Aero went to school periodically, skipping out on most days and showing up at the most random times. It's a wonder he hasn't been expelled yet, but he's going to keep pushing his luck until he gets threatened. Like when he doesn't tell Pepper that he's going to school—he just goes, shoots her a text, and ignores his phone for the rest of the day, considering they're still in their weird fight and have been for over a month now.

No one storms the school looking for him, and his face doesn't appear on any missing posters, so Aero is pretty sure she's ignoring him, too. He's not sure how to feel about it.

Realistically, not talking to his mom through anything but texting should be the norm. She's a successful CEO and runs Stark Industries without any help. Even when he was younger, both his parents were busy. His dad was Iron Man, but also Tony Stark, so Aero wasn't exactly spending hours on end with him. And his mom had been Tony's assistant, and then the runner of the company, so he didn't see her much, either. It never felt weird—it was just the way life was.

But it's weird this time because of their fight.

Aero knows he has to figure out a way to apologize. It's been weeks now—all through winter break, past Christmas, etc. They were in January now. Granted, only the beginning of January, but still. Nearly two months of fighting. Aero isn't stupid—he knows that he's the asshole of this situation. He isn't going to pretend to be the hero. But he's stubborn. So, there's that.

Things are unpredictable. One minute Aero's mood is sour, the next it's sweet. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to spend time with his family, the next he would do anything to get away from them—and, fuck, that means Morgan, too. As much as he hated to admit it, sometimes he even got tired of Morgan. He didn't even thing that was possible, but here he was, tired. Of everyone. Morgan, his mom, Peter, who, oh, he still hadn't made any progress with.

Aero wasn't the only annoyed with Peter. He could Ned was, too, but that was mainly because Ned was tired of Peter and Aero, not just Peter. Which, fine, completely fair. Aero was being a bit of dick, too, and was totally stubborn by not reaching out to Peter himself and figuring out what the fuck was happening. At the same time, well, neither was Peter, and Peter was the one that had started this whole thing, so Aero felt that it was only appropriate that Peter be the finish it. Ned, on the other hand, had spent an hour explaining to Aero that he had to be the one to finish it because Peter was going to keep dragging this on, otherwise.

Aero hated when someone was right about something that Aero wanted to be right about.

"I don't understand why you don't explain this to Peter," Aero said as he opened his locker.

Ned sighed. "Because he walks away every time I bring you up," he explained. "He doesn't like talking about you."

Aero rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's so great, because I don't like talking about him, either."

"You literally spent an hour talking about his 'stupid hair' yesterday," Ned pointed out, frowning.

Aero paused. ". . . He's pretty. I can still talk about him without liking it." Ned sighed in frustration. Aero figured that his hair would be gray by the time they were out of high school due to the amount of stress he and Peter were putting on the poor guy. "Besides, that's not the point. He could just as easily fix this mess, the one he created, by the way. I'm perfectly fine with never talking to him again. I would rather talk about Tootsie than him." Aero wrinkled his nose. "Ew, never mind. Anything's better than Tootsie."

Ned tilted his head. "What's that?"

"A transphobic musical," Aero explained, closing his locker. "Very terrible. Anyway, like I was saying . . ." Aero trailed off, brow furrowing as his ears picked up on quiet laughter across from them. He glanced to his right and did a double take.

Miles Henway, the super senior from five years ago who, surprise, still hadn't graduated. He looked the same as the last time Aero had seen him, so he must've been Blipped. That, or he just didn't age. He was surrounded by new goons, not the ones Aero had seen last time Miles had made fun of him. Aero wondered what it was for this time—last time it was his sexuality. Did Miles still find that funny, or was Aero just being paranoid? He could't be—Miles was looking directly at him before whispering to his friends.

Aero scowled at him before turning back to Ned. "I'm going to prevent a murder today," he announced.

Ned frowned, glancing at Miles. "Uh, how?"

