close_to_the_ground | For Mr. Stark

"Hey Mr. Stark!" Peter calls as he bounds into the apartment. It's construction day and painting day. Or something. Whatever, Peter's in clothes he doesn't mind ruining (that is all of his clothes, honestly) and a pair of sneakers and comes bearing chocolate croissants freshly baked by Greta. He knows Mr. Stark will bitch about the carbs but Peter knows he'll like them. Tony works way too hard not to let himself have something good. Besides, Peter more than owes him. He's responsible for Tony having to ruin a two million dollar suit, having to have his Porsche's interior redone, having to replace all his bedding again and not to mention how much all that medical equipment has to cost.

Anyway, Peter also realizes that with all the drama about The Gardener, Peter's not sure if Tony is taking care of his own health things. Once he'd felt like himself again, Peter couldn't shake that worry. He's not like Peter, he's not just gonna bounce back. Tony doesn't have a Tony to take care of him. He's just got Peter.

"I brought you some food."

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From:

ahollowman

"I'm not sure those qualify," Tony said, peeking into the little bakery box. His cardiologist probably agreed, but he was taking one out of its tissue paper already anyway. "But that was ... thoughtful. Grab yourself something to drink from the fridge, put a hat on and get in here. And when I say something I mean Gatorade or water. Actual hydration, no Coke."

The second bedroom was starting to come into something resembling livability. The hardest work had been done, installing the plumbing and wiring into the new bathroom and closet. But there was still some tile to lay, some mirrors to install, and painting to do.

Tony pulled down the brim of his own hat before crunching across the drop cloth to pry open the paint can with a screwdriver.

"Wow. Someone open a window. That is ... heady. Oh my god, is your nose gonna fall off?"

From:

close_to_the_ground

"It's like, the actual least I can do considering you built me a room and like, saved my life again," Peter says, stuffing a croissant into his mouth as he tugs a hat on and skids into the room. He can't help but smile, even if means crumbs fall out because this is awesome. Mr. Stark is kind of awesome.

"I got it," he mumbles around the bread, unlatching one of the windows and super pleased he can just web out of this room. That'll be awesome. "This is amazing, Mr. Stark. Seriously, I don't even know how I could start to thank you for all this."

From:

ahollowman

"You don't need to."

Tony carefully set the paint can lid aside, wet side up, and poured in some conditioner before stirring with the provided wooden stick. He grabbed the hardware store bag next, filled with brushes and rollers and a bunch of other shit that he'd mostly impulse bought by the checkout.

"Because keeping you safe is actually my legal job pretty soon, which is horrifying, but also because it's my money, and I earned it, and I spend it on what I want to."

He tossed Peter an angular brush to start with, before taking the long roller for himself and dipping it in the paint can to soak it up for a few seconds.

From:

close_to_the_ground

Peter catches the brush without looking, still taking in the room that's easily twice the size of his room back home.

"Yeah, but, doesn't mean you shouldn't get thanked for it. I'd be dead like a thousand times over if you weren't looking out for me," he says, leaning out the window a little and testing how well his hands stick.

"Hey, so, is it okay for you to be breathing in these fumes? Like, do you feel okay?"

From:

ahollowman

"Jesus, I'm fine," he said through the food in his mouth. And he was, mostly. He ought to have bought some respirators for both of them, but he was reasonably sure one paint can worth of VOMs wasn't about to give him congestive heart failure, surgery or not.

"I'm starting over here, with the main walls. I already have everything frog taped off, so you hit the edges and corners with the angular brush. Please don't paint my floorboards. And you're right. You would absolutely be dead. But that's not all your fault, and there's a reason I ... used to work with a team."

He picked the roller up again and let it drain for a second before starting to apply in ling, v-shaped strokes.

From:

close_to_the_ground

"Yeah, but would you tell me if you weren't fine?" Peter points out, settling on the floor to start the bottom. He'll get on the ceiling to get the top when he's reasonably sure he won't drip paint all over the floor and get in trouble.

"Some of it my fault, though, and so I was thinking about maybe stopping for a while," he says, staring resolutely at the wall as he starts to paint, slowly and carefully at first. "I mean, I've now ruined your bedding three times, Mr. Stark. And this last time it cost you a two million dollar suit. And I don't even know what I'm doing wrong. So I think maybe I should stop until I figure it out."

From:

ahollowman

Tony's methodical brush sweeps slowed, and he wiped hid forehead with the back of a hand, smearing off the sweat and on the paint. He dropped the roller back in the paint bucket and leaned on it, staring at the back of Peter'e hatted head while he worked.

"Is that what you want? For real? Because it's okay to take a break. I've taken a break, like, four times. It's even okay if you quit, although it's ... not what I would necessarily succeed at. You don't owe anything to anyone."

