
Aunt May is giving him a hug.
The first one she’s given him in five years.
“May -” he doesn’t say anything more as a sob escapes him, his head burying into the crook of her neck, letting her maternal warmth engulf him whole.
Peter’s left arm reaches out and wraps around his aunt’s back, frowning at not being able to do the same with his right one.
He then pulls away in confusion, looking to his right and gasping at what he sees.
Nothing.
Where his right arm should be, nothing is there. His eyes follow the invisible trail up to his shoulder. Instead of the joint for his arm, he sees the sleeve of his hospital gown hanging limply by his chest.
With no arm filling it.
The young man’s lip uncontrollably quivers, his trembling left hand reaching towards that void when another hand stops him, this one rough but warm, something that he desperately needs right now.
Iron Man.
“What -?” Peter starts but his father figure cuts him off.
“Shh, it’s alright, buddy, look at me.” The man gently grabs his protege’s jaw and twists it to his direction, giving him a smile, “Hey, Pete. You gave us quite a scare there, huh?”
Mr. Stark.
He’ll fix it, he can fix everything.
The young genius physically shudders, more sobs making themselves known as the older man gives him a hug, taking solace in the added comfort of May rubbing his back.
The two most important people in his life are back, they’re here, right here.
And he’s too busy crying to actually form words.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” May says, giving him a kiss on his forehead as she continues rubbing circles into his back, “I’m so proud of you, you know that?”
Her nephew can only nod his head in response, the sobs getting louder as the severity of the situation finally sets in.
Spider-Man killed Thanos but it cost him his right arm.
Tony tightens his hug, careful to avoid the injury and any wires he’s connected to, and continues lightly shushing him, “It’s alright, buddy, it’s alright. I know you’re scared but it’s gonna be okay, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
Again, Peter nods his head, continuing to cry, sob, sniffle, for God knows how long.
His guardians don’t let up the whole time.
After several minutes, the web-slinger settles down to sniffles, using his gown to wipe any snot from his nose, “Wha -” he starts, trying his damndest not to look at what’s not there, “What, uh, what happened?”
“You did the smartest stupid move I’ve ever seen, that’s what happened,” Tony says, sporting a smile despite the wording, “But I couldn’t be more proud of you.” He gently ruffles the tyke’s hair, “Why the fuck didn’t you just pass that gauntlet to me -?”
“No time,” his intern responds, his voice raspy from the crying, “Strange, he uh, gave me a signal.” Peter swallows a lump in his throat, “It’s the one, it was supposed to happen.”
“Well, I’m gonna be having more than one choice words with that son of a bitch -”
May cuts in sharply, “Tony -”
“I said what I said.” The older man turns to his kid, voice softening, “Do you feel anything, you hurting anywhere?”
Peter shakes his head, “I feel…uneven.”
“That’s just something you gotta get used to, baby,” May says, giving her charge a squeeze on his shoulder, “But we’ll be here with every step. Need anything, can I get you anything?”
“Um, water please?” He sees his guardian stand up, grabbing a cup on the hospital cart and walking over to the sink. He then turns to his father figure, “What, um, what happens now?”
“Well, obviously a certain somebody has gotta rest up for a little while. And then we’ll take it from there.”
“Which is where?”
“How ‘bout you don’t stress yourself out so much and just take it one day at a time, okay? I mean just…look at cha.” Tony grabs the other’s hand, giving him an amused smile, “I can finally go get a beer with my kid.”
The young man chuckles at that, to his elder’s light surprise, “But beer’s so gross though. Now White Russians, those things are delicious.”
“Eh, I’m too much of a simpleton, I guess. What else do you like?”
May then comes back with a cup of water. Her kid takes a few sips before he answers, “Uh, Miss Potts made me a mai tai one time, those were pretty good. Me, Ned, and MJ like to go get margaritas.”
“They survived the snap too?” May asks.
Peter nods his head, “Yeah, thank God, I don’t know what I would’ve done without them. Where are they anyway, have you talked to them? How’s Miss Potts?”
