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Peter had always been an affectionate boy. When his biological parents were still alive, he was told they were basically inseparable. And when Tony adopted him, they were like two peas in a pod.
Of course, Peter's earliest memories were only filled with Tony since he was adopted at such a young age, but he had no doubt that he loved his biological parents the same.
So showing affection came as second nature to him. He only had one parent and no siblings, and all of his aunts and uncles showered him with love constantly, it was normal for Peter to never think about what he was calling his father was wrong.
But that all changed when Flash had to open his mouth.
His day was starting out well too. Well...sort of. He had a field trip to look forward to (that had also been the only topic of MJ's interest this past week) and his father had promised that morning that they could spend some time together after school. When he arrived on campus, all of the sophomore students were lined up by the school bus waiting for everyone to check in.
Peter did what he needed to do and spotted Ned and MJ near the bench by the grass. He waved over to them and they immediately lightened up,
"Hey, Peter! You're not late this time!" Ned laughed as he greeted them with their secret handshake.
"I didn't want to lose my life," Peter chuckled as he glanced at MJ. She would have his head if he was late for this field trip.
"You're smart," She nodded at him.
Just then—out of nowhere, Peter had felt an awful bubble in his stomach. It was one of those where it felt heavy and uncomfortable, but it went as quickly as it came.
He gave them both a tense smile as he tried to ignore the pit in his stomach, "You guys wanna start lining up near the bus?"
"Sure," MJ said quickly, leading with no hesitation. Ned glanced over at Peter with a shrug before following the girl.
As Peter started walking, he held his stomach in worry. He just hoped that he wasn't sick again. A few months ago he had figured out that he wasn't completely immune to illnesses since he got a spider bite that had affected him pretty severely. Thankfully, this time it wasn't radioactive...just venomous.
Now his whole body was itchy just thinking about another potential spider bite. Scratching his arm vigorously, he stood in line behind Ned to board the bus.
A few seconds passed before he was hit with a wave of nausea that almost made him gag. Peter scrunched his nose and closed his eyes. This could not be happening today. MJ had to have a good time on this trip and Tony had a brunch date with some woman he'd been fraternizing with lately. He couldn't bother them.
Even though this woman was not to Peter's liking (he personally thought his father should give him and Pepper another try), he didn't want to ruin something that was important for the two of them. Besides, MJ rarely finds school things interesting and this was her chance to have fun with her friends.
The line moved up and Peter took slow steps up the bus stairs and collapsed next to Ned in the front seat. He desperately needed some water.
MJ raised an eyebrow, "You okay? You're looking pale now—well, more than you usually do."
Peter shook his head and stood up straight, "No, yeah I'm fine. I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
The girl side eyed him and hummed, "If you ever need water I have some in my bag," She motioned to the witch printed tote bag by her side. It was so MJ.
Ned wiggled between the two of them and pulled something out of his fanny pack. While he was doing that, Peter tried to hold in a smile. He was pretty sure he saw that hanging in Mrs. Leeds' closet the last time he came over. Something about imagining his best friend begging his mom to use her bag was amusing.
"I've got cold medicine if you need it," Ned said, holding up a small box of pills. Peter shook his head again,
"I'm not sick. I told you, I'm fine," He said, meeting both of his friend's eyes before they flickered down to MJ's tote bag, "Actually...I could use some water."
MJ nodded in approval before pulling out her hydroflask, "It's important to stay hydrated, especially if you didn't get a lot of sleep. Keep it for the rest of the day," She said before she reached over Ned and shoved it in the brunet's hand.
"Thanks, MJ," Peter responded appreciatively before slowly sipping on the cold water. It did help clear his nausea for a bit and he breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. Hopefully if he kept drinking the water, then his nausea would go away until he got home.
So that's what he kept doing the whole bus ride to MoMA, taking slow sips of water to quell the nausea for a few minutes at a time.
