Peter and Morgan, smth about Christmas peppermint candy? Since spiders are allergic to peppermint?
Okay, here goes...
I PROMISE Morgan is in this, I'm just very obsessed with Tony and Peter right now, so that's where I started. Bio-dad!Tony au, post-Endgame, obviously Tony is okay. Sorry for the angst. I am not a medical expert.
****
Peter woke up from his nap with a crick in his neck, gunk in his eyes, and an awful taste of morning breath in his mouth. Or not morning breath, more like afternoon breath. He rubbed his eyes, squinting at the clock, and immediately felt worse when he saw it read half-past two.
"Hnnnnggggguuuhhh."
Peter collapsed back on the mattress, with a groan that didn't sound human even to him. He had only meant to take a half-hour rest, a little cat-nap, as Aunt May would have called it. But that was three hours ago.
A faint knock came at the door, which he was sure he'd left open. He sat up again, trying to swing his legs to the floor, and look alive. "Come in!"
Tony came in, smiling at Peter with a cringe-worthy amount of fondness. "Thought I heard the Hulk in here for a minute. How are you doing, kiddo?" His hand on Peter's forehead was cool, before his fingers snagged in Peter's tangled curls.
Peter sighed, resting his head against Tony's stomach. "I don't even know."
"Good grief, you sound like a dying horse."
"You've heard a horse die?" Peter lifted his head and took the water bottle his dad pressed into his hand.
"I have an imagination," Tony said, so scornful Peter knew he was joking.
"I feel like a horse resurrected," Peter mumbled.
"Zombie horse." Tony chuckled, as he rubbed his hands over Peter's back, digging his fingers into the knotted muscles between Peter's shoulders. "But hey, at least you should be alright for Christmas."
Peter sighed, melting under the strong massaging touch. "Thanks, Dad." He closed his eyes, inhaling the faint scents of burned bacon and WD-40 that clung to Tony's sweater. Even through a slightly plugged nose, it was comforting.
It had been so, so long since he'd had anything so much as a cold, thanks to his enhanced immune system, this flu had come as a surprise. Dr. Mike at the compound had suggested it might be a strain that Peter had missed the evolution of while being dusted, and his system just hadn't been prepared. It had only been 24 hours, and already Peter knew he was recovering. But it had been a shock, and not a pleasant one. Not to mention Dr. Mike diagnosing him as overworked and burnt out, and ordering him to take a full month off from working as Spiderman.
Tony's hands halted, resting on his shoulders and giving him a gentle shake. "Hey, Spiderling, you falling asleep again?"
"No." Peter forced himself to sit up straight. "I'm hungry." The moment he said it, he knew it was true; he felt as hollow as a cave.
Tony stepped back, grinning. "Perfect timing! Pep and Morgan were just about to start baking cookies. And I'm pretty sure Morgan was hoping you would join."
"Yeah, but I need food now." Peter grimaced at both the whine in his voice and the stale taste still in his mouth. He stood, and Tony pulled him close, kissing his temple.
"I know," his dad murmured, "there's some leftovers from lunch we saved for you. Beef stew with Pepper's sourdough bread. How does that sound?"
"Good." Peter gave him a little smile. "Sorry for being a grouch."
"The way you smell, I'm not surprised." Tony made a face as he pushed Peter toward the closet. "Get some clean clothes and a shower, and come down."
"Yes, Dad." Peter was wearing these pyjamas for the second day in a row, and suddenly felt his need for hot water and soap.
"Twenty minutes," Tony called back over his shoulder as he left the room. "Food will be hot."
***
Washed and dressed in clean clothes, Peter snagged one of Tony's black hoodies from the clean laundry bin on his way down the hall to the kitchen.
Pepper was talking, Christmas music was playing softly, Tony chuckled, and Peter could smell the beef and the bread before he hit the doorway. He found himself smiling for the first time in over a day.
"Peter!" Morgan slithered down from her high stool at the counter and came trotting across the room, arms outstretched. "Are you all better now?"
Peter scooped her up, and her arms and legs wrapped tight around him. "Yeah, now that I've got your hug." He kissed the side of her head, and carried his little sister back to where Pepper was measuring sugar into a bowl.
"You sound more like yourself." Pepper leaned over to press a kiss into Peter's damp hair.
"I feel more like it." Peter tried to set Morgan down on her stool but she clung to him.
"You have to help make the cookies."
