Archive of Our Own ^beta

The window was open, cool air filling his stuffy room as he sat on his bed with a blank face. Peter felt weird, like, really weird. He wasn't even having a nightmare or anything because he couldn't fall asleep; it was as if his brain suddenly decided to overthink everything. And it was awful; he could feel how his mind simply wouldn't stop working and it slowly but surely drove him insane.

To put it simple, the teen was restless. That wasn't something unusual per se, but that very night he felt borderline frantic, his right leg jumping up and down in an inhuman speed.

Peter didn't know what to do to make it finally stop. More importantly, he still didn't know what was wrong; he was so darn tired and wide awake at the same time and it was incredibly frustrating.

His room was getting smaller and smaller by the second, the teen's heartbeat increasing as his breaths became uneven, sweat pouring down his temples. He was so confused, nothing of significance happened that day so he had no reason to be so... upset?

Except the fact that everything was just weird. It wasn't much, really, but somehow everything felt slightly off, like when Aunt May pushed their table three inches further to the left and Peter bumped into the corners for at least a month afterwards.

The teen huffed in exasperation, letting himself fall backwards so his head hit the mattress, closing his eyes in hopes that something changed, that he could finally, finally, hit the sack and sleep.

Peter was no stranger to an overthinking brain, hell, he was known for rambling a lot because his mind wouldn't stop working, but it apparently reached it's epidome this time, causing him insomnia.

Pushing his palms against his eyes, he growled in frustration.

He also tried to talk to Mr. Stark about it once, after said man picked him up from school to tinker in his workshop, which was a thing they did now after that weird period of radio silence, hoping that his mentor had a solution; but the mechanic gave him the original sketches for the very first Iron Man suit and he kinda geeked out and forgot about everything else.

However, as Peter realised that he actually wanted to talk to the genious about his problems, as in, his overthinking and restless tendencies, he concluded with a pang of sadness that it wasn't what their mentor-mentee relationship was about. Peter Parker's problems weren't worth Tony Stark's time.

Only Spider-Man's were. Sometimes. If he was lucky.

Yes, spending time with Mr. Stark was awesome, he loved every second of it and they did get along pretty well, but they only really talked about science related stuff which, again, was awesome, but it didn't feel like he could just sit down with the man and have a conversation about his weird spider-teen problems.

At least that's what he tried to tell himself over and over again. But sometimes he felt like his mentor was trying to get more involved in his everyday life.

And that was the next weird thing. Not that Mr. Stark was weird or anything, he was amazing, honest, but Peter grew up with seeing that man on TV and admiring him for his cool facade and snarky comments and the fact that he was untouchable. So, yeah, it was incredibly weird that the billionaire suddenly laughed at the teen's embarrassing attempts to be funny whilst patiently explaining what he was currently working on.

Peter, of course, absorbed every tidbid of knowledge the genious gave him like a sponge, only realising that he somehow came to spend every Friday afternoon at the workshop after two whole months, and it was only because Ned pointed it out with pure excitement, MJ backing him up with a smug grin.

Aunt May only smiled as he brought it up, and Peter grew suspicious as to why his aunt looked like she had known exactly what was going on. That made him feel even weirder because he absolutely didn't.

Why would Mr. Stark, genious-playboy-billionaire-philantrophist and Iron Man let a weird teen into his workshop? On a regular basis? Nay, why would said man pick him up from school, every Friday, for over two months?

So, yeah, everything felt so damn weird, but that was by far the weirdest weird of all the weirdness he weirded.

His tongue started to cramp as he tried to say that sentence out loud.

The teen sighed, swinging his legs over his bed because there was no way he was falling asleep.  He quietly walked around for a few minutes, letting his arms swing back and forth before doing a handstand and continuing to walk on his hands instead, wincing as he saw the dust and dirt beneath his bed.

Yup, he definitely needed to clean his room again.

His Spider-Man mask caught his attention, halfheartedly thrown onto a chair. Not thinking twice because his brain was about to burst anyways, he quickly pulled it over his head.