The constant jostling of the bus finally came to a stop in front of the museum which brought along the excited voices of his classmates.
Mr. Harrington came to the front of the bus and began giving instructions, "Guys, calm down while I speak. I need all of you to line up at the front so I can take attendance. And I want to make it explicitly clear that no one is to leave the group at any time unless given permission," He gave a pointed look at Peter which subconsciously made him duck his head.
"The guide will explain more when we get started. So let's get going," He clapped his hands once before jogging out of the bus with the other students following. Once the isle was clear, Peter groggily stood up and exited the bus.
Thankfully it was cold today, so the cool air was welcomed as a small breeze blew on his forehead. It distracted him a bit from feeling dizzy from the drive.
When he saw Ned look at him with furrowed eyebrows, Peter immediately stood up straight and faked a smile, "So what are you most excited to see?"
His best friend shrugged, "I don't know. I'm not a huge fan of modern art."
Peter nodded in understanding and turned to MJ, "What about you?"
The girl responded with no hesitation, "The Afro-American Abstraction. It's rare to see black artists celebrated for their work so I'm looking forward to admiring it."
Peter smiled at her enthusiasm before Mr. Harrington started to wave them over. The trio joined the rest of their classmates inside the lobby of the museum and was introduced to their guide.
They were split up into groups with different chaperones; some ended up with an employee and others with a teacher from Midtown. Thankfully, Peter, Ned, and MJ all stayed in a group together, but there was a downside.
Flash and two of his friends were also put in the same group as them. Peter frowned as the three made their way over to their group which was led by Mr. Harrington.
Upon seeing Peter and his friends, the boy leaned his head back and groaned dramatically, "Mr. Harrington, can we please be put in another group?"
"Why? These three are great," The teacher replied with a hand on Peter's head before shaking it playfully. Any other day, the brunet wouldn't have minded, but unfortunately it activated his nausea again.
Peter blanched and pulled away subtlety before taking another sip of the water. Flash grimaced, "Tch, whatever," The group started walking towards the first exhibit, "By the way Parker, you look like shit."
Flash and his friends started laughing silently as they walked away and Peter just sighed. Dealing with Flash was nothing new, he did it nearly everyday and it's worked for his first two years in high school so far. He learned that ignoring it was the best route to go, but it didn't mean that his words still didn't hurt.
Ned glared at the other boys before putting a hand on Peter's back, "Don't listen to him, Peter. They're all bullies."
Peter whispered, "I know."
In this moment he just wished he had his father. He knew that he would see him at the end of the day, but everything was already starting to go to shit. If being nauseous wasn't enough, being in a group with Flash was already starting to take a toll on him.
MJ looped an arm through his, "Don't let him and his dumb friends ruin our trip. Let's enjoy this, okay?"
Peter nodded with a small smile, "Yeah."
And MJ was right—for the most part. The first hour of the museum was fine until their snack break hit. It was already 10:30 in the morning and everyone had gone back down to the lobby for a bite to eat.
Peter hadn't eaten anything yet and he loosely thought that maybe he was nauseous because there was nothing in his stomach. It would make sense too, he couldn't pinpoint a spider bite anywhere on his body.
So he brought himself to eat a banana that was provided by the school and began languidly chewing on it. Ned tilted his head in confusion, "That's all you want to eat?"
Peter shrugged, "I don't want to make myself too full for lunch."
His best friend narrowed his eyes, "Dude, you could eat a whole buffet's worth of food and you still wouldn't be full. What's going on?"
Glancing around and making sure that MJ didn't hear (just because she was a worrywart and would probably suggest telling a teacher), he leaned in and whispered in Ned's ear, "I-I...I'm not feeling so good today."
"Peter! You should tell someone!" Ned whispered back in a panic.
The brunet sat back in defeat, "I did tell someone. I told you!"
Ned was about to open his mouth before Mr. Harrington started rounding up the group again. Peter held his head in his hands and breathed slowly.
