Archive of Our Own ^beta

Peter wasn't freaking out, really. Yes, he was slightly fidgety, and his heartbeat somehow wouldn't slow down and his hands may or may not tremble and he might've felt like throwing up but he was not freaking out.

He just couldn't believe that he was stupid enough to fall asleep in Mr. Stark's lab like some tired baby.

It was embarrassing. So incredibly embarrassing. He was cringing whenever he thought about it and he only woke up, like, four hours ago. He still had two hours of physics and one hour of chemistry and he was not-

Alright, yeah, he was freaking out.

But who wouldn't? Seriously, he managed to fall asleep, and it wasn't the light type of sleep either, no, Mr. Stark had to poke him awake which was even more embarrassing and Peter could pull at his hair because damn it he screwed up so bad and Mr. Stark would probably never ever want to see him again.

He definitely felt like throwing up, a shaky hand clutched over his mouth, eyes anxiously shut

Peter just wanted to forget. 

Though, maybe he didn't really want to forget the things that happened yesterday after he snapped and honest to god screamed at Mr. Stark in his lab for, well, for doing the things he did.

Getting ignored for over three months? Not cool, man.

But maybe he also wanted to remember how speechless he was after Mr. Stark told him that he could help him in the lab if he came down from the ceiling.

He could swear his heart stopped beating and he didn't really answer for at least five minutes, his brain deciding to shut down, not wanting to reboot because Anthony Edward Stark, his hero, asked him if he, Peter Benjamin Parker, a weird teen, wanted to help him in his awesome lab.

His mouth got dry because he accidently forgot to close it, his face blank, eyes opened wide in shock.

No offense, kid, but crawling on my ceiling? Little weird. 

He may or may not have accidently let go, falling face first and hitting the ground with a loud smack like an idiot.

Ok, that was definitely one thing he didn't want to remember.

To be honest, he was scared at first. The teen firmly believed that Mr. Stark wanted to test his knowledge, wanted to see whether he was worth his time or not, so he immediately got into exam mode after his brain decided to function again.

You know anything about old cars, kid? 

And he panicked. Yes, he wasn't exactly stupid, and he had basic knowledge when it came to vehicles, but he was born in 2002, he didn't know crap about old cars.

Surprisingly, Mr. Stark only smiled when he hesitantly shook his head, his heart nearly beating out of his chest, thinking that he already screwed up.

And how could he ever forget how content he was as he sat on the floor, handing Mr. Stark the tools he asked for, wrenches and screwdrivers and harmless stuff like that whilst said man lay under a rather ugly old car. It was moldy and gross in general and Peter swore it smelled like fish but he didn't really mind, happy that he could be of assistance.

It took a while for his nerves to cool down, for his stutter to nearly vanish whenever his mentor tricked him into saying something but he managed eventually, feeling more at ease around the billionaire and superhero by the second and Mr. Stark seemed to notice that, slowly starting to explain what he was doing to fix the car.

Peter focused on every single word, absorbing the information like a sponge, not believing how domestic their little lab session felt. He didn't dare to ask any questions at first, afraid that he might break the comfortable bubble surrounding them.

Though once he accidently did, Mr. Stark didn't seem to mind, not only answering his questions but rather urging him on to ask more.

Which he did, of course he did, he has always been an incredibly curious child, wanting to know everything, how the world they lived in worked. His teachers in middle school were overwhelmed by his need to learn beyond the standard, often not knowing the answer themselves which was why he got into Midtown High.

He sometimes couldn't wrap his head around how he managed to get a scolarship.

Peter could still hear the panicked beeping of DUM-E as he managed to knock something over again, followed by U's mad chirping, the teen laughing at how Mr. Stark threatened the clumsy bot whilst U got more and more frustrated, trying to keep the lab organised like his creator told him to.

DUM-E, I swear I'll turn you into a lamp, you useless piece of moving metal! 

