Peter was lucky. he'd made it through several years of not succumbing to peer pressure. While everyone else went out drinking and got high, Peter was webbing himself around the city, stopping muggings, assaults and thefts. Would he have liked to be hanging out with his friends and having fun? Sure. But someone had to keep the people in Queens safe, and Peter feared that if he dragged his eyes away from there for even a moment - anything that happened would be on him.
"And that, Mr. Stark, is why I don't go to parties" Peter explained, as he refilled his web cartridges.
Tony, who was sitting opposite the kid, staring at a 3D projection of the new watch he'd been designing paused, and with a swipe, cast it away. Sighing, he took of his glasses. "Kid, you need to have a life. You can't beat yourself up about everything that happens when you take a break," he said.
Peter's face morphed from one of dejectedness to indignation as he cried, "hey! I have a life."
"Hate to break it to you, but building legos, going to your school clubs and spidermanning don't count as a social life, Pete" Tony said, counting off his fingers. "And watching vine compliations as well."
Peter grumbled something under his breath in response and Tony was pretty sure he caught the word "uncultured" in there somewhere. Tony walked around the work bench and took the webshooters out of Peter's hands. "You need to go out with your friends-" Peter's mouth opened and Tony shushed him. "Ah-that's not a suggestion it's an order. Consider it as part of your internship." Tony, who'd been fidgeting with the webshooters as he spoke held them out to Peter.
Peter nodded silently, taking them from Tony's hands and continuing to work.
So, in hindsight, this was all Tony's fault, Peter thought as he and the rest of the decathlon team relaxed at Betty's place. They were there to prepare for the next round, but so far no one had asked a single review question. In fact, they weren't doing anything school or academic related at all.
"We just won regionals, I think we can afford a little break," Betty said to MJ, who considered this. "Besides, I brought something to help us celebrate!" Betty headed to a small drawer in the TV stand and rifled around before pulling out a ziplock bags with several joints.
"Fuck!" Flash said, his eyes wide in excitement. "Betty! Colour me impressed."
MJ looked over at Peter and Ned, who's eyes were just as wide as Flash's but for a different reason. "Uh, are you sure about this?" Peter said hesitantly, and Flash rolled his eyes.
"Of course you'd pussy out Parker," he said rolling his eyes and turning to Betty. "What else you got?"
She ran over to the kitchen where she unearthed four bottles of cheap, gas-store vodka. "You guys in?" she asked, turning to Ned, Peter and MJ.
You need to go out with your friends, Peter remembered Tony saying. I mean, technically I am out with them ... and I'm pretty sure I'll be fine with my metabolism. A couple drinks should be okay. "You know what? I'm in."
MJ and Ned turned to look at Peter. Ned gave him his "What?" look, while MJ tried to understand when Peter decided to be rebellious. Peter walked over to Betty and grabbed one of the bottles, "got any shot glasses?" he asked her and Betty nodded quickly, pulling out disposable ones from the bag. Peter poured and lined up the shots, before staring at Flash, MJ and Ned, who were still shocked. "Don't tell me you're backing out, Flash" Peter challenged, nudging a shot towards him.
Flash scoffed, standing up and coming to a stop by the kitchen island. "I'm no pussy Parker."
"Hey, pussy is powerful," MJ said joining the others, Ned following behind.
"So, how much do you think you need to drink to get smashed?" Ned asked Peter, who was wandering around in search of food. He knew he was going to get hungry but his metabolism in combination with his munchies was a lot. He felt like he could eat through the stock of a McDonalds.
"I dunno, a lot probably," he replied. He didn't feel smashed, but he was a little fuzzy. "How much we got left?" he asked Ned, who turned to check the coffee table in Betty's living room.
"One and a half more bottles," he said.
Peter grinned.
Happy came to pick him up about twenty minutes later, and Peter had already downed an entire 750 mL bottle of Smirnoff straight - without chasing. Flash clapped him on the back, forcing Peter to stumble forward. Flash grabbed his arms, helping Peter stay upright.
"Gotta go - internship" Peter said, grabbing his backpack and jacket. Fuck, I feel floaty. And relaxed. Ohh, this feels good, Peter thought as he opened Betty's door and headed down the steps to where Happy's car was waiting for him. Peter went to grab the handle but became entranced by the warped image of himself in the chrome reflection.Woah, my face looks so weird. Like a mask. My face is like a mask for my skull. The fuck. "KID! Get in the goddamn car!" Happy yelled, rolling down the window.