Aero grinned sourly. "Self-restraint," he said. "However, I think a little jeering is in order."

Ned shook his head. "No, no, don't do that, Aero, Aero—"

"I see Daddy's money got you inside again," Aero said, turning to face Miles. He leaned against his locker, holding his history textbook close to his chest. "How much was it this time? Certainly more than your . . . friends could afford," Aero taunted, looking the kids up and down.

Miles clenched his jaw. "This again? What, you can't think of new insults?"

"What, you can't pass a class?"

"You're a fag," Miles spat.

"Now look at who's unoriginal," Aero jeered. "Why don't you make fun of someone when your insults don't revolve around something they can't control? You know, like how I make fun of how you choose to be a dick who can't pass a simple math class." Aero turned toward Ned again, ready to make his badass exit, when Miles spoke up again, clearly not done.

"You think you're so great, don't you, Stark?" Miles sneered. Around them, people began quieting, realizing that there was tension in the air.

"What?" Aero asked sharply, turning to look at Miles again. "It's that obvious, is it?"

"You think that just because your dad died on a battlefield that you're hot shit, huh? That you get to just walk around like you own all of us?"

"Miles, will you shut up?" Ned defended. Miles scoffed, stepping closer to Aero, blocking the way out. Aero's blood boiled.

"No, I won't. Just because Tony Stark snapped his fingers doesn't mean he's a hero. In fact, he never was. He's done more harm than good. Your dad isn't a hero. Grow up and face the facts, freak. He decided to die rather than live to raise you. And I can't blame him. No one here likes you."

Aero felt blood rushing in his ears; he couldn't hear anything over the insistent ringing that had taken over his hearing, but even if he could hear, there would be nothing to notice. The hall had gone dead silent as students gathered around them, everyone eager for a fight. Aero took a deep breath, looking at everyone. His dad wouldn't want this. He'd want Aero to walk away. So he pushed past Miles to get out of the crowd, but Miles grabbed his arm, his grip vice-like around Aero's wrist as he yelled out a taunt that Aero couldn't hear over the sound of deafening silence.

Aero didn't think twice. He spun on his heel and ripped his arm out of Miles' grip. The book held in his right arm was suddenly held by both hands, and Aero swung. The crack of Miles' nose hitting the book echoed through the hall as Miles fell back, screaming as blood pulsed out of his nose and onto his clothes, the floor, his hands.

And Aero had never felt so alive.

Aero took a step toward him, raising the book. He felt someone grab him as a boy rushed over to help Miles stand. Aero struggled in the person's grip, but they were stronger, dragging Aero out of the crowd who was now rushing forward to get a look at Miles' nose. Aero could only think about how much trouble he was going to be in, because he was definitely being dragged away by a teacher and he was going to be expelled and his mom was going to be pissed and—

The person pushed him into the bathroom. Aero stumbled near the sink, and by the time he fixed himself, the person had already made sure every stall was empty. Aero turned around just in time to see Peter break the lock on the door, effectively locking them inside. Peter turned to face him and Aero wants nothing more than to break his stupid nose and scream, but he settles for a cutting glare that makes Peter hesitate at the door, like he was rethinking his choice to break the lock.

"Aero," Peter said, warning.

"Fuck you," Aero snapped, and it's the first time he can remember being so angry at Peter, the first time Aero doesn't want to see him.

"You would've killed him."

"You don't get to play the fucking hero," Aero told him. Peter went quiet. Aero places his book on one of the sinks, taking a deep breath. He doesn't even remember punching the wall, but suddenly his knuckles are on fire and there are speckles of blood on the white paint where his knuckles hit the wall and split open. Aero hesitated, stepping away, then went for another punch, just wanting to feel something.

Peter caught his fist in his hand, forcing Aero to lower his arm. Aero glared at him, shaking, and then he broke.

