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There are two things Tony learns about Peter after Morgan is born.
The first thing is that when it comes to kids, he's a natural.
When he gets to hold her for the first time, she blinks up at him with wide brown eyes, a tiny fist clenching the faded Iron Man shirt he's wearing. Tony is entirely expecting her to cry, because that's what she's been doing more often than not as of late, but instead she's quiet. She looks like she's trying to understand who he is.
"Hey there," Peter coos, bouncing her slightly. "Hey there, Morg. I'm Peter. Your brother."
The second thing is that he's a self-sacrificing little shit.
(Tony already knew that. He has the gray hairs to prove it. But. Still.)
It isn't the kind of self-sacrificing that will get him killed or seriously injured - thank God - but it's just as annoying. Maybe even more, because while he can ground Peter from Spider-Man, he can't exactly ground him from staying up all night to make sure Morgan sleeps through it.
It's about two in the morning when the baby monitor goes off, startling Tony from his doze. He looks over at where it sits on the dresser by his side of the bed, and sees Morgan in her crib, crying.
Fuck.
Pepper starts to stir, but Tony kisses her cheek, sliding out of bed. He rubs his eyes tiredly as he makes his way to Morgan's room, thinking of her favorite lullabies and stuffed animals that might help her, but stops short when he gets to the doorway.
Peter is already there, holding her closely. He's obviously exhausted, from the way his posture dips and sags, but he still rocks Morgan back and forth. There are tears staining her cheeks, but she's already calmed down considerably, and Tony can't help but stay still and watch the scene unfold. She struggles, presumably to make noise, and Peter quickly shushes her.
"Shh, Morg," he says. "Your mom and dad are sleeping. You don't wanna wake them up, do you?"
She shifts in his arms, yawning as a response, and Peter gently lays her back down in the crib, pulling up her blanket. "Good girl. Look, you can even hold my hand." Tony can't see, but he assumes Morgan grips his finger like babies do. "Go back to sleep, yeah? You gotta, so you can hang out with me tomorrow."
It takes a few more minutes of quiet murmurs and reassurances, but eventually, Morgan's breathing evens out and Peter's shoulders slump from evident relief. He turns around to leave, and barely holds back a yelp when he sees Tony at the door. He opens his mouth to say something, but Tony presses a finger to his lips and gestures for him to follow him out of the room. He heads to the kitchen and flips the light on, pouring a glass of water and pushing it towards Peter, who takes a seat at the island. He holds his head up by one hand, squinting in the harsh light.
"That was pretty effective," Tony says. And it was - it takes him about twice as long just to get her to settle down.
Peter smiles softly at that. He appears to be nodding off, eyelids threatening to droop, before he jolts up and straightens in his chair.
"As thankful as I am, kid, why are you even alive at this hour? You look dead on your feet."
It’s quiet for a second, as Peter sips his glass and places it back down on the table. He blinks, not fully awake. "Tired."
"That’s what I just said," Tony rolls his eyes. "Were you waiting for Morgan to wake up?"
Peter shrugs. "She usually.. usually does, this time of night," he croaks, then coughs. "Didn’t want her to not get sleep. I can’t, so. Thought it would help."
Tony gazes him for a moment. He takes in his messy hair, the bags underneath his eyes, and sighs. Standing up, he tugs Peter towards the couch.
"What’re you doing?"
"Personally making sure you get at least some form of rest."
"I’m fine - "
"No arguments, buddy." Tony sits down on the couch, reclining his seat so he’s laying down. He waves a hand at the spot next to him. "Sit."
Peter obliges, more than likely because he doesn’t have the strength to protest, and promptly hits the couch like a puppet with its strings cut. His head lays on Tony’s thigh, and he brings his knees up so he somewhat resembles a small ball.
"You know, you don't have to look after Morgan all the time," Tony remarks, amused. His hand runs through Peter's hair absentmindedly. "If you want a break, you can get me or Pepper."
Peter immediately shakes his head, though it looks like it takes a lot of effort. He leans into Tony's touch, his eyes slipping shut as the man smooths out some of his wilder curls. "No," he mumbles. "No, 's fine. S'e only falls 'sleep when I'm there, anyway."
"Subtle brag there," Tony snorts. "I get it, I suck as a parent."
That must take a minute to register with Peter in his sleepy state, because for a second he just tilts his head into Tony's hand, like a cat nuzzling their owner. But then his eyes snap open and he moves away, staring at Tony as if he just said the most offensive thing ever.
"Hey!" He scolds, the harshness of it lost somewhere in his drowsiness. "You do not."
Tony raises an eyebrow. "That wakes you up faster than an alarm? Self-depreciation?"
Peter shoves at him halfheartedly. He goes to move back to his original position, but at the last moment rests into Tony's side, an arm loosely hugging his midriff and a leg hooked with his.
(Tony realized a long time ago that Peter becomes very similar to an octopus when he's tired. He also realized, probably around the same time, that he doesn't care.)
"You do not suck," the kid repeats. Looking up blearily, he says, "Not allowed to think that."
"Oh, so you control my thoughts now?"
"Mhm," he confirms. "And you're a good parent. The best."
"Don't let May hear you say that," Tony jokes. He's really only being sarcastic to ignore the emotions that are rising in his chest, but no one has to know that.
Peter groans. "Mis'er Stark. You're not getting the point."
Tony pokes his nose, smiling at the way he crinkles it instinctively. "What is the point, then? Please, enlighten me."
"You're.. you're just good," Peter says. He rests his head against his chest. "Warm."
"Being warm makes me a good parent?"
"Yep," he says. His voice is muffled and he sounds halfway to dreamland, but he fights to stay awake just to finish. Yawning like Morgan did, he gets out, "That, an' you care 'bout Morgan. And me. You care."
Tony is glad that Peter can't see his face anymore, because there's a suspicious wetness pricking at the corner of his eyes. He swallows roughly, continuing to twist strands of hair around his fingers. There are definitely emotions being felt - happiness, contentment, but most of all, love. Love so pure and clear that it doesn't suffocate him, no - in fact, it makes it just a little easier to breathe.
Peter begins to snore. Tony, on impulse, presses a gentle kiss to the top of his head.
"Of course I do," he whispers, to no one but himself.
He doesn't know how he got this, but he loves it all the same.