He was starting to think that eating the banana was a bad decision. Thankfully, Ned helped him stand up before MJ or Mr. Harrington noticed anything suspicious.
"Ned, Peter, MJ...Flash and those two..." Mr. Harrington mumbled a headcount to himself before motioning for them to follow again, "Let's go guys! We gotta hit everything before lunch."
Peter hiccuped and felt his stomach jump. No no no, this could not be happening right now.
"Peter? Come on," Ned urged, dragging him by the arm to the staircase.
Oh god, the staircase.
He didn't know if he would make it out alive by the end of this trip. With each step, Peter felt his mouth building up with more and more saliva before he had to physically hold back his vomit.
When they made it to the third floor, Peter booked it to the restrooms.
"Hey, Peter! What did I say about leaving the group—and he's gone," Mr. Harrington said with an expression of disbelief, but Peter didn't care. All he wanted was to throw up in privacy.
When he got to the bathroom, he slammed the door open and immediately disposed of everything that was in his stomach. It was mostly water, but chunks of banana were swimming in there too.
Peter's head felt like it was spinning and the smell of it wasn't making it any better. After leaning his head against the stall wall and closing his eyes, he nearly started crying.
The nausea wouldn't automatically disappear for the rest of the day and he didn't know how much more walking around he could take. After a few beats of silence, he heard a bunch of pairs of feet making their way into the bathroom.
Mr. Harrington was standing there with the other students and before he could blink, the teacher was kneeling by his side, "Oh, Peter what happened?"
"I'm not feeling well," Peter burped a little before another wave of nausea hit him. He immediately leaned over the toilet bowl again and expelled what was left in his stomach.
Flash squeaked, "Ew, Mr. Harrington this is really gross. I don't want to see Parker's vomit. Can we wait outside?"
"No, I need to see all of my students here at the same time. I don't need anyone else walking off," Mr. Harrington chided before digging in his pocket for his phone, "Peter, is there anyone I can call to pick you up?"
"Y-Yeah," Peter whispered as a tear escaped his eye. He loved his teacher, but he had just wished that Flash and his friends weren't standing there and whispering about him.
Ignoring them for now, Peter told his teacher the number to call. When the call went through, Mr. Harrington handed the phone to him.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"It's Peter," The boy sobbed, bringing his knees to his chest for some kind of comfort. Hearing his dad's voice was already making him feel a whole lot better.
"Pete, what's going on? What happened to your phone? Are you okay?" Tony asked rapidly. Peter immediately felt bad because he could hear the chatter and clinking of plates and utensils in the background. He had momentarily forgotten that he was having brunch with that woman.
"I'm not feeling well and—and I threw up at the museum," Peter mumbled into the phone, trying his hardest to keep his voice level, but it was hard with his teacher and three of his bullies staring at him.
He could hear Ned and MJ somewhere in the bathroom too, but he couldn't see where they were.
"Okay sweetheart. Oh geez," Tony sighed and paused before continuing, "Alright I'm coming to get you now. You're at MoMA?"
"Mm hm," Peter nodded. He could hear the reluctance in his father's voice, "Daddy you don't have to come get me, I-I'll just call Happy or Pepper."
After that one sentence, Flash and his friends started bursting out laughing. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at them with confusion; they were making him feel insecure all of a sudden.
Thankfully, Mr. Harrington shut them up so he could hear his father's response.
"No, I'm the parent and I'm coming to get you. I'm not far from the museum, I'll be there in 15, okay? I love you and hang tight."
"Love you too, Daddy," Peter whispered and hung up the phone. Flash started cackling again and Peter side-eyed him with worry. They were definitely laughing at him now.
He gave the phone back to his teacher, "My dad will be here in 15 minutes he said."
"Good. How about we hang out in the lobby until then?" Mr. Harrington nodded before helping Peter up to his feet. In doing so, he accidentally made eye contact with Flash and saw the boy's shit-eating grin.
