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Steve Rogers lives a double life.
Not that he’s complaining. He loves his life a lot, thank you very much. Even despite the ups, and downs, and the fact he was suspended in ice for nearly a century, Steve is a happy man. Lucky, even.
When he first came out to the general public, revealing that he is the Steve Rogers – the original Captain America from the 1940’s – he thought that would be the beginning and subsequent end of his doubled persona. But as most things in the 21st century have a tendency of doing, life raced ahead and dragged him along behind – willing and eager, but ultimately in the dark.
“Captain Marvel, heads up!” Iron Man shouts over the comms, as he zooms into the sky, holding some slimy green creature that had emerged from the bowels of the Earth (because isn’t fighting Mole Man always so lovely?) He launches the being further into the air, and Carol swoops in to blast it.
“Iron Man focus on aerial control,” Steve barks. He holds his ear piece out of habit alone, and spins around to see what the others are doing. “Spider-Man, I want you at Thor’s six. Wasp, keep these things from getting down Fifth Avenue. She-Hulk come with me – we’re going after Mole Man.”
The team effortlessly fills their roles. They handle the mini-Manhattan invasion with relative ease, and S.H.I.E.L.D has Mole Man in their custody by the time the sun is just beginning to set off the horizon. Steve smiles at his team as they start filing into the Helicarrier.
“Good work, team.” He says as they file into a long conference room and take their usual places. Carol sits at the head - a force-of-habit since her days leading the team that Steve, nor T’Challa (who was currently doing some administrative work at the U.N. building downtown) doesn’t bother correcting – and Iron Man plops down beside her with a soft whir of his armor.
“I personally liked the part where Cap got slimed in the face.” He says. Steve chuckles to himself while the others laugh along at his expense.
“Did Spider-Man disappear again?” Steve asks as he takes his own seat. Natasha, who was on recon-duty, nods, “You know Spidey. Not really an Avenging kind of guy.”
“I wanted to compliment him on his new web-formula. I think he managed to somehow make it even stickier.” Iron Man says with what Steve imagines is an impressed nod.
“Alright let’s get this over with, I got a flerken to feed.” Carol says through a yawn. And with that the team quiets down to listen as Steve relays the battle they had just participated in. Debriefs are always pretty dull – save for Iron Man and Captain Marvel’s little quips, and Thor and Jen’s boisterous laughter at such.
They all part an hour later. Iron Man tips his fingers in a mock salute towards Cap who returns the gesture. Carol offers to give Steve a lift back home which he politely declines. Jen loops arms with Jan and the two walk out talking animatedly about some new movie they’re planning on seeing and oh Jess ‘you just have to come! Carol you too!’
Steve changes into civilian clothes and starts making his way home.
Like some weird paradox, just a few hours ago he was tossing around his bright and mighty shield - stopping slimy creatures that emerged from the sewer in a fashion Tony and Peter would call “teenage-mutant-ninja-turtle-esque” (despite Steve not knowing what that means). Thirty minutes ago, he was sitting in a long conference room with Earth’s mightiest heroes, discussing battle strategies and chuckling at the inside jokes they’ve all cultivated over the years they’ve been a team.
Now, he walks into the tall sleek and aggressively modern Stark tower. He takes the elevator up… And up…. And up. The elevator doors chime open, and Steve is greeted by the smell of fresh pizza from their favorite pizzaria down the block. Music is wafting in from the kitchen, along with the soft sound of his family’s bickering.
“-but Cyclops could totally kick Superman’s ass, dad.” Peter says through a mouthful of pizza. Tony is standing on the other side of their kitchen island, looking tired – as usual – but smiling all the same, “Pete, you’re delusional. That’s like saying Qui-Gon stood a chance against Darth Maul-”
“Oh god, not this fight again.” Steve sighs, making himself known. Peter laughs around his food, and Tony smirks and says, “Well, well, well. Look Peter, it’s our star-spangled hero.”
Steve rolls his eyes and slips a hand around Tony’s waist. Presses a kiss to his temple before picking the half-eaten slice of pizza off his husband’s plate to take a bite.
And in case he forgot, he remembers again how polarized his life is. Because here he is now, with his arm secure around his husband’s waist, looking across at the boy they raised since he was 2 – their son.
