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Being a Stark [Superfamily]
Chapter 26
The moment Peter arrives back in New York, the first thing he does is fall right back into the couch. With Aunt May currently not working – meaning she’s at home – Peter decides to just crash at the Tower. It wouldn’t do him well if she would find him bruised and limping, asking questions on how he ended up in this state.
I helped dad fight a literal giant. It was awesome and horrible at the same time. He can’t say that. Especially because the person he actually was supposed to fight was Steve. Steve.
It had hurt, to be facing him, bantering in his usual way without being able to tell him that it’s him. Steve had pulled his punches, that much was clear, but the fact that they were fighting together and they weren’t at the same side… No, Peter doesn’t like it one bit.
In one instant, when Peter called out for him… he could have sworn Steve knew. He looked at him, eyes wide and about to say something. But then he didn’t. And Peter was left alone.
When Happy asked him where he could drop him off, Peter had just said something in the line of ‘Stark Tower. I can just take a cab after that’. Happy had complied, not seeing that Peter actually went inside the building instead of getting another ride.
Getting out of the suit is easier now; a quick push on the button loosens the suit. Peter can just walk out of it without having to dance his typical ‘damn this is a tight suit and I can’t take it off’-routine. Having forgotten the case in the hotel, Peter just throws it underneath the couch for now right before dropping into it.
Landing on the soft surface pulls out a groan from him. His muscles ache, his head hurts. The bruise on his right eye doesn’t help. How is he going to explain that to Tony? He could say he got in another fight on the streets, but either way, he’ll get trouble from it. Maybe he just fell against something? Walked some stairs and accidentally dropped his face onto Flash’ fist?
Like anybody would be able to believe that.
“Status update, FRIDAY?” Peter asks.
“Sir has just arrived in Siberia,” FRIDAY tells him. Peter sits up in confusion.
“Siberia? I thought he was on his way back?” At least, that’s what he got from their last conversation on the phone. It was made right after Peter woke back up in his hotel room. Though, if it’s going to take a bit longer until Tony returns, he could relax for a moment.
“He’s currently there to help Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. After finishing there, he’s going to head back to New York.”
Peter stays quiet. What can he really say? It’s a good sign, right? That Tony is in Siberia to help Steve. That means that he’s over their misunderstanding, no? Peter knows Tony wouldn’t just take flying to a whole other country far away lightly – especially not after the accords.
Oh, crap, is Tony going to get in trouble for heading there?
Peter groans when he stands back up. He needs something to drink, to clear his throat a little bit. He slowly limps towards the kitchenette. There he takes out a glass, which he fills with some water. Leaning against the counter, Peter slowly drinks it up, eyes rested on his cellphone in his hands.
There’s no news, from nowhere. It’s practically the middle of the night, so nobody he knows is still awake. And he’s too tired to head out. He should just sleep.
Dropping his phone on the counter, Peter limps back to the couch. Now, pulling a blanket over him, he falls asleep immediately.
The tower is dark when Tony arrives back. There’s a quinjet on the landing platform, the sunlight is shining brightly onto his skin – a stark contrast in comparison to the cold he felt back in Siberia – and the inside of the penthouse is clearly darkened.
That makes Tony frown; he thought Peter was here? Or does that mean that he’s still asleep? Why would he still be sleeping? It’s almost past noon, Peter’s usually awake around nine?
“FRIDAY, light?” he asks, and immediately the daylight passes right back through the windows and Tony can finally see where he’s walking again.
“Welcome back, sir.”
“Where’s Peter?” he asks.
“He’s in the living room, currently asleep on the couch,” FRIDAY tells him. Tony nods, walking through his workshop and quickly checking if everything is still alright here. Then he moves out, takes the elevator up, and walks straight into the living room. So Peter’s on the couch, Tony isn’t going to wake him just yet. There’s a talk they’re going to have here, and Tony knows it’s not going to be a pleasant one. Too much crap has happened – so much that even Tony can’t really think much about it.
(He did, back in the quinjet; he put in the coordinates to New York, and then put FRIDAY on the wheel as he took a moment to have his inner panic attack. It wasn’t pleasant, and it still hurts his chest to think about it – though that could be the shield-shaped bruise he’s gotten onto his torso now.
Coming across a certain Wakandan Prince carrying a bound Helmut Zemo back to his own aircraft, they came to an understanding. Tony would take the quinjet, and T’Challa promised to take Steve and Barnes along with them. At least that way Tony knew that Steve would safely find his way out.)