Pure delight filled his body back then, making him smile in happiness, his heart swelling at the weird scenario that felt so damn normal.

It was FRIDAY who chimed in after some amount of time, recommending the pair to take a break, reminding them that they did need food like normal human beings, even though they might've forgotten about that unimportant little detail. The teen still couldn't fathom how the AI was brave enough to sass Tony Stark.

That thought quickly vanished as they got their pizza, Mr. Stark sitting on the floor across from him, leaning against the old car. It was a weird sight, the billionaire's white dress shirt was stained with black and oily patches, heavily wrinkled, hair messed up and sticking into every direction, the suit jacket and tie long gone, thrown over one of the chairs. 

So, as they both ate their slices of heaven, Peter looking at his mentor in such a disheveled and somewhat unguarded state, he felt how his delight turned into hope.

It was followed by dread and anxiety, a million questions burning on his tongue which had nothing to do with how to bring an old timer back to life.

What was going on? What were they actually doing? What was Peter supposed to be expecting after this?

And, most importanty,

Did Mr. Stark even care?

It was like a punch in the face, realising that he somehow got used to the thought that this, whatever it was, was normal, because didn't it mean something that one of the richest and most famous men in the world sat in front of him in greasy clothes, eating cheap pizza from a box? Didn't it mean something that he wasn't wearing his glasses, that he was looking directly into Peter's eyes more and more often, something the teen knew the genious avoided at all costs?

Didn't it mean something that Mr. Stark seemed to be totally fine, if not even content, that Peter was around?

He didn't know, but he hoped, he hoped it so damn much that he could already feel his heart breaking again if he was wrong because he couldn't deal with being ignored again. Not after this.

They got to work, then, Peter trying to ignore his slight panic, glad that Mr. Stark was back under that car so he couldn't see his pained face.

The teen's thoughts were all over the place, his brain not wanting to keep quiet, giving him one worst case scenario after the other until he was mentally exhausted.

His eyelids started to stay closed for a little longer as the minutes went by, Peter jerking slightly whenever he opened them again, New York's lights making his brown orbs shine in awe, momentarily forgetting his worries as he let them roam over the beautiful skyline, his heart beating excitedly in his chest because holy smoke that view was so awesome.

Peter didn't want to appear tired, not wanting to give Mr. Stark a reason to kick him out. He didn't care whether his aunt would scold him for coming home way after curfew, he just needed five more minutes, please, because he somehow feared that that moment was a one-time thing and he wasn't ready to go home.

He wasn't ready to leave the bots behind, wasn't ready to never hear FRIDAY's nice irish accent, wasn't ready to never see Mr. Stark's incredible lab again, and he sure as hell wasn't ready to feel abandoned by the man he thought could play a bigger role in his life.

Of course, he couldn't keep his eyes open for long, and the next thing he knew was that Mr. Stark was in front of him, softly but awkwardly poking his cheek, a hint of a tired smile on the man's dirty face.

Come on, kid, I'll drive you home. 

It was a blurr after that, he was way too tired to remember much, but he was pretty sure that he was childish enough to plead for five more minutes like a baby.

He was also horrified that he barely remembered the drive to Queens, his memories working in small sniplets only.

And he really didn't want to know whether he was lucid enough to buckle himself up or not.

Probably not.

Was dying from embarrassment a thing because he was certain he felt like doing just that.

But that wasn't the only reason why his hands wouldn't stop shaking or why his heart wouldn't slow down or why he felt so uncomfortable the whole day.

What if Mr. Stark would ignore him again?

Sure, tinkering in the lab together was fun and Peter did have the feeling that the atmosphere was great and that his mentor had somewhat enjoyed it, too, but what if?

Maybe the billionaire has only offered him to help him with the car because he felt bad for him? Mr. Stark probably didn't want to send him back home after Peter came all the way to the Tower so he wouldn't feel guilty. Surely he didn't want Peter's company?

He only was a weird teen, after all, nothing special.

