Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Before the spider bite, winter was his favorite season. He loved the chill in the air and the warm hot chocolate. He had never minded the fact that his coats never truly kept him warm, it just meant he got to snuggle up with extra blankets each night.

After though, it turned into the harshest time for him. Patrolling in the snow and freezing his ass off all the time truly wasn’t a fun thing for a spider, especially when he couldn’t even thermoregulate properly and became far more tired all the time no matter how much he slept at night.

Even more so, him and Aunt May hadn’t been able to properly celebrate the holiday season for years. Before Uncle Ben passed, they would create a fuse of Christmas and Hanukkah. Ben would light the Menorah with Peter each night, and May would take him to church on Christmas Eve. He had always looked forwards to both, even if they didn’t exchange presents like other family’s.

This year was different though! Kind of… May hadn’t been able to get any time off, but Tony had invited Peter to stay in the tower Christmas week.

“You good Underoos? You’re shaking like a leaf in that jacket. Which reminds me I need to buy a new fleece lined puffer. “ Tony is standing in the entrance of the common rooms, holding two steaming mugs in both hands, one containing half drunk coffee, the other hot chocolate with whipped cream and peppermint shavings (because Tony is extra in everything he does.)

“I’m alright Mr.Stark!” Peter drops his backpack, stripping off his winter gear having already started sweating in the compounds heat.

“Mr.Harringtons class is always freezing anyways so I was already cold sitting in there. I’m pretty sure he’s a sociopath. Or lizard person, you decide which is worse. Ned swears I’m just bitter because he always wakes me up but it’s not like-“

Tony cuts him off by placing a hand on his shoulder, now handing the mug off hot chocolate into the boys hands. “ That’s great Underoos, but maybe save some lizard people talk for your political campaign. Why don’t we head up to the lab before dinner time, alright? “ Peter smiled brightly, using his right hand to push up his long sleeves and clutching the mug in his left.

They took the short trip to the lab, Peter still rambling on about his teachers and calling his gym teacher the spawn of satan for making them do extra push ups at 11 am.

Finally, the two got situated, Peter going to sit and work at his own personal desk. He had just begun brainstorming new web formulas when he remembered the lukewarm hot chocolate sat in front of him and finally took and brought the mug up to his face.

And then recoiled backwards, his spidey sense suddenly blaring as he kicked his chair backward and practically flung the mug away from him, the sugary chocolate liquid coating the white walls off the lab in a mere second. Tony turned in shock.

“What the fuuuck…. If you didn’t like hot chocolate you could’ve just said that bambino!” Peter stares, mouth slightly agape with a pen still positioned in his hand. “I- I am sosososossoso sorry! Oh my god I will clean this immediately! Holy shit I broke your mug-“ Peter stammers, reaching over his desk the wards a roll of paper towels and immediately going to wipe the dripping coco off the wall.

“Underoos- “ Tony stampers a laugh “ It’s okay alright? Just step away from those glass shards and tell me why you threw that M.I.T mug like it insulted your bloodline..” He stood, quickly maneuvering his way around a still frantic Peter to begin picking up the pieces.

“ I really don’t know and I’m so insanely sorry- I just… well my spider sense went off and in the moment I just had to get it away y’know? It was like the moment I went to take a sip my senses were on fire and spidey brain kicked in..” He flicked his fingernails together as he went to wet a paper towel and deal with the puddle of coco.

The two worked quickly to clean the mess, all remnants of the incident quickly discarded of as Peter stammered out a hundred apologies. “I’m serious kid, it i really is fine. I have like 30 M.I.T mugs, what’s one less? I’m more concerned with the fact that your spidey senses went haywire over hot chocolate - maybe that’s something we should look into kid.” He patted Peter’s shoulder, unsure of how to comfort the overly apologetic and anxious teen.

“Yeah probably… that’s never happened before.. It’s probably some weird spider thing, like the thermoregulating issue! Maybe I should look up like, spiders and chocolate or something.”

And so, the two settled down to cram in front of Peter’s work station and searching various key words about spiders and chocolate, spiders and whipped cream, spiders and hot drinks? And finally, the two landed on an actually helpful discovery.

