Glitter & Gold

Stark Genes Remain Supreme:

Tony groaned as he began to wake up.

God, did he overwork himself again?

Once the blurriness began to clear from his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar room.

How did he get here? 

The last thing he could remember was working on a project with his kid.

His kid.

Peter.

Tony quickly got to his feet to look for him.

"Peter!" he called out, cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice.

"Mr Stark," a familiar voice called back.

Tony jogged to the sound of the source when he realized that Peter was nearby.

"Mr Stark!" Peter greeted as he barrelled into his mentor and proceeded to ramble.

"We were working on our project for the suit but then we fell asleep. Was it night-time? I didn't know it was nighttime. I was just happy to be finishing the project. But Aunt May will be really worried if I'm not home. And if I don't sleep. I didn't even know I was tired. Now because of my abilities, I'm more alert and I don't need as much sleep as I needed before. Is this a sign of advancement? Am I becoming more advanced, Mr Stark? What if I'm becoming more spider than a man? Mr Stark, I don't want to eat you!"

Tony was cut off from comforting the kid when he heard a familiar voice call him from behind, "Tony? Oh, thank god."

The pair hugged, glad the other was safe.

"Hi Mr Rhodes sir," Peter greeted cheerfully, once they broke apart.

Tony smiled at Rhodey who was standing on his prosthetic legs.

He subtlety glanced at them to see if they needed any upgrades or he could add the nanotech to the legs to give them an extra boost or he could even-

"Let's find out," Rhodey said making him snap out of his thought track.

The trio began to walk forward but a voice called out-

"Mechanic!"

Tony jumps, noting out of the corner of his eye that even Peter startles, and he tries not to let it get to his head that the teen feels so comfortable with him now as to forget about his spidey sense. 

Then, he shifts and turns to the voice, grinning ear to ear when he spots the fluffy mess on top of Keener's head as the boy – young man now holy fuck ­– who makes a beeline for Tony.

"Kid!" Tony greets, opening his arms and sending a quick prayer of thanks to the Extremis coursing through his veins when Harley launches himself at him, clearly trying to bring them both down, because ten or sixteen, the kid's a little asshole.

Luckily, Tony manages to catch him and stay on his feet, spinning in a little celebratory circle with Keener in his arms to work off the momentum. 

Harley burrows into the hug, arms around Tony's shoulders, face pressed into his neck, and Tony buries his face in Harley's hair, presses a kiss to his hairline, and loosens his arms, his heart lighter.

When he sets Harley down, he does a doubletake at the fact that there is less than an inch difference between him and the kid now, instead of the ten-year-old-sized pipsqueak he remembers.

"Had ourselves a growth spurt, have we?" he teases, reaching up – and, wow, isn't that a mindfuck and a half? – to tousle Harley's already messy hair, shooting the kid a grin.