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Tony’s eyes snap open. He lays still in his bed and listens to the mysterious sound coming from somewhere in his room.
He thinks maybe the kid has let another stray or hurt animal into his house, flashes back to that horrible night in New York City when Tony still lived in the penthouse, and Peter bought home a bat he’d named Buttons to nurse back to health. Except Buttons hadn’t been sick and he’d wreaked havoc flying around in his home until they got it safely back outside.
Tony takes a deep breath, ready to face whatever terror Peter has let loose, but when he sits up and looks over the side of his bed, he sees that the terror is Peter. The kid was army-crawling across Tony’s bedroom floor.
“Peter, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Shhh, Mr. Stark, I’m trying not to wake you up.”
“Oh,” says Tony. “Good job.”
His first clue that something isn’t right is the way that Peter doesn’t say anything back. He keeps crawling across his floor, as if Tony were still sleeping and hadn’t just talked to him. The second clue is Peter stopping, and watching with a grin, the small beam of light coming through the windows, in from the outside lights. The third is a mess of brownie crumbs Tony spots on the collar of his shirt.
“Oh shit,” says Tony. “You’re high.”
“Actually I’m verrrry low to the ground right now.”
“The brownies on the kitchen table. You ate some.”
“They were so good, so I ate them all.”
Tony closes his eyes and wishes he were back to sleep, before the absurdity of the situation hits him like a bus and he laughs. Peter ignores him and keeps inching towards the nightstand while Tony continues to watch to see where he’s going and what he plans on doing once he gets there.
With a slight smirk, Tony watches Peter stand on his wobbly knees and search the nightstand until he finds Tony’s wallet. He fumbles it around, but he finally gains enough control over his motor ability to open it up and take one of Tony’s credit cards.
“Hey,” says Tony. “Get your spider paws off my credit card.”
Peter turns his head, his brown and wide eyes glossy and pathetic. “But. I need money.”
“For what?”
“Eating all those brownies made me so hungry,” says Peter. “Just gonna order a quick snack.”
“Oh yeah?” asks Tony, thinking a midnight snack doesn’t sound so bad, especially with Pepper away on business and Morgan staying the night at her friends and unable to comment about him cheating on his heart healthy diet he was supposed to be following. “What were you thinking?”
“Chicken curry and a milkshake.”
“Absolutely not,” Tony vetoes right away. Apparently high Peter craves worse food combinations than Pepper when she had been pregnant with Morgan. “How about a shake and some burgers with fries.”
“Cheese fries.”
“Perfect.”
He unplugs his cellphone from the charger and opens up the food delivery app that Peter’s responsible for downloading. He browses until he finds a burger joint, clicks it, only to look up to see Peter looking at him with a destressed expression.
“You still want curry.”
Peter nods. “Please, Mr. Stark.”
“I’m gonna have to order from two separate places,” says Tony, before realizing he’s trying to use logic with a teenager who’s on a completely different plane on existence. He shakes his head, and smiles. “Fine. Two different places it is.”
“Thanks,” says Peter. Before Tony can stop him, he’s letting himself fall backward on the floor, as if there’s something soft to catch him. When Peter’s back hits the floor, he lets out a small oof, but the pain on his face is quickly erased by a goofy smile. “I love you, boss man.”
“You love anybody who feeds you.”
“Know what else I love?” asks Peter, as he accepts Tony’s hand up. Once Peter’s standing, and Tony just barely considers it as standing, he’s so wobbly Tony has to steady him by holding onto both his arms. “Brownies. I love brownies so much.”
“Yep, so do I,” says Tony. “And tonight you’ve had enough for the both of us.”
“Aww.” Without warning, Peter burrows his head into Tony’s chest and throws his arm around the man. “Hug me.”
“Jesus Christ,” says Tony, slowly patting him on the back. “You’re a clingy high. Like a Koala bear.”
“I love bears.”
“Yeah, yeah I know, you love all animals, just don’t bring one home.”
Tony can see it. The day he comes home from the grocery store and Peter has a fully-grown bear in the front yard, probably teaching it how to fetch a giant stick.
“But I want one.”
“Let’s go downstairs,” says Tony, changing the subject. Conversations that involve something more than Peter listening all the things and people he loves just doesn’t look probable.
Not that Tony’s complaining. He wants to be recording, knows he should be recording, for May’s benefit. Knows she’s gonna be kicking herself for missing this.
When they get to the staircase, Peter stops and stares like he doesn’t know what to do. It takes a lot to coax him down. It takes Tony sitting on the steps, physically prying Peter’s foot to the next step, while he whines and cries about the possibility of tumbling down the stairs and breaking his spider sense.
“Peter,” says Tony, under his breath. “You can’t break your spidey senses.”
“You don’t know.”
Tony pulls harder on his foot. “I do know. Just come downstairs!”
Peter glares at him, and Tony releases his foot, deciding he’s going about this the wrong way.
“If you don’t come downstairs, you won’t get your curry or your milkshake.”
It takes fifteen minutes, but eventually, when a knock on the door signifies their food has arrived, Peter very carefully climbs down the remaining stairs.
Tony watches in horror as his spider-child demolishes curry, a cheeseburger, a whole basket sized order of cheese fries and a supersized milkshake. “You could make millions in an eating contest, Pete.”
Peter’s eyes are hazy, and Tony knows he can’t hear him, that he’s in some other land and that he’s tired, now that his munchies are satisfied.
“Ok, let’s get you into bed.”
“No more stairs,” says Peter.
“Okay,” agrees Tony, easily, not wanting to go through all that drama a second time. “You can sleep on the couch.”
The trip to the couch is easier than the one to the kitchen. There’re no tears, and the goofy smile is plastered across Peter’s face as Tony throws a blanket on top of him.
“Sleep tight, kid.”
“Mmhmm,” says Peter, still grinning, but with his eyes closed. “Love you, Mr. Stark.”
“I love you, too.”
He gives his hair a ruffle, then shuts out the lights. Before climbing back into bed, he sends a quick text to May, letting her know exactly how Peter’s night had gone. His phone buzzes with a string of laughing emojis, and as he drifts off, he thinks this is probably one of the better nights, at least as far as nights without Pepper and Morgan go.