Heading to the kitchenette, Tony takes all he needs to prepare his hot coco. It’s what his mother made for him whenever he wasn’t feeling well, and he knows Peter isn’t going to feel well after this. The way the kid looks up at Steve, watching him with such adoration. He’s going to take it really hard.
Tony promised to do his best and bring him back here. He failed. He’s the one who pushed him away.
His eyes sting when the memory of a video image comes back into mind, and he shakes his head, holding back a sob. No, not now. Not here. He needs to hold it together, at least until he’s told his story to Peter.
On his way to the kitchenette, he comes across Peter’s phone on the counter. It’s vibrating, a vaguely familiar tune indicating that he’s getting a phone call. Tony takes the phone into his hand, but doesn’t pick up.
Steve’s name is written on the screen. Tony shivers, shaking his head. Of course Steve would try and call up Peter to tell him he’s not coming back. It’s the least he can do.
The phone call stops, and all Tony can then see is a picture he’s only seen shortly in passing. Peter never really likes to show it, uneasy to talk about it. And even now it feels slightly like he’s invading his privacy, but Tony still finds himself staring at the picture in the background.
It’s Peter and Gwen. It must have been winter, since they’re both wearing bonnets. Peter is smiling at the camera, without the ghosts in his eyes. Without the trouble Tony keeps on seeing in him when he looks at him. Peter is happy, with Gwen’s hand on his one cheek and her lips against his other.
She was so young… poor girl, Tony thinks to himself. They had been dealing with Ultron back when it happened, so they weren’t in New York. To imagine, had Tony not created such a mess, they might have been able to save her.
Then, taking another quick look at the picture, Tony is reminded of a lazy Sunday morning a few weeks back. Steve slept in for once, and it came to the rare point where Tony was awake before him. Tony had pulled out his cellphone and woke Steve up by kissing him on the cheek, exactly at the same time that he took a picture. It had been a good one, and it’s still, currently, saved onto his phone.
Best to just put the phone down, he realizes. Peter is not going to like him going through his stuff. Tony sighs and lets it go, finally heading to the kitchenette and preparing the hot Coco.
Once it’s finished, he takes the two mugs and makes his way to the couches.
“Peter, are you awake?” he asks. “Listen, I made some hot coco. There’s something we need to talk about.”
Once Peter comes into view, Tony frowns. There he lies, his son, deeply asleep on the couch. The one thing standing out immediately being the massive black eye he’s sporting. Only then does Tony notice the bruises on Peter’s arms, the paleness in his face. The mess that his hair has become.
“PETER PARKER?” he almost shouts, mostly trying to just wake Peter up. It works; the teenager startles and drops out of the couch, tangled into the blanket.
“Dad? You’re back already?!” Peter calls back, trying to get out from his own trap on the ground. Tony just stands there, holding the two mugs into his hands and frowning down at his son, who is looking like somebody has been using him as a personal punching bag.
“Peter Parker, why are you bruised all over?” he asks, using his serious tone. Peter swallows nervously, standing up at last. Wearing only a t-shirt, he fails at trying to hide the bruises on his arms away.
“It’s, uh- I was- uh…” but then Peter’s eyes go wide, quickly looking around Tony in search for something. “Dad, where’s Steve?”
Tony doesn’t answer. Instead, he puts his brains to work. Thinking back of Peter’s phone, the familiar tune of his ringtone. He was sure that he heard it before, and now he remembers. On the plane. On their way to Berlin.
“FRIDAY, where’s the Spider-Man suit currently located?” Tony asks, ignoring Peter’s question.
“The suit is currently underneath the couch Master Parker had been utilizing,” FRIDAY answers.
“Dad, tell me, please!”
Tony ignores him. He drops the mugs down on the coffee table and kneels down on the ground. Ignoring the pain in his left shoulder as he leans on it, he reaches underneath the couch and finds there the familiar fabric of the suit he’s been working on with Peter.
“Peter, why do you have the suit?” he asks but another part of him knows the answer. It’s so obvious. The way the kid’s voice seemed to sound familiar, no matter how much he tries to shield it away. The way they’re the same height, age, have the same sense of humor. The fact that Peter was there when Gwen Stacy died. The web-shooters…
The way it was obvious for Tony that the kid didn’t want to fight Steve. Because Peter wouldn’t want to do it, yet he still did it because Tony asked…
The ringtone…
“Dad, where’s Steve?” Peter keeps on begging, tears clear in his eyes. But all Tony can see is red from anger; how could he not have seen this before? Had he known, he would never have pulled Peter into this. This whole fight; it shouldn’t have been with Peter. The fact that he just asked his son to practically fight against his other idol – his other father-figure…
What does that make of him?
