Chapter Text
“Peter Parker. You owe me something, do you not?”
Peter huffed, evidencing his exasperation as he adjusted, clawing through his bag until he returned with a crumpled up, stained piece of paper, the signature of his aunt just barely visible from the way it had been tossed into his bag earlier that morning. He handed it to Mr Harrington, not waiting for a response before he padded further into the classroom, taking a seat next to M.J.
“Perfect,” Mr Harrington said, clapping his hands together as he placed the signature slip on a pile with the others. “That’s all of them. Barely short of the deadline, again, Mr Parker.”
“Why do you even need a permission slip?” Peter turned to his left, as Ned sat down in the chair beside him, slipping his backpack onto the floor. “You go there after school everyday, don’t you? You should be giving us the tour.” Peter only sighed, words feeling like too much, as he all but fell onto the desk, burying his head in his arms.
There were sniggers at the back of the classroom, most likely from the lips of Flash Thompson and his cronies, but Peter ignored them. They had been finding ways to humiliate him from the time when he was still a snotty kid with asthma and no chance at doing anything noteworthy. The upcoming schedule for the Decathlon Team only added fuel to the fire.
Mr Harrington coughed loudly, seizing the attention of the students as he stood to face them. Peter was always the last one into the club meeting after school. Most of the time he was able to blame Spider-man for his poor attendance, but days like today he just couldn’t be bothered, not when he knew his reputation and how being a vigilante meant he had no chance to redeem himself anyway.
“I received an email from the friendly team at Stark Industries last night, with rules and regulations they would like me to go over with you for your field trip,” Mr Harrington began. Peter could feel eyes piercing at the back of his head, and he was suddenly very annoyed at M.J. for picking seats right at the front. “They’re very thorough with their rules, I mean this is basically an entire lecture, so this will presumably take the entire club session. And then I won’t be seeing you guys until the trip on Thursday, so listen hard.”
Stark Industries. Peter buried himself further into his arms, as though to hide further into his wallowing. His internship had begun there approximately eight months ago, although it hadn’t been much of an internship at first as much as Tony Stark keeping an eye on the young vigilante. It had morphed over the months however, once Tony caught an eye on the intelligence and comprehension of Peter Parker that he was officially allowed to act like a real intern.
The whispers of doubt from his classmates had never disappeared, no matter how many months had passed since Peter first brought up his internship. It made sense, he supposed, because why would Stark Industries hire a boy like him? He was only glad his teachers must have the paperwork and evidence that Tony would’ve submitted, at least they must believe him.
Peter has spoken to Tony about his classmates' suspicions before, in the lab after a long day of accusations being thrown at Peter about him faking the internship. The billionaire had only laughed, not bothering to look up from the machine on his desk. “Why do they matter?” he said, the subject of the conversation being immediately dismissed.
A hand was raised. “Sir, are we going to be seeing any interns during the field trip?” Peter could practically hear the spite dripping from Flash’s question.
“Almost certainly,” Mr Harrington responded almost instantly, his gaze sitting on the glow of his computer screen. “There are several lab tours in the schedule, and an opportunity for an actual Q&A with two of the senior interns. But we need to remember we’re there on a field trip, not to disrupt the time of working interns.”
“Maybe they can tell us all about Parker’s internship,” Flash said, leaning forward in his seat to grab the back of Peter’s hoodie. “I bet all the interns love you, Penis.” Peter only felt his stomach drop, once again, not bothering to raise his head from the desk. He had never been below Floor 80 in the Tower, the floors that Tony actually occupied. None of the interns would know his face.
Flash tugged harshly on his hood, before landing back in his chair, the arrogant smirk on his face being almost audible. Peter hated him so, so much.
“Don’t worry,” Ned whispered into Peter’s ear. “Flash is going to be so surprised when the interns prove him wrong.” Yeah right.
Ned and M.J were the only ones that knew the true nature of the internship, that it wasn’t a real internship at all but rather essentially scheduled bonding time between Iron Man and Spider-man. That he hadn’t even been to the intern labs yet. Ned had really never understood that Peter wasn’t an actual intern, he hadn’t been in the labs that weren’t used by Tony Stark himself and he didn’t even really know where the canteen was, and Peter bit his tongue whenever his friend brought it up. He didn’t want to admit he was truly just a lame intern who liked hiding in the dark with another lame, slightly older man who also hated the sun.
