Archive of Our Own ^beta

baby proof protocol

how it begins…

“Pete, meet Dr. Bruce Banner,” Mr. Stark said cheerily, a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Brucie-bear, this kid’s a big fan, so if he faints, for the love of God, please don’t Hulk out.”

Dr. Banner snorted and rolled his eyes a little at Mr. Stark, and Peter felt like he was ready to fall to the ground and bow down to both of his idols, standing happily in front of him. “Hi, Peter, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He stuck out his hand for Peter to shake, which Peter slowly grabbed.

Peter, who’d been speechless since the moment Mr. Stark told him he’d be meeting Dr. Banner 10 minutes prior, jolted out of his awe. “You’ve heard a lot about me? I’ve heard so much about you! Not from Mr. Stark, well, from him too, but mostly from, like, the internet, because I’m obsessed with you! Like, with your work, I mean, your research? The sh-I mean, stuff you’ve done in, uh, molecular engineering is, like, insane. I literally read your reports for fun, and I’m pretty much famous on my Academic Decathlon team for how much random shit I know about all of your studies, and, oh my God, this is literally such an honor, you’re so fucking awesome.”

Mr. Stark laughed, wide eyed and almost as bubbly as Peter. “Jeez, kid, language,” he scolded weakly. “And give the man a minute to breathe, please, don’t scare him.”

Peter blushed red and deep all over, but Dr. Banner smiled sweetly at him, if not a little overwhelmed. “Um, wow, Peter, that’s really nice of you to say.” Something shone in his eyes and Peter couldn’t help but keep rambling like a maniac.

“I know Hulk is super popular, which is cool, ‘cause he’s so cool, but you’re, like, the coolest, you know? There’s this unofficial Banner Fan Club at my school, ‘cause we’re a science school, so it’s formally known as the Biochemistry Research Club, but really, all we do is read your reports and stuff. We’re currently trying to recreate the experiment you did on soil remediation as it applies to-”

“-Peter!” Mr. Stark interrupted, but both he and Dr. Banner looked tenderly at the teenager, who was practically vibrating in excitement.

“Wasn’t that one so cool?” Dr. Banner gushed, and Peter’s embarrassment faded back into his youthful hero worship. “M-most people, uh, really like the Hulk. He’s probably pissed I’m going to say this, but, uh, it’s really nice to hear that there are people out there who, um, like me .”

Peter smiled knowingly, because Mr. Stark had that same crisis more times than Peter could count. Hell, even Peter felt that way; you can imagine the anger that bubbled inside of him when he saw his #1 tormentor and bully wearing a Spider-Man shirt to school one day.

Mr. Stark took the split second of silence to but in. “Uh, Bruce, the kid’s got some fucked up DNA that I think you’d want to take a look at. He was bit by a spider.”

Dr. Banner’s eyes lit up and he almost broke his neck whipping around to stare at Peter. “Are you Spider-Man?” He asked gleefully.

Peter laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, uh, I am.”

Dr. Banner beamed. “You don’t even know how badly I want to look at your DNA. I have to know, are you really sticky, or is it the suit?” He put a hand on the shoulder where Mr. Stark’s wasn’t, and pulled Peter into him and down the hall, towards the lab. Mr. Stark chuckled in amusement at the two, fully aware they’d get along like a house on fire.

And, if, by the end of the night, Peter and Dr. Banner were both banned from entering Mr. Stark’s private lab without supervision - well, Peter couldn’t be all that embarrassed.

monday.

“Peter,” Ned’s voice cut through Peter’s mind like a knife. “Where the fuck were you today?”

Peter blushed, and rolled his eyes. “Hello to you, too, Ned, good to know you were worried for me. Yes, my day’s been lovely, thank you for asking, and how about yours?”

Ned huffed, but Peter knew he was mostly trying not to laugh. “Sorry, dude, you just never miss school and I knew you couldn’t be sick ‘cause of the bite, so I was… confused. Did you skip? I never would’ve thought May would let you skip! She’s so cool.” Ned trailed off in a bashful sigh and Peter glared at the ceiling in amusement. Stupid Ned and his stupid crush on Aunt May , he thought.

“No, I’m sick,” Peter chuckled. “I never thought I’d be sick again, but, honest to God, I’ve been sick all weekend. I thought it’d pass through in, like, 40 minutes, but it’s been 2 days so...I think I’m going to be sick like a normal person.”

Ned gasped. “Dude… dude, that’s so cool. Why is that so cool? Ugh.” His voice sounded a little bit strangled, so Peter sat up in alarm. “Why are you so cool?” He whined.

“Ned, dude, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?” He asked, but he’d already rolled off of his bed and started pulling off his Hello Kitty pajamas. “I’ll come over right now.”

Peter knew, by the muffled vibration through the phone, that Ned shook his head. Ned sighed a little, and said, “No, Peter, it’s okay, I’m okay.” He sniffled, and Peter hummed, waiting patiently for Ned to continue, even as he struggled to step into his jeans. “I-uh, it’s been a long day. MJ was absent too, so I was all alone with… with Flash.” Peter sighed knowingly and frowned, tears threatening to well up in his eyes. He blinked rapidly to calm them down.

“Dude…” He said, sympathy inkling into his voice. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you ahead of time. I’m really sorry, Ned, d-do you want to come over? Do you want me to come over?”

Ned hesitated. “Uh, yeah. I’ll come over. You sure that’s okay?” Peter told him hastily that, of course it’s okay, and he could hear the smile in Ned’s voice when he responded. “You’re the best, Peter. I think I just missed you. I’m too dependent on you.”

Peter laughed. “Dude, I’ve been so lonely all day. All I could do was think about how badly I wished I wasn’t sick so I could tell you all about my Saturday patrol.”

Ned snorted. “Well, tell me when I get there. I’m walking out off the bus now at your stop, so I’m like, 5 minutes away. I’ve got to tell you something, too. Oh, and I brought your homework!”

Peter sighed tenderly. “Ned, you’re the greatest. What would I do without you?”

“Probably die, I guess.”

“Harty har,” Peter teased, “I’ll see you when you get here?”

“Yup,” Ned said, “I’ll see you then,” and hung up. Peter allowed himself 30 seconds to flop backwards on his bed and close his eyes. His headache subsided as soon as darkness enveloped him, and he frowned. Why me? He thought dramatically, What’s the point of being bit by radioactive spiders if they’re not even going to fuck with your immune system?

He slid to the floor lazily and reached for a new shirt. The one he’d been wearing, a weird World’s Best Grandfather! shirt he got from the thrift store, was smelly and wrinkled after being worn for two whole days. He pulled the dirty shirt off, and picked up a clean one that read, You had me at your proper use of the word “you’re”, and hustled off to the bathroom in hopes of brushing his teeth before Ned arrived. While he was brushing his teeth - yes , to the tune of Staying Alive, because he still had the singing toothbrush Ben got him as a joke and he was too scared to throw it away - he struggled to tame the mop of curls on his head. All he could do was mentally thank Aunt May for forcing him to shower that morning because his hair had apparently been disgusting.

Before he was even finished brushing his teeth, there was a familiar knock at the door. His phone chimed at him, the screen flashing with a text from Ned reading, i’m here lemme iiiinnnnn! Peter snorted, just a little, spit out in the sink and called out, “I’m coming!” As quickly as he could, he rinsed his mouth out and hurried down the hall, entirely foregoing throwing on his shirt.