"Not till he's eaten, Miss Magoo." Tony pulled a bowl from the microwave and stirred it as he brought it to the table, nodding for Peter to follow him. "I can hear that spider stomach growling from over here."
Morgan sighed, letting go to plop down on the stool at her mom's elbow. "Fine. But you have to try the dough."
Peter smiled, brushed his nose against hers. "Well, I can't say no to cookie dough."
She smiled, that little grin just like Tony's, and turned to insist on cracking the eggs into the bowl.
Peter went to the table, sitting around the corner from Tony, who slid the bowl at him, before starting to butter three slices of sourdough bread on a plate. Peter smiled to himself, as he bowed his head for a quick prayer, and then took his first spoonful, blowing on it a little. Tony was humming along with Michael Bublé singing "I'll Be Home For Christmas", moving his eyebrows in time to the music.
Another thing Peter had missed while he was dead—watching Pepper make Tony like her music.
"Eat, Pete."
He blinked at Tony, and shoved the stew into his mouth. "Yes, sir," he mumbled through the food.
Tony stopped spreading butter, and leveled Peter with a look, pointing the knife at him. "Peter Benjamin Parker Stark, is that any way to talk to your father?" But the grin that broke out completely spoiled his stern tone.
Peter shovled in more stew, mashing up the carrots and potatoes around his front teeth, before he grinned at Tony.
Tony flicked the knife at him, and a tiny bit of butter came sailing at Peter, who jerked his head to one side and caught it in his mouth. And now Tony laughed, right out loud, the way he hardly ever did, the way Peter could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Tony laugh. A head-thrown-back, eyes-closed, face-crinkled, full-on cackle.
Dad.
Peter might have grabbed his phone to snap a photo, but... he'd left it upstairs. Oh well, taking a picture might have ruined the moment, and he had a good memory at least. He went back to eating, almost overwhelmed with happiness.
Maybe being on vacation from superhero work would be okay. Maybe he'd be able to lay the guilt and the control issues aside, and just enjoy what was right in front of him.
"Even Avengers need rest," Pepper had told him yesterday morning, right before the fever really kicked in and made everything go fuzzy. "Even your dad takes breaks."
Especially now that he has you back. Peter didn't need supersenses to hear the unspoken part too.
He finished his stew while Tony nibbled on nuts like a squirrel, still humming along with the music, but occasionally breaking to ramble about one of the many seemingly random problems he was always spinning around in his head trying to solve.
"Peter?" Morgan chirped at his elbow, and he turned to take the fork of cookie dough from her, still mostly listening to Tony's thoughts on probably in chess, and the origins of the game. He and Pepper must have been watching Queen's Gambit again last night, Peter thought.
"Thanks, Mo," Peter said, absently. The taste of sugary, buttery dough filled his mouth, and he smiled.
Before something crunched between his teeth and he froze.
A burst of minty freshness across his tongue, before he was up and scrambling for the trash can drawer, bending over to spit, trying to empty his mouth as fast as he could. Already he could feel the burn, the tingling spreading across the inside of his cheeks.
Benadryl, he needed something, his Epi-pen, where, where-? He staggered to the sink, nearly blind with panic, groping for a cup, water, he needed to get it out, it had been ages since this had happened, oh God, please help, please help me.
Strong arms around his waist as he doubled over the sink, gagging, trying to swallow back his lunch, the fear.
He'd had an aversion to peppermint as a kid, until something about his spider powers had turned it into a full-blown allergy. The first time he'd tried After Eight chocolates after the bite, he'd ended up in the hospital, and given Tony a whole new set of grey hairs and wrinkles.
Now he could hear Tony's voice, steady and calm near his ear. "Hey, hey, kiddo, it's okay, it's alright, I've gotcha, just breathe now."
The heat, the itchiness, was already spreading across his chest, up into his hair, and he turned, hands groping for his dad, for his shirt, for something to hold onto. Tony's dark eyes stared into his, held him.
"Dad–"
"Hey, it's okay, Pepper's–"
"Here!" came Pepper's high voice nearby, and then came the sese of being punched in the thigh, the sharp prick, before he was lifted off his feet. Dizzy with it all, he clutched at Tony's neck, and closed his eyes. But already he could feel it, the coolness beginning to seep into his body.
He came back to himself slowly, on the couch in the living room, his head in Tony's lap, the man stroking Peter's hair and talking on speakerphone with Dr. Mike.
