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Being a Stark [Superfamily]

Chapter 20

Peter figures that he’s ready to get back into the action. With Aunt May out to hang with her friends and no homework left for him to do, the teenager stands in front of the mirror to look at the scar he’s got on his abdomen.

It’s only a thin pink line now; healed much faster than it should have. It doesn’t hurt at all anymore, unless applied large pressure on it, which he doesn’t plan on having. He traces it a few times with his fingers, doing the same thing with the scar on his back which looks the exact same way.

The suit, having been put in the closet for a long while, feels a bit stiff after being locked away for such a long time. It takes a few stretching moves to loosen it up a bit. Putting on the mask gives Peter another strange sense of relief. He’s missed being Spider-Man, and he knows he’ll have his work cut out for him tonight; after all, a hiatus of two and half weeks is enough to give the criminals a feeling of security on the streets – which in turns gives the people a feeling of insecurity.

He’s out of the apartment building in no time, already swinging his way out of Queens and heading more into Midtown. That’s where he usually starts, though other than that he doesn’t particularly have a tour to follow. Sometimes he gets all the way to Coney Island, sometimes he even passes through Hell’s Kitchen.

Peter hits the jackpot almost immediately when he sees a couple of people robbing a little store. One of the masked goons is holding up a gun, waiting for the cashier to hand out all of his money. The old man, a true hero in Peter’s eyes, bluntly refuses, shaking his head. Peter figures it’s best to deal with this quickly in order to avoid an old man’s death.

The moment he bursts through the door, he shoots out a web to pull the gun out of the guy’s hands, only to realize a bit too late that, simultaneously, the four other goons point their own weapons at Peter out of reflex.

Eh, at least the shop-keeper is out of danger.

“Uh, hi fellas! What’s going on here?” he asks casually, trying not to think too much about the fact that there’s a gun pointed at him.

“You, stay out of this!” the guy whose gun Peter stole shouts. In turn, he takes out his knife and holds it out dangerously towards Peter, about ready to stab him.

Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen. Two sutures have been enough, thank you very much. Even quicker than the five men can react, Peter shoots out five more webs, one almost immediately after the other. Still, one of the guys is quick enough to respond before the gun is pulled out of his hand, and before Peter knows it there’s a gun headed his way.

Crap, his reflexes hit immediately, making him jump to the right, though not fast enough. The gun grazes over his shoulder, drawing blood and tearing through his suit.

“Hey! Come on! I just fixed this suit!” Peter complains. He’s fixed the damn thing more often than not, and he’s slowly growing tired of it. The materials are expensive enough as it is, and the more he fixes it, the more he comes to realize he might just have to design a whole new thing that will at least be a bit more durable. And offer a bit more protection. He might try and use some stuff Tony’s using for his own mystery suit.

The goons let out a simultaneous growl, and they rush towards Peter, fists raised in the air and anger clear enough to be read in their eyes through the masks. Meanwhile, the shop-keeper hides behind the counter and grabs for the phone above him.

Fighting these goons feels just like old times. He avoids, jumps and steps aside, but never throws the punch. It’s better to just wait for these guys to tire themselves out. Which they do rather quickly. As the one on his left starts gasping for breath, the one on his right takes a few steps back to get his composure back on. The other three start failing their punches even more, and that’s when Peter strikes.

Using his webs to bind their hands together, the men find themselves unable to get free. With loud and breathy gasps, Peter then lets go of five more webs, aiming them at their feet to pull them along. As they glide across the floor, Peter opens the door back up and makes sure to install his signature web-trap for the police to find. After making sure that they won’t be able to escape, Peter hurries back inside.

“Hey, do you have a piece of paper and a marker?”

In the next hour, he’s gone through all of Midtown. He follows a mugger all the way to Hell’s Kitchen where he finds a surprising lack of Daredevil, somehow. Then, when the sirens ring, Peter decides to track the police cars, which brings him in Brooklyn all of the sudden.

Finding that there’s nothing other than one more armed robbery, Peter quickly takes care of it as well, handing out the group of criminals to the police. The only thing he’s got from it is another gun-graze – which means that he’s been extremely lucky tonight, since that’s twice in one evening! (His reflexes don’t seem to be on their best today… He needs more warm-up.)