An unknown voice answers from the doorway, “Worried sick and she couldn’t wait any longer to get in here.”
The woman herself, Pepper Potts, walks into the hospital room, looking worried as she rushes over to the young man. Like the other adults, she’s wearing casual clothes, some large cuts still visible on her arms and face from the battle.
Tony backs into his chair to give his fiance some room. As said woman gives him a hug, Peter notices a tranquil look his mentor is giving her. The spiderling finds himself unexpectedly wishing that he witnessed their reunion, and wondering if they’ll start making plans for a long-overdue wedding.
“You okay?” Pepper asks when they separate, hands cupping the young man’s face, “And none of this ‘I’m fine’ business.”
“I don’t know,” Peter says with a playful scoff, “Mr. Stark’s got me doped up pretty good -”
“Pretty good?” Tony cuts in, “You’re not supposed to be feeling anything -”
“I’m not, I’m not, I promise,” his protege says, tilting his head to look at the other man, “Am I gonna be on painkillers forever?”
“No,” Pepper says, answering for her other half, “It’s gonna take some time but I promise that before you know it, this’ll be like second nature to you.”
“I hope so,” the young hero replies, turning back to the older woman and taking note of her injuries, “Are you okay? Some of these don’t look so good -”
“Yes, relax, nothing a few butterfly bandages can’t handle.” Pepper gives him a kiss on the center of his forehead, ruffling some hair out of his face, “I’ll get your room all set up, let me know if you need anything, okay? You know where to find me.”
Peter nods his head, giving her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”
With a kiss from her betrothed and a hug from May, she leaves the room, pulling out her phone to make the necessary phone calls.
“You still got a room here, that’s good,” Tony says.
“Yeah, I live here now, I’ve been living here since…everything.”
May coos, rubbing the back of her nephew’s neck, “Aw, Pepper took you in?”
“Yeah, we kinda took each other in if that makes sense. We, uh,” Peter looks up at his parental figures, “Went through a lot. We brought everything from the apartment, here I mean.”
“And it’s gonna stay here,” Tony says, giving May a smile, “You guys can have a whole floor.”
May scoffs, “Tony, that’s not necessary -”
“Who says it has to be necessary?” The older man leans forward, grabbing one of her hands and giving it a heartfelt squeeze, “I have too much empty space and I can’t imagine anyone better to fill it than you two.”
“I mean,” Peter says, giving his aunt a cheeky grin, “Do we really wanna move all our shit to another place? This place, it’s home now. Well, not now now, like I wanna get outta here now but y’know what I mean.”
“Okay, fine,” May says, shaking her head in amusement, “Staying here will be better for Peter’s recovery anyway.”
“Oh God,” her kid says, looking back on his right side, “What am I - what am I gonna do -?”
Tony cuts him off, “You’re gonna take it one day at a time, kiddo, it’s all we can do.”
Kiddo.
When was the last time Peter was called “kiddo”?
“Mr. Stark?”
“Yeah?”
“Never stop calling me that.”
Not even when I’m fifty.
-
To say it’s a tough transition is an understatement.
Not just with the arm, either. That gauntlet left scars and burns from his collarbone all the way up the right side of his face.
Which Peter didn’t notice until the first time he got to his bedroom after being released from medbay, staring at the mirror behind his door.
He stares for so long that tears form in his eyes since he hasn’t blinked in a couple of minutes.
It was for the greater good.
All for the greater good.
He may have made the right decision but if he hides his mirror in his closet for the indefinite future, can anyone blame him?
Since his right arm was his dominant one, Peter has to learn how to do everything with his left hand: writing, eating, brushing his teeth, driving but that’s more to do with picking up his drink or grabbing something he dropped rather than the actual driving.
Nevertheless, Tony has plans to modify the steering wheel so it can better accommodate him, no matter how many times his kid tries to talk him out of it.
Then there’s the day-to-day tasks that everyone else does with both hands without even thinking: changing clothes, showering, texting, hell, just typing up a college paper takes twice as long, and that’s with using the tutorials from YouTube as guides.