“Why do you have the suit?!” he bites at Peter, but then he sees Peter’s face again as if for the first time. Eyes red from the tears, Peter stands there, bruised and broken, begging Tony for an answer. He wants to know where Steve is, he’s begging here, and all Tony can do is snap at him. All he can do is being a horrible father; again.
And Peter flinches a bit when Tony stands up, dropping the suit back onto the ground. Then, after a few seconds, Tony opens up his arms and immediately, Peter practically jumps into them. With his face pressed against Tony’s shoulder, he sobs it out, letting go of the tears and the uncertainty.
Of course, this causes for Tony to let out his own tears, as well.
“I’m so sorry, Peter. Steve… it was all my fault,” Tony admits. Peter doesn’t answer. But what can he say?
Putting his hand behind Peter’s head, he pulls him even closer.
“But we’re going to be fine; it’s going to be okay,” Tony assures him, even though he doesn’t really believe it himself. The idea of having to go on without Steve grounding him just feels like agony.
But he supposes that’s what it’s like, being a dad. It’s all about pretending to think everything will sort itself out. And maybe, if he thinks it for long enough, he might even believe it.
Two months later
Peter listens to the same song every day.
It’s not like it has sentimental value in it, or anything like that. He just finds it a good song; it’s catchy, it’s got some good vibes, and it helps him relax a little bit as he stands in a full train on his way back to Queens.
With there being no empty seats, he stands in the hallway with his headphones on, eyes resting on the keyboard he’s currently using to send his texts. All in the while, his music keeps on playing.
Okay, so is it really that bad to be listening to Toto’s Africa for the past week? Tony surely seems to find it hilarious, but then again, Tony has the weirdest music-taste, too.
Sending the message, Peter once again doesn’t expect an answer. He’s pretty sure the number has been disconnected, after all; it would have been the wisest thing to do.
Just came out of school. On my way to the tower to hang out with Tony for a bit.
The past few texts have been more of the same. They’re just small little updates on his life, things he wants Steve to know, despite knowing that he won’t ever get to see these. And if Tony would be aware he’s doing this, he’ll be feeling horrible again, so it’s his mission nowadays not to let the man know.
There’s just one more secret, but at least the biggest one is revealed.
Besides, he got to keep the suit, after all.
He isn’t lying when he says that he’s on his way to the tower to hang out with Tony for a bit. He’s saying the truth, but he’s just not mentioning that he’s doing a few more stops on the way. So he gets off the train a few stops too soon, goes to buy his stuff at Delmar’s Deli-Grocery, hurries himself into a small alley, and gets out of his clothes.
There’s nobody around. The only one seeing him change is a stray cat, who hurries off the moment it realizes it’s not alone.
To compare the two different suits… it almost seems impossible. Sure, Peter did the best he could with what he had at the time, and it’s not like the previous suit was such a horrible thing. But this one… it’s just not even in the same wavelength!
It’s more flexible, more durable. He doesn’t sweat in it, doesn’t get lines in his skin from it being too tight in some places. The lenses they’ve installed on it even help him focus on stuff more than the previous sunglasses did.
If he could be in love with a suit, it would describe perfectly what he’s feeling right now. After all, the suit doesn’t tear.
So he might be kicking down some trashcans in his enthusiasm to put it on… that doesn’t mean that he’s being irresponsible, right?
With his food in hands, the first thing he comes across is somebody stealing a bike. He deals with the thief easy enough, but finding the owner of the bike proves to be harder than he thought.
Surfing a bit on the internet while eating his snacks, Peter sits on the roof of a train. The hot summer sun is shining down on him, but he doesn’t feel it. That’s how awesome his suit is!
His browser history lately only contains the latest news about Captain America; if he’s been found yet, what the latest update on him is. People are describing him as a criminal now, but Peter knows that’s not who he is. Steve can’t be a criminal. And he’s sure Tony’s already working on fixing this.
Right? That must be what Tony’s been doing these past two months.
Being recognized while being on watch on a roof, Peter can’t help but smirk. When the person asks him to do a backflip, he doesn’t question it but shows off his trick. All he gets is an enthusiastic shout in return.
