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This was another request, this one from @GrangerDanger, and it's set between Civil War and Homecoming (in my head, at least). Thanks for reading!

***

    The last bell finally sounded, and Peter sprang from his desk. It had been a particularly long and boring day, and he was excited to finally get out and…well, let’s just say engage in some after-school activities. 

    It had been a few months since Peter Parker had been become more than just Peter Parker and just two weeks since he’d returned from a last-minute, wildly exciting trip to Berlin at the request of Tony Stark. 

    Tony Stark. Peter unconsciously shook his head at the most ridiculous of the ridiculous things that had happened to him in the past year. Tony Stark had showed up at Aunt May’s apartment, spewing some bull about a grant. As soon as he’d gotten Peter alone (which, Peter thought distractedly, was even weirder – who else but Tony Stark could just show up and ask to see a teenager boy alone without so much as eliciting a raised eyebrow?), Tony had explained, in characteristically sardonic fashion, that Captain America was trying to help a mass murderer escape, and Tony needed Peter (who he knew was Spider-Man, because Tony Stark knows literally everything) to help catch Cap and the Winter Soldier. 

    The battle had been outrageous, and Peter definitely felt like he’d contributed (after all, it had been his idea to use rope to trip up that guy who’d become a giant for a few minutes), but Cap and his friend got away, so Peter hadn’t technically done what he’d been asked, and he felt terrible for that. All he wanted was a chance to prove to Mr. Stark that he could be better.

    Every day since the airport fight, Peter had obsessively checked his phone, hoping for another summons, another mission from Mr. Stark. He’d spent his afternoons and evenings slinging around the city, helping people – mostly in little ways, no real big crime stoppage – quietly yearning for some actual excitement, something that would allow him to show Mr. Stark that he wasn’t just a kid. 

    That he deserved to be an Avenger. 

    “Earth to Parker!” 

    Peter looked up. He was at his locker, putting away his last textbooks, and Ned was next to him, apparently in the middle of some story that Peter hadn’t been paying attention to at all. 

    “Sorry, man. What were you saying?” 

    Ned beamed, his good nature entirely unperturbed at Peter’s distraction. “I was asking if you were coming to Academic Decathlon practice today. You already skipped two this year, and Mr. Harrington isn’t too happy.” 

    “Oh, yeah,” Peter cringed. He liked Academic Decathlon (and he definitely liked one particular teammate…), but he had totally forgotten about practice after school. He’d been so much more focused on…

    Peter’s eyes lit up as he pulled out his phone, not having given Ned an answer. There was a short, exhilarating message on the screen.

    Tony wants a meeting. I’ll be waiting outside after school – HH

    “Sorry, Ned!” Peter had to keep himself from sounding too excited. “I have the Stark Internship, and I can’t keep Mr. Stark waiting!” 

    Peter was already dashing down the hallway, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, as Ned called out behind him. 

    “I’ll just cover for you, then! Remember me when you’re rich!” 

    Peter managed a half-wave behind him before bursting through the school doors. Sure enough, there was a conspicuous black sedan parked a few spaces back. Standing next to it was Mr. Stark’s perpetually annoyed-looking head of security, Happy Hogan. 

    “Mr. Hogan,” Peter nodded at the man, trying to come off as mature. 

    Happy opened the back door, not quite scowling, and Peter slid in. He told himself that Happy didn’t mean to shut the door on his backpack strap – he was just in a rush. 

    “So what does Mr. Stark need me to do?” Peter asked as soon as Happy got into the driver’s seat. “Does he have a mission for me? Are aliens gonna attack again?” 

    Happy was wearing dark sunglasses, but Peter didn’t need to see his eyes to know they were currently rolling. 

    “Tony just told me he wanted me to pick you up,” the man sighed. 

    Peter opened his mouth to ask more, but Happy was already rolling up the partition, clearly done with conversation. Only a little chastened – Peter knew that Happy didn’t like these chauffeuring trips – Peter sat back. He knew it would take at least 30 minutes to get to Stark Tower, and it looked like he was going to have to entertain himself. 

    As the adrenaline of the school day and learning that Mr. Stark actually wanted to see him(!) faded, Peter had an uncomfortable realization: he really had to pee. 