“Look at this one Mr. Stark! Apparently Spiders hate the fragrance from peppermint oils because it messes with their senses… which is why my spidey sense went haywire! I guess the spider part of my DNA is deathly allergic to peppermint.” The two leaned back into their chairs, satisfied with their discovery.

“Well then, I guess that means no more peppermint for the baby spider. Friday, add that point to the baby protocols.”

And so it seemed, with half spider biology Peter had way more to learn about this whole mutate thing than he had initially thought. At least he never liked peppermint that much anyways.

Chapter Text

Peter probably should’ve given up when the words in his paper started morphing into Latin and his eyes became so dry they were crusted open. He did not.

He was Spider-Man for gods sake! A crime fighting but totally friendly neighborhood arachnid did NOT get his ass kicked hy finals week. That’s absurd. Which is why he’s standing in a random convenience store at 4 A.M and - wait, when the hell did it turn to morning?

Doesn’t matter, because he has twelve Monster Java Nitros to buy and a bag of pretzels to satiate his grumbling stomach. The clerk looked at him kinda weird, but sold him all twelve drinks and watched as he awkwardly stuck his hands to all the stuff and left.

He wasn’t entirely sure when he arrived home, or when he jumped back into the ceiling into his makeshift web hammock clad with four textbooks and now his delicious cardiac arrest drinks. Once again, it didn’t matter because brain fog only fuels his fire. Maybe.

He shifted and got comfortable, reaching over to grab a can and shotgun it. He dug his fingernails under the tab on the can to rip it open and -

How the hell did he end up the floor? And why didn’t his spider sense warn him his ass what about to collide with wood flooring - damn that hurt. The can he was holding sadly rolled away - he probably shouldn’t open that now.

If this whole chugging monsters and forcing his eyes open thing is affecting his spidey sense that much then maybe he should tone it down, a nap would probably be nice for starters. Or maybe he should he worried that he just slammed both his ass and head into the floor. If he falls asleep with a concussion (again) will he die? That would be really lame. Maybe they would write “Death by Web Hammock” on his gravestone.

Mr. Stark would personally revive him just to humiliate him if that happened. Oh, Mr. Stark! He should call him right now. Peter stumbled up, dizziness washing over him as he stumbled to find his phone under the mess of papers and textbooks on the floor.

Finally, he opened it and found a the man’s number, pressing on the call icon and falling back down onto the floor, listening to the sound of the ringtone.

______________________________________

Tony had actually had a great day. The kid was caught up in studying for finals - even though the anne as pretty sure the little genius could pass without studying at all. He and Pepper had enjoyed some delicious Italian food, and then the two of them actually got to get into bed at a reasonable time for once and threw on a random movie.

The two of them were dead asleep in the early morning when Tony’s phone began ringing, some random KE$HA song Peter had personally hacked into his phone (the little shit) just to change because - according to Peter, “KE$HA is our lord and savior. Respect my icon and her majestic recession pop music.”

Tony rolled over, immediately going to ignore the call when familiarity kicked in and he swung his feet out of the comfort of bed and turned his volume, stepping out of the bedroom into the living room and gently closing the door.

“Peter I swear, you better not be bleeding out or digging out bullets for wounds with Aunt Hotties tweezers again - what the hell are you doing awake at 4 in the morning anyways?” Tony rubbed his temple, glancing over at the clock in the shelf twice to make sure he was seeing the time correctly. What 16 year old is awake at this time? Peter, apparently.

“ Heyyyyy Mr. Stark I know it’s totally way too late - or early for this but ummmm… ImayormaynothavefallenoffawebhammockonthecielinganddroppedallmonsterandIthinkIhitjyheadsuperhard-“

“Kid! I need you to slow down for me here because I’m pretty sure I only caught the words ceiling and monster there. Calm down and tell what’s up so I can help you or let me go back to bed and get my beauty sleep.” He was pretty sure Peter was on something right now. High on life, as the kid would say.

