Summary: Peter's having a very bad day. But maybe, just maybe, at the end of the day it isn't as bad as he first thought it was.
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Peter wasn't having a great day, per say. Flash had been mocking him the whole day, he had missed a class for an important robbery happening nearby, in which he was also hurt with no one to help him, and then he had lost his backpack (and his phone that had been in it) again.
He tried hard to look happy as he entered the car Tony always sent to pick him up.
"Hi, Happy!" Peter said, hoping- begging internally that the man wouldn't shut him off that day. He really needed someone, anyone.
The divider rolled up.
Peter looked down in sadness, holding back tears.
What had he done wrong? He couldn't think of anything that explained why Flash was so hateful, or why his teacher was so harsh after he came bleeding into class after no one picked up the phone to help him, or why people kept stealing his bag every time he went out of his way to save their asses, or why Happy didn't give him a second chance when he tried his best.
His bleak thoughts accompanied him the whole way to Stark Towers.
"Thank you, Happy," Peter said, though he knew Happy wasn't listening.
The teen made his way through the front gate and headed to the private elevator, only to be stopped by a new guard.
"You can't be here."
Peter looked down. He wanted to cry. "I'm supposed to be."
"This is not a place to joke around, kid. You need to leave."
He looked at the guard, his eyes shining but not in his usual way, before sighing and lightly pushing him to the side. He scanned his badge and hand, and the screen lit up in green. The guard seemed taken aback and a bit scared, but Peter didn't look back at him (nor up, actually) as he went inside the elevator and let Friday take him to the penthouse.
The elevator doors opened up to show the penthouse, as expected, but no one in it.
"Is anyone in here?" Peter called out, directing his question both at the empty space and to Friday.
"There's no one currently in the penthouse, Peter," the AI contributed.
Peter looked down once again. "Is Mr. Stark in his lab?"
There was a pause.
"Mr. Stark is not in the building."
A single tear made its way down Peter's left cheek.
"Okay," he said weakly. "That's okay."
Defeatedly, he sat down on the couch, wondering if he was even supposed to be there at all.
•××ו
It had been two hours before anyone appeared at the penthouse.
Peter lay on the couch; he had cried himself to sleep. And that's how the Avengers found him.
"Hi, Pete!" Clint said brightly, though he seemed tired.
"Hey, маленький паук," Nat said softly.
They all greeted him with happiness and affection, but they had yet to see his tear stained face and bloody shirt.
"Hi," was the Peter's slightly broken response. "Was I supposed to come today?"
They looked at each other in confusion before noticing the teen's appearance and gaping for half a second.
Natasha run to his side, immediately cutting his shirt to see and attend the wound as she frantically asked, "Is everything okay? Peter, what happened?"
The others weren't left behind as they all approached him with concern lacing their features, but leaving space for the ex-assassin to take care of the wound comfortably.
Peter stared at the floor. "You didn't pick up," he whispered. It was mostly to himself, to start getting used to the idea of them not caring about him as be thought he should. He hadn't intended it that way, but a few of them heard. "Where were you?" This time, he asked a little louder.
"We were in an emergency mission, we had no way of contacting anyone," Steve told him. Due to his enhanced hearing, he had heard what the teen had whispered, and the pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place for him. He was worried about it.
"But we're back now and we will take care of you, alright?" Nat said, finishing bandaging the wound and giving Peter a look that left no room for arguments. Now feeling a little better because of their care, Peter nodded.
They spent an hour like that, bonding with each other and taking care of Peter to the best of their abilities, making him feel loved and cared for.
"Peter, boss is back. He's calling you to his lab," Friday said out of the blue.
The team members gave the teen encouraging smiles, so Peter quietly headed to the elevator (not before putting on a new shirt). A little residual amount of sadness came back to him as he did so. Why had Mr. Stark been gone? Why had he missed their weekly lab afternoon without even telling him? Was he that unimportant?
The elevator doors opened up for Peter to see his mentor. This time, unlike any other, another teenager was with him.
Had Peter been replaced? He wanted to feel betrayed or hurt, but he could understand the decision. This new teen looked like a real genius, so it made sense.
But Peter had to stare. Because that boy was probably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He couldn't be mad at them.
"Hiya, Pete! This is Harley!"
"Hi, Mr. Stark!" Peter said, Tony's excitement making his mood a little lighter. "Hi, Harley!"
No, he didn't blush, who told you that?
"Hi, Peter," Harley said with a little smile.
"So, I met this guy by invading his house. Then he threatened me with a potato gun." Tony smiled.
Peter stared, waiting. "Wait, is that it? That's the story of how you two met?" They both nodded. "Alright I guess." Peter tilted his head to the side slightly in confusion.
A small "awww" was heard from Harley.
"He's adorable, isn't he?" Tony commented in amusement.
"Yeah, he is," Harley agreed. Peter did not blush. Nope.
There was a minuscule pause in which Peter and Harley looked at each other, while Tony kept being oblivious.
"It was time the two most annoying teenagers out there met," he told them with a smile, but they both knew he said it fondly.
Harley took a second to look down at himself and then at Peter, only then turning to the billionaire again. "Don't you mean awesome, old man? Because hell yeah we both are."
"Sure, Harls. Whatever lets you sleep at night."
"Oh, so I'm not awesome now?" Peter asked, feigning offense. "You wound me!"
"You'd be awesome if you answered your texts, kid. I sent you five telling you to come later because I was going to pick up Harley," Tony said with a small laugh.
Peter opened his mouth but didn't say anything. So Tony hadn't been ignoring him? He hadn't forgotten about him, nor gotten tired of him, nor replaced him?
A smile started forming in his lips as he replied, "You'll have to buy me one, if you want me to get your texts in the first place."
He didn't mean it seriously, but Tony frowned at him and opened a drawer, taking out a new Stark Phone and handing it to him as if it weren't worth thousands of dollars.
"It was a joke," Peter deadpanned. Tony shrugged and took the phone back.
"Where's your phone, then?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The real question is: what's your phone number?" Harley asked.
No, Peter didn't blush. Why do you keep insisting on that?
Peter's eyes didn't stray from Tony's, though. "Okay, it may or may not have been stolen today."
As Tony groaned, Harley looked panicked and approached the other teen.
"Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" he fussed, all traces of amusement far gone.
"I'm fine, I swear!"
Harley narrowed his eyes. "The bandage on your shoulder begs to differ."
At a moments notice, Tony was by his side too. "Peter! What have I told you about getting hurt and not calling anyone?" They ignored Harley's confusion and panic.
"I did call through the suit! But no one picked up. The others were on a mission and I guess you didn't have reception wherever you were picking Harley from. Then later I just didn't have a phone." Peter crossed his arms. The new Stark phone from before was shoved into his hands once again.
"Now you do. And I'm sorry I wasn't there." Tony said it with an offhanded tone, but they both knew it was anything but that.
"It's fine. But-" Peter opened his arms- "you owe me a hug." Tony rolled his eyes and hugged the teen, the smile tugging at his lips betraying his fake annoyance.
"Hold up, what's going on?" Harley asked with a confused frown in his face.
"He's Spider-Man," the billionaire clarified. Peter didn't mind him telling Harley, he actually kind of liked the fact that he would know from the very beginning so there would be no need for lies.
Harley widened his eyes a bit, staring at Peter with newfound curiosity. "How is it that he just got even hotter?" he muttered under his breath.
This time, the blush was undeniable. Peter coughed. "Super hearing."
It was Harley's turn to blush. "Oh."
Silence.
"But I meant it."
Peter smiled shyly. Maybe the day wasn't as bad as he had first thought.