Peter walked alongside Tony Stark, heading toward the Avengers’ personal living room. “So, kiddo, I was thinking about invisi-webs and webs that are both water and fireproof. What do you think?”
Peter’s eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark! That would be amazing! And what about making the suit waterproof and fireproof too? If I ever fall into a river or end up in a plane crash, I’d have a much better chance of surviving!” He sounded genuinely excited.
Tony paused, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You know what, kid? That’s a great idea. I’ll run it through FRI as soon as we get down to the lab. But first… pizza and ice cream?”
“Sounds great, Tony!” Peter grinned, his enthusiasm infectious. They entered the room, the scent of popcorn already filling the air.
“Also, kiddo,” Tony continued, “how about I upgrade the AI in your suit? You’d be able to call me automatically if, you know, a building happens to fall on you again.”
Peter looked down, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I can’t help that he wanted to kill me. I was only trying to help. I didn’t want Vulture to get his hands on that tech. If he had, half of New York would be dead!”
“Wait, what?” Tony and Peter turned to see Steve Rogers and the rest of the Avengers standing – or sitting – staring at Peter.
“Holy cow, it’s the Avengers!” Peter squeaked, unable to contain his excitement. “Mr. Stark, look! It’s the Avengers!”
Tony raised an eyebrow, amused by Peter’s reaction. “So, erm, Steve. Guys. Gang. Is ‘fam’ too much? Anyways, this is my personal intern, Peter Parker.”
Peter, overwhelmed, managed a weak, “Hey.” He was surprised he could even make a sound.
“Jesus, Tony, how old is this kid?” James Rhodes (Rhodey) asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
“Erm, I’m fifteen, mentally four, and I’m Spider-Man,” Peter blurted out, almost without realizing he’d said it. The room erupted into chaos.
---
An hour later, after Steve had finished yelling at Tony for bringing a child into the tower, and everyone else had silently wrestled with the implications of having fought a teenager, Peter had decided on a strategy. He’d hung upside down from the ceiling, hoping to distract them. It took about five minutes for someone to notice. A simultaneous shout of “What the hell, kid!” from Tony and “Peter Parker, get your sorry little butt off the ceiling right this minute or I will take away the suit!” from Steve echoed through the room. Peter’s eyes widened, and in a split second, he was back on the floor.
Currently, Tony, Peter, and Natasha Romanoff (who had taken a strong liking to the boy) were sprawled on the couch—Peter nestled between the two—while the rest of the team (sprawled on the floor or giant beanbags) watched *Elf*. They had an excuse: it was September, after all.