He swung the door open with a huge smile on his face, and said, only a little breathless, “Hey!”

Ned grinned, and as his eyes darted down, traveling across Peter’s collarbone and over his chest, his smile faltered just slightly. Peter noticed, and could distantly hear Ned’s heartbeat spike, but shook it off as a fluke. “Ugh, sorry,” he blushed. “I was brushing my teeth.” He waved Ned inside and threw on his t-shirt. “What’d you want to tell me?” He asked, turning his head over his shoulder to peek at his best friend.

“Uh, it’s going to make you super pissed off, so do you want to tell me about patrol first?”

Peter frowned as the two of them walked into Peter’s room. Ned flopped on Peter’s bed, and as Peter bent to sit on the floor, crossing his legs together, he said, “Well, now I really want to know what it is. Who cares about patrol? It’s the same shit every time.”

Ned rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. “I mean, I care about patrol, but go off I guess.” He shrugged. “And - okay, maybe you won’t be mad, but, I’on know, I think you will be.” Peter gestured wildly for him to continue, and Ned agreed. “So,” he inhaled, reaching over to hand Peter a piece of paper, “Mr. Lewis is taking us on a field trip. To Stark Tower.”

The first thing that came to mind was, Mr. Lewis’ ridiculous obsession with Mr. Stark  really came to bite me in the ass, huh? The second thing was, Why’d I even take an Economics class? The third thing was the only one he voiced aloud. Turning to Ned, he said, “Well, fuck.”

Ned only laughed at him.

wednesday.

The following Wednesday, Peter was finally well enough to go to school, meaning he was also well enough to go to Mr. Stark’s afterwards. Generally, Wednesday’s and Friday’s - his lab days - were his favorite days of the week. He’d skip patrol on these days, per request of Aunt May, and head over to the Stark Tower instead, working on the suit and a variety of other projects with Mr. Stark himself. However, during this particular week, he wasn’t full of so much childlike wonder; instead, his excitement was clouded by the nerves settling low in his stomach whenever he thought about that stupid, fucking field trip to Stark fucking Tower .

The day passed thickly, as if it were fossilized and in slow motion, and Peter spent all of his 3rd, 4th, and 5th periods anxious to get the hell out of there. His legs tapped mercilessly, and Mr. Lewis bit his tongue after the second time scolding him for it. The second the last bell rang, Peter jumped to his feet and sprinted out the classroom, through the school doors, and faltered as soon as he made it to the parking lot. He lifted himself on his toes and traced his eyes over the sea of cars, looking for the familiar, bright orange Audi. As soon as he saw Happy’s car, he bounced on his heels and scrambled off towards his ride.

“Hey, Happy!” He said, as cheerful as he was breathless with nerves.

“Hey, kid,” Happy grumbled, but didn’t pull up the partition. After a few months of driving Peter around, he no longer ignored the kid as soon as he got in the car, and would usually wait for at least 20 minutes.

Peter didn’t ramble like he normally did; he didn’t start talking about his day, or how mean MJ was to him, or whatever random shit was going on with Ned. Evidently, he should’ve, because after a full minute of uncomfortable and heavy silence between the two, Happy interrupted his thoughts. “Okay, you haven’t said a word since you got in. What the hell’s going on? Is it that kid? Is he bothering you again?”

Peter bit down a smile. Aw, he cares , he thought to himself, despite all of his whining . “I mean, he’s always bothering me,” Peter laughed, a little bitter, but Happy didn’t react with anything other than a quirked brow. “Uh, nothing, though,” Peter hesitated, “I-I’m just nervous. I have to ask Mr. Stark about something today that’s been on my mind, and, uh, I’m kind of freaking out.”

“What is it?” Happy asked, his worried tone a stark contrast to his blank face. “Want to practice on me?”

Peter smiled, soft and fond. “It’s okay, thank you, Happy. I just, uh… my school is going on a field trip to Stark Tower next Monday. I can’t decide if I want to ask Mr. Stark to be absent and leave me alone, or just warn him that I’ll be there.”

Happy faltered for a moment, but collected himself quickly. “Up to you, kid, but I’m sure he’ll respect whatever you ask of him. He’ll chill with the dad stuff if you want.”

“Thanks, Happy,” Peter said, a pink blush spreading like wildfire across his freckled cheeks.

The rest of the drive was silent, but the quiet was much lighter than before.

When Peter arrived, he tumbled out of the car, yelling his thanks to Happy over his shoulder. He rushed through inside and into the elevator. As soon as he stumbled through the elevator’s doors, FRIDAY welcomed him sweetly. He didn’t even pretend not to smile at her familiar Irish lilt. Basking in the gentle sounds of whirring that settled all around him, he allowed himself a moment to plan out what he was going to say to Mr. Stark. He knew, logically, that if he were to ask Mr. Stark to avoid the Midtown tour group, his request would be welcomed and validated. He also knew if he were to do that, Ned would be simultaneously forgiving and horrendously disappointed. He sighed in that realization; he knew what he had to do.

“Hey, Pete!” Mr. Stark called out from underneath whatever weird engine thing he was working on. “How’s it going? How was school?”

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter smiled, sitting on the work bench next to Mr. Stark and curling his legs up underneath himself. “It was pretty good, uh, I aced that Spanish quiz I told you about. And MJ was really nice today, she only called me a loser, like, once.”

Mr. Stark chuckled. “God, I still don’t understand how you two are friends if both Rhodey and Happy only know her as ‘Scary MJ’ . That’s literally what you call her.” Peter shrugged, but didn’t respond, and a blanket of awkwardness settled over the two of them. Knowingly, Mr. Stark rolled out and sat up slightly on his elbows, staring at Peter inquisitively. “What’s going on? You’re too quiet.”

Peter huffed. “Why is it that whenever I’m quiet, everyone acts like I’m dying?”

“Huh, maybe because you’re the most talkative person known to man?” Peter rolled his eyes and squirmed uncomfortably. Mr. Stark pointed at him, “A-ha! Look at how nervous you are, there is something going on. What’s up? Talk to me.”

Peter blushed and sighed, looking down at his hands, which were tugging at the loose threads of his ripped jeans. He could tell Mr. Stark was biting back a snarky comment about how Peter, I can afford to get you new pants if you guys are struggling , so he took the opportunity to fill the silence. “I have a request.”

“Oh?” Well, now Mr. Stark’s really interested. “Do tell,” he encouraged.

“I-uh, on Monday, I’m coming o-on a, uh, field trip. Here. To Stark Tower. With my school.”

A million emotions flashed over Mr. Stark’s face. At first, he was visibly intrigued as to why Peter would mention it to him; then, realization dawned on him, and a cheesy smile hugged his lips; then, he was confused again, and trying to bite down his grin. “Uh, okay?” Mr. Stark decided to say. “Cool?”

Peter stifled his nervous laugh - whenever he was nervous, he laughed like a 4 year old girl, and he was fully aware Mr. Stark would tease him for it until the day one of them died. “Um, are you going to be here on Monday?”

Mr. Stark’s face formed an O. “Um, I can be?” He responded, and Peter smiled.

“I was just wondering, um, ‘cause Ned is so jealous that I hang out here a lot, since you’re, like, our childhood hero, as you know, and, uh, I was wondering if you could, I’on know, say hi to our class? And, if, like, afterwards, Ned and I could geek out over my suit?”

