20+ Questions
Friday's internship went well. Peter teamed up with Anni while Emily was paired with Mark to plan a robot that could function as an assistant for someone with limited mobility. They were going to build them over the next few weeks, and whoever's proved most successful would be presented to a board of technology to begin approval for use in assisted living homes to give residents more independence.
Peter was motivated to build something legitimately useful, and he was hoping their team could win. Anni was smart and very focused, so he was confident in their team. Marcus and Emily had the upper hand with creativity, though, so Peter stretched himself to think outside the box while still making their robot efficient and functional.
After a dedicated two hours' work, Peter discreetly stayed behind so he could take a different elevator than his team's up to the penthouse.
He walked out, buzzing with anticipation.
"Hey, you have contacts." It was the first thing Tony said to him, and Peter shrugged a little self-consciously. "Yeah, I wear them sometimes." Even though he wanted to look like less of a nerd, he also didn't want anyone to suspect he was ditching his glasses to look cooler. It was a paradox.
"You're lucky you can pull off both." Tony waved him off to the kitchen. "Go ahead and grab something to eat. I'll make dinner around maybe six."
Peter pulled open the fridge and scanned its contents. "You cook?"
"Are you surprised?"
He shrugged and grabbed a yogurt from the fridge. "Yeah, I mean…a little. You just seem like the hands-off type. Like you'd just have someone to do stuff for you, since you can afford it."
"That's fair. A lot of billionaires do that. What other assumptions have you had about me?"
Peter disappeared into the pantry and came back out with a bag of granola. "I honestly thought you were going to be really intimidating, but you're only a little intimidating."
"Oh, thanks, Pete." He gave him a look. "You're scared of me?"
"Not scared." Peter sprinkled the cereal over a yogurt cup and stirred it around. "Just intimidated. I also thought you'd be taller." He said it with an innocent shrug. Tony snorted. "You know..." Peter spooned another bite. "I assumed you'd be really busy, like off on Avengers missions all the time or in SI meetings every day."
Tony tilted his head to the side. "Well, Pepper does most of the hard work. I make the public appearances and work our top investors, and of course I'm the brains behind the whole operation. But I do occasionally work in my office."
"Hm." Peter finished his yogurt and threw it away, taking the cereal bag back to the pantry and returning. "Do you like being in business?"
Tony stopped, giving Peter a thoughtful look. "You know, it's been nice in some ways. It's made me successful, obviously. I met Pepper this way, and Rhodey, and Happy. And the team. It's let me be Iron Man, and I'm glad I've been able to give people jobs and improve sustainability." He huffed a little. "Guess I have to at least thank my dad for that." He considered it some more. "If I could choose from anything though, I think I'd just be an engineer. Fix things, build things. What I started with." Peter nodded, glad that the man was being real with him. That he took time to give him a real response. "But you know, if I hadn't had this company and I hadn't created an intern division, I never would've met you." Peter swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Enough about me, though. I have 15 years to catch up on getting to know you." Peter blushed a little, nervous at the prospect of telling Tony Stark about his basic life. "C'mon, let's go crash on the couch. This could take awhile."
When they were both situated, Peter facing Tony and trying to decide what details of his life were important enough to share, the man gestured with a hand. "Alright, shoot, kid. I want to know everything."
Peter could see he was sincere about that, and he wondered how weird it would be to discover you had a son and realize you'd missed all those years of his life. Peter would want to know everything, too. So he started at the very beginning. Day one.
"Well, I was born on August 10th, 2001 at Queens Memorial. I was a week early. I also had full hair." He gestured to his head.
Tony smiled wistfully, as if he was picturing it. "My mom was Mary Fitzpatrick; my dad was Richard Parker. They worked for the CIA." Tony's eyebrows raised, impressed. "They left on a mission involving SHIELD when I was five and died in a plane crash, or at least that's what they told us. I barely remember them, honestly." He shrugged. "My aunt and uncle took me in after that, but...Ben got shot in a mugging a couple years ago." Peter swallowed.
"I'm sorry," Tony offered quietly.
Peter tilted a shoulder. "It was hard. I was upset for a long time. But we got through it, and things got better. Well, except for the asthma. And the—" He cut off short, color rising to his cheeks. "And school being...school."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Do the kids give you trouble?"
Gosh, he didn't miss anything, did he? Peter waved a hand quickly, trying to deescalate what he'd brought on himself. "Not really. Flash is annoying, but he doesn't actually try to hit me or anything. It's just empty threats."
