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May Parker curses under her breath when she reads the date of the night shift she was asked to take over for another nurse who unexpectedly fell ill two days ago.
Of course. Parker luck strikes again and no wait- damn it, she can’t believe Peter actually got through to her with that ridiculous notion that there even is something like ‘Parker luck’. But she concedes grumbly, if there would be a moment where she might have reconsidered her stance on this, it must be this one right here.
Because of course, the shift is on the only day in the year where she is supposed to go to Peter’s school and attend the annual Back to School Night.
She lets out a resigned breath. Well, there’s not a lot she can do about this whole thing. Considering that the event is tomorrow night, and the hospital currently is at its limit with patient capacity, there’s no way she’ll be able to get her supervisor to reschedule the shift for her.
She feels the nagging feeling of guilt settle around her neck. She hates having to disappoint her nephew like that but… she sadly has no say in this matter.
“Peter? Sweetheart? Can you come here for a second?”, she calls in the direction of his room and after she heard his answering call (‘Coming, Aunt May!’) she stops her relentless pacing and lets herself fall into a chair at their dining table.
“What’s up, May?”, Peter asks once he comes walking into the kitchen, looking at her with his expectant doe eyes and suddenly, it’s even harder to be the bearer of bad news.
She sighs again. “Peter… Remember that tomorrow is the Back to School Night at Midtown?”
Her nephew’s brows furrow just the tiniest bit, mouth twisted in that usual slight frown he always wears when he’s confused and not really sure where she’s going with something.
“Yeah, I do… What about it?”, he asks her, and she clearly hears the uncertainty in his words.
She feels the guilt crawling up inside of her once again, making her own face twist into an apologetic wince.
“There’s been a spontaneous change in shifts at the hospital and now… I can’t make it to the event. I’m so sorry, Peter.”
It takes a second for her words to sink in, but when they do, there’s no dejection in Peter’s face. Quite the contrary because the teen makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, carefree smile spreading over his face now.
“Oh, don’t worry, Aunt May. You were there last year, there’s not much new stuff to see, apart from like, one or two new teachers so, that’s fine. It’s not required anyways so. Eh. Who cares.”
May lifts one eyebrow at that. Is that so?
“Oh, okay. What about Ned?”
At the mention of his friend, Peter pensively lifts one hand to his chin, thumb tapping against his lips just the way Ben always did, and May has to suppress a wave of loss so sudden she clenches her hands into fists and averts her gaze to the table so that her nephew doesn’t notice that anything’s wrong.
Fortunately, Peter is too busy cramming through his sleep-deprived, teenager brain to see anything off about her.
“Hm, I’m not sure to be honest, we haven’t really talked about that. Should I go ask him?”
May considers this shortly, but she tells her nephew that it’s not necessary. Peter then returns to his room, after she assigned him with set-the-table duty in half an hour.
She’s relieved to know that Peter is more than okay with her not being able to make it tomorrow but… Still. She would like to know what goes on at Peter’s school and maybe get to know these new teachers he mentioned. Plus, she isn’t a fan of making bad first impressions, especially in things regarding something so important as her nephews’ education. She wracks her brain for another good five minutes to see if a sudden idea strikes her but… nothing.
Acquiescent with the fact that she really can’t do anything about this, she stands up and walks over to the stove, ready to start cooking dinner. She pulls out a pot and a pan from the cupboard above her when she stops in her tracks, arms still hovering in the air with the cooking utensils clutched in her hands.
There’s that little dint in the wood at the underside of that cupboard that got there because a certain disaster billionaire and a certain chaos teen decided to try and cook pasta together here in May’s kitchen when she’d been gone for a weekend due to a work conference. And sure enough, the whole thing exploded in their faces because they couldn’t cook an omelette to save their lives.
Oh. Of course.
There’s a small, smug smile spreading on her lips.
May, you’re a genius.
---
Tony is arms deep in the guts of one of his favourite cars when Friday alerts him of an incoming call.
“Tell whoever that is that I’m dead, unavailable Fri. They can reach me in hell.”
His AI is silent for a second, before retorting, “Alright, I am certain Mrs. Parker will be delighted to hear of your recent passing, boss.”
That makes Tony let out a yelp and his hand slips off the screw nut he was working on getting free.
“No, no- Fri wait! Let her through! Why didn’t you say it’s her?”
“Because I gaslight gatekeep girlboss, boss.”
He lets out a dramatic groan at that. “Friday, for god’s sake, I will put a Peter filter into your code if you don’t stop with that bullshit. I already don’t understand like forty percent of what the kid texts me daily, I don’t need that from you too!”
Instead of an answer, he hears May’s questioning voice sound through his lab. “Tony? Hello?”
His AI was going to be the death of him, teamed up with a certain spiderkid he swears to fucking god.
“Hey May!”, he calls out to her, acting as if nothing’s wrong because, there isn’t, right? Peter would’ve texted him first or he would’ve gotten an alert from his suit if he was bleeding out in some disgusting alley, right?
“Hey, Tony. I’m sorry that this is on such short notice, you’re probably busy anyways but… I just thought I’d ask anyways, just in case.”