"Oh yeah," Peter said, finally grabbing the handle and tugging it open, collapsing in the back and laying across the seats.
"You alright back there?" Happy asked, the partition already up in the car.
"Yeah, m'fine Happy. Let's go internship!" Peter yelled, trying to sound as coherent as possible. He had a feeling that Mr Stark was not the type to take kindly to his underage intern showing up drunk and stoned to work. "WOOHOO internship!" Peter cried, attempting to mimick his usual, upbeat demeanour.
It seemed to fool Happy, who continued to drive along, getting them to the tower within 15 minutes. As they drew nearer to the tower, Peter gnawed at the several bags of chips and crackers he had in his bag, in an attempt to absorb the alcohol he'd drank, and doused himself with some febreeze. Peter hopped out and tapped his card, jumping up and down to sober up.
"Hello Peter," FRIDAY spoke as he stepped into the elevator. "Mr. Stark is waiting for you in his lab."
"Lessgo," Peter said, making a rocket noise with his mouth as the elevator swiftly moved up the first 50 floors before sliding open straight into Tony's lab.
"Hey kid, you doing okay?" Tony asked, looking into a microscope. They'd been working on creating nanotech that would react to the user's brainwaves, thereby protecting them without the user having to program changes to the armour - they'd just think of the change and the armour would do it. Tony was partly inspired after seeing some weird alien shit down in San Francisco, where the tech basically protected itself and in doing so, protected the user.
"Yeah, I'm great!" Peter said, tossing his bag and jacket on to the sofa before wandering over to where his desk was and opening some files on the newest web formula. "What you working on?"
"Bleeding Edge," Tony replied shortly. He'd been working on the new armor since Pepper went away on business a few days ago. Now that she was heading back tonight and Peter was over, Tony wouldn't be able to stay awake as much as he liked to. A silence fell over the lab, and Tony turned to look over his shoulder, and watched with mild interest as Peter rapidly typed away, adding new compounds to the web formula. Ok, he's never this quiet. Something's up.
"You okay kid?" Tony asked, kicking on the ground hard, and sliding his chair over to Peter's desk.
Fuck, he's on to me. "Yeah, I'm fine," Peter said.
"Not hiding any injuries from patrol?" Tony probed and Peter shook his head. Tony nodded, and went back to his station, looking back at Peter every couple of minutes. The kid had his earphones in and was jamming to something as he stared at the computer which was mapping the molecular structures out to test for volatility.
Tony watched him stop what he was doing, "dab" and do a little head nod before speaking. "FRIDAY, turn off his earphones and connect the music to the speakers."
Suddenly, loud music blared from the speakers. A piano with some heavy bass in the background. "BUST DOWN THOTIANA. Pick up and break that shit down!" Peter looked over at Tony, who looked straight up confused. Shrugging, Peter continued to sing, "I wanna see you bust down and bend that shit over!" as he typed away, clapping intermittently.
"What am I listening to?" Tony asked no one in particular.
"Thotiana, by Blueface. Released in 2018. Single from Famous Cryp-" FRIDAY began but she was silenced with a wave from Tony's hand. "What even is this?" he asked Peter who smiled.
"It's trap Mr. Stark. It's good music to turn up to," Peter slurred slightly, as he stared at the screen in front of him, manipulating the compound.
Tony raised an eyebrow, "what does turning up even mean?"
"Turn up," Peter said, sighing. "Means-" don't let him catch you, "-studying."
"Okay," Tony muttered. "These kids just keep getting weirder."
The lab was silent except for the music, which continued to go down Peter's spotify playlist. After first couple songs, Tony actually didn't mind it. The music was quite diverse. One guy sang about how all his friends were dead and pushed him to the edge (relatable, Tony thought), another sang about having horses in the back and another sang about having a mask off(?).
After twenty minutes, Tony heard a loud grumble and Peter reddened slightly. "Hungry kid?" he asked, and Peter nodded.
"How does chinese sound?" he asked, and Peter nodded, before asking FRIDAY to double their usual order. Tony stared back at him, surprised. Peter was usually pretty hesitant about ordering food, mostly because he was a little embarrassed about spending Tony's money.
"What? I'm really hungry. It's all that decathaloning," Peter explained, as he eyed several beakers in front of him.
"Uh-huh," Tony said, still watching the kid. Something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He shrugged, turning back to his work, when suddenly, there was a loud, explosive BANG and the shattering of glass. He whipped around and spotted Peter, hand and head stuck to the desk by his webbing formula. "Kid," Tony yelled, running across the lab, and straight through a plume of smoke, "you alright?"