"Dad?" He could hear Morgan crying somewhere, and sat up fast, almost clocking Tony in the chin with his head. "Is Morgan okay?"
"Hey, hey, easy tiger." Tony cupped Peter's face, effectively stilling him. "Mo's just scared, that's all, she'll be okay, she's with Mom."
"Peter?" came Dr. Mike's thin voice through the phone on Tony's knee. "How are you feeling?"
"Um, tired?"
"Pulse?"
"Sixty-one bpm," Tony answered.
"How's your breathing?"
Peter took a couple deep breaths, and though they weren't the most comfortable, everything worked. "Okay," he said, at the same time as Tony's: "Been better."
"He wants you to go in and get some of the good stuff," Tony added, "just to be safe."
"But where's Morgan? She needs to know I'm okay." Peter swung his legs off the couch. "Mo?" he called.
He heard the rush of her bare feet on the wood floor, before she came flying toward him. She leapt and he caught her, his baby sister, bawling into his neck, and he held her close, closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She was crying hard enough that Peter had trouble understanding her. But he knew the tone of an apology.
"Oh, Peter." And there came Pepper to sit beside him, her arm around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, honey." Her eyes were red and wet too, and her kiss on his temple was soft. "She thinks it's her fault somehow, but of course it's mine."
"Ours," Tony interjected firmly.
"She loves peppermint and candy canes, and this is the first Christmas you've been back, and I suppose I just... forgot."
Another pang, the loneliness trying to work it's way back into his chest, but Peter pushed it away firmly. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't any one person's fault he'd died in his dad's arms in distant galaxy, and only made it back five years later. It wasn't his fault he'd missed his own father's wedding, or the birth of his half-sister, or his dad buying an alpaca by accident.
Peter turned his head to give Pepper a little smile. "But you remembered where my Epi-pen was."
"Thank God for that," Tony said.
Tears filled Pepper's eyes, and then they were all crying a little, huddled together in a pile of Starks on the couch.
Dr. Mike's voice pulled them out of it. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I would appreciate it if someone brought Peter down to the compound?"
"I'm on it."
Peter shot Tony a look. "Please in the car, not by Iron Man."
"Dude, it's 20 degrees out there, of course I'm not flying you." Tony rolled his eyes, gently extrication himself from the tangle of arms. "I'll bring the car around."
"I'm going with you," Morgan announced with a sniffle. She sat up in Peter's lap, looking squarely at her mother, sticking out her chin in the same way her dad did. "I'm going with Peter and Daddy."
"It'll only be for a few hours," Peter said, cuddling his sister closer. He understood how she wanted to keep an eye on him, and make sure he was safe, even if it was a little embarrassing. "You could come too," he mumbled, keeping his eyes down.
He was a teenager after all, he didn't need his entire family to sit around his bed in the Medbay for two hours while he had an IV in his arm and probably fell asleep. And yet...
Pepper sighed, smoothed a few curls back from his forehead where the sweat was drying. "Well, I suppose cleaning up the kitchen could wait."
"Come with us, Mommy." Morgan freed one hand to grab Pepper's, pulling the palm up to her cheek.
Pepper smoother her thumb under Morgan's eye, rubbing away the tear tracks, and smiled softly. "And if Bruce is there, I could ask him about the charity gala. Alright, let me get my bag. Morgan, darling, you need socks and shoes. As do you, Peter."
Peter sat back, and Morgan slumped against him, tucking her head under his chin.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's okay, Mo-mo, it's not your fault." Peter rested his cheek on her hair and closed his eyes. "You didn't know peppermint was bad for me."
"I'm never gonna eat peppermint again."
"Aw, Morgan, you don't have to do that. Mom says you like it, and that's okay. She still likes chocolate mint chip ice cream. I just can't have any, that's all."
"But that's not fair!" Morgan sounded on the verge of tears again.
"Yeah, I know, it's sad, not being able to share everything." He tilted his head to look down into her face. "But it's okay with me, if you want to eat it. Remember you hate strawberries, but you just give me the strawberry candies at Halloween. It just means more peppermints for you."
She sniffled again, still not convinced. "But now you have to see a doctor."
"Well, yeah, but... I don't mind. I like Doctor Mike." Which was... mostly true. Although he was feeling less charitable toward the Avengers head surgeon after getting benched.
Morgan sighed. She was heavy against Peter's chest, but warm too, which he liked. The sweat was drying, and he'd begun to feel a chill.
