Summary: Peter loses track of time while on patrol, and Tony isn't happy about it.


Peter hadn't meant to stay out on patrol two hours later than he should have, but he had. He blamed the cute cats he'd just had to stop and pet while swinging through the streets.

Of course, nothing ever meant to happen with Peter Parker. He'd simply lost track of time and somehow forgot Tony's rule of coming home at eleven pm. He hadn't really thought about looking up to the sky for just a brief second and figuring out that the sky was pitch black, covered in stars, and it was therefore well past eleven.

It wasn't that he hated the rule – he knew Tony was only thinking of him when it came to exam season and getting in enough sleep – but he wished he had just a little more time. Still, this didn't get rid of the fact that this hadn't meant to happen at all. Usually, Tony would check his watch, see that it was one minute to eleven, sigh and shake his head at the fact that Peter still hadn't come home and begin to leave his workshop and head upstairs to wait for the rebellious child, only for Peter to come swinging in through the door when the clock reached exactly eleven, face as red as his suit and breaths coming in heavy gasps. There'd still be a giddy smile on his face, though. The one thing that had driven Tony away from lecturing him every damn time.

Of course, Karen had completely given up telling Peter that it was time to head home. The kid would readily comply, swing to the next building, find a cat perched on the roof and then spend the next hour petting it. Then, another cat would join and ask for Peter's attention, and then another, and then another… until the AI decided it would probably be best to just call Tony and let him do the speaking.

"Calling Mister Stark."

Peter's eyes widened at the sound of Karen's voice and the sudden tell-tale beep, beep of the phone ringing which followed after. "Karen!" he squealed (though he'd never admit he did). The cat in his lap meowed and nudged his side in an effortless attempt to get the kid's hand back on her belly. Peter, however, was not focusing entirely on the cat for once in his short life. He checked the time and his mouth dropped open the tiniest bit as '12:47' blinked back at him. He stared at it for a while until the white light (that he could have sworn was mocking him) became too much for his eyes.

He tried all he could to get Karen to hang up, even going so far as to quickly try and get out of the suit before his mentor answered. Nevertheless, as Parker luck so loved to follow him around everywhere, the beeping he had wanted so badly to stop but now was practically begging to keep going went silent. With a hint of hope, Peter ventured to ask the question that would inevitably tell him if he was grounded or not. "Um… Karen?" There was a slight break in his voice, and his hands were growing increasingly hot and sweaty. Deep down, he knew his AI hadn't ended the call, but he'd had to at least try.

"This is Mister Stark."

Peter could tell the man wasn't exactly… pleased with him. His voice had adopted an almost firm tone, something he rarely ever used with him. He gulped. "Uh, y-yes. I know. Hi, Mister Stark, Sir."

"Yeah, hi. Wanna tell me why you're… hm, let's see. Two. Hours. Late?"

Peter didn't even notice the cats moving off him one by one, distaste in their steps as they pranced off for attention somewhere else. He was way too focused on trying to calm his breathing and pin all his attention on the man's voice. It wasn't that he was scared of him, per se, he just… well. It was easier to handle his words when he was in a good mood, as you'd probably expect.

Apparently, he was thinking too much to figure out an answer, because Tony did something. He cleared his throat.

Peter would have screamed if he hadn't clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Peter, you better give me an answer, 'cause I'm not happy right now."

The kid felt his heart swell with something he hadn't felt since Tony had taken the suit from him years ago. Shame. Like he had let the only man he cared about – the only man he had left – down. That he'd broken Tony's trust and he'd never be allowed back at the Compound and he would hate him forever and he'd take back what he'd said about getting him into MIT and he'd never let him wear the Spider-Man suit again and he'd never give it back and he'd tell all the cats in the world never to go near him again and-

"Kid, stop thinking what you're thinking, okay?" Tony's voice broke though his thoughts, voice sounding a little softer yet the hint of sternness was still there. "You know it's not gonna happen, you know we're gonna sort this out, and you know nothing's gonna change. D'you hear me?" It never ceased to amaze Peter how much Tony knew him. Nobody had ever been able to read him that well (save for maybe Ned) when they were standing right in front of him, never mind on the other end of a phone.