“I watched on the news,” Tony says while shooting Steve a disgruntled frown once Steve returns Tony’s food to his own plate, “Carol’s new suit looks great, but I wanted to talk to her about the aerodynamics of her boots. Also her color scheme. It’s not that I think she’s completely copying Iron Man with the red and gold but she’s completely copying Iron Man–”
“Oh please,” Peter laughs, “all these superheroes cheat off each other! Deadpool stole from Daredevil, the Punisher looks weirdly similar to Crossbones. And besides - like you haven’t copied Dr. Strange’s facial hair.”
Steve stifles a chuckle fast, before Tony’s ensuing anger can turn on him, as well. “How dare you–” is all Steve hears before he slips out of the room to take a much needed shower. Their conversation drifts off into the background like a calming, melodic lull.
His life may be crazy - what with doubling as a loving husband and father, and an ageless American symbol – but he remembers, with utmost happiness how lucky he is.
,,
Tony Stark lives a double life.
“Sir, a call from young Sir.” FRIDAY says just as Tony reaches Asgard. Iron Man steps foot in the city and waves a greeting at Frigga who starts making her way to meet him. Tony holds up a hand in pause, and says to Jarvis,
“Patch him through.”
There’s a brief pause and then: “Hey dad, don’t be mad, but I left my homework at home and Ireallyreallyreallyneeditformynextclassdadplease–”
“Peter you know I can’t understand you when you start talking that fast,” Tony sighs and looks around. How exactly is he supposed to explain to his 15 year-old, ‘hey bud, sorry I can’t make it! I’m actually in another realm in a giant metal tin-can that I’ve been pretending is piloted by an anonymous bodyguard your whole life!’
“Sorry,” Peter amends before taking a deep breath and whispering, “I’m just not allowed to be on my phone in the hallway and the bell is about to ring so I just need it asap, dad. This is the teacher that already doesn’t like me because he thinks I steal chemicals from the science lab but why the heck would I do that! Right? You believe me, right dad? Because I don’t steal chemicals I would have no use for them-”
“Peter just – hold on I’ll have Happy drop it off. Is it in your room?” Tony waves awkwardly at Odin who’s now standing beside his wife looking confused. Iron Man lifts his hand again in what he hopes is an apologetic ‘hold on, please’.
“Okay, thanks dad–”
“And you need to stop being so forgetful, Peter. How many bookbags have I bought for you in the past month alone? I mean what kid loses an entire bookbag--”
Tony hears the pitchy sound of a bell on the other end of the line and Peter rushes through a goodbye, fifty more thank-yous, apologies, and then hangs up. Tony sighs and dials Happy’s number.
Happy has to recruit Pepper to help find the missing chemistry homework, but eventually they find it shoved into one of Peter’s desk drawers. Tony thanks his loyal bodyguard (and ⅓ of all the people who know about his secret side job. The other two being Pepper and Rhodey, of coarse) and then finally meets the Asgardians who are ever-understanding about his hold up.
,,
Falling in love with Steve was frustratingly easy. As soon as Tony realized how tropey, and Nicholas-Sparks-y their first meeting was, he kind of had a hard time believing there weren’t some greater forces at play here. Like, who knows. Maybe Moon Dragon isn’t just some stoner who chills out on a distant Jupiter moon with her super strength and sick outfit. Maybe her hoaxy magic is actually… Legit.
Tony shudders. God this is what being married to Steve Rogers does to a man, huh? Starts to make him question the very laws of science.
Then again, it was hard to not question a few big-picture things when you’re looking at the cold unmoving face of Steve Rogers who, according to every whirring machine in the room, is alive. A warm heart beats like a tired metronome against a solid chest. There’s someone in there, a legend, a hero, an icon. Howard missed this moment by just a few years and oh, how Tony felt a sickening level of grieved satisfaction at that.
But the moment for ‘sticking-it-to-his-dead-old-man’ passed in a whirlwind of guilt and excitement. Instead, Tony leaned forward and looked down at the fluttering eyelids of America’s first superhero. And then, Steve opened his eyes, and it sort of felt like they never left Tony’s from that moment on.
It had been stressful, the first few months. Communicating with Steve was like – pun intended – talking to a block of ice. He gave Tony the cold shoulder, and dismissed everything around him. SHIELD psychologists were worried he was a threat to others, if the demolished punching bags littering their gym was anything to go by.