“I’m going to read the rules out to make sure nobody gets arrested on Thursday,” Mr Harrington cut into the tension without awareness, pushing his glasses further up his nose as he turned his attention fully towards his computer. “They seem to be very serious about all this, so don’t say anything or do anything you wouldn’t in an airport security, okay?”
Peter knew somewhat about the security at Stark Industries. There were several levels of clearance given depending on your role at the tower, presented by small, colourful badges and matching lanyards that were required to be worn at all times. Peter wasn’t even quite sure what clearance level he was, but he’d never been required to wear a badge and didn’t seem to have an issue getting onto any floors, although admittedly he hadn’t tried going beyond Tony’s labs, or the penthouse.
“It’s mostly just regular rules. Don’t touch anything without asking, don’t go anywhere without an intern or member of staff accompanying you - that’s important, I don’t want any repeats of last time,” Mr Harrington read out, and Peter groaned quietly into his arms. “Always wear your badge, remember to treat everybody in a polite and respectful manner, you’re going to have to sign some NDAs in case of injury, don’t touch anything, do not enter any labs without permission, if you want to touch something the answer is no.” He paused, leaning back in his chair as though to observe the entire screen. It was almost ironic, Peter thought, that Tony Stark, a man who absolutely hated following the rules, would have so many rules for simply taking a field trip to his own company.
M.J raised her hand. “Is this all in the letter we took home?”
Mr Harrington nodded. “Yep. So please read it guys, I don’t want to have to call any of your parents to come collect you before the end of the day.” Peter could only sigh with relief, finally removing himself from his cocoon to offer M.J a fatigued smile, which she had the courtesy to respond to with a rolling of eyes, although she couldn’t quite hide the small smile that appeared on her lips.
What felt like an hour but could’ve been any amount of time really passed before eventually Mr Harrington tore his eyes away from the screen, from all the rules that happened to extend over three different emails and five different files to his students. Ned audibly sighed as Mr Harrington began wrapping up the club meeting, turning to his best friend.
“Do you want to come to mine after this?” he whispered, although even without his enhanced hearing Peter wasn’t sure he would ever call it whispering, leaning in. “My mom’s making spaghetti for dinner and I just got the new LEGO Star Wars set for my birthday and we haven’t watched The Empire Strikes Back in at least a month.”
A year and a half ago, Peter would’ve jumped at the opportunity to hang out with his nerdy best friend after school and enjoy their nerdy interests together. But a year and a half ago, Peter also didn’t have patrols, a secret identity and an internship to worry about. “I can’t today dude,” he said, not keeping the disappointment from his voice. “Y’know, with.. everything.”
Ned’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah, your internship,” he whispered once again, and Peter could hear several sniggers from the back, muffled by the scraping of chairs as people began to pack away. “Maybe Tony Stark will allow me to come over and-”
“Absolutely not,” Peter said hurriedly, before brightening. “Maybe M.J wants to hang out with you.”
M.J scoffed, not even looking up as she closed her bag. “Maybe you can shut your mouth, Parker.”
“Mr Parker, a word?”
Peter glanced up, spotting Mr Harrington standing at the front of the classroom, with a certain seriousness that wasn’t usually present on his face. A look that Peter knew well, because other teachers had begun to wear it regularly, ever since he had begun skipping classes, forgetting homework assignments. Ever since he went from a genius, wonder-kid who could do whatever he wanted with his life, to a lazy teenager who clearly didn’t care about his studies.
If only they knew why I barely showed up, Peter thought dryly.
Peter stood up, promising Ned that yes, he would remember to call later that night and yes, he would remember to ask Aunt May about having a sleepover on Friday, and ignoring the disappointment that nestled in his heart when he noticed that M.J had already left without even saying goodbye, before trudging up to the front.
Another talk about getting his act together and learning to not always rely on his intelligence to carry him through life. How fun.
Mr Harrington didn’t speak immediately, waiting for the final student to leave the classroom, shutting the door behind them before breathing deeply through his nose. “Peter, we need to talk,” Mr Harrington began. “About your internship.”
Peter’s head snapped up. “What?”
“I don’t know how this all began exactly,” his teacher continued, his attention solely on Peter. “Maybe you were finally letting Flash’s words get to you, maybe you were sick of just being Peter, maybe something was going on at home that we didn’t know about. But the lie can’t continue.”
“Lie?” Peter replied slowly. “What lie?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Your internship at Stark Industries,” Mr Harrington said simply. “I let it go on this long because it wasn’t really hurting you, and it happened so soon after your uncle’s death. But it’s been a year now Peter, and you need to learn that lying, especially about something as serious as this, is completely irresponsible.”