Okay. He’s intrigued now (and relieved since she isn’t actively yelling at him… yet). He steps back from the car, grabbing blindly for the dingy washcloth Rhodey threatened to suffocate him with if he wouldn’t wash the damn thing the next day (that was two months ago now, and the cloth still hasn’t seen the inside of a washing machine) and wipes off most of the grime clinging to his hands.
“Sure, do your worst, May, don’t pull your punches I can take it”, he says just because he can and her annoyed huff of air and the very possible roll of her eyes makes an amused grin spread on his face.
“Fine. Tomorrow night is an event at Peter’s school, it’s the ‘Back to School Night’ where parents or guardians get to know the school their kid is attending to and other stuff that your kid will do during the year. I wanted to go but there’s been some change in the hospital shifts and now I can’t make it. So… I wanted to ask if you’re free tomorrow night and if you’d like to go instead of me? Because I really don’t want Peter’s new teachers to think that his guardians don’t care for his education and-“
“May”, Tony interrupts her before she rambles herself against the wall, “of course I’ll go, it’s no problem. My evening’s free as a bird.”
There’s suddenly a hologram springing to life in front of his eyes, showcasing his timetable full to the brim with meetings and unimportant stuff like that, so Tony rolls his eyes and waves it away, unimpressed.
“Oh- Really? Are you sure you’ve got-“
“Of course!”, he cuts her off for the second time and sends an irritated look at the ceiling directed at his rogue AI who again, at May’s repeated inquiry about his schedule, lets another hologram pop up right on his nose.
“Okay, well, that’s really great of you, thank you so much! I’ll send you some paperwork that lets you attend on my behalf and Peter’s bell schedule. Thank you again, Tony, it means a lot to me.”
“Of course, May, anything for my favourite aunt of my favourite kid.”
The call disconnects and Tony smirks. Looks like tomorrow is going to be a fun night.
___
Tony arrives fashionably late at Midtown High in his most obnoxious car that he owns, which happened to be his flashy orange Audi R8. He parks it right next to the cars of all the other parents attending this event.
If Tony Stark was attending some school event for his kid, he would do it right, of course.
With a beep he locks his car, making sure one last time that he got all the necessary documents to be let into the school because imagine how embarrassing that would be if he wouldn’t be let in because he forgot a freaking piece of paper. Nope, not going to happen.
Once he’s triple sure he got everything he needs, he makes his way towards the only illuminated part of the school, which probably must be the entrance.
He steps into the open hall on the inside of the school all the while suppressing the unwanted nostalgia that’s forcefully reminding him of his own, lesser great days spent in high school.
Ugh. Can’t say he’s overtly happy being brought back to the hell that were his younger years. The things he does for the kid.
He lets his gaze travel around the hall, taking in the typical lockers stringed up along the walls and the kitschy banners hung around for this event before his eyes land on a small information stand to the right. Nobody else is here, since most of the parents and students were already further in the building, no doubt sitting in the classrooms and getting to know the teachers, so there haven’t been any gobsmacked stares turned his way yet.
But that changes the second he’s standing in front of the woman sitting behind the info desk. She has her nose buried in some romance novel, but her eyes flit up once she registers someone standing in front of her and promptly does a double take.
Once the realization must’ve hit her on who’s waiting for her attention right now, she slaps her book close with a force that lets the sound echo through the empty hallways before springing out of the chair and almost tripping over her feet.
“Mr.- Mr. Stark- how can I- What are you doing here?”, she stammers, composure completely lost and eyes wide as saucers as she’s openly gawking at him.
Tony chuckles, shuffling the pieces of paper around in his hand.
“I’m here as stand-in for May Parker.”
She keeps staring at him, confusion only growing on her face.
“May Parker?”, he asks, tilting his head so that he's able to look the woman directly in the eyes over the edge of his sunglasses, “Guardian of Peter Parker?”
Another second passes in which there’s nothing but bewilderment written all over her features, but then something must’ve clicked because her body jerks and then she exclaims,
“Ah, Mrs. Parker, of course!”
Then, there’s a frown on her face. “But you’re not Peter Parker’s official guardian, are you? You see, with all due respect Mr. Stark, I can’t just let anyone walk in here-“
Tony must admit he’s impressed with her ability to remain professional. Others wouldn’t have had any qualms about letting him pass just because of who he is.
He interrupts her with the documents he unceremoniously shoves in her face.
“That’s all taken care of. So, if you could show me the fastest way to this classroom, that would be very much appreciated”, he flashes her a charming smile.
There’s a hint of a blush on her face as she takes the documents from his hands. He waits patiently for her to go through the paperwork, before she, satisfied with the document, nods and tells him to follow her.
Once they reach his first destination, she stares at him a bit too long before she leaves again, muttering something under her breath and shaking her head. Yeah, this was going to be so much fun.
Well, he thinks, let’s get this party started.
Without knocking, Tony slams open the door to the classroom.
The first thing Tony sees is the teacher, startled out of his mind he whips around, indignant expression on his face, no doubt seconds from tearing him a new one for just bursting in here without warning.
