Block block punch. Block punch block punch. Ouch. Captain America's fist made brief contact with his chin but the force of it barely moved his head. Steve pulled all his punches during training and at first Peter had been annoyed about it, but after the supersoldier had landed the first ten in the span of just a couple minutes he was grateful Steve hadn't listened to his protests.

"You're leaving yourself open when you attack." Steve chastised. "Try again."

Block block block punch punch block. Duck. Block. Kick. Steve grabbed his foot easily freezing him in position.

"You're off balance right now." He noted.

"No I'm not." Peter protested.

Steve's raised eyebrow was the only warning he got before the man nudged his planted leg. Peter went toppling to the ground.

"You were off balance. Don't compromise your mechanics even if you're tired." Steve said patiently. "That's enough for today."

"I'm not tired. I can keep going." Peter argued even as a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He and Cap had been at it for hours, but he wasn't ready to quit. His ego stung a little at the fact that the man still looked fresh and pristine.

"I'm sure you can." Steve offered a hand and pulled him to his feet. "Same time and place tomorrow?"

Peter sighed. "Fine. Tomorrow."

Steve laughed at Peter's clear disappointment. "Aren't you hungry?"

As if on cue, Peter's stomach let out a loud rumble and he threw an abashed look toward Steve. Maybe it was his lot in life to embarrass himself in front of all the Avengers.

"I guess I am." Peter confessed with a smile.

Steve clapped him on the back and led him toward the elevator. "Come on let's go eat. You did a good job today. Your blocks are getting better."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?" Steve asked.

"Maybe?" Peter cocked his head and squinted at him, trying to read him.

Steve's chuckle broke off with a peculiar look when he glanced at Peter.

"What?" Peter asked. "Do I have something on my face?"

He reached a hand up, ready to rub away whatever was making Steve give him that funny look.

"No. You just…looked exactly like Tony for a second there." Steve admitted. "I think you're starting to pick up some of his mannerisms."

Peter didn't really know what to do with that. A small part of him soared with happiness at the thought of emulating Tony but another part worried maybe Tony would think it was weird if he thought he was trying to imitate him. Even though he wasn't. At least not on purpose.

The elevator doors opened and Steve ushered Peter out before he could think of a response.

"Speak of the devil." Steve joked as they walked into the kitchen to find Tony waiting in front of the coffee machine with a Chinese food container and chopsticks in hand.

Tony turned around. "I've been called worse."

"Hope you like orange chicken Cap. That's all that's left." Tony nodded toward the kitchen island where a few Chinese containers sat.

"Love it." Steve said.

Peter scrunched up his face. Dang. He hated orange chicken. He walked over to the fridge and opened it, hoping there were some leftovers he could eat instead.

"What are you doing kid? The food's over there." Tony asked.

"I don't like orange chicken." Peter said offhandedly as he scoured the barren fridge. Hmm. Leftovers weren't a common occurrence for the Avengers, so unless he wanted to eat ketchup he'd have to figure something else out.

"You like cashew chicken?" Tony walked over to Peter as he closed the fridge.

"Yeah but you said—"

"Here take it." Tony shoved the container he'd been eating out of into his hands.

"But…this is yours." Peter frowned at the nearly full carton.

"What are you a germ freak? I took like two bites. You're not going to get my cooties."

"No…just…but…what are you going to eat?"

"I happen to love orange chicken." Tony smirked at Peter's stammering as he picked up one of the containers on the counter and took a seat next to Steve at the breakfast bar.

Peter frowned but didn't argue further. If Tony loved orange chicken why had he picked cashew chicken instead?

"Less thinking. More eating." Tony called to Peter.

Peter sighed and took a bite of the cashew chicken as he walked over to sit next to Tony. He half listened as Tony and Steve chitchatted about Avengers business and Peter tried not to feel left out. Sheesh what did he expect? For Tony to always give him 100% of his attention? That wasn't fair. Especially after the man had been so great to him.

Since Peter had finally broken down a couple weeks ago and talked about his nightmares with Tony, they'd actually started getting better. They hadn't completely dissipated but now he only had one or two a week instead of every night, and Tony was still always there to talk to him about them. Who knew talking actually helped? Now if he could just summon enough courage to talk to Tony about the future and what his plans were with Peter maybe he could stop worrying so much. Peter liked to think the two of them had grown close over the past month, and the more time he spent with the man the more ridiculous his fears of being kicked out seemed but he just couldn't quite seem to shake them.

