Chapter Text
The sun is high in the sky and the air is heavy with warmth. The yard of the cabin is a sea of decorations. Banners hang from the porch, strings of fairy lights loop from tree to tree and the outside dining table has been added to so that it can seat a ridiculously vast amount of people and is covered with a pretty tablecloth and colourful napkins and plates. On the lake sits an impressive collection of inflatables which include a large flamingo and a rather happy looking shark.
Accompanying this is a chorus of voices that blend into a medley of laughter and playful yelling and childish shrieks. The splashing of water is prominent, as is the clinking of glasses and the scent of hot, delicious food. Scott and Cassie are leading the charge in an epic water pistol battle, sending the Barton children, Thor, Quill and Wanda fleeing into the trees where Tony knows Rocket and Groot are lying in wait. Pepper and Happy are stood by a fold out table, putting the finishing touches to a vast collection of salads, playfully shooing away a lurking Mays whenever she makes a try for a hunk of carrot or cucumber. Nat, Bruce and Sam are mixing various drinks, arguing over the correct amount of liquor for each one whilst Steve and Bucky go about constructing a safety area for the fireworks that will be set off that evening.
Even Strange is here, chatting with Wong and T’Challa, his ever-faithful cloak swaying lazily nearby.
The splashing from the lake grows louder as Harley and Morgan, who are sat together on a rubber ring, kick their legs furiously and move along at a ridiculously slow speed, leaving Nebula to watch them peacefully from the dock.
As family gatherings go, it’s pretty impressive.
Tony stands on the porch, leaning just by the steps, and watches the hubbub with a soft smile on his face. The scars on his right cheek glint silver in the sunlight and the gleam of his artificial arm is almost blinding to anyone who looks his way.
''Hey, Tin Can!'' Clint shouts from where he stands with Rhodey by the barbeque, waving a pair of tongs at him. ''You wanna turn the brightness down on that thing?''
Tony smirks and adjusts the angle of his arm, sending a flare of light right into Clint’s eyes. The man swears at him before laughing loudly. Rhodey looks over at him and shakes his head fondly, the smile on his face betraying any pretence of irritation. Tony chuckles as Dum-E reaches out to tentatively help Rhodey turn the vegetable and chicken kebabs that sit on the grill, trilling happily as Rhodey praises him like a beloved pet.
Another glance around alerts Tony to the missing presence of one very vital member of their strange little family and he’s about to inquire as to the whereabouts of said member when something lands beside him, giving him a bright grin.
Tony reaches over to ruffle Peter’s hair. ''Was wondering where you got to, kiddo.''
''Sorry. I was just getting something ready.''
At Tony’s intrigued look, Peter motions for Tony to follow him into the house. Inside is a bit of a disaster zone; discarded water toys and odd pairs of shoes linger near the doorway; mixing bowls and chopping boards sit on the kitchen counters and a box of unused decorations has toppled over, spilling its jazzy contents out onto the floor. Tony doesn’t give it much thought as Peter leads him to the couch and sits beside him. Tony leans back, watching with a patient smile on his face as the kid fidgets awkwardly.
''You okay there, bud?''
Tony regards him with fond bemusement. It’s been a while since Peter was this shy; though naturally awkward, Tony knows that it takes a lot these days to make the kid truly squirm.
''Either you got ants in your pants, Pete, or there’s something you wanna tell me.''
''Right, right,'' Peter says and gives his head a little shake, curls flopping with the movement. ''Well not tell so much as show, um…'' he takes a deep breath. ''So, it’s your birthday.''
''It is.''
''And I wanted to get you something…well, I know you’ve got all these awesome presents,'' he waves a hand to a table which is covered in beautifully wrapped gifts of all shapes and sizes, ''and I didn’t know what to get you so…Imadeyousomething.''
Tony has to rewind the words in his head before he can decipher what’s just been said. He nods and gives Peter an encouraging smile.
''Well don’t just sit there, kid. Give me the goods.''
''Yeah, okay, um…FRIDAY?''
''Yes, Peter?''
''Show the opening card from the video B-DAY please?''
''You got it.''
An image comes into life above the surface of the holographic table that sits in the middle of the room. It’s a picture of a film slate and on it, written in Peter’s messy scrawl, are the words:
'' – The Iron Dad Chronicles?'' Tony raises an eyebrow at the title as he reads it aloud.
An impish smile pulls at Peter’s face then, momentarily erasing the anxious grimace, and he leans away as Tony swats at him and mutters something about him being a 'disrespectful Spider-baby' before he settles back in, automatically leaning in close to Tony.
''It’s, erm, well, a bunch of stuff really, you’ll see. We all chose some things to include.''
''We?''
''Yeah. Me, Harley, Nebula and Morgan. I mean, it’s mainly, uh, me, but I thought they should have an input too.''
Tony’s heart does its usual funny little flutter at the thought of the four of them together.
''And when have these sneaky little discussions been taking place?''
Peter shrugs. ''Here and there. Usually when you take a nap on the couch on Saturday afternoons.''
Tony cuffs him round the head, actually catching the tips of his curls this time. ''Hey, those aren’t naps, kiddo. They’re a lifestyle choice. It’s Saturday today and look, see, me not napping.''
''Whatever you say, Tony.''
Tony playfully glares at him. ''I liked you better when you were a young, impressionable Spider-baby who called me Mister Stark all the time.''
Peter rolls his eyes. ''You know, FRIDAY chose some things too.''
''Oh, she did, huh?'' Tony places a hand to his chest. ''Honey, how could you sneak around behind my back like that?''
''I merely selected some of the most suitable options from the criteria that Peter provided,'' FRIDAY replies, managing to sound somewhat indignant. ''There was no sneaking.''
Tony smirks. ''Don’t worry, FRI. I trust you.''
''So you should.''
Tony raises a delighted eyebrow at the sass, looking all kinds of proud.
''So…do you wanna see?''
''Lay it on me, kid.'' Tony throws his arms out in acceptance before cosying down into the cushions, lowering his shoulder for the kid to lean into as he does the same.
''FRIDAY?''
''Yes, Peter?''
''You ready to go?''
''Ready and waiting.''
Peter gives Tony a wobbly smile and exhales heavily.
''Hit it!''