Ok, so this is my first in this fandom, and I haven't written in years, so... :/
Constructive criticism is allowed (but be nice, my soul is soft)
Also, I was reading over this, and even though I tried my hardest to stick to one POV, I think I switched back and forth between a few different characters, so... I need help with that. Also, the ending is VERY rushed, but I'm too lazy to fix it. Deal with it.
I wanted to incorporate swear words in this story because it helped the flow of the story, but as I am not allowed to curse myself, they will be censored.
Everything you recognize belongs to Marvel.
Aaaaaaaaaanywayyyyyyyyyys just read the story.
Really, Peter had his parents to thank.
After they died, Peter wandered around his aunt and uncle's house in a daze, begging for his parents to come back and take him home. He was trapped in a dream-turned-nightmare, fighting just to wake up every morning. Despite his young age, he could sense Aunt May and Uncle Ben's worry, but he was too tired and too confused to care.
One day, when Uncle Ben was walking from the subway to the apartment after work, he saw a chessboard laying on the street, dirty and weathered. Other than the unidentified matter coating it, it seemed to be in good condition, usable if you knew how to fix it. The Parker family had always been on the poorer side, and knowing free stuff when he saw it, Ben picked it up and took it home. He washed off all the dirt and sanded off all the rough ends, and soon enough, the chessboard was good enough to be called 'lightly used.'
Peter had watched silently as Ben set up the chessboard, lining up all the pieces in the perfect little squares. He found his curiosity sparked by the different soldiers and watched his aunt and uncle play game after game after game. He sat there, watching, noticing how each one moved differently and right as Ben was about to put the chessboard away, he spoke up.
"Can-can I play?"
May and Ben were ecstatic to see Peter taking interest after being lost in his own grief for so long. Ben got right to teaching him, moving from the different pieces to strategy at a rapid pace.
Peter picked up quickly and after only a few months, he could easily beat both his aunt and uncle, who had years of practice. In his spare time, he learned trick moves and feints, checking out books from the public library. Peter had felt a sense of finality in his life for the first time in months; he was actually good at chess.
The years went on, and Peter was put in more than a few chess camps, even winning first place in one of them. Chess was even the reason how he became best friends with Ned, meeting at a camp when they were twelve. Peter often played away the evenings with his uncle, singing along to Queen and The Rolling Stones.
When he got to high school, he made the decision to focus more on his work than on chess, so putting his chess set in his closet, he said goodbye. And after his uncle died, he felt a pang of sadness and longing whenever he picked up a pawn. So, he stayed away from the game, diving into robotics and Academic Decathlon instead.
That was why Mr. Stark never found out about his amazing chess skills.
Peter waved to Ned as he walked to Happy's car, excited for the weekend ahead of him. He was going to work with Mr. Stark in his lab in Stark Tower, and he couldn't wait to try out a new idea he had to improve his suit and web shooters. After Peter had caught the Vulture, he had Mr. Stark's eye out for him, always ready to spend time with him.
"Hey Happy!" Peter exclaimed loudly, eager to get to the Tower. "I'm ready to go!"
Happy only rolled his eyes and started the car, rolling up the divider as he pulled away from the sidewalk. Peter leaned back against the seats, relaxing after 8th period gym class. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through Twitter to occupy himself for the 20 minute drive.
When they arrived at the Tower, Peter called his thanks to Happy and ran into the building. He sped down to the lab, eager to start working with Mr. Stark in the lab. "Mr. Stark, I'm here, I'm-"
Peter stopped at the scene in front of him. The table he usually tinkered and wrote on was cleared off, the various parts and notes that usually occupied it spread across the tables surrounding it. Instead, there was a single chessboard with all the pieces set up like people waiting in line. In one of the two chairs around it was Mr. Stark, looking gleeful at Peter's reaction.
"Hey, kid." He says with a smirk. "I figured we could take a break from our normal activities so that I could beat you're a*s in chess."
Peter gapes for a second longer before coming to his senses and dropping his backpack to the floor. He grins. "I don't know, Mr. Stark. I think you may just be surprised."
He gets only a crooked smile in return. "Your move, kid."
"Oh, it is on."
Peter looked at the board for a few seconds before moving his fourth pawn two spaces. Peter was so going to win.
45 minutes and three games later, Mr. Stark was stunned. Peter had beaten him in all three games, using trick moves and sacrificing some valuable pieces. At first, Mr. Stark was sure he was being cocky and fell for his bluffs, moving his pieces forward with no apprehension. When he was checkmated, he started to be a little more cautious, but played it off as dumb luck. And by the third game-
"What the actual f*ck, kid?"
Peter looked up into his mentor's eyes innocently. "What?" he asked.
"Since when were you a chess expert?" Mr. Stark asked incredulously. "And why didn't you tell me?"
Peter looked down in embarrassment. "When my parents died, my Uncle Ben taught me how to play chess. But when I got to high school, I dropped it 'cause I can't take chess and robotics, ya know?"
Mr. Stark's eyes filled with understanding at Peter's unspoken words. It still hurts to think about him.
"Alright kiddo, you got me a new goal. To beat your punka*s at chess."
Peter laughed. "Sure, Mr. Stark."