Inked

A/N: Enjoy this little Irondad & Spiderson fic!


Peter was woken by a loud thud outside his bedroom door. With a start, he shot up in bed and immediately flicked his eyes around the room, searching for any obvious sign of danger. A quick glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table told him it was four am. Who the hell was up at four am?

"Ow! Shit!"

Peter frowned. "Uh- hello?" His voice was small and, honestly, sounded like a high-pitched squeak in the void of darkness surrounding him, but what could he say? He was still half-asleep, woken by somebody creeping around outside his door and – oh, God, there was another bang! He gulped, subconsciously pulling his duvet up to his chin. "Who's there?"

The teenager swore his heart skipped a beat as his eyes saw the door's handle dip down. Honestly, he had no clue why he was so nervous. Not only was he freaking Spiderman, but he was in the Avengers Facility. There were Superheroes sleeping above, below and beside him. If someone was in the Facility, they – and subsequently him – would know by now. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but take a deep breath as the door opened wider and a dark shape practically stumbled into his room. "Jesus, why'sso daaark?"

Peter sat up straighter before narrowing his eyes, trying to see a little clearer. "Tony? Tony, is that- is that you?"

"No," was the response. Slurred. It was definitely slurred. "No, it'sss Iron Man." The dark shape fumbled for the switch on the side of the wall, and Peter grimaced as light filled the room. His grimace quickly changed to pure shock as the light revealed the dark shape to be an exhaustedTony Stark.

"Tony? What the hell? Are you okay?" The kid wasted no time in pushing his covers to the side and leaping out of bed, rushing over to the man. All kinds of scenarios were rushing through his head as to what could have possibly happened – had he been attacked in his sleep? Had he had a nightmare or another panic attack? Had he gone on a nightly trip to the kitchens and somehow fallen down the stairs? – but the thoughts immediately stopped as he took in Tony's state and suddenly realised that he was, in fact, drunk. Due to his tired mind, he'd somehow forgotten that tonight – or, rather, yesterday evening – was the man's bachelor party. He'd gone out with some friends (meaning the Avengers) for drinks in a pub he'd somehow managed to rent out for the night (how did you rent out a pub?) and, by the looks of things, he'd only just arrived home. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as Tony's narrowed eyes peered curiously at him. Had Tony Stark ever been drunk? He wasn't sure, and if he had, he'd never seen such a thing. However, it was his bachelor party, after all, and his and Pepper's wedding was only around the corner. He deserved a night out. The fact that he was drunk told him he'd had a good time, and that fact alone made him happy.

"Peter! It's you!" A huge grin spread across Tony's face and he grasped Peter's shoulder.

"Yep, it's me. Don't know who else you expected to see in my room." He smiled, reaching up and placing his own hand on top of Tony's. "Have you just gotten home? Where are the others?"

Tony blinked and made a face. "Nooo. I was asleep, then- uhhh. Then I got up and walked here. Came back hours ago."

Peter nodded, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Why'd you come here? Shouldn't you be sleeping this off?"

"Sleeping what off?" The sight of a drunk Tony was pretty endearing, and Peter bit his lip to stop himself from bursting into laughter.

"Your- well. You're drunk. You should be sleeping. Want me to take you back to your-"

"No. No, came here for a r-reason, Pizza."

He did not just call him pizza.

"I mean- I mean Peter."

He did! Okay, no amount of force the kid put between his teeth and his lip could stop the laughter that spilled from his lips at that. "Okahahay," he giggled, patting Tony's hand as he stared at him, confusion shining in his exhausted eyes. "Why did youhu come here?"

"I need to showww- um. Uh. Show you something. Yeah."

Honestly, Peter expected some amount of guessing on his part before Tony showed him what he'd found so important that he had to traipse into his room at four in the morning. However, he was quite surprised when Tony pulled his hand away – and stumbled as he did so – and lifted his sleeve up, revealing an arm wrapped in cellophane. He wasted no time in fumbling with it and ripping it away, and Peter visibly paled at what he saw. "Tony! You got a freaking tattoo? While drunk? Dude, that's- oh, my God. You are so gonna regret this!"

"Why'd I regret it? It's sooooo nice!" He rubbed a finger over the still-red area and a smile lit up his face. Peter heaved a sigh. He thought these things only happened in movies. Nevertheless, he craned his head to have a look at the tattoo, expecting to see Donald Trump's face or one of those cheesy quotes – anything that he'd get removed as soon as he saw it while sober. What he didn't expect, was a small, black 'P'. There was something else below it, but his eyes were fixed completely on the letter.

"Uh- a 'P'? That's… nice. I guess?"

Tony narrowed his eyes. "That's a lie."

The corner of Peter's lips lifted upwards. Even drunk, that man could read him like an open book. He shook his head. "No! No, I- it is nice. I just… what's it for? Is it P for, I don't know, playboy? Philanthropist?"

Tony made the strangest face and stared at him, making the teenager feel utterly stupid. He tried again. "Uhh- P for… party? Peace? Peanuts?" He paused, eyes widening in sudden realisation. "Wait! I know! P for Pepper? Tony, that is so sweet."

His mouth opened as Tony's face didn't change. "Are you s-stupid? P for… Pepper? No, no, P for- P for Peeeeter. Look at the lil spider."

Peter's eyes widened before Tony motioned back towards his arm, and he leaned down, finally acknowledging the dark shape he'd briefly noticed under the letter. Sure enough, it was a spider. A tiny spider nonetheless, but it most definitely was symbolising him, with the P added to the mix. He felt his heart skip a beat. Oh, God. Tony had drunkenly gotten himself a tattoo representing him. Shit! How awkward would this be in the morning? Especially if he wanted to have it removed…

"You don't like it! You hate it… I t-told Steeeve it was a bad idea." Tony looked so dejected that Peter couldn't help but rush to assure him that he did like it. Which, uh, he did. But it felt strange to admit that.

"Oh! No, no, no, no, Tony… I do like it. I just- wait. This was Steve's idea?"

Tony grinned. "Yeaaah. I'm goin'ta sleep."

Peter stood rooted to the ground as Tony grabbed him to steady himself before he walked clumsily over to Peter's bed and fell face-first onto the mattress. He was already dressed in his pyjamas – how he'd managed to do that, he had no clue – and Peter turned around just in time to see him reach for the covers and pull them over himself. "C'mere," he mumbled, and Peter rolled his eyes before switching off the light and walking over to the bed, getting in beside Tony. If this had been a year or so earlier, he'd have hesitated and probably slept on the floor instead of hopping into bed with the freaking Iron Man. However, he'd spent a lot of sleepless nights in that guy's room in the past year. The two had had their fair share of nightmares, and the only comfort they seemed to find during those times was with each other.

Peter sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Tony was silent beside him, face smushed against the pillow, eyes shut, and for a moment, the kid couldn't help but wonder at how he'd gone from an eight-year old superfan of Iron Man to the unofficial son of Tony Stark. He shook his head, a smile briefly spreading across his lips before he shut his eyes, the warmth of the body next to him making him feel safer than he'd ever felt before.

"Mmmm… hey, Pete?"

"Yeah, Tony?"

"Doooo you wanna see the tattoo of- of Pepper's face? On my back?"

Crap.