'Spicy Affair Sparks Between Iron Man and his Young Protege'
Unbeknownst to the accuracy of the brightly printed words, Tony rolled his eyes and chucked the trashy magazine towards a garbage can across the room.
"Dummy, clean that up."
Pepper crossed her arms. "This is serious, Tony. Accusations like this could easily grow into something worse, even legal."
"You know, come to think of it, that's the kind of damage control you get a paycheck for every month," Tony replied, spinning his chair back to his work table.
"You don't have to be like that. Look," she sighed, staring at the back of the man she was once in love with, "I'm sorry things ended the way they did, but that doesn't mean we can't be civilized."
Shoulders tensing, Tony stopped tinkering with the piece of armor before him. "Don't."
"Just- be careful, okay? Spend less time with him, do something healthy, get out of this room."
Tony rolled his eyes as Dummy tried to pick up the slippery tabloid and turned to Pepper, hurt sparking behind his eyes. "Or you could just get out of this room," he said, already hating himself for lashing out. "Do something constructive, fix this mess."
"Okay, I'm done," Pepper replied, lips forming a thin line as she turned on her heel.
"Is, um, is this a bad time, Mr. Stark?" Peter asked, knocking on the door frame as he entered Tony's personal lab.
"Tony. And nope, perfect," Tony blurted out, rubbing at his eyes as he frantically searched for a small washer that had fallen from his work table. "Come on in, kid. What can I do for you? Homework help? Suit improvements?"
Peter stood silent, mouth open on unspoken, hesitant syllables. "Um, just wanted to work on my suit a little. I finished all my homework in class, so..."
"So, great," Tony answered, taking a big gulp from a mug of cold coffee that was leaking onto important papers. "What's the problem?"
"You know, come to think of it, I can come back," Peter said, gesturing behind him with his thumb. "It's really okay."
He'd never seen Tony in such a state. Sure, the man didn't keep the best sleep schedule and from what he could garner the whole Captain America situation messed him up pretty bad, but to see him dive into his work so frantically, almost- well, desperately, scared Peter.
"Why? You're already here. C'mon, sit, we'll get you something to eat. Jarvis! Send food down, whatever's Peter's favorite."
"Right away, sir." Jarvis replied evenly.
Peter blushed, sitting hesitantly on a bar stool across from Tony's work table. "You know my favorite food?" He asked. No one had ever cared enough to take an interest in him. Maybe Tony was interested, like in all his dreams-
"Well, Jarvis does. I programmed him to learn little details about people, every one counts in some sense."
Well, count that hope dashed. "Oh. Yeah, makes total sense," Peter tried to recover, concealing his disappointment with a cough and a glance down to his toes.
Tony furrowed his brow at Peter's reaction, but moved on quickly, grabbing a plate of pizza from Dummy. "Here. Eat up."
"Aren't you going to eat?"
Tony shrugged. "Not hungry. Emotional turmoil can do that to you."
Peter's heart lept in his chest at the response, and once again he dared to hope. "Is everything alright?"
"Peachy. Ex-girlfriends keep things vibrant, you know. You'll learn when you're older."
Dashed, again. "I'm old enough," Peter defended, no longer hungry as he pushed the pizza away. Tony was right, emotional turmoil did ruin an appetite.
"Hm, yeah, not according to the papers," Tony mumbled, cutting off Peter's questioning glance as he pulled up the schematics of the spider suit. "So, I was thinking, we could fix the gloves so they work with your freaky gecko fingers."
Peter looked to his fingers, rubbing them together so the tiny spines caught like velcro. "I thought the gloves were fine. I took down Ant Man no problem."
Tony shook his head, crossing the room to take Peter's hand in his for closer study. "Yeah, swift and effective, but sloppy. If you had a better grip, you could do things more efficiently."
Peter didn't respond then, too caught up in the fact that Tony Stark was holding his hand. Well, not holding it, really, more just rubbing at his mutant fingers, but still- it felt nice. "Sorry, my palms get sweaty sometimes," he said suddenly, nerves getting the best of him.
"Don't worry, I won't tell your prom date," Tony joked, looking up to meet Peter's eyes. "But seriously, this is some effective stuff here," he mused, rubbing the pad of his thumb along Peter's pointer finger.
Peter smiled weakly, taking a shaky breath at the close proximity. From where he was, he could smell old coffee and expensive aftershave, machine oil and metal- in essence, he could smell Tony. "That feels nice," he ventured, turning his hand over to clasp Tony's in a bold move.
Okay, so it was no secret he was sort of crushing on Tony Stark. The man practically exuded sexual prowess, it would take someone losing their eyes to ignore that. And yeah, the whole mentor thing didn't help, either, with all the time they spent together- alone- it made Peter feel special. So special, in fact, that after googling and over analyzing signs of a crush, he became convinced Tony shared some of the same feelings, which brought him right where he was at that moment: breath caught in his chest, eyes locked with Tony's as he intertwined their fingers.
"Um, okay there, Romeo, very funny," Tony replied with a nervous chuckle, pulling his hand away. "What, did that star mag give you a prank idea?"
What? Star mag? But- Oh. Oh... Peter pushed away embarrassed tears prickling at the back of his eyes and nodded, plastering on his best impression of a shit-eating grin. "Yeah, funny, right? Those tabloids are so stupid, thinking we're together or something. That's- that would be ridiculous."
"Oh, shit," Tony mumbled, stepping away with a sinking feeling. "You didn't- look, kid, if I did anything to lead you on-"
"No, no, it was a joke, a stupid joke," Peter rambled, trying desperately to cover as Tony inevitably uncovered the truth. God, he'd been so sure...
"Peter, stop," Tony said firmly, staring him straight in the eye. "Look, I'm flattered, but I've got a whole mess of life you wouldn't want to get in on anyway. Besides, you're young, you should be having fun with kids your age- not some forty-something egomaniac obsessed with mechanics."
Peter felt unbidden tears well up to rest fat on his lower lashes, and shook his head, wishing the ground he was staring at would swallow him whole. "Don't say that stuff about yourself. You're amazing and funny and smart and- and handsome, anyone would be lucky to have you."
"Again, flattered," Tony replied, clearing his throat as he noticed Peter's tears, "but look, this is just a crush. You'll get over it."
"But I think about you all the time, I always dream about you, I always want to be here-"
"Yeah," Tony said quickly, stepping forward to place a tender hand on Peter's small, bony shoulder. "A crush. It's okay, it isn't the first time this has happened, you don't have to be embarrassed."
Peter, at the sudden weight of Tony's hand on his shoulder, clamped his mouth shut, chin quivering with the effort to control himself. "Okay-" he choked out, turning to grab his backpack. "I'm just gonna go."
Then, without even so much as a wave, the young teen rushed from the room, leaving Tony standing alone once again.
"Fuck," Tony said aloud, heart settling into his stomach.
