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Being a Stark [Superfamily]

Chapter 18

When it comes to friendships, Peter already knows that he’s not the best in maintaining them. Unless he sees the person on a daily basis, like on school, there’s a lot of chance that he might, sometimes, forget to contact said friend.

It’s an easy mistake, he thinks; he’s often fighting crime on the streets (which he still hasn’t been doing three weeks after getting wounded), building a super-suit with his father (which he’s also sure would have been finished already had Tony not waited for Peter every time), and going to actual school once in a while. His phone is not really the center of his attention.

But, for the few times that he thinks about texting his friends, he usually gets a pretty quick reply. He realizes he’s probably screwed something up when, after five texts of him trying to get everybody together for another Pizza-evening, Yaël still doesn’t answer.

Sure, there aren’t too many friends to contact in the first place; Wanda is still out on the mission (they’ve been gone for almost two weeks! It’s been driving Tony insane!), Wade is just too annoying to ask, Ned doesn’t even know about Peter’s friends, and- well, that’s about it.

Yaël was actually the one he wanted to hang out with. It’s been a little while since he last saw her (that must be when she came to his house with ice cream and the old Superman-movies back when he was still stuck at home with his wound). The fact that she’s not answering makes it clear to Peter that, while she’s been there to look after him, he hasn’t really done the same for her.

He doesn’t even know how she’s been since then. She might have had the crappiest days of her life, and he wouldn’t know!

Peter startles from his thoughts when something is suddenly thrown against the back of his head. Realizing that he’s still in class makes him sit up almost immediately. He hopes the teacher hasn’t seen him drift off like that!

The thing that got thrown against his head had been a piece of paper. With a frown, Peter opens the little ball it forms, and sees that something is written inside. He recognizes Flash’ handwriting immediately.

Peter rolls his eyes, crumbles the paper again and then throws it into the bin with precision. Nobody but Flash saw that happening, and the guy isn’t going to say anything about it at all, not wanting people to think that Peter can actually do something.

Peter’s not too surprised when another paper is thrown on him. It’s another message.



It irks Peter that the guy is talking about his friend like that, but he figures it’s best not to let it get to him. As if Flash could even have a chance with Wanda. There’s still that thing going on between her and Vision that nobody dares to mention but everybody knows is there.

Then, another paper. This time, Peter doesn’t open it immediately. He pretends to pay attention to class, writes down some notes of a lesson he already understands plenty, and gets up when the bell indicates the hour being over. Flash’ paper is now tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. He hands in the extra homework he did to get extra credits, gets a content nod from the teacher, and then hurries back into the hallway, grabbing his cellphone once more but seeing that he still has no new messages.

Peter sighs, gets to his locker and takes out his books for the next course. Ned is at home, sick for the day, so Peter’s once again walking alone. His earbuds are already in, and there’s some music playing softly while he wanders through the hallway.

Sadly, the little soundtrack that he put up for himself is already pulled away when he’s suddenly pushed against the lockers by an annoyed Flash Thompson, who doesn’t look like he’s taking well at being ignored like that.

“I don’t take too well at being ignored like that, Parker,” Flash repeats Peter’s thoughts, and it would almost have been comical. Peter sighs, but doesn’t fight against the grip. He should have known that the guy would start again the moment his bruises are gone. But Flash seems to forget that any normal person would still be hurting on their wound, so Peter pretends to hiss.

It doesn’t hurt anymore – at least, not immediately. It’s still difficult to swing around for a longer period of time, meaning that his Spider-Man outings still haven’t been as much. But there isn’t more than that. It’s still a pink line where his suture has been, and on his back there’s a scar from that metal pin that ruptured his spleen. He figures those scars will always be there from now on.

When Flash sees Peter hiss a bit, he lowers his grip a little bit, but still doesn’t let go of him. Who knew there was a human side to him?

“What do you want, Flash?” Peter asks, and the guy then lets go completely, the anger on his face suddenly gone.