Ned harassed him about it constantly. Just ask him Peter. Just ask. You'll feel better. He's not going to kick you out. And Ned was probably right but Peter was still scared because what if Tony didn't actually plan to keep him? Right now everything was fine and he could pretend everything would stay that way, but what if he asked and Tony told him he was going to have to leave? Peter didn't know if he'd be able to survive that.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder and Peter turned to catch Tony frowning at him.

"You ok kid? You're not doing your usual word vomit thing."

"Yeah I'm fine. Just um…tired." Oops wrong thing to say. Tony just looked more concerned at the admission.

"You try sparring with Cap and see how you feel." Peter continued, expecting Tony to smile at the jest but he didn't take the bait.

Instead he turned toward Steve who just quirked an eyebrow and shook his head. Sometimes Peter hated their uncanny ability to have entire conversations without saying a single word.

"Yeah I don't think so." Tony looked back at him. "Try again."

"I uh—"

Before Peter could think up another excuse a blaring alarm interrupted.

"What is that?" Peter yelled, hands over his ears.

"A priority alert." Tony answered as he pulled out his cell phone and flipped it sideways, a hologram displaying explosions erupting in New York City caused by some kind of weird looking robot things.

Steve looked up toward the ceiling, "F.R.I.D.A.Y. have the Avengers assemble. Tell them we're wheels up in five. We'll debrief on the way."

"Yes Captain." F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

"Suit up." Steve told Tony as they both stood.

"Wait is that New York? Someone's attacking New York? Can I come? I can help!" Peter scrambled off the stool.

"No you stay here." Tony said sternly.

"But—"

"This is a job for the Avengers son." Steve said.

"But I want to help! I can help! It's my city too!"

"No Peter." Tony said again.

"But—"

"I said no!" Tony yelled and Peter felt like he'd been struck. Tony had never yelled at him like that before. He caught Steve watching the exchange and that made it sting even more, but then hurt turned to anger.

"You can't tell me what to do! If I want to help I can help!" Peter shouted back and a vindictive part of Peter hoped it hurt the other man as much as getting yelled at had just hurt him.

Tony looked absolutely shocked at the uncharacteristic outburst for a moment before he seemed to recover and a grim expression crossed his face.

"I'll meet you in the Quinjet Cap." Tony's dismissal of the other man was clear, even though his eyes never left Peter's.

Steve left without a word. Peter and Tony just continued to stare at each other.

"You're not coming." Tony broke the silence after a few moments.

"If…if you leave me here I'll just follow you." Peter threatened.

A brief glint of something Peter thought looked like fear crossed Tony's eyes before the angry resolve returned. "Oh really? You think so?"

Tony reached out and grabbed Peter's wrist and started dragging him toward the elevator.

"Stop it! Let me go! I'm going to New York!" Peter ripped his arm out of Tony's grasp easily but just as he turned around to escape, Tony grabbed him again and continued pulling him toward the elevator.

"Oh no you're not." Tony rebuked harshly. This time when Peter tried to break the genius' grasp he wasn't able to. Glancing down he noted Tony had activated his wristwatch gauntlet and had a hold of him with it.

"Hey!" He protested and tried to squirm out of it but it was useless. The grip was firm and unyielding but not quite tight enough to leave bruises.

"My rooms F.R.I.D.A.Y. Make it quick." Tony ordered as the elevator door closed behind them and the elevator ascended at triple the speed Peter was used to. Within seconds the doors opened again and Tony dragged Peter into his suite, finally releasing him.

"You are going to stay here and wait for me." Tony ordered pointing a finger at him in emphasis. "And when I get back you and I are going to have a little chat."

"You can't stop me." Peter declared. As soon as Tony left he'd figure out a way to get to the city.

"Oh yes I can. F.R.I.D.A.Y. Peter is not allowed to leave this floor under any circumstances."

"Understood Boss." The AI answered.

"You-you can't do that!" Peter protested.

"Watch me!" Tony said as he walked back into the elevator.

"This isn't fair!"

"Life's not fair kid." It was such a flippant Tony Stark thing to say. Peter had never been angrier with him.

"I hate you!" The words burst from Peter's lips in a blaze of righteous fury, a familiar burn he hadn't experienced since before Aunt May had died.

The elevator doors closed before Tony had a chance to respond but Peter knew he'd heard him.