“Okay um… I was studying for my finals and I’ve been trying to cram so much history in my brain I thought it was going to explode so I decided to go get some Monsters to perk me up and I was just sitting in my web hammock and I guess my spidey sense gets tired too because I fell and hit my head kinda hard on the ground and now I’m not sure what to do cause I’m totally dizzy and I’m not doctor but those black spots in my eyes are definitely not normal-“ Tony sighs, already stepping into the garage and suiting up.

“ I’ll be there in 10 kid. Whatever you do DONT fall asleep and stay where you are, I gotta check and make sure that’s brain of yours isn’t too rattled up. And when exactly was the last time you slept? You sound like a tweaker..” There were sounds of shifting on the other side, Peter slightly mumbling.

“Thank you sososo much Mr. Stark- and it’s really hasn’t been that long.. just like… threedays-“ Tony wa spretty sure his eyes were about to bulge out of his head. This kid was actually going to make his robotic heart stop.

“Good god Peter… when I became your mentor I did not sign up for pass my terrible health habits onto you kid. Finals week o r not, you should be getting ten hours every night, growing body and all that shit. I’m almost there though, so just keep sitting tight and stay on call.” Peter mumbled again, delusion catching up to his brain and making everything feel slow motion.

Tony finally arrived at the quaint Queens apartment, sun beginning to peak over the buildings as daily commuters hustled out. When he opened the door, he saw exactly what he had expected.

Peter was sat, leaning up against the coffee table on top of a variety of papers with cans and a spilled bag of pretzels. His head was leaning backward, left hand clutching his phone as he seemingly pried open his eyes.

Tony stepped over some discarded cans and crouched down in front of him, “ What’s up kid? You’re looking a bit… Frakenstieney right now. Just let me ask you a couple questions and you can drift off to dreamland in due time.” Peter’s head lolled forward, and Tony was pretty sure the kids eye bags could rival his own back in college.

“Alright just uh.. just tell me some basic stuff about yourself. Can you tell me your name, what day it is, where you are - why you are where you are right now?” Peter nodded, still clutching his phone. “Peter… last time i checked it was uhh… Wednesday and I’m in my apartment in Queens. I think I was studying on the ceiling and I fell? And now you’re here and I have a major headache..”

Tony smiled slightly at him, then put his hand on his back to guide Peter up. “Alright bambino, even though it’s actually Friday I’ll let that one slide, now let’s just get you into bed for a minimum of twelve hours - don’t worry about this mess, I clean it up while spider baby gets his nap.”

Peter stood up without a struggle, muttering something about not being a baby as Tony guide him into his room as he collapsed onto his bed - god he had missed his bed- and tugged his forgotten converse of his feet. In almost an instant, Peter was under the covers and dozing off as Tony pulled his curtains shut and silently shut the fire to begin cleaning up the mess.

Peter was a mess too, but he was lucky he was so hard not to like. Especially since it was only this kid that could get him out of bed at 4 A.M to be guided into bed due to his own stupidity.

Chapter Text

Being part human part arachnid was something Peter had gotten used to. He learned to live with the in as even at buzz of his spidey sense and blessed his super hearing when someone walk spilling tea and he just had to know.

That being said, it seemed that his steadily growing mutation loved to throw curveballs around him every once in a while. Totally fun and not stressful. Yippee for spider DNA!

He had been having these weird toothaches for days, but he also ate and drank a readable amount of sugar and forget to floss 9 times out of 10, so he was probably just gonna get scolded by his dentist for cavities or something. Of course, when he informed Bed of this fact, he immediately jumped to spider-related conclusions.

“Dude what if your growing fangs - or your spit becomes like, venomous! That would be so totally awesome! Maybe we should put some in a vat and test it!” Peter had damn near fell out of his chair at the other’s antics, frantically shushing him and glancing a round to see an amused MJ in the corner smirking with her sketchbook in hand.

Peter had never listened to Ned’s random and weird theories before, especially those regarding him and eggs for some god awful reason, so he hadn’t paid this any mind. It was a toothache. Totally normal and totally fixable.

And on Thursday when the ache had stopped, he didn’t pay it any mind either and went on about his day happily.