"mmhmm," Peter groaned, pulling his head off the table, a couple cuts on his face from the glass. "Whoops!"
Tony, after making sure Peter was alright, raised an eyebrow. "Whoops? Whoops? That's all you gotta say?"
Peter winced in pain, "stop yelling. Too loud."
Tony paused and gently placed a hand under the kid's chin, tilting his head up so they were looking eye to eye. "You look out of it kid. Friday, do an analysis."
"Peter seems to be suffering from a marked depression of motor activity. This is likely due to the presence of THC and high alcohol concentration in his blood stream," FRIDAY replied.
"WHAT?!" Tony yelled at the ceiling, ignoring Peter's whimper of pain.
"It appears Peter is high and drunk, sir," FRIDAY replied politely.
"WHAT?" Tony repeated, turning to Peter who tried to smile. "Kid, what the hell?"
"Sorry," Peter mumbled, looking down.
"Why? What were you thinking?" Tony replied, sitting down next to him.
"Internship," Peter muttered and Tony gave him a look that said "explain." "You said to go out with my friends."
Tony felt his stomach sink slightly. He had told the kid that, but he didn't think that Peter would show up to the lab drunk and high, causing an explosion. "Kid, I didn't mean for you to day-drink. And get high. How the hell did you even get this stuff?"
"Decathlon," Peter replied, trying to hide his grin, which Tony was mirroring. "Decathlon get's lit sometimes."
"I can see that," Tony laughed, before coughing hard and looking around at them, the smoke still swirling. "What were you mixing?"
Peter shrugged and pointed at the screen. Tony stood up and peered at it, before sighing. "Sulfur? Really genius? You didn't think about its reactivity?"
"Nah," Peter replied, staring around the room, and tugging at his hand which was still stuck to the desk. "Whoops."
Tony groaned, "FRIDAY, do we need to quarantine the lab?" he asked, already anticipating the answer.
"It would be advisable to remain on lockdown for 24 hours," FRIDAY responded. "I shall notify the rest of the tower's occupants and Ms. Potts, Mrs. Parker, Mr. Rhodes and Mr. Hogan."
Tony groaned, "thanks FRI." He turned back to Peter, who stared back at Tony uncomprehendingly. "You're gonna be the death of me, kid."
Peter shook his head, "Nah. You're not allowed to die. Unless Pepper gives you permission."
Laughing Tony, relaxed slightly. "Looks like its just gonna be you and me for the next 24 hours Peter."
Peter shrugged, "Believe me Mr. Stark, there are worse people to be locked in a room with."
"Amen," Tony replied.
"Big mood," Peter added, causing Tony to give him a confused look.
"Wh- you know what? Nevermind," he said, as they began to clean up the shattered glass, Peter trying to help as best as he could, hand still stuck to the table, covered in webbing. Slowly, they managed to get the bulk of the mess cleaned up, while FRIDAY used the funnels to help the smoke dissipate. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the glass and Tony spotted Happy standing there, looking confused and worried, holding a large remote, tapping it.
Tony nodded and turned to the large dumb waiter he'd installed when he'd built the tower. It was supposed to be for the days when he was stuck in the lab working on projects (he'd usually zone out and forget to eat and sleep), but I guess it was useful for quarantine situations as well. Tony walked over to it, and slid open the door, grabbing the large brown bags of food and bringing them to Peter's table.
"You alright in there boss?" Happy asked, his voice coming through the speakers.
"We're fine, the kid just mixed up some chemicals wrong." Happy gave Tony a questioning look.
"Kid's a genius. how'd he mess up?"
"He's drunk and stoned," Tony supplied and Happy's eyes widened in shock.
"What?"
"You heard me," Tony replied, trying not to laugh. "Don't worry about it, I can take care of a drunk kid."
Happy rolled his eyes, "He's got superpowers."
"Yeah, well I'm Ironman," Tony replied, and Happy shrugged, walking away, likely heading off to go and pick up Pepper from the turned back to the food, and was surprised to find Peter had already laid it out, and was digging into some fried rice and chicken. "Save some for me, kiddo."
"M'sorry I got drunk," Peter said thickly, eyes unable to meet Tony's.
Tony shrugged, "Not me you have to apologize to kid. Just keep the underage drinking and drug consumption to a minimum."
Peter raised an eyebrow, "you're not mad?"
