Prompt by @omgsuppylove: Oh how about "I'll do anything for you. Anything." ? Love you <3 Prompt by @totallynotanartblog: They dont deserve you
Hey guys, I hope y'all enjoy this combined prompt, I had a ton of fun writing this one :D please please please let me know what you think, it really does mean a whole lot and *wink wink* might even motivate me to write more *wink wink* XD I love you guys!
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Peter tries in vain to keep his tears at bay as he walks out of the elevator.
His body trembles, and he wraps his arms around his torso, curling his chin toward his chest as he shuffles across the threshold. Today had not been a very good day.
Flash had been on him all day, calling him names and kicking him as he walked down the hallway, hitting Peter's lunch out of his hands and has sent the sandwich skidding across the floor.
Ned had offered to split his own lunch, but Peter had refused, instead choosing to eat the little bit of chips that survived the fall. The teen curses his past-self, his stomach rumbling as he passes the fridge, but he can't risk stopping right now.
He doesn't want his dad to see how upset he is.
Not when the man was still mad at him for his Spider-Man stunt last weekend.
Sniffling, the young Stark ignores the tears that continue to spill down his cheeks, eyes widening when he hears faint footsteps from down the hall. He quickened his pace, ducking his head further into his chest.
Peter is just about to push his bedroom door open when his father's voice freezes him in his tracks.
"Hey, buddy." Tony says as he walks past the boy, stopping to rest a warm hand against his shoulder. "How was school? Did your Spanish test go okay? I know you were worried about that."
Peter just nods, not trusting himself to speak. Keeping his head down, the boy quickly steps out from under Tony's hold and goes into his room, lightly pushing his door shut behind him. He can hear his dad let out a sigh, can feel him hovering as he contemplates knocking, shifting on his feet.
Finally, Tony seems to come to a decision.
"Peter?" He calls softly through the wood, the thump of his hand against the doors startling Peter as he drops his book bag to the floor. "Are you hungry, kiddie? Does spaghetti sound good?"
Swallowing, Peter nods before realizing his dad can't see him. His stomach clenches at the mention of food and the boy grimaces. "Y-yeah, that's fine."
A pause, before Tony knocks again. "Can I come in, Bambi?"
Peter has to bite his lip to stifle a sob, blinking back tears at the softness of his father's voice. Clenching his hands tightly, the teen shakes his head.
"N-No!" He calls, frowning in self-anger as his voice cracks. "I'm g-getting changed."
"Okay." Tony says, and Peter can imagine him holding up his hands in surrender. "Okay, bud. I'm gonna go start dinner. Let me know if you need anything, alright?"
Wiping away at his continued flow of tears, Peter sniffs before answering. "Okay."
Turning around, the spiderling listens as Tony continues to hover outside of his door for a few more seconds, as the man lets out another sigh before walking the rest of the way down the hall.
Now alone, Peter breaks into sobs once more, his limbs trembling as he strips himself of his sweater and jeans.
Sucking in gigantic gulps of air, the teen quickly throws on a pair of fluffy night pants, grabbing one of his father's old MIT hoodies and pulling that over his head. The soft, oversized cotton pools at his hands and brings his palms up to his face, the smell of laundry detergent and something distinctly safe causing more tears to spill down his cheeks.
Walking into his bathroom, the boy splashes warm water on his face, wiping away the excess with his towel.
Peter leaves quickly, before he can get a good look at his own blotchy face and bloodshot eyes.
Pulling the hood up, Peter stuffs his now shaking hands into his pockets and opens his door, the wood creaking. Creeping out into the hall, the spiderling makes his way towards the kitchen, the carpet soft under his feet.
Looking around the corner, the boy swallows as he catches sight of Tony, the genius standing near the stove and stirring a large pot of spaghetti sauce. Shuffling into the room, Peter keeps his gaze on his toes, walking over to the table and pulling his normal chair out.
"Hey, Pete." Tony greets him just as he sits down. "How are you feeling?"
Peter twists his fingers together, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. "Fine."
Tony shoots him a look but the young Stark doesn't lift his head, instead choosing to stare intensely at his lap. A sudden hand on his shoulder startles the teen, however, and his head shoots up. A choked off gasp slips past his dry lips as his dad's warm, concerned eyes find his.
