st_arkravinghazelnut

“You know, I’d really like to start this out cold.” Tony began as Peter made himself comfortable in his rocky abode, and he reached for the phone. “But this is a two-milkshake job.”

The No Dairy, No Red Meat, and No Gluten rules sat woefully forgotten under the pile of Tony Stark’s vices. He had resorted to theorizing that Thor had passed along some metabolic tolerance by way of exposure.

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st_arkravinghazelnut

The corners of Tony's lips pulled, now staring right into the boy's eyes as they did. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say--no promises to make, no false assurances to offer. Instead, he pulled Peter in by the shoulders and held him.

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st_arkintern

Peter's arms wrap around Tony's and he buries his face into his shoulder. He wants to say something to fill that silence again, but when he tries, nothing comes.

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st_arkravinghazelnut

After holding Peter’s (now only slightly smaller) form until his arms grew fatigued, he drew back at brushed away a few stray strands of hair from his son’s misty eyes.

“I love you, Pete. Few things I’ve loved more.”

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st_arkintern

Peter struggles to hold back the tears, but even Tony's words are making it really hard for him.

"I know," he says quietly. "I love you, too."

He pulls back an arm to wipe away the tears with the back of one hand. "You know," he says, once he's wiped them away, "I'm gonna try hard to save everybody when I get back. That's my responsibility now."

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st_arkravinghazelnut

“Unfortunately.” Tony’s hand slid to the back of the boy’s head, pressing his forehead into his shoulder. Superhero or no, Spider-Man was his boy.

“You won’t be going it alone. You’re the best out of all of us, Pete.”

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st_arkintern

"I'll try to be," Peter says, letting Tony's head anchor his there.

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st_arkravinghazelnut

As Tony held him and Peter clung, he was struck with a vision of what could have been—holding Peter throughout his childhood. Encouraging him. All the awkward pitfalls. Learning his favorite meals and all his little daily quirks.

Then, it suddenly shifted to a vision of the young man embarking on his college career. Their first drink outside the Madonna Inn walls. Peter panicking over the birth of his own child—

So many things that would never be and so many things that filled Tony with hope.

“Can I ask you something, Pete?”

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st_arkintern

Peter sniffles. "Yeah."

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st_arkravinghazelnut

His shoulder had grown wet, but still, Tony kept him close. “I want to know everything you did growing up. With your dad. With Ben. The fun things.”

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st_arkintern

Peter nods, his face still pressed against Tony's shoulder. "Yeah," he says. "I'll tell you whenever you want me to."

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st_arkravinghazelnut

“How about now?” Tony held out his hand and made a little plucking motion and WALL-E was quick on the trigger, presenting a tissue box between in his jaw.

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st_arkintern

"Yeah," Peter says, peeling himself away from Tony's shoulder. He looks away for a second, runs the back of his hand over his eyes again, then reaches for a tissue.

Where does he even start? He's not even sure.

"My dad and I, we used to cook together on Sundays," he says. "It was always Italian. Ben and May would come over and all of us, we'd eat together. I'd play with my LEGOs while the adults had coffee but sometimes Ben would sit with me and we'd build something together."

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st_arkravinghazelnut

“That where the Star Wars rig came from?” He immediately recalled Peter’s room.

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st_arkintern

"I actually got it last year at Easter," Peter says. "Ned and I finished building it together around the same time everything was happening with the Vulture."

Peter blows his nose.

"We didn't really have money for big LEGO sets, so I just made stuff out of loose bricks mom picked up for me from Goodwill. Ben and I photographed everything we made together and he'd print it out and put it on his fridge at home."

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st_arkravinghazelnut

Tony leaned forward on his knees, watching Peter as he reminisced. “My dad and I...we’d work on projects off and on. Cars, mostly. Mom would take pictures, keep them in her own scrap book.”

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st_arkintern

Peter crumples the tissue in his hand. "You and your dad... you didn't really get along, right?" That was the impression he had gotten from the BARF footage, anyway.

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st_arkravinghazelnut

“More often than not, no.” Tony spoke of it casually, though the memories of his father’s earlier visit struck, making him forget what he’d been about to add.

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st_arkintern

"I'm sorry," Peter says. "My Dad and I, we basically always got along. He only really ever yelled at me once and that was when I was doing something dangerous and stupid and he was worried I was going to get hurt and then I did. Had to get eighteen stitches right here."

He runs a finger over the scar on the back of his head.

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st_arkravinghazelnut

“That’s the way dad’s are.” He gave a knowing shrug. “They care. They watch. They know what’s best, god bless them.” He added the last bit through partially grit teeth.

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st_arkintern

"Yeah, most of the time. Not all of it."

Peter looks up at Tony, tissue still balled up in his hand. "What else did you and your dad do?"

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st_arkravinghazelnut

His cheeky smirk softened. “Less and less as the years went on. He got old. Tired. Busy. ...Don’t get me wrong, he was always all three, but...he was real good at keeping his distance. I think he stopped knowing how to do much else.”

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st_arkintern

"It kinda reminds me of that old Harry Chapin song," Peter says, thinking back to that lazy day he and Quill spent listening to the music Quill picked out. "Quill played it for me once. It's called Cat's in the Cradle or something."

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st_arkravinghazelnut

’Little boy blue and the man in the moon
"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when"
But we'll get together then
You know we'll have a good time then’

“Pete. Listen closely.” Tony reached up to grip Peter’s shoulder. “Mr. Stark—he loves you. Once he, ah, forcibly extricates his head from his ass, you’ll see it. You both have your lives ahead of you in a world far, far wider than the one we’re in now.”