"But you were already sick, and now you feel worse. What if you had swelled up and died?"
Peter swallowed a startled laugh. She would say the most random things sometimes. "Don't worry, Dad wouldn't let that happen."
"You bet I wouldn't." Tony came striding in, now wearing his winter coat, and a knitted hat. He smelled like cold air. "Whatever it was."
"Alright, socks on both of you, let's go." And then Pepper was there, waving footwear at her children, back to business.
Tony ended up carrying Morgan out to the car, though she insisted on having Peter in the back seat with her. He was happy to curl against her, dozing off on the 30 minute drive, lulled by the hum of the car, and Tony and Pepper talking in quiet voices.
"Don't worry so much, Pep," he heard his dad say. "We'll be back for supper."
Peter slept again in the warmth of his room in the compound's medical wing. It scared him a little, how sleepy he felt, but the nurse Sheri reassured him. "Your body is dog-tired, honey. Between that flu Mike said you had, and now a reaction? You rest, child."
When he woke, Morgan was asleep beside him, Tony was sitting in the chair beside the bed, and Pepper was gone.
"She went home to get supper started," Tony explained. He leaned over to collect Morgan's markers and colouring books off the blanket, dumping them back into the canvas tote Pepper had brought them in. "Rhodey will give us a ride, and stay to eat with us."
"Oh, okay."
Tony stroked Peter's hair, and smiled softly. "Just another half-hour, kiddo, and we'll be out of here."
Peter shifted a little, trying to stretch his back, but Morgan didn't stir. He eyed Tony, knowing his dad well enough to see how he was tired too.
"You okay?"
Tony sighed, cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm good, kiddo."
"No, seriously, Dad." Peter reached up to grab Tony's hand.
Another sigh. "Well, you know I'm not really much of a praying man, but... I was praying there." He looked over, shook his head, and Peter saw tears in his dad's eyes. "To get you back... and then just lose you to some stupid food allergy because I wasn't paying attention? I couldn't. I couldn't take that."
Peter summoned a smile. "Well, God probably knew that."
Tony's lips twitched, and then he pulled Peter's hand up, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I love you, Pete," he whispered, hoarse as one of the bullfrogs out in the lake.
"I love you too, Dad." Peter smiled up at Tony. All these years and he never got tired of hearing those words. Or saying them back.
"Well." Tony cleared his throat, then fished in the tote bay and pulled out the little magnetic travel chess set. "Chess?"
Peter smiled. "Sure, but you need to watch better shows."
They were still arguing over TV shows when Dr. Mike came to kick them out half an hour later. They hadn't even opened the little chessboard either.
Okay, my favorite HC about how Tony survives his snap involves his nanotech. Tony didn't actively create the nanites to be sentient. But in the words of the Grandmaster, life finds a way. Somehow, exposed to Friday and Tony's other AIs, and existing within his literal heart, the nanites were on the verge of evolving into a new lifeform and when Tony snapped, the power surge from the infinity stones was the catalyst the nanites needed to bridge the gap from ultra advanced technology to sentient life. In an instant, Tony wasn't simply wearing armor, he was surrounded by millions (billions?) of newborn children that had the capacity to understand what was happening and made the collective decision to help their creator absorb and channel the power of the stones. Even their help wasn't enough to prevent all the harm that power can do to a mortal, and it burned out the brand new life of the nanites in the process. They knew the consequences of their choice and they made it anyway, because they were the child of Earth's Best Defender and how could they do anything but follow their father's example? So Tony survives, hurt, but alive, probably never realizing exactly what, or rather who, it was that saved him.
For @fandomjumper247 who is craving fics while AO3 is off to war.
It's not very long, my dear, but I also love IronDad and SpiderSon so---
Set shortly after Endgame where Tony does NOT die. Obviously.
******
"Park your spandex wearing butt right there or so help me, Parker----!"
"Spandex butt," Morgan giggled, and Tony whirled on the five year old.
"Nope, hey. We don't repeat what Dad says when he's upset. You know the rules."
"He's upset all the time," Peter muttered and then quailed under the fierce glare from those brown eyes.
"Morgan!" Tony barked. "Get popsicles!"
"How many?" she asked, tilting her head in an exact imitation of her father. She knew how to negotiate, Peter thought.
"However many you want, Doodlebug. Go."
She trotted out happily as Tony advanced like a predator toward his prey and Peter sank reluctantly onto the sofa.
