I don't own Marvel or its characters, and I make no profit from this story- which is entirely a work of fiction. Well hello! I have to say I have been overwhelemed with the number of favorites and follows this story has gotten so far, really guys, it means a lot to me. This is my first ever attempt at Avengers fanfic, so it's amazing the level of interest and support I've gotten. I really expected to be tore down for involving Peter, "underage" as he is, but I refuse to apologize for my choices! I hope you enjoy and know that I am working as hard as I can to update when I can! =)
Tony rolled over in his huge California king sized bed, swathed so tightly in the white duvet that he looked like the cream filling of a Hostess Twinkie. He scrubbed a hand down his face and cracked open a whiskey eye, peering at the blacked-out penthouse windows where FRIDAY would surely have displayed the time upon detecting his waking up. Soft light lit the room at about 20%, FRIDAY following protocol to make the room lit just enough for Tony to see around the room. Tony groaned at the time, 3:30 in the morning. As tired as he should be, his new body decided that 5 hours of sleep was enough. Pepper would applaud him; 5 hours straight was probably close to record breaking when it came to Tony and his sleep habits.
He let himself slump further down into the softness of the mountain of pillows spread at the head of the bed and contemplate life. In just one day his life totally tilted on its axis in a brand-new way and Tony never really did like surprises. What had happened to him in the last 24 hours somehow seemed more draining than having an absent and abusive father, years of being a playboy and drowning in alcoholism, Afghanistan, losing Pepper, his responsibilities as Tony Stark and Iron Man, and the fucking Accords and Siberia. He supposed if it was going to happen to anyone, it would happen to Tony Stark.
Sighing, he shoved himself up from bed and padded across carpet so lush his toes sank into it toward his massive walk-in closet for a shirt. If he was going to be awake, he might as well get some work done. He tugged a faded Metallica t-shirt over his head, realizing the irony of actually owning and wearing the same t-shirt when he was originally 21 the first time. Fucking magic.
He stepped into the elevator and leaned against the cool railing, fishing his Stark Phone out of the pocket of the black cotton jogger pants he wore to bed.
"Where to, boss?" asked FRIDAY.
"I'll go to the lab; no one up but me at this time of the night."
"That's not true, boss, as Vision is up and pacing the common area kitchen."
The AI's voice seemed to be laced with a hint of encouragement, and Tony wasn't sure if it was that FRIDAY became a tiny bit more human every day in understanding emotions or that his conscious was projecting his internal guilt onto the AI's voice.
Swallowing hard, Tony righted himself.
"Take me to Vision."
Tony took a breath to steady himself and stepped off the elevator when FRIDAY opened the doors. He clenched his fists at his sides and resolved not to look in direction of the couch, where just the other day he had nearly pulled Peter into his arms, awash with a fierce instinct to comfort and protect the boy after he watched himself die at Thanos' hand. If he looked, he'd remember falling into the way Peter's eyes shone when he said he believed in Tony, how it made his new, young heart squeeze with pride. He'd feel the flex of toned muscle in Peter's shoulders where his hands gripped the boy that night. And that sinful way the kid licked that milkshake spoon…
E = h f = (h/2π) 2π f = ~ω. E = 1 2mv2. p = mv. Tony let himself think about random quantum physics formulas. That was a safe train of thought. He rounded the corner and spotted Vision. The android was going through all the cabinets in the kitchen as if he was taking inventory. Vision had now taken to wearing human clothing and Tony wasn't sure about how he felt about Vision's sense of style, which seemed to be a page ripped right out of the Steve Rogers manual.
Not that it looked bad; Vision pulled it off well. Tony considered fondly the soft cashmere V neck sweater, midnight black in color, that made the starched collar of the white and purple checkered button down pop that he wore beneath. He paired it with a pair of gray dress pants that looked like something straight out of Steve's closet. The thought of the Captain made something pull painfully in his chest, and Tony heaved a great sigh and pulled a chair out from the marble topped island.
Vision turned and gave Tony a warm smile.
"Have you come to keep me company a while, old friend?"
Tony bit his lip, drawing himself to sit up straight.
"I'm afraid I don't live up to that title."
Vision just gave him a searching look, his blue eyes doing that thing that made Tony feel like the android was seeing into his very core.