    He paused and wrinkled his forehead. He’d never really thought much about it, but yeah, he always went to the bathroom after school. Even after he got his powers, he’d go before changing into his improvised costume. Over the past two weeks, he’d just stopped at the school restrooms on his way out before ducking into some alley to change into the new suit Mr. Stark had made for him. 

    Today, though, he’d run out without even thinking about it; he’d been so excited, and he hadn’t wanted to keep Happy waiting. 

    Peter thought fast. He had to go pretty bad, but he was sure he could make it to Stark Tower, and Mr. Stark was always running behind or doing something important, anyway, so he was sure he’d have plenty of time to find a bathroom before Mr. Stark was actually ready to see him. 

    Peter pulled out his phone and succeeded in partially distracting himself for the remainder of the drive. He never fully lost awareness of his overly full bladder, but he was able to flip through Snapchat with only a few intermittent squirms. 

    By the time Happy pulled into the Stark Tower parking level, though, Peter had to press his thighs together before getting out of the car. He was grateful to finally be in proverbial sight of a bathroom. 

    Without a word, Happy led him to the private elevator. Peter thought better of asking where they were going, and besides, standing slightly behind Happy let Peter shift side to side without being seen. 

    As the elevator doors closed, Happy’s phone dinged. 

    “Tony wants you in the lab,” Happy said tersely, pushing the button for the appropriate floor. 

    “Right now?” Peter asked before he could stop himself, immediately cringing at how childish he sounded. 

    Happy glanced mirthlessly over his shoulder. He didn’t bother to answer the stupid question. 

    Peter inhaled deeply and stood up straight. He didn’t even know what Mr. Stark wanted yet – maybe it would be a two-minute meeting, and then Peter would be sent off to work on his own. Or just back into the car for Happy to drive home. 

    In seconds, the elevator reached Mr. Stark’s lab, and the doors slid open. Happy held his arm across the threshold, and pointed vaguely to the left. Taking the hint, Peter walked around him and headed in the indicated direction. He heard the elevator doors slide shut behind him; clearly, Happy wasn’t staying.

    Peter couldn’t help but gaze around the lab. Of course he knew that Tony Stark would have nothing but the best tools and tech – higher than top-of-the-line – but it was still so cool to see. Peter knew tech better than almost anyone at his school, but even he couldn’t think fast enough to come up with names for all of the gadgets he was seeing. 

    The room was gigantic, but Peter heard the sounds of tinkering a few yards in front of him. Focusing, he saw Mr. Stark staring at a huge, holographic screen, making rapid adjustments as some of his machines carried out his orders next to him. 

    Peter squeezed his legs together again, determined not to squirm, before clearing his throat. “Uh…Mr. Stark?” 

    Tony looked behind him, hands still flying in front of the screen. “Hey, Pete. Come and stand over here. I’m updating your suit, and I need to get your biorhythms right.” 

    Wide-eyed, Peter walked over to Mr. Stark and stood inside a circle in the middle of some machines, trying to hold his bladder without making any obvious external movements. 

    Tony glanced up, then did a double-take. “No, you’ll need to get out of your clothes to try on the suit,” he ordered. “You are wearing underwear, right?” 

    Blushing, Peter nodded. Tony had developed material that basically shrink-wrapped around him at the push of a button, so he didn’t have to spend time shimmying into spandex. It looked like this new version of the suit had the same capability, so Peter quickly stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, stuffing his clothes into his backpack and tossing it to the side. Tony held out the prototype, and Peter stepped into it, grateful to find that putting on the suit didn’t require any new knowledge, so he was able to do it right in one go. 

    He pressed the button, and the suit snapped into place around him. Peter shuddered briefly; the sensation shocked his bladder, and he nearly leaked. Thankfully, Mr. Stark wasn’t looking, so he was able to cross his legs briefly, bringing himself back under control. He tried to stand up straight, still hoping that this would be over quickly. 

    Almost as soon as the suit was on, Peter felt a poke on his arm. He clenched his pelvic muscles again as he looked over to see one of Mr. Stark’s robots taking some kind of reading from the suit. 

    Peter felt himself starting to tremble. “M-Mr. Stark?” he asked, hoping Mr. Stark wouldn’t call out the stutter. “What is this for?” 

    “Suit updates,” Tony replied, not taking his eyes off the screens, which now held several different angles and readouts of the Spider-suit. “The one you have now, I just whipped up in a few hours to get you ready for Germany. Now, I wanna make sure you have proper – can you stop moving?” 

