Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

Come back don't leave me (I still need you)

Summary: aslihan n turgut inspired poison scene gala thing ma bob + someone also requested this but i changed it up a lil bit so i hope u dont mind 
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To say that Peter “Parker” Stark was excited was an understatement. The boy was practically giddy with joy as he followed his dad outside Happy’s limousine and into the city building for what would be the teenager’s first ever gala ever. 

It took Tony some convincing to let him go, as the father knew what happened at these galas and didn’t the most important person in his life to get hurt somehow, but after days of constant pleading, puppy-eyes and a pinky promise to do whatever the older man had said and would stay safe made Tony budge his opinion. 

So there they were, exitting out of the car while his dad spoke lowly cause, well, paparazzi. “Alright kiddo,” he said while putting a hand on his son’s shoulder with a fatherly grin, “This is it.”

Peter beamed as the father and son duo entered the ballroom with tons of people dressed in expensive clothes and jewerly while soft classical music played in the background. “Woah,” said Peter, all of this was so surreal. He wasn’t overly interested in galas, but the fifteen year old did want to see what they were all about. Plus, he’d rather much be with his dad than all alone at the Tower. 

Tony turned to face Peter, “Alright, here’s the deal. You stay with me unless I say otherwise.”

Peter tilted his head, “Otherwise?”

Tony winced through his aviator sunglasses despite being indoors, “I do not need the sharks to look at you like how they look at me. All business,” he made a pun, “They smell one whiff of blood and the next thing you know they’re all on top of you.” Tony also added as he playfully bumped shoulders with Peter, “And they hate how successful we are.”

Peter chuckled, “Of course they do.”

Tony nodded, “Remember the rules?”

Peter nodded, “Yep. No alcohol, obviously but we have to reinforce that. No talking to strangers because that could backfire on us five to ten years later when they come for vengeance. Don’t trust what anyone says besides the people you know. Stay with Dad at all times unless sharkface.”

Tony smirked at Peter’s nickname. “I’d mess with your hair, but seeing it all gelled up like that…”

Peter rolled his eyes, “I hate this gel. You know that. Please do it.”

Tony laughed as he led the pair, “You wish, c’mon.” 

. . .

Currently, Peter “Parker” Stark was seated on a barstool in a crisp tuxedo and slightly gelled hair while humming along to the tune that was playing from somewhere within the gala. His father was about six feet away facing him while he dealt with the so-called “sharks”. 

Peter was glad that he didn’t have to sit with his father, nor did he have any clue how Tony had the patience and will to deal with them. They all looked like literal sharks, with tight pinchy faces and gaudy jewerly that was overkill with either long fancy dresses, or ones that were skimpy making Peter advert his eyes to the ballroom floor. 

Not to mention the way they looked at his father and himself when they walked by them, as if they wanted to tear them apart. 

Peter wondered while flashing his dad a thumbs-up cause it looked like he could really use one, what’s their beef? First they hate us, now they’re trying to get all close with us. Like that song, funny how bitches turn into my fans. Heh.