He had actually remembered to complete some missing History assignments, and successfully went to bed early and woke up without being in a frenzy of lateness. So yea, pretty good day if you asked him. It was only a huge plus he was going to the labs today too, having not seen Mr. Stark in a week after he got flown out to D.C for some “political bullshit - don’t worry that little brain of yours about kid. I’ll be back before you know it.” In Mr. Starks words, not his - he actually thought politics were very important.

The moment he sat down in Period 6 - Mr. Harrington a class, he was impatiently anticipating the ring of the bell. The class went by in a flash of catching up on homework, until finally the bell rung and he practically bolted out of the room, giving Ned a quick goodbye and promising to call him later in the night.

He practically spindled towards Happy’s car and jumped inside, pushing his backpack onto the floor and greeting the man who idly nodded in turn.

He pulled out his homework and continued working as he chattered on about his day, scribbling down equations and quickly plugging things into his calculator. “And Mrs. Cartelli was totally death glaring me the whole time - she absolutely hates my guts after I scratched her floor with my heelys even though I got down on my knees and scrubbed at it for like 10 minutes. It’s okay though, because she’s been pregnant for like a year now and she’ll go on leave and hopefully forget about that -“

“Peter! It’s great that you think I care about Mrs. Cartelli this much but we’ve been sitting out front for 10 minutes and Tony will have my head if you’re late. Chop chop, let’s go.” He quickly stumbled out and said goodbye, finally stepping into the tower and passing through security with a breeze.

He felt like he was going to explode standing in the elevator as it zoomed up, rolling on his heels as he anticipated lab day. Finally, it dinged and he steeped out, glancing around.

“Oh hey Mr. Stark! It’s so good to see you again - I know it’s only been a. week but literally so much has happened and I need to tell you all about it-“ Tony turned to him with a grin, which was quickly replaced with a look of shock. “…Mr. Stark? What’s up?”

“Kid, I was gone a week and you grew goddamn FANGS! What. the. fuck!?” Tony leaned into his face, raring at his teeth as Peter stood in shock trying to decide whether this was a badly labeled joke of some sort.

“Uhhh Mr. Stark I do not have fangs - I think I’d know if I did dude?” Peter stood, still dumbfounded as Tony grabbed a piece of scrap metal off his desk and shoved it into Peter face.

“HOLY SHIT - NED WAS RIGHT I DID GROW FANGS OH FUCK WHATDOIDO-“ He dropped his backpack, immediately putting his hands onto his head and consecutively freaking out. “Underoos let’s just… calm down alright? I’m sure we can figure this out. I call ol’ Brucey up and we can figure this out, maybe predict any more spider-ey features that may pop up in the future. Sound good?”

“I get to meet Bruce Banner…?”

Being a genetically modified part human part spider vigilante apparently does pay off, especially since he gets to meet his childhood science hero - no offense, Mr. Stark - IronMan was his favorite SUPER hero.

And, even more so, he got to make a bunch of cryptic ass twilight references after learning that Mr. Stark hadn’t ever seen them, and thus had zero do the context that made Peter’s references so much better.

(“You’re telling me you’ve never even seen the masterpiece that created ‘Bella, where have you located?!”)

Chapter Text

Mental health was weird. Peter, of all people, was well versed in the topic. He struggled constantly, beating his own records of all time highs to lows within days, all without a trophy at the end.

He struggled a lot. And yet he also thrived a lot. See how this thing gets complicated? Over time, he had learned to accept that everything was a gamble. Every night he fell asleep knowing there was a chance he could wake up and fall into a viscous cycle, that for months on end he could feel completely devoid of all life, and that had to be okay because he couldn’t stop it no matter what.

So then, it was times like these, with all his sleepless night staring at the ceiling and the loss of his super-spider appetite that he tried to live, no matter how dead he truly felt. Which was why he was standing in a Mcdonald’s, way past his bedtime with only his skateboard, keys, and headphones to weigh him down.

«  Welcome to Mcdonald’s, what can I get for you tonight? » The cashier had bright blue hair and eye bags that rivaled Peter’s. She looked fed up, a sentiment Peter could understand when working at a god awful food chain.

