Peter / Tony
"I'm really...not." Peter mutters, because it's true. He consciously uncurls his fingers from the fabric of Tony's shirt; the irony of him crying in Tony's arms twice in less than 24 hours isn't lost on him. At least neither of them is dead, this time (well, sort of), but as improvements go, that's a pretty shitty one.
Peter doesn't feel embarrassed - well, maybe distantly, but right now he's just too numb and worn out. Finally, he pulls back enough to wipe the last of the tears from his face, which really just smears the dirt and blood around on his face. It would gross, if he weren't already well past the point of - pardon his language - fuck it.
"...ow." One hand trails down to his side, which is starting to feel Not That Great, Thanks For Asking. This is nowhere near the most beat up he's ever been, but it's not ideal (worse than Coney Island, not as bad as the Oscorp Incident), and it's making itself known, now that he's calming down (numbing out, more like). "Ugh."