Chapter Text
Peter was sitting, bored, in his sixth period class. Spanish is one of Peter's worst classes, yet he could never remember to pay attention, instead thinking about his latest escapades as Spiderman. Suddenly, he could hear his name being called.
"Mr. Parker, are you still here with us?" Señora Hernandez said.
Peter jerked his head in a quick nod, and then focused on the words on the board.
"Can you then tell us the English translation of the words on the board please?" His teacher asked.
Peter gave another quick glance to the words and then responded.
"Good morning. What is your name?"
His teacher looked displeased but accepted his translation nonetheless. She turned back to teaching the rest of the class, and Peter sighed in relief. A glance to the clock showed him that he had about 10 minutes left of class. Thank god.
-
Peter rushed out of school as soon as the bell rang, his binder and notebooks hanging out of his half-zipped backpack as he raced through the halls. He passed by Flash and was soon so far from him that he couldn't even hear the insult Flash shouted as he realized Peter had passed him. He was out of the doors before most of the school. He checked to see if anyone was watching, and then jumped the fence and raced over the field to the street. Finally, he slowed down and shoved his earbuds in as soon as he got a block away from the school. He had decided that he wasn't going on patrol tonight, as Aunt May had been on his ass about it, and he had gotten a bit hurt last night. Aunt May required him to take one night off a week, so tonight would do.
He massaged his ribs, wincing as he hit a particularly sore spot. This is what he had been dreaming about in Spanish, fantasizing what would have happened if he had instead kicked the robber after he had kicked him. The robber had gotten a good kick to Peter's ribs, and Peter was paying so much attention to the pain, that he didn't notice the robber racing out of the small jewelry store with a bag of stolen goods. Not one of his finest moments. He had been thinking about it since last night, absorbed by the thoughts of what if, what if? He'd been doing this for over a year now, he should be past this.
Suddenly, Peter was pulled from his thoughts when his spidey sense went off, alerting him to the expensive black car that had been tailing him for a little while. He slowed down a bit, and so did the car. As Peter began to turn around to confront the car, it sped up and stopped in front of him.
Happy got out of the front and walked to open the door for him.
"Get in, kid. We didn't want to ambush you at school, so we followed you for a bit."
Peter climbed in and realized Mr. Stark was also present in the car, flicking through stuff on his phone in the seat in the back with Peter. He hadn't seen Mr. Stark since Aunt May had called him over and shouted at him for hours. Mr. Stark had wisely stayed clear since that fight. It had been a couple weeks, and if Peter was to be honest, he had kinda missed him. He was glad he was here, but was also worried about what Aunt May would do if she found out.
Mr. Stark seemed to read his mind, and quickly assured Peter he had already cleared everything with his aunt.
"With all the stuff that went down after the little Vulture incident, we never got to properly celebrate your victory, kid! So, I'm taking you to dinner at this little Italian restaurant that I love, and we can have a little celebration, you and me," Mr. Stark told him.
Peter's eyes went as wide as saucers as he took in what Mr. Stark was saying. Dinner? Just the two of them? If this wasn't Peter's biggest dream, he didn't know what was. And, to make it ever better, they were celebrating Peter's gigantic accomplishment!
"Uhh... this is the most awesome thing ever, Mr. Stark!! This is even better than Ned's Lego Death Star!" Peter told him excitedly.
Mr. Stark smiled at that, and then just ruffled Peter's hair. Soon, they were pulling in front of a small, but fancy Italian restaurant. Nothing too much, so they wouldn't be getting too much publicity. Happy dropped them off, then drove away as Peter and Mr. Stark entered the restaurant.
"Stark, reservation for two," the billionaire told the serving girl, who couldn't have been more than 19 and who looked like her whole life had been made because she was showing Tony Stark to his table. Peter just followed with wide, puppy dog eyes, drinking everything in.
They sat, and Mr. Stark got a Coke, while Peter got a lemonade. Then, the two began to talk as the bread and salad arrived.
"So Peter," Mr. Stark said in between bites of salad," That was a pretty ballsy thing you did a couple weeks ago. Thank you, by the way. I don't think I ever got the chance to say that to you. Because of you, all my stuff is safe and out of evil's hands."
Peter blushed and stammered out a response."Ohhh, it was no-nothing, Mr. Stark, ya know, all in a day's work and all that!"
Mr. Stark smiled and took another bite of his salad.
"It wasn't nothing, kid. You've got the purest heart out of every superhero I know, and I know enough to fill the entirety of Queens. That was an amazing thing you did back there, and I'm sorry that I took away your suit- your best method of protection."
Mr. Stark grimaced at that last part, but quickly schooled his expression.
"All I'm saying, kid, is that you deserve that spot on the Avengers more than any of us do. But you did the right thing, you know, turning it down. I'm proud of you, kid."
Peter blushed and said a quick "thank you".
"Now, tell me all about what you're doing in science and on the Decathlon team."
-
Peter had absolutely adored dinner. First of all, the actual food was amazing. It was the best Italian food Peter had ever had (no offense, May), and Peter had been sure to tell Mr. Stark that. The billionaire had just laughed and asked Peter if he wanted some dessert. Second of all, it was so awesome that Mr. Stark had actually cared to hear about Peter's life. He had been attentive the entire time Peter had rambled and had asked questions and seemed to like hearing about Peter's boring school life. Lastly, it was just so cool to hang out with Mr. Stark when it was just the two of them.
Peter had started to feel tired as soon as they had left the restaurant. Now, they were in the back of Mr. Stark's Audi, with Happy in the front, screen up. Peter had been trying to pay attention to what Mr. Stark was saying, but he hadn't caught maybe the last minute (or three) of their conversation.
"Peter, hey, Peter," Mr. Stark said as he shook him awake,"It's okay if you're tired. Try to rest, okay? God knows you don't do enough at home."
Peter just mumbled sleepily, then plopped his head on Mr. Stark's shoulder. He was too tired to be embarrassed.
-
Tony had just told the kid to get some rest when the kid dropped the biggest bomb on Tony ever.
"Thanks for tonight, Dad. This was the best thing that happened to me all week."
Then he dropped his head on Tony's shoulder. Tony tensed, but then relaxed and started to run his fingers through Peter's hair.
Peter had mumbled it sleepily though, and he probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning, but the fact that he had said that meant so much to Tony. Tony was trying so hard with this kid, and this just showed him that the kid was appreciating it. Tony was determined to be there for Peter more often, to talk to him more, pick him up from school, help with science and math, do just about anything for the kid. The incident with the Vulture had terrified Tony more than he let on- he just felt so damn guilty and relieved at the same time. Guilty that he had taken the suit from Peter, and relieved the kid was still alive. So now, Tony was more committed than ever to believe in the kid and help him achieve his dreams.
"FRIDAY?" He asked his A.I."Can you save the audio recording of the conversation we held a few moments ago?"
"Sure, boss," the A.I responded.
Tony smiled, and wrapped an arm around Peter. This kid was going to be the death of him, but he would enjoy the ride.