Peter pretended not to notice the tenderness that flittered over Mr. Stark’s face. Fondly, Mr. Stark responded, “Yeah, Pete, of course. Yes to all of it.”

“Dope,” Peter responded, and now he’s fucking awkward, of course , but Mr. Stark didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he simply invited Peter over to look at the engine he was working on, and Peter didn’t hesitate to agree.

After a beat of silence, Mr. Stark added on, “Bruce is going to be here Monday, too. He gets back from that convention on Saturday. Think maybe you’d want to science with him this weekend?”

Peter couldn’t bother to pretend his heart wasn’t doing somersaults in his chest at the thought of spending time with Dr. Banner. All the two of them ever did was test out Peter’s powers; Dr. Banner was basically as excited as Ned was about the whole Spider-Man thing, only he was a million times smarter than both Ned and Peter combined, so he found joy in the science part of it more so than the superhero part. Still, their time together was awesome; Ned was almost more jealous of Peter for being tight with Dr. Banner than he was for Mr. Stark - almost .

saturday.

Peter spent the whole drive to the tower Friday afternoon jittery and riled up.

Happy teased him for it mercilessly, of course, and never actually ended up closing the partition until Peter started humming some Beyoncé song over 30 minutes into the drive. Of course, this allowed Peter to pull out his phone and rapidly text Ned, who was obsessing over the new season of Queer Eye being released on Netflix. He smiled bashfully at his phone, and hid his blush behind his hand. Happy glanced at him through the glass, but, thank God , didn’t comment on Peter’s flushed cheeks.

When Peter arrived at the tower, he and Mr. Stark spent hours together in the lab. By 7:00, Ms. Potts had to drag them out and practically force feed them. After dinner, because Peter was, surprisingly enough, genuinely exhausted, the three of them turned on a movie instead - some old one that Peter hadn’t seen before. As the night grew later and the room grew quieter, Peter tucked himself in closer to Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts. By the time the movie ended, Peter’s feet were squashed beneath Mr. Stark’s thigh, and he’d loosely wrapped himself around Mr. Stark’s torso. Ms. Pott’s was on the other side of Mr. Stark, taking sneaky pictures Peter pretended not to know about - Mr. Stark was, however, notably oblivious to it.

Cutting through the silence, just after Mr. Stark started the next movie, Ms. Potts said, “So, are you excited for Monday? Tony told me you’ve got a field trip. Here.”

Peter blushed and smiled at his feet. “Uh, yeah, I’m excited, I guess. I’ve spent this whole week fully preparing to be embarrassed by the other interns a-and Mr. Stark, so I’m ready or whatever.”

Mr. Stark chuckled. “You know, I told you I’d leave you alone if you wanted me to. You gave me permission to come say hi to you.”

“Yeah, but, like,” Peter huffed, “only because Ned will destroy me if he finds out I didn’t want to let you two interact. And I don’t, by the way - you two are the worst.”

Ms. Potts laughed. “Okay, boys,” she rolled her eyes, “cool it. Peter, honey, are you sure you’re okay with Tony popping in? I’ll hold him off if you want me to.”

He faltered for a moment, but shook his head politely. “Thank you, Ms. Potts, really, but it’s alright. Maybe the kids at school will finally believe I have an internship here if Mr. Stark is all weird and dad-ish on Monday.”

Because he did have an internship; after a while, probably somewhere around the time Peter made it into the top 10% of his class in literally every science subject, and earned Gold in Academic Decathlon in every subject, Mr. Stark put in the paperwork to actually hire Peter as a personal intern. Peter was ecstatic, of course, and Ned lost his mind; his best friend was not only Spider-Man, but also shadowed Tony fucking Stark on Monday’s, Wednesday’s, Friday’s, and weekends. Of course, Peter wasn’t like the other interns, as they had to go home after work, but Peter generally just spent the night there - except for Monday and Wednesday nights.

Peter was, unsurprisingly, pretty popular amongst the other interns; well, unsurprisingly to anyone who knows Peter, but it did surprise Peter pretty well when he realized there were interns actually fighting to work with him. His best friends at work, Gwen and Harry, were also the only interns made aware that Peter would be touring Stark Tower on Monday, and they were constantly arguing about who would be the tour guide. Peter had been thinking about just having both of them do it, but he knew, deep down, that that would result in a lot of pain for himself. However, he also knew both of them would adore Ned and MJ, so he - for whatever reason - kind of hoped they’d both appear that Monday. Peter couldn’t help but think, Maybe Flash will actually believe me now .

Friday night continued as it always did. After the second movie, Ms. Potts forced Peter to go to bed, citing the fact that he was a growing mutant baby , despite Peter’s protests. She gave him a big hug, and Mr. Stark walked him down the hall. Peter made some snarky comment about please don’t have sex too loud, ‘cause I do have that hearing thing , and Mr. Stark smacked him upside the head for it. Goodnight , Mr. Stark said, his voice all tender and paternal, and Peter’s guts felt like goo. Night , Peter said too, and ducked into his bedroom. Later that night, when Peter woke up from a nightmare, he squeezed his eyes shut, and pretended he didn’t know Mr. Stark was sitting on the edge of his bed, a warm, calloused hand detangling the unruly mop on Peter’s head. He let himself fall back asleep.

Saturday morning came sweetly. Peter woke up to birds chirping and the sun rising through his windows; FRIDAY would always lift the screen as the night faded away, per Peter’s request. Absently, Peter could smell bacon sizzling downstairs and across the tower; he could hear Ms. Potts talking to Mr. Stark too, and just barely, he was able to make out what they were saying. For a while, they were talking about stock and meetings and other shit Peter didn’t really care about, but he jolted awake when their conversation transpired into something much more interesting.

Bruce is on his way over . Mr. Stark’s voice rumbled all around Peter’s bedroom. I think he missed Peter, honestly.

Well, you miss Peter too, whenever he’s not around, Ms. Potts teased Mr. Stark, and Peter bit down his fond smile as he struggled to put on his clothes.

I’m allowed to miss our child, Future Missus . Peter could imagine Mr. Stark waving around his spatula like he always did, how he gesticulated dramatically in every situation.

Speaking of which… Ms. Potts began, but Peter no longer could hear the two of them, as their hushed voices became muffled by his toothbrush - no, it’s not the singing toothbrush, he has another at Mr. Stark’s place, thank you very much.

As soon as Peter finished brushing his teeth and attempting to tame his hair, he dashed down the hall and into the elevator to go one floor down. “Morning, FRIDAY!” He chirped, and he wondered if AI could smile.

“Good morning, Peter. The high today will be 56 ° Fahrenheit, 13° Celsius. There is an 80% chance of rain between the hours of 2:00 PM and 4:00 PM. The AQI is ranked Moderate 79; persons who are unusually sensitive to ozone or particle pollution are at risk.” She rattled off the morning data, as she was programmed to do. “How did you sleep, Peter?”

He grinned. “I slept pretty well, FRIDAY, and you?”

“I didn’t sleep,” she said, like Peter didn’t know as much. “But I did enjoy the silence while you slept.”

“You know, FRIDAY, that wasn’t your best roast, but it was a good attempt,” Peter remarked just as the elevator doors opened.

“I’ve learned from the best, Peter,” she responded, and Mr. Stark peered over his shoulder to wave Peter over.