« Can I just get a 30 pice nugget and fries? Plus a fountain drink. Thanks. » She rang him up as handed over his receipt, never looking back up as he used his Apple Pay and went to sit down in a corner booth.

He sat there, staring out the window at the busy Queens streets and the fluorescent lighting killed his eyes. Finally, they called his food and he took it from the counter in a mere second. He filled up his cup with Dr. Pepper and couldn’t bother with the ice.

The food was bland. Of course, everything was bland to him when his brain shut down like this. He should’ve ordered a Happy meal and prayed it followed its title.

His ears ringing paired with the dryness of his eyes was an awful combo, and so he shoved his free headphones into his ear and scrolled on Spotify until he found something he liked.

Everything was sort of blurry. He couldn’t focus on the plastic chicken nuggets or his dirty skateboard propped against the booth, even the sting of the crisp Dr. Pepper didn’t register in his desolate brain. The fatigue of staying up for 5 days hadn’t set into his bones yet, but the brightly labeled 3:07 a.m shoes so brightly on his phone he was ashamed.

Nothing felt particularly real, which he supposed was better then the all consuming prescience of his advanced senses. His music was loud, and yet he couldn’t really care if the equally depressed looking man a few booths away gave a shit about his shitty headphones.

He didn’t register the song of the bel on the door, nor the man stepping into the buildings importance.

He was hyper focused on his too salty fries when the man sled into the booth across from him. « Y’know, if you wanted a late night snack you could’ve told - or asked someone. You scared the crap outta your Aunt there, kid. »

Black sunglasses stare at him, a des feet baseball cap adorning the man head along with his oil stained AC/DC shirt and sweats. God, Peter really needed to go to sleep.

« I left a note on the counter. You have my location. Plus, I’m perfectly fine walking the streets of Queens alone. You didn’t have to come out here, especially to some random Mcdonald’s I stumbled across. »

Tony remained eye contact with him. The. glanced down at his half eaten food and reached for a fry. Peter didn’t tell him they were cold and way too salty.

« That’s not the issue, Underoos. Your a brooding, angsty teen and I get that and all, but I’m worried about you. We’re worried about you. Maybe in your mind your some invisible kid, but we all see it. Your eating way less, and based of off those bags I’d say your taking after me a bit too much in the sleep department. I’m not - I’m not very good at this stuff, reaching out, but you need to know we’re here for you. Your not alone, bambino, so don’t force yourself to be. »

Tony’s gaze still hasn’t faltered, and Peter is pretty sure his eyes are glazed over in exhaustion. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. Doesn’t know where to even begin to make Mr. Stark understand.

If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know how to reach out, even with a hand extended right towards him. How could he possibly explain the bullets panting around his brain? The pain that set so deeply in his bones he couldn’t get up in the morning? And even then, he was far too afraid to explain that feeling of losing himself - because then, in all these years he’s spent aimlessly praying to get better, he would be admitting this feeling is real and raw. He can’t.

« I… I don’t know what your talking about. I’ve been a little stressed with school, is all. Having a bit of trouble balancing all of my shit - y’know? Nothing I can’t handle though. Everything’s totally fine. »

« That emptiness in your eyes says otherwise. Pete, I know it’s hard. To admit your suffering, that everything you feel so real, but it’s the first step in getting better. Your a good kid, too good actually. Which is why it hurts - for all of us, to see you suffering so quietly and never say a word. »

Peter took out his headphones. For the first time, he looked up from his cold fries.

« I don’t want to put my issues on you guys, especially not Aunt May. She shouldn’t have to worry about her depressed vigilante niece - I can deal with this on my own. I always have. »

« And yet you don’t have to. »

It didn’t fix anything, because nothing was that simple. And yet, the words still rocked Peter to his core. He had been dealing with this his whole life, suffering in complete silence and never letting anyone worry. He had never even considered the fact that their worry was because they cared, because they wanted to help him.

