a homeless peter fanfic AO3 link
summary: After two years of living in the streets, Peter Parker Sympathizes with thieves.Spiderman still stops them.(And yet, it’s the sight of his unmasked self , the scrawny homeless kid in an oversized jacket, that sends gang members running.)
Go out Bruce, they said. It will be fun, they said. Nothing bad’s gonna happen, they said.Well, they got one thing right. Because this? This isn’t bad, this is a disaster.(It’s a good kind of disaster though)
A/N so I got bored and decided to copy my story here. enjoy
Love that so much!
And tony would see how careful Peter’s trying to be, and he’d just gently tell him he has cleaners, it doesn’t matter at all.
YES. I LOVE THAT.
When I write this, that’s definitely going in there!
Peter sat still in the limo, looking down at his lap, trying not to touch anything. The shop owner was right, he’s filthy.
He hadn’t cleaned himself in weeks, aside from each night he would wash another part of his body in the sink of a public bathroom.
Tony was sat opposite him, trying to seem non threatening and as laid back as possible.
“Do you have family?” He asked quietly, trying to fill the silence.
“Uh… I - I did. My parents died when I was younger, I lived with my aunt and uncle for awhile before my uncle was shot. And um… a couple months ago, my aunt got into a car accident and… yeah.”
Tony looked at the boy sympathetically. Four dead family members before he was even… that reminded him.
“How old are you, kid?”
“Fifteen,” Peter answered shyly.
“Jesus… you’re all alone out there. I can’t believe that,” Tony murmured.
He looked up at Peter when he felt Happy pulling into the garage.
“You can sleep here tonight, I can’t let you curl in in some random alley. It’s not right.”
Peter’s eyes widened, he opened his mouth to speak before closing it again, he repeated that a few times over before settling on a weak nod of his head.
“Thank you… really, I don’t… I don’t know how to repay you.”
Tony opened his door, leading him to the elevator and pressing the penthouse button.
“You don’t need to thank me. Seriously kid, I just want you safe and not out on the streets.” When the elevator opened, Peter audibly gasped, staring at the spotless and extravagant room before him.
“I - I can’t. I’m dirty, I don’t wanna -“
“Kid, it’s fine. I have cleaners, and you need a shower and something to eat.” Tony softly pushed Peter in the direction of a massive bathroom. “There’s a shower and a bath tub, help yourself to anything in there, I have way too much soap and stuff, and please don’t rush, take your time. Wash your hair, bubble bath, whatever the hell you feel like.”
Peter looked up at him, Tony could see his eyes watering. He tended, thinking he had done something wrong.
“Thank you,” Peter managed, grabbing Tonys hand suddenly and squeezing it tightly. “You… you don’t have any idea how much this means.”
Tony smiled, rubbing a hand through unwashed curls and squeezing Peter’s hand right back.
“You have no idea what I’d do to stop a kid like you from having to live on the streets,” he admitted quietly. Peter blushed from under a layer of grime, he turned and wiped his eyes, wandering quietly into the bathroom and closing the door.
Yes yes yes! 100% I love that, and Tony’s really kind about it too, he doesn’t try to tell Peter he has to get in the car, but he tells him if it makes him feel more comfortable, he can sit in the front so Peter has the back to himself.
But Peter would trust him after some consideration, and slowly sit at the back with Tony.
Tony had finished a press event and was stretched out in the back of his limo. He was tried, sober as ever, and his feet hurt from being on his feet all evening.
Sometimes on nights like this, when he was overtired and sore, all he wanted was to press his face against the window and watch the areas of New York roll past until he was at the Tower again.
That’s what he was doing tonight. Staring out the window and looking at the late night bars, drug stores and sandwhich shops which were being closed for the evening.
Happy pulled to a stop and the next red light, and Tony absentmindedly stared at a woman counting out her change at the checkout through a shop window, bored out of his mind.
Vaguely, he could hear muffled voices floating in through the window, but a louder and more aggressive sounding tone caught his attention. He rolled the window down a tiny crack, letting the sound flood into the backseat as he cranes his head forward slightly, trying to get a look at who was yelling and what exactly they were saying.