As soon as they closed Peter rushed over and pushed the down button over and over again but it didn't light up.

"Peter, as I know you heard, you are not allowed to leave this floor per Mr. Stark's instructions." F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s explained.

"Argh!" Peter punched the doors and then kicked them a few times. They didn't so much as dent. A distant part of him was impressed. Wow what were these things made out of? He squeezed his fists into his hair and slammed his back into the doors, the back of his head hitting hard enough to jar him. He let his legs crumple under him and slid down to the floor in despair. It wasn't fair. He'd just wanted to help and now he'd ruined everything.

Peter stared blankly forward. He couldn't believe he'd told Tony he hated him. His anger now spent, it turned rapidly into regret.

Well at least now he could forget about asking Tony if he was going to keep him. There was no way he'd be allowed to stay now. Tears burned in his eyes. He tucked his head into his knees and cried silently and this time there was no one there to comfort him.


I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes and tried to pay attention to the briefing and the fight plan Steve was going over. Somehow he couldn't seem to focus. Those three little words had hurt more than when the shrapnel had embedded in his chest in Afghanistan.

"Any questions?" Steve asked. "Everyone clear on the plan?"

What was he supposed to do again? Oh whatever. He could wing it. For all the planning they did before missions it all usually went to complete shit within a few minutes anyway.

"Ironman? You know what you're supposed to do?" How did Steve always know when he wasn't listening?

"Kick some ass?" He improvised and the response was met with a few scattered chuckles.

"You're going to drop Hawkeye off at the best strategic position and then fly air support and try to work out if these things have any weak spots." Steve repeated patiently.

"Yep got it." He wondered what Peter was doing. Well whatever he was doing at least he was safe. I hate you.

"Are you ok?" Steve asked as Tony remained uncharacteristically silent.

Tony shrugged.

"Did something happen between you and Peter after I left?"

"Oh you know the usual. We had a nice mature discussion about all the reasons he couldn't come with us. He was very understanding about it. So much so I had to lock him in my suite. He told me he hates me." Tony rambled as he fiddled with his gauntlet.

"You know he didn't mean it." Steve reassured.

"Peter doesn't hate you." Bruce said from next to him.

"Yeah that kid idolizes you." Sam piped in. "It's sickening."

"Welcome to being a parent." Clint joked from the pilot seat. "If they don't tell you they hate you at least once a month, you're not doing it right."

"Amen." Scott agreed.

"But I'm not—"

"What? His parent?" Rhodey asked. "Then what are you?"

"His…his guardian."

Wanda scoffed. "Same difference."

"I agree. Children are apt to say things they don't mean to those they love in anger. We all know Peter does not hate you." Vision agreed.

Tony frowned.

"All right guys, as fun as this little pre-battle heart to heart has been, it's time to go. We're here." Clint said as they hovered above where the enemy robots were tearing up buildings.

"You sure you're good to go?" Steve asked Tony quietly as he grabbed his shield.

Tony nodded and pushed the I hate you from his mind. He had to. He needed to focus now. "I got this Cap. Let's go birdbrain!"

"Be gentle. It's my first time." Clint joked as Tony picked him up. Tony laughed at the horrible innuendo and took off as the rest of Avengers disembarked around him.


Peter lay curled up miserably on the couch, face buried in a throw pillow. After the elevator, he'd tried the balcony door and the windows to no avail, so he'd given up and turned the TV on instead. It'd been broadcasting the fight in New York until about an hour ago when it had ended with the Avengers victory and Peter had turned it off, preferring the quiet for his dark thoughts. From what he could see on TV, no one on the team seemed to have gotten hurt. Peter had worried endlessly that something would happen to Tony and that the last words he said to the man would be I hate you. God how could he have said that? He was such an ungrateful brat. After everything Tony had done for him. No matter how mad he'd been at him it wasn't an excuse to say that. Had his experiences with his parents and aunt and uncle taught him nothing about the tenuousness of life?

The elevator doors hummed open and Peter squeezed his eyes shut in the pillow as his heart started to race. This could be it. These could be his last moments with Tony before the man kicked him to the curb. He listened as footsteps walked slowly toward him until they came to a stop right next to him.

"I'm sorry." He said miserably, apology muffled by the pillow, but he wasn't able to face Tony. "I didn't mean it. I don't hate you."

Tony let out a long sigh before he answered quietly. "I know."

