Just finished rewatching Captain America: Civil War, and fell back in love with Tony's line: "You can call me anytime. I'll put you on hold—I like to watch the line blink." Hence, this:

It's a Little Bit We Do

"Stark, if you put me on hold one more goddamn time—"

"I'm sorry," Tony responded pleasantly. "Please hold."

"Don't you—!"

With the press of a button, the voice was cut off and replaced by a blinking red light. With a self-satisfied smirk, Tony swiveled in his chair and met—

"Kid?"

Peter's mouth gaped open, shut, and then open again, his eyes staying on the red blinking light. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I can, uh, come back if, if it's a bad time…?"

Tony waved off the offer. "Don't worry about Secretary Ross. This is just a little bit we do. Keeps the magic alive."

Peter's eyebrows raised at the mention of the other man's name. Tony had cut off Secretary Ross. That had to be, like… illegal or something.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods?" Tony prompted, stirring the teen back to the present.

Peter scrambled to bring the paper bag in front of him. "Right, yeah. I, uh, got a tear in the suit."

Tony gave him a look of concerned disbelief. "You got a tear in my knife-proof, Vibranium-infused suit?"

"Just, uh, a small one," Peter said. (That was a lie.)

Tony snatched the loud paper bag, pulled the suit out, and kicked the bag aside. Holding it up, it was easy to see the large slice through the fabric, stretching from the armpit to the waist. Still holding it, Tony turned his concerned, disbelieving eyes to the teen.

Peter shifted his weight, his anxious hand grabbing onto the back of his neck. "I figured I should, you know, get that fixed up before I go back to patrolling."

"What a smart idea, kid," Tony said, his voice indicating no trace of congratulations. He brought the suit to his lap and instantly starting fiddling with the inside lining. "Almost as smart as me."

"Uh, yeah…" Peter's eyebrows scrunched together, unsure what he was supposed to respond to that with.

"I could've sworn I put a safety feature in this ole pile of junk," Tony mused aloud, continuing to prod at the lining. "Something about large knife wounds made it in there, and I think I put an alert about alien tech that can fight through Vibranium…?"

A large, holographic display of red code shot out from the suit. In bold, neon light, the suit clearly presented: SECURITY BREACH ON 25 MAY 2018 AT 11:38PM

"Oh yeah, I did do that." Tony turned pleasantly from the incriminating text to the incriminated kid.

Peter gulped. "I, I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. Ned and I were messing around with it one night, and we must've forgotten to put the protocols back on—"

"Always with this Ted kid," Tony remarked, leaning towards Peter. "Do I ever get to meet the partner in crime?"

Peter didn't even know how to respond to that. If Ned met Tony, he'd probably faint on the spot.

Tony turned back to the suit, tinkering away at the lining again as the red text blinked away. "I don't believe you for a second, by the way. I just need to be clear that you haven't lied your way out of your spider-shaped grave yet."

Peter's shoulders slumped. "Are you gonna take away the suit again?"

"Are you gonna patrol without the suit again?" Tony challenged right back, still not looking up from the tech.

Peter felt it wise not to answer that.

"Well, there goes my night," Tony announced, setting the suit down on his lap. "This so graciously-given suit is in need of a total recall. Maybe higher grade coding that thirteen-year-olds can't break into during their slumber parties."

"Fifteen," Peter mumbled. Still, his cheeks burned red; he and Ned had, indeed, hacked the suit during a Friday night sleepover.

"Not helping, kid."

Peter sighed, turning his miserable stare up to his mentor. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark. We were messing with it, and we were going to let out some of the blocked accessories, but we must've accidentally turned off some other features, and by the time I was battling alien tech and stuff that should've alerted you, I realized we screwed it up and then I felt too guilty to call you about it until—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Tony cut him off, coming to stand in front of the teen. "I'm not mad." He tilted his head and pondered that for a second more. "Well, I'm a little mad that you'd do something so dumb and reckless, but that's… I'll get over it. I care way more about the fact that you felt like you couldn't call me."