Peter was lost for words. He knew Flash didn’t believe him, and probably most of his classmates, most of the school. But to hear Mr Harrington, a teacher, not believing in him, was somehow worse. Was it really that impossible that Peter Parker could land himself an internship at Stark Industries?
You didn’t, a small voice said in the back of his head. Spider-man did.
He shut the voice out.
“What about the paperwork?” Peter demanded, fumbling for any credibility he had left.
“Stark Industries doesn’t grant internships to those under the age of eighteen,” Mr Harrington said. “It’s wise of them not to. Internships for minors such as yourself would require so much work and organisation that it probably isn’t worth it.”
Peter looked down on his feet. Mr Harrington was the one who was supposed to believe him, the one who was supposed to stand by his side on Thursday. “I don’t know what to say, Mr Harrington,” he said weakly. “I have the internship, I swear.”
Mr Harrington hummed, but Peter could tell he was still unconvinced. “Does your aunt know about this, Peter?” Peter nodded, and Mr Harrington nodded too, as though that did anything. May had laughed when she signed the permission form the previous night, teasing Peter about going on a field trip to the one place he spent most weeks at.
But Mr Harrington didn’t know that.
“You’re a bright kid, Peter,” Mr Harrington continued. “I expect great things from you, I really do. You have a scholarship to one of the top STEM high schools in the whole of New York, highest grades in your class. You could probably get into any college you wanted to.”
He leaned closer to Peter. “And I’m sure, when the time comes and you’ve met the age requirement, Stark Industries would be delighted to have you as an intern.” Mr Harrington straightened himself, patting Peter tentatively on the back. “Don’t think about your lie on Thursday. Think about the opportunity you get, to actually see Stark Industries. I’m sure we’ll be able to find out more about the internship process and maybe even get some tips.”
Mr Harrington picked up his leather briefcase from the floor, resting his hand gently on Peter’s arm. “I’ll even write you a glowing recommendation when the time comes, Peter.”
He lifted his hand, waving as he left the classroom, and Peter.
Who was dreading Thursday more than ever.
—
Tony Stark was a genius, above all other titles.
It wasn’t hard to notice, not with his multiple PhDs and his own reformed weapons company and his iron suits. It was a trait that he prided himself of greatly, enough so that he also gained the labels of arrogant, narcissistic. But it was hard not to be self-centred, not when your name was Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.
He had a lab that made most people gasp audibly, his home was a penthouse that was directly connected to one of the most powerful technology companies in the world, one with his name directly slapped onto it. Tony had everything that could be dreamed about. And that, therefore, was why it didn’t make any sense that he wasn’t good at darts.
“Careful Stark,” Natasha Romanoff said dryly. “You don’t want to put any more holes in the wall.”
“Shut up Romanoff,” Tony hissed, crouching slightly into position, squinting as he aligned his dart with the board, readjusting his hand from his previous attempt to fix his failure. The wall surrounding the dart board had clearly seen better days, although the holes in the bullseye, courtesy of the Black Widow and Happy Hogan, were even more infuriating.
Tony breathed in.
And out.
“Were you even attempting to hit the board?” Tony ignored Natasha’s sarcasm, staring intently at the dart that had shot out of his hand, stabbing the wall, injuring it further. They had been playing darts for nearly two hours now, two hours of Natasha and Happy succeeding when he only kept failing. It didn’t make sense.
He began to make his way out of the room, which finally made Natasha glance up from where she was leaning back, almost casually, or at least as casually as Natasha Romanoff could get, on the couch, her eyes following Tony as he moved across the room. “Are you giving up already?”
“I’m grabbing water, if you must know,” Tony answered snarkily, taking his bottle and forcing the lid open with his teeth. “I’m not thinking straight, my hydration levels are low. I need to clear my head.”
“It isn’t dehydration that’s making you miss all your shots,” Natasha answered without missing a beat. “Maybe the Tony Stark isn’t perfect at everything.”
Tony huffed, sending a look to Happy, who was still sitting on the couch next to Natasha Romanoff, not even attempting to look entertained by the scene in front of him. It was like trying to side with a rock, Tony decided, as he set his water bottle down and walked back towards the dartboard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Romanoff,” he finally responded, grabbing another dart and messing around with it in his fingers. He readjusted his stance, because that was almost definitely the issue, the reason why he had been failing. “My aim is always spot on.”