It's ugly. He fell to his knees, sobbing, and Peter fell with him, wrapping his arms around Aero as Aero buried his face into Peter's chest. Peter's hand rests on the top of his head and he tells Aero to breath, but for a moment Aero can't. It feels like his chest is getting tighter and he can't remember how to use his lungs. And then he shudders and takes in a deep breath before crying again. It's pathetic—Aero Stark on the floor of a school bathroom, wrapped up in the arms of someone he's supposed to be angry with. And Aero absolutely hates himself for it.

This isn't how it's supposed to be.

He's Aero Stark.

He's a Stark.

He needs to be strong.

He has to be. . . .

". . . you can see, Aero, can you do that?" Peter was asking, his voice soft. Aero balled his fists into the fabric of Peter's blue sweater—it had the Midtown logo on it, rough against Aero's hands, a different texture than the dark blue fabric that stood out against Peter's pale skin. He wanted to hit something. "Aero. What can you see?"

"Shut up," Aero snapped, keeping his face against Peter's chest. "Shut up with your stupid panic attack thing, it only works the first time." Peter went quiet, and Aero didn't even feel bad enough to apologize. He didn't even want to want to apologize. He was perfectly fine with acting like a asshole. It was just the way he was, and no breathing exercises was going to change that part about him. Maybe it came from his dad. Maybe it came from his mom. He didn't care.

Aero Stark was probably the richest child on the planet, and he still couldn't afford to care.

Peter sighed. "We should— we should get up. We don't know what's on the floor."

Aero tried not to laugh. He let Peter pull him to his feet, then took a step back, rubbing his knuckles as the pain caught up with him. He couldn't look Peter in the eyes.

Silence settled on the room. Outside the door, it was quiet—not even the sound of someone walking down the hall. He wondered how long it would be until someone came looking for them, but Aero couldn't bring himself to care about the consequences. His hand still stung from punching the wall, and he was still running on adrenaline from hitting Miles with that book, his stupid history textbook that has dried blood on the back cover and edges of the old pages. He eyed the book for a moment before wrinkling his nose.

He understood why people enjoyed hitting those who deserved it, but he never understood how they could stand the sight of the dried blood.

He looked at Peter, who wouldn't meet his eyes. Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Why do you hate me?"

Peter jumped, startled. "What?" he asked, his voice going up a pitch in surprise. "Why do you . . . I don't hate you, Aero. Why do you think that?"

Aero frowned. "Maybe because you ignored me at my dad's funeral." Peter sucked in a sharp breath. "I saw you there. I saw May. She told me you were there. I saw you get into your car without even looking at me, Peter. Frankly, I'm a little upset you didn't even text me for my birthday, even if you did get me a present, but the funeral thing hurts more than a stupid party. Or even a dumb text message." His voice is steady, even as his stomach twists itself into knots, telling Aero to shut up before he threw up. He ignored it. "I think you hate me because until today you couldn't even look at me. You can barely look at me right now."

Peter took a shaky breath. He held up his arms like he wanted to take Aero's hands into his own, but he lowered them quickly, seemingly not knowing what to do with himself. "Aero . . . you're just like him."

Aero forced out a laugh. "Who, my dad? All we have in common is our eye color."

Peter shook his head. "N— no. Not in looks." He sighed. "You're . . . you're strong, Aero. And you're determined. And you're so, so smart. You're kind, you really are, deep down. And you just . . . you remind me of him. Hearing you speak, looking at you, I can't— I can't." Peter crossed his arms. "You're— I know you hate being compared to him, but every time I look at you, I see Tony. I can't— . . . I can't not see him."

". . . Yeah? How do you think I feel?" Aero snapped. "I'm the heir to Stark Industries and I don't even like science, I'm in a fight with my mom because I'm the worst kid on the planet, and I still have to deal with the fact that my dad isn't coming back to fix this mess. You think you can't look at me? I have to look at myself in the mirror everyday!" His voice cracked at the end. Peter reached out to him, but Aero took a step back, shutting his eyes tightly. "Don't. Just— . . . just don't."