“Morning, Pete,” Mr. Stark smiled at him and slid a plate piled high with food in front of Peter. “Please, eat, or your aunt will have me arrested for child endangerment.” Peter rolled his eyes, but proceeded to stuff his face anyway.

Mr. Stark was actually a good cook - apparently, after college, Colonel Rhodes sort of forced Mr. Stark to learn, and, amazingly enough, Mr. Stark caught on pretty quickly. Peter could vaguely remember Mr. Stark telling him once that his mother would have him help out in the kitchen when he was younger. Peter’s favorite parts of every weekend was Mr. Stark making breakfast for him and Ms. Potts, even if it would always incite some awkward conversation with Ms. Potts about how Peter was only to marry someone who was, “a capable adult fully prepared to survive on their own with or without a spouse, and does not entirely rely on you for food or clean clothes,” while Mr. Stark would hum his agreement.

Peter let them both ramble and parent him, even if May had told him the same thing too.

“So, Peter, I hear Bruce is coming back today. Are you excited to see him?” Ms. Potts asked conversationally.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, but cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat. “I mean, yes ,” he corrected and glared at Mr. Stark, who was snickering in amusement. “I’m excited. It’s been, like, two whole weeks without my science dad, so. I missed him.”

“Your science dad ?” Mr. Stark asked teasingly, but Peter noted the offense written on his face.

Peter rolled his eyes a little. “It’s just what Ned calls him. And then forced me to call him. And now Dr. Banner knows about it, and he thinks it’s funny, so I kind of have to continue calling him that.”

Ms. Potts laughed at Peter. “I’m glad you have a science dad, honey. I’m sure your other nerd dad is only a little bit hurt by it.”

“You have another nerd dad?” Mr. Stark whipped his head around to stare at Peter, who hid his blushed behind shoveling more food into his mouth.

“Dude, she was clearly talking about you,” Peter said around his bacon.

“Gross, Pete, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mr. Stark scolded and threw a napkin at him.

Ms. Potts sighed. “He’s right, I was clearly talking about you.” Mr. Stark shrugged casually, like he didn’t really care, but Peter knew he did, and he knew Ms. Potts knew it too.

“Whatever,” Mr. Stark mumbled, almost like a whine, and Ms. Potts bit down whatever snarky comment she’d been tempted to say.

After breakfast, Mr. Stark and Peter made their way downstairs to the R&D laboratories. The whole way down, Peter was, for some godforsaken reason, trying to spark a debate with Mr. Stark about which Avengers could make the most money as sex workers. Mr. Stark could only sigh.

“No, dude, for real. Thor could get it . He’d be rich. He’d be swimming in money, he-he’d be as famous as, like, Cardi B. I’m so for real right now, there is no Avenger that could compete.”

Mr. Stark huffed. “I don’t know if I should be jealous of your little crush on Point Break, or be glad that you don’t have one on Capsicle.”

“I absolutely do have one on Captain America,” Peter corrected, “but I’m still pissed off at him for all the shit he did to you, so that crush is not thriving these days.”

“Language,” Mr. Stark blurted out mindlessly, instinctively, and before Peter could respond, the elevator wheeled open. “Oh, fucking finally ,” Mr. Stark whined, dashing out of the elevator.

“ Language ,” Peter mocked in a high pitched voice, but followed close behind Mr. Stark’s heels anyway. “What are we working on today, Mr. Stark?”

“I thought we could work with the other nerds on that renewable energy project we’ve been talking about,” he responded, “I’ve got some ideas to bounce off of the Dork Lord Squad.”

The two of them made their way into the R&D labs, only to be met face to face with the bright, suspicious grins of Harry and Gwen. “Uh…?” Peter looked at them, while confusion shone in his wide eyes. “You two look like you’re planning something. I don’t like it.”

“So, you’ve got the 9 AM tour on Monday, don’t you?” Gwen asked, a smirk dancing across her features. When Peter nodded warily, she continued, “Harry and I are actually working on Monday.”

“So I’ve been told…” Peter shrugged nervously.

“Mr. Stark gave us permission to be your tour guides!” Harry blurted out, and Peter jolted, whipped around to glare at Mr. Stark, who shook his head animatedly.

“I didn’t know you wouldn’t want them to be your guide! I thought you’d have more fun! You want them to meet Ned, don’t you?”

Peter snorted and shook his head. “It’s fine,” he relented, “it’ll be fun.” He turned to smile at Gwen and Harry. “But, if you embarrass me, I will destroy you.” They both just rolled their eyes.

The next hour or so was spent with the four of them and one other intern, Cassidy, crouched under a prototype for a 100% renewable energy car engine that Mr. Stark was working on. The four interns all provided criticism and commentary on Mr. Stark’s design - which was, in Peter’s opinion, pretty fucking cool. After almost two hours, Mr. Stark was called away by Ms. Potts, and the interns were, unfortunately, left to their own devices. At this time, a very stupid, very bad idea popped into Peter’s head, which he - due to his lack of filter - voiced to his coworkers.

“Hey, what if we programmed the Roomba to, like, FRIDAY?”

“Like, plugged FRIDAY into the Roomba?” Harry asked with a quirked brow. Peter nodded. “Why the hell would we do that, Peter?”

He shrugged, but before he could respond, Cassidy spoke. “Actually, it’d be kind of funny for FRIDAY to be, uh, like, mobile? You know?” Gwen and Peter nodded gleefully, and Harry sighed.

“I-uh, I… I guess. You sure Mr. Dad is going to be okay with it?” He asked Peter, who huffed and nodded. “Then, yeah, fine, whatever. Let’s do it.” The other three cut him off with excited, childish cheering, which he pretended not to smile at.

And so, another hour passed Peter by sweetly; this one filled to the brim with the pinnacle of “ dumb smart people” , who were devastatingly invested in the concept of an AI Roomba - Gwen wanted to call it the FRoomba, as in FRIDAY’s Roomba. Peter and Cassidy just let it happen, despite Harry’s albeit weak protests. Just as they were beginning to pull apart the Roomba’s circuit board, they were interrupted by a familiar voice at the door.

“Hey, wha- whoa. What on earth are you guys doing?” Peter yelped and jumped into the air in his surprise.

“Dr. Banner!” Peter cheered, prompting the other interns to join in. “Oh my gosh, you’ve been gone for so long!” Dr. Banner smiled and held his arms out for Peter, who gladly accepted. Cassidy, Gwen and Harry all followed behind Peter, latching themselves onto the beaming Dr. Banner. Peter rested his head against Dr. Banner’s chest, and felt himself relax to the tune of Dr. Banner’s heartbeat. Distantly, he noticed Harry’s forehead tucked into the crook of his shoulder, and Gwen’s face against his hair, and Cassidy’s fingers tightened around his wrist, and everything felt okay.

The serenity was interrupted by the smell of something burning wafting up Peter’s nose.

Immediately, he leaped away, his spider-sense sending sparks down his spine and up his arms and legs. Everyone else spun around to look down at the floor, where the Roomba was smoking and, noticeably, had begun to catch aflame.

“Oh, fuck! ” Peter gasped, leaping into action. He made his way to the fire extinguisher, and hastily sprayed the Roomba down. “I must’ve sparked the wires together when I jumped,” he explained as soon as the vacuum was no longer visibly on fire.

