IronDad & Spiderson ~And Stuff~

Slapped pt 2

Peter had always been clingy.

It had escalated as he and Tony got closer. At first, it presented as unnecessary shoulder brushes and the tendency to fall into his side as the pair walked pretty much anywhere.

Now, Tony had grown used to the kid hanging all over him at pretty much every available opportunity.He pretended to hate it, but it satisfied some deep, instinctual need for pure human proximity that he didn’t get anywhere else.

Sure, he got intimacy from Pepper.

But there was something different about closeness with a human being that had zero romantic or sexual conditions. The simplicity of seeking human contact for no other reason than to seek human contact.

Of course, these are the things he would never admit out loud.

Hell, it was hard enough to admit them to himself.

The clinginess always escalated whenever the kid was stressed or sad. It was just a fact. Whenever he knew that Peter was having a rough time, he sort of accepted the concept that he’d have his very own human octopus attached to his hip until his skies got sunnier.

And, obviously, being slapped by someone in a room full of strangers was going to do a number on pretty much anyone’s mood. So after Tony cocooned Peter back up in the penthouse with a movie and a cup of hot chocolate, he was completely unsurprised that it took Peter all of two minutes to crawl on top of him.

Hell, he’d even sat twisted in a way that invited the gesture.

(And, yeah, he was still pretty shaken up over the whole thing. So, it wasn’t too unwelcome to have a constant, teenager-sized reminder that everything turned out okay.)

He threaded his fingers through Peter’s curls, finding the exact rhythm and path that the kid liked on muscle memory alone. Every once in a while, he’d hit a snag and work at the spot gently until it came undone. He let himself get lost in the pattern. Card, snag, untangle. Card, snag, untangle. Card, snag, untangle.

It was how Tony greeted him, with a brief but affectionate ruffle at the crown of his head. It was how Tony reassured him, brushing his fingertips against the hair that grew at the nape of his neck. It was how Tony got him to fall back asleep after a nightmare, brushing steady circles through his curls until the panic faded into a distant memory.

He wondered, every once in a while, if the kid knew just how receptive he was to the action. He doubted it.

Sure enough, it only took a few minutes of Tony’s gentle rhythm for Peter to melt against his chest. The movie droned on uselessly in the background. Neither of them were paying it much mind, but it did give the room a nice blanket of white noise.

“Hey,” Tony whispered once the kid seemed totally settled, “I’m not mad at you, y’know.”

“I know.”

“Good.” He floundered. Something he’d learned rather quickly with Peter was that the want, the need, to comfort didn’t necessarily mean you actually had the skills to do so. He had the parental instincts down, but he was still working on the parental guidance bit. “I just, uh, wanted to touch base with you there.”

Peter laughed, low and lazy. “Consider the base touched.”

“I hope you aren’t making an innuendo.”

“I wasn’t.” Tony smoothed a hand down the back of Peter’s neck, and the kid’s fingers uncurled from his mentor’s shirt as even more tension leaked out of his shoulders. “Are you?”

“Absolutely not. I’m a responsible adult.”

“Sure.”

“That sounded like sarcasm.”

“Don’t know what that even is, Mister Stark.” Peter settled his cheek more firmly against Tony’s chest. “Never used it before in m’ life.”

He rolled his eyes, keeping his voice quiet so as not to startle the half-conscious teenager sprawled on top of him. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Put the lights on Night Mode, please.”

The room going dark was the only response from the AI, and Tony was suddenly grateful that he’d made her advanced enough to assess situations.

“Goodnight, Peter.”

The kid just pushed a lazy hand against his mentor’s chest in acknowledgement, murmuring something unintelligible under his breath.

It didn’t matter. Tony got the message loud and clear.

It was about an hour later that Pepper strolled through the door, stopping suddenly, mid-step, as she realized exactly what she’d walked in on.

Tony gave her a little wave with the hand that wasn’t occupied with spiking Peter’s curls up off his forehead. She laughed, returning the gesture and slowly stepping out of the room. 

When she spoke, she kept her voice quiet enough that he could barely pick it up. “He okay?”

“Yeah.” He assumed Happy had told her about the disaster of a meeting. “You know... just a bad day.”

She nodded, turning to leave and then pivoting back for a final exchange. “You know, Tony, parenthood’s a good look on you. Not that I’m surprised.”

Tony had to forcefully remind himself not to jolt. “You’re not surprised?”

She just smiled. “Not at all.” Her gaze lingered on Peter’s face, eyes sparkling. “I always knew.”