What was so funny to them? Watching him throw up or watching him call his father? He couldn't pinpoint what it was, but it was starting to annoy him.
As his teacher led him out of the restroom, he glared at the three boys before seeing Ned and MJ near the entrance. They immediately started walking next to him,
"Are you feeling better?" MJ asked, holding his hand thoughtfully.
"Yeah, dude are you okay?" Ned chimed in with wide eyes. He squeezed her hand back and gave them a small smile,
"Not really. I'm going to go home early."
There was a flash of disappointment in MJ's eyes before she nodded in understanding, "We never got to see the Afro-American Abstraction exhibit. Fourth floor, you almost made it," She said with a quick awkward smile of her own.
"I'm sorry, MJ," He whispered sincerely.
They stepped into the elevator and Ned helpfully pressed the lobby button before their teacher started rushing the other boys. While they were doing that, MJ nudged him playfully,
"If you're really sorry then you'll get better soon."
Peter nodded, "I'll try."
He swallowed down another bubble of bile, concentrating on the fact that his father was coming. It was going to be okay. In about 40 minutes he will be in his bed and doing his best to get better.
Also...he didn't want to throw up all over his teacher and his friends.
There was silence in the elevator before Flash started giggling like a schoolgirl, "Your Daddy coming soon, Peter?" He got out before him and his friends started laughing.
MJ narrowed her eyes, "Leave him alone. Obviously he isn't feeling well."
"Aw, maybe the baby needs some medicine in a bottle," Flash fake pouted.
Mr. Harrington rolled his eyes, "Enough, Flash. Midtown has a strict no bullying policy, I don't want to hear this again."
Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion once more before realizing that Flash was—of course— making fun of him for his conversation with his father. It made sense, he could probably count the number of people on one hand that still called their parents Mommy and Daddy.
Now he was starting to feel self conscious...
Peter ducked his head for the rest of the elevator ride and breathed out a sigh of relief when there was an open bench in the lobby. He desperately needed to sit down before he hurled all over the pristine marble tiles.
Ned and MJ sat down beside him, not saying a word and for once, Peter welcomed the silence. It was nice to know they were comforting him without wanting to disturb him.
For the next ten minutes or so, Peter listened to the rain falling outside and watched the people of New York bustling around the sidewalk. Eventually, he saw a car skid up to the curb and park illegally before someone came out.
He immediately knew it was Tony.
Everyone milling around the lobby turned their heads toward the figure going through the doors. The employees didn't even ask for his ticket before letting him through. He heard Flash gasp next to him too.
Even though he was raised by this man, it never seized to amaze him to see how important his father actually was.
He walked over in true Tony Stark fashion; neatly tailored suit, immaculate facial hair, and his famous shades perched on his nose.
Peter's lip wobbled when he realized that he was finally safe now. He could go home.
Tony's eyes softened at Peter and he pulled him up from the bench to give him a big hug, "Hey, Bambi. How are you feeling?"
Peter latched onto his father, not intending to let him go anytime soon, "I don't feel good," He said, his whole composure slipping as he felt tears welling up in his eyes.
"I know. Let's get you home, sweetheart." Tony pulled away and rubbed Peter's arms with a frown, "You're freezing."
Peter just shivered in response.
Tony clicked his tongue and dragged Peter with him towards the doors. He called out to no one in particular, "Are these floors heated? You should get some heated floors!"
"Dad!" Peter whispered in embarrassment when everyone looked over in their direction.
He caught Ned and MJ's eyes over his shoulder and gave them a small wave goodbye. They smiled and put their two hands together to make a heart, making Peter smile in return.
Tony gave him a weird look before replying, "What? It's freezing in here and this marble isn't making it any better."
"Stop yelling at random people, they don't control the temperature of the floors," Peter groaned, leaning into his father a lot more when another wave of nausea hit him. He swallowed harshly to hold it down until he got home.
"Nauseous?"
Peter nodded.
