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Tony watched Peter bounce in his seat, amused at the kid's excitement.
The dark gray Audi pulled into the drive in front of the Avengers Compound, Happy jumping out to open Peter and Tony's car door.
They both sidled out of the back, Peter gaping at the building's grandeur. Tony reached out and pushed the boy's jaw up, effectively shutting his mouth.
"C'mon, you've been here before," the billionaire teased, enjoying Peter's flustered expression.
"I know, it's just . . . so . . . awesome," he said, trailing off as he continued to stare. Tony chuckled and grabbed the boy's arm, leading him up the steps to the front door.
"We have the whole place to ourselves this weekend. I convinced the Avengers to take a break at Clint's house while you're here," Tony said, his voice echoing in the vast lobby. Peter, for once, gaped at Tony instead of the architecture.
"The Avengers are back? Since when? Are you gonna let me meet them? Probably not, I mean they don't know my identity, and I don't really want them—" the billionaire cut off the teen's rambling.
"Yes, the Avengers are back. Don't you watch the news?" Peter looked a little guilty. "And no, I don't want you meeting them. So yeah, they're back. Doesn't mean I trust them."
Tony tried not to let the boy's disappointed face get him down, instead proceeding through the Compound's layout. The billionaire would have plenty of time to cheer up his Spiderling.
"Okay, I have a couple things that I have to get done, so why don't you head to the kitchen and get a snack?" Peter smiled weakly and nodded, saying a small 'okay.' Tony grimaced and pat the boy on the shoulder before they parted ways.
Once Peter had disappeared into the kitchen, the billionaire sighed. He needed to get better at the whole 'relationships' thing.
* * * * *
Peter sighed, staring at his pizza dejectedly. He was a little disappointed that Tony had to ditch him for a bit. Okay, maybe more than a little disappointed.
He took a bite of the pizza, but it tasted like cardboard in his mouth, so he set it down. So much for that.
Suddenly, Peter heard a scuffle from down the hall. That was odd.
"Tony?" Peter wasn't quite sure why he was whispering. The boy stood up from his barstool and crept to the wall, peering around the corner. The bang of metal on metal made him stop in his tracks.
"Ugh, I need to get out more," someone groaned.
Peter whipped around, his back to the wall as tried to control his breathing. That most definitely was not Tony.
The teen peered around the corner again, looking at the man who lay flat on his back, a fallen vent cover next to him. Peter looked away when the man started to move.
Hide, you have to hide, Peter thought. He raced to the island he had been sitting at and crouched on the side opposite the hall where the strange man was.
Yes, this is totally a good spot, he thought sarcastically.
Peter was about to go find another hiding spot when another voice sounded from down the other hall where the rooms were.
"Clint, what are you doing?" A red-haired woman stepped into the kitchen, looking down the hall to where 'Clint' was. She looked familiar.
Oh my goodness. Natasha Romanov. Peter nearly had a heart attack right then and there.
"Just chillin'," the man, Clint replied. Wait. Clint, as in Clint Barton, as in Hawkeye Clint Barton? This keeps getting better and better.
"Yep, totally. It's definitely natural to lay on the ground for no reason with a vent cover." Natasha walked over to the pantry, sticking her head inside.
"Yes, it's totally reasonable," Clint said incredulously. Peter was too focused on the conversation overhead to notice Bucky standing right in front of him.
"Nat, get Steve," Bucky said gruffly. Peter turned his head sharply, looking up at the ex-assassin. So this was fear.
Natasha retreated from the pantry, an bag of chips in hand. "Hello to you, too."
Bucky continued to stare at Peter. "We have a problem."
The boy tentatively raised his hand and waved, smiling shyly. He screamed when Bucky lunged forward, grabbing Peter's wrist and pulling his arm up so high the teen could barely touch the ground.
Clint came around the corner just then, jaw dropping in surprise. Natasha dropped her bag of chips, eyes wide.
"I'll . . . go get Steve."
* * * * *
"Boss, the Avengers are requesting your presence in the kitchen."
Tony looked up from his StarkPad. The Avengers? They were supposed to be at Clint's, not in the kitchen . . .
Oh, sweet Jesus.
The billionaire bolted from his desk chair and out of the empty conference room. He decided to take the stairs, going down three steps at a time.
He raced into the kitchen, surprised to see everyone there. Steve turned around and walked up to him.
"Tony, we found—"
The billionaire interrupted him, holding up a hand. "Cut the crap, I know who you found. Let me through."
Steve looked shocked, to say the least. Still he stepped aside, and Tony walked forward. He was not happy with what he saw.
Peter was sitting in a metal folding chair, thick ropes tying his arms to the sides and his ankles to the legs of the chair. A piece of silver tape covered his mouth. The poor boy looked terrified, but the billionaire could see the trust in his eyes when he saw Tony.
The man ran forward, kneeling on the boy's level before ripping the tape off his mouth. Peter groaned, moving his lips to help adjust to the open air.
"Was that really necessary, Tony?" Peter said, smirking slightly. The man didn't respond, instead turning to stare at each Avenger in turn. They had all taken a step forward like they were going to try to stop Tony from reaching his kid.
"Do you want to tell me what this is about? And maybe, while you're at it, you can explain why the heck you are all here when we specifically agreed that you would be at Barton's for the weekend," Tony shouted, walking towards them until he was up in their faces.
"Bucky found the kid hiding by the island, and we didn't know what to do with him so we called you," Natasha explained emotionlessly. Tony clenched his teeth.
"So you thought it would be a good idea to tie him up, right? Yeah, let's tie up the fifteen-year-old kid of the man who just risked his reputation and safety to give us a place to live! That sounds like a great idea," the billionaire said sarcastically.
The four in front of him looked shocked. Tony turned around, beginning to untie the ropes trapping his kid. Peter looked shocked as well.
"Tony, we didn't know he was your kid," Clint said quietly. The billionaire scoffed.
"And that totally makes it okay. Just because you didn't know he was mine."
"We're so sor—"
Tony held up a hand, and Steve shut up immediately.
"You disgust me. Get out of my sight," Tony commanded. He watched as they filed out of the kitchen and down the hall, into their respective rooms. The billionaire turned back to his kid with a sigh.
"This is why I have trust issues."
Peter laughed, a genuine, fun-filled laugh. Tony couldn't help but smile, too.
"That was awesome, Dad! Did you see their faces? They were all like so depressed, it was great! And then they—are you okay?" The boy stopped rambling, looking at Tony, who had stopped functioning entirely.
Peter was confused. "Was it something I said? What did I—oh. Oh! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry Tony, it just slipped out—"
Suddenly, the billionaire was crushing Peter in a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around the boy. Peter stiffened at first, but slowly began to melt into the embrace.
"It's okay, Pete. It's more than okay." Tony could feel the teen smiling into his shoulder, and the billionaire grinned, too.
They stayed that way for awhile, Tony's arm wrapped around Peter and another in his hair, and Peter with his one free arm wrapped around his father figure.
Tony hoped Peter knew how much he loved the kid. He squeezed tighter.
"Um, Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you untie me now? "