And that was one of the differences between the two if them.

"But can you live with it? Because I remember a boy being very serious when he told me why he gets out of bed every morning back in Queens."

From:

close_to_the_ground

"Yeah, but that was before you ended up getting infected with bio-goo and having to rescue me and ruin your stuff and getting hurt yourself," Peter mutters, painting over a spot he didn't do quite right. "It was before you were gonna be the last parent I've got left," he admits, hazarding a look up at Tony's face.

"And I owe a lot of people a lot of things, actually. I know you say I don't, but I owe you a lot. Not in a bad way. More like in a I don't want to get you killed because I call you like once a week needing to be rescued. I don't want to be a burden."

From:

ahollowman

"Bio-goo," Tony repeater with a grimace. He readied his roller again and went back to work. The faster they git this done, the sooner he could turn on the apartment air filters and make the place less like a current construction zone.

"Peter. That stuff doesn't happen because of you. Shit happens to me because I put myself out there for shit to happen to. I've been ... who I am, for ten years now. Believe me. If there's one person who breaks most of my stuff, and needs rescuing, and gets me hurt, that person is me."

He turned over his shoulder and peered at Peter for a long time. The apartment was empty but for the two of them, and it was a weekend, so the building below was quieter than usual. Everything felt slow, and soft, or maybe it was the paint fumes.

"I remembered some stuff. Darrow made me remember some stuff, just the other night, before the Gardener." He wiped a blue splatter from his hand onto the bare white wall nearby before rolling over it. "I remembered some talks we had, the whole Toomes incident."

He met Peter's hazel eyes for once.

"I'm not worried about burdens. That's the-- the last thing that concerns me. God, I'm a narcissist, the only time I'm happy is when I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, personally. You could never be my burden. The only thing that terrifies me is that I'm going to screw this up worse than my dad did, and make you hate me."

From:

close_to_the_ground

"Oh shit," Peter breathes, setting down his brush and staring up at Tony. "You remember all that? Like, the ferry and all of...oh shit.

"Mr. Stark, you're adopting a teenager that isn't even family who breaks all your stuff. You spent a ton of money so I can get vaccines and you built me a suit and, and you made me snacks for my date. You're kind of crushing it. Why would I hate you?"

From:

ahollowman

Because I hate myself, probably, Tony didn't say. Because the only difference between me and Thanos is that I failed to protect anyone at all.

"Yeah, and by the way? You need to learn how to swim, no ifs ands or butts."

He sighed into the breeze coming in the window. Luckily, they were high enough to avoid bugs or pollen in the paint job.

"I'm just screwed up, kiddo. That's why I wanted better for you."

From:

close_to_the_ground

"That's okay," he says with a small shrug. "I mean, I don't want you to be unhappy but screwed up doesn't freak me out. I've had my dad die twice, my mom once and now I lost my other mom. And now I'm a mutant spider person on top of that."

He picks the brush back up and finishes a stripe on the bottom before he stands, kicking his shoes off so he doesnt get the ceiling dirty when he jumps.

"I think you're great."

From:

ahollowman

"I know you think I'm great. That's what terrifies me," Tony admitted, but he put down the roller for a second to look up at Peter on the ceiling. Like Jessica, he always seemed at home up there. In a way that made Tony feel graceless even on the ground.

He leaned his chin on the roller handle.

"I think you're amazing, you know. That thing you do that makes you, you. That's spectacular. You're not a mutant spider person. You've got that ability for a reason."

Though saying so felt a little like a betrayal to Wanda, and Tony felt a little sick about it. But their relationship was a different one. Tony hadn't felt any fear about Bruce, didn't feel creeped out by Peter. But Wanda had gotten into his head.

From:

close_to_the_ground

Peter grins as he crawls to the nearest corner and points at Tony with his free hand.

"See? Crushing it. You're good at this. You're good at being a dad. Man, Mr. Stark, where I grew up? Like, so many kids didn't even have dads and the ones that were around were assholes. I could hear them four floors down yelling at their kids, saying all kinds of stuff. Beating the crap out of 'em. You need to be nicer to yourself."

From:

ahollowman

Tony dropped his eyes, and went back to work. He knew he needed to be better at accepting a compliment, he'd used to never have a problem. But that felt like a once upon a time. Once upon a time, before Ultron.

His dad had been one of those dads. Always shouting, telling Tony what a disappointment he was when he payed any attention to his son at all. He'd never touched Tony, but he'd never needed to. He'd gotten his point across.

"I don't know that I would be if the situation was a little different, but please keep stroking my ego. And make sure you move in circles when you do the ceiling to avoid streaks."

From:

close_to_the_ground

"Won't it just make streaky circles?" Peter wonders, trying a circle and then frowning because that sure as hell doesn't look right.

