Chapter Text
Peter strolled lazily across the lavish living room, the carpet soft against his feet, but causing a slight drag where his pajama pants got caught. The blinds were up, sunlight streaming in from the rising sun through the floor to ceiling windows, Manhattan bustling far below them.
Even though he had been out until some ungodly hour last night on patrol, he felt weirdly not like absolute death today. It was a pleasant change.
He smelt the delicious aroma of bacon before he even heard the sizzling of the pans and the scrape of a spatula against enamel. The hardwood floors creaked in time with the soft humming that was emanating from the kitchen.
With a grin on his face, and a soft grumble of his stomach, he rounded the corner to find Steve. Dressed in a 'Kiss the cook' apron with a picture of Iron Man in a chef hat, courtesy of Tony, and spiderman pajamas, courtesy of Clint, matched with an unnecessarily tall chef hat with the Avengers 'A' on it, courtesy of Bucky, he was a sight to behold. Quickly moving to take a seat at the counter next to Natasha, who was sipping coffee and scrolling through the news on her phone, he grabbed at the plate of pancakes that was stacked high.
Successfully snagging one before Steve could turn and whack him with the spatula, he stuffed it into his mouth, cheeks puffed out in an effort to eat it all in one go.
"Hello маленький паук," Natasha greeted fondly, glancing up to ruffle his hair.
Her own now long, red hair was plaited intricately into a rather messy braid that was wound around to form a delicate bun. The hairstyle had obviously been dishevelled by sleep, but when Bucky, Peter, Wanda, Pepper and, on this rare occasion, Clint had done it up it had been gorgeous.
He grinned back, mouth too full to reply.
"Morning kiddo," Steve said cheerily, turning to place a huge plate of bacon next to the pancakes.
He grinned and waved in return.
He got up to make a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows that he added cold milk to so that it became, essentially, a cold drink.
It was something the Mother Hen #1, aka Bruce, Mother Hen #2, aka Steve, and even Pepper, hated and consistently told him not to do.
Steve glanced at the teenager, holding his Captain America mug in his hands, a small smile on his face, noticing the condensate that formed on the cup and rolled down onto the marble countertop.
"Peter." He said sternly, causing the boy to startle slightly. "We've had this talk before. Hot drinks in the morning. They're good for you. Cold tea is just gonna mess up your digestion, and cause all kind of problems you'll have to deal with," he reprimanded.
Peter nodded mutely, not taking his eyes off the super soldier as he took another sip, causing Steve to roll his eyes and turn back to the eggs he was scrambling.
Natasha snickered softly beside him, and reached over to ruffle his hair again.
"Good morning," Clint chirped suddenly, startling just about no one.
Peter glanced up towards the vent above his head to wave at Clint, who was dangling upside down.
"You should fall," Natasha said, not glancing up or otherwise acknowledging his presence.
"You should fall," he mocked childishly, moving his hand and body with each syllable, as if he were 5 years old.
Natasha rolled her eyes, a slight smirk lighting her features.
"See Nat. I'm set here. I won't f-."
As of he had just jinxed himself, without any sort of warning, Peter watched as Clint dropped to the ground like a 230 pound sack of potatoes that had landed on its head, missing the carpet by about half a meter.
"Ow," he mumbled softly, remaining sprawled face down on the ground, showing no intention of moving.
Peter struggled to retain his giggles as Steve barked out a loud laugh, informing the archer that he had deserved it.
"Yeah yeah. Shut up," he mumbled from the floor.
•-•
"Pete, could you go get Tony? I have a feeling that he's asleep in his lab again," Bruce asked the boy, his voice soft and tired sounding.
Peter nodded quickly, giving the doctor a smile. He had clearly been working with Tony, but had enough common sense to go to bed while it was still dark. He obviously didnt get nearly enough sleep however, gauging from how he struggled to keep his eyes open.
"I'll be right back. Don't touch my food," Peter said quickly, glancing accusingly at Clint and Sam.
