Warning: Swearing.
"Smile," Peter says, and that's all the warning that Tony gets before there's the familiar click of a camera, Peter grinning at Tony as the picture slides out in brightly coloured ink and he holds out the photo, grinning like a loon. "The second photo on this camera," he explains, full of pride and fondness and Tony can't help but grin back as he eyes the pastel pink camera sitting on Peter's chest.
"That new?" Tony asks, making a gimme motion.
Peter takes off the camera and puts it gently on Tony's hand, "Don't tinker with it," he warns Tony, "I like it just the way it is."
"Aw, you're no fun, webs," Tony says, but complies, examining it from all sides and poking it before turning the camera and grinning, "Smile."
"What..."
Tony clicks down, a snap of Peter, in his tousled hair and oversized Beatles shirt (Tony's pretty sure that it's his shirt, actually, yeah, there's the mustard stain that he spilled on that one date with Pepper when they got attacked... okay, whatever, it's chill, Tony's used to the kid randomly stealing his clothing) and those yoga pants that he's gotten comfortable with ever since he got the Spider-suit ("It's just that the spider suit's pants feel a lot like yoga pants, okay?" Peter grumbled defensively when asked about it, very pointedly ignoring Tony's coos of how cute he was).
"You look great, kid," Tony says as the photo slides out.
"What... Mr. Stark!" Peter snatches the camera back, looking distinctly redder than he had been previously. "Why did you do that?" He runs his fingers through his hair, his little attempt at making it look less like he rolled out of bed, Tony supposes, but it's too late, the picture is already taken, and Tony holds it in his fingers.
"A trade," Tony says brusquely, glancing at the photo. (It's Peter, blinking owlishly, caught off guard, a bit fond, mostly startled, the workshop behind him and a piece of scrap metal in his hands. It's perfect, Tony thinks.) "I take this, you take that photo of me. Obviously, you got the better end of the deal..." (Liar, he thinks, the picture of Peter is far better, but Tony's got a rep to keep and he's not keeping it by being all gooshy. He literally fell asleep with the kid last night, he's got to find some way to make sure his rep's not completely annihilated.) "...But it'll do."
Peter gapes at Tony for a moment before smiling, fond and soft, the edges of his eyes crinkling and lips curving up, and Tony thinks that maybe Peter knows anyway, that Tony would die for him, that just a picture of him will cheer Tony up on bad days, that Tony cares more than he cares to admit.
It's ridiculous, but.
Tony thinks that his thoughts may be pouring out of his ears, dribbling from him and Peter can just see it in his face, the way that Pepper sees and kisses him before he can even take the flowers out from behind his back.
(Okay, so in those cases, he's not exactly subtle, but give him a break, he's trying to be romantic, not trying to infiltrate a secret underground group of ninjas.)
"Mm-hm," Peter mimics that sound kind of like the one that Pepper makes sometimes, but there's something a bit softer to it, a bit sassier. (A bit more like May, Tony thinks to himself.) "Don't make me a new camera."
Tony grins, baring his teeth and keeping his lips wide and open, "No promises," he says as carelessly as he can, with a shrug of his shoulders and a slight tilt to his head.
"Why are you like this," Peter sighs, looping the camera strap back over his head, letting it sit in that spot between his neck and shoulders, camera falling back to his chest with a muffled thump. It sounds so much like Pepper, exasperated and affectionate, that Tony gives a startled laugh.
"Because I love you," Tony says, stretching out love as long as possible, smirking.
Peter looks startled, thrown for a beat, and Tony thinks oh no I said it shit what do I do shit I wasn't supposed to say that I loved him out loud before Peter smiles softly and says, hesitantly, a bit shy, "I know."
Fuck.
The kid did not just.
"Did you just quote Star Wars at me?" Tony demands incredulously.
"I, um," And of course the kid immediately gets flustered, which sort of ruins the moment, but not really. "I love you, too," and he's red as a tomato, looking everywhere but at Tony and shit.