    Tony interrupted himself, enunciating the last two words. Peter felt his face get hot; he hadn’t even realized how much he’d been shifting. 

    “Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling more than a little bit of despair. What Mr. Stark was describing didn’t exactly sound like a quick fix, but maybe…

    “So…what do you need from me?” Peter asked, grasping at a last shred of hope. 

    “FRIDAY needs to create a digital replica of your physiology, so the suit can read your body and respond appropriately to your needs,” Tony explained. “Today, we’re getting a baseline – just standard heart rate, blood pressure, cortisol, EEG stuff, and then later, once I finish some of the programming, I’ll send you around the neighborhood for a spin so the algorithm can build in awareness of what your body does when you’re spider-ing.” 

    Peter felt himself sweating, even though the material of the suit had super-advanced cooling material. Really, what Mr. Stark was describing sounded awesome, but he was a hairbreadth away from losing control, and the thought of wetting himself in front of Mr. Stark was overwhelming his brain and his body…

    “The program’s pretty intuitive,” Tony was saying, still fiddling with multiple images on the holographic screen, “but it has to get a bunch of data from you to make sure the responses are accurate, so just sit tight, and…”

    Tony actually turned around this time, exasperated. Peter forced himself to stand still, and felt a warm spurt soak into his boxers for his efforts. 

    “Did you not hear me say the word ‘baseline’?” Tony quirked an eyebrow, and Peter quailed under his idol’s stare. “Just stand there for about ten minutes, so FRIDAY can get all the readings she needs.” 

    Tony turned back to his screens, and Peter felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. There was no way he’d make it ten minutes, plus out of the suit, plus to wherever there was a bathroom in this monstrosity of a building.

    “I know you’ve got more energy than us old people, kid,” Tony went on, talking to himself as much as Peter, “but surely you have the skills to just chill out for a few…minutes…” 

    Tony trailed off as he actually looked at the biological readings projected on the screen. The kid’s heart rate was well into triple digits, and his cortisol was spiking. 

    Peter, for his part, was crumbling. He wanted to hang on, he had to hang on, but he was leaking almost continuously, and he was in pain, and he couldn’t focus on anything other than desperately, hopelessly trying to hold back the flood without actually grabbing himself.

    “Hey, kid?” Tony gazed intently at the screen, trying to make sense of Peter’s sky-high stress levels. “Is there anything-“

    Tony didn’t need to finish his question, because he turned toward Peter and saw – and heard – the explanation for the kid’s anxiety. 

    Half of Peter’s brain was screaming at him to run, to get out of Mr. Stark’s line of sight, but he was completely petrified, unable to move an inch. His bladder had just started to empty, like a water balloon had popped between his thighs. Heat gushed down his legs, splashing – oh god, it was actually splashing – onto the concrete floor.

    Tony opened his mouth to say something – his instinctive reaction to any given situation was to say something – but shut it again in an instant. Neurons firing overtime, he decided his only recourse was to avert his eyes. 

    Peter felt like all the air had been sucked from the room. His chest hurt, and sounds were muffled (in space, no one can hear you scream), and he knew he was still pissing all over Mr. Stark’s floor, but he couldn’t feel anything other than blinding humiliation. 

    His eyes filled with tears that he frantically blinked away, even though his face was obscured by the mask. His brain felt like a skipping record, or a car engine that wouldn’t turn over; he knew he had to move, had to apologize, had to do something, but he couldn’t actually think any coherent thoughts. 

    After far too long, Tony heard the overly loud pattering sound fade away. He stood in silence for a few breaths, then spoke, not quite looking at the kid. 

    “OK, just…just take the elevator up two floors, and there’ll be a bathroom down the hall to your right,” Tony instructed, trying to make it sound as if a teenage superhero peeing himself was nothing more than a minor glitch in his plans. 

    Peter pressed his lips together to keep them from shaking, but pressed the button to release the suit. The rush of air made him shiver, rapidly cooling the drenched fabric of his boxers. Despite the highly advanced fabric of the suit, he still felt how soaked the material was all down the legs. 

    “Just…leave the suit here, DUM-E or someone will take care of it,” Tony added, just as Peter was steeling himself to pull off the mask. 