He missed again.
“I need more water.”
Tony collapsed into the couch beside Happy, roughly forcing the water bottle open and chugging it, ignoring how the water droplets missed his mouth entirely and decorated his already oil stained shirt. He had spent the entire morning and some in his lab, and he intended to head straight back down after the game of darts he had been expeditiously forced into.
Romanoff stood up, plucking the dart out of the wall with ease and walked towards the center of the room. She showed no nerves, no sign that she felt nothing but confidence in her own abilities, but that was because she was a super spy. She was probably shitting her pants, Tony decided as he leaned back, crossing his arms. She was about to miss, just like he did, and her taunts would fall flat to the ground.
The dart left her hand smoothly, landing directly in the bullseye.
“Oh come on!”
Tony left the couch abruptly, spraying more water onto the ground that he still felt no care for. It didn’t really matter, truly, nobody would care if the Tony Stark wasn’t that good at darts. But it did matter, because Natasha Romanoff wasn’t better than him.
Happy only snorted.
“That’s it,” Tony decided. “I’m done. I’m going back to my lab, where I can finally get some work done and take my job very seriously because I am a very serious pers- Kid! Where the hell did you come from?”
Tony jumped, because Peter Parker was sitting on his couch, where previously there hadn’t been a Peter Parker sitting. The kid was watching the scene with mild amusement, his lips upturned in the corners as his gaze slid towards the destroyed wall surrounding the darts board.
Natasha’s smirk widened, folding her arms over her chest. “The kid’s been sitting there for two minutes, Tony. Did you really not notice him?”
Tony decided to ignore the disapproval in her tone, offering a hand to the teenager, heaving him off the couch, which was no easy feat. The kid’s DNA was basically pure muscle at this point, all because of a spider bite and some radiation.
“Hi Mr Stark,” Peter said with his usual goofy grin.
“Hey kid.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed as his gaze moved from the kid to the dartboard, and then back to the kid. “Why are you here?” His eyes widened. “Did you blow something up?”
“Mr Stark,” Peter said. “It’s Tuesday.”
Tuesday? That wasn’t right. Tony wasn’t honestly sure what day it was anymore, you no longer needed to keep track of silly things such as dates when you were a genius inventor like Tony Stark, but it definitely wasn’t Tuesday. Because Tuesday was Peter’s day, when the kid visited after school and the two worked together in the labs until Pepper yanked them out by their collars. And Tony wasn’t prepared for a Peter in the lab.
Both Natasha and Happy were looking at Tony now with exasperation. The billionaire suddenly nodded his head, a smile forming on his face with ease. “Just messing with you kid,” he said easily, throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “C’mon, I have this tech I want you to check out.”
Peter had a habit of appearing in Tony’s life at exactly the wrong moment, but he seemed to have finally broken the pattern. Tony began to lead the kid towards the elevator, glad to have an excuse to leave Romanoff, Happy and that stupid dartboard.
“Me and the kid are officially unavailable, if you need any assistance you can either ask for Pepper or talk to FRIDAY,” Tony called over his shoulder, as the elevator door opened, and he pulled Peter inside. “I would recommend FRIDAY though, I’m 96.4% sure that Pepper is in a very important meeting right now and she would not be happy-“ He allowed himself to be cut off by the closing of the elevator doors.
Peter slumped dramatically against the side of the elevator as it began to ascend. “I’ve had the craziest day, Mr Stark,” he announced, looking up at his mentor.
“Me too kid,” Tony responded. “Nothing a good takeout won’t fix.”
Peter blinked. “I thought Pepper banned you from having takeout. After you admitted to not eating real vegetables in over a week.” He paused. “How did you seriously not eat your greens for a whole week man?”
Tony scowled, straightening his posture. “Shut your mouth, Parker. Sometimes there’s more to life than just eating your veggies.” He leaned in, wagging his finger in Peter’s face. “And currently Pepper is in a meeting, so I’m the adult in charge. So we’re eating takeout.”
That seemed to shut Peter up. “I don’t want takeout,” he mumbled grumpily.
“What sort of teenager doesn’t want a takeout?”
“I just.. don’t. Okay?” His voice fell several volume notches, slightly whiny, in what Tony could only diagnose as teenage angst. He didn’t think he could ever raise a kid, having the deal with this constantly sounded like torture. His heart went to May Parker and her strength for dealing with Peter Parker.
