Wrong number :/~~Spider-Man

Fluffier than a fish

Tony walked into the kitchen with his mug in hand, preparing to fill it up with some much needed coffee. He'd slept pretty well, a solid 6 hours in a row (contrasting to his usual two or three hour naps he lived off of), but that meant he had a more dragged out awakening.

When he entered, he caught sight of Harley going off about something to do with a robot project, blissfully unaware of the empty room. He was just talking to thin air.

Tony paused a moment, blinking to make sure he didn't just overlook anyone in his slow waking brain, but took note of the noticeably desolate room.

Weird.

Then again, kids these days were crazy, and maybe Harley had an earbud in or something. Tony made his way to the coffee maker, electing not to bring it up until he had at least a semi-functioning social mind.

"Yeah yeah, I was thinking that too. We've already got what we planned done, I don't see why not" Peter's voice entered the room, replying to some offhand comment Harley had made.

Tony swiveled around, looking for the second teenager. He could've sworn..

Yet again he was met with just the one, but Harley had his eyes trained on the ceiling with a dopey grin.

Tony followed his gaze.

"Shit—" he hissed, glad he'd set his mug down, because there was no chance it would've survived crashing into the floor with how hard he jerked.

Peter and Harley's laughter echoed in the room, (or at least it would've if Tony didn't happen to know how to damped them in wide spaces so easily), fingers pointing at the startled billionaire.

Peter sat crossed legged on the ceiling with a granola bar in hand, along with a textbook that seemed to be held in place on the ceiling in front of him.

When the laughter didn't die down immediately, Tony regained his ever so alluring morning annoyance just enough to remember to actually start the coffee maker.

"That shit right there not natural" he defended himself, turning away from the teens.

Through gasping breaths, (Harley's being more aggressive than Peter's cautious snickering), he could hear the liquid begin to empty into his cup.

(I've never used a coffee maker. Sue me).

"Why are you even up there?" He asked accusingly, waiting for his mug to fill, "there are perfectly good cushions down here. Expensive ones, I might add. I'm almost insulted that you'd prefer the ceiling over my perfectly comfortable custom stools".

"Sorry" Peter muttered, leaping down onto the counter.

The laugher calmed down.

Tony made a face of disgust as he watched the barefoot teen dirty up his countertop with his landing, but made no move to point it out in relief that he at least didn't have to worry about the kid dropping down on his head.

"You're no fun" Harley rolled his eyes, shoveling a hefty bite of it cereal into his mouth, the milk running done his chin carelessly.

Tony grimaced further at that.

"You children are disgusting, and what is that—" he pointed to the small item Peter had begun taking a bite out of, freezing the kid in place.

"Is'a granola bar" he still had it half-bitten in his mouth, a face of confusion on as he gracefully stepped to the floor.

"Where the fuck did you get that cheap shit in my house?".

"Hey hey, he is a child Tony! Keep the language to a bearable level! You might scare him" Harley gave a slight pout, going for another spoonful.