    With that final direction, Peter drew in a deep breath, grasped at the back of the mask, and slid out of the suit, catching it briefly on his foot before he was able to step out of it entirely. He let it crumple in a pathetic pile on the floor, just beyond the reach of his infantile puddle. 

    Peter stood for a second, unsure if Mr. Stark was going to say anything else, but then reached down for his backpack and all but sprinted back toward the elevator, his vision blurry with tears. 

    In the elevator, Peter didn’t even have time to catch his breath. He was done; there was no way Mr. Stark would ever let him join the Avengers now. How could he have been so stupid?

    The elevator door slid open, and Peter turned right, looking for the promised bathroom. He was just going to change, throw on his jeans, and then get out of here, maybe even – 

    “Peter?” 

    Peter froze. No, he couldn’t take anything else right now, he couldn’t – 

    “Peter, is something wrong?” Pepper Potts, Mr. Stark’s unbelievably glamourous and savvy CEO and girlfriend, was walking up behind him, and there was really no marginally-decent explanation for him standing in his underwear on one of Mr. Stark’s private floors of the tower. 

    “Peter? Honey?” The boy was frozen, so Pepper approached cautiously, not wanting to scare him. She could hear his shaky breath, and, as he was, in fact, in his underwear, she was already forming a hypothesis of what had happened. 

    Sure enough, when she approached him, she saw the dark stain across the front of his boxers and the redness around the rims of his eyes. She felt terrible for the teen, but at the same time, she was intensely irritated with Tony. 

    “It’s OK, honey,” she assured the still-quivering boy in front of her. “The bathroom’s that third door there. You can get cleaned up.” 

    Peter nodded, messily wiping his nose on the back of his hand, but not moving toward the indicated room. 

    “Were you with Tony?” Pepper asked gently.

    “It wasn’t his fault,” Peter insisted quickly. “I just…I didn’t…it wasn’t Mr. Stark’s fault.” 

    Pepper knew better than to either believe Peter or to push him any further, so she just smiled softly and pointed down the hall. “There’s a chute in the bathroom. Put your wet things in there, and FRIDAY will wash and dry them for you.” 

    “No, I-“ 

    Pepper waved a hand, cutting off Peter’s protest. “It’ll take ten minutes. She’ll be done before you’re out of the shower.” 

    Peter hung his head. All he wanted to do was get the hell out of Stark Tower, but he couldn’t argue with Miss Potts. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, then slunk off down the hallway. 

    Pepper watched the boy close the bathroom door behind him, then turned on her stiletto-ed heel and stalked into the elevator. In seconds, she stormed into the lab. 

    “Tony!” 

    Tony winced at the sound of his girlfriend’s voice. Correctly assuming that she’d run into the kid upstairs, he didn’t even bother with a quip; he just turned away from his screen to face the wrathful Pepper. 

    “What were you thinking?” she demanded. 

    Tony sighed. “He didn’t say anything! How was I supposed to know?” 

    “Did you even ask?” Pepper glared pointedly. “Or did you just jump straight into giving orders, not even bothering to say hello or offer the kid a snack or something?” 

    Tony’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t have to answer; Pepper was right, and he knew exactly what she was implying – who she was implying. He looked up at the woman he loved, the woman who was so much better at virtually everything involving people than he was.

    “What do I do?” 

    Upstairs, Peter was taking deep breaths, inhaling the hot steam from the shower. He’d briefly considered ignoring Miss Potts’ orders and not putting his soaked underwear in the sci-fi-ish laundry chute, but then he figured that there was bound to be some sort of tracker, so she’d know and yell at him, so he reluctantly did it anyway. 

    He wasn’t really one to take long showers, but the hot water felt good helped erased the horrible feeling of wet fabric sticking to his legs, and what else was he going to do until his boxers were clean, anyway? 

    He hadn’t set a timer or anything, but just as he turned off the water and was reaching for a towel, he heard a ding. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he looked out to see a green light on the laundry chute. He opened it and found his clean, dry boxers neatly folded on a tray. He took a moment to marvel at the technology before his train of thought naturally led him back to the crushing shame of having an accident in front of Mr. Stark. 

    Peter sighed shakily as he pulled on his clothes. He tried to think positively; he could still help the city (would Mr. Stark even let him keep the old suit?), he had technically gotten to meet the Avengers (oh god, would Mr. Stark tell the Avengers that he’d peed his pants?), and…

    Lost in thought, Peter pulled open the bathroom door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He had just enough time to start wondering if he even knew his way out of the building when he heard probably the last sound on earth he wanted to hear right now. 

