Archive of Our Own

tony: hey are you still coming over later?

peter: yeah ofc

peter: wait why

tony: wanted to chat to you about something

-

Peter Parker received that text message one lunchtime on a Wednesday whilst sat in the Midtown High School cafeteria. It immediately set off alarm bells in his head. Wanted to chat to you about something — that was always code for bad news. 

Had Peter done anything stupid in the last twenty four hours since he’d seen Tony? 

Peter mentally scoured through his calendar. Last night he’d gone on patrol, stopped some muggings, but hadn’t done anything that he deemed truly controversial, really. He hadn’t been stabbed or anything stupid like that. Then he’d sent some emails for the company in the morning, set up some meetings and sent a couple of texts to Pepper about some of the interns’ projects, but again, nothing out of the ordinary. And Peter definitely hadn’t done anything contentious whilst he was at school, no. So what was Tony going to say? 

Peter’s brain spiralled into irrational musings. Shit, his suspicions had come true. Oh god, Tony didn’t want him to be the heir anymore. Tony didn’t want anything to do with him, had finally come to his senses and had seen how weird it was to be entrusting his company to a teenager with hardly any managerial skills. Peter had known it wouldn’t last, but he’d hoped he was doing an okay job. 

Pepper was probably pregnant, Peter mused. Tony had said they were thinking about having a kid. Maybe Tony was going to awkwardly take his heir declaration back now they were having a child — an actual child, because Peter had always kind of been like their stand-in kid. That was okay, Peter thought, a little sadly. He could totally handle it. 

“What’s happening to your face?” MJ asked bluntly. Most people would ask if he was okay, because Peter’s face had contorted into one which had pain, upset and disappointment written all over it, but hey, that was just MJ. 

Peter scooted over to MJ and Ned, and held out his phone. “Look at these texts. That’s bad, right?”

“What do you mean?” Ned asked, frowning at the display of messages. MJ peered at the screen too.

“Wanted to chat with you about something?!” Peter blurted out. "That’s like, code for bad news, right?”

Peter’s friends glanced at each other.  

“Well, I don’t know,” Ned bit his lip. “It depends on like, a lot of factors.” 

MJ frowned, shook her head. “I don’t think it is a bad thing. You’re probably overthinking it.” 

Peter shook his head in denial. “No, it’s definitely bad. Tony never talks like that, never texts to make sure I’m coming. He knows I am. He doesn’t like texting, in any case.” 

“Well, you don’t have to go, you could come over and hide at my place, build some lego,” Ned offered. “If you don’t want to hear it, delay the talk or whatever.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, considering it. He did like procrastinating difficult emotional conversations, and any amount of time he could hold onto his heir title for just a little bit longer, the better. Oh god, what if Tony didn’t let him into R&D anymore…he’d grown rather attached to the interns and their projects. Would they get a new boss if Tony fired him as the heir? Maybe Peter could lobby the prospect of still remaining the intern director even if the heir title went to the baby.

“But it might be good news,” MJ made a counterpoint, and Peter swung around to look at her. 

“Not helping!” Peter hissed, not actually mad. “Thanks, Ned, but honestly if I say no now then he’ll probably come and pick me up himself, and I don’t want that to happen again.” 

Last time Peter had cancelled on Tony last-minute (it had been a sensory overload day and Peter wasn’t in the mood to do a bunch of lab work), Tony had freaked out at Peter’s minimal responses and had swung by Midtown in the Jag to come and check he was okay. Peter was grateful that it wasn’t the Lambo, at least, because explaining that to his classmates would have been difficult. Instead of complaining at Tony’s sudden appearance, he’d just collapsed into the seat and had let Tony drive them back to the Tower, where they’d sat quietly and watched movies at a low volume with a bowl of popcorn instead of having a lab session. 

Tony was such a good dad, it was awesome having someone like that in his life. Peter was so grateful. 

Or, well, he had been so grateful, because now Tony was going to let him down gently by telling him about the new baby, and Peter would never get to see him again because he’d be being an actual parent. Peter found himself scrolling through his photo album of the pair of them as he walked to his next class after lunch finished, miserably looking at all of the cool selfies he and Tony had together, goofy ones and actual posed ones. 

Damn, and he and Tony had just started to get close as well. 

By the end of the day, Peter was thoroughly miserable. Ned and MJ had attempted to convince him not to be all doom and gloom, but had ultimately failed. Peter was 100% confident that Tony’s news was going to be about a new baby and that Peter would be forgotten, cast aside. There had just been too many hints. 