Peter's eyes widened as he searched Tony's face. There was only sincerity there.

"You can always call me, kid," Tony told him. "It doesn't matter what you did—call me. OK?"

Peter's lips pressed together as he frantically nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

Tony clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, his other hand still holding the suit. "You did good coming to me, kid. Glad to see you didn't take some duct tape to this or something."

Peter's eyebrows scrunched together again. "I don't think duct tape would hold a suit together, Mr. Stark."

Tony looked over Peter's shoulder and muttered, "You'd be surprised."

Peter shook his head and looked back to the suit. "Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. I really appreciate it—"

"Ah-ah, young grasshopper," Tony corrected, taking his hand off of Peter's shoulder. "You think I'm gonna be up all night by myself working on this thing? Psh. You're on summer vacation, right? You're helping."

Peter blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Really, really," Tony confirmed, pulling out his phone to shoot May a text. "Clearin' it with May as we speak."

"Wow. That'd be awesome. Thank you—"

"How about we show our thanks for this by not hacking my multimillion-dollar suit again?" Tony led the way out of his office, still typing as he walked.

"Of course, Mr. Stark. It won't happen again." Peter hurried after his mentor's steps.

"And for the love of Cap's star-spangled shield—call me Tony."

"OK, yeah, uh, Tony." Peter had to swallow to get the unfamiliar name out of his throat.

Tony looked back at him with slight concern. "Jesus, kid; it's literally my name." His eyes went to Peter's t-shirt. "We're taking a slight detour to the medwing on our way to the lab."

"What?" Peter squeaked. "Why? Are you OK?"

Tony rolled his eyes as they entered the elevator. "I'm no doctor, but I'm thinking this—" Tony held up the sliced suit. "—didn't leave you unscathed."

"Oh," Peter mumbled. "It's OK. It's almost healed."

"Yeah, well, let's let Brucey be the judge of that."

Peter's eyes bugged. Dr. Banner?! Could this day get any better?

Tony lowered his head into Peter's line of sight. "Hey, don't be getting any cool ideas about the Hulk. I'm still the coolest. Your favorite Avenger."

"Yeah," Peter breathed out, his voice airy from the fact that he was about to meet Dr. Bruce Banner. "It's just that we study him in school, and he's got the coolest research out there on radiation and genetic alterations—"

"No, no, no," Tony quickly interrupted. "Say I'm your favorite Avenger." The elevator doors slid open behind Tony, but he didn't move from Peter. "Say Bruce is lame and that Tony is your favorite superhero. Bonus points if you use the name Tony."

Behind Tony, Bruce stared at the duo and raised his hands. "Was this a call to insult me…?"

Tony whirled around with arms extended invitingly. "Brucey! Don't worry about that—just a lover's quarrel. Thanks for coming to the medwing." Tony looked over his shoulder and mouthed to Peter, "This isn't over."

Bruce looked between the two, a little dazed. "I'm just on the floor above…"

"And we know that elevator ride can be tedious," Tony assured him comfortingly. "Speaking of tedious, have you met my kid?" Tony reached out a hand, grabbed onto Peter's elbow, and dragged him out of the elevator.

Bruce took turns staring in shock at the men. "You have a kid?!"

Peter himself stared at Tony in shock. "I'm your kid?"

Tony scrunched his eyebrows. "What is this, an episode of Maury? No. I chose to keep the kid around but we're not—" He looked at Peter in disbelief. "I'm worried that you're unsure of your parentage. Do we need to go Parent Trap on this and track someone down…? Please tell me there isn't another Peter Parker out there. God, there's only so many Tonys to go around."

"So…" Bruce said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "not your kid."

Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Well, he's my kid, Bruce." He put his hands over Peter's ears. "Just more in a mentor-protégé sense. But now I don't think he knows that."