    “Hey, Pete.” 

    Peter stopped and looked up, trying not to raise his head dramatically slowly. Mr. Stark was standing at the end of the hallway, hands in his pockets. 

    Peter opened his mouth, but just like Pepper before, Tony cut him off before he could make a sound. 

    “Don’t apologize, kid. Don’t you dare apologize,” Tony ordered, though he didn’t sound mad at all. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

    “But I-“ 

    Tony shook his head, refusing to let Peter talk. “Pete, I’m the grown-up here. And I know that. I didn’t think about anything other than what I wanted to get done today, which means I didn’t think about you at all, and that was really crappy of me.” 

    Peter bit the inside of his lip. Mr. Stark sounded almost sad, and he didn’t want him to be sad, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do if Mr. Stark didn’t want him to apologize. 

    “I know better than that, kid,” Tony sighed. “I know better than that because that’s how I was raised. My old man never asked if I needed anything, never cared about what I wanted. He was all about getting the work done. And I told myself I’d be better than that.”

    Tony gazed at Peter and shrugged, unable to fully verbalize how awful he felt for what he’d inadvertently done to the kid. “You don’t apologize, Pete,” he reiterated. “I’m in the wrong, here, and I promise, I won’t let it happen again.” 

    Peter tried to smile. He was pretty sure Mr. Stark was just being nice, that Miss Potts had yelled at him or something. Then again, Mr. Stark did look uncharacteristically vulnerable when talking about his dad…

    Tony was silent for a second, but it didn’t seem like the teen was ready – or able – to speak just yet. That was OK. 

    “Go back down to the parking deck,” Tony instructed by way of ending the obscenely awkward encounter. “Happy’ll take you back to Aunt May’s, and I’ll text you when the new suit is ready, K?” 

    “Okay,” Peter managed to squeak out. 

    Tony nodded and turned away, figuring the kid wouldn’t move unless he felt like he was officially dismissed. Behind him, he heard Peter scramble into the elevator. 

    Tony frowned to himself. Pepper had been right, as she always was – it was totally his fault that the kid didn’t even feel comfortable enough to ask the use the bathroom. He wasn’t sure if his little speech had done the trick, but he’d definitely try to be more attentive in the future. 

    And in the meantime, he’d be sure to add a dryer and a heater into Peter’s new suit.
 

Edited by Sapphire3619 (see edit history)
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On 3/3/2019 at 2:42 AM, Melificentfan said:

That was fantastic 

Thank you!

On 3/3/2019 at 5:12 AM, bazinga said:

amazing!! i love peter so much 😞 this was so cute and totally realistic

Thank you so much! I'm not *super* big on writing fanfiction, but Peter obviously falls right in my preferred demographic for stories!

On 3/3/2019 at 8:19 AM, GrangerDanger said:

This is amazing, love how it turned out. I can really see this happening.

I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! Yeah, I was actually kind of surprised with how natural this felt to write. All credit to the MCU and the actors for creating such vibrant characters!

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Awww, I couldn't believe that you actually wrote a MCU fic with two of my favourite characters! I was so happy when I saw your story, and I really liked how you wrote it. It was brilliant, and at the same time I was a bit heartbroken because of poor Peter.

If you decide to write more in this universe, I'll be here to read it! 🙂

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On 3/9/2019 at 3:38 AM, Pilly said:

Awww, I couldn't believe that you actually wrote a MCU fic with two of my favourite characters! I was so happy when I saw your story, and I really liked how you wrote it. It was brilliant, and at the same time I was a bit heartbroken because of poor Peter.

If you decide to write more in this universe, I'll be here to read it! 🙂

Thank you so much! It wasn't my idea, of course; I'm *so* much more hesitant to write fanfiction than I am original characters. I'm so glad you liked it!!

On 3/9/2019 at 2:21 PM, BENAir01 said:

Agghhhhhh I loved this!!!!! More please!!!

I'm so glad! I don't have any more ideas for this particular setup, but I'm open to suggestions!

On 3/9/2019 at 3:44 PM, KarenGranger said:

 

I defiantly agree with all of you, more would be amazing! I think you should really consider doing more fanfiction because you're really good at it!

Thank you so much - that's so kind! 

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