A/N: This one was a fun one to write. I didn't want to go for a battle scene which would've been my first thought, so instead I went for a little something else. I don't know much if anything about the X-Men, so I'm sorry if I did get anything wrong. I hope you enjoy it xx
"Sometimes I wish I wasn't some sort of mutant. Sometimes, I just really wish I was a normal kid…"
Peter was sat face to face with Bruce, who wore a stilted expression on his face while he was trying incredibly hard to find a silver lining in being a mutate.
"Mutate, not mutant." Bruce had explained the difference, courtesy of his latest research, and passionately and adamantly insisted that Peter belonged in the same category.
Mutants had the X gene, something Bruce had recently begun studying, courtesy of a gifted group of individuals called the X-Men. Their gifts were different to the remarkable qualities exhibited by the Avengers, however. As a mutate, Bruce, Steve - and now Peter - had attained their abilities by being exposed to an external factor like radiation, the serum, or a radioactive spider. Mutants were born with the X-Gene that gave them their abilities.
The whole conversation started when Bruce stumbled across Peter having a form of existential crisis in the common lounge area. Usually at the late hour of two o'clock in the morning, nobody else was seen outside of their rooms, so Peter took the space as an extension of his own. So, it was to Peter's surprise to see Bruce - usually so sensible about regulating his own circadian rhythm - up and around the complex.
"Mutant, mutate, it doesn't matter, it's not like there's much difference anyways." Peter sighed. "It's not like I can just take a month off of superhero duties or stop looking out for my neighborhood to have a movie night on a Friday."
"You had this thrust on you pretty young. It's not easy, I know, but it's an inevitable part of your life now. Take it from the guy who fought against his reality for years; the sooner you can accept your new reality, the easier your future is going to be." Bruce smiled sadly, sympathy dripping from his expression. Bruce had been an adult by the time the gamma incident created the Hulk, and while he could understand Peter's mourning at the suddenness at which his life had changed in a way Peter could have ever expected, Bruce didn't lose his adolescent years to his...condition.
"Yeah, I know." Peter buried his face in his hands for a moment before standing up to grab a soda from the fridge. "You want anything?" Peter offered.
"No, I'm alright, thank you." Bruce gestured, holding up his steaming mug of black tea as an answer.
Peter chose a can of Coca Cola that Clint thought he hid well in the back of the fridge. Normally, Peter wouldn't have taken from the other Avenger's stash, but it was revenge for when Clint stole Peter's last Fruit Roll-Up and tried to lie about it. The investigation hadn't lasted long; Tony had grabbed footage from F.R.I.D.A.Y and the truth had soon been exposed.
The second Peter cracked the can of soda with soft hiss, a disembodied vocal yawn emerged from around the corner.
Stumbling into the living room was Tony, empty mug in hand, still in his charcoal grey dress shirt and suit pants from the long hours of meetings the afternoon prior.
"My God, Tony, do you ever sleep?" Bruce looked over from his newly claimed spot on the black leather chaise lounge.
"God, it's a party in here…" Tony huffed. He was hoping he'd have the space to himself to have some peace and quiet before he turned in for the night. That card wasn't exactly on the table anymore. "Hey kid, d'you mind turning the machine on?"
Peter wasn't sure if Tony purposefully disregarded Bruce's comment, or if the lack of coffee and sleep were causing a brain fog too thick for his words to penetrate. Peter went through the motions of refilling the coffee machine, and the brief silence was quickly broken by the loud screaming of coffee beans being ground into a powder.
Tony leaned over the countertop, bracing himself on his elbows and dropped his head in his hands, ruffling his hair. When he stood back up straight again, he looked just that little bit more like a disgruntled pigeon.
Both Peter and Bruce were waiting for Tony to offer an explanation, and they both unconsciously let out a breath of air they didn't know they were holding when Tony finally began. "Did you know S.H.I.E.L.D is one of the most incompetent organizations to ever exist? Like, ever?" Tony turned to face Bruce. "Remember that conversation we had about the X-People…? X-Guys…? Whatever the hell they were called. Anyways, turns out that they thought it was okay and failed to mention that they are under S.H.I.E.L.D's jurisdiction now. So that little 5 v. 6 we had the other week," Tony unconsciously flexed his left wrist, still feeling pins and needles shooting through his joints from where part of a building collapsed on top of it while he was mid-flight, "equates to nothing more than a elementary school playground brawl to them. Not to mention the damages I now have to pay for because Fury acts like he doesn't have a dollar to his name. Thanks, kid."
Peter watched in silence as Tony grasped the mug of coffee Peter had filled for him like a lifeline. He could see the way his hand trembled faintly from a likely combination of sleep deprivation, stress, and the usual much higher than recommended daily caffeine intake.
"Relax Tony, if the X-Men are under S.H.I.E.L.D's jurisdiction, there's nothing we can do now. If anything, it'll make doing my research easier."
"How's your little mutate project going anyways, Banner?"
"We went over this for an hour yesterday Tony," Bruce groaned. "Mutant, not mutate."
"I know, I just like to see you bent out of shape. Although, please, don't...actually bend out of shape." Tony smirked. It was a game for him, sometimes, to see how quickly he could get under his teammates' skin.
"Screw you, Tony," Bruce shot back unconvincingly, humour lacing his riposte.
Peter couldn't help himself but laugh.