But Tony didn’t think so. Tony thought if anything, he was a threat to himself. Because while timid agents saw sand spilling out of heavy leather bags like blood across gym mats, Tony saw the black and blue of Steve’s knuckles.
In the three months since Steve defrosted, the esteemed Nick Fury and Maria Hill came up with the Avengers initiative and suddenly heroes were coming out of the woodwork. These heroes from their own areas, their own eras, coming forward to stand behind a symbol like: The Avengers. It had a nice ring to it. Only problem: the famed leader of these ‘Avengers’ was an emotionally unstable microwaved capsicle.
So that’s why, after three months of getting nowhere with Steve, Tony decided to shoot his shot and practically dragged him to the roof of Stark Tower. When they were higher than the highest building in Manhattan, Tony lead Steve up the Sentry’s long-since abandoned watchtower and they were once again higher.
Admittedly, Steve looked a little intimidated. The second the feeling of fear registered with him, his jaw set and he glared at Tony like the man had walked him into a trap. Tony smirked, looked out at the city and asked, “Back in your era, you ever get this view of the city?”
Steve shakes his head, “Only time I was up this high I was in a plane.”
Tony nods. He takes a seat on the edge of the Watchtower, and Steve looks like he wants to reach out for Tony – make sure he doesn’t fall – but he resists the urge when Tony sits without fanfare. His legs dangle over the edge of the sprawling city.
“See how small we are compared to it?” Tony asks. Steve, who had sat beside Tony nods. Slow and tentative, as if he himself was the spooked animal approaching a confident human.
“Back in the 40’s, if you had climbed up to the tallest building and done this - you would’ve felt exactly the same. Small. Small, and insignificant amongst this great, sweaty, gridlock system of stars right here on our own surface.”
Steve is looking at Tony now, curiously. Tony goes on, “Sure, pretty much everything has changed here, Steve. But this is New York City. This city is younger than it is old, and it’s been around longer than you have. You would’ve felt small looking at it back in the 40’s, the same way you feel small looking at it now. And it’s not about trying to conquer that - y’know you’re not trying to take your little pebble and beat the river into submission until you magically make a mountain. You’re trying to live… In it.” Tony looks over at Steve who’s watching him closely, expressionless. “The world isn’t working against you, Steve. There are people who come to this city, who are the same age as me who feel lost. Probably, more lost than you. Just stop trying to fight it Steve.”
He looked away because the eye contact was a little much. He was trying to have a heart to heart with a national fucking icon and it really wasn’t helping he had those baby-blues boring into him. Tony clears his throat after an amount of time and says,
“My best friend once told me, the world always thinks it needs a sledgehammer to fix its problems, but sometimes what it really needs is a scalpel. Or… Something like that, I dunno. She’s smart every now and then. Real pain in the ass, and a terrible poker player but, I guess she has her pearls of wisdom whenever she feels like cracking her fortune cookie-”
Steve chuckles beside him. A low rumble and says, “I cannot wait to tell Carol you said she was bad at poker.”
Tony squawks and uncaring of the long fall below them, he whacks Steve shoulder and says, affronted, “I never said such things. I was referring to Rhodey. Not Carol. There will be no mention of Carol and poker after this conversation. Actually, what are we even doing? I fucking hate heights.”
Steve laughs even harder. So hard he has to hold his stomach and tip his head back while he says through gasping breaths, “Me too, Tony. Next time you want to have a heart-to-heart please bring one of the flying Avengers as back up?”
They stayed there and laughed like that. Giddy, nervous, and strangely excited for whatever was to come.
Which was… A lot.
Steve wasn’t clingy per-say but… Okay he was fucking clingy. Apparently something snapped in his head and his once stony determination to reject all things new and shiny was turned on its head. He was curious – wonderfully so – except it seemed like the only person who could answer his questions was Tony (even questions like, ‘so what exactly does control-alt-delete do?’ were apparently too advanced for anyone but a Stark.)
So they bonded. They started laughing more around each other and generally enjoying each other’s company. And when the Avengers were formally introduced to one another, and the elite chrome Iron Man stalked in, Tony kind of expected things to be exactly how they had been.