"You have come seeking forgiveness, Anthony, yet there is no necessity for there has been no crime committed against me."
"Don't do that," Tony rasped, "don't act like my avoidance of you since Siberia isn't an issue."
Vision paused from his movements toward the coffee machine, turning to consider Tony a second time before continuing with filling the machine with freshly ground coffee beans for FRIDAY to begin brewing.
"I think, Anthony Edward Stark, that you let the darkness of doubt that clouds your heart and whispers into your mind get the best of you. I gather, from the parts of me that are made up of JARVIS, this is a foundation laid deep within you by Howard Stark's hand. For everything you have done in your entire life, you feel you never measure up. You are somehow convinced that you are undeserving of happiness."
Vision let this hang in the air and Tony could not deny any of it. If it was Steve saying this, Tony would deflect, would go on defensive, would escalate the situation until they were both so incensed that they forgot they were discussing Tony's inadequacies. There was something about Vision that wouldn't allow Tony to be false beyond a practiced smile.
They listened to the coffee percolate, splashing down into the glass pot. It filled the air with it's delicious aroma and Tony was pleased it was the special Turkish beans that Clint of all people had gone out of the way to make sure to bring back for him after his last mission there. Another twinge of guilt stabbed through him as he thought of the archer, how it had been nearly two months since he had chosen to come "out of retirement" and had become a fugitive. Tony should've reached out to Laura so long ago, but he'd been too wrapped up in his own pity party.
Vision setting a mug of steaming brew before him jarred him from his thoughts and Tony murmured a low thank you, accepting cream and sugar when the android offered it. He wrapped his hands around the porcelain and let the heat seep into his hands in the way Pepper used to do on rainy days when she made her favorite tea. It was a comforting gesture and feeling somewhat fortified, Tony lifted his eyes to meet Vision's.
"Everything you say about me is true. I never could be what Howard wanted me to be, which was practically Steve, and for so long I bought the lie that my weapons were keeping people safe. I'm never going to have enough lifetimes for the Stark Foundation and Stark Industries to undo all the horrors the Stark name profited from. All the renewable clean energy, clean water wells in third world countries, the millions of dollars I pour into humanitarian causes, isn't going to make up for, Vis."
"There is a saying: To err is to be human. You are only human, Anthony. Realizing the error of your previous ways and working to make the world a better place is a noble path. No matter how hard you try, you are one man and cannot ease all the suffering of this world. And despite how you may feel, all this world's suffering is not brought on by you. I would say you are taking on your responsibilities as a human being quite spectacularly."
Vision thoughtfully sipped from his own mug of coffee, his eyes shutting happily as the flavors danced over his palette. This spurred Tony into action, remembering his own coffee nestled between his palms, and it struck him as odd he'd ever forgotten about it in the first place. Coffee was probably what ran through his veins in place of blood; ignoring coffee simply just wasn't done by Tony Stark. Lifting it to his lips, Tony let the warm liquid fill his mouth and could feel it assuage a meager part of the ache he felt in his heart as he swallowed.
Vision's eyes found his over the rim of the mug and he contemplated Tony in that way of his, and Tony did his best not to fidget beneath the gaze.
"I do not require an apology for your absence during your time of recovery from surgery and in your time of grief. I grieve too, for the loss of our comrades and for the mistakes that were made in the disagreement with the Accords."
The pain between the words was sharp, no matter how gently delivered in his soothing voice. Tony thought of the budding closeness between Vision and Wanda, how Rhodey had been accidently injured in Vision's distraction by the fallen witch. It dug at him, pulling open barely healed scabs of betrayal and anger that even the coffee wasn't going to fix.
"I do require, however, an explanation of how you are suddenly sitting before me looking 30 years younger than when I saw you a week ago."
"Hold onto your coffee, Vis, it's one hell of a story. FRIDAY, if you'd be a dear…"
A holographic screen popped up in front of Vision, and FRIDAY let it run.
It was hard to gauge what Vision was feeling or thinking after the video finished. He simply drank from his cup, but Tony could tell the gears were turning in his mind. When he did finally speak, it was with a tone of acceptance that Tony didn't like.
"I guess I really am a monster. The end of this world will come because Thanos will want this."
He tapped at the luminescent orange gem on his forehead.