"Parker? Are you going to pay any attention today or do I bore you?

"No, Mrs. Davis, of course not, I'm sorry."

Concentrate, he needed to concentrate, and Ned's suspicious glances weren't really helping. His best friend knew that something was up and he probably wouldn't let Peter get away without an explanation.

How did he collect this enormous amount of bad karma over the course of his relatively short life?

Parker luck.

Chemistry was a relief, Peter immediately starting on some new web fluid formula he had wanted to try out for weeks already, never being fast enough to get the very last row for making anything else than his usual webs, until now.

He couldn't afford his hands to shake any longer, forcing himself to just forget about everything, even if only for a few minutes, not wanting to accidently blow up his school.

Being kicked out of Midtown wasn't his goal.

Though, could they actually kick him out of school if there technically was no school?

The vigilante barely finished mixing his webbing together before the bell rang, not knowing whether the formula was a fail or not, the white liquid disappearing in his bag which he flung over his shoulder, waiting for Ned to get his stuff together.

The weekend was just what he needed. Peter couldn't wait to spend most of his time in his suit, fighting criminals and helping people, jumping from skyscrapers just for fun in his freetime.

He could never live without the feeling of the air hitting his face whenever he was midair, just about to shoot a web.

Maybe he could test the waters with Mr. Stark after a few days, if he was brave enough to do so.

God, he already felt his heart aching in his chest, readying itself for more pain.

Quickly hugging Ned goodbye, the teen sprinted down the stairs, only to stop midway through as he saw a somewhat familiar colour, his shoes squeeking at his sudden halt.

That colour being surrounded by awestruck people.

Orange. Audi R8.

No way.

"Hey, kid!"

No fucking way.

Peter gripped his backpack like it was his lifeline, the earlier need to throw up overcoming him again, a sudden dizzyness nearly making him stumble.

He was so going to faint.

That couldn't happen. Mr. Stark couldn't just park right in front of his school, nay, right in front of the main entrance of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

"Mr- Mr. Stark? What-", he couldn't finish his sentence, realising that his whole school was watching them, or rather looking at Mr. Stark in awe.

"Wha- what are you do doing here?"

"I'm picking you up."

To say that Peter was shocked was definitely putting it mildly, his mentor’s shit eating grin making him furrow his eyebrows. Was there a mission? Did he need Spider-Man? 

"But, why?"

He did kinda sound rude in retrospect, but he was speechless and in denial because Mr. Stark wouldn't pick him up from school just like that. There needed to be a reason, some kind of threat to NYC, or an evil organisation of some sort or, or-

Maybe Flash managed to knock him out after chemistry, and he was hallucinating, making up a weird and surreal scenario?

Yeah, that was probably it. Something felt way too off for it to be real.

"Why, isn't this what normal people do?"

It was only then that Peter realised what made him think that he was probably making it all up.

There was no suit, no expensive watch, not even the sunglasses looked as high quality as they usually were. Instead, Mr. Stark was wearing a simple white t-shirt paired with some faded blue jeans and boots, looking like he came straight from the lab after pulling an all-nighter.

"Come on, kiddo, I thought we could, you know, tinker a bit and I can show you the whole thing, how to use FRIDAY and the holo-screens and your own worktable. Oh, and Aunt May said we should grab a burger or something."

Peter didn't know whether to be over the moon that Mr. Stark was suddenly taking his job as a mentor seriously or worried that he was insane.

He was slightly overwhelmed.

„But- but, Mr. Stark, don't you have, like, other stuff to do? I mean, uhm, something more important?"

His eyes widened as the billionaire pulled off his shades, looking the teen straight in the eye, the intensity of his stare making Peter fidget with the hem of his hoodie. 

If you cared you'd actually be here. 

„Yeah, probably- "

Oh. Right.

Saying that his heart leapt to his throat whilst the feeling of utter disappointment punched him in the face, followed by the sharp pain of his naive hope being crushed again was, well, rather accurate.