All it took was one look at Steve’s formal nod and tight-lipped grin and he knew – oh right – this is Avengers business. And this isn’t Tony Stark anymore, the philandering billionaire, he was Iron Man. The hero. It didn’t take Tony much to fall into that role around a team of super-people.
It was easier to work together than Tony admittedly thought it would. Carol (going by Ms. Marvel at the time) was a bit reckless in her earlier years, and Wolverine refused to listen to anyone but her – so, as anyone could imagine, that duo made everyone want to pull their hair out. Falcon joined a few weeks later, and him and Steve hit it off almost instantly. Tony thinks Falcon reminded Steve of his former partner, Bucky Barnes. Whatever it was, Tony was happy to have another areal Avenger (and he wasn’t jealous of Cap and Sam, shut the fuck up Rhodey).
The more jobs they worked together the more Steve warmed up to Iron Man. Asked him questions about his boss, about his life outside the suit. He was always respectful of Iron Man’s secret identity and Tony wouldn’t expect any less from him.
The one and only time Tony felt uncomfortable hiding himself around Steve was the one time, after a successful recon mission against Dr. Doom (which ended with Victor inviting them inside for dinner because Doom doesn’t understand how to be a normal fucking super-villain) Steve had gently touched Iron Man’s elbow. It was a familiar gesture that had Iron Man spinning towards him - Tony smiling under his faceplate.
“Hey, Shellhead,” Steve said softly. The others were busy mingling about the quinjet. Iron Man nodded for Steve to continue and he did, “I know this is probably super unprofessional but… I figure we’re all kinda friends at this point right?”
“Yeah, and?” Iron Man asked.
Steve licks his lips and, “Do you know if your boss–if Tony is… If he’s going with anyone right now? Y’know like uh… Maybe a fella or a lady or-”
“Oh my god.” It just came out of him. Steve looked startled but quickly recovered and put back on his mask of trained indifference. An expression that reminded Tony of the soft whir of his own faceplate when it slips over his face.
Iron Man quickly schooled himself and informed him, no, Iron Man didn’t knowof anyone Tony Stark was currently seeing.
Well, things kind of went from there.
“Sir, Captain Rogers is calling.” FRIDAY says in his earpiece, snapping Tony back to the present. Lowkey dissociation while sitting at some mind-rottingly dull meeting about stocks and numbers and Tony your company is doing poorly this quarter you have to carblah blah.
“Oh, excuse me gentlepeople.” Tony says loudly. He startles half the room, because he’s pretty sure they all forgot he was there. He could’ve just sent one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s LMD’s and all his international exec’s would’ve had a royal time yelling at it just the same as they are now. “But duty calls.” He says before standing, tugging his phone out of his trouser pockets and slipping out of the room.
“Hey sweetheart, are you still in London?” Steve asks softly.
“Well y’know Steve, it’s not exactly a place where I can just hop on the next train uptown and get home in five minutes, so yes. Since the last I texted you I’m still–”
“Okay, okay,” Steve says with an exasperated huff on the other end – getting all indignant and prideful, as he does every time Tony pokes fun at him, “Just don’t forget to call when you’re on the plane back. Also, if you could let me know when Iron Man will be back in Manhattan, that’d be great.”
Tony physically winced on his end. He hates keeping this from Steve; this massive, potentially-marriage-ending lie from him, but he’s dug in his heels to deep to step out and come clean now. He wants to. More than anything he wants to tell Steve the truth after all these years but he can’t for… Well one reason in particular, and Tony shudders at the memory, and the phantom ache in his chest from That day.
“You bet.” Tony says and hopes Steve won’t read into the fact his voice is straining.
“See you when you get home,” Steve says, sounding chipper as ever. Tony listens closely and hears Peter shouting somewhere in the distant background, obviously just coming home from school, “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Tony hangs up, and looks down at his screen for a long second, debating whether this whole double-life thing was worth it (as he always does when he has to lie to Steve).
,,
Peter Parker lives a double life.
(Technically, that’s Peter Stark-Rogers but since his dads realized the dangers of having Peter go about his daily life with the last names of two of the most influential, and largely controversial, people on the planet, they thought it best that he use his middle name as his last name until he graduates high school.)