Feeling a small ache in his side from all the action, Peter decides to take a small rest on top of a building. He sits down with his feet hanging over the edge, and he takes a good look around him, taking in the permanent wakefulness that is New York. He’s never been in Brooklyn much, but he finds it familiar enough to know his way in and out.

It’s ten minutes into his break on the roof that he sees them; they come out of a fancy car that is parked in front of a pizzeria – the chances that they’d find someplace to park is even a wonder – dressed in clothing one would wear at a fancy party. Tony is coming out of the driver’s seat, hurrying towards the other side to open up the door for none other than Steve. He holds out his hand for the Captain to take, and then, like a gentleman, he helps his date out of the car.

Because that’s what Peter supposes this is; a date.

His first instinct is to call out for them, make them know that he’s here and to wish them luck. But he quickly thinks better of it; Steve nor Tony know about Peter Parker and Spider-Man being the same person. The more time they even spend with Peter, the bigger the chances become that they might recognize him through his voice alone, no matter how much he tries to lower it down.

Peter stays quiet, watching how Tony says something to Steve, who starts laughing genuinely. The two make their way to a pizzeria Peter knows has been here a long time. Peter figures that must be back from Steve’s time when he sees the Captain’s reaction upon seeing the building in front of him.

He doesn’t hear what they’re saying, only that Steve looks extremely grateful, pressing a kiss on Tony’s cheek before pulling him inside. That’s when Peter loses sight of them, and decides not to linger any longer.

The two should be able to enjoy their date without Peter stalking them.

Cursing himself for still feeling that ache in his scar – he clearly wasn’t as healed as he thought – Peter starts to slowly make his way back to Queens. Once home, he takes a shower, a light painkiller Dr. Cho prescribed him, and then he heads to bed.

One look at his cellphone, he finds that he’s got a few texts. Mostly from Wade, two more from Ned.

And surprisingly, one from Michelle. Opening it, he finds a video message that he immediately recognizes as the video of his fight with Yaël at the party she tried to show him back at school.

Deciding not to open it just yet, Peter puts his phone aside and closes his eyes, sleep catching him almost immediately.

“You’re actually driving us,” Steve states as Tony takes a seat behind the wheel. He grins widely at his date in confirmation.

“I do drive sometimes, you know,” he states. In one swift motion, he turns the car around and heads away from the compound, back towards the city. As always, traffic is a nightmare, but that’s why Tony had calculated that he should make the reservations at eight instead of seven. That gives them a full hour to get there, and if they’re early, Tony will just take him out for a walk through Brooklyn.

That’s his plan; after finding out that there’s a certain pizza-place that has been there even before the second world war, he immediately read up an article about it where the owner from back then proudly said that the one and only Captain America used to be a regular customer before being called to war. Tony put two and two together, and decided they don’t fancy food to have a good date.

He keeps his mouth shut about their destination the entire ride, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re headed to Brooklyn. Steve, who seems about just as nervous as Tony is feeling, is practically jumping up and down his seat. What this guy’s fixation is with Brooklyn, Tony wonders if he’ll ever know.

“So how did your day with Peter go yesterday?” Steve asks casually when they’re once again stuck in traffic. Tony, who without thinking had grabbed Steve’s hand during the drive, hums out happily remembering the good day.

“It was great; I took him and his Aunt to Disneyland, and I suppose we’ve got our first father-son picture together, though there’s the two large plush-mice to consider.”

“You mean Mickey and Minnie Mouse?” Steve asks with a chuckle. Tony just grins again before squeezing Steve’s hand. After a few seconds he realizes he should let go for now; he’s already acting too much like they’re an actual couple, and their first date has barely started.

Steve seems disappointed in the loss of contact, and so is Tony, but an agreement is an agreement. Instead, Tony puts his right hand on the wheel, and rests his left elbow in the open window.

“Can I see the pictures?” Steve asks then. Tony nods, before leaning towards the dashboard and opening up the screen.

“FRIDAY, can you put up the pics May took from yesterday?” he asks.