Both men held their hands up in feign innocence, causing Peter to give them both another hard look.
Natasha grinned as she smacked Clint upside the head, like she already knew his evil thoughts.
Jumping out of his seat and racing down to Tony's lab, Peter squeezed himself out of the elevator without waiting for the doors to properly open.
Another thing that he got in trouble for, but it was now too late for the impatient boy to change.
"Tony," Peter called, knocking softly against the glass door as he entered.
Getting no response, he moved toward the larger than usual pile on the couch at the back.
That couch had been put there from when Peter would come up to the tower on weekends, and often pass out in the lab. Now that he had a room and 10 parents taking care of him, he hardly got the chance to use it anymore.
The Star Wars blanket was still there, but more often than not, it was piled high with random junk that couldn't be put away at the moment and didn't have a space on the counter.
Carefully moving towards the couch, Peter poked the pile, hearing an annoyed groan come from it.
The boy grinned, a mischevious plan forming in his mind.
"Tony," he said softly, earning himself an incoherent mumble.
Grinning wickedly, he took a step back until he was an arms length way, and prepared himself to run. Tony hated being woken up, and the way Peter was planning in doing it would only annoy him more.
He analyzed the pile, estimating where his mentor was located, and suddenly jabbed his index finger rather violently into the middle of his back.
Tony sprang up, the movement accompanied by a yell of shock and pain mixed together, along with various pieces of tech and machinery hitting the ground.
Peter spun on his heel as Tony's wide eyes landed on him, laughing loudly as he ran out of the room and back up to the rest of the team.
He settled down once again at the table, where Steve scrutinized him shrewdly.
"What?" He asked, taking a bite of a pancake and feigning innocence.
"You do know that we heard you laughing from the elevator right?" Wanda asked him, a smile lighting up her face.
Peter cocked his head, taking another bite.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't think that was me," he insisted, earning a considerably gentler smack to the back of his head than Clint had received from Natasha.
The elevator dinged softly, and the team listened in silence as slow, dragging footsteps made their was across the floor towards the table.
Tony rounded the corner, hunched over, looking still asleep. He reached blindly for the coffee pot, from which he took a sip directly, and dropped heavily into his seat at the table.
"Urgh- mornin-ugh. I would like that that kid," he drawled, pointing to the general area that Peter was in, "be sent back to somewhere where I'm not going to be asleep. Please and thank you."
Peter struggled to refrain from giggling, receiving a slightly disappointed look from Bruce, who quickly broke into a muffled laugh.
"Sure thing Tones. Right away," Rhodey said, patting Tony's back while grinning approvingly at Peter.
Rhodey was the only inconsistent member, in terms of he only sometimes stayed at the tower, claiming to be unable to remain sane in all the chaos.
"Okay children," Pepper interrupted from the head of the table. "Most of you mightn't know this, but some of us actually have jobs and schools to get to, and need to be there on time."
"Ah yes. Lets hurry so that little demon child goes away for the day," Tony said with fake bitterness, but still earning a smack from Pepper.
Originally, through stories that had been told to him, Peter knew that when the Avengers had first decided to move into the tower together, there had been a slight dispute between Tony and Steve as to who got to sit at the head of the table. Naturally, everyone else had told them that they could each sit at either end, but they had still argued over it. Finally, Pepper had simply decided that since they were too childish to decide on their own, neither of them would. So since then, she and Natasha sat at either end of the table, with Tony to her right, and Steve to Natasha's right, and everyone else found a space after that.
It was a story that Peter thought of as rather hilarious, its only downside being that he couldn't share it with anyone else, and now everytime they sat together, he had to fight the urge to tease Tony amd Steve.
Pepper glanced meaningfully at Peter, bringing him back to the present, then to the clock that was on the wall.
It read 6:52am. If he didn't hurry he was going to be late. And that was something he couldn't afford. With all of his recent absent days and late days, he would surely fail of he missed another.
•-•