"What kind of a name is Flash?" The concern didn't leave Tony's face, and Peter wished he hadn't ever brought up school. Great, he thought dully. Just one more way to point out to him how much of a dweeb I am. He quickly moved the topic onward. "Ned Leeds is my best friend at school. And in general. He's Hawaiian, and I've known him since fourth grade. I haven't told him about you yet, though...He's going to freak out even more than May." He could see it now—the way Ned's face would light up like he was telling him about a new Star Wars movie and he'd start jostling Peter's arm till he freed it from its socket.
"He seems like a fun kid. You'll have to have him over sometime."
He let out a breath. "He would die. I mean quite actually, possibly die."
"Well, there's a MedBay for that. So what else? You do any extracurriculars?"
"I was in marching band for a couple years playing percussion. Also used to be in robotics club. Now I just do Academic Decathlon." Tony nodded, the expression on his face one of not being able to get enough. Peter wondered if they would literally be here all night.
"Alright, time for the easy questions. Favorite color?"
"Blue."
"Favorite movie?"
"Star Wars? National Treasure, Harry Potter..."
Tony snapped his fingers. "Space, treasure, and wizards. Got it. What about sports? Well, probably not, because of your asthma, huh?"
"Yeah, I don't really do sports. I mean, we do in P.E., but I'm not on a team or anything."
"Favorite type of food?"
"Thai," Peter answered. "May and I have a favorite restaurant that Ben used to take us to."
Tony nodded in understanding. "My favorite's cheeseburgers."
Peter's brow wrinkled. "Does that qualify as a type of food?"
"What's more American than a cheeseburger?"
"True," he relented.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
Peter immediately chuckled. "No."
Tony grinned. "Is there a girl you like, though?"
"Well...I mean, there is MJ." Tony folded his arms and listened in with interest. "She's captain of the Decathlon team, and she's really smart, and kinda serious, but sarcastic and funny. I think you'd like her."
"Well, if you two ever start dating, I'd love to meet her." Peter blushed, and Tony threw him a bone. "What about your favorite subject? In school?"
"Science," Peter answered easily. "My parents were scientists—geneticists. I used to think I got it from them, but I guess I got it from you, too."
Tony's face was fond. "Yeah, I guess you did. Do you have an eye on any career in the science field?"
"I mean, I've considered stuff. Like forensics, or a chemistry lab or something. But I think biotech might be my thing."
"I can see you being good at that. We'll definitely have to work in the lab sometime. Favorite animal?"
"A dog?"
"Favorite music?" Tony's look said he was hoping for a certain answer.
"I like a lot of things."
"Hm. Versatile. You listen to AC/DC before?"
"A little, yeah."
Tony rubbed his hands together. "I'll have to bring you to the light, kid. Okay...anything else I've missed? Besides everything? Anything you think I should know?"
Peter shrugged his shoulders, thinking. "I hate mushrooms on anything. And I don't like olives."
"I'm with you 100 percent on the mushrooms, 0 percent on the olives."
"Planes make me nervous. 'Cause of my parents. I've never actually been on one before."
"I can help you with that one," he offered casually. "I've got a jet. It's very smooth."
"Really?"
"Yeah, we can fly somewhere. Go on a trip. And I'm Iron Man, so I can always catch you if anything goes wrong, but it won't."
Peter couldn't fathom the thought of vacationing with Tony Stark, but he liked the idea. A sudden thought caused his face to scrunch up. "Oh—I really, really don't like spiders. You're going to make fun of me but if I see one bigger than a penny I'll probably scream."
Tony cackled. "Spiders? You're a mini genius; you know most of them don't hurt you, right?"
"I know, but there's just something about them." He shuddered.
Tony looked to the ceiling. "Fri, make a note to identify when Peter's screaming because of a spider versus an actual, life-threatening event."
"Noted, boss."
Peter cast a fake glare his way. "They're creepy, okay? And I don't like that they can go wherever they want because of their stickiness and their webs." He made another disturbed face.
"Don't worry, I probably won't make fun of you for it." The teen deadpanned. "Maybe just once in front of the Avengers, and then I'll be done."
Peter groaned and blocked his face with an arm. "Noo..."
"I'm kidding. But I won't promise you just in case it slips out sometime." Peter rolled his eyes and it earned him a short laugh from Tony. They sat in companionable quiet for the next minute, both deep in thought. Tony broke the silence with a softer voice than Peter was expecting to hear.
"I'm really sorry I missed it all. Your life. If I had known you were out there I would've tried to find you; I hope you know that."
Peter's lip turned up to reassure him. "It's okay. I think things happen when they're supposed to."
