Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

Oops! I Did It Again

a/n: for medical reasons I cannot see no way home until april! i will not be writing anything with spoilers ! in return i would like ZERO comments on the movie please be respectful THANK YOU🙏

"...Boss."

Tony pulled his head up off the desk with a start and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. An annoyed yawn fought its way out. "What, FRI?"

His whole body ached, some horrible product of old age and the lack of rest that followed him everywhere he went. Last night was no exception, spending hours drifting in and out of sleep until the sun came up, and then spending the whole day blinking slowly through business meetings so long they could have broken the realm of time. (Maybe if he blinked slow enough, he could get a millisecond of sleep, and the milliseconds could add up with every blink until he had enough sleep to function normally again.)

"What's so important that you had to wake me up?" Tony said lethargically, holding his hands over his eyes to keep the darkness.

"The unlocked window on the sixteenth floor has been opened. Security cameras are showing Peter Parker on his way to the medical bay," FRI responded with resignation.

"Shit." Tony stood up quickly, pulling his hands away and letting the room spin for a moment as he made his way to the door. "Why don't you lead with that, next time?"

Leave it to a scrawny heroic teenager to erase any sense of false calm that lived in chalkboard of Tony's head. He could feel his hair getting greyer strand by strand as he made a light jog up the stairs of the lab and down the hallway.

Maybe it was good that the kid finally started trusting him enough to come to the compound when he needed assistance. Tony could bend his back and break it several times over for Pete, he could stay awake for hours ensuring every protocol in the suit kept him safe, he could fly across the entirety of Manhattan to help him fix up a broken ferry, he could offer him a thousand job offers and college recommendation letters, but none of it would mean shit if the kid got hurt on patrol and died out 'cuz he still believed he was alone.

Tony exhaled stiffly and kept walking until he got to the elevator.

"Get me up to the med bay," Tony said, leaning haggardly against the wall. The doors closed, and his insides twisted as the level raised painfully slow. He counted each floor as it went, the worry rising with the number.

Floor 3. How badly was Peter injured, anyways? Tony imagined Peter pushing the window open and leaving blood smears on the glass. He imagined the painful cries as the curly-browned kid fell forward and weakly crumpled to the floor of the med bay.

Floor 8. He imagined Peter picking himself up from the puddle of blood pooled around him. Was his face beat up too? Was he covered in purple and blue? He imagined the ache was visible in his kid's expression, he imagined exhausted tears running from swollen eyes.

Floor 15. Tony ran a hand over his eyes for a whole other reason. His heart was beating fast. He needed to be prepared for the worst case scenario, that was his job as the adult, but what the hell was he supposed to do if he found his kid half-dead on the floor? A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. His skin itched.

Floor 16. The door dinged and folded inwards. Tony quickly stepped out, he rounded the corner—

He stopped.

Peter was— Peter was dancing around the medical bay. His suit was half off, the top of it bunched around his waist and tied by the sleeves. There was indeed a gash in his side, and by the way his face twinged when he moved, it definitely could be felt. Ouch.

Blood was dripping as he moved, it was leading an unsteady trail from the open (and lazily displaced) window and around in a loop, then finally following the teen who was nodding his head up and down as he grabbed the gauze and pressed it against his bleeding side.

It was like watching a sitcom. Tony had no words. All he could do was stand there helplessly and wonder if he was still asleep.

"I think I did it again," Peter mumbled lyrics under his breath, his voice purposely nasally. He turned, threw his arm out with style, did a theatrical flourish, and then danced toward the suture kit. "Cause to lose all my senses—"

Then he swung his shoulders, continuing the dramatic performance. "That is just so typically me, oh baby baby—"

He tossed his head back and sang louder. "Oops! I did it again, I played wi—" Peter's head tilted to the elevator and then his voice cracked, his eyes going wide. "Mr. Stark!"

There it was.

"...Are you..." Tony squinted in the dark. "Are you singing 'Oops!...I Did it Again' while stitching up your... second stab wound of the month?"

Peter opened his mouth. Closed it. He then smiled guiltily, keeping the gauze tucked tightly on his wound.

"Irony runs in the family?" Peter joked.

This kid was going to give him a coronary.

Tony sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, clearly this one isn't bad enough to keep you from giving the pigeons a free Britney Spears cover concert."

Then, a pigeon who apparently took comedy's lesson in timing, flew in through the open window and landed on the floor. Peter quickly slid off the counter. "No, no, no! Out! Shoo—"

Peter tried to wave it back out with his free hand. The pigeon cooed angrily and began perilously pecking at Peter Parker's pitiful fingers, before finally flapping its wings and taking off. Peter dropped the gauze and put the window back into place, and then the boy turned to Tony and even had the nerve to look embarrassed.

"I did not plan that," Peter promised seriously. He picked the gauze up from the floor and tossed it into the trash can, then walked over to the kit to get a clean roll. "Anyways. Yeah, I'm fine! 'Tis but a scratch, you know?"

The thing about kids that Tony never would understand is their unpredictability. The absolute feral energy that they carry with them, woven intricately in their little eyelashes until they open their eyes to the real world and became too tired to care. (Tony was tired. Unfortunately, he just cared too much about this weird sticky teenager who broke into his tower again.)

Tony slowly nodded. A yawn caught up with him, and the exhaustion came back fullforce in its waves now that he could see visibly that the kid was fine and wonderfully alive. He turned around, and headed back to the elevator. "Patch that up and go to bed. It's a school night, Bueller."

"I don't think it is!" Peter called back. "But thanks, Mr. Stark!"

Lordy.