Notes: Hey guys! So, I got a prompt on Tumblr a while ago about Peter being shifty and skipping meetings with Tony. I can't give out the full prompt, 'cause that'd ruin the whole plot, but I've been working on this for a little over a month, so I really like you like it! Enjoy! :)

(Also, please go give Brentinator some love. She's a sweetheart and literally wrote half of this story, and deserves way more appreciation.)

Rating: K+ (for minor injuries mentioned!).

Summary: Tony's a Worried Dad, and Peter's keeping a secret.

"What do you mean you can't come to the lab?" Tony asked into the speaker phone, as he tinkered with the kid's suit. Peter previously left it, after he marched into a fore and winded up with first and second degree burns. He was supposed to come get it this weekend, seeing as it was the third time they had to reschedule, but it looked like it had to be put aside. Again.

"This is the third weekend you're cancelling on me, kid," he continued. "There something I don't know about?"

"No!" Peter squealed, his voice raising an octave, like it usually did when he was lying or hiding something. Then, clearing his throat, he spoke again. "No," he repeated, this time a bit slower and calmer. "I just... I'm really busy, Mr. Stark, y'know? Ned and I have this big project, and we spent all night playing video games, and Michelle and I are supposed to do something for her birthday next week. It's just.. it's not really a good time."

Tony frowned. He hadn't met Michelle yet, but he knew for a fact that her birthday was in June. Not January.

The billionaire sighed, but didn't dare show his disappointment over the phone. He and May had been telling Peter to prioritize school and go out and be a kid for a while now. Who was he to stop him from finally having a normal life?

"Alright," he replied. "Should we reschedule for the 27th, then? Happy can pick you up right after school next week. You can bring Ted along, if you want?"

"Yes! I mean..." Peter cleared his throat again. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Stark. Ned'll love that, I'll tell him tomorrow!"

Tony grinned. "Okay, kid, see ya soon."

Tony wasn't going to "see Peter soon." In fact, he was going to see what he was up to. Peter skipping out on working on his suit for almost a full month was unnatural, and, sure, maybe he was just working on school, but Tony needed to be positive. He couldn't help it, he was a Dad like that.

"Hey, Tony?" Pepper said, as she walked into the room. "FEMA sent us some papers that we need to coordinate over for The Blip, and—what are you doing?"

Tony didn't even look up from where he was tapping into Peter's watch, so he could access the tracker and the kid's school schedule. "Hacking into Peter's personal belongings," he replied. "Why? Something wrong?"

"There is now. Why are you hacking into Peter's stuff without his permission?"

"Okay, first of all," Tony responded, as he pointed his finger at her, "his watch is made by Stark Industries, so I don't really think I need permission to go in and fix it, and second—" Tony sighed, and slumped in his chair. "I'm worried 'bout him, Pep."

Seeing as something went wrong, Pepper instantly softened and set down the stack of papers she was carrying. Then, slipping into the chair beside her husband, she gently grasped his hand, entangling his calloused fingers with her lavender-smelling ones, and leant her head just below his shoulder. "Why?" she asked, voice soft and calm. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," he spoke, slowly. And, for once in his life, the billionaire really didn't. Peter rarely cancelled on him, and when he did, that was usually because he was sick; still, though, those times, May usually called in instead. In other words, Peter cancelling on him himself was the equivalent to the world imploding.

(Right now, Tony felt like his was.)

"The kid cancelled on me," he finally told his wife. In response, Pepper let out a sigh of relief and Tony looked over at her, beyond confused upon seeing her shake her head and smile. "What?"

Pepper rubbed a hand over her face at her husband's overdramatic tendencies. She knew he'd been a bit overprotective of Peter (and, not only that, but Morgan) ever since The Blip, so she couldn't really blame him for being worried, but still; to her, this may have been a bit much.

"I think it's sweet that you're worried about him," Pepper explained, making sure to choose her words carefully, as she delicately traced a hand over her husband's back. "And I know you've been even more stressed than usual since Thanos happened, but don't you think that this is maybe just a bit much, honey? I mean, you are hacking into his watch."

"Technically," Tony interrupted, "Stark Industries made it, so..."

"It belong to you, I know." Pepper rolled her eyes at her husband's antics, before squeezing his hand lovingly. "But why don't you talk to May about it? Or, even better, Peter himself. If he's cancelling on you, then I'm sure there might be a reason for it."

"He said him and Ted have to work on a project," Tony admitted, as he ran a hand through his hair. "But, even if they do, he could've brought him with him, and they could've worked on it here. I mean, he knows I don't mind, right? And there's no way he's out on patrol past curfew, either, considering his suit's been hanging out with me for the past three weeks..."

"Maybe he's using his old one?" Pepper suggested. Instead of soothing Tony's worries, though, this simple statement seemed to only make them increase, as he glanced up at his wife, clearly freaked out by the thought. If Peter was actually patrolling past curfew and using his old suit, that meant he was in trouble. That meant he had no protection.

Seeing as this only distressed her husband further, Pepper laughed a little and immediately tried to remedy the situation. "Okay," she apologized, "that didn't help as much as I thought it would, and I'm sorry. But—" She took a deep breath. "—if you really want Peter to give you answers, Tony, then I think you should talk to him; and don't just ask him about it, but sit down and have a conversation with him. Okay?"

Tony nodded, and pulled Pepper close, before pecking her cheek with a quick kiss. "Okay," he stated, as he rested his head in the crook of her neck, and rubbed up and down her shoulder. "Now, what were those papers FEMA needed us to look over...?"