But he stops dead in his tracks once he sees who’s standing in the doorway, raised finger shrivelling up like a dead flower. Another thirty pairs of eyes stare at him equally spooked and utterly befuddled from the other part of the room.
It’s deathly silent, no one dares to say a single word.
Tony has to fight hard to not dissolve into a fit of laughter. This is great, pure comedy gold. He has to do this more often, lol. (And yes, it’s hard not picking up some ridiculous gen z slang if you almost spend all your free time hanging out with the definition of gen-z-ness, sue him.)
Only his decade’s long experience in front of cameras lets him keep his neutral poker face in place, when he asks,
“Is this Peter Parker’s new English class?”
The teacher keeps staring at him, mouth hanging open completely at a loss for words. From somewhere in the classroom, he hears a choked noise and Tony’s eyes flit in the direction of its origin and finds the source of the sound was a student, staring at him as if he was Jesus reincarnated himself and wearing a tacky suit of all things with a terribly knotted tie. A short glance in the direction of his father confirms that knotting ties apparently doesn’t run in their family.
When he turns his gaze back, the teacher is still goggling at him, flabbergasted. He shows no signs of answering him anytime soon, so Tony asks again,
“So? Is it or not?”
The teacher flounders with his words, mouth closing and opening like a fish before he finally got his shit together and gathers his bearings.
“Uh- Uhm”, he thumbs through the stack of documents in his hands, letting his eyes flit over them, “Yes- Yes Peter’s one of my… One of my new pupils, Mr.- Mr. Stark, what-“
But, as much as he’s enjoying this, Tony just wants to go ahead and sit down, so that he can do the job May sent him here to do. Thus, he cuts off the teacher with an enthusiastic ‘Great!’ and makes a beeline for the only, small and quite frankly smelly desk that’s available.
Once he’s seated, everyone keeps staring at him, still completely shell-shocked.
It takes a lot for him to hold back the snicker. Alright, a little jump start won’t hurt anybody.
He claps his hands together, making everyone startle in their seats again (except for that curly haired, dark-skinned girl that seems kind of familiar to him) before he commands the teacher to continue.
He’s a stammering mess for another two full minutes before he slowly falls back into his groove, and it takes even more for Tony to not let the bemused smile take over his face.
He listens intently to each word Mr. Hemmingway tells them, despite the almost constant muttering and whispering going on around him, and Tony is diligently taking notes on his StarkPad. May had assigned him very carefully that he should gather as much information as he could, so that she was in top form regarding Peter’s education and all. And he’d be damned if he would disappoint her. (Like literally, he’d be damned to hell for all eternity by her. May’s vicious like that.)
There may be the rumour going round in the business world that he’s a terrible participant in meetings, always busy on his phone and not paying attention. Which, fair, might be true, but he takes excellent notes and listens very thoroughly when push comes to shove. And this matter is far too important for him too, to do it half-heartedly.
So that’s why he’s the first one to raise his hand at the end of the presentation, once Mr. Hemmingway asks them if they have any questions.
He first looks like he doesn’t know how to speak anymore, before slightly shaking his head and then addressing him.
“Uh, yes, Mr.- Mr. Stark?”
Tony wastes no second in diving into his first question.
“You see, Peter is a very busy young man, with the SI internship and other extracurricular activities he has going on, stress will be no stranger to him, as I’m sure is the case for many other pupils present here too. Do you have any way of ensuring that your students won’t succumb to the state of their mental health while attending your class?”
Mr. Hemmingway takes some seconds to think of an answer, clearly not expecting a question like this from him.
“Oh, hmm, excellent question, Mr. Stark, so…”
Then he goes on for five minutes about how students are encouraged to ask for extensions on certain projects they will have to do throughout the year and how there’s always the possibility to speak to their school counsellor who will then bring the matter to the teacher to search for a solution.
Satisfied, Tony nods, once he’s scribbled down some key words regarding this in his document. But he isn’t done yet.
After May’s call yesterday, he had sat down at his desk and formulated a bunch of questions he wanted to ask the teachers, adding to the ones May sent him. Because, when he reluctantly thought back to his time in high school and all the ways it had failed him and how the teachers had done nothing to help him, Tony wanted to make sure that Peter would not have to go through the same experiences as he had. It would be unacceptable.
He raises his hand again, armed with the next question about the difficulty of the material they would go through in his class and if he had any intention of offering extra challenges to pupils who were particularly gifted in that subject.
“… Because when I think back to my high school days, I remember being bored out of my mind in certain classes because the teachers failed to adjust the difficulty of the subject to fit each individual’s needs. I have read enough studies to know that this is detrimental to a child’s development, so, what are you going to do about it?”
And it went on like this for at least ten more minutes until Tony was sure he had asked all the questions he wanted answers to. They are already at least twenty minutes past schedule, but it’s not like that’s his fault. If they didn’t plan in enough time for questions, well, again, not his problem.
He is pretty sure that all the other adults were slowly losing his patience with him, which is often the case when he chooses to be rigorous with something, but that notion proves wrong when he shortly lets his gaze sweep through the classroom. Every adult present and even some of the students seem to actually pay very close attention to what the teacher was answering to Tony’s questions, and he sees more than one nodding their head along his inquiries.