May had nudged him the other day and said, “Tony is just such a dad, isn’t he? He’s going to be the best dad ever,” after the man had bought them tickets to Peter’s second favourite Broadway musical. May had smiled at Peter when he’d brought the tickets home. 

“Yeah,” Peter had mumbled back, feeling the ache in his stomach at the thought that Tony was already such a good dad, to him, not to the prospective baby who wasn’t even in existence yet. 

And then Tony had poked him a couple weeks back and had said, “We’re not going to be around this weekend. Pep and I are heading to Malibu, having some adjustments made, getting a room ready,” He’d winked at Peter, but Peter’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach at the idea of it. 

And it was stupid, really, to be jealous of a non-existent fetus, of a future that was yet to happen, of a life and a family he wasn’t going to be a part of. But the last year had been so good, and Peter wasn’t ready to let it all go. He was never going to be. He hadn’t voiced his fears about it—any of it, to May or Ned or MJ or anyone, and especially not Tony or Pepper. It was stupid, he knew he wasn’t going to be part of the Stark’s family when they had an actual baby to focus on, but he didn’t want to watch them fade away from him, be ripped out of his life just like that. 

He’d been expecting it, really. A text message like that from Tony, one ready to pull the plug on the whole heir thing. It wasn’t working out, probably, even though that one time Peter had run the company in Tony and Pepper’s place, he’d singlehandedly made productivity increase by 22% across the entire company. He wasn’t good enough, he knew it. He should have spent more time with the interns, gone to more board meetings. Been better, done more. 

Shit, Peter just really didn’t want to let them go. 

So by the time it was time to get in Happy’s car and drive back to the Tower, Peter was depressed, mind spiralling with possibilities and ways to convince Tony to let him stay. Ways to be better, to do more. In the car he sent about five emails, responding to interns with particularly in-depth and personal messages, just in case it was the last time he was able to. 

“You’re quiet today,” Happy commented. 

“Sorry,” Peter apologised, wondering whether Happy knew the news, whether he was frowning at Peter to see whether he knew. “I’m— it’s been kind of a weird day.” 

“No rants to me about Mr Harrington?” Happy asked. “Is he giving you the right Calculus work now?” 

Peter chuckled bleakly. “Yes—yes he is. Tony set him straight, I think. Lots of college-level work for me.”

“Well, I for one am glad that Tony got involved,” Happy said, looking in his mirror to check behind him.

“Yeah, same,” Peter whispered, trying not to let his voice crack. “Tony’s the best.”

He wasn’t entirely successful, his voice cracking halfway between ‘the’ and ‘best’. 

“Kid, are you okay?” Happy checked, tearing his eyes away from the road. “No rants, no— is it that Flash kid again because I will turn around and go and give him a talking to if you want—” 

“No, Happy,” Peter interjected, exhaled, “I’m fine.” 

“Hmm, okay, well you better tell Tony about it,” Happy raised an eyebrow. “He’s in a good mood, today, but I’m sure he’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” 

Tony was in a good mood. Peter’s heart sunk even further. Surely that just confirmed it. Peter sat in miserable silence for the rest of the journey, and Happy hummed along to some songs that played on the radio as Peter stared at the New York he knew and loved out the window. 

When they arrived at the Tower, Peter considered just slinking off to R&D and going and helping his favourite interns with their projects instead of going straight to Tony’s lab, but Happy came with him in the elevator and pressed the button for the floor Tony’s lab was on as well as the floor for security, which was lower down in the Tower. 

Happy made small talk and then left when the elevator arrived at his floor. He waved, and Peter limply waved back, his arms feeling weak. He stood silently, trying to calm his heart rate as the elevator moved up the floors.

“Peter, are you well?” FRIDAY asked, breaking up the silence. “Your vitals are significantly higher than—” 

“I’m fine, FRIDAY,” Peter interjected, squeezing his eyes closed. “I’m fine.” 

The elevator door dinged open and Peter opened his eyes to the familiar lab space, Tony frowning at a hologram as he worked on a project for SI. Tony turned around with a smile on his face. “Oh, hey Pete!” 

Yeah, the billionaire was in a good mood. 

“Hi, Tony,” Peter said with a small smile, doing everything to make himself seem normal. 

“So, Pete, sit down,” Tony sat, balancing on one of the stools they kept around the lab and patting another stool close to him. Peter balanced himself and then wandered forwards, collapsing in one of the chairs, looking at the way Tony was beaming and tried to stop the tears from falling. 

