st_arkravinghazelnut | [Tony, Peter, Liz]

Entry tags:

[Tony, Peter, Liz] - Reunion

True to his word, Tony Stark made second contact with Liz well into the afternoon, following their first meeting the night before. After the whirlwind of the previous day's arrival, unsuccessful escape attempts, some drunken antics, and an entire five stages of grief regarding his room assignment, Tony had to really get his head in the game for this show he was about to put on.

"Remember the plan?" Tony hovered behind a clothing rack at the gift shop, clad in a souvenir hoodie (that wasn't there to hide his bed head) and an oversized pair of tinted sunglasses (that also weren't there to hide the bags under his eyes) for disguise. Lastly, he was armed with a mug full of coffee with the inn's logo printed on it in bright pink lettering. He motioned at Liz, or as he called her, his "Co-Conspirator for Operation Spider Ambush."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tony shook his head. Everything he could say about every pain, grievance, or any other conceivable stress the hotel inflicted on him mattered so little in that moment.

"It's only been a week since I last saw you. And here you are. Life is strange like that, I guess." Even having said that, the sheer weight that this Peter seemed to be carrying somehow made it feel like so much longer. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah," Peter says, finally unwrapping his arms from around Tony's body. "It's good to see you, too."

Peter wipes the few remaining tears with the back of his hand and is suddenly so grateful for Tony's presence.

"Were we in space when you last saw me?" he asks, finally, trying to sound steadier than he actually feels.

Tony removed his sunglasses just in time to regard Peter with a brief yet baffled look. "Last time I saw you was over video chat, kid. You were chit chatting about holiday break."

Had space ever come up between the two of them, much less going to it? Tony was a fan of keeping himself planted firmly on terra mater.

"I got this question already. I don't know the exact date, armor development runs on its own schedule, but Christmas is--was--right around the corner."

The redness in Peter's eyes is finally starting to subside. His eyes usually get red whenever he cries.

"It was a few weeks after Homecoming," Peter says. A few weeks after everything happened with the Vulture. "So I guess you showed up from after me."

Peter's trying to form a timeline in his head. If they hadn't gone to space yet, Tony was definitely from before Thanos.

"Were you still working on the same armor you had when you climbed into my window?"

"Something way cooler than that, actually." Tony couldn't keep himself from puffing a bit. "Nanotech."

Words were cheap, he felt. Stepping back a few paces, Tony gestured at the arc reactor he had fitted to his new outfit (why not customize something you grow attached to, after all?) before giving it a firm pat. In a few moments time, the nanoparticles radiated out like a wave to engulf his form in a sleek, optimized version of his familiar Iron Man armor.

Peter was a tech nerd even before he met Tony, so when the nanoparticles neatly the fold over his skin until there's nothing left exposed, his awe is palpable.

"How did you make it?" he asks quickly. "How long have you been working on it? Is it bulky, or is it thinner than your last suit? What about weight? Is it lighter? It looks lighter." He can only imagine tech with a name that included the prefix Nano would be compact and lighter, but he wants confirmation his assumptions are correct.

For one moment, Peter doesn't say anything, and it seems like his long string of questions is finally over. But then, he has one more: "Is it okay if I touch it?"

Peter really wants to touch it.

"Kid, you could wear this. Why don't you find out for yourself?" Tony struck a pose that was skillfully somewhere between heroic and nonchalant. "Nanoparticles are as fluid as an undergrad at a keg party."

He gestured for Peter to come closer. It would have been easy to assume the ever-possessive Tony Stark to be joking, but he was completely sincere.

"Are you sure?" Peter asks uncertainly, making his approach. His parents always had him stay away from anything that could possibly break or shatter because they were expensive and couldn't be replaced. Logically, he knows that even though Tony's suit was both expensive and would almost certainly be difficult to replace with what they had at the inn, it was strong. It'd survive him. Illogically, he's worried he'll do something to mess it up.

In the next moment, the sleek armor was drawn back into the arc reactor in a rolling wave. Tony tugged the bottom of his hoodie up, working it up over his head. "Did I stutter?"

Extended the article of clothing Peter's way, he fought the urge to stick a finger or two in the boy's gaping mouth. "This my one, so no spazzing."

What Tony kept to himself that, in lieu of any proper testing back home, he was always on the lookout to gather more data about his suit. Impressing his protege was nice, and observing Mark 50 from the outside was just a bonus.

When Peter takes the hoodie into hand and it's all he can do to contain the churning ocean of emotions inside of him. He can't believe Tony's letting him actually try it on. And he can't believe that it feels perfectly normal; the material feels a lot like the sports hoodies he found in the thrift stores back home, except unpilled and nicer somehow.

He quickly tugs it on over him, then tentatively looks at Tony. "What do I do now?"

Peter really doesn't want to mess this up.

Tony patted at the empty space on his own chest, prompting Peter to do the same. He wasn't nervous about what was going to come next. He was pretty rigorous with implementing the mechanism for the suit to recognize various bodily dimensions. Ever since Pepper had to don an earlier model in a time of emergency, it was enough to open his mind to the idea of sharing. And, after all, not having a suit made of rigid and individual parts made that design function really shine.