" -but I don't care. So, get moving, kid."

Peter couldn't help but stare, his whole body refusing to move for a few seconds before Mr. Stark's raised eyebrows caused him to frantically nod, desperately trying to keep himself from running down the stairs like a toddler, awkwardly stumbling over his own feet in the process.

His brain didn't really catch up yet, but the discomfort he felt the whole day disappeared in the blink of an eye, his frown making way for a huge smile as Mr. Stark motioned for him to jog around to the other side of the vehicle, Midtown High watching the billionaire's every move.

Mr. Stark was picking him up.

From school. 

He actually had to force himself from squealing in delight as the R8's engine roared to life by itself, the teen standing there, an awestruck expression on his face, not daring to actually touch the car in case he broke something because that thing was awesome.

"For the love of Jarvis, don't drool, Parker."

Peter didn't know that his skin had the ability to make him look like Mr. Crabs, the teen feeling his cheeks heating up as he sat into the passenger seat, trying not to geek out as he saw the incredibly modern interior of the car.

The vigilante was practically bouncing in his seat, eyes widened in wonder as he took everything in, quietly freaking out as Mr. Stark hit the accelerator, both of them getting pushed into their seats because of the sudden speed.

It was no surprise that it only took his tongue a few seconds to collect itself, thousands of questions about the vehicle rolling off of it without him blinking or thinking about it.

Mr. Stark didn't really seem to mind, not telling him to shut up, rather patiently answering his questions without complaining. Peter thought he would burst, his body not able to contain his excitement.

The teen loved fast cars, hell, he loved being fast in general, and he really couldn't help the laugh as they rounded a corner with squeaking tires.

"Jeez, kid, how old are you supposed to be again?"

But Peter saw how the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

To say that young vigilante was speechless as they drove into the Tower was an understatement; he was fairly sure his mouth was hanging open and his eyeballs nearly popped out of his skull in astonishment as they entered the garage which was filled with at least two dozen cars, every single one of them reading STARK on their license plate.

He really had to pull himself together so he wouldn't, yes, drool over those vehicles.

All the pain and dread and confusion from earlier was already long forgotten, his urge to vomit gone, pure excitement taking over his entire being.

Peter felt light and happy and giddy and he couldn't help but jump up and down next to his mentor, showering him in another thousand questions about his cars and the garage and the whole architecture of the Tower, his hyped chatter filling the otherwise cold elevator.

He didn't see Mr. Stark's soft smile.

„FRIDAY? You know what to do," the billionaire said in typical Tony Stark fashion, looking at Peter with a smug smirk as soon as the doors openend to darkness.

Seeing the lab come to life was just as breathtaking as the first time, if not even a noch more dramatic. The holographic screens turned on immediately, glowing in the dark as they were the only source of light in the otherwise dark place, Peter's face being illuminated as his mentor's projects and sketches appeared; the windows were getting clear at the same time, sunlight flooding the room, causing the arachnid to squint his eyes.

Peter just stood there, his backpack held in his hand, mouth agape, listening as Mr. Stark descended the three steps into the lab, already giving his AI certain commands, looking like somebody who's found his home.

He couldn't believe he was a part of that moment, couldn't believe that his mentor stopped in his tracks in the middle of his lab, a holo-sketch spinning in his palm, looking at Peter with a grin.

Mr. Stark was a big show-off and he knew it, especially after seeing his mentee's flabbergasted expression.

"FRIDAY? Let's show this squirt how it's done."

Peter was in heaven. Mr. Stark showed him the whole workshop, yes, kid, it's my workshop, lab sounds too sterile, tried to make him familiar with his holo-technology, though Peter struggled a bit with that part, constantly feeling like he had to balance the holographic images on his palm, thus resulting in rather funny gestures which made his mentor roll his eyes and dramatically massage his temples.

His worktable was amazing; he already knew that the genious got him everything he needed for webs and shooters, but he also made sure that all his basic formulas were already at hand, making it a lot easier for the teen.