Everyone, except the father son duo dressed in matching suits and terribly knotted ties. The father is looking at his watch every other minute and rolling his eyes, as if he couldn’t be bothered to be here longer than necessary. He feels kind of bad for the boy sitting next to him, because Tony knows very intimately how it feels when your father thinks events like these are a waste of time (how Howard always loved to make it abundandly clear).
Mr. Hemmingway suddenly starts ushering them outside, after he realized with no small amount of panic how late they already were, but before Tony leaves, he walks to the front of the class and addresses him one last time.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Hemmingway, for your thorough answers to my questions and your very well-made presentation. Peter Parker is one of the most gifted and talented interns I’ve ever had the pleasure of personally working with and I’m sure, he will give his best in your class too. I’m looking forward to hearing more of you. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
The teacher splutters before stammering out some words like ‘it was my pleasure to have you in my classroom Sir’ or ‘Thank you Sir’ with quite the starstruck expression on his face while Tony is firmly shaking his hand and then leaves the classroom to catch up with the others.
---
As it turns out, he’s the sole reason for why the whole schedule is off for at least one and a half hours once everyone garners in their last destination for the evening: the school sports hall where a small aperitif is held.
Nobody seems particularly upset about that fact though, because everyone is now more than keen on seeing the Tony Stark with their own eyes, since the news of his presence travelled through the school faster than a wildfire.
After the first wave of overeager, amazed students and parents asking him for autographs and selfies was over, things quieted down enough for a bemused Tony to get some snacks and go mingle with the still somewhat buzzing crowd.
After half an hour of just going round, making polite small talk with the teachers, Tony found himself in a small circle of parents that he recognized from his very first class with Mr. Hemmingway and decides to stick around a bit. One of those set of parents, he came to know during one of the transitions between classrooms, are the kid’s best friend Ned’s parents with whom he’s currently laughing about dumb shit he and Peter apparently have done together when they were younger.
“… it took me eleven, eleven, days to find the rest of the frogs scattered in our apartment. Each time I was sure I found them all, I’d be scared shitless when there was another ‘ribbit’ coming from somewhere behind a cabinet!”, Mrs. Leeds almost cry-laughs from telling Tony the famous Parker- Leeds frog story, one arm holding onto her equally cackling husband.
He can’t help but bellow out his own laughter too. Envisioning small Peter with a bucket full of frogs and then falling flat on his face, releasing a frog army upon their poor apartment is just- too fucking hilarious.
Their conversation carries on like this, Tony in exchange telling them equally silly stuff that happened to Peter in the lab and the Leeds nodding and snickering along (‘That does sound like Peter, oh lord’) and Tony finds that he is quite enjoying himself.
“You know, tell you what, if that kid Ned of yours is ever interested in his own little internship, I’d gladly offer him one at SI, too. Sounds like he’s one hell of a force with computers”, the stunned and appreciative smiles that takes over their faces is enough to ensure Tony that he made the right choice and his own face twists up into a genuine smile. The kid’s going to lose it when he gets wind of this. Can’t wait to see his face.
Then, someone to his right clears their throat. Tony turns to face them and is promptly met by the pompous smile of Mr. Terrible Tie. Tony’s own smile dims a little. He knows exactly what kind of person he’s dealing with; he’s had his fair share of assholes in the business world who think themselves king of the world just because they’re the CEO from some obscure company he’s never even heard of.
And boy does he love putting these assholes back in their place.
“Can I help you?”, Tony asks, not even bothering to hide his displeasure at getting interrupted during his conversation.
The CEO of bad-tie-tying sends him a suck-up smirk. “My name is Harrison Thompson, CEO of Tomth International.”
His words hang in the air and Thompson is clearly waiting for some kind of response from him, if the expectant and arrogant expression on his face is anything to go by.
Well, Tony is going to give him a reaction, alright.
“Congratulations”, Tony says perfectly neutral and turns back around to continue his far more entertaining conversation with the Leeds, not sparing that donkey another glance.
But Thompson isn’t giving up that fast, it seems, because he side-steps him so that he’s standing right in front of Tony again and he has to fight the urge to roll his eyes hard.
“If I may”, he starts and Tony thinks yes you may go back to the slimy hole you crawled out of, “By chance, I overheard you talking about possible internships at SI. My son, Eugene, is one of the most intelligent with top grades all around in his year and I’m sure he would be a wonderful addition to SI’s intern team. It would be an honour doing business with you, Mr. Stark.”
Thompson’s voice is dripping with superiority and arrogance, and Tony has to squash the reflex to punch the douche's teeth out.
“What a generous offer, Mr. Thompton!", he sends him his most agitating, sickly-sweet smile, the one that earned him more than one fist to the face back in college, "But no."
It does its job splendidly as Tony watches how Thompson’s nostrils flare and eyes narrow just the tiniest bit, before he regains his composure. It’s too easy playing with idiots like these.