“Hey! Hey!” Peter screams (and no his voice doesn’t crack, he’s already gone through puberty, thank you very much.) “Drop that lady’s purse you jerk! Who even steals purses anymore, this isn’t a cartoon from the 60’s! And-”
Spider-Man webs the back of the bandits head. The man staggers and falls on his ass as Spidey flips over him, retrieving the stolen purse with a web from his free hand, “you’re not dressed like the hamburglar!”
“Would you hurry up!” The old woman, who owns the purse Spider-Man is currently jogging back to her, shouts with a wilted voice, “I missed my damn bus and I’m already 30 minutes late to Bingo!”
Peter, knowing full-well he just saved this woman’s bag replies with a hurried, “Sorry, sorry, he was faster than I thought-”
“Humph…” The woman groans while snatching the bag out of his hands. She turns and hurries off with her cane tapping away on the pavement.
“A-And…. You’re welcome!” Okay, fine, he’ll admit his voice cracks then but it’s only because he was raised by Captain freaking America and being kind to a little old ladies was practically ingrained in his DNA. And that part of him that wanted to snark a bit (because they’re all New Yorkers after all, no matter the age. Everyone here can handle some attitude) because he was also raised by Tony Stark, took a backseat because sure, Peter would probably annoyed if he was late to a Bingo game because of some asshole in a ski-mask.
The phone in his back pocket starts to jingle, and Peter takes a few un-graceful moments to fish it out of his skin-tight suit to find it’s Ned.
“Hey man,” Peter says while hurrying into the closest alleyway he could find, “You know it’s my Spidey-time, I’m busy–”
“Dude!” Ned sounds frantic, and Peter’s back instantly straightens, “We have a big problem. Your Uncle Sam is here to pick you up. Something about your dad wanting to take you to see the new Godzilla or something–”
“What!” Peter half-shouts in the deserted alley. Using only his shoulder to keep his phone at his ear, he flings himself up the side of the building he was beside; “What the hell do you mean my Uncle Sam is there!”
Ned leans away from his phone and shouts to someone clearly out of his room, “Just a sec Mr. Falcon, sir! We-uh… We just have to get all the pieces back in the box!”
“Oh c’mon man, don’t tell my Uncle Sam we’re playing with Legos,” Peter grumbles as he continues swinging down Woodhaven Boulevard, “he’ll never let me live that down–”
“There are bigger problems here, Peter!” Ned is back to hissing, “I don’t understand why your dad didn’t just text you to take the train–”
“You know my dad still doesn’t understand how to work the Stark Phone 10! He doesn’t understand how to get to certain apps without a home button! If he can’t just say ‘Hey Jarvis, call Peter on my phone for me’ it won’t happen and then we’re in situations like this!”
“Well then why didn’t he call you?”
“Because he was probably out with Sam when they both came up with this awful, ridiculous, incredibly thoughtful, fun, nice plan to take me to see Godzilla–damnit!” Peter gets a faceful of pigeon just as he makes it to Ned’s apartment complex. He webs up the sides, sprinting as fast as his legs will take him up to Ned’s 15th floor bedroom window. ‘
“Well then why didn’t your Uncle Sam call you?”
“Because Uncle Sam loves surprises and he knew I definitely wasn’t doing anything other than building Legos, made it!” He lurches open Ned’s bedroom window and flings himself inside just as he hears Sam shout from outside the door,
“Hey if you guys are doing anything… Uh… Inappropriate or what not… Y’know I get it! Growing boys and all, and hey! I think you two make a lovely couple-erm. I just-uh… You can say that so I can stop standing out here-” Peter flings open the door, breathless but back in his normal clothes. The Lego Death Star lays half-assembled behind him.
“I’m not dating Ned.” He says in a squeak. Ned, behind him, gives Sam a small wave and says, “I actually have a crush on this girl right now, but I don’t think she likes me back… And I think Peter’s been trying to get up the nerve to ask out M.J. but he hasn’t–”
Peter turns his head to Ned and gives him one (unperfected) Stark look, and his best friend shuts up. Thankfully, Sam is too busy chuckling to say anything more. He just claps Peter on the shoulder and motions for the door.