"Welcome back, Peter. Isn't it a little late for patrol?" his very own AI greeted, and the vigilante realised that Karen was also one of the weird things that belonged in his mental ordner with the title W.E.I.R.D.

"Hey, Karen. No, no patrolling, I just wanna talk for a bit, you know?"

"What do you want to talk about, Peter?"

Yeah, that was the next problem. He didn't know. "Uhm, how are you doing?" Peter asked, cringing as he realised that he was being incredibly pathetic.

"I'm fine, Peter, all my functions are working perfectly well. How about yourself?"

The teen absentmindedly played with the hem of his shirt, leg still bouncing up and down. "I feel weird," he whispered, rolling his shoulders. "Like my brain just can't stop working and I feel so restless."

He was met with silence, the vigilante about to pull his mask off again as Karen finally graced him with a response.

"Could it be that you're still stressed because of the incident with the Vulture?"

Peter thought about it, really, really thought about it, and maybe it was one of the reasons why he was feeling so strange, but apart from a few bad dreams here and there, he was mostly fine after defeating him.

Yeah, nightmares sucked, but as sad as it was, the teen was used to them after loosing his parents and Uncle Ben. They weren't pretty, not at all, but he could handle them.

"Maybe," he paused for a second, fingers feeling the fabric of his shirt, brows raised. "I hope this will go away soon because I really wanna sleep."

He looked out of the window, the sudden urge to jump overwhelming him as he laid his eyes on Queens, his room too small to breathe. Surely it wouldn't cause any problems if he took a stroll, right? He'd just try to lay as low as possible.

Plus, he couldn't sleep anyways, so it didn't matter whether he was awake in his way too stuffy room or swinging around skyscrapers. Yeah, that was a good idea.

"Karen? We'll just go out for a bit, yeah?"

The teen pulled his suit on in the blink of an eye before catapulting himself out of his room despite his AI's voiced concern, hoping that his aunt wouldn't notice that he was gone because it was way after his curfew.

Peter had no real destination in mind, simply relishing in the fresh breeze hitting his face through his mask as he webbed himself from one building to the other, enjoying the breathtaking view of New York City at night. He couldn't help but yelp as he nearly faceplanted after he miscalculated a web, adrenaline coursing through his veins, finally making him feel at ease.

The trick was: he had to keep on moving because as soon as he sat onto a random roof in silence, his mind bombarded him with a million thoughts at the same time, so he occupied himself with reckless stunts like jumping off skyscrapers with a back-flip.

His face turned red as he remembered that time he had the glorious idea to jump off Stark Tower.

It was rather embarrassing, overly dramatic and totally unnecessary as Iron Man caught him in his Spider-Man suit mid-fall, holding him by his ankle so he was actually hanging upside down, not letting him go until he reached a big square full of people who were laughing.

The laughter increased as Iron Man didn't exactly let him down gently, as in, Peter fell face first into literal dirt.

It only got worse as the superhero continued to scold him and Aunt May had the time of her life as she found the footage of said incident. Right after having his head for jumping off the highest building in New York. She fixed herself a snack to watch, the teen ready to bury himself alive from embarrassment.

Needless to say, jumping off Stark Tower was a big no-no, and Peter really didn't want to be humiliated like that again.

He quickly shot a web, shaking his head at the memory whilst pulling his legs up so he wouldn't touch the street mere feet below him as Karen's voice rang in his ears.

"Incoming call from Tony Stark."

What?

Peter froze, brows raised in surprise because Mr. Stark never called him. Except that one time when he was on the Ferry and he really didn't want to think about how that went.

His mentor's face appeared right in front of him.

Oh crap.

"Uhm, Mr. Stark? Is everything alright? Do we have a mission?"

Peter was already checking his remaining web fluid, glad that it would probably be enough for a fight or something of that sort.

"No, I'm just calling because you're in your suit at 2:17 am, Parker."

"I can explain- "

"Tower. Now."

And with that, the call ended, leaving Peter alone with his overthinking and blazing anxiety. Great. This was great. The teen sighed, kicking a pebble was far away as possible in frustration and hoping that his mentor wouldn't be too mad.

