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“So, you’re saying I can eat everything here?” Peter asked in amazement, eyes scanning the overflowing buffet table at the Avengers team Christmas dinner. “Including the lasagna?”
Tony nodded. “Every single dish. I catered the entire event from a restaurant specifically specializing in allergen-free dishes. Despite how it may look, there’s not a drop of dairy in sight.”
“So”—Peter moved over to the dessert section of the table—”the cannolis? The tiramisu?” He looked up at his mentor, near giddy with delight. “Even the cheesecake?!”
Tony chuckled. “For once, knock yourself out, kid.”
For just a second, Peter looked like he might cry. He settled for pulling Tony into a bone-crushing hug. “Mr. Stark, this is the best Christmas ever,” he said sincerely.
X
As expected, dinner was a rousing affair. The team joked and laughed as they ate, sharing anecdotes and recounting past missions with each other. With the exception of maybe two dishes that had weird textures, the catered dairy-free food was all surprisingly good. Peter tried a little of everything, gushing his thanks to his mentor the entire time to the point that Tony felt a little bad for not having done this before. Everyone agreed the crème brûlée topped tofu-cheesecake was the star of the show; Tony watched fondly as the kid polished off his third slice.
Once dinner was finished, the team moved into the common area living room to decide on a movie to watch. Or attempt to decide on a movie anyway.
“White Christmas,” Bruce said. “Hands down, best Christmas film of all time.”
“You can’t be serious,” Clint balked at him. He made eye contact with Tony. “Home Alone. That kid is a tactical mastermind.”
“I vote Die Hard,” Natasha said.
“That’s not a real Christmas movie,” Wanda complained. “I want to see Charlie Brown in English. I’ve only ever seen it dubbed in Sokovian.”
“Nah man, you gotta do the Grinch,” Sam said, walking in with a massive bowl of steaming popcorn.
Nat wrinkled up her nose. “Which version? Classic or Jim Carrey?” she asked as she snagged a handful of popcorn.
Sam shot her an offended look. “Jim Carrey is a classic.”
Steve was sulking in an armchair at the other end of the room. “I still vote Babes in Toyland,” he grumbled.
“Okay one, that definitely sounds like a porno,” Tony scoffed at him, “and two, that’s just because it’s the only one old enough for you to remember.”
“Hey,” Steve shot back, “I have the right to nostalgia just as much as the rest of you.”
“What about It’s a Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street?” Bruce suggested. “Those have gotta be from your era, right?” He glanced up at the ceiling for confirmation.
“It’s a Wonderful Life, directed by Frank Capra, was released in 1946,” FRIDAY informed. “Miracle on 34th Street, directed by Les Mayfield, was released in 1947.”
Steve sighed and shook his head. “I was frozen in ‘45.”
“Ah.” Bruce winced. “Sorry.”
“Okay, I say we let the kid pick,” Tony declared over the chatter. “What do you say, Pete?” he asked, turning towards the unusually quiet teenager at the other end of the sofa.
Peter seemed caught off guard. “Oh. Um, I dunno…” He shrugged and shifted position, pulling his legs up and tucking his knees to the side. “I’m good with whatever.”
“C’mon, you gotta have some preference,” Tony pressed.
“I guess…I mean, the Grinch is always good. Or Christmas Vacation, maybe?” Peter suggested.
“Oh man, how did I forget about the Griswold family?” Clint exclaimed. “I’m changing my vote.”
“I’m down,” Sam agreed. “Exploding turkeys, insufferable relatives, electrocuted cats...what’s not to love?”
X
It turned out Clint could more or less quote the whole movie and did so under his breath for the first five minutes solid until Nat threatened to silence him in a rather unsavory way. They were all much quieter after that.
The movie was amusing as always, but Tony was a little distracted. Peter kept shifting around on the sofa, only giving half-hearted laughs at the funny scenes. For the most part, his lips were pressed together tightly.
Tony frowned and leaned over to whisper at him. “You alright, kid?”
All traces of discomfort disappeared from Peter’s face as he quickly flashed his mentor a smile. “Yeah, of course.”
When they got to the swimming pool scene, Tony jokingly tossed a throw blanket over the kid’s head, blocking his view of the screen.
“Aw c’mon!” Peter complained, his voice a little muffled by the blanket. “It’s PG-13. You don’t even see anything.”
“No minors will be viewing sideboob under my roof, kiddo,” Tony declared.
Natasha smirked at him. “The hypocrisy is rampant.”
“Nah, I’m with Stark on this one,” Clint said. “Kid’s got plenty of time for that later.”
Wanda rolled her eyes. “You two are such dads.”
Still comically covered by the blanket, Peter got to his feet. “I’ll just use this opportunity to go to the bathroom,” he mumbled. “Enjoy your sideboob, everyone.”
The team snorted in laughter as the blanket-clad figure shuffled out of the living room.
X
When twenty minutes passed and Peter still hadn’t returned, Tony was starting to get antsy. Finally, he slipped off the couch and headed out to the hallway.
Upon discovering that the closest bathroom was unoccupied, he paused. “FRIDAY, where’s the kid?” he asked.
“Peter is currently in his bedroom,” the AI replied.
Tony’s brow furrowed. He’d just been teasing the kid about the sideboob thing—he honestly didn’t give a shit if Peter watched PG-13 or even R rated scenes for that matter. But maybe calling Peter out in front of a group of his literal heroes had embarrassed him more than Tony thought.