Peter tries not to get frustrated, honestly he doesn’t. He knows it’s going to take time to adjust to this way of life but having to learn to undo his pants with one hand before using the bathroom…
Well, let’s just say his pride has taken a hit.
Through it all, his family and friends stay by his side, pointedly not focusing on the disability or the scars, which the young man appreciates. May, with her experience as a nurse, takes care of the bandaging, replacing the wrapping with new ones, Pepper sometimes getting the job done if his aunt isn’t there.
The spiderling makes his periodical doctor’s visits, examining his limb, how the healing is progressing, thanking God that his healing factor is still working in his favor.
If only that power could grow back his arm.
One day, about a month after the battle, Tony and Peter are spending time in the lab. The former is installing a one-handed spinner on his kid’s steering wheel while the latter is off to the side, willing to hand any tools to his father figure, but he’s there more for company than anything else.
“So, I wanna ask you something,” the billionaire says.
“Shoot.”
“How do you feel about a prosthetic?”
Peter’s head snaps to meet his mentor's, whose gaze is set on the last few screws of that spinner knob. “Um,” the spiderling starts, “Is that a possibility?”
“‘Course it is,” Tony says with a playful scoff, “You think that’s something you’d be interested in?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I - what do I have to do?”
“Well, we can’t get one right away, gotta make sure it’s healed completely -”
“Dr. Banner said it’s about there -”
“Which is why I’m bringing this up now,” Tony says, looking up at his kid with a kind smile, “After it’s fully healed, we can start shaping it.”
“Shaping it? What’s that?”
“Well, don’t freak out -”
“Mr. Stark, nothing on this earth freaks me out anymore, now it’s just a typical Tuesday.”
The other man barks out a laugh, “Preaching to the choir. Anyway, after the residual part of the limb is healed, it could still be swollen - that’s not a bad thing, by the way. So we gotta get the swelling down to fit it into a prosthetic.”
“If you’re gonna build it, then can’t you just build it around what it already is?”
“I could, but you’d be in pain, buddy. We gotta get the swelling down and to do that, Bruce is gonna give you what’s called a compression stocking. Wear that and in a few weeks’ time, you oughta be eligible for a fitting.”
“You mean I can have one in less than a month?” Peter asks, eyes widening.
“If we play our cards right. So, you in? Can I give the okay to Bruce?”
“Yes, oh my God, yes,” the tyke is practically bouncing in his seat at this point, “How long’s it gonna take to make one? I can help -”
“Ah, ‘spider-baby’, if you don’t know me by now…” the mechanic trails off as he walks to a closet on the other side of the lab, pulling out a couple of items that Peter can’t make out except for the fact that they're metal.
Tony gently sets them on the table in front of them, spreading out the two pieces to get a closer look.
The first piece is a large rectangle of some kind of metal. Peter picks it up to examine it and sees that it’s flexible, his best guess being this is what the actual arm will be made of.
The second piece is a silver hand. Honestly, it looks a tad creepy but the young man hopes it’ll look better once it’s attached. The hand has the typical five fingers, all bendable including the thumb.
Man, have I missed having a second thumb.
He picks up the hand, concentrates on the mechanism, the fingers, the feel of the material.
“I like it,” he finally says.
“I know it’s not much right now -” Tony says.
“But it’s gonna be amazing later, I know it. I can’t wait for the end result.” Peter walks around the table and surprises his father figure with a hug, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” the scientist says with a chuckle, “We’ve barely covered the surface -”
“You’re literally making me an arm, that’s the best thing in the world.” Peter gazes at his mentor, “Can I help? I mean, I don’t know what I can do but -”
“Of course you can.” Tony soothingly rubs his kid’s shoulder, “But let’s finish this thing first, this is crucial.”
“But I can still drive though.”
“Not very well, you can’t. How can you be expected to drive and reach the windshield wipers, huh?”
“I’ve gotten pretty good at using my knee -”
“That’s even worse. Nope, you’re getting this, no excuses.”
Peter fondly rolls his eyes, settling back onto the stool across from the older man, “What are all these buttons?”