Though, as he thought back to Mr. Stark's face, he didn't seem angry at all, which was making him even more anxious.

So, he quickly webbed over to the Tower, a small smile forming on his lips despite the uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he saw the opened window, which, of course, lead directly into the workshop. He was surprised as he found Mr. Stark leaning against his oval desk, two mugs of hot chocolate in his hands.

"Hey, kid. Restless, huh?" Peter couldn't do anything but stand there, mask off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Tony Stark walked passed him, shoving the warm beverage into his hands.

It appeared to Peter that no matter how awesome Karen was, she was a real tattle-tale.

"Yeah, uhm, it's nothing, really."

He awkwardly stood in the middle of the workshop, hot chocolate in a red and gold mug in his hands, feeling totally out of place. Peter only ever was at Mr. Stark's to tinker, either in total silence as both of them worked on their own projects, or with easy banter going back and forth as they tried to improve the suits.

But, no matter what they did, they always ended up working on an old car which meant that Mr. Stark lay underneath it whilst Peter gave him the tools he needed. It was the most mundane thing, but somehow it was special all the same because that was usually the time where the mechanic told him stories about his days at MIT.

Maybe they weren't only talking about science, after all.

"Do you want to keep standing there like a fish out of water or would you do us both a favour and sit down?"

The teen got startled, his otherwise painfully active brain deciding to short circuit, not noticing how Mr. Stark was actually moving his head towards the couch. Naturally, Peter panicked, which resulted in him sitting on the floor like a total fool.

He realised his mistake as soon as he looked up at his mentor, Mr. Stark staring at him like he was a puzzle he needed to solve before his lips twitched, hand shooting up to run through his goatee in an obvious attempt to hide his amusement.

Peter could feel how his ears turned red.

"Yeah, kid, I'm sure the concrete is comfy, but how about the couch?" he rhetorically asked whilst moving to sit down on said item himself. Peter didn't want to embarrass himself even further so he quickly scrambled to his feet, thankful for his spider senses that he didn't stumble in the process before hesitantly sitting next to his mentor, the mug clutched in his hands like a lifeline.

"Alright, what's this with the nervous energy, Parker," he asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked at the teen. Peter shrugged, hoping that that would be enough for now, taking a tentative sip of the hot chocolate. His chest immediately felt lighter.

"It's, uhm, it's really not important, Mr. Stark," he grumbled, his voice quiet and so damn shy that he wanted to kick his own ass to the moon.

"Wow, here you are all bashful and sporting red ears, but two days ago you had the nerve to tell me that I'm getting old."

He couldn't help but crack a smile at that. "I thought you broke your back for a second."

"I stood up, you brat. Humans usually have joints that tend to crack."

"See, that's what I'm talking about."

Mr. Stark clearly wanted to punch his arm, but the teen held his mug up in defense, his smile turning into a smug grin. "You're sideburns are becoming grey, too."

"At least I've got facial hair, you're as blank as a baboon's ass."

And Peter laughed, nearly spitting hot chocolate into his mentor's face, his cheeks hurting. At least he had the dignity to look sheepish.

His smile wouldn't leave his face because this was good, this was normal. He ignored the nagging thought at the back of his mind that this was the weirdest thing ever.

They went silent and Peter stared out of the huge floor to ceiling windows, eyes roaming across New York as he took another sip, leaning his cheek against his pulled up knee.

"Alright, kiddo, what's bugging you." Mr. Stark's voice was unusually gentle and Peter took a deep breath, feeling how his mind began to race again, surpressing the urge to fidget with something, anything.

"I really don't know, like, everything's so... weird."

"Weird?" his mentor asked, brows furrowed in confusion. "You do realise that you're basically half spider, right?"

"Actually, it should only be about, like, 2% or something."

"You hang upside down because you like it. That's half spider to me, kid." Mr. Stark looked up and Peter followed his gaze, hunching his shoulders as he saw footprints on the ceiling. "Yeah, uhm, sorry 'bout that."

"I'll order U to clean it."

The teen looked up again, then looked at said bot moping the floor in a corner. Peter wondered whether U fell asleep and the movement was just his weird robotic instinct or whatever. Then he wondered whether the bots were able to fall asleep at all and knowing Mr. Stark, they probably were.

"Alright, now, back to feelings," he said, pulling a grimace at the last word which was just so predictable that Peter wondered since when he knew Tony Stark's antics. "What do mean with 'everything's weird'?”

Peter didn't have the heart to tell him that one can't do quotation marks with only one finger instead of two per hand but he did store that information for later, his lips twitching in slight amusement.

"I don't know, it's just... Okay, so, sometimes my brain just won't shut up- "

"You don't say."

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, the teen continued as if he weren't interrupted. "And I feel like there is always one topic I'm completely overthinking, because, well," he tapped his temple, "this won't stop working."

His mentor had his thinking face on which consisted of a half smile, raised eyebrows and squinted eyes, and once again Peter realised that that wasn't a facial expression he has ever seen him making before he started to spend his time in the workshop.

"So, today's topic is 'weird stuff'?"

"Yeah, kinda," the teen agreed, thankful for the hot chocolate's warmth whilst complentating whether it was Mr. Stark's doing or DUM-E's. Though, he didn't think the bot could ever make a drink without adding motor oil. At the same time, his mentor didn't look like someone who knew how to make hot chocolate, either. "It just came to my attention that everything's so weird. Like, it feels... off, somehow."

"Huh, that does sound weird."

Peter couldn't contain the chuckle bubbling up his chest. "That's my point, Mr. Stark. But I'm not even actively thinking, you know? I just- I can feel how my mind is going a mile a minute and it makes me so- "

"Uneasy."

"Yeah! And it sucks," Peter whispered the last part, curling in on himself a little more because, gosh, he just wanted to friggin sleep. Instead, he was drinking hot chocolate with Tony Stark. Weird.

"This is really good, Mr. Stark. Thanks," he said, motioning for the mug in his hands.

"I know, Pepper's are the best." His mentor carelessly put his feet onto a small table in front of them, looking so homey and at ease that the teen got hit by another wave of that weird feeling, eyes widened in surprise.

"Pepper? As in, Pepper Potts?"

"The one and only. She says hi, by the way"

Peter was honestly about to have a major geek-out. "The Pepper Potts says hi? Oh my god, she's so badass. And a little bit scary. But badass."

Mr. Stark's deep chuckle filled the room, fondly shaking his head, and even though Peter was thinking that everything was so weird, that right there felt so incredibly normal that the teen nearly fainted because it shouldn't.

"I'll send her your regards."

"You'll tell her I geeked out."

"I'll totally tell her you geeked out."

Peter couldn't help but sigh, giving up. There was no way to convince Mr. Stark not to embarrass him in front of Ms. Potts, so all that he could do was hope against all hope that his mentor wouldn't be too mean.

Yeah, no, who was he kidding.

They sat in comfortable silence, the never ending hum of the workshop somehow helping Peter to relax a bit, all the machines and constant noises causing him to feel a little bit more at ease. His brain still refused to shut up completely, but at least it didn't feel like it might explode anymore.

He savoured the last sip of his hot chocolate, sighing as he put it onto the table, his arms immediately snaking around his knees, pulling them closer to his chest.

"School's been boring recently, huh, kid?"

He felt how his ears prickled in humility as he lowered his gaze, staring at the fabric of his suit whilst shrugging. "Maybe?" Peter said, his mentor's familiar hand resting on his shoulder.

"Alright, squirt, get up and I'll show you how we deal with it."

“We?”

Mr. Stark rolled his eyes, sighing whilst hauling Peter up and leading him through the workshop by his shoulders. “What, you think you’re the only genious in town with a non-stop brain activity?”

And Peter couldn’t surpress the warm feeling spreading from his chest all troughout his body because of course Mr. Stark would understand, he always understood. He was still being led by his mentor, trying to figure out what his cure for a restless mind was.