“What the hell did I miss?” Mr. Stark’s voice rang out. “Brucie-bear, I leave you alone with my interns for one minute and you set the lab on fire?”

“I just got here,” Dr. Banner said, lifting his hands in surrender.

“It was Peter,” Gwen offered, pointing an accusatory finger at her friend.

“Snitch,” Peter hissed, and Mr. Stark rolled his eyes.

“Kid, again? Really?” Sighing, he turned to look at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, initiate Baby Proof Protocol. Peter isn’t allowed to be in the labs without an adult.”

“I’m an adult, I’m 18,” Harry reminded Mr. Stark.

“FRIDAY, make that an adult over the age of 20.”

“What about the others?” Peter whined, and Mr. Stark only shrugged.

“Gwen said it was you. I’m choosing to believe her. Harry, Cassidy, was it Peter?”

They both nodded, but it was Cassidy who spoke. “It was an accident, though.”

“Isn’t it always?” Mr. Stark teased, and Peter bit his tongue in order to stop himself from cursing in the way he so desperately wanted to.

“God, I hate that stupid Baby Proof Protocol,” was all Peter said instead.

The Baby Proof Protocol was established almost immediately after the first time Dr. Banner and Peter tested on Peter in the lab. They’d been doing a strength test, wherein Dr. Banner concluded Peter was at least 5000 times stronger than the average man, when Peter accidentally threw a huge hammer onto the ceiling, straight into the fire safety sprinklers. Of course, Mr. Stark had managed to walk in at this exact moment, and both FRIDAY and Dr. Banner tattled on Peter; thus, the Baby Proof Protocol was born. It restricts Peter from certain rooms and floors directly through his clearance level.

In a moment of weakness, Peter remembered that every individual’s clearance level is read aloud by FRIDAY whenever a tour group passes through security. Internally, he groaned, and realized that FRIDAY would say, Peter Parker, Clearance Level: Baby Proof .

God, he thought to himself, I really do hate that stupid Baby Proof Protocol.

monday.

“Hey, Penis!” Flash yelled across the schoolyard. “Excited for the trip to Stark Tower? I’m mostly just excited to see your dumb face when everyone finds out you really were lying about your internship there.”

Peter rolled his eyes, and Ned laid a friendly hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Ignore him,” Ned whispered, but Peter was never much of a rule-follower.

“Flash,” Peter started, but hesitated, “I am excited for the field trip. Thanks for asking.” Flash huffed and glared at Peter.

“Whatever,” Flash said. “See you on the bus, Penis.”

Peter frowned and plopped onto the stairs outside of the school. Ned sat next to him and rested his hand sweetly on Peter’s thigh. Peter tried not to think too much about how heavy it was.

“Don’t worry, dude,” Ned told him. “He’s just jealous. You know that, right?”

Peter shrugged, but, yeah , deep down, he kind of did know it. “I guess,” he mumbled.

“You’re, like, a million times smarter than him, and you have his dream job, and you got really hot after the spider bite. He’s seriously just stupid jealous.”

“Oh, I got really hot after the bite, did I?” Peter teased, and wrote off the blush seeping over Ned’s cheeks as the one he got when something he said came out the wrong way. “Thank you,” he added, because he didn’t say it enough.

“That’s what, uh, friends are for, right?” Ned either didn’t hear the bite in the way he said friends , or he just ignored it. Either way, Peter chose not to comment on it.

“Okay, class!” Mr. Lewis clapped his hands, grabbing the attention of the thirty or so students who were gathered haphazardly outside of Midtown’s front doors. “Good morning to you all,” he smiled, and surprisingly, didn’t falter when the collective mumblings of good morning, Mr. Lewis came out weak and tired. “Thank you all for being here this early on a Monday. I’m well aware none of you were particularly excited to arrive at school an hour early, but the drive upstate to Stark Tower is almost an hour long, and we wanted to give you a little time to relax before our tour began.”

“So, I’ll call out role,” he continued, “I just need to hear that you’re present. On your way into the bus, hand me your signed permission slip, or you will not be allowed on the bus.”

As he started calling out names, Ned turned back to Peter. “You excited? Is Mr. Stark going to leave you alone?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugged. “I told him he could come say hi. I think he really wanted to, and I knew you’d want him to, so I said it was alright. But I am kind of excited. Just, really nervous too.”

Ned beamed at Peter. “You’re such a good best friend. What would I do without you?”

“Probably die, I guess,” Peter mocked Ned from the week prior, who was, as expected, unfazed by Peter’s sass.

They were interrupted by Ned’s name being called out, and close behind him was Peter’s. Soon after, Mr. Lewis instructed them to form a single file line, and hand him their passes on the way in. As Flash walked up to cut in front of Ned and Peter, he turned and whispered, “Hey Fatso and Penis. It’d sure be a shame if you two got stuck sitting in front of me, huh?”

Ned tried to conceal his whine, but he only did so enough that Flash couldn’t hear; it rung loud and clear in Peter’s ear.

“You losers sitting with anyone?” MJ asked, prompting Peter and Ned to yelp.

“Uh, no?” Peter said, but it was more of a question. “Unless… you want to sit with us?”

MJ shrugged. “Sure, that way I have a better chance of drawing Flash when he realizes you weren’t lying about the whole internship.” Peter grinned and nodded.

“Happy to know you’re here for all the right reasons, MJ,” Ned smiled.

“Happy to help,” MJ winked as she poked at Peter’s back, nudging him to hand the paper to Mr. Lewis, who smiled at the three of them.

The bus ride was long and uneventful, by Peter’s standards. Flash only managed to hit Ned and Peter with one spitball each, and made a beautifully minimal amount of Penis Parker jokes. Mostly, he was on his phone or talking to his other goons, which Peter was exceptionally grateful for. The drive was mostly full of Peter and Ned planning their post-tour afternoon, seeing as they’d been given permission to stay at the tower after the field trip, rather than returning to school. Due to this, Peter was stuck between working on his suit with Ned and Mr. Stark, experimenting on himself with Ned and Dr. Banner, or trying to find a way to do both.

“You could probably do the suit first. That’s more reliable on a time crunch than the experiment would be,” MJ butted in, and Peter frowned.

“You’re such an eavesdropper,” he scolded, but there wasn’t a trace of anger in his tone.

“You did tell me I could sit here,” she pointed out, and Peter relented, shrugging.

Soon after, the bus pulled up in front of the tower; here’s where the day really begins.

Waiting outside to greet Midtown were the two grinning, familiar faces Peter knew as Gwen and Harry. Immediately, Ned jolted and knowingly asked, “Is that them?” Peter nodded and grimaced.

“Oh, that’s them, alright,” he sighed, but more so out of anxiety than out of annoyance.

“Welcome, Midtown School of Science and Technology, to the Stark Tower!” Harry was the first of the two to greet Peter’s school.

“I’m Gwen, and this is Harry. We’ll be your tour guides for the day!” Gwen’s voice, sugary and genuine, prompted many of the students to smile back at the guides.

“First thing’s first, we need to hand out your entrance passes. To make it easy on us, we’ve got a big box of passes right here-” Harry patted the box in his arms- “that you can just take your pass out of. It’s got your name on it, so come on up quietly and rummage around ‘till you’ve got it.”

“Single file line, please!” Mr. Lewis instructed, and the students begrudgingly agreed.