“Of course,” FRIDAY answers in that usual dry way of hers. Tony doesn’t need to look at the screen to know the pictures are up. He hears it in the way Steve is reaching forward to scroll through them.

“These are amazing, Tony,” Steve exclaims. “You look happy.”

And if the car hadn’t been standing still back then, he would have stopped it at that sudden thought. He looks ‘happy’, so Steve says. But, when he thinks of it, he’d been happy, too. Despite that heavy feeling of clouds hanging above his head for months since his break-up with Pepper, now he’s actually feeling good somehow.

With that thought, Tony turns his head towards Steve, staring at him with his mouth fallen open. Peter makes him happy. Steve makes him happy. His life is going further, and he’s no longer having the feeling like being dragged along. Even this date has been his idea.

He’s taking it back into his hands.

Without any warning, Tony leans forward, grabbing Steve by the cheek and kissing him full on the mouth. It’s not a quick peck, not at all. It’s something more than that; a promise that he’s fine, that he’s doing better. A promise that he will try and be someone good for Steve, for Peter.

A promise that he’ll take better care of himself whenever he’s feeling down again.

Though, even in this kiss, all he asks in return is that Steve never leaves him without any good reason. That Steve stays by his side, guides him through the worst. That, while Tony will take care of him, Steve takes care of him in return.

“Fuck, I adore you,” Tony mutters against Steve’s lips right before pulling back. Steve’s cheeks are colored red, as always whenever they kiss. Despite the countless times of making out, Steve still gets flustered from a short kiss on the mouth. Isn’t he ever-adorable?

“I, uh,” Steve starts, stammering out his words. “Likewise,” he finishes. Tony just snorts. He pecks him one last time, but eventually pulls back completely to focus back on the road. Traffic is starting to move forward again, so he prepares himself to accelerate.

“Ever so good with words, Rogers,” Tony teases him. Without looking, he reaches out with his hand until he’s touching Steve’s cheek. Then he strokes it shortly before getting the hand back on the wheel. Steve stops him midway, grabbing Tony’s hand and holding on to it as if it’s a lifeline.

Right, so much for their couple of steps back. Ah, well, they didn’t say they would go back to the complete beginning, right?

Twenty more minutes, the two men have been stuck in traffic. Following FRIDAY’s suggestions on multiple parking spaces, Tony finds somewhere to stop very close to their destination, which is where he heads to. Once the engine is shut down, Tony holds up his hand in a waiting gesture towards Steve, instructing him to stay into the car.

Then he hurries out, running around the car to get to the other door. Trying to be a true gentleman, he bows forward before opening the door, holding out his hand to hand it to Steve, who rolls his eyes but can’t seem to help himself from grinning.

“Am I wooing you, yet?” Tony asks once he closes up the car, pulling Steve along by his hand towards the destination he has in mind. It’s only around the corner of the street they’re parked in, so it’s not far at all. Steve still has no clue.

“You’re getting there,” Steve tells him with a wink, and Tony bumps up against him playfully.

“I’m going to have to pull out all the stops, then,” Tony teased back. Steve lets out a small chuckle, squeezing Tony’s hand and pulling it up to press a quick kiss against his knuckles.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you; you’re Tony Stark, after all,” he assures him. Tony smiles lightly before pulling him along. It’s about time they get to their destination, because Tony is starving, and he’s sure Steve is, too.

His reaction upon seeing the pizzeria in front of him in what must be a very familiar hallway is priceless. Steve has his mouth fallen open, eyes open wide, as he stares at the windows he recognizes, along with the name of the place, the little flowers drawn with an artistic hand against the door, where now a plate is put up with ‘PUSH’ written on it.

“How did you-?” he starts to ask, but he can’t seem to finish. That’s alright, Steve knows the question.

“You told me once this is where you and Bucky used to go when you were younger. You also once said to me that these flowers on the door were actually painted by you, though it looks like they’ve been repainted a little while back.”

Looking at the yellow, happy flowers, Tony can’t help but smile. He can recognize Steve’s style in there immediately. It’s in the perfect, neat lines, the little attention to detail. Tony loves everything about this artwork, even if it’s public property.

