A/N: Hello to whomever was kind enough to read my story! Italics are for thoughts, and regular text is just text. You get it. Give me a like or a comment if you enjoyed this fic! Thanks! :)
Peter shuffled down the hallway, toward his locker. It was the last class, and he was dying to get through it.
He had stayed up all night working on a paper that was due for his history class this morning, and hadn't gotten any sleep. The energy drink he had only helped for so long before he felt a wave of exhaustion crash down on him.
It didn't help that his Spidey-senses were making the fluorescent lights in the school harsh on his eyes, giving him a pounding headache.
Last class. Last class. Last class.
Plopping down in his seat, he put his head in his folded arms and closed his eyes for a moment, hoping the pain would relieve itself.
Just as he almost dozed off, Ned nudged him, startling him slightly.
"Peter, class is started! Are you okay?" he whispered.
"I'm fine," Peter said, "I just didn't get much sleep last night."
Ned gave a look of concern before nodding and turning back to the board.
Just a little while longer.
School finally let out and Peter was more than eager to climb into the car that was waiting for him outside.
"Hey, kid," Happy said.
Peter smiled tiredly at the driver through the rear view mirror and leaned back in his seat. He rubbed his head, groaning softly.
"Rough day?" Happy asked, eyes flicking upward at the boy. He noticed Peter's quietness. Usually he would be talking off Happy's ear, but not today. He must've been feeling pretty bad then.
"No, I'm just worn out," Peter admitted.
Happy grunted and shifted his gaze back to the road. Reaching up, he pressed a small button near the mirror, and the windows around Peter suddenly darkened considerably.
Almost immediately, Peter's whole body slumped, relaxing fully. He breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks, Happy," he mumbled as he sank deeper into the leather seats, stretching out. He pulled his backpack closer and used it as a pillow, then wrapped his jacket tighter around him, finally letting his eyes fall shut.
Fifteen minutes later, Happy pulled into Tony's reserved parking spot at the lab and shut off the car. He pressed the window button again, and the glass returned to its normal state. The little bit of light that came in, however, did nothing to arouse the sleeping boy in the backseat.
"Peter," he hissed softly, "we're here."
Peter didn't make a sound, nor did he move.
Happy sighed, then produced his phone from his pocket and called Tony.
"Hey, Hap. What's up?"
"Tony, you've gotta come down to the garage. Peter fell asleep in the back and I can't get him up. He's out cold," Happy explained.
There was silence on the other end, then Tony said, "Be down in a minute," and hung up.
What was really a few minutes later, the billionaire came out and opened Peter's door. Tony's eyes softened— only a bit, of course— when he saw the boy curled up, clutching his backpack and snoring softly. His dark hair stuck up in wild directions, making him look impossibly young and small to the adults that stood over him.
Tony chuckled quietly and leaned down to rub Peter's shoulder gently.
"Hey, kid. Wake up," he whispered.
Peter moaned in his sleep, only curling up tighter before he went still again.
"Pete," Tony said exasperatedly, "Come on, bud, it's Tony."
The boy still didn't wake up.
"Guess I'll have to carry him," Tony sighed.
"You sure, boss? I can get h—" Happy began.
"No, it's okay. I've got him. He's light for his age, anyway."
Tony bent over and gathered Peter in his arms, one hand under the boy's knees and the other behind his back. Peter instinctively snuggled closer to Tony, face against the man's chest and arms tucked up against his own. He let out a content sigh.
Tony's lips twitched upward as he looked down at Peter, carrying him to the elevator.
"Lab, Fri," he said quietly, so as not to disturb the spider he held.
Peter woke up though, as the elevator dinged and the doors opened with a whoosh.
"Misser Stark?" he slurred with tiredness, and rubbed his eyes.
Suddenly, he sat straight up as he realized just who was holding him and tried to wriggle out of Tony's arms.
"Mister Stark! I can walk myself, please," he blushed, clearly embarrassed.
Tony let him down, and Peter practically ran into the lab and began distracting himself with tinkering.
The billionaire barely stifled a laugh as he watched the boy. Happy came in a moment later, holding Peter's bag.
"You forgot this, Peter," he said.
The fifteen-year-old snatched the pack out of Happy's hand with a hurried 'thank you' and returned to his work.
Happy shared a look with Tony, and Tony just smiled amusedly. Happy left, and the other man came to Peter's side, admiring his work.
"Want to help me with this prototype, Pete?" he asked.
Peter nodded, not meeting Tony's eyes, face still flushed.
They got to work.
Hours later, Tony could tell Peter had not gotten enough sleep still. The boy was trying desperately to pay attention, but he kept blinking slowly and yawning behind his hands, as if Tony couldn't see them.
For a few minutes, the man went on about the new Spider-suit program for Karen, looking back at Peter, only to find that he had drifted off to sleep again, face smushed on the table. The boy's back rose and fell heavily, and one hand was still wrapped around a tablet.
Tony shook his head; he knew it was only a matter of time before the boy conked out.
Again, he picked up Peter, making sure not to jostle and awaken him, Tony carried the boy into his break room. This one was nicer than an average break room, with nice carpets, couches, a mini fridge, and a tv that was mounted on the wall.
He laid Peter on the couch, where Peter automatically curled into himself. Tony thought it was freaking cu—
No. Not cute. Just...endearing. That's all.
Grabbing a blanket that was meant more for decor than anything, he carefully spread it over the boy's frame, making sure it was covering his feet, of course.
Finally, pulling all the blinds in the room closed, he left Peter to sleep.
Hours later, when Peter woke from his much-needed nap, he would smile to himself when he figured out Tony had given him the night off and let him rest.