Work Text:
Why me? Peter thought. This could literally only happen to me. The only thing Peter’s poor brain could process in the moment was his classmates’ shocked faces and his Dad’s shit-eating grin as he approached the group, accompanied by Dr. Pym.
Hold Up.
Rewind to what started this whole mess Peter found himself in.
Monday, 2 Days Before Disaster
The bell shrieked, and there was a mad scramble as students shoved last-minute classwork into their bags. Peter stood from his seat and immediately fell back down as Flash shoved his way past him.
Ned joined up with him in the hallway, and they made their way to the last period of the day: AP Bio.
They sat down in the class just as the warning bell rang, and their teacher, Mr. Woodhull began passing out a slip of paper. The bell rand and Mr. Woodhull shut the door, immediately having to turn around and open it for the stragglers.
“If you could try to be on time, that would be appreciated,” he chided. The students gave him no response except for ducking their heads and scurrying to their seats. Mr. Woodhull made his way to the front of the room, carefully avoiding backpacks as he went.
“Alright class, if you could please settle down, I have an announcement to make! If you look at your paper, you’ll see that we have been allowed to take you AP Bio-ers on a tour at one of the most prestigious tech companies around to go along with our Biotechnology unit!” Peter’s head snapped up in horror to stare at the teacher.
Ned leaned over and whispered, “Dude, do you think we’re going to Stark Tower? That would be so awesome, and like, you could-”
“Ned, shut up. Please,” Peter ordered checking frantically to make sure no one had heard the ‘whispering’.
“Now, this year, we’re going to be going to-” Please don’t be Stark Tower, please don’t be Stark Tower, please don’t be- “Pym technologies!” HELL YES!!!! Peter was so relieved. No embarrassing parents around there! Peter breathed out a sigh of relief and sank into his chair, stress-free (for now).
--------------------------------------------------------------
Peter walked into the kitchen, unsurprised to see his dad at the stove stirring some kind of creation that smelled divine.
“Hey, Pops. What’s crackalackin?” Peter asked, hopping on the counter.
“Your kneecaps if you don’t get your butt off that counter,” Pops threatened, waving his spoon. He’d been more playfully hostile to Peter once the teen had begun middle school and decided to change his term of address to ‘Pops’ instead of ‘Daddy’. His reasoning?
“Well for one, these days that word is… weird around high schoolers and stuff, and two, I’m pretty sure you're older than the earth itself, and that's an old word so I hereby dub thee Pops!”
Yeah. James didn’t think that that logic was sound, but-
“It’s either this or Not-Dad. Take your pick, old man.”
Pops it was, then.
Anyways, “Hey, uh, when you’re done with-” Peter made a vague hand motion at the stove “-whatever that is, can you sign this permission slip I got?”
James nodded. “Sure, kid. What’s it for?”
Peter scratched at his neck. “We’re going to Pym tech for a field trip on Wednesday!” Tony walked into the kitchen.
“Whatcha got there, Pete?” he asked. Peter started bouncing.
“Permission slip to go to Pym tech on Wednesday! I’m so excited!” he squealed. Tony raised an eyebrow.
“What’s so cool about that? You’ve been there before.”
Peter shrugged. “Yeah, I know. But now I get to go with my friends, and as a normal person, AND-” he leveled a glare at his parents. “-neither of you will be there to embarrass me!”
Tony chuckled. “Alright kid,” he ruffled Peter’s hair, blocking out his squawks of disdain. “Why don’t you drop your stuff in your room, then we can eat, okay?” Peter nodded and sprinted out of the room. Tony winced when he turned a corner too quickly and crashed into a wall.
“I’m good!” Peter shouted, then he was gone. Tony stood there staring at the spot his son had disappeared in.
“You think we should tell ‘im?” Tony asked his husband, a grin growing on his face.
“Nah,” James responded. “He’ll probably figure it out.” Tony gave him a look. “I didn’t say he’d figure it out in a timely manner. I love that kid, but my god, he’s oblivious sometimes.”
James went about setting up for dinner while Tony snatched the permission slip up from where Peter had left it on the counter and signed it.
“He’s going to hate us.”