"We talked about the lying, Peter." Tony says, but there is no real heat behind his words.
Peter frowns, looking back down. "I'm not lying."
The grip on his shoulder tightens a little, and Peter has to blink back more tears. A gentle hand cups his chin, tilts his face up so that he is forced to meet Tony's gaze once more. His dad frowns now, smoothing his thumb across Peter's cheek.
"Don't even play that game with me, kiddo." The superhero whispers. "I know something's not right with you."
"I'm fine." Peter says, even though he can feel his own resolve cracking under the weight of his father's protective eyes.
Tony hums. "You know that I'll do anything for you, right?"
Peter nods, reaching up to grip at his father's sleeve. "O-Of course, Dad."
"Then why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
Peter opens his mouth to deny it, to deny that there is anything wrong, to say that he is fine and for Tony to leave it alone. But one look, one glance at the man's face, his open expression and gentle smile, sends Peter over the edge.
He sobs, the cries busting out of him like water from a spicket and Tony catches him as he falls forward, burying his face into his dad's chest and wrapping his trembling arms around the man's neck. Tony just holds him closer, running a soothing hand through his hair.
"Shh, baby." Tony says, his voice a deep rumble against Peter's cheek. "Shh, hey. It's okay, it's alright, buddy. I'm here, I'm right here, shh."
"Today--" Peter sobs, curling closer. "--Today was so hard, Dad. And-And I'm just so tired."
"I know, buddy." Tony whispers. "I know and I'm so sorry. I wish I could take all of that away."
Peter just cries harder, pushing his chair as close to Tony as possible and clinging to him. The billionaire responds by leaning down, cupping his son's face in his hands, his palms warm, and pressing his lips repeatedly against the spiderling's forehead and temples.
"They don't deserve you, bambino." Tony says over and over between kisses. "They don't deserve to be in the same room as you, to breathe the same air or sit in the same chairs. You, Peter Anthony Stark, you are the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me."
"I'm sorry that-that I'm such a screw up." Peter whispers, voice ragged. "I'm sorry that I-I can't just be normal!"
Tony lifts Peter's face up, forces the boy to look him in the eyes. "I never want to hear you talk about yourself like that again."
Peter swallows. "But--"
"No." Tony jolts him, shifts so that Peter can see the barely visible flecks of gold in his eyes. "No. You are my son, my child, and I will not have anyone-- not even yourself-- talk like that. Do you understand, Petey-Pie?"
Too overcome with emotions, some the boy can't even name, Peter just nods. He stuffs his face back against the genius's chest, nuzzles closer so that he can listen to Tony's heartbeat. Tony just hugs him closer, runs one hand through his son's hair and uses the other to brush away the tears that still fall.
They are silent for a few minutes, the only sounds being their combined breathing and the slight simmer of the stove as the spaghetti sauce boils.
Then Peter's stomach growls and both father and son burst out in laughter.
"S-Sorry." Peter says in-between chuckles. "I guess I am really hungry after all."
Tony laughs again, stepping away from his son with one final squeeze. "Let's get you fed before your stomach commits anarchy, huh?"
The genius doesn't even ask why Peter is so hungry and for that, the spiderling is grateful.
"Should I get the noodles?" The teen asks, standing up with slightly shaky legs.
Tony shakes his head, however, moving closer to gentle push his son back into his chair, ruffling his curls. "Nope, kiddo. You're gonna sit there and let your old man treat you to a good dinner."
"And desert?"
"Well, of course! What do you take me for, buddy?"
Peter smirks. "And a movie?"
Tony pretends to think about it, tapping his chin as he grabs a large pot from the cabinet and fills it with water. Peter just smiles at him, wiping away the dry tears from his still red cheeks.
"Depends, buddy." The billionaire says as puts the pot on the stove, grabbing a spoon to stir. "What movie are we talking about here?"
"Brave." Peter responds, making his doe eyes extra wide. "Please?"
The boy can see his father try and fight it, can see the man attempt to keep a straight face as he turns back around to face Peter. It isn't until he is looking directly at Peter's shit eating grin that the man allows himself to laugh.
"Come on, bambino." The superhero practically whines, gesturing at a now giggling Peter with the wooden spoon. "That's cheating."
Peter shrugs. "It works though."
"Yeah," Tony says with a now gentle smile. "Yeah, it does."