“While that’s going on, let me explain the clearance levels to y’all,” Gwen started. “In simple terms, there are three levels of clearance: gold, silver, and bronze. Of course, there are a few exceptions to that rule, such as the Avengers, certain visitors, etcetera, but that’s basically the gist of it.”

“The Bronze Level is open to you all,” she continued, “that’s tour groups, and the staff who work in, like, the Sales and Marketing Department. Then, Silver is more like R&D, including the scientists and their interns. Finally, Gold Level is limited to a very few number of people, supposedly only Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark’s best friend, Colonel Rhodes, and Mr. Stark’s head of security, Happy Hogan. The rumor is that, recently, Dr. Bruce Banner, also known as The Hulk, was upgraded to Gold Level Clearance, but, again, that’s just a rumor.” Gwen shrugged.

Harry flipped his box over to indicate all the passes had been retrieved. “Before we move on, double and triple check that it is your name written on the pass! We would love it if we didn’t have to do all the extra paperwork in the case that two kids switched passes.” When the group nodded their approval, Harry smiled and continued. “As Gwen said, you all have Bronze. That means you can only go where a Silver or Gold Level brings you, besides the bathrooms on any floor, the cafeteria, the gift shop, and the lobby. You’re basically window-shopping through Stark Tower today.”

Peter had, of course, heard all of this a million times; once, he was even a tour guide for a 3rd grade class, on a day he had off of school. That was before Peter’s protocol had been changed to Baby Proof Level , though. Ned turned to Peter and gleefully whispered, “I know you don’t care about this, but this is so cool, dude.”

Peter grinned. “I know it is,” he promised, “and trust me, dude, I do care about this. I just can’t let Mr. Stark know I do, ‘cause he already makes fun of me for the fact that I own Iron Man merch.”

Ned chuckled knowingly, but their conversation halted as the group approached security.

“There is pretty intense security here,” Gwen explained, “but don’t worry too much. As long as none of you have weapons or whatever, all you’re going to hear is a beep, and Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY, will introduce you. Like this,” Gwen demonstrated by swiping her card and stepping through the machine. Immediately, FRIDAY’s voice rang out all around them.

“Gwen Stacy. Occupation: Intern. Department: Mid Tier Research and Development. Clearance Level: Silver.” Gwen smiled and waved at FRIDAY.

“Thank you, FRIDAY!” She said.

“You’re welcome, Gwen,” responded FRIDAY. Peter grinned - he really liked this AI.

Before Harry went through, Flash turned to Harry, who was standing adjacent to Peter, and asked, “What are the tiers? It said Mid Tier Research and Development. What does that mean?”

Harry smiled. “There are three level to each department: lower, mid, and upper. Lower tier is the kids who are still being trained, upper is the top of the food chain. Mid just means there are people on the team who’ve been around longer or whatever.” Before Flash could ask anything else, Harry swiped his card, and again, FRIDAY rattled off his credentials. Gwen and Harry waved a few of the students to follow through, and soon, all that was left was Ned, MJ, Mr. Lewis, and Peter.

“I’ll go first,” Ned mumbled to Peter.

“Ned Leeds. Occupation: Unavailable. Department: Unavailable. Clearance Level: Bronze.”

Immediately, Ned turned to Peter with a huge grin on his face, and mouthed the words, This is so dope! Peter smiled fondly. MJ went through next without a comment, and FRIDAY repeated as she was programmed to do.

“You’re up, Peter,” Mr. Lewis smiled, and Peter nodded and swiped his card awkwardly.

“Peter Parker. Occupation: Intern. Department: Upper Tier Research and Development. Clearance Level: Baby Proof.” Peter blushed and shrugged his shoulders knowingly.

In a flash - excuse the pun - Flash reacted. “What’s that mean? Baby Proof?”

Gwen smiled deviously, and Harry bit down a cackle. “Well,” Gwen began, “Peter here is the problem child at Stark Industries-” Peter rolled his eyes and groaned- “so Mr. Stark made a clearance specific to Peter.”

“Whenever Parker does something stupid, Baby Proof gets updated and he gets banned from another room or lab. Right now, he’s banned from Stark’s second lab without supervision, the R&D tech room without an adult over the age of 20, and-uh…” Harry furrowed his brow and hummed. “I can’t remember - what’s the other one?”

Peter sighed. “Dr. Banner’s lab if either Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts aren’t there to supervise us.”

Here, Harry allowed himself the laugh that’d been festering patiently. “A-ha! That’s right. Because of the hammer!”

Peter nodded and blushed. “Yup,” he clicked his tongue, “the hammer.”

To his right, he was vaguely aware of Flash’s dropped jaw and red hot glare. “So, Peni-I mean, Parker actually works here?”

“Uh-huh,” Gwen nodded slowly. “He didn’t tell you guys?”

“Oh, he did!” Ned added. “But, I guess no one believed him.”

“Gee, thanks, Ned,” Peter grumped, but Ned shrugged it off.

“Oh, uh, well, yeah. Peter works here. He’s the popular one,” Harry grinned.

Neither Harry nor Gwen heard it, but silently, Flash mumbled to his friends, “ I have no clue how Penis Parker is the popular one,” and Flash’s goons all laughed quietly. Peter only rolled his eyes.

“Shall we continue?” Gwen offered helpfully, seeing Peter’s suffering written all over his face. “We’ll work our way upstairs, but our first stop is the Sales and Marketing Department.” Peter and his class followed Gwen and Harry close to their heels, most of the students hanging onto their every word. Peter smiled at Ned’s face, and remembered when he was first officially hired; how he’d walked into the R&D labs, wide eyed and bushy tailed, tremendously grateful for the opportunity that Mr. Stark had given him. Ned’s grin and eyes the size of saucers spoke the same words Peter’s had as he made his way through his first tour and training: This is the best day of my life .

Time passed quickly, and soon, the group had officially made it to R&D, which was, albeit, the department Peter was most nervous about. FRIDAY announced their arrival overhead, her voice gently saying, “Welcome, Midtown School of Science and Technology, to the Research and Development Department.”

Gwen clapped her hands and smiled. “This is probably the part you were all waiting for, huh?”

She and Harry laughed at the cheerful nods and whispers in response to her question. “Good!” Harry exclaimed. “This is our favorite part, too.”

“The first room we’ll see is the radiation room. Due to safety reasons, we can’t let you in, but you can look through this window to check it out!” Gwen gestured to the wide, glass window, as tall and as large as the wall, which allowed the students to peer through and watch as the scientists inside flipped some switches and worked on some experiments Peter couldn’t be bothered to understand.

“Are interns allowed in the radiation room?” A voice asked amongst the crowd - not Flash’s, but instead, Abe Brown’s, which Peter was strangely grateful for.

“Only upper level interns who were trained specifically in the subject,” Harry answered. “As a lower level intern, you’re able to sort of choose the field you’d prefer to work in, but you can also do all of them, if that’s what you want. Gwen and I are both Misc Interns, so we work wherever we’re needed. Radiation is the only field you have to choose as a focus to be allowed in.”

“Is Parker a Misc Intern?” Flash asked, and Peter craved to know why Flash even cared.

“I don’t know why that matters,” Gwen smiled fakely, “but no, he’s not. He chose a field.”

“What’d he choose?”

Peter huffed quietly and tried not to roll his eyes, but a heavy silence filled the room after Gwen responded, “Why don’t you ask him?”