He was really going to miss their little lab sessions. 

“You said—” Peter’s voice hitched, and he hoped Tony didn’t notice. Peter thought he was doing a pretty good job of keeping his face clear of any emotion. “You said you had something you wanted to talk about?” He inquired.

“Yeah,” Tony said, paused. He took a deep breath and then launched into it. “I was thinking, about us, and the whole you being the heir to the company and all—” 

Peter tuned out of the conversation, his body slumping in his chair and brain shutting down. He was still looking at Tony, but hearing none of the words. So he’d been right. This was the end, he was officially being replaced by someone who didn’t exist yet. He’d been picturing the worst all day, and it was coming true. Peter wasn’t going to be the heir anymore, or probably even the intern director. It wasn’t fair, though, because surely he could still do the job better than an infant. The kid wasn’t even born, it wasn’t fair to just give away his title like that.

Peter jerked himself out of his contemplative state to hear one tidbit of Tony’s speech.

“It won’t change anything about us, just a legal thing really,” Tony continued, and Peter had no idea what he was talking about but presumed it was filling in paperwork to renege his title, the opposite of the stuff he’d signed when he had to confirm he was okay with being the heir.

“So, what do you say?” Tony concluded, staring up at him. There was a pause. “Pete?” 

“Well,” Peter replied bitterly, his voice wobbly and unstable. “I guess I have to say yes.”

“Peter?” Tony put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? I thought—I thought you’d be happy?”

“Happy,” Peter muttered, as though it was a foreign concept. In what world could Peter be happy that he was being cut out of Tony’s life forever? 

“May thought it was a good idea,” Tony retracted his hand from his shoulder, sounding unsure.

“May?” Peter mumbled, momentarily hurt that May had known before him about the baby, and then realising that that made no sense. May would never have suggested that his heir status get reneged, she knew how important it was to him. “May doesn’t have anything to do with this, don’t you mean Pepper?”

And hell, it hurt that it had been Pepper who’d been the one to say Peter didn’t deserve to be the heir anymore, it hurt so much, but that hurt less than the idea that Tony had decided that. Because god, if it had been Tony’s idea, that would have stung him down to his core. 

“Of course she does,” Tony disagreed. “She’s your legal guardian, she has to sign the papers for your name to be changed.” 

“Oh,” Peter said, glad for the clarification, and then paused. “Wait, what?”

His name to be changed?

“Well,” Tony looked at him as though he was being stupid. “In order to change your name we have to sign a lot of paperwork, I know you’re the heir and we had to do a bunch of paperwork to make that work, but name changes are kind of the same bud. Lots of legal papers.” 

“Wait, so I’m still going to be the heir?” Peter asked, his hopes raised. “The new baby isn’t going to replace me?” 

He had no idea what Tony was talking about, because a name change didn’t make sense. Peter was fairly comfortable being called Peter. Maybe Pepper wanted to call their new kid Peter, and therefore wanted Peter Parker to change his name so there wasn’t two of them, but that seemed a little weird, and he doubted it. More likely it was some legal paper that made both him and the new baby Tony’s heirs within the eyes of the law. 

“Peter…” Tony blinked, paused. “Huh?” 

Peter stuttered. “I thought— I thought the new baby coming meant that you were going to renounce me as your heir, so the baby could be formally announced as your heir?” 

“Peter,” Tony said softly. “We’re not—we’re not having a baby yet. Pepper’s not pregnant.” 

“She’s not?” Peter’s mouth dropped open. Then—then what had the whole conversation even been about?  Shit, Peter should have been listening. 

“No, she’s not.” Tony confirmed, looking at him weirdly. 

“But—but, the room in Malibu,” Peter said, his eyes stinging with tears. Had this whole thing just been a giant misconception?

“It’s for you, kid, the room,” Tony said, getting off his stool and crouching down to look Peter in the eyes. “It’s for you, not for a baby.”

Oh. But if there was no baby…

“So then,” Peter said, bewildered, “What did you ask me here to chat about?” 

“Oh, Pete,” Tony let out a chuckle. “Were you not listening to my whole spiel about legally adopting you and sharing your guardianship with May?” 

“You’re going to…” Peter whispered. “What?” 

“Well, we thought it was about time we made it official,” Tony scratched the back of his neck. “That you’re my kid. Legally. May suggested it, I mean. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

Tony shook his head, let out an exhale. “God, this is why I told her that she should have this talk, I can’t believe you thought I was having a baby, what did I say to make you think that?!”