"Aero," Peter pleaded brokenly.

"Just let me out of here," Aero told him, looking at the door. "Fix the lock or something, I don't care. But I want to leave."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No," Peter insisted. "We're not done. We still need to talk."

". . . I hate you," Aero spat. "I fucking hate you and I never want to see you again."

"I know."

"I don't want you to talk to me anymore."

Peter ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots. "I know."

"Leave me alone."

Peter hesitantly put a hand on Aero's arm, then pulled him for a hug when he realized that Aero had no intention of walking away.

They don't move for a while. They barely move at all. They don't leave the bathroom until the end of school, when they sneak out of the door (once Peter figures out how to unlock it) and blend into the crowd. Peter holds his hand as they walk through the front, and Aero keeps close to him. He's shaking. He gripped Peter's hand too tightly. He can barely breath, especially when they get on the train. Aero sends a text to Happy telling him that he'll be at Peter's, and he trusts Happy to tell Pepper.

And then it's just them.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

May won't be home until 7:30 p.m., Peter told him. She's working at the F.E.A.S.T. shelter, her own personal project, funded by Stark Industries. It's a homeless shelter, he explained as he led Aero to his apartment. Somewhere for the Blipped to find themselves when everything they know has changed. Peter volunteers there when he can, but he's more focused on his Spider-Man duties. The world was still chaotic, and people needed something familiar.

They both collapsed onto the couch. Aero hasn't said a word since he told Peter to leave him alone.

"Do you want something to eat?" Peter asked. "We can order pizza. Or I can make something." Aero shook his head mutely. Peter frowned. "Aero, you need to eat. You spent, like, six hours crying. At least ask me for water."

"I'm fine." He's been saying that a lot recently. He doesn't think it's true.

Peter sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." Peter reached for the remote to turn on the TV. It was a re-run of a Spongebob episode. Peter put the remote down and sat back.

The fall into silence. Aero can barely breath. The last time he'd been to Peter's place, they were going to Flash's party. The last time he'd actually been inside, he'd been hiding from the press. Both times hadn't felt so tense. He'd never been so nervous around Peter before.

He hated it.

He wanted things to be normal.

He wanted to be normal.

"Did you, uh, did you listen to Ben Platt's newest album?" Peter asked. Aero didn't respond. After a moment, Peter snapped, "You know, this would be easier if you would talk to me."

Aero glared at him. "Talk to you? Is that what you want me to do, Peter? You want me to talk to you?"

Peter had the decency to see the irony. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I just . . . I miss you. A lot."

"You have a funny way of showing it." Peter looked away. ". . . And I'm right here."

"Are you?" Aero blinked, taken aback. "It's okay to be angry, okay? Or sad. Just . . . be here. Tell me something, anything. Please."

Aero ran his hands down his face, breathing in deeply. "I . . . don't want to talk about my feelings right now. That's what a therapist is for, and no, I'm not going to see one," he added quickly, already knowing what Peter was going to suggest. "I can work it out myself. I just want you to sit here with me. Quietly."

Peter nodded, deciding not to reply. Aero didn't even care if he was being a smartass.

Except he does care. Because Peter had never walked on eggshells around him. It was only recently—and, yes, Aero is counting that field trip as recently, even if it was five years ago—that Peter had gotten so careful. He was always making sure Aero was okay, that Aero was fine. And Aero wasn't fine! It didn't take a genius to figure that out!

". . . You can still talk," Aero admitted.

Peter looked lost. "Wait, I'm confused, what do you want me to do, exactly?" he asked.

Aero rolled his eyes. "I don't know. Tell me . . . anything. Literally anything. Something good."

Peter thought for a moment. "Well, uh. I helped a kid find her mom yesterday," he said, brightening. "She was wondering around near a coffee shop and said she couldn't find her mom, but I figured the mom was in the coffee shop so I brought her inside and we found her mom together. It was really sweet."