,,
“Iron Man, up ahead!” Cap screams before sending his shield flying towards what must be the 600th doombot in just under thirty minutes. How Victor manages to reproduce these little metal things at such a startling rate, Steve will never understand. All he knows is, as New York invasions go, Victor holds the award for most predictable and generally most manageable. Maybe he just does this to get out of Latveria for a bit, Steve wonders. Or he does this as an excuse to travel to New York to hit on Tony which, Steve will decidedly not think about, as he slams another three robots with a touch more vigor.
Iron Man uses his repulsors to attack another few bots, just as a thin red figure does a flip through the air – spraying his webs in his wake at the army of bots. “Thanks, Spidey.” Iron Man says.
Spider-Man remains fairly quiet, save for his little yelps and jabs at the unresponsive robots surrounding him. She-Hulk continues smashing with Captain Marvel covering her six – a duo powerful enough to clear the entire island of Manhattan if they put their mind to it – and Jan was flitting around with Thor, trying to cover aerial defense while Iron Man kept low with Steve.
“Hey Shellhead,” Steve says over the commotion, “last you checked, Tony and Peter are in the penthouse, right?” He asks. He knows he’s not supposed to use the comms for personal discussions (as he’s been the one to snap and reprimand his own team for doing. But in his defense, absolutely no one wants to hear Clint hyper-criticise every writing choice in Game of Thrones, especially not when they’re in the middle of a battle), but he has to be sure. All the buildings in Hell’s Kitchen have already been evacuated, and it looks like the NYPD is expanding their perimeter to Midtown as well. Peter is out of school by now, and Tony had flown back from London just a few hours ago, so they should be there in their fortress in the sky. A big glass tower forged with iron, as Tony likes to say.
“Uh. Yeah.” Iron Man says after a beat. After years of companionship, Steve likes to think he knows his team mate well enough to realize he sounds a bit off. Then again, Iron Man always sounds almost tentative when talking about his boss which is weird, but Steve doesn’t have the mental capacity to fret on that right now. He has 5,000 more bots about to flood Manhattan and T’Challa hasn’t even arrived yet with the Agents of Wakanda.
“Alright, I need Captain Marvel going as far west as the Hudson,” Steve barks into his earpiece, “Thor I want you heading up north – you and Wasp cover all you can from here to Harlem; try to pick up Cage and Rand on your way. Iron Man, you’ll–”
Just then, the ground shook with the sound of a blast. The sky was momentarily alight with yellow flames and debris, before heady smoke smothered the sky. It must’ve been one of Doom’s floating fortresses crashing into a building, but which–
“Oh my god.” Iron Man’s tinny voice whispers over the comms. The smoke is just beginning to part, giving Steve a perfect view of Stark Tower; which stood engulfed in orange flames.
No. There’s simply no way. This isn’t happening. This just is not happening.
Iron Man is gone before Steve can even blink; shooting into the sky like a missile and curving into the thick black smoke without hesitation. Spider-Man is suddenly swinging towards the tower as well. Steve is left on the ground. His mouth agape. His entire world suffocating in the ether of ashy black clouds.
“I… I need to.” he starts saying, waving his hand in the direction of the building. I need to get up there. I need to save them. They must have escaped they simply must have. “Carol!” Steve barks,. His voice comes back to him with a desperation he hasn’t felt since he was taken from the ice. His first words were for Bucky, back then. Calling out to Bucky as he flew up into the sky; engulfed in fire before Steve even touched the murky water below.
“Cap there’s… There’s nothing you can do!” Carol says over the comms. She sounds hollow. Her voice more robotic than Iron Man’s. It makes Steve’s blood run hot.
“Carol! That’s an order!”
On any other day Carol would bite back saying something along the lines of, ‘technically I outrank you, Army boy!’ But not today. Today she silently swoops down and collects him from his under arms. She flies fast and hard – breaking through the smoke and debris effortlessly. Steve thinks for a hysterical moment, Carol has the same fear he does. Because Peter and Tony are in here somewhere. Oh god, they’re in here somewhere–
“I’ll check the bottom floors,” Carol says when she deposits him in the penthouse. The windows had been blown apart, and the entire floor is a wasteland of broken furniture and fire. “When you need to get out, just let me know and jump. I’ll catch you.” She doesn’t even spare him a second glance before flying out again. Steve looks down at his shield. Tightens the straps on his arms.
“Peter! Tony!”
