Il cimento dell’armonia e dell’inventione, Op. 8, No. 1–4

Peter’s presence has become a natural fixture in Tony’s life by now, some months after May’s grant of amnesty. Tony’s grown accustomed to the kid’s rambling communication style, learned the names of the regulars in Peter’s anecdotes, and laughed at some horrid science puns and made a few of his own.

Be that as it may, it’s still a new thing, their thing. At times as awkward and fumbling as the legs of a newborn colt. And with a start like theirs—that is, a start Tony royally fucked up—he can’t help but feel the weight of words both insufficient and unspoken whenever he considers his time with Peter.

Four conversations, after homecoming. Asking for a friend, but how does one navigate becoming way too invested in the wellbeing of one’s teenage superhero mentee? (Or: If Marvel won’t give me post-SM:HC Irondad with healthy communication, I’ll do it myself.)1. “I’m sorry, kid. You deserved more from me.”2. “Did you only do this because you messed up at first?”3. …4. …