"Where are we going?"

"Lordy, are you an impatient little arachnid. Relax, Parker."

The teen gave up, a huge smile plastered on his face as his mentor suddenly stopped in front of a big iron door, Peter's smile mirrowed on the older man's face in form of a small twitch of his lips.

Mr. Stark quickly opened the door, lights flickering to life as he stepped out of the way so Peter could have a look.

"A storage?"

He went inside, fingers already brushing over old boxes full of junk, his dumbster diver heart skipping a beat as he turned around, giving Mr. Stark the biggest grin he could muster.

"Yep," the genious said, plopping the p. "I call it: The room of unfinished ingeniousness."

Peter's eyes widened at that, staring at Mr. Stark like he's grown a second head. "You mean, these are full of your unfinished inventions?"

All he needed was a short nod before turning back around again, skimming through the storage room full of technology his mentor hasn't finished for whatever reasons. It was only then that he inspected the boxes, seeing the occasional year scribbled onto them.

2015

2014

2013

He went in further, a cribbling feeling in his stomach making him giddy with excitement and awe because that right there was something only a few people have ever laid eyes on and he, a weird teen called Peter Parker, was one of them.

Ned was going to freak out.

1999

1998

1997–

"You can grab whatever you want and fix it, kid."

Ned wasn't only going to freak out, he was going to faint. No, scratch that, he was going to faint.

"I- I can?" he stuttered, desperately trying to keep his cool demeanor which he most definitely did not possess in the first place. Mr. Stark sighed in amusement, giving him another affirming nod.

Peter didn't need to be told twice, practically running to the back of the room, ignoring his mentor's snarky comments that he shouldn't have the energy to run around like that in the middle of the night without being on a caffeine boost.

The teen read the dates, knowing full well what kind of box he wanted to open, softly bouncing from one year to the next, searching for the oldest he could find.

1990

1989

1988...

"1979?" He couldn't believe his eyes, trembling fingers brushing over the carelessly written numbers, looking at Mr. Stark in pure admiration. "This is- Mr. Stark, you were- "

"Nine, yes," he confirmed, hand placed on Peter's shoulder. "Don't bother with that one, kid. It's completely useless."

He gave the teen a pat, promptly turning away and searching for something himself, the noise of metal clunking together filling the large room. Peter quickly took the small box nonetheless before carefully setting it down, crouching in front of it as he swiftly opened it up, already buzzing with pure excitement.

Inside was a rather weird machine, looking like a mixture between an old lantern and a projector, built with materials that were so obviously leftovers that Peter's heart clenched at it’s sight. His own inventions looked exactly the same before he met Mr. Stark.

There were some sketches for it, too, and after examining the machine, comparing it to the wobbly draft which was clearly drawn by a child, the teen realised that it was nearly finished anyways.

"Hey, kid, you ready?"

"Yeah, one second, Mr. Stark."

He quickly gathered everything up in his arms, jogging over to his mentor who was already playing around with a weird gauntlet, following him outside.

Peter instinctively went to his very own oval workplace, still not believing that he had his own area in Tony Stark's very own and, most importantly, private workshop. He was definitely one lucky spider.

It didn't take long to collect everything he needed to fix and finally finish Mr. Stark's weird invention, the teen studying the already slightly faded sketch, marbling at the old paper. It was definitely some kind of projector, and Peter was quite sure he could figure out it's purpose by the sketch alone, but why should he if he could simply build it together and let himself be surprised?

So he got to work, sharpening edges, fixing all the gears, sanding it so it wouldn't look to ragged and doing whatever Mr. Stark didn't finish in the late 70's.

He didn't question it as another mug of hot chocolate found it's way onto his table, the teen taking a big swig, shrugging at the slightly different taste.

"Of course you would choose the most unimpressive thing to fix."

Peter lifted his head, looking at his mentor whilst his hands were fumbling with one of the screws. "I dunno, it was the oldest box," he said, his attention going back to the weird machine.

He connected the last wires, putting everything into place, his finger hovering over the start button. "Wait, this isn't anything dangerous, right, Mr. Stark?"