“I was there, that day the Goblin took you. I saw everything happen,” Flash says. Peter straightens his hoodie and untangles his earbuds, but still waits for further explanation. “I heard Iron Man call out after you – call out your name.”

“Oh,” Peter breathes out, wondering how that’s so special?

“I didn’t believe you when you said you know Stark, but I figure I was wrong.”

“So what, your way of apologizing is by asking me if I can arrange you a date with my friend?” Peter mutters out.

“Whoa, you’re friends with Black Widow?” Flash gets out, and Peter rolls his eyes.

“More like Scarlet Witch,” he corrects him. “But yeah, she’s my friend.”

“Well, if I say that there’s a party at my place tonight, you think you can bring her along? Or maybe that Spider-Man guy? He’s cool, too,” Flash asks, and Peter wants to laugh it out loud. Having finally untangled the earbuds, he slowly starts walking again. Flash follows him wordlessly.

“I can ask if she wants to come, but it would be hard since she’s currently out of the country. Something about a dude called ‘Crossbones’?” Peter explains.

“Whoa, sounds cool. Well, if they can come, you’re invited as well, Parker,” Flash says, slapping him once on the shoulder before running off again. Peter just frowns, figuring that, even when trying to apologize, Flash is still kind of a jerk. Well, not everybody can be a hero, he figures. He checks his phone again, and then moves to his last class of the day.

At the end of that hour, Peter automatically goes to the back of the parking where Happy’s car is currently waiting for him. He doesn’t pay attention to Flash or any of the others that are watching him, and just gets inside. When he gets to the compound, there’s still no answer.

There’s some mild distraction when working with Tony. Aside the constant questioning on who is going to get this suit and when they’re going to put everything together into one thing, the two get quite a lot of things ready until Tony even announces that it’s about it. He’s got nothing else planned to be added to it.

Peter knows Tony is slowly getting crazy by the lack of news coming from the Avengers on when they will return. Two weeks is a while, especially if there’s minimal contact between them and Tony, who is now only acting as their information point. He looks things up for them, connects the dots whenever they can’t, and sends them coordinates to where they’re supposed to go.

It must be awful knowing he’s not allowed to join them.

“How’s the wound?” Tony suddenly asks after packing away all of the suit-components, only to work on it later on. It bugs Peter a little bit that he’s going to finish it without him, but Tony keeps on insisting that he wants to keep the end result as a surprise.

“The wound’s pretty fine,” he answers, gently rubbing the scar and pretending to wince. “It’s not long until I can go back to gym.”

“Good,” Tony says. He picks up a tablet and starts typing in some stuff. “Say, you and your aunt ever went on a holiday?”

Peter shakes his head, not recalling any kind of vacation they used to take. Sometimes, they managed to get themselves to a beach of some sort, but that was never longer than a day, and the drive to there usually took longer than the time they’d spend there.

“She’s got two weeks off at the beginning of summer break, she told me. Maybe I can arrange for you two to go to France for a few days? Get tanned in the sun, take some time to breathe?”

It’s May now, and there’s only a few more weeks to go until the school year ends. The teachers are all droning on about the finals, and how they should prepare themselves in these last few lessons they’ll have. Peter tries not to think about it too much. Only barely has he managed to get his grades back up with all the extra credit work and the internship. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that everything might still have been for nothing because of him failing his tests.

“Yeah, uh, sounds cool. You not joining us?” Peter asks, getting a shake of his head from Tony.

“Don’t want to claim you for everything, kid,” Tony mutters without looking up. Peter nods without really understanding. Then he clears his throat and checks his cellphone again. There’s a message, but it’s from Wade, asking him if he left the stove on. Peter rolls his eyes once more and puts the phone aside.

“I, uh, I don’t have a passport or anything,” Peter adds, uncertainly. Tony just snorts then, finally facing him with the dark brown eyes Peter has come to known as his own.