Immediately, Flash, along with most of the other students, turned to face him. Flash gestured obnoxiously for Peter to explain, and he couldn’t just say no , so he sighed. “I, uh, chose to be Mr. Stark’s personal intern. So my field is, like, wherever Mr. Stark needs me.”

“No way,” Flash groaned. “You’re such a liar. There’s no way Penis Parker is Tony Stark’s personal intern.” Peter shrugged, but Harry swooped in to save the day.

“ Peter Parker is Mr. Stark’s favorite and only personal intern. That’s one of the many reasons why our team fights over who gets to work with Peter whenever he’s in.” Peter blushed.

“Yup,” Gwen continued with a pop, “Peter’s also known as Baby Stark. That’s kind of because of the Baby Proof Protocol thing too, but also because he gets to shadow Mr. Stark every day.”

“He’s being primed to take over SI, apparently,” Harry teased, because though it wasn’t official, there wasn’t one employee at Stark Industries who didn’t expect Peter to take over after Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark were gone.

“While I love talking about Peter - and, trust me, I do - we are on a schedule, so if y’all want to see the chemistry labs, we should get a move on.” Gwen didn’t wait for a response before she started walking down the hall, but none of the students were too hesitant to agree.

As they toured one of the less classified chemistry labs, Peter and MJ listened to Ned’s excited rambling politely. “I’m not much of a chem-kid, you know, coding or whatever is more my thing, but this stuff is next fucking level, dude!” and other variants of Ned’s rants continued on for a several long minutes before MJ cut him off.

“Ned, why don’t you go introduce yourself to Harry and Gwen? I’m sure Peter’s told them a lot about you.” Ned jumped to agree and scampered off towards the tour guides.

“You were pretty happy to get rid of him,” Peter teased.

She shrugged. “I figured you’d need a minute. Sorry Flash is a dick.”

Peter shrugged too. “It’s whatever,” he said, but it wasn’t whatever , it sucked, and whether he’d say that out loud or not, MJ knew it.

“Yeah,” she said anyway, let him swelter in his lie, “ whatever .”

Then, the class was off to the tech room, which was simultaneously Peter’s least and his most favorite part. On one hand, it was his favorite section to work in, whenever he wasn’t in Mr. Stark’s lab. On the other hand, he was technically banned from it, and if Mr. Lewis weren’t there, he’d probably be stuck outside of the room.

“Here she is, in all her glory: the technology room,” Gwen bowed dramatically in front of it.

“We spend most of our day here, seeing as radiation is out of our league and chemistry is a little bit elitist. It’s also where the most development happens! This is the tech room-” Harry waved his arm around, gesturing about the room- “and there are two labs and one storage room for the tech field. Most of us just work in here, though, since the labs are really only used for testing out the stuff we make, not for the tinkering part.”

“As you can see, there is soot on the floor over there,” Gwen pointed at the corner of the room where the incident had occurred. “No one’s cleaned it up yet, I guess, but basically, that’s where Peter blew up the Roomba.”

“It did not blow up!” Peter squawked defensively, much to the amusement of his coworkers, Ned, and MJ. “And you both were there. Gwen was helping me the whole time.”

“Sure, Gwen was, but I wasn’t, so I get to make fun of you for it.” Harry shrugged, and Gwen nodded.

She smirked, “and I followed the instructions, but you blew the fuse.” Peter groaned, rolled his eyes, and tried his best to ignore the curious stares of Flash and his friends as the tour group continued through the room.

“I like your friends,” MJ turned to Peter, her face much softer than he’d seen before. “Gwen seems nice.”

“She is,” Peter responded, but confusion was evident on his face.

“Dope,” was all MJ said before walking off to join the class once again.

Peter had been pretty much terrified for the R&D section of the field trip, but as he walked into the cafeteria, he was hit with the stark realization that he should’ve been afraid for the lunch break all along; Flash was a dick during the tour, sure, but there’d been supervision on the behalf of a teacher, parent chaperones, and two tour guides. In the lunchroom, Mr. Lewis would be relaxing, along with the parents, and Gwen and Harry would likely be taking their break too - and Peter would be alone.

He slunk to grab his tray as unnoticeably as possible, MJ and Ned on either side of him. He rushed to serve himself food, grabbing a sandwich and a bag of chips, and made his way hurriedly to their table, on the opposite side of the room from Flash. Peter attempted to ignore the tingling in his spine, which warned him Flash was watching him, by making conversation with Ned and MJ. He asked them what their favorite parts were, what they were excited for, and more, but just as Ned began to ramble and vibrate softly with excitement, they were interrupted harshly by Flash himself.

“So, Penis, you weren’t lying ‘bout the internship?” Flash said, and when Peter turned to face him, he could see Flash’s muscular arms crossed and flex in front of him intimidatingly.

“Correct,” Peter nodded and looked back down at his sandwich.

“Which means you’ve met Tony Stark once or twice,” Flash added.

“Wow, two for two Flash. You might become competition at this rate.” Ned flicked at Peter’s arm, trying to silence him, but Peter pushed him off.

“You grow some balls over the weekend?” Flash sneered. “You better watch your mouth, Penis, or I’ll have to wash it out with soap.”

“What are you, my mom?” Peter huffed.

“Isn’t that bitch dead?” Flash said, and suddenly, the room felt arid and dry; all around him, the words bloated and rested over Peter’s head, darkening like a raincloud. It’s then that something inside of him shattered, and the shards of glass pierced his arteries, filling his gut with something as heavy and thick as blood. Before Peter could catch his breath, Flash continued, saying, “Or maybe she just wanted to get rid of you? I bet she couldn’t deal with you anymore, so she left. I bet that’s why she’s gone.”

I bet that’s why she’s gone replayed in Peter’s head, scratching at his mind angrily like a record player. Peter’s resolve crumbled all around him, and he jumped to his feet, slammed his hands on the table in front of him and turned to glare at Flash, who didn’t flinch, whose eyes didn’t even falter at Peter’s sudden anger. Ned, though, gasped; Peter wasn’t much of an outwardly angry person, he preferred to let his rage fester in silence. In an instant, Ned reached over and laid a hand on Peter’s in an attempts to calm him down, but Peter only stepped over the bench to approach Flash.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Peter asked, something evil and unrecognizable dripping in his voice. “Say it again! I dare you, fucking say it again.”

“I bet you were such a disappointment. Your mom was probably some whore who didn’t even want a kid, especially not Penis fucking Parker, lord of the dorks. Really, Parker, we’re all just waiting for the day your aunt leaves too.”

Peter was decidedly not a violent person, but Spider-Man’s whole thing was to look out for the little guy , and Peter was feeling a lot like a little guy in this moment; as if he were in the mask, as if he were fighting Toomes again, as if he were some stupid angry vigilante catching cars and desperate to avenge his Uncle Ben, as if his fist had a mind of its own: he raised his arm and swung it back. Before he could follow through, Ned grabbed his elbow and pulled him back.

“Peter, stop!” Ned roughly tugged at him, knowing as well as Peter did that Peter was fully capable of killing Flash if he punched hard enough. “This is exactly what he wants, dude.”

Peter knew as much - of course he did - but there wasn’t a single cell in his body that cared. He pulled back at Ned’s arm, ripped himself out of his best friend’s grip. “Fuck you, Flash,” he spit with venom, and shook his head.