The whir of Iron Man’s armor comes from the dilapidated hallway. His electronic voice sounds broken when he says, “I can’t find him. I can’t find Peter–”
“What about Tony?” Steve asks, because maybe they’re together somewhere. Maybe they’re okay. Maybe they’re in the lobby. Maybe this is fine.
“I…” Iron Man begins, just as another figure comes flying in through the window. Spider-Man lands on his feet and cries; “Tony!” like his life depends on it. He doesn’t even spare a glance towards Cap and Iron Man, just starts moving in clumsy desperation through the apartment.
“Young man!” Steve shouts, “Get out of here now!”
“Your suit doesn’t have an advanced enough ventilation system for you to be taking in this much smoke!” Iron Man says.
But Spider-Man isn’t listening. He continues his path through the penthouse, calling for Tony and ignoring the two resident Avengers trying to badger him into standing down. He’s going to get himself killed, Steve thinks and lurches forward to yank at Spider-Man’s bicep. His mind is collapsing in on itself, his whole world spiraling into hellfire as no one answers his calls for his family, and Carol remains silent on the comms. So instead he yells at Spider-Man, “You have to go.”
“I’m not leaving till I find dad!”
,,
“What.” Tony gasps. Just as Steve’s entire face drops into pale recognition.
I fucking knew his voice sounded familiar.
“I mean-uh…” Spider-Man backtracks. His white eyes go wide, making him look like some adolescent cartoon character, “I mean y’know. Tony Stark is like. The dad, right? He’s just so dad-ish. I meant like. Oh man! Gotta find my cool dad who’s not my real dad just a cool guy who acts like a dad! You know what I mean, right Cap?”
“Peter?” Steve hisses, and oh he sounds pissed. Pissed like “You taught our son how to do what with a blowtorch?” pissed.
“Who’s Peter!” Peter says. He sounds like he’ll say more when Steve cuts him off,
“I can’t focus on this right now. You need to get out and I need to find Tony–your father. So please go before lose both of you.” His voice breaks at the end. The hard determination faltering into a plea.
“About that…” Iron Man says slowly. Steve and Peter both look up at him. Tony walks forward, and at the same time he reaches Peter and tugs off his Spider-Man mask – which Peter, smart kid, didn’t put up a fight against – he opens his own faceplate.
“Dad!” Peter shouts gleefully. Tony swallows and looks to Steve who is just gawking at them both. Which, okay, sure. Probably a weird sight. His husband standing in a flying suit of armor, the face of the faceless Avenger he’s been fighting beside for years. And his son, donned in a red spandex spider costume, shooting webs out of his wrists and climbing on walls and oh God–
“Carol, I need back up!” Tony shouts over the comms, catching Steve just as his knees give out. “Steve fainted and… Hi, It’s Tony. Yes, I’m Iron Man.”
,,
That day was about three years ago. Tony hadn’t had enough time to slip off and don the armor, and was caught in the crossfire of some big-bad-guy trying to make his big-bad-guy stance against Manhattan. He didn’t have time to be Iron Man, he could only be Tony. And Tony came with a lot of baggage – i.e., one super-soldier who was super-distracted by trying to keep his husband safe, rather than himself.
Steve had gotten hurt. Bad. All because he looked away at the wrong moment. Looked away to make sure Tony was okay. Steve never did that for Iron Man. Because Iron Man is an Avenger. So Tony vowed from that day on, Steve can never know. For his own safety.
“THAT’S WHY YOU DIDN’T TELL ME!” The heart monitor strapped to Steve’s chest starts buzzing incessantly. A nurse comes bustling in but quickly turns right back around seeing Tony’s frantic gesticulations in her direction.
“Steve, c’mon, you know you would’ve been all over-protective and–”
“You don’t get to make that decision for me, Tony!” Steve laughs humorlessly back, “And I thought you’d know me well enough to know I trust you, goddamnit! I trust Iron Man! I trust you! Oh my god, oh my god.”
From the other side of the room, slouched in a plastic hospital chair, Peter squeaks, “I’d just like to say–”
“Shut up!” Both men shout back in unison. Tony glares over at his son, who cowers further into his chair.
“You, mister, are not allowed to leave your bedroom for… Weeks!”
“Months!” Steve chimes in.
“Years!”
“Forever!”