Suddenly, he’s pulled into an extremely strong hug. He shouldn’t even be surprised by Steve’s reaction, though the breath is still stolen out of his lungs. After a small moment of shock, Tony manages to put up another smile and gently taps Steve on the back.

“C’mon, I got a reservation at eight, so we’re actually eight minutes late,” Tony tells him. Steve quickly pulls back, keeping his hands on Tony’s arms and looking deeply into his eyes.

“Thank you, Tony. Really.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony answers. After that, he motions for them to get inside.

The waiter points them at their table after a quick explanation. The pizzeria isn’t the fanciest of eating places, but it’s got a nostalgic vibe in it. In the background, the typical Italian music is playing. On the walls, aside from more of Steve’s obvious artwork, framed pictures are hanging. One of them is from the current owner’s father, posing for the picture with none other than the man sitting in front of Tony right now.

The two look at it, but soon enough, Tony turns his attention towards Steve, seeing the other man’s reaction to it.

Steve looks quiet, eyes checking out the photograph of himself with a man that used to be a friend. Even from this far, Tony can see that it’s signed, though what it says, he can’t read.

“’Keep on bakin’!’. That’s what it says,” Steve explains. Before Tony can say anything in return, the waiter offers them the menu. Steve thanks him, giving him a smile before he walks off again. At first, he seems hesitant on opening the door, but after a while he does cast a glance towards it.

Tony can see quickly enough that the menu, too, has been designed by Steve. Is this whole place pimped up by him? Tony knows the guy did some freelance painting jobs, but it’s almost as if Steve designed this whole place!

Which is weird, in a way, since usually it’s Tony who designs places.

“And he did,” Tony adds to Steve, who smiles and looks down. Then he puts his hand on the table, close enough to touch. Tony, not stupid at all, knows an invitation when he sees one. Without hesitation, he reaches up his hand, resting it on top of Steve’s and gently stroking his skin under his fingertips.

“Did you rent off the place just so we can be alone?” Steve asks, obviously being with this question for a little while now. Tony snorts, but doesn’t deny it.

“I figured we weren’t really… we don’t want the world to find out that we’re-“

“In a relationship?” Steve tries to finish when Tony hesitates on his words.

“No, uh, just… this?” Tony corrects him, gesturing to all around him. Steve smirks and leans back a bit in his seat.

“People would call this ‘dating’,” Steve offers. Tony rolls his eyes but he can’t help the smirk on his lips.

“I know, but applying that term to me makes it sound like I’ve got a midlife crisis,” Tony mutters, mostly to himself. Of course, Steve would hear it!

“Let’s just admit it Tony; you’ve been having a midlife crisis almost all your life.”

Steve gets a small glare for that, but Tony doesn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he uses his fingers to squeeze Steve’s teasingly.

“Shut up, fossil,” Tony fights back, but he knows it’s hopeless.

Their evening goes like this most of the time. After getting their orders, they dive into conversation. Steve finds out more about Tony’s time with the Jarvis’, and Steve, in turn, tells Tony about his adventures with Bucky. Most of their adventures end up with the two of them, hanging out on this very spot. It intrigues Tony, giving him chills at the idea that he gets to know so many things about Steve.

Three hours into their date, they decide to head out. Tony pays the bill, guiding Steve out of the restaurant. After another short trip, Tony parks his car again in an empty parking lot. Before he can open up the door to help Steve out, the super soldier is already standing outside.

“What more do you have planned?” Steve asks, then. Tony just smirks, but doesn’t say anything. Leading them to a little alleyway with nothing really inside of it. Just when Steve opens his mouth to ask what’s going on, Tony opens up a side-door, nodding towards Steve as an indication that he should get inside.

It’s probably the sound of the music reaching Steve’s ears that makes his mouth drop open in surprise. Allowing Tony to pull him inside, Steve seems shocked at hearing what must probably be familiar notes to his ears.

“What is this place, Tony?” Steve asks, a little confused. Tony doesn’t say anything. Their hands are still tied together, and before they know it, they’re standing in an open room, filled with people dancing like their lives depend on it. Everybody in the darkened room is laughing, the spotlight continuously falling on whatever couple is dancing in the center.

They’re swinging. Literally.