He flips back down to the ground to reload his brush.

"So, do you have any idea on when we'll know if they're gonna let you have me? It'd be pretty shitty if you did all this and then you're stuck with an empty room and no office."

It's kind of all Peter can think about when he's not worrying about Tony's health, Beverly and patrol. He just wishes he knew, either way.

From:

ahollowman

"It's fine. Trust me. It's what the website said to do, so we're doing it. And if you end up with circle streaks on your ceiling I hereby declare it not my problem, so."

Tony shrugged in exactly the most enraging way he knew.

"Doing all this, it looks good on my not-really-a-resume. Doing it by hand looks even better. It shows them I'm seriously committed and willing to put time aside for you. Which is something I needed to prove, of course, because I'm Tony Stark. Which seems unfair because when you have your own kid they just sort of let you keep it but whatever."

And wasn't that the real kick in the nuts.

"They said they have to make a decision by August 8th." He sighed and stared at the one white wall left.

"I want you to know I want this. I wasn't ready before. I wasn't ready after the ferry. But I'm ready now, I want this."

From:

close_to_the_ground

"Yeah, yeah I want this, too," Peter breathes, fiddling with his brush as he takes that in. He kind of hates how much he needs that reassurance but maybe it's an orphan thing. Maybe Mr. Stark gets that.

"I know I'm not supposed to care about that kind of thing, being a teenager. I know it's weird. But maybe those kids who don't care have parents. It's a really bad feeling to think no one wants you. Or like the ones that do keep leaving. Good thing we've got each other."

From:

ahollowman

"Oh my god. Good thing we've got each other? That's -- you're making me regret it. You're making me regret it, Parker."

Tony gave a melodramatic eyeroll before putting roller to wall again, pressing the paint into the wall to grab that delicious even coverage. Painting, as it turned out, was a productive hobby, and something he didn't hate doing.

"Ugh, I'm gonna puke. Anyway, you've got people. Make sure they know you care. There's Jess and Bev right? Don't mess it up with them. Don't leave them for dead in Siberia or something."

From:

close_to_the_ground

Peter rolls his eyes and flicks paint at Tony's arm, jumping and sticking back to the ceiling.

"I take it back. All of it. You're the worst. And just so you know, I'm taking Beverly on a picnic tomorrow. Gonna make sandwiches or something and show her some stuff, now that she knows about the Spider thing," he mutters, making circles as instructed.

"You should have friends over too, you know. We could have a barbecue or something and invite your people. Like Karen and Wanda and Gwen and whoever."

From:

ahollowman

"A picnic, really? What is this, date number three? Third date, third base."

Tony allowed himself an indulgent giggle, because there was absolutely no way Peter had gotten anywhere near that far yet except with himself in the privacy of his bedroom.

"Barbecue, yeah, that's, I don't know. I don't remember Whatever, though. Which one was she? She cute?"

Tony sobered up.

"Wanda and I. Maybe not right now. We need some time to cool down."

From:

close_to_the_ground

Peter glares as effectively as he can while upside down, ignoring that because Tony is very aware that Peter is still trotting to first

"I met Karen at Pride. She was nice, said she knew you. And wait, why can't we have Wanda over? I just saw her the other week and she was nice to me. Why are you fighting? Is it the floating prison thing?"

From:

ahollowman

"Karen is very nice," Tony agreed, because that was an evident and easy truth.

The rest was far more difficult.

"No. Actually. We were fighting about you. Sort of. Really about other things, but you were the current excuse, I think."

Tony breathed in very slowly, let it out as a sigh.

"Listen, Pete. We need to talk about the Avengers."

From:

close_to_the_ground

"Me?" Peter wonders, dropping back down to the floor because this sounds bad.

"Shit, is she mad at me? She said, she said we were cool or is it because I'm moving in? Why would she care either way and, and I'm not even an Avenger. Is it because I was on your side in Germany?"

Oh crap, Peter thought they were cool. Wanda and Tony have both been here for a long time so Peter must have done something to make it bad, again.

From:

ahollowman

"Hey. Hey. This isn't your fault." Tony wrapped his hands around Peter's shoulders. God, how were they going to clean all this paint? "It's not even about you."

"I had my reasons for signing the Accords. And I don't ... regret signing them. But I was wrong, a kind of wrong I can only see in hindsight."

Ross was a manipulative douchebag. They should have argued for a third option. They still had leverage then, they still had just enough leverage.

"But when I told you about Cap, when I said he was wrong, and he thought he was right, and that made him dangerous? That was true too. Both things can be true. But Pete, I did some things that week I'm not proud of. I hurt Wanda in a lot of ways, and seeing me, trying to be legally responsible for you, that drags up at least forty percent of those hurts for her."