Tony immediately started taking off his suit jacket, "Alright, wear this. It's cold outside and shivering will trigger your nausea even more."
Peter accepted the jacket and put his arms in the holes. It was way too big on him and he was sure he looked ridiculous, but it was warm from his father's body heat and it smelled like him too.
He pulled it a little tighter to himself.
They made their way outside and Tony made sure to open the back door for Peter as quickly as possible so they wouldn't get soaked from the rain. But Peter wasn't so happy when he realized he wouldn't be sitting in the passenger seat.
When he sat down in the back, he was met with the filthy stench of vanilla perfume filling the car and some random blonde woman in the front. Peter scrunched his nose in displeasure.
She met his eyes in the rear view mirror but didn't say anything to him.
Weird.
Tony finally got into the front seat and immediately started the car, "Tell me if the temperature of the car is alright, okay Pete?"
"Okay," Peter nodded, contemplating before leaning in closer to his dad, "It's cold in here."
Tony turned up the heat and began their journey back to the Tower. The woman in the front seat awkwardly fidgeted and cleared her throat. His father seemed to remember there was another person in the car and he suddenly sat up straight, "Oh! Pete, this is Amber. Amber, this is my son Peter."
"It's nice to meet you." They said in unison, followed by an awkward silence. Peter fought the urge to open the door and run into oncoming traffic because of how awkward it was in the car.
Tony turned on the radio and it eased the tension a little bit. As they went through midtown Manhattan, Peter slouched in his seat wondering why this woman was here. Didn't she have a ride to get home or was she going to stay with them for the rest of the night? He hoped it wasn't the latter.
Well, it didn't matter much to him at the moment because Peter had more important things to worry about. Like quelling this damn nausea that wouldn't go away.
He closed his eyes and tried his best to fall asleep until they got to the Tower. If he was asleep, then obviously he wouldn't feel the urge to throw up and he could give himself a little relief.
And it was working! Until he heard Amber start to talk from the front seat, "You look so hot driving with one hand, Daddy," She whispered hotly into his father's ear.
Peter's eyes shot open in disgust and he automatically felt like throwing up. He really wished he could turn off his enhanced hearing sometimes. To make matters worse, he saw her hand running up and down Tony's leg and that just about did it for the teenager.
He quickly rolled down the window and hung his head outside before expelling more water out into the concrete.
"Aw, Pete," Tony sighed before pulling up to the curb of the Tower. Peter saw Amber lean back in her seat with a pout and her arms crossed before he closed his eyes and threw up again.
Tony immediately got out of the car and opened the door, his heart breaking at seeing his son with tears running down his face and mouth hung open with a string of bile. He looked like a mess.
He gathered his son in his arms and hoisted him up on his hip with one hand before using the other one to open the door for Amber. She huffed as she got out of the car, squealing in disgust when she saw Peter's pile of sick.
Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes.
Peter collapsed as dead weight in his father's arms, dropping his head on the man's shoulder and moaning in despair, "I don't feel good, Daddy."
Amber made a disgusted face before she scoffed and closed the car door.
Tony hugged Peter close and rubbed his back, "I know, bambino. You'll be inside soon."
As soon as the blonde closed the door, Tony tossed his keys to the valet and readjusted the kid in his arms before making his way inside the Tower's lobby.
Peter could see the woman's heels walking close to his father and it was making him feel even more sick. If she tried anything inappropriate in front of him again he would officially be traumatized.
The ride was silent except for the occasional exchange of words between Tony and Amber, mostly the woman just saying how nice the place looked.
Peter hung in his father's arm in misery, feeling and hearing his stomach bubble and squeal. Tony patted his back and finally the elevator doors opened.
"I'm going to put Peter to bed, I'll be right back. Feel free to look around."
"Sure," Amber replied with a fake smile, the act dropping as soon as Tony turned around. She might think she's slick, but Peter caught it over his father's shoulder.
