The Stark-inator

Tony sighed heavily as he watched footage from the Baby Monitor Protocol, live. The kid was off on his shots, barely attaching to buildings in time, and far too early in other shots. He pursed his lips, leaning forward on his arms as he glanced at the brick and mortar that passed with each dropping swoop.

"Where on earth are you going?" The brunette sighed brushing a black grease stained hand through his locks—not particularly caring if any of it stuck to him.

"That seems to be the address on file for one-" Friday was cut off as the kid slipped into a window, feet landing soundly as he ripped off the mask.

"Dude, door. You could knock." Ned's voice filtered in through the audio line.

"Spider-Man never knocks," Peter chirped back. Tony could imagine the cheeky grin that had graced the kid's lips. He'd seen if before when Peter was in a bouncy mood much like he is. The kid could spout off responses with so much confidence, that when he went back to normal Peter, it was painful to watch.

"You're right," Ned hummed, a lilt to his voice. "Your man in the chair does all the knocking."

Tony snorted, his own grin finding it's way to his face. If Peter and Pepper were his two absolute favorite people in the world, Ned Leeds was working his way up to third or fourth—given Rhodes and Happy are second. Then it would definitely be Bruce and Ned fighting for third. It just all depended on the type of mood Tony was in that day.

Speaking of moods.

"D-dude! Dude wait! I have to-" Oh boy. That was a noise. Well.

"Friday! End it! Turn it off!" Tony scrambled to shut the protocol down. "Holy sweet jesus," The amount of color that flooded into the inventor's cheeks was staggering—Tony didn't know he had that much blood in his body, nor did he think he'd ever be flustered like a teenager. "Oh, my god." Tony squeaked softly staring at the screen. "Delete. Delete that fucking day's file! The entire thing! Oh. My. God."

"It has been deleted, and completely erased sir." Friday's voice was almost a giggle. The AI was enjoying this far, far too much. "Your heart rate is rather high sir, should I send medical assistance?"

"No! No...Just...Give me a sec, Friday."

"Of course sir. It has been one second sir."

"I will shut you off, you sassy little thing!" Tony squawked out.

"Tony?" Steve's voice called through the door. Tony had nearly forgotten they were there; he tended to make himself scarce around the group as they had too many questions about the kid that had visited more and more frequently with the end of school. "You okay? Friday said your heart rate was high..."

"Oh my god," Tony whispered, glaring at both the camera for Friday, and the door that blocked Steve from view. "I'm fine! I am absolutely fine! Friday, call Happy!"

"Calling Happy." The phone rang loudly, as it attempted to connect the signal.

"Hey boss," Happy yawned softly brushing his hand over his head. Tony stared down at the face on his screen, his own eyes slightly bulging at the moment.

"Do you know where the kid is right now?" That flipped a switch. Happy jumped from slightly sleepy, resting his head on the back of the Parker couch, to on his feet and rushing towards the door. "No! No no, he's not in trouble. He's definitely...Not..."

"If he's not in trouble...then why?" Happy sighed shooting an annoyed glare towards his boss slash friend. "May is gonna be home any second, so hurry up."

"Did you know that Ned...and Pete? Are...ya know?" Tony poked his fingers together. Happy simply arched a brow at the motion and crossed his arms.

"Seriously? That's what you're calling about?" Happy groaned collapsing back onto the couch. His hand brushed over his face again as he huffed out a breath. "May and I have a bet going, to see who confesses first."

"Uh...Confess as in how? Because...they seemed to be pretty friendly just now!" Why was Tony the only one freaking out about the innocent kid losing his card? Why is that a thing? Why was no one else losing their minds? Because Tony's was definitely exploding at the moment!

"What do you mean?" Happy sighed, and Tony could imagine the way he was pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. "Tony, he's being a teenager. Besides,were you listening in through the mask again? This kid is going to get a restraining order against you at this rate."

"His heart rate picked up while he was in the suit! In Stark technology! I got worried and had Friday check in on him! And and...Happy! You need to go pick the kid up, like yesterday! Like don't even knock, get over there and save my kid!" Tony's arms flailed animatedly around him as he paced the floor of the lab. The idea of Peter giving it up to someone had him in a ruckus; as Bucky would call it.

"Relax Tony," Happy grunted, rather delighted by the entire situation. "I'll go pick up the kid, jeez."

"You're picking up Peter?" May's voice echoed from the background. "Why? He's just with Ned!"

"May!" Tony called out turning towards the screen that Friday had pulled up with the call. "May, he is not just with Ned..." He stared at the woman through the screen. "He is WITH Ned. Like.."

"Oh," May's mouth smirked as she crossed her arms. "About time."