Tony considered this: Am I mad? "No. I mean, I'm a little disappointed and annoyed that you blew up the lab and now we're stuck here. But I'm not mad." He paused, "You know all about the fucked up shit that I've done, so I'm not in a position to judge. Hell, I was doing worse at your age."
Peter was quiet for several minutes, before speaking again. "You were going through a lot, plus being a teenager ain't easy."
"You don't need to justify my shit, kid," Tony said. It wasn't a secret that Tony despised himself before the whole Afghanistan thing. He was a dick. He knew that. Everyone knew that. But he still carried a lot of that guilt over into his new life, post-Afghanistan. And everyone had gotten used to Tony's brand of self-depricating humour, except for Peter. Didn't matter if Tony or someone else said something bad, Peter would justify Tony's actions, and while he liked it at first, he didn't know if that was healthy - Tony wasn't a saint and Peter needed to know that. He was looking up to the wrong guy.
"I'm not," Peter shot back, sounding kind of annoyed. The high must be wearing off, and now he's getting grumpy, Tony thought. "I've been where you are. It sucks ass."
"Watch your language," Tony replied, still thinking about the kid's comment. "And it does suck," he added. "But you became Spider-man. I became an asshole."
"Everyone's a little bit of an asshole. Even I am. I got us stuck here," Peter said, onto his fourth helping of Kung Pao Chicken. "Shit happens, and everyone reacts differently to it. It's what makes us human, our ability to feel things, emotions."
Tony stared at the kid for a moment, "when did you become an expert in psychology?"
Peter paused, "i used to go to therapy," he replied shortly.
Tony nodded, "I tried it. It didn't take."
Peter nodded, "S'not for everyone. I only went for a couple months."
"Your parents," Tony stated, watching Peter fumbling with the chopsticks as he raised a piece of chicken to his mouth.
Peter paused, mouth open as if he were about to correct Tony, before thinking better of it. "Uh- yeah. That."
Tony raised an eyebrow, but didn't decide to probe any further, choosing to tune back into the song currently playing. "What's this?"
"Wild Thoughts," Peter replied. "Rihanna, Bryson Tiller, and DJ Khaled."
Tony nodded along to it, before squinting. "Is that-?"
"Maria Maria, by Santana," Peter said slowly. Tony gave Peter a questioning look, "What? I listen to everything."
"Everything?" Tony challenged.
"Everything," Peter stated.
"Aerosmith?"
"Yes."
"Korn?"
"Yes"
"Fleetwood Mac?"
"May's favourite."
"Blondie?"
"Ben's favourite."
"Queen?"
"My favourite," Peter said, shrugging. "Freddie's an icon, and Brian's practically an astrophysicist and can play the guitar like a motherfucker."
Tony smirked at the kid's language, choosing not to reprimand him,"Debussy?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Moonlight Sonata."
"Fuck, you weren't kidding."
"Nope," Peter replied, shaking his head. "You don't listen to much new music, do you?"
Tony shook his head, "I'm too busy designing the technology of the future."
"So worried about the future, you don't realize your already in it," Peter recited to Tony, who raised an eyebrow. "Something May says all the time," he said, noticing Tony's questioning look.
"Stoned Peter is a philosopher, too" Tony quipped and Peter smiled. "You've got a lot of years in you kid," he said.
Peter shook his head, "Not so much years. More like shitty cards." Peter paused, "You think you're gonna be kinda old when you bury your parents, but no one tells you you're gonna be four. No one tells you that you're gonna grow up quicker than you need to when you're eight, but you have to. No one's gonna tell you that at age 14, you're gonna get superpowers, and you're gonna hold your second father as he dies. Shit happens. You just gotta pick yourself up and move on."
Tony waited a moment before speaking, Peter's words lingering in the air. "Sometimes it's hard to move on," Tony said, thinking about how he'd reacted when Zemo showed him the video of the Winter Soldier killing his mother.
Peter nodded, "Yeah. But eventually you do. And you know you've moved on cause it doesn't hurt so much to look back." He waited before speaking some more, "When my parents died, I didn't cry." Tony turned to Peter who nodded, "May and Ben thought it was weird, but they chalked it up to me not fully understanding what was going on - which is true. But, the thing is, it hurts 'cause I was so little that the earliest and only memory I have of my parents is when I buried them. It's fucked up, I know."
Tony clicked his tongue, "Never thought about it like that, kid."
"S'okay. Everyone has it different," Peter explained. "All you gotta do is be nice. That's really the only thing you should be doing, to be honest."