Aero couldn't help but smile. "You're a dork," he decided. And then he leaned his head on Peter's shoulder.

The strangest thing happens—or doesn't happen. Because neither of them freeze.

Aero will freeze up later, just thinking about it. But he doesn't go still when it happens. It almost feels natural, sitting with Peter, his head on Peter's shoulder, the silence growing more comfortable. Maybe that's why Aero kept coming back to Peter—he was easy to just sit with, to breath with. It doesn't matter how frustrated Aero is with him—Peter had a way of dialing Aero's anger down with just a smile, even if all Aero wanted to do was yell at him until he didn't smile anymore.

He could never stay mad at Peter for long.

Aero looked at him as they sat there. It's quiet. The TV is faint playing the intro to another Spongebob episode, and Aero wants to fall asleep. He's exhausted. Peter was right—six hours of crying could really do you in, huh? Would it be rude to fall asleep at Peter's place without asking, on Peter without asking? Should he text his mom and tell her where he is and that he might be spending the night at Peter's, or should he just let her trust him, putting in whatever little faith she had that he was okay?

Aero yawned. He wanted to lay down, but he didn't want to move away from Peter. An image flashed in his mind, a compromise—a risky compromise that involved cuddling, and Aero could barely think of the word without feeling nervous. What if Peter got weirded out? What if this feeling was just brought on because Aero was too tired to think properly? What if . . . . there were so many 'what ifs,' and Aero didn't think any of them had a clear answer.

It's a risk Aero thinks he has to take. He sat up, and the disappointed expression Peter makes is enough encouragement he needs. "Lay down," he ordered, and after giving Aero a confused expression, Peter did, putting his back against the armrest of the couch. Aero nudged Peter's legs apart, and he's entirely aware of how they're both going red at the action, but he laid down and puts his arms around Peter's waist, his head resting on Peter's stomach, and things kind of feel alright.

And then Peter puts his hand on the top of Aero's head, hesitant, and begins running his fingers through Aero's hair, and it's enough to drive Aero fucking crazy, but he closes his eyes and thinks that he'd rather be here for the rest of his life than anywhere else.

And it's enough.

Peter is enough.

It's enough for Aero to fall asleep.

He hasn't had a dream for nine days. He can't really explain why—he knows that everyone dreams. But Aero is good at remembering his dreams, and for the past nine days he hadn't been able to recall anything. It would be different it was a one-time occurrence, but this wasn't a one-time thing. It didn't bother him too much—not dreaming meant that the possibility of seeing his dad was at 0%, but it also meant that Aero was in a black space that stretched on for mils, and when he woke up he felt even more exhausted than before.

It was fine. He didn't mind it.

Aero had begun theorizing about it after the second night of no dreams—maybe it had something to do with being Blipped. He would have to find people to interview to prove his theory, but it was the only reason he could think of. Unless grief made someone unable to dream? But Aero's grieved before—maybe not for the dead, but for living people who made bad choices. Did grieving for the dead somehow made dreams disappear? Aero was too interested in the subject, and he figured he should find some way to prove one of the theories.

Oh, right, one bad thing about not dreaming—any thoughts Aero might have had during the endless blackness was lost to time when he woke up.

He was vaguely aware of where he was—Peter's apartment. Cuddling . . . Peter. The TV was still on, but the volume was lower than it was before. There was a clock next to the TV that read 7:15, which meant they had about fifteen minutes until May was home. Aero sat up, yawning and stretching, and found that he was alone of the couch. He felt a little disappointed by it, but also a little impressed—how the hell had Peter moved without disturbing Aero? And where had he gone?

The answer: to his room.