Ever since Peter was little and he got sick, he always loved to be in Tony's bed. There was something about being in your parents bed that was so comforting, so it was no surprise to the boy that Tony laid him down on the mattress.
He immediately curled into fetal position and dug under the covers. Tony chuckled a bit and pet Peter's curls before making his way into the bathroom to collect a waste bin in case the boy decided he needed to throw up again.
As his father walked away, Peter thought about what Amber had said in the car. He was just hoping to dear god that his father wasn't into that...because it would definitely make things complicated.
Just as he was lost in his thoughts, Amber walked into the room and stopped in her tracks. She looked around before landing on Peter with a look of confusion, "I'm sorry, I passed by the room with the teddy bears and Legos so I assumed this one belonged to your father."
Peter opened his mouth to reply but Tony beat him to it, "It is mine. He's just going to rest in here for the day."
"Hm. Can I...talk to you for a second Tony?" Amber said, giving Peter a strange look before going into the hallway. Tony set down the waste bin with a promise to return quickly.
Peter just nodded dubiously and watched both of their retreating forms. Unfortunately, they didn't go far enough into the house where his enhanced hearing couldn't reach, so the conversation was clear as day.
"Why isn't the kid in his bedroom?" He heard her ask with an air of annoyance.
"Uh...he's sick? Isn't it obvious?" Tony said with his usual amount of attitude. There was a sigh and then a bunch of kissing noises (which made Peter put his fingers in his ears and start humming) until he heard them pull away from each other,
"But Daddy, where are we going to fuck?"
"Oh god," Peter whispered to himself before rolling over and dry heaving into the bin that Tony had brought over previously. It wasn't often that his father brought over women and now he could see why. Everyone always saw him as some kind of endlessly horny playboy and completely not a father with his kid in the other room.
"Okay, one, you've got to stop calling me that. I'm not your father and I find it disturbing. Two, I find it ridiculous that you think sex is my number one priority right now. If you didn't notice earlier, my son just spilled his guts all over the sidewalk and can barely stand and you think I'm going to abandon him? Nuh uh, not happening."
"But this was supposed to be our day! We've been planning this for weeks."
"Well, sorry to break it to you, but it's not our day anymore. I've got a kid to take care of."
Peter heard Amber growl in frustration, "Yeah, apparently a kid who hasn't taken the time to grow up yet. Great parenting on your part, Daddy."
Tony sighed, "You can leave now."
"You're an asshole!"
"So I've been told. Have a good one!"
It was silent for a few minutes and Peter was starting to worry that his father left with her, but he saw the man's tired figure walk into the room moments later and the boy sat up a little, "What happened?"
As if he didn't hear the whole conversation.
"Nothing you need to worry about, Bambi. Just focus on resting," Tony said as he sifted through his closet to find something more comfortable to wear. He disappeared into the bathroom to change and emerged later in a tshirt and sweatpants before slipping into bed with his son.
Tony pulled Peter to his chest and rested his chin atop his head before sighing deeply.
"What's wrong?" Peter asked softly, worried that his father was irritated that his date left. He didn't like the woman, but he would still feel bad if his father was actually trying with her and he was the cause of his irritation.
Tony didn't say anything, just pressing a kiss to Peter's head, "Do you want soup and a movie?" He mumbled tiredly.
Peter took the silent cue to stop asking questions, "Yes please," But the boy was stubborn and decided he needed to get his father's opinion on what had just happened in order for him to really focus on resting,
"Where did Amber go?"
"I sent her home. She decided to be disrespectful to me and my family and I wasn't going to allow that. I also don't want that type of person near my child. Plain and simple, Roo," Tony said with a shrug.
Peter looked down at the blankets, "Oh. Well I'm sorry if I ruined your guy's date. Believe me, I really wish I wasn't sick," He said with a humorless laugh.
"Mm, there's nothing to apologize for. She was a bitch anyway."
Peter giggled and leaned his head against Tony's chest, "You know who's not a bitch? Pepper. You should go on a date with her instead."