He got the call at exactly 8:02 am, in the early morning.

"May?" Tony asked confused, as he tapped tne 'speaker' button on his Stark-phone and set it aside, a few feet away from where he was working. Then, he had directed his attention back to the task at hand, and started pouring the pancake batter into the big blue bowl Pepper had bought (which was eco-friendly, considering she had been a bit into a "Go Green!" phase lately). He wasn't super groggy, seeing as he'd already been up for a good half an hour, but still; he didn't like to take calls unless it was past ten am. "Why are you calling me? It's eight in the morning, I thought you were at work."

"I am," May confirmed, the click-clacking of nails on a keyboard echoing in the background. "But Peter has a band concert today, and I'm leaving work early for it. He told me he told you about it a while ago, but..."

Tony shook his head, as he transferred the eco-friendly bowl of pancake batter over to the oven and poured it into the pan, with a bit of butter. It was 8:07 now, and if Morgan didn't wake up in the next ten minutes, he'd have to go get her, so she wouldn't be late. "I haven't heard anything about it," he replied. "Hell, I didn't even know Peter rejoined his band class."

This time, it was May's turn to be confused. "He's been doing it for a few months," she spoke slowly. "But he has been focusing on school a lot, so maybe he just forgot about it? I know he has a lot on his mind lately."

"Yeah." Tony hummed lightly, and turned down the heat on the stove. That was probably it...

"Anyway," May continued, "I'm just typing up an email to my supervisor, but if you're interested, I could send you the details once I'm done. The show starts at eleven."

Tony nodded, and flipped a half-cooked pancake over. "Yeah, that'd be great," he agreed. "Thanks, May."

When Tony gets to the auditorium, he's expecting it to be small. A single stage, some chairs here and there, and maybe two or three rows of bleachers for extra seating. But, instead, he couldn't be more wrong; because, yes, there is a single stage, but there's also over a hundred rows of chairs and a tiny, little, compact coat-check area in a nearby corner. Needless to say, Tony's impressed.

Plus, Peter's standing several feet away, talking to May, so that kind of worked out, too.

"You're going to do great," she was saying, as she put a hand on her nephew's shoulder. "Just this one last performance, and then it's semester break, baby; and I know Ben would be really proud of you."

Tony realizes too late what's going on.

'Oh. Oh, fuck,' he thinks to himself. He feels like a jerk. Peter's doing this for his uncle. 'That's why he didn't tell me,' he thinks. And it makes sense—Tony has no right to knowing anything about his uncle, and he certainly has no right to demand Peter tell him anything. All this time, he's been worrying, working himself up into a panic, because he was afraid and was scared of Peter getting into danger, doing something without him, because he's growing up, and that's what kids do, but still; Peter deserves privacy and he has a right to keep secrets from him (what kids don't?) and a right to not tell him stuff, and even though Pepper stopped him before he could hack into his stuff, he still feels like he violated him, and like he betrayed his trust. He feels like he's been shot in the heart (and Tony's been shot, though not in the heart before, so he sure as hell knows what that feels like).

"Well, well, well," he says instead, as he walks up to Peter and his aunt. "What do we have here? I didn't know you played an instrument, kid."

Seeing as they might want to talk alone, May excuses herself. Immediately, Peter's eyes widen and his mouth open and closes like a fish, and Tony's enjoying every minute of it. "Y-Yeah," he mutters, swallowing, as he finally finds his voice. "What are you doing here, Mr. Stark?"

Tony tucks his hands into his pockets, and rocks back and forth on his heels. "Well, you know," he responds, nonchalantly. "You're my favourite young adult, and May told me you had a band concert today, so I thought come and support you." Then, he stops and pauses in thought. "That is," he asks, "the class you're taking, right? Band?"

Peter's eyes are still wide, but a little bit less so, now. It still looks like he's looking for a way out of this conversation, though, as he glances around the man for someone who could (hopefully) save him. "Yeah," he answers, nodding feverishly. "I, um, I play guitar. I've been playing for four years now, Mr. Stark."

"Really?" Tony questions in surprise. "You know, Happy used to play guitar a while ago, too. Way back in the 90's, though, so, of course, he doesn't play now, but—"

"My uncle taught me," Peter suddenly stated. Tony sighed and looked down at him, eyes softening.

"Peter—"

"But I wasn't sure what you'd think, or if you'd think it was stupid, or that I had too much on my shoulders, so I didn't say anything. I didn't want to make you mad, I just—"

"I'm not mad."

From where he was staring at his feet, Peter glanced up at the man, surprised and a bit unsure of himself as well. "What? You're not mad?"

Tony shook his head, his tone sincere. "No," he spoke, genuinely, making sure to reiterate a point he had made many, many times in the past. "Peter, you're a kid, you're allowed to have fun; and whether that'd be playing guitar in the school band, or slacking off on homework, I don't care. Just as long as it's nothing illegal, of course." Tony paused before cracking a smile.

Peter nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"No problem, kid," Tony told him, before glancing over in the opposite direction and seeing the principal walk over to them. "Now, go break a leg."

Fin.

I'm open to requests, but please be specific. ;)

(Also, the part where "Tony has no right to demand Peter tell him anything" was inspired by a Brooklyn-99 fic on Archive of Our Own. It really stuck with me, and I think it's really important that people be reminded that they don't owe telling anything to anyone, so that's why that's there.)

(I also haven't written Irondad in a while, so sorry if it's OOC.)

Reviews are appreciated.