“Everything you need to drive like you know what you’re doing.” Before Tony can elaborate, he puts in the final screws, connecting the knob to the steering wheel, “Ta-da!”
The older man holds up the car part, showing off the spinner knob that’s now on the left side of the wheel, “Go on, get a feel for it, what do you think?”
Peter gently grips the new part, the material unexpectedly comfortable in his hand.
“It’s vinyl,” Tony says, “It’s supposed to not feel so rough. It doesn’t, does it -?”
“No, it’s great,” his protege says, staring at this new mechanism with interest. To the left of that is a keypad with unknown symbols on each one, “So these control the rest of the car?”
“Yep. This one here,” the older genius points to the first one he sees, “Controls your front windshield wipers and the one next to it is for the back. Headlights, horn, your blinkers, it’s all there.”
“Thank you.” Peter gives him an amused look, “And okay, maybe I do need this.”
“Told ya,” the billionaire says with a smug grin, “Now, what’s that phrase called? ‘Father knows best’?”
“Oh my God, fine, ‘you know best’,” the spiderling says, laughing despite himself.
Father knows best.
A phrase that’s not true.
But absolutely true at the same time.
-
Tony has no idea what startles him awake.
Was it the weird dream he had? The one where he put on the gauntlet instead of the kid?
He’s had that one a lot lately, since Peter was first taken to medbay, in fact.
The man often wonders - both asleep and off - about what would’ve happened if he was the solution to the universe instead of a 21-year-old whose youth and innocence should be savored, for at least a little bit longer.
But Pepper has told him time and time again that the “what if” game is a useless one to play.
Yeah, tell that to my brain, then.
It’s not until he hears his AI call out for probably the second or third time, judging by the slight annoyance in her voice, “Boss, Peter Parker is in distress.”
Oh, that’s it.
He looks at the other side of the bed and frowns at seeing it empty, confused as to why Pepper isn’t asleep next to him.
Tony can’t help the grunts that escape him as he sits up, his knee joints cracking when his bare feet put pressure on the carpeted floor. “Is he okay?” he asks, keeping his focus on the kid as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.
“Physically yes, but it sounds like he’s had a nightmare.” FRIDAY pauses for a few seconds before she concludes, “Again.”
The billionaire sighs in despair, slowly getting up and walking towards his kid’s bedroom. He can only guess what the dream was about this time.
But he has a hunch.
This is by no means the first nightmare Peter has had. Before the snap, Tony remembers how often he’s had to wake him up, whether it be from regular bad dreams or worse, night terrors.
He wasn’t expecting that to change. If anything, he prepared himself for the worst, which obviously turned out to be the right move.
But something about this round of healing is more…serious, for lack of a better term. Delicate even, and he knows it’s because of the “elephant in the room” that everyone refuses to say.
And that’s what makes all of this much harder to deal with.
As Tony walks down the hall, he catches unexpected but familiar voices coming from the bedroom.
He peeks his head into the room, eyebrows raising at the mild surprise that’s before him.
Peter is in his bed, of course, covers pushed away from him. He probably woke up in a sweat, the hero thinks.
However, Pepper is kneeling next to him, telling him soft words that her fiance can’t decipher, rubbing the young adult’s knee in comfort.
Huh.
They’re closer than I thought.
Tony knew his two loved ones became closer after the snap, especially since Pepper took him in, but he’s never seen the closeness in action like this.
It’s nice.
A burst of warmth fills the man’s chest while he looks on, a sort of softness that causes goosebumps to prickle along his arms.
Wait, if Pepper’s already got this, then why did FRI still wake me up?
No sooner than he had that thought, his protege looks up, “Mr. Stark?”
Pepper turns toward the doorway, smiling at her husband-to-be, “Sorry, honey, I tried not to wake you -”
“No, I’m glad I’m up,” Tony says, smiling as he walks into the room, “‘Cuz I’m having FRIDAY keep this footage for all of eternity.”
“Not with ‘egg on my face’, you’re not,” Peter says, face flushing as he curls his knees to his chest.
“Oh yes, I am,” his mentor says, “Especially since there’s nothing you could’ve done that’s worthy of having ‘egg on your face’, to begin with.”