“Don’t worry, that’ll be taken care of,” Tony assures him. Peter nods enthusiastically, and then the two dive right back into work, this time not making the suit for the mystery hero but putting together a new Iron Man suit. Ned would freak out!

At eight, like always, Happy is ready to take Peter home. With the promise that Peter would stay over for the weekend again, the two part ways; Tony getting back inside the building, and Peter driving off with Happy. One look at his phone indicates that there’s still no answer.

Arriving at an empty house, Peter finds a note on the table from Aunt May, telling him she’s got another series of night shifts for the next five days. Peter sighs, dropping the piece of paper back on the table and trying to think back of the last time he actually spent time with her. He thought that the internship would at least help out a bit on the working-part, but seeing as Peter has not been accepted by any college yet, Stark Industries can’t release the sum for now. Their bills stay the same, as much as their income – though Peter earns a tad bit more at Stark Industries in comparison to the Pizza place.

He remembers Flash inviting him to the party if he would get Spider-Man to join. Wanda would be difficult – she’s not back yet – but Spider-Man is easier; Peter just has to go, put on the suit for an hour, and then he could stay.

Surely, there aren’t a lot of people he knows, but it would surely beat staying at home for the evening, right?

So Peter puts on the suit, swings the few buildings that separate his home from Flash’, and takes a few deep breaths once he arrives in front of the house. Hidden in a tree, Peter observes what is happening there; loud music is playing inside, and through the window, Peter can see Flash as the DJ. There are multiple cars parked in the street. A couple of teenagers are dancing in the garden, drinking the stuff they’re obviously not legal for yet. Peter makes a mental note to stay away from the alcohol tonight.

He can recognize more people from his class; there are Liz and her friends, a couple of other kids from the Decathlon-team – who would have thought that Flash would be a bit of a nerd himself? – and even Michelle is there, though she’s looking bored as hell. Those are about the only faces he can catch through the windows, but Peter is sure that, as soon as he gets inside, he’ll meet more of them.

Hiding his backpack in the tree, Peter drops down on the ground and casually walks over to the front door. There are a few people looking at him in confusion, and another guy clearly freaking out because of his presence. Peter ignores them, instead knocking on the door and waiting for an answer.

When none comes, he realizes that the music is probably too loud for anybody to hear them. Peter then shrugs and opens the door himself. With no invitation granted towards him, Peter just walks inside, seeing more people from his school dance on every available space they can find. He shouldn’t be too shocked that most of them are already drunk and mostly just rubbing against each other instead of dancing.

Flash is lucky that his house is quite separated from the others, otherwise the police would have been here a lot earlier.

“SPIDER-MAN!” Flash suddenly shouts, sounding just as drunk as everybody else. Peter looks up, seeing everybody look at him. “Do a flip!”

Peter frowns, having expected a whole other greeting. Still, he decides not to overthink it and prepares himself to do as he asks. A flip isn’t really that much work. So he makes the jump, lands back on his two feet, and everybody shouts and claps!

Flash runs away from his post at the DJ-panel and runs up to Peter (or Spider-Man, more) and engulfs him in a strong hug. The stench of alcohol is strong on him.

“I can’t believe Parker did it! Where is he even?” Flash asks, pulling away. Peter shrugs.

“He was on his way. I’m faster, after all,” he explains, lowering his voice a little bit even though there isn’t much risk of Flash recognizing his voice in his drunken state.

“Oh, well, after getting you here, he’s surely welcome!” Flash says, still wrapping one arm around Peter’s shoulder, holding up his bottle of beer in the air and facing everybody else. “LONG LIVE PENIS PARKER!”

“LONG LIVE PENIS PARKER!” everybody shouts in return. The following hour goes in a haze; people try to take pictures with him, some girls dance and even lean forward to kiss the mask whenever Peter least expects it, and eventually, he has to admit that it’s time for him to go.

Or for Spider-Man. Peter is having quite a bit of fun at the moment, and he’s already forgetting his own promise of staying away from the alcohol; what would it matter if he would let go a little bit, tonight?