"I-I guess…" So, he'd found his voice. Probably not as fortunate as you'd think.

The kid could imagine the billionaire's eyebrows shooting up to his hairline and his face adopting that 'are you serious?' look with the next words he spoke. "You guess? Kid, I love you, okay? That enough proof for you that everything's gonna be fine?"

Peter nodded, though Tony couldn't see him, and gulped yet again. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Right, then. I expect you're heading home now?"

Peter had never swung into motion so fast. His eyes widened and a string of web zoomed out of his shooter simultaneously and so fast he could feel his blood rushing through his body. "Uh, yeah! Yeah, of course, Mister Stark! En Compound route- I mean, en route to… the Compound… uh." He faltered.

"You're coming back?"

"Yes. Yes. Exactly that." Why hadn't he just said he was on his way to begin with?

"Okay. So let's start talking."

Why? "Okay."

"You're late, Peter."

"Y-yes. Yes, I am, and I'm so sorry, Mister Stark, I swear-"

"Yeah, okay. Why are you late?"

The kid gasped slightly as he almost missed catching the end of his web, grappling with it for a moment and cursing his nerves for making him slip. He never slipped. "You alright, Pete?"

Pete.

Somehow, that made him feel better already.

"Yeah, just… slipped."

"Okay. Wanna tell me, then?"

Yeah, Mister Stark, I was playing with a bunch of cats like the five-year-old I am. "I got side-tracked."

"Side-tracked, hey?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"There, uh- well. There were some, you know…"

He heard Tony sigh on the other end and bit his lip, still swinging from building to building and not really bothering to check whether people could see him or not. "Pete," came the man's voice, "just tell me."

"Okay, well, uh, there, um… uh. Oh my- okay. There were cats, Mister Stark, okay? There were cute little cats everywhere and Karen told me I should head home and so I did but then I had to stop and stroke this little kitty – I named him Tony, by the way – and then, oh my God, Mister Stark, you should've seen them! All these cats came out of nowhere and I really tried, Sir, but I just couldn't leave, you know? I mean, Bruce was on my lap, and Wolf was climbing up my back, and you- I mean, Tony was licking my hand, and Tasha just wouldn't stop meowing at me! They were just… they were so cute, Mister Stark. Please don't be mad." His voice went quiet at the end, as if he were about to cry (from the utter adorableness of the kittens or from the possible disappointment his mentor may currently be feeling, he had no clue whatsoever) and both ends of the line went silent.

Tony didn't quite know what to say. He'd expected the culprit to be cats, if he were being honest – it definitely wouldn't be the first time those little creatures had stopped him on the street when they were walking together. He would keep moving and talking until he realised the kid had stopped several blocks back – but he had not expected that outburst.

On thing for sure, he was getting that kid a damn kitten.

"Okay, Pete, calm down. Listen, I'm not- I'm not mad. Don't think I am."

"You seemed it…"

"I was a tad frustrated that you're two hours late home, but that's it."

Peter grimaced at the reminder. "I'm really sorry," he apologised, "but I promise I'll go to bed as soon as I get home, and I'll cut revision time back a little in the morning so I can sleep for longer, and I swear I won't be tired-"

"Kid, honestly, I don't care about your bedtime right now."

Unexpected. "You don't?"

"No. What I care about is the fact that anything could have happened to you in those two hours. I mean it, Peter, anything. I tell you to come home at eleven because then I have a set time I know you'll be back. Of course, I want you well rested for your exams, but I also… I guess…" Now he was stumbling on his words, goddammit. He wasn't the one being reprimanded, here! He sighed, putting his head in his hands from where he was sat on a seat by the door to the Compound, waiting for the kid to get back. "The world's a dangerous place, buddy. Seriously. I'm not just saying that. There are- there are people out there. Bad people that will do anything to get their hands on Spider-Man. I just need to know you're safe, okay? If you're not home by eleven, then I know something may be wrong, and I can look into it. That's why I'm so strict about these rules. I can't have you getting hurt; on my watch, on anybody's watch. It's not happening."