Seeing an old lady walking the same street for the fifth time, he decides to come down and help her. She offers him a churro as thanks after he showed her the way. He eats that on the roof of a building while he toys around a bit with his web shooters. Tony has been amusing himself ever since Peter gave him the formula to create the web fluid. He’s been making tons of stuff Peter could use – maybe even too much. Peter can’t catch up!
And that’s when he comes across a bank robbery. He smirks, puts his web fluid back in the shooters, and gets off his ass.
“Finally something good,” he says. Sure, it’s not like he’s been doing nothing all day, but to be honest – after the Lizard and Electro – Peter knows he can do more. Stopping a robbery might just be the thing that will make his Dad understand that he can do so much more.
As Peter sneaks into the bank, he quickly sees that the gadgets they’re using are way too advanced to even consider this a normal robbery. Holy crap, what is he getting himself into now?
Peter closes the door when the three robbers wearing a Cap, Thor and Hulk-mask are loading in the money. The man with the Iron Man-mask (a version that looks even worse than the one Peter had when he was a kid) stands guard with his gun up. Is that a shotgun? Peter wouldn’t know, he isn’t too familiar with weapons of that kind.
Standing in front of a poster that talks about identity theft, Peter leans against the door, putting a hand on his hip while he waits for the men to turn around. He clears his throat once.
“’sup guys, forget your pin-number?” Peter asks casually. Simultaneously, all the plastic, cartoony faces of the Avengers turn to look at him. Then he points at them. “Whoa, you’re the Avengers! What are you guys doing here?”
The Iron Man loads up the gun and points it at Peter. Out of reflex, he snatches it out of his hands with his webs. With a practiced movement, he pulls the gun away so it smashes the men on their heads. As a result, Iron Man and Cap drop down on the ground with a groan. The Thor then tries to land in an elbow-punch, but Peter catches it immediately, pushing the elbow back until the man’s fist punches the Hulk in the face instead. The two fall down on the ground with a grunt as well, though the Thor-man flies against the poster, breaking the glass that covers it.
“Thor, Hulk, glad to finally meet you guys as well,” Peter jokes on. “Thought you guys would be more handsome in person.”
He turns around just in time to avoid another blow, this time from the Iron man.
“Iron Man?! What are you doing robbing a bank? You’re a billionaire?” Peter continues, easily pushing the man away towards the Hulk, who in turn falls to the ground again, as well. The Cap picks up a weapon and points it towards Peter.
That’s when his internal alarms start ringing. He tries to jump away, but suddenly he’s floating into the air.
“Whoa, this is so weird!” he complains. When he’s pushed out of suspension, he smashes against Hulk and Thor – man, these guys never really catch a break, do they? Peter doesn’t pay attention to them, instead just leaning up a bit to face the Cap-man. “Whoa, what is that thing?” he asks, wishing his voice wouldn’t squeak that much.
The Cap just repeats what he did before, lifting Peter up against the ceiling and back to the ground, and repeating the process a few times.
“I’m starting to think you’re not the Avengers!” Peter bites out in between being smashed all the time. He’s starting to feel a bit nauseated, right now. With a quick trick, he incapacitates Cap, making the man drop down with another grunt. The weapon falls out of his hands, and Peter is back safely on his two feet.
He messes around a bit more, even sticking the Iron Man’s arms against the shattered windows and pulling off his mask slightly while he asks where they got their weapons. But an answer is never given, when the Hulk loads up another gun, and suddenly a purple beam is blinding him. Sparks are flying everywhere, heat coming too close to Peter’s suit – the fact that he feels that means that it’s extremely hot.
The moment the beam is gone, Peter takes a quick look around to check the damage. His heart sinks when he sees Mr. Delmar’s shop there, in ruins. Immediately forgetting the criminals at his feet, Peter hurries outside to look for survivors.
Once Mr. Delmar and his cat are out, Peter quickly coms to the realization that they’ve escaped. While still holding the cat, he hunches his shoulders a bit and sighs.
“Oh, come on,” he mutters bitterly. Hearing the police sirens, Peter decides it’s best to just get away. Handing the cat back to Mr. Delmar – he’s going to have to ask Tony about donating some money to the guy to build his shop back up – Peter hurries away. It’s probably time to head back home, after all. He hurries back to the alleyway to pick up his backpack, only to find that it’s no longer there.