So after lots of trouble, he manages to escape from all the drunken fans, and hurries back to his tree where he grabs his backpack. Somewhere secluded, he changes back into his normal clothing. Then, with the promise of actual fun coming his way, Peter hurries back inside.

This time, his entrance doesn’t give the same reaction. He’s pretty much ignored by the dancing people. So Peter hurries to the improvised bar, nods once towards Flash who is by now too drunk to even notice him, and gets himself something to drink.

It’s safe to say that Peter has never drunk alcohol before. Even later, he wouldn’t really be able to explain what made him drink right now, but as it is, he finishes his glass in one go, immediately going for the next one. It could be the sudden realization that the school year is almost over, or maybe the fact that Flash is actually being kind of non-violent towards him.

It could be unintentional peer pressure… Who knows? Peter sure as hell doesn’t when he finishes his fifth glass, feeling more than just buzzed and about ready to just go dance in front of everybody. He notices Michelle nearby, eyeing him with a frown. Peter just waves at her mockingly before shaking his head along with the beat.

At one point during the party, Peter took out his phone and texted Yaël once more, this time about where he currently is. It’s possible that he’s misspelled a few words, but he’s sure the girl can figure out what he means on her own.

Peter finds himself dancing with some girls he never even met. Much to his surprise, even a few guys start rubbing up on him when there doesn’t seem to be much pace for anybody to move. And Peter doesn’t care at all, because he’s having fun. And for once, people don’t see him as the loser, or the nerd that can’t keep his family together.

They see him as a human being, who is capable of having fun just like everybody else.

He’s way beyond understanding at what must be his twelfth drink. The cup in his hand is just about a permanent accessory he’s carrying along, and the clothes he’s wearing more often than not goes flying into the crowd whenever another girl starts dancing with him. Now, only wearing his underwear and his shoes, Peter is once again dancing along on the beat.

Michelle doesn’t look impressed at all. Peter doesn’t care; it’s not like he likes the messy-haired redhead. She’s mean, and constantly suspicious, and, and… he doesn’t know what else. Sure, she’s kind of pretty underneath that ‘i-don’t-care-bravado’ she has going on, but it’s mostly that attitude that puts Peter off.

Peter doesn’t really know when it happens that a random girl takes him away. At one moment, they’re dancing together, and the other she drags him along to the stairs, pulling him inside a bedroom that clearly isn’t Flash’. A small part inside of Peter wonders if he should even be allowed in there, but the other part doesn’t care.

“Hey hot-shot,” the girl – what was her name? Reesa? Reanna? Peter doesn’t know – tells him, keeping her face awfully close to Peter’s, teasing to kiss but never really doing it. Her hand comes to rest on the pink scar on Peter’s abdomen, but she doesn’t ask any questions. “I found this awesome stuff in here, but it’s a bit too big for me.”

Peter snorts without knowing why. The girl pulls up some black clothing that seems to shine in the light. Peter is beyond understanding what it is, but he can’t help himself from laughing.

He’s still laughing ten minutes later, when the girl successfully dressed him in said shiny clothes, and even managed to put on some sort of make-up on him despite their permanent laughter. Peter has no idea what she’s doing, but he finds it hilarious on its own.

He’s aware there’s music playing, aware that he’s dancing and that everybody’s watching and screaming in excitement. There’s a flash of purple somewhere in the crowd – is that Yaël? She came!

He’s aware that he’s getting himself out of breath in a way, but the next thing he can really think clearly of it the headache he’s feeling afterwards.

Peter has his eyes closed – when did he close them? He’s lying on some sort of mattress with a too-heavy duvet lying on top of him. His head is giving him a lot of grief, and even pressing the palm of his hands against his brow doesn’t help him.

When he opens his eyes, he realizes he’s not in his bedroom. The daylight infiltrates into the room in bright stripes, enough to illuminate the space for Peter to get a good look at it. He’s seen this room before, but only shortly. Somehow, he’s finding himself in Yaël’s house.