Said man rolled his eyes in exasperation whilst wiping his greasy hands on his shirt. "Jeez, squirt, I was nine. My father even said this thing wasn't worth his leftovers."

The teen surpressed a wince as an image of a nine year old Tony Stark entered his mind, hurt written all over his face, the weird machine clutched in his arms.

My father never gave me a lot of support.

He quickly banned that picture from his inner eye, focusing on the task at hand instead. "Alright, pressing the unidentified machine's on button in three, two, one- "

Peter was has spent his entire life in New York, as in, he couldn't recount ever leaving the city except that one time where Mr. Stark took him to Germany. He knew that his parents took him to Florida once, but as sad as it was, he simply couldn't remember. The teen was a real city kid, used to the inevitable pollution, dark clouds hanging around skyscrapets all the time.

So when the whole ceiling of the workshop became an endless sky full of stars, his young heart skipped a beat in awe.

It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

He couldn't help but gawk at it, head held back in an uncomfortable angle so he could take in as much as possible at the same time, his eyes skipping from one star to the next, a delighted laugh bubbling up his chest.

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark this- you- wow."

Taking his eyes off the ceiling to look at his mentor was more difficult than he thought, but the moment he took the older man in he felt his blood freeze in his veins.

Mr. Stark was staring at the ceiling as well, but his posture was stiff, his hands slightly trembling, his eyes wide open but definitely not in awe.

"Mr. Stark?"

There was no reaction at first and Peter took a tentative step forward, brows knitted together in concern as his mentor suddenly came back to himself, his whole body flinching.

"Huh? M'fine, kid. I'm fine."

Peter's brows didn't ceise to furrow, worried eyes looking the man and down, searching for anything that could explain why the greatest hero blanked out for nearly a minute. But Mr. Stark's hand landed on his shoulder again, pulling him into something one could call a side-hug, the teen forgetting everything as he looked up at the sky full of beautifully twinkling stars above them, basking in the warm feeling in his chest.

"It's a, uh, sort of live transmission of the sky above us, you see. It takes our coordinates and voilá," he trails off, rather looking at Peter than the beauty of the stars, absentmindedly fiddling with his invention. "You can also type in the coordinates of whichever location you desire."

Mr. Stark's hands trembled as he pulled out a keyboard attached to the projector, quickly typing in the numbers, Peter's brain trying to decode the specific location but he couldn't, not familiar enough with coordinates. They still got stuck in his brain, safely tucked away to remember.

34.0012° N

118.8064° W

The teen watched in awe as the sky above him changed, new stars twinkling in delight, his smile nearly ripping his face apart. It was only then that his mentor let out a breath he was holding the whole time, hands steady as he playfully nudged Peter's shoulder.

"What's that face, kid, you've never seen stars before?" his mentor chuckled and Peter felt how his face heated, shutting his mouth, slowly lowering his gaze in humiliation.

"I- I haven't, Mr. Stark. This, uhm, this is- yeah."

He automatically prepped himself for the teasing, jaw clenched and arms crossed in front of his chest, but it never came. Looking over at Mr. Stark he saw how the man furrowed his brows, tongue clicking as he was deep in thought. Awkwardly clearing his throat, his gaze finally left Peter's, attention back to the machine.

"We'll start with New York, then."

"What?"

There was no room for any questions, though; Mr. Stark was already engrossed in typing, fingers swiftly flying over the keyboard. "Malibu is next. Still got some property, I could use a week off."

He hit enter, the stars above them shifting, magnificently glowing in the dark, and Peter took in the sight with a content smile.

"FRIDAY? Screens and lights off," he said whilst throwing the blankets from the couch onto the floor, followed by a few pillows. The whole workshop was plunged into total darkness, the floor to ceiling windows getting lost in the stars, making Peter's heart swell as Mr. Stark casually grabbed their mugs and put them onto the floor, right next to the pillows he stuffed underneath his head.

"30 minutes, Parker, and then I take you back to your aunt before she kills me for encouraging unhealthy sleeping schedules. Got it?"