"What?!"

"Bye Tony!" Happy called cackling before the screen went black.

"Oh my god," Tony gaped, arms drooped by his side.

"Friday," He whispered glancing around the lab, slightly shocked. Even though he shouldn't be, Tony himself had been rather promiscuous at Peter's age, but the kid was different! He was pure, and light hearted! He wasn't even supposed to know what sex was! So why in the hell was he having it!?

"I have a favorited list boss," Friday's voice snickered around him. She was far too amused with the situation to find any reason to comfort his boss. "Of Peter's baking recipes if you would like to give them a go."

Tony could have shot a glare at the snarky response from his AI, but he couldn't really be bothered with it.

"I am not about to bake! That is...That's the kid's trope! I am.."

"You are stressed and currently over reacting boss. Should I alert anyone to let them know?"

"I...Whatever. Pull up a recipe," He muttered wiping his hands on grease stained denim before heading to the elevator. He still couldn't help the amount of shock that resided in his stomach from the call. He would have to talk to the kid about safety and everything later—but he didn't want to have to have that conversation at all.

"Creme Puff Pastry loading," Friday's voice snarked as the recipe pulled up on the screen of the television mounted in the kitchen. "Difficulty: Intermediate. You should be able to figure it out boss."

"You getting ready to bake?" A voice questioned from behind Tony, causing the inventor to jump in his own pants.

Tony turned on his heel, shooting a soft glare at none other than Steve Rogers. His lips were pursed in a self conscious manner as he glanced between Tony and the screen. The man looked as if he were ready to be reprimanded, and Tony couldn't really blame him. He hadn't exactly been kind since he had returned.

"I...Yea..." Tony sighed dragging a hand through his hair. "Wanna help?"

Steve smiled just a bit; just a small rise in the corner of his lips.

"Sure." He moved to grab the flour and measuring cups from the cupboards.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter called as he rushed into the dining area of the compound. His face was flushed as his feet skid to a halt in front of a lovely pile cream puffs that looked relatively freshly baked. "Mr. Stark, sorry I'm late!" He grabbed one of the small pastries shoving it into his mouth without a second thought.

And it was the worst decision of his life.

By far.

By far, by far.

There was a gritty texture to the cream, and the doughy part was definitely not fully cooked, and there was most definitely too much salt somewhere in the recipe. Peter scrunched his nose, before rushing over to the garbage can in the corner of the kitchen.

"Oh that is bad, that is really really bad. Where did Mr. Stark order those," He spitting the vile pastry out of his mouth.

"Mr. Stark is currently in his private room. I'll alert him that you are here Peter." Friday's voice echoed in the kitchen, leaving wanting for social interaction.

"Sweet, thanks Friday." Peter grabbed a water bottle from inside the fridge to rinse his mouth out before settling in the living room and tugging out a math book. He settled in to do the last few of the problems that he hadn't gotten to the night before.

"Hey kid," Tony hummed settling himself on the recliner across the living room. The fluffy towel he had used to dry his hair.

"Hey," Peter smiled, tucking his book away for later. "So what are we doing in the lab today?"

"We are going to have a very adult conversation first, actually." Tony grasped his hands together, leaning his forearms on his legs, and hunching his back. "About...uh...About some safety measures."

"Safety...measures..."Peter's brow furrowed softly as he cocked his head. "Okay...about what? Is there something wrong with the suit?"

"No kid," Tony shook his head licking his lips as he stared directly ahead. A bead of anxiety began to form in Peter's chest as he watched his mentor. Something was going on, and he wasn't sure how happy he was about it. "We need to have a conversation about when you love someone...And that love becomes physical."

All of the blood in Peter's body flooded straight to his cheeks. Tony had never seen the kid get so red; he was pretty sure it was actually fairly impossible. There was a tremble to his hands and shoulders that hadn't been there when they sat down.

"Oh my god, Mr. Stark," Peter squeaked out throwing his face into his hands exasperated. "Oh my god...No. We are not...no."

"Kid, I record everything in the suit and you and Ned….You weren't….ya know really discreet." Tony fidgeted anxiously. The inside of his cheek continually found its way between his teeth.

"Oh my god. I quit," Peter gasped glancing up mortified. Tony couldn't hold back the soft chuckle that escaped. "I quit. I'm not being Spider-Man anymore. Oh my god," He jumped up and reached for his backpack. Embarrassment flooded his bones, and oozed out of every breath he took. "I-I can't believe..."

"Calm down kid," Tony coughed to hide his amusement.

"So you're finally having sex," Steve walked in, a book in his hand and glasses barely on the bridge of his nose; Tony had paid him twenty dollars to use his PSA voice.