“If nothing’s on my face, then why do I feel so stupid?”
“Peter, sweetie,” Pepper says, “Remember what I told you -”
“I know,” the spiderling groans, “I know, it’s just, it’s fine. It’s over now so it’s fine. Sorry I woke you up.” He pulls the covers back over himself, turning on his stomach with his head facing from the other two adults while being mindful of the compression bandage around his limb.
Both parental figures look at each other in confusion, neither knowing what to say next or how to diffuse the situation.
And of course this is the night May is working the overnight shift.
Might as well stick with what I know.
Tony walks to the bed, lightly tapping Pepper so he can scoot by her, and climbs in next to his kid, getting under the covers himself.
“You don’t have to stay,” Peter drawls, “I’m an actual adult now.”
“Since when does that matter?” Pepper asks, leaning forward onto the bed and now rubbing her fiance’s leg, “Nightmares are for ‘all ages.’”
“And what if I want to stay?” Tony asks, rubbing the tyke’s back, “You wouldn’t actually kick me out, would you?”
The young man sighs in despair, “Fine, but you’re not exactly gonna be comfortable.”
“I’ll manage.” The mechanic signals to his other half that he has this handled - at least, he thinks he does. With a loving kiss goodnight to her fiance and kid, Pepper leaves the room, hesitating at the doorway before she’s out of sight.
“Wanna talk about it?” Tony asks, “I don’t know about you, but I’m not the least bit tired.”
“What if I am?”
“Oh, really?” the man says disbelievingly, “Since when were you able to sleep right after a night like this?”
Peter shrugs, “Since I became an adult and I’m supposed to.”
“That’s the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard, and that’s coming from someone who yelled at Strange the other day.”
“Really?” The intern carefully turns to lay on his back, looking up at the older man, “About what, what did he do?”
“That,” Tony points at the residual limb off of the young hero’s shoulder, “And this,” he then gestures to the boy as a whole, referring to the current situation.
“But it’s not his fault, it was supposed to happen -”
“Bullshit, if that was the only way, why didn’t he just do it, then? He has that wizard power shit, that would’ve helped him out -”
“But the gauntlet fell into my hands.” Peter sits up fully, scooting closer to his father figure, “It was set up perfectly, I had to do it.”
“You didn’t have to do anything,” Tony says, voice softening, “The state of the universe shouldn’t’ve been put on your shoulders.”
“But it did,” his protege says, copying the same tone, “And we can’t change it now. There’s no point in being mad at Doctor Strange for something we can’t take back. Stop feeling so guilty.”
“What?” Tony looks up, both confused at the statement and frustrated that his kid’s calling him out on it.
Stop getting in my head here, kid.
“You’re not as good of an actor as you think you are. You feel guilty over everything that’s happened but you don’t need to be.”
“It should’ve been me -”
“But it wasn’t.” Peter takes a deep breath, keeping the frustration out of his tone, “I was the ‘chosen one’, all of this was on me. I know what it cost me,” he gestures to his right side, “But I had to do it for the greater good.”
“Did Strange feed you that shit -”
“No,” the web-slinger says, playfully rolling his eyes, “I fed it to myself, whatever the fuck that means.”
Tony snorts at that, wrapping an arm around the tyke’s shoulders, “Well, I’m still gonna be bitter at that damn wizard for the rest of time…even if you did do the right thing.”
Peter settles more into the older man’s side, sighing contently at the embrace, “I mean, he was always an ass so that’s valid.”
The two heroes chuckle at that, with Iron Man kissing the top of his ward’s head, “I dread the day you’re too old for this,” he says.
“I’m never too old for this.” Peter wraps his arm around the other’s torso, “When I’m seventy, I expect your hundred-year-old ass to be doing this and not bothering to put dentures back in your teeth.”
“Like I’m gonna be using them anyway.” Tony says with a snort.
“True, you’re gonna have those high-tech ones that lights up to freak everyone out.” His kid snuggles into him even more, “This is perfect,” he says, sighing in relief, “I missed this so much.”
