Bug boy || Peter Parker

Six

"Now when you punch someone you need to twist your body like so", Tate demonstrated. He moved slowly, twisting his torso at the waist as his fist tapped against the bag. Peter nodded, watching closely. "Make sure to keep your wrist straight as well. If your wrist is bent funny it can cause trauma to the joint and knuckles".

Peter froze as Tate gently took hold of his arm. His nimble fingers carefully stretched Peter's arm out. "Now when you form a fist, keep your thumb here. Don't trap it under your fingers". Tate rearrange Peter's fingers then moved his attention to his wrist. He bent it so that his forearm made a straight line.

Tate stepped back and demonstrated a simple punch at normal speed. The bag rocked slightly. "There. Like that, once you get the form down, it's easy to add power to it. Gloves help you keep the form and protect your knuckles. But a mugger isn't going to wait for you to put on your gloves when they attack". Tate giggled at his own joke. He patted Peter on the shoulder and gestured towards a basket of boxing gloves in the corner. "Put some on and give practise. That cool?"

Peter nodded. "Thank you. Tate. This is really useful". Tate beamed at him and stepped back. He crossed back over to his backpack and began taking off his shoes. He pulled out his gym shorts from earlier that day and a hair band. "I'm going to do some kickboxing", he said as he began to unbutton his jeans. Peter hurriedly turned around as Tate pulled on his shorts. When he glanced back, Tate was bouncing on his heels.

"Chill Peter. We have gym together. We share a locker room. Relax", he teased. Peter felt warmth rush to his cheeks. Tate laughed and ran his hand through his hair. Peter tried to ignore the way the strands fell neatly over his forehead. He watched and Tate neatly tied his long strands into a cute ponytail before he realised he was staring. Peter turned and hit the punch back again. He watched it swing.

——

They spent a while there, hours probably. Although it was hard to tell with the lack of natural light. Peter was glad for the very good venting system in there. It kept the rooms cool and he was surprisingly sweating. It had been hard concentrating on not using his new found strength. He had to concentrate on both retaining his form and also hitting with normal strength.

Tate had been doing his own practicing across the room. He bounced around feather light on his toes in the easy way of long practise. Peter had stopped more than once to watch him. Tate kicked hard enough to send the bag swinging almost vertically. After a long time he stood back and pulled out his phone screen. Peter looked up as Tate jogged over.

"Hey Pete. Sorry for keeping you for so long. It's almost six".

"Is it?" Peter pulled out his phone. It was five fifty.

Tate grinned at him as he pulled his hair free. It fell down around the tops of his ears and he ruffled it with a smile. He reached out a tapped Peter on the shoulder. "Come on. I'll walk you to your train station".

The two of them pulled on their jackets and left the gym. Peter waving back at Ralph happily as they went. This time Peter led the way towards his train stop, Tate keeping step. "So do you catch the train?" He asked.

Tate shook his head. "My dad has someone who picks me up".

Peter blinked, surprised about the nonchalance which the other boy said it. He furrowed his brow at Tate. "So you're rich?"

Tate shrugged in a bored fashion. As if he was used to the question, which he probably was. "Well unfortunately so. Don't worry Peter. I'm not a dick like flash. Did you think I was?" He scowled.

Peter flushed as Tate's scowl transformed into a grin. He washed his arms around, worried that maybe he had offended him. "No no, I didn't mean to be rude. I uh, um"-

"Petey boy", Tate was laughing. "Chill out. I was just teasing". He poked a blushing Peter in the arm, smile soft. Peter, blushed harder.

A ringing sound came from Tate's pocket. Tate stopped walking to fish out his phone. Peter watched as he answered it. "Ayo?" Tate's face life up for a minute, a blinding grin tugging at his cheeks. "Dad! Hey".

He began walking again, Peter staying silent as Tate listened. Tate let out a few nods and hums in response to whatever his dad was saying. The station was in sight when Tate stopped suddenly. "What?!" Peter jumped at the sudden exclamation.

"Really?! But-! Did Steve really punch you? Did you tell Pepper yet? What do you mean you're in queens? I thought you weren't back till tomorrow. Did you have Friday hack the cameras?"

As the conversation progressed, Tate sounding more and more frustrated as it went on, Peter go steadily more confused. After several minutes he sighed and hung up the phone with a strangled "see you in a bit then".

"Is everything okay?" Peter asked nervously. Tate ran his hands through his hair with another frustrated puff of air. He glared at Peter in a way that made Peter fisher. It was as if Tate was analysing him with X-ray vision. It made him feel unexpectedly guilty. For what, he did not know.

"It seems I'm going home with you", Tate grumbled. "My dad will pick me up from yours". He set up a speedy walk towards the station. Peter has to jog to catch up.

"What do you mean coming back with me? How does your dad even know you're with me? Did you tell him?"

"I told Pepper", Tate rolled his eyes. "But apparently Friday listens to my conversations now. I thought I removed that function last month. I'm going to have to go through my phone again. Arg it's such a hassle".

For the whole of the train ride, Tate refused to say another word. He say grumpily stewing next to Peter and typing furiously on his phone. The ten minute journey was heavy with awkward silence. Tate followed him off the train and all the way to Peter's apartment block. Much to Peter's growing nervousness.

As they arrived, Peter noticed a big black expensive car parked down the street. The windows were tinted but it did not look overly suspicious. Peter still narrowed his eyes at it curiously. His frown turned into surprise as he saw Tate give the car the middle finger. "What did you do that for?"

"Nothing. Just extending my displeasure", Tate grumbled. "Now Pete. Show me your apartment".

"Is that you're dad's car?"

"Yes. Now keep going". Tate pushed Peter forward. Peter, who was also growing steadily frustrated with this sudden change, led him begrudgingly inside. Together they climbed the floors till they arrived before Peter's door. He unlocked it with the usual clatter.

"Hey May. I'm home. I brought a friend with me"- Peter broke off as he stepped inside and spotted the scene in the living area.

"Oh Peter!" A very pretty middle aged woman smiled welcomingly. She waved at the two boys. Beside her, Tony Stark was sat on their couch drinking coffee. Peter froze, mouth open in surprise as Tate closed the door behind them.

"Hi Peter", Tony waved politely. "Nice to meet another friend of my son's. How was school?" The question was directed at Tate.

Tate shrugged. "Normal and boring. Hi Ms Parker. I'm Tate Doe Stark. Nice to meet you".

May rose and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you too Tate. I'm so glad your friends with my Peter. Was it you who got him to apply for this internship? Thank you so much".

"Internship? Stark? What?" Peter had to be missing something here.

Unedited