Peter grinned and swatted Tony's hands away. Tony grinned right back at him.

Giving a last look to the two, Bruce began to lead the way into the medbay. "Right. Just come show me what you want me to look at, Tony."

The two leisurely followed behind.


All in all, the night didn't turn out how Peter dreaded it to be (which was Tony killing him for messing with the suit). Peter's side had some major bruising, but Dr. Banner had said it'd go away in a couple of days. Peter's suit now had some ultra-secure coding, but at least he still had the suit.

And Peter's hand held an ice cream cone, his legs poking through the railing of the roof's balcony.

"You're pretty smart, kid," Tony told him in-between licks of his own ice cream cone. "Gotta say having you in the lab saved me some time. If I didn't think you'd hack the code to Sunday and back, I'd give you full reigns on it."

In the summer night's heat, Peter could feel his face go warmer at the praise. "Thanks, Mr. uh—Tony."

Tony rolled his eyes and crunched into the cone. "We'll get there."

Peter grinned and licked at his ice cream.

"Man, it's hot out here," Tony commented, finishing off his cone.

It really was; Peter could feel the sweat dripping down his back. Yet, no part of him felt the desire to return to the cool indoors.

"It was this hot one Fourth of July," Tony explained, leaning back on his hands as his feet dangled beside Peter's. "Rhodey and I got fireworks and got into our suits and flew around, lighting them at each other." He chuckled, but the humor in his expression instantly dropped when he noticed Peter's amusement. "Don't do that. Never do that. Forget that I said that."

"I've gotta find a video of that," Peter said, still grinning. "I bet it's on YouTube."

"Sure as hell should not be," Tony refuted. "Pepper shelled out too many Stark dollars for people to still be able to see Iron Man and War Machine hefting pyrotechnics at each other."

Peter laughed at the image.

Tony looked over and smiled back. "You should come over for this year's Fourth. May can come, Pepper will be invited this year—we'll all powwow up here on this hot-as-Hell roof. We'll even exclude Brucey from the party since you hate him so much."

"I do not hate him!" Peter laughed. "He's so cool. Seriously, so cool. Way cooler than you, Mr. Stark."

Tony sucked in a wheezed breath and smacked a hand over his heart. "I'm so old, Pete. You want to drop me into the dirt sooner?"

Peter rolled his eyes, his grin never leaving.

"Just for that," Tony said, and then he took a lunge for Peter's ice cream—biting a large chunk out of the melting treat and its cone.

"Hey!" Peter protested, shoving his mentor away from his dessert.

"Only tweens who love me get to eat all of their ice cream cones," Tony stated around a mouthful of ice cream.

Peter hurriedly ate at the ice cream starting to ooze down his hand. "Whatever. I'm going to go see what dessert Dr. Banner can give me." Peter got up and walked away, licking at his ice cream.

"Hey, there's no trading in of mentors," Tony griped, rising to his feet and following the kid. "Especially not when it's under my own roof."

"Sorry," Peter told him. "Maybe Dr. Banner will take me to Sonic so we won't be under your roof."

Tony's dramatic gasp could be heard across the rooftop. "There will be no trading in of mentors at the restaurant I introduced you to!"

"I don't think Sonic counts as a restaurant, Mr. Stark."

"There will be no backtalk to said mentor about whether or not the restaurant is a restaurant!"

In a flash, Peter had smeared ice cream on Tony's mouth to get him to stop talking. Tony's eyes bugged and his mouth remained covered in white, and Peter couldn't help it—he laughed hysterically.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that one, Spider-protégé."

With a giggled yelp, Peter threw the remnants of his cone at Tony and bolted for the roof's door. Tony was right on his heels, calling out to FRIDAY for some iron assistance.

Even when the door banged shut, Peter's laughter echoed up across the roof.

Happy belated Fourth fluff to aaaaaall! (Virtual high-fives to those who caught the Deadpool 2 reference.)