Tony can feel his heart physically shatter, “I’m not going anywhere. Never again.” He nudges the other genius, repeating his question from earlier, “Wanna talk about it?”
The spiderling shakes his head, “I actually feel a lot better now. You always know how to calm me down.”
“We’re just having a conversation.”
“Exactly -” the young man cuts himself off with a yawn, using his father figure’s shoulder as his personal pillow, “G’night.”
Tony snickers as he gently eases his kid back onto his real pillow, pulling the covers to the other’s chin, “Goodnight, kiddo.” He starts to get out of bed but a hand stops him.
“I was lying before, please don’t leave.”
The older man releases a minute snicker before settling back in, head resting atop the other pillow and arm wrapped around the younger man’s back to avoid the shrinking sock.
Just like old times.
“There’s also no such thing as being too old for this,” Tony says, tightening his grip on his kid, “So none of this ‘I’m an adult now’ business.”
“Being an adult is for losers anyway.” Peter rests his head on the other’s chest, the sound of his mentor’s heartbeat slowly soothing him to sleep, “Thank you” is the last thing he says before succumbing to sleep entirely.
Again, Tony softly kisses the top of his spider-boy’s head, relaxing fully as he starts ruffling his hair.
“Anytime.”
-
“Kiddo, talk to me, how does it feel?”
Finally, after several weeks of having to shrink the residual limb, Peter is able to to get that metal arm fitted. Of course, once he got the shape, Tony had to form it into an actual bionic arm.
But now it’s finished, and for the first time in four months, Spider-Man has a right arm.
“Um…weird,” he answers. His legs continuously swing back and forth in anticipation as he sits on top of the work table, gazing at this silver contraption in awe, “So the muscles from my other shoulder are supposed to move this?”
“Yup, it’s gonna take some practice but you’ll get the hang of it in no time,” Tony says with a proud smile, “And these straps here,” he gestures to said items that wrap around the respective shoulder, “Help support the weight of this thing, which I don’t think you’ll have a problem with. But none of this ‘macho’ crap, how does it feel, be honest.”
“Uh, pretty good other than it pinches a little bit but I guess that’s normal.”
“It is,” the older man starts inspecting the arm for about the hundredth time since his kid put it on, moving the fingers, observing the material, making sure everything is absolutely perfect. “It’s gonna be like that until your body gets to it, unfortunately.”
“Eh, I’ll manage. This is so cool, though,” the young hero stares long and hard at the metal fingers, flexing his limb and willing it to move.
“Don’t explode over there,” Tony says jokingly, “Seriously, take it slow. Think about what you want it to do, let your muscles reflect that.”
At the touch of his hero’s hand on his other shoulder, the young genius relaxes, the only thing on his mind is moving that hand.
He hears a few clicks as the silver index finger slowly moves back and forth, increasing in speed the more excited its owner gets.
“Holy fuck, this is amazing!” Peter exclaims, giving his father figure a hug with his working hand, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, oh my God thank you!”
Tony simply laughs in response, just as happy that it’s working, “No sweat, kid, I’m just glad I can take ‘make bionic arm’ off of my bucket list.”
“You’ve made like hundreds of them for your Iron Man suits,” Peter says, letting go of him and putting his gaze back on the bionic arm.
“Those don’t count, those are like fancy gloves. This, however, was a whole new territory, we made an actual arm.”
“The horror,” the intern quips, “For real, though, this is incredible. Once I get the hang of this, I might finally work up the courage to be Spider-Man again.”
“Hey, Queens will still be there, whenever you decide to go back. There is one more surprise I still haven’t showed you.”
“Mr. Stark, no offense, but I don’t think you can top this.”
“You’ll be the judge of that.” Tony points at the arm, “You see a small button on the back of your bicep?”
Peter tilts his right shoulder forward ever so slightly, nodding his head when he sees a small square indented into the metal, “Yeah?”
“Press it.”
The web-slinger obliges and in a few seconds, the arm changes color.
To the same as his skin color, in fact.
