Alright, I'd have liked to do this a little later, but age is, unfortunately, a factor that wouldn't stop digging at my brain. So have this fluffy goodness, and enjoy!
In which Peter is not a morning person, and Tony is.
The weeks lapsed into months with a quiet discretion. Tony filed my deed poll, and I officially took up the name I chose for myself – Peter Parker. Spider-man, to those in the know.
The adoption paperwork was less straightforward; even with Mr. Stark's influence, there still had to be visits and meetings. I was asked a lot of questions, but one kept surfacing – why did I want to be adopted by Mr. Stark? I didn't have long until I was an adult, after all. Why not just keep the status quo for a few more years?
"Well," I'd tell them, excited for the opportunity to gush about my mentor, "Mr. Stark is great! He's always looked out for me. I know he can teach me amazing things. We have a good relationship, and he's always looked after me, accepted me for who I am without question. He helps me when I'm struggling, and cheers me on when I need it. He… Loves me."
That wasn't quite it, though. By the end of my impassioned speech I was always somewhat dissatisfied, left feeling as though I hadn't quite done justice to the extent of our relationship, the deep respect I felt for this man offering to be my father.
It had been a few weeks without a word when a sharp knock at my door roused me haltingly from sleep.
"What?" I groaned into my pillow, slinging an arm over my head as the room flooded with light. "Tony, it's the weekend. And it's…" I cast a squinted eye to my alarm clock, and groaned again. "6am, Mr. Stark. 6am. On a weekend."
"Avengers never sleep, kid," Tony chirped back, his voice irritatingly jovial for such an ungodly hour as he yanked back the curtains to a brilliant sunrise. "Man, look at that view… Get up," he added, clapping a hand on my foot beneath the duvet. "Coffee's in the kitchen. Five minutes."
I was still half asleep as I slid onto a stool, jaw cracking with a wide yawn as I wrapped my hands around a hot mug. "What's so urgent that it needed to be discussed at the crack of dawn?" I quipped, leaning into the caffeinated steam with a shiver, closed eyes flicking open at the sound of paper on marble. Tony stood opposite me, his own coffee held in one hand, while the other rested on a large white envelope he'd slid before me.
"Go on," he prompted, leaning a hip against the counter. "Open it, kid. It's for you."
My hands shook as I placed down my mug, trembling fingers peeling open the sticky fold hesitantly. Tony rolled his eyes with a groan, leaning forward. "Before we all die of old age, please."
I laughed uncertainly, sliding a thin sheet of paper from its housing, eyes welling at the certificate in my hands.
Peter Parker-Stark.
Peter Parker-Stark.
"Yeah, came through this late last night. Got it sent over as soon as I could – cost me an arm, let me tell you. Not many couriers willing to work in the early hours. But I wanted you to have it when you woke… Until I remembered that teenagers don't surface until the afternoon. There was no way I was waiting that long." I looked up to Tony's eyes fixed on me, shining like my own. "I… I hope it's okay. The name thing, I mean. I was going to ask, but then I thought, y'know, it could be a nice surprise. But I can change it, if you want." A flicker of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, betraying both his happiness and his uncertainty.
I slid the certificate back into its envelope carefully, lovingly, before returning the file to the counter and moving around to stand before him.
"Mr. Stark… Tony," I amended. Mr. Stark was too formal now, I guess. "I love it. Thank you… For everything." My words faltered once more and I wrapped my arms around him, breathing deeply as I fought off the tears, enveloping myself in his comforting scent of soldered steel and aftershave.
His hand petted the back of my head clumsily, smoothing the waves he found there. "It's fine, kid. Don't mention it." His throat cleared, Adam's apple bobbing against me. "You're a good kid, Peter. I'm proud to have you… To call you my son. And an Avenger, of course," he added, making me chuckle.
"Child and teammate, huh?" I sniffled as I drew away, wiping my eyes around my grin. He watched me affectionately, his gaze soft.
"Hell of a son, and the best friendly neighbourhood Spiderman anyone could ask for."