A heavy silence settled over them. Neither said anything for a few long moments, but then Tony broke the stalemate by sitting down on the edge of the couch by Peter's waist. A few seconds later, a hand settled on his back. The warm weight radiated reassurance and security, and Peter felt his eyes sting again at the comfort he wasn't sure Tony even wanted him to feel.

"What happened today can never happen again." Tony said.

Peter kept quiet and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"The type of enemies we get called on to fight as Avengers…" Tony paused and sighed again before continuing, voice steady and unapologetic. "They make the Vulture look like child's play."

Peter flinched hard and he knew Tony felt it under his hand. That was a low blow. Only Tony knew about that and now he was using it against him. It made him feel ripped open and raw.

"You're not ready for that yet. So when I say you need to stay here. You need to stay here. No arguing. No threatening to follow us. You just listen. Understand?"

Peter bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood.

"I said do you understand?" Tony emphasized each word slowly but didn't yell.

Peter nodded into the pillow, not trusting his voice.

"Ok." Tony said voice soft again. "I'm not…I'm not doing this to hurt you Peter. I'm just trying to keep you safe. That's my job now all right?"

"Will you look at me please?" The hand on his back moved up and down.

Peter shook his head.

"Come on." Tony prodded and the hand settled on his shoulder and pulled at it, starting to gently roll him over. Peter let him.

"There you are." Once Peter lay on his back, red-rimmed eyes on Tony, Tony gave him a small smile and it broke Peter's precarious hold on his emotions.

"I'm sorry." His face scrunched up and he tried to turn his head away so Tony wouldn't see him cry again, but before he could, Tony pulled him into his arms.

"Shh it's ok. I know. I'm sorry too." Tony said.

"No you shouldn't be sorry. I was horrible to you. I was being a stupid asshole. I said I hated you. Just because I was mad. I didn't mean it. Something could've happened to you and then the last thing I ever said would've been…that and I didn't mean it. I didn't. And I never would've forgiven myself. I'm sorry." He cried.

"Jesus kid. It's ok. Don't beat yourself up about it. I know you didn't mean it. I'm sorry. You're sorry. You're not going to do it again. Let's call it all good. All right?" Tony tried to calm him down.

Peter nodded. He could hear the sincerity in his tone even if the words seemed light hearted. It still took him a few long minutes to regain control of his emotions.

He took a few deep calming breaths and scrunched up his nose.

"Um Tony?"

"Yeah kid?"

"Don't take this the wrong way but…you smell terrible."

For a moment Peter worried he'd overstepped while trying to lighten the mood, but then Tony burst out laughing. The deep delighted type of laughter Peter only heard from him when something particularly funny caught him by surprise.

"God I love you kid." The sentence came out more like a musing than a declaration but Peter still heard it as the latter.

As soon as the words passed Tony's lips, Peter felt him stiffen slightly but the man didn't take them back or turn it into a joke or say anything else at all, so Peter knew the statement had been genuine. Maybe not planned, but true all the same. An unexpected awkwardness settled over the two of them, the previous laughter gone. Peter knew he could play it off with another joke or ignore it or change the subject completely, but he didn't want to do any of those things. He owed Tony more. He owed him the truth.

Peter took a breath, mustering his courage, and stated softly, "I love you too Tony."

Tony gripped him tighter for a few seconds before ruffling his hair and releasing him to stand. "All right squirt. I'll go shower but then we're going to have a movie night. Just you and me. So pick what you want to watch. I'll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. order us some food. What do you feel like?"

"Schwarma?" Peter asked with a wide smile. He liked it fine but he knew it was Tony's favorite.

Tony laughed again. "Is this you sucking up to me? Not that I'm complaining but—"

Peter reached out a foot and playfully kicked at Tony but the man dodged deftly, still chuckling as he walked toward his room.

"Your heard the kid F.R.I.D.A.Y. Order us up some schwarma. The usual."

"Yes Boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied.

"Tee up a movie. I'll be back out in a few." Tony told Peter before he disappeared behind his bedroom door.

Peter flopped back down on the couch, thoughts elsewhere as he flipped through the different movie options. He'd really screwed up today but instead of sending Peter away, Tony had told him he loved him. And if Tony really loved him, Peter couldn't imagine he'd ever get rid of him. Right? That wasn't something you did to people you loved. At least he didn't think so. He just wished he knew for sure. He should just ask. Tomorrow. He'd ask him tomorrow. If the time seemed right. Or maybe the day after…