A soft noise next to him startles him, and when Peter turns around, he finds the girl’s messy purple hair underneath the sheets. She’s got her back towards him, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand what this looks like.

She’s not wearing any clothes.

One quick look downstairs, and Peter realizes that he, too, isn’t wearing anything. Despite his headache, he gets out a loud gasp that comes close to a shriek. It’s loud enough to wake Yaël, who startles up and gets into a defensive position, ready to start throwing punches. She doesn’t look any better than him.

What the hell happened?

“Peter?!” she asks when she sees him. Her eyes open wide upon noticing his state of undress. She doesn’t cover herself up at all, seeming uncaring about her nudity. Peter, ever the gentleman, still shifts his gaze away to the side.

“Uh, you have any idea what I’m doing here?” Peter asks. Yaël frowns and passes her hand through her hair.

“I remember getting your text. I was heading your way to rip you a new one, but I don’t remember the details; I was kinda drunk,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Uh, last thing I remember was you dancing with an umbrella in your hand.”

“Oh God,” Peter groans, feeling like he’s about to puke. He’s not feeling wonderful at all. He remembers slightly how ecstatic he’d been feeling the entire evening, but right now it must be about the exact opposite. His shoulders feel heavy, his heart feels like it’s been ripped out right again.

“Oh crap, did we- you know?” Yaël asks. Peter doesn’t answer. He presses his hands against his eyes, and lies back down on the pillow, afraid to face the day. He doesn’t even know how late it is; he probably should have been at the tower hours ago!

Peter looks up when Yaël clears her throat. He sees her in the middle of the room, standing up with one hand on her hip and the other holding something in the air, still as naked as the day she was born.

“You know, at least we used protection,” she says dryly, swinging the thing in her hand around a bit before throwing it into the bin. Peter, once again, groans and throws his head back.

It’s not like it was his first time; that experience he got to share with Gwen, at least. But that thought doesn’t make him feel better at all. In fact, he’s feeling worse than ever, like he’s ready to never leave this bed at all.

“I even had a speech ready for when I scolded you, but I can’t remember if I did that already…” Yaël goes on. Peter doesn’t react at all anymore. Why is he suddenly feeling like crying? Or more, why is he suddenly feeling like he’s the biggest failure of them all? Even just one look at the girl in front of him gets him close to tears.

“Uh, Peter, are you alright?” Yaël asks then, suddenly worried. Peter shakes his head, sniffing his nose while trying to keep his tears to his own. He’s failing immensely at that.

There’s a hand touching his arm in comfort, and that’s when Peter breaks. Tears stream down his face, sobs escape his mouth. Peter keeps on shaking, even as Yaël is trying her best to comfort him.

But what’s he crying for? Is it the reminder that the thing that happened last night has only ever been done with Gwen before? The reminder that he’s a crappy friend, who can’t even put aside his own problems to make it up to the girl currently comforting him? Is it the fact that Harry is still stuck in the compound, not even closer on getting better from whatever has happened to him?

What he needs right now is Gwen. She would always manage to cheer him up, to distract him. But that’s no longer possible.

“Alright, this isn’t working. I’m calling your aunt,” Yaël says. Before she can walk away, Peter grabs her arm.

“No, she had a night shift and she’s probably sleeping,” he mutters out through his sobs.

“Alright, but I am calling somebody,” she says. Peter can’t blame her, she mentioned once before that comforting people isn’t something she’s good at, at all. She explained how she’s always afraid to make it worse by saying something wrong, or whatever. Peter doesn’t hold it against her; just once more he’s proving how a horrible friend he is. Can’t even act normal to have a serious talk with the girl.

After helping him get dressed, Peter is seated down on the couch, a blanket wrapped around him and an untouched hot coco on the table. He doesn’t have the intention of drinking it, feeling like it’ll probably come back out just as fast as it came in. It’s a wonder he didn’t puke that morning, but that’s probably because he hadn’t eaten anything yesterday.