And so, he let Tony help, because Tony cared. He let the man steal his fries and spoke freely about how shitty his brain treated him, and his eyes glistened with every squeeze Tony gave him. He let the man walk him home and hold his skateboard, he let him use his own keys and then pull off Peter’s ratty vans and tell him to go change.

At 4 a.m, Peter arrived home with Tony and changed out of the school clothes he kept on for 12 hours, ignored the grease in his unwashed hair, and let the man tuck him into bed and believe his promise to stay through the morning.

It wasn’t healing, nor did it get rid of that hollowness in his bones, yet it was comforting. Comforting to know he still had someone to take care of him. That much was perfect for him.

Chapter Text

Peter’s life was shit. He has accepted this fact.

Okay maybe that’s a bit dramatic but still - the universe hates to see him winning. His life was actually, surprisingly, going well.

He was almost finished with his junior year, and things were good. He had stopped skipping so much school and never doing his homework (even if he stole the answers from Ned , it was a step up from leaving it blank). He had settled into his routine as Spider-man and even made some awesome vigilante allies to watch his back when the Avengers were too big to do so. He was, for once, actually doing really fucking well and experiencing real happiness. So of course, the universe had to go and knock him down and kick in his ribs.

He had his shit figured out, and then there it was. A crippling shift in his worldview that completely breaks his streak of happiness.

Maybe he was being dramatic again, but really, he had just wanted to finish his junior year strong and keep his shit together. So why, why on Gods green earth did he have to go to that party. Why couldn’t he have spent the night in Meds room building legos or watching horror movies on MJs couch?

But no, of course he had to show up to another one of Flash’s extravagant house parties and stand awkwardly in the kitchen, sipping on grossly sweet vodka seltzers and pretending the god awful music wasn’t giving him a blearing migraine.

Flash’s parties were well known for being, well, stereotypical rich kid parties. He has all kinds of alcohol and the biggest speakers known to man in every damn room, multiple dealers ready to set you up and way too people. Seriously, how do you even meet 200 something randos? Peter wasn’t even sure why he still attempted to show up and have fun, considering the fact that any alcohol he drank was absorbed in minutes and his enhanced senses made it his own personal hell.

For some reason, Flash had personally “invited” him to this specific party, something he’s never done for any in the past. And by invited, Peter means that Flash cornered him in the locker room and said he’d “better see you there, or not - I don’t give a shit anyways..” It’s not like Peter can stand Flash, let alone his parties, but something was so pathetic about Flash cornering him and inviting him that Peter felt bad enough to actually show up.

The air was thick with radiating body heat and smoke, and he was just about to head out when he saw it - or him.

Standing under blue led lights in Flash’s absurdly large living room was, to be frank, the hottest man Peter had ever goddamn seen. Of course, there’s nothing gay about h noticing an ethereal stranger - he could admit a dude was hit and be totally straight.

And then it just kept happening. He noticed these beautiful guys around his age, and sometime it started to feel less like admiration and more like attraction. He felt his cheeks heat up and his heartbeat speed up when the cute guy working at the 7-11 near his apartment grazed his hand.

It was something that, while not completely new to him, was slowly spiraling into something he wasn’t all too familiar with. He wanted entirely sure what to do about it either - did he act the cute cashier dude out or ignore all of this?

He had all his shit figured out - everything was fine, and now he was dealing with all these new feelings (or perhaps they ah always been there, lingering in his mind-) and he really, really didn’t know what to do.

And suddenly it was June. The air was thick with heat and school was out, and he was left with all the time in the world to think. So he did.

Whenever he wasn’t skating with Harry or having sleepovers with Med and Mj or even messing around in Tony’s lab, he was thinking. Wondering about all of these feelings and how he felt about them.

Eventually, it stopped being so scary. All of it wasn’t so foreign, and he realized that he had accepted it. Accepted himself. He went even sure what he was - gay, bi, pan. But it doesn’t really matter to him, because he could accept it no matter the label.

And then it was the matter of those he loved, of coming out to them and being honest. With Ned and MJ it was easy - as easy as sharing something to vulnerable could be. They were all sat on the couch, watching The Proposal for the millionth time and seeing who could jug minters the fastest when he said it.