He brought his hand to his head. “Okay, whatever kid,” he said. “We’ll deal with this later.” The elevator doors opened, revealing the lab that Tony was sure he could navigate blindfolded, and the two got out.
It had been roughly a year since Tony began to actually allow Peter to enter his lab. It had been a big step because, even if he was Spider-man, Peter was essentially a stranger. A smart, loveable stranger who actually got what Tony was talking about in a way that nobody else understood. That’s how Peter was allowed to stay.
The kid had his own bench now, a corner of the lab that was for Parker creativity only, even though Peter often ended up drifting over to Tony’s workspace anyway with no regard for health or safety. He would always lean in, going to poke at whatever highly flammable, highly dangerous mechanism Tony was working on that day, until Tony battered his hand away and showed him anyway.
Tony ignored the way a dumb, stupid smile formed on his face at the thought of the kid always hovering around him, like a mosquito or one of those ugly baby chickens. Which was weird, because Tony Stark didn’t search for validation, his family was complete and he didn’t need anybody else. But Peter still found himself somehow an honorary member of the Stark household.
And, as expected, Peter didn’t bother to even look like he was going to his work station, instead heading straight to Tony’s.
“Mr Stark, I thought of this really cool idea for my spider-suit,” the kid already began to ramble, leaning over the completely unorganised desk, seemingly not even taking a breath. “Like we could add even more web slingers that-” The kid continued to ramble on, about his suit and his webs and all the things that made Spider-man. Things that Tony had already thought about, had already been planning for weeks alongside his iron suit. But Tony still listened, because he knew he was the only one who could understand the kid.
Eventually the kid settled down, sitting down beside Tony on the stool he had moved from his own desk. The two sat side by side, close enough that they bumped shoulders occasionally but with enough space for them both to work individually. Music began to crash through the speakers at such decibels that conversation would’ve been impossible.
The familiarity of the situation was soothing to Tony.
—
“Per the Peter Parker protocol, I have to remind Boss that the time is 6.30 and that starting dinner is highly recommended.”
FRIDAY’s voice broke through the speaker, interrupting the music and the flow the mentor and mentee had found themselves in. Tony blinked, it felt like barely any time had passed since the two began to work. Usually they were able to reach a regular rhythm before there were any disruptions from the AI.
The Peter Parker protocol had been installed by Pepper not long after Peter became a regular at the Tower, and the CEO had begun to fear that Tony’s bad habits would rub off on his protege. So scheduled meal times had become a necessity.
“How is it already 6.30?” Tony said dumbly, staring at the technology on his desk that he had barely started messing with, before suddenly turning to his left. “Why were you so late, buckaroo?” He pointed his finger at Peter. “And I’m the one responsible for you, so you’re going to tell me right now, okay?”
“Relax, Mr Stark,” Peter objected. “I just had an extra decathlon meeting for the field trip on Thursday.”
Tony had already turned away, stretching his legs as he considered what takeout they should get. Maybe the kid was just getting bored of having Thai for the fifth time in a row.
“FRIDAY, pull out the nearest takeout places. Remove all Thai,” Tony instructed, glancing over his shoulder as he wandered further into the lab. “What field trip, kid?”
Peter quirked his eyebrow, titling his head. “The field trip. To Stark Industries.”
Tony made his way to the corner of the lab that had been built after Peter’s arrival. It wasn’t much, just two couches and a coffee table. But Pepper had suggested it, something about helping the kid settle in, so Tony added it. Tony flopped onto the couch, resting his feet up despite the shoes that he still wore on his feet, feeling the space next to him dip as the kid joined him.
“We do field trips?” Tony said absentmindedly, already reading off the takeout options under his breath that appeared on the screen in front of him. “Chinese, Mexican, pizza..”
“Hmh,” Peter responded tiredly. “I had this really long talk with my teacher afterwards about my internship. He doesn’t believe me, he says that you wouldn’t accept anybody under eighteen, which I think is stupid because obviously you accepted me and-” He suddenly perked up. “Oh! Can we get Delmar’s?”
“Delmar’s?”
“They’re this really great deli in Queens, real easy to get from our apartment there. I always go before patrols,” the kid began to rant again, and Tony sighed softly. “The guy, Delmar, he’s great. He always makes the sandwiches real flat whenever I ask.”
Tony shrugged. “Okay buckaroo.” He ruffled Peter’s head, standing up again. “I’ll get Happy to pick up two sandwiches. I’ll get whatever’s most expensive and you’ll-”
“A number five please, Mr Stark. And can you tell Delmar it’s me ordering? He’ll know what to do.”
