Work Text:
Tony takes another sip of his peanut butter shake and leans back in the rolling chair, trying not to roll away. He stretches his arms up over his head and listens to his bones crack, and glances down at the time. It’s been thirty minutes since he checked in on Peter and Morgan, which is just enough to make him anxious. Not that he doesn’t trust the kid, he does—but Morgan is seven months old, and babies are scary. He’s surprised Peter even said it was okay to leave him alone with Morgan. Tony was thinking about housing them both in here, in the lab with him, but he still needs to reinforce the actual bubble baby area he was creating before she ripped down one of the walls last weekend.
Babies are scary.
He’s just about caught up with everything he was backed up on, save for the upgraded suit he’s gonna give to Peter next week for his Spidey anniversary. He cracks his knuckles, tries to believe that he’s not overbearing, not a ridiculous, sap of a man, but all of that goes in the trash when he wheels himself away from the workstation and over to the projection screen.
“Friday,” Tony says. “Show me the babies, please.”
“Of course, boss.”
Tony clears his throat, tapping his fingers against his knee, glad there’s no one around to hear him. The nursery camera comes up, and—it’s empty. Her bright yellow walls, her giant Spider-Man plush, the netting full of bears, everything is intact, but Peter and Morgan are—missing.
Tony tries to stop himself from having a heart attack.
“Uh, Friday, don’t tell me I need to do an all call—where are the kids, huh? Peter, Morgan? Heard of ‘em?”
Friday changes the angle, and now Tony can see them. They’re sitting on the floor by the long window, and Tony lets out a heavy breath, sinking down into his chair.
“Jesus, coulda started there,” Tony says, shaking his head.
“I always start with the main view, boss.”
“Uh huh, yeah, sure,” Tony says, rolling a little closer. He can see Peter is holding Morgan up under her arms, making her stand, and she’s smiling that silly gummy smile at him. “Audio, please, if you would be so kind.”
“Absolutely.”
The audio cuts in.
“Macho, macho man,” Peter sings, bouncing Morgan back and forth. “I want to be...a macho man—macho macho man—macho man!—I want to be—”
Morgan giggles, loud and excited, and Peter laughs too, swooping in and planting a kiss on her forehead. She shrieks with happiness then, and Peter blows a raspberry into her chunky little arm.
“But you’re not a macho man, are you?” Peter asks, voice high as he continues to bounce her back and forth, like she’s dancing. “No. No, you’re a macho lady! But that doesn’t sound as good, when I sing it. You like the m’s, you like that alliteration!” He sits her on his knee, holding her against his side, and she reaches up, tugging at the collar of his shirt. She babbles at him, something in her nonsensical baby language, and Peter nods.
Tony quickly switches the angle so he can see their faces, clearing his throat again. And again, because it’s getting a little tight.
“Oh yeah?” Peter asks. “No way. No way, I don’t believe you.”
Morgan babbles back, stretching up to grasp at Peter’s hair.
“That’s crazy! He did what?”
“Friday,” Tony says, his voice coming out in an embarrassing croak. “Take a burst of photos and send the ten best to May, please. Priority one.”
“Yes boss.”
Tony wipes at his eyes, and watches as Peter lifts Morgan again and gets to his feet. He holds her tight and secure, and she giggles, grinning. He starts dancing back and forth himself, tickling her side. She squeals with delight.
“I’ve got little pumpkin princess—and yes, I made up this song—”
“Oh my God,” Tony laughs, and shit, he’s actually crying. “Fri, I hope you’re recording. What do I pay you for?”
“I’ve been recording, Boss.”
“Thank you for withholding a quip about a raise, I appreciate it,” Tony says, swiping away a tear. “This is a very emotional time.”
“Of course.”
Peter leans in, kissing Morgan on the forehead again. She giggles, leaning down and burying her face in his shoulder. “Aww, are we tired?” Peter asks, rubbing her back. “Too much action. Too much macho man.”
She laughs again, her little fist twisting in his shirt.
Tony’s phone starts buzzing, and he presses the speakerphone button. Pepper’s voice fills up the room.
“Oh my God, are you seeing this?” she asks. “This is so sweet, I can’t deal with it. I’m coming home, I have some hugs I need to distribute.”
“Yeah, I’ve been—”
“Oh, Tony, you’re crying,” she says. “I love it. I love this. I walked out of a meeting. I hope you’re recording it. You dropped the ball last weekend when he said she did that thing with the train and Happy.”
“I know, I’ll never hear the end of it,” Tony says, watching as Peter walks over to the easy chair and sits down, pulling out the foot rest. He switches the baby around to his other shoulder, and keeps swaying her back and forth. She babbles at him again, and he smiles, holding her little hand.
Tony is just—melting. “Yeah, I’m recording, yes—I’m dying. It’s killing me. They’re killing me, Pep.”
“I’m calling May—”
“I already sent her ten photos like a lunatic,” Tony says. “Did you really walk out of a meeting?”
“I did,” Pepper says. “You should go down there.”
Tony gets up. “I’m going down there,” he says. “This is definitely one of those fakeout sleeps, and I think he knows that.”
“Oh yeah, for sure,” Pepper says. “And I think our daughter’s first real word is gonna be macho or man or the entire phrase. I’m pretty sure.”
“Oh, I’d bet on it,” Tony says, grabbing his phone.
“Okay, go down there. I’m gonna keep creeping in the car.”
“Noted,” Tony says. “Love you.”
“Love you more.”
She hangs up before he can dispute that, and he smiles to himself. He takes one more look at the screen before he’s about to head out, and Peter starts talking.
“Mr. Stark, I’m absolutely aware you’re watching,” he says. “The camera moves! C’mon! I’m pretty observant!” He snorts, and picks up Morgan’s hand, waving at the camera. “Say hi to your daddy, Morgan! Say hi!”
Tony cocks his head, nodding to himself. He leans in, presses the microphone. “Stay right where you are, and prepare yourself for a photo shoot. Drool marks and all.”
Tony smiles to himself as Peter laughs, sending Morgan into another round of hysterics. He rushes for the door—and swears to himself he’ll finish the kid’s new suit tomorrow. With bells on. Because he deserves it.
Yeah, Tony’s pretty sure now. He’s definitely an overbearing, sap of a man.