Tony found out about this place mostly by surprise. When he looked up stuff that had to do with the forties, he stumbled across a website of a small organization that hosts small dance parties dedicated to certain era’s. Every Monday it’s the forties, which is why Tony has dragged Steve all the way here.

“My, uh… Aunty Peggy used to tell me about how she wanted to take you dancing, but she never got to do that.” Tony turns to look at Steve, grabbing now both of his hands. “I figured… I could take you, instead?”

Steve seems speechless. Worry immediately grows over Tony’s thoughts.

“I mean, if you don’t want to, I’d understand. It’s something you wanted to do with her and maybe this is all just a reminder of what you’ve lost, and maybe this was just a stupid idea and forget about it let’s just go back to-“

A finger is put on Tony’s lips, right before it’s replaced with Steve’s mouth on his. The kiss is short and firm, and once Steve pulls back, his hands hold on to Tony’s arms tightly.

“I would love to dance with you, Tony,” Steve assures him. “Though I don’t know how?”

Tony smiles lightly.

“I’ll teach you, just follow my lead,” he answers, before pulling Steve along on the dancefloor, but staying on the side. It’s time to dance to the swing of the music.






It’s only typical for Peter to go to the compound as soon as school is over. Happy is already waiting for him, being as distant as always – Peter just figures it’s more a thing about being uncomfortable around kids and teens rather than him just not liking him. Through the crowded traffic, Happy curses at incompetent drivers once every while. Peter doesn’t point it out, knowing he’ll only be met with silence.

Arriving at the Compound is just like always; he’s greeted by a few of the Avengers, heads to the kitchen to grab a coffee for him and Tony, and then he heads to the workshop to get some work going.

It’s nearing the end of May, now, and finals are getting closer again. Of course, Peter knows that he’s going to nail every test, and he’s almost certain that he’s raised up his points enough with this internship. Even the teachers seem positive that he’s going to pass his year, which is why he’s not really worried about it anymore.

With the sunlight shining right into the workshop, Peter notices immediately that there’s something missing. Or rather, someone…

“Where’s your babysit?” Peter asks Tony, putting down the cup of coffee he brought along on Tony’s desk as soon as he nears him. The engineer looks up at his son, and offers him a smile.

“I convinced the boss I’m clear,” Tony says with a wink, groaning a bit when he stands up and Peter, who had been in the middle of drinking, chokes on the hot liquid.

“Gross, man, I don’t need to know about what you and Steve are doing when I’m gone!” Peter mutters, complaining about the image he desperately tries to get out of his mind.

“Now who’s a dirty thinker? There was no sexy-time involved, if you really want to know,” Tony offers with another smirk on his lips. Peter lowers his cup, knowing he won’t be drinking it any time soon. Tony, in return, just laughs even louder. “C’mon, I’m sure I don’t need to have the big talk with you, do I?”

“Please, don’t,” Peter groans. He sits down at his desk next to Tony’s, gives Dum-E a pat on his head, and then starts drawing out the first drafts for his newest idea, since the suit is – according to Tony – completely finished.

“What’cha working on?” Tony asks. Peter doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, something he knows Tony does as well when he’s concentrating really hard.

“Just… thought about doing what you did – with Dum-E? I thought he would like a little cousin.” Peter shrugs as he draws out the first design for his own bot. He doesn’t know how long it’ll take for him to finish this one, but it’s a nice project.

“Sounds… amazing,” Tony breathes out, hurrying towards Peter’s side to see what he’s got so far. “I wouldn’t make this so long; it’ll throw it out of balance.” Tony points his finger at the neck of the bot that Peter created.

“Huh, you’re right,” Peter mutters out. He erases a part of the neck, and makes it shorter.

For the following ten minutes, the two get themselves working on the first few designs until Peter chases him off, telling him that he wants to make this one himself. Tony surrenders with a laugh, and gets to work on his own thing.

They do their own thing for about two hours until the door opens, revealing Steve coming their way. Peter gives him a small wave, and he gets a hand passing over his head – messing up his hair – in return.