“… it’s disgusting - you’re unhygienic, you need to stop coming around here every few nights. That’s right, don’t think I haven’t noticed you in the security footage.” Tony perked up, listening more intently. Was it a smelly drunk trying to misle food from the small sandwich shop the voices were floating from.
“You should get cleaned up, maybe find yourself a job, for starters. You want food, you buy it, don’t go rummaging through the dumpster after we throw a load out. You’ll catch something, and it’s bad for my business.”
Tony squinted, tilting his head in confusion. Digging through the trash? Needing a job? It sounds like the stereotypical drunk homeless man trying to pull food from the garbage.
Personally, Tony thought it was always a shitty thing to do, tell a homeless person they aren’t allowed to eat the day old food from a store, which was being thrown into the garbage anyway. It was why old tech from Stark Industries was always sent somewhere where it was repurposed or donated to people in need.
Why be a dick when you could be a decent human being?
At least, that was Tony’s motto.
“Get lost or I’ll call the police, if I find you rummaging through the trash and scaring off customers again, I’ll get you sent to an orphanage or something.”
Tony froze as the car began pulling forward as the light changed. Orphanage? That didn’t make sense… how could a homeless man be put in an orphanage?
As Happy pulled past where the voice was primarily floating from, Tony got a good look at a middle aged man in an apron, pointing down the street. He also saw a small figure, silhouetted by streetlights, the firm looked like it would come up to his collarbones, and Tony wasn’t the tallest adult in the first place.
He had no doubt now that this person was a child.
“Happy, pull over, now.” He said, already unclippig his seat belt.
As soon as the car slowed, he jumped out, walking briskly past the shop owner and not caring as he swept by rudely, brushing past him without any care.
“Kid, hey!” He called, breaking into a jog before slowing down when the small figure turned. The person was already halfway down an alley way, Tony could see a sheet of snow moistened cardboard and a single, dented can of uncooked lentils.
“I - I’m s - sorry Sir. I - I don’t… I don’t do that.”
Tony raised and eyebrow curiously but stepped closer, finally seeing the boy in the light for the first time.
He was young. As in, fourteen or fifteen at the most. He had massive brown eyes, watery and red-rimmed, and pink tinted cheeks and nose from the cold. Honey brown strands of hair stuck out from under a itchy yellow beanie, they curled up at the edges, the boy’s hands were extended in a ‘surrender’ motion.
“What do you mean?” Tony asked curiously.
“I - I mean I don’t… I’m sorry, I don’t… y’know, f - for money.” Peter looked down to where Tony’s hands where fisted in his jacket pocket.
Tony stiffened when he finally realised what the boy meant.
He wanted to punch something.
This child thought that Tony followed him into the alley to ask for… things… in exchange for money.
“No. No - hell no. I don’t want that, I don’t like that at all.” He clarified firmly. “I just… heard the shop owner back there, and… I have a lot more money than I can spend so, whatever you need, I can arrange something. Kids shouldn’t be out on the streets.”
The boy gaped at him disbelievingly. “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tony continued, watching the boy swallowing nervously.
“P - Peter. Peter Parker.”
“Okay Peter, take that horrible thing off,” he waved a hand at Peter’s ugly and unhelpful extra layer which did almost nothing against the winds. “And here, take my jacket. I’m not bothered by the cold anyways.”
“S - Sir… thank you, thank you so much. I - I can’t take that from you. It’s designer and you should keep it for yourself an -“
“It’s never going to be worn again. I want you to have it.” Tony assured.
He watched as Peter tentatively pulled off his least helpful layer of clothing, his beanie falling off in the process.
A mass of wild curls bounced out, the light hit them and they looked almost golden. Tony stared blankly as the boy gently put the jacket on, treating it with so much respect as if it were pure diamond.
“You know what,” Tony said quietly, “you deserve a hell of a lot more than that. You need to shower, and to wash your hair, and then sleep. And eat.” Tony tucked a tentative arm around Peter’s shoulders, softly guiding him to the car.