"I think you're right," Tony replied. "But it doesn't change that because I was irresponsible, my kid went without his father for fifteen years." His bitterness toward himself came through in his words.
"I always had someone to take care of me; I wasn't alone."
Tony let out a heavy breath. "You know, maybe it's a good thing. You were raised by people better than me, and you're a good kid because of it. I don't think I could've done what they did for you."
Peter shrugged. "I don't think you would've been that bad."
Tony's lips turned up. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Peter's fingers fiddled with the watch on his wrist. The room was quiet, the sound of a clock ticking the only background noise. Peter thought about what else he could say. He definitely wasn't as quick with words as his dad.
"Uh, I'm not allergic to anything."
Tony let out a tight laugh that somehow dispelled the awkwardness. "Thanks for letting me know."
"You're welcome."
Peter shuffled on the couch, taking in the room. It was sunset now, and the city dimmed to a gray blur in the fading light. "This is the weirdest week of my life." He shook his head. "By far."
The man huffed in agreement. "Ditto, kid. This is the last thing I expected to be doing today, but I'm glad I'm doing it. I'm glad you're here."
An airplane blinked across the sky and Peter felt a deep peace settle into his bones. "Did you ever think about having kids?" he asked innocently, secretly fearing the answer. If he said no, Peter would feel guilty for crashing his life. Feel bad that Tony never even planned on having him in the first place and now had to deal with the outcome, whether it was his fault or not. But if he said yes, he would feel bad that he'd ruined his plans for a normal family by being a 15-year-old surprise.
"You know, I didn't, at first. I didn't want to be like my dad, and I didn't want the responsibility, to be honest. It terrified me. But when I started dating Pepper I think I started to consider it. I just always figured it would be...down the road." He smiled at Peter. "But here you are."
Peter's throat felt tight, and he desperately tried to keep all of his insecurity and worry and anxiety at bay. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your life."
Tony's face fell at the apology. He leaned forward to grip his shoulder, forcing Peter's eyes to meet his. "You don't ever need to apologize to me, Pete. You understand? I'm happy to have you here." Peter nodded, his eyes dangerously hot. "I won't ever regret you." Tony let his hand drop, forehead still knit, his frown not quite gone.
That sat in silence for a heavy few moments.
"What's your favorite color?" Peter asked, his voice barely shaking. He prayed the man didn't notice. He couldn't cry in front of him twice in the first few days he'd spent with him. "I mean, besides red and gold." The sky continued to darken to a deep blue tinted with reddish pink, and he noticed Friday turn some lighting on to compensate for the fading daylight.
"I like white."
Peter nodded distractedly.
"But I can't go around flying in white; people might think I'm an angel."
Peter sputtered, his whole face turned up as he laughed. Tony couldn't help but catch on when Peter laughed.
When they'd finally calmed down, Peter only a little worried he'd launch into an asthma attack, Tony set his hands on his legs. "I'm going to make dinner; you wanna help me?"
"I thought the cook was going to do that."
Tony shoved his shoulder as he got to his feet, offering a hand to Peter that he took. Once he was standing at his side, they made their way to the kitchen. "Give us some light, please, Fri."
The room lit up, and Tony turned to him. "You good with pasta?"
Who wasn't good with pasta? "Oh yeah."
—
That night found the two of them on the couch, trying to decide on a movie.
The pasta was delicious, and Tony had chided Peter for having little faith in his cooking abilities. "I'm half Italian; I have to be good at making pasta."
Peter had given him a look. "No offense, but I don't think you can mess pasta up."
Tony had scoffed.
Now they were debating what movie suited their mood.
"How about National Treasure?"
He remembered. And he'd told him over an hour ago. As Friday played the movie on the TV and the opening credits rolled, Peter got the feeling that Tony genuinely cared about all the little things about him. All the details that made up who he was.
After the first movie ended, they were sucked in and decided to put the second one on. During the opening credits, Tony realized with horror that they hadn't had any snacks or treats, and he got up to pop popcorn and grab a couple pints of Ben and Jerry's.
It was one of the best nights of Peter's life.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten time with a father figure like Ben had been to him. And he and Tony got along so well. It seemed too good to be true...like the universe was letting him get closer and closer to him, only to steal him away when it would hurt Peter the most. Just like his parents. Just like Ben.
Later that night, after Tony had told him goodnight and Peter was sprawled out on his ridiculously comfortable bed in his new room, he seriously regretted eating the whole pint of Phish Food. He'd been too happy to notice what he was doing in the moment, and now he was paying the price. He decided it was the best stomach ache he'd ever had, though.