-------------------------------------------------------------
Tuesday, 1 Day Before Disaster
Peter strolled into Mr. Woodhull’s class, and carefully turned in his permission slip. He was not going to screw up his chance to have a normal field trip - it was so incredibly lucky that there was no Stark Tower trip available because Peter knew that that would have been the end of him.
The last slips were collected, and Peter’s excitement ramped up by a thousand. He was practically vibrating, he was so excited.
For once, a normal field trip.
______________________________________
Wednesday, Disaster Iminent
The class boarded the bus at 7:45 A.M, and to Peter’s relief, everything was going smoothly. He, Ned, and MJ were sat in a row together, Flash had laid off a bit in insulting Peter, his dads had sent him off to school fairly easily. Peter was free from stress for a whole day. He could just sit back, relax, and enjoy the trip.
Or so he thought.
They entered the building, and immediately there were gasps of awe from the tour group. The interior of the lobby was quite a sight to see. The sleek, modern design would have been much more shocking if Peter hadn’t been living in Stark - owned buildings since he was a toddler.
Nevertheless, it was still pretty amazing to see what Pym Tech. looked like on the inside.
Peter’s attention was drawn away from the building when a cheerful looking young man walked over with a bundle of what looked like security passes in his arms.
“Hello! Is this the tour group from-” he took a quick glance at a sheet in his hands “-Midtown School?” Mr. Woodhull nodded. “Fantastic! Well, my name is Joshua Cornett, and I’ll be your tour guide for today! Let’s start off by passing out your tour badges. When I call your name, please come get one, and make sure you have it on you at all times.” He began listing off names.
Once everyone was situated with a badge, Joshua began the tour. They were led through multiple levels of labs and research areas, and each room had people working diligently, with some smiling or waving at the group as it passed by.
They were led into a long hallway, and decorating the walls was the timeline of the Ant-Man and the Wasp suits, and descriptions of how they worked. The class was amazed, Peter included. He knew very little about the Ant-Man suit, despite hanging out with Scott and Hope on multiple occasions. (But honestly, who was he kidding. Scott didn’t have a clue about how his suit worked.)
“Now, you probably won’t have a chance to see Dr. Pym today, as he’s in a meeting, but here we do have a little problem we like to ask our school groups, to potentially open doors for future internships or scholarships. So, if you could all grab a worksheet and take a seat, we can get this started! You may start whenever you like. “
Peter and Ned grabbed their worksheets and immediately started to work on them. Unfortunately, just as Peter was getting in the grove of starting the (admittedly pretty easy) chemistry and engineering problems, Flash and his little posse sat down within earshot of the two nerds.
“I bet I’ll do so well on this that I could score an internship at Stark Industries! And, it’ll be totally real, unlike Parker’s over there. Hey Parker!” he yelled now directing his comments at the resigned teen. “When I meet THE Tony Stark I’ll make sure to get an autograph for you! Oh wait, my mistake, you don’t need one!”
Peter absentmindedly waved a hand. “Yeah, sure. Go off.” He focused back on his worksheet, ignoring the whispers that were tainted with venom. I hate high schoolers.
He was so focused on ignoring the whispers that he didn’t notice when the mutterings got louder, chatter breaking out among the class.
“Well you guys,” Joshua’s shocked voice broke through Peter’s reverie. “Looks like we will be seeing Dr. Pym today! And he has a guest with him!” Peter looked up at that and regretted it instantaneously.
No. Nu-uh.
This was supposed to be a normal field trip.
Fuck.
He was done for.
Because there, standing at the entrance to the room, stood Dr. Hank Pym, accompanied by the one and only Tony Stark.
The Tony Stark that was currently staring at Peter with the world’s largest shit-eating grin. Peter leveled his deadliest glare on his dad.
I hate you with every fiber of my being. he mouthed. Tony’s grin only grew.
“Class, if you have any questions for these wonderful men, now’s a great time to ask!” Joshua encouraged.
Thirty-seven hands shot into the air.
Every single person had a hand in the air. Every person, that is, except Peter.
He was hiding in the back. Curling up to make himself smaller to hide behind Ned. But even from his vantage point, he could still see Flash’s hand waving wildly through the air.
Dr. Pym was looking for the first student to call on, and Peter’s heart clenched when he realized who was going to get picked. “You there! With the wavy hand!”
Flash shot Peter a sly glare, and Peter could tell that it didn’t escape Tony’s notice, who narrowed his eyes at the arrogant student.