Figuring an apology was probably in order, he made his way up to Peter’s room. Technically, it was one of the guest bedrooms, but Peter stayed in it so often that it had morphed into his own space.
When Tony got there, he saw that the door was just slightly ajar. Through the gap, he could see Peter sprawled out face down on top of the bed, arms circled around his pillow which he was clutching to his stomach. His head was tilted away from the doorway so Tony only saw the back of it.
Tony hesitated a second before rapping the back of his knuckles against the door. “Hey kid? You planning on coming back?”
Peter pulled his head up and turned towards the doorway. Seeing his mentor, he immediately pushed himself up to sit up on the bed against the headboard. “Oh, sorry!” he gasped. “You didn’t pause the movie for me, right? Because you can totally keep playing it.”
Tony pushed the door open further and stepped inside. “They’re still watching, don’t worry,” he assured. “But you disappeared on us. What’s going on?”
Peter glanced down at the bedspread and shrugged. “Just got kinda tired. Wanted to lay down.”
Tony frowned as he moved closer to the bed. “Too tired to sit on a couch and watch a movie?” he questioned. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” Peter mumbled back, but his stomach cut him off with an angry-sounding growl. A grimace flashed across his features and Peter snaked an arm around his middle.
It was a gesture Tony knew all too well. He blinked at the kid. “You have a stomach ache." It was a statement, not a question.
Peter gave him a sheepish look.
Tony blinked again. “Why the fuck do you have a stomach ache?” he demanded.
“Uh...sorry?” Peter mumbled.
“No, I didn’t mean-” Tony cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. “I just don’t get it. Nothing you ate should have had dairy, so why is this happening?”
Peter gave a half-laugh. “Welcome to my world, Mr. Stark.” He hugged the pillow back to his obviously cramping stomach. “It's fine—I'm used to it. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve ordered soy milk in drinks at Starbucks and got regular milk instead.” He shrugged. “Now I just get that iced tea lemonade thing when I go there.”
“This is unbelievable,” Tony muttered irritably. “FRIDAY, call up the catering company. I want to speak to their manager. Now.”
“No, no, it’s okay!” Peter said quickly. “You don’t have to get anyone in trouble! I’m sure it was just an accident.”
“No, they can’t get away with this shit,” Tony argued, the feeling of righteous anger rising in him. “If they’re gonna advertise their menu as dairy-free, it better be fucking dairy-free! I mean, what if you were someone who had an actual dairy allergy instead of an intolerance?” he demanded. “Then we’d be talking about anaphylactic shock, not an upset stomach. This is serious, Peter—they have to be held responsible.”
Peter rubbed a hand at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, so about that...”
“What?”
“Um…I wasn’t gonna tell you, but if you’re gonna yell at someone—” Peter steeled himself with a breath. “It might not be totally their fault?”
Tony narrowed his eyes at the kid. “What did you do?”
If possible, Peter looked even more uncomfortable. “Uh…it wasn’t really me either…” He glanced up at the ceiling nervously. “I was kinda checking with FRIDAY before you got here to see what might have gone wrong and it turns out this place has two different specialized menus you can order from.”
“Right.” Tony nodded slowly. He was well aware of that. “One is dairy-free, and the other is gluten-free. I ordered off the dairy-free one.”
Peter’s stomach grumbled again and he pressed his hand to it with a wince. “Yeah, so, the two menus have pretty similar sounding stuff…”
Realization suddenly dawned on Tony. “Oh my god,” he muttered, a sick feeling coming over him. “Tell me I didn’t…”
“No no, not everything!” Peter cut in. He gave a humorless laugh. “Trust me, Mr. Stark, I would be like, on the bathroom floor, praying for god to just finish the job if that were the case.”
That image didn’t make Tony feel even remotely better. He squeezed shut his eyes and pressed his fist to them. “Which dishes did I order wrong?”
“Just um… just the cheesecake,” Peter mumbled. His stomach groaned again. “And like, also maybe the cannolis?”
Guilt flooded through Tony. “Great. Fantastic.” He huffed out a sigh. “I fucking poisoned you.”
“No, no it was an accident!” Peter said quickly. “And it was probably my fault anyway—I should have known there was no way that gloriousness was made of tofu,” he said with a half laugh.
Tony ran a hand over his face. With all the shit he usually gave the kid about eating things he knew would make him sick, knowing that for once Tony was the reason for Peter’s current suffering made him feel terrible. “God, kid, I’m so sorry.”
“It's fine! I wasn’t even gonna tell you because I knew you’d feel bad but then you found me and…” Suddenly Peter paled and hopped off the bed. “Um, I gotta go, be right back."
“Pete, I swear I’m gonna make this up to you,” Tony called after the kid as he headed for the en suite bathroom. “Christmas is in five days and I am an actual billionaire, so dream big kiddo!”
Peter threw a mock salute in Tony’s direction as he scurried off. Just as he got to the door, he looked back and locked eyes with his mentor. “It was really good cheesecake, Mr. Stark," he said sincerely.
As soon as the door was shut behind him, Tony let out another sigh and muttered at the ceiling, “FRIDAY, get my Audi dealer on the phone. Tell him I’ve got a rush order.”