Working with FRIDAY was an entirely different thing. It was the real deal, like, Peter knew how intelligent she was, being Mr. Stark’s AI after all, but her actively helping him with his work, listing off a million different web formula combinations? It made his heart skip a beat.

"So, you like it?" Mr. Stark asked as he caught the teen's ecstatic gaze, Peter jerkily nodding whilst standing at his work table, his eyes roaming over the clean surface whilst his mentor pat his shoulder.

"Just don't blow anything up, kiddo."

Huh, well, seems like he would have to try not to.

"Alright, uhm, Fri?" he tentatively asked whilst rummaging around in his backpack, putting the fluid he made in chemistry earlier on the table.

"Yes, Peter?"

"So, you can, you know, scan this and, well- "

He didn't have to finish his sentence, FRIDAY already displaying the new web fluid's contents and their chemical composition

"Miss, you are awesome!"

He heard an exasperated sigh from the other side of the workshop.

"She's already full of herself, Parker, no need to boost her ego."

"Boss, may I call to your attention that you're currently sitting in a puddle of motor oil?"

"Oh, for fucks- DUM-E! Stop that!"

Peter couldn't help but laugh as he immediately sprinted over, just in time to see the bot sneakily emptying a canister full of the black liquid, beeping hysterically as Mr. Stark ripped it out of his claws, his jeans drenched.

"You are so not allowed to help me today, you dunce!"

DUM-E's sad chirping broke the teen's heart, not wanting the clumsy but incredibly adorable bot to feel bad.

"Hey, Dumdum, you can come over and help me instead."

He gladly took the risk that he really might blow something up just for the bot to stop making those soul crushing sounds.

He didn't expect the suddenly excited and seemingly happy DUM-E to nearly run him over as he giddily opened and closed his claws, beeping in delight as Peter affectionately pat his head.

Mr. Stark crossed his arms whilst dramatically rolling his eyes. "Whatever mess you dunderheads make over there; I'm not cleaning it up and neither is U."

Said bot made one annoyed beep before resuming his task, which was organising a corner full of tools.

"Don't worry, Mr. Stark, I'll look out for him!"

"That's exactly what I'm worried about."

But they were already at his worktable, DUM-E way too eager to start just like Peter himself, both not listening to the mechanic's weak protests.

It turned out that the new formula he made during chemistry was only partly a success; the texture was definitely more robust than normal, but it wasn't sticky enough. Peter basically made an incredibly strong and nearly transparent rope.

"Alright, this was kinda a fail. Hey, Dumdum, you've got some glue or something?" the teen joked, knowing that some Elmer's wouldn't be of any help.

He quickly rummaged through the- no, his drawers, placing various flasks and tubes and the, mostly, harmless chemicals he needed for another combo onto the table. He couldn't wait to finally start, safety goggles already on.

Something nudging his arm caught his attention, Peter smiling as he saw DUM-E, some kind of bottle in his claw.

"Hey, buddy, what is that?"

He knew the bot couldn't really answer, but according to his beeping he was in the middle of explaining something seemingly important, Peter already thinking about how he could convince Mr. Stark to work on some kind of translator. He would've loved to understand the bots.

"It is glue, Peter, just like you requested earlier."

His heart literally melted as he took the bottle from DUM-E, the robot beeping in delight as Peter proceeded to pat his head. Well, he couldn't leave the guy hanging now, could he?

The teen quickly opened it up, squeezing a tiny amount onto a metallic lense which was connected to FRIDAY incasehe wanted a 100% accurate analysis of chemical concoctions, just like Mr. Stark showed him earlier.

"Fri, give me a picture of it's contents, let's see if we can play around with my failed webs."

He then continued to check on DUM-E, making sure that he wasn't making any trouble or accidently mixing stuff together, praising the bot for, well, doing nothing sinister whilst hearing the bling of FRIDAY having finished her calculations.