By the time ‘somebody’ arrives, Peter has been on the couch for about half an hour. He’s not too surprised it’s Tony storming through the doors, insisting on seeing Peter.

Peter, who is holding his phone in his hands, and watching a video of himself in women’s clothes, dancing to Rihanna’s Umbrella with an actual umbrella in his hands. The video shared by Flash, with the only text written with it ‘Penis Parker shows his true self’.

“Peter!” Tony calls out, and before Peter knows it he’s got his father’s arms wrapped around him. “It’s alright, son, I’m here.”

And Peter cries, grabbing on to his father with such a force he’s surprised Tony’s still breathing. Holding on to the hug, Peter looks up at Yaël and mouths a small ‘thank you’ to her. All she does is shrug and move away from them, probably to hide herself in her bedroom.

They don’t see her when they leave. Peter should just remind himself to call her later. Just like always… That’s just exactly what went wrong in the first place, wasn’t it? The postponing? And then when she actually speaks out her mind, Peter can’t remember a thing and they’ve ended up in bed together somehow. At least it’s best that that is removed from his memory; not that it’s such a horrible thought, but she’s his friend, and they’ve never even thought about being more than that.

Even now, Peter doesn’t desire much else other than friendship when he thinks of her. And yet now, he’s not sure friendship is still a possibility.






The video starts trending, even outside of school. People who find it funny that a guy dressed in girl’s clothing is dancing, completely wet and drunk with a freaking umbrella in his hands, share the video the moment they’ve seen it, wanting the rest of the world to see it as well.

He knows that Tony had to keep himself from laughing when he, too, got a look at it. In full embarrassment, Peter had admitted that he got drunk the evening before – which already earned him a scowl from Tony and an added warning from FRIDAY, who says that the reason he’s been feeling so horrible is probably because of the combination of his pills and the alcohol – and explained how one of the girls manipulated him into dancing in drag like that.

Tony doesn’t seem to think it’s too bad, claiming that “as long as your clothes were still on, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Though that isn’t helping him at all. Peter just rather spends the entire day on the couch, hating himself for ever going to that party. Tony leaves him be, but he likes to make him know that it’s his ow fault for feeling like this.

“Pills and alcohol, it don’t match, kiddo,” he keeps on saying every time Peter even dares to sigh. After about two hours of just scowling on the couch, Tony decides it’s enough and puts up a movie.

After making a call with Peter’s psychiatrist, Tony tells the kid that the way he’s feeling will take about a day or two, as long as he keeps on taking his medication. Peter doesn’t respond, instead just rests his head on his father’s lap and watches the TV playing something that’s supposed to be funny but can’t get a laugh out of him.

His phone has been going crazy the entire day, mostly people tagging him in posts and Ned and Wade asking questions he’s been ignoring. Ever since he’s woken up, he isn’t feeling like facing other people. Especially with the way he’s started his day – that’s something the two of them are going to have to talk about, but then again, there’s a lot to discuss, anyway.

“You heard from Steve?” Peter asks when the credits start playing. Tony, who has been reading stuff on his tablet in silence, just hums and curls some more of Peter’s hair around his fingers. The head massage feels kind of good, and Peter closes his eyes appreciatingly.

“They’re on their way back. Mission was another bust,” Tony says calmly. “He’s not coming here, though.”

They’re in the tower right now, at first it had just been the two of them, but after half an hour of being here Vision eventually came up. Peter almost wants to ask when the babysitting shifts will be over, but eventually he figures that it’s not really his decision. Besides, Vision is not too bad for company; he’s always reading, or trying to cook. Sometimes he adds some complicated stuff to whatever Tony is talking about, but other than that he doesn’t interfere.

Had Peter been in a better mood, he would have asked Vision if they kind of aren’t brothers. But as it is, Peter keeps his mouth shut and his eyes closed.

“Why not?” Peter asks in response to Tony’s remark. The inventor shrugs without taking his eyes away from the tablet.

