welcome my pretties. i'm not 100% sure why i'm posting this, my friend made me write this and i quite liked how it turned out. (let's all ignore the fact that I haven't used this account in around a year pls and thank) hope you nerds enjoy and i'd really appreciate feeback in any of its many forms :D
Peter wasn't even sure why it was an issue. So, he'd managed to get bitten by a goddamn radioactive spider (wasn't that just the smartest thing he'd ever done) and he'd somehow developed superpowers. Ignoring how utterly stupid that sounded, you'd think confessing this to his parents would be easier than most; after all, his parents kind of did the whole having superpowers and fighting evil thing for a living. Iron Man and Captain America, superheroes and fathers extraordinaire.
But that might have just been it, the reason he was finding it so difficult to talk to them about it. He knew firsthand how stressful it was when they both- or worse, one of them without the other- went away on missions. Not knowing how badly beat up they would be when they got home, not knowing if they would get home at all- it was nerve wracking.
But he knew that he couldn't ignore his new powers. Even if the way he had got them had been freaking dumb, he still felt a new responsibility. Is this what his dads felt like? Like it was their duty to help people who couldn't help themselves? God, even to him that sounded corny.
If he was going to try this whole crime-fighting thing out, he was going to need a costume. Preferably something less stupid looking that his Pop's. Seriously, a guy can take patriotism too far. And he'd need an awesome name too. And loads of cool gadgets, like his Dad. Being related to Tony Stark had its privileges, like a genius IQ and a lot of financial playing room.
But it was probably pointless to tell his dads. What they don't know can't hurt them, right?
"Rise and shine, butt-face!"
Peter groaned as he was awakened by the heartwarming statement and a finger flick to the temple.
"Cliiint, it's the weekend and I'm tiiired-"
"Actually, it's Monday. And I'm on babysitting duty while the Tin Man and Stars N Stripes are off, and we both know they'll whoop my ass if I don't get you off to school in time."
He'd forgotten about the mission. Both his parents were away, he wasn't even sure where ('classified information', that kind of garbage). Usually, Clint only woke him up on weekends, hideously early because 'birds never sleep, and neither should you!'. Why his dads decided that Clint would be a good person to trust their son to was beyond his knowledge. Also, why Clint felt the need to wake him up, despite the fact that JARVIS had a perfectly good alarm system.
"I'm 16, douchebag, you don't have to 'babysit' me!"
"If you can't remember what day of the week it is without my inexhaustible source of wisdom- Yeah, you kind of do, assbrain!"
"Oh shut up." Aiming a pillow at what he hoped was the source of Clint's snarky voice, he began the slow, exhausting crawl out of bed. A hooting laugh and a yell of "Not even close, loser!" followed him as he sleepily descended the stairs.
"Good morrow, Peter!" The familiar boom of Thor's voice echoed throughout the room as the disheveled teen made his entrance.
"Hey Thor, didn't hear you come in last night-", Peter's sentence was interrupted with a gigantic yawn as he sat down at the table, hoping there would be some food.
"Morning kid, I managed to save you some pop-tarts but I'd eat them fast if I were you, Thor's been eyeing them," Bruce shoved a plate in front of him with a smile.
"Thanks man, I'm starving! Is Tasha not up yet?" Peter dug in, smiling at the rather put out looking Thor smugly.
"Nat's off on a SHIELD mission, butt-face. I told you yesterday, remember?" Clint, as usual, made no sound in his approach and made Peter jump a mile.
"Damn it Clint, do you always have to do that? It's really annoying!" Peter could just feel the smugness rolling off the archer in waves as he replied.
"Damn right I do, shortass. Keep ya on your toes!"
"I'm like 3 centimeters shorter than you, asshole!"
"Doesn't mean you're not a shortass, shortass!"
With a good-natured sigh, Bruce interrupted.
"Guys, I don't want to stop you acting like five-year-olds or anything, but you both need to get ready. Clint, you're taking Peter to school, remember?"
They both groaned simultaneously.
Thinking it over while getting changed, Peter realized that this would be a perfect opportunity to ask Clint for training. Not that he wanted to give the smug bastard anything to increase his huge ego with, but if he was going to do something with his new powers, he was going to need some help getting into proper physical shape and Clint was, not that he'd admit it, very good in that area. Asking him in the tower was most likely a bad idea, his Dad had cameras everywhere. Everywhere.
"Sir, I feel I should perhaps inform you that your school starts in 10 minutes." JARVIS' mechanical tones brought him back to reality as he grabbed his bag and scrambled out of the room. Running downstairs, Peter yelled, "Get your ass in gear Flappy Bird, we're gonna be late!".
"Oh, shi- hey, Flappy Bird? Seriously? Your dad can come up with better nicknames than that, butt-face!" Clint replied, running towards him.
"I have prepared the Jaguar for your departure, Sir." JARVIS said, helpful as ever. Barging through to the garage, Peter somehow managed to yell a reply at Bruce's and Thor's goodbyes.
"No time for sentiments butt-face, it's every man for himself!" Clint's yell echoed through the spacy garage as they piled into one of the many flashy cars Tony Stark had in his possession.
"Drive man, drive!"
And with that, Clint and Peter sped off in the direction of Peter's school. They hoped.
Clint wasn't renowned for knowing how to get to the right place at the right time if it wasn't a mission. Peter never could figure out how he managed to completely switch it off like that.
Half an hour later, Clint was maneuvering the car down yet another alley that seemed both definitely familiar and altogether too narrow for a car of the size they were in to fit through.
"Listen, dude-", Peter started, but Clint broke in almost instantly.
"Look, I know what I'm doing okay? There's a shortcut around here somewhere…"
"No, no, it's about something else. Uncle Clint-"
"Ohhhh no. You never call me Uncle Clint any more unless you want something you know your parents won't agree with. Not falling for it again, kiddo."
"It's nothing bad, I swear! I just want you to give me some training and stuff…" Peter trailed off embarrassedly. Clint's perpetual smirk increased by quite a few notches.
"I'm sorry, shortass? What was that?"
"You heard me, Flappy Bird." Peter crossed his arms, refusing to repeat the blow to his dignity.
"You want lessons? From me? Ohohohohho this is sweet!" Clint cackled.
"Eyes on the road, asshat. It's just because, I don't know, what if someone tries to kidnap me or something? I mean, I'm the son of two really important guys! I know that's why my surname was changed to Parker and stuff, but still!" Peter was grasping at straws. He hadn't really thought about what reasons he would have for wanting to learn to defend himself.
"You do have a point, kiddo. And I can tell why you'd come to me, after all, I am brilliant. I could probably give you some tips and stuff, so long as your nerdy ass can fit it in between all that studying you do." Clint grinned.
"Really? Thanks Uncle Clint, guess you're not that bad after all!"
"Not that bad? I'll have you know I'm freaking amazing!"
congratulations on surviving thus far ;3
i don't know how often i'll update this, as i have written more but i feel it needs a lot of work. hopefully soon :D
once again, i'd appreciate any feedback, a favourite to tell me you enjoyed it or (even better) a review. i will shower you with puppies if you write a review i swear don't even test me