"And? Can I try it out?"

"Positive."

Peter was just about to pour the glue into the flask as his eyes darted over to the bot who was looking at him with the biggest imaginery puppy eyes to ever exist without actually having any eyes. He told DUM-E he was allowed to help him, he might as well keep that promise.

"Ok, this is your very own web fluid experiment, Dumdum, so how about you pour it in?"

He couldn't help but smile at the bot's excitement as he took the opened bottle, pouring the substance into the medium sized flask with the web fluid.

It bubbled up a bit, showing a slight reaction as Peter continued to stirr, not knowing how it was going to affect the webs, asking DUM-E to watch over the experiment whilst he took his backpack, searching for his web shooters.

It surely wouldn't hurt to try it out, right?

The teen only put a little bit of the liquid into his shooters, not quite sure how it was going to turn out, and fastened them onto his wrists. It probably wasn't going to work anyways.

"Alright, bud. Ready for your first how to be as cool as Spider-Man lesson? You search for an empty wall, you aim, and then you press that button and-"

Peter shot the web, hitting the desired spot, chuckling as a giddy DUM-E chirped in delight. The bot couldn't contain his excitement, his head bobbing up and down, left and right whilst beeping like a maniac.

The teen thought his heart was going to explode because of that bot's dorkiness.

He was also totally shoked that the web actually stuck to the wall.

"DUM-E? You are a genious!" he exclaimed, getting excited himself as he quickly jumped over to the web, examining it's brutal stickyness.

Peter didn't think twice, ordering DUM-E to hold the flask with the new formula so he could refill his shooters later whilst pushing the button to fire another string.

It didn't work.

"What the... "

The teen pressed the button again and again, going as far as to slam his web shooters together to fix a minor bug, not thinking that they would totally malfunction, covering his hands in the liquid as they literally burst, nay, exploded, successfully webbing him.

"Shit,” he muttered as the webs wouldn't budge, both hands now glued together in front of him.

"Kid? You good?"

Because of course Mr. Stark would listen as soon as he was messing up.

"Yeah, sure, sorry, I just- never mind. I'm fine."

He tried again, attempting to just rip the webs apart, biting his tongue as pain shot trough his palm. That wasn't working.

He was screwed.

"Whatever you say, kiddo."

Thank god Mr. Stark wasn't really paying attention, the sound of the car's engine being turned on muffling the Peter's answer so that his mentor couldn't hear his lie.

The engine didn't last for long, though, Mr. Stark telling FRIDAY to re-calibrate something for tomorrow, tools being thrown into their case, indicating that he was totally going to check up on them.

Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap.

Okay, he couldn't panic, all was going to be fine, he just needed to find his dissolving solution, right?

Peter hastily looked through his backpack with his feet, nearly sighing in relief as he found the bottle with the solution, decapping it with his teeth and carefully pouring it over his hands.

He waited.

And waited.

And- oh crap it wasn't working.

Alright, okay, he couldn't hide this so he might as well be honest, right? Mr. Stark wouldn't, like, throw him out or anything, right? Right?

Shit.

"Uhm... Mr- Mr. Stark?"

"Give me a minute, I'm nearly finished here."

To say that Peter was totally freaking out was the understatement of the century, the teen getting more desperate to free himseld by the second.

Did criminals always feel that way whenever Spider-Man got them?

It was a damn nightmare.

"Mr. Stark, I- I think we've got a problem."

His heart was nervously beating in his chest as Peter struggled against the webs, trying to keep his panic down. Mr. Stark would know how to get him out of this sticky situation, he always knew what to do.

"Alright, kid, you got me. What's so import- "

His mentor stopped dead in his tracks as he saw him standing there, completely webbed up like a fool with his safety goggles on, DUM-E right behind the teen, both of them looking like the most innocent beings of planet earth.

Then he snorted.

Mr. Stark honest to god snorted.

He buckled over with laughter, propping himself up on Peter's table, one arm around his stomach, tears already running down his cheeks.

