Curate, connect, and discover
I wrote the first chapter of my HarleyPeter fic!!! Contains: An abundance of tired dad! Tony, a pair of awkward 17 year old boys, and some serious self confidence issues. Teen Romance really do Be Like That
“Red.”
“No.”
“Blue.”
“Nope.”
“Uhh, we’re running outta colours here. Green?”
At the breakfast table, Tony sighed loudly. “Pete, I want to dye my hair to piss Pepper off, not turn myself into walking radioactive waste. Not green.”
Peter threw up his hands. “What’s wrong with red! It’s cool, it’ll match your suit, and it’ll probably drive Miss Potts insane.”
“I’d need to dye my hair blonde before it went red, d’you know how bad that would be for it? I don’t want to destroy my follicles. They delicate things and my stylist will rip my head off entirely if I tamper with them.”
With a sigh, Peter raised the cup of coffee to his lips and took a large sip. It was common knowledge that Tony wasn’t particularly coherent before 11am and two double espressos, but Peter really hoped that Tony wouldn’t actually end up dying his hair. As amusing as that would be, Miss Potts would absolutely skin him alive, and Peter kind of liked having Iron Man around on hand to help him fight crime sometimes.
He was at the tower early on a Saturday for one reason and one reason alone: Science. Over the past few weeks he knew that Tony and Dr. Banner had been working on something big to do with green energy and were close to breaking through, and Peter couldn’t resist just asking to be part of it, simply to observe more than anything. Of course, Tony had said yes- and so here Peter was, ready to go down to Tony’s workshop and watch the magic happen. Dr. Bruce was supposed to be arriving sometime in the afternoon, so until then it’d just be him and Tony going through the specs and running simulations. He was practically buzzing with excitement- science was always fun, but science with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner?
God, sometimes Peter couldn’t even believe his life was real.
He chewed on a croissant absently as he scrolled through his instagram, grinning at some of the comments left on his photos. His profile was pretty famous- once Tony had bought him a good quality camera for his birthday, Peter had pretty much gone wild with the whole photography thing, and for some reason a lot of people on the internet had liked it, because he was on nearly 150,000 followers and counting. It was pretty trippy, really. He rolled his eyes at a comment he saw MJ had left- something mildly insulting about his choice of footwear- and then quickly shot off a reply, before switching off his phone and turning back to Tony, who had migrated from the table to one of the counters, where he was sat chewing on an apple and fiddling with the toaster.
“I thought you said you were gonna stop messing with Brian,” Peter told him with a frown, “he doesn’t like it when you tinker.”
“No, you think he doesn’t like it when I tinker, because for some reason you associate his low-pitched beeping with sadness,” Tony told him, tongue starting to stick out as he grabbed a screwdriver from his pocket, “he’s not actually sad. He likes upgrades. Look at him,” Tony held the machine up in his hands, grinning when the sentient toaster beeped three times, “he’s fine.”
Peter pulled a face, but let it drop. Sentient kitchenware was the norm in this place. “When are we gonna go down to the shop then?” He asked somewhat excitedly, fingers curling back around the mug of coffee on the table, “I’ll have to head home at about six for dinner, but I’ve got the rest of the day here.”
“Oh, lucky me,” Tony said, shooting a fond grin over at Peter, “as for the shop- you can head down whenever you want, as long as you don’t touch, tamper or blow up any of my stuff while you’re there.”
Peter pouted. “Then what’s the point of me going down at all?”
“To observe my brilliance and pure genius?” Tony tried, and then when Peter pulled an unimpressed face, he sighed loudly, “God, I swear kids used to be more respectful in my day. I swear you used to be more respectful. What happened?”
Peter grinned. “I got to know you,” he said simply, taking a sip of his coffee.
Tony glared at him and threw a corner of toast at his head, opening his mouth to undoubtedly curse Peter’s name- however he was interrupted by the sound of sliding elevator doors, and both of them turned to the sound of the noise. Peter subconsciously sat a little straighter- undoubtedly it’d be Miss Potts, and her immaculate visage always made Peter feel way too underdressed for- well- life.
But then the person stepped out, and Peter realised very rapidly that it was not Miss Potts.
It was, in fact, one of the prettiest people that Peter had ever seen.
The boy was maybe an inch or so shorter than Peter, with hair that curled over his forehead and fell into bright blue eyes. He was grinning cheekily from ear to ear and clutching a suitcase in his left hand, the other one shoved into the pocket of his jeans. He had an air of mischief about him, and he held himself with confidence and ease.
“Tony, your son has arrived,” he said, and Peter promptly inhaled his coffee.
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