Peter nodded, not hesitating for a second before joining him, wriggling around until he was comfortable whilst snatching a few pillows for himself.

The ceiling was even more beautiful from that position, his hands crossed on his stomach, eyes still wide in wonder. Mr. Stark sighed in obvious fake exasperation.

If someone would've told him he'd stargaze with Tony Stark himself a few hours ago, he would've laughed in their face.

"You see that incredibly bright star to the right?" The teen managed another quick nod, eyes fixed on said star. "That's Sirius; if you look lower," he pointed with his index finger, following the shape the stars were forming. "You can see Mirzam, Adhara, Aludra and Wezen."

Peter tried to commit the names to memory, eyes fixed on the stars his mentor was pointing out.

"You know what constillation that is, kid?"

He slowly shook his head, turning so he could look at Mr. Stark laying next to him, the man's arm trembling slightly. "It's like connect the dots, Peter. What do you see?"

The teen started with Sirius, trying to blend out all the other stars around the ones that were mentioned, tilting his head as he chuckled. "Looks like a really bad drawing of a dog- Hey!"

Peter put his arms above his head to shield himself from the pillow being thrown into his face, laughing as another followed suit. "Show the stars some respect, Parker."

But Mr. Stark couldn't contain his smile, either, sitting up and warming his hands up with his mug. Silence filled the workshop after that, the teen watching as his mentor's eyes turned from amused to something else.

"It's called Canis Major. That's, uhm, that was where I flew the nuke through that portal. Right between those damn stars."

The tremble in his hand was gone as he looked back at Peter, a genuine smile tugging at his lips again; and Peter knew he didn't need to say anything as everything clicked into place.

"It still looks like an ugly ass drawing, Mr. Stark." Peter said, laughing as another pillow missed him by a mile.

Mr. Stark still showed him all the constillations he could remember, rolling his eyes at Peter's commentary because Mr. Stark, that doesn't look like a unicorn at all! And they were in a warm, timless bubble, sipping on the hot chocolate that definitely wasn't Pepper Potts' doing this time, the stars above them and New York City below.

His mentor took a particularly big gulp from his mug after he finally made the teen see Orion, which wasn't an easy task, by the way, because Peter apparently lacked the imagination to see a guy with a shield made out of weird lines, his face scrunching up in disgust.

"Not trying to critisise your brewing skills, kid, but this tastes like crap."

Peter was just about to drink as well as he stopped aprubtly, giving his mentor a confused look before taking in the way too dark colour of his warm bevarage.

"Uhm, Mr. Stark?"

"Hmm?" said man hummed whilst taking another sip, Peter's stomach churning in empathy.

"I thought you made the hot chocolate."

Peter Parker has seen a lot of different facial expressions in his life, but never has he seen Tony Stark's face twisting into utter shock and betrayal, hot chocolate running down his chin as he spluttered, spitting the nearly black liquid back into the mug.

A chirping sound caused them both to whip their heads around, staring at DUM-E as said bot was giddily driving in circles, obviously excited about something.

They both could guess what the reason for the bot's happiness was.

"I'm going to kill him," Mr. Stark whispered, wiping his mouth with an already greasy towel. "I'm going to fucking kill him."

That was the very moment where the teen lost it, hysterical laughter bubbling up his chest as he bent over, tears streaming down his cheeks in delight as he examined their hot chocolate a la DUM-E further, smelling the motor oil they just drank.

It was also the very moment he realised that his brain stopped driving him insane a long, long time ago, laughing until tears were streaming down his face whilst Mr. Stark was chasing after his right hand bot, shouting one threat after the other through the workshop.

May Parker wasn’t easily rendered speechless anymore, not after she discovered that her nephew was Spider-Man. It took some time to get used to the fact that her 15 year old boy was running around in spandex designed by Tony Stark himself, whose number was on speed dial, just in case, but she managed. She also didn’t mind that Peter apparently favoured doing his homework upside down, or that she found spiderwebs in rather unusual places, or that she now also had to vacuum the ceiling so Peter wouldn’t sneeze because of the dust all the time.

