Peter crept as quietly as possible across the living room, attempting to sneak back into his room without either of his fathers noticing. He had seen the smoke from his bedroom window at about 1 that morning and without hesitation he put on the suit and ran to the aid of the people at the fire but now he was wishing he had planned his reentry into the Stark Tower a little better.

He was almost to the hallway leading to his bedroom when the kitchen light flipped on and light spilled across the floor. He paused mid step and held his breath, praying that perhaps he wouldn't be noticed but no such luck. Soon he was standing face to face with his dad, the older man clearly a bit surprised at his son's presence. Tony was clad in sweatpants and a black muscle tee, the light of the arc reactor shining through the fabric. The dark circles under his eyes were obvious proof of the man's lack of sleep and the sandwich that was pressed against his lips, not moving since he saw Peter, was probably the first thing he'd eaten in a few hours.

They both stood still a while longer, waiting for the other to talk first but Tony soon gave in, lowering his sandwich from his mouth. "It's past your curfew," he started, not knowing what else to say. His eyes drifted from his son's face to the mask held in the teen's hand.

Peter let out a sigh of relief when he realized that his father wasn't angry, grateful that Tony was the one to catch him instead of his red, white, and blue clad dad. He immediately began thinking of way to keep his pops from hearing about this, racking his brain for things that he could bribe his dad with.

Money was no good, his dad already had a whole lot of that, and he would offer to get his dad coffee every morning for the next year but Steve already had that covered so he settled for the one thing he could think of that would perk his dad's interest, despite how awful the idea of going through with it was.

"I'll do all the paperwork that Fury gives you for a month if you don't tell Pops," he bargained, silently praying that his dad would go with it but his face fell as the dark haired man began to shake his head.

"Peter, what kind of dad would I be if I let you get away with this kind of thing? You need to learn to take responsibility for your actions," his father reprimanded, a disappointed look on his face. Peter let out a groan, his face etched in a look of utter turmoil as he pictured the lecture he would receive from his pops in the morning but his face changed into one of curiosity as a grin spread across his dad's face. "I'm just messing with you. Make it two months and you've got yourself a deal," Tony said cheerily, hand not occupied by his late night snack outstretched for a handshake.

Peter visibly let out a sigh of relief, grabbing his dad's hand happily. "Thanks," he said and with that both heroes went on their way, Tony back to his lab with his sandwich, and Peter to bed.