“Ah, crap,” he mutters to himself. He’s been too careless about where he’s been throwing his stuff lately. He needs better places to hide it away. The wall might have been too obvious for a homeless person walking by. It’s best to just swing his way back to the tower then.
It’s almost nine in the evening when he’s finally crawled his way up to the top floor of Stark Tower. It always takes a few minutes, due to it being a freakishly tall building. The wind’s always a little bit stronger here, too. When he gets to the balcony, he stands in front of the door, pressing his hand against the window and waiting for FRIDAY to respond. When she doesn’t, he groans and pulls his mask off.
“FRI, you there?” he asks.
“I always am, Master Parker,” the AI answers. Peter looks up at the ceiling and gives her his best smile.
“Would you be a dear and let me in, please?”
“Have you lost your stuff again?”
“…Yes?”
“Then you know what you have to do to be allowed inside,” FRIDAY tells him without any remorse. Peter groans in frustration and passes a gloved hand through his hair. He hates the ‘Locked-out-protocol’. It’s only designed to make him feel foolish.
It’s probably the only reason why Tony installed it in the first place.
“C’mon, can’t you just make an exception this one time?” he tries. He can’t just do the thing without at least trying to convince her to get him off the hook.
“I’m afraid not,” she tells him, though she doesn’t sound at all like she’s regretting it. Peter rolls his eyes and lets out a deep breath. Then he clears his throat and licks his lips.
“Alright, pass him through,” he tells her. Then he waits for a few seconds, at least until he can hear that he’s allowed to speak. While he waits, he cracks his neck loose and shakes his shoulders a bit, preparing himself for this mentally.
“Yes?” Tony Stark’s familiar voice asks through a small intercom that is installed all over the floor. Peter’s pretty sure Tony’s got images on Peter standing there, still in his suit, waiting to be allowed inside.
“Oh, Tony Stark, Dad, creator of all that is awesome and unprecedented. I humbly ask you to allow me, your idiot son who keeps on losing his stuff, inside of your well-kept home that is practically a modern, high-up tree-house-castle.”
Tony stays silent for a bit. Peter then does his part and puts a hand on his chest before bowing down.
“What’s that about a tree-house-castle?” Tony asks. Peter rolls his eyes.
“C’mon, Dad, can I please come in?” Peter begs. Despite that he doesn’t sweat in the suit, he would really just want to take a shower and relax a bit on the couch for the evening.
“I don’t know… I really like my stuff, and with the speed at how fast you keep on losing things… It just doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do, you know?”
Peter groans.
“Plea-hease!” he adds for one last time.
“Ah, alright. If only because I can’t resist those chocolate brown eyes of yours,” Tony tells him, opening the door at last. Peter snorts and hurries inside.
“Our eyes are the same,” he counters right before closing the door behind him.
“Exactly!” Tony says, walking out of the hallway just as he speaks. He’s holding up a half-empty cup of coffee, and comes to stand still in front of Peter with an eyebrow raised. “Now, how many times has that been this month?”
Peter looks down guiltily.
“Three?” he gets out.
“Three… this month. We’re only the tenth of September, Peter. In August alone you lost about seven bags! I know we’re rich, but if you keep going like this we’re going to run out of money eventually.”
Tony ruffles through his hair and turns around again.
“You go get washed up. I’ll finish with Happy downstairs with listing everything down and then we’ll go get something to eat. Oh and your friend Ned apparently is going to come by – something about Star Wars? I told FRIDAY to just let him in.”
“Whoa- but dad! There’s some things I need to tell you! About these guys robbing a bank, and they had these crazy weapons, and-“
“Tell me during dinner, alright?”
But then Tony’s gone again and Peter shakes his head. Sure, Tony’s behavior towards him hasn’t changed a bit, not even after figuring out he’s Spider-Man (though he might have become even more over-protective whenever he sees a small bruise on Peter). But with keeping a regular schedule on when he’s at May’s and when he’s at Tony’s, he quickly comes to realize that, whenever he’s not here, Tony’s spending most of his time hidden away in the workshop – or lately just being busy with removing everything Avengers-related back to the Compound. The tower, which has officially been Avengers Tower until now, has just been bought back by Stark Industries. At least that doesn’t mean they’ll have to move so soon after Peter just got here.