“Bet you want to,” Flash said, and if Peter were mad earlier, he’s enraged now, “since you’re a fucking faggot and all.”

Before Peter had the time to tear Flash’s eyeballs out in the way he craved, a voice broke through the crowd. “What the fuck is going on here?” Peter, in his hazy, one track vision, managed to acknowledge it was Mr. Stark , fuming in the doorway. “I just got a call about a disturbance, and I come to find it’s some teenager picking fights with my intern?”

“U-uh, Mr. Stark, sir, I’m sorry you got called down here, i-it’s nothing, Peter and I were just having a conversation,” Flash said, but while the Midtown teachers were gullible and happy to write off Flash’s misbehavior as whatever excuse he bullshitted - if only to keep his father’s donations coming in - Mr. Stark didn’t take anybody’s shit.

“You must be Flash , huh?” Mr. Stark sneered. “Sorry, I mean Eugene ,” he corrected, “Eugene Thompson. You know, I’ve heard a lot about you - you think it’s fun to fuck around with kids who are smaller than you, smarter than you,” Flash sunk and stumbled backwards and Mr. Stark made his way to the two teenagers, his stride stomping and confident. “You’re insanely jealous of Peter, since he kicks your ass in everything. He’s ahead of you in science, in Spanish, in English, even in Academic Decathlon, which he barely shows up to. You’re so desperate to prove that you’re worthy , you have to tear down other kids to feel better about yourself.”

Flash was just about pressed up against Peter, who was staring at Mr. Stark with wide, curious eyes. Mr. Stark jabbed his finger at Flash’s chest, which heaved up and down in attempt to catch his own breath. “Talk to my kid like that again, Eugene,” Mr. Stark’s glare was hot and furious as he held onto the eye contact with Flash, “and you’ll seriously regret it.”

Peter’s ears burned, and Flash vaguely resembled a fish out of water. Peter should be embarrassed, he knew as much, but he wasn’t ; instead of embarrassment something dark and unsettling unfurled itself in his belly, something unfamiliar and foreign. He recognized it, of course, as his own ego; he was a little bit smug, but he had the right to be, after all the shit Flash put him through. Peter was fully aware he should have been embarrassed by Mr. Stark’s antics, but even then, all he could think about was the fact Mr. Stark just called him my kid , and...well, and that’s all that matters.

“Eugene, let’s go. I’ll be making a call home,” Mr. Lewis called Flash over; Peter had never seen Flash get a phone call home - he had to try really hard to bite down his grin.

“Pete,” Mr. Stark said, laying a hand on Peter’s shoulder, warm and soft in a way that deeply contrasted how he’d been to Eugene only a moment ago. “Walk with me, let’s take a minute.”

Peter nodded, agreed silently, because the words didn’t seem to even begin to form in his mouth. Mr. Stark led him out of the cafeteria, turned the corner and brought him down to the end of the hall, just in front of the elevator. “Sorry,” Peter mumbled out the only word that could come to mind.

“Why are you sorry?” Mr. Stark shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, buddy, that kid was being horrible to you.”

“I almost hit him,” Peter whined, “I could’ve-what if I killed him? I could have, I’m strong enough, a-and I wanted to hit him so bad , I-”

Mr. Stark shushed him and shook his head. “You did nothing wrong, Pete. But, I have to know, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad? You said he was a jerk to everyone, bu-but that? Peter ,” Mr. Stark sighed, heavy and tired, “that was bad . He said some awful things to you.”

“I know,” Peter shrugged, “it wasn’t always this bad. He’s just mad, ‘cause he didn’t believe the internship thing, a-and today, Gwen and Harry talked about me.” Mr. Stark huffed quietly, trying to reel in his annoyance, even if Peter heard it loud and clear.

“Peter, none of that was okay. I would’ve tried to punch him too,” Mr. Stark scoffed.

“I know ,” he whined in response. “I know that, but-”

“-but nothing!” Mr. Stark interrupted. “He talked about your mother , about May , he called yo-”

“I fucking know that, Mr. Stark,” Peter sneered. “God, you think I don’t know that? I was there, man, he said it to me . I heard all of it, and honestly, Mr. Stark, I’m mostly just pissed that he said it in front of you.”

“ Why? ” Mr. Stark cried out. “Why is that what made you mad? And, God, Pete, language.”

“Ugh. ‘Cause it’s embarrassing,” he mumbled. “I’m fucking Spider-Man , right, but I’m still bullied? What the fuck is that about?”

“Alright, Peter, I get that you’re upset, but cool it with the swearing.” Peter sniffled, nodded and moved to bore holes in the floor with his heavy stare. “Peter,” Mr. Stark started, “I’ve gotta be real with you, bud. I don’t give a shit about Spider-Man. I care a lot more about you . If Peter Parker is getting pushed around, that’s something I care about, alright? You matter to me, Peter. Fuck the suit.”

“ Language ,” Peter mocked, and the air around them lifted, tasted a little bit less like blood and gasoline. “You mean your million dollar suit?”

Mr. Stark snorted, puffed out a laugh. “Yeah, Pete. The million dollar suit. Fuck it. I don’t care about it. If it’s you or the suit, I’ll choose you every day.”

“That’s how you met me though,” Peter pointed out, “through the suit. You wouldn’t even know me if it weren’t for Spider-Man.”

“Sure, but you wouldn’t know Ned if you hadn’t been raised by May and Ben. You’d never be friends with MJ if that Liz girl hadn’t switched schools. I don’t know if I believe in fate, or any of that crap, but I do know if there is someone out there pulling the strings, it led me right here to you.”

Peter sucked in a shaky breath, and hesitated, before nodding while the tears welled up in his eyes. “Okay,” he said, only as loud as his own heartbeat, perhaps even too quiet for Mr. Stark to hear, but when Peter looked away from his trembling hands and instead into Mr. Stark’s eyes - which burned a fire that Peter knew well, from all the times Mr. Stark had look at Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes in that same way - and mirrored the light in Mr. Stark’s eyes, he knew Mr. Stark understood.

Mr. Stark wrapped his two abounding arms around Peter’s shoulders, which seemed to weigh a thousand tons, and pulled Peter in tight against his chest. Peter, with his nimble and unsteady fingers, grasped desperately at Mr. Stark’s t-shirt that smelled distantly of motor oil and cologne, and he let himself inhale hopelessly, feel the familiarity waft all around his body cavity. He allowed himself one moment, one moment , to pretend - to pretend like Mr. Stark was something more than just his boss or his mentor, to pretend like Mr. Stark was memorizing Peter, too, like he was trying to memorialize Peter’s scent and frame it in his mind, to pretend like Mr. Stark had meant every word he’d said, like none of it was a lie - and absently, he could feel Mr. Stark inhale hopelessly too.

After a moment, Peter wormed his way out of Mr. Stark’s grasp. “That Baby Proof Protocol clearance thing was pretty embarrassing, Mr. Stark.”

“Good,” Mr. Stark chuckled, “but really, kid, for the love of God - just call me Tony.”

Peter nodded, and pretended his voice wasn’t rough as sandpaper when he spoke. “Okay,” he said, “Tony.”

He yearned for those whispered words to shout even a fraction of the sheer adoration he felt for Tony; he figured though, if they didn’t, he had all the time in the world to find the words that did.