“Good evening, Peter,” Steve says, pulling his hand away. Peter just hums at him, hearing Steve make his way towards Tony. Then, at last, he looks up. Tony is still seated at his desk, working on whatever he’s working on. Steve is leaning over him, looking over his shoulder to see what’s going on. Peter can see the super soldier passing his hand over Tony’s back.

“You’re sweaty,” Tony mutters. Steve snorts.

“Just came back from working out. Wanted to check on you two, see if everything’s alright,” Steve explains. Peter snorts a little bit, but he puts his stuff down.

“Hey, uh, I’m going to take a little walk for a bit, okay?” he calls out. Tony waves at him, nodding in understanding. Then Peter gets up from his desk and starts heading towards the door. He knows that, as soon as those two are together, they won’t really notice him being gone for at least a little while. These two are still too much into the honeymoon phase.

Peter knows that they’re taking things slow again; he’s aware of the dates they’ve been going on, almost going three times in a single week. Peter’s been counting them, knowing that their next date tonight will be their seventh. What they do all the time, though, he has no idea about.

Peter pulls out his phone and starts to compose a message together.

- I’m doing it now.

In under a minute, he gets Ned’s reply.

- I'm not sure about this, Peter. It doesn't sound like a good idea

- C'mon pal, you know how much it means to me.

- ... alright, but be careful.

Peter snorts again, wondering when he’s ever been careful. For the past few days he’s been wandering around in the compound, checking out the place and figuring out where everything exactly is. He’s been planning this for a while, waiting for the right opportunity. The best one is when both Steve and Tony are distracted, since they’re the ones who will mostly be looking for him. The others probably think he’s already heading back home.

Following the directions the way he remembers them, he finds himself in front of a reinforced door. He knows what’s behind there, but he’s never been inside. Carefully, Peter holds up his hand to the doorknob and tries turning it around.

It won’t budge, much like last time.

“May I ask what you intend to do, Mr. Parker?”

Peter looks up, shrugging a bit like it’s not that big of a deal.

“I want to see him,” he returns. There’s only a moment of silence from FRIDAY. “Tony can’t know about this.”

“You know I can’t lie to him, Peter,” FRIDAY responds. Peter sighs.

“If he asks after it specifically,” Peter returns. “He’s otherwise engaged, right now. He won’t be asking.”

Another moment of hesitation coming from FRIDAY, and then suddenly the door opens, revealing a light hallway in front of him with multiple doors on each side of the hallway. It looks very much like a psychiatric ward in all those movies.

Peter takes a few careful steps forward. He’s got no idea where to look, but the doors have small little viewing glasses. One by one, Peter gives a look through them, finding only empty rooms.

Only at the end of the hallway, a room is occupied. It’s a slightly bigger room than the other one. The person inside of it looks sick in every way. His skin looks almost green, with weird scars all over his skin. His hair is messy, going almost every way. His eyes, once blue and happy, now look empty and hollow, almost devoid of all colors.

Harry Osborn doesn’t look anything like how he used to be. He’d been falling apart before he took in the Spider-Vendom, but now… It’s almost like he’s undergone a complete transformation. His arms are stuck inside a suit, much like they’re wearing in all those cheap movies. He looks every bit like the psychiatric patiënt, only with less security around him.

“Aren’t there any guards?” Peter asks.

“Mr. Stark has put the security system at its maximum here. There’s a small army of the Iron Legion nearby. The doors are reinforced, and we’ve taken away all possibilities for him to escape.”

Peter doesn’t seem too sure about that; Harry already escaped twice. He’s crafty enough, always waiting for the right opportunity.

Peter just hopes he’s not about to create one for him, now.

“Will you let me in?” Peter asks.

“I don’t think that’s a good-“

“Just do it, please. He’s my friend,” Peter begs of her. FRIDAY doesn’t answer, but only opens up the door, giving Peter the chance to walk inside. Behind him, it closes again, locking him in this cell with the shadow of his former best friend.

“Harry?” Peter asks. The figure on the ground shudders a bit upon hearing his voice. Peter takes a careful step forward. He tries again. “Harry, it’s me; Peter.”

It’s only when he gets close enough that he realizes Harry hadn’t been shivering.

He’d been laughing, silently.

“Hello, Peter,” Harry says, looking up smugly.

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