"It isn't your fault, Vis. Anyone on this planet could hold that stone, it wouldn't make it their fault either. He's just a power-hungry tyrant, as all villains are, but we are going to put in him in his place. Strange gave me this do-over for a reason, and I'm going to make sure this world ends up on the winning side."
Vision smiled at that, but it was one laced with eternal sadness.
"We can't do it alone, just us three and Strange. Thor is in Asgard and Banner is missing. You know you will have to reach out to our missing comrades."
Tony arched a brow.
"You assume I know where they are."
Vision just smiled a knowing smile.
"I'm not Secretary Ross, Anthony."
"You certainly aren't, and thank Thor for that," commented Tony whole-heartedly before throwing back the rest of his coffee. He made to stand, but Vision reached out and gently laid a hand on his forearm.
"You are a good man, Anthony Stark. If nothing else proves it to you, let your guidance of Peter prove it to you. He comes to see me often, and all he ever talks about is you. He wants so badly to make you proud."
Tony took a deep breath and nodded. All Peter talked about was him? Yeah, the kid really did need a life. If Tony was the most interesting thing in his life, Peter was definitely doing something wrong…especially going around licking spoons like a god damn porn star, all in public too, little exhibitionist- TONY NO!
"Uh, yeah, the kid is great. Genius in the making Vis."
Vision tightened his grip slightly.
"He cares about you Anthony. Don't shove him aside just because he's younger than you."
Tony looked at Vision sharply, trying to dismantle what those words meant. Vision couldn't possibly know about this weird, perverse train of thought Tony had been on surrounding Peter. The kid needed him to be a mentor. He didn't need Tony trying to get in his pants…his delectably tight, ass hugging pants (TONY NO!). Being 21 again was fucking awesome but Peter still wasn't the age of consent; the gap was still wide enough that Tony could go to jail in the state of New York.
"I believe it was Mark Twain who said: Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter," Vision supplied, his iridescent eyes watching Tony's face.
Tony slipped his arm free, his heart racing like he'd run a mile on the treadmill. He didn't even have a comeback for that, just stuttered a "thanks for the chat," and made like a banana and split. Vision just shook his fondly, watching as the billionaire bolted for the elevator and wondered how a genius could be so dense. Humans were truly interesting, mysterious creatures.
Tony didn't want to think about the implications of Vision's words and how they paired with Strange's weird warning, so he did the usual Tony thing and buried himself in his workshop, beginning a complicated project that would require all his attention so he could think of nothing else. He had FRIDAY blast loud rock music while he worked, his AI favoring his fashion choice of the day and choosing Metallica. Tony was half way through the Black album and hunched over a complicated schematic when a hand touched his shoulder. Tony just about jumped out of his skin, whirling around on his wheeled stool as FRIDAY lowered the music to more tolerable levels for human beings.
"Holy tits on a goldfish, Parker, you scared the shit out of me!" Tony barked, instantly feeling terrible at the way Peter shrank back.
"I'm s-sorry, Mr. Stark, really, I called out to you like five times but the music was too loud. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to frighten you. I should've told FRIDAY to announce me or something, I'm stupid for not thinking of it before, really I'm sorry!"
He was doing that thing he did, where he talked a mile a minute and his tawny brown eyes grew wide and his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. Tony was a sucker for that; Peter was a ball of passionate energy and he threw himself wholeheartedly into every situation he got himself into. Just like Rogers, Tony thought to himself before he pushed the thought away hurriedly.
He held up a hand to stop Peter's tirade, which surely would carry on for at least another ten minutes if Tony let it.
"It's ok, Peter, really. Good morning, by the way. What brings you down here this early?"
Peter grinned at him sheepishly, making the dimple in his chin appear. Another one of those weird things that Tony's brain cataloged for no apparent reason.
"It's not exactly early, Mr. Stark. It's already 9:30 and I've been up since 7."
"What kind of teenager gets up at 7?" Tony asked incredulously.
"Creature of habit, I guess," Peter muttered, and that adorable blush was back. He nervously pushed at the stray curl that always flopped down on his forehead and Tony crossed his arms over his chest, feigning nonchalance and ignoring the whisper in his brain that made his fingers twitch, longing to sink his fingers in Peter's soft looking hair.