Tony nodded. “Sure, sure kid.” He knew FRIDAY was already conveying the situation to Happy, who would grumble but still get into his car because that was what Tony paid him to do, and then he would return with two sandwiches from the deli that he would’ve heavily tipped for.
Happy had complained to Tony, once, that his job felt less security and more babysitting duty, but Tony dismissed the complaint. The kid needed to eat, and Tony couldn’t exactly show up in Queens himself.
The two fell into a comfortable silence, Tony’s mind already distracted by his plans for later that night. The kid had already shown up late, so keeping him overnight and allowing them to continue working in the lab together was the preferable option. But it was also a school night, and Tony knew May wouldn’t be very pleased if she found out Peter was working so late on a school night, and Happy was never enthusiastic to drive the kid to school so early in the morning.
“You seriously had no idea about the field trip?”
Peter appeared in Tony’s view, clearly not content to remain in his own thoughts. Stupid brat, Tony thought fondly.
“Hmm, yeah,” Tony responded coolly. “Pepper handles all that type of stuff.”
“What do you do?”
Tony shrugged. “Be awesome.” He thought for a second. “Help stop little spider-babies from killing themselves.”
“I am not a baby,” Peter protested, his face crumbling into a moody scowl. Teenager angst, present once again. Poor May Parker.
“Sure kid.”
Peter slumped further into the couch, folding his arms over his chest. The kid was like a cat, he could make himself turn to the soup-like form at will. Tony briefly wondered if the spider DNA running in his veins had anything to do with this particular habit of Peter Parker. “Is it really that hard to believe I have an internship here, Mr Stark?”
“Of course not, kid, you’re brilliant,” Tony replied quickly.
“Even with Spider-man?”
Tony paused. Without Spider-man, no, Tony would’ve never allowed a random fifteen year old in his labs. Tony would’ve never even considered heading down to Queens, New York, not without Spider-man trending on Youtube. He was glad he had met Peter, but that didn’t change the facts.
“Spider-man definitely, he definitely helped kiddo,” Tony answered truthfully. It’s what Pepper would’ve done, he decided. “But I would’ve kicked you out ages ago if you didn’t deserve to be here.”
This didn’t seem to have the desired result on Peter’s mood. “But on Thursday-”
“You’re that worried about Thursday?” Tony interrupted the kid as he got swept in his woes. “Kid, you’re an intern, there’s no disputing that fact. Now, what do you do on these field trips that I found out we do ten minutes ago?”
Peter blinked, as though he wasn’t expecting the subject change. Too bad, Tony Stark didn’t want to talk about feeling sorry for yourself while they waited for their sandwiches. That was May Parker’s responsibility. “Mr Harrington mentioned we would be doing lab tours, meeting interns. Mr Stark, I don’t know any interns!”
“FRIDAY, pull up the schedule for Midtown’s field trip,” Tony called, the AI responding almost instantly. “Oh you guys are having a busy day, aren’t you? Wow, three different lab tours before lunch, a practical and a Q&A session all before three o’clock.” Tony swept his arm, expanding a singular block of the day. 1.30 - 2.30. Practical session with Dr Smythe. “How would your classmates feel about meeting the Tony Stark?”
Peter gasped. “Do not, Mr Stark! Don’t embarrass me.”
Tony raised his eyebrow. “I would never embarrass you, kiddo. Just a little meet’n’greet to boost morale. And maybe I just happen to need my personal intern because there’s a very difficult equation in my lab that even I can’t figure out.”
“Do not.”
“God, you’re so boring, you know that kid?” Tony huffed. “What about there being a super secret Avengers meeting that I absolutely need my intern at?”
“No.”
“I need my assistant to do a coffee run for me?”
“I’m your assistant now?” Peter spluttered, sitting upright with such speed that Tony wasn’t sure if he hadn’t injured something. “Mr Stark, you cannot come to the field trip on Thursday. Please?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine kid,” he grumbled. “But this is my company too, okay? I’m allowed to go wherever I please.”
“When was the last time you saw the labs?”
“Shush,” Tony said, pressing his finger to Peter’s lips, before pushing himself off the couch, ignoring the way his back twinged at the movement. The kid was making him old. “Now I need to call Happy, because he should have the sandwiches by now. I’m hungry, are you not hungry?”
Tony didn’t even wait for a response, because he knew Peter and his stupid super metabolism. Kid was always hungry.