His worst fear has come true.
He's become a sap.
Because Tony doesn't even deflect, doesn't even make a crude joke (partially because he can't do that with the kid, partially because he's too attached and that is bad) he just kind of clears his throat and says, "Now that we both know that we love each other, should we get back to the robots?"
"Oh yes, definitely!" And with anyone else, it would be a deflection, but with Peter, it's just honest excitement, stars in his eyes at being in Tony's workshop and at getting the chance to work with the robots and if that's not the cutest thing ever Tony is willing to fight you. "So, while I was looking at the Ozobot I noticed that you put the LEDs near the power source so that but this also makes it so that there are fewer wires and I was wondering..."
Okay.
Fine.
There.
Tony said it out loud, he said that he loved the kid, the world didn't explode or blow up or anything dramatic like that (yet), so maybe it's okay to get attached and to love the kid a bit.
That doesn't mean that he's ever saying that out loud ever again, though.
"Peter," MJ grinds her teeth together, "Peter, hey, focus, focus on me, you need to breathe, you need to... okay, fine, you're breathing fine, that's chill, that's cool, stop doing that creepy stare and we'll just..."
Peter scrambles off of the balcony, skittish and fast as he goes into MJ's bedroom and bleeds onto her bath towel. Which, you know, is better than the floor, and MJ did put it there for that specific purpose, but she still can't help the mental thought of how am I going to explain that to my mom?
"I think that you're freaking out more than me," Peter says, smiling at her a bit, and MJ scrunches her nose at him. "Just saying."
"You better be pretty badly injured if you think that you can just get away with insinuating that I panicked," MJ crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at Peter.
He grins at her, lanky finger tapping at the giant hole on his abdomen as he says, "'Tis but a scratch," and quickly raises his hands to protect his head when MJ moves to bash him in the head (gently, as gently as you can bash someone's head in) with her copy of The Alchemist.
"This is really not the time to be quoting Monty Python," MJ says, dropping her book onto her dresser and pulling out her first aid kit. "I mean, you've got a giant hole from who knows what-" She very pointedly ignores Peter's excited exclaimation of Ninjas, MJ, it was so cool, they were there with katanas and they were like swoosh and kwaboosh because if she doesn't hear, she has no reason to hit him in the head with her book, "-from, I repeat, who knows what-" Peter pouts and sighs ninjas in that dreamy way that only children who have dreamed of being ninjas can say, "-so if you'd avoid quoting movies..."
"It is the perfect time to quote movies!" Peter protests, "That line fits perfectly with the mood!"
MJ does not chuck the first aid kit at Peter because Peter is injured and apparently ninjas exist in real life and MJ is a "good friend" and thus as a good friend, she will not injure her good friend Peter.
It is a very close thing, though.
"Suit off," she sighs, making sure that her bedroom door and curtains are both firmly closed and shut as she rummages through her closet for that spare pair of pants that Ned had given her 'just in case' (I'm not going to need it MJ had said it's not like he's going to climb in through my bedroom window MJ had said you're such a worrywart MJ and said and look at her now) Peter crawled through her window, bleeding, in the Spider-suit, and in need of pants.
"Thanks," Peter changes quickly, seeming thankful when MJ turns away (she's not interested, MJ already knows that Peter has a sixpack). "Sorry about bleeding on your towel."
"If you'd rather die outside of my house, the towel will be fine," MJ says flatly, and Peter rubs the back of his head sheepishly.
"Does that mean that it's not a big deal?" Peter asks.
"It means that I pardon you," MJ says. (Which, yes, fine, translates into no big deal.)
"Thanks," Peter beams.
And if they end up with Peter falling asleep on her bed as MJ cards her fingers through his hair and reads to him The Alchemist, softly in the dim light of her bedside lamp, then that is perfectly alright, in this moment.
A/N: I may have a problem in which I write someone running their fingers through someone else's hair every chapter but shhh.