"Um, so I, if you want, and if not it's totally ok too, I see you are busy and I don't know when you got up, so maybe, already, and that's fine because you can always heat it up later, but I – "
Tony arched a brow with a smirk.
"Do I need code to decipher what you are trying to tell me? Would it help if we tapped it out in Morse Code? You know Morse, right?"
Peter got impossibly pinker, hating how he tripped all over his words like his tongue was sliding over a sheet of black ice.
"Yeah, I've known Morse since I was like six," Peter admitted.
"Good to know. How long have you known plain English?" Tony teased.
Peter smiled a small smile, ducking his head in embarrassment and pointed to the nearest work bench. Tony looked in the direction Peter indicated, noticing a large silver covered platter. His eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline.
"You got me breakfast?"
"Well, no, Mr. Stark. I made you breakfast. You know, homemade."
Tony stared at Peter, dumbfounded, letting that process.
"You made me breakfast."
"Um, yeah. Is that not ok? I totally get it, you probably follow a strict diet, I probably should too, being a hero means you should stay fit, right? You don't have to eat it, it's just something that May and I do when she's not working on the weekends and I thought, since I'm usually here, that maybe I'd carry the tradition over, but it's ok, Mr. Stark, really you don't have to eat any of it."
Tony leaned forward and physically clapped his hand over Peter's mouth. Peter froze and his eyes went impossibly wide. Tony watched him intently for a moment before slowly removing his hand, settling back on his stool.
"You bring me food, and yet, there it sits. Come on, kid, bring it over!"
Peter nearly tripped over his Converse sheathed feet trying to get to the platter, and Tony had the fleeting thought that if DUM-E were human he'd have Peter's grace. His enthusiasm was endearing and Tony caught himself smiling fondly. Peter returned with a plate heaped with still steaming pancakes, and the aroma permeated the air.
"So, I made them with blueberries, well, because you are always eating blueberries, so I figured you'd appreciate them in pancakes."
Tony made grabby hands at the plate and Peter passed it to him with a chuckle. He left and came back with another plate, this one laden with sausage and bacon, a little glass bowl of maple syrup, and a fork balanced on the side.
"Shit, kid, you really went all out, didn't you?"
Of course, Peter flushed; it was constant around Tony.
"Don't thank me just yet, you haven't tried any of it yet."
"There's too much at stake for you to poison me now, Parker, do it for after we save the world," Tony grunted, stuffing a large helping of pancake into his mouth.
When he swallowed, he stabbed his fork in Peter's direction.
"You, young man, have made a grave error in judgement. By feeding me this most ridiculously delicious breakfast, you have thus doomed yourself to be the personal breakfast chef of Tony Stark. I hope you made a lot because if I remember correctly, my 21-year-old self can eat a lot."
Peter was literally tickled pink, and they ate their breakfast, Tony declaring loudly to FRIDAY to note that Peter was now his most favorite and best Avenger when Peter passed him a whole thermos of freshly brewed coffee. Tony didn't miss the way the kid's eyes lit warm like the sunrise with every forkful Tony swallowed. That was something to think about.
Peter swelled with pride; this was the happiest he'd seen Tony in weeks. Aunt May always told him that good food equaled a good mood; Peter was pleased that it worked. He just wanted to take care of Tony, in any way Tony would let him, and he figured if telling a little white lie about a "breakfast tradition" got him closer to that goal, it would be ok. He'd punish himself for it by washing all the dishes instead of letting the house maids do so.
Later that afternoon, when Tony reached over and snagged the edge of Peter's stool, yanking Peter away from his own research in an abruptly rude fashion that scattered hologram screens as Peter's body moved unceremoniously through them, and Peter couldn't even bring himself to feel perturbed. He didn't think it was possible for him ever to be truly mad at Tony anyway, but this…
Peter gasped, his innocent eyes going round with excitement, but what made his heart race faster, he wasn't sure. It could've been from the amazing prototype schematic for what Tony was calling the Iron Spider Armor, or it could've been the fact that they were sitting so close together that their thighs were pressed firmly together, and Tony was so wrapped up in explaining the upgrades, he didn't think twice about the non-existent distance between their bodies.
End Chapter. Oh Tony, just let it happen! Let yourself fall, you fool! How long will he resist? Comments and reviews always appreciated! Until next time, lovies! 3