"Careful with that Spidey strength. The arc reactor's a tough bird, but she responds best to love taps."

Peter nods solemnly, then follows Tony's cue, lightly tapping his chest.

It reacts immediately. The suit expands out from that center point, just as it had for Tony a few minutes before. And before long, Peter finds himself encased in a hard, lightweight metal-feeling shell.

Peter holds arms out in front of him, moving them slowly but experimentally, as if to get a feel for it. Then, with the same tentativeness that he had when he first tapped his chest, he reaches out to tap Tony.

Tony observed the clothed skin of his shoulder indent softly as the metal prodded it. Standby Mode as the functionality by default with other users was clearly the wise decision, here.

"How's she handle?" He inquired, the way a father may when lending their child the car.

"It's amazing," Peter says, still experimentally moving around to get a feel for it. "It's like I'm just wearing my regular clothes."

Once he seems satisfied with his testing, he turns and looks over at Tony.

"Can you hit me?" he asks, and immediately afterwards, he realizes how absolutely ridiculous that must sound. "I mean, I can just hit myself," he says quickly, though that sounds just as ridiculous as the first suggestion. "Is it okay if I hit me?"

Peter wants to die of mortification right now. At least his embarrassment is shielded from Tony's eyes by the suit.

"Really gets the red-blooded fighter in you flowing, eh?? Good." Tony laughed over him. He was learning how to deal with Peter's frequent embarrassments by leaning into them.

"They got any dumb souvenir bats in here? Maybe a nine iron." He set about quickly perusing the offerings in the gift shop.

Peter's not 100% sure if Tony is being serious or not, but he still begins looking around the shop anyway.

Because he's 100% serious.

There's three things he identifies as potential test weapons:

1. the broom in the corner
2. the chair behind the cash register
3. one of the metal shelves

Probably not as good as a nine iron or a baseball bat, but one would probably work in a pinch.

"Um," he says, "you find anything?"

"Heads up!" That was all the warning Tony gave the boy before he was descending upon him with a bejweled chalice the length of a grown man's forearm.

With a mighty 'CRASH,' the head of the campy souvenir was shattered over Peter's own in a brilliant sparkling shower of rose-tinted glass and fake diamonds.

Peter doesn't even have a chance to react; he turns, and is just about to open his mouth to say something when Tony's mighty blow strikes true.

And after the glass and faux diamonds shower over him, Peter's reaction is still delayed because --

"I didn't feel anything," Peter says, awed.

He gives the Iron Man helmet an experimental knock. Nothing. Peter feels a bolt of excitement race through him.

"Hit me again," he insists. "With something harder."

"Ah, shit! Hah!" Tony staggered back, his face full of pained laughter as he held his wrist. "God, I felt that one!"

Hardly letting it put a damper on his fun, Tony disappeared behind a rack of sweaters before re-appearing with the abandoned shelf Peter had been eyeing. "Ready for round two? Of course you are--!"

Not one to await a confirmation in the name of Science, Tony swung it right at Peter's cheek, only for it to bounce off and reveal a noticeable warp in the metal.

Once again, nothing. Nothing. He can see it come at him, and his natural response to flinch triggers, but it's as if nothing has hit him at all.

Peter's pretty sure an entire moon could hit him and he wouldn't even register the impact.

"Mr. Stark, you're -- this is --"

Peter can't seem to stop sputtering.

"-- it's amazing, I can't believe you made this!"

Tony merely shrugged as he approached, as if his newest in a long line of technical marvels was not just that. "She's fresh out of the shop, this one."

Tapping the core mounted on the armor's chest, a few moments later and Tony was standing face to face with Peter in his hoodie.

"That's the essence of engineering, kid. You never stop." He tossed the shelf to the side. If he needed to apologize to someone later on, he would. It'd be half assed, but he would. "How's Karen doing these days?"

Peter looks down as the suit transforms back into hoodie. He gives it a light tug, as if testing its tensile strength.

He really hopes that he can be as good at engineering as Tony some day.

"Oh, Karen?" Peter looks up from the soft glow of the reactor. "She's great," he says. "I don't wear the suit much anymore, but sometimes I put on the mask just to talk to her."

"What you do all day if not spending it in the suit?" Tony shifted his weight to his other leg, lazily resting his hands on his hips amidst the wreckage. "Living out the life of a Friendly Neighborhood Captive High Schooler?"

He flipped his sunglasses open, pushing them back over his eyes. Even if he certainly felt more awake now, he wasn't confident he looked it.

"Yeah, basically," Peter admits. "I take lessons from some of the adults here. I run errands sometimes, work on projects, read... I watch a lot of really old movies, too. You ever see Bladerunnner?"

"Uh, only me and every other Gen Xer out there." Tony gave him a firm pat on the arm, nodding for him to strip. "I see you're discovering fine cinema. Some Norse Gods here haven't even seen The Shining. Can you believe that?"

His mind briefly went back to Thor and the night before. That line of thought made him ache, somehow, and he quickly shut it out of mind. "So errands, projects, reading, movies, dating... That's the life, kid."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject