Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

A Lovely Place to Be

Spooktober 20: Trees

Tonight was a comfortable cold— the kind that settled in like being held in the arms of someone you haven't seen in a long while. He heard the gentle creaking of wood under gusts of wind, the croaking of frogs that sung in the lake outside, and the silence that only could come this late at night.

Peter was alone in the kitchen, scratching away at some trigonometry homework and relishing in the serenity of the moment he was in. There was comfort in solitude when it was hand-in-hand with the knowledge that the people he cared about was safe, completely safe; either asleep just upstairs or a few hours from here back in the city.

He knew just as easily that there could have been a time or place, somewhere, in some universe, where he wouldn't be able to do this. His nightmares remind him of that as often as they can, just to ensure he won't forget. Tony could have died. Peter could have stayed dead. They could have lost, again, with no hope of return—

One wrong move, one step in the wrong direction, and maybe things wouldn't have turned out this way. Luckily, he didn't have to think about those sorts of alternations. He didn't need to think back steps he made, he didn't need to verify which were correct, because either way they had graciously led him here.

'Here'  was a lovely place to be.

Peter quietly flipped the page, and continued scribbling away with a pleasantly buzzing mind. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn't notice the creaking of the stairs— except he did notice, because it was his job to notice things like that. He glanced up.

Tony was standing at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing tiredly at his face and halfway through a yawn. He blinked over at Peter with sleep-crescent eyes and trudged over to the kitchen table with a frown.

"Hey," Tony said, crossing his arms. He seemed to be scanning over him, looking for any signs of distress, anything that could have stuck out as troubling. When he didn't find anything, he frowned tighter. "What's up, kid?"

"Nothing," Peter said honestly. He pushed back from his chair and rested his hands behind his head, smiling lightly. "Just catching up on some homework. It's not due until Tuesday, I just didn't want to do it later, so... figured I might as well just get it done now when I don't mind doing it, you know?"

Tony relaxed, huffing a laugh. "I don't know. I've never had a work ethic quite as nerdy as yours."

"Har har," Peter glared, but the smile not leaving his face gave away just how unbothered he really was. "What about you? Why are you up?"

Tony shrugged. "Call it a Tony tingle, huh? Just knew one of my stragglers wasn't sleeping sound in his comfy, very expensive bed."

Peter's ears burned red. He hid his face in his hand and ick-shivered. "Please, please, please don't ever let me hear you say those specific two words again."

"What," Tony grinned. "Tony tingle?"

"Tony."

Tony laughed some more, under his breath as to not startle the stillness of the late night. He patted Peter on the shoulder with a stable hand, his thumb absently drumming on his sweater. He hummed as if he were suddenly thinking about something.

Peter looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to share. His pencil rolled onto the paper and pleated his hands into his lap.

"Get your coat," Tony said finally. He patted him once more on the shoulder before pulling away, heading toward the closet beside the bathroom where they kept the shoes. "Get your sneakers, too."