Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

Lunch, MIT, and a Knuckle Sandwich

Spooktober 26: CPR

"So." Tony clears his throat, shifting in the seat across from Peter. "How are things going?"

"With patrol? They're going good," Peter nods. He takes a bite of the cheeseburger on his plate and chews happily. "I think I'm really starting to get the hang of all this stuff. More so then before."

Tony smiles minimally. "That's real good, kid. How about school? You're still doing good in all your classes and everything?"

Peter pauses his chewing and tilts his head. He swallows his food and considers Tony's expression curiously.

It wasn't... unnatural, per say, for anybody to check in on Peter. For it to be unnatural would be saying that Peter felt bothered by it, that was negative and new and misplaced. This wasn't that.

It's definitely strange, though. Peter can't tell where Tony's trying to lead the conversation, which makes him want to ask questions rather than answer the ones he's being given. And Tony—

Tony hadn't touched any of his food. The cheeseburger he had ordered was still in its oily blob on the plate, starting to sag on one side where there was an excessive amount of cheese and bacon grease sogging up the bread. And he didn't seem like he was going to eat it, either.

The smile had slid off his face, and Tony was now staring at him with a blankness to it that unsettled him immediately. His hands were in his lap and his attention was entirely directed towards whatever Peter was saying, which was also just a little bit odd.

"It's going okay," Peter says slowly, putting his burger down. "Why? Is something—Is there another mission?"

"No."

Peter frowns slightly. Worry was starting to chip away at his expression, no matter how nonchalant he was trying to be about it. He can't think of any reason why Tony would be mad at him. His patrols really have been going okay. Nothing particularly devastating had happened in the past few weeks, not even a stab wound or graze from a gunshot. People are getting saved and Peter's been staying safe— So why was he being stared at like that?

He sticks a french fry in the pile of ketchup beside his burger and stirs it around. "Uh."

"It's just—" Tony shrugs, straightening up in his seat. "I'm checking in."

The weariness doesn't leave Peter as he stares back at Tony. "Did I do something? I swear everything's been going great! You don't have to worry about me, Mr. Stark. I'm doing everything right."

"Yeah, I know," Tony cracks a smile. Once again, it fades, and Peter's frown grows alongside it. "This isn't about that. Why do you look like I kicked your puppy? Geez, relax."

"You relax!" Peter scrunches his nose up. "You haven't even eaten anything. Are you sick? Should I be worried, Mr. Stark?"

"No, I'm not—" Tony huffs and rolls his eyes. He picks up the bacon cheeseburger and takes a big bite out of it, and starts speaking with the chunk of burger still in his mouth. "There, happy?"

After a few seconds of brief chewing, Tony swallows his food and sighs.

The firm lines in his face weakened to show a vulnerable hesitance. "My dad, he never did a lot of this stuff. The lunches, and the asking, and the—the non-work crap. I can tell I'm doing a stellar job at it now, too, begging by your... terrified face. Wow. That's impressive, actually. Ever thought about acting? You'd be a natural at it."

Peter relaxes at the explanation for his mentor's rigid behaviour. The man was just thinking too much. Before he knew him, Peter never realized those certain elements that made up Tony Stark. He always acts like he doesn't care, he's got this bravado he pulls on that looks so fake up close. Everybody knew about it, everyone knew the mask, but not everyone got to see what was under it.