Becoming Spider-Man // Son of Stark 1

Chapter 1

"Morning, Pete," Tony said softly as he pulled his son's bedroom curtains open. He glanced across at the fourteen year old's waking form and smiled - he was lucky to have such a wonderful family. Too lucky, he often thought to himself.

"Morning, Dad," mumbled Peter whilst turning onto his side. He ended up going a little too far, and landed on the floor with a thud.

"You alright, kid?" Tony asked. He held his right hand down to his son, pulling him up of the ground. "Nice PJs by the way," he added, after noticing the Iron Man pyjamas Peter was sporting.

"Thanks..." Peter replied, his face turning a shade of crimson. "Clint got them for me."

"Well, I love them, Tony exclaimed - ruffling his hands through Peter's hair. "However, I don't think Pops will be able to deal with two Iron Men in this Tower. To be honest, I'm not completely sure how he deals with just one."

"I'll go get changed then," Peter stated sulkily, but he was stopped by his Dad's grasp on his shoulder: which was forcing him to stop in his tracks.

"I didn't say not to wear them to breakfast, did I? Just that they will probably annoy your Pops... which isn't exactly a bad thing."

The pair strolled into the kitchen. "Hey, Pops," Peter said, sitting down on one of the chairs by the table.

"Morning Peter, have a good night's sleep?" Steve asked, hugging his son for a brief, few seconds before returning to get his breakfast.

"Sure..." Peter replied, looking down at the table, fiddling his fingers as a distraction.

"Okay..." began Steve, realising Peter didn't want to talk about it; then as he noticed his son's choice of clothing, he said in mock anger, "Anthony Stark, what have you done?"

Tony chuckled, "I did nothing. Uncle Bird Brain on the other hand..."

"Hey!" Clint retaliated, dropping from the vents, "He asked me to buy him some awesome pyjamas and they were all out on Hawkeye merch."

"They always are," Sam added, who had just crept into the room without anyone noticing. "Morning y'all."

"Morning," Peter responded, for the second time that day.

"Lovin' the jammies, kid." Sam pointed at the Iron Man pyjamas the teen was wearing and smirked. "Think I could pull them off?"

Tony placed his hand on Peter's shoulder, "Only Stark's can pull off the rocking look of Iron Man."

Steve shook his head, and passed a plate filled with two fried eggs, three sausages, some bacon and an omelet to Peter: "Good thing he's a Stark-Rogers then..."

Tony raised his eyebrows, "What do you mean, Capsicle?"

"I mean," Steve paused and took a breath. "I mean that I don't want our son going 'round the country in a suit running headfirst into danger."

"Like you don't do that," Tony muttered.

"Yes. I do do that. And that's exactly why I don't want Peter doing it. I've seen what happens, when things go wrong. I couldn't let that happen to him."

"You guys know I'm right here, right?" Peter cut in, slowly eating the breakfast that had been put before him.

Tony gave him one of his signature the adults are talking looks, forcing the teen to return to his meal.

"If he wants to be an Iron Man Junior, why shouldn't he be. After all, he's only helping people."

"Tony, if you want to have this talk with me, we'll have it later. Fury called me earlier, found some leads on Bucky, told me to meet him today. Goodbye," Steve said sternly. He was in no mood to argue with his husband, especially over something that involved his son's safety. And anyway, he had more pressing matters on hand: he hadn't seen his old pal's face in forever.