"What did I say? Hm? What did I say about pursuing this?"
The white scars on the right side of his face were like a lightning spread though the ear had been expertly repaired by the best plastic surgeon in the world. It frankly served to make him look cooler but Peter wasn't telling him that.
"Mr. Stark----" he began.
"Oh HELL no, you did not just 'Mr. Stark' me right now!" Tony snarled at him, poking a finger into his chest. Because he'd designed the suit, he knew exactly where to poke and it immediately retracted, leaving Peter wincing. Tony took this in and drew in a long inhale, like a growing tsunami.
"Friday! How many broken ribs?"
"Invasion of privacy," Peter tried and Tony raised both eyebrows in what Peter privately thought of as his 'Cap' look. It was the one he always gave Steve Rogers when he thought Cap was also pushing too hard.
"No privacy here. My house, my rules. Friday?"
"Seven, Boss."
"SEVEN," Tony repeated, but Peter was feeling it now and the adrenaline of his fight was wearing off. "I swear I am going to let Murdock hear about this," his mentor growled, as Dum-E rolled over with the medkit.
But he was gentle as he pushed Peter back against the cushions and got to work on the abrasions. Peter's spider enhanced healing would serve him well, but it still took time. Tony made him take super strong acetaminophen he'd worked on with Dr. Banner for super hero strength.
"Not much to do about the ribs," he said with real regret. "Which means you have to stay down, kid. Friday, let his Aunt May know, yeah?"
"On it, Boss."
Morgan returned with a very orange mouth and a blue popsicle in process.
"How many---?" Tony began and stopped. "Never mind. What I don't know I can't tell Mom."
"Seven," Morgan informed him helpfully, slurping on the blue one. "You can have some, Pete."
She came to lean over the back of the sofa and pat at his hair gently, already knowing that when he was here like this she had to touch carefully.
"That's okay, Morgs," he said, wincing a little as Tony swiped at the bruises on his face with an antibacterial wipe.
"Sorry," he said, but didn't sound it. It was the thing with Tony though, Peter thought drowsily as Ironman went hunting for the soft blanket, he was all bite even as he did everything possible to make sure the other person was safe and cared for.
Why they loved him after all. Peter and Pepper and Morgan. All of the Avengers.
Tony returned with the velvety soft grey blanket from Peter's room and tucked it around him. It was so warm and delicious.
"Mm, like a happy burrito," Peter slurred sleepily.
He could almost feel Tony's eyeroll.
"Cheeseburger," Morgan corrected. "They're better."
"And that's why your my favorite," Tony said immediately, removing the popsicle stick from her mouth. "All done. Crap, you're going to have such a sugar high."
He lifted his daughter into his arms and seated himself on the fat ottoman beside Peter's head.
"Can we get cheeseburgers?" Morgan asked.
Peter smiled at her.
"It's TWELVE---Nope. ONE FIFTEEN AM," Tony said with force. "And---" he paused.
"I could really put down some cheeseburgers, Mr. Stark," Peter said, the thought of them now making his stomach hurt even more.
There was a long silence.
"Cheeseburgers," Morgan whispered, touching her father's face gently.
Tony closed his eyes briefly and then ducked his head in defeat.
"Yeah okay, you two are awful. Friday, get us some cheeseburgers. Whatever's close and open." He glanced at Peter and pursed his lips in calculation. "Probably twenty."
Peter's mouth curled a little as Friday made the order. If Pepper had been here, no doubt he would be in the Stark's special medical wing of the penthouse they occupied when in the city. And well meaning as she was, Peter preferred Tony's way---the sofa, the blanket and the engineer's hand stroking Peter's curls as they waited for cheeseburgers and Morgan leaned on her father's shoulder, soothing herself by running her finger along one of the scars on his neck from the glove.
"Thanks, Mr. Stark," Peter murmured.
"Yeah, kid," Tony answered. "Still gonna pound Murdock for letting you get involved."
"I woulda anyway," Peter told him. "What we do."
Tony's hand stopped for a moment but then started to run through Peter's hair again.
"Yeah," he agreed quietly as Dum-E trundled in with a large Burger King bag, "it is."
i was just wondering if you can find any fics like this https://archiveofourown.org/works/71305431
where either tony lives or was just in a coma and hes awake, and its post far from home.
if the couple pairing is harley/peter that would be great as well
We have a lot under our Forgotten Peter Parker tag
but here’s one where Tony was in a coma
The world kept you like a secret, but I kept you like an oath by for_the_night
NWH SPOILERS
At 23:37 Doctor Strange casts a spell to make the universe forget Peter Parker.
