Peter and Tony One Shots

Dad's the Word

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****************************************************************************************************Peter's POV***
It was a quiet Monday afternoon and I'd just got home from school. I'd been living in the Avengers Compound for nearly ten years, after they adopted me when I was nearly seven. I headed into the communal lounge, seeing my Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky playing a game of Battleships. "Hey guys, what's up?"
"Not much, kiddo. Do you want to play when we've finished this round?"
"No, I'm alright, thanks though. Hey, have either of you seen Aunty Nat or Uncle Clint? They said they'd help me with some training down in the gym." I asked them, already ten minutes late for the training session.
"No, but your dad just headed to the gym. Maybe he's seen them?" Uncle Steve said with a triumphant smile as he sunk Bucky's ship.
"Alright, thanks." I replied and headed towards the elevator which took me down three floors to the gym. Stepping out, I saw Tony attacking the punching bag. "Hey, Tony, how's it going?"
"It's ok, what are you up to?" Tony asked, wiping his brow and turning to face me.
"I was supposed to train with Uncle Clint and Aunty Nat but I can't find them." I complained, taking a swig from my water bottle.
"Want to train with me instead?" He asked with a smile, and I nodded enthusiastically. He chucked a pair of boxing gloves at me and said, "let's spar."
I ran into the ring and held my hands up, ready to defend myself. "Come on then, kiddo." He took a swing, but I ducked out of his way. "Too slow, old man!" I joked, taking a jab at him but missing.
"There's some things you didn't learn in primary school." He responded, raising his glove and aiming for my chest. Before he could strike me, I noticed he'd left his face exposed, so I pounded him square on the nose.
He yelped with the impact and staggered backwards. It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. "Dad! Jesus, are you ok? I'm so sorry!" I yelled, rushing to his side, and barely noticing the slip of my tongue that addressed him as "dad".
"Yeah, Pete, I'm fine. God, kid, you're quick." He said with a laugh, gingerly touching his nose.
"Is it broken?" I asked nervously, thankful it wasn't bleeding.
"No, it's fine. I have to go, though." He said abruptly, turning around and strolling towards the elevators.
Suddenly I realised what it was. It was the fact I called him dad. I'd never done that before. He must hate me. I'm not his biological kid, he probably doesn't even view me as a son. I told myself again and again, my heart rate increasing with every new thought. I raced up the stairs, choosing not to take the elevators. Rushing into my room, I slammed the door and began to pace around.
     Meanwhile, I heard a faint knock at my door. "Yeah? Who is it?" I managed to sigh, panic surging through my voice as I kept replaying my mistake in my head. "Hey, Peter, it's only me." Aunty Nat said, poking her head around the door. "Are you ready to train-" She broke off as she saw the state I was in. Without hesitating to ask what was wrong, she yelled at the top of her lungs: "Tony!"
Mr Stark came running towards my room and, with a confused look upon his face, said, "what? What's wrong?"
"Peter." She responded briefly, and hurriedly left the room.
     "Peter, what's wrong?" He asked abruptly, pulling me onto the bed so I could sit down and catch my breath. "I'm sorry if you hate me." I whispered, not being able to look him in the eye.
"Hate you? Why on earth would I hate you?" He asked suddenly, even more confused than when he had arrived. "I called you 'dad' and you ran away. I know I'm not your son but I didn't mean to and I won't call you 'dad' anymore if you don't like it." I gabbled, desperately trying to fix my error.
"Don't like it? Peter, it made me so happy. I only left so I could get this." He picked something from out of his pocket and showed it to me. It was a small key ring with the words "World's Greatest Son" written on it.
     "I found this in one of my dad's drawers when I was around eight. He never gave it to me but I kept it all these years so that one day, I could pass it onto my own son. That's you." He said with a smile and I beamed at him. "Thank you...dad." I whispered, hugging him tightly.
"I'll tell you something, Pete."
"What?"
"Now you're going to have to buy me ten Father's Day presents to make up for all the times you haven't gotten me a gift." He said with a laugh and I, with a content feeling in my heart, said:
"You're on."