Chapter Text
“Okay…” Peter’s gaze drops nervously to the little ziplock bag of crushed green leaves on the kitchen table, then back up to his very unamused mentor. He holds up a placating hand. “I admit this looks bad for me, but just hear me out, okay?”
Tony sighs, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. “Kid, we’ve talked about this. And I know May’s talked with you about it too.”
“I know, I know, but recent studies have actually shown that–”
“No.” Tony holds up a finger, cutting him off with a stern look. “Don’t you start that again. You know this is not good for your health.”
Peter huffs out a laugh. “Well neither is drinking twelve cups of coffee a day, but that’s never stopped you.”
“Try two.”
“Two?”
“Yes, two,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Pepper made it a rule last Christmas.”
Peter stares at him for a moment. There’s a beat. Then it clicks.
“You got one of those fifty-two ounce Bubba Keg mugs for Christmas, didn’t you?”
Tony’s expression sours, causing Peter to grin. “Okay, this is not about me, kid,” he says over Peter’s snort of laughter. He holds up the little bag of herbs and shakes it for emphasis. “This is about you jeopardizing your own health in exchange for a bit of fun. What kind of message is this sending to Morgan?”
Peter rolls his eyes and grumbles, “You’re acting like I brought weed here or something...”
“I’d prefer it if you brought weed!” Tony retorts, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Weed wouldn’t make you break out in hives!”
Just then, a ball of fluff comes zooming into the room. In three quick leaps, Waffles pounces first onto the kitchen counter, then the refrigerator, then directly into Pepper’s crockpot, which is sitting on top of the fridge.
“Waffles!” Tony snaps, causing the kitty to jump back down to the counter and then dart across the kitchen, springing up onto Peter’s lap and causing the poor boy’s heart to swell with joy while his irritated eyes instantly begin to water.
“What a good boy, Waffles!” Peter coos at the cat, who immediately leaps onto his shoulder, then his head. With a surprised yelp, Peter leans forward and Waffles bounds down off his back and back into the living room in a flurry of fur.
Peter sneezes three times in quick succession, then sniffs, tears pricking at his burning eyes.
Tony heaves out yet another sigh. “Okay I’m just going to say it one last time,” he says evenly. “Stop. Drugging. My cat.”
Peter giggles. “I thought he was Morgan’s cat,” he points out, then coughs twice to clear his itchy throat. “And it’s just catnip.”
“Exactly!” Tony gestures at the zooming ball of fur in the adjoining room. Waffles leaps onto the kitty castle to bat wildly at a dangling stuffed mouse. “He clearly doesn’t need any more energy, and he’s already obsessed with you as it is. The rule was, when you visit, you leave the damn cat alone.”
Peter’s lower lip sticks out in a pout as he scratches around his shirt collar where the skin is rapidly reddening. “You’re no fun. Unlike high-Waffles.”
As if on cue, the cat races back into the kitchen, pouncing onto the table this time. He promptly lays down and sprawls out on his back, revealing his ridiculously fluffy belly.
An utterly inhuman noise somewhere between a high-pitched whine and a choked sob escapes Peter’s lips at the sight. “Oh my god, I just wanna shove my face into it!”
“That will definitely not go over well.”
“But Mr. Stark…” Peter moans, rubbing his eyes. “He’s so fluffy.”
“He’ll claw your eyes out kid.”
“Worth it."
“PETER NO—”