The Bet (Avenger's High School AU)

♡ Chapter Six ♡

Getting Peter into Tony's bed was easy.

Convincing him to sleep was the hard part.

"I'm serious, Peter," Tony says, pulling the blankets up to the other teenager's chin once again. He's already set up another mattress with pillows and blankets on the floor beside his bed for himself, but Peter's still drunk so he's not tired. "The faster you sleep, the faster you can get sober."

"Not tired," Peter huffs, shoving the blankets off his chest with a childish pout.

"You've been constantly getting drunk lately, Peter. I know you're trying to fit in and everything, but this isn't the way to do that. And that's coming from me of all people," Tony says, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Peter tilts his head, curls splaying out across the pillowcase with a lopsided grin.

"Hungry," he decides, not making any move to get out of the bed but staring at Tony with an expectant look. "I'm hungry."

"You're just going to throw up if you try to eat anything," Tony says. Nobody's ever cared like this for him while he's been drunk, but he figures Peter deserves it. He rolls his eyes and brushes Peter's curls back from his forehead. "C'mon, I'll make you something. Nat should be out of the shower by now so she can watch you while I cook."

Peter sits up, pouting like a child would. "I don't need to be watched."

Rolling his eyes again, Tony grabs Peter's hand and pulls him up to his feet. "If you didn't need to be watched, you'd be home and in your own bed."

"'M fine," Peter huffs. "... Can go home if I want to."

"I would not let you get in a car when you're this drunk. Come on, I'll make you a grilled cheese or something. If you throw up, you get to clean it up. My father would murder me if he was here tonight," Tony says, rolling his eyes once more as he leads Peter to the immaculately clean kitchen. Neither of his parents are around for dinner most of the time and if they are, they don't cook much. They normally get those high-class premade dinners from the grocery stores because they don't have the time to cook let alone spend time with their son. Tony normally lives off snacks and take-out because he doesn't have anyone to teach him how to cook.

Peter grins happily, hopping up onto the counter gracelessly. He kicks his feet childishly, smiling at Tony like there's nothing bad in the world. The only thing that takes away from his bright-eyed beauty are the bruises and cuts that litter his pale skin.

"Food?" Nat asks, wandering into the room. She's wearing a pair of Tony's grey sweatpants and one of Tony's black brand hoodies. Her hair is tied up in a towel, one red strand curling down the side of her face.

"Yeah, Peter said he was hungry. Grilled cheese? The only other thing I know how to make is pasta, but it's almost one in the morning," Tony says, ruffling through his fridge to find the cheese.

"Sounds good. I'm going to go call my grandmother and let her know I won't be home tonight," she replies, having already lost the drunk edge she had before. She just looks tired now.

"If you need a phone, my cell is on my desk in my room," Tony says, waving down the hall with his free hand as he successfully finds some cheese. "I'll let you know when food's ready."

Natasha doesn't reply, heading down the hall to Tony's room.

Tony puts a pan on the stove, turning on the heat and grabbing the loaf of bread to start cooking. Peter steals the shredded cheese and starts nibbling on some of it absent-mindedly. He looks happier with the alcohol running through his system and clouding his brain, Tony realizes with a frown. The dark circles under his classmate's eyes are less prominent, cheeks rosy with the tequila, bright smile making the worry lines disappear into his skin.