It was a nice room. A closet to the left upon entry, closed; a bed to the right, stuffed into the corner, three blankets and four pillows piled onto it; the floor was a beige carpet, and there was a desk against the wall, right next to the bed. It was a nice room, but it was small and cramped—and maybe it made Aero sound entitled to say it, but he had no idea how Peter hadn't gone crazy with so little space. Then he felt bad for thinking that, because obviously him and Peter lived different lives.

Peter was sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His hair was messy, sticking up in some places; he looked focused, pursing his lips as he read whatever was on his phone screen, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He'd changed out of his Midtown sweater—now he was wearing a plain gray shirt with long-sleeves. Aero stood there for a moment, dazed and a little tired, before he shook his head. Clearly Peter's Spider-sense was useless, because Peter didn't notice that Aero was in his room until Aero cleared his throat.

Peter looked up from his phone. He smiled sheepishly. "Hey. Sorry. Waiting for a text from Ned."

Aero nodded. "Yeah, it's cool," he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "Um. I should probably leave. My mom might be worrying now."

Peter frowned. "I mean . . . you can stay over, if you want."

Aero raised an eyebrow. A twinge of anger started rising in his chest, but he pushed it down. "Sure, maybe, if I wasn't currently in a fight with my mom. She wouldn't want me to have a sleepover, anyway."

Peter tilted his head. "We've had a sleepover before," he pointed out.

Aero bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. "It's different. Mom's fine when people come over— or, uh, came over, anyway. She didn't care because she knew I was safe. But in my timeline . . . even if it was five years ago for her, I lied about hanging out with you to hang out with Martin, and now I'm going to school without her permission. Plus we're, you know, fighting," he repeated. Peter nodded, though he looked a little suspicious.

That anger was rising again. Peter didn't have a right to be suspicious of Aero's intentions—if Aero wanted to have a sleepover, he'd have a damn sleepover, whether it was at his house or Peter's. And, sure, maybe he didn't want to have one—maybe he wanted to go home. But at least he was being nice about it, and at least what he was saying was true. It was completely different, completely unfair, for Peter to question if Aero was telling the truth.

He pushed the anger down again, taking a deep breath.

"I'm going to call Happy and then I'll . . . go."

Peter nodded, looking down. "Yeah, okay. Uh, we can hang out later, though, right?"

Aero couldn't help but say, "That depends. Are you going to keep ignoring me at school?"

The words sound harsh, even to him. Peter's expression fell, but Aero doesn't care. He's telling the truth, for once in his goddamn life. And he still has a right to be angry, so he lets the anger fester and infect him.

"I thought we talked about that," Peter said slowly, getting to his feet. He took a step toward Aero, who took a step back.

"We didn't talk about anything," Aero spat, turning around to leave.

"I thought things were going back to normal!"

Aero tensed, clenching his jaw. "Normal? Things don't get to be normal! You're a fucking superhero, my dad is dead, I have a sister, I— we can't be normal, Peter! And even if we could go back to being just us, I just get so— so angry." He whirled around. "You ignored me for weeks while I suffered! You cut class and didn't even have the fucking decency to say sorry at the funeral! You don't get to want normal!"

Peter was quiet, his hands curled into fists at his side. Aero considered backing off, but this was Peter. He trusted Peter, even in their angered states, not to take things too far. "I apologized for that, Aero, you heard it yourself! And you know how hard it was for me to ignore you."

"Oh, grow up! You're such a fucking challenge, Peter," Aero snapped.

"And don't care about anything!" Peter shouted.

"You care too much!"

"You enjoy hurting people!"

"Fuck you!" Aero yelled at him, and then he grabbed Peter by the shirt and pulled him forward.

And they're kissing.

It's messy and unbelievable and fueled by anger and resentment and stupid feelings that won't go away, but it's theirs. Peter puts his hands through Aero's hair and Aero keeps his fists clenched around Peter's sweatshirt, and it's all of them, no one else. They pull away, once, both of them catching their breath from being too scared to breath, and then Peter pushes him against the wall beside the bed and kisses him until Aero feels like his lips are going to bruise.