At 23:36 Tony Stark's heart stops for three minutes. When he comes to, no one remembers his kid, but you best believe he's going to do everything he can figure out why. He isn't going to lose his Spider-ling again.
Dear Karma - TooAwkwardToFunction - Spider-Man - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
Tony Stark wakes up with a name on his tongue and one less arm than usual. He's apparently just been revived from the dead, three years after he sacrificed his life for the sake of the world. Why is it that he's the only one who knows who Peter Parker is now?
Cannot get the idea out of my head that when Peter comes back after the snap, nothing is the way it should be. Tony (who is alive and well, don't @ me) has his wife and his daughter and Peter knows that Tony cares about him - can maybe even convince himself that Tony loves him.
But Peter doesn't fit.
May is no longer grieving for Ben. She's dating, the apartment is different, she has a better job and Peter can't help but think her life was so much better when he wasn't in it.
He doesn't fit there either.
Ned and MJ are still around, having been snapped like him, but he doesn't know how to talk to them anymore. They didn't feel the pain of billions of people turning to ash when they were dusted. They don't get why Peter is so fucked up.
He just doesn't fit anymore.
Before the snap, there was someone. A sarcastic text message. A tinny voice through laptop speakers. A slightly pixelated face on facetime. Peter remembers the few times they met up in person, knowing they weren't ready to tell Tony they knew eachother, they weren't ready to tell anyone that they were so heartbreakingly in love.
So he leaves.
Peter hitchhikes all the way to fucking Tennessee, on the half chance that he'll find blond hair and a southern drawl that used to say his name like it was a prayer. He doesn't tell anyone he's leaving, he's convinced himself that they'll feel relieved to be rid of him. No one is there to tell him other wise.
He doesn't know if he'll find the same person he fell in love with, or someone who's lived five years without him. Peter is too scared to find out the phone number that could answer that question. So when he turns up in Rose Hill in the blistering heat, sweaty and bone weary, he hesitates.
His phone hasn't stopped ringing since he left, and when he digs it out of his pocket, it's Tony's name on the caller ID, a photo from before of the two of them in the lab reminding Peter of how different things are now. He answers.
"Peter?! Kid, where are you, are you okay? Are you hurt?" The questions come a mile a minute, and Peter just waits until Tony pauses.
"I'm alright. I just... There's something I have to do." His voice is shaky and guilt-heavy. Tony breathes a sigh down the phone, equal parts relief and frustration. He repeats his earlier question.
"Where are you?"
Peter hesitates, but in the end he decides, what has he got to lose.
"I'm in Tennessee"
"What-" Tony practically yells before taking a deep breath. "Why the hell are you in Tennessee?"
"I just needed to check something. Look, I promise I'm fine, but I have to do this. I'm sorry." He hangs up, turns his phone silent, and before he loses his nerve, he heads down the dusty trail to the address he memorized a year (five fucking years) ago.
It's like Harley was waiting for him.
The Rose Hill resident is on the porch with a cup of what is hopefully coffee and not something stronger, and a cigarette. Peter sees him and just keeps walking, his chest getting tighter despite the relief he feels at Harley looking the same as when Peter left on that fucking flying space donut.
Harley has thrown the cigarette, the coffee cup has smashed on the wooden porch, and Peter speeds up to match the pace of Harley's boots running down the drive. Peter throws his rucksack off his shoulder just in time for Harley to wrap his arms around the smaller boy.
Tears flow freely and without judgement between the two, hands are everywhere on every inch of skin visible, lips pressed to every available surface. Peter briefly thinks that he could face going back to New York as long as Harley is with him, he can face Tony and May and all the people he loves inevitably pushing him away, as long as he still has this.
When Harley says his name like the prayers they used to utter between sweat soaked sheets, when Peter sobs against his mouth, when Harley whispers "sweetheart", "darlin'", "Peter" like he's in confessional, Peter remembers what home feels like.
He fits in here. In Harley's arms is the only place that he still belongs.
okay but imagine little morgan yelling to tony about there being a spider in her tent thing so tony comes out to take care of it, and instead of there being a little spider or something there’s peter sitting there, surprising tony and pepper with visiting them from college