“I’m pretty sure Ryan Reynolds ass made me like dudes, cause I only notice the hot ones that look like him-“

They had all laughed, Ned nearly spewing monster out of his nose and MJ smirking like she always did. They had accepted him, although he had known they would, and the whole thing had so sickeningly sweet he knew he could would never forget it.

Next had been Aunt May, which was certainly more terrifying than his two closest friends. Logically he knew she would accept him, she had accepted him no matter what his whole life - liking boys was barely a scratch on his record of shocking changes. Hell, she accepted him as a spider mutated vigilante - this was minuscule.

And yet anxiety had still settled deep in his gut, leaving him nauseous all day as every worst scenario plagued his mind. Finally, she arrived home from her shift around eight - the sun had begun setting a sun the apartment was suffocatingly warm, but he did it.

He sat next to her on their couch, takeout dish in hand, and with some random black and white movie in the background, he told her as simply and straightforward as his anxious mind could generate.

She had smiled and hugged him, reminding him that nothing could change how much she loved him and that she accepted anything he was as and wanted to be. The whole ordeal had ended with tender “ I larb’s you’s” and Peter was left content.

Of course, the final contender: Tony.

The two had become ultimately inseparable, and Peter had truly grown to respect and love the man. Of course, he had issues with Tony’s billionaire tendency and the man hypocrisy and often struggled to feel dorothy in front of the man. Yet Peter had grown, both physically and mentally since they had first met, and he was no longer afraid to call bullshit to what used to be his childhood favorite.

Similarly to May, he knew that logically, Tony wasn’t homophobic. There wasn’t any reason to him to fear the worst when he had no evidence to say the worst was possible- yet he still felt sick to his stomach.

Due to all of his free time without school, Peter had begun showing up to the compound 3-4 times a week, and it was doing that time that he intended on coming out to Tony.

Tuesday had come and Happy was on his way to pick him up and Peter had planned - keyword planned - to tell Tony that day while they were in the labs.

And yet that time never came. He had tried to find a moment throughout the day, when they were eating takeout or when he had been messing his new prototype web shooters, yet he didn’t have the balls to actually do it.

And then the next day came and went, and suddenly this was completely eating away at his conscience and he knew he wasn’t going to see Tony again until Friday, but he had to get it off his chest. So he decided, at 12 o’clock that night, to simply text the man.

PB&J
hey mr.stark, i kinda need to talk to you about something important
read 12:39
tin man 🦅
What’s up kid? Did something
happen?
sent 12:40

PB&J
nothing happened don’t worry
i just wanted to tell you something kinda big
read 12:42
tin man 🦅
Okay, what’s so big that you needed to text me at 12? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier in person kid?

sent 12:44

PB&J

i just wanted to you tell that
fuck
ignore that i just wanted to tell you
i like guys
as well as girls actually im not really sure what i am i just know im not straight

read 12:44
tin man 🦅
Okay then kid. Thanks for sharing that with me, couldn’t have been easy. That’s probably why you didn’t just tell me in person then, huh. I’m not very good at this stuff Pete, but I want you to know that I support you and that won’t change, no matter what. I want you to be able to tell me this stuff without fear.

sent 12:46

PB&J
um wow
thank you so much mr.stark i think we have a water leak my face is pretty darn wet
that means a lot to me you don’t even know

read 12:47
tin man 🦅
Of course, spider-kid. Now we should both get some beauty rest, I know you need it for that growing body and shit. I’ll see you on Friday, okay Pete?

sent 12:49
PB&J of course you definitely need it old man
thank you again seriously
goodnight see you friday 🔥

read 12:50
tin man 🦅
Goodnight, kid. Don’t let the spiders bite.

sent 12:50

The whole thing had been pretty nerve wracking for Peter. Mad he kind of wished he had had the balls to do it in person, but still, he couldn’t have wished for anything. He felt damn near giddy to know that he was fortunate enough to be surrounded by the most loving and accepting people he
could.

And so, even if his life was shit and the universe hated him - at least he had his family to get through it all with. That was all he needed.