Peter could feel his face going red.

"Mr. Stark, could you just... " the teen started, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in his position as Mr. Stark continued to laugh, not looking like he would pull himself together any time soon.

"I'm so sorry, it's just that- Oh, goody, FRIDAY, snap a picture, this is- " another wave of laughter interruped him, his mentor desperately wiping the tears from his face before slowly calming down as he caught Peter's helpless gaze.

"Ok, I'm done. Let me see."

They should've known that things usually didn't work that way.

"DUM-E, get me something sharp to detangle this spider from his web."

It happened in a matter of seconds, DUM-E being totally overwhelmed, not knowing what to do. Whilst Peter told him to hold the flask with the new super sticky web fluid, Mr. Stark wanted him to move immediately, the mechanic still being his creator which meant that DUM-E had to follow his orders.

Peter's spidey sense spiked up as the bot panicked, his claw going slack, letting go of the flask.

He instinctivly dove for it, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't move his hands, hitting the glass midair away from the bot so DUM-E wouldn't get webbed over, the flask breaking due to Peter's strengh.

What the teen didn't realise was that Mr. Stark was trying to catch him but he was too slow, so he could only watch as Peter slammed into the floor with a loud smack. The young vigilante could feel how the web fluid drenched his left side, the liquid automatically soaking through his clothes and turning into sticky webs.

"Nah-ah! Get up, kid, you don’t get to stick to my floor."

The next thing Peter knew was that something janked him to his feet, causing him to stumble forwards.

Right into Mr. Stark.

He immediately tried to backtrack again, eyes blown wide as he realised what he just did, heart beating frantically because oh god, Mr. Stark was going to kill him and-

He could feel his blood run cold as he subtly tried to move his arms, his left side being mercilessly stuck to his mentor's so that they both looked into the other direction.

Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh fucking crap. He was dead, he was totally dead, Mr. Stark would be so damn mad and he'd shout at him and oh crap why did he always screw things up?

Peter was completely loosing it, heart hammering in his chest, eyes scrunched together as if he was trying to blend it all out. But Mr. Stark was right there and he was going to be so angry.

"Mr. Stark, I am so so so sorry! I didn- didn't mean for that to happen I swear! Please don't be mad, I won't- I won't bother you ever again, just, please don't- don't be mad- "

The teen was rambling nervously at lightning speed, struggling against Mr. Stark's ribs as he wanted to rip himself away to no avail, his mentor's free hand on his non sticky shoulder making him stop.

"Calm down, kid."

Wait a minute, was he-

"Are you laughing?"

He could feel how Mr. Stark chuckled, the sound vibrating in the man's chest, causing Peter to be utterly confused. Shouldn't he be, like, angry at him?

"Hey, hey, kiddo, you know what?" he laughed, patting Peter's shoulder. He couldn't really see the billionaire's face, at least not without angling his neck in a weird way, but he really wanted to.

"I hope this doesn't wind up on the web."

No. Friggin'. Way.

"Mr. Stark!" he whined, seriously wanting to facepalm himself.

"Ok, sorry, I had to get that off my chest."

"So, you're, like, not, uhm, mad?" the teen asked, still trying to angle his face so he could look at Mr. Stark, said man heaving a sigh.

"I'm not particularly happy, but I kinda knew that you and DUM-E would mess up somehow."

Peter simply stared at him, brows furrowed in confusion, his neck twisted back as far as possible.

"What, do you want me to scream your head off?"

Peter immediately shook said bodypart.

"Yeah, thought so. I wasn't too fond of being yelled at either. For now, which limbs can you move, Underoos?"

The teen focused on his body, checking everything through. His hands were a total no-go, the bundle of fingers being stuck to Mr. Stark's left shoulder, the billionaire's hand still gripping Peter's upper arm from janking him to his feet earlier. His own shoulder was glued to his mentor's ribs, so the only things he could actually move were-

"My legs. That's it."