And it's them. It's all them.

And then it isn't, because May comes in to make sure they haven't killed each other during their fight, and she gasps in surprise. Peter moves away, looking embarrassed; Aero can feel his heart in his throat, and it occurs to him that Peter had never come out to May, probably, and this wasn't exactly the ideal way to come out, being caught kissing your best friend, but it's happened.

And, God, is it wrong for Aero to want to do it again?

"Well, um," she stammered, but she didn't look angry, "do you boys want dinner?"

Peter sighed, covering his face as soon as she'd left the room. "I'm sorry," Aero said, quiet, not able to look at Peter. "I don't know what happened."

Peter doesn't respond, sitting down on the bed. After a moment, Aero leaves, realizing that now isn't the time to talk. May tries to stop him on the way out, but Aero calls out a goodbye and he calls Happy on the way down, just wanting to go home.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

One of the Drunks by Panic! at the Disco blared from the stereo as Happy drove up the cabin. Besides the music, the car was silent—Aero hadn't said a word since he'd gotten in the car. Happy clearly had questions, since Aero had been practically hyperventilating when he'd called his godfather, but Aero didn't know how to form a proper sentence given the way his brain was still fuzzy from the kiss.

Oh, the kiss!

Aero reached over and turned the music down as he turned toward Happy. "I kissed Peter."

Happy nearly hit the gas. Luckily, he hit the breaks instead. "What?" he choked out.

Aero grinned. "I. Kissed. Peter." He lowered his voice. "And he . . . he kissed me back."

Happy smiled nefariously. "Congratulations? I thought you and him were fighting."

"Oh, we are. I think he hates me now. But we still kissed," Aero whispered.

Happy frowned at him. "Are you . . . drunk?" he asked hesitantly.

"Only on adrenaline," Aero stated proudly. He opened the car door. "Well, goodbye. Thank you for picking me up!"

Happy gave him a weird look. Aero didn't hear his sigh of confusion after he'd closed the car door. He waved to Happy from the front door before stepping inside, inhaling deeply as the events of the day caught up with him. His hand still hurt. He was pretty sure his face was still red from the kiss. He was still drowsy from his nap but so alive from the fact that he kissed Peter Parker. How long had Aero been dreaming of this moment?

He didn't have time to reflect. His mom was in the kitchen, pouring milk into a mug. She had a packet of hot chocolate mix beside the cup. She looked up when he entered the house, then quickly looked back down.

Aero frowned. "Uh . . . hey," he said, dropping his backpack next to the door. "Sorry, I know it's late."

She didn't look at him. "It's fine."

Aero pursed his lips. "Right, yeah. Uh . . . can we . . . talk?"

She forced a laugh. "Now you want to talk?"

Aero winced. Yeah, okay, he deserved that. And now he was totally realizing what Peter felt like whenever Aero aimed that particular jab at him. Jeez, Aero didn't know it would feel this bad. "What else can I say?" Aero asked, desperate to fix their relationship. It seemed it was a day for make ups.

Pepper finally met his gaze. "For one, you can start going to a therapist."

Aero clenched his jaw. "I don't . . . I don't need to see a therapist."

"Aero!" Aero jumped back slightly when she raised her voice. "You're lashing out at people that you care about. You're being rebellious. You're—"

"Maybe I'm being rebellious because I never got the chance to be a normal teenager!" Aero snapped. "I'm the son of a superhero— two superheroes! I've been in the eye of media since I was seven, and now I'm being referred to as the Heir of Stark Industries when I don't even have an interest in science!"

"No one is expecting you take over the company, Aero!" she told him firmly. "You're allowed to do whatever you want! Music, science, filming, whatever! We don't care what you do as long as it makes you happy, and damn whatever the media says! Since when did you start listening to them?" Aero fell silent, realizing she was right. She sighed, composing herself. "Aero. You're my son. I just want you to be happy. And whatever's going on, you— you're scaring me," she admitted. "I don't want you to disappear."