“Sorry,” Peter swallowed, “It’s just my brain, it was thinking a lot of things today.” 

“Well, bud, I’m sorry. Let’s try this again, shall we?” Tony pointed at his face. “And listen, this time, okay?”

Peter did, nodding. 

“I would like to formally adopt you, so that I am legally recognised as one of your guardians. It won’t change anything between us, you’ll still be the heir, just a legal change and signing some papers. And, well,” Tony swallowed, “Part of that would give you the option to change your name, and we—May, Pepper and I— wanted to give the opportunity for you to become Peter Parker-Stark, if that’s something you wanted. Hyphen, and all.” 

“Stark,” Peter whispered, brain entirely broken because that was—that was so—that was. 

There was a pause where no-one said anything. Tony looked at his face, and clearly made an assumption. “It’s stupid,” Tony waved it off, looking at the floor. “You don’t— you don’t have to, just a suggestion—”

Peter shook his head violently, wanting to correct the misconception immediately. “Of course I do. You want me to…to have your name?” Peter asked, still in complete awe. “I’m not—your legacy—I’m just me, just Peter…” 

“You’re not, though,” Tony shook his head, scooting closer. “You’re Peter goddamn Parker, and you’re my kid, whether you take my last name or not. But you’re the heir to my company, and shit, kid, I love you so much.” 

Peter blinked. “Of course I want to take your last name, being Peter Parker Stark, that’s,” his voice broke completely. “That’s like everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” 

And it was, it really was. 

“You’ll do it?” Tony asked, in a low voice that sounded like he was about to cry, too. Peter had been on the verge of tears ever since receiving the text message earlier that morning. “You’ll be Peter Parker-Stark, let me be your—your dad of sorts?” 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I’d really, really like that.” 

“Fucking hell, thank god,” Tony let out a sigh of relief, and encased Peter in a bear hug that was so tight Peter could hardly breathe. Tony released him and grinned. “Peter Parker-Stark.” 

“Peter Parker-Stark,” Peter nodded, a smile spreading across his face.

“I have to tell everyone,” Tony stood up, ruffling a hand through his own hair. He looked shocked that Peter had agreed to it. “I’m going to have a son! I have to tell Pepper, May, the lawyers. Maybe I should get Rhodey over here, we can have a party. And Happy, Happy needs to know—“ 

Peter let out a small laugh. “I think they can wait, they're definitely busy. Pepper’s got that board meeting, remember? The one we both said we couldn’t go to because we had to, and I quote, 'Quarantine in the lab due to exposure to corporate bullshit'?” 

“God, I love you so much,” Tony grinned again. Peter’s heart was bursting with joy, the complete opposite to how miserable he’d been earlier in the day. 

Tony paused, turned to Peter. 

“Peter, something you said earlier…” Tony hesitated, thinking. “I just— I need to say. If we do have a kid, Pepper and I. It won’t— you’ll still be the heir to the company, and you’ll still be part of our family. You need to know that.”

“Oh,” Peter breathed, because that— that was. That was something, too. 

Tony hadn’t finished. “It’s not a family if I don’t have you being the best ever older brother to your new sibling.” That declaration was the last straw for Peter. 

“I’m—brother—“ Peter lost it, bursting into tears that he’d been able to hold back for the entire conversation. 

“Oh—oh, kid,” Tony said, rushing forward to catch Peter in another hug. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, kiddo.” 

Peter sobbed, not being able to process it. Because he was part of the family and the best ever older brother and Peter Parker-Stark and shit, kid, I love you so much and I have to tell everyone and you’ll still be heir to the company and it was all just so much and brother, brother, brother, he’d be the brother to Tony’s unborn child. 

“Il mio bambino,” Tony mumbled into Peter’s hair, low and soft, “You don’t have to cry, bud.” 

“You called me—” Peter’s voice hitched, sobbing into the crook of Tony’s neck. “Brother.” 

“Yeah, kid,” Tony whispered back. “I did.” 

And there they sat, consoling one another from the emotions, not letting each other go, and Peter finally relaxed as he accepted the fact that no, he wasn’t going to lose his title of heir, and he was always going to be part of Tony’s family. 

One week later, a whole lot more conserved and put together, Peter Parker signed papers as Peter Parker for the very last time, signing the pages of the forty-three paged long adoption document which made him both Tony Stark’s legally recognised son and also Peter Parker-Stark — with the hyphen.