Irondad & Spiderson Oneshots

A Night Off

Something's been bothering Peter, and he has a rough patrol. Tony's available for a ride home and a heart-to-heart.

(This takes place in that lovely open space between Homecoming and Infinity War, I'd say February after Homecoming.

Read as you see fit here- I'd classify this as very light, but there's a mention of death and general hurt/comfort vibes. Hope you're all well and that you enjoy <3)

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On an otherwise lonely Wednesday night in February, Tony gets a call.

He was actually looking forward to this Wednesday night. It's the only chunk of time he's had to himself in what feels like months—he even had Pepper block it out on his calendar. ( Time to Do Absolutely Nothing and Get Nine Hours of Sleep was her label of choice.) (She's created a new self-care initiative within SI, and Tony regrets signing off on it every time he gets an email that personally calls out his bad habits.)

In the spirit of giving his spinning mind time to slow, he grabbed food and sat on his couch and picked a television show. He felt like a borderline normal human, at least during the ten minutes preluding Peter's contact icon appearing on his screen.

He swallows his bite of pasta and answers it. "Hello?"

"Hi."

It's certainly Peter. Not much else to go off of. "Everything okay, kid?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, just..."

Tony shovels as much pasta as he can into his mouth and then leaves the bowl on the couch. Out of the living room, in through the kitchen. Standard procedure when Peter's deflecting like this.

"Wanna tell me what's actually wrong?" he asks into his cell, trying to sound gentle. (He doesn't really do gentle. It usually translates into I'm scared as hell and taking it out on you with sarcasm. But he's getting there.)

"I'm on a patrol—I don't think I landed right," Peter replies. "It hurts to walk."

Out of the kitchen and down the staircase. "I could... Do you want me to pick you up?"

Tony's hesitant, yes—they've only been at this for a few months. Their partnership is certainly stronger than it's ever been, but memories of the Ferry and the Vulture and basically everything else are also grandfathered into it.

Tony doesn't want to make Peter uncomfortable. God forbid he push the boy away with too much helicoptering. But he also doesn't want Peter to decline the offer, to say no. Getting rejected would hurt Tony's feelings, which is the truth, as pathetic as it sounds. Last he checked, he didn't have feelings, especially when it came to wild and rampant teenagers who make him feel like a walking dad joke. Too late to put a stop to it, though.

Best to just ask. After all, after everything: Tony wants to help. It's the one thing he knows for sure, has always known for sure. Right now, he wants to help even more than he wants a night to himself, which is saying something.

He's so lost in thought that he zones back in to the sound of Peter's voice relaying his location. Tony hurries through a door and heads to the garage. This is happening, and he's not going to screw it up.

The drive goes by quickly, considering that Peter's gotten better at staying within the area on patrol. (May still worries that he goes too far, but there's no longer any overnight inter-state traveling, which is a win in Tony's book.) After hunting for a parking spot like a vulture in an Audi, Tony pulls his car to the side of the road on the street name Peter gave him.

Much to his relief, he's spared from getting out of the car and into the dark when a spandex-y red fist knocks on the shotgun window. Tony unlocks the door, and Peter pulls himself in.