Peter bit his lip harder, feeling guilt swell inside his stomach. He looked up, tears shining in his eyes, and saw the building in the distance. He sniffed. "I understand, Sir."

"I know you do."

"I won't do it again."

"I know you won't." And he did. He knew it. He could tell the kid was probably a little overwhelmed at the moment by what he'd said, and was most likely also feeling slightly upset by his words. Peter wasn't one to have to be told off for something, whether it be by himself, someone else in the Compound, or one of his teachers. He was a good boy. And this changed absolutely nothing.

"Hey, Mister Stark? Why didn't you call me earlier and ask where I was?"

This was where Tony's face scrunched up a little in what could only be described as embarrassment. He coughed slightly. "Uh, definitely didn't fall asleep. Nope. Not me."

Peter laughed, and the carefree sound brought joy back to the billionaire's heart as he stood and walked closer to the door, seeing the kid a little further away. "The great Tony Stark fell asleep? Wow. Whatever will become of you?"

Tony chuckled. "I know, right? It's a disgrace. FRIDAY woke me up and told me you still weren't home, but I didn't want to phone you, if we're being honest, here."

"You didn't? How come?"

"Because I thought something might have happened. I checked your location and you weren't moving like you would have been if you were swinging… you were still. And I thought that… maybe you'd been kidnapped or you'd run into trouble… or worse. I didn't want to ring you and get no answer."

"I was playing with cats."

"Yeah, you were. Would've been nice to know."

"So… you were scared?"

Tony make a face. "I wouldn't say scared, exactly," he insisted, "just… slightly concerned."

"Slightly."

"No more than that."

At this point, a flash of red swung through the open door, landing perfectly behind him. Peter turned and slipped off his mask, a grin plastered on his face. "Of course, Dad."

"Of course." Tony rolled his eyes and hung up the phone, tossing it onto the couch before moving towards his boy. "C'mere, you." His arms opened and Peter crashed into them, burying his face in the man's shirt and clinging onto the fabric. There was a happy smile gracing his lips, which made Tony mirror it immediately. "Don't you ever do anything like that again, you hear me?" he told him, landing a well-aimed poke to the boy's side.

Peter laughed and batted his hand away, nodding. "I won't."

"Good."

"Hey… am I grounded?"

Tony rose both eyebrows. "Do you think you should be?" he asked as he crossed his arms.

Peter felt awkwardly put on the spot, fidgeting with his fingers and shuffling his feet. "Um, I, uh, I-I guess, yeah? I… I don't know."

The billionaire had to chuckle at the kid's stuttering, reaching down to ruffle his hair. "You're not grounded. I know you won't do it again."

Peter smiled up at the man. "Sorry… again."

"Yeah, you've said. Stop it. I'm getting bored of the word. It's all sorted. Now, what was that about you heading straight to bed as soon as you got home?"

The kid's eyes widened and he stepped back. "Right! Yeah. Okay, I'll go, then. G'night, Mister Stark!"

"Night, buddy. Also, don't you set that alarm earlier than half six, alright? I'll know if you do!" He made the 'I'm watching you!' gesture with his fingers, causing Peter to give a cheeky salute before rushing off to his room.

Tony watched him go with a sparkle in his eyes. One could call it pride, or adoration, or, to the more watchful people, love. It was clear as day that Tony Stark loved his young intern more than he'd ever admit. He felt happy when Peter showed him his good grades, he felt delighted when he showed him a new trick he'd learned with his suit, and he felt elated when he helped him with his Iron Man suit and managed to improve something not even he would have thought of. He felt so much pride for Peter. Like he was his boy. His. He cared for him as well as mentored him. Hell, out of all the empty rooms in the building, the kid's one was right next to Tony's. It was no secret to anyone in the building that Peter Parker was so much more than an intern to Tony Stark, especially since May had died…

It was like this little beacon of light – of hope – had entered his life and turned it around in the best of ways.

And, as the man began to make his way back to his own room, a smile on his lips and love in his heart, he remembered two things.

The first one was that Peter had named a cat after him.

And the second, was that he had called him Dad.