“My question is for Mr. Stark.” Tony seemed to focus his attention in on the kid. “Sir, do you accept high school interns at Stark Industries?” Peter could see Mr. Woodhull make an aborted movement towards Flash, but he was too late to stop anything.
Tony seemed to think on it for a second, then he replied. “Well, it depends. Is the kid smart? A hard worker? Do they listen well to instructions? But, as a matter of fact-” Oh no “-we only have one high school intern with us at Stark Industries right now.” Here it comes. “In fact-” Peter’s going to die. This is it. This is the end of Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark-Barnes. “He’s in this room right now.”
Every. Single. Pair. Of eyes turned to Peter. His classmates in front of him parted like the red sea. He offered a shy smile and a little wave.
“Uhh, hi?”
Ned had a proud little smile on his face, while everyone else (except MJ) had a gobsmacked expression.
“Peter!” Tony cheered. “Wow! I didn’t expect to see you here today!” Tony stepped into the gaggle of children and hugged Peter. Peter reluctantly hugged back, and turned and whispered into Tony’s ear, far too quiet for anyone else to hear.
“I hate you so much right now. You’re no longer my favorite dad. You don’t get Peter- time until Saturday.”
Tony released him with a fake gasp of offense. “Petey, how dare you! I thought I was always your favorite!”
“Nope,” Peter turned and walked back into the students. “You’ll never be my favorite again because of this complete and utter betrayal.” He hides behind Ned.
“Really, kid? Hiding behind your friend? That’s low.”
“Ned won’t betray me. Ned’s a good friend. Unlike someone.”
The class watched the whole exchange with dropped jaws. The two of them got along so well, it was hard to reconcile the man they saw here with the billionaire playboy displayed in the media.
“Ted, was it? Scooch it. I need to get to the traitor.”
“Uhh- well… I- well, you see-” Tony gave him a look. “I- Mr. Stark you can’t have him, I kind of need my best friend. Sir.” Ned stuttered out. Tony stared at him appraisingly, then nodded and clapped him on the back.
“Good for you, kid, you passed the test. Petey here needs some friends he can trust.” He reached behind Ned to ruffle Peter’s hair. Peter squawked and swatted Tony’s hand away. “Well, I'll see you at the tower tonight, Pete, and you all,” he waved a hand to the rest of the class. “Well I doubt I’ll see any of you again so, bye!” he began to leave the room, but he passed by Flash and bent down to whisper, “Don’t come near that kid again, you hear me?” Then he straightened up and left. Dr. Pym stood there for a moment, watching him leave, then turned back to the class.
“Any more questions before you finish up here?”
===================================
The elevator dinged, and James looked over from where he was beginning to make dinner. Peter stepped out of the elevator and made a beeline to the couch.
“Hey, Pete, how was your-” Peter faceplanted into the cushions. “-day.” A long, drawn-out groan emanated from the couch. “Alright, sorry I asked.” James turned back to his pot.
“You’re now my favorite, Pops. Dad is now completely and forever in disgrace.”
Ahh. “He saw you after his meeting, then?” Peter lifted himself from the couch.
“You knew?” Peter’s voice was venomous. “You knew he would do that and you didn’t tell me?”
James chuckled. “Ahh, c’ mon kid, it couldn’t’ve been that bad.” he wandered over to the couch and sat down beside his son. Peter dropped his legs onto James’ lap.
“It was that bad, because after Dad left, they wouldn’t freaking leave me alone! It got so annoying!” he slumped back onto the couch, face buried in the cushions. James patted his ankle in consolation.
“You know what, kid? How about a nice prank on your old man, in revenge?” Peter peeked out of the cushion he was buried in. James could barely make out his muffled response.
“Like what?” James smirked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Screwing with his coffee?”
Peter looked shocked. “He loves his coffee.”
“I know.”
“He’s going to kill us.”
“Yes, most likely.”
“Let’s do it.”
-------------------------------------------------------
“Oh COME ON! WHO SWITCHED THE COFFEE TO DECAF?” No response. “Oh well, at least I can still make it sugary enough to stay awake.”
…
“WHO the FUCK SWITCHED THE SALT WITH THE SUGAR? PETER YOU LITTLE SHIT, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW! YOU TOO HONEY!”