“He had some other matters to attend to, regarding that friend of yours. They get along pretty well, I suppose,” Tony mutters. Peter feels his cheeks heat up again at the vague mention of Yaël, but Tony can’t see it, luckily. So, yeah, that’s going to be awkward for a little while…

“Yeah, apparently so,” Peter mumbles out. Another sigh escapes his mouth, and Peter tries to reposition himself into a comfortable position so he can catch up on some sleep.

“That’s what alco-“

“I know, stop repeating that,” Peter interrupts him. Tony just laughs towards Vision.

“I’m annoying him,” he tells the android, who looks up and tilts his head a bit to the side. Peter just rolls his eyes.

“I suppose his reaction of annoyance can be another end-result of the combination from the medication and the alcohol,” Vision explains, stating the obvious again. Peter groans in frustration. They’re just doing that to annoy him. Tony laughs again, though Vision just seems confused because of Peter’s reaction.

“Say, will you ever tell me why you don’t like Yaël all that much?” Peter tries, thinking back of all the times his father mentioned his purple-haired friend. Tony snorts, but keeps reading on whatever literature he’s found on his tablet.

“I don’t really think so, no,” Tony responds.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s classified Avengers-business,” Tony concludes. “Just because your father was an Avenger doesn’t mean that you get to know all their secrets.”

“Your,” Peter corrects him. Tony frowns and gives him a questioning look. “You said ‘their,’ but what you mean is ‘your’ secrets, right?”

Tony shakes his head, and puts the tablet down at last. With serious eyes, he faces his son, lips put in a tight line.

“I’ve decided to step back from the Avengers,” Tony explains. “It’s not like I can fight alongside them now, and the action is not really good for me.” Tony keeps on toying with Peter’s hair, but now with both his hands.

“How long?” Peter asks.

“Undetermined,” Tony admits with a sigh. “The team knows, I’ve told them a little while back. Rescuing you from the Goblin has been my last act as Iron Man. Sounds fitting, too.”

“But you love being an Avenger?” Peter asks, sitting up at last to give Tony a long look. The man simply sighs and shakes his head.

“I know I do,” he says. “But… I have responsibilities now, Pete…”

Peter doesn’t answer, knowing that Tony is talking about him. He decides not to go further into it, not wanting to have the guilt he’s feeling becoming even bigger. Instead, Peter lies back down and allows Tony once more to play with his hair. The two of them seem to like the gesture; he doesn’t know what Tony gains from it, but it calms Peter down to have his head massaged like that. Even when he’s feeling like crap, at least like this he’s reminded that he’s not alone.

Peter only realizes he’s fallen asleep when he wakes up much later; the window indicates that it’s already night, showing a darkness in the sky from outside and the millions of city lights from all the buildings. New York never really sleeps, after all.

The next indication that proves that he’s been out of it for probably a few hours is the sudden addition of another voice Peter quickly recognizes as Steve’s. If his body wouldn’t have felt like Thor’s hammer had been put on top of it, he would have jumped up from the surprise.When did Steve return?

He can hear him talking to Tony in hushed voices all the way from the kitchen. The volume of their voice proves that they’re trying not to wake Peter. For a small moment he wonders why they don’t just have this conversation in Tony’s bedroom, but he quickly figures they wouldn’t want to leave him alone.

“We wasted so much time,” Steve mutters towards Tony. Peter figures that the mission they went on probably was another bust. They’ve been gone far longer than they normally are, too. More than two weeks, almost!

“You kept him from killing the innocent. I don’t see that as wasted, Steve,” Tony assures the man. The reflection of the window shows Steve and Tony from afar. Peter can see they’re seated at the counter, facing each other. Steve has his head lowered down, while Tony leans forward to put his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“But we let him go again. And we couldn’t stop him from killing all those HYDRA-agents,” Steve counters. “Sure, they weren’t innocent, but that doesn’t mean they deserved to be blown up like that.”