She would do anything for her boy, vigilante or not, including putting up with a certain arrogant billionaire because May wasn’t stupid. It took her one look at Peter’s determined eyes before realising that she couldn’t ever force him to stop being Spider-Man, but she also knew that, as sad as it was, she couldn’t protect him anymore as soon as he put on that suit.

Which was why she immediately met up with Tony Stark after she reassured her nephew that everything was going to be fine.

And oh boy was that a talk.

May didn’t feel guilty at all whenever she recalled Stark’s pale face as she voiced her opinion, threatening him multiple times and making it absolutely clear that Peter was and never will be his tool.

She was, however, slightly surprised as she realised that Stark didn’t even see her boy as a tool in the first place. Because her nephew wormed his way into that man’s heart in the blink of an eye, of course, and she of all people should have known. That’s just how Peter works; big, brown eyes and a heart made of gold.

There was no heated argument like she imagined, Stark immediately giving his word to protect him, showing her all the safety protocols in Peter’s suit until her head was about to burst.

Yes, May may not like that arrogant prick, but she knew that her boy was in capable hands, calloused as they were.

She certainly wasn’t surprised as Tony asked her to spend friday afternoons with the kid.

So, as already mentioned, May Parker wasn’t easily rendered speechless anymore, really, but she swore to whatever deity there was she nearly screamed as she padded out of her bedroom, eyes glued shut from exhaustion, walking straight into another body in the middle of the night coming out of Peter’s room that was definitely not Peter.

“Okay, shit, hey, don’t panic Aunt May, it’s me.”

And as she finally focused on a very, very familiar face, she couldn’t help but be speechless. For about two seconds.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Nothing?”

She desperately tried to surpress her eyeroll without avail, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she waited for an answer, smirking as she realised that Stark was practically squirming.

It was then that she took in his dishelved state, hair sticking up into every direction, grease stains on his jeans and cheeks, the bags beneath his eyes bigger than her own.

He looked like total shit.

“Kid couldn’t sleep and needed a distraction. Went to the workshop real quick to tire him out a bit.”

She didn’t like Tony Stark, not yet at least, but she also couldn’t hate him. Because Peter adored and needed him to guide and help him where she couldn’t. So she sighed, motioning for him to follow her to the living room, already heating up a sandwich.

Who knew when that man ate the last time.

“Oh, uhm, by the way, do you think I could take Peter to Malibu for a week?” She heard him shuffle behind her, his nervous energy nearly causing her to chuckle.

“I own some property there and, okay the house was destroyed but the land is beautiful and the view too - there’s a beach and everything - so maybe- “

May simply ignored him, throwing the sandwich into his hands, amusement evident on her face as the billionaire spluttered a shy thanks.

“You wanna crash on the couch or are you lucid enough to drive?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, munching on the food like a starving man. “Pepper’s going to have my head if I don’t return now, so,” Stark quickly finished up, giving her a smile that other women would definitely describe as charming but May found rather annoying and somewhat endearing.

She quietly opened the door and he complied, stepping out of her apartment after a last glance around and yes, okay, he looked like a kicked puppy and May couldn’t have that.

“He’s got a long weekend in a good month; you boys could use a tan.”

Tony’s face lit up like a christmas tree and before she knew it he planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek which she immediately wiped with her sleeve.

“Thanks, Aunt May, you’re the best.”

 May was just about to shut the door in his face in exasperation as his voice got her attention again.

“Oh, and don’t panic, we didn’t blow up the roof.” With that, he was gone, leaving May alone in the living room, eyebrows raised in suspicion as she closed the door.

So, who could blame her for checking on her nephew, looking into his room as a pleasant glow hit her eyes, head turned upwards to take in the sky full of stars above her kid, no ceiling visible.

She didn’t even roll her eyes anymore, she was used to her weird life, after all, a small smile ever present on her lips as she carefully closed the door again, leaving Peter to sleep under the stars.

Only you, Tony Stark, she thought.

Only you.