Peter’s not stupid; he knows Tony’s suffering from Steve being gone. He’s seen how badly Tony had taken it the first few days after returning from Siberia with no Captain by his side. The few nights that he does spend in his bed are plagues with nightmares, and every small mention of Steve just gets him to shut down completely. It’s probably why the man wants to distance his life from the Avengers now.
For the most part of July, Tony has been working together with Pepper again. Mostly, he asked for her help to put out the Avengers' fire, which she did without asking any questions. They helped die down the stories that were written about them, and even got the newspaper to stop portraying the remaining Avengers as criminals. What they are, right now, is just stuck in a grey zone between hero and illegal vigilante.
Peter doesn’t know enough of it to really put anything together about it. All he knows is that Tony considers him too young to be getting involved with this, so he’s kept out of it, mostly.
With that thought mostly on his mind, he starts making his way to his bedroom. By now, it’s been mostly decorated to make it feel more like his room, his safe haven where he gets to be alone for once in a while. Having two bedrooms has been confusing at first, but now Peter only finds it awesome to be able to call the Tower home as well.
Peter throws the door open and does a backflip inside of the room, landing back on his two feet easily. He does that often, just random acrobatics, but only here. His room at Queens isn’t big enough for that. Without really looking around, he throws his mask onto his bed and starts stretching on his way to his closet, where he’s heading to fish out some new clothing.
It’s only in the mirror that he sees the figure on his bed.
“What the-?” they both ask at the same time, and then Peter jumps up in the air when the unfinished Lego Death Star falls down on the ground.
“NED?!” he asks in a shout. “You’re already here?!”
“Yeah, uh, the, uh… the voice let me in?” Ned asks, with eyes open wide, taking in Peter standing there with his suit still on.
Oh crap. His suit. Is still on.
“You’re Spider-Man,” Ned whispers, shocked. Peter knows he’s screaming on the inside – he’s aware of how much of a fan Ned is. All Ned does is talk about the Avengers, and mostly Spider-Man. He would just never have thought he would find out.
Ned’s already horrible at keeping secrets.
“No, no, no, I’m not!” Peter says, and the first thing he thinks to do is just press the button to get out of the suit. It comes loose all around him, and falls down on the ground while Peter ends up standing there in just his underwear.
“You did a backflip!” Ned continues.
“People do them all the time!” Peter counters, realizing his breathing heavily from the sudden nerves.
“You have the new suit!”
“It’s just a replica!” Peter adds to it. Only, of course, that’s the moment where Tony decides to butt in, opening the door with his now empty cup of coffee in his one hand, and one of his new inventions in his other.
“Hey little spider, I just made some adjustments to the web shooters. You should head down to the training center downstairs and test them out when you get the chance,” the inventor says, throwing Peter the new web shooters before raising his eyebrows at the sudden realization that they’re not alone here.
“Uh, thanks, dad?” Peter says nervously, not even bothering to tell him not to tinker around with his stuff anymore; he knows it’s no use. Tony doesn’t say anything, only shortly passing his eyes over Peter’s half-naked state before letting it roll over to Ned standing there, looking star struck. While he’s met Tony before in the past two months, he keeps on getting speechless around him.
“We’re not supposed to be having some sort of talk here, right?” Tony asks, actually sounding a bit uneasy about it. Ned doesn’t answer. Peter frowns, embarrassed.
“Oh, c’mon dad, no! I don’t need the talk! I’ve had it with May already!” Peter throws at him. Besides, it’s too late to have it. It’s not like Peter hasn’t done anything yet!
“Okay, uh, good. I don’t think I’m mentally ready for that,” Tony admits nervously. “Ned, you’re staying here for dinner?”
“I, uh,” Ned says unintelligible, but Peter then cuts in.
“He, can’t. He’s got somewhere to go, his mother just called!” Peter makes up nervously. Tony lifts another eyebrow at that, and Ned just keeps on being speechless. A few more seconds of silence are passing between them before Tony sighs.
“He saw you in the suit, didn’t he?” he asks.
Peter swallows.
Then he sighs, too.
“He saw me in the suit,” he admits.
Tony groans and lifts up his hand to rub his brow, shaking his head a little bit. Taking a step back into the hallway, he points a finger towards Peter, and then Ned.
“You’re old enough to figure this out. Keep it contained, okay? Dinner will be there in twenty minutes,” he says before walking off. After closing the door, Peter tries to swallow past a lump in his throat. What just happened?
“Whoa, he knows?!” Ned asks, way too excited about this all. Peter just sighs and decides to give up.
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