“So he’s being a bit extreme. We’ve faced extreme before, and we’ve always taken care of it. There’s no reason you can’t, now.”

Steve sighs again. Tony cups Steve’s cheek and makes him look up.

“I’ve got FRIDAY looking all around the world for him. Eventually he’ll show up again, and when that happens, you’ll be there to stop him.”

Steve nods, and when he leans forward to meet Tony’s lips, Peter quickly closes his eyes again. He can handle much, but watching the two in such a tiny intimate moment feels like a major breach of privacy. The fact that Tony is this calm despite the two of them never having talked about what happened before Steve left is surprising enough. It’s somehow immensely mature of Tony, all of which he’s always been told Tony is not.

“Though in the meantime, I’ll look around for those weapons he’s been selling,” Tony says again after a while. Peter doesn’t look up, but keeps listening instead. “Make sure they’re not ending up in the wrong hands.”

“I appreciate that, Tony,” Steve says, sounding grateful indeed. Then there’s a light scrape of the chairs as the two men probably stand up. “How’s Peter been doing, by the way?”

Tony stays quiet for a little bit. Peter figures he’s thinking about his answer before actually speaking. That’s a lot, coming from Tony, since the guy usually just speaks out everything he’s thinking.

“He’s hit a rough spot,” Tony explains. “Learned the hard way that alcohol and antidepressants don’t go together. Before that, he was doing good.”

“Oh no, is he alright?”

“He’ll be fine eventually. It’s just… a little setback in his revalidation, so to say,” Tony clarifies. Peter hears the two men coming closer. Due to his enhanced hearing, he knows that Tony is reaching out to him, so he keeps himself from startling when Tony gently goes through his hair. “He’s a strong kid. I’m sure he’ll pull himself out of this one.”

“He’s got that from his dad,” Steve adds to that, but only a bitter chuckle comes out of Tony after that.

“He’s stronger than I am,” Tony counters. There’s another shifting noise, and then Peter feels himself being lifted up from the couch, once again taken into Steve’s strong arms. Tony’s hand in his hair disappears as he’s being maneuvered away from the couch.

“You’re strong too,” Steve assures him in a whisper, smile obvious in his voice. “And I care for both of you, so we’ll make sure you’ll both get out of this.”

Peter feels his insides warm up at the confession; Steve cares about him! But in what way? As just a random friend way? Or… maybe more? Would it be too much hope for Peter to have the Captain see him as a son of his own? That he would not only gain one father, but two of them? That would be too lucky, now, would it?

And too soon, as well. He still barely knows anything about the man, despite the many random conversations they’ve had. They have a mutual friend, that one being Yaël (apparently, Peter learned later on, they knew each other from before the girl lost her memory. Yaël has been extremely vague about it and he hasn’t really dared to ask Steve about it yet), and now Steve is (kind of) dating Peter’s father? That would kind of make him Peter’s step-father, right?

He’s gently put back into bed, and there’s another hand going through his hair. Though this time it’s different; while Tony really goes with his fingers over Peter’s scalp in some sort of massage, this gesture is more like being petted. He doesn’t dislike it at all, but he recognizes the difference immediately.

This is Steve touching him. And it’s also Steve who leans forward to kiss him on the forehead.

“Goodnight, son,” Steve whispers addressing him the same way Steve addresses Spider-Man. Peter keeps himself from smiling as Steve pulls away, only for Tony to take his place. Another kiss is planted on his forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, champ,” he whispers as well, out of fear to wake Peter up. “Tomorrow things will be better.”

Then Tony, too, pulls away. After a few footsteps, the door closes and Tony and Steve are out of the room. Peter then turns onto his back, looking at the ceiling and feeling some of the heaviness leave him. Because right now he’s feeling loved. And he’s reminded that it’s not just these two men that love him, but others, too. He’s just forgotten how it feels, only to be reminded of it again right now.

And Peter sleeps soundly the rest of the night.

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