"I'm right here," he said softly.

"Are you?" she asked.

Aero felt like he was thrown back in time. Peter had said those same words to him only a few hours ago. Had he really been there with Peter, or off in his own world? Was he here, now, with Pepper, or was he still distant, still spacey? He didn't know. He hadn't felt grounded to the earth in so long, it was hard to tell if he was fully in the moment of half-way in, half-way out.

He didn't want to be half-way.

"One meeting. That's all I ask. I won't know anything you tell her, but just go to one meeting and see how it goes. Please," she begged, her voice cracking. It's enough to almost send Aero over the edge.

". . . Okay," he finally relented. "I'll go to therapy." He frowned. "Wait, you said 'her.' You already found someone?"

Pepper nodded. "Rhodey referred me to her. Her name's Dr. Kane, she helps with PTSD and teen therapy," she explained. Aero nodded. ". . . Do you want some hot chocolate?"

And just like that, things were back to normal.

"Where's Morgan?" Aero asked as he sat down on the sofa, coco in hand.

Pepper waved her hand. "Asleep. She made me read the book that you've been reading to her, uh, The Titan's Curse?" she guessed. Aero laughed, nodding. "Good book. We're at the past where Percy is captured by Dionysus," she added. Aero took a sip of his coco.

"It's not my favorite, but nothing can really beat out the first book. Or Magnus Chase," he decided.

"I have no idea what those words mean," she teased. They lapsed into silence, each drinking from their respective cups.

". . . I think I love him," Aero said casually, before taking a long sip of his coco. Pepper nearly dropped her mug on the floor. She stared at him, waiting for Aero to continue. Aero lowered his cup and took a deep breath as he got to his feet. "Well. Goodnight."

"Aero," she warned. He sighed, sitting back down. "You think you're in love with Peter," she said, like it's a statement more than a question. He nodded. "Well, congratulations. You're officially the last person to find out." Aero snorted, nearly choking on his hot coco. "What brought this realization on?"

Aero hesitated, wondering how much he could give away. But he had a feeling she knew the answer anyway—he didn't trust May not to call Pepper to tell her what happened. Not because May was untrustworthy in nature, but because she'd literally caught Aero and Peter in a heated make-out session and was probably wondering if they were dating and now telling her. "We, uh . . . we had a fight. And I kissed him." He swallowed thickly. "And he kissed me back."

She nodded. "Well . . . Peter is a great kid. I'm glad you love him. Just be careful," she told him sincerely.

Aero shrugged. "Right. Because I don't want to get my heart broken." Too late, Aero thought, remembering the expression on Peter's face when they'd been caught. Regret—instant regret that Aero didn't feel, because he was never going to regret kissing Peter, even if it ruined the best thing he'd ever had.

She rolled her eyes. "No, because the chance of either of you getting pregnant is at zero, but—"

"Oh— Mom," he complained, his ears going bright red. She laughed, drinking the rest of her coco. "No, we're not— no!" he exclaimed, not even wanting to think about it, and especially not wanting to think about it near his mother. "No," he insisted, curling up on the couch as he sipped his coco. He guessed that the redness of his face was not from the warmth, but from the complete and utter embarrassment of his mother suggesting that him and Peter would have sex at this current point in time.

Well, his brain told him, logically you and Peter could, the future, be having se—

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, Aero thought quickly, trying to erase those thoughts. "I'm going to bed," he announced, getting up to put his cup in the sink. Pepper laughed. Aero washed out the cup and then put it down in the sink to finish washing for the morning. He headed up the stairs, then paused, looking down at Pepper for a moment.

"Hey, Mom, you know I love you, right?"

She turned her head to smile at him. "I know, Aero. I love you, too."

Aero smiled. Sometimes it was just nice to hear it again.