The young man’s jaw drops to the floor, utterly speechless as his mentor starts explaining, “I figured this thing does kinda stick out like a sore thumb so if you’re out somewhere and you get insecure even though you don’t need to be insecure -”
“You really thought about this?”
“Oh yeah,” Tony’s voice unexpectedly turns solemn, “I know all of this has been hard on you, you’ve been a real champ, you know that?”
“I don’t feel like a champ -”
“But you are. And you deserve the best of the best, don’t you dare start saying you don’t or I’ll kick your ass myself.”
Peter snorts at the empty threat, “Mr. Stark -”
“Hey, I can say that now, you’re an adult."
“I’d like to know what this thing does in a fight.” The young adult manages to hold up the arm slightly off of his thigh, gripping his fingers in a loose fist.
“Oh yeah? Why don’tcha press the button again?”
The intern’s eyes narrow in puzzlement. He reaches around his bicep and presses the button once more. Now the arm is covered in red, blue, and gold.
Just like his Iron Spider suit.
“Are you trying to make me cry?” Peter says, “‘Cuz it’s almost working, damn it. How’d you find time and everything to do this?”
“Pete, I’m retired, what the fuck else am I gonna do, help plan the wedding?”
“Heh, imagine if you made an Iron Man themed wedding -”
“Why else do you think Pepper won’t let me near the wedding planning? So,” Tony tilts his head towards the arm, “Do you like it?”
“I love it, this is amazing! I could just wear this in public and people’ll think it’s awesome cosplay.”
“So,” the billionaire says, smiling cheekily, “You think that’s the best it’s gonna get?”
“Yeah - wait, what?” Peter looks up at his father figure, “Don’t tell me you planned something else.”
“Wellllll -”
“Mr. Stark -”
“Press it one more time.”
“Holy shit,” the young hero does as told, openly gasping at the colors the arm changes to.
Black, white, gray, and purple.
The colors of the asexual flag…the colors of his suit for when he’s feeling “extra ace” while on patrol.
“You remembered,” Peter whispers, gawking at the best damn color combination to ever exist. This does bring tears to his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall, not on his brand new arm that’s also ace.
“‘Course I did,” his mentor says matter-of-factly, “Why would I ever forget something like that?”
“I mean I know you wouldn’t but it’s also been…a lot lately and -”
“And nothing. You think I’ve forgotten the day you came out to me?”
“I felt like I was gonna piss myself, I was so scared, that’s all I remember.”
“Do you remember what we did afterwards?”
A smile breaks out across Peter’s face, “We installed ace colors into my suit.”
“So I figured,” Tony says, rubbing his kid’s knee in comfort, “That if you go out in all your ace glory - whenever that’ll be - the red and blue might clash with everything else.”
Aaaaaand I’m crying.
Peter sniffles, wiping his nose with his other hand, as his gaze lands back on the bionic arm, “This is the best damn thing I’ve ever seen.” He starts stroking it, feeling the metal against his skin, the colors that represent him shining brightly against the lights in the lab.
Tony continues staring proudly at his kid, this kid who he’s long since come to care about like a son.
He is his son, damn it, in every sense of the word.
And as his pseudo-dad, it is his responsibility to give his kid what he needs…with a dash of “extra ace” thrown in.
“You did all you did - saving the world - for the ‘greater good’, you said,” Tony says, locking eyes with his protege, “But you deserve something good too.”
The tears keep coming, so much so that Peter stops fighting it and lays his head against the other’s shoulder, “You’re the best,” he mutters, voice raspy, “I love you.”
“I love you,” Tony says, wrapping his arms around him in a hug, kissing the top of his head, “More than you know.”
“Forget the red and blue, I’m wearing this wherever I go.”
“Good thing the colors don’t fade.”
They stay like that for the next several seconds, momentarily forgetting the horrors of the world still recovering from what was and the uncertainty of what will be.
Peter may need to adjust once again but he’s here, he’s here and he conquered something that no one in their wildest dreams could ever imagine.
Despite everything, he got his “Mr. Stark” back.
And he’s here to stay.
Both of them are here to stay.
Take that, Thanos.