“Guys!” Peter whimpers, “I know you’re mad but… We all screwed up, alright? Pops screwed up when he let his concern over his family get the better of him in a fight. Dad screwed up by not trusting us enough to come out with the truth. And I screwed up because I was too scared you’d both try to take this away from me.”
“You’re a kid.” Steve says. His jaw clenched tight and his eyebrows drawn together in an expression that made him look years older.
Peter huffs, “Well, so were you when you joined the army.”
“That was different.”
“No it wasn’t!” Peter says. His voice cracks but he looks determined now. Angry, even, and Tony is reminded with a fierce sort of fondness how much this kid has taken from both of them, “I was given these… Abilities. Just like how you were given the serum, and dad made the suit. We got these things, and we use them. And when we can do the things we can do, and the bad things happen… The bad things happen because of us.” He looks at the two of them with his mouth drawn in a hard line, “So… Fine. Ground me or whatever. I’ll find a way to sneak out. Because you’re not taking this away from me. Sure you can take the stupid suit, but I am Spider-Man.”
The room was silent, save for Steve’s heart monitor chirping away. Tony runs his hands together slowly, looking down at his wedding band and hoping – praying – he didn’t lose this. Because Peter is right. None of them are stopping what they do; but Tony can’t imagine what’ll come next if that means the family has to suffer for what the job means.
“Can you….” Steve says slowly. As if tasting the words and deciding how he feels about them. His face scrunches up in what looks like disgust – a face he only makes when Tony tries to force him to eat raw fish, “Do you… Lay eggsor?”
“No!” Peter cries; his eyes going impossibly wide. “I-no I do not! Dad stop laughing-I don’t lay eggs the webs don’t even come out of my real hands it’s a web shooter–Dad stop laughing–”
,,
It was hard for a while. Steve slept in the spare room for a week or two, and gave Tony a bit of the cold shoulder which, okay was deserved. Peter wasn’t allowed to go to Ned’s house, and had to sit through Steve’s lectures about ‘safety’ and ‘responsibility’ and whatever the fuck else.
But then things became a new normal. For instance, Peter trains with Captain America now, and he won’t even try to pretend that hasn’t helped him in the field significantly.
He gets gadgets and upgrades from Tony Stark, who now has a whole section of his lab dedicated to ‘Spider-Toys for my Spider-Son’ equipped with everything from Spider-Guns, to Spider-Socks, to Spider-Shark-Repellant.
They start eating family dinners again. Steve moves back into Tony’s room. Peter starts getting texts from Tony like ‘Look out - just got word a robber on 23rd st. Stay safe, Spidey!’ Steve asks Jarvis to set his new ringtone to that cheesy – albeit catchy – Spider-Man theme song the radio started playing.
“On your left, Spidey!” Cap shouts, breaking Peter out of his reverie. The shield goes soaring past him, and Spider-Man has a moment to leap out of the way before the shield comes soaring back in his direction to its rightful owner.
“Private comms, please FRIDAY,” Tony asks, while blasting a few more A.I.M. agents that have started circling She-Hulk. “Excuse me, Steve, but did you nearly just decapitate our son with that frisbee or yours?”
“I got out of the way!” Peter definitely doesn’t whine.
“Yeah, he got out of the way!” Steve chides as he punches through a few more agents.
“Whatever you both say… By the way, whose turn was it to get groceries? Because I distinctly remember looking in the fridge and noticing a startling – horrifying, really – lack of seltzer and I really just. I feel like I’m being attacked? Personally attacked. And by my own family–”
“Dad the box was too heavy,” Peter says, as he swings up to a traffic light to shake off a tail of agents, “and I already had to carry up like 50 pounds worth of food for Thor and Jen alone–”
“Are you kidding me? You can lift cars, Peter, and you couldn’t get your own father seltzer? One box of seltzer?”
Steve coughs abruptly and says, “The comms are supposed to be clear–”
“You told him to just skimp on the seltzer, didn’t you.” Tony huffs, “I swear to god I buy Peter one Yankees jersey and suddenly I’m the devil–”
“They’re a shitty team who buys their wins!”
“You watch your goddamn mouth, Rogers–”
“I’m a Mets fan anyways!”
“Oh hush, Peter.”
“Can I disown you?”
So none of them live double lives anymore. But doesn’t the saying go that one is better than two, anyway?