“Mr. Stark, you might want to reconsider my offer-“
“And you might want to reconsider how you talk about your son, Mr. Thompson”, Tony cuts him off harshly, eyes hard and unforgiving, because he can’t stand assholes who talk about others, especially their own child, as if they’re nothing more than a cog in their money making machine, “If I recall correctly, the 13th Amendment to abolish slavery was ratified in 1865, and last time I checked, we’re in the year 2018.”
Thompson looks at him as if he slapped him and there’s more than one gasp audible from the small crowd that has gathered around them, curious to know what the commotion was about.
If the asshole insists on being, well, an asshole, Tony has never had any qualms about giving anyone a piece of his mind. Just like he has never had any qualms about making a huge deal out of nothing. He doesn’t care about bad press and is able to afford some scathing articles about him losing his temper without feeling the slightest dents in his stocks (although Pepper may or may not tear him apart), but he’s quite sure Thompson can’t. And everyone who dares to challenge Tony Stark will learn the hard way what happens to his enemies.
They burn.
In the meantime, the Eugene kid emerged from the crowd and is now standing next to his father, the same arrogant stance visible, albeit there’s some uncertainty in his gaze travelling back and forth between him and Tony.
“How dare you-?!”, Thompson starts, appalled, but Tony doesn’t give him the chance to continue.
“How dare I? How dare you interrupt me having a conversation with these people and expect me to just hand out internships to any willy-nilly John Doe who feels entitled to work with SI just because they’re some backwater CEO nobody has ever heard of?”, Tony rants and sees with satisfaction how the boy is shrinking back further and further, while Thompson’s face is taking on a rather alarming red hue.
Maybe it was too late to drill some sense into his father, but hopefully some of what he’s saying gets through to the kid’s brain.
Thompson is practically fuming with anger now, not even bothering to hide the way he’s glaring at him. He opens his mouth, finger raising and probably seconds from calling Tony something very creative, when Thompson’s son tugs at his father’s arm.
“Come on, dad, it’s not worth it”, he mutters, clearly uncomfortable with the way his father is acting. Tony can’t blame him.
“Not worth it?! Don’t you feel it’s unfair that people like Parker are provided with such opportunities and not people like us?!”
As soon as the words left Thompsonis mouth he visibly recoils and all colour drains from his face. His son sports an equally frightened expression on his face.
But it’s too late because Tony sees red.
“People like Parker?”, he demands, almost baring his teeth with how hard he’s clenching his jaw and distorting his lips to keep himself from snarling.
But Thompson is absolutely at a loss about what to say, colour draining from his face even more until he’s as white as a sheet. Tony keeps staring at him unrelenting, jaw clenched hard, waiting for an answer.
Fine. He’s going to show this bastard exactly what happens when people dare to mutter even a single bad word about his kid.
“’People like Parker’” Tony spits out, fingers doing quotation marks in the air, “are no less worth than anyone else in this room! I don’t fucking care how many millions you have sitting on your bank account or how many yachts are parked in your garage, I don’t fucking care if you think you’re the hottest shit walking on this planet because you get to relax in your multimillion dollar villa while you underpay your employees working themselves to death. Because I can guarantee you, one hundred percent, that Peter is at least worth a thousand times more than arrogant assholes like you who feel like they own the world because they earn their millions through sitting around on their ass all day doing nothing!”
Tony’s panting now, getting worked up more and more but he’s not going to end until this fucker leaves this school, head low and tail tucked between his legs.
“Peter is the most intelligent, worthiest and kindest person I’ve ever met, he works his ass off getting the grades he has and ensuring he gets into the university that he wants all the while working with me in the lab, helping me develop cleaner energy sources for the future to save the goddamn planet and he’s fifteen for god’s sake! And he does all that because he wants to even though he could spend his free time doing dumb teenager shit, but no! He sacrifices most of his free time to help people who he doesn’t even know because he’s just as kind-hearted and generous as that! He’s done more good in his fifteen years of life than you ever will, so don’t ever fucking dare talk like that about my kid ever again or you will be sorry.”
The silence after his outburst is deafening. Every person present in the sports hall is observing them, utterly shocked and completely petrified. Tony’s gaze lands by chance on the same curly haired girl he’d seen in the beginning of the evening. Their eyes meet, she lifts an unimpressed eyebrow at him, and Tony raises his own at her attitude. Okay.
He turns back to Thompson, breathing hard and fucking fuming, who looks one step away from dying of high blood pressure. Good riddance. Tony shows him his most vicious shark smile, dangerous glint in his eyes when he sends him one last look over the border of his sunglasses.
“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to continue my conversation with the Leeds.”
He turns swiftly without wating for any form of response from the ass and walks over to where the Leeds are standing now, both of them too not quite managing to hide the what the fuck just happened in their expressions. With a quick nod towards the entrance to the hall, he tells them, “I think I’ve had enough of this, what do you say that we adjourn this conversation to one of my favourite restaurants in Queens?”
There’s still no other noise audible other than his voice sounding through the hall, so there’s no doubt that everyone has heard his invitation.
There’s a devilish glint in his eyes he can’t quite supress as he hopes Thompson is still here to hear him inviting people like Parker – God he wants to slap that sucker into next week – over people like him.