The mechanic huffed as a response.

"Well, at least I've saved my right arm. So we've got four legs, one arm, and two brains. I think we'll manage, kid."

Walking proved to be rather tricky with both of them looking into the opposite direction, but since Mr. Stark pulled the you are a young enhanced human plus this is your damn fault - card, Peter was the one who had to walk backwards.

"What exactly did you brew together, anyway? These webs are incredibly annoying."

Mr. Stark was right, they really were. They were sticky for ten seconds or so, turning into a robust material which wasn't bendy at all.

"Uhm, glue?"

"Glue?! That's it?"

"Well, yeah?"

Peter thought for a second. "I mean, it wasn't regular glue; DUM-E gave it to me, that's why I wanted to try it out, 'cause, you know, I didn't want him to feel bad."

As if on cue, the bot arrived, a pair of scissors in his claw, looking sad and slightly scared, exactly like a kid who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

Not that Peter knew how that felt like, he, of course, would never do such a thing.

"You are the most incapable pile of metal I've even seen in my god damn life and I've witnessed Justin Hammer's weapons first hand."

His mentor tiredly rubbed his forehead as DUM-E chirped in a broken tone, laying the scissors on the desk in shame. Peter's heart broke for the bot.

It was U who made Mr. Stark curse under his breath, making his way over after realising what was happening; Peter recognising the bot's slightly lower beeping, making him wonder what was going on because he was looking at a rather boring wall.

"Did you use this?"

The bottle with the glue from earlier was held under his nose at an awkward angle.

"Uhm, yeah."

Mr. Stark's cold and ironic laugh made the teen feel like they somehow managed to really mess something up. The lack of an answer made him even more anxious, his wrists already itching uncomfortably.

"Congrats, Parker, you managed to use glue I specifically created to be undissolvable."

Oh, crap.

Previously on Peter screws the pooch. 

They were on it for hours, trying everything they could think of; from searching for a solution which could dissolve Mr. Stark's undissolvable super glue to attempting to freeze or burn the webs off, nothing worked.

"With all due respect, Mr. Stark, didn't it cross your mind that creating some weird mutant glue wasn't your best idea?"

The genious suddenly stopped in his tracks which caused Peter to stumble into him, his mentor's posture rigid as he took a deep, calming breath as if he was trying not to explode.

Oops.

Peter's voice was even higher than usual as he tried to hold his arms up in surrender, momentarily forgetting that they were webbed together, janking Mr. Stark's shoulder by accident. "I'm taking it back! I'm taking it back! Please don't kill me!"

The workshop was a real mess, mentor and mentee stumbling all the time, the mechanic not giving a toss whether they knocked everything over or not, the two of them getting more frustrated with every passing minute.

"I swear to god, kid, as soon as we're seperated I'll have you keep a safety distance of at least 5 ft."

The teen was feeling too guilty to argue with that, happy that Mr. Stark apparently still wanted to have him around after causing so much trouble. He was fairly sure his mentor would just throw him out of the window as soon as he could.

They were on the verge of just giving up and accepting their fate of having to somehow painfully pry off their clothes in order to free themselves as FRIDAY chimed in, her voice clearly amused.

"Boss, I might've found something of interest."

"Well, good for you, FRIDAY, now spit it out."

Was that a snicker? Peter was pretty sure the AI had just snickered, meaning that whatever she had to say wasn't their salvation but rather-

"The webs seem to harden up over time, causing the fibers to crack."

The billionaire was impatiently tapping the floor with his toes, motioning with his one free arm for her to continue.

"Which means that you would be able to simply break it off as soon as it's porous enough."

Huh, that didn't sound that bad, why was she acting so smug?

"Great, now, how long will that take? I can't really feel my arm anymore."

The dramatic pause should've warned them, should've told them that FRIDAY was having way too much fun for artificial intelligence.

"Approximately 18 hours."

Silence.

"Damn it, Peter, you little shit!"