"Wouldn't need superheroes then, would we?" Tony added. "World would be a hell of a lot more peaceful. I could finally rest."
Peter scoffed, "I seriously doubt that. You've never rested a day in your life, 'cause the devil never rests."
Tony rolled his eyes, "I'm not the Devil, kid. He works in Hell's Kitchen."
Peter's eyes widened, "You know about Daredevil?"
Tony nodded, "I keep an eye out for promising talent. That's what brought you to me."
"Uhm, no. I distinctly remember it bringing you to me," Peter replied. "Do I need to get May to bring you more walnut date loaf? Maybe it'll jog your old man memory?"
"Okay, smartass," Tony laughed, glad the conversation had moved to something a little more lighthearted. "How did you hear about him?"
Peter rolled his eyes, "I might work in Queens mostly, but sometimes I venture out to the island." He paused, "I met them once."
Tony's chopsticks fell from his hands, "You met him?"
Peter nodded, "Nice person. Gave me some tips."
Tony smirked, "Like how to micromanage the shit out of ten blocks of lower manhattan?
"They've set their self a realistic goal," Peter said defensively.
"Who else have you met out there?" Tony asked, "that you've conveniently forgotten to tell me about?"
"Luke Cage. Jessica Jones. Daredevil, Punisher, Cloak and Dagger" Peter listed, ticking names off his fingers.
"Wait, what?" Tony said, sounding shocked. "You've been running your own team-ups?'
Peter reddened slightly, "It's not like I'll be teaming up with the Avengers at any point," he replied. "Plus they're all really nice."
"I haven't heard of a couple of them. Cloak and Dagger?" Tony asked.
"It's a long story," Peter said. "And I don't really remember much of it right now."
Tony nodded, "and Punisher? How do you know him? He's notoriously angry. Worse than Bruce during one of his Hulk episodes ... God I miss that great big green bastard," Tony added fondly.
Peter rolled his eyes, "Can't tell you. Made them a promise."
"You're gonna put a promise to the Punisher over being honest with me? You wound me," Tony said, mimicking a knife-would in his chest with his chopsticks.
"Hey, knife wounds are nothing to joke about. They hurt like a butt-cheek on a stick," Peter replied, laughing to himself.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Is this one of those vine references that I'm too old to understand?"
"Ah, so you admit that you're old," Peter replied, grinning widely.
"Looks like your metabolism's starting to kick in some more," Tony said, watching the kid with mild interest. His eyes didn't look as dilated as they did earlier. "How're you feeling?"
"I dunno, kinda ... floopy, I guess" Peter said, thinking hard. "Still hungry though," he added, eyeing the last of the chilli chicken.
Tony pushed the carton towards him. "I gave up on trying to meet your food consumption ages ago. Just watching you makes me need some Pepto." Tony paused, before asking his next question, hoping it wouldn't put the kid off. "Don't people at your school notice? Like you eat a ton, but you're still pretty skinny."
Peter considered this, "Well. I know MJ noticed, but I just told her that I started going to the gym here cause it's free. May just thought it was hormones and stuff, which I guess is what everyone else must be thinking. Flash thinks I'm juicing," here he and Tony laughed. "I - uh - was playing basketball and my senses were in overdrive, so I was dodging everyone. Then I remembered I had to be really bad at it, so I just straight up fell over and face planted."
Tony squinted at the kid. "Really? And everyone just bought it."
"I used to be super clumsy, so yes, they did," Peter replied. "I got that whole Clark Kent thing going on. No one will ever know."
Tony snapped his fingers. "Hate to break it to you, but you're terrible at keeping secrets. Remember when Aunt Hottie found out?"
Peter rolled his eyes, "May finding out was an accident."
Tony scoffed, "Imagine what she's gonna do when she finds out about this?"
Peter's eyes widened, "You wouldn't. May-May can't find out about this. She'd kill me."
Tony waved it aside, "I don't think she'd be that mad. Everyone deserves a break now and again. Hell, I've been trying to get you to take a break since the day I met you."
Peter nodded. "I want to take a break," he explained, sounding desperate for one, "but crime never sleeps."
"You're a kid, Pete. No one expects you to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders," Tony argued. "That's what I'm here for."
Peter smiled, "I've never been one to ask for help, Mr. Stark. I like to think of my self as the-"
"'Suffer in silence' type," they said in unison. Tony placed a hand on Peter's leg, "I know first-hand that its a lonely way to live and it leads to more problems than it's worth."
"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter replied quietly, his brow furrowed in thought after his mentor's words.
"Anytime."