Mrs. Leeds gathers her composure before her husband does. She smiles at him, a cheery sparkle to her eyes when she accepts his offer without a hint of hesitation.
All the teachers, parents and the few students present watch them leave as if they’re seeing a pink elephant on a unicycle bike past them and Tony can’t hold back the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Nobody fucking messes with my family.
Once they’re outside of the hall, a figure in his right periphery springs to his attention and when he twists his head to see who it is, it’s that girl again. Curiosity thoroughly piqued, he tells the Leeds they should carry on and wait for him at his car, before turning back to the girl.
Before he can say anything though, she beats him to it.
“I have to say I’m impressed. I’ve never seen Flash look quite so mortified before.”
“Flash?”, Tony repeats the name, brows furrowed in confusion. Somehow, this name feels familiar but for the life of him he can’t-
Oh. Oh.
“That was Flash?”, he asks the girl, baffled, but then the same fire from before blazes in his chest when there’s the image of a teary eyed, sniffling Peter burying his face in his hands after confessing to Tony that he gets called names and shoved around in school by a kid with a ridiculous name flickering before his eyes.
Tony clenches his fists by his sides. Of course, that Flash bully is the son of that fucking asshole Thompson. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and all that shit, right?
“I’m MJ, by the way”, the girl introduces herself then, “and I may not be a big fan of people owning more money than the rest of the population combined, but I still wanted to say thanks for making sure Peter’s not actively dying each time he goes out as spiderman.”
Tony thinks he hasn’t heard right. The girl- what?!
“You- what did you just say?”
She just shrugs, almost bored expression on her face and Tony makes a mental note to ask Peter about this girl and why the fuck the graph depicting the number of people aware of his alter ego is an exponential curve.
“You’re really good for him, y’know? After Ben… after he died, he hadn’t been the same. But since he’s hanging out with you, he’s happier than he’s been in a long time. More confident too. And dare I say, after what I’ve heard back there”, she motions with her thumb in the direction of the sports hall, “the same goes for you too. Although I’m not really sure ‘bout that, but anyways. I gotta go now, bye.”
It's Tony’s turn to watch the girl – MJ – saunter back into the gym hall, absolutely stunned speechless. The longer he stands there and the longer he lets her words sink into him, the harder it gets to hold back the soft smile on his lips.
There’s that familiar warmth blooming in his chest and spreading itself into every atom of his being. It’s pure, the feeling, warm like the sun caressing his skin for the first time in months. He doesn’t think that he’s ever felt more accomplished with anything he's ever done, after hearing MJ’s words. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more just- plain good knowing he has a positive influence on Peter.
It’s hard. God it’s almost impossible sometimes being the role model Peter needs him to be when he himself has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He’s a complete and utter mess ninety-nine percent of the time, a ticking time bomb made up of PTSD and anxiety and trauma and he shouldn’t deserve having someone in his life so kind and- and whole like Peter. He shouldn’t deserve the way the kid looks at him with so much adoration and trust it makes Tony’s skin crawl but simultaneously makes him feel like he's worth it. That he’s worth being looked up to and loved just the way he is. That maybe, he is good for Peter, no matter what his father’s voice keeps screaming at him in his mind (disgrace bad pathetic) and how all his mistakes keep haunting him.
Maybe, he’s worth being loved by someone like Peter and in turn, is worthy to love him back just as unconditionally.
Jesus, he thinks, he has got to keep an eye on that MJ girl.
---
Peter Parker walks into Midtown High a day after the annual Back to School Night.
At first, he doesn’t even realize there’s something off when he enters the school, just keeps his head low as he makes his way towards his locker and passes by other pupils like always.
But there’s something definitely not like always happening here. It takes him a moment to realize what it is and when he lifts his gaze to see what’s going on and why everyone’s so silent, he’s met by the stares of at least two dozen students gaping at him as if he forgot to put on pants this morning.
Holy shit, he didn’t, did he?!
There’s a choked sound escaping his throat as he whips his head down towards his legs. Please please please oh god, hallelujah he thinks, when he’s not met with the most embarrassing thing he’s ever done, but with the reassuring sight of the beige material of one of his favourite pairs of pants.
He lets out a relieved breath. Phew, he really needs to get his sleeping schedule in check if forgetting to wear pants is becoming a real thing he has to fear now.
Since it’s not his lack of trousers that makes everyone stare at him, Peter starts to feel self-conscious though. He’s used to some stares here and there and deals with them fine (maybe not what Mr. Stark would say), but this?!
He feels the heat creeping up his cheeks and spread further to his ears. He really, really doesn’t get what’s happening and it would be nice if, y’know, someone had at least the decency to point out whatever it is in his appearance that makes him the focus of everyone’s attention.
But nothing happens. They keep staring at him and staring and Peter is breathing shallower and shallower, but they keep staring and staring and staring and-
Then, someone grabs him by the shoulder and yanks him backwards into an empty classroom. Peter whirls around, heart pounding in his chest to see-
Ned.
“Dude!”
“Ned! What the hell is happening?!”
They both exclaim at the same time, Peter at the edge of a panicked breakdown and Ned watching him with huge eyes.
Peter is the first to break their tense silence with another, almost hysteric flood of words.
“Ned! Everyone’s staring at me, and I don’t know why! First I thought I forgot to wear pants like a complete idiot but when I checked I noticed I’m actually wearing one of my favourite trousers and like, wouldn’t have other people on the subway reacted too if I wasn’t wearing-“
“Peter, dude, slow down!”, Ned starts, cutting his friend off, but then looks at Peter completely baffled, “You- you don’t know??”
“What? Don’t know what, Ned?”, and there’s a desperate tone in Peter’s voice now because what does he not know-
Ned looks at him as if Peter’s two seconds away from losing his mind and well, he might as well is!
“Oh my god Peter please tell me you’re joking-“
But Peter’s had enough and wants to know what the hell is going on, right now.
“Just tell me what’s going on Ned!”, Peter pleads with his best friend.
“You really- Peter, did you not once look at your phone in the last twelve hours?”
“Why- What does that have to do with anything?”
Ned keeps looking at him incredulously, before he averts his gaze and sighs.
“Forget it. I just can’t believe you didn’t know Mr. Stark was here yesterday-“
It takes five full seconds for Peter to make sense of Ned’s words, but when they do, they do. What the actual-
“What? Mr. Stark was here?!”
To Peter’s complete horror, Ned nods so fast it’s a wonder his head’s still attached to his neck.
“But- but- why?!”, Peter shrieks, horrified.
“I don’t know!”, Ned exclaims, “Maybe- maybe May asked him to come for her sake, like because you told me she couldn’t come-“
At this point, they are both hysterically shrieking at each other.
“But I told her it’s fine! Why would she ask Mr. Stark and why would he have said yes?!”
“I don’t know dude!”
“So that’s why everyone’s staring at me?! Because they think Mr. Stark was here because of me?”
Ned looks at him with a sympathetic expression.
“Oh Peter. They not only think that, they know it. Someone… Someone filmed him here and now it’s trending all over Twitter.”
If possible, Peter’s voice darts another octave higher.
“What?!”
As answer, Ned searches for his phone in his backpack and once he found it, wastes no seconds in opening YouTube and clicking on a video featuring Mr. Stark on its thumbnail. He presses the device into Peter’s hand without another word.
The video starts and Peter sees Mr. Stark talking with Ned’s parents and holy shit-
“Your parents talked with Mr. Stark?!”
“Yeah right, crazy shit, but look!”
It didn’t take long until someone cleared their throat and demanded Mr. Stark’s attention and when Peter realized who it was, he yelps and would’ve lost his grip on Ned’s phone if not for his stickiness.
“That’s- That’s Flash’s dad!”
But Ned only shushes him again and motions for him to watch.
So, Peter watches Flash’s dad ask Mr. Stark if he’d be interested to offer Flash an internship at SI too, but Mr. Stark was having none of it (Peter smugly grins at that). Flash’s dad didn’t give up that easily though and pestered Mr. Stark until Flash of all people told his father to stop (Peter can’t believe he’s seeing Flash be so… un-Flashy). And then suddenly Mr. Stark was shouting at him and cursing up a storm even though he was in a school and then he was saying all these things about Peter and how he’s the best person he knows and oh my god what the hell is even happening-
Then the video ends.
Peter doesn’t know if he’s going to cry or faint.
“That’s not the only video that was taken off him, there’s at least half a dozen of Mr. Stark talking about you Peter and-“
“About- about me?”
“Oh, yeah, dude, my parents told me Mr. Stark wouldn’t stop talking about you and how smart you are and how you’re the future of SI and all that. It’s crazy! They told me how Mr. Stark kept asking the teachers all these questions and actually taking notes-”
Ned keeps rambling on, but Peter couldn’t possibly listen to him anymore, even if he tried. Because all this? Mr. Stark going to an even at his school for his sake and defending him in front of everyone?
It feels like a fever dream.
Sometimes Peter still has trouble making sense of the fact that he actually spends every Friday evening and Saturday with the Tony freaking Stark in his lab, working on his or Iron man’s suit or other sustainable tech things for the future. It’s still so surreal and heckin’ weird but Peter wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. To think that the man took the time out of his already jam-packed schedule to attend something so unimportant like a parents-teacher evening at his school…
Peter doesn’t understand it.
He’s scrolling through YouTube on Ned’s phone, searching for more videos of Mr. Stark’s attendance of yesterday’s school event (and isn’t that a crazy sentence to say) when the school bell rings, spooking the two boys and reminding them that in fact, they’re still in the exact same school where that absolute mindbogglingly insane thing happened.
The two best friends share a look together, before Peter carefully opens the door of the empty classroom they’ve been hiding in and peers outside. Most of the students are already gone and Peter lets out a relieved sigh. He really, really doesn’t want to deal with so much attention at once anymore. His spidey-sense would not appreciate that.
They wait until they think the hallway is empty, before leaving the room on their tiptoes. With one last glance in both directions, Peter checks that they are truly alone and then they hurry to their first class of today, which happened to be English.
If Peter thought the students looked at him weirdly, it’s nothing compared to the way Mr. Hemmingway is watching him with a vague, starstruck expression. He even greeted him with ‘Mr. Parker’ once he entered the classroom, for heaven’s sake! And okay, fine, he can see now how it grates on Mr. Stark’s nerves that Peter outrightly refuses to call him Tony. He does it out of respect okay? Because thinking he’s on a first name base with fricking Iron man makes his brain go laggy.
It's not the only thing that’s totally weird now. Flash hasn’t even looked at him through the entirety of the lesson and Peter is thinking up ways how to thank Mr. Stark. Peter has to admit, seeing Flash and his father getting humbled like that will probably stay with him for a while, if not for the rest of his life.
Once the bell rings and signals the end of the lesson, Peter springs out of his seat and rushes outside of the room. They have a ten-minute break now and he has to know what else Mr. Stark did while he had been here, the curiosity burning in his veins almost making him go crazy during English.
He manages to watch two full videos of Mr. Stark literally bragging about Peter to other parents and it’s simply impossible for Peter to not let his lips part into a huge, toothy grin. His chest feels all fuzzy and warm and his breath hitches in his throat when he finally registers that Mr. Stark kept calling him ‘my kid’.
Peter has to bite down on his lip because the rush of happiness and warmth he feels threatens to spill over in the form of tears. He’s been hanging out with Mr. Stark long enough to have realized how the man seems to have fixed something in Peter he thought to be irreversibly broken since Uncle Ben’s death. Just as he’s come to terms with the fact that, he sometimes, accidentally refers to Mr. Stark as his ‘dad’. Of course, only in his mind! He wouldn’t be able to live down the embarrassment of that happening to the man’s face, god he would have to emigrate to Australia if that ever happens.
But now, realizing that Mr. Stark is seeing him as ‘his kid’… Yeah, Peter’s going to cry about this later.
The rest of the day goes by in a similar fashion, students and teachers alike staring at him as if he’s the eighth world wonder and acting like they’re in the presence of a saint. Peter doesn’t know how Mr. Stark handles being subjected to this all the time, although right now, he couldn’t care less.
Throughout the day, Peter had the opportunity to watch the rest of all the videos that were posted online of Mr. Stark and all the teen wants now is to hug his f- Mr. Stark as tightly as possible.
That’s what he does once Happy brought him to the tower.
“Hey Pete, heard you had an interesting day, huh”, Mr. Stark greets him with a huge smile on his face and Peter is practically sprinting at him and then throwing his arms around Mr. Stark, barely registering the ‘umpf’ the man lets out.
He just hugs him tighter, buries his face in his chest and breathes in the familiar and calming scent of motor oil around him and the expensive cologne clinging to Mr. Stark’s clothes. He feels two strong arms sling themselves around his frame and Peter feels the happiness and love practically exploding out of his chest.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark”, Peter mumbles wetly against the man’s sternum, voice coming out all squishy and unclear because his face is so smushed from his current position and the emotions running wild inside of his heart.
“Anything for you, kiddo, anything”, Mr. Stark murmurs gently and hugs him just a little tighter against him.
They hold on to each other for what feels like half an hour, until their hug gets interrupted by the angry clacking of heels against the lab floor. Peter turns around and is met with the absolute furious face of none other than Pepper Potts, staring not at him but at Mr. Stark now hiding behind Peter.
“Pep, sunshine, love of my life, for what do I owe the pleasure-“, Mr. Stark begins but it only takes Pepper narrowing her eyes at him to shut him up completely. Mr. Stark’s eyes are wide, he lets out a small, terrified sound, and he makes himself even smaller behind Peter.
“Pepper, you surely wouldn’t dare when Peter’s here-“, Mr. Stark tries again but Pepper doesn’t give him the chance to finish.
“You bet your ass I would, Stark! Care to explain why there’s a video trending of you online shouting insults at a father attending a school event?! And why I got an angry call from the SI board members that you failed to show up to the annual revenue meeting?!”
At that, Tony straightens up. “He was an asshole, he deserved-“
“I don’t care if he deserved it or not, because what I absolutely don’t deserve is having to do damage control for your bad decision making and-!”
Pepper is unrelenting in her fury and would’ve also made Peter cower but to be quite honest, it’s refreshing not being on the receiving end of getting screamed at by a scary Pepper. Well, Aunt May in his case, because Pepper has never been angry at Peter whatsoever.
So, it’s actually quite amusing to watch Mr. Stark not even getting a single word in to defend himself, just taking whatever Pepper throws at him and in the end, promising her he wouldn’t do anything the sorts ever again.
“How long do you think is your promise going to last?”, Peter asks Mr. Stark once Pepper left the two of alone again, just because it's fun teasing his mentor like that.
“Oh you, shush it. This is all because of you- I can’t believe I let myself get shouted at by my fiancée just to visit your lame school and talk with your lame teachers and-“
“Hey!”, Peter protests but he sees the amused twinkle in Mr. Stark’s eyes and knows he’s only joking. Peter fails to hold back his giggles.
“Hey what, kiddo? Huh?”, Mr. Stark asks him through his own chuckles and then ruffles Peter’s hair.
Yeah, Mr. Stark is just the best.