"First of all, language. I'm the only one who can cuss here," Tony pinched Peter's cheek without any malice, "And secondly, stop being a nosy brat."
The older man pat his son's hip before getting up and leaving the bed, "I'm going to get your soup and other stuff ready."
Peter hid his smile behind the covers. It would be a matter of time before his father stopped being stubborn and asked Pepper out again.
Tony returned not long after he left with a small glass of water, a can of ginger ale, and a bowl of soup. He was doing a great job balancing everything, it was impressing the hell out of Peter.
He handed his son the bowl and set the drinks on the bedside table before collapsing on the bed with a groan, "What are we thinking about watching, kiddo?"
Peter tilted his head in thought, "Hm, how about a Disney movie?"
"You got it."
Tony put on a random movie and got comfortable in the bed while Peter was eating his soup. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the background noise of the movie and the clinking of Peter's spoon against the bowl. That is, until he heard Peter slam it on top of the bedside table and reach for the waste bin.
"Oh, Pete," Tony said softly as he watched his son expel everything he just ate into the bin. At least he had something in his stomach to throw up.
Peter hung his head over the bin and spit before putting it down on the floor again. Tony didn't hesitate to grab a wet rag and wipe Peter's mouth with it when he noticed tears continuously running down his face.
What did he miss in a matter of seconds?
"What's going on?" Tony said quizzically when we saw Peter's tears turn into downright sobs.
"I-I was trying to ignore it but it's eating me up," Peter cried, burrowing his face into his hands. Tony was standing there clueless, not knowing what brought this up. One moment Peter seemed content with eating and watching his movie and then the next he's sobbing and throwing up.
The older man eventually moved to sit on the bed and pull Peter into his side. He let him calm down before he said anything, he wanted to allow Peter to collect his thoughts before anything else.
Eventually Peter put his hands in his lap and sighed, "Does it make you uncomfortable that I still call you Daddy?"
Tony furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Not at all, you're my little boy. What brought this on, Roo?"
Peter sniffed, "'Is just...Flash overheard me on the phone with you at MoMA and he started laughing when I called you that. And he was making fun of me in the elevator before you came to pick me up. And then I heard what Amber said in the hallway. Then you said you find it disturbing so I just...I just don't want to lose the only family I have left."
"Pete..." Tony said softly, "You aren't going to lose me over some silly nickname. Before anything, I want to apologize if you heard that conversation. It wasn't for little ears and she was being completely inappropriate with you around. And I only said it was disturbing because only one person is allowed to call me that. Can you guess who?"
Peter looked up at him with big brown eyes, "Me?"
His father smiled fondly, "Bingo. That name is reserved for my son and my son only. I'm not going to let some random woman sexualize a completely innocent word," He said before he made a face of disdain, "And Flash has no reason to make fun of you. There are plenty of teenagers who still call their parents Mommy and Daddy."
"Who?" Peter sniffled again, shuffling closer to Tony.
"Uh..." The billionaire thought before snapping his fingers, "Cher from Clueless."
Peter rolled his eyes, "She only says that because she's spoiled."
Tony laid his son down again and tucked him under the blanket, "Are you not spoiled?"
The boy playfully shook his head 'no' and hid his smile under the covers.
"No? I'm not doing a good enough job then," Tony said before peppering a ton of kisses over Peter's face. The curly haired brunet started giggling incessantly, pushing his father's face away.
"Your beard is scratchy, stop it!" He giggled and watched as Tony finally finished his attack. The man leaned back and admired his son, wiping away his tears,
”With all these tears you can probably collect a jar of raindrops,” He said softly before resting his hand on Peter’s cheek,
"Listen, Pete. Don't let anyone make you question your purity and kindness. You're the only thing I did right in my life and I'm so proud of who you've become. Just remember how much I love you, bambino."
Peter sat up and hugged his father, "I love you too, Daddy."