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It was an ordinary evening at the Avengers Tower—or, at least, as ordinary as things could get for Peter. He had just finished with his schoolwork (sort of) and was now preparing for the gala Tony had dragged him into. It was one of those charity events where billionaire philanthropists rubbed elbows with actors, models, and, apparently, superheroes in expensive suits. And it seemed Tony had decided that Peter—his young protégé—was an essential part of the guest list.
Peter stood in front of the mirror in his room, staring at the small black silk bowtie in his hands. He had never tied one before, and now, he was about to wear it to a fancy event with people who probably had bowties tied by professional butlers or trained monkeys.
The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly. There were only two hours before they had to leave. Peter glanced at his phone, hesitated, then opened Safari and searched “How to tie a bowtie.” The first link was a YouTube video, and Peter clicked it with a glimmer of hope.
The video was some guy in a tuxedo, tying a bowtie with the precision of a surgeon. The instructions were clear, but there was one problem: the guy made it look effortless. Peter, however, felt like he was trying to solve a Rubik's Cube while blindfolded.
“Okay, step one,” Peter muttered aloud, his voice tinged with panic, “cross the wide end over the narrow end.” He managed that, but then it all went south when the guy on screen breezed past “loop the wide end underneath” in about five seconds, leaving Peter struggling with the fabric, trying to get it to lay flat.
“This doesn’t look right,” Peter muttered to himself as the tie grew increasingly tangled in his hands. “This is nothing like the video.”
He watched the rest of the tutorial, feeling more and more like a failure with each passing second. After a few more attempts, he finally got to the point where the video instructed him to “make a bow shape with the narrow end.” But that’s when his brain froze.
“A bow shape?” Peter repeated, turning the bowtie this way and that. He glanced at the mirror again, staring at the absurdly tangled mess in his hands. “This isn’t a bowtie. This is a... I don’t know what this is!”
Peter stared at his phone for a moment, completely defeated. It was just a bowtie, for crying out loud. How could this be so hard? His Spidey senses could pinpoint danger from a mile away, but this? This was beyond him.
Maybe I should just go without it. I’ll just wear the suit and leave the tie... loose? Yeah, that should work.
But deep down, Peter knew that wasn’t an option. Not with Tony Stark around. Tony had gone through all the effort of getting him a tuxedo and encouraging him to attend the gala. Peter couldn’t just show up looking like a disheveled teenager who had forgotten what “classy” meant. And so, with a resigned sigh, Peter made the decision.
I need help.
His fingers hesitated as they hovered over his phone. The thought of asking Tony for help made his stomach turn. On the one hand, Peter didn’t want to bother Tony with something so trivial. Tony had done so much for him—built him the suit, rescued him from life-threatening situations, even acted as a mentor (however reluctantly). Peter didn’t want to be the kid who always needed saving.
But on the other hand, who else was he going to ask? He could try to Google more articles, watch another tutorial video, or even call May for advice—but the clock was ticking, and he had already tried all of those. His only real option was to go straight to the source.
Taking a deep breath, Peter typed out a message to Tony.
“Hey, Mr. Stark... quick question... um, do you know how to tie a bowtie?”
He stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the send button. Tony was busy. Probably. He was always busy. And this was such a stupid, small thing to bother him with.
But then his phone buzzed with a response.
“Hey Underoos, how is this a quick question? Tying a bowtie is an art form. Fine. I’ll help you. Meet me in the lab in 10 minutes. I’ll show you how it’s done. Prepare to be amazed by my mad bowtie-tying skills.”
Peter blinked, staring at the screen. Was Tony messing with him? Or was he actually serious? He read the text over a couple of times, not sure if he should laugh or cry with relief. Either way, Tony was offering to help.
Okay. Deep breath. I can do this.
Peter quickly threw on his tuxedo jacket, straightened his tie, and grabbed the mangled bowtie. As he made his way to the elevator, his mind raced. Was this a bad idea? What if Tony made fun of him? What if it was something so simple that Peter should’ve already known? The self-doubt started creeping in, but Peter shook it off. He had to get this right.
When Peter arrived at the lab ten minutes later, Tony was leaning against a workbench, casually scrolling through his phone. When he saw Peter enter, he looked up with an exaggerated sigh.
“So, the bowtie saga has finally come to a close,” Tony said, flashing his signature smirk. “Come on over, kid. Let’s get you sorted.”
Peter was still feeling awkward, standing at the entrance, holding the bowtie like it was a ticking time bomb. He shifted on his feet.
“Look, I know this seems dumb,” Peter started, his voice a bit hesitant. “But I’ve tried everything, and I’m not even close to getting it right. I’m... I’m really sorry to ask you, but I just can’t figure it out. I feel kinda dumb.”
Tony didn’t even flinch. He just pushed himself off the workbench with an exaggerated grace, as if tying a bowtie was the most casual thing in the world.
“Kid, if I had a nickel for every time I had to help someone with something basic, I’d be—” Tony cut himself off with a chuckle. “Actually, no, I already have enough nickels. But look, it’s fine. I’ve got your back. You’re not the first person to need help with this.”
Peter nodded, relieved. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not like I couldn’t ask someone else—like a normal person—but…”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you texted me for bowtie help. Now, come over here and watch closely.”
Peter followed Tony to the workbench, where Tony picked up the bowtie like it was just another tool in his workshop. He held it up in front of Peter’s face.
“Alright, here’s how it goes,” Tony began, his tone calm and methodical. “First thing, drape it around your neck just like this. Nice and loose, no choking.”
Peter did as instructed, trying to keep the tie from slipping off as Tony continued.
“Now, cross the wide end over the narrow end. Simple. See? Easy. Don’t overthink it,” Tony said, demonstrating with precision. “Then, loop the wide end under the narrow end and pull it tight. Don’t strangle yourself.”
Peter followed, his hands shaking slightly but trying his best to mimic Tony’s movements.
“Now, here comes the tricky part,” Tony said, his voice more serious. “You’re going to fold the front end of the narrow side like this, creating a loop. That’s your first bow shape. Now, hold it with one hand.”
Peter managed to do that, but his fingers felt clumsy, like they weren’t quite getting it right. Tony patiently adjusted the tie with a small sigh.
“Relax, Peter. It’s just a tie. You can do this. Now, take the wide end of the tie and loop it through the back, like this,” Tony continued, moving quickly but with expert precision.
Peter’s hands followed, and before he knew it, he was holding the bowtie in the right shape, ready to pull it tight.
Tony stepped back, inspecting the work. “There. Now, just pull it snug. Tighten it. Make sure both sides are even.”
Peter stood back from the mirror, completely astonished. He’d actually done it. The bowtie was perfect.
“I... I did it,” Peter whispered, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Tony clapped him on the back with a grin. “Told you it wasn’t rocket science. Now you’re ready to go and look like a million bucks.”
Peter beamed, feeling a rush of pride. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. Seriously. I was freaking out. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Tony shrugged, acting like it was no big deal. “Don’t mention it. Now, let’s get you to that gala, where you’ll charm the crowd with both your chiseled good looks and your impeccable bowtie skills.”