Chapter Text
It had been a few days since Peter's talk with Pepper, and even though he hadn't really talked about them or been to therapy since, he was starting to feel a little better.
Not always, of course. He had stuffed his notebook into the back of his bedside drawer, and every time he opened it, he'd shut his eyes and grab whatever he needed before slamming it shut.
Or sometimes, when Mr. Stark would smile at him so nicely, he'd twitch so hard that he'd have to excuse himself, running to the bathroom to calm himself down.
(Pepper found him, sometimes. Sometimes she didn't. But he had a feeling she always knew).
"You know what I think we need?"
Peter looked to his side from where he sat on the couch, where Mr. Stark was standing with his hands on his hips.
"What do we need?"
"We need a vacation."
Peter blinked. "What?"
"Yes. That's exactly what we'll do." Mr. Stark sat next to him on the couch, Peter subconsciously shifting himself forward and turning to face the man. The T.V blared on, in the background, and Mr. Stark leaned back, arms crossed behind his head. "But I don't know where we should go. Someplace super relaxing. You wanna go to Europe?"
"Um…" Peter shrugged. "I don't know. I've never been to Europe."
"Eh, forget Europe. Pepper's gonna wanna go shopping and stuff, I wanna do something more quiet." He tapped his finger on his chin, contemplating. "What about Malibu?"
"Malibu… California?"
"Yes!" Mr. Stark seemed a little excited at the thought, smiling to himself. "That's, like, that's where I grew up. I have a beach house there. Let's go there, and just relax on the beach for a few days."
Peter felt himself getting a little excited for a moment, before thoughts of beaches and their implications caught up to him. "N-no. I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Hm?" Mr. Stark turned to him, eyebrow raised, but no visible judgement on his face. "Not a fan of the water?"
"Not a fan of… beaches. Well no," Peter struggled to explain himself without getting too descriptive, "I like beaches, they're really pretty. But I don't know if, maybe I won't really— um…"
Mr. Stark waited a beat for him to continue. When he didn't, he crossed his arms and turned to face him properly, resting his head on the top of the couch.
"You know what my favourite part of my beach house is?"
"What?" Peter asked after a moment.
"It comes with a huge stretch of beach, and it's completely private. So really, I get to go whenever I want, and wear whatever I want, and there's nobody there to give me a second look. My favourite time to go is early in the morning, just before sunrise. The mosquitoes have all gone away, and the weather is crisp enough for me to swear a sweatshirt, but not cold enough to nip my nose. And then you can just sit, and watch the sunrise." Mr. Stark was still smiling at him, though it felt like he was far away. "Do you think that might be something you'd wanna do?"
Peter hesitated, processing everything Mr. Stark just said. He really didn't wanna be in public wearing a swimsuit, though it would be hard to wear a full-coverage outfit in Malibu summer. But if the beach was private, and they'd really be all alone…
"That sounds… really nice, I think."
Mr. Stark smiled at him then, so nicely. "Then I'd love for you to come."
It was a happy moment, Peter tried to tell himself, but all he could think about were those letters. The one where he wrote about how Mr. Stark had failed him. The man who stuck his neck out for him, who let him sleep in his house, who fed him, clothed him, was offering to take him to Malibu—
Peter shuddered, a full body twitch that had Mr. Stark blinking (because really, his twitches hardly ever surprised him or Pepper anymore), but not pulling away. Instead, he lifted his arm up onto the back of the couch, somewhat like an open invitation, as he turned to face the T.V.
"Are you watching Good Will Hunting?!"
Peter blinked. "Yeah, it just started. But I guess I wasn't really paying attention to it, can we start it over?"
"Absolutely not. F.R.I.D.A.Y, turn this off, and create a new protocol. Peter can't watch anything with a rating over PG without my or Pepper's saying so."
"Oh, sorry," Peter blushed, turning back to face the screen. "I didn't know, it was in the recommended so I just—"
"Don't worry, it's not your fault. And it is a great, great movie. But definitely not for babies."
"I'm not a—"
"Very funny. You're not even 12, this movie is rated R. Do the math. You've got at least six years left on that, if not more."
Peter scanned over the warnings on the T.V, from where F.R.I.D.A.Y had paused the movie. "Doesn't say that it's violent or anything."
"Kid, violence is not the only way a— okay, let me put it this way." He turned to face him a little more, pointing at the T.V with his left hand. "That movie," he began in an accusatory tone, "Is the only movie, on the planet, that has ever made me cry."
Peter's eyebrows shot up. "Really? It made youcry?"
"I know, I know. And to be fair, I don't really watch a lot of sad movies. But this one?" Mr. Stark shook his head. "I watched it on a plane, and I had to keep wiping my nose to pretend I had allergies. And then Rhodey made me take a benadryl, and I fell asleep. But I'm pretty sure he knew why I was crying and just wanted to mess with me."
Peter giggled, moving to sit a bit closer to the man. "So it's that sad?"
"Yeah, it's that sad. But if you wanna see an age-appropriate sad movie, I have just the one—"
"No!" Peter shook his head. "Um… I don't think I wanna watch something sad."
Mr. Stark tilted his head, before nodding. "Well it's a good thing I came in here, then."
He huffed out a laugh, and then looked forward at the T.V. "Can we watch something not-stressful? It doesn't have to be a movie. I feel like movies are always stressful."
"Hmm… Have you seen Kung-Fu Panda?"
Peter shook his head.
"Perfect."
Without either of them saying so, the image on the T.V. fluttered, before Kung-Fu Panda started playing on the screen.
"Oh, now you're helpful," Mr. Stark said to the ceiling. "But when Peter was two seconds away from me soaping his ears, you said nothing."
"Ms. Potts is home."
"Yeah, hush up now you little—"
"Tony!" Pepper's sharp voice cut through the room, both boys turning to see where she stood by the entrance. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything PG-13 that was about to come out of your mouth?"
Peter laughed out loud at that, and both adults looked at him with a smile, as Pepper walked up to the couch.
Mr. Stark turned to look up at her, a wide smile on his face. "Pepper, my dear, would you accompany your boys to Malibu?"
The smile didn't leave her face, though her eyebrow did quirk up. "Malibu? When did this happen?"
"Since I decided that we need a vacation."
Pepper twisted her mouth in fake contemplation, tapping her chin in a way that made Peter grin. "Hm… Can I go shopping in Malibu?"
Mr. Stark fake groaned, putting his hands on his face. "Always with the shopping! What did I tell you, Pete?"
Peter giggled, and Pepper smiled right back.
"Okay, okay, I'll come! When do we leave?"
Mr. Stark pumped his fist in the air, turning to Peter. "What do you say, Pete? When should we leave?"
"Uhh… soon?"
"Soon it is!"